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  1. Rec 5

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    Originally written for Guiding Stars: A Blue Lions Zine.

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    The blood on his hands was the first step to freedom. The taste of it was the reminder that this was reality and not a nightmare.

    Dimitri bowed into the darkness. The tang of copper stained his teeth and ran his body dry. The blood that rushed through his veins was water to him. The thing that sustained him when the guards denied him even a drop.

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    Or, with Dedue's help, Dimitri finally escapes prison only to find that sometimes a prison can be of his own making.

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    25 Jul 2024

  2. Public Bookmark 83

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    Freminet hated doing missions out of the water but he’d never say no to orders. Now Pers is broken.

     

    Whumptober Day 5
    Debris, Pinned down, "It's Broken"

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    05 Oct 2023

  3. Rec *

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    The story begins like this:

     

    There is a legend in Fontaine,

     

    That every time the sky does rain,

     

    It comes, not from wind, or cloud, or sky,

     

    But from the great Hydro Dragon, feeling sad enough to cry.

     

    Or,

    In which Freminet, somehow, keeps running into none other than the Chief Justice himself.

    Things all sort of begin to unravel from there.

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    English
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    03 Sep 2023

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    “So, Princess,” Claude says. “What are you—a sheep or a wolf?”

    He smiles at her, and Edelgard leans towards him in response. Both are aware of the challenge being levied—one wolf to another. “I don’t know,” she says. “Which one do the devils prefer?”

    Claude’s grin only grows at her answer. “Well, the goddess would take care of the sheep, right? The wolves are on their own.”

    “I don’t understand any of this,” Dimitri says. “There are no sheep or wolves—just people.”

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    Dimitri, Claude, and Edelgard spend a night in the woods with something that is not the goddess.

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    06 Aug 2023

  5. Rec 37

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    “I–” Dimitri broke off, expression pinched as he appeared to consider which part of Claude’s statement he was going to disagree with first. Then, instead, he let out a low, harsh sigh. Broke eye contact to contemplate the ground instead. When he spoke, it was quiet, tentative.

    “It is… personal.” A pause. “Private.”

    The words didn’t strike Claude as an evasion, more like their own sort of admission. Claude frowned thoughtfully at Dimitri, studying his guarded expression, his weary air. The sad, dull blue of his eyes. He looked like a lost portrait from the past, some pre-fated figure from one of Dorothea’s tragedies.

    “I can’t just let you go alone,” Claude pushed, apparently in rare form himself, insistent in a way he didn’t know himself to be. “Dimitri… I’ll follow your lead on this, okay? Just. Let me do this. Consider it for my own peace of mind, alright?”

    **

    Or, late one night, Claude catches Dimitri sneaking out. He’s not content to let him go alone.

    **

    [meditations on death and the dead; grief and mourning, and the consequences thereupon.]

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    20 Jul 2023

    Bookmarker's Notes

    Wow. Very good. Wow.....wow....