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@kralnec-a-blog
Okay, I think it’s officially time to archive Dimitri. For mutuals who have me on Discord and want to continue to interact with him, I’m totally willing to do that. And if you want to follow me on some other blogs, the ones I’m most active on are obligeas (Lelouch vi Britannia) and ichoreyed (Edward Elric). Both of them have 3H verses!!!!
My Discord if you wanna keep in contact is ren#9215 as well. Thanks for all the fun here!
Ferdinand modern AU is that guy who still has a signature on his texts so every single text message he sends is like this:
Ferdinand: I’m omw to the Wendy’s I am Ferdinand von Aegir Dorothea: Ok cool see u there :) Ferdinand: Sorry traffic I am Ferdinand von Aegir Ferdinand: omg look at this puppy though!! I am Ferdinand von Aegir
Anyways I’m sad that pre-timeskip (and then by the end of the BL route) Dimitri wants nothing more than to team up with Edelgard so that they can face their pain together and become the family they deserve to be but like. That Isn’t What’s Gonna Happen Dog
me: does one reply on dimitri
me: HOLY SHIT I’M UNSTOPPABLE
eaglegard:
she speak in prophetic tongues, as if the visions of grandeur is marked so clearly before her – no fog / no obstruction, only the clarity of a clear path she must walk. each step a meticulous one, akin to a well choreographed dance there is no room for missteps. as if there are ravines wrapped around her neck, warning her for each sidestep / each misstep she takes with a strangle around her neck. asphyxiation is her reminder, she frequently chokes on her words; on her thoughts and in that fleeting moment, she sees through him. she sees his tenderness, she sees his vulnerability.
with dimitri, it is almost as if time rewinds itself – the hands of time, reverse and she is that girl from her past-life once again. how sweetly, how innocently did they once smile – she remembers her first snow of the wyvern moon & she remembers the first night they spent together snowed in by the raging flurry of blizzard outside of the castle.
but they are no longer the kids from back then. they’ve changed. she’s changed. & she is certain that he too, has changed. the tragedy of duscur changed both their lives for good —- her father rendered incapacitated by the insurrection of seven & he, lost his father. her caramel locks rid of their pigment : here she stands, the product of those who slither in the dark, the very culmination of monstrosity & the divine prophet.
his words, his pleas remind her of her childhood. lilac eyes fixate onto his azure irises, as if searching for an answer — she remembers. she treasures her memories. but they are no longer the same… does she have the privilege of indulging in her memories, in the tenderness that is reminiscent of the same boy who taught her what it is like to be loved by a brother?
❛ — teach you? ❜ she sounds surprised in her voice. a strange request indeed – yet she wonders : how could she teach personal philosophies to someone who has a vastly different one from herself. would she mind teaching him? her mind lingers, drawls on the inquiry, on the request – his eyes, they shine like the way they did when she first met him; sweet & tender.
thus, she concedes.
❛ i – i don’t suppose i do. i will try to the best of my abilities. ❜
Does she remember?
He wonders. Does she remember the snowball fight they had, her eyes widening with delight when Felix first nailed her in the side of the head? And what of the time they sat, reading stories and exchanging quiet words of awe of the heroes of lore beside a warm fireplace? Did she remember sneaking out to visit Ingrid, who always spoke so highly of little Edelgard? What about the time Dimitri had first coined her nickname: “Edelgard is too long!” he had said, which was a cover-up because frankly it had been too hard for him to say, and so he had deflected onto “El.”
He fixates for a moment on her hair; recalls how warmly hued it had been. Now it is stripped of its warmth. Ashen. Cold. Reminiscent of the moon--distant, but beautiful. Dimitri wonders: is there some of the girl he once knew? Is she beating her fists furiously beneath Edelgard’s shell?
The surprise in her words startles him as well; his eyes flit from her locks and back to her eyes. The same pleasant veneer lingers there, but the innocence that used to dwell is now gone. For a moment he wonders if she, too, has been through hell.
She concedes. The agreement is done and Dimitri feels his heart lighten. They are siblings and they should stand together despite of being different houses--he hopes that, despite the political games of the Empire and Faerghus, that they can join together. He longs to aid her ( and hopes that she will understand him and his own pain ).
“I owe you one, Edelgard,” he comments with remarkable cheer, and he turns his attention back to the book, flipping open to the page that had been bothering him. “I must admit that I have less trouble envisioning strategies in lands that resemble Faerghus. I know many of the mountains like the back of my own hand.”
“The real problem occurs when I am forced to confront what is unknown. There are no beaches in Faerghus. How do I use such large bodies of water to my advantage?”
eaglegard:
he stands in a pinnacle of blue, as if the rains of the soils that brushes and brandishes the holy ground they stand upon. edelgard, he calls to her – a void of warmth / of kindness – only grief. only the penchant for vengeance. it unsettles her to witness him as he stands. as if bones hollowed, as if a husk of his former self : he’s suffered. she’s suffered. yet, suffering does not justify the alignment with sacrilegious institutions… suffering does not excuse the very fact that he could never atone for the bodies he had amassed simply because he harbours & protects the false prophet!
memories of faerghus sends chills up her spine. the first snow, now tainted with the sight of crimson. body after body, soul after soul, she walks a road to hell & she allows for the hell fire to cleanse, to bathe her, to singe every sin she had committed onto her flesh. it is the same eyes she gazes into, the window to the soul he once had – yet, the glimmer she once recognized ceases to exist, the flames cease to flicker. her jaw tightens. this is unbearable.
❛ — dimitri. ❜ his name tastes like a memory from a distant land : the taste of vitriol / the taste of sweetness in the midst of the harsh faerghus winter. wintertide is no more. it is a spring of rebirth, and it is only him that stands between her ambitions, her ideals, and the rebirth of fodlan.
shrewd tactics, relentless movements – she stands across from dimitri between the corpses of her former classmates, between the corpses of soldiers who had families. yet, she’s come so far : she is too far gone. she must prevail, otherwise all those lives would be sacrificed for naught!
❛ — very well, king of faerghus. ❜ you repulse me. who are you? there are inquiries that linger in her mind – the taste of memories sullying her goals; it muddles with her resolve and yet, when she remembers the hollowed laughter that sends chills up her spine – she only raises aymr at his direction. ❛ i will end your suffering. ❜
The memory of the dagger he once gave her seems more like a dream than a remnant of their shared past. As he gazes upon her, the woman who walks the path of the blasphemer, she who would tear the nation apart because she could, Dimitri can almost taste the hellfire Edelgard wraps herself in. It makes no sense: he is supposed to freeze. He who stands amongst the corpses should not taste warmth.
“Dimitri.”
His name on her tongue is a curse far worse anything he’s ever heard before. For a moment he is a young boy, sitting and laughing with her. His feet swing off of the pier, splashing up cold water. Edelgard has brown hair and her eyes are full of life. She is not a statue-----she is happy. She is not the woman who stands before him now with rigid shoulders and monstrosity lingering in her irises.
“I will end your suffering,” she says, and Dimitri barks out a hollow laugh.
“You killing me would not ease the flames of this hell I live in,” the boar comments and he matches her raised Relic with the brandishing of Areadbhar, “Only your death will stave off the dead.” Once he can finish off his vow and lay it to rest with the mountains of bloated bodies at his feet...then he can relax. Dying here is a near laughable thought. Demons cannot touch him anymore. Not when he so readily welcomes their presence.
There’s a twitch to the corner of his mouth. It flickers through his entire body; his fingers wrap and re-wrap themselves around the hilt of his holy lance. Electricity seems to pulse within him. And then he rushes for the Flame Emperor, point of Areadbhar extended towards Edelgard’s head. “NO MORE TRICKS.”
Starter for @eaglegard
“EDELGARD.” Referring to her by name feels too polite---Dimitri may be a monster, but what does that make Edelgard? As if he has to ask: the woman is a demon. The red she wears is merely proof of the truth Dimitri had fought so hard to ignore during his time in the monastery. And now the guilt presses on his back. More dead to atone for. How many lives had he cast aside because of his own naivete? Edelgard herself had warned him
Grondor Field feels foreboding now, the memory of The Battle of The Eagle and Lion far away. Once they had fought here and laughed. Then followed it up by sharing a meal in the dining hall. Now Dimitri slashes his way through soldiers and leaving a bloody trail in his wake. Grey clouds have gathered above them. Garreg Mach was another life entirely.
A flick of the wrist sends red spraying out behind him, droplets staining the grass. The boar king bares teeth at the emperor------------she will die here, Dimitri swears it. The dead plant their hands on Dimitri’s back ( avenge us, dimitri // please // please ) and shove him forward.
His body moves like a puppet’s, limbs too long for the disjointed manner in which Dimitri moves. His feet barely kiss the top of the ground. A grotesque sort of dance as Dimitri maims, relishing the feeling in his fingertips. This is where yo // u die. This is where // I fulfill my promise.
A maniacal laugh fills the air; Dimitri supposes it belongs to him, but it feels hollow, empty: “Come face me yourself, you wretched woman!”
Starter for @duscurknight
For once his fingertips are warm as the heat of the teacup slips past the protection of Dimitri’s gloves. So long he has guarded his heart from anything even resembling warmth; let me live within the cold, with fur-lined shoulders and an ever-bowed head. But no more: he is content.
How pleasant the days are now that Dimitri has cast aside his hate.
His expression reflects Dimitri’s emotions. He is a mask of a man no more. Now he sports a barely perceptible smile. There is a slight crinkling to the corner of his eye. “...It has been a long time since we last did this, Dedue.” Dimitri draws a sip from his cup, his one eye staring back at up at him from the amber-hued liquid. At once the heat spreads throughout his body, and the smile grows just a bit larger. “Thank you.” for staying by my side despite my becoming a monster---there is so much left unsaid, and Dimitri hopes to find the words to describe even half of it.
Starter for @knightsterror
“Might I trouble you for a moment---Suzaku, was it?” Dimitri inquires, approaching the brown-haired boy with a steadfast expression and a kind smile perched on his lips. “I was just about to make myself some tea and was wondering if you would be interested in joining me.” There’s a moment of pause before the prince adds, “If you have the time of course! I know this is rather last minute...” his voice fizzles out, pleasant smile transmogrifying into an awkward one.
This is sort of an excuse for Dimitri to practice his tea etiquette. He’s always been on the clumsier side, dropping teacups and shattering teapots. Furthermore, he hasn’t talked with Suzaku much, and this would a great opportunity to get to know him beyond being one of the Golden Deer. Dimitri sees something of himself reflected in him...although he’s not sure what ‘that’ is yet.
Small starter call--capping it at 5 because of the nature of Dimitri as a muse !!
‘ let me take your temperature. ’
Dimitri swats Dorothea’s hand away instinctively, eyes going wide for a second. The unwanted touch catches him by surprise. Five years of solitude have ruined the prince. “Do not—-,” barking tone, a baring of teeth…and then his expression softens, pupils dilating with self-directed horror, “Dorothea.”
He’s sweaty but shaking, body trembling like a leaf. Dimitri hasn’t felt quite this weak in some time; not since he watched his family die before his eyes, Glenn’s fingers scrabbling pathetically in the dirt, eyes wide as that sword comes swinging down, certain death only———–no. Stop.
The hilt of his lance is a comforting sensation in the palm of his gloved hand. Staggering forward, feet shuffle miserably across the floorboards, searching to steady Dimitri’s body. “Forgive me,” but he is not speaking to Dorothea, the hush of his voice sweeping across the rubble-filled ground. Shame, electrifying, filling his pulse. He is grief and unrelenting fury.
At once his posture falters, blue cape sliding to the side as Dimitri topples over and into the floor. The fatigue is overwhelming. If Dimitri were to listen, it would be loud and deafening, nerves serving as alarms of deafening proportion. But still he pushes on, forcing himself back to his feet and struggling forwards and away from Dorothea and into the hold of the dead. Their presence is comforting, despite the ghostly fingerprints that trail across his neck.
Muse is truly an unpredictable thing, god
eaglegard:
how could she tell? dimitri alexandre blaiddyd is an open book, with each of his frustrations, with the slightest elations inscribed onto his features. she could always read him, even when they were children. his frustration is blatantly written across his face, with each grimace, each tug at his golden tresses. if edelgard is to speak frankly, she would’ve longed to have been his sister – longed to grow up together, protecting him, teaching him each step, each sidestep to the dances she had been so fluent in.
yet, fate is cruel. but for now, she allows herself to forgo her ambitions for a brevity of a moment. after all, treasured time is rare and she is not without a heart. thus, she awards dimitri with an ounce of tenderness – soft smile, playful hum, and triumph aglow. she inches closer towards him, arm resting against the wooden tables of the library. she’s always thinking five steps ahead, after all, should she have even a slither of miscalculation, it is required to have a backup for if she did not, all would be for naught.
❛ because my eyes are not only fixated on the present – i am also calculating the possibilities, anticipating my enemies’ every move. ❜ she states plainly, succinctly without any lingering dishonesty in her voice. after all, she could not reveal all the cards hidden underneath her sleeves for if she does, her ambitions would surely be crushed. in the long run, in the grand scheme, he is still a pawn in her game – and that is the unfortunate reality for edelgard. but for now, she will allow herself to indulge in these fragments of tenderness.
❛ you must look at the big picture, the grander scheme of things. ❜
The frown that flits across Dimitri’s features is nothing short of tired. The fatigue has caught up with him at this point; he can feel its fingers creeping around his torso and probing at his mind. “I see,” the prince comments, and his voice trails off absently.
But to be focused on the future is to disregard the present.
Dimitri is not so fond of that idea. Perhaps that makes him naive. He’s heard those sorts of comments before and had been accused to his face by some of being a close-minded boy. But...after Duscur....was it really so unfair for Dimitri to crave a stable present? Something he could touch and feel with his own two hands? He longed to feel alive in the moment. What a horrible wish. He knows he died in Duscur.
Ideals are important, yes, but they can only get you so far. He wants to express some of that aloud, the words just barely pressing into his lips, but instead he shakes his head. Edelgard is far more clever than I. Dimitri would be the first one to admit that. Claude and Edelgard were always on another level-----------or at least it felt that way. am i just to be left behind ?
don’t leave me behind.
“Would you mind teaching me?” The prince stuck in the present begs. And he raises his head, hand pushing bangs out of his eyes to meet Edelgard’s own.
* lyric starters from the album hospice by the antlers
potential triggers below. feel free to change tenses / pronouns / shorten or lengthen / add to / etc. !
kettering.
‘ i wish i had known in that first minute we met, the unpayable debt that i owed you. ’
‘ you hired me to make up for that. ’
‘ i didn’t believe them when they called you a hurricane thunderclap. ’
‘ you didn’t talk for awhile. ’
‘ you were freezing. ’
‘ you said you hated my tone. ’
‘ it made you feel so alone. ’
‘ i should’ve quit, but instead, i took care of you. ’
‘ i didn’t believe them when they told me that there was no saving you. ’
sylvia.
‘ sorry, i don’t know what i said. ’
‘ let me do my job. ’
‘ remind me again how everyone betrayed you. ’
‘ let me take your temperature. ’
‘ please, please calm down. ’
‘ i’m terrified. ’
‘ i want us to ally. ’
‘ can’t you see what you are doing? ’
‘ i hate my voice ‘cause it only makes you angry. ’
atrophy.
‘ i am bound to your bedside, your eulogy singer. ’
‘ i’d happily take all those bullets inside you and put them inside of myself. ’
‘ tell me how to stop this. ’
‘ i’m her only witness. ’
bear.
‘ we’ll put an end to him. ’
‘ no one ever has to know. ’
‘ we’re too old. ’
‘ we’re not old at all. ’
‘ we’re terrified of one another, terrified of what that means. ’
‘ we’re fucked and not getting un-fucked soon. ’
‘ we’re bigger strangers than we’ve ever been before. ’
two.
‘ he told me something that i didn’t know i wanted to hear. ’
‘ there was nothing i could do to save you. ’
‘ the choir’s gonna sing and this thing is gonna kill you. ’
‘ i thought that it was beautiful, it made me a believer. ’
‘ this all bears repeating. ’
‘ tell me when you think that we became so unhappy. ’
‘ i didn’t mind you blaming me for your mistakes. ’
‘ no one’s gonna fix it for us, no one can. ’
‘ no one’s gonna listen, no one understands. ’
‘ there’s no open doors, there’s no way to get through. ’
‘ there’s no other witnesses, just us two. ’
wake.
‘ it was easier to lock the doors and kill the phones than to show my skin. ’
‘ the hardest thing is never to repent for someone else, it’s letting people in. ’
‘ this might take all night. ’
‘ the timing never seemed right. ’
‘ we can’t rely on photographs and visitation times. ’
‘ i just don’t know where to begin. ’
‘ i’ve got the keys, i’m letting people in. ’
‘ don’t bargain when you’re weak. ’
‘ don’t ever let anyone tell you you deserve that. ’
epilogue.
‘ you’ve got no interest in the life you live when you’re awake. ’
‘ you’ve been gone for quite awhile now. ’
‘ when i try to move my arms sometimes, they weigh too much to lift. ’
‘ i think you buried me awake, my one and only parting gift. ’
This blog is very much a WIP right now, but….hello! I’m Ren! And I’m here with everyone’s favorite eternally tired scholar: Linhardt von Hevring of Fire Emblem Three Houses because I cannot be stopped and I must write every character I like.
I’d love it if you’d give this a rb to spread the word while I continue finalizing things (and also cry while I do homework but u know)
I’m a huge sucker for soft stuff but I’m also so picky with ships for Dimitri bc...my boi’s got trauma......... anyways..............................please ship with m--
In light of all the Energy on the dash, Dimitri is a very possessive lover. Take that as you will. eyes emoji
