#WEED EATER

[baker6969]

[merryfortune]

Weed Eater

Written for the FE Flash Fic Friday on Dreamwidth

Prompt: MLM Ships

Title: Weed Eater

Ship: Dedue/Dimitri

Fandom: Fire Emblem Three Houses

Word Count: 1,432

Rating: T

Tags: Alternate Universe - Gardenverse, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Blue Lions Route

   There was a type of folk considered fey amongst the people of Duscur. Not spoken of often because it was so unusual, even they considered the talk of the Flower Eaters to be but a poorly remembered myth. This, too, was a legacy that Dedue embodied, too, for better or for worse. It was considered as unlucky as it was beautiful.

   He still remembered the confusion and the elation, when he was a young child. Still small and innocent and naive to the ways of the world and he expressed his love with how any child would: with wild flowers freshly picked.

   “Mama, Mama, look what I can do!” he had cried out, happy and joyous with a big smile on his face. He was what? Four?

   The look of fondness on his Mother’s face turned in an instant as Dedue showed her what was in his hands and it was not a trick of light. As he uncurled his fingers, the flowers that he unveiled were not from the garden but from him.

   “Dedue, my love, you must never show this talent of yours to anyone, understand?” his Mother warned him as she accepted the little, yellow flowers Dedue had produced from his palm. “And you must always avoid anyone who would want to eat them.”

   That was even unluckier. To be a Flower Eater. That was a curse far greater and heavier than the one which Dedue had upon him as a Flower Grower - or Florist, as he would come to hear amongst the mainland of Fódland. Turns out they were in tune with different bits and pieces of Duscur lore, filtered through inaccuracies. A long, long tale which had changed every time it had been spoken between two people. 

   Much like a school rumour, actually. 

   Deduce did his best, at the Officers Academy, to be as detached as possible but people talked. Even to him. Though he did his best to not talk back. 

   He minded his own business. He kept to himself, to the greenhouse, and no one was none the wiser to Dedue’s status as a Florist. People knew he had a green thumb but no one suspected that there was something more to his talent and gift with plants was nothing more than the innate knack that certain gardeners had.

   No one except Dimitri and Dedue had his own suspicions about what exactly Dimitri was.

   More than a friend, a house leader, a lord or a prince. There was a great darkness inside of him as well but Dimitri did his best to obscure it underneath a well-controlled and amiable persona. This extended far and wide to being close and personal.

   However, Dedue didn’t want to talk about Duscur traditions or lore with Dimitri. Though, sometimes Dimitri would pry about innocuous things. Food, fashion, geography. The most surface level things so he could try and be close with him but Dedue was ever a brick wall. 

   Though a watchful one.

   Maybe he was channelling his Mother, her spirit and her memory, too much but he saw the signs. Dimitri was exactly the type of person she used to warn him about. The Flower Eater. No Fódland name for it, as far as Dedue had heard, anyway.

   They were characterised as the tragics, the obsessives, the ones who were always hungry for… something. Be it flesh or… be it flowers. 

   Dimitri was exactly that person and a little quip that he let slip confirmed it in Dedue’s mind. To anyone else it would have been funny but Dimitri wanted to eat the weeds. They had been assigned to gardening related tasks, like pulling weeds, by Professor Byleth to help. 

   And it only worsened from there, Dedue would observe from Dimitri’s side.

   He was a very different person. 

   To everyone bar Dedue.

   He had always sensed that one day Dimitri would snap. That he was hungry in a way that civil society could not provide as it went beyond a need for food but for vengeance. For blood and flesh and… flowers.

   After everything that had happened. Edelgard’s assault on the Academy. His separation from Dimitri and the allies that he had amongst his Blue Lion classmates, Dedue shuddered with recollection. There was still much to be done, such as restoring the Holy Kingdom, clearing the name of the Duscur people, and more. 

   “I’m … I’m happy to know you are still alive, Dedue,” Dimitri grovelled to him. “And that you are real.”

   “Yes, I’m real.” Dedue replied.

   He let Dimitri touch him. To confirm his warmth, his heartbeat, his breath. 

   Though much of Dimitri’s sanity appeared to have returned to him as he got catharsis from facing Edelgard or returning to tutelage in Professor Byleth’s stead, and yes, of course, Dedue’s return to his side as vassal. There was still more to be regained, if it could at all, and an underlying fragility despite Dimitri’s present calm and serenity.

   There was still more that Dedue could do for Dimitri.

   He waited until an appropriate time. He had never disclosed this to anyone. His family had known but no one else knew. So, Dedue waited for a calm, blue night when the moon was big and full and the purest white. He invited Dimitri for a late night walk to the gardens. Just them and their companionship. Nothing more, nothing less. 

   Standing by the gazebo with his hands behind his back, gazing out over the lawn, “Can I tell you a secret?” Dedue asked.

   He was finally ready to open up. He watched as Dimitri visibly perked up and for a moment, Dedue saw a flash of Dimitri’s seventeen year old self in the world weary and one-eyed face that he now bore. It made Dedue’s heart falter but he steeled himself.

   If he was correct, if Dimitri was a Flower Eater like he thought, then his Mother’s wisdom was too far gone on him. Dedue had doomed himself the minute he pledged allegiance to Dimitri in gratitude for saving him. 

   “Please, go ahead.” Dimitri told him.

   “I want you to know this.” Dedue said.

   As he had grown older, it had become less easy to hide his condition. As a child, it was a painless magic trick, like a sleight of hand, to produce these flowers from his body but as he went through adolescence, that was part of his body which changed. He had to shave them off like he would the whiskers on his chin, sometimes it would even hurt when these pretty, dainty little yellow flowers would bloom. 

   Dimitri watched, mutedly amazed, as Dedue showed him this legacy of Duscur, too. 

   They lived in a world, amongst people, who conjure lightning and fire, control the winds, and yet this simple little thing elicited such oddness and mystery. It was strange. 

   Dimitri caressed the petal of the flower, he followed the natural arc of it with his finger. It was soft, he noted. All whilst Dedue told him bits and pieces from his Mother’s fairy tales. How his siblings used to be jealous of him because he had a gift that they did not and that was unfair. 

   Dimitri listened intently.

   “I had no idea that such people existed.” Dimitri said, quietly awed. “I must be quite fortunate to have you by my side then.”

   “Yes, about that…” Dedue murmured.

   He plucked the flower and his fingers reacted as though he had given himself a paper cut. There was a thin line of red on his palm, like a scratch, and an involuntary twitch amongst his fingers. He offered it to Dimitri but when Dimitri tried to accept it with his hands, Dedue glared. He kept going. He offered to feed it to Dimitri and Dimitri, confused, did open his mouth.

   Dimitri chewed thoughtfully. Dedue had never once wondered what the flowers he produced would taste like. He had never seriously thought that he would encounter a counterpart to his own condition but Dimitri’s expression.

   “I like the taste of it.” Dimitri whispered. His lips quivered, like he was holding back an involuntary smile. Colour, ever so slightly, was added to his cheeks, too, that he could not interfere with. 

   Dedue blinked. He was actually taken aback to hear that considering… Dimitri was not known to be an auteur of taste or otherwise a gourmand. But it did flatter him to hear so. Even if it did affirm in Dedue’s mind that Dimitri was as every bit as tragic and obsessive and hungry as Dedue was promised when he was warned of as a child. 

[daftaiyo]

GILLION!!!

[conkreetmonkey]

Look, all I'm saying is that we now have the exact right amount of technology to make Rusty and Ventrillomatic from the infamous Veggietales WEED EATER bit real, like actually EXACTLY as they were portrayed on the show. We have voice recognition. We have janky TTS. We have a computer program that can generate random nonsense in response to any prompt.

[peanutbuttaz]

peanur DRUGS ERA!?!

U BETCHA!

[bocchidaily]

Day 262: Today she gets to eat more stylish weeds than usual

[skrunksthatwunk]

kurama has access to forbidden strains + shiori wedding shenanigans

[bridge-demon]

these idiots give me dopamine. // soul eater memes 4 / ?

soul eater memes 1. || se memes 2. || se memes 3.

[illalwaysbealoserforlove]

I wanna fuck your cunt so bad,

I wanna get you so wet that I'll slide in so easy and can just start using you.

I want to make you fucking cum so hard as I fuck that dumb little cunt, so horny that I can't wait.

I just need to fuck you

I need to have you until I fill you up as many times as I can, until you're just dripping cum from every hole, fuckkkkkkk

[heavenlyakin]

Suguru who is obsessed with lawn care.

The second you buy your first home with him he’s at the nearest home improvement store buying the newest model lawn mower and weed eater. You’re amused with his commitment, never really paying attention to it when he’s outside taking care of business. You let him have his fun every Saturday, hours spent outside while you catch up on tv shows and your favorite novels.

However, one Saturday morning you get curious and set down your book. You hold your warm coffee mug between your hands, looking out the window from the curtains, watching as he rides the lawn mower back and forth through your backyard, leaving behind perfectly striped grass. The sun beats down on him and you see the sweat glistening on his skin.

You smile, biting your bottom lip to keep from grinning too widely. You have to crane your neck to watch him out the mower up in the shed, wiping his forehead with a towel, but then grabbing the weed eater. He revs it up a few times, the muscles in his arm flexing as he goes.

You’re embarrassed when you meet eyes through the glass window as he cleans up the high grass around the house, his eyebrows raised in amusement. Your cheeks heat and you start to turn around, but Suguru’s unserious ass kisses the window and you, of course, kiss him back through the glass.

[sannyo-appreciation-posts]

[fourse]

get munching

who do you kin in TBS the most so far?

Dolla join (not elaborating)

[midnightcaptions]

hc soul talks maka into getting high with him once and suddenly she understands jazz

[blackbloodteeth]

Snippet Sunday, raaaaaaaah Thank you for the tag @chickycherrycola, here's where the animal question ended up :3c (as well as the stoner bit haha). Also just something that went through my head last night so this was perfect for this haha

This snippet's gotta lotta weed smells, but enjoy the vibe hah

———

The door closes quietly to his side, which isn't saying much with the music still booming throughout the house. He can feel it even as he trudges down the stair's steps, softer and softer with each slow stride down the pavement of the surrounding back garden. Synthesizers echo like beach waves even as he holds it all in his chest, fingers silently rubbing together in his jean pockets while he carries on towards the edge of the garden, finally letting out a sigh when he can see the full moon bathing everything outside the hanging lights in a soft and gentle glow.

The chirps of crickets keep him company, gazing towards the night sky, barely a cloud or faint hint of the color taken by dusk as Soul loosens another longing breath and just lets him be himself. Shaggy hair spreads out from his face, covering his neck in a mane and layering the rest of his body in a fine coat, ending in a hanging tail he'd admittedly accept being called fluffy. His elongated snout – full of sharp canine teeth – hinges open as he then holds a rolled up smoke in it to retrieve his lighter and spark the end of it.

Vivid embers flare up a little as he seeps the thick scent of cannabis into his lungs, thumb fidgeting back and forth over the lighter's metal until the plume frees itself with almost a whistle, Soul's eyes lazily falling on the moon again. It's a nice night for what it is, not too hot and pretty peaceful, all things considered for a maned wolf like him. Great for keeping his mind off things, really… Not that it would ever last though when a sudden noise flips his ears behind him, honing in on footsteps that he soon follows with his human eyes as the fur and tail and claws have already retreated back into himself.

He takes another casual puff though when he catches on to the pretty black dress and braided hair belonging to none other than Maka, who playfully rolls her eyes when he tosses a wave at her. Well, a great night's always better with her, anyway.

Maka doesn't say much while she strolls past all the closed-up flowers for the night and eventually wanders close enough to Soul's side. She's just turning the drink around in her hands, so might as well see what conversation his stoner-addled brain can come up with.

"You ever feel like… you never really fit in?" Outstanding start, genius. "I- I mean don't get me wrong, you guys are great and the party's fun, but….." Fumbled.

"Says the introvert."

Omega fumbled. "Yeah, well, I do like hangin' with you guys, but I, um… Nevermind, it's dumb……"

Soul takes a long, deep breath of smoke so he doesn't have to speak anymore or think about that snorty little way Maka laughs- Not like malicious, just…

"Don't worry, I get what you're saying." His thumb runs back and forth over the top of the lighter, her fingers tapping against the side of the plastic party cup. "For what it's worth though…"

The still-lit weed almost drops right from his gaping mouth as he watches her hair reform her face into a muzzle, long claws soon curled around the cup and a brilliant split of blonde and auburn that extends into a stubby tail peeking out from underneath the lower frill of her dress. A fang flashes at him while she sighs whimsically towards the moonlight, a smile sitting on the maw of a short, fearsome gal – A honey badger. Somehow it… all makes sense now.

"…I don't care where you fit in, just that it's never really a party without you."

Even with the dark of the night blending with the light of the indistinguishable echoing of the house, the mossy, earthy green of Maka's eyes fully captivates him, stealing all of his breath away until time resumes when he has to blink and turn away, chuckling to take a drag of smoke again. Pulling into his lungs, and out through the canine teeth of his long snout, fluffy tail wagging ever so slightly. Neither of them need to say anything, just standing in each other's company with the cricket song and moonlight painting it all in a comfortable fuzziness.

We won't say he doesn't eventually call her cute and that she halfheartedly punches him in the arm for it, though.