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[ultrafacts]

A cyanometer is a device used to measure the intensity of blue in the sky, often used in meteorology and atmospheric studies. It typically consists of a series of blue color patches or a color gradient, allowing the user to compare the sky’s color to these reference colors.

[im-a-goat-in-disguise]

Do you like the wheel of the sky

[friend-crow]

Well I like that it doesn't take 5 minutes to scroll past.

[papayajuan2019]

cruelty is so easy. youre not special for choosing it

[derelicthousefootage]

[chilewithcarnage]

"The trouble is that we have a bad habit, encouraged by pedants and sophisticates, of considering happiness as something rather stupid. Only pain is intellectual, only evil interesting. This is the treason of the artist; a refusal to admit the banality of evil and the terrible boredom of pain."

-Ursula K. LeGuin, The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas

[wizardnuke]

"Evil is boring. Right? I kinda believe in the banality and mundaneness of evil. Evil is just selfish impulses, which at the end of the day are really easy to understand. It’s easy to understand why people do bad things. It’s like “yeah, ok, you’re selfish and scared and cruel, I get it”. Being good is complex and beautiful and hard." - Brennan Lee Mulligan

[oldshrewsburyian]

"How monotonously alike all the great tyrants and conquerors have been: how gloriously different are the saints." --C.S. Lewis

[greenmossloveisreal1998iloveyou]

Have fun in the war dumbass I’ll be at home fucking military wives

[unbossed-deactivated20251218]

Damn. Good way to get your fucking windows kicked in

shut the fuck up and raise my son bootlicker

All fun and games until someone with 3 confirmed kills shows up at your doorstep with a baseball bat

im not at my house tho, im at yours with your wife

But he’s got shooters all over the world 🌎 even when he’s away

just shot a load in his wife

You ungrateful asshole. My bf might be fighting for your freedom and you’re here mocking him for keeping your pathetic ass safe from the threats of the world. If a war comes to our country, we’re not saving you, you dumbass ungrateful fuck up of a human being.

Your bf is fighting for oil and killing civilians and probably cheating on you he’s a scumbag, which is why I just fucked his mom to make a better son

[thetyrannosaur]

[heardbook]

The fool taunts the hungry dogs but the dogs have their day and the fool becomes a feast

your girl boutta be the feast soon as you get deployed boot boy

World Heritage Post

[cpineau1973]

Who ever was the first person to post this is the biggest piece of shit in the world. You’re an amoral ASSHOLE!!!!!

[cpineau1973]

Hotmeat89 you are a disgrace you don’t deserve to be called an American! You don’t even have the right to call yourself a MAN!

I don’t call myself a man but your wife still calls me to fuck

happy veterans day

[jv]

Fun little tidbit: the lyrics for the international hit “Macarena” are about what @hotmeat89 does with some military girlfriends and how much they enjoy it

(I’m absolutely not kidding, the lyrics of the song are about how much fun Macarena has with “friends” while her boyfriend is in the army)

[transcyberism]

damn ok

[jv]

That translation is not right. The song is EXPLICIT about it. It doesn’t say “se la vio con dos amigos”, as it translates there as “he saw her with two friends”, the actual lyrics are “se la DIO con dos amigos”=> “she cheated on him with two friends”.

It’s not subtle or metaphorical in any way, it’s literally “how fun it’s to cheat on your boyfriend while he is in the army”. That’s the entire lyrics I kid you not.

[blumineck]

Remember, historical accuracy will almost always be secondary to filming practicality!

[jv]

Wait, wait, all those comments at the end of the video are tumblr!!! This is a Tumblr-first video! We got him, gang! good work, everyone!

[anaryllis]

reminders i need to like, tattoo on my brain:

1. if you feel judged and hurt by others, try sleeping

2. if you feel judgmental and resentful of others, try eating (the classics)

3. if you feel uncomfortable, try showering

4. if you feel directionless and afraid, go sit outside for a bit and maybe then you'll calm down. maybe even a walk if youre feelin crazy

5. take it easy, but by god, take it

[anaryllis]

oh and how could i forget. final boss. take your fucking medication

[lifehackable]

This is potentially life saving information everyone should know.

[tarcroach]

No you guys this post helped me find my cat. He was missing for almost a month and I’ve had him for over 12 years. After seeing this I put his favorite blanket he always slept on outside hoping he would smell mine or his scent and he was back the next fucking day asleep on it.

[ittygittydiddynator]

When my cat got out, we called and called for him, and then, later that night, I remembered similar advice to this, and so put his little scratching pad, which he adores, on the front porch. Not even half an hour later, I heard a thump, opened the door, and there was his big butt, meowing at me.

[sparklesmccheesy]

Important and vital

[natasha-romvnoff]

I don’t care that I reblogged this today I’m reblogging it again

[writing-n-ocs]

This is an exception to not being related to writing.

[castielismyhusband2266]

I hope this helps somebody

[derinthescarletpescatarian]

Whenever someone in one of my buy swap sell groups reports a missing cat, I remember this post and pass the advice on. So far, ALL of the missing cats have come home.

[luna-azzurra]

Unhealed Wounds Your Character Pretends Are Just “Personality Traits”

These are the things your character claims are just “how they are” but really, they’re bleeding all over everyone and calling it a vibe.

╰ They say they're "independent." Translation: They don’t trust anyone to stay. They learned early that needing people = disappointment. So now they call it “being self-sufficient” like it’s some shiny badge of honor. (Mostly to cover up how lonely they are.)

╰ They say they're "laid-back." Translation: They stopped believing their wants mattered. They'll eat anywhere. Do anything. Agree with everyone. Not because they're chill, but because the fight got beaten out of them a long time ago.

╰ They say they're "a perfectionist." Translation: They believe mistakes make them unlovable. Every typo. Every bad hair day. Every misstep feels like proof that they’re worthless. So they polish and polish and polish... until there’s nothing real left.

╰ They say they're "private." Translation: They’re terrified of being judged—or worse, pitied. Walls on walls on walls. They joke about being “mysterious” while desperately hoping no one gets close enough to see the mess behind the curtain.

╰ They say they're "ambitious." Translation: They think achieving enough will finally make the emptiness go away. If they can just get the promotion, the award, the validation—then maybe they’ll finally outrun the feeling that they’re fundamentally broken. (It never works.)

╰ They say they're "good at moving on." Translation: They’re world-class at repression. They’ll cut people out. Bury heartbreak. Pretend it never happened. And then wonder why they wake up at 3 a.m. feeling like they're suffocating.

╰ They say they're "logical." Translation: They’re terrified of their own feelings. Emotions? Messy. Dangerous. Uncontrollable. So they intellectualize everything to avoid feeling anything real. They call it rationality. (It's fear.)

╰ They say they're "loyal to a fault." Translation: They mistake abandonment for loyalty. They stay too long. Forgive too much. Invest in people who treat them like an afterthought, because they think walking away makes them "just as bad."

╰ They say they're "resilient." Translation: They don't know how to ask for help without feeling like a burden. They wear every bruise like a trophy. They survive things they should never have had to survive. And they call it strength. (But really? It's exhaustion wearing a cape.)

[the960writers]

This article offers guidance on how to use the different sections of the Timemap of World History, especially the Atlas and the Encyclopedia

Incredible resource. What was going on in the world in a specific year? Look it up on

The Timemaps Atlas of World History

[grillmasterxbbq]

waters so amazing because you can drink it really sloppy style and like spill it all over yourself and it doesnt even leave a stain. you dont even have to wash it out/ . because its already washed

[worldbuilding-tomfoolery]

yet another massive w for water, the greatest fluid in the universe

[creativesplat]

a glowing Byleth, because I saw that she glows in FE3Hopes and I loved it.

[honeycollectswhump]

A Fine Farghean Husband

@gritpyre

The celebrations in Fhirdiad are in full swing. The city prides itself in its heated parties, to spite the cold wind and merciless winters. Alcohol and inhibitions flow freely in the otherwise strict kingdom and boisterous laughter fills the castle halls.

Dimitri has never been one for parties, nor drinking, yet at Sylvain’s continuous insistence for just one more shot, he can’t help but oblige. Out of duty and shame, if anything else.

He had taken so much from his friends, denied them so much joy, brought nothing but hurt. He owed it to them, to spend the party without a single word of complaint, pliable in their hands to make up for the monster he had become.

Though now, more than just a couple shots in, Dimitri finds agreeing to just one more is getting easier by the second.

He hadn’t drunk anything really, since… that one night in the cathedral, when he had not yet regained his mind, that he only remembers snippets of. That ended with a vengeful hangover and him waking up in Byleth‘s lap. Even with his ravaged mind, the embarrassment took over and he had scurried away like a mutt, throwing up somewhere outside, and then never spoke of it again.

Long after, the ghosts still ridiculed him for the unnamed feelings it left him with.

Now, pleasantly buzzing, the faces and voices of his loved ones have retreated into the fog of inebriation. There is no one to criticize him for downing glass after glass of Fhirdiad‘s best liquor.

Amongst the inhuman strength, his crest also grants him a heightened tolerance; a trait he must have shared with his father, if Rodrigue‘s stories were to be believed.

A pang of grief shoots through Dimitri at the thought, and he quickly grasps the closest glass of booze and drinks it. He finds the burning sensation chases any unpleasant thoughts away.

Briefly, he wonders why he hadn’t indulged more before.

Around the foggy buzz, Dimitri still converses with different nobles, never really without his duties as future king. Though, at this point, their conversation could be called senseless.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a slightly swaying Sylvain approach Byleth with another one of his just-one-more-shots. She obliges with a smile and knocks with back the with energy of a true mercenary. Yet, somehow she remains sober. Not even the faintest flush betrays the amount she has drunk.

Dimitri supposes it makes sense. He can take a guess at the rapid speeds of her metabolism, if the massive amount she casually eats are any hint.

Is it appropriate to think about the metabolism of a lady?

The noble besides him laughs loudly and slaps his back. „Your Highness, if that gaze of yours is any sign, we mustn’t worry about a royal marriage much longer.”

Dimitri sputters, chokes or dies. He can feel his face heat up like wildfire, blushing so hopelessly he cannot possibly blame it on the alcohol.

Instead, in a panicked attempt to avoid answering, he grabs the drink he was sipping and downs it in one go, barely breathing between gulps.

The nobles start cheering, as if they were in a bar and not the royal castle. The burning down his throat isn’t enough to distract him.

Instead, the Goddess must have it out for him personally, because he has barely recovered from his drink when one of the nobles loudly declares to the table: „Look at his Highness drinking like a fish. He will make a fine Faerghean husband one day!“

Dimitri grabs the nearest liquor bottle and downs it in its entirety, doing nothing to quell the nobels‘ claims, before excusing himself and hurrying away.

It doesn’t occur to him that this might not have been his wisest decisions.

He seeks out a table where some of the Blue Lions have collected, taking a break from the chaos. Sighing, he sits down, thunking his forehead on the wood.

„Since when is it allowed for nobles to treat the future king this way?“, Dimitri mumbles. „I have barely returned, yet they have become obsessed with finding me a bride.“

He can only speak that last part under the security of hiding his face in his arms. The cool wood does nothing to reduce his ever-burning blush.

Mercedes, a gentle flush on her face too, pats his head in consolation. „They’re eager for any sense of normalcy. I think marriage is the one thing they all agree on, rare as it is.“

Grumbling, Dimitri turns to face her, trying to focus his blurring vision. „When have they ever agreed on one thing? Now, it is like they speak in unison. Did Sylvain put them on this?“

„I suspect they came to that conclusion themselves.“ Mercedes giggles.

His eye widens, sputtering as her words make their way through his foggy mind. Someone, anyone, seeing Byleth as a wife, and quite possibly worse, imagining him as a husband her husband threatens to fry his brain.

Of course, one day Byleth will make a wonderful wife for someone who should thank the Goddess every day. It just couldn’t be him, no matter how much his heart yearns. For someone as dirty and tainted as he is, just being allowed to remain next to her should be more than enough. Never mind that Byleth deserves someone better, someone good, without hands smeared in blood and a fractured mind.

It is a sign of his inadequacy that he can’t stop the craving.

„Reign in your mind, boar.“ Felix sneers, though the softer tones in his voice betray his words. The alcohol has dulled his edges too, as well as the end of the war.

„I- I don’t know what you mean.“ he stutters, unconvincingly.

„At this rate, your pathetic yearning will become the talk of the year.“

„Oh shush!“, Annette leans on Felix‘ shoulders, pushing his head down with a giggle. „He‘s just being stupid, we are all still stressed from the war. What he meant to say was, you should talk to her. You barely have, for the entirety of today‘s festivities.“

Of course he wants to talk to Byleth. Dimitri wants nothing more than to stick by her side from dawn ‘til dusk. But hasn’t he asked enough from her, for she hadn’t left his side for the entire war. And with the alcohol flowing through his veins, holding himself back will be near impossible.

„Let her enjoy the fest, Annette. I don’t doubt she has seen enough of me for a lifetime.“

Annette scoffs in unison with Felix, then bounces up undeterred, her suspicions smirk clear as day even through the fog of inebriation. „Well, forgive me, your Highness, but if you insist on being stubborn, I will simply call her over!“

Before Dimitri can stop her, she disappears into the crowd, too determined to take notice of her own sway. Once again, he will be nothing but a bother to Byleth.

Groaning, he buries his head in his arms. Maybe Annette will forget, maybe she will spare Byleth the humiliation of being bound to the burdensome king once again.

But of course, Fate isn’t so kind to him.

„Oh, there you are, Dimitri!“

It’s embarrassing, the way his ears perk up like a dog.

„Byleth!“, he smiles, though his mouth feels lopsided, for some reason. „Have you been enjoying the fest- festivities?“

She nods, and despite the blur that is his vision Dimitri is sure that the corners of her mouth lift slightly.

„Being around everyone in such high spirits, it’s almost like being back with Father‘s band of mercenaries after a job done well.“

She stands right next to him, laying a hand over his, and it feels like the warmth of the sun has concentrated right above his skin.

„You’ve been drinking like a true mercenary too, your highness.“ she teases and Dimitri flushes helplessly, as if his cheeks have ever stopped burning. Maybe this is the one downside to indulging, because he is even worse at suppressing his feelings than usual.

„You saw?“ he all but squeaks.

„I couldn’t possibly miss y- it. Haven’t seen you stand since.“ It almost sounds like a challenge.

„I‘ll have you know, the strength of the Blaiddyd crest includes inhib- I mean tolerance.“

Bad idea.

The moment he stands, his entire world tilts and crashes to one side, sending him tumbling sideways into Byleth. Dimitri can feel the softness of her breasts press and mold against his chest. With a gasp, he recoils, falling backwards, only just avoiding collapsing entirely by the grace of Byleth catching him around the waist, pulling him close.

Her steadfast touch makes a noise bubble up in his throat that he is just barely able to swallow back down, lest it bring shame to his entire bloodline.

Instead, he slumps into her with shaking legs, shame burning across his face like wildfire. Pathetic. Pathetic pathetic pathetic.

Across from them, his friends can barely stifle their giggles, though Felix might plan regicide after all.

Dimitri doesn’t feel like laughing, all of the sudden.

„I‘m sorry,“ and now he’s stumbling over his words. He shouldn’t have come here. He shouldn’t have joined. Believing he could be part of this was a mistake, when he’s capable of nothing but being a burden to everyone.

„This- this is unbecoming of a king. I shouldn’t have- this is my fault, I know. I just- I can’t be seen like this. I should be better, I-“

Suddenly, softly, Byleth lays her free hand on his cheek, tilting his head to catch her gaze. Despite himself, he seeks her touch like a starving man.

„Let‘s go outside, there are some benches we could sit on and get some fresh air. A break would be nice.“

Dejectedly, Dimitri nods. It’s a charade for who exactly? Everyone in this hall must know it is him who is a pathetic drunk, too stupid to stand, too prideful to know his limit. He can feel their eyes on him, staring and judging, knowing that this deplorable excuse of a king would be sure to bring them ruin.

Still, Byleth holds both a physical as well as a metaphorical hand out for him, a crutch to rest his failures on.

„I fear I will just fall and shame you“, he admits, turning away, unable to meet her eyes. Hoping his words are not slurring.

„Nonsense“, Byleth responds, ever the professor. „I couldn’t count all the times I had to carry my father when he was far worse off. Take a breath and mirror my steps. You will be fine.“

Her grip around his waist is steady, strong. She doesn’t falter, even when he stumbles and trips like a deer on ice. It’s pitiful. It’s more than he could dream of.

When they finally reach the balcony, Dimitri breathes a sigh of relief. Byleth guides him to sit down and even this he can’t accomplish without swaying.

Some part of him expects her to leave him there. He would deserve it, undoubtedly. But of course, she doesn’t. As if its no question at all, she sits down right next to him, a pillar for him to lean against. Once again.

He doesn’t deserve her, he never has.

Dimitri takes a deep breath. He must pay for his shortcomings, he must redeem himself for yet another long list of mistakes accumulated in a single evening. He must make himself worth Byleth’s time.

„I apologize. It seems I overestimated my condition. It shouldn’t fall on you to save me from myself once again.“

Byleth makes a sort of dismissive gesture. „I hear it’s a Farghean tradition to get humbled by liquor.“

Somehow, despite it all, she draws a giggle from him.

„You should have heard the stories Rodrigue told of his and my father‘s academy years.“

She leans her head against his and the contact alone steals all sense from his mind. Not even the reminder of his loss can pierce the wall of comfort and buzz formed around him like a shield.

„Oh, he did share the occasional tale, in the time I got to know him. Had I heard the stories first, I would have expected both their sons to be partying trouble makers.“

„I fear, at least in part, I have done nothing but create troubles.“

„Oh shush. We can’t change the past, we can only continue moving forward. And besides, seeing you loosen up and enjoy yourself, it was worth it all.“

Huh?

Dimitri freezes, caught between the fondness in her voice and his overactive imagination.

At the same time, Byleth seems to realise what she said, and if he didn’t know better, if his vision was less blurred, he’d think she was blushing.

„I guess we have Sylvain to thank.“

Dimitri sees this for what it is: a weak attempt at distraction. But he is putty in her hands, so he follows obediently.

„Rather to blame, for my current state. And those wicked One-More-Shot‘s.“

Byleth snorts. She actually snorts.

„You don’t think it might have something to do with that entire bottle you downed?“

„I don’t know why I did that…“ Dimitri lies, the scene, —their words— still burning a blush onto his face.

„You‘ve always been a lousy liar, your Highness. Though, of course you don’t have to tell me.“ she adds gently.

He stupidly shakes his head, making the world spin violently, immediately dropping it back onto her shoulder. „Those nobles truly know how to get under my skin, even if on accident. The past… the past five years have only reduced my capabilities and made me much too useless.“

Somehow, like it is the most natural thing in the world, Byleth‘s hand finds his again. She had made a habit of staying on his blind side. Dimitri can’t remember a time since losing that eye, that anyone being close has felt so safe.

„You’re so warm, as always“, he sighs. „I could never see the sun again, and not grow dissatisfied. You are my light, my star, my sun, my-“

Just barely, before ruin can tumble from his lips, Dimitri catches himself. If he thought he was blushing before, he was wrong. His face turns beet red, from his neck to the tips of his ears. In horror, he brings his free hand up to his face, covering as much as he can.

„Goddess, I- I apologize, I don’t know what came over me. The alcohol has me acting like a fool.“

A love-struck fool, his mind supplies, unhelpfully.

Byleth just smiles, in that soft, barely visible way of hers. „This is what I meant. Seeing you be so… so free, drinking too much with your friends and letting the alcohol make you silly. This casual normalcy is what we fought the war for. I… I want this. I want it, again and again.“

Oh, he will never stop blushing. Her words almost sound suspiciously like a confession. Leaning towards her, just a bit closer, turning his head, their lips touching; It would be so easy. But no, Dimitri isn’t that drunk to delude himself with fantasies of his wretched love being reciprocated.

Instead, almost unconsciously, he nuzzles his heavy head further into the crook of her neck. „They said with how I was drinking, I would make a fine Farghean husband.“ He says, giggling to himself. The thought is as dreamy as it is absurd.

„You will.“

He chokes and coughs, his entire body shaking with barely contained laughter, until it bursts from him in a bellowing howl and wheezing breaths.

It doesn’t occur to him that Byleth doesn’t seem to be laughing.

„I mean it.“ she pouts.

Dimitri has barely regained control when she sends him into another round of giggles. „You jest; You can’t possible mean that“, he gets out, once he can finally breathe. „Oh, professor, your humor is as dry as always. You’ve seen the beast I am firsthand. Even these joyous times can’t deny my brutish strength, my broken mind. All the booze in the world can only hide my nature and their voices for so long.“

Byleth averts her gaze, turning towards the clear night sky.

„You‘ve always felt so greatly, Dimitri. You feel so much, I can only imagine the strength with which you love. That is a gift, I think, to whoever will be so lucky to be chosen in love by you.“

The alcohol and laughter begins to turn his ecstasy into fatigue. He doesn’t notice himself slipping down to her breasts, only wonders why he is laying so softly. Maybe he is already dreaming, for her to speak the words he would never dare admit he craves.

„Mmmh, I doubt anyone else woul‘ agree, ‘f they saw me like you have.“

It doesn’t matter to him, not really. There is no need to think about being anyone‘s fine Farghean husband, because his heart is already bound tight to the one person he could never atone enough for.

But, like a dirty sinner, he can bask in her warmth and light, and for a moment feel peace he hasn’t earned yet. And that is enough.

„Forgive me,“ Dimitri yawns, then hiccups. „I‘ll rest my eye, jus’ for a moment. I’ll return to the fest- the fesiv- inside soon enough…“

That is how he drifts off, unaware of his body nestling into her breasts, or her gentle caressing hand carding through his hair.

Neither does he hear Byleth‘s gentle whisper for only the night and Sothis.

„You silly, blind prince.“

[honeycollectswhump]

What a Monster feels

@gritpyre

The dead‘s chorus drowns out the sounds of war, honing in on a single general that Dimitri can only see with the same hate-stricken face he wore on that fateful day. Just as he doomed his father and Glenn to death, Dimitri will repay it tenfold. He will rip this filth into shreds—

Uncaring of his comrades, he charges forward, a true boar. 

The small voice telling him he should be better than this, he is supposed to be the noble king, is buried under his seething hatred, wishing for nothing more than the general’s head pierced on his lance. 

Dimitri shatters the sword the general holds up in a feeble attempt to protect himself with ease. The next swipe of his lance skewers him up, breaking the pathetic armor. 

The worm falls backwards, gasping for air, claws reaching out towards him. Disgusting. 

How dare he grasp to claim another victim of Duscur. Wasn’t the carnage he got enough?

Crushing his hand is as easy as breathing, turning his bones to dust with a single stomp. It’s exhilarating. 

Avenge us! Bring us to justice! Make him suffer!, the ghosts scream, surrounding him, watching like vultures. 

„I promise, Father. I promise.“ 

He raises his lance again, relishing in the general‘s terrified expression, lips breathlessly trying to beg for mercy. Mercy? Dimitri laughs to himself, the thought as disgusting as it is absurd. Did the wretch show mercy to the children of Duscur, to the Innocent and civilians? Did he hold his sword back during the slaughter of Glenn? Of his father? 

No. Of course not.

He stabs his lance downwards, again, again, again. The squelching is like music to the deads’ ears. They tell him as much, cheering, demanding more bloodshed. 

Dimitri doesn’t notice when his lance hits the ground instead of flesh and bones, turning the general into a corpse and the corpse into pieces. 

Only when there is no more bone to smash to dust does his mind return to the battlefield. He breathes out a laugh, like celebrating a job well done, wiping the sweat from his face when something mind catches his eye—

Dimitri’s heart stops. Like a deer caught in the gaze of a gun, he stares. 

The Ashen Demon stares back. 

She knows what you are., Glenn sneers into his ear, as if he wasn’t relishing in the carnage just moments before. 

Strike her down before she decides to rid the world of a monster like yourself., his Father warns.

Dimitri doesn’t move. Instead his mind runs a mile a minute, honing in on the undeniable fact that he just ruined his one chance at winning the war. There is no way Jerald‘s band of mercenaries would ever work for a beast like him. 

He has doomed the entirety of Faerghus because he couldn’t hide his wretched nature out of pure selfishness. 

The Ashen Demon‘s unnervingly blank gaze moves down to what remains of the general. 

Dimitri wants to explain himself. Instead, he stumbles backwards, disgusted by the extent of his own cruelty. He has never been anything but a bloodthirsty boar. 

When he sees the Ashen Demon raise one hand, the sizzling on her palm only giving him a moment‘s warning of the fire spell, he doesn’t move. To be executed right here, right now, the proof of his wickedness at his feet, it’s exactly what a creature like him deserves. 

Instead, the mangled corpse of the general becomes engulfed in hungry flames, greedily devouring all of him until only ash remains. Too quickly, too much like Duscur. 

Wordlessly, the Ashen Demon‘s gaze returns to his eyes. It feels like a warning. Then she turns around, carving her way through the crowd of war with terrifying precision, disappearing. 

Maybe it’s some mercy, to allow him to finish this fight, to free this region, before the truth about the Boar King ruins everything his Father had worked so hard for. 

* * * 

After the battle concluded, with little casualties thanks to the Ashen Demon, Dimitri hurried to find Felix, grabbing him too roughly by the arm and dragging him into a spare room. 

„What is up with you, Boar?“ Felix sneers, his patience already worn thin by Dimitri‘s mere presence. He fears it’ll just get worse. 

„Felix, I-“ the words die on his tongue, already bracing himself for the vitriol that will follow. „The Ashen Demon, she knows. She has seen my boarish wretched truth, she knows my cruelty knows no bounds.“

„What the fuck did you do?“ Felix snarls, disgust seeping from every syllable.

„One of the generals we fought, I recognized him from Duscur. I fear I lost myself in ways I don’t dare recount. Though I don’t know how much she was there for, she saw the aftermath.“ 

Shame twists his stomach like poison.

The way Felix paces around the room, face showing a mixture of abject hatred and exasperation only adds to his tension.

„Would it kill you to keep your animalistic rage under wraps one single time? Are you so eager to throw Faerghus‘ entire future away? Fodlán‘s too, while you’re at it?“

Any apologies Dimitri wants to think of just cut his throat up. „We know I am a cruel man. After I killed my uncle in cold blood-“

„Oh for the Goddess‘ sake, will you shut up with that for once? Maybe your animal brain has already forgotten but it was a public execution. We were there. Rufus was judged by the law and executed according to the law. You may remember the multiple accounts of high treason and conspiracy?“ 

Felix sighs strong enough to make Dimitri flinch. „What you are is stupid. It is a wonder you don’t have to take in each breath manually. Don’t you dare compare a lawful execution to your twisted acts of revenge.“

„I- I apologise, Felix“, Dimitri curses himself for stumbling pathetically over his words like a naughty child. He should be grateful to not be cut down this instant. 

„Don’t apologise to me, you fool! Go use your kingly words and talk to the mercenary before she can be convinced by others to tell the public. I will see what meager funds we can scrape together to pay her off, if it comes that far.“ 

* * *

It is beyond Dimitri why he finds the famed Ashen Demon in the makeshift greenhouse they set up. At first, he didn’t believe Dedue‘ insistence that if she wasn’t on the training grounds, she’d be inbetween plants, staring blankly at flowers and herbs. 

Though, maybe, she appreciates flowers enough to not bring the garden down by executing Dimitri. It seems to be safer than meeting on the training grounds; safer than a beast like him deserves to be. 

He finds her squatting down in front of the medicinal herb section. Briefly, Dimitri wonders what a killer like her could possibly want from healing herbs, then he immediately chastises himself for the thought. He had shown her who the true monster was, clear as day. 

Quite possibly worse, this leaves his brain no direction but to stare at her form, the way her curves are no longer hidden by that mantel she wears on the field. The way her mint hair spills over her shoulders like water. 

Not for the first time, the sight of her steals all plans and reason from his mind and leaves him a stumbling, bumbling fool. If he believed the goddess had any goodwill left for him, he’d pray for strength or intervention. 

But of course, nothing is ever safe even within his thoughts. 

„Why are you staring?“ the Ashen Demon asks, then adds „Your Majesty“ as if only a second thought. 

Dimitri freezes up, mortified at having been caught, and terrified, suddenly lost in an endless sea that threatens to swallow him up. He needs to fix his transgressions, yet is left scrambling without any hint of an idea on how to approach. 

„I, I apologize, Miss…?“ Mid-sentence Dimitri realizes he doesn’t even know her name. Like the cursed selfish boar he is, he never thought to find out. He never bothered thinking of her as anything other than the Ashen Demon, yet that feels wholly inappropriate all of the sudden. 

The Ashen Demon just hums, not even turning around to face him, not being able to stand the disgusting sight of him. Not daring to look an unpredictable beast, a rabid animal, into the eyes. 

Yet, as much as she wishes, he can’t leave her be. 

„I fear I must steal your time for a while longer“, Dimitri starts, feeling more like a fish out of water and less like a King talking to a hired blade. „About what conspired on the battlefield.“

The Ashen Demon hums again, then turns around to face him. Her uncannily shining mint eyes send a shiver through his spine. 

„Was my performance not to your expectations?“ she asks, her deadpan sending him reeling.

„I- oh. No, of course not. In fact, you were extraordinary as usual. Your prowess has become an invaluable asset to our army.“

What are you? A love-struck buffoon? Tattling on the incompetence of your own army. What will your next step be? Telling her exactly how to blackmail the pathetic king of Faerghus for the kingdom's last pieces of gold?, his Father suddenly spits into Dimitri‘s ear. 

A flinch ricochets through his body. Under the Ashen Demon‘s gaze he feels bare, his threads coming undone. He stumbles over his words like a child learning to walk. He grasps at straws, fishing for a reaction, and yet her stare never falters. 

Even Felix doesn’t look at him so… unnervingly 

„No, I came to apologise for what you had to see out there. That cruel, twisted, no, vile behavior of mine. When I should have led by example, I let myself become a beast. For that, for having to bear witness to that, you have my deepest apologies.“

The Ashen Demon blinks twice, eyes unfurling his soul, observing the deepest foul crevices he so desperately attempts to hide. 

„I am a mercenary…“ she enunciates each word like he is a child lacking understanding, then watches him for a reaction like a mountain lion watches a deer. 

Whatever reaction she hopes for is beyond Dimitri. Nothing he does is able to satisfy her, so she continues on. „It will take more than the bloodshed of war to unnerve me.“

Is this some twisted game of hers, to make him name his crime like standing before a judge. 

„But surely you understand that this is not what I mean. What you saw-“ Say it, boy! „What I did far exceeded what I had any right to do, even as a king. I have shown myself as nothing but a deplorable beast to you, relishing in the terror of my opponents. How can I claim to stand against the Empire when my own hatred, my own methods rival them in cruelty?!“

Dimitri‘s voice breaks, a crescendo of voices ringing in his ears, reminding him. But he can’t stop now, not when he stands so close on the precipice of absolution, if only she forgives. He can’t allow himself to hide even a single shred of his depravity. 

„Not war has stained my hands red, but my own corruption. There was nothing human about the way I ripped that general to shreds, like a wretched demon. I understand wholly if I disgust you, that you regret to have ever cooperated with me. A beast like me, that has given up its own humanity, should not have the right to breathe. I am nothing more than a rotten amalgamation of the worst of war, controlled by my animalistic urges to destroy. A beast living for nothing than revenge—“

„What does a bear feel when he rips into a deer? Does he feel ecstasy? Or is it a mundane motion without a thought?“

Suddenly, the Ashen Demon stands, too close, right in front of him. She moves unnaturally, silently, like a stalking predator. It’s easy to imagine being her victim on the battlefield. Even so, she doesn’t strike.

„Between us, I am the one like an animal. To take lives without emotion, like a wolf kills sheep.“

„Then I am a monster, worse than a mere animal killing to survive.“

Dimitri clenches his first in front of his chest, speaking with the same conviction as a king confessing to the goddess. 

The Ashen Demon tilts her head slightly, as she takes his hand in hers. Touching him like it is nothing at all. Like he isn’t a king and a beast. 

„What you are is human.“

He wants to scramble away, shaking his head, but her grasp on his hand is strong. Secure.

„Aren’t emotions what makes us human? And what is anger, what is delight and ecstasy if not human.“

She blinks at him, as if waiting for him to follow. Dimitri isn’t sure he ever can.

„You know, as a mercenary you come to expect your death will be emotionless. One day you are there and the next you are gone, without motivation, without purpose. To be killed with emotion, with a purpose, even if it is hatred, is a luxury we aren't usually privy to. I think, if I could choose, I would want my death to bring emotions, even if they are delighted by my passing.“

Dimitri can’t help the pathetic little gasp breaking free. If Felix could hear her, he’d call her foolish, to suggest the boar king could be anything other than inhumanly cruel. But here she is, the woman he only knows to refer to as the Ashen Demon, insisting on his humanity like she never doubted it at all; even when he had been her enemy, murdering her fellow mercenaries without a second thought.

And isn’t it proof of his cruelty that he doesn’t even know her name, that he has resolved to calling her a demon when all she has done is treat him like an equal. Maybe the moniker of demon would be more befitting of himself. 

He doesn’t know her and already doesn’t deserve her. 

Yet, he begs, „Please, don’t talk about your death so nonchalantly.“

The barest hint of emotion bleeds into her features, from the curve of her mouth to the shine of her eyes. She reaches up, standing on her tiptoes, brushing a slender finger against his cheek. 

„You’re crying“, she states, furrowing her brows slightly in confusion. “Did I say something upsetting? Father always warned me I was bad at this comforting thing…“

Goddess, how much more of a fool is he trying to be. A wretch, a beast, and now a blubbering mess having to be comforted like a child by its nanny. His father, stepmother, Glenn, their voice drone in the back of his mind like a migraine, ridiculing him. Deservedly. 

Though, for some reason they never get too loud. 

Embarrassed, Dimitri sniffles, wiping at his eyes like a toddler. „No, the fault lies solely with me. All of my behavior towards you has been wholly inappropriate of a king. I hope you can forgive me. But… May I ask for your name? I fear I have even neglected that duty, to know those that fight for me. I have started this war, and yet I continue to disappoint.“

„My name is Byleth.“

„Byleth…“ he muses, letting the sound of her name distract him. „Then, you may call me Dimitri.“

„Okay, Dimitri,“ she repeats, stumping him once again. None of his friends, let alone his employees in the army dare to call him anything other than His Majesty, even if he near begs them to.

„You are a good person. A good king too. We may have been on opposing sides longer than I have fought for you, but I know this to be true.“

„How?“, he chokes, „You‘ve seen my brutish behavior, the destruction I am capable of. And still, you insist?“

„Maybe it is because I have seen you from enemy lines. There is something fundamentally different about you, compared to any other employer I have worked for. I have seen cruel men command and rule. They don’t protect like you do. They don’t care like you do. I have yet to see you act selfishly.“

„Oh, but I am nothing but a selfish wretch.“ Dimitri shakes his head, unbelieving. She must know. She simply must. The ghosts tell him as much, reminding him of every transgression, too many to count. 

„And yet you fight with no regard for your own life. Every other employer I have fought for has sent us to the frontlines with little care, as long as we took their place and got the job done.“

Dimitri wants to intercept, tell her how despicable her employers were, to treat her like this. But Byleth allows no interruption.

„You are different though. You storm through enemy lines, offering your life to keep your soldiers safe. Your strength doesn’t hide your recklessness. I find myself following you, burning arrows before they can pierce your back, not just because you are my employer. It‘s confusing.“

Shame coils in his stomach and twists a blush up his neck. How dare he take advantage of her like this.

Judging her employers, when you are worse… stupid boy., his father sneers into his ear.

But, even if he focuses, he can’t find a hint of accusation in Byleth‘s even voice. 

She clasps a hand on his shoulder, undeterred by the flinch zapping through his body. „I like fighting for you. So, if you won’t protect yourself, then I will… Dimitri.“

Then she leaves, walking out of the greenhouse without looking back. Maybe he should be thankful that Byleth won‘t see the blazing blush burning over his face or how his clenched fist shakes. Light tingling breaks through a tight knot of shame.

Dimitri stands, frozen as a statue, mind sputtering. Even the ghosts have fallen silent, perhaps aghast by her audacity, perhaps speechless by the casualness of her declaration. 

After what feels like hours or perhaps just seconds, Felix comes storming into the greenhouse, only to stop mid-step, staring at Dimitri. 

„It seems that problem has been taken care of. Now get a hold of yourself, Boar, before anyone sees you.“

[tiktoks-for-dead-pope]

[farisyawritesfic]

This is the funniest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.

[whitmerule]

Perfect example of an untranslatable joke. 😂

[brightlotusmoon]

One of my favorite jokes ever

[stripeyworm]

My guiding light, my beloved

[decompose1]

people are soooo mean to the color yellow and it hurts my heart like u mean the color of the sun!?!? daffodils and buttercups and dandelions!? canary feathers and fresh butter and the warm glow of light and the trees in autumn???? for shame. joyless.

[k-eke]

Choose your online engagement.

(Sorry for not posting as often as I used to, but I will never leave Tumblr <3)

[rjzimmerman]

Love Fireflies? Here's How You Can Help Scientists Save Them.

Despite their luminescent glow, lightning bugs have remained a conservation mystery until relatively recently. Now researchers are relying o

Excerpt from this story from Audubon:

“I can’t tell you how many people come that are like, ‘I grew up seeing fireflies, and I don’t see as many now,’ ” says Matt Johnson, the center’s director.

Candace Fallon, a conservation biologist at the Xerces Society for Invertebrate Conservation, had long heard similar concerns. But when she checked the literature in 2018, she found little to no information on firefly trends. In fact, there was no comprehensive population data for any of the 179 known firefly species in the United States.

Fallon and a team at the International Union for Conservation of Nature set out to determine how American fireflies are faring. In 2021 they published their findings, the first list of conservation statuses for U.S. fireflies. Of the 132 species they reviewed, more than half lacked enough data to conclude anything for certain. But among the species whose status was clear, the scientists found 20 to be threatened or near threatened.

Fireflies, which are actually bioluminescent beetles, face many of the same threats as birds. Habitat loss—especially of wetlands, given the insects' preference for moist areas—is a major issue. (Indeed, the most threatened fireflies are the species that depend on only one type of landscape, such as the critically endangered Bethany Beach firefly, which primarily occupies freshwater wetlands between sand dunes along a 20-mile stretch of the Delaware coast.) Rising seas and extreme weather events drown coastal birds' nests as well as firefly habitat, while pesticides kill insect prey that both fireflies and birds rely on—and likely fireflies themselves. Light pollution, which can disorient nocturnal migratory birds and contribute to fatal building collisions, also disrupts lightning bugs’ ability to communicate: Flashing in a brightly lit environment is like trying to yell across a crowd.

To help fill critical knowledge gaps, researchers are turning to community science. The Fireflyers International Network collects data on iNaturalist from all over the world, and in 2022 Fallon and the Xerces Society launched the Firefly Atlas, where U.S. participants can share incidental observations and even conduct field surveys. These crowdsourced records can illuminate how species are trending in the face of threats.

In some parts of the country, community scientists are logging the first records of fireflies. In the West, the flashing beetles are such a rare sight that some people believe they are imaginary. “It’s like: unicorns, dragons, fireflies,” says Christy Bills, an entomologist at the Natural History Museum of Utah. Western fireflies have always been harder to find: They appear late at night, in small numbers, and in marshy areas where people don’t often hang out. So Bills and her partners at Brigham Young University started the Western Firefly Project to focus attention on them. Today its participants have spotted fireflies in 27 of 29 counties in Utah, where previously there had been only a few documented sightings—and in Idaho, Wyoming, and Montana, so exciting to Bills that she likens the discoveries to finding gold.