#I should compile the royal family's t-shirt's. They actually all seemed to have a different color from the ones we saw!

[valeriefauxnom]

Dragalia's comics had a few running jokes.

One of them, however, went very unnoticed: Comic!Euden's intense yearning to break free of the chibi style and become more sharply angled/'cool-looking' like the most of his siblings are drawn in-game.

Don't believe me?

Well, it starts in the adventurer's guide they released at the start of the game, with this frame:

He Yearns(tm) for the pointy chin and nose as seen on his siblings!

It also later pops up in this, in which Comic!Euden contemplates growing a mustache or beard since he thinks they look 'dignified' (even if his imagining of a mustache is anything but!)

But that's not all!

He later tries on Victor's joke glasses, to this effect:

Euden's just so happy there he looks 'cool' now, like a gentleman, that Victor can't break it to him that no, no he does not look any more dignified than his normal chibi-styled self.

He also immediately starts dreaming of a 'cool new look' and immediately dozes off to it, again to a more sharply-angled imagining of himself and his friends.

...No wonder he's so shocked, almost horrified, upon seeing Chitose turn most the group 'cute', because that's the aesthetic he's been desperately trying to escape since day 1!

Then again, comic Euden also would apparently turn catatonic for the rest of the day upon seeing anything too cute (typically the baby dragons), so maybe this is just him expressing some self-preservation for once in his life and trying to keep himself safe with his battle-buddies?

That's all the instances I can recall casually, but maybe there might be one or two more...

Long story short, comic!Euden seemed to deeply wish to be drawn more like this:

...While instead, he's stuck being drawn like this:

Someone needs to tell him that although the siblings are a bit more pointy in the comics...

...they weren't exactly fully espousing a 'cool aesthetic' replete with pointy noses and chins either!

As a last little joke, while unrelated to the actual post, the 'cool' Euden tends to self-envision actually pops up in this comic too!

[blueboxesandtrafficcones]

Queen of Hearts - Chapter 7

Thirty-year-old Rose Tyler’s matchmaking business is doing very well indeed, bringing her clients such as celebrities, athletes, and the now-happily-married son of the mayor.  All of which brings her to her newest client - one whose royal rank is a far cry above her own title as Queen of Hearts.

Ian, King of Gallifrey, calls off his wedding four weeks before the happy day as he realizes he can’t spend another minute of his life with his betrothed.  The catch - he must take a wife before his Coronation, only a month away.  In desperation, his sister and aunt conspire to find him is happy ever after - and it’s going to take a master matchmaker to do it.

-

Based on the Hallmark Movie ‘Royal Matchmaker’.  Chapters will be posted every Sunday.

As always, beta’d by the wonderful @stupidsatsuma​!  @doctorroseprompts

Masterlist  |  AO3

—

Sunday, April 7th

Sunday afternoon found Rose curled up in the library, reading through the second round of files Mel had produced to cull the herd further.  With a warm throw across her lap and a tea service on the table in front of her, a roaring fire in the fireplace only a few feet away, she was particularly cosy and comfortable – or would be, if she could forget the enormity of the task in front of her.

“Made yourself at home, I see,” a voice drawled behind her, and she startled violently.

“Shit!”  Just barely managing to not spill her cuppa, Rose twisted to see the King standing behind her, smirking with his arms crossed.  “Your Majesty!”  Fumbling into a half-standing position she attempted a curtsy, nearly falling over in the process.  Embarrassed, she kept her head down, hoping he couldn't see the warmth blooming on her cheeks.

Thankfully he looked amused when she dared peek up from beneath her eyelashes, rather than cross.  “Interesting reading?”

“Hopefully, your future wife is in one of these files,” she said, shifting on her feet.

“May I?” the King gestured towards the chair across from her, and she nodded, waiting until he sat to reclaim her own seat, doing her best not to fidget.

When he didn’t speak, she ventured, “Was there something I could help you with?”

“Can you tell me a bit more about your process?”  He shifted slightly, just enough to telegraph that he was, possibly, as nervous and uncomfortable as she was.

“Of course!” she all but yelped, flushing again and tucking her hair behind her ears.  “My assistant, Mel, has compiled a list of potential women for the position.  As I get to know you we narrow that down until we have a manageable amount.  From there we conduct Skype interviews, filtering down further until we have our top several candidates, who will come to Gallifrey to meet you. From there, it’s up to you, really, and chemistry.”

The King nodded, looking deep in thought, and Rose waited with bated breath.  He seemed to be in a more introspective, considerate mood, and she hoped he might let something slip that would help.  “What do you need from me?”

“Sir?”

“What do you need to know?” he clarified.

She’d answered this already, the first time they met, but she didn’t mind repeating it.  “Anything that’s not available for public consumption.  I don’t need to know anything about the publicity version of you – I can Google that.  I’ve worked with many famous people, and they’re almost always different from how they are portrayed by the press.”

“I’m the king, I need to be what my people expect,” he said pointedly, but she refused to go on the defensive this time.

“That’s a role you play for ceremony and photo-ops and… fan encounters like at the fountain dedication.  I need to know you.  The real you.  The one who wears rock’n’roll t-shirts and saves the world when no one’s looking.”

For a fraction of a moment his lips twitched, and she considered that a point in her favor, not that she was keeping score.  “I’m not Superman.”

“Thank God, not sure you could pull off the tights,” she let slip out, before her eyes widened in horror.  “Sorry!”

To her surprise, though, he let out a bark of laughter.  “You’re probably right,” he agreed, chuckling, “though it might be worth trying to see the horrified look on my sister’s face.”

They laughed softly, and Rose let it trail off into silence.

“My life,” he started haltingly, “it’s… a different kind of normal.  In these circumstances, one must learn to be guarded, and careful.  I’ve been burned by putting my confidence in the wrong person one too many times.  You can understand my hesitation with trusting a complete stranger.”

“Well, tell me more about yourself so we’re not strangers,” she teased.  “Simple.”

“You first.”

Rose laughed, thought she cut herself off abruptly when he didn’t.  “Seriously?”

His expression didn’t change, and she swallowed.  “Okay.  Uh, my dad died when I was a baby, so it was just me and mum.  It wasn’t easy, but we made it work.  I was working in a shop when I was nineteen and one night, a gas line took out the building.  In desperation I took an immediate position as an assistant to the owner of a large matchmaking firm, learning the ropes on the fly and working my way up.  After six years I struck out on my own, and it’s been an adventure.”

 “It certainly sounds as such.”

The King didn’t continue, and she raised an eyebrow.  “Right, your turn,” she prompted.

He pursed his lips, leaning forward.  “My mother died eight years ago, my father last year.  Obviously.  My childhood was difficult as well, though not in the same way as yours.  Growing up in the spotlight can be painful – no one wants to read articles critiquing how their pubescent years are going.  Not that they were terribly cruel, but any comment can be devastating.  I shudder to think what it might have been like, in this era of social media.”

He paused, licking his lips, and refused to meet her eye when he continued.  “My mother became sick when I was seventeen, and though she beat it in a year, it sparked a need in me to know more about medicine, to help heal others as she was healed.  With her encouragement I studied medicine at Johns Hopkins, in the States.  I wanted to be totally anonymous, which I achieved there, and in the process gained the freedom to discover myself and my passions.”

“That’s how I felt,” Rose murmured.  “When I first got my own place, away from my mum, I felt like I really knew who I was for the first time.  It wasn’t easy, and sometimes I called her and went ‘how do I…’ et cetera, but I’m glad I did it.”

“Did she do her damnedest to make you feel guilty for it?”

“Yes!”

They shared another soft laugh, and Rose grinned.  “You should do that more.”

“What?”

“Laugh.”  And smile, she thought, watching his eyes brighten.  “It lights up your whole face.”

“As should you.”  An almost embarrassed expression crossed his face then, and he stood, the mood shifting abruptly.  “I’ve taken too much of your time on a Sunday.  Please forgive me.  Will I see you at dinner?”

Rose scrambled to her feet again, feeling whiplash from the sudden change.  “Yes, of course.  Really, though, you don’t have to go!”

“I’m afraid I must.  Thank you for your time.”

Not waiting for her to curtsey, he practically ran away, and Rose stood watching the door for a long minute after he was gone.

What just happened?

-

Ian fled the library, feeling a little absurd at being driven from a room in his own home, but mostly overwhelmed at the level of intimacy they’d just shared.

He’d never told anyone why he’d pursued medicine.  His family had certainly guessed along the way, but in twenty-three years he’d never actually said the words – until now.

What is she doing to me?

A dual cry of “Uncle Ian!” was the only warning he had before being tackled, his niece and nephew throwing themselves at his legs and nearly sending him flying onto his back.

He let out an undignified yelp, arms wind-milling in an effort to keep himself upright, not bothering to glare at his sister when she sniggered.

“Alright there?” she asked brightly, smirking, and he lowered his arms to cup the children’s heads, one in each palm.

Hampered by the little ears present, he resorted to sticking out his tongue and crossing his eyes.  By now she’d well drilled him on behaving himself in front of them, wanting to show the twins a good sibling relationship.

Of course, it only made them drag each other harder when alone.

“Your face’ll freeze like that, and we’ll never find you a wife,” Donna warned, making him groan softly.

“You’re getting married?!” his niece gasped, pulling back to beam up at him, and he couldn’t help the softening of his heart at her wide, semi-toothless grin.

“Yes,” he told her, picking her up and settling her on his hip.  “If that’s alright with you, Princess Sophia.”

The little girl gave him an even stare, tapping one tiny painted nail against her chin in thought.  “Will she be my friend?”

“I hope so,” he answered truthfully, pressing his lips to the side of her head and inhaling.  “I hope you both like her,” he directed downwards, where Sebastian was still pressed against his leg.

“Okay,” his nephew said, popping his thumb in his mouth.  “Can we have biscuits?”

Ian threw his head back in laughter, the pressure in his chest releasing into a warm fondness for his family.  “I’m sure we can find some.”

-

Cosy mood lost, it didn’t take Rose long to pack up her things and return to the suite only to find Mel standing at the corkboard.

“What’s wrong?” Rose asked, dropping the files she held on a chair and walking towards her.

Two dozen or so pictures covered the edges now, connected by string to pins marking their home country.

Mel grimaced, the normally bubbly girl looking tense.  “I just got some bad news,” she worried her lower lip between her teeth.  “Reinette is away travelling.”

“No!”

Jeanne Poisson, Reinette to her friends, was French nobility and their tentative top choice.  “Can we-”

“I’m trying,” Mel promised, “but it’s up to chance now.”

Great.

-

An hour later Rose re-emerged from her bedroom with two distinct piles of folders.

“Success?” Mel asked hopefully, looking up from her laptop as Rose crossed to the corkboard, moving pictures around.

“From over a hundred potential candidates, we have narrowed it down to twenty in just under a week,” she said smugly, removing the photographs of the women she’d declared not right.  “That alone is an achievement; excellent work, Mel.”

“Thank you.”

Once the board was arranged to her satisfaction, they both stood back to stare at it.  “Right.  Next is Skype interviews – I know it’s short notice, but schedule as many as you can for tomorrow.  ‘Mrs. Right’ needs to be here no later than two weeks from today, ideally sooner.”

A knock on the door made them turn, only to see Princess Donna letting herself in.  “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

“Of course not Your Highness, please, come in.”  Rose hurried around the desk to clear one of the chairs, though the Princess remained standing.  “How can we help you?”

“I wanted to check on your progress, and see if I could be of any assistance.”

Rose and Mel exchanged glances.  “Things are going well,” Rose said brightly, hiding her hands behind her back and picking at her nails.  “We’ve narrowed the list to twenty, whom we expect to interview over Skype tomorrow.  After that our top choices will come to the palace for in-person interviews.  The final round is to interview them myself, then introduce them to the King. If all goes according to plan, your future Queen will be here in the next ten days.”

The Princess smiled, features relaxing.  “Wonderful.  Can I see your top candidate, please?”

Rose grimaced, hesitating only a moment before passing her a file.  “Technically, this is the top match.  Only we just learned earlier today that she is travelling, and we’re working on getting in touch with her.”

“French?”  The Princess wrinkled her nose, and Rose hid a smile at the honest reaction.

“Yes.  But as you can see, she’s a strong match to the King.”

She nodded slowly, flipping through the file before returning to the picture and staring.  “Well, you are the expert, so I will take your word for it. Just… whatever it takes.”

“Yes, Your Highness.  Thank you.”

Rose and Mel curtseyed together as the Princess left, before straightening up and staring at each other again.

“Now what?” Mel asked, and Rose’s teeth caught her bottom lip, worrying at it.

“Whatever it takes, I suppose.”