A Fire Emblem Three Houses Reverse-isekai story – Goin' Out
The loud, eardrum-assaulting death metal died out to nothing as I pulled the key from the ignition of my car, before falling back in my seat and letting out a long sigh. I didn't know why, but I'd been really feeling the new Whitechapel album lately for some reason, and it had been on repeat in my car for nearly two weeks now.
Yes, I still used CDs. I know. What a pleb.
The big house I was parked outside, left for me to maintain when my parents had fucked off back to Canada, sat dark and quiet in the pre-dawn light. Of course, that would only last another hour or so. In fact, judging by the time on the dashboard, it wouldn't last much longer at all.
Fresh from work at my night shift, I groaned as I climbed to my feet, the comforting conforming nature of my car's seat already a distant memory as I popped my back into place with a wince.
"Getting too old for this shit…" I muttered, reaching back in for my bag.
Bag safely, lazily, slung over one shoulder, I shuffled towards the door. I was met at the door by a plaintive 'meow' from the dark, scraggly looking cat that owned me.
"Hey, Coopie, hungry?" I asked as I pulled out the house key. "Yeah, give me a minute you grumpy old bastard…"
The cat just yowled at me again, rubbing up against my leg and covering me in black cat hair. As soon as I got the door open he scooted in ahead of me, and I gave another long sigh as I dropped my bag (gently, my Switch was inside) on the first stair just inside the door. I unlaced my boots quickly, kicking them off and placing them in their spot next to the door, before moving to feed the cat to get him to stop meowing at me.
I turned on the light, being greeted with another high-pitched sound. Only this one wasn't from a small animal.
The young woman standing in my kitchen with shoulder length purple hair framing her face blinked at the sudden brightness in the room, cookie still clutched in both her hands. She was wearing sweats and a purple tank-top, and if the dark rings around her eyes were any indication she hadn't slept yet, either.
"Mornin' Bernie," I said, grabbing a pouch of cat food from under the counter.
"Morning," she greeted, blinking as her eyes adjusted.
"What season are you up to now?" I asked, dumping the food in the cat's dish and getting the fuck out of his way.
"Season six," she groaned. "I think I have a problem."
I smirked, tossing the empty cat food pouch in the bin and shuffling into the kitchen around her.
I'd introduced the poor girl to Supernatural and Netflix. In that order. I don't think she slept at all that first week. Needless to say, Edelgard and Dorothea hadn't been happy with me that week. Despite the fact that both of them were now mooching off my Netflix account, themselves…
"Please tell me you're going to sleep today," I sighed, pulling out a frying pan.
"Yeah," she sighed, polishing off the last of the cookie. "I have class this afternoon, or I'd still be upstairs watching it."
"Bernie. You have a problem," I chuckled.
"I blame you," she groaned, leaning back against the counter.
I smirked, pulling the bacon out of the fridge.
Out of all the 'visitors' from Fodlan I'd say that Bernadetta was actually among the fastest adjusting to life here.
We still weren't sure how three quarters of the Three Houses cast had showed up here. Just… poofed into existence in the middle of the highway I'd been driving on at 5am, almost giving me a heart attack when a few of them had almost ended up as hood ornaments. So myself and some other very generous souls had taken them in. Fortunately, I had a big, empty house…
"How's school going?" I asked, tossing a few strips of bacon in the pan.
"Good," she said. "I got a pretty good grade for that last assignment. Thanks for proof-reading."
I smiled as a cup of coffee appeared at my elbow, glancing up to see Bernadetta sipping from one of her own.
"Teaching you how to make coffee was the best thing I ever did," I said. "How do you want your eggs?"
Bernadetta giggled a little at my comment, before saying "Scrambled, thank you."
I nodded, sipping from my coffee as I waited for the bacon to cook. We both glanced up as another of our housemates descended the stairs, clad in form-fitting grey workout wear, her short blonde hair hidden beneath the bright red 'Ottawa Senators' cap I'd given her. Ingrid glanced up, practically visibly salivating at the scent of cooking bacon.
"Good morning," she greeted. "I'm heading out for a run."
She paused as the old cat began schmoozing up to her, too, rubbing his face against her ankles. Ingrid smiled a little, bending down to pet him.
"I'll save you a plate," I said, tossing a few more strips of bacon in the pan. "Is Sylvain planning to crawl out of bed before noon?"
"I don't think he's working tonight, so probably not," Ingrid shook her head.
"Well, have fun," I waved. "We'll save you some. Scrambled okay?"
Ingrid nodded with a grateful smile, standing up again and disappearing out the door. The cat, his source of pets gone, decided to return to the bowl of food that was already almost gone.
I'd taken in three of the strays, Ingrid, Sylvain and Bernadetta all occupying the empty rooms in my house. Sylvain worked as a bartender at the campus bar on the weekends, and studied Sports Science with Ingrid and Raphael during the week. She worked at the gym up the road, and loved every second of it. Bernie was working at the bookstore in town, but again only on weekends, while she did a Bachelor of Fine Arts with Ignatz, who had taken a room at the dorms on campus. God only knew where Dimitri and Dedue were; I liked Edelgard, and they weren't on speaking terms, so I had no idea. Apparently Sylvain had some idea, but I'd never asked.
It was good to see them all taking life here seriously, even if they hadn't all changed much. They were all adults, though, so it wasn't really surprising that their personalities hadn't changed much.
"Why don't you start scrambling some eggs for me?" I asked over my shoulder.
Bernie nodded, grabbing the carton of eggs from the fridge. I'd probably have to buy more now. Ingrid ate like a garbage disposal…
"Can you give me a ride to school later?" she asked. "I'm still not… great with the crowds on the busses."
"Sure," I sighed. "But you're taking one of my dinner days."
"Deal," she said with a tired smile.
A few days later, on the agreed-upon day that Bernie was taking my dinner cooking duties, we sat around the table for the evening meal (or in my case, breakfast). The purple-haired girl had whipped up an amazing-smelling carbonara, with lactose-free cream just for me, complete with sides of salad (because Ingrid was getting really into the whole healthy living thing).
Conversation was light, mostly small talk about how they were finding school here, or how work was going, or how I had survived University with my liver intact (something Ingrid was still amazed by, since she'd found out just how much the average student drank here).
"We have to all go out," Sylvain declared in a lull in conversation.
"No," Ingrid and I both answered at once, earning a giggle from Bernadetta.
"Come on, it'll be fun," Sylvain laughed. "None of us are working tonight, and we're on study break! Let's go have some fun."
"Sylvain, I'm not playing your wingman again," Ingrid warned in a low tone.
"And I'm getting a little too old for going out," I said, grinning self-depreciatingly.
"But you're only a few years older than us," Bernadetta pointed out.
"And those few years are enough," I shrugged. "I don't wanna be that creepy old guy at the club."
"You're not even thirty yet!" Sylvain said encouragingly. "Come on, we could all use the break."
"Or we could use the study break for its intended purpose and actually study," Ingrid said.
"Come on, it's just one night," Sylvain winked. "And all work and no play makes Ingrid a dull girl, after all."
I sat up, casting a glare at Sylvain and his Shining reference.
"Motherfucker you moochin' on my Netflix, too!?" I snapped.
"Dorothea gave me the password," Sylvain said, waving me off.
"At least he didn't say 'go crazy'," Bernie muttered to me.
We both shared a giggle at the Simpsons quote while Sylvain continued trying to convince Ingrid, the red-haired man turning on the puppy eyes something severe.
"Bernie, that's why you're my favorite," I told her with a grin.
"Fine!" Ingrid finally shouted. "I'll go with you, but I'm not going just to help you hook up again!"
"Alright!" Sylvain said with a fist-pound, before turning on us. "What about you two?"
"I really did not want to get dressed tonight," I said, indicating the Zelda flannel pajamas I was still wearing.
"A-and I wanted to get started on season seven of Supernatural…" Bernadetta said, stammering a little and trailing off under Sylvain's intense, pleading look.
"Bernie, you need to get out more!" Sylvain insisted. "And come on, Papa Bear, you're not going to just leave these two lovely ladies in my company all night?"
"Call me that again," I said, eyes narrowing as I leaned over the table a little. "I dare you."
"Okay," Sylvain said, leaning back and holding up his hands.
I snorted, sitting back in my chair and casting a glance at Bernie. She was giving me a pleading look of her own, obviously begging me to get her out of having to go out.
"He's got a point, you should get out a little more," I said.
"Traitor!" Bernie cried.
"Yes!" Sylvain said, actually jumping up.
"But!" I said, glaring at the other man. "I'm only in if you call the others, too. All of you could use a little more social time. Acclimating to this strange new world and all that noise."
"But… we're acclimating just fine," Bernie said hopefully.
"Yeah. You are," I shrugged. "But I know for a fact that some of you aren't doing so well."
"I will admit that the only reason I am adjusting at all is because you were kind enough to coach us," Ingrid said sincerely.
"I just gave you my Netflix password, that hardly counts as 'coaching'," I scoffed.
"But you did help us, which warrants a reward," Sylvain insisted. "So let's all go out and celebrate, and maybe we can help some of the others, too."
I rolled my eyes and let out a long sigh.
"Alright, fine, let me just… put on actual pants," I said dejectedly.
"You're not going out in the Zelda pants?" Sylvain laughed.
"Chicks don't dig the Zelda jammies," I deadpanned. "Neither do bouncers."
"I dig the Zelda jammies…" Bernie muttered with a pout.
I laughed as I stood, patting her on the head as I passed.
"And that, too, is why you're my favorite, Bernie."
I let out a small sigh, glaring down at my third beer since we'd gotten to this club. I was sulking at the table we'd miraculously scored (usually the clubs were so packed you didn't have a hope in hell of getting a table), waiting for Sylvain to
get bored of hitting on the girls here, wincing every time the beat of whatever crappy club number was blasting out of the speakers assaulted my eardrums.
I was out of my element.
I hated clubs.
"Maybe you ought to slow down, buddy. We've only been here five minutes and that's your third."
I glanced up across the table at the other poor schmuck who had drawn 'table and purse guard' duty, Claude giving me his best, widest grin. He and Hilda had joined us almost immediately; it seemed like Sylvain hadn't been the only one up for a little fun tonight. The girls were all out on the dance floor right now, and I was intermittently casting glances their direction to ensure no one was messing with them. Sylvain had up and disappeared as soon as we'd gotten here, leaving me and Claude to hold the fort.
"I am Germanic in origin," I explained above the music, taking another long sip of my beer. "I cannot be defeated by a mere beer. Or three. Or ten."
Claude laughed, white teeth flashing in the dark skin of his face as he grinned. Claude and Hilda were two more of the ones doing well here, but both were extremely friendly and outgoing, so I hadn't expected much trouble for them.
Of the 'problem' group, most wouldn't be joining us tonight. Felix had been utterly lost once he'd gotten here and his swordsmanship was rendered completely useless. He'd joined the army the first chance he'd gotten, and we hadn't heard from him since. Raphael was having some trouble, too, but once he'd joined one of the hardcore body building gym clubs he'd started getting more comfortable. Leonie and Caspar were somewhere in the south, studying at the Police Academy. They kept in touch with a few of the others, and apparently the rigid Academy
lifestyle was doing wonders for both of them. Caspar with a gun was a scary thought, though…
I leaned back in my chair, scoping out the bar again and catching sight of Sylvain, just long enough to see him get brushed off by the latest target of his amorous intent. Or, more accurately, her pissed off boyfriend. Smiling, with his hands up non-threateningly, the redhead backed off. Smooth as silk.
Claude saw it, too, and winced sympathetically.
"Ooh, ouch," he chuckled.
I just grinned. Despite working at a bar, Sylvain had yet to learn the subtle tricks of hitting on the ladies. Not that I was an expert, mind you, but as a local I did have some idea.
The redhead slunk back to the table, his grin sheepish.
"A swing and a miss, huh?" I asked as he sat down with us.
"I'm not worried, there's plenty more ladies out there," Sylvain shrugged. "Where are the girls?"
"Dancing," Claude answered. "We're watching the bags."
"Which I could do on my own if you two wanted to go join them," I offered.
"What about you?" Claude asked.
"I dance like a stump, I'm fine," I laughed. "Y'all go have fun."
"And leave you here all alone? No way! The bro code demands it!" Sylvain said. "I'll get us some more drinks. Beer good?"
"There's only one answer to that question, and it's always yes," I chuckled.
"Alright, but if I don't come back assume I scored with that hottie at the bar," Sylvain said with a sly grin.
Claude and I rolled our eyes, but as he got up to go I put a forestalling hand on Sylvain's shoulder.
"Whoa, there, Skippy, hold up," I said, pushing him back into his seat. "Have you been watching her?"
"Who?" Sylvain asked.
"The 'hottie at the bar'," I explained.
"I just noticed her now," he admitted.
Claude chuckled and shook his head, sighing and leaning an elbow on the table.
"Okay, here's a tip," I said, leaning close to Sylvain. "Watch her for five minutes."
"What? Why?" Sylvain asked, earning a chuckle and another head shake from Claude.
"Because the hottest girls have the biggest, meanest boyfriends," I warned. "Watch."
Sure enough, after only a handful of minutes, in which Sylvain fidgeted like a junkie that needed a fix, much to Claude and my amusement, a hulking, neckand-face-tattooed dude wearing a muscle shirt that was less cotton than one end of an ear-cleaner, came up to the girl. Judging from the way she squealed and jumped up to kiss him, very passionately, they were seeing each other. Claude looked impressed by my insight, but Sylvain looked equal parts terrified and crestfallen.
"Only fools rush in, buddy," I laughed, patting him on the shoulder.
"Right, right," Sylvain nodded. "I'll just need to watch all the beautiful women at the bar. At once."
"Yup, you do that," Claude laughed. "While you get those drinks."
Sylvain nodded, his eyes darting around the room like a squirrel's as he strutted over to the bar.
"That boy has issues," I muttered.
Well, shouted, but because the music was so loud our entire conversation had just been shouted across the table.
"Don't we all?" Claude laughed, before downing the last of his mojito to make room for the beers.
I don't even think he liked the thing. I think he just found the name fun to say.
As we were waiting for Sylvain the song ended, giving us a few glorious seconds of respite in which the crowd let out an approving roar, the DJ firing up his laptop (because really, who still used records anymore?) and starting another one. Just as some superstar I'd never heard of began to yowl lyrics like a wounded animal the girls returned to the table, sweaty and smiling and having a great time.
"Hi boys!" Hilda called, falling into the seat next to mine and leaning heavily against me in the process. "Thanks for watching our stuff!"
"Had to beat off six other groups with a pool cue," I shouted back to her. "You owe me a drink!"
Ingrid and Bernie obviously found this mental image amusing as Hilda laughed, leaning against me again. I fidgeted and shifted away at the contact, desperately looking to Claude for help as the other two took their seats.
"Having fun?" I asked as Bernie settled in on my other side.
She nodded, smiling brightly as she took up the half empty glass of vodka and raspberry she'd left behind in both hands.
"Yup! I wouldn't be having any fun alone, but with Ingrid and Hilda with me it's great!"
"I think Edelgard and Dorothea are meant to be showing up tonight, too," Claude called across the table. "Lorenz said something about this place being too much of a dive, and I couldn't tell if Mercedes even knew what a club was when we talked."
"Yes, that does sound like her," Ingrid sighed.
Sylvain took that opportunity to return, placing fresh bottles of beer in front of myself and Claude as he took a long sip from his own, doing all this while leaning pointedly over Ingrid's shoulder. Probably half to flirt, and half to piss her off.
"Alright, I need some air," I declared, getting up.
"No smoking!" Ingrid growled menacingly.
"I know, I know," I said, rolling my eyes. "I quit, didn't I? It's just a little crowded in here."
"Hold on, I-I'll come with you," Bernie offered.
"Nah, I'll be fine," I told her. "You have fun dancing and stuff. Thanks for the beer, Sylvain, and remember: five minutes!"
I took the new beer in my hand, taking a long swig as I turned away from the table and began to thread my way through the crowd towards the exit. As I got closer I downed the rest of the beer, ending up skulling half the bottle before placing the empty one on a ledge near the door and stepping past security, out onto the street. There was a pretty steady flow of people moving into the bar past the ID check stand, but it was still early. I turned, walking away opposite to the crowd lining up to get in, glancing over my shoulder once I was a decent few meters away. As soon as I was satisfied I'd gotten far enough that I'd spot Ingrid or one of the others coming, I dug the crumpled pack of smokes and cheap disposable lighter out of my pocket and tapped out one of the coffin nails.
They were old and stale, having sat in my desk drawer since I'd quit again a few months ago, but if I was gonna be forced to go out and socialize like I was eighteen again, I was going whole ham.
I lit the cigarette, taking a long drag and blowing out a cloud of grey smoke.
It was easy to forget, sometimes, just how relaxing this could be…
I took another long drag of cancer-vapor-
"Does Ingrid know you're out here smoking?"
-only to cough and splutter as Dorothea tapped me on the shoulder.
"Fuck me dead, woman!" I coughed, smoke coming out my nose as I tried to wave the cloud away. "Don't sneak up on me like that!"
"Busted!" Dorothea laughed, skipping back a step from my flailing.
I coughed into my fist a few more times, holding the cigarette away.
"Don't tell her please," I begged. "I just really needed something to calm me down. All those people inside…"
I shuddered over-exaggeratedly, earning a giggle from the songstress. I leaned around her, glancing back.
"Hey Edelgard, you look good tonight," I said. "Sup, Ferdinand?"
The other two Adrestians watched on, Ferdinand with a conspiratorial grin and Edelgard with an expression of distaste. I rolled my eyes and dropped the cigarette, grinding it out beneath my sneaker.
"Happy?" I asked Edelgard.
She smiled slightly and nodded.
"That is a horrible habit," she said.
"What, no comments on how I look tonight?" Dorothea pouted.
"If it means you won't tell Ingrid I was smoking again I'll stroke your ego all night," I deadpanned, rolling my eyes before continuing in a flat voice. "Oh Dorothea, your brilliance is like the sun and the moon had a baby and it fell to earth. Your radiance blinds me. You should watch your back inside, or the jealous plebs may try to shank you in the bathroom."
This earned a laugh from the three of them, Dorothea playfully swatting me on the arm.
"You suck at giving compliments," she accused playfully.
"There's a reason I'm still single," I shot back with a grin.
Dorothea shook her head, smiling brightly.
"Women here just don't appreciate bald men," she told me.
"Hear that, Ferdie? You may wanna borrow my clippers," I laughed.
The other man blanched, hand absently running through his long orange locks.
"I… feel like I would still look better with long hair," he admitted. "It's a far more noble look. For me at least."
I scoffed as Ferdinand tacked that last part on the end, casting an apologetic glance in my direction.
"Nice save," Dorothea laughed, grabbing Ferdinand by the arm. "Come on, let's go find the others."
"Y'all have fun, I don't think I'm ready to go back in quite yet," I waved them off.
Dorothea gave me a pointed glare, to which I shrugged.
"I'm not planning on smoking any more tonight," I said, holding my hands up. "The DJ apparently has Chris Brown's greatest hits on repeat, and I fucking hate Chris Brown."
Dorothea leaned forward, eyes narrowing, heedless of the way she rubbed her breast along Ferdinand's arm as she did so. Clearly, from the way he blushed and leaned away, he had.
"Edie, do you mind watching him?" she said at last.
"Seriously?" I groaned.
"Me?" Edelgard asked in surprise.
"Yes," Dorothea nodded, seemingly satisfied. "You are the one he's most afraid of, after all."
"She's also the only one I'm actually taller than," I deadpanned. "You got a point to this train of thought?"
"You've got this, Edie," Dorothea, giggled, practically dragging Ferdinand with her. "We'll meet you two inside!"
Edelgard and I watched as Dorothea dragged Ferdinand right past the line, the bouncer not even glancing at the duo as they were waved inside. I did grin a little at the scandalized and pissed off faces from the line, but Edelgard just heaved a sigh.
"She never changes," the white-haired woman said.
"Well, when you're that hot you can kinda just do what you want," I shrugged. "Honestly wasn't expecting to see you out tonight."
Edelgard made a face. "Dorothea insisted that I 'get out more'."
"I used the exact same line on Bernadetta to get her here," I smirked.
"Bernadetta? Truly?" Edelgard asked with a gasp. "She is inside?"
"Dancing up a storm and having a blast," I chuckled.
"Then we should join them!" Edelgard insisted.
She managed to take a few steps before I called out to her, halting her progress dead.
"Claude's in there, too," I warned her.
Edelgard turned back, stomping back towards me with a frown.
"You could have led with that," she huffed.
"Oh will you two just fu… uh, date already?" I said, catching myself at the last second.
Even if Hubert wasn't here, if it got back to him that I was cursing in front of Edelgard again I'd never hear the end of it. And from the small grin Edelgard was now giving me, she knew it, too.
"Perhaps we can just wait out here for a little while and enjoy the night air," Edelgard suggested.
I nodded, taking a deep breath and doing my best to ignore the noise of traffic and drunk assholes.
"Sure, sounds like a plan," I agreed.
We stood, watching the crowd for a time before I reached into my pocket.
"Want a smoke?" I asked, holding the packet out to her.
Edelgard didn't even look, just snatching the packet out of my hand and tossing it in the nearby garbage can.
"Well, that was rude," I huffed.
"Don't make me tell Dorothea," Edelgard grinned at me.
"Fine, be mean," I said, sighing to hide my grin.
Author's Note
This story was written as a bit of dumb little fun. Basically, I held a contest on my (P)atreon page a few months ago to see who could write the best 'Reverse Isekai' story, in which one or more of the cast of Three Houses ends up in our world, rather than the usual Self Insert crap. There were a bunch of great stories that were submitted, and in general we just had a bunch of fun with it all.
The idea was originally something along the lines of 'y'all can entertain me for a change', but I ended up writing this one myself for... reasons.
Okay, I was bored.
I hope you enjoyed this little one-shot story. I won't be continuing it, but it was fun to write a little bit of.
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