#❪ the problem is that sometimes this blog feels like a chore bc i forget to answer interactions

[riggedtraps]

❪ maybe it's time for me to come back to this account? semi-hiatus instead of hiatus maybe? ❫

[scrapingby]

Something about Rhun makes people just want to tell them things and it absolutely started in their childhood. All of their brothers used to go to them, if they needed someone that would just listen. Most of the time it was just being able to say something out loud, to not be alone with their thoughts. And with the experiments and the general pains of growing up that would happen a lot.

And that would be fine. Rhun has always been responsible, always worried about the beings close to them. But it wasn't fine, because for all that Rhun listened to every single complaint of their brothers, their brothers didn't listen to them. Not when they tried to tell them about how their day had been going (because no one wants to listen about what chores the nuns had Rhun do). Not even when they requested advice, because Rhun would take too long to answer. And especially not when Rhun tried to talk about their own feelings, their own worries.

Because for Rhun talking was hard. It's hard to always follow two group discussions at once: the one in the real world and the one in your head. It's humiliating to give an answer to a question that wasn't spoken or add something when the conversation has already moved onto something else.

It's also hard to talk while being so deeply aware of every tooth in your mouth brushing against the flesh of your cheeks and your tongue when you form words. And it's deeply uncomfortable to be told by your brothery that the over exaggerated way you move your face while talking looks ugly.

Sometimes Rhun stayed silent for so long that they feared they would forget how to speak (and that with their voice removed, their brothers would soon move on from them) so they forced themselves to not think, just press some words out. That's how they started to be what could be considered "snarky". Trying to keep on top of the conversation by thinking fast.

With the nuns, talking wasn't an option at all. And from all of the siblings I believe Rhun was the one deemed the most "well-behaved" or "responsible" so if the nuns needed an extra set of hands for something delicate or just someone to help with anything at all, they would take Rhun (I also feel like Rhun is someone that needs to do something all the time, because the alternative is being alone with their thoughts. So they were always grateful to get chores and even offered to do them for the brothers). And inevitably they would either start talking at Rhun (bc they wouldn't want a real answer from them anyways) or among each other and Rhun would just have to be there and listen. Often times it would be about personal problems of the nuns but mostly it was about the brothers. About the experiments and how good or how bad they performed. What punishments should be used for whom (for that one, they always wanted Rhun to answer) and shouldn't Rhun be grateful that they were being allowed so much freedom with how freaky they were?

So no. Talking isn't Rhuns strong suit. And they don't like thinking about how it makes them feel that everyone feels comfortable to dump their trauma on them but that no one, not even their brothers, bother to listen to their thoughts. So they work. And they try not to feel too bitter about always being used but never wanted. So yeah. They get snarky when people just start talking to them. They know how it will go. But they always, always listen. Because they know how it feels when no one listens to you.

----

Seriously, Klaus went out of this way to try to smooth things over with both words and actions with Zeke (DVD) and Fips (carrots). But with Rhun? All he did was say that what Rhun had been saying since forever was right and that they should have listened. My heart is breaking all over again.

Thanks at @jobroedchen-blog for your addition to last post. That's what kickstarted this train of thought that I had been trying to ignore until now

[letters-from-the-three-houses]

ahh I love your blog!! could I have a dimitri sickfic please, if you're taking requests? he seems like the type to overwork himself (to me, at least :(

he really does!! the poor boy should take care of himself :(

ft. the rest of the blue lions (silver lining for the long wait?) bc they all care about their house leader

enjoy!

edit: every time i publish a request before i go to the school, the moment i arrive to class i always spot typos lol. and this one had a looot. fixed them up!

When the coughing first appeared, he thought nothing of it. They always came and went with a good night’s rest, and he had no reason to think this one would be different.

He was wrong.

Voice hoarse, he kept clearing his throat as he tried to help Annette with her homework. She always had difficulties explaining things properly, and their teacher docked marks because of her lack of coherent thought. So he took it upon himself to tutor her and help boost up her grades. “Imagine the gaits as beats,” he said. “A walk is four—going in the pattern of left hind leg, left front, right hind, right front, and so forth.”

“Left hind…front… Wait, could you repeat that? Which leg then what? This? This? This?”

They had drawn a nice, simple horse illustration on Annette’s papers, her pencil pointing at each stick leg to show which one she was referring to. Dimitri was having trouble differentiating them. He repeated his explanation. “Legs of the same side are back to back—left, left, right, right—while the halves interchange—back, front, back front.”

“So beat one is back left, beat two is front left…”

He nodded, then winced. Okay, that was a mistake. That just made his head hurt. “Yeah, just like that.”

She beamed. “Oh! I see! I think I get it now. Thanks!”

“No problem. What else do you need me to clarify?”

“Nah, I think that’s it. I’ll try to do the rest myself.” Motioning to her notes, she added, “Besides, you’ve helped me a lot! I’ll figure it out eventually.”

“Sure thing.” He rose from the seat, careful not to make any sudden movements. “I’ll get going then, but let me know if you need more help.”

“Yep! Thanks again, Dimmie!”

He stumbled away from a waving Annette, making sure to stand upright and walk in a straight line.

Now I have to feed the horses, go to lance practice, catch up on the assigned readings… Ah, I also promised Ingrid I’d try her new tea. She’s been making good progress with—

Cough.

He sighed. Hopefully this would stop soon.

But as the days went on, the more it took for him to resist barfing.

Placing a hand on the wall, he took a deep breath. Gods, it felt like his skull was cracking open. Everything hurt. Everything was hot. He didn’t even know where he was anymore.

“Common room?” he said to himself. “I think I’m near the common room.”

He had just come from the armoury, hands heavy with all the papers and materials he needed for the task. Felix didn’t realize it, but he sometimes broke the training swords faster than the monastery could replace them. Dimitri had taken up the slack in order to keep it well-stocked, so his friend could continue practicing without hassle.

“…Milord? What are you doing on the wall?”

He turned around. It was Dedue. “Oh, it’s nothing. Just thinking to myself.”

Dedue didn’t seem to believe him, and he bent over to study him with a frown. Or, Dimitri figured it was a frown. He couldn’t see it properly, but he was still conscious enough to realize Dedue wouldn’t be smiling. “You look sick.”

“I’m only taking a breather,” he insisted. He had to get to the library to find source materials for the essay Sylvain has having trouble on. If he left the books on Sylvain’s desk later, the boy would be able to finish his essay on time. “No need to worry.”

But as he tried to pat Dedue’s shoulder in assurance, his vision blurred and he hit the ground, things scattering around him.

“Milord?!”

“No…I’m okay…” He struggled to keep his eyes open, but the sudden fall and the yelling made his head hurt. “Just…tired…”

He felt Dedue lift him up, his arm hanging loosely around the other’s neck. Feet dragging,  breathing ragged, his mind was beginning to shut down.

“Really…it’s nothing…I still have to…”

“Milord,” he heard Dedue say. “With all due respect, be quiet.”

The last thing he saw was a group of people running towards him before he passed out.

He woke up on something soft. It took him a second to realize he was staring at the ceiling.

…Wait, where was he?

Jolting up, he surveyed the room. White walls, beds, sterile sheets. The infirmary, if he had to guess? His head hurt noticeably less, his throat was less clogged, and he could actually count how many fingers he held up before his face.

“Oh? You’re awake?” He turned to see Manuela in her chair, brows raised but otherwise nonplussed. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” he said after some deliberation.

“Any headaches?”

“Yeah, but it’s not as bad as before.”

“Stuffy nose?”

“Less stuffy.”

She stalked over to take his temperature, noting it down on a piece of paper. “Your fever is breaking. And it looks like you’re not coughing as often. Good signs. Take it easy though. You’re still sick.”

“How long was I out for?”

“Nineteen hours.”

“Nineteen?!”

She gave him a reprimanding stare. “With how terrible your condition was, I’m surprised it wasn’t longer. You gave us quite a scare, looking as pale as you did. Your housemates were panicking when they brought you here.”

Thinking back to what happened, guilt set in. The last people he saw must’ve been them. “Where are they now?” he asked.

“The mess hall, having their lunch.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

He began to swing his legs over the bed before Manuela tutted, walking over to push him back on the pillows. “Hm? Who said you could leave? You’re stuck on bed rest for the rest of the day. Doctor’s orders.”

“But—”

“No buts. I don’t want you fainting in the hallways again.”

“Professor—” he tried again.

“Another word from you and the prescription will change to two days.”

He pursed his lips.

She glanced at him, smiling. “Focus on recovering, won’t you? Your housemates will feel better if you’re back to normal sooner than later.”

He nodded, not knowing what else to say. Or do, for that matter. Knowing he slept for nineteen hours straight, he wasn’t sleepy anymore. But he had a feeling if he asked the professor for something to keep him busy, she’d make him stay here longer than he needed to.

He could count sheep, he supposed. Try to reach a thousand, or something.

As he was about to begin, there was a knock on the door. He couldn’t tell who it was, but Manuela seemed to be expecting it. As she answered the door, she said, “You all ate quickly.”

“Yes, we couldn’t sit still.” His ears perked up. The voice was familiar. Mercedes? “How is he doing now?”

She thought about it, then motioned towards him. “I think it’s easier if you take a look for yourself.”

Someone gasped. “What?” That was Ashe, who slipped under Manuela to peek inside. “Does that mean it’s gotten worse? Is he—? Oh! He’s awake!”

And with that, the rest of the Blue Lions clambered into the room.

“He is?”

“Thank the gods…”

“I told you he was going to be okay!”

“Yeah, but if he wasn’t being an idiot in the first place—”

“Quiet. His headache just got better.” That shut them up. “You’re more than welcome here,” Manuela said, “but don’t aggravate him. Else I’ll kick you all out.”

“Yes, Professor.”

She shook her head, letting out a short laugh. “As long as you understand. Well then, children, I’ll be in my office. Call me if anything happens. And remember: no noise.”

As soon as she left, Ashe turned to Dimitri and stage whispered, “You sure you’re okay, Chief?”

He nodded. This time, it didn’t make him feel like throwing up. “Positive.”

“You should’ve told us you were sick,” Mercedes chastised. “What would have happened if Dedue wasn’t there to find you?”

He shuffled in the bed. “Well,” he muttered, “for starters, I wasn’t planning on fainting.”

“That is besides the point.” She sighed. “Please, we all care about you. Take better care of yourself.”

“Why didn’t you tell us about all those chores you do?” Sylvain chimed in. “We didn’t realize you did them all by yourself. You’ve done a lot for us. We want to do something for you too.”

Everyone nodded. He opened his mouth to respond, but stopped when he saw the earnestness in their eyes. It reminded him of himself, how he felt when he worked for the sake of his housemates. So he stared for a moment before saying, “Okay.”

“…Okay?”

“I admit I overworked,” he said, “taking in all those responsibilities at once. I guess I’ve gotten used to doing everything by myself. But you’re right. And I do trust you. As the leader of the Blue Lions, I’ve seen how hardworking and disciplined you all are.”

They looked at each other.

“So does that mean…?” Ingrid asked.

“Yeah. No more pushing myself to the limit. I’ll ask for help.” He cracked a smile. “I’m proud to have you as my friends.”

The solemn atmosphere broke out into exuberance, as they all expressed their relief in different ways. Mostly, through excited chatter and tight hugs. The wind rushed out of his lungs as they gathered in for a group hug.

“H-hey, having said that, I’m still sick.” He tried to speak up, but his words were drowned out by everyone else as they began splitting responsibilities between themselves. It didn’t help that his voice was still weaker than usual. “Can you all settle down a bit? It’s getting noisy. Guys? Guys?”

Omake:

From inside her office, Manuela could hear them as clear as day. Footsteps thundered People cheered. Laughter echoed. Did they forget her warning already? She wouldn’t be surprised if they broke something in the chaos.

Still, listening to them and all their enthusiasm—"rock, paper, scissors for who gets to help tend the stables!“—she shook her head and chuckled. I guess I’ll let it slide this time.

[asks are open!]