#but yeah. monarchy restoration is such an easy choice

[llitchilitchi]

Litchi, what is the artwork you are most proudest of or which of your Aus is you fave 🎤

don't really have a favourite artwork (though I am kinda proud of the amout of comic work I did way back when) but favourite AU? definitely Monarchy Restoration. forever my favourite with the combination of renaissance fashion, fairytale-like aesthetics and the sheer fucked-up-ness of the c!DTeam's relationships

[ferix-writes]

Time Enough-Fluffy OT4 Happy Ending Fic

This fic was written as a ko-fi commission for @sinnerbeam! Thank you so much for supporting me through ko-fi! 

If you would like to commission me for a fic, please check out my ko-fi page!

Sinnerbeam wanted a fluffy OT4 happy ending fic about the four boys transitioning the monarchy to a democracy. There’s also a small mention of transguy Ignis right at the end. Hope you all enjoy!

“Ignis?” Noctis murmured one night, while Gladio brushed out his unruly mane after a shower and Prompto tinkered with a pocket watch at the desk nestled in the corner of their quarters.

Ignis, seated on the bed next to Noctis, looked up from his book and studied the King; he was flopped back on their large bed with his hands resting behind his head and his gaze wandering the ceiling.

“Hm?”

“I don’t want to be king anymore,” he said as he exhaled.

 He sounded tired and wistful, but not yet exasperated. Ignis marked his page in the book and set it down on the nightstand before folding his hands in his lap and turning his full attention to Noctis. There was so much to say of that request, yet so much had already been said.

Across the room Gladio set down the brush and began braiding his hair, but Ignis didn’t doubt for a minute that he had an ear on the conversation. Prompto kept his gaze on the broken pocket watch, but stopped tinkering.

“I know, Noct,” Ignis sighed, reaching down to run a hand through Noctis’ fluffy and freshly washed hair. “We’ve done all we can for now. All the things that could be set in motion at the moment are in motion. We can only hope that the council and the new committees will continue to run smoothly. And if they don’t, it means more meetings and heated debates and agreements made behind closed doors, but we will have to endure it nonetheless.”

Noctis hummed, indifferent toward the answer. Ignis was right, there was no doubt about that, but such logic was the same thing Noctis already listened to time and time again.

“It may take years, still, for a new government to gain the citizen’s trust and prop itself up on the unsteady legs of the first election.”

Instead of responding, Noctis sighed and rolled over to press his face into Ignis’ hip. Ignis’ hand followed suit and shifted to cradle the back of his head, his thumb still stroking reassuring circles into Noctis’ scalp.

“I know,” he moaned. “ ‘s just nice to dream sometimes, you know?”

Ignis chuckled as the King inched himself closer. “It certainly is. And some day it will be a reality. Some day far off, but some day nonetheless.”

Silence reigned over their quarters once again, save for the soft shift of clothing as Gladio pulled on lounge pants and the quiet tic-tic-tic of Prompto’s tools against the metal insides of the pocket watch.

Too distracted to keep working, though, Prompto spoke up.

“Won’t we lose all this once you aren’t king anymore, Noct?” he asked, motioning to the opulence of the room around them. It was something he thought about on the regular—not that he was any stranger to living in the opposite of the lap of luxury. The memories of his bland and lonely childhood were practically a creed he lived by—don’t expect anything from anyone; his needs were more important than the needs of others; and don’t take anything for granted.

Since becoming friends—lovers, even—and living with the King, those first two were easy to forget. He was lulled into a false sense of security by the blessing of wealth and abundance, but the third was harder to shake.

Why be wasteful and throw something away when it could be mended? It was a valuable skill on the road, when clothing and weapons and camping gear took more wear and tear than they were ever meant to take, and one that stuck with him to that day.

Noctis could easily afford another pocket watch—hell, he could buy out the whole store if he wanted to—but Prompto couldn’t let anything salvageable go to waste. He’d saved countless damaged possessions in his childhood. The prospect of their cushy lifestyle dropping out from under them suddenly triggered harsh memories of his childhood, where he could only have something if he mended and saved and took care of it.

Noctis rolled back over and sat up. “Nah. Don’t worry, Prom, if there’s one thing I’ll never escape it’s the wealth of the crown,” he said. “We’ll probably downsize to some grand manor on the north side of the city, maybe close to Iris and the Amicitia manor?” he postured, catching Gladio’s smirk out of the corner of his eye.

“A downsize, but a very welcome one,” Ignis echoed, resting his chin against his fist as he imagined what their lives would be after all of this.

“Five bedrooms, five bathrooms, a home theater-slash-gaming room and a big backyard with a pond, or that’s what I’ve always imagined, anyway,” Noctis said, not missing a beat.

“Huh,” was all Prompto could say in response, a little dumbfounded. Perhaps he was too paranoid after the year on the road, followed by ten more of darkness and squalor. That time felt like decades ago, now, but it was impossible to forget.

Gladio finally joined them in the main room and plopped down on one of the plush armchairs in the sitting area. “What’s your plan after that, Noct? Spend the rest of your days in bliss next to a fishing pond while Iggy feeds you?” he joked.

“C’mon, big guy, give me a little more credit,” Noctis said, sitting up on the bed. “I assume you’re only asking me because you can’t wait to get back to a life of camping twenty four-seven, living naturally in nature and all that.”

“Well if you’re gonna go fishing for days you need someone to watch your back.”

“I won’t be fishing all the time,” Noctis answered.

“What will we all be doing, then?”

Prompto interrupted before the other two could continue their banter.

Even though Noctis was confident they’d be fine, the prospect of suddenly leaving all of this— the Crownsguard and the Citadel and the restoration committee—kind of scared Prompto. A lot.

Where would he be in life without Cor giving him a job with the Crownsguard? Probably dead in the streets of Insomnia or wandering Lucis as a poor refuge. And now he was part of the King’s inner circle. He never could have achieved any of it without the crown, which was now in the process of dismantling itself. What would he do next?

“I dunno,” Noctis started, defensive. “You guys—We can all do whatever we want. We won’t have as many official duties anymore, but I’ll always be a public figure. I doubt I’ll ever be able to pull Ignis away from politics, so he’ll probably stay more involved around here,” he said, casting a knowing glance at Ignis. He got a knowing smile in return.

“Gladio will likely be welcomed into some position in the military, and you’ll probably be offered one, too. You’d be great at teaching cadets how to handle firearms and shoot.” Prompto’s heart skipped a beat at the suggestion. Again, he couldn’t see past his own fear and hang-ups from the past, but his partners were always there to guide him through the haze.

“But with the rest of our time…treat yourself. Focus on your hobbies. Do whatever makes you happy, Prom.”

Prompto broke eye contact with Noct and exhaled, humming a little in agreement as he tried to process the idea. He turned back to his pocket watch.

“What do you want to do, Noct?” Ignis postured.

Noctis sat, pondering, for a few moments. “I guess I just want to…relax. I want the people to get to know me—the real me. Not the me from news reports.”

Ignis nodded. “An answer befitting a true King.”

Noctis almost rolled his eyes, but stopped himself. “I just wanna move on with life. A more normal life. I wouldn’t mind…you know…” Noctis trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck as he hesitated. This was something they’d never spoken about before. “I wouldn’t mind having some kids.”

Dead silence reigned over the room for a moment as the other three considered the idea.

“You mean like…with Iggy?” Prompto said softly. Ignis looked to Noctis for a response.

“W-w-well no, not without letting him decide first and stuff. It was just an idea, you know? There are lots of ways for us to have kids—”

“I’m…not opposed to it, Noct,” Ignis interrupted his sputtering. “But there are many things to consider.”

“Having a child is very harsh on one’s body. A surrogate might be a better choice,” Gladio chimed in.

“Yeah, that’s true…” Noctis replied, unable to hide his disappointment. “I was just hoping that at least one of them could be, like…ours.”

Ignis chuckled and broke the tension by grabbing Noctis around the waist and pulling him closer to press a kiss to his temple. “I haven’t said no yet, Noct. There’s much to discuss, but we’ve plenty of time, after all.”

This fic will also be up on Ao3 soon. 

[themanofonebook]

—TELL ME ABOUT 19TH CENTURY PRISONS I WANT TO KNOW ALL ABOUT TOULON

We have the basis of the system, and we had active officers, which could be divided into three groups: commissaires, officiers de paix, and the Gendarmerie Royale; then we have inspectors (we’re talking the mud on people’s boots as far as the ladder goes) and the National Guard (a sort of on-call army for the monarchy moving out of the age of Napoleon where the actual army was stomping its way around Europe and into the Bourbon Restoration fuck Charles X I’m mad) which was not part of the police force precisely but would be dealing with revolts like you see in Les Misérables.

That’s what’s going on on the outside; move South to places like Toulon, the insides of the prisons, and we have something entirely different on our hands.

Firstly, let’s make something clear: corruption, which was certainly out and about on the streets, ran fucking rampant in prisons. I have noted one particularly good fic, the name of which I cannot remember for the life of me, which addressed the facts that if guards at prisons wanted to take a prisoner out and shoot him, the loosest excuse could cover that right up, and the only problem would be the loss of labor. We are talking about a system only marginally better than England’s: stealing in England would get your hand chopped off, or sign you up for the morning’s first execution; stealing in France the first time, depending on your age, would get you a warning or upwards of three years in prison; stealing again gets you life in prison; do anything more than that while there and you could be executed.

Suicide was typical of prisons; again, that fic I mentioned certainly had research poured into it, as it spoke of a section in Toulon where inmates would regularly throw themselves from the top of a wall to the hard sand below, killing themselves. If they did not die, there was a good chance that they went insane anyways.

In the early years just after Napoleon, the upper class took on prison reform as a sort of pet project; the only thing that the French hate more than criminals is the police, but, I mean, that’s splitting hairs and convicts come in at a very, very close second; but if it would make them look good and help them to feel like they were getting something worthwhile done, why the fuck not, right? Right. This began coming out in 1816, where children were sent to correctional facilities instead of prisons, which upped the ages of men working in places like Toulon (they galleys were made obsolete, they were either mining or doing menial production on things like clothing or tools).

But while that’s all well and good, you have to remember that these are hundreds upon thousands of men all being chained up in the same place for years on end. Toulon could pack itself full to the brim with prisoners and probably still have room for more, and you can bet that they were all working; if you weren’t sick, dying, or dead, you were out putting labor in for the State to repay your debt for… that loaf of bread you stole.

And you can see the type of society that that would create, one built upon hate and forming a sharp contrast with the airy, easy lives of the bourgeois and royals. Homosexuality in particular formed a means of subjugation, and of trade:

In regards to cruelty, this ran most rampant in jails. Officers on the street were actually required to look after the health of all citizens, including prostitutes. They were legally obligated to take care of the people they were overseeing, and had direct contact with their superiors, who could see everything that they were doing and receive feedback on them from the common people instantly. Therefore, those working in the cities had no desire to break the rules, as none of them wanted to lose their jobs. However, in jails, all levels of authority were grouped together in a tight, enclosed space with the unlawful. Patrick O’Brien said, “[Those who practiced homosexuality] were considered basically abnormal and corrupt.” (mtholyoke). The threat of homosexuality was used to gain the upper hand, and the hierarchy of prisons was skewed in this way. As such, guards were constantly exposed to something that they considered fundamentally vile, and this had a direct impact on their mentality. They were so thoroughly immersed in something seen as wrong, but accepted as normal and even expected within such institutions, and they were required remember that they were above it. These men were told that it is disgusting by the outside world, but were trapped in a different realm entirely, in which men who were considered beasts by the public are allowed to form their own “society”. This society, in fact, had its own language, one separated almost completely from French to the point where it nearly became its own sub-language: argot. Argot, by definition, is “an often more or less secret vocabulary and idiom peculiar to a particular group” (Merriam-Webster). Argot was a dialect used in prisons and amongst gangs and criminals specifically. Based heavily in metaphorical interpretation of words, Hugo himself asks, “What is argot, properly speaking? It is the language of wretchedness.” Of course, while argot was meant to be secret, guards on duty could easily hear whispers and snippets of conversation. Without saying anything, they picked up on this language of misery. Simply by working in prisons, they were distanced from society; yet they were still expected to go out and behave properly amongst people who had never lived even a day in such close quarters with thieves, vagabonds, murderers and the like. It was a strain on their mentality. They were, more often than not, no different than any other men; but, for whatever reason, they found themselves working amongst the foul and outlawed, terribly close to something that France saw as forbidden or repulsive. That takes its toll on ones mentality. Despite any attempts to stay “pure”, a guard may find themselves crumbling under the pressure both from their superiors and from the State as a whole.

So one, you have the separation of language; two, you have the separation of societal constructs. Homosexual rape was used as leverage, as a threat in order to gain status or favors, and we can deduce that convicts were not the only ones employing these methods.

We also have Javert’s note to the Préfet at the end of his section of the book. Now, I don’t tend to rely on Hugo, because his history can tend to get a bit wonky, but I pulled the bits from the letter which seemed relevant to what we’re talking about and I’ll try to back them up with what I know.

Secondly: prisoners, on arriving after examination, take off their shoes and stand barefoot on the flagstones while they are being searched. Many of them cough on their return to prison. This entails hospital expenses.

Status: probably true, as prisoners are immediately given new uniforms upon arriving at Toulon, consisting of a red smock, yellow pants, a red cap for the average con and a green cap for lifers. Prisoners were also known for tucking materials into cardboard tubes and then shoving said tubes up their anuses in order to hide them. They were being searched thoroughly. Chances are that they were naked, and not just their feet.

Fourthly: it is inexplicable why the special regulation of the prison of the Madelonettes interdicts the prisoner from having a chair, even by paying for it.

Status: again, it’s probably true, but it may have changed during that era of reformation starting in about the mid-1820s and stretching onwards; they may have been allowed a chair, and we don’t know the last time that Javert actively looked into the innards of a prison.

Sixthly: the prisoners called barkers, who summon the other prisoners to the parlor, force the prisoner to pay them two sous to call his name distinctly. This is a theft.

Yeah fuck those guys.

Seventhly: for a broken thread ten sous are withheld in the weaving shop; this is an abuse of the contractor, since the cloth is none the worse for it.

Status: I wouldn’t put it past them, and I sort of stand by the idea that Fantine would have had a better time of it caring for Cosette in prison if she was already good with her hands, being fed each day, working in a weaving shop as opposed to doing labor as men did. But hey ten sous almost buys you a cup of coffee so— no all kidding aside this is actually wrong of them.

So we move into the referenced era of reform, and, while it might not have happened in Toulon (at least, not immediately), other prisons began to shift, to change themselves: notably, prisoners were offered the choice between shared bunks and their own room, one illustration of which includes a picture of a chair. However, don’t believe for a second that this was for the benefit of the prisoners: under the pretense of reform, this was used mostly to keep men apart to stop the outbreak of homosexual acts.

More:

The years 1820-1840 were considered the Golden Age for penology in France. Within these two decades arose numerous reform movements sparked during the July Monarchy. The common goal of all reformers was to eliminate crime and improve current prisoners by rehabilitation. Some of the means to achieve this goal were…

Discontinue confiscation of property of convicted criminals

Reduce long term sentences to a maximum of fifteen years

Suspend the Provisional Courts

Change judges and public office position toelected positions as opposed to inherited or bought

Seperate convicted criminals from those who are awaiting trial (so as to avoid the corruption of the young and possibly innocent)

Prisons inspected at least two time a week for the maintenance of a clean and healthy environment

Guards chosen possessing “irreproachable morality”

Do away with life sentence

Imprison convicts near the scene of their crime as a constant reminder of what they had done

Public exposure of prisoners in chains and tied to stakes

Solitary confinement to take the place of the death penalty

Education of prisoners

So we’re looking at prisons getting better… for all the wrong reasons… but better.

But in the time that Javert worked in them (looking at about 1803 still under Napoleon), they would have been dreadful.

[blitzkrieg-mit-dem-fleischgewehr]

Ludwig and his Sexuality

I’ve wanted to touch base on this for a while now because like so many, we headcanon Ludwig to be strictly gay, which I have no problem with. In fact, I agree with it fullheartedly. So now, I want to explore the way he comes into his sexuality and the difficulties he faces when he does realise his predilections.

1806 - the dissolution of the Holy Roman Empire. However, there is a rise in German nationalism, or the beginnings of a rise in German nationalism. 

Not to long after in late 1814, we see the Congress of Vienna, which was a hope to restore order to Europe after Napoleon fucked everyone. It was also a rewind to restore the monarchy, what many believed to be proper power, or legitimate power. Because, god forbid that the people get a choice on who rules the country, or about their own well-being. And, in part, I don’t blame them for doing so, I would be scared too if I saw the power, resilience, and force that comes out of a country that has killed their monarchy and, thanks to Napoleon, created a code that assures the well-being of an individual human (man). 

What kind of crazy world would come from that? Am I right? 

What I’m getting at with this is that we need to see that their is this desperate grab to keep an old dying order. A conservatism that must be taken into account despite these new ‘enlightened’ ideas coming forth and building traction. It’s something you see even in the Ottoman Empire with more countries seeking their sovereignty from it’s oppressive ruler. 

However, I am missing the mark of this...exploration. 

For me, I see the Holy Roman Empire and Germany being the same person. In part because I view the Holy Roman Empire more like the embodiment of German nationalism but being a failure because their was more divide then there was union. I say this because despite the Holy Roman Empire lasting a good many centuries, the fragmentation from within it, well it kept the entire area quite weak. (Which appeased France greatly cause fuck the Germans, right? Bl )

Plus, imagine having to deal with city-states, prince-bishops, and so on. 

“We want this!”, “We don’t want that.” , “Fuck you.” 

So on and so forth. Just a bunch of giant babies that want to keep their territory and power.  

Now, Ludwig wakes up, no memories of his previous life and both Roderich and Gilbert see this as a chance to give him a better life, one without the chains of the late Holy Roman Empire holding him back. 

Immediately, there is joint custody. I say this because Austria, before the German Confederation decided to go with the lesser German solution rather then the greater one. Okay, I should add that it was Prussia, and later on that started to favour the lesser solution because of complications with Austria. 

However, I feel it important that Roderich, at least at the onset of Ludwig’s new life, be present. It’s almost as if Gilbert and Roderich are divorced parent and they both have custody over their child. 

Roderich becomes Ludwig’s tutor in most things academic as well as etiquette. And, Gilbert becomes Ludwig’s tutor in such thing as Military Training, Ethics in War, Sciences, and so on. One thing to take out from this is that, for one Ludwig isn’t being taught anything about sexuality, which is fitting for the time frame. There wouldn’t be any talk about it except for what he hears being gossiped around or from the curt answers he gets from both Roderich and Gilbert. I feel it’s important to point out that because of this, and the fact he’s so busy trying to learn all these things being thrown at him, Ludwig has no time to worry about whether he likes girls...or boys, for this matter. 

Which, for me, is a good thing, because when Ludwig starts figuring out that he’s not interested in females, it’s closer to the time that Magnus Hirschfield comes around and the Institute of Sexual Research is founded in Berlin. Not that, this makes Ludwig feel any better knowing that he’s not perceived as normal...and is perceived as a pervert. Then taking into account Paragraph 175 of the German Criminal Code. It makes you feel like absolute shit.  The one upside though, is that after the falling out with Austria, and then the unification of Germany in 1871, Ludwig finds himself mainly in Berlin. Another thing to note is that Ludwig has his hands full between 1807 (haven’t decided when he ‘wakes’ from his ‘death’, could be 1806, could be later?) and 1871.

In that time, Ludwig is overwhelmed with things he has to learn so that he can become his own nation. Plus, both Roderich and Gilbert would keep Ludwig incredibly busy. It’s not to say that he hasn’t had thoughts, I just feel that it wouldn’t be at the forefront of his mind because he has to re-learn everything about the world he’s living in again. 

Which! Is also why I think that Ludwig wouldn’t question Paragraph 175 because...of course it should be illegal! How could there be people like that....?

Yeah, sorry, Ludwig, life really can’t be easy for you.

Now, taking into account that the German Empire is a fledgling Empire. Gilbert would be occupying himself with the inner politics of the empire. Why, you ask? It would makes sense for him to deal with it, especially seeing as Prussian Bureaucracy is prevalent in the German Empire. BUT! Also because Gilbert was the one that brought on the Unification. He was the one that saw to all the politics, diplomacy, and strategic wars to bring it about. There would be no way in hell that Gilbert was just going to hand that over to Ludwig without making sure that the Empire was going to last. 

It’s here that I can see there being strain on their relationship. I could also see Gilbert pushing for Ludwig dealing with Foreign Relations. 

Isn’t this a bad idea OP? 

Well, yes and no. I feel like it can be seeing as Ludwig’s real life experience amounts to what he was taught by Gilbert and Roderich...and what he’s been witness to, in terms of Gilbert’s activities. 

I don’t think Gilbert would send Ludwig everywhere but it would be easy to send him to say, the Ottoman Empire, where Gilbert has already struck a deal to help re-train the Ottoman Army and oversee a railroad linking Berlin the the orient. 

But, this exposure also gives Ludwig opportunities to realise that...he doesn’t fancy women as much as he thought he did. A slow dawning realisation that there is something different about him besides being the German Empire. 

Now, let’s rewind a little, I know I mentioned that Gilbert and Roderich wouldn’t touch base on sexuality. I also believe that as nations, these immortal beings, that sexuality should be perceived differently...to some degree. But, considering the amount of stuff going on after the Congress of Vienna until the German Unification...there wouldn’t be a lot of thought in prepping Ludwig in absolutely every aspect of nationhood...which, in itself, would be something that a nation needs to figure out themselves. 

I also doubt that Gilbert would ever mention any of his romantic relationships (coughFritzcough) to Ludwig anyway. It just...it wouldn’t be something that did come up because it wouldn’t be important by any means for any of them at the time. 

When things finally settle down, I could see Ludwig having such thoughts, but I also feel that upon finding out that he finds men attractive, that he won’t want to talk about it with anyone. That fear would be the thing holding him back to figuring out what such an attraction would mean for an immortal like him. On top of his own criminal code outlawing it...and categorizing homosexuals with people who commit bestiality...stripping them of all their rights. 

If I were Ludwig I wouldn’t want to talk about it either. 

So, he doesn’t. He keeps it to himself, tries to find logical reasons to why he finds men much more attractive then women. Finds solace in activists (I’m going to call him this because it was activism in a way that he was doing) such as Magnus Hirschfeld. The man, and others like him, is publishing essays, books, research galore in hopes of re-appealing paragraph 175, because it’s fucking stupid to have it in the criminal code when being homosexual is natural. At least, this is what he’s trying to argue and he does help out with court cases against gays and really tries to shine light on the fact that it shouldn’t be illegal. 

It also helps that he founds the Institute of Sexual Research which is a place that Ludwig can go. On whether he goes, I feel that he would. He’d try to be discreet about it but he would go to find resources, to hear other people’s stories, to legitimize his feelings. He would find comfort in the fact that Berlin does have such a big underground LGBT life (I call it LGBT because although at the time it was not called this, at the moment I have no other acronym or word that I can use in it’s place). 

This doesn’t sooth his mind but it does give him a bit of an outlet, when I mean outlet, I mean it more in the fact that he knows that he’s not the only one. It gives him a very minuscule hope for the future. 

I also feel like Ludwig, despite being gay, isn’t the type to easily fall for someone or rather...to act on his ‘interests’. He’s had such a long and tiring internal struggle to accept himself, which I believe is something that doesn’t fully happen until the Sexual Revolution that started in the 60′s and went on until the 80′s....although, I guess you could argue that we’re going through phase II or phase III of that same revolution.

Anyway, Ludwig doesn’t immediately accept himself on the onset of this Liberation Movement, but he’s crawling forward into realising that fighting himself is not worth it anymore. By the 80s, I would say that Ludwig has come to accept himself but he keeps it to himself, very private about his life. 

Which is what factored into him not saying anything to anyone...or reaching out to other nations about what he was feeling. Plus, all the talk and gossip he probably heard about how so and so is a degenerate because he sleeps with men and so forth. It would keep anyone’s mouth shut tight.

I think....I’ve ranted enough but like the Gilbert & Fritz Headcanons, I want to touch base more on Ludwig (his feelings, his struggle and thoughts) and how he rationalizes keeping it to himself during the early 1900s,1930s, 1940s and so on. 

But now....I need to run off and shovel the world out of all this snow.