#but moreso its lead me to think about rewrite again | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ruby-whistler · 3 years

Text

hi, here's a short (long) analysis of this song which you should at least give a watch in my opinion! you might not like it, but you also might, so i say give it a shot.

anyways, here's my personal interpretation of the lyrics i (co)wrote. ani might have a completely different one, but you know.

beforehand, i need to point out that the first half of this was written before c!wilbur's revival and the second one was written after.

so, starting with the title

my motivation for it was c!wilbur's general role in shaping the narrative of the server, as well as cc!wilbur often joking around about scripts and other plot elements.

another thing was a clip of him talking with philza about how he thought the server's storyline was becoming very scattered, and i got the idea that maybe when c!wilbur comes back, he might try to rewrite the plot to his benefit as he has done time and time again.

hence, the idea for the song was born in my mind as i was falling asleep one night, because that is the only time i get good ideas.

the first half

"history, history, s'told by the winners, made by the sinners"

this was a reference to wilbur quoting the famous line "history is told by the victors". the reason i chose to use this set of words is because although the winners (wilbur) are the ones telling the story, the people who actually make the impact are often flawed, and genuinely invested in the cause (rest of l'manberg).

while c!wilbur knew the cause of l'manberg was false, he let the "sinners", or people he considered lower than him, since he was the one "telling" the story, win the war for him and make history as he altered the finished "story" in his own favor.

"so lie that you'll free them, s'long as you lead 'em"

this one is pretty self-explanatory. wilbur promised the revolution freedom in return for total loyalty to him, his power, and his country.

i'd also like to point out the use of "you" in this song - this was written, once again, before the revival; it was however expected that dream was going to bring wilbur back at some point. and i'm pretty sure ani doesn't know this, but writing this, i intentionally made the "you" wilbur is singing to be dream.

in essence, wil's telling his newfound ally about how powerful he is due to his abilities to "rewrite the script" - picture this being your usual villain monologue song after a dramatic return, since wil's always had a knack for the theatrics. keep this in mind for the rest of the explanation of these lyrics.

"the ink doesn't dry 'till time blows by spin a silver web and they're comply"

i absolutely loved this lyric, i couldn't stop gushing about it. ani came up with this one completely, so i don't know whether or not it has any deeper meaning, but i wanted to point it out because it sounds hella cool. the second part is about c!wilbur spinning lies until people would listen to him and do what he wants.

"smiles in the mirrors, reality's a game"

this line was meant to give an idea of just how screwed wilbur's perception of the world and people around him is, in that he treats everyone's lives as a narrative, as a symphony, as something that belongs to him and is free for him to play with.

smiles in the mirrors can be taken in a lot of ways, but one interpretation i like is that wilbur and dream as characters are parallels in their actions, but no one realizes it because the narrative paints them in different lights and the tragic hero and puppeteer respectively, when it's moreso the other way around.

"with help from the spinners we can shift all the blame"

spinners are the people wilbur uses to "spin" the tales for him. and, well, he's always been very good at shifting the blame and making himself out to be a victim.

seeing as he's talking to dream, in this line he is also reassuring him that he has people on the outside that can help them "rewrite" the current narrative and shift the blame away from dream and wilbur, in order to change the public's perception of them, which is at the time overwhelmingly negative.

"and if the world hunts you down out your mind and around we'll set their precious world adrift, adrift"

this is the most obvious pointer that wilbur is singing to dream. he is directly telling him that since the people of the smp have "hunted" him (or would, if he were to escape), and have hurt him mentally and physically in the prison, wilbur would work with him to destroy their lives and their world as they know it for their mutual gain.

it also brings forth his views of possession and power; in essence, he sees himself as in charge of the lives of everyone in his story, hence finding their realities fragile and fully his own to mess with. he finds it amusing that he has full control over something so "precious" to them, and mocks this sentiment in the last line.

"and if you don't like what's shown and you feel like no one's grown just, rewrite the script!"

this was the first lyrics for the song, which ani wrote, after i proposed the idea. this begins a trend in the song where wilbur will alternate between talking to dream and the viewers themselves.

here he is directly addressing those who don't like the way the smp has been since wilbur has stopped writing, and who call out the lack of character development in certain people's stories. he is reassuring them that now that he's back, he will rewrite it to be more entertaining - for him, that is.

the second half

alright, now we're going over what i myself wrote the day wilbur was revived after getting a surge of inspiration.

"screams, broken voices poor writing choices"

this starts off with revived wilbur's opinions on the new storyline he has come into. the first line refers to the torture dream is going through in prison, and the second is him simply commenting on how he finds the plotline inadequate after his return.

"dreams of redemption caught my attention"

the interesting thing about this is that wilbur, as has been shown before with eret, doesn't believe in people's redemption.

this line insinuates that even if there was any chance of the circumstances changing and dream getting better, now that wilbur was back, he wan't planning to let that happen, as he finds it one of the aforementioned "poor writing choices".

it caught his attention as something he finds interesting - since he's always had a twisted fascination with people's hopes and goals, finding ways to use them to his advantage - but in the end, naive, since his outlook on the world has always been quite cynical.

"train wheels screech on the rails in the end, my world prevails"

this was an attempt to shove a reference to the stream i had just watched into the song. the train stopped in limbo, and it came to get him back out to the world of the living.

the second line is him boasting that he knew all along that his efforts to gain people's loyalty would would pay off in the end, and hence his "word" prevailed even over death.

"i've got tales in store, of loss and of war it's a shattered world for me to restore"

see, this entire sequence is quite the oxymoron, and it's meant to be confusing, showcasing once again just how twisted wilbur's outlook on the world is.

he finds the story "shattered", which is a reference to cc!wilbur saying he prefers more centred stories than what the dsmp is right now. he is promising to fix this, finding it another game for him to play, another puzzle for him to solve, however, his definition of "restore" is proven by the previous line to be a contradiction at its core.

he has plans from his time in limbo, and just like all of his stories so far, they're tragic and traumatizing to the people playing in them. he plans to perpetuate war and conflict in order to make the story more lively and dynamic, while using loss as a tragic element to push the "characters" in their lives further towards development.

in the end, the way he's planning to "restore" the world is by rewriting the narrative in such a way that it wouldn't stagnate, or work itself out naturally, but continue endlessly for him to write and control.

"villains and heroes, traitors and moles when push comes to shove they'll burn the world for their goals"

the second part of the first line was meant to be "interchangeable roles" instead, but we switched it out so it would be easier to sing.

it's talking about how after all, it doesn't really matter to wilbur who the villain or hero is, as long as they are part of the narrative that he has power over.

"and if i harness the flame their hope will blaze all the same no time for interests to conflict"

this is confirmation of the previous point that he can use people's feelings against them and in order to perpetuate his own "interests". as long as he can make people think he's helping them, even if their goals are different, there won't be room for them to truly conflict.

the people on the dream smp all burn with hope and passion and human emotions he can exploit and use in favour of himself and his story, and even then they won't get any weaker. he sees them as an endless fuel source he can take from, essentially.

"so when you're blue and betrayed by all the choices you've made just, rewrite the script."

the last lines of the song, and here he is speaking specifically to the characters in the story. all of them have made mistakes and been "betrayed" by their choices to trust others, which left them or others grieving or hurt.

wilbur is in essence mocking this, by pointing out, once again, how simple it is for him to "just rewrite the script", and take all of their "blue" away - while also making it clear that he only plans to use this power to take further control by driving those he sees fit further down their path of revenge and villainy.

epilogue

thank you all for reading, whoever did! this song was truly a passion project for me to work on, and i loved coming up with deeper meanings to the lyrics, by using my own personal interpretation of the character. i get that this is not everyone's interpretation, but i like it. i also really can't wait for what wilbur's up to now that he's back. either way, have a nice day!

#dream smp #rewrite the script #fansong #fansong analysis #c!wilbur #long post

28 notes · View notes

stargleam-star · 4 years

Text

Warriors Rewrite Pt 0: Allegiances

So! Some of you may know Ive started rereading the first arc of warriors. As a result, I've been inspired to come up with my own version of a rewrite. I'm gonna make about 7+ posts of notes about things I'd change throughout the entirety of The Prophecies Begin.

To start off, let's talk about our cast

Leader: Bluestar (Apprentice: Sandpaw)

Blue-gray she-cat with a darker face, tail, and legs, and blue eyes. Basically she's a blue Burmese

She teaches Sandpaw instead of Firepaw because then it'd make sense when Graypaw says Bluestar only trains the deputy's kits. Not to mention I think Bluestar would be good at taming Sandpaw's attitude

Like in canon she gave up her kits. The way it happened was a bit different though. To look more convincing, Bluefur had Oakheart scratch her shoulder to make it look like she'd gone to fight the fox for her kits. Bringing home one of her kits half frozen made her story more believable

Deputy: Redtail (Apprentice: Dustpaw)

Small, mostly black tortoishell tom with a plumy dark ginger tail and green eyes

He lives! Or at least longer than he's supposed to. Probably til up about the time Lionheart dies in canon

He's mates with Runningwind. Sandpaw is their adopted daughter (we need more adoption positivity, plus her having no relation to the clan makes for a cleaner bloodline)

Medicine cat: Spottedleaf

Beautiful spotted torbie she-cat with a white chest, underbelly, and paws and amber eyes

She's not having a love affair with Firepaw/Fireheart in this. Also she's going to live slightly longer cause even tho Im not a fan of hers I want to change that

Warriors:

Lionheart (Apprentice: Graypaw)

Large longhaired golden tabby tom with a broad head, broad shoulders and amber eyes

Instead of dying during the raid Shadowclan leads on Thunderclan camp, he dies when the clan goes to chase out Brokenstar

Tigerclaw

Broad shouldered dark brown tabby tom with a scar across his muzzle and amber eyes

Whitestorm

White tom with a plumy blue-gray tail and yellow eyes

Bluestar raised him alongside Mosskit. So he sees her as his mom figure. He even calls her mom. He still loves Snowfur and sees her as his mother, but Bluestar was there for more of his life so he sees her as a mother too

Following that point, he sees Mosscloud as his sister. He also kind of sees Tigerclaw as a brother but doesn't have as strong of a bond with him as he does with Mosscloud

Mosscloud (Apprentice: Ravenpaw)

White she-cat with lilac patches and blue eyes

It's Mosskit!! She survived

Let me explain how: Bluefur snuck her kits out to bring to Riverclan (as she did in canon). But when she noticed Mosskit was falling behind and growing weak she panicked. She realized her daughter wasn't strong enough to make the journey, not like her littermates. So Bluefur tucked them away under a warm tree root and fetched Oakheart. Oakheart took Mistykit and Stonekit with him, and Bluefur carried Mosskit back to camp. It made her fox kitnapping story more believeable

Mosscloud doesn't really remember what happened that night anyways. If asked she'll say she remembers being cold and out of camp in the snow, and then next thing she knew Bluefur had carried her home. She believes Bluestar's story and believes her littermates are dead

She's really close with her dad, Thrushpelt. During free time she can often be found sharing tongues or having a meal with him

When she is busy, however, she's putting her focus on Ravenpaw. Mosscloud is an incredibly patient cat and wants to draw Ravenpaw out of his shell. She knows he has the potential to be a great warrior

Darkstripe

Black smoke classic tabby tom with a broad face and amber eyes. Like mama Willowpelt he looks like a British Shorthair

Longtail (Apprentice: Firepaw)

Lithe cinnamon silver classic tabby tom with a long tail and blue eyes

He was named a warrior 2 moons before Rusty came to Thunderclan

He was assigned to train Firepaw since he was so keen on testing the tom as soon as he stepped paw in camp (I'll go more in dept on this later)

Runningwind

What does "swift tabby tom" mean @ The Erins???

Here he's a fawn classic tabby tom with yellow-green eyes

He found Sandpaw at the edge of the territory when she was about a halfmoon-moon old kit and immediately brought her home to Thunderclan. She smelled of Windclan and he guessed a queen in the clan had abandoned her

Mousefur

Chocolate ticked tabby she-cat with amber eyes

She's pretty popular among the clan

She's around Longtail's age. They'd been named warriors together

Apprentices:

Sandpaw

Lithe dilute ginger classic tabby she-cat with green eyes

She doesn't know she was adopted from outside of Thunderclan. Nobody wants to tell her and frankly nobody really cares. She has clan blood, that's what's important. Plus she's strong, both physically and in wills

She's the oldest apprentice at approximately 9 and a half-10 moons

Dustpaw

Chocolate smoke tabby tom with amber eyes

He's kinda lean, like his brother. By the way Ravenpaw is his brother

He is 9 moons old at the beginning of Into the Wild

Ravenpaw

Small lithe black tom with a white chest locket, white tail-tip, and purple eyes ((this is my rewrite and I say purple-eyed ravenpaw rights.))

Like his brother he is 9 moons old

Ravenpaw is very grateful for his mentor. At first he feared he'd be given to a cat like Tigerclaw. But when he was given to Mosscloud, he calmed down, if only slightly. He appreciates her kind words and encouragement, and he responds well when she pushes him to do better. He wants to make Mosscloud proud

Graypaw

Longhaired gray tom with yellow eyes, a broad head, and a darker gray stripe from his forehead to his tail-tip. He looks like a British Longhair

He is 6 moons old at the start of Into the Wild, just like in canon. In fact, he'd been named an apprentice the sunhigh before he met Rusty.

He is still Willowpelt's son, despite having siblings who are two moons younger than him. Willowpelt became pregnant again not long after Graykit had been born.

Firepaw

Tom, handsome sorrel Abyssinian mix with green eyes. He's just...really orange

He's plump when he first comes to Thunderclan. Actually he remains kinda chubby

He's 6 moons at the start of Into the Wild

Queens:

Frostfur

Dilute tortoishell point siamese she-cat with a plumy tail and blue eyes

Obviously, her mate is Lionheart. They're the kinda couple who's really mushy and lovey

Her kits are Brackenkit, Swiftkit, and Snowkit

Willowpelt

Silver shaded white she-cat with a broad head and rich blue eyes ("rich" as in super blue. Like deep ocean blue). She looks like a British Shorthair

I decided to make her a queen early. I really like Willowpelt and I think she'd be good as a queen longer

Her mate is Whitestorm

Her kits are Cinderkit and Mistlekit

Before her current kits, Willowpelt had had 2 seperate litters before. Her first born is Darkstripe, who had siblings who had died young. He has an unknown father, but its suspected that he's half Shadowclan. Willowpelt's next litter consisted of one kit: Graypaw, who is also suspected to be half Shadowclan, but by a different tom.

Cinderkit and Mistlekit were born two moons after Graypaw was. This is because Willowpelt had had an out of clan affair, and while expecting a litter, fell in love with Whitestorm. When she was able to, she and Whitestorm mated and it resulted in kits a little sooner than either had expected. Yes this is a real thing that can happen, female cats can get pregnant again anywhere from 1-8 weeks after kitting.

Brindleface

Silver-gray spotted tabby she-cat with yellow-green eyes (I know what Brindle means but I've always headcanoned her to look like this)

She's expecting kits. Nobody knows who the father is though

Goldenflower

Pretty longhaired golden she-cat with broad shoulders, a broad head, and green eyes

She's incredibly fluffy. Even moreso than her brother

Her kits are Brightkit and Thornkit

Nobody knows who the father of her kits are, and she's going to keep it that way

Speckletail

Chocolate tortoishell she-cat

She doesn't have any kits as she is too old. She's just a permanent queen who likes helping newer mothers and kitsitting. She probably won't ever retire.

Kits:

Cinderkit

Blue-gray she-cat with a broad face and blue eyes

She's almost old enough to become an apprentice

Brackenkit

Golden-brown tabby tom with amber eyes

Brackenkit and his littermates are about a moon younger than Willowpelt's kits

Brightkit

Long haired white and ginger patched she-cat with green eyes

She's about a moon old

Thornkit

Longhaired golden tabby tom with orange eyes

Like his sister, he's a moon old

Swiftkit

White and black patched tom with heterochromatic eyes (one yellow and one blue)

Snowkit

Mostly pure white tom with blue eyes and a small patch of gray on the bridge of his nose. He is 100% deaf

I'm keeping this precious baby alive, you'll have to pry him out of my cold dead hands

Mistlekit

Silver shaded white she-cat with a plumy tail and yellow eyes

In canon she's Snowkit's littermate (who the Erins completely forgot about) soo I've revamped her and turned her into Cinderkit's littermate.

Like her sister she's about ready to become an apprentice

Elders:

Halftail

Dark brown tabby tom with a nubby torn off tail

Smallear

Gray tom with small folded ears

Patchpelt

Small black and white patched tom

One-eye

Pale gray she-cat, oldest cat in Thunderclan

Dappletail

Once pretty tortoishell she-cat

Thrushpelt

Lilac classic tabby tom with yellow eyes

He's still in love woth Bluefur but as always it's pretty one sided.

He adores Mosscloud with all his heart as if she were his own kit. As far as he and the clan's concerned, she is his kit. He's so happy he got to be involved in raising at least one of Bluestar's litter

Rosetail

Dilute mostly gray tortoishell with a pale ginger tail, and a white underbelly and paws

She retired early when Thistleclaw died

One day Bluestar explained to her how terrible her brother was, and even though she knows and understands, she still misses him

Cats outside the clan:

Smudge

Tom, Harliquine purebred Japanese Bobtail. Aka he's white and black patched and has a cute nubby tail

He has a little red bowtie collar

Yellowfang

Longhaired, flat faced, dark gray she-cat with a ragged scarred pelt, a yellow snaggle tooth, and orange eyes

Her name is actually Smokefang, but when she's exiled from Shadowclan she changes it.

Cats used to call her yellow-fang as an insult to her hygiene, so she took it on as her identity cause she's that bitch

Jake

Tom, purebred sorrel Abyssinian with amber eyes and a rainbow collar

Why do his owners let him roam around??? They probably don't know he's a pedigree purebred tbh

Nutmeg

Ginger and white tabby she-cat with green eyes

Princess

She-cat, ruddy and white Abyssinian mix with amber eyes and a pink collar

Barley

Black and white tom with yellow eyes and a red bandanna around his neck

Probably has a southern accent

Scourge

Tom, small all black Abyssinian mix with one white paw, ice blue eyes, a tooth studded collar, and dog teeth reinforced claws

Gotta talk about my boi if we're talking about a rewrite. He's probably got a genetic condition through Quince that makes him so damn small. Not to mention he's a runt

His collar is purple cause I make the rules here. And the very front has a bird skull because that's edgy and its a nod to flightfootwarrior/aka @ corvidkatana's old scourge design which I'm incredibly fond of

Also he has a hard time talking and walking. His collar's kinda tight on him now and it hurts to talk. His usual silence comes out more intimidating anyways. As for the difficulty walking thats due to his claws.

#viti's rewrite #warrior cats #wcs #warrior cats rewrite #long post #Im on mobile rn I'll put it under a readmore tonight

19 notes · View notes

madluv · 5 years

Text

The Killing Joke novel, an honest review

May contain spoilers, if you can call them that.

So, if you're like me and you enjoy The Killing Joke graphic novel by Alan Moore, and believe it to be both a staple in the Joker's development as it is a staple of reading material for comics in general, you most likely won't think much of the new The Killing Joke novel by Christa Faust and Gary Phillips, one of the three novels released as Batman novels late this year by DC.

For the most part, this new novel serves as 80% filler that is both pointless, disjointed and worst of all incredibly boring to read. I admit there are a handful of moments that had me laughing. Only I wasn't laughing out of wit or clever storytelling but simply out of sheer stupidity and terrible writing.

Now, I was ready to welcome filler in this release to be honest -- realising that the graphic novel is not quite lengthy or substantial enough to fill near enough 300 pages of text if directly translated, I was hoping for (and tentatively excited for) filler that included scenes from the Joker's perspective or narrative. I was hoping for some more development for Jeannie -- more development for both Jeannie and her husband prior to the events at Ace chemicals. I thought that perhaps what with this being a novel, we'd have more detailed and intimate emotional takes on the events that take place in the graphic novel. Unfortunately, there is nothing emotional or profound added by this story. It simply reads as an unprofessional, more edgy rewrite that becomes quickly droll and plodding. It's own filler ( almost entirely unrelated to the Joker ) is weak, again boring, and the references and scenes taken from the original are basically a written descriptive of the artwork and narrative with nothing more to add.

It's a lengthy novel since it's wordy where there is no reason to be, long paragraphs describing mechanical details, long paragraphs dedicated to the intricaties of cars and tech. There's a paragraph dedicated to how crack is derived from cocaine, in an attempt to describe it's own made up drug Giggle Sniff ( which I've decided is now my own clown name )... All in all, the writing lacks emotional understanding of the characters, what drives them, their turmoil. And for a story that supposedly delves deep into the Joker, the story has no grasp of subtlety, and it certainly doesn't once attempt depth. Characters you know you love, you are suddenly bored by. I found myself skipping chapters, if not to stop and scoff at the third or fourth time, fifth time a woman is described by the detail of her breasts... ( I quote "substantial sweaty breasts" and "she was definitely a C-cup" from this book ) not to mention those undulating backsides...

It reads like an extremly sexist script, avoiding approaching any subject present in the book with any empathy or emotional comprehension. With some of the content matter mightily disturbing, moreso unnecessarily disgusting. The entire novel lacks hugely (entirely) in emotional weight, making everything that transgresses feel completely and utterly nonconsequential.

I, personally, at many points felt a little conned with this novel sharing the same name as its graphic counterpart, when the Joker barely features throughout. Even Harley Quinn (who didn't exist when the original was written) has been injected into this story and has a similar mention to that of the Joker. Her role is as equally unflattering as every other female part, and is used as cheaply as you'd expect, cheapening the times we read about the Joker in the process.

What was a serious, dark, often shocking character driven story in its original concept, becomes an edgy, incredibly basic, boring, generic tale losely about drugs and strippers and very, very, occasionally you get a glimpse of the Joker. And even then, he is very off. Stuffed full of filler and descriptives to make word count, this book falls so completely flat, so completely leads the reader astray from what you believe will be more insight into The Killing Joke narrative. Embarrassingly bad and hugely disappointing, The Killing Joke batman novel is not worth its price tag -- it's not really worth the paper it's printed on.

Jokes on me though, for falling for the clever title and artwork. The end result is a hugely disappointing mess that barely ripples the surface of the classic comic book story. It's incredibly seedy, exceedingly gross in parts. Won't be attempting to read through this again in a hurry. A huge let down, yet again from DC, that is as offensive at times, as it is embarrassingly awful. The Killing Joke it is not despite the name it has been given.

#i had to write this in a rush i lost the last post #the killing joke #tkj #joker #the joker #dc comics #batman novel #harley quinn #review #txt

25 notes · View notes

airdeari · 4 years

Text

I’ve gone back and established a fun new tag called #smited writing. Anyway I have some ferdibertadetta that I smashed up in a blender and it came out smoother but here’s a snippet of the original version with a lot of chunks that didn’t make the cut. The premise of course is the classic One Bed

He had found himself wanting when Ferdinand and Bernadetta first climbed into bed alongside him. Both turned on their sides away from him, teetered at the edges of the mattress such that nary an inch of their backs would so much as brush against his arms. Bernadetta, who had let him rest against her back through hours of riding, who had kissed him for the first time and refused to leave his side thereafter until Ferdinand returned to the bedroom; Ferdinand, who had held him close throughout the day, carried him to safety, half-undressed him for hell’s sake—and now suddenly it was back to stiff propriety.

He, himself, was equally as guilty as they of that shy coldness, if not moreso. As Ferdinand moved about, Hubert bent himself at the middle to fit into the empty spaces above and below Bernadetta’s fetal curl, and managed to avoid touching or being touched by either of them. He could not initiate such contact, because that would mean admitting that he felt this want, that all the kisses and touches he had been given today had done nothing but awaken an insatiable hunger. It was a new weakness exposed, something between physical and psychological, this infinite backlog of human experiences he had denied himself for as long as he had been denying he was human.

Finally, Ferdinand decided how much of the blanket he wanted, and that was none at all. He pushed it away from himself with a soft huff. It was almost like the human warmth Hubert craved, clutching the blanket that Ferdinand had heated with his body, unfathomably hot for a chilly night in north Aegir in the early spring—

He let go just as Ferdinand pulled the blanket back to lay over the emptiness of the bed he left when he sat up at its edge. The moonlight from the window was enough to illuminate his two hands scrubbing through the roots of hair, then holding his face.

Hubert could not reach far enough to his right with his left hand. His palm settled inches short of Ferdinand’s waist, into the heavy warmth he left behind on the bed, and perhaps that was for the best.

Ferdinand turned at the sound of him shifting. “Hubert,” he breathed. “I am sorry—you were so still and silent, I thought you were surely asleep by now.”

There was a quip to be made about how anyone would seem still and silent in comparison with Ferdinand’s thrashing, but Hubert was too tired to speak it. “What’s the matter,” he whispered instead.

“Nothing,” Ferdinand responded so quickly that a crack of his voice slipped through.

Hubert was much too tired to guess at this.

“I am much too tired to guess at this,” he said.

Luckily, he had a companion for whom jumping to conclusions was a well-trained habit. She lifted up a head shrouded in mussed hair. Before Ferdinand could finish apologizing for waking her, she was speaking over him: “I-is there not enough space on the bed? Oh, I knew there wasn’t enough room with me, I should—”

Hubert’s hand was waiting to push her back to the bed when she tried to get up. “Absolutely not,” he said lazily, with an absent stroke of his thumb over the little warmth of her arm.

The little warmth.

“No, Bernadetta,” said Ferdinand with an uncertain tone, “do not worry, I am just—”

“Bernadetta,” Hubert cut in, “are you cold?”

“Huh?” After a short pause for comprehension, she slipped her arms back under the heavy duvet in which she was deeply encircled, then gave it a flap for emphasis. “No, I’m—I’m great, actually.”

Hubert turned to his other side, where the blankets ran hotter than another human. “Ferdinand,” he said, “you are running a fever.”

The black silhouette of Ferdinand’s shoulders in the windowlight twitched an inch. “N-no—”

Bernadetta shot right back up again. “He’s what?!”

“No! I’m not—” After lifting his hands placatingly, he dropped his head into them with a muffled groan. “I am not running a fever, I am just… overheated. I confess, I, er—I am,” he said in a choked voice, “not accustomed to sleeping in so much clothing.”

Oh.

“So much clothing?” Bernadetta repeated slowly and softly, puzzling over the thin cotton shirt and half-length pants she had seen him wear to bed.

In a pitch one-and-a-half octaves above his standard, Ferdinand stammered, “Well, that is to say—”

“He sleeps nude,” Hubert explained concisely for him.

Bernadetta gave a wincing squeak, while Ferdinand whirled up and around to protest, “I do not sleep nude, I—I simply—”

“Strip down to your smallclothes?” Hubert guessed.

He could almost hear the sound Ferdinand’s mouth made when it twisted into a knot. Bernadetta let out a quiet “Oh” that still sounded terrified, as was her default tone, but with a hint of relief that only Hubert was close enough to feel in her breath.

“Please, do not think anything of it. If possible, do not think of it at all,” Ferdinand said nervously when the silence dragged on. “I almost always get uncomfortably warm at night, even in winter. I apologize if I wake you by rising to cool myself with a walk—”

“W-wait, no, okay,” Bernadetta said, “we can… we can solve this, right? We can—um, can we turn off the furnace, or—”

“The single stove has pipes that heat the whole house,” Hubert said. “We would risk disturbing our hosts with cold.”

“O-okay.” Bernadetta pulled the blanket over her head as she curled up into her ball again. “Okay! Okay. Just, um, it’s okay. Yep. It’s fine. Wait—” She poked her head back out. Starlight caught her round eyes looking up at Hubert. “If, um, it’s okay with you? Maybe? I, I, I was just, oh, but I’m all the way over here—” She gestured at herself with a flap of blankets. “And you’re, you’re right there, so—so it should be your decision, you know, if you’re okay with—with—!”

“Wh—you don’t mean—Bernadetta,” Ferdinand sputtered, “you could not possibly mean—a-are you… implying that I should…?”

With an “eep!” she dove back under her blanket. “I don’t know, I don’t know!” she said through the muffle of the quilted fabric. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to—Hubert gets to decide, not me!”

Ferdinand jerked his head stiffly away from Hubert before speaking. The line of his throat was perpendicular to the window so that the moonlight followed the shadow of his Adam’s apple bobbing with a thick swallow. “Hubert,” he said in a strained voice, then his throat rose again, “of course, you could not possibly allow me to—yes, this is foolish, I should not even—”

“Ferdinand,” Hubert said, throaty and loud, “I am so fucking tired. Do whatever you need to do so that you stay asleep in this bed and stop bothering me.”

That shut everyone up rather quickly.

“Right,” Ferdinand said, soft and sheepish, as he slid off the mattress. “My apologies.”

Bernadetta stayed under her blanket. She did not speak, make a sound, or move again.

At some early point in his life, Hubert had decided to affect coldness in order to fit the role that Lady Edelgard needed him to play. At some point beyond that, some point he had not exactly noticed until just now, his affectation had become more than just that. Now, all he knew how to be was cold. Somehow, for reasons unfathomable, two outsiders saw and loved beyond that, saw and loved something Hubert had buried under practiced years of frigid ways, only for him to freeze up again just when they had coaxed him to the verge of safe vulnerability.

If inaction could lead to his desired result, he would feign a lack of interest. If something demanded that he ask for what he want, he would rewrite the script, manipulating the dialogue until his option was an inevitability instead of a choice, and pretending all the while that, of course, this did not particularly please him. If something as impersonal as mere condonation implied softness, he would fake reluctance.

What he wanted was for Ferdinand to feel comfortable both in his bed and in his company. Hubert made it into an insult to protect his secret, even when the secret was love.

#i should really tag my fanfic stuff #smited writing #the biphasic queue #fe3h

0 notes