#dimitri tbt.

[braveryhearted]

"Ggood.....gggi...." No, he can't do it. "Beloved".

[covertenforcer]

—— the twins ft. @vanyashay

[penguuthegentoo]

Tbt when i got to the timeskip in fe3h and all I could think about was my boy Dimitri

[albeinn]

white heron cup.

style. 7

choreography. 6

technique. 6

They are called to the dance floor soon enough; the first round of competitors moving onto the next. Alm and Celica had been lucky enough to be allocated to the second round, affording them more time to practice— time, that was very much needed on their ends. And although by no means had either of their skills faced the dulling of time (and one could argue that alm’s proficiency with footwork in the setting of a ballroom dance had only improved) they had, after all, not seen each other for much too long a time. There were bound to be changes that would hinder them— even in dancing— if all but their inherent understanding of the other would allow.

One such change is how (and Alm had never really noticed, himself) how much taller he is than Celica. And it certainly hadn’t been that way before— they were much closer in height, as he recalls, after the war. But that had been two years ago, after all. It only serves to remind him of how much has changed between; and how long he has been separated from his beloved. Nevertheless, he pays it no heed; Alm takes Celica’s hand and leads her to the dance floor.

A cordial bow, a hand pressed to his heart. “My fair lady,” a slow grin spreads across his lips; a playful wink. “Will you allow me this dance?”

A firm hand placed on her waist, another hand in hers; just as they had practised. The music begins, a slow beginning— before the other parts of the ensemble pick up the pace. It feels odd, almost, just how used to dancing he was now. Even if he still felt a little stiff around the edges, even if the very activity made him feel restless in nearly all sense of the word— with Celica as a partner, it wasn’t half as bad. No smiles kept up just for the sake of pleasing a guest; just admiring her, the look in her eyes (and how she looks at him, when they dance), and that alone brings a smile wide enough to invoke a soreness in his cheeks that will last the rest of the evening.

They have decent flair, even if their choreography and technique fell a little above average. Certainly, Rigelian and Zofian dances differed quite greatly. Where Celica would turn he would feel the need to alter course, as if a sudden improvisation had occured, despite the fact that this was what they had discussed. Briefly, at least. It was hard to unlearn something drilled so deeply into you. To accomodate, they had made the choreography fairly easy for the both of them to follow— and while they definitely had style, their technique could surely use more polishing.

But that didn’t quite matter. As long as they were enjoying themselves— and Mila knows they needed it. To be there with one another. Alm carefully dips Celica as an end to their dance, and as he helps her up, an arm comes to wrap around her waist. He inhales, breathing deep. Verdant eyes close for a moment, before opening up to the judges’ scores.

7. 6. 6.

A sigh, a hum of contentment. Alm leans his head against Celica’s. “We did well, huh? Honestly, I didn’t know you could dance like that. It feels like you surprise me every other day.”

@seraphiia v. @radiantpriamos & @elegiac-boar !

[asphuxia]

[4HP] Although his injuries were far from fully healed, Dimitri made his way back the battlefield, eyes searching for any lone opponents. His eyes then settled on a familiar figure- one that he in all honesty, didn't want to fight. But a mock battle this was, and as House Leader the prince had no choice but to fight on. With a solid grip on his lance, Dimitri lunged towards Eir- "I am sorry," he mumbled as he swung the weapon swiftly. [ Roll: 14, Potential Dmg= -1.0HP]

the headache had subsided— or had, at least, been reduced to a state in which eir could not differentiate it between the constant hum of her thoughts, or the loudness of her surroundings. she had seen to it that l’arachel find herself tended to in the medical tent, but disregarded her own self nearly entirely, if not for a cleric who had been rather insistent on relieving some of her pain. with that, she had returned to the battlefield, and to accompany her search of an opposing house member is the quiet wondering of when this battle might finally end.

but eir feels as though that time was not as far as she inferred it would be, for she finds her next (and hopefully, last) opponent— almost as soon as he had found her. a house leader; one she is familiar with, at that: prince dimitri of the blue lions. their gazes meet, and she can tell both parties aren’t quite willing to engage with the other in combat, either. but dimitri gathers his resolve, advancing, as she does, and the battle is as good as started.

the utterance of an apology falls from his lips, and the lance comes down upon her in one fluid motion; it tears through alabaster skin almost as easily as it cuts through air. eir winces— the sight of pain, barely, upon her face— but does not recoil. of all the blood she has watched spill from her body, this was hardly something to blink at; the red trails from the end of her collarbone, staining ivory cloth.

eir’s hp: 2/3.

“... as am i, prince dimitri,” eir replies, in a quiet, patient tone of voice that barely held its ground against the field winds. and she lunges forward— urgent as a knife, urgent as the reluctance of her blade, in the noon light— and aims for his chest.

... somewhere, in the back of her mind, is the hope that lyfjaberg strikes without pain.

eir rolls a 20 + 2 (dex boon)! critical hit. potential damage = -2hp.

[ilovetheaffection]

Send “I think I wanna marry you” 

@abrushwithdeath​

He looked over at his girlfriend for a long moment. Not that they hadn’t ever discussed what they would do when things settled. They had discussed it before. But it seemed funny that she would bring it up now. Things were nowhere near settled.

 He would say it was more chaotic than ever. Even Julie and Scott weren’t talking like this right now and they had been an official couple longer than he and Rogue had been. “What’s brought this on? I thought we were going to talk about things when everything was over?”

Not that he knew when things would be over, really. It was easier said than done when so many people were trying to kill both of them. More her than him, admittedly. Not to mention he had a healing factor that was maybe better than Logan’s in a lot of ways.

[archegisheart]

✧ dedue

@dystcpiia | send ✧ & i’ll bold / italicise all that apply / accepting - mobile.

I would kill you. ✧ I would physically hurt you. ✧ I would attack you unprovoked. ✧ I would manipulate you. ✧ I dislike you. ✧ You annoy me. ✧ You scare me. ✧ You intimidate me. ✧ I hope I intimidate you. ✧ I pity you. ✧ You disgust me. ✧ I hate you. ✧ I’m indifferent toward you. ✧ I’d like to get to know you better. ✧   I’d like to spend more time with you. ✧ I’d like to be friends with you. ✧  I’m unsure what to think of you. ✧ I’m unsure how I feel about you. ✧ You are my friend. ✧ You are my best friend. ✧ You are my mentor. ✧ I look up to you. ✧ I respect you. ✧ You are my hero. ✧ You inspire me. ✧ You are my enemy. ✧ You make me happy. ✧ I want to protect you. ✧ I would fight by your side. ✧ I consider you an equal. ✧ I think you are beneath me. ✧ I think you are above me. ✧ I would lie for you. ✧ I would lie to you. ✧ I would sleep with you. ✧ I would sleep by your side. ✧ I would hug you. ✧ I would kiss you. ✧ You are family to me. ✧ I would die for you. ✧ I would kill for you. ✧ I would trust you with my life. ✧ I would trust you with my most precious belonging. ✧ I would trust you with a secret. ✧ I would trust you with my biggest / darkest secret. ✧ I love you (platonically). ✧ I love you (romantically).

[yaziciyasemin]

@funtonights​ / based on

arguing for something neither of them had a choice in happening seems ridiculous, but he still owes her an explanation, that much he knows. and yet he has none, nothing but the line that he kept repeating his entire life 'my dad made me do it'. "i'm trying to fix things" he tries, weakly but surely. "i want to get to know them.” “please?"

[ofpherae]

if you play sona mid, i'll play annie jungle again ! :)

❛     an excellent proposal,     dimitri   !     with these ‘gamerlicious strats,’     as claude suggested i call them,     we’ll surely make it to platinum tier in no time   !     ❜       ///       @blaimed

[ringrelic]

At first, he had doubts his senses—perhaps Dimitri’s presence was induced by a trick of the light, or something alike to that effect. That line of thought no sooner vanishes however, as the tempest king still stands in plain view, even after minutes pass. With his mouth now slightly gaping, Yuri silently gives thanks to his fortunes for having spotted him during such a time as this. Since Dimitri still hadn’t noticed his own presence, he quickly takes initiative by gesturing towards him, and calling out all the while. “Well, what do you know... our esteemed ���lion king’ has graced me with his presence.” At this point, he hadn’t bothered concealing the grin upturning his lips. He wasn’t on his mind prior to their meeting of course, but now that he was here, Yuri would admit that he was the perfect candidate to assist him with this very important task. 

“Now I may be overstepping here, seeing as how you are royalty and all... but would you mind doing me a favour?”

exaliant / dimitri

[gamblealifearchived1]

dragcnsden submitted:

“Stupid Danger Mouse…” Dimitrie bitterly mumbles as he walks along the darkened Transylvania streets, doors and windows immediately locking when the vampire approaches. Which only further sours his mood. “With that stupid face and stupid voice and- and stupid sparkly eyes and cute smile and soft fur and… a-and…” Eyes closed and fists clenched tightly at his sides, he trembles with a mixture of frustration and despair, harshly kicking a rock into a nearby alleyway as he yells, “-AND STUPID OPINIONS!"

But you’re NOT monsters. At least, Alistair’s not.

The sound of skittering in the shadows causes Dimitrie to abruptly face the alley. Feathers ruffled apprehensively but too upset to hold his tongue, he calls out, "Wh-Who’s there?” Bitter tears brimming in his eyes and voice shaking pitifully, like his small form, he swallows a lump in his throat and challengingly yells, “You better stay hidden if you know wh-what’s good for you!" Dimitrie, you are NOT intimidating in the slightest right now.

@ducktales-wco-oo​

      Going through this city's treasures was SO easy, it was almost sad. It probably also helped that for some odd reason, everyone had gone inside & locked their doors & windows. Yeah, that wasn't suspicious at all. No matter, Stefan had what he gone there for, safely tucking away some emeralds & coins within his jumpsuit. He only pauses at the sound of a bitter voice. Brows furrow the minute they hear the name 'Danger Mouse' & a low growl threatens to escape from the back of his throat. He forces it back down, though, opting to hide within the shadows for the time being.  

Tyrian colored hues watch with interest as he spies an unusual looking duck to be the source of the mumbling. He didn't even notice their appearance at first, it was the way they were talking that got his attention. Oh, joy. Another life ruined by ── ugh, Danger Mouse. Barely able to hold back the gag at the thought of the guy, being stiffens when they ask who's there. Were they ... were they really crying over him? 

            As if Danger Mouse was even WORTH any tears. 

Still, though, he can't help himself, especially to make himself known. "& What happens if I don't ? " Nose scrunches up as he finally steps out of the shadows, a hand cockily placed upon his hip. "Are you gonna call your precious boyfriend ? Go ahead, I'd love to fight & beat him again." Honestly, he doesn't even know much about the duck before him, nor does he know his affiliation WITH Danger Mouse. 

                                            Welp, it was out there, now.

[indulges-not-using]

                            @blaimed said:                ❝ it’s heavenly. ❞                            prompt.   accepting.

❛❛       𝑑𝑜  𝑦𝑜𝑢  𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛  𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑡  ?     oh,    i’m  so  glad  !        ❜❜      an  artisan  of  specificity,     peculiarity,     finds  herself  oddly  relieved——      comfortable  even,     the  smallest  of  smiles  on  her  face.     but  now  that  she  lingers  upon  this  thought,    ‘odd’  simply  didn’t  exist  between  the  spaces  of  them.    it  brings  a  selfish  unease  to  marianne’s  collarbone,     sharpening  each  breath  she  took.     i  am  dangerous,    i  am  unlucky.    even  so,    what  would  be  more  miserly ?     to  ignore  her  crest’s  path  wrought  in  blood  or  to  ignore  the  saviour  king’s  undeserved  warmth ?    both  paths  feel  foreign,     both  scare  her  into  a  hush.     not  another  word  comes  from  her  as  she  absentmindedly  rolls  a  piece  of  meat  over  with  her  fork,     lingering  on  the  overlooked  speck  of  flour  still  on  her  wrist  from  that  day’s  breadmaking.

❛❛      i  would  have  made  a  batch  of  lemon  tarts  for  dessert,     but  i  couldn’t  pick  enough  lemons  in  time.      though,     i’ll  be  sure  to  deliver  some  to  your  quarters  tomorrow  afternoon,     i  think  they’d  pair  wonderfully   with  pot  of  darjeeling.       ❜❜       when  marianne  does  finally  speak,     she  cannot  still  her  tongue;     (    not  odd,     the  new  norm     )     she  raises  the  fork  to  her  lips,     using  their  shared  supper  as  a  means  to  silence  herself.    her  chewing  is deliberate,     quaint,    all  designed  with  a  jeweler’s  keen  gaze;     ingrained  within  her  was  the  idea  that  the  more  invisible  she  could  make  herself  be,     the  better .  .  .       she’s  not  so  sure  of  that  now.     if  she  were  to  return  to  the  shadows,     flattening  herself  against  the  walls  in  a  desperate  attempt  to  be  unseen,     how  would  she  be  able  to  sit  next  to  dimitri ?     they  made  a  promise,     haven’t  they ?  

(   it  is  for  this  very  promise  that  she  smiles  again,     &   this  time,    it  stays    )

❛❛        i  know  how  busy  you  must  be,     but  the  fact  you  somehow  found  the  time  for  me——       it  means more  than  i  can  put  into  words,      thank  you,    dimitri.       ❜❜

[asphuxia]

continued from here | @elegiac-boar

eir’s hp: 1.5/3

dimitri lurches, leaning forward and into the ground; eir watches as his knees sink into the earth, red soiled. his hands shake around his lance— she can tell there is something wrong here, a problem she cannot see. his expression alone is enough for eir to understand that this was yet another matter of the living— one, in particular, haunted by those of the dead. but she cannot feel any souls that surround them; it is only her and the prince, in both realms as they intersect.

another apology, choked out. even as the prince truly pushes his effort into getting himself up and on his feet once more, there is little eagerness to do so on his end. she couldn’t tell of his hesitance, nor the haunted look within his eyes that seemed to tell more than enough stories. it is not a soul that has festered itself into their surroundings, no; they are remnants— wraiths of his own, that have formed within his mind.

eir, too, can see ghosts. even those that do not exist— she knows. for the silhouette made of white that looks back into her every reflection is only the memory of death itself.

there is pity, to be felt. some weakened sense of kinship. but there are no words left within her lips that can help dimitri to his feet, eir realises; and her blade rises. there is nothing she can offer beyond her patience and her encouragement, in whatever forms it should take.

so lyfjaberg acts as a prod, a hand carved of light— one eir can only hope cuts the prince a path back to the reality that awaits him, shadows dispelled. it flies through the air and towards him with a whistle, aiming past his shoulder.

roll 6 + 2 (dex boon)! barely hit. potential damage = -0.5hp.

[goldguile-a]

me, thinking about how before dimitri snaps out of his feral state claude is consistently overtired and overworked because control of both territories' armies and the knights of seiros is pretty much falling to him now since there's only so much byleth, seteth, gilbert, rodrigue, and judith can do to help him out (and the knights are also occupied searching for rhea on top of all that) and dimitri's refusing to actually keep up with his responsibilities--

and he refuses to let dimitri get away with his shit while feral either, which leads to arguments with him, which... really suck???

and on top of that he's constantly in contact with the alliance lords to keep them up to date with the situation and has to run home every so often for round table conferences and...

someone please give this man a break :')))

[ilovetheaffection]

Why am I in my own way? Why do I pull you close? And then ask you for space