The Life Revolution @ghoghost - Tumblr Blog

solarroseart

another edelgard doodle… I absolutely adore her design.

plumli

moved-to-havocguts

kejokaya

Ruler 👑

truejekart

Byleth

(quick study/practice)

shuuda-arts

Mage of Misfortune, Lysithea (Fire Emblem, Three Hopes)

pathetic-gamer

Flayn <3

this is a redo of my first ~fashion icon~ drawing of her, but the cool part of the new dress I was going to have her wearing would have been covered, so I went rogue lol

[the original eight: Annie, flayn 1, hapi, Coco, Dorothea, mercie, lys, marianne]

blaiddydbrokeit

You know, sometimes I sit and contemplate about Dimitri's mental health, particularly his psychosis and intrusive thoughts. But not from his perspective. I see that far too much myself. I know it all too well. No, I think about how it looks like to his friends.

How he would approach his teatimes with Sylvain carefully, every intention to loosen up for an afternoon, to assure his friend in earnest that he isn't too tightly-strung about all the work that comes with being the king. But his words always come out a beat late. Like he's trying to sort out thoughts he's not sure are his own. Words he's not sure should be said. He has pledged to speak his mind, but there are boundaries in that realm he still cannot bring himself to cross. Sylvain listens anyway. He knows as well that some things are less painful left unsaid.

Or perhaps with Felix, in a bid for respite from stuffy formal ceremony. Impulsive actions taking them into the nightly outdoors where they would not otherwise have been. Felix looks him in the eyes, but he doesn't look back. His eyes may trail blankly, veered if slightly off to the side, but a sharp jab always corrects that, physical or otherwise. Dimitri always corrects himself. Poises himself. Pristine, untouched. The people musn't worry for the sanity of their king. But Felix knows. Felix sees when Dimitri lifts his head as if hearing the call of one superior to even the king, working late in the night beyond the time he should have turned in for the night. Felix hears his murmurs on the occasions where he finds him asleep on his paperwork, one half of a conversation he cannot understand.

Perhaps even more so, with Dedue, who attends his many needs. Who prepares his attires, and wakes him for his day. Who tidies his desk and finds countless journals, endless unfinished letters that would never find their recipients. As if he was making sense of all the things he wanted to say, or records of conversations that never really happened. Even in the Duscur script, ever since he learned it - apology after apology, in spite of recovering relations. Trauma does not leave Dimitri so easily. Dedue knows this, and deeply admires him for it. He is far too soft-hearted, far too kind to be king, but it was also what made him the king that all of Fodlan named its saviour. The scars have cut him deep, but his love ran far deeper. Dimitri may never speak of it in words, but Dedue knows. Dedue, too, will keep quiet.