#This book has me thinking so many thoughts

[sillylotrpolls]

Deepest apologies, everyone. While I do on occasion deliberately leave out popular choices, that was actually not my intention here. Rather, there was simply such an abundance of possibilities that I had to cut myself off from imagining even more and focus on choosing from among the ideas I already had.

Yes, "meat's back on the menu!" would have been a great choice, but - which option would you have removed to add it? "Kingsfoil" placed last with 3.7%, but among book readers was still quite popular judging by the comments and tags. So let's just say this was a case of me leaving the most popular/obvious choice off to give the others a fighting chance. :)

I don't think there's much to analyze here beyond being glad so many of you enjoyed this very silly poll, so I'll just note that yes, as of 2024 the Swedish Chef really has been in every Muppet movie to date, if only for very brief cameos.

Some of my favorite tags and comments from the notes:

@bloggingwithoutpants reforging Narsil#Like Elrond just kinda tosses the bits intk a bucket and hands them off#“TODEE WE FORGEE ANÜE DE SWERD THAT WAS BROKEE!”

@camgirlpanopticon It's important to me that you all know that in Sweden he's called the Norwegian chef

@maggiemayhemnj “verdeskuugen orc orc orc”

@selifator Looks like Swedish meatballs are back on the menu boys!

@chemistry-sherlock-whatever i genuinely thought that pelting tomatoes would be the pacific ocean of this poll

@smoothjazzdigit The prancing pony was my first thought but I realized the prancing pony HAS to be rowlf’s big scene. It’s a bar in a muppet movie, rowlf is legally obligated to be there

@bitterfucked everything galadriel down is very much a contender#but i really feel like you missed an opportunity#by not suggesting he replace the orc that really wants to eat merry and pippin#merry and pippin keep crawling away while he's prepping them#the same combat is ongoing and merry and pippin are very concerned about it#but the swedish chef uses it opportunistically ie disarming foes to use their sword to chop veggies etc#and the scene ends when he tries to grab a leaf from an ent as an ingredient and it bops him on the head knocking him out

And finally, two bonus Swedish Chef/LotR memes are below the cut. Please enjoy my simple photoshop photopea.com efforts, and feel most welcome and encouraged to share your own.

Getting back to serious topics today.

[h0ney-mochi]

I'm thinking of a subby!xiao x dom!Afab!Reader, where it's xiao's first time and he starts crying because of the extreme pleasure he is receiving lmao

(I wanna hear his moans, whimpers, whines, crying, I wanna feel him squirming as he begs me to go faster on his cock lmao)

Anyways thanks! I hope you have a wonderful day :D

sub Xiao x dom afab!reader

SMUT/NSFW CONTENT (sub!xiao, dom!reader, afab!reader, riding, dacryphilia?, praise)

Summary: You've started being more intimate with Xiao a few months ago. Make-outs, some touching, but nothing too far... And then, one night, he tells you his thoughts on wanting to do more.

A/n: YR SO RIGHT... he'd be whimpering and whining for you to speed up, go harder, he wants more!!! <3 Hope you have a good day as well, anon! I haven't written in so fucking long that I'm scared this isn't that good... gosh help

Minor writer, dni if uncomfortable!

It's another night of you and your lovely adeptus boyfriend. He's still not used to the title of that, especially when you run up to him muttering the words with a huge smile on your face. You've asked him if he's uncomfortable, that you can change the nickname up, that he can tell you if he doesn't like it— Before seeing the blush on his cheeks that he's trying very hard to hide. He'll say it's fine, avoiding your teasing gaze, not wanting to admit that he does like the name. Especially when it comes from your lips.

Another one of those nights of you laying in the grass, kicking your feet in the air while reading a book in the pale moonlight. Xiao is beside you, looking over the hill. It was calm and quiet. Occasionally, you could hear some bird making noise in the distance, but other than that, it was peaceful. You flip another page and smirk at a sentence.

Xiao has already moved his attention away from the fields, looking down at you now, watching your eyes move across the words on the page. He slightly furrows his eyebrows, deep in some thoughts. It's fascinating how you have so many sides to you. Just in the early morning of the same day, you had him against the wall, messily making out. And now you're giggling at a book you picked up from the library days prior.

He feels the same weird feeling in his stomach that he felt in the morning when you had your tongue down his throat. What was it? What is it? You two never went far. You guys started getting sort of intimate a few months ago, maybe. He was inexperienced. It all always was too much, making him light-headed. Even a slightly heavier make-out session was enough to make his knees buckle. He doesn't know if you've been with someone else before him... You do it so easily. You always take the lead. Is it because you've learned it with someone else or.. or...

Oh, how he wished he would be the first one.

"Xiao?" Your gentle voice breaks him out of his thoughts, and he meets your eyes. He stares at you for a moment before looking away, answering you with a simple 'What?'.

"You seem pretty deep in thought, something bothering you? Do you need to go already?" You ask him while sliding a bookmark on your page and closing the book. Xiao grunts, shaking his head, "No, I'm fine." You won't let that go. You sit up and scoot closer to him, leaning against his shoulder. He moves his head to the side so you can lay yours comfortably. Your two fingers do a walk on his leg, and you smile. "Xiaooo," you drag out his name, chuckling at the end, "Tell me what's up."

Xiao sighs in annoyance, looking away. You slide your hand into his, intertwining your fingers. He tenses up and slowly turns his head to look down at you. He's met with your eyes already staring at him. "Come onnn, you know I won't judge," you continue your sentence. Xiao stares at you with an annoyed look. Some silence passes, and he blinks a few times before looking away again.

"It's nothing, I've just been thinking... about us. About what we... do." He finally says, absentmindedly moving his thumb against your hand. You hum in a bit of confusion before straightening your back, and he looks at you when you do that, eyes slightly widening in some fear. You take both of his hands in yours and look at him, "That's what's bothering you? Am I going too fast? I'm really sorry. You shouldn't keep these things to yourself, honey." You speak, furrowing your eyebrows, slightly chewing on your lip. Have you really been pushing too hard on him? Well, it would make sense that it would be too much for him... But it's the first time that he's bringing this up. How long has he been thinking like this?

"Oh, what? No, no, I-" Xiao's eyes widen at your words, and he quickly shakes his head, sighing again, "No, you got it wrong. You're not doing anything wrong, [name]. I was just thinking that..." I want you. I need you. I need more.

He feels his cheeks start to burn at his own thoughts. How is he supposed to say it out loud?

You stare at him with a tilted head. You try to think of what he's trying to tell you right now and make sure you won't be getting anything wrong, that you won't be misunderstanding... but his blush is really telling.

A small grin tugs at your lips. "You were thinking?" He swallows, breaking eye contact to look to the side. It's not like him to feel all flustered, but you always manage to mess with his head. Never in a million years would he admit to needing you in a way that is incredibly strange, at least to him. Yet you're willing to listen, you're grinning. You have a hunch on what he could say, and it makes him feel embarrassed.

"...That maybe we could..." He starts, feeling his heartbeat quicken and his mouth go dry. How is this so hard to say out loud?

He breathes in and then slowly exhales. Quickly glancing to you, he sees your grin. He's not sure if he should continue looking at you or look away — what can save him from these feelings right now?

"Maybe we could do... something more?" Xiao finally continues after a moment of silence. The way he worded it made him feel hot, nervousness creeping in. He starts to think again, staring in your eyes, of what you're going to say. Then he feels you squeeze his hands, and he feels his heart slowly slowing down. You let out a quiet chuckle before responding, "Yeah, we can. How far do you want me to go? Will you tell me when we're there?" He sits there, blinking at you. You hear him mutter an 'um...' and he's glancing to the side again.

"It's okay. You'll tell me when you'll need to then," You reassure him and lean in to give him a quick kiss. He feels your lips for a second, but before he can do anything back, you've already pulled away, and he feels some disappointment. You put your head back on his shoulder, speaking up again, "Just tell me when you want to try something more, or you want it to just happen in one of our moments?"

He moves his hand away from yours and coughs into it, not being able to handle your questions. How are they working him up already? Guess he's just letting his mind wander far too easily...

You noticed. Of course you did, so you spoke on it. Moving your head again, you lean into his ear and whisper, "Or do you want to do it right now?"

He lets out a breath before swallowing. It doesn't take long for him to reply, shaking his head up and down to your question. You let out a small laugh and move away, moving into his lap instead. You take your hand away from his and put both of them on the sides of his face, letting one move down to his neck and go further into his soft hair.

He stares at you with wide eyes, breathing through his mouth. He can't hide his nervousness. Or was it excitement? Neither of you knew right now.

He's already leaning closer to you, glancing down to your lips and back up to your eyes, so you only do the same. You lean in and press your lips against his once again, and his hands freeze up for a moment, before he moves them to sit on your hips, gloved hands slightly digging into your clothing.

He kisses you back, letting his eyes close shut in the process. You move your lips against his, and you feel his mouth slightly part, and you take it as a chance to slide your tongue in. You move your thumb against his cheek while running your other hand through his hair. He sighs through his nose, kissing you back, slightly melting from it as you move your tongue. And he can't help, but imagine where else he could feel it..

His hands slightly tighten on your hips, and he pulls you closer to him. He needs you closer, closer... And you let him, shifting slightly in his lap so it's a bit more comfortable for you. And that's when you feel it.

You move your hand away from his hair and slowly run it down his neck to his chest, feeling his heart beat against it. Xiao makes a tiny sound when you move your hand further downwards over his stomach. You've always trailed your hand there, but it felt different this time. Probably because he said that the two of you could do something more, and you're moving towards said wish.

You smile against his mouth and pull away, earning a tiny whine from the man in front of you. His eyes widen as his own reaction, and he glances away. You tap his cheek with your thumb, and he looks back to your face. "Eyes on me," you whisper in a soft tone. The way he looks at you and the nod of his head makes your heart skip a beat. It was cute.

"You want me to go further, yeah?" You ask, and he nods again, not confident in his voice right now. You move your hand over his pants, slowly feeling him through the clothing, and you see his eyes slightly shutting before opening fully again. You're not doing a lot, just rubbing your hand up and down, feeling his dick pulse from your movements. Yet to him, it already feels a lot, but not enough. He tries to stay still, but as a small noise falls from his lips, he bucks his hips forward, trying to get more friction from your hand. You smile, and he stares back at you with pleading eyes.

In a quick movement, you pull your hand away, and he sighs at the loss. But you had other plans anyway. Using both of your hands, you push on his chest, making him fall down onto the grass beneath the two of you. Xiao watches your movements as he props himself up with his elbows, wondering what you've got in mind for him. He's met with your eyes that seem to have a dark glint within them. Your fingers hook onto his pants, and you're slowly pulling down his clothing, making him jump slightly. It wasn't that cold, but if you're showing lots of bare skin, it does send a few chills down your body.

The flush on his cheeks gets darker as he realizes just how excited he's got from you, but he doesn't dare to look away, no — he needs to see what you're going to do.

You don't make him wait, immediately moving your hand over his underwear, wrapping your hand around his hard-on. Slowly moving your hand, same motions as before, just with a slightly tighter grip. You move your head down and leave a small kiss at the top of his clothed dick and he pulses in your hand. Hearing his breathing get shaky already makes you only wonder - how is he going to sound when he actually feels you?

"[name], please..." You hear him quietly speak, letting out a breath right after, "Can you...?" You lid your eyes at him, asking with a smirk, "Can I what?" He balls his hands into fists, knowing very well that you were teasing him.

"Please, you know- you know what I mean.." He mumbles, slightly moving his hips. You let out a small laugh, nodding. You pull his underwear out of the way, further down his legs, and he shivers from the cool air hitting his dick, getting some goosebumps in the process.

Wrapping your fingers around him again, you feel his warmth on your palm. You let some of your spit fall on his dick and you start jerking him off. Xiao lets out a moan, immediately jumping at the sensation. You kiss his tip before leaning away and climbing on top of his body. One hand bent enough so you can still jack him off, you put your other hand on the grass next to him, so you wouldn't fall over. He's the one to kiss you first, already opening his mouth for you.

It doesn't take that long for him to already start moving his hips in the same motion as your hand, hands gripping at the grass and loud moans spilling in your mouth, getting swallowed down by you. From the way he's reacting and getting more desperate, you could tell he was close.

So you slowed down your hand, and oh boy, the disappointed moan he let out in your mouth made butterflies fly in your stomach.

You pulled away from his lips, and he opened his eyes to stare at you, confusement visible in his expression. "Why- why did you stop?" He asked, but then his question was answered once he saw you pulling down your own pants, along with your underwear. His mind doesn't process what's happening right now until you're towering over him again, rubbing his dick against yourself. That sends a spark through his body, and he whines, breathing heavily. And then you look at him.

"Is this okay?" You ask, teasing his tip with your fingers, and he only nods in response. "Can you say it out loud?" You tilt your head at him and watch him stutter. "I mean- Yes, it's fine- okay-" Xiao speaks, eyes darting between your face and his dick, "Please-"

And then you lowered yourself down on him, moving your hands on his chest. Xiao's breath gets caught in his throat, and he goes quiet, mouth agape. It was fairly easy to take him in since his reactions and noises always made you get wet. Still, it felt foreign since this is the first time both of you are going to enjoy each other. Your hands clutch onto his clothes as you let out a soft moan, fully sitting down on his lap. It felt nice.

Xiao, on the other hand, was digging his hands in the grass, plucking a few off the ground from the harsh grip. He lets out a strangled moan, chest rising from a few quick breaths. Oh, you were so warm, he was inside of you, oh dear Archons, he was inside of you. Holy fuck.

You move a hand up to cup his cheek, making him zone back into your eyes. In a gentle voice, you ask, "Are you alright?" He nods slowly, unable to form proper words. And you take that as your cue to start moving. Using the strength you had in your legs, you lift yourself off his lap, leaving the tip of his dick inside you, before moving back down, slightly hitting his stomach. Xiao groans, his eyes almost closing from the feeling.

"You- you're so warm... You feel so-" He chokes out, interrupting himself with a shaky breath, "So good, fuck." You smile and grip onto his clothing, riding him at a quicker pace now. Xiao's back arched, and he let out a gasp. His hands shot up to your waist, holding on for dear life as you moved up and down his dick, moaning in the process.

He can't stop his noises now, that's for sure.

"Fuck, ah, you're- fuck, you're so warm, gaH—!" He whines, digging his hands into your skin, "Please- please go f-faster, [name], please..." You lie down on his chest, pressing your head into the crook of his neck and did as he begged. Crashing your hips up and down, the sound of skin hitting skin, combining that with the pure pleasure... Xiao couldn't hold back. His head falls back against the grass and moans flow freely from his throat as he tries to calm down. He feels tears prick at his eyes and his fingers dig harder in your waist, toes curling against the ground.

It felt so, so fucking good.

And then you moaned in his ear, and his eyes shot open towards the night sky. You moved one hand under his shirt, trailing it up his chest as you continued your movements on his dick. Through your moans, you managed to let out some proper words. "You like that? That feels good, doesn't it?"

He tries to nod, but he can't move from the pleasure, pressing the back of his head down against the ground. "Yes, ah-! Yes, feels good, fuck, feels good, feels so, so fucking good- Please, please-"

He's not sure what he's begging for, but he needs it, and he wants it so bad. He sniffles, feeling tears leave his eyes. There's something building up inside him, and he needs that release, whatever it is — he needs you to free him.

Your lips meet his neck, teeth grazing his skin. Your hips slap against his stomach, the noise from your wetness making it sound so much louder. Both your moans are mixing together, yet Xiao's are so much louder than yours. He's already sensitive, but he does not want to pull away, he can't, he feels something, he doesn't know what it is, but he fucking needs it. And so he begs with tears falling down his cheeks.

"Please, fuck- Please, I need- I need to- Fuck, [name], please, I want to- Haah- [name], please—!" Xiao moans out, his hands digging harder, daring to leave bruises on your skin and you groan in response, biting down on his neck.

"Mhm, you can do it, come on-" You say, detaching from his neck and straightening your back, quickly moving your hips ups and down, feeling your legs starting to sting, "Make me proud, Xiao. You're- fuck, you're doing so, so good."

And that's enough to have him snap. His eyes shut close, pushing more tears out, and his head falls back again. His dick pulses in you and you smile, staring down at his fucked out face. Wet streaks illuminated by the moonlight. His tight grip on your hips slightly loosens as he cums, letting out a sharp gasp. You don't stop yet, still trying to reach your own high and he slightly trembles beneath you, letting out broken moans.

His eyes are blurry and his mouth is dry, his heart is racing and he's sensitive. When you finally lean down to his face, it takes a bit for him to focus in on you. "Xiao?" Your voice sounds slightly distant, followed by a small chuckle, "Did that feel good, baby boy?"

He feels a small smile tug at his lips. You cup his face in your hands and kiss him, thumb brushing away his tears. He kisses back with the energy he still has left, and he meets your eyes when you pull away. He looked so pretty in the moonlight. His face was messy, red eyeliner stains, wet streaks from his tears...

"Yeah," his voice feels sore, "It did."

Thank you for the request! Hope you enjoy the taste <3

© h0ney-mochi 2024 / Please don't copy or repost my work and writings! <3

[sweetshuga]

𓆩 𝑰𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒅𝒖𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 & 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔 𓆪

𝑫𝒐𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒍𝒈𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓.ᐟ𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔

✧ Acts, talks, moves and thinks just like Chris. Despite being a ghostly copy of Chris—he’s slightly different and it’s a barely noticeable difference, but something about him is inhumane—uncanny. Has no shadow, or appetite, but eats anyway just to mimic the actions of Chris. Disappears and reappears frequently. Doesn’t show up when Chris is around which makes it all the more confusing. (Sometimes, reader doesn’t know if she’s talking to the real Chris or the doppelgänger Chris because of how identical they are.)

✧ 𝑫𝒐𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒍𝒈𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓.ᐟ𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔... who doesn’t know what romantic love is.

✎ "Can you repeat that?" Leaning in to hear you better, "You love Chris? Me? Uh... Thanks? I love you too, you’re a good friend." Ruffles your hair with a grin.

✧ 𝑫𝒐𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒍𝒈𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓.ᐟ𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔... who gets confused whenever you try to tell him he’s not actually Chris.

✎ "What are you saying?" Chuckling confusedly with raised eyebrows, "I am Chris. Christopher Owen Sturniolo? That’s me."

✧ 𝑫𝒐𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒍𝒈𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓.ᐟ𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔... who can’t remember when or how everything started, and is convinced he’s just a normal human being named Chris.

✎ "Yeah—no, I don’t get what you want me to say," clicking his tongue as he leaned back in his chair. "I am Chris, just a normal guy, ’nd you sure all those books about folklore ain’t getting to your head?"

───~𓆩♡𓆪~───

𝑵𝒂𝒊𝒗𝒆.ᐟ𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

✿ Loves reading about urban legends, mythology, folklore and whatnot, and yet seriously thought she was just talking to Chris on their first encounter. Girls girl & confused bi. Is kind-natured by heart, got taken advantage of many times by her ex-friends at her old school due to her naivety. Been friends with the triplets ever since she transferred in sophomore year. Overall, the epitome of naïve innocence, but otherwise very intelligent and knows exactly what she wants and what to do to get it. (Just not the best when it comes to social interactions.)

✿ 𝑵𝒂𝒊𝒗𝒆.ᐟ𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓... who tries – and fails – to tell herself that the thing she’s talking to isn’t actually Chris.

✎ Feeling your face heat up at the close proximity before stammering, "y-yeah, good friends, of course." Chuckling nervously as you reciprocated his grin.

✿ 𝑵𝒂𝒊𝒗𝒆.ᐟ𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓... who gets taken aback every time doppelgänger Chris disappears even though she’s seen it plenty of times.

✎ "Mhm... Never mind I said anything." You leaned back against the couch, looking ahead at the TV, "so, how’s your day been anyway?" Trying to make small talk as you looked at him again—only to find him gone and Chris walking inside the living room, looking like he had a fat nap.

✿ 𝑵𝒂𝒊𝒗𝒆.ᐟ𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓... who finds a way to complain about school any chance she gets.

✎ Sighing before you looked at him with a deadpanned expression. "I’m perfectly fine, also, haven’t even read a book for a few weeks." You grumbled, "all this school work is just unnecessary."

taglist: @strnilolover @mattsfavoritestar @sophand4n4 @tpwktahlz @lilyyliloo @slut4angstt @pvssychicken @poolover123 @loud-sturniolos @inlovewchrissturniolo @sagesturns @chrisstopherfilmed @billiesbabya @h3arts4nat @moosegirl96 @sofiaaguilaxx @sturniolo-fann @goingtojohnkramershouseee @sturniolosluttt @chrislilcumslvt @mattsninja @bilssturns @sturnioloszn @slvtf0rchr1s @knowingnothingnoel @shadowthesim @brookheartsmatt @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @m00nl1ghts1vt @strnlslut @ribread03 @hearts4werka @larallott @ivysturnss @chrisfavoritewhore @peiivnao

© sweetshuga

[book-lore]

No shade to the OP on this one because I do know some people who will do this and what I am going to bring up here might be specific to me, but I would still encourage people to be enthusiastic about their horror interests anyway.

I work in a library and thus I have access to EVERY. SINGLE. WEIRD AND MORBID BOOK you've heard of and so very many that you haven't. My reading list is a joke among my colleagues because while some of them are reading the newest Sally Rooney or Jennifer Colgan, I am regaling them (gently, but I'll get to that in a minute) of my favorite books that have featured some truly awful things. And yes, I've told patrons about this too, some to confusion and others who find it very useful. I get that this context is different from someone who might meet at a random social gathering, but if someone is going to meet you with suspicion about what you are reading, and they aren't going to hear you out about what makes it great, they probably won't be a lot of fun to talk to in the long run anyway. My coworkers think it's funny that I read such heavy, depressing topics because I am really friendly and upbeat at work. They also like that if they are looking for something a bit spooky but not going to plunge them into a story that they can't finish, they know I have them covered because of that whole gently telling them thing. I take into account their comfort level and when they ask me about my favorite topics, they know they can trust me not to send them into the deep end.

And maybe some random person has read all this and thought "that's fine in a library but that doesn't work in meeting people in other spaces", actually it does. One of my closest and longest enduring friendships began with someone who insisted they did not like horror stories or movies. They were not interested in the scary stuff, according to them. Over time, they realized that I wasn't going to make their life miserable by making them watch stuff beyond their comfort level and they developed their own taste in the genre, a lot of it from the media they already liked. They just thought those things didn't count. This wasn't always the case for people who I talked to, but the ones that mattered, especially with one of my best friends, it turned out that they weren't so quick to judge.

So talk about your obsessions. Talk about the things that excite you and make you happy. Maybe it won't be for everyone but it's not supposed to be and some people around you are still going to find it fun to listen.

being someone who's passionate about their interests when you're a horror fan really is a special layer of hell because every interaction you have with another person where the conversation turns to your hobbies and personal entertainments is a trial where if you show too much unrepentant glee at getting an opportunity to talk about your preferred subject you get to watch them mentally move you onto their list of untrustworthy individuals to avoid in the future in real time

[maxdibert]

i saw that you used to read dramione fics and cool with hermione/krum

do you think that as a romantic ship ron is not a match with hermione? or any thoughts on ron weasley in general?

For me, the dynamic is everything in a ship. I have very specific preferences when it comes to the kind of dynamic that hooks me between two characters or the types of personalities I like. Enemies to Lovers has always been something I really enjoy, mainly because I’m a sucker for drama. I mean, I love the hard stuff: different worlds, countries at war, opposing political/social positions. The characters don’t necessarily need to be enemies, but there has to be some element that puts them on opposite sides and creates drama.

I also really love power couples—characters who are both A+ in the same field, complement each other to become even more brilliant, and have this push-and-pull dynamic with unresolved sexual tension.

In general, I’m very into the idea of two characters who have lived a lot, come from vastly different backgrounds, have been through a lot of crap, and then suddenly meet, and bam! It’s almost like a coincidence because they wouldn’t normally have crossed paths, but they do, and something unexpected comes out of it. That’s the kind of feeling I just don’t get from childhood friends to lovers. It’s something that bores me so much. I know it’s a trope many people enjoy, and I understand why, but to me, it feels super bland. Even more so if one of the characters doesn’t seem to deserve the other, like Ron, who, to me, acts like a jerk to Hermione several times. Plus, his family feels like some kind of cult.

Honestly, I think Hermione should’ve married someone in her 30s—maybe a politician or someone highly intellectual who could challenge her mentally. I picture her as a modern 21st-century woman, not just another Weasley baby-maker. I really can’t stand the Weasleys in general; they seem super toxic and have this traditional family dynamic that repels me. I firmly believe Hermione and Ron would have ended up divorcing before their 40s, once their two kids were at Hogwarts and they were left alone at home without them.

But to answer your question more directly: No, I think Ron is a boring match for Hermione. There’s no tension, just silly and childish arguments. There’s no passion, no je ne sais quoi. At least Viktor/Hermione is cute. I like it for that reason. Krum is this international star but super introverted, chased by all the girls, and suddenly he notices the one who doesn’t care about him and asks her out before anyone else. I think it’s adorable. A wholesome teenage romance that makes you smile. But honestly, since the fourth book, Ron has grossed me out in general. I see zero chemistry between him and Hermione. I imagine them having super mediocre sex, honestly, lol.

[fuckyeahisawthat]

Re-skimmed through a bunch of Dune Messiah last night because why not and now I am having thoughts:

The thing that sticks with me most is the tone. It's melancholy, it's eerie, it's unsettled and weird. Cannot think of a more pitch-perfect director for it than Denis Villeneuve. He's gonna nail it.

There is...not that much...actual story? Denis has referred to it in interviews as "a small book" and I'm like my guy it is 350 pages. But there are actually not that many plot beats. It's just that every. single. scene. is WILDLY overwritten. The real challenge of adapting Dune is not the giant worms or the dense complicated worldbuilding or the fact that actors have to say the name "Duncan Idaho" repeatedly with a straight face. It's that there are pages and pages and PAGES of internal monologue that have to be externalized somehow for film.

After a re-skim my gut instinct for "how much story goes in a feature film" is that if you just wrote out the dialogue and action that happens in every scene in the book in screenplay format you'd end up with...maybe about an hour of material? Which is great, actually, because it means there is room to add stuff. Like a whole new independent plotline for Chani if they decide to do that.

It may seem insane to add things to an adaptation of what's notoriously one of the wordiest series in classic sci-fi but it's worth remembering that they added quite a bit to Dune Part Two. Most of the first hour of the movie--almost everything before the worm ride except for Jessica drinking the Water of Life--is stuff that isn't in the book. And it's the best part of the movie essential to making the movie work as well as it does. Yes, they also cut elements from both parts (the dinner scene, the whole plotline where Gurney thinks Jessica is a Harkonnen spy, Thufir Hawat's fate, Leto II the Elder, murder toddler Alia) but I understand why each of those elements was cut or changed in the service of cinematic storytelling.

There's an interview (can't remember which one) with Jon Spaihts, the other co-writer of the scripts along with Denis, where he talks about how Dune is like a stage play, with so many of what would be the big action set pieces happening off-page. I kept thinking about that comparison while reviewing Dune Messiah because in addition to the scenes that do exist being wordy and internal as fuck, an absolutely insane list of major events/reveals/emotionally significant moments happen off-page. The list of things that we don't actually see in the main action of the story, that we're only told about after they happen, includes:

Chani finding out Irulan has been secretly dosing her with birth control for YEARS

People trying to capture a sandworm and take it off planet

Chani and Paul finding out Chani is pregnant after 12 years of trying to conceive

Paul flying an ornithopter carrying his extremely-about-to-go-into-labor partner while blind

CHANI DYING (first time reading I did NOT know this was coming and damn near threw my Kindle across the room at the way the information was delivered)

Alia executing a bunch of people including a Bene Gesserit Reverend Mother

Paul walking into the desert at the end

You could add all these moments into a scene-for-scene film adaptation of the book and probably still have room to add more material.

The other thing that jumps out is that Paul doesn't really...govern...much. Like there's this whole subgenre of post-Dune/Dune Messiah-era fic that's just some combination of Paul, Chani, Irulan and sometimes Feyd traipsing around the palace having feelings while vague politics happens in the background, but I forgot that Dune Messiah is actually kinda like that??

There is a whole thread of Paul feeling kind of abstractly bad about being Space Hitler but he does not, in fact, actually do anything about it. And like yes both bureaucracies and religious movements can grow to have a life of their own that seems beyond the control of any one person. But also my dude you are the Emperor of the Known Universe. Someone is signing those space checks for the Endless War budget. You are not powerless here.

The one thing that really, clearly drives Paul to actively do things in the plot is not feeling guilty about having unleashed catastrophic religious war on the universe. It is protecting his family. Chani, Alia, his unborn children, and you could probably throw in Duncan by the end. That is what motivates him to act at key moments, and to want to hold on to power. And hey, y'know, if I'd experienced almost everyone I'd ever known getting murdered in a single night, I would probably get a bit intense about that too! It makes sense from a character point of view!

I'm very curious to see how these threads interweave with each other in the film, because the Villeneuve films put a lot of emphasis on Paul's agency and the fact that he may be constrained by shitty circumstances thousands of years in the making, but he still makes choices within that context. I can't see the narrative allowing film!Paul to get away with the same Poor Little Dictator routine as in the book. There are a few ways they could play this but I think the most interesting one is kinda the way they started going at the end of Part Two. Which is that as soon as you start reaching for that kind of power, then power becomes its own end and you will end up doing increasingly horrific things to maintain it. I think it would be quite interesting if the film shows us Paul not just being like "woe is me" but actively choosing to make the world worse because his trauma-driven fear of losing the people he loves makes him cling ever more desperately to power for its own sake.

If they went this route I think it would make Paul's decision at the end hit even harder. FWIW I actually really like Paul walking off into the desert at the end of the book. I think it brings things full circle with his relationship to the Fremen and creates this beautiful arc going back to the duel with Jamis. He first won a place among the Fremen through respecting their customs even though he really did not want to fight and kill someone he had no beef with. And by respecting the Fremen custom of the blind walking off into the desert, he proves himself to be fully Fremen and protects his children not by making them heirs to the throne but by making them Fremen.

And yeah, to a modern audience here on Earth it can look like "Paul conveniently fucks off and doesn't have to raise his newly-motherless children." And we can have a whole discussion about the unexamined ableism of the idea of someone who's gone blind voluntarily choosing death so as to "not be a burden" on their community. But neither of those readings is really the point here. Within the logic of Fremen cultural values, where the survival of the group as a whole is more important than the life of any one individual ("your water belongs to the tribe" etc.) Paul's choice is a willing and intentional self-sacrifice (see also: fedaykin) that wins him huge respect. There's a line in the book about Paul that's like "He would be one of them forever now" and damn if that didn't give me shivers. Like!! The political-symbolic implications!!! Which maybe I'm particularly attuned to because I just wrote a whole fic about what does it mean for an outsider to become Fremen but hmm something something Paul's final* act not being an exercise of Imperial power but an expression of kinship with an oppressed group and that being the thing that's needed to keep his family safe even if he is not physically present with them...IT IS RICH SYMBOLIC TERRITORY.

(*Yes yes I know about events in the next book. Shush.)

This kind of stuff is why I tend to think Chani may start out in a very different place in the story but the end will still be pretty close to what's in the book. It's too thematically powerful and tragic to go any other way.

But also...if they change things around enough that she is still alive at the end of the movie...I won't be sad about it.

[maodear]

Yapping about the contestants Guardian’s!

TW: Abuse,drugs,SA and etc.

So not many people talk about the Guardian’s in alien stage. I will be making opinions on each, but I will probably write more about the guardians when my art-book comes. Which would have all the lore I need.

Shine 🩷 (Mizi’s guardian

As we all should know, Shine is the most friendliest and definitely the most sweetest Gurdian. She loves humans and has curiosity to them. Mizi and Shien definitely had the most closest thing to a Mother and Daughter relationship out of everyone else.

Shine wanted nothing but good for Mizi, which is probably why she wanted her to be in Anakt Garden. Mizi had talent for singing and dancing. I am sure that if Shine knew that Mizi would have to suffer and go through pain. She would have not done it at all.

During round 5, Shine was watching. And you can tell how she felt looking at Mizi. She looks so sad :((

In all of Mizi’s birthday art or official art with Shine. She looked so happy in each one, always smiling or having fun. Shine loves Mizi like a normal person would love there pet. It seems messed up but Aliens see humans as Pets. But Shine still loves Mizi as her

Urak 🖕 ((Tills guardian

Urak is the Segyein of Till. And I will say he sucks the most. He treats Till horribly, in all ways. Mentally and physically. Urak has had other of his pets compete in Alien stage, but he says that Till is different from all of them because of his personality. He goes on saying that He only kept Till alive because of his Musical Talent he has. Urak believes that a Gurdian should learn right away what their pet’s strengths are to see if they are worthy.

In round 6 flashback Urak is forcing Till to sing “Oh my clematis” which Till refused to, which Urak throws a bottle at him, pinned him to a table. And when Till does break free, He attacked another segyein. Urak then once again assisted in restraining him. It’s said that Till was also SA in that flashback.

When Urak was asked about round 6 in an interview, Urak says that the only thing that matters is winning. It doesn’t matter how, if he wins it all worked. He also does expressed that it’s possible for Till to beat Luka, given how much Urak invested in him. (Which ages perfectly))

As much as I hate to admit. Even if Till is alive or not. I’m glad he lost because Urak has set another of his pets for Failure. And I hope he knows that, no matter how much he abuses, drugs or whatever shit he does. It won’t work because he will always set them in failure. Over and over again and it’s his fault.

Apparently Unsha and Urak have romance..??

Unsha🐁 ((Ivan’s guardian

Unsha is the Segyein of Ivan. Unsha isn’t physically abusive to Ivan but definitely is mentally. He has horrible has Urak since both Mentally and Physically hurt as much.

Unsha bought Ivan for his wife since it was her birthday. Ivan was choose because of his eyes which he found intriguing. Unsha also does mention that he had just begun to venture into the pet human entertainment business, so the timing was perfect for him. Which makes me believe that Ivan was Unsha’s first Pet.

If I’m correct In an interview, Ivan claims that Unsha is well known and him and Urak had nothing more then a business relationship. Saying they weren’t close in any way. Nothing more nothing less.

When asked for his thoughts on Ivan's impulsive actions during Round 6, Unsha replied saying he was disappointed that Ivan essentially forfeited the round, and he thought Ivan had a lot of potential even before Alien stage. He also admitted to being curious about what Ivan was thinking during around 6.

He closes the interview by saying he felt like he learned a lot being with Ivan, and it was worth the loss. He lastly that he doesn’t intend to participate in Alien stage again anytime soon.

Phan💀(Hyunas and Hyun-woo Gurdian

Phan is the Gurdian Segyein of Hyuna and Hyun-woo. Not much is shown or known of her since she was never brought up.

I did find that Heperu has an interesting to her similar to how Luka is obsessed with Hyuna.

((Not my picture! I don’t own the Art-book yet!)

Heperu🖕🖕🖕 (Lukas Gurdian

Heperu is the Gurdian Segyein of Luka. I might get blasted for this but I believe he’s the worst one yet. He claims that he had made Luka overcome fear, which makes me wonder what kind of things he had done to Luka. As we know Luka as went through a test with was monitoring his heart rate, and stoping his heart completely. Luka barley shows any kind of emotion. But he was crying in that art, Heperu disgust me.

Heperu ego is very high I can tell, because in a interview he claims that all of Lukas achievements and his talent is because of him. And he should thank him always for making him perfect. He always puts Luka very high, saying he will win no matter what.

In one of Lukas official art it shows Heperu shadow being in a position in which looks like kissing.?? And his hand was caressing him. Luka also looked quite young too which just gives me more creeps.

In the music Video all-in Luka kissed Hyuna, which I want to say. Was because of Heperu. Usually when someone was SA they see as a normal thing and do it to another person. That would explain why Luka kisses Hyuna.

Luka has been out through so much stuff because of Heperu and like everyone else has. Luka as very right to be the way he is. Because of Heperu and how cruel he is, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Till did become the same way.

Heperu also has a thing for Phan, having an attraction to Phan, just like Luka has an attraction to Hyuna??

Neigh🐛 (Sua’s Guardian

Not much is known from Neigh, but from what we know is that Niegh sees pets as nothing more than dolls. She dressed them all out usually the same. In a white dress like a doll.

In Neigh’s profile it’s shown that she has 0% interest in Sua. Probably because Sua is a copy of everyone else there. They are all the same as emotionless dolls. With no feelings or opinions.

——<3

Pretty sure that’s everyone? When my art-book arrives I will make any other post on the Guardians probably.

I may hate every Guardian except for Shine, but they hold a lot of meaning in the story which I appreciate.

Thanks for taking your time to read all of this <33

[shinkei-shinto]

Let's see if I can add MORE confusion in with my previous close reading of every single book in the series so that I could write my own Redwall novel!*

I see that you OP have heard of The Cookbook but for everybeast else: there's a cookbook! Most of the recipes are extremely simplistic but we'll get to why I think that is in a second.

WRT dairy: they make mention of "greensap milk" and I don't think any of their cheese comes without nuts. In ahhhh the one with the badger and his hawk, they talk more deeply about how cheeses are made (after you have the cheese) including wrapping them in nettles. So I Guess So since it apparently acts Just Like Dairy Cheese.

Yes! We are! Society doesn't exist yet! If you look at the books in chronological order, they move from using spears and sharpened stakes to swords and daggers and simple bows, and - in the last couple of books - crossbows. There's only one smithy and it's made in a dormant/dead volcano. They're literally just not that advanced at this point (although who knows where this would have gone if Jacques had been able to continue!) In earlier books, he refers to various tribes of species all living together in groups, such as squirrels in bands of trees, or the molehill of the Longladle family. Actually circling back to this there *is* one society that sort of rises up as a "city" -- in the Rogue Crew. There's a group of peaceable beasts who all live (mixed!) together in an enclosed sort of fort. It's one of the only other mixed-species places that exist, besides the Abbey and technically Salamandastron. (does Martin's temporary home have other species? I can't remember.) So this is also why I think recipes are a little simplistic. While they have so many vegetables (and don't UTILIZE THEM why are potatoes ONLY USED IN DEEPER'N'EVER PIE!? HUH??!) I think we're given to assume those are local and grown in their own ground, and they don't. have. spices/trade/etc yet.

*I* think the only idea of 'currency' is 'the currency of goodbeasts to do slave labor'. I think this one I would lean more heavily into "he was telling these stories to children" as an excuse; kids don't want to hear about money and capitalism they want to hear about pirates and heroes. But I also find this aspect of society confusing so I was mostly glad we didn't have to deal with money.

There's a bread dimension. That's my only excuse. As far as we know, the Abbey is very large - the front gates are tall enough to admit a full sized ship on wheels (a casualty of one mast) which is able to roll fully into the Abbey, hit a tree, and stop, without ever coming within weapons range of the front doors. We know there are lawns on either side of this path, a graveyard, a small-to-medium-sized spring-fed-lake, and a generous orchard. I assume Jacques was modeling this after abbeys in Europe/England, which I don't know jack and shit about, but that they did live there year round. shrug? I will note that there is a scene in a book (no I don't remember which one) where a gardener explains to a peer that 'we don't plant or harvest it all at once because then we'd have a bumper crop of parsley and what use is that? by planting some seedlings now, some later, we will have parsley throughout the season instead' so he was thinking about it, at least, even if it doesn't quite work out to reality terms. but there's just a fucking bread dimension, there just has to be, there's not enough room to grow the plants needed nor mills to grind them nor processing or ever making or even mention of flour. I GUESS we could talk about nutflour and other flour-like-flowers which the mice would have access to but BREAD DIMENSION. This was my one concession in my writing, I gave myself an out here because it drove me NUTS.

I don't think Jacques ever thought about this. We get ONE instance of a mouse adopting a. rat? what the hell is he. I think he wasn't the same species, I don't remember that one well, but there's him and Tagg, and that's "otter adopted by vermin" which isn't quite this either. I think this is probably another "kids story concession" which isn't an answer I like to give but it's the best I've got.

ha! ha! he actually retconned this! if you read Redwall the first book, he makes mention of several species (beaver? horse) which are WIPED FROM EXISTENCE in the rest of the series. There is a cart drawn by a horse which makes it seem like the mice and rats are living in a world with humans & human-sized equipment but that is RETCONNED. I do think the trees vary in size because we have various scenes of "two maidens bound hand-to-hand around a tree to keep them confined for the night" and "tied all [4-6?] of the vermin together with their belts, around a tree" in various locations in Mossflower and its environs. I don't? think? we ever hear of trees large enough to be giants to mice like they would in our reality. an addendum to this: I have never bloody been able to figure out the size of the fish. shrimps are the size of shrimp to us because otters eventually 'Skipper popped one in his mouth' in the kitchens which gives us an idea of how large they are to otters, at least. but fish??? ha. HA! we have the feast-day fish catching where multiple beasts are needed to reel in a huge trout or carp. we have pike, which are enormous man-eaters (mice-eaters?) but can also be beat to shit by a big otter and his rudder (Lord Brocktree iirc) and there is one kept as a tame uh, "pet", by an otter tribe. there is ALSO the wolf question. Gods know I don't remember which one this is but there's a book where a ... big fox? i think he is? is up far north, and he finds a dead wolf? and takes its skull and pelt and puts knives in for the claws? or some such. so we DO have extra-large-predators like wolves and wolverine, but then when we get. to the wildcats. oh the wildcats. they drive me NUTS. by rights they should be as big as badgers? when Martin fights Verdauga it feels like Martin is half the size of the cat? but then in every other way the cats seem to be as big as otters! or hares! uugghhh. BIRDS TOO birds are WILDLY inconsistent in size, I don't know how a mouse helps an osprey re-set his wing nor how a mousebabe rides on a flying eagle's head without disappearing.

do I have any burning questions still. hmm. OH I want to know what they make! their clothing! out of!!! WHAT IS IT. I also want answers about the far west, the scorpion??? and lizards??? as well as what the other side of the continent towards the east looks like, because in Martin's history we get to visit that coast AND we learn of several locations (TM) like Noonvale, which are never referred to again.

which BLOWS MY MIND because he made Brockhall + Castle Kotir literally affect the landscape temporally throughout his books. Brockhall is discovered and rediscovered and lost again and again, and Kotir eventually rises from the dead to menace the Abbey wall because fucking Germaine built a wall over the top of it when it sank into a mire. MA'AM. Even when we get to Doomwyte, the cavern they are in is a cavern mentioned in earlier texts! this is not our first interaction with the deep deep fissure in the earth that emits green gas!!!

oh and The Tapestry. I have so many questions about the tapestry. canonically the image of Martin was sewn by his (mother? wife? someone) and preserved through many things to eventually be set as the 'cornerstone' for the tapestry. And it "depicts vermin fleeing from him in all directions" and his "calm easy face" which seems to smile at Redwallers etc etc. but then. the SWORD. sometimes it it set next to the tapestry which to me makes sense; held vertically along the side it is accessible to many but not to babes. I don't think it is ever placed below the tapestry. but it IS placed ABOVE and there is a part where a goodbeast does acrobatic parkour to SNATCH IT FROM THE NAILS and I want to know HOW??? how big is the tapestry. how did you get that. is it landscape or portrait. what. WHAT. also where did the shield go! where did the sheath go! those were so important aaagaggghhhhhh.

Okay that's it I think I'm done. I hope any of this was useful or amusing, or better yet caused more chaos and questions 👍

^* I did in fact write most of this, 50k/100k words over two NaNos, but I could never get anyone to fucking read it or give me any feedback, despite handing out the first fifteen chapters to like seven people, so I lost steam. So if you're reading this and going "wow! I sure would like to read even more Redwall content and I would LOVE to get into in-depth discussions of shit in a fanbook, this sounds like a great way to build community," HI PICK ME.

hobbies include: close reading the Redwall series to answer my most burning questions. such as:

- can I replicate any of these delicious-sounding foodstuffs and would they in fact be delicious if I was able to

- corollary to the above: are we just supposed to read “oat cream” and “nut cheese” every time we see the words “cream” and “cheese”? I think so. bc if not, what tha hell are their livestock animals

- what is Society like? I don’t think we ever see a Mouse City or even Mouse Town though we do see castles and obviously an abbey. are we supposed to believe that most creatures are either in wandering bands or these societies based around a single structure (castle/abbey?)

- they appear to have an idea of what currency is (the bad guys always want treasure — maybe just to have, not to sell? but less ambiguous is some dialogue I just read, “acorn for your thoughts?” “you can have them for free”) but again, we never see anyone using money or making goods for the market. is this after the fall of Mouse Capitalism? are the bad guys (the idea of rat pirates gives me a headache, vis a vis the political/economic systems needed to power piracy) raiding preindustrial mouse societies for treasure/meat?

- corollary to the above: the abbey creatures have oats and wheat but we don’t see anybody farming or trading for farm goods on a large enough scale. is the abbey “orchard” really a like an indigenous forest farm of mixed foodstuffs? is that possible if you live in the same place the whole year or only if you travel each season? I have to do some googling

- both the lack of mixed-species families and the idea of mixed-species families give me a headache. has a squirrel never fallen for a handsome otter? what is the culture shock like if you marry into a subterranean mole family?

- this is the least “important” question but this read through I’ve been desperately trying to figure out What Size Everything Else Is. i’ve come to the conclusion that everything other than animals are at mouse scale, given that they can make seaworthy vessels their own size (a mouse sized vessel with real-world-sized waves seems impossible) and pick and eat apples and plums. but so far it seems like they’ve avoided mentioning how tall trees are — like a person compared to a tree or a mouse compared to a tree?

[hikaruchen]

Reading this blog and procrastinating what I should’ve been doing at the moment, but it’s super helpful if you want to know more about the Anglo-Saxon and Viking material culture but don’t want to be bored to hell. All articles are done by an archaeologist specializing in mortuary archaeology, and he has already written several ones about burials and pagan practices during that time through the lens of The Last Kingdom. I’ve linked one of his posts before on ao3 when discussing about the historical accuracy of Alfred’s tomb effigy in the show under the pic Prayer from the Pagan, but didn’t really had the time to check others out. I just did it and find his other articles are actually super interesting to read as well.

For instance, back when I post this pic in January I said the colour palette was inspired by the Alfred jewel, but I completely forgot that it actually appeared in the show (2x04) where Alfred handed it to Æthelwold and said “Take this. It is a symbol of my kingship. Bear it with authority.”, which might be partially true but is hilarious if you give it another thought.

Because, why, in God’s name, would Alfred hand an ARTEFACT version of the piece he commissioned himself to his nephew? As Prof. Williams already stated (in this post), the Alfred jewel has long been assumed to be the handle part of a pointer stick for following words when reading a book, and if you look at the artefact itself it is quite clear that there’s a part that’s been missing as well. The reason why scholars think it has something to do with Alfred is because:

1) It’s written. The text on the frame literally says that “ÆLFRED MEC HEHT GEWYRCAN”, which means “Alfred ordered me made”. The more detailed explanation below (with the help of beloved wikitionary since I don’t understand Old English at all)

ÆLFRED (subject) Alfred, obviously MEC (object) me; accusative of iċ (I), but in the West Saxon dialect it’s actually an uncommon version of iċ’s accusative and is more often seen in the Anglian dialect. The frequently-used version for West Saxons is mē HEHT (verb) ordered; third-singular past tense for hātan (to call; to order etc.), often followed with infinitive verbs, cognate with heißen in German GEWYRCAN (verb) to make; I honestly don’t know if “to make” and “to be made” is just the same word in OE help And since the word order in OE is random as hell thanks to the case system (much like German which I eventually gave up learning because I don’t have a brain big enough for that. IT MAKES NO SENSE TO A NATIVE MANDARIN SPEAKER THANK YOU), it is eventually translated into “Alfred ordered me to be made”.

2) It was discovered in Somerset and has been dated to the late 9th century, and we all know what Somerset meant to Alfred

3) Alfred did say he would send a copy of his translation of Gregory the Great’s Pastoral Care to every episcopal see in his kingdom in the preface to it, with the book accompanied “an æstel of 50 mancuses”. Mancus was a term to denote a gold coin or a unit for coins worth about a month’s wage for a skilled worker, such as a craftsman or a soldier. Whatever that æstel is it must be worth hell LOTS of money

But honestly while I do think this interpretation sounds very much plausible I’m thinking about other possibilities as well - how many Alfreds exactly existed during his time? We know that Æthel in OE means noble, so people bearing this prefix in their names were usually royal members or at least aristocrats, but what about Alfred? Was Alfred a popular name? Or was it unique enough that he could just go by this name without mentioning his title at all? Imagine if it were an Æthelred who made this, who the hell would know which one of these it was referring to, Æthelred the King, Æthelred the Ealdorman, Æthelred Ealhswith’s father, or even Æthelred the fucking Archbishop??? And yeah, I know Alfred was the king ™ here and there isn’t really much space left on the frame after all, but surely it wouldn’t cost a bone to add a cyning behind his name, right?

Sadly, as it was in the pre-Domesday-Book era, I can’t find the statistics of Anglo-Saxon names at that time (but keep in mind that there were at least 19 Alfreds worthy enough to be mentioned in Domesday Book even after the conquest. I don’t know if this says anything at all but I do want to mention it) What I’m trying to say is while it is highly highly highly likely (and I do believe and want to believe in this theory!), we cannot be one hundred percent certain that this jewel was really from the Alfred we’re talking about. And even if it was, it apparently wouldn’t be carried around by Alfred like THAT. Because that would be like, “Bear this with authority! Even though the symbol of my kingship is broken!”, said Alfred to a king wannabe. Lol.

The other thing I want to mention is this post about the show’s use of Fuller brooch, the one Alfred wore in S2 when he was in his war gear.

First of all, it is indeed dated to late 9th century and is assumed by scholars to be made by metalworkers of Alfred’s court. Everything is fine except I don’t think you would want to wear jewelry that luxurious to war…but then there’s this thing:

MEET GIANT FULLERS!

Well, can’t blame them since I am basically doing the same thing with my drawings (i.e. using patterns on jewelry and illustrations from manuscripts for embroidery design). But it’s worth noting that designs that are suitable for one art form doesn’t mean they can be applied to another well, and that’s why I claim my art is inspired by Anglo-Saxon art but NOT historical accurate for the Anglo-Saxon period. The reason I still do this and think it is understandable for TLK crew to do so is because we simply don’t have that many resources to reference from when it comes to this time period, and fabrics and wooden buildings are just extremely hard to preserve by nature. Instead of screwing up the design on your own, it just has more fun to add real historical elements into your work. Look at those easter eggs!

Ok, that’s it. I hope you enjoy my long rant and have a good read from Prof. Williams’s works!

[annawayne]

Hi, Anna! I was wondering for some small opinion and possibly suggestions to do with AruAni, mainly their names! In my opinion, I like to imagine Annie's name is actually "Annabelle", though she's never said it to anyone, ever, having the name everyone is more used to be the one that everyone calls her. Though, it would be fun if she slipped up and then have Armin, the adorable nuisance he is, start calling her Anaya, Arianna, etc - as he tries figuring out her full name. Bit silly, but fun stuff! And I was wondering, if you ever had thought of that, or the possibility of them having middle names, since I don't believe many have spoken about that and you're very creative when it comes to that! Have a lovely day, Toodle-oo!

Hello-hello!~

Oh, thank you a lot for asking this! I'm a huge fan of the whole name topic in general, and I think it's a significant topic for such characters as Armin and Annie. I can tell that I'll touch on this topic a bit in the next MYLYSW chapter with my attempts to explore Annie's past in Liberio, so you just HIT ✨the spot✨

I adore the exploration of all of it, so let's begin!

First of all, I want to say that despite everything, I really love the way both Annie Leonhardt and Armin Arlert sound: Annie's full name sounds, first, like a sigh, with the double ringing 'n,' only to flow into quite firm combinations of sounds, with the same respite right in the middle; Armin's name gives me a very metallic sound with a harsh and resonating tune.

I really love how their names sing, and we can explore many of their meanings. However, I want to focus more on the origins - not the meaning and roots of their names, but how they were given and what they meant for them.

We know that Armin's name is given by his grandfather. However, it's also quite an interesting moment for me since parents usually give the name to a child, and his parents disappeared much later when Armin wasn't a newborn. Probably, it's more like Grandpa Arlert was there from the very early time of Armin's childhood, and so he has this honor to give a name for his grandson (we skip here a theory that Armin was an unwanted child who was more of an "accident" rather a desired and planned child, who "stole" from his parents their dreams to fly away - it's a big topic and theory, and I would love to focus on other aspects this time since otherwise it would lead into long essay).

So, Armin, despite losing all his family at a very young age, has a personal connection to his name - he knows that this name wasn't an "accident" or "casually thrown" into him like a label. This name has old Germanic, Latin, and Persian roots, "a Warrior," "a Fighter," and also "goal" and "universal," which all fall into Armin's life path - he fights for the right to appreciate the whole world, even if it's not the one he has read in his book. However, with time, I think he starts to hate this name as his self-hatred grows as well, associating this combination of letters with the downfall and problems (in his opinion) he has caused since often his name was screamed in anguish and fear, or despair. Still, Armin, despite anything, knows his real name, which he learns to embrace and live up to. He knows this name is given with the love and warmth of his grandpa.

But what about Annie? We know that she was found by Mr Leonhardt on the street near the rich-looking mansion and that she has a biological Marleayn mother and Eldian father. Then, she was adopted by Mr Leonhardt (it's also interesting that we don't have any name for him throughout the whole series, which also gives me several ideas, but it's also for another time). Probably, Mr Leonhardt gave her this name by the logic "it sounds simple and doesn't show any relation to her possible noble blood by mother's line", which gives me an actual idea, based on your ask: what if Annie's name, given by her biological parents, was indeed something like Annabelle, Annette or Annalise (or any other form), which sounds more like "noble," rather than Annie, which directly shows her relation to some high-class Marleyan society?

We have not to forget that Marley - is an empire. Any empire does everything to erase any relations to the authentic roots of the people it colonized, and changing names/surnames - is one of these very well-known practices, since when you took the name from a person, you also took the part of their identity and ethnical background to make the person "fit" within the empire as their own, and yet, this is only to play a role of "generosity," when in reality people from colonized territories always won't be equal - the citizens of any metropole look down at them.

I think this happened to Mr. Leonhardt, who in reality isn't Mr. Leonhardt at all but was given this very Germanic surname, which aligns pretty much well with Marleyan traditions. So, the same might probably happen to Annie - maybe when he found her, there was a small card or note with her full name, but when he read "Annabelle/ Annette/Annalise" (or anything similar), he decided that with this name she wouldn't survive in the internment zone with such "noble" name, and simplified it to "Annie," both as an act of erasing any roots for her to start questioning her background and also of an act of owning - just like the empire did to him when he was shipped to internment zone. Just like Edward Said in one of his works, "There is nothing mysterious or natural about authority. It is formed, irradiated, disseminated; it is instrumental, it is persuasive; it has status; it establishes canons of taste and value; it is virtually indistinguishable from certain ideas it dignifies as true and from traditions, perceptions, and judgments it forms, transmits, reproduces."

There's really nothing mysterious. A plain act of cutting the roots, replacing it with himself - no wonder that Annie, on the day of her departure to Paradis, felt such a strong connection with the words her father said to her. It was not only a first showcase of care and love (which I highly doubt of its genuinity, and I don't think any of these words were towards Annie, but only to whitewash his ego), but also the attempt to keep her in his claws - like any empire does to its colonies by erasing everything and replacing with what is comfortable and needed for it to make it looks like the colony is incapable of living without it. I honestly have no questions why for Annie it was all her sole goal - to return to him. I swear, I will always defend Annie and try to highlight the whole complexity of her character.

So, I think, if it really happened at some point in history, then, after the Rumbling, when everything settles down a bit, Mr . Leonhardt confesses that Annie's full name is different (personally, if you would ask me, I really love Annette). For her, it's a huge shock because she realizes where it comes from.

I think it becomes a pretty sensitive topic for her - she would immediately dismiss it, however, she would understand with time passing that this name is hers and isn't hers at the same time since she has no association, no history with it, no attachments, and it also provokes some inner conflict she tries to ignore.

But Armin would notice, and eventually, she would tell him, however, it takes a long time, firstly, for Annie to embrace it as a part of her she has never known, but it's the only thing her parents left for her, aside her birth, and even longer - for Annie accepting it as an alternative - not a replacement - to her name.

I think Armin would be cautious with this, and the first time he calls Annie "Nettie", she would be a bit in shock - but more of the fact that this part of her is also loved and embraced by him. It would never replace Annie from his lips, the way she knows how he sighs it and how his tongue pushes this double "n" in her name only to string it with the mellow tune of "e," but she thinks that "Nettie" also deserves some love - the one Annette never had, denied almost immediately after her birth, but, maybe with him, Annette could learn it, too.

As for the middle names, I'm familiar with them, of course, but this concept is so rare in my country that this whole thing just doesn't appear too much in my head. But we instead have patronyms, and I also thought of all of it, and it just makes me quite sad since if Armin and Annie had patronyms tradition, it would remind them so much of their fathers... Who, well, let's be honest, both left quite a lot of angst in their lives, even if in different ways.

Oh, well... maybe you expected another answer and a more fluffy one, but sorry, I went into the angsty depths of some meta and headcanons :D

If anyone reached the end, thank you so much! I appreciate your time spent on it!

Thank you once again for asking, I enjoyed answering it a lot!

Have a wonderful *timezone* (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)

[seancekitsch]

The Sword and the Quill: Chapter Six

Pairing: Gwayne Hightower x Reader

In the weeks leading up to little Daeron's departure to Oldtown, Queen Alicent finds herself trying to entertain the unmarried ladies of court. As one of her ladies in waiting, you agree to an anonymous penpal in one of the men at court, and end up spilling your heart to him. He is your perfect match, your equal. The only issue? The Queen's brother Gwayne Hightower will not stop teasing you as you try to uncover who responds to your letters.

****tw/ this chapter only for an attempted mugging ****

Dearest Y/N,

I apologize for any harm or shame I’ve caused you. I know that as you were corresponding with these letters, you most likely did not want it to be me. I admit, a part of me did not want it to be you. But that is not the truth of the matter, and the entire time we were communicating with each other. Without being presumptuous, we fell for each other. Even without knowing that you were the one with the pen, I picked those flowers for your Love and Beauty crown with you in mind. Searching for my writer was not at the front of my mind when your smile graced a room. Now, I understand very much that you and I have differing opinions on where to go from here. 

I would still wish to court you, as your words have moved me and while yes I have mocked you I never mocked your looks. I was never joking when I called you pretty. 

I feel like you would rather not have me. Which, I will respect. If it would please you, I will go back to Oldtown early, as to not cause more unneeded harm to you. I do not wish for you to leave my sister because of my presence. She and the children clearly need and love you. 

I have said many things over the ages, but especially the past few months that I wish I could take back. Even more, there are words I haven’t said yet wish I had.

Unfortunately yours, 

Gwayne Hightower

So he does not hide his name anymore, or yours? Has he not thought of the implications of that? What people could assume might have transpired between the two of you if these were to be found? Love and beauty, the coin with the naked woman on it, these letters, the dance you shared; it is all too much. Evidence of a love affair that has not happened. These letters would shame you, you think. Enough to ruin any marriage prospect, enough to tear you from pious Alicent’s side. What would she think if rumors of an illicit affair out of wedlock with her brother of all people surfaced? You do not even consider the fact that these rumors would be completely untrue. People talk, and hearsay is often more powerful than the truth. There is probably already talk of a bastard Flowers in your belly.

And for a moment, you consider burning the parchment in the flame of the candle before you. Instead you place it to the side, the ring on your pinky clinking against the pewter cup to sip your beer. You sip long and hard on the beer, watching the amber liquid swish in the bottom of the cup as you gulp. The castle had felt all too stuffy and uncomfortable tonight, the same as it had felt every night since the feast. 

You have spent the last week embroidering and dining with Alicent, walking her children to and from their lessons, and walking Maegor’s tunnels the moment the little royals were put to bed. Each night, you come to this tavern with the letter, and each night you agonize on how- or if- to respond. Tonight you are determined to respond, to have some way to save dignity or appearance in this. Often Helaena was the child that gave you odd riddles, but tonight it was little Aemond.

“Did you know that some of these walls are hollow?” he had asked you, and you had to wonder if he knew about the tunnels from a history book, or if the six year old was warning you. You decided not to take it as a warning, and told the little prince that the walls were stone and stone could not be hollow. 

Your ring glitters in the candle light as you sit there and with your own blank parchment and your quill. The barkeep keeps the beer flowing and you think of what to write. You drink and read and drink and read. You place your pewter down as your eyes scan the letter again. 

What he has written vexes you, angers you, saddens you. You aren’t exactly sure if his leave would grant you peace, as you know it would discontent Alicent and take Daeron from you. And what of you? To say that his presence is an issue is just as equal to his absence being an issue. Part of you wants to believe him, as it did feel nice to be in his arms; it felt nice when barbs were traded for more gentle jokes. 

But even so, this is Gwayne Hightower. This is a man who has so often worked to make you look and sound like a fool; a man who has said horribly nasty things without caring that you were near, begets pleasure from making your temper rise. Surely, this is just another joke of his. 

A well thought out, time consuming joke at your expense. Another embarrassment at his hand. To write these letters, to make the crown of flowers, to dance with you; it is all to fuel the rumor mill of court, one he understands well and understands the consequences within. It is a farce to make you look like some simpering maiden following around a knight, to make Alicent’s closest companion seem capable of scandal. 

And surely, scandal is already spreading after you all but took flight from the feast. Certainly, he has made you a topic of discussion. 

With a hand raised for another round, you finally know what to write to him. 

You use the flame from the little candle upon the table to heat the wax before you seal your parchment. There is no need or use to disguise your parchment anymore, you think, now that he and you are unmasked. You settle up with the barkeep as it hardens, a sad smile on your face after you drain the pewter cup for the last time this evening and press the silver coins into his hand. You press your finger to the wax, testing its seal, before pulling the cloak up around you again and going back out into the night.

Your feet are unsteady under you as you travel the alley ways back towards the keep. Just three city blocks from here is a small door which looks like an average cellar, which in truth conceals one of the entrances to Maegor’s tunnels. This is a path you know well, a path you have trod every night this week alone. Your parchment clutched in hand, you tipsily make your way back so that you may collapse into bed for another dreamless sleep. Your boots clack against cobblestone, echoing as the wind blows at your cloak. The parchment in your hand flutters and flaps like a bird against the cage of your hand. 

You turn a corner, and another corner, the alleys crowded with patrons of taverns and pleasure houses and dance halls raucous and crying and cheering in the night. It seems, you think to yourself, that despite all of the jewels and privilege of your station that the common people seem to have more fun. At least, they have since Viserys’ coronation. You’d heard from your Lord Father of the strife that had taken Prince Aemon and how it had been ended many times. Viserys inherited peace from his father’s bravery. Alicent though, had never met Viserys’ father. As a child, Otto had her read stories to old and dying King Jahaerys, and then her father had her comfort Viserys similarly when Queen Aemma died. Perhaps more royals live their life in servitude than one would think, you ponder, your eyes feeling wet with sympathy for your friend. 

“Oh, excuse me,” you mumble as your shoulder accidentally clips someone’s arm, and you turn a corner. 

You turn another corner, more wobbly now than before as the warmth from the beer settles into your bones. Maybe, tipsy optimism tells you, everything will be okay if you can just get back to your bed without stumbling too hard. Maybe somehow the Gwayne problem as you have been calling it would go away if you could just get back to your warm and soft bed. He could just stop being himself or stop tormenting you somehow? Some sorcery or potion could be invented to stop tongues from wagging? Silly thoughts, really. No use in continuing them. You stumble over the toe of your boot as you put the thoughts to rest. The cobblestones seem to come up to meet your feet as your boots push you forward, the worn leather of them no longer shiny in the streetlamp lights from years of use.

“A Lady shouldn’t walk out here alone,” a man’s voice calls to you, and you pull your cloak closer to yourself. You figure if you ignore the voice and keep walking you can put enough space between yourself and the man. This is, admittedly, not the safest part of town. The nearby pleasure houses attract terrible men, but the hired guards positioned at the entrances tend to watch out for women on the street. There is a letter opener in your bag, so you are not exactly unarmed, but you would rather reach the nearest entrance to Maegor’s tunnels without having to use it. You move a little faster, now eager to reach the next corner to turn.

“Did you hear me, M’lady?” The voice calls again, and your blood runs cold. How did he know? Footsteps pick up behind you, and you pick up your pace to try to out walk him. If you can make it to the next street, certainly he wouldn’t try to grab you with so many witnesses.

You reach just a few mere meters from the opening of the alleyway before hands grasp at your arms. Defensively, you put your forearms up over your chest, clutching the letter tight and wrinkling the parchment.

“Been followin’ you,” Rancid breath wafts over your face, “No common whore wears rings like that.”

Fuck. Now you finally remember. Before leaving your chambers, you always remove all jewelry. You always put on your plainest clothes. A simple garnet on your pinky finger has given you away. Fear courses through your bloodstream, but so does a steady mourning. This too now, you can never have again. 

“All this trouble for a ring?” you ask, beer making you bolder. Anger, sadness, fear, all rolled into one as you hold your defensive stance. If only you can reach into your bag for the letter opener. 

“All this trouble for whatever else you’ve got,” He sneers, and something in you tells you now is the time to fight. You kick your leg back, boot connecting with what you think is his knee as you wriggle out of his grasp, tearing your cloak and knocking yourself down to the ground in the process. You gasp as your knees land hard on the stones, trying your hardest not to cry out in pain. The man recovers a lot quicker than you expected, stumbling back to his feet and muttering curses at you. You hold your hands up weakly, as if the crumpled letter in your hand is a shield. 

“Bitch! I should cut off your finger for that,” he tells you, and a dagger now glitters just as brightly as your garnet. 

But no blade makes contact with your skin. Instead, you look up to see the man grabbed by the collar by none other than Gwayne Hightower. He, too, is dressed much more civilian than you are used to seeing. He wears a simple brown cloak and tunic. Only, his boots are fancy thick riding boots. Gwayne slams the man against the wall of the alley, a sickening crack as the back of his head hits stone.

“Do not touch her again!” Gwayne more or less roars, anger you have never seen before radiating from him. You scramble to stand as he presses the man further, his free hand now resting on his sword.

“I should have your hands for this,” Gwayne bares his teeth, animalistic in his rage towards the man, and the man seems well and terrified. 

“No trouble,” the man chokes out under the hand on his throat, “I’ll be no trouble.”

It’s only then that Gwayne relents and releases the man.

“Be gone, and do not ever let me see you again,” he warns, and the man gathers himself to leave immediately.

“Keep your bitch on a leash next time,” the man mutters, and it’s the last you hear from him as he departs. Gwayne’s arms come around you immediately, snaking around your form and pulling you close into his chest. He smells of sweat and wine and now coppery blood as well. 

You feel pressure on the top of your head, and for a moment you think it may be his lips. But no, you write it off, you are tipsy and imagining things. 

“You stupid woman, do not scare me like that again,” he sighs, breathless and still on high.

“I had that handled!” You nearly shriek, and then falter, “I mean, there is a letter opener in my bag. I could have stabbed him myself, I could have put out his eyes or jabbed between his-“

“Handled? You fool, he was ready to dispatch you over a ring,” Gwayne cringes at his own words, as if his fear for your safety even scares himself. 

His hand cradling your head is warm, holding you close to his chest as if you are his. You lean into the embrace, not quite holding him back, but because the comfort outweighs the desire to stand straight. This is twice now, that he has insulted your intellect, but you bury annoyance for the moment. He did, in fact, make sure you were to go home with all of your fingers tonight. 

“Fine,” you pout, looking up at him, “I guess some thanks are in order.”

His face immediately softens as you gaze up at him, a faint smile on his lips as he takes in your appearance. 

“I appreciate that, My Lady.”

“Do not think this puts you back in my good graces, Ser Gwayne.”

“My heroism is not enough? Might you believe it is me now?”

Not you. Not you. The words swirl in your head. Not him.

“I believe you are out of the Keep late at night, nothing more.”

His arms do not leave you, but his embrace of you loosens. 

“And what are you doing here? A noble lady, this close to the Streets of Silk? You might as well be on them.” His voice is strained with anger and worry, his hair out of place and sweat evident on his brow. For a moment, you almost feel bad he is in such a state. He is clearly distressed, maybe harmed, because of you. A part of you wants to reach out to him and check for any sore or tender spots, but equally, you want him to just stop making that face. 

But then it cuts through your tipsy haze what he has truly said, what he himself has revealed.

You scoff, incredulous and seeing red. You push him off of you as if he had been the one to cause your injury tonight. 

“Good Ser,” the title spits like venom from a serpent, “I think I need not ask what you are doing near the Streets of Silk.”

He is silent for a moment, a damning silence as he looks to the shine of a puddle settling between the cobblestones. 

“You are lucky I spotted you when I did, Y/n.”

Hot, humiliated tears threaten to spill from your eyes, nevermind that Gwane will not meet your eye and looks just as wounded as you feel. He was on the Streets of Silk, he all but admitted, no doubt chasing women with the crown’s coin and roughing up with his men. The smell of sweat on his tunic is not from defending you from that man, you realize. Truthfully you always knew where your tavern was located, but it had not been an issue until tonight. Until Gwayne Fucking Hightower had to play hero and humiliate you even further as some silly chivalrous interlude in a knight’s evening of debauchery. After everything he had written, the apology he had given you, he has proven he is still just the knight you always thought he was. He could not possibly be genuine in his affections for you if he could so easily come here, you tell yourself. Surely, this is only more fuel to the fiery cavern burning distance between you. He will not see you cry, he mustn’t. 

“My hero,” you mutter, and shove the crumpled parchment to his chest as you walk past him. 

You hold your tears until you reach the tunnel. 

[vintagepresley]

I’m almost done with it. I’ll be honest.. I only read this book because Cooper Koch loves this book and way how beautiful it is and he may be playing Jude if they actually decide to make a movie about it which I heard is possibly happening. So I’m like hmmm he keeps talking about this book and the cover caught my eye. I did a little research on it and saw a lot… ALOT of people hated it. But I just took that as people on TikTok being dramatic as always.

This book is so traumatic, tragic, painful, sad and had my emotions everywhere. I’ve never cried so much reading a book. Then I decided to see what everyone thought of it on TikTok and just doing research. I’m seeing everyone call it trauma porn and all these other things. I’ll be honest. Would I classify this book as beautiful? No. Do I understand why people describe it that way? Definitely. But it’s not beautiful to me. It’s just heartbreaking. It’s a wonderfully written book and the story and how it’s told is phenomenal. But it’s so tragic that I can’t define it as beautiful. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it or the characters. Thinking about it makes me cry.

But I don’t hate it? I think the reason why is because there are so many people out there going through what Jude had experienced and what he was experiencing with the aftermath of those things in his adulthood. Now I’m not saying these exact scenarios are happening to people. But these things do happen. The child prostitution, the child sexual abuse, physical abuse. Rape. How people deal with it, I feel sometimes is similar to how Jude was dealing with it. Refusing to see a therapist, the cutting, thinking he’s not good enough or doesn’t deserve love because he thinks he’s disgusting or that people think he is. Not being able to open up because of the fear of people seeing you differently. His difficulties with sex and his relationships with the people around him. All of that I think is what made me emotional because all I could think about is the people out there who are or who have been through this. Then myself being a victim of sexual abuse.

I think that’s what made it hard for me to hate it. Because once I saw everyone hating it.. I’m like why? This is stuff that’s happening to people. Stuff that people are dealing with and we don’t even know it because some people are afraid to talk about it. But that doesn’t mean I don’t understand why people DO hate it. It’s fucking wild to write as a book. Like who the fuck thinks of shit like this??? I also don’t agree with the authors opinions about how someone as traumatized as Jude should kill themselves and how she doesn’t really believe in therapy. That I think is the most ridiculous thing I heard. Therapy works if you allow it to work and you allow yourself to be open and vulnerable. Suicide doesn’t need to be the answer and a lot of times therapy has saved someone’s life. So the author I don’t really like. Cause girl what… I also don’t agree with this becoming a movie. No one wants to see this on film, it’s hard enough reading about it. I love Cooper Koch and I think he’d make a great Jude especially after seeing him as Erik Menendez. But I don’t want a movie about this book. WE DONT NEED THAT.

[walkingoneliner]

An analysis of Cater Diamond

(That's mostly me screaming into the void.)

Cater has always had an identity problem. We see this from the very start of the game when he makes it clear how much he hates sweets because of how much his family always had to have them.

We get an idea that his family is a bit...smothering in their ideas and likes. And this is only built upon throughout the game with things such as the "rule of cute" they seem to live by.

Now, I'm not going to say Caters card is definitely him as dorm leader...but it certainly seems it. And if so, you'll notice somthing quite striking.

How different it is from Riddles uniform.

If Riddle's uniform is ouji, Caters is 100% Visual-Kei

It's far from cute, almost general looking.

Now I'm not saying "Oh Cater will be a bad leader and run Heartslabyul to the ground grr grr" as he doesn't seem like the type to do such a thing.

What I am saying, is that in Caters dream, such a uniform is vastly different because in his dream he is likely being himself! The only bad dream we've seen so far was Floyd's! Everyone else has been living their perfect realities, Epel being strong, Kalim being real friends with Jamil, Ruggie's dad coming back for him AND nobody in his village going hungry. So we can presume that in this dream as well we get to see the REAL Cater.

Which brings me to my part two ✌ of this analysis!

Who the heck is Cater?

To figure this out, we have to figure this out from the very core of who inspired him.

Now, I've seen many different guesses, the King of Hearts, the Knave of Hearts and the White Rabbit being the top three.

Well we know he isn't the Knave, that honor is clearly Aces considering he is the one who stole the "tarts upon a summers day." (Google Queen of Hearts poem if you have no idea what I'm talking about)

And honestly? I thought he was the White Rabbit! And i think they wanted us to think this.

We know when the game first released they said the reason Caters eyes were red in some twstunes and classes was because of the fact he originally was supposed to be a rabbit beastman. However, that was changed for an unknown reason.

I believe it was changed because they realized that a better white rabbit would indeed be Trey.

I know what you're thinking.

Trey? As the White Rabbit?

Hear me out.

Trey can fit the role of the White Rabbit very well as he,

Is Riddles right hand man. Many people assumed him to be the King because of this, but really, the Rabbit does far more for the Queen than the King does.

Has an odd obsession with teeth. It was a joke from the get go that none of us even considered.

Has a large family...enough said in the rabbit comparison.

How nervous he is around Riddle! Now every character is nervous around Riddle just as every character is nervous around the Queen. But it's noticeable how much more nervous Trey is than Cater, in the same way the Rabbit fears the Queen more than the King.

Finally, he is the one to smooth things over with the other students when Riddle rampages. Similarly, the White Rabbit is the only one of the Queens court to speak to the others in wonderland.

So what does this leave Cater with?

The role of King.

Now, the King doesn't do much in Alice in Wonderland, nor in the book Alice's Adventures Underground/Alice's Adventures in Wonderland which the flim Alice in Wonderland was based off.

Does that not remind you of Cater who is the most stand offish of the Heartslabyul cast. He doesn't do much at all to impact the story. All we see him do us use the others for his gain painting the roses (somthing I truthfully can't connect to the King despite my best efforts) and we see him try to convince Riddle to go easy on the first years, specifically Ace and Deuce.

I fear if I keep speaking, I'll end up running in circles. But for now, this is where I'll end it.

The fact he was the one to try convincing Riddle to go easy on them was a huge hint he was the King of Hearts the whole time, as one of the kings few lines is "Can't we have a trial?/Oh just a little trial?" And in the book he attempts to calm the Queen by reminding her that Alice is simply a child, so they should go easy on her punishment.

Not to mention he has the gavel that the King of Hearts uses...but that's just a nice little detail.

Cater is indeed the King of Hearts which we can easily trace evidence of back to the start of the story.

Despite this, I don't have any idea what Caters dream could be, but I do know it will be fascinating to see one of the least developed characters of twst finally shine!

If y'all have questions, additions or corrections, comment and let a girl know or send me an ask!

[cynthiav06]

Annabeth stans and Percabeth shippers are talking about how ooc Annabeth is in WOTTG with her thinking Percy is stupid as if she hasn't constantly made fun of Percy's intelligence since the very beginning. As if she doesn't do it in every book, multiple times. Rick's characterization of Annabeth isn't changing, people are finally just growing up and realizing their fave ship when they were 12 isn't healthy. But instead of actually acknowledging that it's a bad ship they just blame the author.

Warnings: This is going to be a rant; bear with me. People from the "take everything as a personal offense" group stop reading. Will give us both the luxury of a peaceful mind.

It's easier to blame Rick, I think, given his series of shit decisions. The Wrath of a Triple Goddess is a complete abomination, and so is Chalice of the Gods in many ways. But at least it has helped readers understand the glaring flaws of Percabeth as a ship. How Percy's character is butchered to hype up Annabeth.

And I am completely exhausted of trying to get any of them to think rationally and in an unbiased manner. I can't make a willfully blind individual see sense after all.

But yeah, Annabeth has many, and I mean many character flaws throughout the series. The number of times I have made a post on Annabeth's flaws or even why Percabeth is incompatible.... At this point, I believe open-minded and careful readers are going to see and make their own conclusions, and the blind shippers will keep doing their own thing. This , I think, was my most recent post and will probably be one of my last ones on a similar topic. Unless I get newer asks that have some different viewpoints that I can actually explore cause, all has been said so far, I think.

I had a feeling that things would get better as they got older, more mature, you know, an Annabeth character arc of some sort. Maybe exploring the positive and negative nuances of Percabeth or even Percy's suicidal thoughts, non existent self esteem and how Annabeth has been unknowingly feeding into those.

She is one of the more iconic characters to people even outside the fandom. One from a very, very , and exclusive pool of actually strong female characters and the way her character is devolving isn't helping anything.

-------------------------------------------------------

All of Riordan's characters have such high potential, and the amount of plots he could explore is staggering, and yet he still dishes out the same generic plot again and again. He is in it for the money now, has been for a while, and so there's no hope there.

This might be a very hot take, but I think romance ruined the series. Rick kept slapping romantic relationships on every character as if that would suddenly make things better. Give them a relationship rather than explore their trauma. I guess it's the easier of the two.

But seriously, Caleo? Jiper? Solangelo ? (I can see the hate comments already). Whatever he was doing with Reyna, but at least she wasn't completely butchered.

Rick's problem is that he keeps giving more importance to romantic relationships and makes that the entire personality of a character.

He butchered Percy, even Jason at times, Leo bloody Valdez and Nico more prominently.

The way Percy and Nico's very deep and volatile bond and heavily dynamic relationship was butchered and distorted to feed into Solangelo and Percabeth, and I can't possibly understate how highly that's been going on.

Then Luke and Thalia's relationship was completely butchered for no absolute reason. I have no idea why. They were in love or at least had romantic feelings for each other, and Thalia just woke up and wanted to kill him? He literally gave all the angst to Annabeth even though Thalia had known him longer, and they had a more nuanced bond.

Jason's relationship with Camp Jupiter individuals was completely scrapped, his and Reyna's dynamic completely watered down, or even his and Leo's great friendship discarded all for Jiper or whatever else was shoved at him.

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As opposed to this whole shit show, I loved the relationships in the Magnus Chase series and Kane Chronicles. That was good stuff. Both character relationships and romantic ones even though I am pretty sure he got a lot of diverse representation wrong or so I have read recently.

Then there's the stupid, blind, bigot part of the fandom that just can't help themselves. I mean dumb Percy takes, Annabeth stans ruining Percy's character arcs and overinflating Annabeth's character, which in turn made Rick do the same.Then the boring Jason thing? What the hell was that? It's like everyone missed the point of why Jason is the way he is. I am going to make a post on that soon, but seriously, the shit that's been going on.

Then the shippers. Solangelo stans and Percabeth stans. They have single handedly ruined the ships for me with their distorted ideas of character dynamics. And their blatant and brutal hate against other Percy or Nico ships is just ridiculous and heavily toxic.

It's a fandom, not a monopoly. Everyone can have their own little thing as long as you don't meddle in someone else's own thing. Let everyone enjoy their own thing.

And for all our sakes, at this point, just pick your own version of canon. Choose which books to stop at. Trust me, it's less frustrating that way.

[edgeray]

*vibrates*

So many wips… 👀

Ok so. IDK. I have. So many “want to sees”. So I’m just gonna list them 🤷‍♀️

Ghost Clervie AU. I’m imagining Clervie watching as Peruere- sorry, *Arlecchino* develops her “cold, strict, and unfeeling Father persona”. But she quickly reverts back to Peruere in the presence of Clervie when Arle figures out she isn’t hallucinating and this isn’t some scheme of someone trying to throw her off balance.

(I’m actually just realizing the parallels of Furina making her Archon persona and Peruere with her Father persona 🤔 Both masks are there in order to better protect the people that rely on them (Fontaine’s citizens and the Hearths Children respectively)). Anyways.

Isekai-ed Arlecchino. I’m just wondering at how that would work and how serious you would make the writing take itself. Like would it be crack, crack that takes itself serious, or serious? (You don’t need to answer that. I was just pondering)

Modern Cat or Bunny Shifter Arle. Arle in her animal form has a nearly 100% coat with the exception of one ear that’s black. It’s cute. Also, I see her as a bunny with floppy ears that are so long that she trips over them XD I’m giggling at the thought she might even be one of those massive bunny breeds too. This makes me wonder if the House exists and whether or not the rest are also shapeshifters. Like a haven for shapeshifters, if you will.

Pirate Arle. You know (you don’t, but I’m telling you 😅) I’m a sucker for enemies(who actually aren’t all that bad) taking in and caring for an abandoned enemy.

Historical Goddess Arle. I think the fact that Reader prays for a painless death rather than no death at all could be intriguing to Arle who probably regularly gets prayers from people not wanting to die?

Spiderwoman Arle. It’s not a want, it’s a need. I’m also a sucker for secret identity relationships. 

Arlecchino w/ Cursed Bio Child.

Alien Arle and Human Reader. Arle and Clervie internally seething at getting another runaway test subject (not at the human, at the fact they were experimented on). That(the facility) would need to be taken care of… (badass ArlexClervie couple who are leaders of an organization who take down illegal trafficking rings, experiment facilities, etc? 👀) Once the newcomer gets adjusted to their new home, of course.

Arlecchino x Alive/Knave Clervie.

Sorry if any of that/the extra commentary seems like I’m trying to press for any of this. Yeah, these are requests. If that’s ok 🙂

👉👈 Hopefully it isn’t overwhelming.

The Other End of the Blade

(Arlecchino x GN! Reader)

A/N - Hi anon, sorry for being late with this anon! I really love your commentary on all of your (mine?) ideas so don’t worry about it! I’ll put more of a response at the end of this.  This one is going to be pirate AU because I too crave some enemies to lovers right now. One piece is the only basis I have for pirates so apologies if it's not alike to other pirate media.    Those of you wondering where this list of ideas come from, it’s from my ideas/wip post, where I store all of the silly little ideas for fanfics. Feel free to request from anything on that list.

Content warnings / info - enemies to lovers, semi-graphic violence, heavily one piece inspired, got WAY too invested into this whoops, 4.0k words

Before you could read books, you could read wanted posters. Before you could spell out your name, you could write down ‘pirate’ and ‘wanted dead or alive.’ Before you could write, you throw a mean punch. Before you knew how to play, you knew how to fight. And before you knew how to count your fingers, you could tie knots. Before you knew what a Marine was, you already were one. And before you knew what ‘love’ means, you knew what hate was and who to hate: pirates. Hatred towards them coursed alongside your blood through your veins. 

Pirates are the scum of the seas, raiders from the depths of the oceans that have come to pillage towns and wreak havoc over the prospering empires. They’re sick people who only know how to steal and how to kill. They rob lives without an ounce of hesitance, ignorant to the misery and suffering they force upon people because of their actions. The world would be better off without them. That way, all people can live in peace without worry from murderers and pillagers like them. Pirates are everything you should hate and you swear that you're going to make it so not one person has to be afraid of their shores–they'll never have to look at the horizon wondering if they see pirate ships in the distance cruising towards them. 

If there is one thing that your family has instilled into you, it would be that a world free of suffering is a world free of pirates. Like every other family member before you, you've been set on the path of greatness that is to eradicate every one of those vermin since birth. The only aspiration you could have is rising the ranks of the Marines. Generations of your family served in the Marine, holding the highest positions. Being anything short of one of the admiral positions, (the lowest of which ranking fourth highest in authority) is a disgrace, a stain on your one of the most prominent Marine families. 

Rising towards the ranks was no difficulty for you. It's only about two years since you've joined the Marines, and you've already risen to a commander position. For reference, even the best of soldiers take four to five years to be promoted to that level. And you know you're about to be promoted–you just need one big case. Just capture one famous pirate, and you know that the Captain rank is yours. One more step closer to cementing your place among the greats of your family. 

– 

Water pelts across your face and the strong sea breeze whips around you. Over your own thumping heart, you can hear the roaring of raging waves paired with the wild flapping of the sails and the creaking of wood. Thudding footsteps rushes all around you, and the clouded sky flashes, thundering. 

“Lower the sails!” You scream at the men as they wrestle with the ropes. Seeing one of the men fumble, you grumble under your breath and shove him away to take over. 

“Get a bucket, and keep getting rid of the water. We need as little water to get into the hull as possible,” you command him, and that's enough to make him useful. 

“Pirate ship spotted!” One of the crew members states and you groan in frustration. A pirate ship at this time? You're only just barely ensuring the vessel does not capsize! Not only is the Marine ship struggling, but no doubt the pirate ship would be too. You release the ropes, seeking out the captain. 

“Captain!” You yell as you head towards him. The cranky man shoots you a snooty glare before turning to a Marine soldier besides him. 

“Hurry up! What flag is it?! Huh? Huh?! Give me a damn answer before I throw you overboard!” Your captain gruffly exclaims at the poor Marine who was holding a spyglass, pointing it towards the oncoming ship. You cringe at the Captain's voice, silently giving sentiments to the other Marine. 

“It's a… um… it.. um…” The Marine stutters, unsure of what to make of the flag. You grind your teeth before wrenching it out of his hands and examining the flag yourself with squinted eyes. In between  heavy rain and dark surroundings, you can just barely recognize the flag: a hand grasping a candle. 

Damn it! At this time?! 

“It's the Hearth pirates!” You announce, tossing the scope to your Captain to see. 

“The Hearth? You mean one of the Harbinger crews?!” The old man grunts before seeing for himself. His facial features morph into one of disbelief before hardening. 

“I want every cannon manned now! Get your weapons ready and drawn! All hands on deck!” The Captain demands. The confusion and disbelief was practically palpable among the Marines, and felt through their second of hesitation before the soldiers’ replied with a ‘yes Captain.’

Is he crazy? What the hell is wrong with him? As much as you would love to capture the notorious Hearth pirates, you knew now was nothing but an imprudent time. Even if the Hearth was among the less deadly of the Harbinger crews, that did not make them any less powerful. You have heard from other Marines’ hushed whispers that it takes at least a large fleet (5 Marine ships) to take down one entire Harbinger ship, and even that was theoretical. The Fatui pirates as a whole are damn near unstoppable, but the Harbingers themselves are monsters ripped from hell. As much as you hate to admit, you’re not strong enough to defeat a Harbinger, and you have similar doubts for your Captain. Where does he get this pomposity from?

The other men are struggling enough to keep this piece of wood afloat, and now they have to worry about battling pirates? You doubt even the Hearth is eager for a fight. Fighting in this storm would only lead to early graves for both sides. Winning against and capturing the Hearth pirates is unfavorable, but surviving past this storm is indisputable. 

“Wait, Captain!” You call out to him. An annoyed click of his tongue comes from him, as if you were the bother, and it only makes you clench your hands into fists. He turns his back towards you, irritation written all over his expression. 

“What are you standing around for? Get ready already!” He demands with a scrunched face. 

“We can't engage in battle with them yet! We don’t have enough men, and we're already struggling with the storm!” You protest. “We're in no condition to try and fight them!”

Silence. Around you, you hear whispers from the other crewmates, sounds of agreement coming from them. Evidently, this increases the captain's indignation. 

“Quiet!” He screams. “If we're struggling, just think about how they could be faring! They don't have nearly enough resources as us marines do to survive! This is our chance to capture one of the Harbinger crews!

“After all,” he pauses to give you a pointed, haughty look. “We have one of the members of the greatest family? We won't lose with you on our side, right? We're in your hands.”

You bristle, your nails digging into your palm as your lips twitch into a deeper frown. To think he would use your family name against you. What is he even trying to do? You're too stunned to respond and he brushes past you. 

You're absolutely powerless to do anything, and so are the other soldiers on this ship. No one here outranks the Captain. No matter how correct you may be, you would be punished for disobeying a superior's order. If only you could have been promoted earlier, then you wouldn't have to listen to this fool. Had it been you, you would have this ship steered towards the closest Marine base and report what direction the Hearth pirates are going. But you can't do that. You nod pathetically, and the rest of the men disperse. 

You can only watch as the smaller ship approaches closer and closer. As soon as Hearth pirates enter within the firing range, chaos ensues with your Captain's bellowed “FIRE!” 

A cacophony of screams and cannon fire sound through the air, deafening you, and the overpowering smell of gunpowder and brine swarm your nostrils. Like all naval battles, it’s always a blur–just a flash of colors and movements. At some point, the pirate ship approached close enough for them to board onto the Marine ship. You are not aware of this until you find yourself face to face with one of the Hearth pirates. By then, all rationale has been thrown out in favor of instinct–the most precise, miniscule reaction is what keeps you alive the most when it comes to battling pirates. Your surroundings fade from your awareness, your only attention on the figure before you.

She’s a young pirate, that you can tell, but her skills are no less admirable. She has an ever passive, unreadable face that makes predicting her movements hard to discern and even harder to catch off guard. You narrowly dodge another slash of her saber, and your cutlass swishes through the air, only shallowly cutting her sleeve. Despite this, she is far from deterred, and you have to parry another swing. The steel of the blades screeches as your blades clash against each other. Now at a temporary standstill, the both of you exchange eye contact for a brief moment. Lilac eyes, brimming with determination, skirts away from yours. She pulls away only to lunge again, a thrust of her blade heading towards you abdomen but you dodge, side-stepping it. The blade skims just past you, embedding into the wood of one of the masts. Realizing the given opportunity, you give a swift kick to the pirate’s stomach, disconnecting her hand from the handle of her sword. She tumbles onto the ground with a grunt, and you use no time to close the distance. 

Just as you are about to deliver another blow, a loud gunshot sounds through, making you flinch. A sharp pain erupts from your left shoulder and you stumble back from the young pirate. You cock your head, peering behind you. This action allows you to narrowly miss two oncoming daggers, though your cheek and neck get nicked. Spinning on your heel, you face the dagger wielding pirate fully. He’s a young boy, with a top hat and matching eyes of the saber user. Siblings, perhaps? The fierceness in his eyes confirms your suspicions. 

You charge at the boy, but before reaching him, a large wave crashes into the boat, water spilling overboard and throwing you off balance. The sudden impact makes you lose your balance, and you’re hurtled towards the railings of the ship, your back slamming into it. An audible crack emits from the collision and your spine screams out in agony. Lifting yourself into a crawling position, you glance up at the havoc over the deck. 

A bit close to you is your captain, fighting against a white-haired woman. Given the striking polearm she wields, that must be the Knave, one of the eleven Harbingers of the Fatui pirates. Her movements are graceful, every thrust and slash calculated and precise. In contrast, your captain’s movements are botched, desperate. Every output of effort from him is just for another instance of him scraping by with his life. Each parry with his saber leaves his arms trembling. He is a bumbling mess compared to the Knave. Easily, you can tell it’s a losing battle for your captain. He’s outclassed. 

You’re about to rise when a flicker of bright light catches your gaze. Your eyes widen as you turn your head to spot a bright orange mass covering a part of the deck, and it only grows the longer you gaze at it. The flames stalk towards you with a terrifying space. Despite your body’s protest, you beckon your body to stand. When you have both feet on the wooden planks, you head towards your captain to assist him in his battle. Abruptly, the Marine ship shakes, another current assaulting its side. Swept off your feet, your body is flung, your lower abdomen hitting the top of the railings while you roll off of the ship. It’s only by sheer luck that your hand catches the base of the railing, holding onto it with all the strength you could muster in your left arm. The rest of your body hangs over the ever-swallowing sea. 

Your grasp is slipping because of the rain. You grunt as you try to lift yourself with just one arm. Opening your mouth, you clench your teeth onto the spine of your cutlass, freeing up your right arm to grip onto the base of another fence. With much effort, you’re able to heave your head up so that your eyesight is just over the floor. You can spot the familiar boots of the captain. Every muscle in your arm is straining, burning painfully. Holding on for much longer is impossible.

The cutlass has to go. You let the weapon fall from your mouth, and it plunges into the waters below. 

“Captain! Captain!” The guttural outcry comes from your lips. There’s the groaning of wood breaking. A large shadow looms over you, and you lift your gaze. The mast above tilts down, forewarning its collapse on top of you. 

“CAPTAIN!” You scream out, no longer having the strength to lift your head above the deck. You dangle helplessly, your grip slacking with each second. 

You hear thumping footsteps towards you, and you have never been more grateful to see the unsightliness of your captain’s face peering over the railings. 

For a moment, he does nothing, viewing your vulnerable state. His lips twitch, a small smile stretches over his face. He turns away briefly, glancing in both the right and left direction, before focusing on you again. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure that they know you fought honorably,” he says, venom in his voice. “So go ahead and let go.”

Your blood freezes, and his face disappears. Your arms can no longer continue and you let up. 

You fall, plunging into the icy cold waters. The iciness does not just seep into your blood, but your muscles and tendons too, making your body heavy. Air is stolen away from you and you flail and kick to the surface for air. Everything hurts. As you sputter for oxygen, coughing out the saltwater, your vision catches the glimpse of a long brown mass toppling down onto you. It’s the last thing you see when something hits the back of your head, and everything fades into an inky abyss. 

—

Everything hurts. It's the first thing that comes to you when you are able to grasp even a bit of consciousness. You feel it in your limbs, your back, your abdomen, essentially anything above your waist has a stabbing sensation in it. A groan, followed by a deep suction of air, emerges from you, and you lift your head up. Your eyes flutter open, bright light stabbing into your eyes. You let out a pained groan, rolling your neck to ease its discomfort but find it unhelpful. 

Your eyes adjust to the orange glow of your surroundings. You blink several times to relieve the blurriness in your vision, able to see more clearly. Given the rocking motion and the familiar sound of waves crashing, you would reckon you're on a ship. Looking down at yourself, you're seated on a chair. You attempt to sit up, only to find yourself unable to. Rope digs into the skin of your bound wrists, and you let out a string of expletives in a single defeated sigh. 

“Did you learn that tongue from the Marines?” A cutthroat voice resounds through the room. 

You dip your head, turning towards the figure. A tall woman leans against the wall in the corner, a good bit of distance away. White and black strands, charcoal hands, crimson crossed-pupils, and the epitome of beauty and refinement that marks the appearance of the Knave. Strange to find that among pirates, of all brutish people. Your hazy mind clears in an instant, and you sit up straighter. The pirate captain's presence brings about your most recent memories onto the forefront of your mind in short bursts. With a forceful swallow, you recognize that you have been captured by the Hearth pirates. If you're alive rather than dead, that means they have some use for you. Whatever it is, you need to escape from this. You can only do that when you fish for enough information. 

Taking in your surroundings, you'd have to guess you're in some storage room. Stacked barrels make up the majority of the room. Perhaps if you're able to access the contents of the barrels, you can use them to escape. If not, you could easily ruin their supplies, including food and water. 

“I just thought communicating would be easier in your language,” you snark back, observing the Harbinger's reaction. Expectedly, she remains inexpressive, revealing nothing. She leans away from the wall, stalking towards you. Heels click against the floorboards. Only pirates would have the audacity to be wearing such compromising shoes out on the sea. 

She stands before you, unmoving, her piercing gaze smiliarly fixated on your form. When nothing comes from her lips, you make conversation first.

“Admiring me?” 

This earns a humorless chuckle. “There's nothing to admire.” 

Ow. 

A frown comes across your face. Acting coy does not work on pirates like the Knave. The Knave seems like someone who only responds to directness. No use in stalling. 

“What happened to my crew?”

“They were alive when we left them.” 

“And are they still alive?”

“Presumably.” 

You grit your teeth, lunging at her in anger. Your bounds don't allow for much movement, and it only makes your chair screech across the floor boards towards the pirate. “You left them in the middle of the storm with a ruined ship! You killed them!” 

“You were the fools that decided to attack us.”

“You would have attacked us first! You scum aren't above anything! How can I even trust your word? How do I not know you're not lying to my face?! How do I know you haven't slaughtered them all?!” You scream, thrashing against the ropes wildly.  

“I doubt any persuasion could relieve your distrust. I see that any sort of conversation with you will be futile,” the pirate remarks. She spins on her heel, heading towards the door. You're almost tempted to let her if it means the chance of never seeing her face again, until another thought crosses your mind. 

Why did she want some sort of conversation with you?

“Wait.”

The Knave stops in her tracks. “Are you choosing to be civil for once?” 

You scrunch your nose. “Never mind. I can't bear seeing your face again.” 

An audible huff comes from the pirate before she does face back towards. 

“Why did you… why did you keep me alive? Why did you spare me? Why did you…” You pause, recalling back to your last memories. You were knocked unconscious by falling debris, that you were sure of. You should have drowned by all accounts. You doubt your crewmates have saved you–you hate to admit it, but you would have sunk to the seabed before one of them had noticed. Your crewmates would have been too focused on the pirates to have. If it wasn't any one from your party, then that only leaves the opposing party. However, there is no logical reason for them to. You'd sooner accept divine intervention rather than pirates having rescued you. 

The voice in your head, the voice that has been fostered since your childhood, tells you that it is neither of those two, just a sick sense of karma. Pirates aren't capable of any good doing. If they've kept you alive, it's because they intend to hurt you even more. They're inhuman monsters who only know how to steal and steal, until nothing of you is left. Wretched people that shouldn't even have the luxury of being labeled as ‘humans.’ 

“Why am I here?” You finally settle on those words. 

Silence stretches for a single moment before she begins. “You encountered two of my children, yes?” 

You raise your eyebrows at the mention of ‘children.’ You're aware that some captains likened themselves to a parental figure of their crew–it seems like the Knave is one of those cases. You think back to the young ash blond pirates you briefly fought. 

“The swordswoman and the dagger thrower,” you reply.

“Correct. I found Lyney as a child, when I was wandering the alleys of a shoretown. He bumped into me because he was in a hurry to save his sister from being sold to a high ranking Marine.”

Shock envelopes your face as you process those words. A Marine? Someone whose duty is to protect citizens? A high ranking Marine? Someone whose performance and power is praiseworthy and yet they would do something like that? The thought sickens you. That kind of behavior… that can only pertain to a pirate right? It is not possible for a Marine to act that way. Other Marine officials would have never allowed it. She must be feeding falsehoods to trick you, to get you to betray your family and duty. There's no way this would happen. 

Despite your inner turmoil, Arlecchino continues. “When I took them in, fed them and gave them somewhere to sleep, it took several months for Lyney to sleep in his own quarters. He couldn't be torn away from his sister's quarters. Any chore assigned to him, Lynette had to be beside him. You would have to possess a superhuman strength to separate him from her.”

You could imagine why. Your stomach churns uncomfortably, hating the fact that with every word, her story seems more and more plausible. Why were you even considering this fabricated story? Why were you being swayed by a pirate's tongue?

“Why are you telling me this? You didn't take me to tell your kids’ sob story,” you remark. 

“Every single person on this ship has been dealt an unfortunate hand by the Marines. My children,” she speaks with a hint of indignation, her voice chillingly sincere, “have suffered and wept because of a Marine. Not one of them has ever had a good history with a Marine.” 

She gives you a pointed look, one that makes your blood boil. You hate it, you want to gauge her eyes out because you can see the glint of sympathy in them. “I see now that it's not just people having been harmed by the Marines. But their own people too.” 

“I am not some pitiful stray you found on the street!” You scream, having heard enough of this. “I have not been wronged by-” 

“Your captain abandoned you.” That is all it takes to silence you, and your outburst dies the instant it comes. Any protests on your lips is pummeled away by the heaviness in your chest that forms whenever you think back to that moment. Arms aching, helpless and dangling, and the man you relied upon to lead you and guide you, turns away. He left you, simple as that, to die. Why? You couldn't even fathom a reason. How could a captain do that? After all your service, after all you've done for him, he leaves you.

“You would have died because of a self-serving captain.” 

And you still have the audacity to try and defend him. The Marines are all you know. He was just one man. That did not mean all the Marines were like that. “He was just one man.”

“One man is all it takes. One man is one too many. And if that were true, no one else would be on my ship. I do not believe that all Marines are as revolting as him. Quite the opposite. But there is enough and that's the problem. 

“You may find it hard to believe, but we want to welcome you. If you choose to so stubbornly reject our hospitality and company, we will drop you off at the nearest island so you may return to your duty. But here, we at least know of loyalty and family, I assure you that.” 

The Knave approaches you. You hear the unsheathing of a blade and you feel your wrists relieved from their bounds. You gape at her. 

“Welcome to the House of the Hearth.” 

More A/N: I know this was really long, and not at all romantic, but I got way too invested into the plot of it all to actually focus on the romance. Please someone request a part two because I haven't enjoyed writing a piece this much in a while (i know my inbox is closed for requests but I will make this an exception. This was such a fun piece that really had me invested the entire time while writing. I would love to see Arlecchino's and Reader's relationship develop more. I hope you guys enjoyed this because it's now the longest request I've ever written.

I'm not done yapping, unfortunately. To address anon's commentary. First of all, never be sorry for the commentary. I love yapping, as you may be able to tell. I love hearing your guys' ideas and I think they're all so cool!! (I'm also lonely :v pls talk to me anons).

I love, love, love Arlecchino's character, and I so wish to see it more explored in x Reader fics (I have something like this in the works ehehe) and I totally see the comparison between Furina and Clervie (even though I don't ship Arlefuri).

I've already written Goddess! Arlecchino x Reader! I've linked it in case you haven't seen it before. I'm also working on an Alien! Arlecchino x Human! Reader, so not quite like the Alien AU! Arlevie, but I thought it's something you might be interested. I think that Bunny! Arle would be more like her plush in the Arlecchino animation, but seeing her with floppy ears is such a cute image. With the Isekai AU, I guess it really depends on my mood. (I've also put a different concept for an Arlecchino Isekai-ed AU in the same post), but likely the one mentioned in your asks will have more crack.

I really want to think you for your conideration of my ideas!! It means a lot to me that people actually see them and like can envision it and feel the raw potential for that story like I do. I know it took super long for me to get to this request and it might not even be how you wanted but I hope you like it. <333

Note to future requests: if you guys give me a list of ideas you want me to do (bc you're as indecisive as I am), I can pick one to write :33)

[meiguicha]

Handmade Love

Sunday x Reader - Idol AU

Please sunday pleasepleasepleek

//

Meticulously, a small hook goes between weaves of baby pink yarn as golden eyes peer over each stitch with intense focus. A few rows having already formed beneath his watchful hand, he briefly looks up just to check the short-hand instructions he had written down before continuining his work.

A few dolls standing at 10cm are standing in a single file line, each of them wear different articles of clothing ranging from hats and scarves to shoes and dresses. Regardless, everything on the pristine dolls are likewise crocheted with the same precision.

Photo cards, albums, photo booth frames, keychain replicas, the multiple dolls of your mascot, perhaps it would be more than safe to say that Sunday has a problem when it comes to you.

Of course, it wasn't as if he was throwing everything into a haphazard pile. That would be rude, to you and to him.

Just like the dolls, he had your photo books chronologically lined up on a shelf, CD's kept in their cases near the ones he bought of his sister's, not a single item was misplaced. Even the many clothes he had made, a hobby he hadn't foreseen picking up, were packed up in a pseudo-closet when not in use.

Maybe that was the most perplexing part of this... fixation? He's still not quite sure what to call it. Yet still, his many Darlings, a horribly apt name for how he treats them (and you), are absolutely spoiled to ruin with how many things he has bought and made for them.

Currently, he was giving his hands a break by watching one of your live streams. Tucked away in your hotel room, you had been simply reading comments and making conversation when a thought seemingly crosses your mind.

"Oh you all, I need to show you this," the higher lilt in your voice immediately caught his attention and as you fiddled with something out of frame, something unknown to him makes his heart speed up.

"Look! Isn't it so cute?" You smile, eyes crinkled into crescents as you hold up a doll clad in a baby blue and pink dress. With a delighted chirp, "My friend said someone wanted to give it to me but was too shy, so he passed it to her instead."

Displayed so very clearly on his screen was your Darling, in his handiwork. Moments of the past two days flashed past his head like a train and suddenly it all makes sense why Robin had been smiling behind her wings when he gave her the dress. Nonetheless, Sunday thinks he can feel the neurons in his brain shortcircuit.

"You guys are so talented, I wish I could do all this too."

"Maybe then Darling wouldn't be so exposed all the time," With a light laugh, there was a twinkle in your eyes as you glanced between the doll and the camera.

As if conditioned, his own twitching wings come up to hide what must certainly be his flushing cheeks from view upon your teasing giggle. Even if it wasn't directed at him specifically, he couldn't help but fluster at your praise.

Though he hesitates, and god knows hesitates, he brings up every ounce of willpower to type up a comment. And when he's finished, his fingers are shaking ever so slightly from the adrenaline.

You laugh again, sweet and dulcet and all too tempting for his ears, "Thank you Restdaysfordarling! Maybe next time you can give it to me yourself?"

Though he can so clearly see the screen burst to life with speculation and squeals alike, he doesn't process any of it.

No. Instead, as his wings flutter in excitement and fear alike, Sunday is forced to cover his eyes with his hands lest his scarlet face be known to the world.

Truly, what have you done to him?