#fe3h whump

[comfort-questing]

"headache/migraine"

All through class that day, Dimitri had been looking forward to getting outdoors and away from books, and from the dense smells that suddenly seemed so much stronger as the pressure behind his right eye built to its usual aching crescendo. At first he squinted, and then leaned his head on his hand, directing his good eye towards the page and trying his best to answer his share of the logistical discussion problems they were supposed to be studying.

"...oh, no, wait, I forgot about the feed the horses would need. What's the rate of feed per horse per day..." Sylvain shredded his bright hair with distracted fingers. "Dimitri?"

For someone who spoke so particularly of training to be a mounted knight, that question should not be such a puzzle, Dimitri thought dimly through the throbbing in his head. The migraines weren't new, and always seemed to follow his more sleepless nights, when the ghosts teased him in and out of any remnants of rest he could grasp. Sylvain was wearing cologne again and the heavy tinge of floral scent almost sickened him, faint as he knew it was.

He made some vague answer, as he'd done all morning, and tried to blink his eyes clear unsuccessfully.

"Are you all right, Dimitri?"

"Yes. Yes, of course." They had enough to worry about, these classmates and future subjects of his, without knowing about yet another of his endless skein of weaknesses.

Somehow he did make it through class, the moments blurring together, the rest of the Blue Lions' voices blending into a universal too loud, too much beneath the high wooden ceiling. He scrounged up some words to allay Dedue's concern as they passed each other in the hallway, although the other boy's steps seemed to lag at parting. Still, it was undeniable that the stables and the training grounds were in opposite directions.

The sunlight struck him like a blow as Dimitri left the shadow of the classroom building, and he clenched his teeth. This was going to be a very long day.

-

Dimitri didn't know, at first, whose hand it was that gently tapped his shoulder as he curled up in the corner of the tack stall, struggling to get his throbbing head and queasy stomach to cooperate enough to let him stand up again. He startled sluggishly, the whispers echoing between his ears dimming, and blinked upwards to see scruffy hair and a small swinging braid silhouetted against the daylight outside.

"Hullo, Your Princeliness. You don't look so well."

"I'm - resting. Just a slight headache."

The side of Claude's mouth twitched, as he quirked the corresponding eyelid above in a most remarkable wordless display of dubiousness. Dimitri gritted his teeth as another spike of pain drove through the bone above his own eye.

"Do you really think this is the best place to rest, then? Wouldn't you rather go somewhere else?"

That would require standing up, and staggering somewhere back through the sunlight, and letting people see him like this. Dimitri started to shake his head, but grimaced instead, wincing at the movement. "I'll - be fine soon."

He thought - hoped - Claude would go away; the last thing he needed right now was a witness. Outside the shade of the stalls the buzz of voices and the clatter of horseshoes on cobblestones echoed dimly.

But Claude didn't. Claude came closer, cautiously but surely, the minute sounds of his breathing and the brush of his clothing loud in the stillness. He reached out, Dimitri stiffening up under his touch, and slipped an arm under Dimitri's shoulders.

"I've got medicine in my room, if you don't want to bother Marianne," he said, his voice a low murmur, the smell of sweat and wyvern breath strong on him. "Though I don't think magic does much for mine when I get them, so... C'mon. Close your eyes and let me know when you're ready to stand up."

Dimitri had never dreamed of bothering any of the Faith mages with a problem like this. He wanted to protest, but the slight motion of opening his mouth jolted the pain into fresh throbbing, and he swallowed hard. His eyes had slid shut almost without his intention, distant sunlight bright as he turned his face.

He was so, so tired all of a sudden.

Be strong, whispered someone, the choked rasp of a corpse long dead by smoke and flame. Stand up, boy.

"I'm... ready."

-

Thinking back on it, he probably should have refused any of Claude's dubious original concoctions, but by the time the other boy got him back to the officers' academy dorms he didn't have the composure to protest. Claude helped him sit back against the wall, in the shadow of the building that was delight enough, and returned some moments later.

The sickly-sweet taste of the potion guided to his lips made him gag at first, but the fuzzy tingling that followed as he breathed deep dulled the pain and nausea a few notches in a sudden mercy he could have wept for. The arm behind his shoulders didn't leave, even as he leaned his head back against the wall, waiting for the relief to spread.

No words. Just Claude's hand firm at his shoulder, a comforting pressure that reminded him obscurely of old days, and fingers now ash and dust.

And when he finally let himself go into the drowsy heaviness beneath, he woke with a scarf folded under his head, and Dedue sitting next to him with a worried scowl.

"Your Highness? Sylvain told me you had vanished from the stables..."

"It's - it's all right, Dedue." Dimitri rolled over and got up on his elbows, some lingering dizziness catching him, but the weight and pain stretched out and lightened in his temples. "I had some help to feel better."

And he thought he'd imagined the fleeting smile on Dedue's face, as they both saw the bundle of gold cloth he'd napped on; but perhaps not, at that.

[whumperofworlds]

The fandom will never know what hit 'em.

[whumporpass]

Welcome back friend!!!

How about... Edelgard from Fire Emblem Three Houses?

[zevfern]

My contribution to Whumptober: a songfic based on a Blood Brothers song, featuring Lorenz/Mercedes. Listen to the song below!

[dandelion-wings]

For the ask meme, Jean and Venti? :>

Thank you for the ask! :>

JEAN

How I feel about this character

This should be no surprise to anyone, but I adore her. #1 absolute favorite Genshin character, bar none. She's already an archetype I love (honorable lady knight torn between duty/family and her own desires, bonus points for blondness; see also, FE3H Ingrid), enough so that the friend who got me into Genshin lured me in with her ("read the manga at least until you get to Jean, and if you like her, you have to start playing"), and a lot of her individual characteristics are also deeply endearing to me. I am not rational about Jean. She is my beloved precious blorbo who can do no wrong and I will write out her flaws and make her perfect if I want to, and I will write her outmatching and one-upping the male characters who are supposed to be just as or more cool, and I will write her whump and fluff and hurt/comfort where everyone goes "oh we have been unfair to Jean, let us rush to care about her," and I feel no shame on any of these points. I am holding her up and showing her to everyone like a beloved pet.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Okay, so, the thing about me is that I usually make my favorite character a fandom bicycle because I just like seeing how I think they'd interact with other characters I like? I have at least idle shipping thoughts about Jean and... so much of the rest of Genshin. But my primary ships for her are most of the other Knights of Favonius, particularly any combo, OTP or OT3 or OT4, of Lisa, Kaeya, and Eula, with some particularly energetic mental dabbling (less likely to make it on the page) in Jean/Ningguang, Jean/Rosaria, Jean/Diluc, and Jean/Sara. Those are probably the ones outside the OT4 and its permutations that I'm most likely to actively play with without some outside trigger or inspiration!

My non-romantic OTP for this character

See above, just without the kissing. That said, I think everyone knows it's Jean and Kaeya. XD And beyond that the platonic relationships within the OT4!

My unpopular opinion about this character

I... am not sure I have one? The people I choose to follow have Good Opinions, and I do not follow people with Bad Opinions so I don't know how popular they are (also I don't go into her main tag because main character tags get SO spammed with 'this character appeared once briefly in the background of this comic' sorts of tags. I follow individual artists and the rarepair tags). I like to think she could take Diluc, I guess? Who often gets presented in fanon and a little bit in canon as the Ultimate Mondstadt badass.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

More cool action scenes! And also FIXING HER RELATIONSHIP WITH BARBARA.

---

VENTI

How I feel about this character

I like him! I have somehow ended up following and being followed by many Venti fans who love him much more intensely, and he's one of those characters I already like enough that I can be enjoyably swept up in that love, such that for the duration of the post I'm reading or the discussion we're having, I love him just as much. Then it goes back to 'sure, he's cool and I enjoy seeing him'. :> Which I definitely do.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Venti isn't a fandom bicycle for me just because he's not in my top faves, but he definitely would have the potential if he was. >> That said, Dvalin, Zhongli, and Xiao are the only people I regularly seek out pairing content with him for; I enjoy incidentally seeing him with pretty much any of the world's other immortal/long-lived-non-human characters and all the now-dead past character's he's been with, and he's fun with a lot of the Mondstadt characters as well. Honorable mention to Jean/Venti for occupying the same mental space as Venti himself: a pairing I'm not personally invested in but, while I'm talking to @esmeraldablazingsky and/or reading their stuff, am temporarily 110% high-enthusiasm about.

My non-romantic OTP for this character

Broadly speaking, his various friends over the centuries and, currently, especially Dvalin, but I will admit that my Thing for Jean means that I am most fascinated with his relationship with her (the only person in canon who knows him in both his forms and is still respectful! XD) and, by extension, Gunnhildrs of the past.

My unpopular opinion about this character

I again don't know enough about general fandom opinion to have one. XD;; Most of my opinions about Venti are accumulated from the people I follow who love him, and I haven't seen any general popular ones among them that I disagree strongly with!

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

I put "Venti takes the Traveler to Celestia, or at least gives them a very strong hint and boost" in a lot of my speculative endgame scenarios because I feel like there are hints in canon that it COULD be what happens, and I really really hope that it WILL be. It feels like how the narrative around him should pay off, to me.

[felldimitri]

hi, welcome to my little corner of the internet. i'm mitya. she/her. +21 years old adult writer & amateur photographer. intersex transfemneu demigirl & sapphic + demiromantic. i've decided to start over on tumblr and hopefully i'll post my writing here. i'm very shy and anxious. i have different mental illnesses and use writing to vent. nsft warning all throughout my blog, so minors block me or you will be blocked too.

dimitri icon made by allenzwalker writing blog - dollboydimitri ao3 account - vashnui bluesky - vashnui

about:

i love writing about my fire emblem ships as well as my fe3h oc philip. i'm not a good artist, but occasionally you may see art posted here. i love angst, whump, tragedy and generally topics underneath the dead dove umbrella. some of my aesthetics are meatcore, zombiecore and angelcore, specifically catholic aesthetics. please block me if images of meat or catholicism trigger you. (i am an agnostic cra survivor.)

some of my favourite ships are dimimari, dimilix, m!dimileth, glennvain and diminand. you may see oc ships here too. i mainly ship my oc philip with felix, but sometimes you may see him written with other characters too. i am a yumejoshi, and i yume dimitri, glenn, sylvain and marianne. i don't mind sharing as long as you don't treat what i do as a threat. fiction =/= reality.

outside of fire emblem, i love photography, gardening, flowers and forensic science, as well as meatcore and limited space aesthetics. some of my other fandoms are hypnosis mic, bravely default, trigun (98 & stampede), octopath traveler and daiya no ace.

byi:

i write whenever i feel like it, and i write for myself. reblogs are appreciated, but please don't criticise or bash what i write. i am non-native and have multiple mental illnesses, so i tend to project heavily onto my characters. i write most of my favourite characters as trans and/or intersex.

sometimes i may delete posts randomly out of anxiety. most of my works are named after songs. i do not condone my works being used for AI stuff. block me if you use AI to "write" (you're lazy and boring).

dni:

i hate dnis, but i have boundaries before you decide to follow me. i do not condone harassment, abuse or doxing over fiction. regardless, keep me out of "proship" discourse. minors/under 18, do not interact. you will be blocked.

i have been diagnosed with multiple mental illnesses, including did, autism and hpd. do not interact if you are involved heavily in discourse. i literally have no energy to deal with arguing online. do not interact if you don't "share" f/os, or take sharing seriously. i yume for comfort reasons and i'm not here for contests.

antisemites, pro-russia, pro-trump dni.

tagging:

﹙🦁﹚mitya speaks - my posts, generally i share thoughts and whatnot. ﹙📖﹚shadow library - for my writing, ocs and prompts. ﹙📌﹚update - for account updates. ﹙📸﹚snapshot - my photography. ﹙🎨﹚mitya's work - my drawings, very rarely used. ﹙💭﹚yume mumbling - yumejoshi or oc x cc thoughts. ﹙💖﹚reblog - for all of my reblogs. ﹙❓﹚asks - asks that i (never) receive. ﹙💡﹚miscellany - for other topics that may not fit.

[meggydolaon]

hey mesa!! looking very intently at your wip titled "rockrose and thistle". i am an amazing devil fan first and a human being second. anything you wanna share from that?

also love to see that the cursed bird au has a working title now. got anything else new from that au?

Hi Rainey!! :D

So Rockrose and Thistle is a Berniegard fic from fe3h and I know you don't go here so I will Provide Context

The Rockrose and the Thistle in question:

Edelgard (red lady) and Bernadetta (purple girl). So just from the colors they're already pretty rockrose and thistle coded but the themes/lyrics of the song is important too!!

Fe3h is a game revolving around a war and it has multiple (4) routes depending on which faction the player sides with. This fic takes place where Edelgard loses ;( whump whump 🎺

As the spearhead of the war, Edie's got a lot of weight on her shoulders. Meanwhile Bernie, the local shut in, has been largely avoiding direct involvement. But as the tides take a turn for the worst, Bernie musters the resolve to stand by her emperor 😤

I really want to lean heavily on the parts in the song where it goes from "I know the kindest thing is to leave you alone" to "I know the kindest thing is to never leave you alone" ;w;

Cursed Bird AU is a pile of paper clippings and conspiracy yarn rn but I'm having fun with it XD the title "Making Noise" is inspired by Hozier's To Noise Making (Sing) as well as a double entendre referring to being vocal, disruptive, or popular. So basically perfect for Grace >;3c

To the uninformed, Cursed Bird AU is my Stray Gods wip where the Idols steadily regain power after the events of the game. Following the ending where Grace punched Athena, the goddess curses her to become a bird monster that can't speak, and therefore can't sing >:0 !!

A resurgence for Idols and insurgence from Athena means higher stakes god conflict!! This also means an expanded cast and one of the developments I like so far is the new Artemis. Name pending but she's blind!! Which I think will make her interactions with Medusa interesting, and also Laelaps will be more than happy to be a guide dog uwu 🦮

The real question is: do you trust her with a bow 🤨

Ask game in question btw

[unrivalling]

For the writing meme: 3, 9, 37

Sorry it took me so long to respond to this!

3. What are some tropes or details that you think are very characteristic of your fics?

This is such a good question. The most obvious one that leaps out to me is that I can't resist an atmospheric nature description, and I like talking about the animals that would realistically be in the environment around characters. My friends have routinely pointed out that I like describing the bird calls happening in the bg to accentuate silences between characters. It's very easily memeified, but I like doing it. I notice animals around me wherever I go, so it helps ground me in a scene. I think another characteristic is maybe...I like writing emotions that are really grounded in the body. Anger you feel in your chest. Fear you feel in an aching, icy inability to breathe. It's tricky because I think it can get repetitive easily, and sometimes it feels difficult to come up with a new way of saying "holy fuck he's afraid and his body is reacting", but I like it.

9. How do you find new fic to read?

I pick my favorite character or ship and search for tags of things I like: major character injury, whump, hurt/comfort, trauma recovery, major character death, and so on. If I find one of those that gives me The Good Hurt Feelings, then I might seek out something nice to take the sting out.

Other than that, I generally mostly end up reading within my creative communities. Ship discords I join, works posted by friends, and so on.

37. Promote one of your own “deep cut” fics (an underrated one, or one that never got as much traction as you think it deserves!). What do you like about it?

Ahaha. You're the second one to ask me this. I try not to get too caught up on numbers, because sometimes fics that I thought had weak launches have ended up having people approach me in discords and say they loved it. Plus, I realize I've been writing in a kind of "I'm a shark and if I stop swimming I'll die" Stephen King approach to writing, so as soon as I publish something, I'm usually pushing on to the next thing (note: I don't recommend this). I think I'll bring out Feather & Bone from when I was writing mostly FE3H. To be clear I think it got a lovely response, but I developed a lot as a writer while working on this fic and it was written off of a prompt from and with input by some very good friends, so I'm really fond of it. I'm definitely a stronger writer now than I was when I wrote it, but I consider this fic a big part of why I'm a stronger writer now.

[varley-of-torment]

The ride back to the Monastery was tense, lacking the chatter of victory. The Blue Lions had defeated another crew of bandits, but one key member was leaving much worse for wear.

Mercedes had been stabbed with a poison dagger.

It is here. My ultimate merceleth fic.

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Trauma Recovery, Friends to Lovers, Character Study

This fic is already done! it is about 21k words, and I will be posting each chapter individually until it is done, maybe every two or three days. 

(CW: The first chapter has some light body horror)

[onyxedskies]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Minor or Background Relationship(s) Characters: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert, Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Yuris Leclair | Yuri Leclerc, Minor Characters Additional Tags: Torture, Kidnapping, Drugs, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert Needs a Hug, Felix Hugo Fraldarius Needs A Hug, Post-Canon, Post-Azure Moon | Blue Lions Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Anxiety Attacks, Trauma, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt, Whump, Heavy Angst Summary:

He can’t block the memories out anymore. It never really worked, for Ashe, but it’s all worse now. Vivid. Too dark. Too real. Vivid. He replays things, wondering if he can pick out where it all went wrong. He always has, but this is different. He can’t push them away and focus on something else anymore. He knew Felix was having the opposite problem, could tell by the way his eyes were always clouded, by the way he repeated things over and over.

[misselko]

Unlike my previous works, this one has a rather dark theme. Learned a lot from trying to write this. I hope you like it, though! Any likes, comments, or reblogs are very much appreciated!!

Special thanks to @mommymooze who always give me advices on the plots and beta-read my writings. You always bring the best in me!

Warnings: MINORS DNI!! Heavy angst, graphic depictions of violence, degradation, kidnapping, rape/non-con, torture, fluffs.

OUTSIDER

Warm lights come to the sky rushing into bursts of colours, the sun peeks over through as the world lit up. Buildings shine like stars as light pours into windows and trees, bringing life over the monastery. Dawn is always beautiful and cheery with those chirping birds, unlike your heart. The sun rises slowly as you’ve been thinking that all that happened in these past week is always the same.

“That should be enough. Get some rest now, (Y/N)”. Professor Byleth gives you a soft tap on your shoulder that puts you out of your reverie abruptly. Parting with cheerful good morning and light-hearted small talks, you stride back to your quarters from your night patrol duty. It has been a rough week with little to no sleep for you.

Professor Byleth has recruited you and assured Edelgard that you are a capable fighter and can be trusted. Thanks to the Professor’s encouragement, Edelgard agreed to welcome you into Black Eagles. You have joined the Black Eagles Strike Force for several months now. However, always so vigilant, she asks Hubert to keep you under his watchful eye, much to her discretion. Suspicion still runs deep within the Black Eagles, especially Hubert von Vestra.

Hailed from the barren land of Faerghus, everyone is having a hard time to put their trust in you. As a victim of the unjust Crest system, you despise the fact that your father tried to sell off your hands in marriage to the nobles that sought your Crest. You agree with Edelgard’s ideal of a fair world without Crest system and to fight with Black Eagles because you believe in them. But sadly, they don’t.

It’s not that everyone treats you badly. But they make you feel left out, lonely, and cold. Like an outsider. Edelgard is too busy with her own war preparation and puts you under Hubert’s constant watch. Both are always so wary and cautious. It’s kind of unsettling, sometimes. But you get used to it now.... Caspar and Ferdinand barely register anything going around them. Being distant, Caspar is always busy with his training regimen. Ferdinand is occupied with his noble duties and teatime most of the time. Being put under Hubert’s watchful eyes makes Petra and Dorothea feel afraid to talk too much to you. As a commoner and political hostage, they have a huge disadvantage and are too afraid to irk the Emperor’s loyal retainer’s ire. Lindhardt is being ignorant of you because he doesn’t want to intervene. Sweet Bernadetta tries to talk with you sometimes during dinner time, but when you smile back, she will always scamper away, saying sorry over and over again. Professor Byleth is the one that always tries to look out for you. Either accompany you in your lookout duty, eat together, ask to join them for a cup of tea, or remind you to take care of your health.

Due to your background, Black Eagles hardly ever tell you whenever they would move or act, making you uneasy and had to be always on guard so you won’t be left behind. They rarely let you participate in important or decisive meetings, let alone listen to your suggestion for plans, or even cut you off when you’re speaking. In order to participate in meeting and battles, you have to be constantly on the alert for when the team is getting together or leaving the base. It happened a lot in the last months and you don’t want another.

That’s why you decided to spend most of your days maintaining everyone’s weapons, horses, and pegasi; while training and monastery guard duty keep you busy at night. It’s nice to have something to do to keep you stay awake and it wouldn’t hurt to help everyone as much as you can behind their back. You want to be helpful.

But after a while, you get severely sleep deprived because every time you try to fall asleep, you start worrying that the team is leaving you behind, doing something without you. Juggling between sheer exhaustion and lack of sleep, you start to feel unwell. Weariness starts to catch up and before you realize it, you have caught a severe cold now.

This won’t be good! From a meeting that you attended last evening, Edelgard told everyone that an important battle will come on Saturday. Getting sick is not an option. There’s still some days before Monday. Decide to try to sleep it off, you hope the sickness will go away somehow. It wouldn’t be good if someone knew this. What if they think of you as a burden? Locking your quarters, you hope no one finds out about your high fever. Sleeping through Monday till Friday, you barely have energy to leave your quarters. Thankfully the fever breaks off in the morning before the battle.

....Or so you thought. Arduous long path, hard terrain, and gruesome battle brought back the fever in full force, rendering you unfocused in your battle. You are feverish and dizzy, but you hold your position with no complaint. Fortunately you were far from the others, so they can’t hear your cough and wheeze for air. It gets worse and worse. Your cough gets heavy enough to hurt, and it feels like your throat is ripping right out with it. Sweats are beading on your temple, knuckles white and clammy as you breathe hard to tighten your grip on your spear. Deafening clashes of weapons fill the battlefield as you land another sharp blow through numerous enemies.

Smoke billowed, thick and gray, like the smoggy wool of Death’s robe. Screams and clanging metal filled the air with deafening cacophony. You are disoriented, lost amid the fervent slashing and piercing, desperately trying to keep track of your surroundings. You can barely see Dorothea shoot a Thoron out of the corner of your eyes. “I won’t go down so easily!” Heavy crackles of lightning run from her hands to attack the enemies around her.

It’s hard to get a clear view amidst the sea of flames and heavy smoke from nearby forest across Garreg Mach. Dorothea is having a hard time to defend herself from some assassins and warlocks. Hubert is closer to her but he got his hands full assisting Edelgard to fend off some Paladins. This won’t do. Slashing your way through her enemies, you ask Dorothea to retreat and help Edelgard instead. Dorothea nods thankfully as she runs to heal the Emperor.

Sweltering heat and your fever makes you feel sick and nauseous. It takes a lot of effort to remain focused on the battlefield as your head is pounding violently with dizziness. You see an enemy ambush from the bushes, but your cold and clammy hands feel limp as you are unable to parry their violent strike. That was the last thing you could remember before a sharp jab hits your side, slamming you to the ground harshly. Loud cries escape from your lips as the Fortress Knight crush their boots on your chest, blurring your vision. You can hear Hubert’s screams as your limp body is hoisted on someone’s shoulder before you fall unconscious from the intense pain. What’s going on...?

---

Hubert frowns deeply as he comes to Edelgard with downcast eyes. “Emperor Edelgard, now that the battle is over, I must report a truly shocking news. (Y/N) was taken by the enemy. She was holding on her own after saving Dorothea from an enemy ambush for a while.” He shakes his head solemnly as slender fingers encased in white gloves pressing up against the bridge of his nose. “However, when I glanced back, I saw an enemy had captured her on his shoulder. My apologies. I, of all people, should be able to prevent this.”

“.... This battle is far from over,” Edelgard shakes with barely contained rage, Aymr clatters beneath her grip.

---

You twist and pull uselessly at the iron around your wrists, arms high, panting with the effort of not screaming your pain. You knew it was useless but you thrashed anyway as a War Master cracked a whip viciously against pale skin, leaving reddening stripes behind that bleed from your arm.

“Again, I ask you, which route that Black Eagles Strike Force will take to assault Fhirdiad?” The heavily built Great Knight leans forward and grips your hair, forcing your head up and back, knife in his other hand. The small blade traced the line of your cheek, drawing a red ribbon of blood that ran down your throat. “Nn- Nnh!!” You can only grit your teeth as tears sting your eyes. “I'm not going to tell you anything.” The salt from your tears burned all down the cut on your cheek but you couldn’t answer. Putting the knife away, he cups your face in his rough palm, staring down at you intently. You barely held your own head up, but you managed it, staring back at your captors. There are three people that surround you with a malicious grin. A muscular Great Knight, stout War Master, and a thin Mortal Savant. They have lion insignia from your homeland on their armor.

You couldn’t give it. You knew what you were being asked. They never told you directly but you can pinpoint it from several previous meetings that you managed to attend. Only a handful of the Black Eagles Strike Force knew about this diversion tactic. In order to secure a successful invasion of Fhirdiad, Black Eagles will launch a raid on the Fortress City of Arianrhod, which occupies a key position on the border between the Adrestian Empire and Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. It wouldn’t stay unknown for more than a handful of days, of course, but that was all the time the army would need to prepare and strengthen the force to attack. If you let that location out now, it will be a massive blow to Black Eagles. And you will never allow it to happen.

It’s been nine days since you were captured and taken into this cold, dingy room with one small window that looks out on the sky. The walls are slightly damp, a feeling of coolness emanating from the space. Everyday is getting worse than before. You can’t even remember when the last time they gave you something to eat. Was it three days ago? Not to mention that they barely let you get enough rest with these constant beating. ‘Will they come to save me? No... Black Eagles won’t bother to come looking for an outsider like me, probably they are happy now that I am gone. It won’t be a surprise if they think of it as a good riddance.’ Still, despite the clawing sadness in your heart and their cold shoulder treatments, you will never betray them. Resigned to your fate, you try to gulp down the loneliness that claws at your throat.

“The way you wield your spear....  you came from Faerghus, I can see it as clear as a day. To defect to the enemy, selling your own country. You are guilty of treason.” Cracking his knuckles, the War Master smirks as he slams his fist against your leg violently. The blow drove breath from your lungs, a loud sickening crack of bone can be heard as it tears a scream out of you. “How can you stoop so low? It’s blatantly obvious that nobody really cares what happens to an Imperial dog like you.” A Mortal Savant sighs, letting out a low chuckle as she gazes at you coldly before swinging her katana at your abdomen. You gasp in shock as blood splatters on the cold floor like a spray. A large gash was split open from your navel to hip, glistening red like a mouth open wide. “If your team cares about you so much, why haven't they come to rescue you? They don't care about you. They WON’T come to get you. Pathetic.” Her friends jeer like spectators at her words. Their grin widened as she twistened her katana further, eliciting another pained cry from you. “No one is coming for you.” White hot pain ripped through you as the blade sunk into your stomach with an ironic resemblance to the way her words drilled into your head. You didn’t know which hurt more.

“So," She leans closer, staring straight at your eyes, asking again, almost gently. “Which route?” Staring back at your captor, you only shake your head. “My answer remains the same,” you said between ragged breath and coppery metallic taste in your mouth. Her fake smile dissipates into nasty smirks as she grips your hair and slamming your skull to the brick wall several times. “Your eyes, they still have that little light flickering in them. I believe some call it hope. Don’t worry though, we’ll drown that out as soon as we can.” She laughs, dry and mirthless then waves her goodbye to her colleagues casually as if torturing someone were a common occurrence for her. “Stupid girl. You did this to yourself. Guess that’s the end of it. Do whatever you want to her. I’ll go and tell the Commander about her stubbornness.”

Pain crashes down on you, arching your back and blurring the world. Squeezing your eyes shut, you try to ignore the feel of a warm trickle of blood down your neck a few moments later. Exhausted and bleeding, you are barely able to stand on your broken leg. “Now,” The knight unlinks the chain connecting your wrists to the shackles to the wall, sending you sprawled on the ground as your legs give up on you. Cupping your face, his eyes rake over your body hungrily. “You’re quite the eye-catcher. We’ve been feeling really pent up lately and in for a much needed… release. Maybe you will be more willing to speak after we have some... fun?” He looks at you over in a way that makes you shudder. His friend nods eagerly as he saunters his way over to you again.

“Please d-don’t… Just don’t, n-not that,” you whimper, fighting desperately to get away, but your broken leg is restrained and trapped underneath him. The War Master licks his lips hungrily as he drinks in the horror on your face. “Don’t fret now, little darling. We will do you good,” he drawled, sheer lust dripping from his voice. He holds your face in place by your chin with a vice-like grip cold as ice and locks your lips together, melting into the warmth of your mouth with a deep groan. “Delicious little thing,” he moaned, muffled against your lips. Sweet as honey, warm and soft, and helpless for him. He pulls back with lust filled eyes and cheeks damp with your blood and tears. Your little body was shaking all over. “Please don’t do this to me.”

Both of them simply respond with a smile as the Great Knight shoves you onto your back, pushing the fabric of your blood-soaked, tattered robe up and out the way until you are laid bare and sobbing under him. He shamelessly exploits the moment to admire every inch of you he could take in. “Can’t believe I finally get to do this. What a gem,” the man sighs happily as he gropes and sucks on your breasts. Relishing every scream and whimpers from you who are pleading between choked off sobs, his friend rakes his eyes over your nude body as if it were the most intricate thing he’d ever seen or touched. The men’s lascivious expressions confirmed your horrid foreboding as they freed themselves from the all too restricting fabric. Ignoring the agonizing pain, your blood smeared across the cold floor as you tried your best to crawl away from them. The knight’s smile broadens as he yanks you above him, hands grip you down tightly. “Don’t worry, baby. Gonna fuck you open nice and slow.” A loud yelp escapes you when the War Master leans his entire body weight on top of your already helpless form, practically sandwiching you between them. “Let’s see this as an appetizer before the feast.”

You couldn't stop yourself from screaming as they push into you, forcing themselves deep inside your aching, naked body. Their large frames are covering yours, hips thrusting in and out of you at a brutal pace. Both men guffawed at your choke off muffled grunts and pleas between wretched moans of agony. The pain is blinding and intense beyond words. “Oh, oh my- aah, mm… This is fucking heavenly. How does it feel to be our little cocksleeve, kitten?” The War Master groans as he pounds into your pussy erratically. Responded with a fearful mixture of a shriek and a gasp, you can’t muster a single coherent thought anymore. It’s hard to struggle against their bodies as they had you perfectly trapped beneath them with a dead grip. Every single moment you thought it couldn't get any worse and time and time again you were proven wrong as the pain and humiliation reached new heights. If only your captors have an ounce of chivalry that runs deep in the people of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus.... As your eyes slid involuntarily closed, you are sure that you won’t survive this night. Tears silently roll down your cheeks as you plead to Goddess Sothis for a merciful swift death instead of this degradation, deep down in the back of your mind.

Mind hanging somewhere between conscious and not, you discerned a clicking sound over moans and lewd squelches in the air. It must have been wishful thinking. An illusion to ease the pain. It couldn’t really have been... the set of keys clinking outside? The sound from the lock was more audible this time and your eyes perk up involuntarily. Oh my God. Metal door flew off its hinges and large dark purple flames burst forth into the room, hitting the man above you in a blinding flash. A blue-haired man hit both of your captors, dragging them off of your limp body and slammed the men onto the floor. Unintelligible yelling filled the small room as weapons clashing, loud shouts, and several footsteps filled the room. You lost all sense of what was happening and how fast.

Suddenly gloved hands glide and cover you with a black and maroon cloak. “Repugnant people.” That voice... sounds like Hubert’s? Those words were filled with such revulsion and animosity, stark contrast with the gentleness on his fingers. He handled you as if you were made of glass and could shatter with even the slightest pressure. Suddenly Death Spike T rains over those perverts, a huge Bolganone follows and burns them to their demise. It was a true depiction of... gruesome death. Caspar? Ferdinand? Hubert? And that Bolganone... Dorothea’s? Is it.... Black Eagles Strike Force? This feels like a dream. It must be.

“I’m so sorry,” Dorothea whispers as she sits beside you, gently wipes the blood on your face and mixtures of liquids on your body. You can hear her sniffles between never ending apologies. “I-I’ll help you get dressed, okay?” Edelgard and Professor Byleth follows behind her, Aymr and Sword of Creator in their hands. Professor notices a shredded robe soaked in crimson on the floor, then gives their cloak to you. Ever so gentleman, Hubert and Caspar (he did after Dorothea glaring daggers at him) averts their gazes away as Dorothea and Edelgard bundle you up in layers upon layers of Hubert and Professor’s cloaks. “Thank you,” you blubbered out. Dorothea holds you tight against her own chest through every sob, every gasp, one hand resting gently at the back of your head. Bernadetta and Ferdinand come out from another dungeon cell with shock on their faces, then call for other Black Eagles Strike Force. “We need some urgent medical care.” Petra, and Lindhardt come from the hallway shortly after, their faces full of concern.

“We are sorry for taking so long, (Y/N). So many dead ends and misleading information. It’s almost impossible to pinpoint this dungeon,” Professor said. As gently as they can, they lift your head and place it on their lap before they help to clean and tend to your wounds with Lindhardt. Caspar, Ferdinand, and Hubert gasp when they see your nearly unconscious bloody form. Edelgard blanches when she sees your limp leg that bends at an odd angle. Up close, she can see the frightening state your fingers are in. She feels like throwing up when she realizes that they're mostly broken. Bernadetta keeps on apologizing to you profusely as Lindhardt is doing his best to heal you. It is clear as day that his face turns as pale as sheets when he sees blood keep on oozing from your abdomen, growing into a puddle of blood around you.

“Cease your worry, (Y/N). We have wiped out all of those that were torturing and giving you pain.” Edelgard’s reddened eyes glower at the burnt remnants of your captors. “We miss you dearly, our friend. Black Eagles have been taken you for granted, not knowing what we had until you were not there.” Her grasps feel warm on your cold ones. A single tear falls from her eye.

“Never... thought that everyone is willing to... c-come for me.....” your chest feels like it’s burning as you cough blood, voice small and hoarse, eyes flutter open a moment later. “Please r-rest assured.... I... d-didn't...tell them anything...” you croaked with the remnant energy you had. Your breathing had turned raspy long, blood flowed out of your wound like water out of a fountain on the marketplace. Sweat glistening on your brow as you shiver. “Of course we’d come. I-I... apologize for our poor..... tre... ment.. and co.... ulder....” Your can barely see the hurt and regret in Edelgard’s lilac eyes or make out of her words. You can hear your name being called, and although you want to answer, this time darkness claims you first. Footsteps sound and shouts are heard, but the world disappears as black spots dancing in your vision, consciousness faded into nothingness.

 

---

Sunlight streamed through the windows and highlighted the dust that floated through the air, the motes dancing like glowing glitter in the natural air currents of your quarters. It’s been three weeks since Black Eagles rescued you. Thanks to Lindhardt and Manuela, your leg is doing better now. They haven’t removed the bandage and cast though. It isn’t fully healed yet, but dragging it for a short walk is manageable now. Of course you’ll get an earful when someone sees you do that, though. Gaping maw of large gash on your abdomen had been reduced to a long, red line that criss-cross over old pink and white scars on your chest and abdomen from the torture. Several bruises of black and blue adorned your chest, but the broken ribs have recovered nicely. They still feel tender to the touch.

“(Y/N). Good afternoon.” There is a gentle knock at your door, and a deep baritone voice can be heard from the other side. That voice... Hubert? Fastening your nightgown, you make your way slowly to open it. Leg unsteady from weeks of disuse, you stumble as your damaged leg gives up on you when you turn the knob. “Don’t exert yourself.” Hubert hums, his cat-like eyes watching you for a moment before closing the door. Slender hands sliding to lift you gently, pulling you flush against him. He lays you on your bed carefully, then pulls a chair to sit in front of you.

To be honest, it is kind of enjoyable to have all of the Black Eagles visiting you in turn everyday since you regained your consciousness. Surprisingly, Hubert is the most frequent visitor. He may look intimidating but actually he feels like a parental figure to you. Hubert is like a dad of Black Eagles. But of course he’ll get upset if you tell him so.

“How do I get through that thick skull of yours? I can’t grasp the reason of why you keep on pushing yourself to maintain those weapons, horses, and pegasi. Especially with those bandages.” Pinching his nose bridge, Hubert points at your bad leg with menacing glare. It’s downright terrifying!

“Uh... it became a habit?” Fiddling with your hands, you try your best to look in his eyes. “How did you know, Hubert?”. He sighs and produces minutes of meeting from his inner cloak then hands it to you. Those papers are tied neatly with several detailed highlights and marks on it. Hubert’s immaculate penmanship makes it easier to read and understand. He even writes some little notes for you on here and there. How thoughtful of him.

“I am always watching over you, (Y/N). Now... You have Ferdinand’s gratitude for helping him with his weapon collections. Bernadetta always stalks me like a vulture to ask me to give you those embroideries as her token of appreciation from taking care of her horse. And... you have Petra and mine.... For looking out the pegasi.” Your eyes widened when Hubert’s hand fluttered on your shoulder gingerly, a genuine smile dancing on his lips. Is he.. trying to pat you? Sadly that smile dissipates quickly when he catches you looking at him with doe-eyes.

 “...Pardon my intrusion. I didn’t mean to....” Hubert pulls his hand in a flash as if he’d been scalded from the touch. You knew what he meant. He doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable like that... perverts that did such lecherous things to you. He takes a step back and turns his gaze away. “I cannot tell you how sorry I really am. I have failed to protect you.”

Smiling bitterly, you reach for Hubert’s hand and feel it goes stiff when you grasp them softly. You can sense his entire body tensing and stiff as a board. “It’s not your fault, Hubert. And... Thank you for your cloak on that day. For the first time... I felt warm and safe. I can’t thank you enough for saving me. Still, those people are right. I have committed treason against my own homeland and I’m the lowest. I... have nowhere else to go. My father tried to sell my hands off in marriage to the nobles that sought my Crest. Those who would... offer the highest dowry or land to him. I’m nothing but a pawn for him to use.” Tears glisten in your eyes as your knuckles turn white from grabbing your sheets. “That’s why I will do anything to help Edelgard to make a better Fódlan without an unjust Crest system. To put an end to all of this mess.”

Hubert gives you a light squeeze on your shoulder and a sincere smile. It was brief, almost non-existent but you are sure that it was there? Or is it just your imagination?

“We must fight to preserve what makes us human. Yes. It is our humanity that pushes us to step up and take the lead should the need arise. Fight for what you believe.” Produces a fine black silk handkerchief, he hands it to you. There’s a delicate embroidery of silver threads with his name on it. “You’re too kind, Hubert. I have so much to learn.”

“.... I’m glad you have joined Black Eagles. We will fight together and fulfill Emperor Edelgard’s ambitions to unveil a brighter future. Rest assured, Black Eagles won’t leave you. We would not ever do that. And you are not a burden, (Y/N).”

“How did you—!!?”

Exhaling sharply, Hubert gaze over the ceiling and closes his eyes as if pondering something. “When you were unconscious, you keep mumbling words like ‘No, don’t leave me alone, not again, please...’, ‘I will do my best, I promise I won’t be a burden.’, or ‘I didn’t tell them anything about the ambush plan ‘as Caspar and Ferdinand loaded you into a wagon that we brought to treat and get you safe to travel back here. It was....” His words died off when Hubert glanced at your quiet dejected form, head hung low with sadness and embarrassment. Clutching a hand over your chest, you try to chase away the bile that is threatening to rise in your throat. “Concussion, bruised ribs, broken leg and fingers, massive blood loss, and infected wounds. Things were bleak those two weeks. Dorothea almost lost it when Lindhardt told us that you may not be able to make it. She felt guilty tremendously because you saved her.”

“I will do it again in a heartbeat.”

“Just like how you who care for Black Eagles deeply, we do as well. Don’t be so reckless.” Hubert shakes his head, placing a hand on his forehead and hoping he could summon an insurmountable amount of patience. He would need it for this conversation. Folding his hands, Hubert’s imposing figure is looming over you. Now that he is closer, you can see visible darker circles beneath his chartreuse eyes. It was much darker than last month’s. Perhaps it’s true. Despite his frightening exterior, he does care for you a lot. “(Y/N),” he growls, "You have grown too comfortable with your misbehaviour. Risking your life to protect others is not the wisest thing to do. Perhaps that requires some proper rectifying. Not to mention that taking care of everything while neglecting your sleep for late training won’t be good for your injuries. Schedule a regular rest break here and there.”

“But... Is it okay? Do I deserve this? Can I? To have somewhere that I can belong, even after everything that I—"

“Perish that thought.” Hubert rose to his feet indignantly, voice filled with anger when he admonished you. The chair falls behind from sudden movement. “No one can choose their birthplace but you have my utmost respect for your loyalty towards the Empire. I mean it. If I don’t, I won’t bother to give you those detailed reports.”

Jaw clenched, you look into Hubert’s eyes - not exactly ashamed, but something. Warm and fuzzy feeling bubbling in your heart. It feels like a huge weight on your shoulders has been lifted. Cloud of doubts had been cast away. So that’s why Hubert always gives you his own handwritten notes. You have earned Black Eagles Strike Force trust. And his trust. Hubert laughs when you beam a smile at him cheerfully. Not a scary laugh, but a heartfelt one. “Looking forward to seeing you back at us when you're ready. Caspar will be glad to have you as a sparring partner. Dorothea, Bernadetta, and Professor do miss your light-hearted small chattering. Lindhardt will have a field day if he gets to be lazy and take care of one less patient. Petra and Ferdinand are eager to show you their gratitude for helping them a lot. And... Lady Edelgard would love to get to know you better. She wants to enjoy a cup of tea with you.” Hubert pauses and smirks, pronouncing next words carefully as if he is testing the waters. “But I know you are more into coffee, (Y/N).”

“Hubert, are you... a stalker?” You scoff at him with a deadpan expression. Yeah, nobody should know that coffee runs deep in your veins. Especially since you brew them in your quarters secretly every night to keep you awake. There’s nothing that eludes his watchful eyes.

“What a crude language. Let’s just say... You have piqued my interest, (Y/N). And as a fellow avid coffee drinker, it would be my pleasure to have your company. Set a time and I will join you.” You chuckle at his witty remarks. But yeah... it will be a nice change of pace. It must be fun to have someone to enjoy a cup of coffee with.

“A perfect coffee time. I am looking forward to it, Hubert.”

“Have a speedy recovery then, (Y/N). Black Eagles really miss you. And I do, as well.”

“So you can keep tabs on me like usual?”

“... Yes. Or in your words, it became a habit.” Rolling your eyes at his remark, Hubert clears his throat and thanks to the sun reflecting against his pale skin, you are able to see a fierce blush dust his cheeks. “You’re staring,” He said softly. “but to answer your question,” he glanced over the sky through the window then back to your smiling face, with a somber look on his own as he spoke, “Yes, it’s better than watching you dying because I let my guard down. You almost died because of my failure. Days get dull without your annoying good morning and idle prattle.”

Covering his mouth with his hand, Hubert turns his back on you. You can see tints of red over his ears, though. “Get more rest and get well quickly. I must take my leave now. Good afternoon.” He bows and strides out of your room quickly, unbothered by your dumbfounded expression. Maybe Hubert is not as scary as his imposing look. Where others saw a cold darkness, you can feel his kindness and warmth hidden beneath it.

[comfort-questing]

14. "just hold on"

inspired by Cosumosu's glorious FE3H art from day 8 that I simply can't stop staring at. @cosumosu thanks as always for sharing.

--

maybe he should have studied more Faith magic in the old days, when everything had made more sense. maybe... maybe there were other things he could have done to prevent this, or maybe nothing, nothing at all.

Sylvain took another deep breath in, the salt air of Derdriu Harbor mixed with smoke now; his dizziness abated for a moment, but the sharp pain in his side made him cough and gag again. the blood and acid taste in his mouth was almost familiar by now.

never mind. nothing to do about that now. he wasn't dying.

but Claude was.

his leader, his commander, his friend.

Sylvain had dragged him out of the way as the battle went on, to this corner of the docks between crates and old salt-stained stone wall. Claude's head lolled to the side, eyes closed, unflinching as Sylvain scrabbled back the ragged remains of his jacket to look closer at the wound. the sword in Professor's hands had slashed open his chest, from shoulder halfway to his hip, leaving splintered bone visible and bright blood spurting out with each effortful breath.

Sylvain hissed a breath in between his teeth, throat tightening with despair.

here in the momentary solace, the noise of battle dulling to a distant roar as his own consciousness became more and more slippery, he did what he hadn't done for years and tried to remember. remember Professor, and Manuela, and weekend lectures on healing, when he'd sat between Felix and Lorenz in the back row and tried not to fall asleep in the sunlight falling through the windows...

come on, Sylvain, think. what a fool he was, unable to help or save anyone, when he was the only one here, perhaps the only one left at all who would try to save Derdriu's fallen general now.

the fumbling half-recalled spell, incantation as shaky as the spell diagram he'd scrawled, did something anyway; about as much, or as little, as either of the healing potions he trickled between Claude's bloodied half-parted lips. enough to pin back together the shattered collarbone on Claude's left shoulder, and seal the dozen smaller gashes from the shards of his broken Relic bow; enough to make it so that each breath he fought for gained him at least as much air as blood, anyway. but the edges of the wound still gaped open and the color was still drained from beneath the tan of Claude's skin, his breaths rattling through punctured, collapsing lungs.

too late, too late. Sylvain blinked back tears, furiously, hopelessly. the Empire's trumpets were blowing, somewhere beyond their hiding place; someone would find them, soon, and he tried to tell himself it would be one of the others. but he had seen Hilda go down at the narrow bridge, screaming in laughter or tears or both as her axe shattered in a burst of light. and all the others had been holding the line further up, and met the enemy first.

maybe they were the last two Alliance commanders left, and it was only a matter of time until all was over. but it wasn't over yet. he leaned forward, clutching at his side, feeling blood welling hot between his fingers.

"Claude," he said, hoarsely, "listen to me, Claude..."

he wanted to tell himself that Claude's eyelids had flickered, under the mess of his bloodstained dark hair. he didn't know. at least he could hear his breaths still, slow and ragged, fading like the waves as the tide went out to sea.

"Claude... hold on. don't die."

alive was a start. they could work with alive. everything else would come later.

"...just... hold on. please."

[whumperofworlds]

Looking at you, FE3H.

[sushimango]

Whumptober 2021 - Day 21

That's where the bloods supposed to be

bleeding through the bandages / blood-matted hair

Of course it's Dimitri. Who else could it be,covered in wounds and blood.

[10000ducks-whump]

anyways i’m back on my bullshit

[whump-side]

Whumptober 2020

No 17. I DID NOT SEE THAT COMING Blackmail | Dirty Secret | Wrongfully Accused