#fe3h dimitri x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

return-of-a-space-cowboy · 8 months

Note

Can you please write Yandere Dimitri from fire Emblem forcing Edelgard’s sister to marry him after he won the war.

Ok I'm having a little too much fun with this idea. Would have finished this sooner but I got sick then as soon as I recovered I got back pains and was pretty much bed bound for a few days. Feeling so much better now though.

Chapter one is just mainly setting the plot.

Eagle under the lion's paw Pt 1

(Yandere Dimitri Blaiddyd X female reader)

The last thing you could remember was being taken underneath the castle you and your siblings called home. you were told that it wasn't safe outside so you had all been brought to the basement. You held your sister Edelgard's hand tightly as only a small candle dimly lit the room and the muttering amongst your siblings grew.

You woke up in the middle of a farm, luckily the owners were nice enough to offer you a place to stay when they found you. You felt strange as you walked back with them, like your body was not your own. They took you in and allowed you to bathe. You looked at yourself in the mirror and were shocked. You were older, a young adult at this point. You nearly fainted from the shock but were able to catch yourself on a bench before you fell. Even as you scrubbed all the mud off of you you cringed, it felt so wrong to be in this body. How could this have happened? You desperately raked your mind for a clue but you couldn't remember anything after being left in that room.

After you had bathed the farmers had offered you dinner and asked you questions.

"What is your name dear?" The lady asked.

"It's (Y/n) von Hresvelg" you replied. The couple's eyes widened before they began to whisper. You couldn't quite make out what they said to one another.

"You are a member of the Adrestian empire's royal family? I thought the only child of the emperor was Edelgard" she said in what you assumed was a sceptical tone. Edelgard was the only child? No, that wasn't true. What about all of your other brothers and sisters? before you even had the chance to figure out how to respond there was a knock on the door. The man got up and answered the door.

"My apologies for interrupting but I heard my Niece was spotted around here. Do you perhaps have an idea as to where she might be?" a familiar voice asked. It was your uncle's.

You stood up and made your way to the door and he was indeed there.

"There you are" he said, his voice unusually cold. The man moved out of the way so that you could join him. Your uncle did not look a day older than when you had last seen him.

"Thank you for caring for her" he thanked the couple, however his voice held very little gratitude.

"Now we should be leaving" he said as he held your wrist. It struck you as strange, he held your wrist with authority. Very unlike him.

"Thank you for the hospitality" you thanked them before you left. He took you to a carriage and you entered.

"What's happened?" You ask him as soon as he enters.

"What do you mean (Y/n)?" He asked you. Almost cluelessly.

"I can't remember anything after I was seven, I have no clue what's going on" you explained.

"Strange… I was told your carriage was attacked by bandits as you were on your way to the officers academy, perhaps you sustained a head injury that left you with memory loss during the attack" he explained.

"What about my siblings? The couple told me that Edelgard was the only child of the empire" you asked.

"There was a riot in the empire many years back, you and Edelgard were the only survivors out of your siblings after that attack" he explained. It broke your heart when you heard his explanation. Tears trickled down your face. You hadn't been as close to your other siblings as you had with Edelgard but still it hurt to hear they were gone. You expected your uncle to at least offer you some sympathy like he usually did but he just sat there.

"We'll be at the officers academy later tonight. Tomorrow you'll be attending your first class, I'm sure that Edelgard will be overjoyed to know you're safe"

When you had arrived you were quickly guided to your dorm as your uncle explained the situation to the professor. While you walked to your room you noticed a white haired woman staring at you. She seemed familiar, almost friendly if it weren't for her scrutinising gaze. You tried to pay her no mind as you continued your way to the room.

You didn't even unpack, you just laid in bed and thought about what your uncle said. You were sceptical, he was a completely different person, he used to be so caring. You remember when he had taken you and Edelgard to Fargus. You had been very ill at the time and he'd spent all the time he could to comfort you but now after a supposed attack he didn't even ask you if you were alright.

You stayed up for hours tossing around in bed. Unable to sleep with your head filled the brim with questions.

🦅🦅🦅

That morning you had gotten ready as quickly as possible and made your way to class. Most of the class had already arrived and their gaze was on you.

"Hey it's the new girl!" a blue haired boy shouted and the green haired boy next to him turned his head to look at you while still resting his head on his hand.

"Can you lower your volume Casper, the whole school probably heard you" he responded lethargically to the boy beside him.

You turned to the left and saw that white haired woman from last night at the bookshelf. She noticed you and that stony gaze returned.

"So what's your name?" A feminine voice asked. You turned to see a brunette lady. You jumped a little at how close she was to you.

"Aww I'm sorry, I didn't want to scare you" she apologised as she took a step back.

"No I'm sorry, I should have noticed you sooner" you apologised.

"So what's your name?" She repeated.

"(Y/n) von Hresvelg" you told her and she gasped.

"Edie, you never told us you had a sister!" She exclaimed as she addressed the white haired lady. She looked at you like you were a ghost, and you assumed you held a similar expression to her.

"Edel" you muttered as you stared back at her. You should have realised sooner it was her but that hair, why was her hair white? Everything was getting stranger by the second.

"You look at eachother like this is a reunion after being away from each other for so long"

"It is" Edelgard spoke in a voice that was stern and held no love. It made you want to cry. She was the older sister who had always stood up for you and made sure you were safe. She would help you when you fell and let you sleep in her bed whenever you had nightmares. She was your protective older sister. What happened to make her reaction to you filled with such disdain? You didn't want to bring it up now for who knows what this issue was an what drama it would stir.

Soon a lady, elegant yet somewhat unkempt, entered the class.

"I see you're getting to know our new student, (Y/n)" she commented as she made her way to the podium.

"Please be accommodating to her, I've been informed she has some memory issues following an injury she sustained" she notified the class as the few who were standing quickly got into their seats.

You followed suit and sat down to before the class started.

You eagerly took notes but you couldn't help but notice the occasional glances both Edelgard and an ebony haired man shot at you. Why were they continuously looking at you like you were going to do something?

When class ended you decided to try and talk to Edelgard. You followed her as she left but was quickly stopped by the man who had been staring at you earlier.

"What do you intend to do?" he asked you with venom dripping off of his words.

"I want to talk to Edelgard" you explained, you attempted to pass him but he grabbed you by the wrist.

"I cannot allow that," he replied.

"So I'm not allowed to talk to my sister? I don't understand why I can't" you said as you pulled your hand out of his grip.

"Tell me, why can't I?" you continued.

"My job is to protect her highness at all cost" he replied, not really giving you a proper answer. It hurt like a knife to be told you weren't even allowed to talk to your own sister who you loved and adored and the way he looked at you with those eyes made you feel like you were a horrible person. What did you do to deserve such treatment? To be identified as a threat to your own sister.

You couldn't take it anymore. You turned away.

"I understand the concern for my sister…" you just sniffled, holding in your tears before walking the other way. You didn't know where you were going, you just walked you ended up in what you assumed was the training ground. Your eyes fell onto a blonde haired man wielding a lance with ease. You stood and watched him. His movements had you in a trance.

'If only I could wield a lance like that' you thought to yourself. Perhaps that's what you'd do. Professor Manuela had informed you that the students of the academy participated in monthly missions where students would fight alongside the knights of Seiros. So it was best if you learnt how to wield a weapon soon.

You took mental notes on how he manoeuvred. Perhaps tomorrow you'd come back and train.

🦅🦅🦅

The next day was much the same as before. You had questions thrown your way about being a Hresvelg. Still Edelgard and the ebony man who's name was Hubert watched you closely. The brunette yesterday who'd introduced herself as Dorathea sat next to you and chatted with you during breaks. She was a former opera singer from the mittlefrank opera company. She reminded you of your oldest sister Karoline, she had been fair and loved to sing.

"I don't understand why Edelgard is avoiding me" you sighed. You'd already explained your memory dilemma to her and she'd been very supportive. Offering you any help you'd need.

"Edie's probably just in shock. I'm sure you two will be comfortable with each other again, maybe just do your own thing. You're both still in each other's presence, she'll see you living your life and she'll have to start talking to you again" she explained.

"It's much the same with adoring men" she commented.

Maybe she was right, you should try and be independent. Just give Edelgard some time.

"That sounds like a good idea" you replied.

"So do you want to have some afternoon tea after class?" She asked.

"I was actually planning on going to the training ground for a bit, since I'll have to be ready for whatever this month's mission is but I'd be happy to have dinner with you at the dining hall" you replied.

"Understandable, dinner sounds great thought" replied with a smile.

🦅🦅🦅

When class ended you grabbed your things and put them back in your room before making your way to the training ground. You made your way to a stand that held all the training lances and grabbed one, to your surprise they were a bit heavier than you thought. You stood in one spot and attempted to swing it around, you struggled a fair bit, nearly falling in the process. You wondered how that man yesterday made it look so easy.

You got lost in your thoughts, trying to figure out how to use the lance. Not noticing that the blonde haired man approached you.

"Try putting your right foot back a little more" he suggested, snapping you out of your thoughts.

"Oh, thank you" you thanked as you repositioned yourself like he suggested.

"Is this your first time wielding a lance? I'd be more than willing to teach you" he offered.

"Thank you…" you replied.

"Dimitri" he said.

"Yes, thank you Dimitri" you said with a nod.

"It is no problem, I assumed you'd be here trying out a lance after yesterday" he said.

"You saw me?" You muttered. Rather flustered.

"There's nothing wrong with watching me spar, I'm flattered to have inspired you to try it out" he reassured you.

"Bend your knees and try to swing now" he said as he took a few steps back.

You followed his instruction before swinging the lance. His advice helped, you didn't feel like you were going to lose your balance, yet something still felt off.

"Did that help?" He asked.

"It did but something still feels off" you replied. His blue eyes inspected you as he walked back to you.

"Try moving this hand closer to the head" he told you as he tapped on your dominant hand and moved his finger to the new spot.

Again you followed his instruction and he gave you room to swing again. This time it felt much easier.

"That was an excellent swing, with some more practice I'm sure you'll wield a lance with no issue" he praised you.

"Thank you Dimitri" you thanked him.

"Could you teach me some more? Only if you're willing to of course" you asked him.

"Of course, I believe training together would benefit us both…" he replied. He paused for a second before speaking again.

"Forgive my rudeness, It slipped my mind to even ask your name" he apologised.

"It's fine, my name is (y/n)" you replied as you held out your hand to shake his. You didn't want to share your last name as it had only caused you drama since attending.

"You are Edelgard's sister?" He asked as he took your hand and shook it.

"Ah you already know" a sliver of disappointment escaped your mouth.

"Word travels fast around the monastery," he replied.

"It is a near impossible feat to keep a secret here" continued.

#yandere fire emblem #yandere fe3h #yandere fire emblem three houses #yandere x reader #dimitri blaiddyd x reader #fe3h dimitri x reader #dimitri x reader

85 notes · View notes

allovertheplace-writing · 2 years

Note

Hello! Could I request a Claude and Dimitri drabble with a gn reader who just randomly gives them a tangerine almost everyday? Just some soft, fluffy silliness :>

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Fire Emblem Three Houses

Character(s): Claude and Dimitri

Genre: Fluff

Type: Drabble

Description: A tangerine for the clever and the lonely

Warning(s): None other than silly shenanigans <3

Hello there! You absolutely can >:D

This is a very random and I love it so much, tickles me brain LMAO

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

➢ Claude

Curious and amused. With a 'Why, thank you', he'd bow and gently chuckle the first few times. But as you continue showering him in tangerines at random times within the week, he'll begin searching for a reason. As much as he enjoyed the little snacks, why were you giving him them in the first place. Was it for his work or was it because he was a leader?

His curiosity grew just as much as his amusement. Not only did you pick up eccentric ways of delivering those fruity gifts, but you also managed to scare him a few times. From yelling his name and throwing it at him to pretending to have a serious talk if you missed a few days of fruit shenanigans. All managed to make his day brighter, and as time passed.. he missed your ridiculous tangerines. So when he found you sitting upon the sill of his window with a certain sphere, most likely having broke in, he couldn't help but laugh. Nothing really changes, does it?

➢ Dimitri

Puzzled. The confusion he felt was written upon his face every time without fail. The first time he assumed you were giving it to him as a snack, a small, edible, gift to help him push through the day or a reward for his hard work. Though he wouldn't quite call it hard work.

So as you continued to find him in.. rather precarious ways. Sometimes you would wave a hand in front of him as he passed a tree or you'd pop around a corner he was about to turn into, and it was all to give him a tangerine. And the responses he got from you never helped in finding the reason. It drove him a tad insane at times, but he's come to accept the fact that you like giving him tangerines... even in the most curious ways.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

255 notes · View notes

philliamwrites · 2 years

Text

TDWC 08: Secrets of the Forgotten

Pairing: House Leaders x gn! Reader

Warnings: canon divergence, slow burn

Summary: “Please, don’t mind me at all,” Claude beams, his grin as wide as the Cheshire cat’s. Dimitri’s scowl deepens more. His eyes turn into the blue of an icy-cold glacier dominating the coastline of Faerghus in the North. “I do, actually. I wish to speak with the Herald in private.” “Then get in line for an appointment. Our Herald is very popular with folks, as you know.” And with that, he closes the door in Dimitri’s face.

Notes: [01] | 07 | 09

Words: 9.7k

A/N: huge thanks to @raindrops-on-the-roof for joining me on this ride and being my beta-reader!!

i lived, bitch. it's been so long but after a year, i'm back with the next chapter and it was ton of fun working on it becase we're finally introduced to a new figure and get some original content. also claude's a menace and that's what we all want. enjoy!

08: Secrets of the Forgotten

But evil things, in robes of sorrow, Assailed the monarch’s high estate; (Ah, let us mourn, for never morrow Shall dawn upon him desolate!) And round about his home the glory That blushed and bloomed, Is but a dim-remembered story Of the old time entombed.

— Edgar Allan Poe, “The Haunted Palace”

The underground canals running through Abyss, like veins moving blood through the body, are dirty and smell of human waste and decay, but Balthus plays a hand much dirtier and everyone huddling around the small, crooked table in Wilting Rose Inn groans in unison. Except for Byleth. She shows her own cards, a Royal Flush, and earns a round of earnest applause. You try catching her eye to find out whether she has turned time back in her favour but her ever-steady gaze doesn’t betray anything.

“Okay, lesson learnt.” Balthus gets up and stretches, putting his taut muscles on full display. “I never imagined there could be someone worse than Yuri out there. Clearly, I was wrong.”

“Is Yuri really that bad?” you ask, throwing your Flush on the table.

Balthus gives you a seldom serious look. “You have no idea.”

It’s certainly not that hard to imagine. He sometimes has this intense, piercing gaze in his eyes when he talks about knights patrolling too close to Abyss’ entrances for his liking, even though his whole body is a picture of relaxed serenity. He’s an amazing actor, you can give him that.

“Another round?” Byleth asks, already shuffling the cards expertly with her slender fingers. Apparently, part of being a mercenary also entails having an amazing poker face and constantly winning at card games.

“Oh, no, no, I think I’m on guard duty,” Marco, the Rogue, says and flees.

“I forgot I promised to check if there’s enough candle wax to … remake candles,” Ethan, the Marksman, says and bolts.

“These are the men supposed to protect us,” Barbara, the Smith, sighs. “Yet they fear their pride won’t stand after losing a game to a woman.” She gives Byleth a scrutinising look that is also approving at the same time and follows her comrades. The rest of the crowd scatters like butterflies fluttering away after being disturbed from their peaceful slumber.

“That Barbara.” Balthus shakes his head. “Can’t say I know anyone more capable of making grown men feel like little boys.”

“I like her,” you admit. “She doesn’t call me the Archbishop’s Lapdog.” Like most Abyssians.

“Just give everyone some time.” Balthus’ grin is part amusement, part pity as he gives your shoulder two hard claps to bid you good night. “They’ll see in no time you’re no church stuck-up.”

You aren’t so sure about that. You have been down here for a couple of days only, engaging in fights, defending the place against the mercenaries and bandits that wander into Abyss—on accident or on order still remains a question. It was obvious that fighting a few battles for them would not change their mind so quickly—a few good deeds did not undo the year-long abuse and persecution most of the Abyss dwellers had to suffer. You doubt you alone can heal those wounds, yet still there is a fierce fire burning inside you, a light blazing to banish all the shadows clinging to their pained hearts.

Not for the church’s sake, you’ve realised quickly, but for the Herald’s, for the first one loved Fódlan’s people; loves Fódlan’s people still. Every night you lie in your dark quarters, a single, tiny room with nothing but slatted frames and a thin blanket for a bed, nothing feels surer and more honest than this feeling Seiros’ Champion allows you to glimpse as if what it means to be the Herald is that simple.

And simple it is, for if you cannot remember your identity, your wishes and dreams and ambitions, you can take his on until you have figured it out for yourself; surround yourself with them just like you donned his ceremonial robes at the very beginning.

If Byleth questions your new-found vigour for battle, for tactics and schemes on the battlefield, she hasn’t voiced it yet. Or, maybe she is simply too occupied trying to understand the cards Fate has dealt her.

The Wilting Rose Inn clears out as the candles burn down until only a few loyal patrons remain in their respective, quiet corners. It becomes easier to talk to Byleth, since you cannot be sure who might be listening in, ready to forward information to Yuri and give him whatever reason to put your head on a stake. Not that he would actually do something like that. At least, you hope he would not do something like that.

You also realise how much you missed just being in her presence, and they become the only short moments during the day when you allow yourself to relax and droop your shoulders whenever exhaustion weighs you down.

Today, Byleth has made it her personal mission to teach you wood-carving. It goes as expected: you’ve cut yourself three times and have nothing to show for but a misshapen try at a cat that bears more resemblance to a stone you might find in one of Abyss’ gutters.

“I am,” you say as the sharp edge nicks your thumb once more, “a danger to myself and everyone around me.”

“Good thing I’m the only one here then.” Byleth gently takes the knife from you as if you are a toddler and only to be trusted with tools that are highly unlikely to chop your limbs off. Like a spoon. You’ll remind her of that next time she pushes a sword into your hands and demands you to participate in another sparring session. “I’m not as practised in magic and Tome wielding as Linhardt or Lysithea, but I am sure you still need all your fingers to conjure spells.”

“I could try it with my toes.” You wiggle your bloodied fingers at her like the boogie man. “Become the first Warlock that casts Dark magic with their feet.”

The smile that tugs at the corners of Byleth’s mouth is a greater victory than having chased off the bandits yesterday. It is followed by a frown though, one so light, the softest shift in her brows that you wouldn’t have noticed it were it not for the long hours during tea-time you spent studying the planes and features of her face like an artist might while studying their muse.

She leans back in her creaking chair and pockets her knife inside the hidden sheath strapped around her upper thigh. “We are making slow progress uncovering who is after Yuri and his friends,” Byleth says. “I know we’ve been through this already, but any guesses?”

“You’d think with how often we got rid of them by now, they would realise trying to drive the underground residents away is a waste of time. Whoever pays them must hold a serious grudge, why else would they spend so much money on sending mercs in here?”

A shadow passes Byleth’s eyes. “Unless these kids know more and are hiding the true reason someone would be after them.”

You understand her concern. You two have agreed to help, but your official duties and first responsibilities lie in taking care of the academy’s students and seeing that no harm comes to them. Which is no easy task as they so readily throw themselves into defending the Abyssians.

“I … I don’t think that is the case.”

Byleth simply lifts an eyebrow, urging you to go on.

“I can’t explain it very well. I just don’t think they have anything bad in mind. I don’t think there is a reason to doubt them.”

It doesn’t make sense, and yet you know Byleth is the last one to argue against a point like that. This quiet, strange connection that exists between you two is undeniable—just like the sun’s travel over the skies and that it lies to rest in the West and rises again in the East, day by day. Everything is connected, you just have to find out who is spinning the thread of your Fates together.

“I really thought they were trouble at first,” Byleth says and gestures to the barman to bring another round. “Especially Yuri. He is cunning and sharp, a dangerous combination for a leader.”

“I’d like to think he is hiding a warm, pleasant core beneath all that scheming and calculating,” you say, taking the drink the moment the bartender leaves it at your table. “Hiding it somewhere very, very deep.”

A corner of Byleth’s mouth twitches. She’s holding her own glass, lazily swirling the amber liquid in circles. “He is young, but I would not put it past him to hold ulterior motives. Promise me to be careful around him.”

“He and his lot helped me before they knew I was the Herald,” you concede, thinking back to Constance’s reaction after you woke up. “They simply saw someone in need of help, that’s all.” Since then, it has not occurred to you even once that they might be criminals hiding away under the church’s nose. You still think of Alfons and Briana’s small faces, their round button-noses and large eyes as they look up at Yuri in adoration. They deserve so much more than hiding away in some dark, rotting cellars.

You swallow your shot in one go, and instantly begin to cough and pound your chest as it goes down burning. Byleth knocks her glass back without any problem and swallows the burning liquid as if it were water. You still blink against the tears stinging in your eyes.

“You sound like you trust them already,” Byleth says and waves for another round. You try to share a mildly concerned look with the bartender, but he ignores you and slides two more shot glasses in front of your noses.

“Trust is maybe a little much,” you mumble, thinking of Yuri’s sharp smile, the way Hapi struggles and fails not to roll her eyes whenever you offer some insight with your Crest. “But I don’t think they’re bad. Or evil.”

Byleth nods, either because she has come to the same conclusion or because she puts trust in your decision not to doubt them. She downs another shot, looks at you expectantly. You scramble for another topic, anything that will save your throat from burning up a second time with this goddess-forsaken liquor.

Inevitably, your eyes fall on the sword strapped to her waist, only to call it a sword puts any blacksmith who has mastered the art of steel and iron to shame, and you have no desire to meet the one responsible for this craft, the one that bends bone and magic to their will. Byleth follows your gaze. Her hand rests on the hilt, hesitantly at first. You don’t think you have ever seen her hesitate before.

“The Sword of the Creator,” you mumble. “What does that even mean?” Has the Progenitor God truly wielded such a thing? What kind of goddess was she to come up with such a hideous weapon, to forge the Heroes’ Relics in such a portrayal and present them as gifts to humanity? It is like receiving an apple and only finding the core rotten and inhabited with worms after you have taken a bite. You wonder if this repulsive fascination is you or Seiros’ Champion, yet he remains silent.

Byleth stares into her glass as if the answers for all her questions lie hidden at the bottom and by drinking fast enough, she can unravel them. You are pretty sure that is how people become drunkards.

“Holding the sword … wielding it.” Byleth searches your gaze. “It felt raw. Unlike anything I have ever felt, and yet...” Her nimble fingers dance across the hilt once more, halt at the round socket where it seems that something spherical is missing. When she locks eyes with you, something tells you this is something she has not even told her students. Maybe she can’t tell them. Maybe, just like you feel with her, she feels that honesty comes easier when only you are around. You take a sip from your glass, welcoming for once the biting heat that forces you to shut your eyes and turn your head away.

Why can’t you tell her about the first Herald? Why do you want to keep his existence within you a secret? You listen for his voice, his opinion on the matter, but Seiros’ Champion is still silent, and you hope it doesn’t stay that way in matters of life or death. What is the use of an ancient dwelling inside your heart when he does not share in his unending knowledge and experience?

“And yet, it felt right,” Byleth finishes, cutting off your thoughts, and somehow you can easily imagine what she had felt—for the very same could be said about meeting the Herald. Right, natural. Like returning home. “I wonder … if there is any truth to the people’s claims that only a descendant of the King of Liberation would be able to use its power the way I did.”

You’ve read the historic texts on Nemesis, the King of Liberation. How the goddess gifted him the sword to use its power to save Fódlan from wicked gods over a thousand years ago. He liberated the people from their thralldom and thus was named King and Beloved of the people until the sword’s heavenly power, too terrifying and mighty for any mortal to bear, corrupted him and he turned to the darkness, waging war across the land and thus forcing Seiros to destroy him. It strengthens your belief that whatever benevolence the Goddess gifts her patrons, the price to pay in the end seems too high.

“I hope,” Byleth continues, “Professor Hanneman will have answers to that when we return. I still do not quite understand why Rhea has allowed me to keep it.”

“Is there any explanation as to why it was her sword inside the tomb and not the remains of Saint Seiros?” you ask. It would also beg the question where they are instead. But Byleth shakes her head.

“There wasn’t much time to go into details,” she says. Her fingers linger just a moment longer on the sword, before she withdraws them—a little reluctantly. “When you disappeared, we moved heaven and hell to find you. It was by mere luck Claude spotted one of the Abyssians disappear inside a passageway under the Abbey.”

“I hate how no one told us,” you say. “You would think a whole bunch of people living under the monastery is worth mentioning at some point after appointing us to our positions.”

“I’d like to think there was a reason for keeping silent about it,” Byleth says though even she doesn’t sound sure, and it strikes you as odd. Not Byleth doubting Rhea, but her not being sure about something. “A reason I can’t wait to hear once we’re back on the surface.” She reaches across the table, presenting her open palm to your hand holding your glass. You surrender and give it to her, watching a little too intently when her throat bobs as she swallows another round.

“Yuri expects another attack on the Abyss soon,” Byleth continues and rises to her feet. She stretches like a cat in the sun. “We should head to bed and rest up. I wouldn’t want a repeat of the last battle.”

“Oh, come on, it was not that bad.”

“You almost fell asleep from exhaustion when those two Grapplers advanced,” Byleth says, using her Professor voice on you.

You can’t help but grin. “And just like I predicted, you came and saved me.” Byleth’s mouth twitches into a flat line, but you can see that she is pleased. “Pulling an all-nighter to study the maps and outline of Abyss and the secrets it has to offer was a good idea. There are some interesting chambers holding traps and pitfalls. Whoever built this place really wanted to keep people away.”

“Makes you think what could be hiding deeper down in Abyss,” Byleth thinks aloud. “And maybe one of the next bandits will be kind enough to tell us.”

You nod. It was Claude’s idea to take someone captive and get answers from them, and hopefully shed some light on what it is exactly that their employer wants from Abyss.

Byleth escorts you to your chamber, your quiet voices bouncing off the damp walls in the dark corridor that stretch away into unprepossessing shadows. Unlike up in the monastery, the walls here are bare of tapestries and sometimes even of torches which makes traversing the tunnels difficult. You’ve let Linhardt show you simple fire spells to have a source of light on you.

“But it would be far easier if you learnt Light Magic,” he had commented as you two bent over scrolls and books, fighting a yawn. “Also much safer and highly unlikely to set yourself on fire.”

You had closed the tome he’d slid across the table to you, smiling stiffly. “Duly noted.”

The flame dancing across your palm now flickers but doesn’t waver, illuminating the corridor and painting Byleth’s face with a sheen of soft, amber light, giving her pale complexion a little colour. She is watching you conjuring the spell; how your fingers close around the flame as if it were a small beating heart, easily snuffed out whenever a breeze swipes through the corridors.

“I see your Magic Prowess is growing,” Byleth notes. “As is your ability to hold your own ground on the battlefield. You’ve grown used to fighting.”

That isn’t a compliment you had ever thought someone would tell you, but coming from Byleth, you know it is true. You have noticed it yourself—how with every battle it gets easier to see the enemy’s movements and abilities, their weapons and gear. Calling upon the power of the Herald’s Crest, usually a taxing and draining endeavour that left you resting up in your chambers, has become much easier since you have met Seiros’ Champion. Whenever he makes his presence known with quiet whispers of where to lead your students next, soft pushes as if he is placing his small child’s hand upon your shoulder to guide you to victory, his support is like wind in your sails, propelling you forward and lifting your courage.

“You are not as scared as you were in the beginning,” she continues. “You have never much wavered in your tactics, but you seem even more sure now.”

All that praise from her makes your ears scald with heat. Though praise it seems, you know that Byleth only speaks truth. “I have finally started to trust in my abilities. If people see me doubt, how can they follow where I lead them in battle?” you say, even though that is not entirely the truth, of course. Which is why you hastily add, “And I trust you. As long as you are by my side, we are invincible.”

“So it is,” Byleth says, turning her head so that her moss-green eyes dig into you like hooks. “And yet I wonder. This courage, is it just because you wish to defend Abyss? To prove yourself before Yuri and his companions. Or is there something else? Something that you want to share with me?”

You both pause in front of the door leading to your quarters, the silence smothering you like a heavy blanket of freshly fallen snow that puts everything into a deep slumber. No matter how much you dig through that snow though, you can’t find the resolve to tell her about Seiros’ Champion. Where would you even begin to explain?

It might seem that I have turned mad but believe me when I tell you the soul of the first Herald resides within me and sometimes, he whispers to me what I should do, and he likes to gossip from time to time as well. He seems fond of Edelgard in particular, and notices whenever she looks at you, but you choose not to see it.

You stare at her, not entirely sure what you are waiting for. Maybe that Byleth learns how to read your thoughts so you wouldn’t have to speak these outlandish things aloud. Instead, you say, “No. There is nothing.”

Byleth considers you for a moment. You make it a point not to shy away from her scrutinising gaze, as one would do with nothing to hide, you assume. In the end, she relents first, but not because she grants you an easy victory. You’re certain she knows when it is wise to return to a battle at a later time. “I see,” she says mildly. “Rest up, then. I will see you tomorrow.”

You watch her disappear down the hallway, the blade at her side peeking out from under her black robes like a sly wink; like a promise waiting for the right time to jump out of the shadows and strike you in the back. It occurs to you then, for the first time, that maybe the timely meeting with Seiros’ Champion and Byleth activating the power of the Sword of the Creator might be connected.

The Chalice of Beginnings. The way it all ties back to the Rite of Rising, the very same festivities used as a distraction to try and steal Seiros’ remains—unless the Western Church somehow knew what they would find inside the tomb would be something entirely different—and ultimately the reason you are all down here … calling it simply coincidence is like cooing at a fox shortly before it snaps with sharp fangs at you. It is hard to tell what play you are conducting on the stage unknown forces have set you upon. All you can hope for is that it doesn’t end up being a tragedy.

With the scrolls, papers and books Aelfric was kind enough to lend you spread over the make-shift workplace you’ve put together using crates, you’re spending the evening reading up on the Rite of Passing and the Four Apostles. Even though some of the texts are so badly damaged you can barely make out their content, it all matches with what Aelfric has already told you: the ritual is believed to have the power to resurrect a life that was lost using the chalice which only the Four Apostles had access to. After the ritual failed, they bound the chalice so that it would never fall into mortal hands. Capable of something that grand, it is no wonder whoever is after it throws ambush after ambush at the Abyssians in hopes to find crumbs leading to where this treasure of immeasurable worth might be.

But if that chalice really exists, where is it? To search for the Chasm of Bound below Abyss feels like trying to find a needle in a haystack. There is no telling how much time you have left before either Rhea demands everyone’s presence back or you are unable to protect the Abyssians any longer from the mob of greedy thugs.

“Knock knock,” a voice says from the entrance to your room.

You startle, too lost in thought to notice anyone approaching. Claude is leaning against the doorframe, having come up behind you as silent as a cat. He has changed out of his gear, wearing loose dark trousers tied at the waist, and a simple white shirt that stands in contrast against his tanned skin. The first buttons of his collar are open, showing the elegant curves of his collarbones. His dark hair is damp, curling against his temples and the nape of his neck.

“Did something happen?” you ask, moving in alarm to rise from your seat, though surely, he wouldn’t lean so leisurely and relaxed against the door if there was another attack. He confirms as much with a lazy wave of his hand, unhitching himself from the frame. “Nope, nothing to worry about. I just thought I’d drop by and say hi. Do you know how difficult it is to pin you down? You’ve gotten really busy since we’ve come down here.”

“You know, no rest for the wicked.” You try to restore order on your desk by organising the books and scrolls in one corner. You’ve completely lost track of time, and as it turns out, magical fire is incapable of burning candles to their wick, so there is really no telling how long you’ve been holed up in your room, studying the ancient texts. “Do you need something?”

“Just thought we’d have a nice, pleasant chat.” The smile flirting with Claude’s lips is dangerous for it tries to appear innocent, yet the way his green eyes glint with mischief, like the edge of a knife flashing as it is drawn from a hidden sheath, promises nothing good. “Been a while since we’ve had one of those.”

You can’t remember if you have ever had one with Claude. Maybe all those moons ago after you had awoken with your new power, which now feels like a lifetime ago. You lean back in your chair, allowing your eyes a break after all those hours of reading. Maybe this distraction might help.

“Okay, I’m all yours.” You stand up, waving at the chair to offer Claude a place to sit, and absolutely missing the way he shoots you an amused glance at your choice of words. Instead of taking up your offer though, he steps backward. Suspicion crawls up your back, feathery light like a spider making its way to new prey caught in its web.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Claude says and with a swift kick, shuts the door behind him. You stare at him, tongue-tied. Can students just do that with faculty members? Yuri’s voice creeps up from a dark corner in your memory: “You’d do well to keep in mind that the monastery rules don’t apply down here, Herald.”

“I just have a few questions, is all,” he continues, still smiling but anything pleasant in his voice has made room for an urgency that you can’t remember ever having heard coming from him. Claude crosses the room in quick strides, and leans his hips sideways against the table. His eyes flick over the remaining texts on your table, his head slightly cocking to one side to get a better angle to read them. When you clear your throat, he startles, and looks back up at you.

“Right, sorry.” He knows that you know that he, in fact, is not sorry. “The library here has some pretty interesting things, I gotta say. Books and scrolls you’d never find in the monastery’s library. There are some things that are hard to believe, though. There’s this funny book hidden inside a false cover that talks about a Distance Viewer and Flammable Black Water and a Metal-Hold Printing Machine. Imagine the technological advancement one of the nations would achieve if they could actually build and utilise devices like that.”

“Is that why you’re here?” you ask. “To talk about the Abyss’ book collection?”

“What? No. No, I—,” he begins, tapping his slender fingers impatiently against the wood. You don’t think you have ever seen this restlessness about him. Claude has always appeared as steady as his bow-hand, sure that wherever he aims the shot will land true. “I was just wondering if something happened after your fall down here. Something you can’t tell us.”

You feel as if ice water has been dumped down the back of your neck, shocking you to full alertness. Claude must see that he has caught you off guard; a look of hesitancy flashes across your face before you can speak. “And what would that something be, exactly?”

He lowers his voice. “I thought you might tell me.”

You stare at him, throat tight, the cold sweat sensation of anxiety spreading slowly through your limbs. “Nothing happened. Whatever gave you the idea that I’m hiding something from you guys?”

There is a moment of silence as you two trade a look that feels like a dare. There is something forbidding about the intensity of Claude’s gaze, the tension of his stillness. His fingers stop their rhythmic tap tap against the table, and now clutch onto its edge, his knuckles turning white. “I’ve always figured your reservation towards using your Crest came from the novelty of it. The foreignness of a power that isn’t yours. But in our recent battles, there’s nothing of that anymore.

“I thought maybe it’s because you met the Ashen Wolves and the people from Abyss, and you feel sympathy towards them and that’s giving you a little more oomph to try making use of the Crest. But that’s not it, is it? You’ve changed from despising the powers to fully embracing them. Wielding them as if you’ve never done anything else in your life.”

You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry. Your tongue darts out to lick your lips, and you don’t miss Claude’s eyes quickly jumping down to your mouth for a second. Or maybe it was just your imagination, the flickering shadow of the small candle’s light across his face. “Maybe I’ve just grown used to it,” you reply quietly.

“Herald, you grow used to balding or riding a new steed.” He looks at you sharply, his head tilted to the side. Something in his voice changes in that moment. “You don’t get used to something that changes your life from being a nobody to suddenly standing in the centre of the world. Not really.” His voice has a veneer of calm, but beneath you could hear the vibration of some very different emotion.

What changed for you, then? you want to ask. It doesn’t feel like the answer would be so simple as the appointment to the heir of the Leicester Alliance.

You shift, folding your arms in front of you for lack of a response. As much as you like to discount Claude’s tendency for plots and schemes, there is something disconcertingly earnest about him right now. The similarity is striking you all of a sudden, the shadow passing his eyes one you have already seen in Sylvain’s when he had tried talking about his Crest and its troubles.

“All I’m saying is,” Claude continues, and he takes a step towards you. Instinctively, you take one back. He takes another one. This goes on until it ends with your back against the wall. “All I’m saying is that maybe Teach finding her new shiny weapon triggered something in you,” he says now, propping himself up against the wall, his hand splayed beside your head. “Maybe a memory? Something like that?”

You hold his gaze, not shying away from his scrutinising eyes or the close proximity. So, you are not the only one thinking that the Sword of the Creator and the Crest of the Herald are connected in a way the other Crests are not. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that Claude, of all people, is the first to have noticed it. You had simply failed—or underestimated him, rather—to anticipate that he would also act on that theory and corner you like a mouse to get answers. Literally.

“Nothing like that happened, Claude,” you say now, feeling like you’re walking on a lightrope, and a single misplaced word could send you plunging. And then, he is there, his presence like the light brush of soft flower petals against the back of your mind. Do not tell him yet. Do not tell anyone yet, I ask of you. I do not wish the world to know I still exist. Silly Champion of Seiros. You’ve already understood his feelings perfectly without him having to tell you.

“Somehow, I was given this power. I tried fighting it for so long, but there’s no way I can run from this. I realised that, so now I’m just trying to make the best out of it.” It is only half the truth, but that is something Claude doesn’t need to know. It is also something he didn’t want to hearyou realise as you watch his expression turn into something close to disappointment.

“I’m sure Lady Rhea would enjoy hearing this,” Claude says, his voice deep and thin like a knife’s edge—and just as sharp.

“You’re not very subtle, Claude.” You try to move past him, but he doesn’t budge. “What’s your problem?”

“Problem? There is no problem.” The mask of bored indifference slips back on his face, turning his eyes distant, and cold even. An easy smile stretches over his features, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Maybe I just enjoy teasing you.”

“And maybe I’ll enjoy sticking a dagger in your side.”

Claude laughs. “That’s not very Heraldy of you.”

You try to see if that laugh means you’re good, but his eyes are closed doors. Your face must be a question mark, because he says, “Herald,” and touches your cheek gently, grazing your skin with the rough pads of his fingers. You inhale sharply, gaze snapping up to his. Claude’s eyes widen, realising what he’s doing only then, and his warm, calloused fingers freeze against your cheek.

Just as he opens his mouth, knocks come from your front door. He lifts an eyebrow at you, asking if you are expecting visitors at this time. You just shrug. You certainly didn’t expect him, and yet here he is.

Claude pushes himself off the wall, allowing you to cross the room and open the door a crack wide. Through the narrow opening you see Dimitri standing in the hallway. When he spies you glancing at him, he gives you a shy smile that quickly turns into a scowl when Claude comes up behind you. He presses his chest against your back and leans an arm against the door frame above your head. “Oh, Dimitri?” Claude drawls.

Dimitri pales as he sees, and certainly misunderstands the sudden intimate proximity Claude is displaying. He presses his mouth into a thin line. “Pardon the intrusion, Herald. I thought maybe this would be a good moment to review the last battle reports. But I see…,” and here his eyes dart over to Claude and sweep over him as if he were a particularly unpleasant surprise he found under his bed, “… you are preoccupied.”

“Please, don’t mind me at all,” Claude beams, his grin as wide as the Cheshire cat’s.

Dimitri’s scowl deepens more. His eyes turn into the blue of an icy-cold glacier dominating the coastline of Faerghus in the North. “I do, actually. I wish to speak with the Herald in private.”

“Then get in line for an appointment. Our Herald is very popular with folks, as you know.” And with that, he closes the door in Dimitri’s face.

You’re pretty sure Dimitri on the other side is wearing the same expression of dumbfounded surprise that is on your face. “What is going on with you, Claude?” you ask and turn to him, forgetting how close he is. When you almost bump into his chest, you take a hurried step to the side. “The way you are acting is unbecoming of someone with your station.”

Claude shrugs. “Don’t worry, Dimitri won’t take it to heart. It’s just that things have started to happen that don’t make sense, and I am all about making sense of the senseless.” He looks over at you, smiling. “Makes sense, doesn’t it?”

You’re spared the eye roll for an answer when distant bell ringing heralds another ambush on Abyss. Claude heaves a long, weary sigh. “No rest for the wicked, huh…” He turns to open the door, but except a little rattle, nothing happens, no matter how hard he shakes at the handle.

“Come on,” you say, unable to contain the urgency in your voice. “Open the door.”

“Well.” He turns around. “It appears that it is stuck.”

Your eyes go wide. “Then unstuck it.”

Claude throws himself against the door. It doesn’t budge. He curses. “My shoulder will never be the same. I expect you to nurse me back to health when this is over.”

“This is your fault,” you press out between gritted teeth. “Just break the door down, we can’t waste more time.”

“That’s what I’m—,” Claude throws himself once more against the hard wood, “—trying.”

There’s a loud crack and the door opens to the other side; not by swinging but by being lifted out of its hinges. Behind it, Dimitri is peeking around the frame, eyebrows raised to his hairline. “I thought you two might be in need of some assistance.”

“Yeah, I was … I was about to do the same,” Claude says.

You push him aside, hurrying down the corridor and waving them after you. “Lucky for us, Dimitri was faster.”

“No, really!” Claude calls after you. “I was just about to do the same!”

The fight lasted throughout the whole night. When you return to your chamber, drenched in grime and blood, you can’t even be bothered with your missing door and fall face first into your bed, remembering too late that it’s as hard as the ground.

After an hour or two of resting, you quickly clean yourself up and meet the others for a short breakfast of dry rye bread and mushy oats, letting them believe the red bump on your forehead is from the battle. There is a little spare time before the meeting to discuss your next course of action, so you head back to your room for some more shut-eye.

“Herald.”

A raspy whisper stops you, drawing your attention to a chamber you walked past on your way to the classroom many times. Not once has it been occupied since your arrival in Abyss. But now it is decorated with heavy velvet curtains and tapestries. Violet lights hang from lanterns on the ceiling, illuminating the heavy furniture and curtains in soft, misty light. You remember Constance mentioning something about a Wayseer’s room, usually empty, but now inhabited by an elderly woman sitting in an armchair too big for her behind a round, mahogany table. You can only see a pair of narrow, dark eyes staring up at you. Her nose and mouth are hidden behind a white veil.

“Please, do come in, Herald,” the woman croons and gestures to an empty, cushioned chair standing before the table. Her eyes twinkle with mischief. “There is so much we have to discuss.”

Something in your chest gives a sudden, sharp tug. Seiros’ Champion? No, this feels different. Somehow … It feels wrong. You shouldn’t be here. You hover within the doorframe, looking down the corridor left and right. It is like everyone except you two has left Abyss.

Curiosity taking you in its reins, you step into the room, your eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. “Who are you?” you ask, cautiously making your way across the room towards the chair.

The woman chuckles.

“They call me Wayseer, Herald. For I see the paths people have walked and how far they still have to march until they arrive at their destination.”

You pause, hand resting on the chair’s backrest. The wood feels impossibly cold against your skin. “You can see … the future?”

The woman chuckles again. It is the sound of dry leaves scattered by the cold autumn wind. “You mean do I have the same ability as you? Making Time bow to me? Oh no. Nothing of the like. I simply glimpse where I am allowed. No one else has what you wield.”

“Of course.” You sit, quickly swallowing your disappointment.

“Oh, but why frown like that, Herald.” The Wayseer places her hands to both sides of a translucent orb placed before her on a dark socket. You could have sworn it was not there a second ago. They were small hands with lithe fingers like spider legs. On each finger she wore heavy rings. “So many would kill for what you seem not to appreciate. Power. Glory. The chance to sit upon the throne of the world.”

“I would appreciate people not telling me how to feel about it,” you snap, irritation lashing out like a cornered beast. Taken aback, you lean away from her, your back pressed right against the cold chair. It feels as if you are pressing yourself against a solid block of ice. Where did this come from? This fury?

The Wayseer’s lip curls. If she’s taken offence at your irritation, she doesn’t show. She shifts in her seat like a child impatient to finally be allowed to play with a new toy.

“What can you tell me about my paths then?” you ask. There is little you hope for, really. If she tells you she sees you living in a nice house by the sea in twenty years or so, that is all you can ask for. A peaceful life. You would simply be happy hearing you will survive the next few years. And, if she can see where exactly you have come from, then maybe luck really is on your side this time and you can finally find some answers.

“Very well.” The Wayseer’s chuckle is drier than crisp autumn leaves. She holds out her wiry hand and says, “Close your eyes, Herald, and give me your hand.”

You aren’t too keen on skinship with a stranger, but just to humour both of you, you comply, and placing your hand into hers, palm up, you close your eyes. You feel her gnarly fingers dance over your wrist, brushing over your open palm as light as a spider’s touch. You fight a shudder.

The pain is so sudden and jarring like a lightning bolt. Before you can pull your hand back, the Wayseer grabs your wrist hard like a vice—surprisingly strong for someone this old. Her head darts forward and she sucks your bleeding finger into her greedy mouth as if it were water and she is dying of thirst.

“What are you doing?” you demand, fighting to free your hand. Finally, the Wayseer releases your finger with a wet pop from her lips, and for a second you believe to see razor sharp teeth before the veil obscures her mouth again.

The Wayseer smacks her lips and scratches her nails against the smooth surface of her orb. Maybe this is all a joke. If Claude and Hilda jump out from under the table any second and laugh about the silly face you’re making, you wouldn’t even be angry. But no one emerges, and you stay alone with this mad woman. She’s moving her hands in strange motions over the orb, and in response colourful clouds swirl inside the ball. First red, then blue, and golden until, like a storm rolling in, all of a sudden it becomes black.

The Wayseer recoils.

She tries to suck in air as if she is drowning, her eyes bulging like a dead fish’s. She spits on the ground and a shudder wrecks through her, one that has her falling from her armchair onto the ground, her body convulsing. She begins to cough, a horrible, rattling sound, as if there is something stuck deep inside her that she can’t get out. Clawing at her throat, digging her nails deep enough into the skin to tear, she kicks and wails as if set in invisible flames. As if something is burning her up from the inside. Like poison.

You jump to your feet, rounding the table to help her but she screeches and scrambles away from you, eyes ripped wide open. “Who … no, what are you?” she croaks.

“I … I don’t know.” Your voice is so quiet you don’t know if she can even hear you. “I hoped you could tell me.”

The Wayseer turns to the side and spits some more. It is so dark that it almost looks black, whatever that is—blood or maybe something far gruesome?

Did I do that? you think, horrified as you watch her climb to her feet, still shaking and shuddering. You are about to apologise, reaching forward to steady her by her elbow, but the Wayseer shakes your effort away impatiently as if you are nothing but an annoying fly.

“Oh, my dear, you seem forsaken to me,” she says, and you can’t hold back your surprise how easily she bears no mind or grudge to whatever has happened. Whatever you might have caused. “Just like—” She stops. Her eyes are fixed on her orb that is now swirling in undistinguishable shapes. She leans over it, her gaze pining you like a dead animal on a corkboard. “It seems to me that the answers you seek lie in the Shadow Library, Herald,” the Wayseer says now, her voice suddenly smooth like clear water. Or the satin concealing a sharp knife. But what makes your stomach churn is the way she purred “Herald.” Almost mockingly, and you realise the spiking fear in your stomach doesn’t belong to you. It belongs to the first Herald.

“Why can’t you tell me?” you ask.

“Because it is not my place to tell you.” The Wayseer casts down her eyes now. Her whole behaviour doesn’t make sense. Making light of the Herald’s name first, now acting obedient. You listen inside for the voice of Seiros’ Champion and find one emotion burning like a beacon in the dark. Get out. She is the enemy.

You jump to your feet, almost knocking the table over. “I have to go.”

“Of course.” The Wayseer bows her head slightly, and from the way her eyes become slits, you can see she is smiling underneath the veil. “But don’t forget, the Shadow Library holds answers. Do not let anyone stop you from chasing the truth.”

You give an awkward nod, not trusting your voice.

When you quickly leave the room and throw a last glance back, you think you see the unfamiliar face of a man staring back at you from inside the Wayseer’s orbs, his eyes eerily white.

The Shadow Library is a dark, damp room tucked away at the end of a narrow hall that is seldom frequented by the Abyssians. When you take a look inside, relief fills you that only Linhardt is currently occupying a seat close to a wall, an uneven stack of books his only companion.

The Wayseer didn’t say specifically where to look, but you would start with records on the first Herald and see what you could turn up about him.

But first, you have to deal with Linhardt who’s napping away in his seat, cheek squished against the edge of an open book.

“Linhardt.” You shake him. “Linhardt!”

He jerks up. “I’m awake,” he lies, blinking sleepily against the dim candle’s light. He looks up at you, squints and seems to recognise who caught him. “Oh, it’s just you, Herald. Come to a late study session as well? Or early morning? It’s certainly hard to tell down here with no sun.”

“How long have you been awake?”

Linhardt thinks about that for a moment, his eyes losing focus, then refocusing again. “Forty-two hours, maybe?”

“Bed. Now.”

He leans back, considering the idea. “We can’t say for how long we’ll have access to this hidden knowledge. Did you know it was only with the founding of the Adrestian Empire that we have the calendar as we know it today. They used to call our moons ‘months,’ if you can believe something this extraordinary! You can’t find data like that up in the monastery’s library.”

“Linhardt,” you repeat. “Go to bed. Or do you want me to get Byleth?”

Linhardt doesn’t need to consider this. He raises to his feet, sways a little from exhaustion, and tugs his uniform in order. “Good night, Herald.”

He turns and moves to the exit, but you call him back. “Linhardt!”

He stops. You point at the table. His mouth twitches into an unpleasant line, the only sight of his disapproval, but he returns, drops the books and scrolls he’s hidden in the folds of his robes, and leaves for good.

Quiet settles, and you give it a minute or two to calm your beating heart. “I know you don’t like this,” you say out loud, hoping Seiros’ Champion might finally stop being so anxious inside you. “I don’t trust that Wayseer either, but if I find answers here, I’ll take anything I can get.” He doesn’t know what it is like not knowing anything. Are you even a real person if you don’t have a past; if you don’t have anything or anyone remembering you? “I have a right to know who I am.”

Unfathomable sadness spills at those words—his mixing with yours and you can’t say who started it. But he quickly recedes, leaving you alone. Somehow you feel even worse now. Lonely. You wonder where he left to where you can’t follow him.

You make your way along the walls of books, allowing your fingers to gently journey over the spines. There are so many stories in here that so few people get to read. This library’s collection appears larger than the monastery’s as well, solely for the fact that they don’t have enough space for all the knowledge cramped into every nook and cranny. Wherever there is even some small additional space, someone has made it their calling to fill that blank spot with a book—even when it doesn’t fit.

Without any idea to start, you continue down the aisle and pick whatever sounds interesting. Letters from heirs to noble houses, an antiquated note on what meat to use for a special dish prepared for the new emperor at ceremonies, a novel set in the Adrestian Empire with a date of removal and Seteth’s signature. So this is where the books end up that Seteth doesn’t allow up in the monastery.

You’d hoped to find more about the Herald down here maybe, but there are no records, no memoirs, not even discourse. Why did no one care to keep your records alive? you wonder, but wherever the boy has retreated to, he can’t hear you, or perhaps, chooses not to hear you.

Nothing sticks out as something truly worthy of Seteth’s scorn at first glance. That is until you find the burnt remnants of a report stating some details on a handful of noble houses, another scroll that talks about a False God and the children of men fleeing to the depths of the earth. One paper strikes you as particularly important, but the page is so old and worn that most of the text is illegible. The Truth of Heroes’ Relics. You wonder what it might be, what truth lies within the relics and their Crests that the writer of this paper finished with the words “I daresay the Goddess would not wish for me to learn more than I already have.”

You finally hit a breakthrough when a stack of papers falls to your feet, bundled together with a crumbling piece of wool. When you begin to read, you realise these are the fragments of a forgotten memoir of someone who had fought in the War of Heroes. With clammy hands, you begin to read.

__/15 - Ailell Forest It has been several moons since King Nemesis was defeated, and the tides of war have turned from bad to worse. I have received news that my friend Daphnel has fallen as well. Those zealots are after our heads, and those of our leaders. All that is left for us is to disappear into the muddy waters Seiros has created. My long life may soon come to an end …

__/2 - Itha Plains I somehow escaped with my life, but I fear the end is near. They tell stories of the Shadowlord’s execution and with him gone, what point is there for us, those who have survived? Those who remain and carry a broken legacy. People are worried, for their Herald has locked himself in his rooms, unwilling to speak to his followers or Saint Seiros. They do not understand how he could be so distraught over the Shadowlord’s death. They do not know the truth. Once more, Seiros has chosen to keep secrets, to play with her charges’ obedience and fear. But I know. The world will know the truth at some point and then Seiros will reap the rotten harvest of what she has sown. I misspoke and was driven away to the Fhirid River. They hunt us like animals. I considered leaving Crusher behind, hiding my trails. Maybe it is too late for that. I wish I could see my wife and son again … just one last time.

You read the content of the worn pages once more, trying to make a sense of it. Daphnel was one of the Ten Heroes, as was the author of this letter—if you remember correctly, the Heroes’ Relic Crusher was wielded by Dominic. It must be from after the corruption if King Nemesis was defeated, but from the way those words are framed, the author doesn’t strike you as someone mad for more power or revenge. It is strange but you feel pity for this person.

There is another name that stands out, of course, one that you have not heard in all your moons since joining the church.

The Shadowlord.

The name is like a brush of icy cold fingers against your mind, as gently as a snake grazing your ankle before it springs forward and sinks its venomous fangs deep into your flesh. A shiver passes your body, only it is settled so deep within your bones that you know this is not your fear rekindled.

But as you focus on chasing after Seiros’ Champion before he can disappear back into the murky depths of your mind, a cough comes from the library’s entrance. Your gaze snaps up to see Yuri standing in the doorway. The look of annoyance on his face is something that deserves its own painting to commemorate it.

“I hope you plan on putting that back exactly where you found it,” he says, strolling over as if he doesn’t have any care in the world but the tense set of his shoulders betrays him. “Wouldn’t want any of that to find its way into the hands of someone from the surface.”

“Don’t you get bored?” you ask, folding the papers back together and pushing them back between two books.

Yuri stops, quickly eyeing what you’ve put away to undoubtedly have a look himself once you leave. “Bored of what?”

“Pretending I’m still the villain and here to sell out your people?”

To your surprise, a look of unabashed amusement lights up his face for a moment. It settles back to a somewhat neutral expression, but the glee still remains in the soft dip of the dimple on his left cheek.

“Better safe than sorry,” Yuri replies, shrugging casually. His nimble fingers dance across book spines. “Though yes, even I must admit that your deeds for the people of Abyss are not what I have expected.” His fingers pause. Yuri leans forward, lilac eyes gleaming. His face is predatory, but his voice is gentle. “You are not what I have expected.”

His words feel like the warm flick of a candle’s light. You didn’t realise until now how much you cared for Yuri’s approval. To think he’s warming up to you slowly might still be an exaggeration, but maybe he’ll grant you the generosity of a looser tongue now that he doesn’t see you as the enemy.

Your eyes skim back to where you’ve returned the letters, fingers itching to take them with you until you know every word by heart. “I’ve … I’ve read about this person. Shadowlord. Any idea who that was?”

Yuri raises a slim eyebrow. “The Shadowlord?” He looks a little puzzled, his eyes roaming over the books. “It’s just a story. A boogie man living in the shadows that steals you away if you don’t finish eating all your vegetables. Grandparents used to tell their grandchildren that story so they wouldn’t be naughty.”

“So just the bad guy in a fairy tale?”

“Is what I’ve heard.” He gives a single shrug. “Who knows. All fairy tales have a spark of truth to them though. Maybe he truly existed.”

You’re sure that is what people thought about the Herald as well until the story became reality. You just hope this particular story remains one.

“Also, I would appreciate it if you don’t go around the monastery telling everyone what you’re reading down here,” Yuri says, waving towards the library’s entrance to signal your late-night reading has come to an end.

You hesitate only a moment before you follow him down the corridor, leaving the books and tomes behind. “Okay, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Great.” He winks at you. “Saves me the trouble of sneaking into your room and slitting your throat.”

“Charming as always.”

Maybe one day you’ll be capable of holding a pleasant conversation with him without any death threats. Though it already feels as if a little of Yuri’s animosity has disappeared in favour of giving you a chance to prove yourself.

He drops you off at the door to your quarters, already flaunting down the corridor to whatever nightly escapade fancies his tastes without so much as a wave at you over his shoulder.

“That Wayseer,” you say before he can disappear into the shadows. “What’s her deal?”

Yuri stops. He turns slowly, his eyes flitting from the dark corners of the flickering lights on the walls to you. There’s a question in his eyes you don’t know the answer to. “What Wayseer?” he asks, and you can feel your blood run cold. “I know everyone going in and out of Abyss, and I haven’t heard about someone like that hanging around.”

“But that room next to the scrap chamber…”

“Hasn’t been occupied in years.” When Yuri answers this time, he turns around and looks at you a little sceptical but also impatient as if he doesn’t have time for whatever pipe dreams you’ve come up with. “I guess someone played a joke on you. Don’t let it get to you.”

You nod, but your mind still lingers in that room, with that person. It would be easy to brush it off as a joke. But this sense of wrongness spikes again, a kernel of goddess-awful flavour that the more you think about it has you gagging. You had felt an awareness. No. More than awareness, more sentient than that. It was recognition.

A/N: someone over at ao3 made fanart of the first herald and i'm absolutely in love!! check it out here!

if you're interested to join the taglist, please let me know! i want to resume uploads every month, so the next chapter should be up on September 15th. thanks for reading and take care!

#phill.tdwc #fe3h x reader #fe3h dimitri x reader #fe3h claude x reader #fe3h edelgard x reader #dimitri x reader #claude x reader #edelgard x reader #fe3h house leaders x reader #fe3h x oc #fe3h x gn!reader

40 notes · View notes

cyanide-rifle · 2 years

Text

where them uhhhh male!reader x dimitri at

#fe3h dimitri x reader

7 notes · View notes

hana-no-seiiki · 7 months

Text

//tw yandere, mention of blood, implied murder/violence, borrowing mr. devil’s creep! reader rq

YANDERE! CHILDHOOD FRIEND : *gives you a knife/dagger as a gift when you two were children*

CREEP! READER: This is such a weird gift

ALSO CREEP! READER: *maybe a decade or so later* *not only keeps the damn thing but is currently licking the fresh blood of their victim off of the gift*

meanwhile…

YANDERE! CHILDHOOD FRIEND : *is just plain horny from watching the whole ordeal* Holy fuck.

#again this is so childecore #but also dimitri from fe3h core #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere imagine #yandere x you #yandere fic #yandere oc x reader #yandere core #yandere multifandom #yandere childhood friend #yandere quotes

1K notes · View notes

frickingnerd · 6 months

Text

dimitri's s/o being experimented on by those who slither in the dark

pairing: dimitri alexandre blaiddyd x gn!reader

tags: hurt/comfort, fluff, established relationship

you didn't tell dimitri about you being kidnapped and experimented on as a child by those who slither in the dark, until about five years into the war

still, dimitri had always noticed some similarities between edelgard, lysithea and yourself and the way the three of you seemed to be oddly close…

when you finally opened up to dimitri about those who slither in the dark and their experiments on you, it was worse than anything he could've imagined

dimitri began to understand that you weren't their only victim and that they are responsible for most of the conflict in fodlan

dimitri wants to take them down. he needs to take them down! for your sake and for fodlan!

and he's willing to do whatever it takes to achieve that goal! even ally with claude and edelgard, if those are willing to help him…

dimitri makes it his goal to kill every last one of those who slither in the dark, with his focus being solely on them

it takes him a while to realize that instead of annihilating them, he'd help you more if he'd just be there for you, supporting and comforting you

dimitri struggles a bit with helping you emotionally, well aware that he's more skilled with his lance than his words

still, he's doing all of this for you. and if you need him to be by your side and comfort you after a nightmare or a panic attack, then he'll be there!

149 notes · View notes

an-ambivalent · 11 months

Text

Yandere! FE3H House Leaders Headcanons

Warnings: As this is yandere fiction, this deals with behaviours that can be uncomfortable and triggering to read. Read at your own risk. This work is purely fictional, I do not condone this behaviour irl. By clicking the ‘read more/keep reading’ you are consenting to read this at your discretion.

Characters: Edelgard, Claude & Dimitri

Edelgard

Type: clingy & delusional

~Edelgard finds herself lured by your strength and grit. You may or may not be physically strong, but it is your mental fortitude that arises her initial interest in you. During the academy days, she observed how despite the obstacles in your way, and the adversities of your past, you never broke down. You faced whatever came your way head on, or in the instance challenges deterred you momentarily, you always bounced back. She admired this because it was a reflection of who she was as well, and no matter what battle or war, this essence of intrapersonal strength was the most critical part to determine the last ones standing.

~She wants you to be part of the Black Eagles - she needs people with your vitality by her side when she plans to start the war as the Adrestine Emperor. Edelgard is driven, if nothing else - ruthlessly ambitious to achieve what she wants. So, there’s no stopping until you are part of the Black Eagles.

~Once you are part of the Black Eagles, Edelgard inevitably can spend more time with you; by doing so, she sees how hard you work and your unique brilliance that makes you excel in your area of expertise. However, it is your dedication that really makes her fall for you. Subsequently, she begins to imagine your future together. She envisions a new Fodland, unified under the Adesterine Empire. A new era where crests and the church are meaningless, and you’re there to rule right by her side. The rewritten history records would speak of the Flame Emperor and her lover who changed the world with their storm, and their shared ambitions and power that reshaped the sovereignty of Fodland. Eventually, she becomes so consumed by these delusions of your future together, she starts to believe that you are already together. There is no courting, or even asking. It’s just the reality and it’s really frustrating for her when you continue to attempt to dissuade from it. So, she has no other option except to be by your side and cling to you until you realise this.

Claude

Type: manipulative & overprotective

~You were an enigma, and Claude wanted to figure you out. You always wore a genuine bright smile on your face, and kept a cheerful energy. Even during times when everyone else would be visibly upset, you never were. You always maintained your cheerfulness, almost as if you didn’t allow yourself to feel your other emotions. And so out of curiousity, Claude started to watch you discreetly. He noticed that he was right in his assumptions; you never let your true emotions show. In times when something displeased, annoyed, or upset you, it would be only for a mere moment where your mask would slip and your true expression would show. Otherwise, that smile would continue to remain.

~Truthfully speaking, Claude rather preferred the moments where you were just you, instead of wearing that smile he was beginning to detest. He wanted to dig deeper and see more of you to understand why you hid yourself and didn’t trust your housemates enough to show yourself. What could you possibly be hiding?

~Claude was cunning and great at maintaining his own facade if nothing else. Perhaps, that’s why he felt drawn to you in the first place. Since you piqued his interest, he couldn’t just let you go without undoing you. He decided that he was going to break you down to nothing to unveil your secrets if that’s what it took.

~Slowly and surely, Claude started to single you out. From observing you so much, he had a grasp on what he had to say and what buttons to push to set you off. It started off slowly - a brief pointing out of an insecurity, until it kept growing. Seeing that you weren’t close to breaking no matter how much he tried, Claude nearly gave up. But just before he did, you gave in.

~You couldn’t tolerate his bullying any longer; it reminded you too much of the trauma you experienced at home, and to escape from all of that, was exactly why you came to the Officers Academy in the first place.

~As you break down, and start to Claude why he was being so mean to you and beg him to stop, disclosing hints of your trauma in the process, he achieved his goal. He came to understand that you hid yourself because that’s what you had been shamed for, and that’s who you had been traumatised to hide. It was abhorrent because you were so lovely - the real you, the delicate you. You deserved much more than you had ever been given, and he was going to give that to you.

~He embraced you, gently rubbed your back to soothe you, and started to mumble apologies. Then, once you settled, the scelara of your eyes red from the crying, and tears hanging onto your eyelashes, he thought you were so pretty. He cupped your face, and turned it so you were looking up directly in his eyes.

“You don’t have to hide yourself anymore. I promise I won’t let anyone else hurt you. I’ll kill them if they even try.”

Dimitri Type: clingy, stalker, & possessive

~If love-at-first-sight trope met puppy love trope, that’s how your story starts with Dimitri. Definitely, there is physical attraction from the moment he saw you. But more than that, there was also a strange and immersive pull he felt towards you that would make him believe you two were destined soulmates if he was the type of person to blindly believe in such nuances. So, while there was something that felt akin to love at first sight, Dimitri never acted on it, or had plans to act on it. It was something he was aware of, acknowledged, and planned to never think about again. Well, not until you joined the Blue Lions, and then, he had no choice but to be in close proximity to you.

~You have many good qualities and traits that Dimitri admired. But the one that he valued the most, was your kindness. You were always ready to lend a hand to anyone that needed it. You were always there to support and listen to your housemates whenever they required it. But who was there for you when you needed it? Realistically, your housemates were reliable and all of your support and help was reciprocated when you needed it as well. That’s what you loved about the Blue Lions, and had joined their house in the first place. But for Dimitri, whenever you were present, you were the only thing he ended up focusing on. Everything else was as easy to tune out as white noise. So for him, no was ever there for you. He needed to be there for you. And that’s how his puppy love started.

~He starts to leave little presents for you - your favourite snacks, flowers, tea, etc. At first, it was flattering, the way most people would feel when they notice they have a secret admirer. You looked forward to finding the things you liked and reading the sweet notes filled with small and delightful compliments that accompanied them. However, it became frightening when the presents were left in your private spaces like your bedroom. With everything that started to happen with the Flame Emperor and the other assaults at the church recently, you didn’t wait around until something more serious happened to address the problem. Immediately, you asked to speak with your house leader privately, and brought up your concerns.

It was great how proactive you were. You noticed something suspicious and immediately took action to address it; this showed your capability too. But, it was such a shame that you went to the preparator himself.

Dimitri was hurt that you found his expressions of love for you suspicious and suspected him of being a ‘stalker’. But, he was a realist; he understood that love took time and love took hard work. If he was the type to act on mere biological lust, then he would have courted you from the moment he met you. Nonetheless, he was perfectly content with working hard as well and helping you realise that you belonged together.

“It’s hurtful that you became suspicious of my presents. I just wanted to show you how much I love you,” he started, stepping closer and closer to you, until he had his arms wrapped around you.

“W-What?”

“But it’s okay. I understand that you have not realised your feelings for me yet. I’m more than happy to help you with that.” He whispered softly, before clumsily locking his lips with yours.

#yandere x reader #dimitri x reader #yandere dimitri #edelgard x reader #yandere fire emblem #claude x reader #yandere fe3h #fe3h x reader #yandere claude #ambivalent writes #yandere edelgard #fire emblem x reader #yandere headcanons

279 notes · View notes

randoimago · 2 years

Note

Okay so I rediscovered the only-one-bed trope and honestly am screaming over it rn but also don’t know what characters to ask for this so do you think you could please do your top three Fire Emblem Three Houses characters in that sort of situation? Thank you!!

Only One Bed Trope

Fandom: Fire Emblem: Three Houses

Characters: Ashe, Bernadetta, Dimitri, Ferdinand von Aegir

Type of Request: Headcanons

Notes: Oh the only-one-bed trope, I love it. As for my top three Fire Emblem characters... I think I'm going to do four characters, one being Ferdinand for reasons (Rest In Peace Billy Kametz)

Ashe

At first he's confused when he sees that the room you're supposed to be staying in has one bed. He had thought he had asked for two?

Ashe offers to go back and ask for a new room, but you mention that it could be a hassle and Ashe reluctantly agrees. He doesn't want to potentially take a room from someone else that needs it and also doesn't want to overwork the inn staff...

Offers to sleep on the floor so you can take the bed. He's flustered at the idea of sharing a bed, but also he has slept on stone before when he was just a thief in the streets. He can sleep on an inn floor.

You state that you can just share the bed and he's still a bit flustered. Triple checks that it's alright with you because he doesn't want you feeling obligated. There's some happiness in his chest that you trust him enough to share the bed, but he promises that he'll try to stay on his side of the bed during the night!!

You two end up cuddling and when you wake up, you're both flustered but neither want to let go since it's so warm. Ashe ends up just giving a sheepish smile and apologizing and stating that you should get ready to join the others. Through out the day, there are many times you glance at the other, wondering if this was the spark of something new. Neither of you could deny the fluttering in your hearts.

Bernadetta

She's panicking when there's only one bed. Bernie thinks someone tricked her and did this to make her flustered and embarrassed. When she realizes she's speaking her thoughts out loud she gets more flustered and embarrassed because you heard what she said.

Bernie quickly tells you to ignore her and to look away. She's shy and doesn't want you judging her. Of course, she hasn't said any actual feelings towards you, just that sharing the bed is embarrassing. But still, please don't hate her!

States that she can sleep on the floor. Her dad has made her do it before as a punishment for not being able to hold books on the top of her head long enough. She can sleep on the floor again.

Of course you don't let her do that. You suggest sharing the bed and Bernie gasps, immediately asking if you plan on killing her. You aren't and you would never and Bernie trusts you. She does, she just can't help but have her mind wander in that direction. Would apologize and hope you aren't mad at her.

Her panicking causes her to stay awake most of the night. She can't help it. You're sleeping in a bed next to her and even if you're facing opposite directions, you're still so close! And she doesn't have a stuffed animal with her to cuddle with! Eventually she does end up falling asleep and cuddles with you, she'll panic in the morning. But for now she's having very pleasant dreams.

Dimitri

He is silent when he sees that there's one bed. His brain is moving too fast, trying to process it and wonder what caused the mistake. A nervous laugh leaves his lips and he offers to go see about getting another room.

Except there are no other available rooms and you're both stuck in this one bed room. Dimitri's throat is dry and he knows his face is a beet red. But he takes a deep breath, tries clearing his throat, and suggests that you sleep in the bed and he'll sleep on the floor or take a chair to sleep in.

You disagree with his suggestion. The future King can't sleep on a dirty floor (it's not actually dirty, the inn would never) or a chair and hurt his back. You offer to take the floor instead and Dimitri frowns.

It becomes a standstill between you two. Neither wanting the other to have back and neck pains in the morning but also nervous about sharing the bed. Dimitri is the one to take a deep breath and state that you can move some extra pillows or maybe get another blanket to put in the middle of the bed so you both stay on your own sides.

Sleep happens eventually but Dimitri's nightmares wake the both of you. He apologizes and tells you to go to sleep while he reads a book or something to keep from returning to said nightmare. Instead you, hesitantly, remove the barrier between you two and cuddle up, telling him that now that you're touching then you can protect him in his sleep. Thank goodness for the dark otherwise you'd definitely see his flustered state. He can't deny the good night's sleep after that.

Ferdinand

Lets out a loud, nervous laugh when he sees only the one bed. He has read his fair share of romance novels that he can't help thinking of what comes next in the cliché. Instead he clears his throat and states that you may have the bed while he takes the floor. A true noble would never let someone else suffer, after all!

You agree to taking the bed, but are also hesitant because where would he sleep? Ferdinand states he can get another inn room, it shouldn't be any trouble to do so. Except it is because none are available.

He's hesitant to go back to your room because of the bed situation and also doesn't quite know what to do. He tries to find Edelgard to explain the situation and see if the future Empress has a suggestion, to which she calls him an idiot and tells him to just go to your room and come up with a solution.

While a bit offended, he does what she says and goes back. You're a tad confused but understanding and so you offer to share the bed. Ferdinand gasps because you two aren't even married, you can't share a bed! But if he does have neck pains then it'll make training the next day all the more difficult so he sucks it up and promises he'll stay on his side.

A promise that ends up broken as he can't control his body in his sleep. You end up waking up due to him quickly jumping away from where you had been cuddled up together. He is apologizing and you are half awake, not knowing what happened before he sputters about going to get some tea for the two of you and quickly running away. You two can talk later but for now, he needs to hide his flustered face from you.

#fire emblem x reader #fe3h x reader #fe3h dimitri x reader #dimitri x reader #bernadetta x reader #fe bernadetta x reader #ashe ubert x reader #ashe x reader #fe ashe x reader #ferdinand x reader #fe ferdinand x reader #ferdinand von aegir x reader

658 notes · View notes

return-of-a-space-cowboy · 3 months

Text

Eagle under the lion's paw pt 4

The next morning you nearly screamed in pain as you tried to get up. The pain of your injury flaring up again. You stumbled towards your desk where the painkillers were and took them. You then grabbed the water jug and poured yourself water. You drank your water before hearing a knock on the door.

“Who is it?” You asked.

“It's me” you heard Dimitri's voice. Oh no, you couldn't come out in this state. You'd never hear the end of his apology if he saw you in this much pain.

“Hold on a bit, I'm not decent right now,” you told him as you hobbled over to your drawers pulled out some clothes, and hastily tried to put them on without making any pained noises.

Once you were done you made your way to the door and opened it to see Dimitri standing in front of the door with flowers in hand, red carnations with white stripes.

“I'm so sorry for what happened yesterday, I don't know what overcame me,” he told you as he handed you the flowers.

“Dimitri, it's OK… I know it was an accident” you told him.

“I know but I still hurt you and I can't forgive myself for what I did,” he told you as he held his head in his hand.

“I forgive you, stop beating yourself up over it. I know it was an accident ” You told him as you pulled his hand away from his face. You hissed in pain as you did so.

He was grief-struck. He knew that if he'd used any more force, he could have seriously injured or even killed you.

“I promise I'll make it up to you,” he said. There was clearly no way of talking him out of it like this. What more could you tell him?

You walked back into your room to put the carnations in an empty vase and fill it with water.

“did you want to walk into town with me?” You asked him. Of course, you knew that was his plan after his insistence to replace your lance. Perhaps you could get his mind off of what happened yesterday.

He'd taken you immediately to the armory and asked you to pick out a new lance. Instantly a brave lance caught your eye. You'd heard Ferdinand sing constant praise of how great the brave lance was. Strong yet light, great for manoeuvrability but it came at a steep price.

As much as you wanted it you didn't want to burden Dimitri with such a hefty cost.

“Could I please get the steel lance?” You asked Dimitri.

“Of course” he replied with a smile before talking to the shopkeeper. You saw him talk and then hand them a satchel of gold before they took the Brave lance.

“Dimitri I asked for the steel lance” you stuttered as you got closer to him.

“I know you're trying to be considerate but I know this is what you want. After all, I have to make up for yesterday,” he told you before handing the lance to you.

“But it costs so much” you retorted.

“Have you forgotten that I am also royalty? It is not a great deal to me” he responded with amusement.

The rest of the day you two walked around the monastery. You arrived back at your dorm in the afternoon. You sat at your desk to finish a mock test Manuela had given you in preparation for your test to become a paladin.

“Hey (Y/n), you doing ok?” You could hear Dorathea's voice from the other side of the door. You got up from your desk and opened the door to see her with a teapot and cups in hand.

“Hi Dorathea, Manuela gave me some medicine to deal with the pain so I'm alright,” you told her.

“You don't mind if we have some tea, I just thought I'd offer you some,” she said.

“Of course not, come in,” you said before grabbing out the the second chair.

“Who gave you those?” She asked as she pointed to your vase with carnations.

“Oh Dimitri came over this morning to apologize for what happened at the battle of the eagle and lion” you explained.

“Weird flower to apologize with,” she remarked and she placed everything on the coffee table and sat down.

“How so?” You asked as you looked back at the flower.

“Every flower has a different meaning. Typically carnations are associated with motherly love but red carnations with stripes are for longing” she told you.

“You've told him? Right?” She asked.

“No I haven't” you replied.

“Then tell him, you need to draw a line otherwise things could get messy,” she said.

“But what if he doesn't feel that way, then it sounds weird” you replied.

“(Y/n) Trust me, it's better you set your boundaries. That was the mistake I made when I started off at the opera company. Men got too close, I didn't know how to set boundaries and It led to some incidents” she explained.

“Ugh, maybe I'm overthinking everything… it's just I don't want anything happening to you. Dimitri seems far too polite to ever cross a line. Besides flower language isn't as popular nowadays, I only know about it because I was surrounded by people far older than me” she rambled.

“Just try to keep safe and if anyone gives you trouble let me know”

🦅🦅🦅

“Beating those bandits was a piece of cake, wish we got sent on missions like what the blue lions get” you heard Casper talk about yesterday's mission to some of the other classmates. You hadn't attended due to a medical exemption.

“The mission they had was at Remire village. I heard some of the knights say that it got out of hand” Ferdinand spoke. You packed up your books and left to get ready to go to the training ground.

When you did arrive at the training ground you couldn't see Dimitri, even after waiting for quite a substantial amount of time he didn't show up. You left the training ground and looked around the monastery before seeing one of his classmates, Mercedes.

“Good afternoon Mercedes, do you know where Dimitri might be?” You asked her.

“Oh hello. I haven't seen him today. The professor did say that he was feeling unwell so he's probably resting in his dorm” she explained with a warm smile on her face.

“Thank you, I just wondering why he hadn't shown up to training” you thanked her before leaving. You didn't see him that night either.

The next day you hadn't seen him again so you decided to buy him a pastry from the Bakery and head to his dorm. You knocked on his door.

“It's (Y/n), I just wanted to check in since I heard you weren't doing too well. I also brought you something to eat” you explained. Soon the door opened and revealed Dimitri. He looked disheveled, his hair hadn't been combed and he was only dressed in his undergarments. A small but shaky smile took shape on his face.

“(Y/n)... I'm so glad to see you” his voice was but a whisper.

“Dimitri, you look awful. You should be back in bed” you told him.

“I am well aware of that… May I ask you to keep me company?” He asked you.

“Of course” you replied as you followed behind him and closed the door. He pulled out the desk chair for you before sitting on the side of his bed.

You handed him the bag with the pastry in it and he muttered a thank you before you set down.

“Have you seen Manuela about this?” you asked. He shook his head from side to side.

“No, it is no ailment… in truth, it's something I've had to deal with for many years, with recent events I feel it's only getting worse,” he told you.

“Then what is it? You look like you're at death's door” you asked.

“You'll listen to me… won't you?” He asked as he reached out for your hand.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere fe3h #yandere fire emblem #yandere fire emblem three houses #dimitri blaiddyd x reader #fe3h dimitri x reader

26 notes · View notes

aces-sweetheart · 1 year

Note

How about some headcanons where Sylvain Felix and Dimitri are feeling shy around a female reader?

aaaaa three of my fav boys💖 the hcs are a bit short so i did some drabbles with them. thank you for your patience, i hope you like them! i did a gn!reader since there was nothing in the scenarios that would specify them as a fem!reader.

cw: gn!reader, sfw

sylvain

i can't really imagine sylvain getting shy around anyone lol

but he will get flustered around you if he truly likes you (and isn’t just physically attracted to you)

if you compliment him he'll be a bit thrown off but will quickly recover and compliment you back/flirt back with you

rather than getting shy, he gets nervous and tries to hide it shows this by being overly enthusiastic

((think his s-support scene with byleth where he says he’ll go blind if he doesn’t want him to look at other girls))

sometimes it can be too much but you know he means well

“I love your hair.” Sylvain paused at your words, leaving you to walk forward without him. You turned around in confusion to see him standing still for a moment before catching up with you. He tried to play off his reaction but you could tell he was flustered.

“I love your hair and your eyes and your outfit and your-” You cut him off with a laugh that caused him to smile sheepishly.

“Ok I get it!”

felix

it’s hard to tell when he’s shy around you since he can be very stand offish to begin with

he won’t make an effort to speak to you if he can avoid it

if he sees you, he may go as far as to turn the other way or hide at the training grounds or in his room

he’ll ignore you but you catch him very obviously staring at you a lot before he “casually” turns around like nothing happened

For once, Felix wasn’t focusing on his training. He should have been practicing the new move he learned from Byleth before the next battle but how could he when you were mere feet from him, practicing magic? Despite the fact that you two had only had a handful of conversations, he was smitten and seeing your body move and your eyes narrow in concentration as you cast spells certainly didn’t help. His brown eyes burned holes into your back. Knowing he was watching you so intensely made you so nervous your spell completely missed the target. You instinctively turned around to see if he saw the embarrassing moment but as soon as your eyes met his, he was suddenly very interested in his sword.

dimitri

dima is painfully shy around you

he really can’t hide it if he wanted too lmao

he'll be a bit awkward around you but it’s endearing

as much as he wants to talk to you and get to know you, he becomes too timid to try

so he ends up talking about mundane topics like the weather

save yourself the pain and lead the conversation/take charge please

Dimitri silently pleaded with the rest of the war council to stay in the room so he wouldn’t have to be alone with you. It wasn’t that he didn’t like you; it was actually the complete opposite. He liked you so much that he seemed to forget how to act and every potentially interesting conversation topic exited his mind until he was only left with subjects like the weather or what the dining hall was serving. Sylvain was the last to leave the room, throwing the blonde a wink and knowing smile over his shoulder as he walked out. Finally it was just the two of you alone in the meeting room. You shot him a grin and he returned it with a strained tight lipped smile.

“I hear they’re serving onion gratin soup today.” He fought the urge to cringe at his own awkwardness. It was an extremely lame attempt at small talk but judging your interested expression, you didn’t mind. You answered him by lacing your fingers with his and you leading him out the door. Pink dusted his cheeks and his eyes were wide at the sudden contact and forwardness, especially when you finally spoke.

“Why don’t we go eat together?”

#i really like how these came out ngl #fe3h x reader #3h x reader #felix hugo fraldarius x reader #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd x reader #sylvain jose gautier x reader #sylvain x reader #felix x reader #dimitri x reader #fire emblem x reader #as.fluff #as.fe3h #as.hcs #asks #anonymous #requests

410 notes · View notes

byproducts-of-my-imagination · 4 months

Text

Yandere Dimitri Thoughts

War definitely does funny things people, but Dimitri was already a little fucked in the head to begin with. He'd hold onto you as the only thing to keep him sane, the burning need for revenge replaced by an insatiable need for you. Armed with enablement from the lions and active encouragement from Sylvain, it becomes easier and easier for Dimitri to write off Felix's harsh looks of disgust. But he knows better than to interfere with the crown prince of Faergus's only tether to reality. You are sequestered away, as Dimitri insists that you let him keep you safe. Unable to leave the monastery, it's unbearable to sit and count the days while your classmates are at war.

"I've lost so much. I can't lose you too." The light in his eyes have been long gone, replaced with mania and obsession.

You're reduced to the most important lynchpin in Fodlan.

#yandere #yandere dimitri #x reader #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #dimitri x reader #yandere fe3h #fe3h #fe3h dimitri

65 notes · View notes

fiction-box · 11 months

Text

Dimitri x F!Reader: Kidnapped Together

This one turned out longer, but I think I was able to communicate everything from the previous ask a bit better (go check it out if you like this one!). The stakes are a bit higher, I had some fun playing around in my head, and this is what came out for you. Enjoy!

Requests are open. The story will continue under the cut.

Dimitri:

“...-tay away from her…”

Voices faded in and out of your head. Of your ears? You weren’t sure if what you were hearing was even real.

“...-ust trying to get her….-et us throu-”

“You have done enough! Stay back!”

That got you up. Your eyes fluttered open, glancing around the room while you shifted into a seated position. The walls were made of brick, but you couldn’t see the door from the three people crowding into the small room. Prince Dimitri stood between you and the strangers.

You moved to stand, but were held down by the chains keeping your wrists close to the floor.

At the rattling you made, Dimitri turned his head ever so slightly to check on you, “Stay down. You mustn't strain yourself.”

“...what?”

“She won’t need to if you just let us tend to-”

“You caused this,” he growled. “I am not so delusional as to allow you to make it worse.”

“Can I please know what’s going on?” you worried, realizing all this directly concerned you.

“Just…stay close to the ground,” he softened his voice a bit to address you. “They hit you on the back of the head while we were hunting in the woods, then used you as leverage to get the upper hand on me.”

A woman in armor gripping a lance approached, trying to take advantage of the apparent distraction. Catching on quickly, Dimitri squared up to her. The lancer’s brows lowered as she backed down again.

“If she bleeds out, know it will only be because you allowed her to.”

You gasped, bringing a hand toward the back of your head before the chains restricted you from doing so, “W-Wait, I’m bleeding out?”

“No, it will be because you chose to attack us. Look at yourselves; you can’t even control your prisoners.”

“We never meant-”

Your classmate cut her off, “But you did. And the only way you could make it right is to either heal her or let us go.”

“You’re not letting us heal her,” the fortress knight closest to the door barked.

“I wonder what option that leaves for you.”

Dimitri was holding himself with all the power and authority of a royal despite the circumstances. It would normally have you in awe, but you were struggling to focus on anything except the possibility that you were a sitting duck in critical condition.

The good news was that he was clearly getting under their skin. Your captors seemed to value both of your lives for some reason; not just the prince’s.

Unfortunately, yours was the life being gambled, and you were on a strict time limit. Dimitri could only call their bluff for so long before they’d have to make a decision. While the daughter of a noble was a decent bargaining chip, you weren’t quite sure how far your captors would be willing to go to keep you upright.

Maybe they’d wait for you to pass out, forcing Dimitri into a final decision.

Perhaps your fate would be decided only after you fell unconscious.

But for now, you said nothing. If you let these…rogues…in on how much you wanted help, they would certainly use your words against Dimitri. Then what would you have to keep yourself safe? No doubt they’d separate you.

“Step. Aside.”

“Then what? You two can’t escape while she’s chained to the floor.”

“That never stopped me.”

Indeed, the cuffs of a different set of chains were still bound to Dimitri’s wrists. He must have broken his own at some point before you woke up.

The fortress knight stepped forward this time, holding out his lance as the witch next to him primed her magic. Fire, from the looks of it.

“Pathetic. Do you really think you can stop me?”

You had never seen this side of Dimitri before. He was acting a bit more…well, scary wasn’t the proper word. Authoritarian wasn’t either. In all honesty, you weren’t quite sure how you felt about it.

Not that it mattered. At the end of the day, he was getting you out of here.

Suddenly the world spun. You were caught by surprise, but you couldn’t steady your head with your hands. The most you could make of the skirmish in front of you was bright colors and blurred lines. You wanted to throw up, yet you felt like there was nothing to get rid of. Plus, it would only worsen your headache.

On instinct, you tried to balance yourself; to stop yourself from falling over. Since you weren’t actually off-centered, the endeavor didn’t go so well, and you struggled to regain control of your body before you could hit the floor.

When you set your hand on the ground beside you to steady yourself, blood dripped onto it.

Was this a good time to ask for help?

…more help?

Looking up as your sight came back to you, you realized you had no idea where you were. There were bodies on the ground, drops of blood spattered around them. They matched the beads trickling down your hand.

Prince Dimitri was at your side, tearing through the chains at your wrists.

“Where are we?” you asked him, glancing back at the people motionless on the floor. “D-Did I do this?”

“What? No, you’ve been stuck here on the fl-” his voice quieted, “By the Goddess, no…”

His hand moved to your face, angling it toward him until you had nowhere else to look but into his eyes. After a moment, the action had made you somewhat dizzy.

You recoiled a bit, “Wh- You’re acting strange…”

He turned his head away, sighing lightly as he broke your other shackle off. Arms now free, you moved to stand before he stopped you.

“Your eyes…we need to get you out of here.”

“Okay, so let’s go.”

“No,” he again prevented you from getting up. “No large movements…I need to find a way to get you out of here safely.”

Glancing around the room once again, you couldn’t identify any living threats to your survival, “There must be something I’m not getting. Where are we? It doesn’t look like we’re in any direct danger; nothing is stopping us from leaving.”

He rose to his feet, watching to make sure you stayed down, “I don’t know where we are…some ruffian camp by the monastery- but I know the way back. They kept me conscious during the walk.”

“...that’s an odd way of phrasing it…”

“Yes, well. I won’t be doing much more of that. The important thing is getting you out of here as efficiently as possible. That means without you…moving…y……d…t…m…ch.”

You ducked your head as you felt it throb, staring at the floor and trying even just to breathe. In and out. You were in trouble, you knew that much, but you just couldn’t…

…if…if you could just…focus…

Vaguely, you registered hands at your arms. They shifted; one to your waist, one to your back, an arm to your head, and you suddenly couldn’t feel the ground anymore.

“...I…”

“Please, try not to move. I’m going to get you out of here.”

…out…of here…?

“Put your head down. I will keep you safe.”

That voice…it sounded so familiar…

They sounded so calm and comforting, so easy to trust, you found it hard to think of disobeying. How easy it was to rest, to ignore everything and rest your head.

But the feeling of dread wouldn’t go away.

“...I feel…bad…”

“I know,” he said. The voice was male, “Just hang on a bit longer. Does that sound manageable?”

It wasn’t. It sounded easy enough, but the darkness that engulfed you afterward said otherwise.

~~~~

“Dimitri!”

His head shot up from the side of your medical bed as he startled awake.

“What? Is something the matter?”

But once his eyes adjusted, it didn’t look like there was much on your mind except confusion; as though you had called out to him from some dream you had, or perhaps you had been reliving past events. You were just staring at the bookshelf across from you, dumbfounded.

“How…? But I thought-”

“Easy,” he lightly set his hand atop yours. “We’re safe now. This is Manuela’s study.”

“Oh…” you commented. “I only remember a few things, I think. I was hit on the head…there was blood and a prison of sorts…and then nothing.”

“We were attacked by some band of scum after we left to hunt for the monastery,” Dimitri frowned. “They tried to hold you over my head and capture us both…and I’ll admit they got away with it for longer than I’m proud of.”

You looked worried, though he assured you everything turned out fine. The two of you had returned to safety, after all, and you looked relieved to hear it.

“I managed to bring you back without running into trouble, but…”

He felt his face begin to warm, his eyes finding a spot on the far wall; anything to keep himself from making eye contact with you.

“...you said a few things on the way.”

“What…what do you mean?”

“You kept fading in and out- surely, some of it was coming out of your head. I…I don’t want it to-”

“Your Highness, what did I say?”

“Ah, erm…” the hand he was resting on yours flew to the back of his neck. His face was burning now, but he’d only be more embarrassed if he tried to hide it, “Please, don’t call me that right now…”

At least you seemed to be back in good health. Manuela had gathered quite the posse to care for you, but he had pulled rank and refused to leave until you were awake. This was his fault, at least partially, and he would see it through.

His position as the Kingdom’s heir certainly had its uses.

“...you’re scaring me. Please, just tell me what I said,” you looked down at the thin white sheet covering your legs, your body rigid and still, “I hope it wasn’t a mean thing.”

“N-No,” he rushed to assure you. Goddess, why was this so difficult to say when you were the one that said it in the first place?

He felt your eyes trying to connect with his own, “Then…what?”

“You…said you loved me.”

One of your hands flew to cover your face as it tinted scarlet, prompting his own face to turn a similar hue, he was sure.

“And I know! I knew you had suffered head trauma- I wouldn’t have even given a second thought to it…but you began saying all these other things. You called me kind and courageous, chivalrous and determined…”

With each of his words, you seemed to grow more and more…well, whatever it was your eyes were expressing through your fingers, it was making him grow nervous.

“I…If it is okay with you, that is…I would like to know if you truly thought those things about myself…?”

Please say yes. Please say yes. If only you were to say yes, maybe I-

“Of course,” you muttered, letting your hand lower as your gaze directed toward it, “How could I not? Especially after the tendrils of what little I could remember coming back to me, I…”

He said nothing, hoping you would find it in you to continue your praise of him. Perhaps it was a little underhanded, but he found he liked hearing you speak of him in such a way.

“You’re brave- you protected me when I couldn’t defend myself. I remember you were patient with me when…when my condition worsened-“

You cut yourself off after accidentally meeting his eyes, as though you had just begun to realize what it was you were saying.

Should he say something too? To make it less awkward?

“I find you attractive too.”

Wait.

“What?”

What?!

“N-No, that’s not what I meant. I, well, I do find you attractive, but I was trying to refer to your actions and your personality. Not that I…don’t find you physically attractive as well, but-“

“Just…say whatever it is you need and leave? I think I’ve had enough of everything, today.”

His heart clenched a little, at that. That wasn’t what he had meant to say at all, and now it sounded like you didn’t even want to look at him.

Why was it that he had to ruin this when it was so close to going right?

“That came out wrong,” the leader of the Blue Lions sighed, “It’s because of your determination and strength that I have come to understand the only limitations of life are the ones I place upon myself. You are loyal, honest, and true to yourself; even if that means going against those around you.”

There. That was closer to what he truly felt. He wasn’t sure he could manage to say much more without messing everything up again, so he opted to just close his mouth and wait.

You looked brighter though; almost like Dimitri hadn’t just ruined whatever your relationship was not but two minutes ago. That was what truly mattered, he supposed. You had gone through hell today, and the least he could do was try to make the end of your day better.

“I…perhaps you had better get more rest. I will retrieve Professor Manuela for you,” he stood, turning back to you one last time, “Get well soon, and don’t hesitate to ask if you need anything.”

You responded with a simple wave.

Dimitri shut the door behind him, taking a few steps down the hall before leaning against the wall. He covered his face with one hand. His heart was racing too fast. The prince took a deep breath only to let it out a moment later.

Honestly, today had made him feel sick with the amount of emotions swirling around in his chest. There was so much fear- both of you would have been ransomed or worse if your captors had been a little smarter, and you had nearly…

The blond shook his head. He knew fear, and that was definitely part of what he felt, but for some reason it had created an amalgamation with his…well…attraction to you. The words you had exchanged mere moments ago certainly didn’t help, and he had held you so close on the way back to the monastery that it was a miracle he was still functioning.

Shifting off the wall, he rushed out of the hallway and down the stairs to find Professor Manuela. You needed help first, even if he didn’t want to wait to talk to you again.

He’d see you when you were better, and though maybe you’d forget your conversation, at least now he knew something about how you felt.

Perhaps there existed some hope for him after all.

#fire emblem #fe3h #fire emblem three houses #fe x reader #fiction #fe3h x reader #fire emblem x reader #x reader #fe dimitri #dimitri x reader #fe3h dimitri #dimitri fe3h #dimitri fire emblem #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #fe16 #f!reader #fem!reader

260 notes · View notes

sothisblessmysoul · 11 months

Note

Can I ask for a bouquet of flowers for the blue lions? That sounds so adorable. 🥰

(I never knew if you wanted all of them or selected few so I did all of them)

༓ʚ A Flower's Meaning ɞ༓

Summary: The Blue Lions react to you catching a bouquet at a friend’s wedding

༓Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd He watched you catch it without blinking or flinching, mainly just confused as the realization slowly took over your face as you finally met Dimitri’s gaze. There was something about how the flowers looked in your hands and the look that you gave him that made Dimitri feel so flustered. So pretty, is his single thought as Dimitri’s made his way to you, feet on autopilot.

༓Dedue Molinaro Dedue’s eyes were completely on you, holding the colorful flowers that all mean a term of love in language as everyone else is looking between you and him. He doesn’t flare up in a blush or appear startled but you can see Dedue is feeling embarrassedly flustered by the awkward stiffness of his movement as the tall man makes his way to you.

༓Felix Hugo Fraldarius Felix does not want to be here with unimportant people, if anything he wants to be comfortably at home with you. But he will admit that the other wedding is pretty. Felix wonders if you’ve ever thought about marriage, but any further thought of the subject changes when you catch the flowers that nearly smacked you in the face. The image of what you would look like holding yours flashed quickly in his thoughts as for once Felix quietly watched you.

༓Ashe Ubert A blush marked his freckled face with a happy smile but a shy expression at the teasing that Ashe knows his friends and siblings will give him as you walked over to him. Subconsciously Ashe reached out his hand for you to take, gently pulling you closer to his side as Ashe studied the flowers. The bouquet was pretty but it wasn’t your favorite, he thought to himself. The following thought is how beautiful you would look, holding your favorite flowers while neither Ashe nor you let go of each other’s hands because it felt like two missing puzzle pieces found a place to fit perfectly together.

༓Sylvain Jose Gautier Immediately starts to sweat nervously as the flowers are perfectly in your hand while his hand subconsciously touches his pocket where the ring is that he’s planning to ask your hand for later. He had been carrying it, not having a day or place in mind until right now. This is a sign, he thinks as you lock eyes with him and smile which he returns.

༓Mercedes von Martritz She was standing right beside you when you had caught the flowers, she leaned over to sniffle the flowers with a smile growing on her face as she looked up at you, pulling away from you but not before kissing your cheek. She giggled quietly at your reaction to the flowers and the kisses. She is going to tease you but this will bring up the thought of marriage and the future with her.

༓Annette Fantine Dominic Instantly a crimson blush blooms on her face as endless giggles of excited bundles of nerves, reaching how to touch one of the flowers’ petals. Annette went quiet, wondering what flowers she would pick for her wedding, she subconsciously looked at you. She isn’t going to say anything immediately today or tomorrow but there will be hints of marriage, hoping that you’ll catch on and talk about it with her.

༓Ingrid Brandl Galatea She never really thought deeply about marriage, it was just something that her father wanted for her. But when Ingrid saw your reaction to catching the bouquet to look for her and finally smiling when you found Ingrid, she wondered for a fleeting thought if you would smile like that at the altar. She can’t explain why it made her face blush although Ingrid didn’t hate that idea at all because without question she knows that Ingrid would say yes if you asked her.

#fe3h imagine #fe3h reader #dimitri x reader #fe3h hc #ashe x reader #felix x reader #sylvain x reader #Ingrid x reader #annette x reader #mercedes x reader #dedue x reader #blue lions imagines #fire emblem three houses imagines #fe3h headcanon

208 notes · View notes

throwaway-yandere · 1 year

Text

Saudade (Yandere!Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Reader)

A/n: it has been 500 years since I turned off my brain and wrote something out of pure passion lmao dimitri my beloved <333

Unreliable Synopsis: Circumstances won't allow you to be around the crown prince of Faerghus' side, and it wasn't as if you want to be near him either after allying with House Gloucester. Besides, if there was one person you want from your past back, who else would it be other than your old womanizer best friend? (Cw: yandere themes, violence, war)

commissioned by: @poptartsthings (holy sht thank you for making my first commission to be dimitri fic aaAAHHHHH--)

“You should just send them your letter– say that you’re sorry.”

"Uhuh, but what if he doesn't remember me anymore, Raph?"

"Well," Raphael placed both his hands behind his head, lolling back as he reeled a fish in. "There’s just no way. Based on your stories, I think he’s in love with you, (Y/n). You can't just ignore him forever, ya know?"

You raised an eyebrow, "yes, I can. It's not like there are tons of situations where I need to interact with the crown prince."

"Okay, true... But maaaaaybe you can try eating lunch with him!" Raphael brushed against your shoulder "There's nothing that can get people to open up like a good meal together. Maybe you can steal a seat– oh, and sneak in his favorites on his plate too."

You chuckled softly, "I think that method only works on you, Raph."

"Nonsense!" He said, shaking his head earnestly. "It also works on my baby sister!"

You snorted.

Your housemates are endearing. Truthfully, you never would have expected that it's comfortable in the Golden Deer. Your heart desired to become a Blue Lions graduate like your parents, but familial circumstances or lack-there-of forbade any opportunity. Had life been easier on you, your dorm wall would've sported your family’s blue flag.

And not Gloucester’s.

Since your parents perished in what is now known as the “Tragedy of Duscur”, Count Gloucester assumed responsibility of being your legal guardian. Your parents had always thought of Lorenz’s father as a close ally. Plus, this arrangement was better than living up the frigid north with estranged minor noble relatives who gave you an even more colder shoulder.

However, thread any less carefully around the Alliance, and you might find yourself under his conservatorship forever. You just have to thank the Blue Sea Star that you didn’t bore a crest lest you’d be engaged to Lorenz. Uncle Erwin is a wonderful father to him and he doesn’t treat you with malice either— but of course, he keeps an eye open to morally gray opportunities to exploit your title.

And that includes listing your name amongst the Golden Deers.

At first, you were hesitant in showing that you're an “outlier” in class, but it seems you fit the mold quite easily. Too easily. Not because you had been accustomed to their social norms, it is more like the fawns are oddballs themselves. The youngest was an enchantment waiting to explode, your largest was a total muscle-head, the house leader has a screw loose when it comes to strategic retreat and poisoning, and the rest are just as eccentric.

No one cares if you told them you have an affinity for theater here, and spoilers: they really did not give a damn. Except for maybe when Ignatz genuinely went "oh, that sounds wonderful, (Y/n)!" before the conversation digressed about Leonie's mismatched socks she bought on the market.

Oh, but Raphael and Claude did care when they found out that you might've had a long but faded friendship with at least four of the Blue Lions. Compared to Claude, you trust that Raphael comes from a good place whenever he brings them up. Since he and Ignatz were childhood friends who slowly grew apart, he has your best intentions whenever he suggests something that could reignite your relationship with either Sylvain, Felix, Ingrid, or Prince Dimitri.

Claude, on the other hand…

The house leader first emerged as a shadow, then he sat down and squeezed between you and Raphael, with his arm encircled around your waist. Claude's apparent lack of etiquette went unmentioned by either of you (you suspect Claude is part-Almyran), but you do intend to ignore him later like your "foster brother" does.

"Trading secrets about Prince Dimitri, are we? Won't ya invite poor me along in your little secret meeting?”

You sighed tiredly, "Claude–"

"I was just kidding. No need to give me that face," Claude raised his arms defensively. “My lips are sealed— I never heard a single word between you two, promise.”

The deers were a little leery of your prior association with the crown prince of Faerghus. Claude, who frequently pries into everyone's private affairs, persistently diverted your focus to the Lions. In fact, he once burned your favorite book to forcibly draw your attention to the library so that you'll share the same room with Dimitri. Talk about extremes, really.

But you did notice that there's something off about Claude this time.

“So what brings you here? There’s no way you’ve come here to fish.”

“Yeah, no…” He cringed. “I’d rather do the eating part.”

“Haha, you get it, Claude!” Raphael said before the two men shared a crisp high-five.

Ah, these fawns…

You sighed, “can we skip to the part where you explain why you’re sitting beside me right now?”

“Sure. Leonie wanted me to tell you that Lysithea told her that Lorenz was told by Prof—”

“Do you not know the meaning of “skip”, Riegan?”

“Nah, course I do,” Claude smirked. “It’s just fun to tease people who live in House Gloucester.”

“Sothis, have mercy.”

“As I was saying, Lorenz was told by Professor Byleth to tell you that Sylvain is now part of the Golden Deer.”

“…”

“… What?”

There was no dramatic gasp. Nothing sensational or derogatory comment was elicited from impetuous lips. You simply blinked and said the words "what? as if it were a simple joke. Claude needn’t explain that those were facts. Based on how he approached with worry written on his face that he failed to hide from you, he wasn't jesting.

You're reluctant to speak with Sylvain. You last spoke to him in earnest four years ago. Don't get it twisted, you do want to get back in touch with that philanderer's good graces, but where would you even start?

Dear Sylvain, I’m sorry for ignoring your letters? Dear Sylvain, I’ll reimburse you for all the theater tickets you gifted before without my consent? Dear Sylvain, I’m a garbage best friend?

… Knowing him, he’d likely frame that letter with careful preservation while the ink from his heaps of love letters faded inside his shelf collection. If you were to send similar letters to the other two, Felix would train to become a mortal savant and burn the letter out of spite, and Ingrid would have simply torn them up.

“WOAH!!!”

Raphael's chest caught your attention for a brief moment, and you quickly avoided him, concerned that those wooden buttons will suddenly protrude into your eyes. Your housemate captured the fish without even feeling his buttons tear apart from his outfit.

Goddess Messenger.

That’s quite an expensive catch right there.

But it felt like an omen for something.

“… I’m heading back to my dorm room.”

“Want us to go with you?” Raphael offered, but he reeked of fish.

“No, I’ll head there alone.”

Claude tilted his head, “Sylvain is probably there, you know.”

“I know,” you nodded. “But I’m tired.”

“I just can’t run away from the lions anymore.”

You should’ve taken your words literally.

Instead, the phrase "I need to get over this, fast" resonated in your thoughts, and you bolted as soon as the impulse to settle everything fueled your anxiety. You should have cared if someone got in your way, but you didn't.

“Ngh—” you flinched, bumping into someone’s back. “Whoops— sorry about that—”

You froze as you looked up.

Great. Just your luck.

“… What is there to be forgiven, (Y/n)?”

And of course, he called you by your first name. Your arguments against Raphael were demonstrably false. A futile hoax. Why even try to imagine that he might have forgotten about you?

Dimitri smiled softly, his eyes crinkling in delight. You gulped shakily.

After all, how can the crown prince ever forget his first love?

Now that you took a good look, his hair was much shorter than how it used to be and he grew positively taller. It’s a haircut you took a while to get used to, especially since you recalled how his hair used to hover near his shoulder. Not that you didn’t know about any of this information already. It’s just that you had to reassess those facts after seeing him up close. Perhaps a bit too close for comfort.

If only your last memories with him were as pleasant as his face.

He wanted you as his consort, but you had nothing to offer him. No land, no worthy title befitting for a king’s spouse, and no true inheritance in your arsenal at age 15. But when one has less to lose, they become more introspective. While clinging to Sothis' statue and pleading for life, they gain wisdom. Unlike the prince, you were not naive to what could befall the kingdom if you were to marry him. Instead, you sought asylum by knocking on Uncle Erwin’s door with the few loyal servants to House (L/n) left, and he accepted your offer after days of consideration.

His name will be tarnished as a young traumatized prince who copes by spoiling a love unrequited. But most of all? The loss of his friends and family would’ve developed his separation anxiety towards you more if you stayed.

The prince was something of a doormat teenager. He begged and nearly cried when you had accidentally slipped out that you’ll be allying with House Gloucester– but stopped his outburst the moment you chewed him out with hurtful phrases. Dimitri clung onto you like an affectionate pup and if his childhood self could latch on for the rest of his life, he would in a heartbeat. Perhaps it was the side-effect of being his first friend. He had always been a genuinely kind person, but he was always so caught up in whatever happened in the past.

Was it rational or heartless to leave him and the rest of your companions behind? Likely both, if you were to ask El.

That doesn't mean you don't occasionally catch a glimpse of him at the officer's academy. It's hilarious how, after Dedue performed his duties as a vassal, Dimitri now had to cope with a situation that was identical to yours. A "protector" so dependent… it was as though you were watching the prince try on your shoes. Your “you don’t have to shield me every time we go to the training grounds” line became His Highness’ catchphrase towards his retainer. And you’re not sure what to feel about that.

Was it comedy or plain karma? Likely both, if you were to ask Claude.

“Good evening, Your Highness,” you bowed. There would’ve been more eyes on you inside the cafeteria if you hadn’t. Gossips of lese-majeste would’ve stirred even Lindhart awake. “Do you require something from me?”

Formal.

Too formal for him, but not formal enough for you.

Dimitri's brows wrinkled, and you briefly saw his lip tremble. His hands were behind his back, and one of them was discreetly and firmly gripping his wrist. That man had a pained, speechless expression on his face, and you don't hold him responsible when words fall short.

But when words do fail, you wished he could just stop talking whenever he feels overwhelmed.

“I…”

I miss you. So much.

You didn’t need to hear it to know what he wanted to say.

Princess Edelgard was right, Dimitri is wholly predictable.

He cleared his throat, ears turning red.

“It had been so long since we had last spoken, has it not?”

“It has.”

“Around 4 years, so I'd say.”

“Hmm. So it has,” you doubt he noticed how your words were curt and redundant, since he's too busy trying not to melt. “So it has.”

“Are you enjoying the Golden Deer house, s-so far?” Dimitri manufactured a smile. “I’ve heard you and Lorenz made for a wonderful tag team at the last House Tournament.”

Bullshit.

He didn’t just “hear” about it.

You saw him cheer for you giddily in that tournament.

There is nothing he can conceal from you. If he were as cunning as Claude, it might take you some time to discover who was responsible for leaving sloppy, "anonymous" love letters inside your dorm. There were also petals tucked inside. Pink camellias, a sign of longing.

“It’s a feat not worthy of your praise, your Highness.”

Seriously, you don’t want to hear him flatter you anymore.

“Simply untrue,” he shook his head earnestly. “I’ve also heard that—… Y… You are fond of Raphael. As a friend— of course. It’s relieving to know that you have many companions from different walks of life— which is to say, I approve of whoever you talk to, but—”

You’re not deaf. You noticed how much his words were about your relations with others. There’s no other interpretation to this other than jealousy.

Still, his face was red. He must be too caught up in the joy of talking to you that he didn’t care for how envious his words sounded. You laughed curtly. You want to remind him the reason why you left, but you can’t explain a thing despite desperately wanting to, just like him.

Dimitri wants you back, so much so that he's stuttering in every sentence.

But you didn’t reply to his ramblings. Save for the cafeteria hall’s chatter, it was silent. You’ve long accepted in your heart that your family is dead and you ought to coast forward.

And there’s no future where you will cut through a path beside Dimitri.

Besides, House (L/n) had histories of trading tactics with Leicester, and you cannot discount how people refer to your blood as sheeple with its loyalty. It’s a double-edged sword, one you’d utilize well if you close your eyes right now and ignored the heartbreak and yearning in his eyes.

And so, you closed your eyes.

“My apologies, I’m in a hurry so I’m afraid I have to get going. Farewell, Your Highness.”

Dimitri's eyes widened, trying to reach for your arm.

“(Y/n), please wait–”

But you were already gone.

“Hey there, (N/n)!”

It was only when you heard a familiar voice did you open your eyes again.

An attractive and familiar young man lazily leaned on one hand on your door, completely blocking your dorm room. “Are you gonna talk to me now, or are you just going to ignore me for the rest of the school year?”

He’s here.

You steeled yourself.

“Gautier…” You exhaled.

“Oof, “Gautier”, they said,” he frowned. “Not a single “I miss you, Sylvain”? No “gosh, sorry I didn’t talk to you for so long, I was just too shy to admit that I was wrong!”?”

You chuckled nervously.

“Perceptive as ever, I see.” But you weren’t wrong. Becoming a Golden Deer was the right path for you.

“Not perceptive, but hopeful really,” Sylvain shrugged. “Based on that reply, I’m glad my wishful thinking was spot on. You do miss me.”

“I do, but I now just realized I’m not prepared for this conversation,” you said, surprised by your upfront and composed anxiety. That talk with Dimitri seriously drained all the energy you garnered earlier. “Can we do this later?”

“No can do. I shall allow you passage if thee speaks from the heart,” he teased with his signature ladykiller grin. “Go on, say it~”

You sighed, burlesquely exasperated.

The two of you adore theater, so talks like these were commonplace. He’d mask his flaws when confessing sins in this manner, but you prefer to hear his real justifications. In any case, this is just another conquest for him to gad off and hunt some girls in another house— and your new professor is undoubtedly a sight to behold.

“Oh, Sylvain, mine dear friend, thou art missed for nearly half a decade, but mine fear did not condone myself to reach out.”

Like two birds of a feather, you also similarly mask your sentimentality.

Funny how you can easily say you miss Sylvain, but not Dimitri.

Sylvain smiled. Genuinely, this time.

“Good.”

The resolution was surprisingly fast. You were willing to bet you both anticipated a serious confrontation– a meeting that feels like a long-awaited class reunion after a war or so. But no.

The two of you are still flawed yet perceptive idiots after 4 years of not talking.

You both laughed in unison.

What were you worrying about anyway? You knew that at this point if Sylvain was angry at you for leaving, he should have grown tired of that emotion.

His primary grudge had always been the crest system, not you.

You should've had this talk earlier, he's the only one in the Blue Lions you were sure won't blame a crestless noble like you for those circumstances.

“Now move, Gautier.”

He stepped aside smugly.

…

You opened your mouth in surprised indignation.

“Why does my room look clean?”

“I had Mercedes help me clean it up the moment I took a look inside. Seriously, I can’t believe you managed to live in a complete pigsty—”

“It’s like you want to sour our reestablished friendship in under 5 minutes, Sylvie.”

“...”

“What? Too old to be called Sylvie nowadays?”

“No, keep calling me that,”

Sylvain never stopped smiling.

“Oh, and by the way? I miss you too, (N/n).”

“… There you are.”

As soon as Sylvain left the hall to your dorm, he was greeted by the sight of the crown prince lingering in front of the stairways. Unlike Sylvain, he was not leaning on anything while waiting. The prince stood straight, dignified.

Then again, Sylvain knew his royal motivations lie in jealousy— and that’s far from “dignified.”

Sylvain can tell from his stiff stance that Claude was particularly touchy-feely earlier, which was exactly why he requested Lorenz to relay the message instead rather than the house leader. His Highness must’ve seen how close you sat beside Raphael and then Claude. The Golden Deer's leader knew Dimitri was obsessed with you— he probably intended to provoke him for the upcoming Battle of Eagle and Lion. It didn't help that Dimitri had his eyes on you, always. If not him, then Dedue.

Not that Claude's scheme will work. Dimitri was satisfied just to see you smile, even when it pains him to acknowledge that it wasn’t for him or because of him.

Sylvain is an exception to that rule.

Dimitri had a cold glint in his azure eyes, but his gaze all but glared at Sylvain. He had a smidgen of control, for now. But it’s not long until what Sylvain had prophesied about the crown prince quipping a remark or two about staying away from you will occur.

“Waiting for me to explain my random decision, I’m guessing?”

“Oh, I simply liked standing here but sure, Sylvain! I’d dearly love to know the rational thought behind switching houses out of the blue. It is not as if Felix and Ingrid were worried about you,” Dimitri generously gave his princely smile.

Sometimes, Sylvain forgets it was physically possible for someone so austere with himself like Dimitri to say something laced with malicious sarcasm. But Sylvain knew Dimitri stood there because he was still worried about his friend, even when he pretends to be unbothered.

Like bread and butter, Dimitri and forced positivism complement each other disastrously well. The Blue Lions often caught him murmuring things like "I'm delighted (Y/n) is making new friends" or "I hope Claude continues to treat them well" despite having a glum expression on his face, obviously bottling up his envy. Felix finds it as easy as breathing to call him out on this behavior: "Why bother stalking them when you can't handle the envy you feel when they hugged Lorenz or held hands with Marianne? ”

His Highness never answered that question. He thinks had kept his feral thoughts at bay most of the time and will continue to do so.

Still… Raphael, Claude, and then Sylvain… Dimitri can’t catch a break.

Why do all these men keep approaching you?

Will you never recognize the perpetual anguish that befall him the moment you didn't reach for his hand and took Count Gloucester's that day? Have you no sympathy for the man that promised your protection— for the boy you trained and sneaked out when you thought the king wasn't looking? Whenever he wakes up the following morning without you, do you not experience the same emptiness and loneliness that he does?

Was it because he is a "troubled prince" nowadays?

Was it because he couldn't taste anything anymore?

Why did you eat saghert and cream with Ignatz instead of him at the cafeteria?

Why did these men have to ruin the one taste he can recall?

He lies awake every night to the sound of phantom screams from fallen soldiers, friends, and family against his hand-covered ears.

But you were his solace. His “God/dess”.

And just like with the Goddess Sothis, he lacked the means to grasp your hand...

If only his cold hands could wring those men's necks as well...

“... Do you really want to know, Your Highness?”

It took Dimitri a while before he snapped out of his trance. His voice dipped low, his breathing uneasy, and his eyes lacked focus.

Sylvain looked at him with pity Dimitri wished you spared him instead.

“Yes,” he exhaled. “It shall help our friends put their minds at ease.”

“Well, well, you're sure it's not because you'll miss me?”

“Sylvain.”

“Okay, fine, I’ll tell you,” Sylvain dreamily gazed up at the sky and boldly proclaimed:

“The new professor was hot.”

“Sylvain!—”

“Calm down, Your Highness! That was just a joke.”

Unlikely.

“I joined because (Y/n) is there.”

Dimitri froze.

The meaning behind those words could either be tolerable or impermissible enough to make the prince push Sylvain to the training grounds without remorse.

Sylvain’s not going to try and suddenly woo you now, will he?

You did grow more gorgeous after four years after all…

But Sylvain can't have you— Dimitri might just lose it. Out of everyone on campus, he refuses to let an adamant skirt-chaser take you.

“… Elaborate.”

“Elaborate? What’s there to elaborate?” Sylvain crossed his arms behind his back, now back to his laissez-faire attitude in life. He cackled to himself, absolutely unrepentant. “Is it bad that I want to reunite with an old friend? You know, before they were your friend, they were mine. Don’t forget that we’re both older than you, Dimitri.”

Multiple considerations led to why Sylvain chose to frolic with the deers rather than squander the school year at the lion’s den. One of these includes avoiding Ingrid’s nagging— he can’t be bothered having a pegasus pecking around while he galavants with (unfortunate) women.

But most of it boiled down to reunite with the one platonic relationship he missed.

Sylvain became Dimitri’s ally through you. Had you not approached Sylvain and Dimitri during one of King Lambert’s birthday celebrations, they wouldn’t have initiated a friendship through a children’s version of a bergamot tea party away from drunken nobility. More opportunities to befriend the prince would’ve likely presented themselves through Ingrid and Felix, but that memory of tiny cups and tea-stained shoes was special because it had you.

Because you were smart and kind enough to drag Sylvain out of his older brother’s schemes of public humiliation under the guise of being “invited” to an audience with royalty.

You were more of a sibling than Miklan ever was.

“By two years,” Dimitri stressed. “You’re only older than me by two years.”

“Your point? Doesn’t change the fact that compared to most students this year, we’re one of the older ones.”

He bit his bottom lip.

Age was one of Dimitri’s insecurities. It cannot be helped— if he were only older, people would’ve listened to his testimony for the people of Duscur more seriously— if he were only older, he would’ve had control over his uncle—

Dimitri’s knuckles grew white underneath his gloves.

If he were only older, then maybe you would’ve stayed by his side.

“What a lark. Are you attempting to compete on who had a better relationship with (Y/n)?”

“No, Your Highness, YOU are.”

Dimitri’s eyes widened. He hadn’t realized that those pointed words he spoke aimed towards himself like a misthrown javelin.

"Let’s be honest, Your Highness. I’m saying this as a friend, but you could be a bit tone-deaf and insufferable around them,” Sylvain deadpanned. “You had some serious attachment issues and you never listen when they tell you to stop with all those creepy comments about protecting them forever.”

“Is… Is that so?”

Dimitri muttered to himself while looking at his shoes, sounding almost broken. He had doubts, but Sylvain’s words practically cemented that you’d be unwilling to spend time with him again.

“Besides, if this were a competition, you lost the moment I waited at their dorm.”

The prince’s head snapped back up like a confused puppy.

“Why is that?”

What a horrible thing to ask.

“Because (Y/n) just told me that they missed me,” Sylvain smirked.

“And if you were there, you could’ve heard them call me Sylvie too, just like the good old days.”

Since that talk with Sylvain, Dimitri wanted to make you as lonely as him.

Oh, how he badly wanted to whisk you away from that house– oh just how much he wished he could force you to wear his cape– to wear the color of the lions.

But none of that matters now.

You look prettier when doused in splattered red.

The soil sipped the blood that drained from Ignatz's head. It reminded you of the time you asked the painter if he could use blood as a dye. If he were to watch this scene, he would've waxed poetic about how he will be simply returning his life to the earth, but the beauty of death is lost on you. The gravity of war weighed far more than the theatrics of what-he-would've-spoken.

It’s been five years since the war started.

You had lost your voice two years ago the moment Dimitri kidnapped you on your expedition to Garreg Mach— you’ve mistaken him for a bandit and in a blind rage, he dealt a massive blow to your neck. Dimitri didn’t mind that you had lost your ability to speak he seemed to relish that you’re similarly deformed. He romanticized both your disabilities often. A “God/dess” who couldn’t speak and a “boar” who couldn’t quite see. What a royal pair indeed…

You can’t say your prayers now, but you hoped thinking about praying for Ignatz was enough…

Ignatz should've turned 22 this year. Based on the way he last behaved, he didn't seem prepared for this war and had been misplaced by Professor Byleth.

You’ll never be able to eat saghert and cream with him again.

You can't remember what tactic you used in this battle. Was it Felix who was assigned to stick ten feet away from you who had slain Ignatz? Or was it Ingrid who rode her pegasus to stab the sniper in a suicidal fashion?

This entire battle is a blur. You can no longer stand straight and aim your sword reluctantly toward anyone.

Why can't everything go back to how it was before? Why can't you just fish at the Great Bridge of Myrddin with Uncle Erwin again?

You wobbled down the grass as a wyvern obstructed your view with its proud albino scales cruising the sky. Claude sits atop, his face stony through a nearly unrecognizable expression of placid anger. His emerald eyes inevitably met yours.

You didn't stand with your sword supporting you, and he didn't draw his bow either. Instead, before leaving to find the bright red target everyone called an "Emperor", Claude mouthed words that only you two could understand. You uttered nothing in response. Even if Claude were to succeed, his scheme would be futile.

Sylvain can’t save you from Dimitri.

Like a fairytale, it begins and ends with the crown prince. It always had.

But if Dimitri was the protagonist of this story, then pray tell, what does that make you?

A damsel in distress?

The king's court jester?

All you ever wanted was for House (L/n) to survive, to preserve your family name and dwindling territory against House Charon. You desired the opportunity to emulate your father. A fearless front-liner and a skilled tactician.

However, you have not taken any real action to end this war. You moved like a weak infantry, unable to maintain balance on one leg or call out for upcoming danger.

You just can’t run away from the lions anymore.

"Get up."

You couldn't move, mortified.

His Highness is back.

"I said GET UP!!!"

His iron-like hands yanked your hair up, and you felt some of it weeded out by his sheer brute force. You wept immediately but held back tears. Despite your commitment to keeping your composure, he had torn away what little hold you had left on what you call "stability." Your knees shook as his tall figure began to drag you away. Each step felt more jagged than the last. Your heart beat erratically as you worried about toppling down– and when you inevitably did, he was there to pick you up.

For Dimitri, this situation was advantageous. Most Golden Deers are here, which meant he had opportunities to route them all. He had already stabbed Ignatz, incessantly. Each draw of his lance— each crack of the artist’s glasses and bones— rejuvenated whatever youth war had stolen from him. The future king of lions couldn’t stop grinning maniacally as his eyes lay upon a deer’s corpse. It was as if his sense of taste was coming back. All of his soldiers and classmates were too terrified to stop his senseless slaughter. If Gustave did not scold him about the oncoming army, he would’ve continued damaging the corpse senselessly.

But it’s only a matter of time until he shoots for the leader of the herd as well.

He still hasn’t forgiven him for using his beloved against him back at the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. This was the perfect opportunity for revenge. Once they’re out of the picture, then it’s only Edelgard left who he had to worry about— but until then, he’ll have to take the deers’ lives for stealing his beloved away.

Shame that Lorenz had yet to be found.

"Tch. Fool."

He cradled you like a bride but gripped your jaw like a hostage. Dimitri's current appearance is much too different from what he used to be. Sweat and blood had greased up his unruly hair, and the blue cloak that was slung over his shoulders was much dirtier.

"I command you to eat."

It was almost sweet. Almost kind when his voice softened for just a millisecond. Almost touching how his one eye gazed upon your sunken features with disdain.

But your appreciation for it all vanished the moment he robbed something from Ignatz's corpse.

"Eat."

He shoved onto you Ignatz's last bloody loaf of bread. It was hard, yet soaked.

Your throat couldn't express how terrified you were upon holding it.

"Gone deaf as well, have we?"

He pushed the bread closer to your chest, effectively crushing it against you. Dimitri breathed against your ear.

"I SAID: EAT.”

Your tears and Ignatz's blood salted your food.

The bread tasted just like the ones Raphael's family had in their inn.

Ignatz… He probably got this from Raphael… Which means he's in Gronder as well…

You sobbed as you took a feeble bite.

Please… Please be safe, Raphael.

Dimitri saw your struggle. He saw your continued concern for those who were after his life and yours. Why do you spare sympathy for the bodies that got in the way between you and him? They did not warrant those tears. The weak must fall— even he too will join them someday.

And so, Dimitri closed his eye.

You’ve gone fragile in his arms, and that was not spoken in a romantic sense. He had fractured your right leg enough to make you use your sword as a cane, yet he insists on dragging you in combat. Time and time again, he forces you to witness what he is capable of and more till you’re unable to write complaints.

Dimitri wanted to reassure you that you’re on the right side of history.

That you can cut a path beside him— you just weren’t trying hard enough before.

And it was a challenge the prince can’t easily scale. You never showed your appreciation for longer than a minute. When he learned how to dance begrudgingly with El after she had poisoned him with thoughts that he could use her teachings someday to dance with you— you dared to ask Sylvain out during the White Heron Cup. When he tried to give you a more fancy dagger as well during El’s parting, you admired Sylvain’s coincidental parcel of theater tickets and tea leaves instead.

Sylvain, Sylvain, Sylvain—

It was always Sylvain.

His entire body shook from laughter. You shriveled in fear as his voice echoed throughout the battlefield.

The beast put you down underneath a tree's shade that he deemed as safe.

… and kissed your forehead.

“I can see him approaching us.”

Dimitri cooed mockingly.

“Shall I decapitate and mount that filthy rat's head on a silver plate?”

You didn’t need to hear him utter his name to know he was referring to Sylvain. It was tempting to challenge him on how he could say such a thing about someone who had once been a friend, but that inquiry wouldn't help. Dimitri cupped your face and wiped your tears away with his rough and heavy hands. You flinch so easily nowadays.

How adorable.

Five years ago, you won't move a muscle whenever he kissed your forehead good night.

Five years ago, he worried about accidentally waking you up and exposing himself for breaking into your dorm so often just to drop his unhinged love letters.

Five years ago, watching you rest allowed moments of respite.

However, it didn’t invigorate him as much as your tears did now.

“Fret not, my fellow monster, I shall fetch it for you,”

He tightened his grip on his areadbhar, scanning the right field. The lance's crest stone glowed, and there was no looking back after that.

You’re here now, and he will NEVER let you leave. He won’t have a repeat of what had occurred when Count Gloucester was present around nine years ago or so. He’ll protect you this time, and it no longer mattered to him if he were a corpse or a monster in your eyes. It mattered not that he no longer slept. He intends to keep you alive and by his side, just like what he had promised in his childhood.

You can't even begin to imagine how much being away from you ruined him.

He had reached the point where he will kill everyone that tried to touch you, and he won’t have someone else do it, too.

Was this love or obsession? Likely both, if you were to ask Lady Rhea.

But what does Rhea know about Dimitri’s mental state anyways? She’s been missing for years now, she might as well be dead to you.

Without thinking, you grabbed his cloak. He patted your head but his eyes were locked on the cavalry unit from afar, and the dark and sinister smirk on his face solidified your fears.

Sylvain approached faster, and you did your best not to cry.

If he dares to fight Dimitri in the state he is now, then he might as well be a dead man walking too.

You wished you didn’t have to join the Golden Deer house— you wished Sylvain didn’t follow suit— and you wish you didn’t leave Sylvain behind. You did not doubt that if it hadn’t been for you, Dimitri would have concentrated only on Edelgard and joined forces with Claude to eliminate her. It would have given this historical period a more coordinated scheme. History won’t have to remember you as the catalyst that made things worse.

"(N/n)!"

You heard Sylvain yell from behind Dimitri, which only made your heart ache more.

It's been years since you last heard his voice again.

Dimitri took your warm hands and brushed his cheek against it, no matter how obvious it was that your eyes yearned for someone else’s touch.

He looked at you with such a soft gaze that you nearly forgot the monster he had become.

“Once we hang his head on our bedroom wall, you have no right to complain about missing “Sylvie” ever again, my beloved.”

#dimitri alexandre blaiddyd x reader #dimitri x reader #yandere dimitri #yandere dimitri x reader #yandere fire emblem #fire emblem x reader #fe dimitri #fe dimitri x reader #fe3h #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem 3 houses #yandere dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #yandere fire emblem: three houses #ansy-writes #ansy-comms #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd

355 notes · View notes