#i do not know if i would be able to handle having an entire royal court of ancient china in my house tbh

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

lilia dorm uniform vignettes + book 7 parallels

I was rereading Lilia's Dorm Uniform vignettes recently and honed in on the third part, which reminded me a lot of the events of book 7. I think it's highly likely that part 3 here foreshadows book 7, similar to how Ortho's Precision Gear vignettes foreshadowed the original Ortho's passing, revealed in book 6.

***Lilia Dorm Uniform vignette(s) and Book 7 spoilers!***

Quick recap, these vignettes focus on Lilia looking after a baby bat with an injury. The third and final part involves Malleus chatting with him about the experience. Lilia describes parenting as thus: "There's never a guarantee in life that someone will be there to support you. Once you fly out into the world, there may be days when you go without a proper meal and sleep on an empty stomach. You'll experience failures and setbacks. You may have days where your heart feels like it'll shatter into a thousand pieces. As long as you're alive, there will be moments—many moments, in fact—when you must face adversity entirely on your own. A parent must ensure their child can handle such harshness while the little one is still under their protection."

Knowing what we know now... It sounds as though Lilia is reflecting back on his time traveling the world in hopes of finding a way to hatch Malleus from the egg. Firstly, Lilia (especially in the past) has expressed sentiments about being alone. He was an orphan taken in as a ward by the Draconias, yet he still never felt as though he "fit", not with the way the senate treats him like a lesser being, and not with his two best friends (Maleanor and Raverne) marrying and conceiving a child--starting a family, something Lilia feels he does not have and cannot have himself. There's never a guarantee in life that someone will be there to support you. And that's true of Malleus as well. His father is missing and presumed dead, his mother died in a battle to ensure his safety, and his grandmother is kept busy with royal duties to be there for him all the time. That's why Lilia had to step up as his father figure--because otherwise Malleus would have no guidance, just like Lilia did in his youth, which led him into becoming closed off and unwilling to learn about the world beyond Briarland. He doesn't want Malleus--or any of his "kids"--to perpetuate the hatred and distrust that claimed so many lives and left scars on the survivors.

Once you fly out into the world, there may be days when you go without a proper meal and sleep on an empty stomach. This line is reflective of the experiences Lilia had on his travels. In the beginning, it was particularly difficult due to the prevailing anti-fae sentiments among humans. Lilia was not welcome in their communities; he'd have things and nasty words thrown at him and literally be chased out of towns. True, he's also had to deal with rations and always being alert while serving as a general, but it feels particularly frustrating in this context because 1) none of his men are around to support him in these moments; he is lacking the feeling of being a part of a group, and 2) the harsh treatment is being committed by a group for which he cannot retaliate, so it forces Lilia to stand there and just take it... Both conditions which are also true of Lilia when he is able to safely bring Malleus's egg to Castle Blackscale. The senate gang up on him, isolate him, and deem him unworthy of touching the heir... and Lilia can't do anything about it. He isn't accepted at home and he isn't accepted by the world. This makes it that much more meaningful when, later on his travels, he meets an elderly couple in Harveston that welcome him into their house and home. They offer him a warm bed, food, and, more importantly, they are his company. They want to hear his stories, learn more about him and his life experiences. They’re that light at the end of his tunnel--but those things aren't promised to him, and Lilia knows he can't count on them all the time, especially as he travels to the most remote regions. And don't we all fear that dreadful realization of being out on our own with no net to catch us if we fall?

You'll experience failures and setbacks. You may have days where your heart feels like it'll shatter into a thousand pieces. As long as you're alive, there will be moments—many moments, in fact—when you must face adversity entirely on your own. Again, Lilia is also speaking about himself. He was forced to abandon his princess and flee with her child. He lost his best friends and large sections of his home country to a bloody conflict. He took the senate's verbal abuse and degradation. All of this, he faced alone--even when Baur tries to stand up for him, Lilia silences his ally because, deep in his heart, he thinks he deserves this. The wild bat incapable of love, only able to slaughter, doomed to be alone forever. It's through his forced exposure to the world that Lilia learns to open up, and it's through the connections--after enduring so many hardships, so many trials and tribulations--he makes with others that he comes to learn he is capable of love. As Silver says, this must be why the happiest moment of his father's life is the moment of Malleus hatching. A dragon's egg can only do so with the love of a parent--and Lilia has always been that for him. Diasomnia is Lilia's new family, and he's no longer alone. The problem now is that it's Malleus's turn to learn harsh life lessons, and he isn't exactly prepared for them. A parent must ensure their child can handle such harshness while the little one is still under their protection. I think this line perfectly summarizes Lilia's motivations for leaving in the fashion that he does. When Lilia attempted to depart NRC without so much as a formal farewell to Malleus and Silver, many fans were confused as to why he was acting so callous towards his children. Some theorized that Lilia was lying about losing his magic or had some other ulterior motive for lying--when, really, I think the answer is much simpler than that. Lilia wanted to leave as soon as he could, without facing his kids, because that's just in his nature. As Malleus points out in the vignettes: "Is that why you took the approach you did? [...] I suspect this bat will thrive in the wild." This entire time, Lilia hasn't been the gentlest or the most prudent with the baby bat. He fed it milk from a cup instead of a bottle (which resulted in getting the bat all wet), roughly toweled it off, allowed it to hang in a tree when it may not be ready to fly yet, brushed off the possibility of it being hurt again if it falls out, etc. On a surface-level, it looks like bad caretaking. But Malleus wonders if it's intentional. Because the bat was put through those experiences, it can take care of itself once it has parted from Lilia's care. I suspect Lilia may think the same of how he raises his own children. After all, Silver and Sebek sometimes bring up how hellish Lilia's training sessions with them were. Some of his bad childcare is due to Lilia being disorganized and just winging it in the moment, yeah (something which Malleus comments on at the end of the vignettes)--but a lot of how he raises others is also built on the idea that this should make the kids stronger and able to stand on their own.

When Lilia goes to return the baby bat to its flock, he says, "Go on, little one. You can't cling to my hand forever. Get flying." Then Malleus laughs and remarks, "Heh, it seems rather attached to you. It doesn't want to let go." Lilia continues with, "I'm shaking my arm and it's still not letting go... Goodness gracious. I didn't raise [the baby bat] to be so clingy. There comes a time in every creature's life when they have to take action. This is your time, little one. Don't miss your window." And, at last, when the bat is able to take off, Malleus realizes, "[...] I must say, it was rather harsh of you to forcibly shake off the poor fellow when it clearly liked you. Did you intentionally act detached so that it wouldn't fall too far behind the colony?"

THIS WHOLE SCENE IS AN ANALOGY TO LILIA TRYING TO LEAVE NRC WITHOUT SAYING GOODBYE TO HIS KIDS.

In this analogy, Malleus is that bat that Lilia has reared--and when it comes time for Lilia to leave, Malleus won't allow for it. Malleus is the clingy baby bat gripping onto his caretaker for dear life. I wonder if Lilia knew that his prince would have a hard time with it, so he tries to have one last happy send-off--so he can grant Malleus the happiness of being invited to something, to be included, and to provide him ample opportunities to socialize with his peers from all the dorms and make other connections so they can be there for him when Lilia is no longer able to. Then Malleus was late, and the time for Lilia to depart has already arrived. But maybe it's better this way, Lilia may have reasoned with himself. If Malleus doesn't appear, maybe he can't be hurt. If Lilia acts detached, maybe... just maybe... it will give Malleus the final shove he needs to let him go, to open up to the people who are going to be present around him, so he won't "fall too far behind the colony", like what happened with the actual baby bat he raised. This is especially suspect because Lilia makes the same plea to the first years earlier in the party by asking them to please give Sebek a lil' push if he ever needs it. "Just... If you notice [Sebek is] ever stuck at some point during your time here... I would ask that you card soldiers give him a little nudge."

THE LILIA DORM UNIFORM CARD FIRST CAME OUT ON THE JP SERVER IN FEB 2023 ALONG WITH SOME EARLY BOOK 7 UPDATES 😩 It’s such good foreshadowing for what happens much later in the same book… OTL I just hope that Malleus is able to learn the lessons Lilia wants him to. Then Malleus can finally be the baby bat that’s able to take flight on his own and join a flock without his guardian at his side forever and ever…

[steddieas-shegoes]

i love him on purpose

for @steddielovemonth using red, white, and royal blue for inspiration

rated t | 1385 words | cw: forced coming out | tags: established relationship, secret relationship, royal steve harrington, wayne munson is the president (god i wish)

🔴⚪🔵🔴⚪🔵🔴⚪🔵🔴⚪🔵🔴⚪🔵

The news broke in the middle of the night, long after Eddie had fallen asleep, and just before Steve’s alarm woke him up.

PRINCE STEVEN CAUGHT HOOKING UP WITH FIRST SON EDDIE, ROYAL FAMILY INSISTS ON SECRECY

Every headline is some variation of Steve and Eddie being caught, but there’s no photos. Most articles point to the royal family not wanting to allow it, but they didn’t even know about it.

Steve’s been so careful, much more careful than Eddie. Eddie’s told his best friends and Wayne, who deserves to know when his nephew turned son is getting into things. Especially when the thing he’s getting into is the Prince of England.

Steve doesn’t really have many friends. He has Robin, who is more like a sister to him, and an entire advisory team, publicists, security…

He won’t answer his phone, which means all of those people have probably informed him he is to have no contact with the outside world until they figure out what to do. Eddie doesn’t know what to do.

They talked about hypotheticals, as any young adults in the public eye are wont to do. How they’d handle the press when they come out. How they would handle Steve’s family when they come out.

All under the assumption that they would have control over their coming out.

How naive.

“Ed. I have to give some kind of message here,” Wayne says softly, gently like he knows that Eddie is gonna beg him not to say anything until he hears from Steve. “Silence ain’t gonna win us any favors.”

“I promised he wouldn’t have to do this alone,” Eddie says. “If we make a statement now, I’m just throwing him to the wolves.”

“Not necessarily. Plenty of options with what to say. As long as we acknowledge we’ve seen it, they don’t have to have any other information,” Wayne says. “I’ll follow your lead, kid.”

“I don’t know what the right thing is.”

Wayne pulls him into a hug. This isn’t the first time they’ve had a PR nightmare on their hands, and probably won’t be the last. Wayne’s always been good at handling things just fine.

But this is something Eddie needs to handle. He accepts the comforting hug, then he decides to be brave.

****

“Forcing anyone to come out is disgusting, and the media has done it time and time again. In this case, they took something that should have been up to me, and up to Prince Steve, and made it world news based on a false report of someone seeing us together at an event. Whether we are together romantically or not isn’t up for speculation. We are what we are. We choose how to define that to ourselves, to our loved ones, and maybe someday, to everyone.” Eddie takes a deep breath and looks into the many cameras facing him, trying his best to ignore the reporters anxiously waiting to be able to ask questions. He’s not letting them, but they don’t know that yet. “Respect goes both ways. Pops has always taught me that respect is earned, not freely given. No one in this press room has earned my respect. Until you do, the only news story you can break about me is that I’m disappointed in the way the media has handled this news story. Thanks for your time.”

Eddie leaves the room.

Wayne is waiting for him in his office.

“Proud of ya, son.”

“Thanks.”

“Your boy will be here in four hours.”

Eddie’s jaw drops. “He called?”

“He did more than call. He caused a scene with every secretary in the building. He insisted he needed to speak to me.”

“He could’ve called me,” Eddie is pacing.

“You left your phone in here earlier, remember? He was desperate.”

“Is he okay? Have they made a statement yet?”

“They haven’t. They wanted to see what we’d do first.” Wayne holds Eddie’s phone out to him. “But I think he could stand to hear from ya.”

Eddie steps in to take the phone from him, but Wayne clasps his hand between his, holding tight.

“I can’t protect you from the media forever, but I’ll always stick up for you and your happiness. You know that?”

“Of course I do,” Eddie answers.

“That goes for your Prince, too,” Wayne smirks. “His family’s on thin ice, though.”

****

Eddie talks to Steve on the phone for a few minutes, but Steve’s not alone, and Eddie’s trying not to hide away entirely from everyone who cares about him. It’s a short conversation, but it’s enough to get them through until Steve arrives.

He sounds like he’s being stoic.

Eddie knows he’s struggling.

It takes nearly two hours of security for Steve to actually get to Eddie’s suite.

“Baby,” Eddie says as he pulls Steve into his chest, feeling whole for the first time since he woke up. “It’s okay. It’s all gonna be okay.”

“They’re making a statement any minute now,” Steve says miserably.

“I’m guessing it’s not what you wanted.” Steve shakes his head in response. “That’s okay. We can work with whatever we need to.”

“They wouldn’t let me do it,” Steve explains. “I wanted to do something like what you did. They said I was too emotional.”

“I think you’re just emotional enough. God forbid you show signs of being a human.”

Steve laughs. Eddie smiles.

“Have you eaten? Do you wanna get cleaned up? I know you hate how airplanes make you feel,” Eddie offers.

Steve tightens his grip around Eddie. That’s answer enough.

****

“We sincerely hope the media will understand that making accusations of this nature about a member of the royal family will not go unpunished. Whether it is true or not, we will be handling this discussion internally. We have contacted the President’s office to have a discussion with their team. Eddie’s statement today was not discussed with us beforehand, nor did it go through any of our approval, and should not be seen as our official statement.”

“Does your grandfather always look like someone pissed directly in his eye?” Eddie asks Steve as they watch the official statement from his room.

“It depends on which of us has displeased him,” Steve laughs. “If it’s my mother, his lip curls up over his teeth.”

Eddie pulls Steve into his side on the couch, turning off the television so they can have some peace. They sit in the silence for a couple of minutes, something neither of them get to do very often.

“Wayne offered us the house in Indiana for a bit. Said it might be nice for us to just be away from the chaos,” Eddie runs his fingers up and down Steve’s arm, smiling to himself when Steve shivers against him. “At least for a few days. Let the media move on and give time for your family to get the sticks surgically removed from their asses.”

“That sounds nice,” Steve agrees, leaning his head back to kiss Eddie’s lips. “I wanna do something first, though.”

Steve pulls away so he can get his phone from the coffee table. It’s been on silent and face down since he arrived. He types for a minute, and Eddie waits.

Steve sets his phone down and turns back to Eddie with a grin.

“Okay, ready to go.”

Eddie’s phone goes off in his pocket. He pulls it out and looks down at where he’s been tagged on Instagram in Steve’s post.

It’s a picture from the trip they took with Wayne to Indiana last month, the two of them by a fire with melted marshmallow all over their lips. They’re both happy.

The caption makes tears pool in Eddie’s eyes and a semi-hysterical laugh burst from his throat.

Doesn’t matter who pissed in his eye, as long as I’ve got you. Let’s go off the grid, baby

“You’re gonna be in so much fuckin’ trouble, baby,” Eddie laughs with disbelief.

“I don’t care. They know better than to cause a bigger scene.” Steve kisses the corner of his mouth. “Can we go to that diner when we get there? The one with the burger that have cheese inside the meat?”

“How American of you,” Eddie teases. “I’ll make sure Wayne calls Benny ahead of time so he knows we’re on our way.”

[coralinnii]

Congrats on 2.7k followers!! You deserve it! :D For the event, may I request Malleus, Azul, Jade and Floyd with a gentle giant S/O? As you can already guess, S/O is super tall (you can change this detail if you’d like, but perhaps they’d even be noticeably taller than Malleus?) and maybe even kind of intimidating because of it, but they’re very friendly, quiet, and gentle. 

Again, congratulations on your achievements!! Keep up the great work you’re doing 🥳

‧₊˚✧ My Statuesque Sweetheart ‧₊˚✧

↳ Tall Gentle Giant/Reader

feat: Malleus ❋ Azul ❋ Jade ❋ Floyd genre: fluff note: no pronouns were used with the reader, I love beluga whales (it’ll make sense in Jade’s ver.),

Sooo…being someone that can’t relate to being tall :I, I went around to ask some of my taller friends to know what’s that like, so this took longer cuz of research. I also got into Genshin to prep for another prompt someone asked me and dang, do I gotta research on that too.

Similar prompt: Tall!reader who loves hugs

2.7K Followers Writing Event 2023

You were certainly a surprise to him. In his long years, rarely does he find people where he doesn’t have to tilt his head down for once.

Despite your height, you were as cute and friendly as a woodland creature, a contrast to Malleus who exudes regal power without much effort. He’s fascinated by you as your stature can command the room yet your energy has a rather soothing effect on him and those around you. 

Man is saying you have zero scary dog energy, and that is adorable to him.

If you’re the affectionate type, congratulations! You’d be one of the few to be able (and allowed) to reach his horns. What started as curiosity soon became a habit as you made it your love language to care and clean Malleus’ iconic features. As a bonus, everytime you are done it’s fun to lay your head gently upon Malleus’, between his horns which catches him off guard no matter how often it happens. 

Having a tall man with money certainly has privileges as you now have access to his personal tailor as well. Was there a pair of pants you really like but it only reached your ankles? Not anymore, let the royal tailor deal with that and add some matching accessories to that. 

However you feel about your height, you are a sublime creature of beauty to Malleus. When he looks up to you smiling at him with the shining moon behind you highlighting your tall outline, he hasn’t seen anyone more otherworldly than you. 

You stand out amongst every human I have encountered. Hm? Ah, I do not refer to your stature but rather… the way you effortlessly capture my attention and ensnare my thoughts with visions of you.

Azul being around an incredibly tall person? What else is new? Azul doesn’t feel all that insecure about his height, before or after meeting you.

Well, you’re definitely the most pleasant person he knows that towers over him, at least. He knows that many, him included, would use your sort of stature as an advantage over others. Instead, he likes your rather sweet nature and way of conduct. 

If you have stretch marks due to your rapid growth spurts, Azul would feel absolutely touched if you trusted him enough to show it. Azul would genuinely praise your resilience to may have been an aching and painful experience to go through. If you let him, he could create a potion to get rid of the marks if it truly makes you insecure, but he finds you beautiful no matter what. 

Watch him flinch and get flustered anytime you wrap your arms around him, smothering him with your taller form. You would laugh to see him so easily out of sorts if you press your weight onto him. He can handle it of course, but the heat of your all-encompassing hugs is vastly different from his time in the cold sea. 

Azul would provide certain things that would suit your needs that others may overlook. Suddenly, you would find blankets that can cover you entirely, or you were gifted a coat that is actually a long coat that doesn’t awkwardly cut off at a weird length on you. Mirrors in Azul’s private room are always suspiciously up to your eye-level whenever you visit. 

He’s happy to know that you see him as someone reliable regardless of that. He has an interesting way of showing his appreciation

Do you like the new decor of the Mostro Lounge? The new additions are quite beautiful and eye-catching. The tall but dazzling designs were inspired by you, after all.

Oh my. What a sight to behold, you are. 

Jade doesn’t seem like the type to brag about his advantageous height, but he is aware that not many can reach his stature and even fewer actually pass him in that regard. 

He still treats you as courteously as he always does, even more so as the two of you start to grow closer. 

A nice bonus about having a tall boyfriend is that most of the things in his room are perfect for you! Beds you can fully stretch out in, actual full-length mirrors that don’t make you bend down, and furniture that doesn’t require you to squish yourself into. Jade’s (and Floyd’s) has become one of your favorite places to visit.

He does find it amusing that some people may find you intimidating because of your height as he knows that you were far from any definition of that word. Jade would chuckle to himself whenever he sees you getting happy or excited, like watching a playful beluga whale squeaking in joy. Your gentle features and bright smile shines through any misconceptions of your intimidating form. 

Though not quite used to it, Jade doesn’t mind having to crane his neck to meet your gaze. Especially not when he could watch your adorable quizzical expression as he asked you to lower your head to him, only to whisper teasing words into your ear. He especially finds it fun to watch you jump to your full height in flustered surprise, even occasionally bumping your head on a hanging decoration. 

Really, how could he resist you? 

Do you need rest, my love? Perhaps a cup of tea can soothe your aches and joints while you sit.

Oh, Floyd would have no issues with you being taller than him. Probably the opposite, really.

Don’t @ me but I fully believe Floyd has a thing for legs, be it his own or others. He’s so fascinated by these human features that you may even catch him blatantly staring appreciatively at your legs. 

“What’s the big deal? They’re right there, who can blame me?”

He will however, with full confidence, laugh his lungs out if you hit your head on the door frame or trip on an ottoman seat you didn’t notice. Maybe he’ll rub the ouchie away but he’ll be laughing while he does.

Be prepared for impromptu fashion shows with custom made shoes to show off your gorgeous mile-long legs. Floyd could spend hours looking through online shopping with you, showing you websites that specifically cater to tall drinks of water like yourself.

This man will be floored by the experience of being the little spoon of a hug. To be able to lean into your arms and rest his head on your chest, listening to your heartbeat while you  lovingly pat his hair? You can be unknowingly smothering him and he’ll be loving every moment of it. 

Regardless if you’re confident or not, Floyd loves to take you dancing. If you’re not confident in your dancing, Floyd is more than happy to lead you with every beat until you have fun. The man just loves to see the flashing lights paint your body, with your smile being the brightest of them all.

Did you get taller, Shrimpy? Aha ha, just pulling your leg there! Though, wouldn’t make a difference to me. You’re still a hottie even if you, hehe!

[lost-romantique]

Top 5 Moments from each Helluva Boss Episode (Season 2.5)

What better way to welcome the upcoming New Year than to give everyone my favorite moment from each Helluva Boss episode that released this year!

I would love to know what your favorite moment from each episode in Season 2.5 is, so feel free to go ham!

Full Moon

While absolutely heartbreaking watching these blorbos unknowingly trigger each other as their miscommunication reaches a whole new level of disaster. Blitz's tirade in particular, is my favorite, the sheer emotion, the anger, the betrayal, and the pain coming out of his voice is immense. Brandon Rogers, the voice actor you are...

" What?! FUCK you, Stolas! You spring this feelings bullshit on me, are you fucking kidding?"

"Can I get a FUCKING minute to think after everything you put me through, you pompous, rich ASSHOLE?!"

"Treat me like one of your little butler imps?! You can't just dismiss me like that! I mean, you royal fucks think you can do this EVERY TIME, like you can just play with our feelings because we're smaller and not as IMPORTANT! Well, I'm not letting you, BITCH! LET'S GO!"

Apology Tour

My favorite scene from Apology Tour is also my favorite heartbreaking scene from Helluva Boss in general. Blitz puts down the cake Verosika left for him, puts his hood on, and walks down the staircase as he's forced to see the carnage he unknowingly caused by hurting people the way he does.

This scene in particular, where Blitz watches Stolas supposedly having the time of his life dancing with BTB kills me because it's one of the only times we see Blitz completely give up Stolas, his "heart".

Ghostfuckers

Ghostfuckers is still most definitely one of my favorite episodes from Helluva Boss, and the scene where Millie comforts Blitz is one of my personal favorites. When Blitz feels like he's nothing more than a monster that destroys everything he touches, Millie tells him he's wrong because he gave her, her entire world.

"He gave me so much: a career, a husband, a future, and now... he's my best friend."

"You... you don't hate me?"

"Naw, never."

"Look. What I said earlier, you've just always been so unbothered by everything. Almost bulletproof and, I guess I never realized how much I depended on that. I didn't know how to react to you being reduced to…Bethany. But I should've respected you like you always do for me. I'm sorry."

Mastermind

Mastermind has so many memorable moments: from the beautiful Stolitz duet that I'm still obsessed with to the little cheek kiss at the end. However, no scene can beat the desperation and terror of this scene.

Just when Blitz came to the full realization of his feelings for Stolas, he now has to watch the love of his life die for his sake. Blitz sounds so scared, so desperate. He never wanted to die, but he especially doesn't want someone he cares about to die for him, for his sake.

"No! No, th-Stolas, you- you can't! You can't do this! Stolas please! Get the FUCK off me! Stolas! STOLAS!! Stolas! Fucking-use your powers, do something! Stolas!"

Sinsmas

Sinsmas was filled with so many great and beautiful moments, but this scene in particular means so much to me. We've now reached a point in Blitz's character development, where Blitz allows himself to dream of a happy life where he and Stolas can eventually settle down with their daughters.

It's a real full-circle moment for Blitz because it really shows how much he's grown as a character. Full Moon Blitz would never allow himself to dream of such things. However, Blitz, right now, has grown so much to the point where he is now able to believe that he himself is deserving of love.

"You okay, dad? I can handle this one. You know, if you're not up for it."

"Really?"

"Nah, fuck this. We're going home."

Honorable Mentions

Full Moon - When I See Him

Apology Tour - Blitz & Stolas' Argument

Ghostfuckers - Blitz's Lament

Mastermind - Blitz's (Supposed) Execution

Sinsmas - Stolas & Blitz's Dance

[thorne-kreizler-fanfiction]

Marital Promises

AO3 fic link

Relationship: Thorin×Fem!Reader

Word count: 4099

Summary: Thorin and you fought too hard one day, sending each other into a spiral of not communicating in weeks. One night he tries to make amends, and you hope it’s not too late to save your marriage.

Khuzdul dictionary: -Amrâlimê: My love

-Bunnanunê:  My tiny treasure

-Amralizi:  I love you

Author's notes: -English is not my first language. I am open to suggestions of fixing grammar/vocabulary and even revising entire works.

-This fic emerged after reading @fizzyxcustard fic “Misunderstanding”.

Suggestions: Enjoy, comment your opinions and share!

***

Thorin Oakenshield was King Under the Mountain, and you were Queen. The good thing about your marriage was that you two loved each other dearly, which wasn't the norm when it came to royalty unions. You and your husband had gone through good and bad situations before, experienced ups and downs and were able to sort them out; that’s how a marriage was supposed to work, encountering difficulties and handling them, always ending together and happy again. But there had been a moment when you two had fought so harshly it didn't look as if it could be fixed easily.

It had been two months ago, during the banquet that was set to celebrate the fifth anniversary of Erebor’s reclaim. It was a special day for Thorin considering how important it had been for him and all dwarves to regain their home, but his joy dissipated entirely after hours of not only not capturing your attention but also not being the first dwarf to take you out to dance. If you were entirely honest, you had been drinking way before the celebration started. By the time everyone was sitting at the big and abundant table, you had a great time getting to know new friends. Most of them were lords, who took your hand and led you through the dance floor before your husband could. Thorin was not amused by the way his wife seemed to ignore him all day during his special occasion, and even worse, because of other dwarves.

The next day, and the following one, and the one after it, he ignored you. Suddenly he was too busy attending different royalty matters; he went to bed after you'd fallen asleep and got out of the room before you woke up. You followed the routine, but he never showed up for lunch nor dinner. Even though you felt lonely, there had been previous occasions in which you two barely saw each other, so you'd thought it'd be over soon, like it had been many times before. But then you started asking the royal workers where Thorin was, and realized he wasn’t that busy at all; he had been eating alone or with friends, pacing the halls boredly, calling for extra public petitions forums and checking in different matters that weren’t completely necessary. He could have definitely taken some time to be with you.

So you confronted him, staying up till late one day to surprise him when he got to the shared bedroom. You had made sure to tell the staff you were going to sleep (because you had the suspicion he would ask them if you had fallen asleep before entering the chamber), and two hours later, around midnight, the door opened. You closed the book (which you could barely read because of how tired you were by that time) and got up from the armchair. Thorin spotted the lit candles and then saw you, standing there, and looked away.

“What are you doing awake so late?” He asked with a casual tone while walking to sit on a chair, which enraged you further because you two hadn’t seen each other in days and he didn’t even smile at your sight.

“I could ask you the same question.” You answered.

Thorin shot you an annoyed look before sitting down and starting to untie his boots.

“Royalty duties. You know I have responsibilities and sometimes they take all day long.” He spoke with some resentment in his voice.

“For three days in a row with no time to eat with me?” You walked closer to him and crossed your arms over your chest.

He finished taking off his footwear before sighing deeply and looking up at you, serious.

“Do you want to reproach me about something, love? Do it quickly, I want to go to sleep.” The king said rudely and got up. He walked past you, heading to his closet.

You were outraged when turning around and facing him. “Yes, I do want to complain.”

“Do you? Then go ahead.” Thorin spoke like he didn’t care one bit about what you had to say.

Then you exploded, accusing him of not living up to the expectations of a married life and being secretive with his own wife. He snapped back at that instantly, despite his attempts of remaining cold and unbothered. The king accused you of being the one who failed to fulfill the marital promises in the first place. He screamed at you, which only made you bite back. With uncontrollable anger on both sides, sleepiness taking over your ability to think before speaking and refusals to listen to the valid points of the other one, the argument escalated until he hurt your feelings, and you hurt his. It was a relief that the walls were made of pure stone; if they weren’t, the whole staff would have heard every harsh word that was screamed inside the royal chamber.

“Do not speak to me of loyalty!” He had said. “You were surrounded by dwarves who approached you unequivocally being suggestive, yet you did nothing to stop them! People might have thought you actually enjoyed it! At my own celebration!! That was an embarrassment. I’m disappointed in you as my wife.”

“I'm so sick of you! Of your pent up anger, cold demeanour and childish behaviour!” You had screamed back with tears threatening to wet your cheeks. “If I’m such a bad wife, to the point in which you do not even want to dine with me, then leave the room and never speak to me again!”

After that night, you two picked new bedrooms to sleep at, separated. The royal workers had been ordered to take the personal belongings of each and rearrange them in the new chambers. From then on, you hadn’t slept with your husband and definitely didn’t go back to the routine of eating together. It had been weeks since that.

You closed your eyes and placed your forehead into your hands, trying to forget about the argument. But the memories kept coming back, like a curse that haunted you. You shook your head, sighing. There definitely was work to do on your outbursts, as well as Thorin needed to work on his repressed anger. Luckily, a knock on your bedroom’s door distracted you from the memories.

“My queen?” You heard Halda's voice, your personal maid.

“Come in.” You said and your voice sounded quiet and wavering.

Your voice was worn out because lately you hadn't talked to anyone. At your request, nobody ever bothered you as you stayed in your chamber alone every day, only going out to read under the sun when natural light was very much needed. Still during those occasions you never came across anyone, avoiding all kinds of contact. The servants were to take dinner to your new cold chamber.

“My queen,” Halda said while entering the bedroom. “I've come to bring your lunch…” She took a pause before speaking again. “And to tell you the King asked me to bring you this…”

“Do not say more.” You interrupted her, looking through the window with a frown, watching the midday sun clean the white rock that held up the mountain high and strong. “Please leave it on the desk and leave.” You said with a brittle voice. The situation hurt you a lot, but unless Thorin apologized in person, you didn't wish to maintain contact with him. That was your pride taking over you.

“My queen,” Halda spoke again, after leaving the tray on the desk and picking the plate she had brought for breakfast hours ago, which was still half full. “he insists on telling you he wants you to join him…”

“Please, get out.” You ordered and closed your eyes. “I do not wish to be bothered.”

“Of course, my queen. Forgive me.” You saw from the corner of your eye that she bowed.

“Do not apologize. It’s not you who started this, and I’m not mad at you.”

“As you wish, my queen.”

When the door closed, leaving you alone and silent again, you laid in bed and allowed yourself to be true to your feelings for the first time in days. You cried your heart out, feeling cold and empty, until you were so exhausted that you fell into a deep sleep.

…

Thorin had been in the dining hall for over an hour. He had tried, since midday, to concentrate on his duties, but the thought of whether you would accept or not his invitation to dinner was unsettling him. Since he couldn’t concentrate on his duties, or in any pleasant distraction even, he showed up to eat before it was planned. The kitchen servants started to run from one place to the other, cooking as fast as possible and preparing the table for the king who had arrived earlier. When dinner was ready, the king asked to speak with Halda.

“Tell me what she said.” He demanded, his voice soft but deep as always.

“My king,” She whispered a bit afraid, knowing what was about to come. “she asked not to be bothered.” Thorin slowly nodded, closing his eyes while growling. “She never gave a clear answer, and she might as well show up when it’s actually time for dinner…”

“You can leave now.” Thorin interrupted.

“Yes, my king.” She rushed out of the dining hall.

“I'm so sick of you! Of your pent up anger, cold demeanour and childish behaviour! If I’m such a bad wife, to the point in which you do not even want to dine with me, then leave the room and never speak to me again!” He remembered your words, and the guilt ate him alive. Were you serious about not wanting to speak to each other anymore? Was the situation that bad?

Your extremist decision of never walking around Erebor had been devastating for him, since he couldn’t cross paths with you and try to talk. Of course he could have simply walked to your room, but he didn’t want to risk another fight that would make the marriage even more unsavable. There was also a bit of pride that participated in the making of the decision, but he was more than used to that feeling, so he didn’t realize. Your complaint of him not wanting to eat with you haunted him, because he knew it was a thing that mattered a lot to you; to share a bit of time together, even if it was only ten minutes, sitting close and enjoying nice meals while updating each other on their days and plans. But he had been so angry that he gave no care to the things that kept the marriage going, even during the busy weeks when you couldn’t see each other at all times.

His way of trying to start a conversation was by giving you what he had so selfishly denied you. But the thought that you had given up in the relationship filled him with an early grief that broke his heart. The big gate of the dining room closed, and to that it followed the sound of plates, cups and food crashing against the ground with loud noises. The king let out a scream from the core of his chest, getting up. He then took the tablecloth and pulled from it until he had thrown every bottle and tray to the ground. The guards flinched and the mess Thorin provoked was heard from nearby rooms, making the servants prepare themselves to clean the dining hall.

The King Under the Mountain left and the place remained silent.

…

You opened your eyes and stood up quickly after realizing you had fallen asleep. When looking around, you saw only darkness. Once your eyes got used to the gloom, you lit the candle from your bedside table and then the fireplace. You sat for a while in front of the big cackling fire, eating the food that had been brought to you hours ago, despite it being cold. You were feeling numb, but not physically. You couldn't think of anything or concentrate on your feelings, only on the rising fire in front of you, warming your body and blinding your eyes with white and red brightness. It was peaceful, really, and you very much needed those few minutes of silencing your brain.

When you were done eating, you decided to read for a while under the moonlight. You took the tray to your desk in order to keep a minimum level of order in the chamber, and there you saw it; a letter. You frowned, and after stirring in your memories, you remembered that Halda had left something Thorin wanted to give you. But that had been many hours ago. You dropped the tray, not minding the broken glass cup, and quickly picked the envelope. The truth was, that even while acting indifferent, you cared about your husband. A lot. No stupid fight could ever make you stop worrying about him or loving his majestic personality. What you had said about his “childish and cold demeanor” wasn’t entirely true; there was way more in him than jealousy and anger, which is why you fell in love in the first place.

You sat in front of the fireplace again and opened the letter. It read:

“Amrlâlimê, love of my life, who I chose as my companion and queen:

I wish to apologize for my manners. What I said wasn't fair, and I haven't been sincere with my feelings nor with you, Bunnanunê. I do not wish for that unleashed fight to keep affecting us. Please, do me the honor of joining me for dinner tonight.

Amralizi,

-Your king and husband, Thorin Oakenshield”

You covered your trembling lips with a shaking hand, then looked out the window and deduced that the night was nearing midnight. You sighed with guilt and ran out of your bed chamber, almost forgetting to put an appropriate cloak on. While you headed to the dining hall, rushing down dozens of stairs and running through multiple corridors, many heads turned to look at you. You even met Dwalin while he was coming out of a door in one of the hallways. Well, you rather collided with him.

“My queen!” He exclaimed, surprised.

“I am so sorry, Dwalin.” You sighed, agitated. “I’m in a rush.”

“Then I won't stop you.” He stepped aside with a nod of his head.

You lowered your head too as a quick greeting and kept on running. But before stepping down on another pair of stairs, it occurred to your slow sleepy mind that because Dwalin and Thorin were so close, he might as well know where he was. The king probably hadn’t been sitting at the dining table for hours, waiting for you. So you turned around and shouted so Dwalin could hear you.

“Do you know where Thorin is?”

“I do, my queen.” He said, but didn’t turn to face you.

“Oh…” You walked back and stopped next to him. “Tell me.”

He sighed and looked at you. “He asked to not be bothered by anyone, no exceptions. So I cannot tell you.”

“Dwalin…” You lowered your head with tears in your eyes. “Tell me where he is. I made a mistake and need to make amends with him.” Since you didn't hear an answer, you kept on trying to persuade him. “I think you and everyone knows Thorin and I haven't been… Well.” He looked at you with soft eyes, slightly moved. “You worry about him as much as I do, and I'm sure that if we don't solve our problem now, he might go mad.” Dwalin looked away, sighing and weighing the possibilities.

And when a slight impatience filled your chest with a tightening anxiety, you suddenly remembered: You were the Queen of Erebor. You shouldn't be begging to talk to your husband. Your marital promise had been to stay with Thorin until the end. What kind of royal member would allow their duties to be unfulfilled because of a disobedient friend? So you spoke again, putting on the serious demeanor that you’d been perfecting in order to use it during important political situations: “I order you to tell me where he is. I’m the queen, Dwalin. And Thorin was the one who tied me to him with a marital knot. If he really wished to be alone, he wouldn’t have asked me to be his companion! Now tell me where he is!”

Dwalin looked up, surprise and concern invading his eyes, since it was the first time you snapped at him like that. “He's at the forge.” The dwarf answered, not yet convinced he was doing the right thing by disobeying a direct order from Thorin.

You looked at him with a big smile, whispered a “Thank you” and rushed to the forge.

…

The rhythmic sound of the hammer against the iron and the king's groans filled the place, along with a permanent heat that came from the lit forge. He was still thinking about you. It had not been possible for him to take you out of his mind during the night, so he made it his goal to stay there, crafting and refining to appease his feelings. Even before opening the gate, you could hear your husband’s growls, and it worried you. It wasn't a new thing for him to calm himself down with his crafting, but this time, you knew  you were the cause for his anger. You opened the gate slowly, almost not wanting him to hear you. But he did, and the sound of the hammer stopped so suddenly that the utter silence still reproduced the echo of the previous hitting.

“I asked not to be interrupted.” Thorin said with a low but agitated voice. “Now what could be so important…?!” He turned around, and when he saw you, the hammer fell to the ground with a loud noise.

The place remained silent, only the forging fire daring to make a noise. You couldn't look at him, much less talk to him. For a moment you thought of running back to your lonely chamber and locking yourself up. What if he was still mad? And what if he didn't want to see you? What if it was all lost already?

“Amrâlimê.” Thorin whispered and slowly approached you.

In that moment, all fear and doubt vanished. You remembered the times he called you that, kissed you and made you remember you were his one. And when you saw him, you remembered how much you loved and longed to be with him. His lips were parted, threatening to form a smile. His eyes were shiny, big and expectant. There was a sudden light that traveled his face and set hope in him, which turned his expression so soft you could melt like the iron he had just been working with. He had sweat on his face and was almost completely covered in dust from working; despite not being clean, you always thought that look was so masculine and sexy. When you met his gaze, Thorin seemed to take it as a sign that you weren’t going to run away or shout at him, and he quickened his steps. He stood in front of you, took your hands in his and got on one knee, resting his forehead on your wrists while kissing your knuckles.

“Amrâlimê…” He repeated, and you felt his warm breath against your hand. You were frozen despite the heat of the place. “You are here.”

“Yes, I am.” You whispered, not really knowing what to say.

“You sound doubtful.” Thorin said, insecure, and slowly raised his head, linking your gazes. His eyes were so passionate that they filled your own self with strong emotions. “Don't you want to be with me?”

“I do! I do. I do want to be with you.” You said quickly. “The thing is… I wasn't expecting this reaction from you.”

“After many moons of not meeting with you, how else would I react?” He asked, getting up. You could watch him closer then, admiring his bright eyes and paying attention to every one of his handsome features.

“I never thought you would want to see me again.” You said lowly, lowering your gaze.

“Why wouldn't I want to see you?” He asked, confused. “I love you. I asked you to be my wife…”

“And I accepted! Because I love you too… But you’ve pushed me away, love.”

“But why would you think I don’t want to see you for weeks?” Thorin seemed so sincerely confused it annoyed you. How could he not know?

You looked at him raising your eyebrows, outraged. “Allow me to think.” You said looking at the ceiling and crossing your arms. “First you avoided me for days, then you screamed at me, and called me a bad wife. After that you agreed to sleep in separate rooms, then you did not come looking for me in months, and you just told Dwalin not to be bothered by anyone! No exceptions, he said…”

He chuckled lightly at the end and shook his head. He looked so beautiful that suddenly all your pent up desire bloomed and you wanted to jump at him and kiss him hard. “I ordered that to Dwalin because I did not think of the possibility you would look for me.” He explained, a bit ashamed.

“Why wouldn't I look for you? Even though you hurt me…” You swallowed, a cry threatening to come back and making a lump in your throat. “Why would I reject an apology?”

This time Thorin was the one who raised his eyebrows. “Well, allow me to think.” He mimicked your corporal actions and voice tone comically, surprisingly making you laugh. “First you ignored me all day during my celebration feast, then you accused me of not being a good lover, after that you told me to not speak to you ever again. You suggested sleeping in separate rooms, locked yourself in your chamber for months, and on top of it all you did not come to join me for dinner tonight…”

It was your turn to shake your head with an amused smile. “I fell asleep before reading your letter.” You explained, chuckling softly and feeling your body relax slightly; it wasn’t as bad as you had thought it would be. After all, you had chosen a good husband. You could sort things out, even when the situation was bad; that had been your marital promise. So you decided to abandon all your pride by then. “I'm really sorry, love.” You looked at him with sad eyes and lips tightened in a straight line. Guilt had done its damage to you too.

Thorin shook his head and placed your foreheads together, holding onto your hands dearly. It kept surprising you how soft and careful he could be with such big hands, strong body and imposing looking. “I am sorry, Bunnanunê. You were right; I failed to fulfill my husband duties.”

“I also forgot my vows when I abandoned you and refused to fix things immediately.” You sighed, closing your eyes. “I’m afraid both of us have failed to keep up with our promises.”

He was silent for a moment, then whispered “I am working on a ring at the moment. I’ll look for your favorite gem tomorrow to complete it, and we’ll renew our vows when I gift you the ring.”

You opened your eyes and looked at him with a big smile and a tear already making its way down your face. You couldn’t believe your ears; after all that happened, he kept finding ways of mending the relationship. You were so, so lucky to have him as a husband. Someone who tried, very hard, to stay with you and be a good companion. You nodded intensely and he smiled too, then lowered his hands to your waist. You both looked at each other, melting in a hug and closing your eyes. Little by little, you got closer and closer until you kissed. It was a slow kiss, deep, loving and letting show how much your bodies had missed each other those past weeks. You two had a lot to talk about Thorin's management of his emotions and your dangerous outbursts, but that kiss told you that you wouldn't have to be alone. You would work together in the amending of your own selves and the relationship you so madly wanted to keep forever. The marital promises had to be repeated, and this time, kept.

***

[starryevermore]

the house of snow (8) ✧ coriolanus snow

the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board| ao3

pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his. 

chapter summary: sejanus crosses a line. 

word count: 5,961

series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later

chapter warnings?: scheming sejanus, jealous!coryo, angry!coryo, arguing, threats of execution, pet name (petal), not proofread

Thank you for the invitation. Though it was signed by Coryo, I imagine that you are the one who advocated for my presence at tonight’s opera. I appreciate that you hold our friendship in such high regard. That is why I write to you now. Ma has already confirmed our attendance for tonight, but I was hoping that I might be able to speak to you in private. During intermission, please meet me—

A knock at your door startled you out of your thoughts. 

“Are you nearly ready?” your father asked from the other side of your door. 

“Just a moment more!” you called out, hurrying to return the letter to its envelope. You rose from your seat at the vanity, sparing a glance at your reflection to ensure nothing was out of place, before tucking the letter in your trunk at the end of your bed. 

When you reached your door, you took a breath. Your father was a perceptive man. If he saw your nerves were jumbled, he would have questions and you could not handle questions at this moment. 

Your father smiled as you opened the door. Then he frowned, glancing around the room behind you. “Where is your lady’s maid?”

“I dismissed her after I finished getting ready. I wanted some time to go through my correspondence.” It was perhaps best to tell the truth in that regard. What your father didn’t need to know what that you were just reading the one letter, over and over and over again, trying to surmise if it was real, if there was a trick being played against you. 

“I should hope you were not writing any replies. The last thing you need is to get ink everywhere.”

“No, Papa, I was only reading them and sorting out which ones needed to be replied to first.” Well, that was a lie. But it was harmless enough. You hoped. 

When you received Sejanus’s letter in the mail, it confused you. You were never the sort of friends that wrote to each other. It certainly would have been presumptuous if you had. But when you read the contents of the letter, learned of his proposed plan, it only served to confuse you further. You had spent the entire day reading the letter as your lady’s maid pinned your hair into an elaborate updo, applied your makeup, and even as you dressed. You were half sure that if you read it enough times, Sejanus himself might materialize to tell you it was all just a clever joke. That he didn’t really mean it. You knew Sejanus well enough, though, to know that he was quite serious about these sorts of things. 

Your father nodded, then extended his arm for you to take. You slipped your hand around his arm and allowed him to guide you downstairs. He was silent for a moment while you walked, but when he reached the top of the stairs, he stopped. 

“Is there something wrong?” you asked. Had he already caught on to your ruse? Would he demand to see the letters and know that there was only one? Would he tell Snow? 

“I wanted to thank you for your cooperation,” he said. “I know this match was not what you hoped it to be, but I swore when you were born that I would do everything in my power to ensure that you are taken care of for life. You may not have gotten the love match you wished for, but you will be marrying into a reputable family with the resources available to provide you the best life imaginable. His Majesty will take care of you. He will be a good husband to you.”

“You cannot possibly know that.”

He sniffed, then conceded, “No, I suppose I don’t. But His Majesty was incredibly persistent. He had been asking for your hand for some time—”

“What?”

He blinked, as if he was surprised you didn’t know. But how could you? How could you have known? “When you graduated from the Academy, he asked for your hand. I suppose he hoped for you to join him on base while he served as a Peacekeeper. That certainly wouldn’t have been an appropriate life for you, so I told him no. Then when he returned, he asked again. I told him I wished to see him prove himself to be a worthy husband for you. I never imagined that he would become King, of course, but it was a pleasant surprise. A welcome one, really, all things considered. Just before the season began this year, he asked again. I had no reason to tell him no, except that I wished for him to properly court you before we reached any firm agreement.”

You did the math in your head. If what your father said was true… “I’m four and twenty. If he has been asking since I graduated, then he has wanted to marry me for five years.”

“Longer, I presume. He already had a ring when he asked for your hand the first time.” He looked down at your hand. “The same one, if memory serves well. Cleaner, though.”

That…You didn’t know what to do with that. How long had Snow been vying for your attention? Even with Sejanus’s revelation that Snow’s feelings for you had been genuine, you assumed it was a recent development. Certainly not something that extended back to your schooldays. Had the bickering always been one-sided? No, that couldn’t be…

“We hated each other in school. We tormented each other,” you said, more to yourself than your father. 

But he laughed as if you spoke to him. “Sometimes, boys are mean to the girls they are interested in. Any attention is better than no attention, in their eyes.”

“I don’t know what to do with this,” you admitted. 

“Know that you will be loved. I have never seen any man be so dedicated to something, someone, for it not to be done out of love.”

Downstairs, the butler announced Snow’s arrival. Snow entered the room, his blue eyes immediately finding yours. Your father moved to start down the stairs, but you remained planted firmly in place. A question nagged at your mind. If Snow had been asking for your hand for five years…

“Why did you act like I had to convince Snow to marry me when the season started? If you all but promised him my hand?”

His eyebrows raised. “My little dove, you have never done what you were told. If I said that you were to be wed to His Majesty, you would have all but runaway to avoid it.”

“But why act like it was my responsibility to get his attention? To throw myself at his feet when he already wanted to marry me?”

He was silent for a moment, contemplating his words. Finally, he settled on, “If you thought that you were serving your family by pursuing His Majesty, I had hoped that you would have seen his intentions were pure and good. It might not have been a love match in the traditional sense, but it would not have been a loveless arrangement.”

Nothing, you thought, about Snow was pure and good. “My fate was already set in stone. It didn’t matter what I did, you would have married me off regardless.”

“Don’t put it like that, little dove—”

You dropped your father’s arm, gathered your skirts, and walked down the stairs alone as Snow moved to wait for you at the bottom. A smile grew on his face as he watched you. It looked so genuine. You supposed it was. 

Snow held his arm out to you as you reached the last few steps. You slipped your hand into his, letting him guide you down the final steps, before holding onto his bicep when you reached the ground floor.

“I like that color on you,” he said, eyeing the blue fabric. 

“You should. It took Tigris hours to find the shade closest to your eyes.” Your mother was insistent that, as the future Queen, you should build your wardrobe to complement your future husband as much as possible. 

“I shall send her my compliments then. Are you ready to leave?”

You nodded. 

“Good. We shall be riding alone this evening. Will that be alright?”

It wouldn’t have mattered if it did. Everyone else in your life was making decisions for you. Choosing what was best for you without ever asking what you wanted. What you desired. But you were angry at your father. Angry at both of your parents, because you were sure your mother knew something about this, too. Angry that they both would keep this from you instead of just telling you that you were to marry the King. You might have respected their decision more if they had. 

“I should kill my parents if I have to spend a moment with them tonight.”

Snow blinked. “Should I be concerned?”

“If you value your life, then you shouldn’t be.”

At that, Snow let out a huff of a laugh. “To kill the King would be treason.”

“Is a threat worth the same weight?”

“I would imagine so.”

“Then string me up at the gallows.”

He shook his head at you. He looked amused, like he didn’t take your words seriously. He probably thought you were just bickering to get on his nerves like you always did. “I would make an exception for you, petal.”

You turned your head, looking back up at your father, who still stood at the top of the stairs, dumbfounded. You turned back to Snow. “I wouldn’t kill you, for what it’s worth. As it turns out, you are the only person who has been honest with me recently.”

A frown settled on Snow’s face. “Is everything alright?”

You rolled your tongue over your teeth, contemplating whether you should tell him or not. It would be nice to vent, even to someone like Snow. But you didn’t wish to do it in front of your father, the source of your ire. And you weren’t sure you wouldn’t cry if you did talk about it. “I don’t wish to ruin my evening any further. Shall we go?”

Snow looked you over. Seeing nothing that would demand his immediate concern, he said, “We shall. But if you change your mind…”

“I will tell you if I do.”

The ride to the opera house was quiet. You weren’t sure if Snow was silent because he was giving you the space you asked for, or if he was concerned that your ire might soon turn on him. But he held your hand the entire time, his thumb stroking over your knuckles. Ordinarily, you would have been annoyed at the action. It was merely another way for Snow to exert a level of control over you. This time, however, it brought you some modicum of comfort. 

“I invited the Plinths per your request,” he murmured.

That should have lifted your spirts, but it only made your stomach churn. You couldn’t let Snow know that, of course. As hard as you fought for the Plinths’ presence, he would be less than pleased if you revealed you wished he hadn’t extended the invitation. “Thank you.” You squeezed his hand, more for your comfort than his own. “I appreciate that.”

Even if you didn’t appreciate it in the moment, you probably would appreciate his willingness to abide by your wishes in the future (though, you supposed you did have to coerce him to do it). 

Snow smiled and squeezed your hand back. “And I appreciate your vivaciousness. Even if it makes me want to pull my hair out.”

“That would be a shame,” you said before you could really think. 

“What?”

Well, you already got this far. You might as well finish the thought. “The nicest part about you is your hair. If you pulled it all out, you wouldn’t have anything going for you.”

Snow laughed—a genuine laugh. “If my hair is the key to gaining your affections, then I shall be sure to not pull it out.”

You laughed, too. It was…odd. How light you felt with Snow now. Though you still objected to how he asked for your hand, how your father gave you no choice in this matter, it was different knowing that Snow might not be doing all of this as some way to spite you. To get back at you for all the fights you had with him over the years.

The pit in your stomach burrowed deeper. If Snow found out about Sejanus’s letter, Sejanus’s plan, you could not imagine it ending well. Any semblance of goodwill he held for you could be ruined in a matter of minutes. Would you be set up for a miserable marriage if you withheld the information from him? 

“Snow, I—”

The carriage lurched to a halt. Your words died in your throat as the door opened. Snow stepped out first, then held a hand out for you to take. He helped you out of the carriage, his hands settling on your waist as you gained your footing. Your breath caught in your throat at the feeling. 

As you moved to take Snow’s arm, he asked, “Would you like to wait for your parents or would you like to go our seats?”

You glanced back, seeing your family carriage in the distance. The idea of seeing your father again made you grind your teeth together. “Let’s go inside.”

Snow led you to one of the Lord’s Rooms where you would sit in the upper balcony of the opera house. It had been some years since you had been able to sit in one of the Lord’s Rooms. Since your time at the Academy, you supposed. These seats were saved for the upper echelon of the Capital’s elite. While your parents certainly were wealthy and titled, they could not quite afford such expensive seats. Truthfully, for a long time after the war ended, only the King and some dukes could afford it. It was only in recent years that marquesses, earls, and viscounts could begin sitting there again. 

You took a seat front and center of the Lord’s Room, Snow taking the seat to your left. A smile tugged at his face as you tried to not let your jaw fall slack. 

“Are you pleased with the seats, petal?” he asked. 

“It’s perfect,” you admitted, because it was. 

When you looked over at him, his smile had grown, his chest ever so slightly puffed out. Oh, he was proud of himself for this. You supposed he should be. If he had been vying for your attention for as long as your father insinuated, you imagined there was no limit to the lengths Snow would go to make you happy. 

“Good.”

You were curious, though, to the lengths that Snow would go. “What would you have done if I was displeased?”

“Erect an opera house to your exact specifications.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips. To suggest such a thing was absurd. You were an intelligent young woman to be sure, but you hardly had the education required to design an opera house that both functioned as necessary and would not topple over in a gust of wind. “Then we should be thankful I am content here or else we might have to test the limits to the royal family’s protection from liability.”

Snow waved that off, though he still smirked at you referring to yourself as part of the royal family. “I would send anyone who would even think to sue you to the gallows.”

“So protective,” you teased. There was silence, for a moment, as you looked at Snow. Conversation was flowing easily, with none of its usual bite. Perhaps talking about your conversation with your father would be nice. To at least alleviate the stress you carried in your shoulders. “I am upset with my papa because of you.”

And that, perhaps, was the worst way to begin the conversation when you saw the way Snow’s smile turned into a frown. Oh dear, he probably thought you were trying to pick a fight. “I beg your pardon?”

“What I mean to say is, at the beginning of the season, when it was announced you were seeking a bride, my papa told me that I had to do whatever it took to win you over, even sacrifice my ideals. He made it seem as if it was something I had to do for the family. I refused, of course, but that did nothing to stop you from seeking me out. I wondered why for a long while, spent a long time convinced it was because you were trying to get back at me for all our quibbles over the years. But then I remembered Sejanus had told me that you were interested in me when we were children.”

Snow’s jaw ticked at the mention of Sejanus, so you quickly continued before he could spit some vitriol about your shared friend (for now, at least). 

 “That made no sense to me at the time he told me, of course, but the longer we courted, it started to feel real. Then, this evening, my papa told me that you had asked for my hand three times before. That you fought with me because you liked my attention, not necessarily because you had substantial disagreement with me. And when I asked, he said he lied to me about my needing to sacrifice my ideals to win you over, because he knew that I was already going to be your bride by the end of the season. I cannot respect a man who withholds things from me.”

“I apologize if I disrespected you, but—”

“Not you, my papa. It is clear now that, as far as this season was concerned, you had always made your intentions known. I can admire that. But my papa…I don’t know if I can trust him again. Or my mama, because I am sure she knew something about it, too.”

Snow considered you for a moment, before admitting, “If I had known you were kept in the dark, I would have told you. I assumed you knew I had spoken with your father and that that was part of the reason you kept fighting me. Telling me that you would rather marry anyone else but me.”

“No, I was, for once, clueless.”

He reached over for your hand. You allowed him to take it. “Well, you can rest assured that I will not let you be clueless as long as I can help it. We are to be partners in this marriage. There is no one that I could trust more to run this kingdom and raise our family than you.”

Your stomach twisted. All of this talk of honesty…It made you feel ill. You knew you should tell Snow about Sejanus’s letter. If he ever found out, any trust he had in you would easily be broken. You imagined he would lock you away in the palace, never let you see anyone but the staff and the heirs he would have you produce. And Sejanus…You shuddered at the idea of what Snow would do to him. It would make isolation look kind, you were sure. 

Knowing you had no other choice, you tried again to tell him. “Snow, I wish to tell you one more thing—”

You were cut off by the sound of Sejanus greeting you and Snow. You prayed you did not look as ill as you felt. 

“You look radiant this evening,” Sejanus said to you as he came to your side. Oh, Sejanus, he should not say those sorts of things. Not in front of Snow. Not when you knew how he felt. 

Snow rose to his feet, dropping your hand. It was the polite thing to do as a gentleman, but you knew it was more a power play than anything else. And, though Sejanus towered over Snow, something about the way Snow held himself made him seem like the giant. “She does, doesn’t she? It must be the pre-marital bliss.”

You ignored Snow. Well, if you couldn’t tell Snow about the letter now, you might as well make polite conversation until the next opportunity arose. “Thank you, my lord. You look quite dashing yourself. Did Tigris design your suit?”

“She did,” he beamed. Oh, Sejanus, don’t smile at you like that. “She is the only one I trust to not make me look like a fool.”

“Funny,” Snow muttered. 

You looked at him, your brows furrowed together. Was he trying to suggest Sejanus was a fool? Did Snow know something you didn’t? Your heart skipped a beat. Did he somehow already know of the letter? “What is?”

Snow blinked, as if he hadn’t expected you to hear him. A smile twitched at his lips. “You had said something similar, once.”

“Ah. Well, she is the best. Many people feel quite strongly over her,” you said. You smoothed a wrinkle on your dress. All of the kind talk between you and Coryo made you feel uneasy now that Sejanus was here. “It must be infuriating to know people like Tigris while they tolerate you.”

“Don’t be cruel,” Sejanus chided as Snow’s jaw clenched and unclenched. Don’t join in on the teasing. It will only make things worse. 

“But it’s so easy.”

Sejanus took the seat to your right. From the corner of your eye, you watched as Snow’s hands flexed, as if he was restraining himself from lashing out at Sejanus. Knowing that no one could see your face but Snow and Sejanus, you allowed yourself to roll your eyes. The corner of Sejanus’s mouth twitched up into a smirk. In any other circumstance, you might have been laughing with him at Snow’s expense. This all felt too confusing for you—something you would rather attempt to process in private rather than search your feelings in the moment. So you moved to the edge of your seat, propping your arm against the railing, leaning your cheek against your palm. Snow, as he sat back down, reached for your other hand, and you allowed him to take it. Jealous little thing, he was. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to mind. 

The performance soon began with little more spoken between you, Snow, and Sejanus. Mostly talks about your upcoming nuptials, which made it feel like a knife was being twisted in your stomach. If you didn’t know better, you would have thought that Sejanus was trying to be cruel. Sejanus, though, was something of an angel, and you were sure he didn’t have a mean bone in his body. Perhaps that was why you were so nervous about this. You knew how Snow would read Sejanus’s actions. You knew it would be far from good. 

You tried to push those thoughts away as the performers sang. It had been so long since you had been able to go to the opera, and you wanted to enjoy this moment. Snow would likely bring you to more performances, but just in case, you wanted to have fun while you could. Yet, Sejanus could not leave your mind. He felt entirely too close. It was almost suffocating. And when you dared to glance at him from the corner of your eye, and you saw the way his hand was placed on the arm of his chair, his palm face up, you felt ill. 

So ill, you could not stand it. 

When you dropped Snow’s hand, moving to leave the Lord’s Room, Snow rose to his feet. “Is everything alright, petal?”’

“I’m not feeling well. I just need to step outside for a moment,” you said. 

Sejanus, too, stood. “What’s wrong?”

Oh, don’t do that. Don’t give Snow anymore reason to get upset or concerned.

You waved Sejanus off. “It’s too stuffy in here. I just need a moment.”

Snow watched you, his brows pinched together. You again wondered if he could read your mind, if he knew what you knew. Or perhaps he was acting as if he cared in his own weird way, trying to ascertain if he needed to go with you just in case this was something more serious. “If you wish to leave early, we can. I don’t want you to feel as if we must stay even if you are ill.”

Don’t be kind. You’re not sure you deserve it. “I don’t believe it’s that serious. Please, sit. I shall be back before you can even think to miss me.”

Somewhat reluctantly, Snow sat down. Sejanus remained standing, watching as you turned to leave. It was not until you left the Lord’s Room, sparing a glance over your shoulder, that you saw Sejanus sit down, too.

It was easier to breathe outside of the room. Not much by much, but certainly easier. Being sat between Snow and Sejanus, even if had been something of your own doing, had become something of a personal hell. Damn Sejanus. Damn him. This evening wasn’t supposed to be like this. You were supposed to have a nice evening at the opera. You were supposed to get on Snow’s nerves. You were supposed to laugh with Sejanus and not worry about his insane ideas. It was supposed to be nice, not…whatever it was about to become. 

You found a somewhat secluded area of the foyer and leaned against the wall, trying to steady your heartbeat. You did not know if Snow or Sejanus or both would follow you. If they did, you worried about the other people who were invited eavesdropping on the conversation, realize that there was more than meets the eye regarding your betrothal to Snow. Oh, you would not be able to handle that scandal. 

After a minute or two, the sound of the opera singer ringing in the background, you pushed yourself off the wall. It had been long enough that Snow would become concerned and come looking for you. And it was close enough to intermission that Sejanus—

“You look like you’ve seen death.”

You sucked in a breath. “You need to leave.”

Sejanus stepped closer to you. Too close. He reached out, brushing a loose curl away from your face. You fought the urge to flinch away. “We can go—”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “You cannot truly believe I would leave with you, can you? Sejanus, Snow is the King. He would do everything in his power, utilize every resource at his disposal, to find us and bring us straight to the Capital. You would lose your head, and I would never see daylight again.”

“That should not matter if we love each other. We could find somewhere no one could ever find us. We could live a life all of our own, never have to worry about anything else.”

“But I don’t love you.” 

“Coryo told me that you would rather marry me. That you thought I am an easy man to love. Is that not enough?”

You squeezed your eyes shut. It was so hard to look at him and not cry. Why was he making this so difficult? Why was he putting you in this position? “I might have loved you. In a different life, maybe. But I do not feel what you feel for me. I will not risk my life and yours for a maybe.”

“But you will risk a life of unhappiness with Coryo?”

Why did no one listen to you? 

Why did no one care to ask you what you wanted and actually listen? 

“It is not as if Snow hates me. He cares, in his own way. Even if he shows it in his strange ways. I would want for nothing with him.”

“Can you love him?” Sejanus stepped even closer to you. He cupped your face in his hands. You squeezed your eyes tighter. “Tell me you will be happy with him, and I will leave you alone. I won’t bring this up ever again. I will leave—”

Sejanus was ripped away from you before he could finish speaking. Your eyes flew open. What was happening? Why—

Oh. 

Oh no. 

Snow’s face was blood red, his knuckles nearly matching as he gripped Sejanus’s jacket. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he spat. 

“Coryo, I—”

“You said you didn’t wish to marry her. You said you wouldn’t try to take her from me. Was that a life? Were you trying to catch me with my guard down? What happened to not wanting to hurt me?”

“Please—” 

You had never seen Snow so angry in all your life. Not even when you would spend every day at the Academy arguing with him. Not even when you had told him that you considered marrying Sejanus. Was Snow going to hurt Sejanus? He looked angry enough to kill. You couldn’t let that happen. 

“Snow—” you tried to say, but he did not hear you. 

“I should have the Peacekeepers drag you through the streets, throw you in a cell, and let you rot. I should have you executed,” Snow hissed. “This is treason.”

“Please, Snow—” you tried again. 

You tried to think. Tried to figure out something, anything, to say that could quell Snow’s anger. But you couldn’t even get through to him. It’s like he didn’t even realize you were speaking to him. Oh, what could you say?

“I should make your execution a fucking spectacle. I should make everyone watch as you are hung—”

“Coryo, stop!”

Snow’s head snapped to you. His pale blue eyes looked you up and down, as if he was trying to determine if he should direct his ire to you. He let go of Sejanus’s jacket with a push. Ordinarily, it wouldn’t have made Sejanus stumble, but the sheer weight of everything brought the man tumbling down. Snow took a step towards you, his voice dangerously low as he asked, “Why should I?”

“I was telling him no. I don’t want to go with him,” you said, careful not to say Sejanus’s name. Saying his name in ordinary circumstances drove Snow insane. You hated to imagine what he might do if you did so now. He might just kill Sejanus with his bare hands. His hands. You glanced down, then reached for one of Snow’s hands. It was clenched into a fist, but he allowed you to open his hand, intertwine your fingers with his own. “I want to marry you, Coryo. I want to be your wife.”

Snow stared at your connected hands. He squeezed your hand. It looked like he couldn’t believe this was real. “He followed you out here. Were you planning to run away?”

You couldn’t lie to him. Not now. “He sent a letter this morning. He wanted to run away at intermission, when it was easy to disappear in a crowd. I…I tried to tell you, before he arrived this evening. I never intended to go with him.”

“He followed you.”

I didn’t ask him to, you wanted to say. But you knew that wouldn’t do anything to diminish Snow’s anger. Instead, you said, “I wish you followed me instead.”

When Snow looked at you, you could see his eyes softened ever so slightly. “I thought you might want some space.”

Though you did not wholly believe in what you were saying, you knew it was working to calm him down. “All I want is you, Coryo.”

For a second, a smile began to tug at Snow’s lips. But it vanished all too quick as he heard Sejanus begin to rise to his feet. “He needs to be punished.”

“Don’t have him killed.” When Snow’s eyes narrowed, you quickly added, “I don’t want the death of your friend, your best friend, to weigh heavily on your conscious. I-I know you’re upset now, rightfully so, but that should not mean you send him to the gallows.”

His jaw clenched and unclenched as he weighed your words. “Then what do you suggest I do? If we are to be partners in life, you shall have a say in carrying out punishments.”

Oh, he was being cruel. Perhaps rightfully so. Snow would not harm you physically, but he would not be so above hurting you emotionally. You had not told him about the letter, and in his eyes, you were sure that put you on a similar level of treason as Sejanus’s actions. 

You fought the urge to look at Sejanus. “He shall enlist in the Peacekeepers,” you decided. “You can ensure he has an assignment far away from the Capital. Give him time to consider his betrayal.”

Snow said nothing. You worried he would dismiss your suggestion and call for the Peacekeepers anyways. That he would force you to watch as Sejanus was hung. You stepped closer, pressed a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Please, Coryo?”

When you pulled away, Snow was blinking a mile a minute. You prayed that was enough to convince him, to show him that you were loyal to him. To spare Sejanus’s life.

“Go,” Snow spat at Sejanus. 

Sejanus gave a shaky nod. He dared to look at you, his mouth beginning to open. Whatever he intended to say, though, was lost. 

“If you are going to say anything, it should be to express your gratitude to her for sparing you from an execution.”

Sejanus swallowed. “Thank you.”

“If I learn that you have not enlisted by morning, however, I will follow through with stringing you up at the gallows.”

Sejanus nodded again and quickly left before more could be said. For his sake, you prayed he went straight to the enlistment offices. You weren’t sure if they were open at this time of night, but if he went now, he might be able to enlist first thing in the morning when they did open. 

You let your head fall against Snow’s chest. His heart thump’d, thump’d, thump’d quickly. You wound your arms around his waist. “Thank you,” you whispered. And as he hugged you back, you added, “And I apologize for not telling you of his plans. I…I didn’t think he would be so foolish to try to follow through on them. Or, I suppose, I hoped he wouldn’t.”

“You truly wouldn’t have left with him?”

“I only want a life with you, Coryo. You…may not be an easy man to love, but that does not mean I cannot love you.” Maybe if you said it enough times, you mused, it would become true. 

Snow pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. “I want to move up the wedding date.”

You shut your eyes. “You’ll work poor Tigris to the bone trying to finish my gown in time,” you tried to tease. Your heart wasn’t quite in it. 

“You could show up at the altar in a dressing gown for all I care. I don’t want anyone else trying to steal you away before I can make you mine.”

If this was the sort of anger you would have to grapple with should anyone else try— “Nor do I.” You pressed a kiss to his chest, just over his heart. A print of your lipstick left behind a stain. “I truly am sorry, Coryo.”

Maybe if you called him by his pet name enough times, he would forget this ever happen. 

“Don’t let it happen again.”

As you stood there in his tight embrace, people began spilling out into the foyer. Intermission, it seemed, had arrived. And not a single one of them were aware of events that just transpired. 

How lucky they were. 

[emry-stars-art]

Children of the Moriyama-Day thrones ✨

I’ve been putting off an explanation for the kingdom Evermore for FOREVER and honestly a lot of it is directly pulled from this post and some more chats with @snazzy-jas-z-is-a-fan-of (thank you ily you’re so smart)

So if you wanna know like 80% of the pre-timeline Moriyama-Day story, read on:

SO. In Evermore, at least amongst nobility, all importance is placed on direct descendants of family lines. Spouses to the royal family can claim titles if they so choose - the equivalent titles are reserved for that eventuality - but their children will always have higher titles than them (ex: the husbands of the Day line queens are not princes but instead something closer to dukes, while their children will be Day princes and princesses, as well as the reverse for the Moriyama wives). This means that every once in a while, if a spouse would prefer to live privately rather than subject themselves to the more stressful aspects of noble life, they remain only vaguely known by the public. This doesn’t happen often by any means, but it does give the royal family an excuse for why the father of Kevin Day has not made himself known.

Each generation has a shared title - the most fit and capable to rule will take the titles of kings and queens*, while their children are princes and princesses. The eldest of each family in the generation adds “high ___” to their title once a younger sibling is born. This is why even though Kevin is the younger between him and Natalie - the next Day generation - he is the heir to the Day throne because his mother was the elder sister. The names in pink are the highest ranking royalty of their generation, whom the throne is passed to.

*(Maybe Evermore retires their monarchs once they’re unfit to rule, or maybe the younger generations take them by force, thus proving they are fit for the throne. I could see it going either way tbh)

The Moriyama line here is continuing essentially as is usual and expected. There’s family members among each generation and the procession of power is in place. The Day family, on the other hand, has almost entirely crumbled.

Queen Shields left the throne of her own volition, taking her daughter Natalie with her. She left the throne and renounced her Evermore citizenship for reasons unknown to the public, though the Moriyama family brushed it aside as the whims of a young woman that clearly couldn’t handle the lifestyle. For this reason, even if she was to come back to Evermore, she would no longer be able to claim her place among the Day family. Her daughter Natalie Shields, on the other hand, was hardly more than an infant when she was taken, and so the Evermore nobility could not say she renounced her throne or her citizenship by choice. If Princess Natalie ever returned to Evermore and demanded her throne, she would have it.

High Queen Kayleigh, as we all know, has passed away. Her son Prince Kevin was raised beside Ichirou and Riko by the Moriyama family as the sole remaining member of the royal Day line. Though he and Prince Riko had always been close because of their age (High Prince Ichirou was at that age range and just older enough that he found littler kids and especially siblings to be “annoying”, the way kids do), as they grew up, Kevin realized that even if Riko was his best friend and brother, he himself had started agreeing more with Ichirou’s political views and ideas. Riko swallowed the Evermore ideals of “conquer and prosper” as any younger brother might. Kevin and Ichirou never had to fight for the power handed to them - they were beginning to see that those traditions were becoming obsolete, and there were better ways to expand and run a country.

Riko did not like the attention Kevin was suddenly getting from Ichirou.

So when Kevin said, suddenly and surprisingly, that he was going to travel before marriage - see what and who around them might benefit Evermore - no one could really stop him. He was by that point the Day crown. High King Kengo allowed it. (He wouldn’t have, had Ichirou not so strongly championed for the idea.)

Young king Kevin is not technically an Evermore deserter or traitor. The Moriyamas cannot prove that he is. But the longer he stays in Palmetto, the more suspicions arise that he isn’t there only on business, or even that he might never intend to return at all. The only way to take the throne from Kevin - destroying the Day line in Evermore for good - is for him to renounce his throne, or for war to break out between the two countries so that Kevin will be forced to pick a side.

(We know what side he’d pick, of course. His adopted brothers as well. The rest of the Moriyamas are fairly certain they know, and are growing severely impatient for the chance to label him a traitor.)

(This also leads to the idea that perhaps, if she found her way back to Evemore on an errand, all the lost princess Natalie would have to do is exchange her claim to the throne for a certain foreign prisoner’s freedom. Ichirou is always looking for ways to get rid of competition, and Riko’s lost plaything is not his to worry about. Kengo’s declining health makes it easy for Ichirou to pass off his word as the High King’s.

So the ex-princess is free to take Jean Moreau wherever he’d like to go. Or, when he says he doesn’t know, wherever she thinks is suitable.)

[diminuel]

So do Dragon and Crocodile have a tier list running of acceptable babysitters for Luffy?

Haha!

I assume that really depends! Since the ocean is vast, it's a question of who is available at the particular location.

(Why are they taking him with them in the first place? Maybe Luffy is very clingy *lol* I'm not entirely sure how this AU works X'D)

But generally, everyone who is able to handle Luffy (or even Luffy, Sabo and Ace all at once? I assume the two other boys are also theirs) gets put on the acceptable babysitters list X'D

I'm just imagining now a scenario of Dragon and Crocodile going on a vacation for two weeks. Who would they most trust with their kids?

Makino would probably be high up on that list, though the problem is of course that Luffy might just get himself into danger so ideally Garp or Dadan would also be around to keep an eye on him if anything happened.

Doflamingo is probably also a go to baby sitter, especially since it's likely that there are other people around as well who will watch Luffy if Doflamingo is busy (Cora, Law once he's older, the Dressrosan royal family once Doflamingo settles there - in this happy timeline AU he doesn't take over, he just makes it his base)

Kuma and Ginny are probably also high on Dragon's list of reliable babysitters (Iva probably prefers short time baby sitting *lol* They have better things to do!)

Mihawk probably would be fun for Luffy but less so for Mihawk. I don't know how much patience he has *lol* (I don't know if Perona and Zoro would be with him early in this AU?)

Luffy would probably love to hang out with Shanks but he's not really the most reliable guy (no offense, Shanks.)

And since Crocodile spends a lot of time in Alabasta he might also make Cobra babysit X3

(I can also imagine that when Dragon wants to be a pain in the ass he'll drop Luffy on one of the Admiral's desks. It's a good strategy! If Luffy is causing chaos for them - tossing important documents out of the window, pulling the receivers off transponder snails or blocking the lines by talking to someone else, stealing Sakazuki's hat - they can't do their stupid marine work and get in the way of what the RA is doing *lol*)

My thoughts on that, but if you have additions or protests let me know X'D

[callmejod]

Yey! I love him so much but there is so little for him! Could you do a headcanon for him falling in love again (reciprocated) post potc please- if we pretend he didn't die. Pretty please.

Hohohohohohohoho this was also on my mind for a few weeks

Had to mill it over the last few days, sorry for not responding. I also wrote this for an entire day so I hope you like it.

Kinda oc reader, foreign!reader, James being down bad for the reader , reader being too good to be true

This got really long so bare with me

I don't know if I'm even able to write short fics

So the jist is :

If he didn't die and came back to Port Royal as Admiral Norrgington - he would be happy he got his career, his honor and his purpose back.

Living on the sea has changed him. He no longer could stand this uptight, fake world that Port Royal thrives in. The cravats, the paperwork, the wigs. Fuck, he couldn't breathe most of the time, always sweaty in the thousand-layer suits, head itching from both the powder and the weigt of his hats. Having to sit through those god awful formal dinners, balls that bring nothing but superficial gossip was nothing but pure torture. Don't get me wrong - he's grateful for being able to even attend them, but the honest, freeing way of pirate life has broken him out of the cage of chaperoned conversations with ladies and standoffish men making fools out of themselves. He remembers the joyous dancing, full of fluidity and life, now having to endure stiff, distant and "civilised" english dancing.

One day, while having a conversation with one of the Ports ministers he hears about a merchant who's come from afar. He knows of your stay at Jamaica. He had a few documents regarding your long stay brought to his office to sign. Your ship suffered damage in a run-in with pirates and had a lot of repairs to do. A gorgeous vessel. He wonders if the captain is as handsome as their ship. Hopes he gets to meet you before you leave. You only arrived four days ago, and already the talk of the ton. Impressive.

The men described you as lively, wild as a tropical storm. The ministers complained about your accent, your way of dressing, your carefreeness, anything they can put a pin in, they do. James feels quite uncomfortable listening to the convesation not being able to put in anything. He then sets his mind to finding out who you are - he has grown out of judging a person by word from another mouth.

That encounter came earlier than he expected. And to be frank - saved him from a horrible stack of particularily boring paperwork. Having you barge in full-force into his office steaming mad, followed by two petrified soldiers was not something on his agenda. He noticed the few things the ministers mentioned - clothes of unusual cut and style, quite tasteful if his opinion was concerned, hair and hairstyle so different from locals that there was no mistaking you. You were the eccentric foreigner. But fawning over your beauty was for another time - now he had an angry merchant going off about something he both didn't listen to for a while and frankly, couldn't really understand due to your speed of speech.

'S-sorry could you slow down a second. I'm afraid I'm loosing some of what you're saying."

'Sir they need to make an appoin-'

'It's fine gentlemen, this must be urgent if I am needed. Please, let us speak in private.'

After the guards step out, he offers you to sit and something to drink.

'I have no need for no courtesy Admiral. I need a problem fixed. You can skip this stupid charade.'

'Oh, then it is more serious than I've thought. What is the problem?'

'Those - those'

You wave your hand in the air to make him help you find a word.

'Minosters of yours'

'Ministers?'

'Yes! Those idiots. They won't let me handle my own ship the way it needs to be. It needs to be seen by - argh!'

Your frustration runs high. He smiles.

'There's no need to stress. You mean carpenters? Is there a problem with the wood of your ship?'

'Are those who work with wood?'

'Yes, so you need to hire carpenters and the dock officials won't let you? That is strange. You have registered your stay and gave us all the documents we need.'

'But they don't!!'

You grab his forearm and try dragging him out of the office. He slows you down and explains that he will talk to them, just let him take a few things. You scoff and cross your arms.

'You English and your weird rules. Wasting time and not helping.'

He couldn't agree with you more. He smiles and starts walking out. When you two make your way to the port, he has difficulty keeping his pace with you - passersby stare at you storming off to port with their Admiral desperately trying to keep up with you. You sometimes mumble curses in languages he does not ever try to understand, but you two make your way faster than he realised was possible.

There you stomp to an official, who not seeing James trailing behond you shouts:

'Ow piss of ya cunt! I won't let you disgrace our carpenters by working on a ship that carries your kind!'

James is stunned you don't rip his head off when he sees your fists clench by your sides. Anger nips at his mind, how dare he treat you like this?! When slows his pace and asks in a flat voice:

'What do you mean "their kind"? Is that how my officials treat esteemed, foreign guests? And how dare you use such language to a person that was only looking for your help.'

The man's face whites and he starts to stutter an apology, but James stops it and sends him to get carpenters. Admiral's orders. When the official slips away to fill his duty, James turns to you and starts profusely apologising for the incompetence of his subordinates.

He's horrified when you inform him, that this is not the first - ha!, only time of being mistreated because of your looks or manner of speech. Anger boils in him when he hears that not only you, but majority of your crew had to endure this for a while now, accomodation denied not by matter of the lack of, but prejudice. Before he even thinks, he immedeately offers you a place in his home - something that brings surprise to you both. He cannot stand the thought you had to sleep on your ship when there was far grater comforts available.

He flushes red and again apologises for being inappropraite, but gets cut off by your boisterous laughter. The sound hypnotises him, seeing you smile for the first time makes his heart bang on his ribs. You laugh so hard tears come to you eyes and a shortness of breath. He cares not that many are looking at you two or the impropriatey of the situation. Time freezes for him. There's only you and him.

'Oh admiral, you are funny. I cannot leave my men to sleep on the ship when I am given all comforts of life.'

James flushes again and meekly asks:

'Then would you accept a simple dinner as an apology for your mistreatement?'

He almost doubles over when you beam at him and accept. The way you look at him so amused - he would make the biggest fool out of himself just to keep that look in your eyes. You set a date for a few weeks later and James makes sure that your your crew is not being mistreated anymore than they already have. Of course, Gilette and Groves relentlessly teased him for his obvious affection towards you. They weren't surprised though, it was hard not to even tolerate you.

Over those few weeks he started to watch you closely. Both of you were invited for a few balls, and the conversations you two had were the most fulfilling he had in a long long time. Your knowledge of the sea, of literature, politics and history had impressed him and added a new dimention to your person - not only beautiful, but wise.

He saw you many times playing with children on the street, helping people in need, play-fighting with young boys, showing them your battle scars and sometimes even your handpistol or sword.

You brought an air of freshness to the stuffy, ever "proper" society of Port Royal. You smiled often, you were polite to those who deserved it, made an effort to not be a bother. Yet, you never hesitated to get you crew in line when they were causing a ruckus.

Your manner of speech was charming, that certain twang to english and he would be a liar if he denied finding your way of trying to remember words or coming up with new ones when you couldn't was not adorable. Talking with using your hands was also a thing he found endearing. He would deny it to his grave in front of you, die of embarrasment if you knew. He heard that you got into a heated conversation with your first officer, and while talking with using your hands smacked a passing lady in the face. Apologised a lot and brought her an apology gift in form of a few yards of stunning blue silk. The dress she had comissioned to be made of it was breathtaking. But nothing could ever compare to your beauty.

All this was just pulling him into your direction. And when the awaited evening came, James was so nervous about everithing being perfect. You were perfect so your expectations were not to be let down. But, you being you, as if feeling his nervousness arrived early and instead of courtsies and stiff welcomes hugged him like a family member long missed.

As the dinner went on, your conversation flowed over many topics, never ending, never boring. You moved to the sitting room, where to James' torture you sprawled yourself over a love seat and rested. He sat, watching you strech like cat, admiring you quietly. You made eye contact with him and asked :

'James, would you like me to court you?'

He choked on his spit. In a coughing attack, he flushed so red, you jumped to your feet and held his shoulder to try and help. After a while of hacking and a visit from a concerned maid, he stopped and looked at you, not knowing what to say. He saw the unceirtainty in your eyes, even hurt.

'Do you not wish me to court you, James?'

His eyes widened. After years of endlessly chasing Elizabeth's affection, you being so open about it shocked him. He knew he harboured feelings for you but never imagined that feeling would be reciprocated. He took your hands and squeezed them.

'I was just cuaght off guard, dear don't worry. It's standard for men here to ask someone to court.'

'So I'm supposed to wait forever? You have been open with your feelings, but I am an impatient person James. I do not make games.'

'Play games?'

'Is that how you say it?"

James chuckled an held a hand to your face. That prompted you to surge forward and kiss him. For a second, he froze in surprise but leaned into you, sighing into the kiss. You threw your arms over his shoulders and he moaned.

That made you break apart from him and look into the sea green of his eyes. Your warm breath fanned his face, heating it impossibly more. You seemed lost in them and made him nervous that he did something wrong. Seeing his concern, you locked your lips again in a gentle kiss. God, he never wanted it to end. He smiled into the kiss, making you giggle. You two broke apart and looked at each other.

James then spoke :

'I would very much like you to court me, if you let me do the same.'

'Finally making some sense, James.'

[lilyrachelcassidy]

The Cat

Mattheo Riddle x Reader 

Summary: The one where Mattheo welcomes an unexpected visitor in his dormitory, which eventually leads to a confession from his side. 

Warnings: yyyhhh, not really, no; some feisty cat tho 

Word Count: 1.2k 

xoxoxxoxoxxoxoxoxoxxoxo

Mattheo cranked the handle of the shower, releasing the hot jet of water on his body. Today was positively ghastly, and he wanted to wash the emotions and memories off of him. He planned on taking a few minutes of a good read of a Daily Prophet and then plunging under the blanket where he would be able to, hopefully, forget the horror of the day.

Life, however, had even more advancing events for him to deal with because when he finally shut the stream off, he heard a jangle coming from his bedroom, the room to which the bathroom was adjoined. He suddenly froze, stock-still. 

For a moment he admonished himself for being such a weakling, therefore, he quickly recovered from his momentary trans. On autopilot, and because he wasn’t sure what to expect, he threw on some robes and exited the bathroom.

Yet before he could take one step forward, something big and furry flung to his feet. He let out a surprised howl but soon discerned that the enigmatic object actually turned out to be a fat, shabby cat with flamboyant ginger hair and a bizarre froufrou collar on its neck. Quickly recovering from the shocker and the howl, which he definitely won’t be chronicling over his family dinner, he bent over the pet and took it in his arms.

“Well, well... if you aren’t a treat for heart,” he said with a few droplets of water trickling on the cat’s fur. It hissed in dissatisfaction at which Mattheo chuckled. He scrutinized the froufrou collar yet again and noticed the printed, golden word on it which showcased ‘Henrietta’ in the cursive. “Your owner clearly must hate you, Henrietta...”

The cat hissed again, and Mattheo wasn’t sure if it was a hiss of disagreement or not, but he liked to arrogate that as long as the cat was in his arms, it agreed with his opinion.

How had the cat entered his bedroom, or why would it do it in the first place, he didn’t know. But the bond between them flourished as Mattheo stroked it a few times and was rewarded with a great, vibrating purr in response.

“Okay, let’s get you on the bed, buddy.” Stiffly, he put it on the bed with which the cat seemed to be extremely dissatisfied as it hissed again. “You didn’t possibly expect me to cradle you around all night, right? The privilege is only reserved for my cigarettes...”

He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with this situation next but the resolved it probably wouldn't help with him walking around butt naked. He almost reached the bathroom to change to his regular, nightly attire, but a knock came to the door.

“For Merlin’s Sake...”

As the door swung open, it revealed a girl, an absolutely dazzling one, who Mattheo had been pinning after for a few months now - Y/N. She still had the school robes on her which she enhanced with some sew-on, muggle badges, and she was wrenching both of her hands like a small child summoned to solve a task in from of the entire class. She smiled at him coyly, and Mattheo was suddenly very aware that nothing but a thin layer of cloth prevented him from fully stripping in front of her.

To be fair, he wouldn’t have minded that at all.

“Hey, sorry to... intrude. But I have been looking all over for my cat and-” She halted in the middle of the sentence as she noted Henrietta casually stretched on Mattheo’s bedsheets, staring at its owner as though it revealed a Royal Flush on the poker table. “There you are, you stupid creature! What are you doing here?”

She crouched down, evidently waiting for the cat to approach her but it made no move whatsoever nor expressed any desire of being relocated. When Y/N made the reproachful expression and hushed at it a couple of times, only then did it finally get a grip that there was no option of a sleepover.

As soon as the cat prowled over to her feet, Y/N picked it up and swiftly faced Mattheo in the standing position again. She smiled at him. “I’m sorry about that. I hope Henrietta didn’t cause you too much trouble.”

Mattheo leaned over at a jamb, arms folded together. “No, of course not.” He shook his head lightly, and they both stood there grinning at each other and the absurdity of the situation they were shoved into.

“So, I think I should get going...”

But before she was able to move, Mattheo spouted off: “Don't you think I should get some kind of reward for finding your cat?”

Y/N sniggered, looking at him with amusement in her eyes. “Did you really find her? Or was it just a stroke of luck that she sauntered into your dormitory?”

At that, Mattheo smirked. He loved that someone was able to match his level of teasing. And he loved the way the corners of her lips curved, exposing a little dimple in one of her cheeks. “Technicalities.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but decided to give in to his conditions. “Fine. What do you want?”

“Go on the date with me,” he said it. Matter-of-factly. It actually cost him a much greater deal than he made the impression of; his throat went dry, and his heart picked up on the rabbit speed. And yet he was still leaning on the jamb, a smirk adorning his countenance and daring to look Y/N straight in the eyes as if it was one of the most obvious answers to that question.

That she seemed to not expect because at first, she snorted, but then apprehended that Mattheo wasn’t going to join her in laughter, thus she started goggling with a jaw hanging in consternation. That had a strangely amusing effect on Mattheo who, despite his tense body, managed to look casual. “You? On a date? With me? Do you even know who I am?”

“You are Y/N, and presumably, you are the owner of the strangely-named cat...”

“Hey! Henrietta is a very beautiful name. Have you not read ‘Persuasion’?” When Mattheo shook his head, Y/N let out a little squeak of disbelief. The cat peered at her with annoyance. “It’s only one of the greatest books ever! It’s muggle but still, something to catch up on.” 

Mattheo contemplated her face for a few seconds before the idea sprung up to his mind. “How about...” he started. “I take you to ‘Flourish and Blotts’ this weekend, and we can go over a few chapters together. Or we can go to the ‘Three Broomsticks’ and then you would tell me all about Henrietta?”

The robust blush spread over Y/N's cheeks. She set her face downcast, but a grin, even from that cant, was visible on her lips. “Only under one condition.” 

“And what is that?” asked Mattheo with a brow raised.

“You won’t poke fun at the name Henrietta ever again.” She simpered at him and that, Mattheo thought, was the sight he could admire on a daily basis.

“You got yourself a deal there, Y/N.” He extended the hand on which Y/N shook, and they both beamed at one another.

Later that night, Mattheo thought that thanks to the bloody cat, his days turned out to be one of his greater achievements, after all.

[squiddy-god]

hiiii I was wondering, well maybe this is a strange request but I've been reading a lot about "Merchen's Stepmother" where the protagonist is forced to marry at a young age to a much older marquis and from one day to the next she has to be a wife, take care of an entire house since she is a marchioness and also be a stepmother but not long after her husband dies, making her a widow at an early age and now she has to take care of everything alone, I know it sounds angsty qwq but I was wondering if you could do hdcns with an mc in a similar situation?) for pomefiore and scarbian, Sorry it's a long order ;u; ,thank youuuu and have a good day <33

Haiiiii~ so I think this request is very interesting because I had never heard of this, and I do have some thoughts but they are to general for it to really be hcs.

So my first thought is that I actually hate this trope,,, like arranged marriage for me is always on the edge and most of the time I just think it's eh, but I hate the trope of having to marry young to someone much older especially because the age implication with twst characters

But I think it's an interesting concept for a darker yuu/MC because imagine the implications of being suddenly thrust into this new magical world and,,, not having those expectations

I think it could be really great for like a MC who maybe doesn't want to return to their own world and kind of views this as like an opportunity to escape, because they're no longer a widow or head of the house, they're completely free to just be a teen/young adult (18) without like feeling that pressure

If I was going to write something like this, I would probably turn it into an AU where this is the MC/readers backstory because I can see this going 2 ways, either one, they don't want to return at all and are pretty happy to be able to like, basically go to school and learn about this world and have friends and all of that, or at first they would feel like they have to return because they had all these duties and responsibilities, but slowly realized that they never should have had those duties and responsibilities in the first place, and they've been basically given an opportunity to be free

I think just about every character would be pretty appalled to learn about this with maybe the only exception being Malleus and/or Lilia. Not because they aren't horrified but because they aren't shocked (Malleus would be pissed tho no doubt) especially if MC had to go through that all alone

I think the interactions with the noble characters would be interesting, so like disomnia, idia, Leona, kalim would be super interesting because they are actually royal/noble (kalim is just rich af but clearly influential)

If this was an AU or if I was going to write this, I think I would write it as a sort of tragic comedy, where it starts out kind of angry at first and then quickly transitions into a lot of comic relief. Because I feel that there is comedy potential

After scaping this horrible situation, and finally, being free of the shackles and burdens that came with being in their old world MC decides to bag a rich husband closer to their age this time

I think several of them would take the stance of "it's a good thing, your first husband is dead because they would have killed them" namely malleus and Lilia, potentially a few others (villain school)

Going to vil and Jamil I think they have very similar ways of handling this, but for different reasons.

In jamil's case it's coming from a place of knowing what servitude is like and actively, having to serve and do a great amount of stuff for kalim

In vils case it's coming from a place of not wanting you to let others dictate and control you, especially the words of others.

Both come from their Fierce senses of independence but slightly differently.

In the case of MC feeling duty bound to go back I think there are several characters who would be very blunt about how that isn't a good idea

Vil is definitely one of them, he's upfront and honest that he thinks it's a stupid idea. He can't understand why you would want to go back to a life you clearly hate when you don't have to. His blunt words help you to realize that you don't own anyone or any world. You have had no choice in any matter until now so you should make a decision that will be good for you!

I think Leona would be especially appalled by the treatment you received having to do all of this on your own because it's so vastly different from how women in the afterglow savana are treated, and so different from how he would treat you. Even if it was an arranged marriage he'd never treat his spouse so cruel and disrespectfully.

I see either option of it playing out very similar, with a very capable MC who manages the ramshackle dorm better than any of the other dorm leaders and is like "this is way easier than a whole estate"

If it's scenario A where MC is overjoyed at "escaping" and having freedom then MC takes lengths to ensure they will be able to get a job (or rich husband their age lmao) so that they can live happily in twisted wonderland, they get war flashbacks from Crowley because he makes MC do so much lmao.

At first is hesitant and nervous to have fun but after the bad (great) influence of ace, deuce, and grim, they begin to feel more comfortable and really let loose since they no longer have burdens weighing them down

Casually brings up why they were so hesitant to have fun and be silly at first and everyone is horrified. The overwhelming support from friends really helps a lot honestly

Makes jokes about being a widow/being married. If they romantically pursue malleus/Lilia they make about how they are technically older then their first husband (malleus is not happy he's your second husband but is determined to be your last and best husband)

If it's scenario B where MC feels obligated to return home at first then the reveal is much sooner, they say they have responsibilities to go back to but are only met with looks of horror and pity, the others deciding that this reserved, miserable, sad cloud hanging over MC has to be taken care of so they decided to give you a price of their mind.

I think this would happen after book 7/potential book 8, after MC has spent at least 1½-2 years in twst and is really struggling because their new life and friends make them happy, maybe even their love interest, but they feel so incredibly guilty for wanting to stay. After all the overblots and adventures malleus is the last straw. He's very similar to MC in a way, desperate to not lose the only friend he has while MC is desperate to not lose their new life and happiness.

The dream Malleus gives them is telling. They don't see "home, they don't see the estate or family they left behind, nothing of their old miserable life married to a man on death's door and expected to just be fine with it all. No MC sees grim, and ace, deuce, epel, Sebek, jack, everyone. All of their friends in Ramshackle are happy and smiling, they feel free and weightless and it's like this was meant to be. They dream of cute dates with their " boyfriend" not husband, not fiancee, just a simple term that invokes a sense of youth they've never felt despite being so young. When they awake, ripped from that perfect dream to see the thorns and bramble grown around them in a magical cage, they don't have time to lament the irony before having to deal with malleus.

But afterwards? When the smoke has cleared and malleus returns to normal they break, if there was Any magic in their body it would have bloted that very moment because they realize that they don't want to go, they don't want to leave.

It isn't until they stand face to face with the mirror that they take a stand. It's been a whole year, no one is happy, nothing but gloom perpetuates the mirror room and in the brief moment of hesitation ace is the first to speak up- hell he really wanted to punch you- but decided that pulling you away from the mirror into the world's tightest hug is far better.

He rips into you honestly, they all give you a piece of their mind, some are gentle others are harsh and blunt but the message is clear.

You don't have to leave, you have a choice for the first time in your life and you don't owe your world anything.

Stay, stay and be happy- just take their hand, become a part of their world.

[sunset-peril]

Purah somehow found herself in the role of Link's primary physician.

“Why?” The Royal Ancient Technology Lab's director had inquired, “I'm an engineer, not a physician!”

“The Sheikah created his kind in the era of the last Calamity,” the head of the royal family's medical team had responded ever so bluntly, “you are most equipped at dealing with him; being the kingdom's foremost authorities on ancient Sheikah technology.”

“That doesn't suddenly make me a doctor!” Purah had cried ever so not-bluntly. “Linky has conditions, needs medications, preventatives; what about if he's wounded in battle?!”

“The field team can handle wound care. You clearly know far more about his needs than we do.”

“If you just don't want to treat him, you could just say that!” Purah was trying not to raise her voice at the physician, seeing how his voice was calm and nearly monotonous, but the spirited researcher was having a difficult time quieting herself. Was the staff simply refusing to treat Link because of what he was? Were they sincerely concerned with their ability to provide adequate care for anyone non-Hylian? It was impossible to tell, given their insufferable monotony! “Enough people have said one thing to him and done the other, he at least deserves your honesty.”

“You have records.”

“No I don't!” She couldn't help a hand to her face. Why couldn't they just provide care to him? “Most of the records were destroyed; or stolen by the ancient Ordonians. And even if they weren't, this wasn't even considered a disease back then! Why are you making this hard!”

This time, the physician wouldn't even make eye contact with her.

“Would you at least give us the honor of allowing us to contact you should anything concerning arise?” Robbie was, in a word, more collected then Purah. He calmly stopped what he was doing and waltzed over, looking at only the physician.

“...If anything truly major happens, I suppose we could spare him a glance. I make no promises of if we could assist him.”

“Thank you, doctor.”

“...Hmph. Have a pleasant day.” Gathering the little he had placed down, the man in charge of the Royal Family's medical care turned and departed from the Royal Ancient Technology Laboratory.

“Now who does he think he is, shoving Linky off like that?” She crossed her arms and pouted, casting a side eye to her research partner.

“The highest doctor in all Hyrule would be my guess.”

“I'd like to say I can't believe he'd have the nerve, …but honestly, with the way things've been since the Queen passed, I'm not terribly surprised.”

“His Majesty has way too much on his plate to be able to strong-arm the staff into being kinder to our formerly-exiled friends, I'm afraid. Not that it's the monarch's job to be a nanny either.”

Purah shook her head. “No, I don't blame King Rhoam in the slightest. If anything, I blame the nobility for finding every single reason to encourage people to keep Linky and the others as distanced as possible. So what if Her Majesty had me treat an issue of his once? Using a bit of technology on a toddler under her's and a doctor's provision is vastly different from being a young man's entire medical staff!”

“‘Young man’ might be pushing it. He's what? Fourteen?.”

“He's a boy in mind and body, I know,” Purah admitted with a deep sigh. “But the Remnants consider their children to be adults once they've hit that point in puberty where children are possible. I dare not offend their queen.”

“You would think the medical staff would think the same. Link is technically our Zelda's equivalent to a neighboring kingdom. One with a very scary queen at that.” Robbie glanced over to the man in question, who silently hovered over his counterpart under Hylia as she cataloged parts from a disassembled Guardian. “If I were them, I'd keep Link on a fluffy cloud.”

“I'm surprised my sis will go anywhere near him, after the encounter she had with his mom.”

“I'd suppose it'd be hard to advise the Princess though, if you were always avoiding her bodyguard.

“Trueee, it's not like she's approaching Link specifically…” Purah pinched her bottom lip. “Think we can get some weight on ‘im?”

“Think the Castle can afford that much food? He already eats more than the squadron he was on when he was first knighted.”

“Think we should probably try… I know we know very little about how Hylian the Wolfbred still are, but I find it very hard to believe an active fourteen-year-old boy is supposed to be that slim.”

“Should we hire an Ordonian healer, maybe?”

“If we could find one. I know their population's kinda next to nothing now. Can't imagine there'd be a ton of healers that could either move up here or routinely make the trip.”

“He is the queen's son… maybe someone'd be willing to come out here just to keep him intact.”

“It'd be easier if we had more than like, two Wolfbred.”

“You know His Majesty relocated them out of concern for their safety.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know they're probably a lot safer and happier in Zora's Domain. It would just make it more plausible to get a healer up here.”

“You'd think he'd let us give him an exam since the medical staff won't do it?”

“I've been manhandling him since he was a puppy. He'll let me do quite a bit to him.”

“How about his head?”

“Oh, absolutely not. You know Linky won't let anyone touch him there.”

“Well, for the sake of all Hyrule, he better not hit his head.”

“For the sake of Hyrule, we need a better plan for this boy.”

~~~

Hyrule's Final Stand Mastetlist

Hyrule's Final Stand on AO3

[decent0distraction]

Solo harmony au - part 1

I wrote an AU for Trolls: Band Together and um… I want to know what you think

Instead of John Dory leaving and Brozone breaking up and parting ways, the argument goes differently.

John turns to leave, but the sound of his brothers following suit one by one is slowly replaced by the harmonic humming of the youngest.

Branch, out of love for his family and the desire to keep them together, was able to harness his voice to create the perfect harmony entirely on his own. A feat that had never been achieved alone in the history of their family.

The brothers gather around Branch, listening to the melody and realizing a way for them to all get what they want.

John Dory becomes Branch’s manager and raises in stardom him as Baby, the doll of Troll Nation. Spruce starts off as security and advances to the MC of refreshments at all of Branch’s gigs and concerts. Clay handles all of the expenses and earnings, seeing that each performance runs smoothly. Floyd is the only one of them who enforces down time and sees that Branch is as happy and healthy as he is successful.

If Branch is tired of the constant spotlight and the responsibility of establishing and maintaining harmony while the Troll Kingdoms are basically at war and the Bergens are still on the hunt for any Troll they can get, he doesn’t let on. Not when his brothers have worked so hard and they’re so happy that they don’t have to perform anymore. Besides, he gets to do some good; insisting at least a good amount of their earnings go to aiding the kingdoms and villages, performing for Queen Viva’s army-

Oh, did I forget to mention that? Silly me. So Viva didn’t get separated when they left the Troll Tree.

When Poppy was 3 and Viva was 13, they escaped with their father and their people. Viva went on to raise an army, hid their kingdom in a secluded valley, and built defenses around their land.

18 years later, her 21 year old little sister is wild and adventurous, declaring they can and should claim victory over the Bergens once and for all, so that no Troll may ever again live in fear of being eaten.

That is, until the Rock Trolls attacked the Electronic Trolls. The threat was immediate and Viva knew something had to be done.

To teach her sister some responsibility and keep an eye on her she took her army across Troll Nation, aiding their allies, the Funk Trolls and Country Trolls, while siding with the weaker front of the Classical Trolls as they receive the worst from Rock Troll troops. Neutrals in the war act as resting places and emergency shelters for those simply trying to survive. Reggaeton Trolls are often the first responders of these groups, with K-Pop electing a space for Baby to perform for the supportive military troops.

It is at this performance that Princess Poppy and Baby accidentally meet.

Branch had convinced John Dory to let him have a moment to himself outside once he got one of Spruce’s drinks.

However, the Pop royal spare had a bad reputation to maintain and an overbearing sister to piss off so she downs a few of those drinks within two hours of the concert starting.

When push comes to shove, Branch is accidentally sent into the arms of Princess Charming, who is much more brazen and raunchy when drunk as Branch expected of a royal.

And Baby is reserved, polite, and modest, all things Poppy last thought a pop star would be.

I had this idea that while, idk, John Dory is meeting Viva to thank her for allowing the troops to come to the show and take time out of their responsibilities and busy schedules to see the sweetheart of Troll Nation, Poppy drunkenly says something that you do not say to someone who is wanted, loved, hated, and celebrated by the world. And Branch, wanting to keep his skin, calls to Spruce Bruce, asking for his help.

“Bruce? I need help,” the pop star requested, inching away from the princess, who swayed and smirked drunkenly.

“Coming, Baby,” Bruce called back causally, a little too causal as he set a bottle and glass down, motioned to a customer that he’d return shortly, and picked up the knife he had been cutting lemons with.

But when she turned around to come face to face with a large, intimidating Troll that looked like Branch only older, taller, larger, and wielding a knife.

Yeah, so I imagine from here, John Dory is interrupted by Floyd hitting him, freaking out about how there’s something wrong at the bar and that’s the last place he saw Branch.

Viva whistles, everyone goes still, and all eyes are Poppy, who is on the floor, fighting herself while Bruce keeps everyone at a safe distance.

However, the audience consists of soldiers that have watched and even helped raise Poppy, so there is a mix of smug amusement and angry disappointment in the faces of the crowd.

Floyd, shoving soldiers aside, finds Branch, who was hit in the complication and not only has a mark on his cheek, but a tiny cut under his eye.

Viva apologizes for her sister, declares the night over, and sends her soldiers to turn in for the night. Only then does she drag Poppy out to their tent.

Alone, the brothers fight. Or rather, Floyd and John Dory fight while Clay and Bruce clean up, Branch attempting to get them to stop arguing.

“You guys, I’m fine,” Branch insisted. “It’s really not a big deal-“

“-Go to our tent and wait for me there please,” Floyd told him patiently, sounding unnerved. “We’ll talk it about then. JD and I are having a discussion right now.”

Branch can feel the energy change and he knows the weight he feels in his chest is the harmony fading in and out like a flickering light bulb.

So he does the only thing he knows that will help anything. He sings.

“Can’t anybody find me somebody to~”

“Love,” Bruce and Clay sing, backing him up through the song.

While he sang, Branch danced around John Dory and Floyd, making them laugh as he acted out a droopy yawn and a clumsy stagger. “Each morning I get up, I die a little. Can barely stand on my feet.” He got Floyd to dance with him, but he wouldn’t sing. “Take a look at yourself in the mirror and cry-“

“-Lord, what you’re doing to me,” John Dory sang, his voice a little shaky from not using it.

But as Branch sang with him, he got more power back to his voice. “I have spent all my years in believing you, but I just can’t get no relief, Lord.”

“Somebody.”

“Somebody.”

Clay and Bruce joined in, spinning Branch around and dancing with the youngest brother. “Can anybody find me~”

All eyes turn to Floyd expectantly, but only Branch takes his hand, smiling to him to tell him that he doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to.

But Floyd is comfortable enough to sing the trademark note of the song. “Somebody to~”

Branch sings with last part with him, glowing from the perfect harmony, but his brothers unaffected as usual. “~Love.”

The glow fades as Branch is reminded that still only he can harness the power of the perfect harmony. But his brothers embrace him joyously, ecstatic over his ability.

I can’t decide if I want to establish that the stronger Branch’s harmony becomes, the more it can do. Like for instance, at the beginning, the harmony brings feelings of peace and later, happiness, which he could use to end the problems between the Trolls and the Bergens. After the Somebody to Love sequence, maybe it isn’t until they get back to their tent that they realize the harmony can heal him.

With their brothers all in their own spaces and unwinding for the night, Floyd sighed in exhaustion as he followed Branch into the tent the five of them shared.

“Sit down and I’ll be right there to take a look at that cut,” Floyd told his little brother, who lingered.

“Floyd, you should just try to rest and relax. You’ve been defending my right to sit down all week. Take a break,” Branch requested.

Floyd smiled like he was trying not to cry when he hugged Branch. “I’m okay.” He pulled back to look him in the face. “Besides, it’ll take a while to reach the next town. We’ll have plenty of time for all of us to rest up then. Except for you, superstar. You need all the sleep you can get. You look like you’re ready to pass out right here.”

Branch watched his brother’s concerned face twist into confused features. “What’s wrong?”

Floyd stared at the place the cut had been on Branch’s cheek. “The cut is gone.” He thumbed the scar. “How could it have scarred and healed already?”

The brothers stared at each other silently before they both turned and called for John Dory in unison.

“What! What!” Frantic and convinced someone was bleeding or dying, the big brother came running to the two youngest, asking what was wrong. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

Annnnd John Dory has no idea what to say or do because he didn’t even know the perfect harmony could do that???

Anyway, there’s more to this than what I have on this post, but I don’t want to make it longer than it already is. So yeah, there’ll probably be more posts about this AU.

[bananna-threads]

Hi! I just stumbled upon your blog so apologies if i'm asking something you've already answered. I've been embroidering for a while and have been wanting to take the jump to embroidering clothes as well, but I've been struggling with figuring out how to handle the back of the embroidery and i haven't really been able to find much advice. I wonder if there's a specific technique that you use?

Hi there! No worries--you are actually my very first ask, so this is exciting for me lol 🎉 As for advice, these are just personal preferences, so take them with a grain of salt because I don't know if this is necessarily the "right" way, just my way.

1. When beginning a new section/color, don't use bulky knots. I don't know about you, but when I was first taught to sew, I was shown how to tie a quick knot at the end of my thread. I would do this by wrapping the thread around my pointer finger a couple times, then using my thumb to twist/slide it off. Almost like a little French knot at the end. Don't do this. I made the mistake of using these knots when I first started my embroidered sleeves, and because I was using embroidery floss and not fine sewing thread, it essentially made a bunch of little bumps that you could feel against your skin, as well as when you ran your hand over the top of the embroidery. That's why instead you should...

2. Use a holding stitch. If you've used a sewing machine, you'll be familiar with how you always begin and end a line of stitches with a back-stitch. Well, you can also essentially do this when sewing by hand too! The Royal School of Needlework has a useful StitchBank that includes the holding stitch (along with many other useful stitches!) You can also use this technique to end a line of stitching, as long as it's done in a place that will eventually be covered up by other stuff (aka a finishing stitch).

3. Don't leave long "traveling" threads when starting on a new section. I know when you are embroidering and you finish an area, and the next part you have to work on is only a couple inches away, it's tempting to just bring up the needle in the new spot. But this just leaves a bunch of loose threads on the back for things to catch on. Plus if your fabric is a bit see-through, and there is a lot of dead-space in your design, you may actually see it through the front. Of course there are exceptions--like when you know that area will be covered by other stitches--so it's up to your discretion in the end.

4. Use a lining. Not necessarily a requirement (I didn't actually line my sleeves--it would have been too hot), but if you want to protect the back of your embroidery from rubbing up against your skin or catching on things, you can always line the area with fabric like you normally would when sewing a garment. If the garment is already made and you are adding decorative embroidery to it, don't worry about lining it. You might just have to take a little extra care when putting it into the wash. Use a delicates bag, or wash by hand.

5. And this doesn't necessarily have anything to do with the back, but the order in which I work a piece usually goes: filling stitches, outline stitches, then surface stitches. So I'll do my holding stitch, block in larger areas with filling stitches (in my sleeves, these were the blackwork patterns, but another classic example is the satin stitch), then I'll outline those areas as needed (i.e. chain, stem stitch, etc.), and lastly finish with any decorative surface stitches (a french knot or woven wheel are examples of this).

Sorry if this was entirely too long-winded, I just got excited and tend to err on the side of over-explaining. If you do end up embroidering some clothing, I'd love to see!

[saltyb0ba]

im soooo normal about ezran callum sibling relationship

the little kid who had to grow up too fast, leaving stolen jelly tarts behind for clean hands on the throne and the big kid who never got a chance to play house with his younger brother before worries took the place of imagination. the kid king who seems to be handling things well, but no longer laughs at jokes with his kind of humor, and would rather get to the point than have a bit of fun with finding out the answer.

ezran luckily has a strong support system and a brother that will be there for him no matter what, putting himself in danger just to ensure ezran's safety. he's bonded with zym on a psychic and emotional level, and can talk to animals with relative ease. making the burden of the crown just a bit lighter. he knows he has people he can reach out to and lean on, and takes advantage of that when the offer is handed to him. growing up hurts, but with loved ones surrounding him, it was okay. as okay as it could be.

callum is his own support system. soren's called him step-prince for as long as he could remember, and though it was never explicitly shown, it's not hard to infer the amount of damage that can inflict on someone's mind. he already was second in line to the throne despite being the older sibling, and to just have it drilled in your head again and again that someone doesn't want you there just hurts. and it forms an unhealthy mindset that sticks with him for a while.

soren's insisted that it was a joke, but it's not wrong for callum to take it personally. especially with how many times soren's repeated it. claudia lost his respect a long time ago. callum isn't really shown to have the same amount of familiarity with the royal court as ezran does, and his office is a bit isolated from the rest of the castle. it isn't where he sleeps (though sometimes falls asleep in), but even in his own quarters he's separated from ezran. that bed's either filled by rayla or just empty moonlight at this point.

callum's always taken his own path whereas ezran followed in his father's footsteps.

that's naturally led to callum exploring a new future alone (or at least, with minimal support) vs ezran having the entire castle staff to rely upon with centuries' worth of experience in handling the rule of a king.

and proven in the series, it's caused ezran to detach from callum a bit himself. how he thought callum's upset post-possession was about rayla and not the literal puppeting that had been going on. he was never able to see through his brother the way callum could see through ezran and that's likely intentional.

bait and zym are also like parallels to their relationship in a sense; ezran had accidentally batted bait away in his sleep and bait left, upset and a little angry -- until callum saw him and invited him to hang out with him. they don't have a connection like ezran and zym have (unless you wanna get super meta, since bait's sounds are made by jack desena), but they understand each other just as much as the king and dragon prince do. before that happened, however, bait was very clingy with ezran. see the connection?

they haven't abandoned each other, far from it. they've gotten more aggressive in their love, especially with the stakes raising and callum extremely prone to becoming a weapon. ezran would prefer to talk things out, though something tells me aaravos would rather have fun with his toys instead of discussing things. maybe the way they show brotherly love is different now, but callum knows what sacrifice he would have to make to protect his family, his brother. ezran doesn't want to lose callum, and is determined to find a solution that doesn't involve the loss of his brother. his only brother.

thank you for coming to my ted talk this was a massive brain dump that i just needed to get out haha! i'm a sucker for sibling relationships and theirs draws me in like no other.

[whisperwritingstuff]

what begins to wake royal beasts mumbo is the feeling of growling filling the whole of the room

he reaches out without even opening his eyes, trying to pat scar, to soothe whatever's upsetting him enough for maybe a few more minutes of sleep

mumbo's hand connects with something slimy. tacky. something that sticks to his hand and sends shivers of disgust down mumbo's spine

well, mumbo's significantly more awake now. he opens his eyes to find the number of vex in the bed with him have multiplied. specifically by two. there are two vex in the bed with him. both vex are here.

both vex are coated in the disgusting filth mumbo had touched, especially cub.

neither vex is growling

mumbo blinks several times, convinced someone else is here, but every time he tries to think about it, something-

"Hey. I'm gonna. I think I'll come back later, yeah? Like. Unless you... need help?" Tango's voice by the door, hesitant. Mumbo can feel his own heart pound with the increased growling, so he can guess why Tango looks like he wants to turn tail and run.

"I... Think we're good. Thank you?" Mumbo finds himself saying. He can handle the vex, certainly. they're not- well, they are unruly, but they seem to like him, for better and worse. and they mostly sort of listen to him. And that other thing-

Scar makes soft clicking noises, and Cub joins in. The overwhelming pressure slackens some. Mumbo gives Tango a smile and waves him off. Mumbo just needs to get a handle on the situation, then it'll be fine.

-

voices call scar back to wakefulness. cub is still staring at him, as if he might go somewhere if cub stopped looking. he flicks Cub's nose and gets bit for his troubles.

the only thing ruining the moment is his summoner's distress, an anger that tastes so sweet and soothing in its possessiveness that scar almost wants to let it stand. almost.

scar clicks soothing and affection to the presence of his summoner, soon joined by cub

the anger loosens, then dissipates entirely when the intruder leaves

good, scar wants his summoner to be happy. he's allowed to have that one little want, right? that's alright?

mumbo's saying something

it's even more difficult this time to bring his focus to it, but scar does manage to pick out one word. bath.

scar knows that word. warm and wet and surrounded by nice smells. he nods, and hopes that's the right answer to get them bath.

apparently so, as Mumbo sort of bundles them out of the bed and to the wash chambers

scar's supposed to be the distractable one, but mumbo keeps stopping and starting what he's doing. occasionally twitches. flinches. can't quite focus.

cub covers mumbo's eyes for a minute, which seems to help, mostly

mumbo still does have to look sometimes, to help them set up the baths, but little breaks every now and again, eyes covered, seem to help him quite a bit with holding it together

cub refuses to leave scar's side, always in contact with him somehow, be it hand or shoulders bumping or his tail around scar's leg

a quick rinse and then they sink into the steaming bath together, practically melting into one another

even with the rinse, mumbo has to cycle the water several times before it remains clean enough for them to soak in for a while

scar relaxes, comfortable and safe

his summoner's presence touches his mind, and scar yields entirely, opening himself for it to move through his memories

scar finds Cub's hand, holds it tight as the memory of grian taking him to his enclosure fills his mind, scrutinized by his summoner

faintly scar sees images overlaid on it. sees his own body hit the floor, lifeless. would that have been better? for a moment scar doubts, but then he remembers he wouldn't be able to hold cub and feel his summoner if he were dead, and decides it wouldn't have been.

he gets to his flowers and the time speeds up, and when mumbo and tango break through, the whole thing dissipates, leaving only the now, the bath, the presence and cub

cub is... mad? with their summoner. scar can feel the low simmer of it, even though cub is keeping it in check.

he nuzzles cub, which cub leans into, before shaking his head

yep, that's cub's being practical face. cub speaks simply. their summoner needs more than cub has to give.

scar's mind races ahead and reaches the same conclusion cub would get to if he let cub keep talking

instead scar skips right to the end, offering himself up freely to their summoner, magic, body, and soul

hesitation lingers in the air around them, but not for long, before hunger wins and exhaustion lances through scar

cub supports him, so he doesn't drop under the water

scar smiles, giggles even

how could he not be delighted to be consumed by his summoner? rapture flows through him, just as quickly consumed as the rest

cub joins him in feeding their summoner

the room glows

brighter, brighter

blinding-bright, searing through everything without ever touching anything

and then the light is gone, entirely

for a brief moment something mostly grian-shaped hovers in the air above them-

and then it plummets down into the bath, splashing water all over the room