#How elders are like... treated as a group in WC

[bonefall]

Living for the Grandma Mistystar designation because she's grandma in such a specific way. Like she's been around forever and goes on and on and we know and love her and she lived through The War™ and had a hard life, etc, but sometimes things come out of her mouth that make it VERY OBVIOUS that she attributes the horrors she lived through to a bad person, a bad group, as opposed to the culture in which she lives, and therefore doesn't really have the right takeaways. So there's grandma telling you stories and then she says some shit and it's like "Grandma Mistystar didn't you literally survive an attempted half-clan genocide. The fuck are you on about." But also she's old as hell and you know she loves you and you love her so you just sort of sit uncomfortably in her living room and drink your tea. Literally an old-ass woman who lived through hell and still votes Conservative. I'm obsessed with her.

The old grandma characters in BB have my entire soul. They've all been through AWFUL shit, they came so close to the right conclusions, you love them SO much but then they drop some shit that makes your skin crawl. What can you do with that?

You can see a bit of progress with cats like Mousefur, but even then, it's never in the exact way you were hoping for. It goes from, "foreigner Bad" to "Some foreigners Not bad." But progress is progress, right...?

It's a sort of hopeless feeling, but not strong enough to tip into despair. The world is changing and they're remnants of the old one. You have to fight them when they try to drag it back, but totally changing their person is an unwinnable battle.

[hannieehaee]

Hiii i love your writing sm that is always look forward to anything you write . Pls remember to take care of yourself .

Imagine chan having a younger s/o , doting on her , taking care of her protecting her 😭😭😭😭 it would be so cute

them having a younger s/o

content: small age gap between reader and member, established relationship, etc.

wc: 1056

a/n: thank u hehe u take care too!! <3 also i wrote this assuming the age gap is nothing too crazy!! just something like 3-5 year difference for hyung line and 2-3 year difference for maknae line c:

masterlist

seungcheol -

he was MADE to dote on and care for a younger s/o. his credit card would literally be your own. his home would be yours. would treat you akin to kkuma in the sense that he'd coo at you incessantly any time he was away from you for more than a few hours and would love dressing you up in cute outfits to match his own (in a low-key, fashionable way, of course). he'd adore a younger s/o because he'd feel like he could really provide for you with both his wealth and wisdom.

jeonghan -

being the one of the elders of the group and having a younger sister, he's literally been trained for a younger s/o. im completely convinced he'd adoooore a younger s/o that he could dote on and baby in every possible instance. he'd use his preschool teacher voice on you all the time and coo at you so much that you'd literally have to beg him to stop. at some point he'd start doing it just to annoy you lmao.

joshua -

tbh i feel like he would be kinda indifferent about you being younger than him, but would still acknowledge it at times. would coo at you and baby you in exaggerated manners to tease you over being younger than him. but! this would just be a veiled way for him to take care of you.

jun -

how is he supposed to baby you when he's the embodiment of baby himself? however, the creator of the aegyo cat set would still manage to coo at you and attack you with constant aegyo to show his affections towards you. all in all, though, i think he would be a lil indifferent about you being younger than him. maybe it'd inspire a little extra protectiveness from him, making him always keep you close to him in public spaces and use his massive shoulders to shield you from crowds or any danger.

soonyoung -

he'd baby you at times but for the most part would be pretty indifferent about being older than you. however! he would let his childish/immature side come out more often while around you, reasoning that you brought out his more youthful side. would probably match your energy at all times. he'd 100% use the 'im older than you' card to try and win arguments/disputes (it wouldnt work).

wonwoo -

absolutely endeared by you!!! have you seen the way he looks at chan? if you were around chan's age, he'd give you the chan treatment but a thousand times over. would cackle at any joke you made, always keep his adoring gaze on you, bring you snacks even when you didnt ask for them, make space for you on his lap whenever he played games or watched movies. you'd be his baby.

jihoon -

he'd try to hold back for a while, but he'd eventually break and feel an instinctive need to take care of you in a way he would a younger member. even if you were a very independent and self-reliant person, he would still take care of you in his own low-key way. would make sure you always had all your meals, make space for you in his studio and provide you entertainment so you could accompany him in there in the long hours of the night. he'd feel a special type of love for you knowing he could dote on you so freely.

seokmin -

he'd be obsessed with you!!!! would baby you constantly and take care of you in every way imaginable. youd also kinda activate his cuteness aggression without him realizing. he'd wanna be the one and only man to protect you and become a rock for you to rely on. would feel happy and proud to be a person you trusted and someone you could look to whenever you needed.

mingyu -

yet another member who would go insane over being older than you and use it as an excuse to baby you at any given opportunity. would treat you like loyalty and would act as if it was a crime if you ever did mundane stuff on your own instead of allowing him to do it for you. walking to the other side of the room? why when he can just piggy back you there!! packing your own lunch in the morning? nope! he's cooking you a whole meal!

minghao -

ive always felt like he'd go for someone younger just for the traditional aspect of it (idk i have no basis for this belief lmao just a hunch). he'd enjoy playing the role of the dependable boyfriend with a younger s/o to provide for and dote on. it'd just bring him a special type of satisfaction to know that you could look to him as a reliable source of comfort. would be the ideal boyfriend and take care of all your expenses and all your emotional needs.

seungkwan -

he'd be so damn overbearing in the way he took care of you im ngl. would keep tabs on your meals to make sure you had all your meals every day, would push vitamins on you, and just have huge concern for your health overall. he'd also feel insane cuteness aggression for you at the most random times, becoming overly affectionate and expressing how cute he thought you were (even if your age gap was teeny tiny).

vernon -

gives me the vibe that he wouldnt really care if you were older or younger. however, seeing the way he dotes on his little sister and gets along with her, i think he'd be similar with a younger s/o. wouldnt really bring up your age difference much but would still use it as the butt of jokes or use it as an excuse to take care of you at times in which he just felt a little extra affectionate towards you.

chan -

as the youngest, he'd love the idea of him being able to baby someone for once (ik he has a younger brother ok). would use the 'im older than you' line to death and be so fucking annoying about it. however, he would also feel satisfied knowing he was a dependable figure in your life who could take care of you in the same ways his members always took care of him.

[mikwaa]

I'll always miss you, you will shine like gold in my memory.

Zhongli x Reader

Wc: 2.7k

Warnings: Angst, hurt no comfort, reader dies. Toxic relationship, Morax is an idiot brute, this is set in the Archon war, reader is a warrior.

A/n: I had this draft written here a while ago, decided to post it because it's one I really like. As the old Morax is described as a more rough and ruthless person, I imagine that for him to change there had to be a major event. And so I ended up writing this, maybe I'll do another ending because I genuinely don't like sad endings, but it went together so well I decided to leave it like this.

"Morax, please listen to me." And there you were, in one of those endless fights with your husband.

The reason this time was that you had found a group of people, begging for a place to stay, since they were wandering around. This group had been exiled from Sumeru, the reasons were not yet clear, nor did they know why. There were children, elders, even young pregnant women, you couldn't just ignore them and let them die.

And you had offered them a home in the Guili Plains, the place where the Liyue population was housed. But Morax did not accept, nor did he seem to want to change his mind.

"I've said what I think, and I'm not going to change it." And he didn't even look at you, on the contrary, he walked even faster to distance more from you.

"Can you stop being so irreverent?" You quicken your steps and stand in front of him, stopping him from moving forward.

He narrowed his eyes in your direction, his face turning into an angry frown, "I told you, don't make me repeat myself. If you choose to save those people, you can forget about coming back. I don't want you around." His words were sharp as blades, wounding as such.

And seeing his face without a drop of expression, without a single regret. How could he say such impactful things as if they were nothing?

"How can you talk like that? I'm your spouse, I'm just trying to help." You could already feel tears forming in your eyes, he always acted like a brute, but there were times you couldn't even handle it.

"You can help me by protecting my people, not by harboring strangers." The coldness with which he spoke to you was abysmal, it didn't even seem like you had any kind of relationship.

"They are people too, they have feelings too. They are afraid to die, they are simply out in the open."

"I care what's mine, we're in a war, we can't save everyone. And I chose to take care of what is mine, my territory together with my people". He states, with that usual stoic face. With that arrogance and selfishness that would drive anyone crazy with rage.

"So that's still a no?" Breathing heavily you ask him one last time, the hope you had of him giving in had simply vanished.

"It was always a no. If you're going to keep talking about it, you can save both your time and mine." Snide and sharp, he never seemed to change.

"Then you won't want me here anymore, I suppose." To his surprise, you wouldn't give up. You would keep your word no matter what.

"Go ahead." Nothing more, not a sentimentality, nothing. Just treating you like you were just another one of his pawns, like you were just another one in the crowd.

A hot tear ran down your face, your heart burning as if it had been recently scalded.

"Are you really going to treat me like this? Like I'm nothing to you, and this ring means nothing?" You removed the ring, holding it with trembling hands.

The engagement ring, which he had made for you himself, was so beautiful. With jade detailing all over the ring, and even more precious was the message it had, 'It will always be you'. According to him, it was to show how much you meant to him.

And now? Were those beautiful words just thrown to the wind?

He huffed, looking incredibly upset and tired of this situation, but he didn't show you anything, he wasn't sad, sorry, guilty, nothing. As if none of this mattered.

"Have it your way." Completely indifferent he mumbles.

"Okay." You threw the ring away, without even looking at where it went," If it meant nothing to you, it meant nothing to me."

Now he seemed to take some notice of you, but was clearly displeased.

But there was no time for him to talk or complain to you, you ran out of there. He wanted to go after you, but the pride he carried in his chest was stronger.

A feeling of guilt invaded his heart, but he still wouldn't let his feelings get the better of him, because he believed that you would go back on your decision.

You wouldn't exchange him for a group of people you barely know, but that was exactly the point he didn't understand. It wasn't that he wouldn't help you, it was the way he dealt with certain issues. He was so focused and objective, that should be good, but it wasn't the case with him.

He always complained that you think too much about others, just as you complain that his behavior is often harsh and hostile. He believed that you would come back, but he was wrong, very wrong.

it had been three weeks since you had even dared to look at each other. He couldn't swallow his pride, and neither could you. That arrogance and selfishness he possessed could get on anyone's nerves, and you were not immune to it.

No matter how many times you tried to make him understand that things were not practical as he claimed they were, he would never understand, he was a real brute.

And that was the last straw for you, people were not objects that he could control as and when he wanted, and he didn't seem to want to understand that.

You had left the village, and had no desire to return. You had tucked yourself away in a simpler hut and in a place you suspected Morax wouldn't go near. Even though you loved him so much, you doubted if he would ever change.

It was so many doubts mixed with the anger you felt about the things he said, you took it out on the monsters you met in front of you, without letting a single one escape.

With quick and precise blows, you used your blade with an unmistakable dexterity. But even this was not enough for what would happen next. A monster that you didn't even know what it was hit you, and ended up hurting you.

You didn't even know where it came from, you didn't even have time to react. Your body heaved and you fell to the grass abruptly, as you felt a sharp pain run through your entire body.

And when you managed to stabilize yourself and look at the monster, it was no longer there. It had already turned to dust.

"You with this stubbornness. You can't even take care of yourself." From the familiarity in his voice, it wasn't hard to guess that it was your husband.

"Shut up." You mustered the strength to speak, it seemed as if your strength was draining away second by second.

Even in such a state, the weakness and frailty you were in didn't seem to make any commotion in Morax.

"If you knew you wouldn't be like this." So cold, so distant. Every word of his hurt so much.

How could he be so indifferent? So cruel.

"You won't even see your spouse? You won't even try to take care of me?" Even though you tried to sound strong and imposing, all that came out was a shaky, tired voice.

"I'm no specialist in this. Go find help somewhere else, I told you I don't want you around." It wasn't just anger, it was a feeling of someone who had been defied, you hadn't followed his orders, and he was hating you for it.

You had traded him, that's what he had in mind, but you didn't leave because of that. You loved him like crazy, and you had helped him in many ways. But he still needed to think more about others, trust humans more.

To learn to understand that people were not just pawns that he moved when and how he wanted, it was far from that. And now he was experiencing the fact that someone might not follow his orders, and that someone was you.

He went to look over his shoulder one last time, as he began to notice a pool of blood starting to form around you, he hurried his steps over to you.

"I have to take you, the healers will help." Bending down close to you he whispers. The sudden change in behavior that soon showed his desperation.

"You know they won't, there's nothing else to do." You couldn't control the tear that welled up in your eye.

It had been a very deep wound, you didn't need any healer to tell you that you were hopeless, the village was far away, there would be no time to get there. Several other warriors had died like this, and it would be no different with you.

His stoic expression turned to one of terror, his pride gone in a matter of minutes.

"Don't talk foolishness." He nestles you in his arms, carrying you so gingerly that it seemed he was afraid of hurting you with the slightest touch.

"Leave me here," he opened his mouth to protest, and you continued, "Please."

He propped you up on his chest, wrapping you in the clothes of his own body, so that you were properly protected.

"Why are you so stubborn? I can't understand you." For the first time you heard him speak in a broken voice, he was trying not to cry.

"I just want to save time, you know you don't have much to do." You gently caress his face.

He wanted to tell you so much, but he couldn't put it into words, ever.

"I shouldn't have acted like that." Finally, he admitted it. But now it was too late for any regrets.

You intertwined your fingers with his, smiling faintly. He could feel your strength fading little by little, and he could do nothing.

You were too fragile, just like all humans. And he could do nothing.

Nothing.

He couldn't believe it, how could a being as powerful as him be so powerless like that? That shouldn't be right, but it was.

"Please stay." He pleads, but how could you fulfill that request? His voice was so shaken it sounded almost unrecognizable.

For the first time he was losing one of his partners, he had always protected them all as best he could, and none of them had gone so far. But the first was you, his first big loss was you. How would he be able to handle it? No, he couldn't.

"I will never forget your eyes, they are so beautiful." You say softly, almost inaudible.

And he let a tear escape, all the armor he had made in his heart had broken, and he couldn't control it. It was the love of his life leaving, all he could do was watch, how could he be so useless at a time like this?

"Stay, keep your eyes open, I'll get help, I'll…" Not even he himself believed his own words, much less believed that you could save yourself.

He felt so much guilt, how could he have been so negligent? He had never been very sentimental, but now he felt it all at once.

He could hardly describe his exact feeling, because he had no exact feeling. Now he understood all the human emotions you spoke of, a pity he could only understand now, on your deathbed.

The birds were singing, it was a beautiful day, the sun had the most beautiful glow. And yet Morax was there, on the grass with you in his arms, crying in despair like never before. The blood that stained the green of the vegetation, and the pain that remained impregnated in Morax's soul.

And then, like one of those tricks played by fate, everything fell silent. Morax sobbed softly, and made one last plea, "Don't leave me, I really care for you. I love you, stay here." He held your hand tightly, seeing how small it was compared to his.

It was the first time he had been that clear, he had never really opened his heart to you, a shame that the first time he said 'I love you', you were no longer there to hear it.

And as soon as he realized it, a faint cry was all that came out of Morax's mouth, followed by an audible sob. He realized that you died there, nestled in his arms, holding his hand, so angelic.

His beloved had left him, eternally.

Millennia had passed since your death, 3.800 years to be exact. Yet this hurt Morax so much that he was never able to forget you.

Even though he left the Archon life aside, now going by another name, Zhongli, and leading a more modest life as a simple Liyue citizen, the memories he had with you were vivid, shining like gold in his memory.

He martyred himself every day, he blamed himself, a guilt that he would never be able to eliminate from his chest, he would give everything, even his life for you to come back.

And today this feeling was stronger than ever, because it was the day of your death, the day you left him alone in this world. Another year had passed, and even so it seemed like yesterday when you died, at least that's how Morax felt.

And as he did every year, he bought your favorite flowers, picked them carefully to make sure that you would like them. Plus he provided the wine of his choice, it was the only thing that made his mind clear on a day like this, even if he wasn't very used to all that drinking.

When he was ready, he went to your tomb, which was made in the Guili Plains, the place where everything began, and also where everything ended. He always kept your grave clean, after all he visited you every day, no matter how hectic his routine could be, he would always come to your grave daily.

"I missed you, my dear." He says these words to the wind, anyone passing by would think he was crazy, but he didn't care.

He always spent hours talking to you, talking about everything that had changed, and how he had changed. He always thought that no matter where you were, you could always hear him.

Gently he put the flowers on the grave, and sat down on the floor, while pouring himself some wine. "I just wanted to remind you that I love you, more than anything else."

On a day like today, he wouldn't even try to hold back the tears, or the pain in his chest. He caught himself thinking how proud you would be to see the progress Liyue had made, how beautiful the city looked now.

He wanted to show you that he understood what you said in the last minutes of your life, he wanted to show you that you had become a better person. This was due to a great influence of yours, who now was not here to accompany him on this journey.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry for everything I did, my beloved. You would think it magnificent the way everything has progressed, how humans could achieve so much." His voice choked, his face red as the tears came down without stopping.

'His beloved' , was so sweet when it came out of his lips, but so melancholy by the look in his eyes, those gentle golden eyes that expressed so much sorrow.

A love ended in such a way could hurt so much, and Morax knew it. He had experienced it so harshly, but he stood firm to keep the nation you two had fought so hard for standing, and he would keep fighting because he thought it was the way to repay you for all you had done for him.

Every time he remembered you crumbling in his arms, his heart squeezed in such a way. Your face paled along with your frail body, looking as if it would break at any moment. And with that he remembered how much he missed you in his arms, your laughter, the warmth of your body, your beautiful face.

He missed it all, and remembered these moments bitterly, but also joyfully, because he remembered when you were still with him.

He would protect the people at all costs, and keep everything safe as long as he was alive, he would watch over everything you believed in. He would gladly do this for the rest of his days.

Now all he could do was wait, wait for him to take his last breath. And then finally, finally he could meet you, and tell you everything that happened during those years.

[janeyseymour]

Have You Been Taking Care of Yourself?- a fanfic

prompt: Have you been taking care of yourself?

WC: 2044

It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for Jane Seymour to be seen around the house, around the theatre, around the town doing what she could for others. It was very rare that she ever took the time to take care of herself, although she would tell you that by taking care of others she was taking care of herself. 

“Okay guys,” Jane addressed the group as she loaded the dishes from dinner into the dishwasher. “So, tomorrow we only have a night show- no matinee. I’ll clean up around the house in the morning, but then I promised Val I would help out at the library for a little bit- you know just clean up some of the children’s sections and organize a bit. You know how kids can get.” 

The blonde closed the door to the dishwasher before forgetting that she didn’t put in the dish detergent. “Do you think you could all manage to get to the theatre on time? Because Joan wants to run that new little lick that she thought would go well in my song before we put it in. And then the next day, I think I’m going to volunteer at the food pantry in the morning before the shows, but I was thinking we could all have dinner after? I’ll cook. And oh, Kat: don’t think I’ve forgotten about that shirt I told you I would embroider.” She closed the dishwasher once more, this time loaded with detergent before pressing the start button. Turning to her family, she put her hands on her hips and looked at the youngest. “I’ll do that after the show tomorrow.”

“You sound like you really have your days planned out for the next few days,” Catherine noted diligently.

The third monarch grinned. “I like to stay busy. Now, I’ve got to go to my room to coordinate a few things for tomorrow with Val, but I’ll be sure to make my rounds before I head to bed. If you need me, don’t hesitate to knock, yes?” The other five queens nodded their heads, watching in wonderment as the woman dressed in grey made her way up the stairs.

“Does she-” Cathy started.

“There’s no way she doesn’t,” Anne finished.

“She’s well aware that Edward's birthday and her death day are coming soon. She’s doing what she can to distract herself,” Catherine stated as if it was obvious. “She isn’t ignoring it, although she’s doing her best to try.”

“How are we supposed to help her?” Kat wondered.

“I suppose we just let her live. If she wishes to distract herself, then sobeit. We just have to be there when she breaks.”

“I think we can do that,” the fourth queen affirmed.

A week had passed, and Jane was still on the move- desperate as ever to get her mind off of her son and her untimely passing. Only, it was getting harder. 

Any time she slept now, Edward haunted her dreams. Sometimes it was his birth all over again, the feeling of a three day labor returning. Other times, it was as though she was an angel watching over him as he mused his wishes for his mother to come back. Once it was the blonde boy confronting her angrily over her death- how could she leave him with such a horrible father, and wasn’t she supposed to be the first woman he would ever love; but he would never get that chance since she had the audacity to slip away from him before they could properly meet. 

The blonde had been making meals for the queens for days now- something that each of the other queens knew was Jane’s way of coping. The third queen was already in the kitchen cooking or baking more than the others ever were, but it was more and more that the house smelled of something sweet being baked. Jane never ate any of it; she gave it away instead to those that she loved: her family, the food bank down the road, those at the theatre she thought could use a pick-me-up. The thought of food at this point made the woman nauseous. Not knowing if she could stomach the food, she had resorted to supplementing with a protein shake before continuing on with her hectic days she had planned. 

“So, are we going to ignore Janey’s death day like she is or...?” the second queen questioned after the silver queen had excused herself from the table that night. Edward’s birthday had come and gone, and it seemed as though Jane was doing just fine.

“If this is how she’s coping with it- I know it isn’t necessarily healthy- but who are we to try to get her upset over it?” The writer wondered aloud.

“I’m not sure she’s coping with it very well though,” Kat sighed into her hand, half asleep. “Last night when I went to her room, she was wide awake. I didn’t think she’s been sleeping at night, so I stayed awake all night. She was awake too, until like five in the morning. I could practically hear the gears in her mind turning. Once she fell asleep, I did too, but when I woke up she wasn’t asleep anymore.”

“She was downstairs and saw me out for my run at six this morning,” Cleves muttered. “Has she not been sleeping at all these past few nights?”

“If you’ll excuse me, I think I have to go talk to Jane.” Catherine pushed herself up from her seat before beginning to make her way out of the room.

“Don’t you think-” Parr started.

“Querida, whatever is happening is far more unhealthy than Jane just letting herself break. Someone needs to talk to her,” the gold queen stated triumphantly before continuing up the steps and towards the grey room.

“Jane, love? Can I come in?” When the first queen heard no response, she assumed that the third queen was finally getting the shuteye she needed, but her light was still on. Turning the knob and letting herself into the room though, she found a puffy-eyed Jane Seymour awake and trembling.

“Oh honey,” Aragon sighed as she made her way across the room.

“I thought I could handle it this year,” the blonde winced as she busied herself with folding laundry. “If I just continued on like it was any other day, I thought I could handle it.”

Catherine plucked the shirt out of the trembling woman’s hands before folding it and placing it in the pile. Grabbing another, she asked, “Have you been taking care of yourself? Like, really and truly taking care of yourself? None of that ‘by taking care of others, I am taking care of myself’ shit.” Jane shook her head defeatedly.

“I haven’t slept more than two hours a night in the past two weeks, Lina. Every time I close my eyes, all I see is him.”

“Him?” The gold queen froze, the pants in her hands half folded.

The silver queen looked at Catalina for the first time since she entered the room before solemnly whispering, “Eddie.”

“Oh honey.” The pair of pants having been dropped to the ground, the elder queen embraced the third with all the love she could muster up. “You must be exhausted.”

“I am,” the younger monarch’s voice broke a little as she buried her face in the other’s shoulder. “I haven’t been able to eat either. I don’t think I can stomach anything at the moment, and I haven’t been able to since three days before his birthday.”

“When you went into labor,” Catherine sighed, a wave of sadness twinging through her for her friend. Jane nodded. “I’m so sorry, love. Why didn’t you-”

“Because I knew you would all dote on me, and I just don't know if I could handle that again. It’s like it makes it worse when you do. All that swims through my mind is Edward and the fact that I-” the younger queen pulled away from the woman dressed in yellow before mumbling, “-I failed him. I thought if I could take care of others, it would help me like it usually does but...”

“Querida, this is a completely different situation, and you did not have to go through it alone.”

“I’m sorry,” was all the troubled woman could breathe out.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for honey. But instead of taking this all on by yourself and constantly caring for others, why don’t you let us take care of you for a change? Nothing has to be out of the ordinary.”

“How would we even do that?”

“We treat it as though you’re on your period. I’m assuming you’ve been having phantom pains that you’ve just been ignoring?” Catherine voiced. When Jane meekly nodded, the first queen all but scooped her up into her arms and placed her in her bed. “I’ll be back in a few moments.”

“Please don’t leave me,” the blonde whimpered out. 

“I won’t be but a few minutes,” she assured the woman in bed. When she noticed the pout that was beginning to grow on the younger woman’s face, Catherine pulled out her cell phone to text Kat. “What if I had Kat come keep you company while I just do a few things downstairs? I promise you I won’t be more than ten minutes.” Seeing that Jane seemed content with the plan, she asked the fifth queen to come keep the third monarch company for a few minutes. 

“I’ve been summoned?” the pink haired queen joked before sliding onto the bed next to her maternal figure. When Jane grimaced in pain, Katherine immediately backed off.

“No, no, please come here. I’m fine.” The blonde waved a hand dismissively. “Just a bit of cramping, but nothing will stop me from-”

“Say no more Mum. You just tell me if you get uncomfortable, and I’ll help you in any way I can,” Kat told the woman gently.

Satisfied that Jane was finally taking a moment to rest, Catherine made her way out of the room.

When Catalina walked downstairs, she heard the television playing softly, but all eyes were on her.

“So?” the television show now forgotten about, the four women on the couch were staring at her curiously.

“She hasn’t slept more than two hours each night since three night’s before Edward’s birthday. She hasn’t eaten much since then either, unsure if she could stomach anything other than a light protein shake in the mornings. It’s no wonder she looks like absolute hell: the malnutrition along with the lack of sleep would have anyone looking like a zombie.”

“And yet she still looks like our Janey, although a few pounds lighter if I do say so myself,” Anne noted.

“Her sweater did look a bit bigger on her now that you mention it,” Cathy added on.

“So what are we doing about it?” Anna looked ready to help in any way she could.

“She doesn’t want us to make a big fuss over it. Says it makes it worse than it already is. I told her we could handle it like we handle any particularly bad period for any of us.”

“I’ll go get the heating pad.” Cathy stood from her place and headed to her room.

“I’ll make some toast,” Anne replied and made her way to the kitchen.

When Catherine gave her a stern look, Cleves sighed. “I’ll go cut up some bananas for the bread and make sure Boleyn doesn’t burn down the house making toast.”

“Very well. I’ll be in Jane’s room.”

That night, Jane slept peacefully with her five housemates by her side. For the first time in three weeks, the blonde queen was able to close her eyes without being harassed with terrible thoughts flooding her brain. Instead, her dreams were pleasant: a young blonde boy, a striking image of Jane (no Henry could be detected in this boy), enjoying the day with his mother- the five other queens included.

When the third queen woke up the next morning, she was greeted with a breakfast made by the house’s very own Catherine of Aragon. At her place sat a note:

Take care of yourself, and when you can’t: Let us take care of you.

[iridescentjin]

In The Arms of Morpheus - Ch. 1

Series Summary: Greek god Morpheus!yoongi x villager!reader

Series Genre: Angst, Fluff, Eventual Smut

Chapter Summary: When you get to make the pilgrimage to Mount Olympus for the first time, you meet some unexpected troubles.

Chapter Genre: Honestly just exposition and background building

Chapter Warnings: some description of injuries, some slightly bullying

Chapter WC: 3856

a/n: This is the first chapter of at least 5 chapters, and I am really excited about this series. I hope you all like it. It’s slightly more edited than usual, but I didn’t try that hard.

Nestled within the mountains and forests below the Land of the Gods, a sleepy little village bustled with preparations for that year’s pilgrimage to the base of Mount Olympus. Each year, the youth of the village travel to leave an offering to The Gods. Though no one has seen or heard from any of The Gods in hundreds of years, the tradition is one that has persisted throughout the existence of the village.

You were packing your small backpack for the trip when your mother entered the room. She walked to you and ran her hand over your hair, which was hanging loose down your back. She had always been gentle with you, like if she touched you too hard you might break.

“Now, you’re sure you’re fine going? You have everything you need? You could wait another year or two.” she asked as she started to braid your hair.

“Yes, mom. For the hundredth time, I’m fine. I’m in my 20s, and I’m not made of glass. I can do this. I’m glad I finally get to go,” you responded, a little exasperated.

She finished the plaits in your hair and tied a ribbon around the end, and you wriggled out of her grasp and stood across the room from her. It’s not that you didn’t love her or appreciate her concern, but you were the only person in the village who, by your mid-twenties, had still never gone on the pilgrimage. Everyone in the village treated you the same way, and they had even given you the nickname “The Glass Princess.”

When you were younger, your body was too weak, so you were bedridden for most of your childhood. You didn’t have the opportunity to live the normal life of a child. The healer from your village had traveled far to other villages searching for the mystical Elder Root, and finally, she had bartered some of her evening primrose, echinacea, and lavender for a small trimming the plant. She made the journey back to your village and made the Elder Root into a tonic. After 2 weeks, you had the strength to stand up. After one year, you were healthy enough to attend school, even though your mother would never let you.

You learned everything at home, patiently sitting each day while your mom braided your hair, and reading as many books as you could. You read all about the times of The Gods and the way the world used to be. You overheard your mother talking with your grandmother and the healer about when The Gods still appeared in the mortal realm, helping when they could or tricking humans. They complained about how they wished The Gods were there now to help with the great famine of the land.

That day, you decided that you would try to figure out why The Gods abandoned humans. In all of your research, you had never found a clear answer to what The Gods wanted in the mortal realm. You had decided that they had actually never existed because what kind of immortal creatures would let the people they were said to care about fall into such a deep and unrelenting hardship. You hardly told anyone that you believed that The Gods weren’t real, and when you felt comfortable enough to tell people, a few of them had told you that they couldn’t associate with a non-believer.

Your friend, Hoseok, was the only one who supported you. He still believed, but he always told you that it was your right to not believe. No one treated you more like a regular person than Hoseok did. He goofed around with you, shoving you gently when you made bad jokes. You thought that, perhaps, when you were older, you might like to marry someone compassionate and understanding like Hoseok. Something always kept you from saying this to him.

This year for the pilgrimage, Hoseok had agreed to accompany you, even though he had gone several times already. He smiled brightly as you rambled over and over about your excitement to leave the village for the first time. You had been waiting for this moment for so long, and you went through waves of bubbling excitement and overwhelming anxiety.

Over the course of the week, you had kept your hands occupied all day every day by sewing, knitting, helping your mother cook, and even making daisy chains with Hoseok in the fields of wildflowers beside your house.

“You know you don’t have to do this, right?” Hoseok asked, and you could tell by his tone that he was trying not to offend you.

“I don’t have to do it, Hoseok. I want to do it. I’m just different than everyone else in that I’ve never even been into the forest outside of the village.” Your fingers stopped twisting the flowers, and you set them aside and grabbed Hoseok’s hands, looking deeply into his eyes. “And I have you, right? That’s all I need to make it.”

Hoseok blushed slightly, but he smiled a huge shiot shaped grin at you. He took the flowers in his hand and placed them on top of your head.

“This color looks really good with your hair,” he giggled, moving to rebraid your hair with the flowers in it.

With Hoseok’s reassurance, you had made it to the day that you were going to leave. You hugged your mother and joined Hoseok with the group of young adults, carrying different types of bags and baskets with them for the trip. Overall, it should only take about six hours, so you all met while the morning dew was still clinging to the blades of grass in the village center. After everyone was accounted for, you all left on your way toward the forest.

As you crossed the field of tall grass, you turned back to see your mother right before she disappeared into the distance. At the edge of the forest, you turned to Hoseok, who smiled and took your hand.

“You’ve got this,” he whispered in your ear.

Once in the forest, the world seemed different. It was quieter and calmer. The dampness mixed with muskiness of the earth below your feet wafted into your nose. Combined with the smell of the damp leaves on the trees, it was unlike anything you had ever experienced before. You are immediately in love with everything that the trees have to offer.

You kept looking straight up into the canopy, and the twigs and roots on the path caused you to trip a little bit. Eventually Hoseok grabbed you by the arm to steady and lead you while you marveled at the way the light danced between the leaves when the wind blew and how the branches from different trees mingled with one another, causing different colors and shapes of leaves to bleed together as if they were one.

It was nothing like the two or three trees bunched together that you’d experienced before, and your eyes started to well up with tears as you thanked the Gods (even though you didn’t believe in them) for the opportunity to leave the village for once.

You and Hoseok lagged behind the rest of the group because of your enchantment by every facet of the forest. Hoseok didn’t seem to mind, just pulled you along a little more quickly when you started to fall too far behind. The path through the forest wound through the thickest parts of the forest, where the trees were so dense that hardly any light peaked through at points. You felt like you’d been walking all day long when you finally emerged from the winding path to the base of the mountain.

It stretches high above you and paints the sky a light, heathered green until treeline, and the gray top of the peak and white snow are surrounded by clouds.You have to catch your breath, as it is the most massive thing you’ve ever seen. The expanse of the entire mountain range overwhelms your senses, and you cannot believe that you’ve spent your whole life looking at these from a distance. Up close, the mountains are both staggering and much less threatening. When you look at them, it feels like you could definitely hike up the winding switchbacks on your own easily.

Before you start to climb up the foothills, the group decides to take a break to eat and drink. The entire group sits together in the shade of one of the trees on the edge of the forest, cheerfully chattering as they eat. None of the others talk to you and Hoseok, but you don’t mind. You blather on and on about the smells and sights and feel of the forest, as you run your fingers through the moist dirt, pinching small pebbles between your fingers and tossing them aside.

“Hey, glass girl, are you sure that you can make it up that hill?” one boy calls from the otherside of the circle.

“Of course she can!” Hoseok immediately shoots back at him. He’s always been protective of you, but you know that he knows how important this is to you. You place your hand on his knee, and whisper “it’s fine.”

“No, y/n, it’s really really not fine,” he says curtly. “They will always see you as the Glass Princess, and it isn’t right. They should be mocking you for the fact that you were sick.”

“Hoseok, you know that, and I know that. It’s not worth the fight.”

He sighs heavily. “Fine, but if he does it again, I’m gonna punch him.”

You laugh at Hoseok’s words because you know he would never hurt anyone unless he really had to. Hoseok’s frown finally fades into a smile as you talk more about what the rest of the day holds. You only have about half an hour left to hike up the hill to the shrine of the Gods, then you’ll all head back to the village, resuming your lives like normal.

Finally, the group decides to pack up and head out before the sun is too high in the sky, scorching your skin when you are between the trees.

The hike is more difficult than you imagined it would be, the gradual grade upward making your calves burn and your breath come out in shallow pants. Hoseok stays by your side, but he does giggle as you continue to tell him that you don’t need help between heavy breaths. The hike is a little difficult for you, a girl who has never been outside of her village, but you catch up to the rest of the group.

As you crest the small hill, you see the shrine, shining in the sun. It’s gorgeous and blinding. The golden slab has an elaborate illustration of Zeus atop mount Olympus surrounded by Hera, Ares, Dionynus, Hypnos, Athena, and Apollo. Even though you didn’t believe in their existence, you were required to learn about the Gods from your mother when you were a child. You could name all of the major ones, but you hadn’t given enough time to any of the Gods who weren’t etched into this shrine.

The group sets to work at cleaning the shrine and preparing to leave the offering for the Gods. You and Hoseok begin to clean up the cloth from the last offering, gathering it into your bag and replacing it with new clean cloth. Others clean the golden plaque or lay the fruits, breads, and oils on top of the cloth.

When it’s finished, you all stand back and admire the work that you’ve done. It looks like a beautiful setting, a beautiful offering. You wish that it was going to anyone or anything besides the birds scavenging the mountains, but you are still proud of how it looks.

The teens start talking about Hyacinth Ridge amongst themselves, about how beautiful the purples, whites, and pinks are among the trees on the side of the mountain. Your ears perk up because hyacinths don’t grow in the field by your house, and you would give anything to see, smell, and collect them.

“Hey, are you all going to Hyacinth Ridge!?” you call out to them.

“What? The Glass Princess wants to hike the ridge? Really?” one young girl asks in a snarky tone. “Do you think you can make it?”

“Of course, I can make it. I’m not going to break!” you exclaim a little louder and more defensive than you mean to. You blush as they all look at you. “I just want to see the Hyacinths.”

A small faction from the group decides to spend an extra hour to go up to the ridge and see the beauty of the flowers. At first, Hoseok is hesitant to go, but when you are insistent that you are going, he rolls his eyes and joins the group.

The hike is a little more difficult than the first hill, but the boys up front keep calling back that it’s just a little while further. You feel the heat of the sun in your cheeks, and you know they are reddening. Your mother will be so upset when you show up with pink cheeks and ears, but you don’t care because you are so thrilled to be on that mountain.

You come around the corner to a gorgeous, deep green forest that looks different from the forest at the base of the mountain. Sporadic sprouts of hyacinth sit at the bases of trees, lining the forest floor. The further you walk, the more and more flowers fill the space. You squeal with excitement as you see them all, in all different shades. You stop to pick some of the white flowers from the side of the path and place them into your bag gently. You see some of the pink flowers a little deeper into the forest, you silently pad across the forest floor to pluck some of the pink sprouts. When you look up, you can’t figure out from which direction you came.

You spin frantically around, looking for the path. There is no way that you had wandered that far because you can hear the faint giggles of the group, but their laughs echo off the trees making it impossible to figure out from which direction they came.

“Hoseok!!!” you yell as loudly as you can, searching for any sign of him or the others. God you are so stupid! you think to yourself. y/n, you are so stupid.

You hear your name faintly from somewhere, and you try to walk toward it. You keep calling out for Hoseok while you move. Unfortunately, the sound gets fainter and fainter the further you walk. You begin to cry as you tread through the wooded area. You know that if you don’t go up, eventually you will have to come back down the mountain.

After what feels like hours of walking, you finally emerge onto a rocky face of the mountain. Even though it goes against your instincts, you decide to hike up a little higher to try to get an aerial view to see if you can see the path.

You work your way upward then follow a small, flat area. Your feet slip on the loose rocks, and you lose your footing on the edge of the incline. As you fall, you cry out for Hoseok. The last thing that you remember is the pain of the jagged rocks one after another as you rolled down the side of the mountain. You screamed at first, but the impact knocked the breath from your lungs. You had no choice but to allow yourself to tumble down the side, accepting that you were going to die. Your mother had been right to be afraid. And then it was black.

The first thing within the blackness is the pain. You become aware more and more of the pain. Seemingly every inch of your body is screaming. You feel your ragged breath filling your lungs, and every movement of your chest hurts. You open your eyes, and, at least, your eyelids don’t cause any more pain.

You are in a dark place. Maybe a room. You can’t really tell or process. You see a few lights spread around. There are three figures in the corner, but they don’t look quite human. They are too far in the shadows and your brain is too fuzzy to make out what is so different about them, but you can’t tell if they are friend or foe.

You try to cry out to them, instead making a squeaky whimper. All three heads whip around to look at you. They whisper amongst themselves, and one of the figures approaches you. From where you are lying, he looks tall and slender with a shock of tousled black hair atop his head. When his face is illuminated by a candle on the table nearest to you, you gasp causing a sharp pain in your ribs. Not only is he painfully gorgeous with soft features, thick lips, wide and angled eyes, and a piercing stare, but you are sure that you’ve seen him before. You couldn’t quite place him. But you knew you had.

He shushes you instead of saying any words and slips into the space behind you. As his face is illuminated by the candle near you, you see his face.

He had come to you in dreams. Usually, you were in a mundane scenario when he appeared. He would deliver some weird cryptic message that he said you were supposed to apply to your life, and then you would return to your dream. You would never forget the first time that he had come to you, and he had warned you that your grandfather would be involved in an accident.

When you awoke, his face was burned behind your eyelids, but you thought nothing of it. However, the next day, on a ride to the market, a snake spooked your grandfather’s horse causing it to buck him off and take off into the woods. Your grandfather broke some of his ribs and hit his head hard enough that he was unable to work for weeks. After you heard the news, you immediately tried to remember the man’s face, but it was just a vague blur of features.

Since then, every time he’s come to you, you’ve fought to remember his words and his face upon waking, taking every possible precaution based on his warnings. No, you would never ever mistake that face when you were asleep. You must be dreaming now. But...why were you in so much pain still?

“You,” you whisper in a barely audible tone, throat dry and rough.

“Shhh,” he says and begins to wrap his arms around your mangled body.

“No…” you try to fight, but you find yourself relaxing into his chest. Unable to fight the sleep that overcomes you while being held in his embrace.

…

“You can’t just keep her here, Yoongi. She recognized you.” The woman, his mother, Pasithea, hisses at him as he lays you back against the pillows and walks toward her.

“What am I supposed to do then? Let her die out there? You know that without treatment she’ll die. Ascelpius will be here soon, and he will heal her. I’ll just stay with her tonight,” he whispers, through his frustration.

Even though he would never admit it, Yoongi was fond of mortals because he had to interact with them so much. After you hold people in your arms so much, you can’t help but feel concerned for their frail bodies, minds, and hearts. Mortals were so much warmer, physically and emotionally, than the other Gods. They let their minds imagine wild scenes while their bodies rested. The Gods were so fixed in reality; humans had imagination.

His mother sighs, “Fine. But only until she can be healed.”

She stalks out of the room, leaving Yoongi alone. He pulls a stool up and watches you sleep. Your brow finally relaxes, leaving behind red creases. He smiles to himself at how helpless and frail you look. Something about your humanity excites him and makes him feel comfortable around you.

As Yoongi sits there through the dark minutes, he thinks that perhaps the reason that humans can sit with their dying loved ones and watch them sleep is because eventually they fall asleep themselves. Without the need for sleep, Yoongi sits in the chair bored for a while, and then he remembers that he has messages to take to the mortal realm. You are restless, and he worries for you but can’t just sit in that chair for the rest of the night.

He stalks out of the room to track down his brother, Taehyung - known to the mortal realm as Phantasus - to stay with the girl. He knows that Taehyung would be willing to take a night off for once, whereas his other brother, the third of the Oneiroi, would be of no comfort to him.

Yoongi existed to help humans sleep, to help them process their experiences, and to help them receive messages from the Gods. Taehyung existed to allow the humans to fully explore their imaginations, see the fantastical creatures their own minds were capable of creating if only they relaxed. Their other brother, Seokjin - known to the mortals as Phobetor - ironically delivered terrified dreams to the mortals and scared them. Though the humans learned a lot through these nightmares, Seokjin himself was so easily scared because he had seen so many terrifying things.

Yoongi spots Taehyung in the hall. Only their mother and Taehyung knew that the girl was hidden in one of the empty caves within the Palace of Hypnos. Yoongi waves his younger brother over, more frantically than he would have wished. He rolls his eyes at himself as Tae draws nearer to him, and Yoongi holds a finger over his lips.

“What?” Tae whispers.

“Do you think you can stay with the human for a while? I have some messages from Zeus to deliver, and you know how he gets when you make him wait.”

Yoongi tries to be as casual with his tone as possible. He isn’t sure why, but he wants Tae so badly to care for you. He wants his mother to stay away from you, even though she agreed to let you stay overnight. He knew that as soon as Ascelpius came and saw you, his mother would send you out alone on the mountain with no direction or supplies.

Tae smiles at him. “I’m not sure why she means so much to you, but you got it, hyung.”

Yoongi smiles slightly and claps his brother on the back. “Thank you, Taehyung! I’ll be back shortly after sun up.”

He walks quickly down the hall, leading Taehyung to you. He catches one more glimpse of your soft features in the pale candle light before he crosses through the river and waterfall out of the entrance to the Palace, and he skulks off into the night toward one of the nearby villages.

[doodleclan]

I know this blog is p much dead but I just gotta get this off my chest

I can’t help but feel like the wc fandom on tumblr has really gone downhill lately. Like, the other day I saw someone be like “uwu th*stleclaw is he/him trans lesbian” like, no he’s a fucking pedophile. This isn’t just my headcanon or my interpretation of a couple vague lines of dialogue, that is literally what Sp*ttedleafs Heart is all about. Imagine headcanoning a character that spends a whole novella just preying on/grooming a child as a lesbian or a trans women, two marginalized groups that are CONSTANTLY stereotyped as predatory.

Also like, I haven’t read any of the newer arcs, but spoiler alert, one of the characters commits suicide. I haven’t actually read this book, so I could be totally be wrong about things, but ppl making jokes about that makes me so uncomfortable. Like, I read the wikia and the character isn’t suicidal or depressed or anything, he just does it so he can fuck around in starclan or whatever and then go back to his body, not nearly as bad as sp*ttedleafs heart imo, but still a very heavy topic for a serious of kids books and it could be triggering to ppl or overwhelming to kids reading who maybe don’t understand whats happening. But ppl in the fandom are just making shitty jokes like “what if this character said a super funny epic meme phrase before offing themselves that’d be so funny xD” and acting like suicide is funny or normal and it’s really fucking not??? As someone who used to be suicidal, joking about it, even if it’s just with fictional cats, is really distasteful imo. 

Also while this isn’t a specific problem, it’s still something that bothers me, I really wish more ppl viewed the books misogyny and ableism as the writters fault and not just “oh but that’s how the wc universe works!”. I’m not the first person to talk about this but so often in the books, even in the older arcs, she-cats are killed off just for shook value or to motivate a tom to do something. When toms die, it’s an important narrative beat with tention and drama and shit, but with mollys it’s almost always just to show how dangerous something is or make a tom feel bad. Not to mention every time there’s an interclan relationship, the molly is always the ones whos blamed. Similarly, almost all the disabled characters relegated to medicine cat duty or have to riot away in the elders den. The only characters I can think of that break this troupe are Crookedstar and Brightheart, but Crookedstar wasn’t really focused on until his super edition and Brightheart still isn’t treated too well by the writers (she never got an apprentice, jaypaw is mean to her, she still has to help leafpool with her medicine duties, and so on.). Even the one disabled cat who really liked being a medicine cat, Cinderpelt, was killed off at a young age just to teach Leafpool a listen and then has to come back as a reincarnated able-bodied cat, bc as we all know disabled ppl can’t live long, happy, fulfilling lives /s 🙄

What gets me so angry is that then fans feel the need to integrate those troupes into their fanfics and comics and such. They’ll say it’s how the clans work, and not the writers beliefs bleeding into the world of the book. Idk how to tell you this but these are books about cats with their own made up religion and societies, they don’t have to follow our irl human societies rules, just bc ppl are misogynistic or ablest irl (including some of the witters) doesn’t mean they have to be in the books. Is it really that hard to write about a cat whos disabled but still able to a warrior? Maybe with the help of make-shift mobility aids or a different method or hunting/fighting? Or if they can’t be warrior, have them fill out a new role, maybe they babysit for kits in the nursery den or advise the leader or something. Is it really impossible for she-cats to die in a meaningful way, or for them to not be the only one blamed for having kittens with another clan? I just think if ur making fan works and falling into the same bad troupes the canon books fall into, that’s not good and you should try to be more critical.

[kyogre-blue]

Nanowrimo, day 15 (wc 1843)

Sinbad laughed, cheerful and light-hearted. “Madam, there are still two more courses! I haven’t even told you yet what we are offering!” 

The main course was the black elder moose meat, each of the small pieces full of flavor. A mouthwatering aroma rose from the plates as they were set onto the table. Surreptitiously, Alibaba finally released the small bit of magic keeping them warm. 

Amon was definitely going to un-choose him for this. 

“How is it?” Sinbad asked as Octavia carefully placed a piece into her mouth and chewed. It was a rhetorical question, and pressing for praise would have just appeared lacking in confidence. “Naturally, we would not consider something as simple as a few ingredients to be worth Madam’s time. To draw the interest of Madam’s esteemed customers and everyone in the city, more is needed.

“Ingredients, recipes and setting — we will provide all of it. Madam, let’s create a new sensation all through Napolia. How does that sound?” 

Finishing the last piece of the meat and taking a sip of her drink to wash it down, Madam Octavia smiled slightly. “You’ve certainly thought through it. Almost enough to make it seem like your original intent and not a fallback,” she said, aiming again at their weaknesses. “But such foreign ingredients, recipes and decorations — there is no guarantee they will be popular. My business is doing quite well. Why should I take a risk on this?” 

The main course was cleared away, and the desert was set in front of them. Abusing a djinn’s power again, it was a soft frozen treat with a flavor Alibaba still couldn’t understand but which made you want to take another bite to taste it again. 

Sinbad leaned forward. “Isn’t it better to gamble on taking the lead instead of just chasing after trends?” 

Alibaba, who had been moving back to his position in the background, winced. Not at the harsh sound of a desert dish being struck by a silver spoon, something that the well-cultured Madam Octavia had avoided the entire meal through, but at Sinbad’s misstep that prompted it. Even without looking, he could imagine how frigid the proprietess’s expression would be. 

Although he maintained his composure well, there was a faint twitch at the corner of Sinbad’s mouth, giving away his consternation as he realized the same thing. 

Originally, all of this had been just to drive up the value of their sale and improve their bargaining position. Whether or not they would be making it hadn’t really been in question. But if the madam flew into a rage, then… 

“Surely a businesswoman of Madam’s caliber is also aware of this,” Sinbad pressed on, recovering. “It is better to be an innovator than to simply ride the tide. It is because of Madam’s expertise and deep knowledge of the city and the people that it will be possible to seize the initiative, and everything we provide will naturally still rely on Madam’s alterations to create the best effect.” 

“Oh? Is that so…” she drew out. “So you’re counting on me?” But even so, her expression had thawed slightly. 

“Let’s say it will be a mutually beneficial partnership,” Sinbad said. 

The negotiations were back on track and, sharing a business smile, the two owners enjoyed their desert. And, as the meal came to a close, it was time for the real battle to begin. 

“Since you’re looking to enter the trading union, I’ll give you 1000 gold for the whole thing,” Madam Octavia said, naming the first price. 

There were many schools of thought about whether it was better to bid first or let the other party put out the first price. Was it better to seize the initiative and control the flow from the start, as Sinbad usually espoused? Or was it better to wait and observe, gaining as much information as possible based on what your opponent offers? 

In this case, Alibaba suspected that Madam Olivia had gone first just to avoid letting the young greenhorn in front of her put out a completely unacceptable figure. She wasn’t necessarily wrong. Sinbad and everyone in his group had a very skewed idea of how much anything was worth, if they had any idea at all. 

Using the trading union’s membership fee, the madam provided a working base they could understand. However, Alibaba knew that she was also completely scamming them. 

...But this was Sinbad’s matter, so it wasn’t his place to say. 

Sinbad laughed. “It’s very kind of Madam to consider our position, but the membership fee is no issue for us,” he said. “Since Madam will be taking on a risk and in hopes of future cooperation, we’ll be satisfied with about… ten times that amount.” 

“Young man, you are really quite brazen,” Madam Octavia commented. “Twice my offer, as a favor to a junior…” 

And thus, the battle had begun. 

~.~ 

In the end, Sinbad hadn’t wished to draw the negotiations out too long, so he had called it perhaps slightly prematurely. However, he seemed satisfied with the outcome. He had traded Rametoto from Valefor’s treasure, especially the magic tools Alibaba cautioned him against selling on the open market, and it had been done in bulk, so it was difficult to even tell whether they had made back the cost of the materials or how much they might have gained. 

To the untrained ear, the sheer number of coins involved sounded extremely impressive. They had been given bank notes, but if it had been actual coins, perhaps even Rurumu and Hinahoho would have found it difficult to carry. 

The atmosphere was unbreat as Sindria Trading Company’s representatives, plus one, headed back to their newly acquired headquarters. They had done well for themselves in their first business deal, and Madam Octavia had even written off the cost of their reservations as a gesture of good will. 

“So,” Sinbad said as the streets around them emptied, “how did I do?” 

He had been humming cheerily, and there was still a smile on his lips as he glanced at Alibaba. 

“Are you sure you want to hear it?” his friend wondered.

“I can handle it! How badly did she rip us off?” 

The others too turned to listen with interest. Alibaba could only sigh, tugging open the narrow collar of his borrowed shirt. “Well, first, you tried to strike at her weak spot because she’d been doing the same, right? But that kind of thing goes badly with people who have a strong pride. She was doing it to test you, a newcomer, and it was her right as a senior to be disdainful. But if you start shooting back, it’s just too disrespectful.” 

“Mm. I got that feeling,” Sinbad agreed, sighing and shrugging lightly. 

“Elders feel respect is their due, and some are not flexible about propriety,” Rurumu agreed. 

“Flirting with her would be even more disrespectful,” Alibaba added dryly. 

And that definitely something Sinbad had tried, before Alibaba forcefully made every lamp in the room flicker for a moment. He had been ready to kick him in the shin too, but that might have been too obvious and not fitting for the role of a servant he was playing. 

“You didn’t have to be like that. I was just going to compliment her!” Sinbad protested. “Who doesn’t love a compliment?” 

“And that’s why you were holding both her hands?” 

Sulkily, Sinbad waved away the troublesome topic. 

“Aside from that?” Alibaba went on. “It was pretty obvious you were just guessing on how much money to ask for. She just didn’t point it out because it was useful to her.” Unlike every other weakness, which she ruthlessly exposed to undercut them and their credibility. 

“What do you think would have been a good number?” Sinbad asked. 

Despite the criticisms, he didn’t show any sign of displeasure or wounded pride. His ability to always look forward and continue on his path was truly amazing. 

“I also don’t know,” Alibaba admitted. “I’ve never sold as a supplier for a restaurant, I don’t know the going price for rare ingredients, I don’t even know the usual prices at the Octavium. I doubt you could have found out all that in time for this meeting anyway. The bigger problem is that you set a one-off price for the entire set — ingredients, recipes, and decorations — without even discussing how much you’re providing. That she agreed without asking is a pretty clear idea that you’re underselling. She was willing to pay that much just for the idea.” 

Sinbad’s eyes slowly widened, and he slapped a hand to his forehead, grimacing. 

For him, the entirety of their perishable goods were a single matter to deal with quickly and with as few losses as possible. There was never a question of just selling part of it, so he didn’t think too much about how much there was. 

But for a restaurant, whether it was enough for twenty customers, one hundred, or thousands was a big matter. 

“Right. You didn’t mention how many fish you’re selling, or how large they are. Well, it would make more sense to discuss it in terms of how many dishes could be created,” Alibaba said. “You could have said, ‘We are providing enough for four thousand individual dishes. Let’s say five gold coins each, for a total of twenty thousand. Of course, since these are unique, limited quantity dishes, Madam will determine the final selling price to the public…’ Then add a separate bulk fee for the recipes and the decorations.” 

“Five gold coins for a dish?” Ja’far muttered. 

“If it really becomes a trend, the nobility will easily pay several times that,” Alibaba said. “It’s an unheard of, priceless experience. How much the final product sells for is entirely up to her skills as a businesswoman.” 

“How much do we have?” Sinbad wondered, his eyebrows furrowing in thought as he tried to think back to their cargo. “It can’t be that much?” 

“Did you see the size of the plates? A single fish would be several dozen dishes, at the very least. This is just an example though, I haven’t thought about the numbers,” Alibaba said. He smiled. “Even if you know the basic skills of trade, the details of a market are important too. That’s part of why breaking into a new market is so difficult even for powerful companies.” 

Groaning, Sinbad let his head loll bonelessly. “I underestimated the world of business too much,” he mumbled. 

“That’s right!” Alibaba laughed. “Don’t look down on merchants! ...Well, that aside, you did well controlling the negotiations. Keeping so calm and confident, especially when you don’t have all the cards, is amazing.” 

In fact, Sinbad had done exceptionally well for someone with no background in trade, or business, or restaurants for that matter. Within a few months, once he gained the experience necessary, he would doubtlessly become a terror on the market. 

“As expected of Sindria’s founder!” Alibaba praised. 

Sinbad grinned back. “Just watch,” he said, “this is just the beginning!” 

[ofstvtches]

ROCKY LYNCH,  MASCULINE NB,  HE/HIM & THEY/THEM.  —  looks  like  SAMHAIN SKELLINGTON is  attending  AURORIA  UNIVERSITY  in  auradon.  they're  the  TWENTY  year  old  child  of  JACK & SALLY SKELLINGTON,  which  means  they're  from  THE ISLE.  heard  they're  NURTURING  &  GENTLEMANLY,  but  can  also  be  INFLEXIBLE  &  SELF-PITYING  ;  we  all  have  our  bad  days.  people  normally  associate  them  with  SEWING NEEDLES REPAIRING A BROKEN DOLL , A BAG FULL OF BANDAGES, TRYING SO HARD TO BE TOUGH WHEN YOU’RE SOFT , SOFT HAIR HELD BACK WITH A BAT-SHAPED PIN.

                    ❛  when you saw that little girl , and she was in the sandbox                            and she was crying , and you gave her your toy truck and                            I told you we couldn’t afford to get another one. you said ,                          ‘ she should have it because she’s sad. she’s sad , mommy. ’ ❜                            playlist. pinterest. to listen as you read.

lol u guessed it it’s me , again , by unpopular demand - i am so sorry. third muse already bc i can’t keep myself away from playing absolute CINNAMON ROLLS so that’s what u can expect from sam w/ a pumpkin spice twist. bc nightmare is my absolute favorite movie and ... halloween, motherfuckers. so as usual this will PROBABLY end up long bc i love writing sam so much so yeah , more below ! 

HISTORY 

So as we know , Jack & Sally were sent to the Isle w/ the rest of Halloweentown for trying to steal Christmas ! And unlike Christmas , Samhain was not born in Halloweentown. In fact , he wasn’t even born - he was made. 

Magic wasn’t a huge thing on the Isle - but a resource of science was Dr. Finkelstein , and despite the limited resources and technology on the Isle , the couple begged the mad scientist to create another child for them. And from Sally , it took a lot of convincing , but Jack was able to talk him into it. 

It took even more of an effort to pull off , again considering the state of the Isle. But a good few months into the project and Jack & Sally were greeted with the cries of a tiny ragdoll baby boy. Keeping up with the holiday themed names , he was named Samhain - Sam for short. 

He grew with multiple touch-ups from the doctor to simulate an actual boy growing up - every year , a check-up making him taller , stronger , etc. And in that process he started to look more and more like his mother , with her big eyes and stitched smile and patchwork clothes. But he grew up loved by his brother & parents - though it never quelled the fact he always wanted... more.

He was loved , he was coddled , and as sheltered as a child could be on the Isle. So , much like his mother , he took a habit of sneaking out frequently and trying to fit in with the other Isle kids , even though he knew he didn’t. 

He just wanted to fit in. That was it. And it started off with him wearing large hoods and heavy clothes to hide the stitches on his body as well as masks to cover facial stitches. And while some other Isle kids found him odd and sticking out like a sore thumb , some found him cool. Some found him interesting. But nobody really knew what he was hiding - and it added mystery to someone so NICE , because Sam’s overall sweetness could rival that if sugar’s. 

Curiosity only reached dangerous points though when Sam snuck out on night to camp out with friends - and when everyone else was asleep , one removed his mask , and of COURSE did Samhain immediately wake up. He didn’t stay to see the reaction of the other when revealing his stitches , too afraid that he’d be seen as scary or repulsive for what he was. And he ran. He ran back home , locking himself in his room , and those friends he routinely hung out with . . . well , he didn’t talk to them much after that. Because what if they knew , now ?? What would they think ??

Villain & Auradon kids coming together was a new chance for Sam to try and fit in - be more in his element. He was immediately acquainted with a magic-practicing individual ( could be an AK or a VK - this’ll be a wc ) who struck a deal with him to offer him glamours so he could look less scary. Of course , these glamours would have to be applied and would wear off until the next application , but it’d make him feel more comfortable - even though he WOULD technically be hiding who he is.

While Christmas , the elder sibling , would be sticking around in Auradon Prep , Samhain would prefer to move immediately to Auroria University to try and figure out who exactly he wanted to be , and how he could do that. Currently he’s majoring in Nursing , given he’s always had a rather NURTURING and charitable nature - never turning down someone else’s request to help.

CHARACTER & FACTS 

So lemme get this one thing out of the way bc if I don’t I’ll be itching about it - but all my resources for ( the love of my life ) Rocky were made by me , and while they’re all from multiple eras from both R5 & TDE , I imagine Sam to resemble how Rocky looks around the post-Louder , Heart Made Up On You & Sometime Last Night eras ( basically from like 2013-2015 ). Here , here , & here for some references. I’m nOT DONE GIFFING THOUGH bc frankly I find giffing him therapeutic.

Now I don’t have a drawn reference or anything for this next part so we’re gonna have to use our imagination here but unglamoured , Sam basically looks like his mom in terms of the fact he’s a little ragdoll baby. Putting on a glamour doesn’t change his appearance much save for the fact the stitches disappear and he looks more human. 

The glamour is an enchanted bat charm he wears around his neck that can also be used as a hairtie. And it has to be refreshed every so often , so he has to keep going back to whoever provided him with it so it doesn’t lose its effect.

He still has a backup mask just in case , and he’s been practicing with makeup if need be.

Personality-wise , the best one can describe Sam as is sweet and polite. I included tht Stranger Things quote at the beginning 4 a rEASON bc he’s honestly such a sweet kid and will give anything to anyone.

And also bc I imagine Sally as Joyce mom-wise so yEAH bt I digress.

He knows his manners and treats everyone with the UTMOST amount of respect , which makes it extremely easy to get along with him . He’s also maybe a tad bit too giving for his own good , since it’s incredibly easy to use that to one’s advantage and he’s so inclined to believe people have the best intentions. An optimist , even if it’s to a fault. And then when he gets hurt he just sits to the side feeling sorry for himself like “ :’’’(. ”

Now when I say he’s inflexible , I mean that Sam is a very ORGANIZED person who likes things to be done a certain way - like , he can never do anything without a plan , and if even something slightly goes out of what the plan pertains of , he panics. He’s a goody-goody and he’s afraid to break the rules , which is why he’s still hesitant to even do things with the friends who are more “ bad ” than he is.

Everything has to be done BY THE BOOK and if it isn’t then something is bound to go wrong and Sam’s too worried about that happening.

He’s also incredibly insecure about his appearance but I think I’ve hammered in that fact enOUGH ALREADY

But if he takes his glamour off in front u that’s like. A Major sign of trust. So beware.

Again as I mentioned he tries to hang out with kids with the lesser reputations because :

1.) He wants to give them a chance

2.) He wants to make sure they have a friend to look after them

and 3.) He’s so used to trying to fit in with the other Isle kids that he’s trying to be ‘bad’ himself but it never works out bc he’s so sweet and he can dress in skinny jeans and leather and shit as much as he wants but at the end of the day he’s still Sweet Lil’ Samhain. 

One thing he’s always had a fascination with would be angels - he’s always believed in them , always though he’s had his own guardian angel watching over him somewhere , he’s always loved the idea of them. He has lots of angel decorations around his dorm as well as ornaments and stuff for the holidays. It’s also pure irony that he just so happens to be just as angelic in nature.

He’s also a big holiday person like the rest of his family and loves helping to decorate for events and stuff !!

One of his greatest talents is his ability to play both the piano & violin , and he’ll often do that if there’s a piano in common areas or so on. He’s also a talented singer , but he’s so used to putting that to the side , making him lack confidence in his voice.

i v much encourage u to listen to the song i linked i find his voice so....soothing.

Like his mom he’s also very good at cooking , sewing , etc. !! Often has to stitch himself back together if he gets hurt - you know , Sally style. 

More basic facts are that his final height clocks in at 6′4 , he’s homoromantic homosexual , and identifies as masculine non-binary who doesn’t really care how you address him. He’s very chill. And sometimes he has to walk with a cane of sorts if his stitches are loose or if his legs are feeling especially weak.

but yeah that’s it on that end !!!

WANTED CONNECTIONS

So obviously - the person who provided him with the glamour. Only requirement is that ur character’s good at magic or something of that sort.

AND ALSO - I’d love the person who initially removed his mask !! Sam didn’t stick around to see them react to how he truly looked , so it’s all up to you on how this character feels. But he’s avoided them since that scenario.

Also , his group of friends around the time that scenario happened on the Isle. Maybe they’re a little more rough around the edges than him , but this group was always tight-knit. And then Sam lightning mcghosted bc he wasn’t sure if now they knew what he really was.

Ppl who think his whole sweet thing is fAKE bc we know it isn’t but it’s so easy to THINK it is.

Also would love some folks he routinely cares for maybe in the aspect of like. Bein their shoulder to cry on. Patching up a wound. Just being There for them. 

Folks who in general just wanna know more abt him bc he is kind of a mystery !!

Would lOVE sb who his glamour wears off in front of and he begs them to keep his secret but instead they want him to try n be more comfortable w/ himself and who he is. Bc he’s a cute ragdoll let’s b honest he just. Doesn’t see himself that way. 

Ppl who Sam crushed on at the Isle and deffo broke his heart bc life just b like that sometimes 

Also present day folks who r just ready to break his heart bc again thats so easy to do

also once more i’m open 2 ANYTHINNNNNNG sam is my Baby(tm) and i’d lov any plots thrown his way !! will probs make another wc page for him like i’ve done w/ luke and am in the process of doing w/ trixie !!

[bonefall]

elder bones, what made you want to turn the politics of warriors into a story of anti-fascism? or, at least a part of the story is.

A mix of family and friends I've lost to radicalization + personal experience with the alt-right pipeline after a painful religious deconversion + frustration with how I feel parts of canon's messaging fall into authoritarian talking points

WC as a series is pro-xenophobia and even, sometimes, dips into outright eugenics. I don't know if the books contributed to where I ended up, but I do know that they were in my head a lot in a time I was vulnerable. The way that it treats foreigners and outsiders was particularly painful, especially the Tribe.

Over and over again, we see a pattern in the series where the Clan cats are superior to other cultures, and all their internal problems are caused by Born Evil cats or Barbarous Foreigners. Groups that are peaceful (Tribe) are borderline incompetent, needing to be saved over and over. Culturally, Clan cats are framed as superior by the narrative, with a way of life that is fragile and must be protected against outside threats. Their God is infallible, even when we see it fuck up and act maliciously over and over, but you're meant to ignore that.

Scourge shows up in the last book of TPB, one-shots Tigerstar, and presents BloodClan as love-and-friendship-hating foreigners that pose an existential threat to the Clans. A common enemy to unite against, who will destroy your culture, your people, if not stopped. In a final effort, Firestar rejects his kittypet roots once and for all and embraces his destiny. The Clans win in the end because of their superior religion and Clan bonds, and then... the alliance falls apart immediately, returning to petty squabbles because they don't have a supreme force to fight against.

The enemy is both strong and weak. Fear of difference. Action for action's sake.

The 'lazy' and disabled are treated like burdens who need to find something 'useful' to give their society, with bigotry towards them not challenged, but 'corrected.' "Actually they're NOT useless, they help do X thing sometimes!" You could argue that Jaypaw is displaying internalized ableism when he's insulting Longtail and Brightheart, and that's a fun reading, but that's not called out in the text or even really addressed.

Certainly wasn't my takeaway, when I was young and stupid and in a bad environment. So in my own head, I'm not putting themes in it that weren't there before; I'm subverting what I feel is written on the page.

(intentional or not, mind you. I don't think the writers are pro-authoritarian, I think writing xenofiction brings out subconscious biases. You write the world the way you think it "naturally" is, and that can be revealing.)

WC says that its villains were born with a 'darkness' inside of them, and with their deaths, "peace" (a normal amount of killing each other over rocks) can be restored. And I'm saying, instead, the darkness is in Clan culture itself.

So, that culture needs to change. Just like it has in the past, just like it will in the future, as is the nature of a living culture. Until then, the set of ideas they call "Thistle Law" is a sickness, a weed, and it needs to be cleared away with radical ideas.

[kyogre-blue]

Nanowrimo, day 13 (wc 2385)

The first thing they had to do after docking was find out whether there were any local restrictions on who could do trade in the city and how. Once it was pointed out, Sinbad understood the concept. Although far less intense, it was the same as Partevia — outsider had to battle regulations and paperwork to earn their right to trade in the country. 

One of the dock master’s subordinates readily, if somewhat distractedly, pointed them in the right direction. 

To trade in Napolia, and indeed in Reim as a whole, it was necessary to become a member of the trade union. And as for the details of what the trade union required to grant membership… 

“1000 gold coins?!” Ja’far hissed in shock. His hands seemedling instinctively itched toward his hidden darts — until Rurumu’s hand came down on his head in a light chop. Light by Imuchakk standards, anyway. 

“Proper comportment, always,” she reminded him in a gentle, lilting voice. To the trade union receptionist, she smiled and gave a small nod of acknowledgement. “Thank you for the information, sir. Please allows to discuss how we will proceed.” 

The trader had to crane his neck back to look at her from where he was sitting. Clearing his throat slightly, he said, “C-certainly. We look forward to your application. I’m sure your business would add exciting new business to our city.” 

Since their group was fairly large, they had decided that only Sinbad, Rurumu and Ja’far would head to the trade union to apply — or fail to apply, as the situation turned out — while Hinahoho, Vittel and Mahad worked on docking and unloading their goods, and Alibaba headed out on his own matters. By then time the first group made their way back to their dock, the second group was halfway through unloading everything onto the pier, and Alibaba had also returned. 

“That girl in Reim? Girl? Yunan, what kind of description was that…?!” he was muttering to himself, holding his head and pacing in the shadow of the stacked merchandize. 

It seemed like his matters were not going well. Fortunately, Sinbad was more than willing to provide a distraction. 

Calling everyone over, he quickly summarized the situation. “In short,” he said, “we need 1000 gold pieces and a letter of recommendation from a member.” 

“1000 gold pieces! That’s highway robbery!” Ja’far insisted. 

“Is it really that big a problem?” Vittel wondered. “I mean, the treasure from Valefor was much more than that. Most of it went to the national chief, but there was still some left aside,” — Sinbad had learned his lesson in that respect — “and if there was anything left from Baal’s dungeon…” 

“There wasn’t really,” Sinbad said quickly. “Not unless we borrow from Alibaba.” He glanced at his friend. 

“It’s fine, I’ll keep the interest low,” Alibaba assured him. It was hard to tell whether he was joking. “It most likely won’t be just one thousand though. The only way to get a recommendation is to pay something in return. Right now, you don’t have any connections, not among the merchants or the nobles, so you can only rely on money, which will be a lot to convince someone to potentially risk their reputation by endorsing you, or on giving away part of your future business in some way.” 

“And we’ll need to find out who the trade union members are first, and who we can try approaching about the recommendation,” Sinbad realized, sighing. 

“Please leave the information gathering to us,” Vittel said quickly. “We have experience with that kind of work.” ...In a sense. Assassinations often required first researching the target, and Sham Lash had also at times served as a branch of Partevia’s intelligence agency. Their methods ran more toward stealing documents than asking around, but it was at least something they had familiarity with. 

“Alright, then I’ll be counting on you,” Sinbad agreed. “We’ll speak to the dock master about paying for a longer stay. Then, we can load the merchandize back on for now and live aboard in the meantime to save some money. I can’t imagine the hotels or warehouses are cheap around here…” 

Rurumu nodded. “But, Lord Sinbad, what shall we do about the food? Even with Valefor’s ice magic, it can’t be kept indefinitely without losing freshness.” 

“If we can’t sell it, then…” Sinbad frowned, pursing his lips. 

It was frustrating. 

Since everything had been coming together, he had gotten too hasty. Something like the perishable nature of some goods like the rare extreme north fish should have occurred to him even without knowing about the difficulty of getting a trading license in Napolia. There were any number of other issues that could cause delay in travel, so he should have rejected anything that wasn’t suited to transport and storage. But he hadn’t been able to predict what would be most appealing to Reim citizens on the market, so Sinbad had focused on taking as many different things as Rametoto was willing to offer. 

This was just a delay. They would enter the trade union eventually, Sinbad was sure. The interest in their Imuchakk goods was clearly high. And even without the perishables, they would have plenty of merchandize to sell. Fortunately, he had even set aside some additional funds from the treasure this time, remembering the difficulties of having kept nothing from Baal. 

It was just a delay. But it was so frustrating. 

“It’s not that you can’t sell entirely, it’s that you can’t sell in public,” Alibaba pointed out. “It should still be possible to sell privately. That is to say, if you approach an individual buyer and sign a contract with them without putting anything on the market in public.” 

“You don’t sound very enthusiastic about it,” Sinbad noted. “I’m guessing this isn’t a good option.” 

Turning it over in his mind, he thought he had an idea why. 

Alibaba nodded. “It’s not great. You don’t want to be a supplier, you want to be an independent trading company. A famous one. If you resell, someone else will take the goods you’ve brought over and becomes the ones known for selling Imuchakk goods to the public. You’ll lose the first time on the market advantage, which is especially strong in this situation, not to mention the money lost depending on how much the resell buyer drives down the prices.” 

“If it’s like that, better to throw it out and start over clean,” Ja’far judged ruthlessly. 

“It’s just food, right? Compared to our other Imuchakk goods, it’s probably not as distinctive,” Hinahoho disagreed. “Most of it is fish or meat, and you can catch a lot of it outside Imuchakk territories too, so it might have even appeared here before.” 

“That might be true for Eumera sea bream and the like, but I do not think anyone except our warriors would be able to hunt a black elder moose successfully,” Rurumu said. The creature she was referring to towered over even the Imuchakk and was extremely dangerous to hunt. She had a point — Sinbad couldn’t imagine any other tribes treating them as a prey animal, or sharing their kills with outsiders in the rare cases where they succeeded in bringing one down. 

It wasn’t common even for the Imuchakk, and the fact that Rametoto had sold them some was a sign of his high expectations. 

Both selling it to some other merchants to profit off of and just throwing it out felt unacceptable. 

Everyone felt that way, regardless of which option their ultimately favored. The discussion continued back and forth in circles endlessly. Closing his eyes, Sinbad tried to block it out and think. 

There had to be another way. He refused to believe it could be this kind of inescapable situation. He had never gone along with what the world wanted, so there had to be some other solution that would let him come out on top. He just had to find it. 

“I think,” Alibaba said slowly, making everyone quiet down habitually, “there might be a third option. It’ll take extra work, but there might be extra benefits too.” 

“In that case, please educate us, Mentor,” Sinbad said, smiling. 

Again, he received an undeserved look of judgement. 

Clearing his throat, Alibaba began to explain. “The reason you shouldn’t resell is that you’ll be giving ground to competition. Other merchants are your opponents, competing for the same resources — the buying power of the public. But not all merchants sell the same things, so not everyone is in direct competition for the same markets. In that case… why not make use of a market you couldn’t otherwise pursue?” 

Vittel was frowning in confusion, and Mahad’s face was even more blank than usual. It was clear they didn’t understand, and the others were not much better off. 

Only Rurumu nodded thoughtfully. “I see… As expected of Lord Alibaba,” she said. Glancing at her fiance with a smile, she explained, “Imagine if you bring down a silver frost bear. You don’t want to just give away the meat or the fur or the bones, since you can use those. But what about the fangs or claws? You’re not any good at making jewelry, and neither is Rika, and you don’t really have a use for them either. So why not go ahead and sell them?” 

“Oh-ho, so it’s like that,” Hinahoho brightened. 

“Yes, like that,” Alibaba agreed, beaming. “But if you play it smart, you can even have the person you’re selling to tell their customers, ‘These are made from the claws of a silver frost bear, that fearsome beast! The great warrior Hinahoho brought it down himself!’ as free advertisement. ...Well, using that analogy.” Taking a deep breath, he said simply, “What I’m suggesting is to resell to a restaurant.” 

The idea that had been slowly taking shape finally came into focus, spreading out in Sinbad’s mind full of detail — and benefit. 

“Oh!” His eyes brightened with excitement. “I see! We’ll never start a restaurant ourselves, so it’s not like we’re losing potential customers. And if presented right, we can even get people interested in Imuchakk, so they react even better when we finally open our own store!” 

Sinbad had never been to a proper restaurant, but he imagined it was something like the taverns he’d sometimes visited with some of the merchants and sailors he worked with — on their expense, of course. One older man, whose clothes had been tailored for a much rounder figure before the war took a downturn, had proudly boasted about dining in the royal capital and in Aktia, back when his business had been flourishing. 

‘Oh, this fish is quite interesting,’ the rich visitors would say. ‘How did you catch it?’ 

‘It’s all the way from the extreme north! Look at that powerful tail, you can only catch them with an enforced net, but the extra weight makes it hard to maneuver,’ the restaurant owner would brag, for some reason very familiar with the particulars of fishing. ‘Only an Imuchakk warrior would have the arm strength to turn them dexterously enough!’ 

‘Imuchakk? Tell me more!’ 

The image in Sinbad’s mind was a bit too... cozy to be a high class restaurant, but it was not entirely off. 

Unaware of what Sinbad was imagining, Alibaba nodded along. “That’s right. When you think about it, people aren’t really going to know what to do with this kind of food items anyway. They won’t recognize most of them or know how to cook them. So this method of introducing Imuchakk cuisine to them is actually better, right? Especially if Miss Rurumu can provide some basic recipes when negotiating. Since you’re providing a one of a kind attraction that will give them an edge over their competitors, with Sinbad’s persuasive skills, a high profit is quite possible!” 

“I can certainly do that,” Rurumu agreed. Turning to their young boss, she asked, “Lord Sinbad?” 

Sinbad grinned. “Let’s do it!” 

Once the decision had been made, he didn’t hesitate and immediately put together a plan of action. 

“Rurumu and Hinahoho, look over the food stuff we brought and decide what kind of recipes we can sell. Also, put aside what we can use as a sample meal when we go to make the deal,” Sinbad issued orders rapidly. “Vittel, find out about the famous restaurants in Napolia and what their owners are like. Ja’far and Mahad, you’ll help me look for an office for our company and move the other goods there. After we’re done with the offloading and the deal, I want most of you to head back to Imuchakk and get a new shipment. We’ll figure out what we want to bring over once we see how the first few days go. Everyone clear on what to do?” 

“Yes!!” A chorus of voices rang out. 

The founding members of the Sindria Trading Company dispersed quickly, leaving only the two dungeon capturers in the ship’s cabin. Sinbad let out a silent breath. It would be a lie to say he wasn’t at least a little nervous, betting like this on obtaining a license somehow. But he would naturally forge onward ahead. 

Pulling himself out of his thoughts, he smiled and clapped Alibaba on the shoulder. 

“Thanks,” he said simply. 

“It’s nothing, it’s nothing. The hard part will be landing the deal and making sure it runs smoothly,” Alibaba insisted, ducking his head and rubbing the back of his neck. However, there was a pleased smile tugging on his lips. 

“Mm. Well, that’s true. I’ll handle the negotiations, but I’d like it if you could come too,” Sinbad said. “Just to observe. You can tell me afterwards how badly I let myself get cheated.” 

There were things Sinbad didn’t know, like the tricks of business. But after making a mistake once, he would certainly never repeat it. He just needed to make sure he knew what his mistakes had been in the first place. 

“Alright,” Alibaba agreed easily. “As long as it’s within the next few days, I’ll go with you. I’ll be heading out to Remano after that.” For some reason, he sighed heavily. “Not that I know what’ll do there. How am I even supposed to meet her...” 

Sinbad patted him on the back.