#byleth eisner king

[fotocynthese]

Burger King

[cosmosnout]

Happy pride🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️‼️I gift you genderfluid Byleth

[prwlnglthr]

over on my fe twitter, I'd share wips and one-night doodles-sketches-what-will-yous with my circle. circles died :( so here's the highlight reel!!

[mochipicchu776]

🌹 "I may be restrained by your roses, Tempest King, but it is *you* who is wrapped around my finger"🌹

🌹My art piece for the Dimileth Garden Gala inspired by Roses of Restraint by Oliver Ler Marinkoski🌹

Tempest King Dimitri has captured the ever-elusive immortal dragon Byleth. Driven mad by her allure, he uses his liberty as king to secretly visit her cell in the hidden dungeons of Blaiddyd Castle decorating her in his roses. Each night, he proposes she either submit to his demands for her release the easy way, or be claimed as his queen the hard way.

Little does he know... she likes the hard way, and he is happy to comply. 🌹

[mwezina]

King of Cups & FE3H

The King of Cups is a levelheaded king, who rules through compassion and dialogue. He is passionate and committed to his cause, as shown by the flashes of red upon his body and on the ships in the background, but he is intuitive and balanced in his approach. The King of Cups is the fire of water. While he has ambitions and cares for the bigger picture, his ultimate goals are always in alignment with his community and his loved ones. 

The throne he sits upon is uplifted by the water, showing his connection with emotions and faith. His throne is grey, showing his impartiality. He is the sort of authority figure that dispenses forgiveness and blessing, creating a serene environment for all, despite the turbulence of emotions. 

I had a lot of trouble connecting this with a character, but settled on Byleth in their Silver Snow or Azure Moon endings. They are filled and fulfilled by their love for their students and their community. Just like the King of Cups with his fish scale shoes, Byleth has been touched by the emotions of others and begins to take these aspects on themself. They now have the ability to traverse through complicated emotions instead of ignoring them. 

Byleth also takes on an advisor’s role with students, faculty, and eventually all of Garreg Mach. As a professor, they guided students towards living a more fulfilling life, and as archbishop, they will guide all of Fódlan towards a more enlightened and divine existence. 

But what do you think? Is there another Church of Seiros character that would suit this card better?

Previous: Queen of Cups

Next: The Swords

[slotumn]

Been thinking a lot about what exactly it would take for Byleth to establish a long-lasting united Fódlan in endings where they become king

Of course there's stuff like infrastructure and welfare, but one of the unpleasant but necessary things they'd have to do is a hard crackdown on sectarianism and separatism along old lines. We already see suggestions of remnant Adrestian (Agarthan?) insurgents in some endings, and it seems likely that there are probably other old remaining grudges.

For example, the east/west divide in former Kingdom territory, which also comes with a fun dose of religious sectarianism due to the Western Church. The north/south rivalry in Leicester, and in VW, the possibility of Leicester trying to exploit other regions. Hell, even the Central Church, because they were a part of old sectarian conflicts too, not just with the Empire but also with the Western Church.

And in practice, I think a lot of that crackdown would have to be done by shady and unpleasant means, especially in early years of post-war rebuilding. Assassinating separatist leaders, stalking and surveillance on potential supporters, incentivizing them to rat each other out, etc. No such thing as trials, with the exception of some notorious figures, which is really just a show to send a message before they get executed. Sure, the ultimate goal is to educate the general populace on why sectarianism is bad and people should not oppress and kill each other along tribalistic lines, but that takes time. Those who want to stoke separatism and sectarianism aren't gonna wait that long, though.

Basically the operating motto for the new Eisner regime would have to be, "no Empire, no Kingdom, no Alliance, and no Church— only Fódlan. (And if you even try to raise old flags and rebel against us, you will die.)"

Of course the stick has to come with the carrot, so I think they'd still allow celebration of regional traditions and whatnot. But that's the thing— Adrestia, Faerghus, and Leicester are now just regions within Fódlan. Eisner regime has to work overtime to deprive them of their national legitimacy if they want their own new government to survive, and I think it's perfectly plausible for them to be a little brutal about it.

Tl;dr Byleth taking on the worst traits/tactics of the house leaders + Rhea in order to be a ruler, and also still being the savior of Fódlan would be very sexy. More tyrannical than the Flame Emperor, more violent than the Tempest King, more underhanded than the Master Tactician, more indoctrination than the Archbishop, still goes down in history as one of its best and most beloved rulers.

[sheikahwarriork]

prompt for childhood enemies dimileth!!!

When Byleth was 6 years old, and Jeralt left her in the care of an inkeeper while he was doing merc jobs, a traveling caravan of rich people arrived to the inn, and she heard an ugly rich bowlcut blonde baby say his dad was the strongest and could beat anybody's dad and she choose violence.

Someone had to put the bowlcut in his place and make him understand Jeralt was the strongest.

Dimitri didn't want to fight back for his crest until Byleth called him a wussy... which is a word the mercs used around her and she didn't know what it meant.

(she fondly recalls this story as the first time she won a fight)

(dimitri still has bite scars from the incident and was very scared of girls for a long time)

(gustave was worried sick a commoner kid got the crown prince rabbies)

(they haven't connected the dots)

(This is the same anon who hates Dimitri's hair)

(hello dear dimitri's hair hater anon, i loved this prompt a lot! i changed some little points in the narration, but the main plotis the one you wrote. i really hope you'll like this :3)

wordcount: 1.2k

Byleth was extremely bored. Jeralt— no, he said to call him dad— Dad ­­went to do some cool mercenary stuff he said were 'too dangerous' for Byleth to attend. How silly! She was perfectly capable of taking care of enemies. She had the best teacher in the world, after all; the Blade Breaker’s abilities were well known along all Fodlan.

Of course, she was still only six, while her father was… How many years old was Jeralt again? She realised she didn’t know exactly. Probably the same age all dads were. Like three-hundred years old or something like that.

Byleth frowned. Did she need to wait three-hundred years to become as powerful as Jeralt? No, it was too far away from now! The little girl stood up. She needed to go training now.

She went out the little inn where Jeralt— Dad left her some days ago, heading for that nice spot she found out the day before to train with her new super powerful sword. (Well, wood sword. After the last time Byleth tried to train by herself, she almost chopped her own leg, so Jeralt took precautions by giving her a weapon that 'woudn’t hurt his precious little girl'. How melodramatic! But he chose it precisely for her. It was special. She wasn’t gonna break it!)

Her wandering gaze stopped when she noticed some people a few meters from her. She frowned. A tall guy with dark hair and a younger blonde boy with an ugly bowlcut were talking under a tree, the very tree of her perfect nice training spot.

She frowned again. As people said, Byleth wasn’t… the best at social interactions. She didn’t like talking to people, especially strangers. And she hated when she had to. Like this moment. She needed those two to get out of her new special training spot. She needed to train! To become more powerful! Like, right now!

The urge to train was bigger than her despise for talking to strangers, so she got closer to the tree, holding hard her sword. Byleth repeated in her mind Jeralt— Dad’s lessons about how ‘not to be too scary with other people’. She had to act nice.

“Hi. Get out of my training spot”.

A greeting! Super nice. ‘Good job, me’, she thought, pleased with herself.

The taller boy looked at her with surprise, but his expression quickly changed in a smile. “Hello, you fellow warrior”, he said in a condescending tone, winking.

Ugh. That was one of the thing Byleth hated the most: grown-ups treating her like she was just a little child!

“Get out, I said! I need to train”, she said, pointing at her sword.

Bowlcut boy frowned. “But you’re too young to train by your own!”

“What?!” Byleth exclaimed to him, annoyed.

“Yes! My dad says children shouldn’t fight until they grow up. And you look almost my age! So, you can’t train”, Bowlcut boy explained, nodding.

Byleth crossed her arms. “It doesn’t make sense! My dad helps me train since I was… younger than you!”

Bowlcut boy looked troubled. “Why does you dad train you?”

“Because I want to become strong, and he’s the strongest mercenary of all Fodlan!”, Byleth said with a hint of pride.

Now Bowlcut boy looked annoyed. “That’s not true! My dad is the strongest one! Glenn, tell her!” he added, looking at the taller annoying guy.

Tall-annoying guy was watching at them holding a hand over his mouth as if he wanted to hide it, slightly shaking. Then he proceeded to burst into laughter, hitting the ground with his fist, without saying a thing.

Byleth frowned. What a weird guy.

Bowlcut boy frowned too, but apparently he decided to let the matter drop, as he looked at Byleth again. “My dad is stronger! He has big muscles, and he’s the only one that can use a super uper big powerful spear!” Then he looked down at Tall-annoying guy, who was still on the floor. “Glenn! Tell her!”

The guy tried to stop laughing, but miserably failed. “So… sorry, Dimitri… you’ll have to… deal with her yourself… PUAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Byleth crossed her arms; then, she got an idea. “Let’s settle this with a fight. However wins, has the strongest dad!”

Bowlcut boy’s eyes widened. “N… no! I can’t! I’ll hurt you!”

Byleth was really annoyed now: how dared that little brat imply he could beat her?!

She lifted her sword, pointing at Bowlcut boy. “Prepare yourself!”

“Oh, fuck!” Tall-annoying guy stopped laughing and stood up between them. “Ok, party’s over. Let’s try to get along, shall we?”

Bowlcut boy sighed in relief. Byleth sticked her tongue out, looking at him. “Your dad’s just a… wussy!”

Byleth really liked the word ‘wussy’. The way it sounded was funny. She didn’t exactly know the meaning, but Jeralt’s mercenaries often used it when someone was arguing (usually when drinking that weird ‘grown-ups fruit juice’) with some other of the band, getting the latter very angry. And Byleth wanted to make Bowlcut boy angry.

And she succeded! Bowlcut boy’s eyes widened, and he proceeded to run towards her. Byleth was ready, and promptly dodged the boy. She grabbed his arm, and sinked her teeth in it.

The boy screamed in pain until Tall-annoying boy managed to pull him away. “Shit shit shit! What the hell is wrong with you two?!” he said in a high-pitched tone. Bowlcut boy started crying.

‘Pathetic’, Byleth thought.

“Okay, little girl, we’re leaving, but promise me you’ll stay away from Dimitri!” Tall-annoying guy said, while taking Bowlcut boy in his arms. “We’re leaving soon anyway, so forget about this and do not tell anyone!” he added, going inside the inn, without waiting for Byleth to respond. “Shit! I did tell Gustave I’m not a good babysitter…” she heard him muttering, while Bowlcut boy was still crying.

She looked at the now closed door for a few seconds more, then turned around. “Okay. Melee training for day: done. I should practice with my sword now…”

“You did what?!” Jeralt—Dad screamed in shock.

Byleth crossed her arms. “I bit him, I told you! He was saying some crap about you!”

Dad looked at her in disbelief, and then bursted into laughter.

‘Why is everyone laughing at me today?!’

“You… you bit him… you bit the… freaking… AHAHAHAHAHA!” Dad was laughing so hard he didn’t finish the phrase.

Byleth shrugged, deciding to let him be. ‘It’s not like I’m gonna ever see Bowlcut boy again…’

15 years later

Byleth didn’t know if she was getting better at reading people, or if Jeralt was acting strange more than usual. Since she told him she chose to lead the Blue Lion House, her father started to make a soft giggle everytime she mentioned the house-leader, Dimitri. It was getting annoying.

“Are you going to tell me why do you make that sound everytime I mention Dimitri, dad?!” she finally said one afternoon, while her and Jeralt were having tea in her room.

Jeralt smiled. “Ah! Never. But maybe, you’ll have your answer if you’ll ever see his arm… Summer is starting, after all…”

[dpsisquared]

Did everyone see the beautiful art I commissioned from @melisketch ?? Depicts a sad scene from my fic No One Writes to the King 💙💚 (mind the tags!)

[itsmoonpeaches]

Title: All the King's Horses

Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial, a short fanfic written for Fire Emblem: Three Houses.

Fandom: Fire Emblem: Three Houses

Word count: 1,000

Rating: G

Summary: Years after the fall of the Blaiddyd line, Fódlan lives on.

Also available on ao3.

There was a sword and a lance in the forest of forgotten dreams, their blades encased in magical stone. They were trapped there for all eternity it would seem, doomed to see the light of eras fade away like supernovas sparking out of existence in the night sky.

Who placed them there and magicked the stones so that none but someone worthy could wield them, no one knew. The knowledge was lost to time and tale, a distant memory once clear and now long gone.

The weapons had magnificent, strange names which were passed down. Their meanings were now lost to them. The Sword of the Creator was one and the other the Areadbhar lance.

That was the story the villagers told, the ones that lived around the mouth of the forest.

“If you go further, dear child,” an old woman named Renee would say to her grandchild, “you can walk along the light-speckled path. The roots grow in twists and odd knots that straddle the sides of the well-trodden earth as if beckoning to you and clearing the way. You can feel the difference in the air. I have felt it too.”

“But grandmother,” her grandchild would reply. Renee would pat down her blond locks and nod approvingly as she gazed into her azure eyes.

“No buts. Simply listen to me.”

“Is it white magic?”

“Oh, dear child,” cooed Renee, “We can only speculate. My mother used to say that generations ago we once had strong magic in our family, but that time is no more. Perhaps you should speak to the healer down the road. I am sure Betryse will be most helpful to you in finding your answers.”

And so, the little girl decided to go see Betryse. She was a young, curious girl with a bright personality and a benevolent heart. She had been told that one day perhaps that would get her far in life.

She knocked softly upon the door to the healer’s home.

“Miss Betryse?” she spoke through the woodgrain.

The door swung open to reveal a startling woman. Her eyes and hair were a brilliant, ethereal green. Not quite like an emerald and not quite like the green of a tree’s leaves. Jade perhaps, or some other precious stone. There was a glow behind the color that the girl could not name, a mysterious one. But Miss Betryse had always been like that.

She was welcomed in with a slight smile. Miss Betryse was not one to express much emotion, but the whole village knew her to be rather kind.

When the girl explained her thoughts and curiosity, the conversation began as if a question about white magic in an otherworldly forest was natural indeed.

Miss Betryse set a tray on the table between them, biscuits and honeyed cookies balancing upon it. She poured them cups of freshly brewed chamomile tea. The steam still coiled above the porcelain in neat curlicues as they sipped.

“Of course, it’s white magic,” said Miss Betryse. “Black magic does not seal in this manner and dark magic would not dare.”

“But why?” asked the girl. She leaned forward and took a biscuit.

Miss Betryse glanced behind her at a peculiar painting above the fireplace. It looked impossibly old and cracked like it should not have been around still. Like something held the pieces together by an invisible thread.

On it was the visage of a powerful-looking man whose blond hair was tied into a ponytail and a black eyepatch covering one of his eyes. A fur cloak rested on his shoulders, draped around a gambeson of midnight blue. He had striking eyes that reminded the girl of her own and a crown of gold atop his head. Beside him stood a woman whose face was obscured by the curtain that hung from the frame. She could tell she held herself with grace just from the strokes the painter had depicted her with. Her white gown flowed, and her silver wedding band seemed to glint even without the help of a real sun. Her hand rested upon the man’s.

“Once in this land of Fódlan we had a king who united us all after a war,” said Miss Betryse. “He and his queen had a long and prosperous reign that led to peace for hundreds of years.”

“What happened to them?”

Miss Betryse sighed and put down her cup of tea. “All kingdoms eventually fall,” she replied. “The people forgot the king’s legacy and his descendants too did not know the meaning of peace. So, in an act of desperation, the mages of Old Fhirdiad sealed away the king and queen’s legendary weapons in hopes that—when the time comes—the people will remember again.”

The girl sat straight in her seat, her lip trembling. “Will we?”

Miss Betryse smiled. “The fact that you ask this question tells me all that I need to know,” she said. She tapped her chin. “It seems that your grandmother, Renee Blaiddyd, still remembers your family’s past.”

The girl blinked. She was unsure what that meant.

“One day you will see,” continued Miss Betryse. “Our world is a cycle and one day they will be needed again. All the king’s horses will appear on the crest of a hill, and all the king’s men will come.”

Years passed and the girl grew up. She told the story to her children and her children told it to theirs.

The healer watched from her home as her neighbors changed. She did not speak to many of them for a long while, preferring to stick to the sidelines.

Then, in the north where the Sreng Empire inched closer to their borders, war brewed.

She walked through the forest and grasped at the hilt of the Sword of the Creator. Across from her, a man she found familiar held onto Areadbhar’s shaft.

“Beloved,” said the man. “It has been too long.”

The blades slid free from the stone. The eyes of the forest saw all.

[red1sart]

wow guys so glad merric finally got a new alt on the khadein banner hahaha… right

bonus

[usaigi]

Planning on writing my own dimitri x byleth story but don't have any ideas. got any?

If you play FE Heroes, maybe something inspired by the Heroes Journey mod??

Dimileth making a snowman or Dimileth find an egg :3c Them going to the beach and Dima getting super sunburnt and Bylie needing to rub aloe on his back

[kplays]

And here comes incentive

Alright. Let's go

[pitty-aegis-parlor]

I think once you get involved with the multiverse, you learn to expect the unexpected, Mercedes.

Perhaps, but it’s still very worrying to think about…

Well, you aren’t alone on this Mercedes. You have me and the rest of the Blue Lions to support you.

Haha, that is true Byleth. Thank you.

THATS DEDERIGHT!

Like right now? What is your name… strange….. bird?

I’m da king of Dreamland, King Dedede! You must be that Mercedes fella, correct?

Oh yes, I am. And I see Kirby’s looking a little different today, being blue and wearing that mask and all. It’s a nice costume.

*Both Byleth and Dedede quietly snicker, as “Kirby” stares at Mercedes with indifferent stoicism*

My name is Meta Knight.

Oh dear, my apologies.

[fellstcr]

⚔️ //  “.....a  winter  wedding...?”

         “truly  ,  we  live  in  an  age  of  anarchy.”

[megacharlie2003]

Tfw when you're THAT late to Valentines Day.

This drawing's sketch was done on the 14th of February but then I got really sick, then I had some family business to attend and then homework.

[momochanners]

King Khalid vs Queen Byleth Eisner. Whoever wins...so do we all...?

It's summer time in Fodlan, babey!

High resolution & textless versions, lineart, wallpaper and process video is available for patrons over here