world’s leading hubernologist

#FE3h

i've been seeing the r word a lot more frequently lately even by people on the left and personally i think we should leave that one in the past

Bernadetta steps closer, allowing the tarp to flutter behind her. When she turns to fasten it, ensuring it shall remain closed, Hubert takes note of the way her rain-soaked dress clings to her small frame. She leans forward, and Hubert's eyes follow the way her wet hair falls forward, exposing pale flesh at the nape of her neck. A small hint of skin at her back is exposed, and not for the first time, Hubert wonders what sort of muscles the dress must hide. Rain drips from the hem of her dress, and Hubert stares at several droplets that cling to her upper thighs and course over her muscular legs. "You, ah," he starts awkwardly, "You must be freezing." For a moment, he fidgets, unsure of what to say. She really ought to get out of her dress, but even suggesting such a thing to her under the guise of offering her dry clothes would be mortifying. Further, she had mentioned a report; she would not be here long, as much as Hubert wished he had the nerve to ask her to stay. In the end, he settles for, "Please, take my jacket." Bernadetta stands up a bit straighter at this. "R-Really?" she chatters. "Th-Th-Thank you!"

She steps forward, setting her parchment on Hubert's desk, freeing her hands. Hubert follows her gaze; the ink, it seems, has not run too terribly. She peels her gloves from her hands, and tucks them into the pouch that she wore, strapped around her right thigh. Her hands free, Bernadetta reaches for the eagle-shaped clasp that held her shawl in place, and undoes it, peeling the wet garment from her person. Hubert swallows hard. Without the shawl, her clavicle and the whole of her neck are exposed to him, and he forces himself not to stare at the hem of her dress, the way it clings to her-- "C-Can you, um, take this..?" "Oh! Yes, of course, yes," Hubert replies awkwardly, taking hold of the garment and offering her his jacket in exchange, embarrassed at his lapse in good sense.

Good sense, however, proves to be further from Hubert's grasp than he would have liked. On his own body, Hubert's jacket ended at the tops of his narrow thighs, but on hers, it reaches nearly to her knees. She rolls up the sleeves to allow herself free use of her hands, and Hubert is taken with how much the color black suits her. In another life, perhaps she'd have worn it daily, walking abreast of him, sharing a dream, a House, a life. Instead, all he can hope for is to be mourned by her. When he is slain, whether gored upon Areadbhar, cleaved in two by the Lance of Ruin, or perhaps skewered upon the Sword of Seiros, all that Hubert can dream for with regard to her is that Bernadetta will grieve for him. "Well, um...I suppose I'll, uh, g-give you my report, then?" "Right," Hubert answers immediately, his thoughts snapping back into the present, away from the fairytale of a life where she loves him, where she wants him, the way that he has wanted her for nearly the whole of this war. "It is the guidance on where your archers ought to be placed, is it not?"

bonus wip of Hubert in the “sad-horny-loverboy” tornado. oh BROTHER this guy STINKS

out of everything I ship in 3h, I would actually say flignatz induces the strongest level of what I’d call Cuteness Aggression. believe it or not hubernie does not actually cause me Cuteness Aggression (probably because Hubert is Not Cute)

but I would really love to hear my mutuals’ “I ship them happy” “I ship them doomed” and “I shipped them divorced” ships. and, if you have any that are all three, what are they?

on the topic of Flayn ship week, flignatz is another of my Cozymaxing ships. I really like the idea of them happy together but don’t really ship them in any other context

Tumblr post by user hubernies (me). It says: I do think it's fun to pick apart my own Ship Psychology in that there are quite a few ships that I ship in a context of being happy and in a relationship where things turn out well for them in the end. A few I enjoy in the context of Greater Forces causing them to end in tragedy. And quite a few more where I ship them in a relationship where things go terribly wrong as a result of how they treat each other. Like for example, my favorite Blue Lions ship is Ashedue, and I only enjoy it in the first context. They need to be Cozymaxing. Predictably, of everything I enjoy, Hubernie is the only one I enjoy in all three contexts. While I demonstrably prefer them in a relationship where things turn out happily for them, I find a lot of fascination in other avenues. I love the idea of Bernadetta dying in front of Hubert at Gronder and him knowing going into it that her chance of survival is almost nothing. He knows one of the possible outcomes is that she burns at his hand. But he also can't risk trying to talk her out of the battle, either, and so he has to try and act normal knowing he will probably never see her alive again.

Same post, continued; I enjoy the possibility of them getting their paired ending and then something terrible happens to one of them because they decided to devote much of their married life to fighting in the shadows, and the other person has to accept returning to a life of not being seen. It's horrible and sad and great. (I wrote the genuine threat of this outcome twice, but both times, things turned out more or less fine because l am a Loser) And I also enjoy the dynamic of them not working out because Bernadetta cannot handle not being put first. She's been put last her entire life, worse than last in many cases, and she doesn't know why she thought it would be different with Hubert but, when it wasn't, she blew up at him and didn't give him a chance to fix things with her. I read a great fic where this happens but Hubert eventually manages to come back from this. Either way, I love the idea of Hubert's sheer lack of emotional intelligence causing him to screw up with the person who needs the gentlest hand of anyone he knows.

posted about this on tumblr a while ago but I wanted to share it with the class because I am finally writing hubernie as Not Happy and Healthy

and then when Ignatz says he sees her face when he thinks of Saint Cethleann, she’s like “am I not more breathtaking than her?” and Ignatz is like. “well you are certainly a sight to behold 😊” UGH it’s so CUTE

I really love how Ignatz is trying to find books on Saint Cethleann so he can paint her with more personality, and when Flayn finds out she says “Ah, so you are hoping to find out what type of girl she was?” and then proceeds to tell a lengthy story about herself. it’s so cute

if flignatz has no fans I am dead

I am positive there is hubernie of this I will find it!

however, as the current dialogue about ao3 engagement suggests, I am at my heart a person who wants other people to enjoy their work too, so it's rather encouraging to create something people liked more than I expected, even if it's not my usual fare

I personally LIKE writing established relationship porn because I am at heart a deeply romantic person and also I do find it both romantic and sexy to A: still be really into the same person years in and B: know what to do for that person and not even need to open your eyes

it's funny to me to see all the nice comments that the wip of my current hubernie got on tumblr. it's my first time writing them having sex where they’re not in an established relationship that's going decently. year 7 in the hubernie mines and I finally accept the people yearn for Sad and Unhealthy

“megan stop posting about how mitski put hubernie cocaine in her new album” listen yall knew what you came here for

death speaking politely despite the fact that the situationship is only consummated on floors. the reclusive speaker actively and intentionally choosing actions that make her miserable and death keeps answering her summons because it knows one day, she will want them to stay.

I’m sorry I keep posting about the new mitski but the song where Death repeatedly answers the reclusive speaker’s summons and they have a toxic situationship, after which the speaker opens their box of “misery, my secret treat” before resuming being a recluse. did activate me like a sleeper agent.

petradue hopes support I am ill

happy birthday to my thing

おしくら饅頭でおもろい

like girl get up

approximately two seconds after hearing what Marianne’s life dream is, Bernadetta declares an intent to *novelize this life’s dream* with the intent of seeing the heroine happy

Bernadetta and Leonie’s Houses B support is, in terms of its Adrestian Excellence, rivaled only by Bernadetta’s support with Marianne wherein she tells Marianne she hopes to write a novel about Marianne’s dreams coming true

although to be fair I would be doing this activity whether or not you made this post 😂

I am having fun imagining the bus coming to an abrupt stop and causing Hubert to tumble down the aisle like a poorly thrown bowling ball

do you ever get like 10k into a fic about a ship with under 10 fics and then take a break from writing it to write your otp having emotionally unhealthy and physically unsafe sex or is this a unique bsky user hubernie experience

People will be like “AO3 gives me life” and then say they don’t read works in progress, don’t comment because they “don’t know what to say”, and actively despair when fics get abandoned and writers quit writing.

I wrote, in total, about 2k over the course of two sit down sessions due to the hubernie cocaine that is the latest mitski

Hubert cannot rid himself of the sense that this is to be his final night alive. He had known for weeks that the final vestiges of the Kingdom army were moving to intercept the Black Eagle Strike Force as they marched toward Fhirdiad. A simple comparison of the speed of Dimitri's army versus that of Lady Edelgard made a clash at the Tailtean Plains nearly certain, and with it, the likelihood of an encounter with Rhea. And now, the night before their armies were to collide, rain had begun to fall, thick and fast, lashing against the tarp of Hubert's tent, its cacophony a terrible omen. Hubert was a tactician, both by nature and via years of education. Unfavorable weather in hostile territory was a lethal combination, so much so that one's only hope of overcoming it was to be equipped with far superior numbers and tools. Therein lay another problem. If the intelligence that his operatives had intercepted was correct, Rhea had finalized the restoration of gollum-like automatons, a Kingdom invention intended to fight on behalf of the Church. The combination of these wicked tools, and the promise of Areadbhar, the Lance of Ruin, and their wielders, was a terrifying one. In tandem with the conditions upon which their army would collide with that of the Kingdom, it was clear to Hubert that theirs was nothing short of a suicide mission.

Retreating, however, was also not an option. Dimitri would chase Lady Edelgard to the very gates of hell. Hubert had every confidence that Edelgard could, and would, best Dimitri in single combat; the peerless tactical insight of their Professor was an additional boon. However, Hubert knew that such a battle would claim the lives of allies, and that, with a certainty that ached at his very bones, he would be counted among the dead. Such a thing was inevitable. It was the fate of all wartime Vestras to die for their Emperor. The moment Lady Edelgard had confided her intention to reforge the world, Hubert had mentally engraved an early date of death upon his tombstone, with solemnity, with pride. Though it was his duty to protect her, upon one battlefield or another, the time would come to give up his life for hers, for her grand ambitions. Faced with such impossible odds, Hubert is keenly aware that the inkwell which wrote the tale of his life was rapidly running dry.

Dying young invariably left dreams unfulfilled, affairs not settled. Presently, his head aches with the weight of such a thing. Could anyone be trusted to spearhead the struggle against Those Who Slither in the Dark in his absence? Jeritza had the stomach for it, but not the tactical prowess. Byleth had the wit for it, but Lady Edelgard loved her too much to remain above the fray. Ferdinand would be too sorely needed in above-ground affairs. There was someone whom Hubert had, for years, privately dreamed might accompany him into that eternal night, dance with him in those shadows. But she was too warm, too kind, too beautiful. Such a fantasy was further out of reach than the Goddess' ears had been from Her Majesty's lips. Sooner would Rhea forgive his professor than would Hubert earn the affections of-- "H-Hubert?" Bernadetta calls from outside his tent. "C-C-Can I c-c-come in? It's, um, m-my report....!" Hubert can imagine the sound of her teeth chattering in the cold and rain. He rises, pushing the feeling aside, and peels the tarp back for her.

top ten healthiest mindsets to be in immediately before sex by the way

Thank you so much!