Darkivist

@thedarkivist

she/her, they/them, 30 pfp by @faestorian #ferdibert #thedarkivistwrites

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Darkivist@thedarkivist· 20d

I want to screenshot every frame

Darkivist@thedarkivist· 21d

WIP Wthursday

To the other two passengers, Hubert looked like a cat who just encountered an unexpected cucumber. Thankfully, lady Edelgard was too generous to say it out loud, and Linhardt too busy.

Darkivist@thedarkivist· 23d

that doesn’t sound quite right but who am I to argue with an online personality test

Darkivist@thedarkivist· 25d

normal things to say about opera

I've yet to see a version of this scene that isn't incredibly horny
thank god

Darkivist@thedarkivist· Jul 13

A little intense, but I kind of like it...?

Darkivist@thedarkivist· Jul 12

ur just like me fr

Certified Omer masterpiece depicting Ferdinand stabbing something offscreen while surrounded by heart emojis.

Darkivist@thedarkivist· Jul 5

#ferdibert New chapter of Ferdinand's Letter is now available: archiveofourown.org/works/751337...

Darkivist@thedarkivist· Jun 19

that's what she-

What people just don't understand
Is that writing's demanding
It's mentally challenging and it's a bore
It's such a chore
To sit in a room by yourself
Oh my god, I just hate it!

Darkivist@thedarkivist· Jun 18

There are too many options, even if I only stuck to English. Invictus by Henley is dear to me, Robert Browning's The Laboratory is an old favourite, too... The Drunken Boat by Arthur Rimbaud (different translation though) is also up there... I do enjoy poetry, though I'm a bit basic with it.

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

That in the mortar—you call it a gum?
Ah, the brave tree whence such gold oozings come!
And yonder soft phial, the exquisite blue,
Sure to taste sweetly,—is that poison too?

But, in truth, I have wept too much! Dawns are heartbreaking.
Every moon is atrocious and every sun bitter.
Acrid love has swollen me with intoxicating torpor
O let my keel burst! O let me go into the sea!

Darkivist@thedarkivist· Jun 17

Well, recently I burnt through Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System, so that was a big one. In general, I have a soft spot for isekai, transmigration, reincarnation and so on, so it was only a matter of time. Villains Are Destined to Die is another one that enchanted me, and I can’t wait to see how it-

Ask me something!
what are all the current things that occupy your brain lately? shows, manga, podcasts etc

Darkivist@thedarkivist· Jun 17

Give me a ship or a character + an AO3 tag and I'll tell you about the fic I would write for them

Darkivist@thedarkivist· Jun 17

more progress on Ferdinand's Letter

"Well…" Ferdinand began, struggling to find words. The sun had already set, and his aunt would have much to say about his tardiness. She had a lot to say about many things in general, though her monologues were largely unburdened by facts.

The same could be said of the most of the extended family. They couldn't comprehend why duke Aegir was arrested, and so they simply elected to ignore it. Once the initial shock subsided, they even treated the war, "that unpleasant affair", as a mere interlude that would pass soon, Ferdinand's own involvement as a young man's folly.

Why should they care? Enbarr was safe.

He cleared his throat. "That was most enlightening, Hubert. Thank you for showing me, though I cannot for the life of me understand why you did."

Darkivist@thedarkivist· Jun 14

I bring you the queen

a card depicting the queen of elves in Discworld

PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION
SPECIES
Elf
GENDER
Female
HEIGHT
Whatever she wants you to see
WEIGHT
Little
EYE COLOR
Cruel

Darkivist@thedarkivist· Jun 12

fashionably late for WIP Wednesday with Ferdinand's Letter

"Hubert! Were you looking for me? What happened?"

The other waved his hand dismissively, like a man whose past hour wasn't filled with constant glances out of the window. "Must there be a reason?"

"Yes, there must." Ferdinand crossed his arms. "Have you forgotten? It is best we do not touch on topics other than work and weather."

Hubert scoffed. "As you wish. I thought you might be interested in- ah, never mind. The weather is tolerable. Goodnight."

It was bait. Even Ferdinand could tell that it was bait. Lichen growing on the underside of a rock could tell that it was bait. He shifted his weight and blurted out: "Interested in what?"

So be it. Anyone would be curious. Hubert could shove that victorious smirk where… wherever he kept his other poisons.

Darkivist@thedarkivist· Jun 3

picked up Ferdinand's Letter again... what's going on with Hubert??? + a little Antagonist sneak peek

Dorothea slipped out of Hubert's office and finally breathed that sigh of relief she'd been holding since handing over the coded missives from Hrym. Only one, and then she was smiling again, as a diva should.

"Dorothea! I thought you were on tour!"

Ferdinand's voice carried, but he didn't come closer, as though there was an invisible barrier around Hubert's office. Dorothea wouldn't be surprised if that were the case. Back in the Academy, those two got along like sopranos and mezzos, or sopranos and contraltos, or sopranos and other sopranos - any improvement on that front would be a miracle.

She crossed her arms. "The opera company had to return to the capital at some point, you know."

"Ah-" He flushed. "Of course. Of course! What I meant is that I did not expect to see you today. It has been too long."

[…]

"You may escort me to the opera," she offered. "Or are you too busy?"

The door to Hubert's office opened a crack, barely perceptible. Hubert didn't join them and if Ferdinand noticed, he gave no sign of it.

The guards posted in front of the palace had enough good sense to pretend they weren't eavesdropping when their Emperor addressed the minister of the imperial household.

"Are you sure you don't want to join me?"

Hubert nodded, his expression unreadable behind the curtain of dark hair. "It is for the best, given the situation."

She watched him for a moment. "Nobody believes you would harm Ferdinand."

"Why not?" He wouldn't meet her eyes. "A motive could be invented easily enough, I imagine. Best I maintain some distance until the situation is resolved."

They never made a habit of vulnerability - it would be too awkward to start now. Worse yet, he had a point.

Without another word, Edelgard disappeared in the infirmary. Compared to the one in Garreg Mach, it was smaller, but equipped with anything a doctor could wish for and furnished not just for efficiency, but for comfort. She didn't need it often. Not yet.

Darkivist@thedarkivist· Jun 2

#FerdibertWeek2026 Ferdibert, now with monsterloving! archiveofourown.org/works/86004246

It was an accident, Hubert didn't say. Because they both knew that. Because it would change nothing. Because no words fit around the twist in his heart. Because, frankly, his brain was not in charge at the moment. Instead, he loosened his grip on Ferdinand's hair to stroke his cheek. "Consider me contrite."

Darkivist@thedarkivist· Jun 1

#FerdibertWeek2026 The prologue to one of the fics I'm working on for the ferdibert week. I hoped I'd have finished it by now, but I hope you'll forgive my hubris there. Day 1: Secret archiveofourown.org/works/859392...

Darkivist@thedarkivist· May 27

Hubert was staring at his hands. He flexed his fingers and, with a slow exhale, relaxed them again. The memory of Ferdinand thrashing about in his grip was only that, a memory. They rarely touched, contrary to some of the gossip circulating around the capital. Those who repeated that drivel clearly thought Hubert a far braver man than he truly was.

"Hubie! Is anyone going to tell me what's going on?"

Darkivist@thedarkivist· May 27

👀

Let's play Writer's Would
You Ever
Send me an ask that says "Would you ever write.." and continue the sentence.
PIl respond with yes or no and give an explanation as to why if I want to.

Darkivist@thedarkivist· May 26

I can finally show off the work I've done for the Divine Pathways zine! I had the honour of working on the introduction, and I got to write about my darlings - Ferdinand, Constance, and Caspar! Links to follow: @fe3horacledeck.bsky.social

Sunlight seeping through the darkness after a sleepless night. Pages whispering in a novel opened for the first time. A voice that cracks on a greeting. A moment of clarity on an unremarkable Thursday afternoon. A familiar smile, suddenly new. Change in its innumerable transmutations.

This is not the beginning.

This is not the beginning, but it could be.

Time flows, unbothered by the plans of mortals. What is there except for happy surrender and the comfort of knowing there is nothing to be done? In short - everything. Time cannot be stopped, but its waters can be charted, even if their intrepid navigators remain vulnerable to finding themselves stranded or seized by the currents.

May this deck be a friend and a companion on the journey through the tides of change, however tempestuous.

Each card is a buoy, designed to guide, inspire and encourage reflection. More than that, it represents the combined efforts of everyone who participated in the creative process. That process is, at its core, human - it echoes the conversation between personal tastes, intentions, and countless little idiosyncrasies that make up art. Whenever the stars seem too distant, think of the people.

This is not the beginning, but it could be.

The choice is yours.

Darkivist@thedarkivist· May 26

ferdibert cracked treated seriously because it's Lewd's birthday and she deserves the world but best I can do is crack treated seriously

Hubert von Vestra wasn't eavesdropping. Though he'd been accused of such acts more than once, doing so would in reality be beneath the minister of the imperial household - besides, how effective could it possibly be as a method of surveillance compared to a well-concealed sigil?

No. He simply stopped in front of Ferdinand's office, taking longer than usual to check the time on his pocket watch. Right about now, the prime minister was to have yet another informal meeting with count Mateus, even if Hubert couldn't fathom why would those two require more than one of those. Despite the fact that Mateus had made no real overtures to act as opposition, the man was a traditionalist to the core, and - with his charisma and good looks - more trouble than he was worth.

Ferdinand insisted the meetings were mostly social, and, true, whenever Hubert happened to pass by that door, more often than not he'd overhear them exalt a recent opera production, a particular breed of horses, or the weather. They'd even made dinner plans a handful of times, but they always fell through. Due to. Reasons. That couldn't be directly tied to Hubert.

That time, however, the office was silent. Hubert lingered on the doorstep, waiting for any sign that would indicate whether anyone was there, or whether they'd moved somewhere… more private.

After a couple of minutes, he knocked, and upon receiving no response, entered.

The office was empty, save for count Mateus' corpse, half collapsed on the sofa. He took note of the cup dangling from his limp hand, and the discolouration around his mouth. Hubert blinked. Well. That was certainly a development. With excessive care, he closed the door, put a chair in front of it, then walked over to the window and shut the curtains too.

He raised an eyebrow and although - well, because - nobody was watching, his lips twitched in a smile. Wonders never ceased with Ferdinand. Of course, he'd have a few stern words with him regarding cleanup, but since he got there first, he could deal with that himself. Just this once.

Five minutes later, the office was filled with sunlight, the corpse safely stored in the palace underground to be disposed of later, and Hubert was seated on the sofa, waiting for Ferdinand to return.

No sooner had he made himself comfortable than the door flew open, knocking over the chair. Ferdinand marched in, two people in healers' uniforms in tow. He pointed to the sofa but froze when he saw not his victim, but Hubert.

"Where is-"

Ah. Was that the play Ferdinand had in mind? He'd have to give him a primer on poisons too if he wished to get away with "natural causes". They could spend quite a few pleasant evenings that way.

Hubert stood up and straightened his jacket, serene as ever. "The count recovered quite quickly. He asked me to pass on his apologies, as he had another engagement and had to leave."

A strange expression passed over Ferdinand's face, but he only turned to the healers and said sheepishly: "I am sorry, I raised alarm for nothing. Please, do not let me take up more of your time."

The healers exchanged glances, but retreated as quietly as they'd appeared. The door closed behind them, leaving the two ministers staring at each other.

"Where is count Mateus?" Ferdinand asked sharply. "When he collapsed, I thought… saints, I do not even know. What exactly did he-"

Hubert silenced him with a gesture. "Have no fear, he is quite dead. I took the liberty of disposing of the evidence, though next time I would appreciate a note in advance."

Ferdinand gasped. "Dead? How?"

Hubert's smirk widened."You don't need to pretend that you don't know. I have to say, I'm impressed, I did not expect you to reach for poison and choose such an effective one. Beginners often select poorly." He paused. "Unless… this was not your first time? Oh my."

"Hubert, I did not poison anyone," he said, his colour an exquisite match for the Adrestian flag. Then, just as suddenly, he turned sheet white. "Oh. The cup."

It was Hubert's turn to not understand. "The cup?"

Ferdinand began pacing around the room, running his hands through his hair. "I noticed my guest's cup was chipped, so when he was not looking, I exchanged it for my own."

No Silence spell could be more effective than those words. After what could be a few seconds or an hour, Hubert said carefully: "Are you telling me that the tea he drank-"

"-was mine, yes."

Hubert swore under his breath. Were it not for Ferdinand's manners and quick action, they'd have a corpse on their hands. Correction - a corpse Hubert actually cared about.

"I cannot believe your first thought was that I meant to kill him!" Ferdinand exclaimed, entirely too indignant considering the circumstances.

"You killed a lot of people, Ferdinand," Hubert pointed out.

"Well, you can hardly compare war and-" He waved his hand around, for once in his life at a loss for words. "Do you genuinely think me that sort of man?"

Hubert looked at him. Ferdinand truly was a marvel, a force of nature, golden in the sunlight, striking and bold. No. In truth, he wasn't one for secrecy and that, too, was a virtue. He would never understand Hubert's veiled suggestions and hints. How troublesome.

He crossed the room and, almost shyly, reached for Ferdinand's hand. The golden eyes that haunted him widened in surprise, but Ferdinand didn't pull away. They were so close he could see him swallow, the movement barely perceptible above the top of his cravat.

"Ferdinand," he started quietly, "you can do anything you set your mind to. It's frustrating, but it's also a quality that is difficult not to admire. And if that 'anything' would benefit from my assistance, know that it is yours."

Ferdinand licked his lips and hesitated before saying: "Anything? Very well."

With that, he closed the distance between them and kissed him. The kiss was careful at first, tentative, but the shyness quickly melted away in the enthusiasm of Hubert's response. They tumbled through the office, unwilling to part even when Hubert ended up sitting on the desk, his legs wrapped around Ferdinand's waist.

Clumsily grinding against Fódlan's prime minister wasn't on Hubert's agenda for the day, but he'd make sure to add that to his rotation of regular meetings.

Since Ferdinand's social calendar cleared up somewhat.

Darkivist@thedarkivist· May 14

fellas, you don’t even want to know what’s in store

"Look at me."

What could he do but humour him? Hubert blinked. Droplets of water clung to his eyelashes, only half-responsible for his unfocused stare. Looking directly into the sun would be easier. The sun wouldn't look back. The sun wouldn't notice the tear running down his cheek, nor would it wipe it away with such excessive tenderness.

Darkivist@thedarkivist· May 11

4. I have sososo many - here's a cut scene from The Language of Flowers (hanahaki with extra steps) 5. titles are always a struggle... Someone Else's Story, Pearls from the Deep and Burying Bones are all songs; Ruptured Heaven is one of Byleth's arts; Ferdinand's Letter is a reference to

The Garreg Mach library was quiet, but for the scratching of a quill on parchment. Most people had already left for the day, but most people weren’t trying to finish their schoolwork. That mercenary – ah, apologies – their professor always planned their missions at the end of the month as though travel time was something that only happened other people, and Hubert would rather save himself the hassle of scrambling to complete his assignments at the last possible minute.
He rubbed his eyes, burning with yet another night of sleep delayed.
Ferdinand, sitting across from him, was hunched over his parchment, brows scrunched, clutching his quill as though he had some personal vendetta against intermediate battalion tactics. Maybe he did. He had a great deal of opinions, and an even greater compulsion to share them completely unbidden.
Out of nowhere, he tossed the quill aside, stretched, and announced: “Done!”
Hubert raised an eyebrow, trying to recall asking. “Congratulations,” he said drily, then returned to his own work.
He looked away a second too late, and he’d regret that second for years to come, because Ferdinand smiled at him. A wide, triumphant smile, too pleased with himself to be truly befitting a noble. Normally, Hubert wouldn’t hesitate to point that out, but something – a trick of light, his own exhaustion, a malevolent curse – made his breath catch in his throat.

Ferdinand gathered his books and papers, inexplicably smug over the fact that he managed to do everything faster than his classmate, and finally left.
With a sigh, Hubert shook his head, and pressed his thumb into the dip in his throat, rubbing circles into the paper-thin skin there, cursing the air in the library, more dust than oxygen at the best of times. He coughed, but rather than alleviate the discomfort, that single cough turned into a fit, and to his horror he could feel something damp in his palm when he covered his mouth. Right. Perhaps it was for the best Aegir left already, for that was not his most dignified moment.

Darkivist@thedarkivist· May 11

Darkivist@thedarkivist· May 7

what if I made a list of prompts like Lewd and actually remembered to use it

If you could get me to write one fic, what ship, trope, kink, etc would it be?

Darkivist@thedarkivist· May 6

when I find a way to inflict that one adaptation of Three Musketeers on my blorbeaux, it's over for everyone

Buckingham: How did you get, milady, countess de Winter-

Milady: Ah-

B: -into my bedroom?

M: Duke... the same way a widow finds a particular gravestone.

B: That joke was not in good taste.

M: Yet a poet could not have said it better. Aren't you, duke... afraid of me, after all? [laughs quietly] A pleasant bedroom. Who crosses its threshold that you'd guard its secrets so anxiously? ... Duke Buckingham is truly angry. [seems to get angry herself] Why? Because I love him? And because he rejects me? And because, duke, I am a little murdered by the dagger you've carried for six or seven years? Can you marvel at the recklessness of my steps? I myself fear the consequences of my actions - I, you yourself, the whole world has a share in my sin.

B: You are strange, milady, it makes me shudder.

M: Duke, if they burnt Satan's initials into your flesh, would you stay tender? Passion is like the night, it has its dark priestesses. [pause] You have nothing to say, you sweet fool. Banish the thief. Banish the beggar. After all, everything is a game. The clouds keep passing overhead. Farewell my duke. I have no regrets.

Richelieu, after his gambit with the queen's jewels failed in a truly embarrassing fashion: Here you have hidden. Say, milady, why such consideration - for the sake of the French queen... or the duke? Are you in love? The executioner will tell you about cardinal Richelieu's opinion on treason.

Milady: I understand monsignor is in poor humour, yet I'm confused by the manner of his rebuke. Tell me, your holiness, what am I guilty of? I had the entire necklace and could've taken it!

Richelieu: Enough!

Milady, slowly, with faint amusement, almost purring: I shall say no more. [pause] My feelings rise up against me when I have to defend myself. Was it treason, then, to confess? Confess what? That I'm fond of Buckingham? No. He had rejected me, and so I avenge myself. [pause] [almost lightly, teasingly] Have me hanged. I am yours. In every way. Each and every one. [laughing softly] I never clung to life overmuch. Rather than boredom, rather than begging, I'd sooner swallow my ring and the poison inside.

Richelieu, disdainful: Devil's nun, I'd execute you at once. Should I apologise? You care none for that. I know that, despite everything, you still respect me, don't you?

Milady, dreamily: I know nothing. There's night in my feelings. All I know is that monsignor has power over milady, like she has over the people she herself loathes.

Darkivist@thedarkivist· May 6

working on three things for the Gothic week - this is the one in which Ferdinand plans Hubert's funeral

Ferdinand woke up slumped in the armchair, stiff, dishevelled, with his neck bent at an angle that should've been incompatible with sleep. Chill was beginning to creep in, the fireplace glowing with a few last embers. He stretched, holding back a yawn, a half-formed remark on his lips - then the words crumbled as memory returned.

Poetry, he used to believe, had a remarkable vocabulary for grief. But it was all just shorthand, no more expressive than the list of tasks yet awaiting him. He was grateful for the work. It carried him through the stupor of the past days.

He got up and stumbled to their bedroom without bothering to light the lamps, kicked off his shoes, and collapsed on his side of the bed. Messages were sent to their friends, though not all of them would be able to make it to the funeral on time. He groped about for a pillow for a moment and pulled it into a hug, in lieu of…

… and, of course, there was his regular work in his capacity as prime minister, though he'd delegated what he could in order to… his scent lingered on the pillow, naturally, it would be strange if it didn't, and it wasn't just his soap or aftershave, no, there was a hint of ozone from his magic, and another note Ferdinand could only love and never identify, but it would fade away, and… should they have music?

Darkivist@thedarkivist· May 3

the no. 1 struggle of writing ferdibert smut, in one line:

Hubert covered Ferdinand's mouth before he could argue. "You talk too much."

Darkivist@thedarkivist· Apr 30

The way this is lowkey canon... let Ferdie enjoy dancing!!! It's what he deserves!!!

Ferdinand: An elegant coalescence of beautiful song and frenetic swordplay. That was the most memorable aspect for me. Onstage, weapon in hand, letting your ballad soar to the heavens... Honestly, the first time I held a sword, it was not to train. I was trying to do your sword dance.
Manuela: I inspired your love of weaponry? How...flattering?
Ferdinand: Correct! It is all thanks to you.

Darkivist@thedarkivist· Apr 29

if only there was a cool Fire Emblem oracle deck to help with that decision