#fire emblem three houses hc

[coucou-art]

had to get thoughts and snapshots out of my system sorry for the mess and inconsistency in effort

he finally lays eyes on failnaught for the first time right after Oswald dies (in my hc he passed away suddenly after a heart attack while claude was away on a mission) and when he’s alone he pays his respects to his grandfather the almyran way instead of how it‘s done in leicester/seiros‘ teachings and I think claude may have heard faint whispers coming from the relic at the first touch

[greymouse42]

"The sun is older now, warmer, and Cichol is older too, but colder."

I wrote a piece about Sothis and Cichol and childhood and faith for last year's Seteth zine! (And I did my own spot art — that's what this is!) At the time, it was the first zine I'd ever participated in, and even if production got complicated, I'm still really happy with the work and it was a lot of fun to work on submissions with friends. 💚💚

I'll drop the link to my fic in the notes. 💚

[silent-shanin]

[koroart]

Shez participating in Faerghus customs!! And celebrations!!

[writer-of-worlds]

Byleth: Edelgard and I are adopting.

Bernadetta: O-oh! Congrat--

Byleth, slamming down adoption papers in front of Bernadetta: It's you. Sign here.

[frickingnerd]

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

pairing: dimitri alexandre blaiddyd x gn!reader

tags: hurt/comfort, angst but also fluff, established romantic relationship, alliance with claude & edelgard, supportive boyfriend

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! 

[couldtransitionsaveher]

JERITZA VON HYRM from FIRE EMBLEM: THREE HOUSES

JUSTIFICATION:

"has a deadname, traditionally feminine chosen name, immaculate hair care, killed a guy because of his misogyny, and he only has supports with women or the male version of the mc, who has supports with everyone" - Anonymous

Reminder: Submissions are always open! Submit here!

Did you make your daily click today?

[xander-wolk]

Well loved Garfield 🧡

[sothisblessmysoul]

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.

[iaminjail]

glancing at the villainsexual ferdinand von aegir tag on ao3

[xxwitchywhisperxx]

Saw this hopes screenshot about Rodrigue's selfcare/maintenance and how he cleans up if there’s an occasion… Rodrigue attending a ball…

[fuwahua]

Chase

Tktober Day 2 - Chase

Tags: Sylvain / Felix from FE3H , Seemingly unrequited love, crush, white clouds period, sylvain exploding (affectionate)

Sylvix per request ヽ(o＾▽＾o)ノ Back to the academy!!

“Felix says you’re avoiding him.”

“Me? Avoiding him? Well well, how the turn tables!”

Dimitri stares at him, brows knitted partly in concern for Sylvain’s mental state and partly because no doubt Felix was somewhere in the vicinity, probably prowling the garden in anticipation of Sylvain admitting that he was avoiding the other. Which he wouldn’t admit, by the way. Because he had nothing to admit! He wasn’t avoiding the other!!

…. Not for the most part, anyway.

“To be honest, I’m not entirely sure you’re avoiding him either. Professor sat you both down to eat twice this week already,” Dimitri says, and Sylvain bites back a laugh at the petulant tone he takes on at the mention of Byleth. “You were clearly captivated by her but it’s certainly not out of place from you.”

“Hey, what’s wrong with dinner and a show? Besides, I see how you look at her. Can’t blame me for trying!”

Dimitri flushes. “I-I would never!”

“Listen, between you and me, I heard they’re getting a shipment of her favorite teas in. I could tell you which ones to pick out if you want.” Dimitri’s eyes widen, zoning into his every word, and Sylvain grins as he spins an at least partly true story of Byleth’s preferences.

Felix doesn’t come up for the rest of their conversation.

-

“Felix says you’re avoiding him.”

“Me? Why, I’d never!”

Ingrid scowls at him, lips jutting out the way she’d never grown out of since childhood. Sylvain chuckles, crossing his arms languidly behind his head. “How could I avoid him? We only take class together every single day.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Ingrid says. “I saw you both eating with Professor Byleth in the cafeteria last week. You were speaking with her the entire time, even though Felix was right besides you. Isn’t that a form of avoidance?”

“What? Did that happen?” Sylvain coughs, scratching his head. “He probably just wasn’t saying much. Can’t blame a guy for talking to someone who actually replies. And, hey, don’t you spend the entire mealtime scarfing down your food instead of conversing with your partner?”

“That’s—it’s not related!”

“I dunno,” he whistles. “That’s not what Dorothea said last time~”

“Dorothea? What did Dorothea say? Sylvain? Sylvain!”

-

“You’re on weed duty with Felix this week.”

“Wha—professor, really?”

Sylvain groans, cupping his face in his hands. It’s not unusual for Byleth to assign them odd and ends chores every week, sometimes keeping them the same no matter the weather (Ingrid practically lives in the stables with Marianne, through heat wave and snow. He really should drop by with snacks one day). But weed pulling? The thing Dimitri used to get assigned to before she caught him putting it in his mouth??

“I’m not fit for weed pulling, it doesn’t fit my,” he hesitates, mind whirring. “Skillset. I’d be a better help with the horses, you know. Why not swap me and Ingrid for once?”

Byleth gives him a slow blink. Her eyes look dead inside, but they kind of always looked like that. “Felix says you’re avoiding him.”

He groans a second time. Of course. “He told you that?”

“No.”

“No?”

“I heard it from Claude.” Claude? Entirely different house Claude? Byleth nods. “Who heard it from Hilda, who heard it from Marianne, who heard it from Ingrid, who heard it from Dedue, who heard it from Dimitri, who heard it from—”

“Felix,” Sylvain manages. He doesn’t groan a third time, though it is a near thing. “Felix told him.”

“Yes.” Byleth tips her head, staring at him. Or into his soul. Whichever. “If you already knew that, why haven’t you spoken to him yet?”

Sylvain doesn’t answer, eyes darting away. He knows that red will show on his cheeks regardless, yet dense as Felix is, Byleth is denser, and neither of them would even begin to comprehend what it could possibly mean when the childhood friend who flirts with you an entire lifetime suddenly starts stuttering through conversations like a fool half the time and avoiding you the rest. A mystery! Truly, an unsolvable, closed room case!!

“You could put a question in the advice box if you’d rather ask anonymously.”

“Professor, you write all our names on your answers. That’s not anonymous.”

“It’s more effective that way. Students work better when their advice is direct.” She smiles, raising a hand before she turns. “I’ll see you and Felix at the garden on Sunday.”

Her coat covers absolutely everything as she walks away. He stares at her figure regardless, cupping a hand over his mouth.

Fuck.

-

Felix is there at the crack of dawn, already hunched over the weeds and pulling them with the force of eighteen years of repressed rage. It’s almost impressive how efficiently he works through the grass as a noble: sure, he tears a little more grass than weed sometimes, but the green staining his gloves and the half-full buckle is proof of his hard work. The grass crunches beneath Sylvain’s feet as he enters.

Felix looks up and Sylvain bites down on the urge to flee.

“Good morning,” he says instead. Felix stares at him a moment longer, gaze lingering.

Beautiful. Wispy strands of hair stick to Felix’s cheek where sweat has begun to bead after a morning of hard work, cheeks pink with exertion and making clear the elegant edges of high cheekbones. He looks like a model, not a man hunched over a schoolyard, but fuck if those cat eyes drinking him in aren’t some of the prettiest he’s ever seen. Maybe the prettiest. At least top five. Top three?

“Good morning.” He doesn’t stare at Felix’s lips. He doesn’t. he doesn’t, he doesn’t. Maybe if he chants it enough times, the smudge of pink across those lips will fade from his memory.

It doesn’t.

Sylvain manages a smile, opening his mouth as Felix turns back to the garden, hands already returning to work. Well! That’s fine, then. Better than running his mouth and embarrassing himself even more than he’d already had for the week.

Weed pulling is, despite his complaints, not the worst chore to be assigned at Garreg Mach. It’s almost calming, a mindless chore of pulling and pulling, and he’s sure that on any other day, any other occasion, he’d be thankful for the still, calm quiet of an early Sunday. Hell, he’d probably still enjoy it today if Byleth was here! Or literally anyone else!

He pulls a little too hard on a weed and dirt goes flying, spraying his neatly pressed pants with it. Sylvain exhales and bites his lip rather than complaining the way he would if he were alone; Felix shifts besides him, eyes still down on the garden, but the angle is perfect, the shine of his hair is inviting, glossy, and Sylvain just wants to—

His hand stretches outwards just as Felix turns. And instead of navy strands of hair meeting his fingers, Sylvain finds his palm cupping Felix’s cheek instead.

His pink cheek. His warm cheek. Warm with exercise, warm with blood pumping through his body to keep him alive, warm with, maybe, the realization that they’re alone together at a time when no one else is awake.

Oh, goddess. He can’t do this.

“I-I need to go.”

Grass rustles as he jolts to his feet, unsteady, fight or flight screaming in his mind. Sylvain barely manages a backstep before Felix is up with him, bucket of collected weeds banging as it spills his morning’s hardship all over the floor. He gapes at him, eyes widening, as golden eyes fixate on him. Felix’s hands clench. Unclench. His pulse rises. Sylvain swallows.

He runs.

Felix runs right after him.

His scream is very dignified. “What are you doing? You have weeds to pick!”

“What are you doing!” Felix yells back. Their footsteps echo through the empty halls, louder than they have any right to be, and a painting of the goddess looks disapprovingly upon them when Sylvain nearly bangs his shoulder on a sharp turn. There’s a clang of metal behind him, closer than it has any right to be, and he shouts when a left turn sends him stumbling into the nearby wall. His head rings, dazed, before it’s slammed forward a second time when Felix’s body barrels right behind him and sending them sprawling on the floor.

Felix, on him. Sylvain sweats, already trying to turn back, but Felix’s hands grab his wrists and press down. “Wait—wait!”

“What’s with you?” Felix snarls. Sylvain gasps as his wrists are wrenched downwards, Felix’s weight on his back sending every alarm in his head screaming. He’s warm, goddess, fuck, he’s so warm. “Are you insane? Running through the Academy like a criminal?”

“M-maybe I like to be chased!” He sputters. His cheeks are burning. There’s nothing around him but the ground and Felix, and fuck, Felix is all he can think about.

“As if,” Felix says, scathing. “Tell that to the women who want you to leave them alone. Why is it that when they want to see you, you’re always gone?”

“That’s, you know, the thrill of the chase!” Sylvain gasps as Felix pins his hands down with his knees instead, flat palms encircling his waist; the whine that startles out of him is shameless. “Wahahaait, hold on, that ticklehehes!”

Felix blinks and then those fingers move now, spidering, and Sylvain shrieks. “Good.”

He says something between “No!” or “Felix, listen!” he thinks, maybe, but any and all coherent thoughts racing in his mind are drowned out by the urge to throw his head back in giggles as Felix’s hands dig roughly into the curve of his hips. He does exactly that, eyes squeezing shut yet unable to block out the electric currents running beneath his skin.

Sylvain’s fist hits the hard floor before he tries rolling out from under Felix’s grasp, squeaking and curling up when doing so just lets rough fingers slide between the uniform shirt. It feels impossible for his face to grow hotter but it does, burning, every sensation amplified by his yearning embarrassment. “Fehehehlix! Stahahahp!”

“Why should I?”

What does he say? What can he say? That the touch is already too much, that he might be going insane if this continues, that it doesn’t really matter if Felix’s hands are above the belt when his minds been flip-flopping about them in this exact position the past two weeks?

“I—cohohome on! I cahaHAHAN’T think likehehe this!”

Felix doesn’t offer him a verbal response, opting instead to pry his shirt higher and claw at the exposed skin. If the very thought of it is overwhelming, then the actual thing might well destroy the fragile thread of sanity still left in his head; Sylvain thrashes, attempting to rise to his elbows, to kick out his legs, but all his struggling does is have his shirt fall more open, a wide expanse of weakness open for the taking. Felix does, hands crawling upwards, rough, harsh, tracing every clenched muscle and earning choked out pleas and the very scrambled mess Sylvain’s brain is melting into.

“Plehehahahase!”

 “Stop moving.” Felix hisses in his ear, which absolutely does not help.

“HAHAHAHOW?!”

There’s a snort, genuinely amused, and Sylvain’s certain he’s red from the tops of his ears down to his shoulders at the noise. “Figure it out yourself.”

Goddess, have mercy.

The echo of his begging in the hall is horribly embarrassing, but worse than that is the shrieky hiccupping bouts of laughter he takes on when Felix’s hands make their way beneath his arms. He hasn’t been tickled in years, not since they were kids, but he’d always, always had the height advantage back then against Felix; no one besides Glenn knew how badly it tickled there, and he honestly thought he might’ve been able to take that information with him to the grave if not for the way Felix focused on his armpits now, relentless, and Sylvain shakes with renewed desperation as tears begin to bead in his eyes.

“FEHEHEHELIX! I’M GONNAHAHAA DIEHEHEHEHE!”

“Huh. You’re actually really ticklish.”

No shit. Felix shifts on him and Sylvain swallows as he’s reminded yet again of their position, of Felix right on him, thighs clamped around his hips. It’s too easy for his mind to spin back, a swaying pendulum vying to either melt into the floor to escape the tickling or lay there if it meant Felix would continue to touch him.

Touching him. Right. It’s Felix’s hands on him. Felix’s hands that are digging in all over him.

He’s going to explode.

“Oh, good morning.”

“Wha—Professor!”

Sylvain wheezes as he’s shoved away, hastily taking the opportunity to curl up and hide his crimson face as Byleth and Felix’s voices wash over him. What time must it be, for Byleth to be coming down this route? No doubt half the student population woke up to his screeching laughter—at least his reputation was bad enough he could get away with it. Sylvain rubs at his face, teeth clicking in embarrassment at the ticklish tears that have begun to fall, only to flinch at a poke to his side. “H-hey!”

“Pay attention.” Felix’s usual scowl has slid neatly back in place as he jabs Sylvain’s side again. His eyes flicker up to Sylvain, widening for a moment at the no doubt mess of his red, wet cheeks, before darting away again.

He isn’t the only one to notice. “Sylvain, are you crying?”

He shakes his head at Byleth’s question. “I’m fine, professor. Just, uh, got my ass handed to me.”

She quirks a brow. “Pretty early for an ass beating.”

He laughs at that, startled; his amused gaze flickers to Felix before his laugh takes on a flustered element when Felix meets his gaze openly, golden eyes searching his. “I—er, yeah? Right, Felix?”

Felix coughs, gaze dropping first. “It was deserved.”

“Hm. Well, I’m glad you’ve talked it out. Or beat it out,” Byleth pauses. “But I’m just here to check on the chores.”

The chores? Oh, the chores.

“Did you finish cleaning the weeds?”

“Ahaha…. About that… it’s a long story…?”

“Seteth should be at the lawn right now,” she hums, tapping her chin before amusement sparkles in her eyes. Sylvain swallows. “Knowing him… I’ll see you both after class for detention today?”

Both. Him and Felix, probably alone, with professor. He turns to Felix, mouth agape, but the other turns away the moment their eyes meet. It’s enough, though, for Sylvain to see the pink of his ears, the twitching of his cheek, the way his hands cross over his chin.

The hands that were under his shirt just minutes ago.

Aw fuck.

“We’ll be there, professor.”

He really needs to learn how to melt into the floor.

[sleepy-bear-tm]

My pookie bear <3

[slotumn]

When it comes to Almyra, I headcanon that their political landscape/attitude is all about having a lot of room (and balls) to fuck around, as opposed to Fódlan being neurotic and inward-facing and closed off.

It's not that Almyra is necessarily morally "better" or whatever, but I like to think there's a certain confidence that comes from being a large superpower. Domestic unrest, infighting, turmoil— all of those are problems, of course, but they're also confident that at the end of all that, Almyra will still be standing, one way or another. In contrast to Fódlani nations thinking that if they lose control, if they don't get to have it their way specifically, everything will come tumbling down and it's basically going to be the end of the world.

And both of those attitudes get synthesized in an interesting way in Claude, who's like ok if this doesn't work out then it's not the end of the world as long as I'm alive. But also, if I fuck up then Leicester will tear itself apart and my career in Fódlan will be so fucking over, come on I ran away from home and changed my identity to do this please

Tl;dr gotta love a dude who is laid back and neurotic at the same time.

[koroart]

You ever think about what would happen if your Lambert meet Canon Dimitri in Azure moon, seeing what happens during the post time skip?

You have no idea of the beast you just unleashed, my friend.

I though about this scenario SO MUCH -- Like, how it would happen idk, maybe some weird kinda magic that transported Lambert himself to an alternate timeline ( in this case the canon timeline ) and him meeting Dimitri just --- HHHH ( under read more because I'm insane for this )

He would instantly know that's his boy -- because what parent wouldn't recognize their own child? And he feels his heart hurting for him because, he can see how haunted his boy is, how the guilt he felt weights heavy on his mind.

And Dimitri, and it's either Feral!Dimitri or Post-Gronder Dimitri, take your pick - tired and thinking it's Lambert’s phantom, just pleading at him to leave him be. And when he realizes Lambert is more solid and isn't screaming at him for blood and vengeance, Dimitri will probably lash out just "NO, YOU'RE NOT REAL!!!" Maybe even actively tries to harm Lambert, calling him an imposter, maybe thinking he's an Imperial soldier trying to get the hit on him. Enraged and saying how DARE YOU IMPERSONATE MY FATHER!!

But Lambert would never dare raise a hand to his child, but he does stop Dimitri from attacking him, trying to help him calm down and realize that he is real, that he's here.

When Dimitri is calm enough, Lambert would just reach up and cup his face, tilting his head up so that he may look into his eyes, or eye in this case - eyes that once shined so brightly with hope and childlike wonder. Dimitri would look into Lambert’s, he does not see pity in those blue eyes so much like his own, he sees worry and love -- and for a moment, the cries in his head are silent as his rage subsides and the realization that his father is here sinks in.

Lambert would smooth back Dimitri's hair, like he used to when Dimitri was just a child, comforting and warm -- and say with such sadness and love in his deep voice--

" What has happened to you, my Sun and Stars?"

That's Dimitri's breaking point. The cry that escapes him is reminiscent of that of a wounded animal, and he all but falls into his father's arms. Suddenly he's a boy again, he's that 13 year old boy who watched his father die in front of him and there was nothing he could have done to save him. He's no longer the man who was out for revenge for the dead or the battle weary prince. He's just a boy again, a boy who missed his father.

The air is filled with Dimitri's anguished howls, and he's clinging to Lambert like his life depended on it. Lambert just holds him back, just as tightly, his own eyes filled with tears as he listened to his son's wailing. The goddess herself can not make him let go of his only and most precious son.

Dimitri probably cries for a long time, not that Lambert would mind, he'd hold him forever if he has to.

I think eventually they would talk, and Lambert, I feel, would speak some sense to Dimitri -- he doesn't want his son to tread down this path any further than he has to. He has no obligation to the dead -- because they're dead and that Dimitri needed to live for himself and their people. It's a realization that Lambert’s himself finally began to grasp too. Dimitri would give one of those soft and sobbing laughs, saying how Rodrigue had said the same thing before he died ( Lambert’s heart breaks at that news...he thinks of his Rodrigue back in his own timeline, who's alive and well and probably worried sick )

Lambert probably blames himself a lot for the mindset Dimitri had developed-- because he too believed that he was a tool for the Kingdom, that his life was not his own because of his position as King ( mentioned in Dimitri’s supports with Gilbert/Gustave! ) and he probably would apologize so much to Dimitri.

Apologizes for being that bad example and for leaving him behind in this timeline, at least.

Dimitri would probably say that he should have done more to save Lambert and everyone and Lambert is the one to get into his head -- " You were just a boy, Mitya -- what could you have done?" Dimitri probably cries some more because god knows he needs a good cry.

They probably talk for a long time, sitting down in the empty and broken cathedral and Dimitri is holding Lambert’s hand tightly, unable to even bear an inch away from his father-- he needs that reminder that he's real and here. How long he's not sure, but part of Dimitri prays that it's forever.

And idk, maybe Lambert helps out a bit in the war effort ( after everyone gets over the fact that the former King of Faerghus is HERE?? WHAT THE FUCK?? They're all just looking at Dimitri like??? And Dimitri is just i dont fucking know either but im not complaining ) Lambert has to return to his timeline, how idk maybe he was just on a small time limit and sadly he and this Dimitri would have to part ways.

Dimitri, despite knowing this, shakingly pleads for his father to stay -- not to leave him alone again and that he missed him so much. Holding onto his father's hands tightly, even as he can feel Lambert fading away --

Lambert would smile at his son, warm and fatherly, just as Dimitri remembers and they hug again. Lambert telling Dimitri that he's sorry for leaving again and that he wished he could have been a better father for him in this time -- Dimitri saying that's not true and that he should have been a better son.

And Lambert just -- *sobs* just holds Dimitri's face in his hands again and tells him, with so much love and warmth " You are more than I could have ever hoped for-- You, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, are my pride and joy. You are a leader, a hero, a king for our people. You embody every ideal we strive for...what more could a father ever ask for?"

He would kiss Dimitri's forehead and wipe away his tears, " My time with you was the greatest gift our Goddess could bestow upon me. I will always cherish you, Dimitri, cherish you beyond imagining." ( everyone in the bg is probably crying or trying not to, I know I'd be sobbing my eyes out )

Dimitri is crying but he's smiling, even as he can feel his father's visage fading and even as Lambert fades -- he still says to Dimitri--

"Now go forth from here and use your wisdom and your strength for our people, for the world. Be brave, loving, and compassionate - be the King you and I both know you are." Lambert chuckles for a moment, bright and maybe even a little mischievous, " And have a little fun while you're at it~"

Dimitri, with a shaky and tearful smile says. " I love you, Father...I love you so much!"

" And I love you, Dimitri. I will always love you..."

With a final smile, Lambert would fade from the canon timeline and return to his own.

Where, after telling everyone he is okay and all ( and making sure to give Rodrigue a big fat smooch) , he will find his Dimitri and hold his son close. He never wants to see the light fade away from his son's eyes, and he will do all be can to be a better example and live for both himself, his son, and his people.

[writer-of-worlds]

Edeleth and Bernadetta fic. Bernadetta gets a nightmare/panic attack/whatever and couldn't go back to sleep. Byleth stays up with her and distracts her from her distress, eventually baking some sweets together.

Edelgard wakes up eventually and joins them. ❤️