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I miss the parts of Web 2.0 that didn't completely suck
Askbox fic on Tumblr was great.
Anyway Fire Emblem: Three Houses is currently eating my life, somehow (Scott is how, every time "somehow" ends a sentence about a fandom it's Scott) and there are TOO MANY GOOD SHIPS AND CHARACTER DYNAMICS TO JUST WRITE PROPER FIC FOR EVERYTHING leave me comment prompts and you might get words. Leave as many comment prompts as you want; it will increase your odds that at least one will hit.
("kate last time you did a prompt post--" I know I know but I made a sincere effort and that's what counts in life.)
Anyway Fire Emblem: Three Houses is currently eating my life, somehow (Scott is how, every time "somehow" ends a sentence about a fandom it's Scott) and there are TOO MANY GOOD SHIPS AND CHARACTER DYNAMICS TO JUST WRITE PROPER FIC FOR EVERYTHING leave me comment prompts and you might get words. Leave as many comment prompts as you want; it will increase your odds that at least one will hit.
("kate last time you did a prompt post--" I know I know but I made a sincere effort and that's what counts in life.)
- "hours turned to years (three gardens)" | yuri leclerc/bernadetta von varley | worksafe | before, during, after Garreg Mach [and yes I completely screwed up the timeline] | now on the AO3 (with the timeline corrected)
- "dear forgiveness," | dimitri blaiddyd & edelgard von hresvelg | worksafe | tag to "something other than the desperation" | now on the AO3
- "been inclined to believe they never would" | dimitri blaiddyd/byleth eisner ust, blue lions ensemble | worksafe | dimitri has A Situation. actually he has two situations and one of them is tragic. | now on the AO3
- "but you lack the conviction to look at me straight and say yes" [1 of X] | felix fraldarius/sylvain gautier | NSFWish | sometimes you propose a friends-with-benefits arrangement purely to save your friend from himself, yeah, that's it
been inclined to believe they never would
me:
me:
me: let’s go with Byleth existing and not realizing how much they’re making Dimitri wanna die
contains a guest appearance by dimitri’s asshole brain, plus a hot-for-teacher dynamic of the “teacher would suggest moving class to basement if someone suggested it is too ‘hot’ in the classroom” sort, not that I think anyone in this comments section is going to be disturbed by that but, y’know]
Encouraging Byleth Eisner—Professor Byleth, Dimitri reminds himself again—to come teach the Blue Lions had been a catastrophic mistake. He can see that now. At the time he’d only been thinking of what an asset they would be to Faerghus; of their incredible skill, their power, their grace…
Well, it hadn’t been the first time he’d been dazzled by someone’s prowess on the battlefield. He had thought, foolishly, that it would pass, or at least that it would be endurable.
Byleth hooks their leg—their long, muscular, very much not-covered leg—around Dimitri’s and knocks his feet out from under him. He goes sprawling on his back at their feet, barely even feeling the impact against the sawdust-softened earth of the training ground as he lands.
“Are you okay?” Byleth asks, looking down at Dimitri with what he thinks might be concern. They’re backlit by the sun, radiant with it. Dimitri has to close his eyes for a moment. “You seem…shaken. I didn’t expect you to land that hard.”
“It has been a day full of the unexpected,” Dimitri says, sitting up carefully.
In the background, where his classmates have been watching him embarrass himself the entire time, Sylvain says, “I’ll say,” and then “Ow! Ingrid—”
Dimitri scrambles to his feet. “Shall we try again, Professor? This time I’ll endeavor to keep my balance a little longer so you can demonstrate properly.” He gives them his most winning smile, the one he uses to reassure Rodrigue, and after a moment’s hesitation Byleth nods.
It gets…easier. It does. That does not make it less of a mistake.
Dimitri gets a paper on how to best use mounted archers back with Very insightful. written on it in the dark blue ink Byleth favors and he can’t quite manage to restrain himself from sweeping his thumb over the words. The praise is as reserved as Byleth themself is, but that just means Dimitri can almost hear their voice as he reads. Warmth unfurls between his ribs.
“Pathetic,” Felix whispers, voice tight with familiar rage.
It is. Of course, Dimitri knows it is. Professor Byleth is his instructor, and a respected employee of the church chosen by Archbishop Rhea personally besides. They are brilliant, talented, kind, full of incredible promise. Dimitri is none of those.
“Following our professor around like you’re pretending to be something as loyal as a dog, when—”
“Felix,” Ingrid snaps.
At the front of the classroom, Byleth says, “Quiet, please, both of you.”
Ingrid chokes on an indignant sputter.
Dimitri drops his eyes to his paper again. Very insightful., Byleth had written. He pretends the period means there’s no room for doubt, that they will not change their opinion of him for the worse.
Three days later, after an hours-long exercise with counters on a map, Byleth puts a hand on his shoulder as they lean in to see the final configuration and says, “Well done,” and Dimitri forgets how to talk. He manages only a faint croaking noise as fire blooms under his skin.
“Oh, Professor!” Mercedes says, from directly across the map table. “Can you show me that approach over on the east side of the field again, please?”
Byleth takes their hand away from Dimitri and circles around to Mercedes’s side. Dimitri swallows and says, “I’m glad we reached a satisfactory answer, Professor.”
Mercedes twinkles at him.
Dimitri considers asking Claude or Edelgard if he might be allowed to change his name and transfer into one of their Houses. It would be better for everyone, and not just a relief for him. But no, he cannot run from his obligations, and those are more important.
“Your Highness,” Ingrid says when she finds Dimitri stretching his legs near the fishpond.
He looks at her.
“Never mind,” she says, and goes on her way.
It isn’t—he had grown cramped, researching in the library. It had been necessary to move to keep his muscles limber. Byleth isn’t even fishing, right now; they’re with Professors Manuela and Hanneman, discussing lesson plans or something of that nature. Dimitri isn’t following them.
He did meet them at the fishpond once. Their face was relaxed instead of blank, their eyes luminous. They’d seemed…happy.
Dimitri wouldn’t intrude on that. He truly wouldn’t. He just likes to think of them happy, while he buries himself in old records and ugly secrets.
“Ingrid!” he calls after her.
Ingrid stops and turns.
“I don’t… Please don’t…”
“It’s all right,” she says gently. “Enjoy your walk.”
It is not all right. It’s an indulgence Dimitri hadn’t considered until he was caught at it, and now that he has been—
Enough.
Five years later, Byleth’s ghost finds Dimitri. They will demand he kill that woman, and maybe for them he’ll at last be able to find her and obey.
He hates that he’s dragged them into this after all.
Their hand, outstretched, is clean. No blood, no bone, no burns, no broken nails. The cloak falls back from their arm, which is just as whole and firm.
Dimitri stares.
They make no demand of him. They just stand there, luminous, reaching out to him with a hand that does not grasp or claw.
They are…alive?
Dimitri finds his feet, and his voice, and gets up to follow them, because what else has he ever been able to do?
Re: been inclined to believe they never would
Re: been inclined to believe they never would