#marriage isn’t really a prison

[doctorstarlock]

Marriage is a prison until I hear a man say that then I’m like “oh so you’re too immature to know how to do the emotional work to make a long term commitment last and be a source of joy and support? Embarrassing for you.”

[luveline]

hey jade! maybe this is a tad more angsty than you'd like but could I request prison!Spence getting a visit from bombshell!reader and Amy? or a phonecall with them? q

ty for your request <3 mom!reader, 1.4k

“Best behaviour,” you’re whispering, hand on Amy’s small back, her shoe digging into your hip. “I’m serious, baby. Big feelings are okay, but we can’t be loud. We can’t shout.” 

She frowns. Amy’s been a little against you these last few weeks. “I’m not shouting.” 

“I know.” You try and fail to divide your attention between her and the line you’re following. You almost miss the sound of the buzzer that ushers you forward. “Okay, I’m right here. I know everything has been super scary, and you’re my brave girl, but I’m right here. You can tell me anything. Okay?” 

She rubs your chin with her nose. “Okay, mom.”

“Okay. Let’s go see daddy!” you cheer under your breath, enthusing your voice with some false joy. 

Your nerves threaten to make you sick, but you have to be the put together one. This is the strife part of the marriage you’d signed up for. Though no one can blame you for handling it poorly —who could ever expect Spencer to be where he is right now? 

You carry Amy into the penitentiary visitor’s room with apprehension, shoulders stiff, fingers aching against your little girl’s rough denim jacket. The room is laid out strangely, but there’s a clear division between the prisoners and the visitors, though there’s no overarching perspex. There are dividers, sure, but you can touch him. You can see him sitting near the middle of the room, his hair in violent disarray, his eyes locked onto you already. 

You speed up your walking. 

Desperate, your knee knocks into a chair as you try to touch his face. 

Spencer lets you for a half a second, before he moves away. “You’re not allowed to touch me,” he says, voice laden with a raw apologeticness that threatens to trip you up immediately. 

“Daddy!” Amy says, squirming in your arms, her foot on the desk as she tries to shove herself over the short partition. 

Spencer, in a dads instinct, reaches for her without thinking. “Amy, Amy,” he says. 

“No touching!” a guard shouts clearly. 

Spencer pushes Amy gently back into your arms and holds his arms up in surrender. The guard veers his way, but walks off again when he sees Spencer’s compliance. 

“Daddy,” she whines, holding out her hand. 

“Sit down,” Spencer says to you. 

You sit down. The gap between both you and Amy and Spencer widens, her little legs pumping restlessly into your thighs. You’ll be bruised as a soft pear when you go home, but you barely feel it now. 

“Shh,” you say, wrapping your arms around her like a straight jacket. You don’t really have a choice. “Shh, baby, shh. Remember what mommy said, okay? We have to be quiet, or they won’t let us see your daddy anymore. We have to follow the rules.” 

“It’s okay,” Spencer says. He clears his throat. “Hey, Amanda?” 

She looks up in surprise at her full first name. “What?” she asks. 

“God, it’s so good to see you.” His voice thickens with emotion, but he keeps a tight handle on it. “I miss you so much, sweetheart. So much.” He looks at you. “I miss you,”  he says again. 

“We miss you too.” You wipe your nose. “It’s weird just being mom and Amy at home.” 

Weird isn’t the right word. Amy has cried herself sick five nights a week for the last month, because if her mom is home, why isn’t her dad? Why can’t she talk to him? Where did he go? 

“When can you be home?” Amy asks, reaching toward the glass again. 

Spencer looks around the room before he reaches over the half-partition to hold her hand. He gives you a look: watch my back. 

“I don’t know yet,” he says, holding her hand tightly, and giving her fingers little squeezes, “I’m sorry, princess.” 

You give him a look of your own: change the subject. 

You miss Spencer more than you’ve ever missed another person. There’s never been a feeling as acute as this in your life, you don’t know what to do with yourself when you aren’t with him. The only thing you can do is be Amy’s mom, and you’ve always felt that Spencer made you better at it. Without him, you’re struggling. 

He looks like he can tell. 

He diverts his attention from you to Amy again, ducking his head, his face posed into his most loving smile. “You’re so pretty, just like your mommy. You’re getting prettier every day, aren’t you? Mommy told me you’ve been helping make your own dinner. That’s amazing. You’re my smart girl.” 

“I make– made our favourite last night.” She struggles over ‘favourite’, but she’s as smart as her father. The words come easily. “We had, uh– butter chicken! And mommy made…” 

You blink a small tear from the corner of your eye. “I made garlic naan. We toasted them under the grill, didn’t we?” you ask with a sniffle. 

“Yes!” She looks back at you. “Dad’s plate.” 

You wipe your cheek quickly. “We kept you some,” you say, fighting as hard as you can to stop yourself from crying at the table. You can’t break down here, and you won’t. “Amy was worried you’d come home and be hungry, so we saved you some.” 

Spencer leans far over the table to squeeze your wrist. Behind him, the prison guard begins making their way to your table.

“Spencer.” You lean away before he can get caught. 

Spencer snatches his hand back to grip the partition. 

He smiles. “Angel,” he says clearly, looking you straight in the eye, “you’re doing so good. I can’t believe how amazing you are.” 

“I’m gonna fix this,” you promise. 

“No, no, angel, I just need you to look after yourself, and my princess.” He gives Amy a smile dripping with affection. “She needs lots of looking after. Don’t you, Amy? I know mommy’s doing such a great job looking after you.” 

“I miss you,” she says. 

“I miss you too.” 

“Can I have a hug now?” 

He looks back, right into the watchful gaze of the guard. He turns back with a smile that’s nearly convincing. “Not right now, I probably don’t smell very nice, and they don’t want me to get my gross smell on you.” 

“Ew, daddy.” 

“Ew,” he agrees, wrinkling his nose. “I wish I smelled like you and mommy. What smell is it today, baby?” 

“Persimmon,” she says. She preens at the suggestion that she smells good, relaxing against your chest. 

You kiss her temple. 

“Persimmon,” Spencer says. He couldn’t sound more proud. “You know what? Persimmons have lots of meaning. They’re a symbol of perseverance.” He remembers to dumb it down. “People who eat lots of persimmons are strong, they can get through anything. Maybe when you and mommy go home, you can share a persimmon, and I can eat one here, and together we’ll be strong while we wait for me to come home.” 

“You can come home now,” Amy says. “Come home with us!” 

“I can’t,” he says gently. “It’s complicated.” 

“I think daddy has the right idea,” you say, interrupting his explanation unapologetically, “I think we should go to the market when we leave and pick all the different fruits, and I’ll send some for dad here, and we can eat them at the same time.” 

“Like a picnic?” 

“I can make little sandwiches, and we’ll get your teddies,” you agree. “Whatever you want. But first, I think you need to tell daddy all about this week. What book have we been reading? Oh, and we got you some new shoes ‘cos your feet got bigger!” 

He smiles lovingly. “Oh, they did?” he asks softly. 

You know he’s gutted.

(Spencer gets out of prison almost two whole months later. He gives Amy a huge box of tangerines (with the white lie that they are persimmons, hard to find in DC, and your sweet girl doesn’t know the difference yet) with a new pair of converse wrapped in a red silk bow, promising that he will never miss another fitting. He doesn’t know where to start with you, that much is obvious, he’s so grateful to be home and he’s sick to his stomach with guilt, too. He doesn’t realise the only thing you needed was for him to come back. 

The diamond necklace is a nice gesture, though not half as valuable as his face pressed to your neck as he sleeps, Amy on his stomach, their long fingers sticky with orange peels. It makes all your silent crying worth it.)

[krysmcscience]

It’s finally done, guys – five whole pages of Narilamb AU comic AND MORE be upon you! (If you have trouble reading any of the text, view the full-size! These pages are huge!)

Yeesh, this took forever. <:)

There’s probably a ton of inconsistencies and anatomy/perspective wonkeries, but this was mostly just comic practice, so Oh Hekkin Well, Lol <:D

(Yes, I am aware the Gateway’s door isn’t present in the Afterlife, and the actual way in is just a pentagram portal. Yes, I put the door in there anyway because Artistic License, i.e. it felt more impactful for there to be a prison door of sorts to walk through to freedom, rather than just a bland boring portal on the ground. 😠)

anyway, i hate backgrounds so much lmao

Alternate ending and a buttload of bonus art under the cut, followed by goofy AU rambles and headcanon stuff:

I’m calling it the Revival AU. It’s not all that creative a title, and someone else has probably used it already, but I am too lazy to really care, LOL

Alternate ending page, which you will Definitely need to view the full-size for, Whoopsie Daisy:

The alternate ending was actually the first ending I finished things off with, because I had a brief badbrain moment where I forgot the emotional beat I initially wanted the comic to end on, and I tend to write comedy, anyway. I later remembered and drew out the proper ending, but I preserved and finished this one, too, because it still makes me giggle.

They had to go back for the followers off-screen in the AU’s real ending. And by ‘they’ I mean just the Lamb, because they weren’t about to ask three newly freed cats to go back into what used to be their prison. The Lamb DID spend some time watching Narinder and the bois enjoying the outdoors first, though:

In other news, here’s the Lamb and me making fun of my anatomy-drawing ‘skills’:

Meanwhile, if you’re wondering why the Lamb is just a-okay with how things went down vis a vis Their Murder, this bonus comic should answer at least some of your questions:

Ah, yes, also this is how they get engaged outside of the alternate ending. Forgot to mention that bit. XD (I already refuse to believe that Narinder is capable of flirting normally, so why would his initial marriage proposal be any better???)

Oh, and before any of them get a chance to actually head back to the cult grounds, there is one potential problem:

And by ‘problem’ I mean something Narinder intends to ignore for At Minimum a thousand years. Cuz he’s a petty bitch like that. :D

what do you mean i drew the lamb too tall compared to the background? clearly they’re standing on top of baal and aym lmao, why else would you think those two aren’t in this one??? (aym and baal got way too excited about finally being outside, you see, and their silly modes are nothing to sneeze at)

And, speaking of heading back to the cult grounds, I’m sure y’all would love to know how the Lamb’s followers felt about the brand new change in management:

It all went better than expected. <:D Tiny ramble now, feel free to skip down to the next comic.

Before you ask, no, the Lamb does not have any actual powers anymore, other than the immortality Narinder definitely grants them. The Red Crown just thinks it’s funny to suggest otherwise, and Narinder does nothing to discourage this. Also, the Lamb and Narinder aren’t actually married here yet, but, uh. Pretty safe to say that particular ritual directly follows the events of this comic. XD

Given how quickly he mellows out in canon, Narinder probably chills out a lot in this AU once he’s in charge of the cult, too, if only because 1.) He’s finally free, and 2.) He’s equally smitten with and distracted by the Lamb. He’s definitely in charge at least 95% of the time, though, because the Lamb never actually wanted to be a cult leader and, now that their time as a vessel is done, they just want to be a normal(ish) sheep who’s wholly devoted to their hot new divine husband.

Some followers do still have some valid concerns about these two being together, though, which I’m sure at least a few of you might share…

Unfortunately for any such concerns, the Lamb is a bonafide masochist in this AU. :D

They’re also 100% a sub, obviously

Anyone at all: Your relationship is problematic and potentially toxic

The Lamb: fuck yeah it is, it’s so hot~ OuO

Here’s just the last panel, made transparent for whatever nefarious purposes y’all might have for it:

Additional exchange Narinder and the Lamb have at some point, probably after the Lamb does a fatal whoopsie while out on a mission trip or in response to things getting a little too sadistic in the bedroom, ahaha:

Look, there is a very important distinction between life and death, and if you don’t understand that, then you’re probably not worthy of being the God of Death, anyway. (At least, according to Narinder, and ONLY Narinder.)

Last but not least, have these shittens:

~Such creative naming conventions I have utilized, lololol~ :D Anyway, there's a few deets on them in the rambles down below.

The rest is all ramble, so before I get to that, I’ll just say – likes and especially reblogs are very much appreciated!!! :D If you happen to really really REALLY like my stuff, meanwhile, I do have a link in my bio to my ko-fi page, where I’m accepting commissions and donations if you’re especially generous… ÓuÒ

Now, BE FREE IF YOU AIN’T DOWN FOR READING MY GOOFY RAMBLES

First ramble is re: Baal’s question of ‘Did it really work?’, since I didn’t feel like expanding on it in the comic proper, and it’s arguably pretty vague? He doesn’t ask because he doubts Narinder or his capabilities, exactly, but because neither Baal nor Aym have ever actually seen their god at full power before (he’s still technically not at full power here, either). It’s not expressly stated how soon the brothers were brought to Narinder after his imprisonment, but whether it was early on or after a length of time for Shamura to (somewhat) recover from his attack, he must have already been weakened, since I have no doubts that there was a huge battle that accompanied the Bishops working together to trap him. So, between that fight with all four of his siblings, sharing his power with a variety of vessels over time, and being chained immobile for a thousand years, he must have been severely weakened by the time he lent the Red Crown out to the Lamb, which would have only weakened him further.

I like to think this is how the Lamb is able to defeat him if they refuse to be sacrificed, despite how it took all four Bishops working together to subdue and chain Narinder in the first place.

All that aside, the three cats have been trapped in the Afterlife for so long that Baal also wanted verbal reassurance that they are all, indeed, actually able to leave it now – something that I headcanon isn’t possible without a significant amount of power (i.e. the Red Crown’s cooperation with its bearer/vessel).

(On a semi-related note, I don’t headcanon Aym and Baal as twins. I like sweetheart big bro Baal and snarky little goth bro Aym too much to have them be that close in age.)

Ah, teeny thing: If you noticed I switched up the art style for Narinder on the second page, that was intentional. It's sort of a visual indicator that there has been a Big Change for him - that being, how much power he has after sacrificing the Lamb. As for why I changed up his arms in the grass rollin' pic, I don't really subscribe to the notion that his arms are spooky bones because they're horrifically injured (beyond chain-chafing scars, that is), but rather just because he's the Bishop of Death, so he can change how normal-to-spooky they look at will. At some point I might doodle out how I imagine his appearance to range between least to most eldritch... 🤔

Next ramble, regarding Narinder’s feelings towards the Lamb...he was initially too focused on being freed from his imprisonment to form any real attachment to them. They were a tool for his use, first and foremost, but he did notice their intense devotion towards him. It was impossible not to notice, because the Lamb was always very happy to see him, even if it was because they died during a crusade (yet again). He wasn’t originally planning to revive them once he was freed, either, because he saw no real point to it – after all, they were already dead when they first met him, just as any other mortal would be when meeting him in the Afterlife, so death has very little real consequence in his eyes. But, once the chains were off, and it really sank in that he stood to lose the most devoted follower he’s ever had, he decided…why put their soul to rest for good or leave them stuck in the Afterlife when he could just as easily revive them again? And why not reward them for their hard work, anyway? Not only would it cost him nothing by comparison, but the future devotion that could come of it would surely make up for his (bare minimum) effort in reviving them.

He wasn’t expecting to get a full dose of that devotion and a smiling face so soon after killing them, though~ :3c (because the Lamb is a bonafide freak, and not-so-secretly into the fucked up power dynamics going on here, lol)

I should mention here that I am firmly of the belief that any non-god/vessel who crosses through the Gateway and into the Afterlife just straight up dies. So, Aym and Baal? Also straight up dead, from the second Shamura brought them through. Their souls were just never put to rest so that Narinder could have some company – if only according to Shamura. Narinder kept the two around mostly out of bewilderment, because honestly, who are these kittens, and what is Shamura’s game here, anyway??? They never even explained anything, they just tossed these kittens into the Afterlife and LEFT!!! At any rate, Aym and Baal being dead is how I explain why their souls apparently become lost in the void if they’re killed, along with the added complications required to revive the two because of it.

So, with those deets in mind, and given a bit of time, if Narinder hadn’t chosen to revive the Lamb, and also hadn’t chosen to put their soul to rest, they still would have woken up at some point, despite being as straight up dead as Aym and Baal. Who, don’t worry, were also properly revived while Narinder was waiting for the Lamb to wake up. Because I am also firmly of the belief that, first, the dead cannot leave the Afterlife without the use of a ritual/relic (and can't stay in the living world for long regardless), and second, dead followers’ devotion isn’t anywhere near as potent as that of the living, given how much more the living stand to lose.

Final ramble, regarding the Lamb’s feelings towards Narinder, and why they’re so devoted to him…

Well, you don’t spend most of your life on the run with your steadily-dwindling herd, trying to evade the ongoing genocide of your species, without becoming a little fucked up in the head. Maybe a lot fucked up in the head. Life is suffering, so might as well have fun with it, right? Maybe start finding death and pain to be kind of hilarious, even a little bit hot, once everyone you know and love is dead and gone, leaving you all alone? And maybe after that, there’s something comforting in how, despite the cold, cruel uncertainties of life, at least you can always count on the inevitability of death, patiently waiting for you until your very last breath? Who knows. Either way, as soon as the Lamb was killed, and they learned that the literal God of Death was offering them a second chance at life and vengeance via effective immortality, they were 100% ride-or-die-devoted all at once. Turns out death is kinder than life – go figure. (Of course, it helps that Narinder is 100% their type.)

They weren’t put off by Narinder’s thinly-veiled sadism or manipulations, either – they’re not too different in those regards, albeit opting for vastly different methods. It’s a very ‘two sides of the same coin’ sort of deal. In order to stay alive once they were made the last of their kind, the Lamb had no qualms with using others to their advantage, and that did not change once they were revived and expected to run a cult. They didn’t care for the position of authority, though – being a sheep and all, they’re much more of a follower than a leader, and thus greatly appreciated Narinder’s need for control. With how they had to keep on their toes for so long, the Lamb was also pretty good at reading people by the time they died, so they could recognize that a lot of Narinder’s posturing was just that – posturing. Dude’s 95% bluster and only 5% bite. He could obviously be vicious when he wanted or needed to (the Bishops' injuries were clear proof of that), but underneath his outer layer of cruelty was a generous layer of tsundere, and underneath all THAT was a soft squishy middle sibling velcro cat in desperate need of attention and affection.

(Which, for the record, he Did Not feel comfortable getting from Aym and Baal – Narinder still has no idea why the fuck Shamura sent them to him, beyond acting as keepers at best or trying to sabotage his attempts to escape at worst. Which, he thought HE sabotaged in turn, by guiding the kittens into being his devoted disciples instead. He thought he was very clever for it. ‘I outsmarted Shamura!’ he thought, despite that there was never anything there to outsmart. ‘What do you mean, Shamura sent your kittens to me for company?’ he demands of Forneus later. It may or may not lead him to pull Shamura out of Purgatory just so he can shake them and scream about how they should have Fucking Explained that!!!)

But, getting back on track as to why the Lamb was so willing to be sacrificed, I cannot stress this enough – if you pay even a minimal amount of attention to what he’s saying, Narinder is REALLY NOT SUBTLE about his intentions. ‘Death is of little consequence.’ ‘Followers are for you to use to your advantage.’ ‘Sacrifice a follower to absorb more power.’ So, yeah, the Lamb knew exactly what would be expected of them once the other Bishops were dead. They knew Narinder would expect them to die for him one last time. But, after all, death is of little consequence (not to mention hot), so when the time came, they wanted to see him freed, even if it meant oblivion for them in the end.

He’d given them a second life, and the ability to avenge their kin, and they felt indebted to him for that – so, while they were still pretty glum about the possibility that they might not get to see him free of his chains, nothing beyond their devotion and debt to him mattered. They never wanted all the drama and expectations that came with the Red Crown’s power, anyway, so, better for Narinder to have it back so that he could deal with it. What he did with the Lamb afterward would be up to him, and seeing as he was their god, they’d accept his decision gladly.

Were they in love with him by that point? Oh, obsessively so, but only in the devotional sense – romance was nowhere on their mind nor radar. That is, until he unexpectedly revived them again, told them he still needed them, and then offered down his hand to help them up.

The Lamb fell HARD for him in that moment. :3c

And now, a tiny shitten ramble. Lu and Li are twins, because sheep tend to have those a lot, and are conceived not long after the Lamb and Narinder’s marriage ceremony. Lu is the minutes older one, but Li is much more mature. I have put no further thought into these two, other than that they are utter menaces, birthed by the Lamb, cling hard to both their parents but especially Narinder (who spoils them rotten), and they are both genderfluid, using whichever pronouns/names they feel like at any given time. They are also both intersex, same as the Lamb, who was initially infertile up until Something Something Vague Magic, which I have also put no further thought into ¯\_(シ)_/¯

oh, and before anyone tries to suggest i headcanon this AU’s lamb as trending more female due to them giving birth or whatever, no, no, a thousand times no, they might have a vag, but they've also got a dick, and even if it's not as big as they'd like, they still know how to use it

Finally, the very tentative name for the Lamb in this AU is Yazdi, which is really just another name for the Baluchi breed of sheep XD (Not that the Lamb is this specific breed, I just didn’t like any of the other sheep-related names I found, ahaha...)

THAT’S ALL FOR NOW (collapses into an exhausted pile of goopy limbs)

[thirteenducks]

feverish

(wriothesley x wife!reader) [sfw]

༻❁༺ content: fem!reader (reader is referred to by ‘wife’ and "she/her"), established relationship, marriage, reader has hair long enough to reach neck

༻❁༺ word count: ~1.5k

༻❁༺ tags: sickfic, banter while sick, this is just wrio taking care of you and being a butt while doing it, feat. sigewinne who does not get paid enough for this, if you are sick and reading this rn im so sorry and i hope you get well soon, coldsink wrio x heatsource wife agenda

༻❁༺ author’s note: my friend @mmmairon is sick and i am in another country and cannot help so i'm sending wrio on my behalf. pls enjoy especially if you don't feel well right now :(

After a restless night, Wriothesley is thrilled to hear that you're awake now. He wastes no time in rushing to your side.

Wriothesley’s pen scratches unpleasantly against a disciplinary notice, its point threatening to carve into the wood of the desk beneath. The owner mutters darkly under his breath as he completes a signature on the offending paper and slides it to his left. Immediately, another takes its place from the stack on his right.

For two hours, nothing else has broken the quiet of the Duke’s office. Two hours too long, by Wriothesley’s measure. He glances at the clock, hand continuing to sign his name by sheer muscle memory.

Are you getting any rest? Did the chamomile from your tea an hour ago help at all, or are the throes of fever keeping you awake? Does he have the right ingredients to make you beef stew? Preoccupied, he writes “soup” on the signature line of a prisoner release form by mistake.

He sighs, pinching the crooked bridge of his nose between his fingers. They’re as cold as ever. He misses the warmth of yours unspeakably.

The next thirty minutes pass like an eternity. Surely, Sigewinne would be at his side in an instant if you were awake. His presence there now would only serve to wake you from much-needed rest and defer his backlog of paperwork even more. Neither of these points keeps him from staring the clock down like he’s in the ring again.

Suddenly, there’s a quiet knock on his door and Wriothesley snaps to attention, nearly knocking over an inkwell in his haste. Sigewinne enters without his bidding, an unreadable expression on her kind face. She doesn’t wait for his question before she answers it.

“Yes, the tea put her to sleep, and yes, she’s awake now.”

His features relax in a moment, the furrow in his brow smoothing.

“I’m afraid she’s not any better than she was this morning, however. I would have really liked to see her fever come down by now...” The Melusine trails off, her small hand on her chin and a pout on her face. “The chill probably isn’t doing her much good, either.”

Her boss, however, is already halfway downstairs, pulling his coat on as he takes the steps two at a time. Sigewinne sighs as she turns to follow him at a much slower pace. So predictable when his wife is involved.

In contrast to the speed at which he crosses the fortress to your shared living quarters, Wriothesley’s steps are soft as he nears your bedroom door.

“Sweetheart? Are you up?”

A weak cough answers him. He’s by the bedside in a moment, kneeling and pushing aside the curtain that hides you from him. Your eyes squint a bit as the sickly light of the fortress filters in, and his hand moves up to shield your face as he appears in your field of vision.

Despite the red ringing your eyes and nose and the congestion in your breathing, you smile up at him and his heart almost jumps out of his chest.

“Hi, darling.”

The side of his mouth quirks up. “Hi. Feeling any better?”

You shake your head slightly, your hair fanning out on the pillow beneath you. He silently gathers it in one hand and moves it away from your neck as he waits for you to continue. The brush of his cool hand against your flushed skin feels incredible and you bring your hand to rest on his, a silent entreaty to keep it there.

“Sigewinne says I’m in the worst of it now and that from here-” you stop to cough, Wriothesley’s eyes raking over your frame as it shakes with the effort. “-from here it should be uphill. As long as I can rest up today.”

He pushes the hair back from your forehead with his other hand, stroking it absentmindedly. “Well, we’ll have to stick it out until tomorrow then, huh?” The grin he shoots you, all teeth, does more for you than you think any of the medicine on your bedside table has.

That’s why you’re as surprised as he is when the tears start to roll down your cheeks. You hadn’t even known they were there until now, but suddenly it’s so much harder to breathe than it was and Wriothesley is a swimming blur in front of you. The shooting pain in your head, dulled to an ache until now, comes back in full force as your body curls in on itself and your temple meets your husband’s shoulder.

You don’t know if you’re crying from the headache, from exhaustion, or from something else, and your mind is too foggy to care. All you can do is be held as his arms come to rest firmly around you and he pulls you to him, murmuring words of comfort.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry... I wish I could do more.” Your hands grip his collar a little tighter as you sob into the juncture of his neck and shoulder. “I know, love. You’ll feel better soon, I promise. Sigewinne and I are gonna take care of everything, okay?”

There’s an edge of concern to his voice that you can hear even through the haze of sickness. You hate it. It’s likely just the seasonal flu; half the Fortress has had it at some point this winter. The thought of how much you were making him worry over something so small as this...

“I know what you’re thinking. Stop it,” Wriothesley gently reprimands, his cool fingers stroking your forehead again. You can feel the cold metal of his wedding ring against the heated skin. “You’re not being a baby about anything. You hear me?”

Your silence speaks volumes. He laughs a little, the sound loud in the silence of your bedroom. “I know you well, don’t I?”

It takes a while for your tears to completely subside. When you’re finished sniffling against his collar, he props you up against the headboard with pillows behind your back. You’re more congested than ever, something your husband has the nerve to laugh at as he hands you tissues, but there’s no unkindness in his tone.

He disappears into the kitchen for a few minutes as you doze, exhausted from the effort of crying for so long. When he eases the door open again, he’s carrying a tray with a teacup and pot (of course) and a bowl of something that smells warm and comforting.

“Hmm. Excellent room service this place has. The waiter is a little scruffy, though,” you say as Wriothesley places it on your lap, tucking in the covers around you.

He gives you a fake look of injury. “How dare you, ma’am. I’ll have you know I’m too worried about my wife to shave, who I’m afraid is deathly ill,” he sighs, stroking the stubble on his jaw. He spoons soup into your mouth before you can retort, stifling a smile.

Once you’ve drained half the soup, Wriothesley seems satisfied. He removes the tray from your lap and takes your hand, bringing it to his own forehead.

“Oh, no. How awful.” He shoots you a glance. “It appears the Duke of the Fortress has come down with something.”

You raise an eyebrow. His forehead is as cool as the rest of him is. “Really.”

“Oh, yes,” he says, flopping onto your lap. “It looks like he’ll be out of the office for the rest of the day.”

You laugh, wincing when it makes your head throb. “The Duke sounds like a slacker, if you ask me.”

“Well, everyone knows that,” Wriothesley murmurs, burying his face into your thigh. “They’ll have to tell my boss about it.” You feel him grin against your leg.

You sigh, feigning exasperation. “What a shame. I was just about to ask him to dinner, too.”

Wriothesley has migrated to his side of the bed by now and is nestling into your side with the stubbornness of a dog. “Don’t worry, I hear he’s a messy eater. Absolute carnivore.”

Your hands come to rest on his head, the soft grey strands tickling your palms. “You know you’re going to get sick, right? I’m highly contagious.”

No answer.

“You’re the head of the Fortress, Wrio. If you get laid up, Sigewinne might put a bounty out on you. She seems like the type.”

Your husband murmurs into your side, already half-asleep. “She’ll have to catch me first.”

Despite your many blankets and the body next to you, a sudden chill runs through you and you stiffen. He feels it, arms tightening around your waist.

“Fever pills are on the bedside in the white bottle. Water is next to it.”

You smile. “Thank you, darling.” He hums in response.

A few days later, you’re well enough to leave your room again. Sigewinne would be thrilled, if not for your husband, who looks more smug than any sick man has a right to be.

He sniffles, burrowing into your sheets again as the Melusine glares daggers at him. “I’ll be fine. My wife loves me and I have leftover soup in the fridge. What else does a man need?”

[marisatomay]

I really find saying to any LGBT person “You know, being gay is illegal in Palestine and you can be put to death for it” to be such a contemptible, smug thing to throw in our faces because, first of all, Palestine follows the old *British* codes from when they were under Britain’s colonial thumb, so any conversation about the social laws and norms of Palestine must include their long colonial past. Furthermore, LGBT people are killed everywhere. If you don’t pass enough, if you’re too faggy for some bigot to stomach, if you happen to be born into an unaccepting family, society, it can mean death for any LGBT person, anywhere in the world. And, for the record, gay marriage isn’t exactly legal in Israel either. But, most importantly—and this may come as a shock to some but—I believe in my heart that every single Palestinian could be a raging homophobe and/or transphobe who hates me and I STILL don’t think that means they should be slaughtered by the thousands in the open air prison they’re kept in because they live in an apartheid state. Human rights are unconditional. If you disagree then fix your heart or die.

[seireitonin]

can you do Jason the toymaker hcs? :( he's really my favoriteeeees

Hehehehe yeth I luv him! But be warned I HC his and LJ’s lives intertwining and I have a whole story for them in my head so some of these hcs will be that! (After reading this is more of a story bc I got carried away bc I never get to yap about these 2 sorry if this isn’t what you wanted! I can redo it!)

Jason The Toymaker hcs:

Jason Meyer was born in the 1800s

1830 specifically

He’s the son of the Meyer Estate

One of the richest families on that side of Europe

They had servants all around, so Jason always got what he wanted when he wanted, making him entitled to attention and things going his way

He was used to getting all attention from both of his parents since he was the only child

1850 he was 20 years old and his parents wanted him to get married and have children so Jason could take over and carry on the legacy

He showed no interest in marriage or having a family though, much more interested in his hobby of toy making

His parents didn’t understand why, but let him do it anyway hoping he’d show interest in starting a family and becoming the man of the estate

Jason was always different though

He’s always been pretty cold, calculating, entitled and jealous

If something is not what he wants or not about him he will show zero interest and disregard it

Jason is also very cruel

But he puts on a good mask and facade

He’s nice to his servants, his family and everyone around him, even if he doesn’t feel anything

Laughing Jack heard the rumors and gossip about Jason from people around the city

About the red haired toymaker who obsessively made toys and dolls instead of looking to marry

LJ at this point, was forced to kill Issac after escaping the prison that was his box

He was still holding onto the innocence he once had

Laughing Jack, desperate to be fixed, goes to his home, showing up in his room, using his teleportation

Jason, feeling not much fear, stares at him. Even though LJ was closer to a god than Jason will ever be, it’s like he still had control over the energy of the room

That’s just how conceited he is

Seeing the half rainbow , half black and white clown man in front of him didn’t even make him break a sweat

“Who are you? Why do you think your presence is allowed in my estate? Something as…repulsive as you?”

“Fix me. I ‘ear that’s all you’re good at.”

“Oh? A broken toy who requires my skills….insults me in my estate? Why would I even touch you? Let alone help you?”

“Because I can kill you where you’re standin’”

“Oh God, I can’t take those threats to heart when you speak to me so atrociously….who taught you to speak? An animal? I’ll rip your throat out and replace it so you can speak like you’re civilized, if you’d like”

Jason said with a sly smirk. He looks down on everyone even something literally sent from the heavens.

Laughing Jack being violent and unpredictable, stabs Jason in the arm, giggling violently

“Wanna fix that?”

LJ covers Jasons mouth with his hand before he can make a sound of pain and alert anyone

“Listen hea’ fire crotch, youa’ goin’ to fix me. goin’ turn me back to what I wuz. Or I skin you alive and wrap it ‘round one of them dolls you got hea? You got it?”

Jason laughs into his hand and nods. This is the rush and excitement he needs

“Agreed, clown thing”

Jason pushes Jack off of him

“One thing though. If you’re going to be around me, you will learn the proper way of speaking. You will learn the correct dialect and pronunciation. Understood? I’m not listening to that dribble.”

LJ glares and gives a half sharp toothed and half normal toothed evil grin

“No promises, fire crotch.”

“Stop saying that. It’s perverted.”

Jason took a good look at the new job in front of him

Jacks tan skin contrasting with his pure white skin along with his black and white clown outfit clashing with his rainbow side of the outfit. It was so bad it made Jason’s stomach turn

“What’s your name Clown Thing?”

“Laughing Jack! Hea to be man’s best friend!” He says semi sarcasticly

Part of him knew that was his purpose, but seeing the evil of Issac and the time period in general made him doubt that

“Jason Meyer”

The next morning the two talk

“What are you?”

“Uhh good question. Let’s go with demon fah now”

Jason cringed as LJs way of speaking

“Hmph fine. Okay demon. What’s wrong with you?”

“See dis rainbow side? Gotta get back to dat!”

“How do you expect me to do that?”

“You’re da expert!”

“My God.”

Jason put his head in his hands

“How’d you get this way anyhow?”

“Mmm loss of innocence and heart maybe? Dunno!”

“So…..you need….a heart?” Jason smiled evilly. He knew exactly where to get one

This woman who he found beautiful, had the audacity to reject the love he offered her

Jason’s version of love is attention on him at all times

She didn’t provide

So he’ll put her heart to good use

After cutting her chest open and taking her heart, LJ had ended up on Jason’s toy making table on his back with his chest split open

Letting Jason insert what he thought was missing

A heart

As LJ was getting stitched back up he spoke for the first time sadly and genuinely

“Think this’ll work?”

“…..Who knows Clown Thi-….Jack”

That was the closest Jason’s ever going to get to saying he feels bad for someone else

It didn’t work, but Jason decided to keep Jack around anyway

But Jason’s cruel personality with a nice facade rubbed off on him

Making LJ behave the way he did

Cruel with a nice mask

The heart that was put in LJ began to rot, almost making him colder

He had lost all his colors by this point

Which Jason found fascinating

A living toy that adapts to its owner, whoever that may be?

He had to keep Jack around and study him, re create something just like him

“Your speech is bearable to listen to now. Who taught you how to speak before?”

“Him…Issac.”

“Ah I see you adapted to his speech patterns….now you’re adapting to mine. Simply fascinating.”

“Don’t think you own me, fire crotch.”

“I’ll think what I’d like, clown thing.”

One of Jasons servants came to announce that Jasons parents are hosting a ball to find Jason a wife

Irritated, he goes to talk with them

“Mother, Father. Why are you so desperate for me to marry? You’re both going to live long and watch the estate, yes?”

They tell him it’s the role he has to take as the man of the estate and to carry on their legacy

He obviously can’t change their minds so he found himself being pampered for the ball

“Ridiculous.”

“Have fun, Jason”

“Oh no. You’re coming with me.”

“Why? I’m not the one who needs a wife here!”

“Because I’ll be bored.”

“Awe! You need me?”

“Shut it clown thing!”

So the attend together

No one can see Jack except for Jason

As they both watched the festivities and Jason made small talk with the guests and Jack giggled at him

“Good to see you smile.”

“Bite your tongue”

Jack was people watching while Jason spoke. His eyes widened as he saw the monster beautiful woman he had laid eyes on.

“Jason. Jason!”

He tugged at his sleeve

“What?! What?!”

Who’s that woman?”

“The daughter of the Carrington estate?”

“No! The one next to her!”

“The….servant?”

“Yes”

Jason’s eyes widened as he looked at the woman’s dark skin and curly black hair

“You want…the servant? That’s ridiculous! However…. Fascinating. You can feel attraction despite not being human…..I want to study it further. Besides, if I marry the Carrington daughter, it’ll get everyone to stop asking.”

“Whatever. I don’t care much about your human stuff.”

So Jason marries her, requesting that her servant lives in his estate for Jack to interact with

Jason tolerates her, not really interested

But Jack and the servant get along just fine, despite how he looks. She related to society treating her less than because of how she looked

Jason continued his toy making in peace

Until he saw how Jack and his new friend were getting along so well and became jealous

He didn’t understand why he cared. Maybe it was because Jack was his friend first?

Jason was always an extremely jealous person. Nothings changed

Maybe if he was magical like Jack, they could be friends again

So impulsive and jealous he went to Jack and demanded from him “Make me like you.”

“What?”

“I fixed you. Made you better. Do the same for me.”

“I don’t know how.”

“You do.”

Jason sliced open his own chest, knowing Jack could fulfill his request

Jack, not wanting him to die, shoves the box he was created in, into the open wound Jason created

Jason gained his powers from it

“Impulsive and jealous are we?”

“……”

Jason didn’t want to admit it, but he was extremely jealous that Jack was getting taken away from him and would do anything to keep him

Jacks ego was bigger than it had ever been knowing that and hanging around Jason and picking up parts of his personality didn’t help that

Jason stopped being human that day and didn’t regret it at all

He started making dolls out of humans because humans are beneath him

Starting with his wife

Jason is 6’4

He demands attention on him at all times

Are him and Jack boyfriends? Who knows?

Who cares?

They feed off each others attention and they love it

[perlelune]

could we get an update on coryo and reader in no body, no crime? like maybe during her pregnancy or after she gives birth?

Another painful smile is nudged onto your lips as you unwrap Clemensia’s gift. It’s all you’ve done the entire morning. Sit in the living room like a dutiful wife while pretending you don’t feel sick every time someone compliments you on how well pregnancy suits you or what a gorgeous couple the two of you are.

The baby shower is just another well-crafted punishment by him. Yet another way to flaunt his victory in your face. Remind you that you’re to be a prisoner and him the jailor for the rest of your life.

“That’s so thoughtful of you, Clemmie,” you chime wryly as you consider the music box. It portrays two lovers entwined, twirling whenever the golden key on the side is turned.

She beams at you.

“You’re welcome. I saw it and thought of you two and your beautiful love story.”

“Our beautiful love story…” you mumble, your fingers tightening to the point of pain around the woodens edges of the box. You grow dizzy. Clemensia continues cheerfully, unaware of your shift in mood, “You know Liv is boiling with rage right now. That’s why she didn’t come.” She giggles and bends over your shoulder to share, “She’s had her eye on Coriolanus since he came back walking and behaving all differently.”

“You’re the luckiest girl in all of Panem,” she elates, squeezing your hands in hers. 

A wave of queasiness overtakes you, even worse than your bouts of morning nausea.

You bolt to your feet, the well of pretense running dry within you.

“If you’ll excuse me. I’m not feeling too well…”

“But we haven’t cut the cake yet,” Clemensia pouts.

“You can do it without me,” you answer evasively as you waddle away from her. It’s all you can manage these days. Waddle around the penthouse like a duck with how swollen your belly is.

“Sweetie…” your mother hails you as you make your way up the stairs.

“I need to pee, Ma,” you icily reply. 

The smile dies on your mother’s face as you brush past her. Six months ago, this would have stirred your guilt. Not any longer. Your life is ruined and Ma welcomed the monster responsible into her arms like a son.

Your isolation to the bedroom upstairs is soon interrupted by your husband sneaking up behind you.

“Pregnancy looks good on you, princess,” he purrs as he wraps his arms around your midriff. His mouth grazes against your temple. “Everyone’s missing you at the party.”

“Well, I can only pretend this marriage isn’t a total farce for so long,” you reply, making no effort to conceal the visceral hate sizzling through you.

“Only because you’re being difficult,” Coriolanus points out softly, his large hands sweeping over your baby bump. “You don’t have to fight me at every step.”

You whirl abruptly. 

“You took everything from me,” you hiss, irate tears welling up in your eyes. “My future-”

He gives a derisive snort. “I gave you a future. You really thought you had one with this pathetic wastrel?”

Your head grows hot with the insult. He has no right to mention him.

Your gaze narrows. “Even lying in the ground, he is more man than you’ll ever be, Coriolanus Snow.”

His blue eyes flare dangerously. His fingers cinch around your wrists, a wicked grin breaking out on his face. Your bones grind against one another as pain pulses through your wrists.

“Is he now? Do you want me to show you how much of a man I am?”

Your heart bounces as your husband drags you against your will and shoves you on the bed.

“Don’t,” you say squirming underneath him. There’s a disquieting emptiness in his blue gaze as he removes his belt and loops it around your hands to bind you to the headboard. A tragically familiar chill settles in your bones when he pulls his pants down and frees his hard cock.

“Since you’re so concerned about it…” your husband grunts, piercing your dry folds with his thick tip. His hand over your mouth stifles the scream building in your throat. He sinks inside you and your entire body comes alight with pain. Coriolanus plants tender kisses alongside your neck as he begins to move. The mattress squeaks with each of his sharp, brutal thrusts. “I’ll show you exactly how man I am, princess.”

[f1-stuff]

VICTORIAN CHARLOS ROYALTY ABO you have sent me into chaotic overdrive with that sentence oh boy am I excited to read that!!!!!!!! Thank you to your brain as always

Hehe I'm glad you're excited!! So am I... 😏 which is why I'm going to share a bit of it now!!! 😝 (sometimes, I simply can't help myself)

For some exposition, Charles is the crown prince of Monaco and an omega, Carlos is the alpha son of a Spanish duke (but distantly in line for the throne, which also makes him a prince). Their meeting has been arranged by carlos' father & cousin and charles' uncle, which makes this a sort of arranged marriage AU, except that Charles still gets to choose his husband in the end. Charles is almost twenty-one, and he's looking forward to certain freedoms that will award him. All of this was inspired by The Young Victoria (2009).

Behold, a 1.8k-word snippet:

Charles’ eyes scan over the chess board, carefully considering his next move. He can feel the looks of the rest of their party burning into the side of his face. He glances sideways to confirm his suspicions, and notes several people averting their eyes in a hurry.

When he looks back to Carlos, the other man is giving him a conspiratorial smile. Charles sighs, his lips curving up at the edges as he settles on moving his rook.

Ever since their walk earlier that afternoon, Charles’ feelings have...softened slightly toward the Spaniard. He much prefers when the man isn’t feeding him answers that he believes Charles will like, and luckily, it seems they’ve mostly done away with that nonsense now. There’s no doubt that Carlos is...handsome. Or that his scent seems designed to tempt Charles. But he’s smart enough to know that Carlos has his own motivations for being here, and that it would benefit him and his family very much indeed if they were to wed. Charles has no intention of finding a mate yet, not when his freedom is so close at hand.

As Carlos decides on his next move, Charles’ face begins to burn once again from the others’ returned stares. His jaw clenches.

“Do you ever feel like a chess piece yourself? In a game being played against your will?” He doesn’t bother to lower his voice. It would likely be futile, not to mention that he would welcome his words having a shaming effect on their company. If only. 

Carlos’ curious gaze rises to meet his own. He takes a moment to respond, brows furrowing as he considers Charles’ words.

“I hadn’t thought of it. But I suppose so, yes.”

“I do, constantly,” he sighs. “I feel their eyes assessing me, their fingers moving me round the board.”

“Your parents?”

“Everyone. My uncle, brother, advisors, politicians... They’re all ready to seize hold of me and drag me from square to square.” He chuckles to lighten the tone, and Carlos’ lips make an effort to smile, but fall short. 

Carlos glances over at the others, before his attention returns to the board and he finally makes his move. “Then, you had better master the rules of the game until you play it better than they can.” 

His eyes meet Charles’, and they hold there, candlelight flickering within their depths in a hypnotizing pattern. It feels like it takes all of Charles’ willpower to peel his tongue from the roof of his mouth.

“You don’t recommend I find an alpha husband to play it for me?” he asks, raising a brow as his rook takes Carlos’ pawn.

“I should find one to play it with you, not for you.”

Charles feels delighted surprise drip down his spine as he considers Carlos’ words. He’s never really...thought about marriage like that. It had always seemed like another prison he would be forced into. But if he were to choose a mate and a husband as an equal, someone who would play with him, like Carlos suggests...

They continue playing for a moment in silence, as Charles decides how to respond, but he’s been thrown off slightly, Carlos proving once again to be unexpected.

“You know, my father wants me to marry King Torger’s nephew, George.” He sees the flicker of distaste that flashes across Carlos’ face, and has to bite his lip not to laugh.

“Hm,” Carlos grunts, picking up his bishop. “What’s he like at chess?” He knocks Charles’ pawn aside, then looks up and grins.

Charles stifles a laugh, glancing over at his family. His uncle and mother are smiling contentedly down at their laps, his mother with her embroidery and his uncle with his newspaper. Charles’ good mood dims slightly, realizing how easily he’s playing into their hands by enjoying Carlos’ company.

And yet he can’t help the affection and attraction that simmers within him when he looks back at Carlos and the scent of dewy grass and fresh oranges caresses his nose, so refreshing compared to the usual dusty stale air of the drawing room.

He wins their first game because Carlos underestimates him, like so many others. But Carlos requests a second match, and this time, manages to take the win. The excited buzz of a good challenge fills Charles with a restless energy that he hasn’t felt in years, and they play a third game, then a fourth, and a fifth. Eventually, as the others are beginning to nod off in their chairs, they decide to retire for the evening.

He’s just taken Andrea’s hand to begin his ascent up the stairs when his name is called out behind him, followed almost immediately by that damn scent. Charles looks over his shoulder at Carlos, who almost appears out of breath, like he’d rushed to catch up to him. They had already said goodnight in the drawing room, but perhaps he’d thought of something else to tell Charles.

“It’s alright, Andrea. Carlos can take me up.” 

Andrea’s eyebrow twitches slightly with displeasure, but he would never protest. He steps aside, Carlos taking his place.

“You’ll have to hold my hand,” Charles explains. “It is a ridiculous precaution, but Maman insists.”

“Of course,” Carlos says, bowing slightly.

He offers his hand to Charles, who takes it after the briefest of hesitations. It’s the first time their skin has touched, and Charles suppresses the shiver that rolls through him.

For a moment, they simply stand there, feet unmoving, as Carlos’ thumb settles gently over his knuckles. His hand is warm and large, his fingers slightly calloused, from riding or shooting perhaps. He holds onto Charles’ fingers just tight enough to reassure, but not so tight as to entrap him. It’s a delicate balance, and Charles wonders how he’s managed to find that sweet spot so gracefully.

With some effort, Charles forces his feet to move, and they begin their climb.

“Did you want to tell me something?” he asks.

“Ask you, actually. Your father - he didn’t join us tonight.”

“Yes. He is...his health is poor,” Charles says, pushing through the sadness and worry to give Carlos a polite smile. “We...do not know how much longer he has.”

“Ah.” Carlos swallows, and in his gaze, Charles sees the man’s love for his own father. His brown eyes dip at the outer edges in sympathy. “I am very sorry to hear that.”

“Thank you,” he mutters.

“I would have loved to meet him.”

The sentiment makes Charles smile for real. He isn’t certain what his father would think of Carlos, but so far, there hasn’t been much to object on.

They climb a few more steps in silence, and only when they’re about to reach the top does Carlos speak again.

“I wanted to say that I may not entirely understand what you are going through, or just how much of a pawn you are feeling...” They pause on the landing. “But I know a bit of what it’s like to be moved around like a chess piece in someone else’s game. And I know a bit of what it’s like to feel as though your life is not your own.”

Charles studies him. He seems sincere, but it’s hard to imagine this alpha knows an ounce of what Charles has been through.

“Does your mother also assign someone to guide you up and down the stairs?” he asks, brow arched teasingly. Carlos lets out an amused huff, glancing down at their still clasped hands.

“No, indeed I do not shoulder that particular charge. But I do know how duty and obligation to one’s family, one’s country, can eclipse even your sense of self.”

That strikes a chord within Charles, who has wasted hours and hours of his life wondering who he really is beyond an omega, a prince. If these things were stripped away, who is he underneath?

“And yet,” Carlos continues, before Charles can formulate a response. “I am finding my current duty to my country to be much more enjoyable than I had anticipated.” Smiles spread over both of their faces, and something giddy and dangerous alights deep in Charles’ stomach.

Do not fall for it, Charles.

“Did your father instruct you to use all your charms on me?”

“My cousin, actually,” Carlos admits, startling a laugh out of Charles for his honesty. “He also told me not to let your beauty distract me. Yet, I confess, I have never been so distracted in my life.”

Charles wants to roll his eyes at the transparent attempt to romance him, but all his lessons in etiquette restrain him. Instead, he presses his lips together to prevent a smile, not wanting to give Carlos the satisfaction. Unfortunately, Carlos is watching his expression closely enough that he notes Charles’ attempt and responds with a smug grin of his own.

For a moment, they stand suspended, hands still holding one another’s, both unwilling to let go. And to his slight shame, it is Carlos who ends the stalemate, bowing at the waist to barely graze his lips against the back of Charles’ hand, his breath warm and startling. Charles’ heart stutters, but he schools his expression as the other man straightens once again, releasing his hand.

“Goodnight, Monsieur.”

Charles is afraid to speak, worried his voice will betray just how overcome he is by the barest touch of lips on his skin - not even a kiss, really. Embarrassing.

So he simply nods, then turns and strides toward his rooms without looking back. It’s only when he’s almost through the door that he glances just one time over his shoulder to see Carlos descending the stairs. 

He doesn’t wait around long enough to see if the other man looks back.

His attendant helps him undress while Andrea readies his bed. Charles brushes a thumb over the back of his hand, feeling the ghost of lips there.

“Will my lord miss the prince and princesses when they’re gone?” his attendant asks.

“Don’t be impertinent,” Andrea admonishes. Charles just smiles to himself as he undoes his necktie. “That young man pesters you.”

“Please, Andrea,” Charles sighs, shouldering off his waistcoat. “After all this time, you really think I’m going to walk straight into another jail?”

He’s taking off his shoes when Andrea eventually responds. “You must marry one day.”

“Well, I don’t see why I must,” he says, shaking his head. “But if I do, it shall be to please myself, and no one else - not Maman or Uncle or my father.”

So what if he never has children. There will always be another heir somewhere. Sure, it would be dangerous to remain an unmated omega. But if anyone could do it and survive, Charles thinks a sovereign prince, with more protection than anyone else in the country, could succeed.

He’s not marrying anyone just yet. Not even the charming Spaniard with the kind eyes.

[visenyaism]

what do you think alicent & criston's relationship is from alicent's point of view? and why did she hire him after ep 5 if she's kinda obviously against murder?

so episode five is one of alicent’s lowest points: no real friends in court, evil all-powerful father exiled to oldtown, husband doesn’t give a fuck about her other than using her body when he wants, and then also she finds out the ONE point of solace she was going to have, that Rhaenyra was going to be equally as miserable as her in her own marriage so at least they’d suffer together, isn’t even happening because Rhaenyra fucked a hot knight and then lied to Alicent’s face about it and used it to get Otto removed from court.

and then Criston shows up and puts his entire life in Alicent’s hands because he is that devoted to following the Arbitrary Society Rules that Alicent’s mind prison is made up of. She’s never really had that kind of power over anyone before. And even when he snaps and beats a man to death with his bare hands at Rhaenyra’s wedding it’s because of his deep sense of shame about losing his honor because of those rules. Criston tries to kill himself to maintain his construction of his own honor, Alicent offers him a way out.

After that, I think the core of their relationship is that Alicent DID find someone to suffer alongside with in the confines of devotion to extreme societal duty, but instead of Rhaenyra, it’s Criston as the One True Chivalric Honor Knight and Alicent as the One True Dutiful Queen. Criston is the ONLY person in her life who is willing to acknowledge out loud that Rhaenyra is breaking the rules, and you can’t break the rules because if you could break them this entire time why has Alincent had to ruin her entire life over and over again to follow the rules? Everyone else was telling her she was literally insane for years for pointing out that Rhaenyra’s kids aren’t Laenor’s or for trying to say that it was unfair that the King cared more about her than he did Alicent’s children. Their codependency was built on shared resentment of AND devotion to these rules and it is soooo insane and very fascinating. i hope they stay miserable together forever

[vigilskeep]

sorry if this is an insane question, it's something i've been wondering about and you are the dragon age lore understander in my mind: ...is there canonical information about divorces (or annulments) in thedas? like, in dao you can find out that eamon suggested cailan 'put anora aside' but that's very vague about logistics. it's probably just something bioware doesn't care about but it haunts me. if cailan had tried to divorce anora and marry celene to create an orlais-fereldan alliance and the divine hadn't approved could thedas have had its own anglican church situation

[the below answer should be read with the visual of me with a white-knuckled grip of frustration leaving indents on steel]

there is NO lore and it drives me INSANE !!!

david gaider, on a random forum discussion post, said “there is annulment. there is no concept of ‘divorce’”. this along with the discussion of cailan setting anora aside is as far as i know all we have

so ‘annulment but no divorce’ is presumably drawing from andrastianism’s catholic inspirations. which basically means that divorce isn’t a thing but a marriage can be declared “null” if you can come up with a reason it was never valid from the start. to go for the henry viii example, he tried to have his marriage to catherine of aragon annulled on the grounds that she had married his late brother first, and he’d suddenly and conveniently realised this meant their marriage had never been okay. the pope refused, because a) a pope had already given henry and catherine permission to marry despite those circumstances meaning the marriage was literally fine and popes aren’t supposed to take that kind of thing back and b) also as an aside, for separate reasons the pope had had his city sacked and been taken prisoner by catherine’s nephew the holy roman emperor like five minutes ago, and so had reasonable fears for his health if he said yes

(sorry if any of the above historical info is slightly off it’s been a while but that’s pretty much the gist)

i have... absolutely no idea on what grounds you could annul cailan’s marriage to anora. but we really have no data on what the chantry considers grounds. could her supposed infertility be enough? it’s impossible to say. maybe eamon was working on some argument, it’s clear he’s been pushing for this for years

that said, if cailan himself was moving to marry celene, he’d have a much better shot at getting that annulment, if only because what’s the divine going to do, not grant an annulment to the guy the orlesian empress wants to marry? this is where anora not having any useful emperor nephews really lets her down. her father could certainly raise hell in ferelden, but they have zero reach in orlais

(as an aside, all this is something i’ve thought about for one of my absolute favourite dragon age timelines, sebhawke divorce. tell me inquisition wouldn’t be improved by starkhaven desperately trying to get an annulment meanwhile the divine is fucking exploded. you can’t.)

[shinyhoundhandseagle]

The Emerald of the Season

Relationships: Eloise Bridgerton/Male Character

Word Count:

Warning: No

Part 3/?

Part 1: https://www.tumblr.com/shinyhoundhandseagle/754373682092277760/the-emerald-of-the-season

Part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/shinyhoundhandseagle/754292327975092224/the-emerald-of-the-season

part 4: https://www.tumblr.com/shinyhoundhandseagle/756221333910765569/the-emerald-of-the-season

• • •

The next ball was scheduled for tomorrow night and the Bridgerton house was a mess. Violet was running around, trying to get her kids ready while Benedict hid from his mother, Francesca worried about this being her first season and Eloise ignored her attempts to get her ready while sitting on the couch reading a book.

“Eloise are you excited about tomorrow?”

She opened her mouth to tell her mother that marriage was a prison and that she would rather die when one of the servants came through the door with a package on his hands.

“What is this?”- Violet took the package from his hands and put it on the table. It felt heavy but the package was nice and there was a note-. “There’s a note!”

‘Dear Eloise,

I don’t have to read minds to know you are not the jewelry kind of girl but I wish this entertains your mind.

Hope you enjoy,

Sebastian’

“What did he send you?!”- Hyacinth squeaked out as Eloise stood up and walked up to her mother. Her heart was racing as she got to the package and grabbed the note from her mother’s hand.

“The Prince send you a gift! You know what this mean?”- Violet was over the moon. Her first daughter married a duke and now it was possible that her second daughter married a Prince?- “He might court you this season!”

Eloise was too concerned in opening the package to listen to her mother. Once she did, she saw 3 different books. Two about medicine and one about agriculture.

“Books?”- Hyacinth looked confused and kind if disappointed-. “Why couldn’t he send you a crown or something like that?”

“This is so much better”-. Said Eloise quickly grabbing her new books. She was so excited about new and shiny books, especially books about medicine-. “I’m going to start reading them”.

“Maybe you will be a princess or a Queen!”

“Shut up Hyacinth!”

“Eloise, don’t speak to your sister like that!”

“I’m sorry”.

• • •

“How do I look Marcel?”

“Since when do you care about looking good for the balls my Prince?”

“I love when you’re funny, doesn’t happen very often”-. He looked at his servant, and if we’re being honest his best friend, with a smirk.

“It’s an actual question My Prince”-. Marcel rolled his eyes while helping his Prince by fixing his clothes-. “I have never seen you excited about a ball before. Is this because of a certain Lady Bridgerton?”

“Do you think she liked my gift?”- His smile said everything, it was definitely thanks to Eloise.

“I will take that as a yes”-. He felt happy that his Prince was finally interested on someone-. “She seems kind and a little opinionated”.

“I know, isn’t that wonderful?”- It was, definitely wonderful. She was smart and beautiful-. “She seems amazing”.

“You do look good, my Prince”.

• • •

The start of the ball was boring. Men looking for young women to marry and a lot of gossip. Not really the way Eloise wanted to spend her evening. Anthony was watching after Francesca while Violet stayed with Eloise.

“Lady Bridgerton”-. A man with brown eyes and hair came made his way to Violet and Eloise with a cocky smile-. “Philip Crane”.

“Very nice to meet you Lord Crane”-. Violet smiled at him and then looked at Eloise-. “This is my daughter Eloise”.

“Nice to meet you my Lady. Would you allow me this dance?”

“She will be delighted”-. Violet gave Eloise a stern look to then move to the side, allowing Philip to take her hand and move to the dance floor.

“You look beautiful this evening Ms Eloise”-. His charm flew over Eloise’s head as they moved through the dance floor. She wasn’t interested in him at all-. “I’ve been watching you for quite sometime, you’ve always been a beautiful woman”.

“I appreciate that Lord Philip but I’m not really interested in marriage if that’s what believe”-. Her bluntness made his expression harden and his eyes filled with condescension.

“That’s nonsense, every woman wants to marry”.

Eloise eyes almost fell out of her head in disbelief. How dare him try and tell her what she wants or should want?

“How could you believe a women’s only desire is to server a husband?”

“I don’t only think it’s a desire but a privilege”-. She let go of his hand and took a step back, her blood was boiling-. “The song is not over my Lady”.

“But this dance is”-. She walked away from him and back to her mother. Violet didn’t look angry but she was definitely worried-. “Don’t ever send me with a man like that again”.

“What happened?”- Her mouth opened to complain about Lord Philip when she was interrupted by another voice.

“Eloise!”- Sebastian and Marcel had made their way to them with the typical smile on his face and two glasses of punch on his hands.

“Sebastian!”- She couldn’t deny the relief and happiness on her voice when he got there. Violet also seem more at ease, specially thanks to how happy her daughter sounded.

“My Prince”.

“Lady Bridgerton”-. He offered both of them the glasses which they took-. “You really don’t have to address me like that, Sebastian will do”.

“My manners couldn’t allow that”.

“Wow, your mother has really good manners so… what happened to you?”- His teasing tone and wink to Eloise wasn’t missed by Violet.

“Would you rather me married and silent?”

“I definitely wouldn’t want that”-. He laughed to then offer his hand to her-. “Would I be allowed a dance?”

This time instead of answering for her, Violet looked at her daughter with a soft, encouraging smile. Eloise took his hand, chug the punch and gave the glass to her mother.

“Let’s go, don’t get angry if I step on your feet”.

“If that’s the price to pay, I can deal with that”.

This dance was nice, Sebastian took the lead and she just had to move with him. It was quiet for a couple seconds as Eloise saw Lord Crane watching over them like a vulture.

“Did you like the books?”

“I did, it was very thoughtful”-. She stopped looking around and focus her eyes on him-. “You didn’t have to”.

“But I wanted to…”- He looked in deep thought, trying to find the words to explain himself-. “I know your views for marriage but…”

“Well spit it out”-. Her laughed calmed him down a bit-. “You told me that politeness didn’t suit me, well beating around the bush doesn’t suit you”.

“What if I courted you?”- The words came out of his mouth quickly, like they were burning the inside if his mouth-. “I know you do not wish a marriage where you’re seen as less or to give birth to multiple heirs and I don’t want that either”.

“Oh”-. Her stomach felt like turning, like a bunch of bees were nesting on it. Her hand felt like burning as she grabbed his and the rest of her felt like tingling-. “I’m not really the definition of a Lady, specially not a Princess or a Queen”.

“I want an equal, someone that I couldn’t rule but someone that could rule WITH me. A strong partner that could tell me when I’m wrong and give me their input on how to be better”-. He looked at her, waiting for her rejection-. “I would encourage you to study and be more than happy with you being your own person outside of us”.

The last notes of the song ended and from the corner of his eye he saw more men waiting for their turn to ask her for a dance now that she seem so desirable to them but on a selfish act he decided to keep dancing with her as the next song started.

“I’m not asking you to marry me but to give me a chance”.

“I… I would need to think about it”.

“Of course, take all the time you need my lady”.

• • •

After the second song he had to let her go as she needed to dance with some other pretenders. While she did that Marcel and Sebastian walked around the ballroom, engaging in small talk with a few ladies.

“You don’t seem happy Your Highness”-. Marcel commented from behind him as they went outside to get some fresh air-. “You seem rather sad”.

“Why must you always be over my shoulder?”

“It’s my duty”.

“Your duty to my father or me?”- He turned around, looking at Marcel’s face. The servant looked surprised at the outburst, it wasn’t normal for his Prince to snap at him or anyone if we’re being honest. Unless…

“Has Lady Eloise rejected your advances?”

“She said she would think about it but…”- Marcel patted his shoulder on clear solidarity and that seem to do the trick-. “I’m sorry, it’s not your fault”.

“All is good Your Highness, I understand”.

Sebastian pressed his back against the wall, feeling uneasy. His ears were ringing, heart pounding, shoulders tense as he started to feel disconnected of his surroundings. He wasn’t use to social events like balls, they always made him feel nervous.

“Your Highness?”

“I’m good Marcel, just nervous”.

“I will go and ready the carriage”-. The servant knew his Prince better than anyone else, he couldn’t take it for much longer.

Once he was alone, Sebastian decided to sit on the ground and focus in the quiet. Silence was nice but it definitely wasn’t the cure for everything that was wrong with him. No, the only cure for that was the sweet relief of death.

“Sebastian?”- He raised his head to find some beautiful blue eyes. Eloise seem worried and nervous about him as she sat next to him-. “Are you feeling ill?”

“Just nervous. Why are you outside my Lady?”

“I’ve been looking for you”-. He wasn’t going to lie, that sentence made his heart skip a beat-. “I have been thinking about your proposal and I would like for you to court me”.

“You don’t have to say yes, if you don’t want it I would understand”-. That seem to calm her nerves.

“I know but I want you to, if that’s still your plan”.

“I would like that a lot too Eloise”.

[tavsianus]

Fic Ideas

Snames: James keep thinking about Severus after Hogwarts and regrets everything. So when he sees the other guy in Diagon Alley he wants to talk to him, he never thought it would be so hard to keep himself away from someone.

Sniddle: One day Severus finds a black notebook placed in his dorm bed and things just gets stranger. Someone replies to him whenever he writes down and he slowly falls in love with this mysterious person.

Snarcissia: Narcissa, who has made a political marriage, is not at all satisfied with her relationship with Lucius. After a while, she meets Snape, a working-class man, and falls in love with him.

Snirius/Snames:  Severus goes to a blind date (by force) and meets with a man. He is cocky, arrogant and annoying and Severus wants nothing more to just leave. (Sirius/James on the other hand is planning a second date.)

Snames: Severus works at a library and the same person comes to get a new book everday. It is clear that he isn’t reading it at all because no way someone can read to whole The Hunchback of Notre Dame in one day.

Snirius: Severus becomes a penpal with a criminal, Sirius Black. Everything is fine until Black is released from prison. 

Snupin:  Severus has germophobia (OCD) and decides to go to a therapist.

Snames: James falls in love with a melancholic ghost that lives in his house.

Snames/Snirius: Sirius Black is adored by everyone, everyone except one person. Severus Snape. And he was pretty sure if he did try, even the greasy git would fall for his charm eventually.So, how far was he willing to go to win a bet?

Snupin: Its Care of Magical Creatures class. Suprisingly, animals love Snape and he loves them. Hagrid(or whoever the teacher is) brings a unicorn and doesn’t let anyone aproach. Sev tries it and the Unicorn let him. Everyone is shocked. Remus is very interested in him after this. Because, maybe he can also approach his wolf and can calm him so he doesn’t get so much hurt?

Snirius: After Sirius uses a dark spell to stop his magic as a ‘prank’ Severus has to stay with the Blacks until they find a way to solve this problem (The ministry forces them, if not Sirius’ll get punished.)

Severus has to stay at a dorm and to his shock, he has to stay with three jocks -James,Sirius,Remus. He is not happy about it.

Severus shares a apartment with Sirius/James. He isn’t exactly friends with this guy but hey, he is rich and he isn’t going to complain. 

• Coffee Shop AU. Severus just wanted to get some coffee but the damn barista was more interested in annoying him then doing his job, goddamnit. (Snack/Snames)

Severus  lives in a shitty town and works at just as shitty work. But one day when a Mafia group decides to claim their town things just gets worse. (Marauders/Snape)

(Snupin) Severus gets a new apartment for college. But what is that? There’s a ghost living there! Well, he isn’t going to leave, the rent is really cheap so he has to learn to live with him.

[bullet-prooflove]

Send me a made-up fic title and I'll tell you what I would write to go with it

No offense, but the idea that you're not good enough for someone like me is really fucking stupid

Connor Rhodes – breaks your fucking heart with this shit. Always has his dad’s voice in the back of his head, telling him he’s not good enough, that he’s not worth anything. You come home one night and he tries to tell you it’s not working, you ask where it’s all coming from and discover his dad made an appearance today and you know it turns his world upside down. You spend the whole night, holding him and telling him how perfect he is for someone like you.

Alden Parker – comes in the form of wedding jitters. You have a panic attack just before the wedding, as in thirty minutes before, clad in the dress and everything. Alden who has pre-empted this because he remembers the nightmare that was your first marriage talks you through it. Holds your hands in his and tells you that whatever you want to do he’s there for you and it’s ridiculous that you think you’re not good enough for him.

Mitch Ripley – you go through this whenever he has a low spell, usually during his S.A.D episodes in Winter. He thinks he’s not good enough for you, that you can do better, you deserve someone that isn’t a mess. Those are the nights, you cradle his face in your hands and tell him you love him, you will always love him and it’s not about being good enough, it’s about taking care of one another.

Trey Cahill – happens when he hears about you not being considered for a promotion because of your relationship with him. He’s on the way out after dropping off your go bag when he overhears it. It devastates him that he’s compromising your opportunities so he breaks it off and ghosts you. When you turn up at his place he tries to be mean, to run you off but you won’t have it. He ends up explaining it to you and you end up telling him it doesn’t matter, he’s what matters because he’s the man that makes you happy.

Bode Leone – his status as a prisoner and all the shit he’s been through has really eroded his self-worth. After your first kiss he tries to tell you he has nothing to offer you, that you should move on with someone who can spent time with you, someone that’s good enough for you. You remind him of how far he’s come, that he has a future, one with you if he just gets out of his own way.

I could do more but I am getting super tired so I'm calling it a night!

[miseryylane]

the forehead kiss scene is so obviously homoerotic but i feel like the tomgregs don’t talk enough the “wrestle me to the ground” scene. because there is NO explanation for that.

like yes, we know that tom is upset with greg because he’ll be leaving for parks and he won’t going to prison. you could read more deeply into that, but set it aside for a moment. tldr; our pathetic meow meow, tom wambs, has offered to go to prison for logan and he’s regretting it.

i believe the nero/sporus comparison is homoerotic enough on its own –– but one could play devil’s advocate and say that tom only wants companionship from greg because shiv has been offering him little to none. and because of the prison ordeal, he’s in desperate need of both companionship + emotional support. it’s been established that he projects the failures of his marriage onto greg, so –– fair enough? push your wife down the stairs, castrate your assistant. cool.

+ in a deeper sense, the nero/sporus metaphor is seemingly tied to tom’s feelings of emasculation. it’s no surprise that tom says this hours after he challenges shiv’s dominance in their relationship and loses ... miserably.

correct me if i’m wrong, but sexual practices in ancient rome were based on activity and passivity –– aka, masculine dominance and feminine submissiveness. (citing my classics prof for this, lmao.) from what i’ve gleaned, this dichotomy is what defined social views on homosexuality in ancient rome.

it would make sense for tom to read this story of an ancient roman emperor and be reminded of his desire to be more dominant/masculine in his relationships.

summarily, if he can’t be dominant in his relationship with shiv, he can be dominant in his relationship with greg. it’s an unromantic perspective, but ... oh well. succ isn’t too romantic to begin with. it would also be a way for tom to (unhealthily) reconcile with his romantic feelings toward greg. ie., sure, i’m attracted to him, but that doesn’t make me any less masculine. just think of nero the emperor!

it seems to me that tom wants to be seen as a masculine man. (as a matter of fact, he makes mention of his masculinity in the scene above.) which is understandable, given that his relationship with siobhan is depicted as very unequal. so yeah –– it could be written off as standard feelings of emasculation coming from a man, but honestly?

i’d argue that due to a lifetime of repression, internalized homophobia & some preconceived notions, tom believes that his homosexual desires make him less masculine. i believe it stems from his repressed homosexuality. like –– why else would he be so desperate to appear masculine, despite ... not being very masculine by nature.

(he may have even sought out this story in particular so that he could feel better about having these romantic desires for a man to begin with ...)

so that explains the nero/sporus reference.

but when tom says “wrestle me to the ground”, what is he asking for? as in, that is a genuine question. maybe i’m just tomgreg-pilled, but it really does seem like:

tom is just so desperate to know greg’s touch that he’s willing to wrestle him, like the nude men who fought in bygone stadiums. (something which conveniently relates to that book about the romans that tom mentions.)

he’ll never know his touch as a lover, tom tells himself –– so he’ll have to settle for this. after all, he’s being sent to prison and greg is all set for his new career in parks, where he’ll no doubt forget all about him. it’s now or never.

it’s an act of desperation.

and greg says no, understandably –– but tom persists. he’s worked himself up, fists raised, pushing greg up against a wall. a force of anger and repression. as usual, he’s just too much. he’s self-destructing. at last, greg stands up for himself tells tom to stop, which he does. it’s then the humiliation sets in. he’s humiliated himself.

and THIS –– this is when it comes full circle.

tom feels stupid and embarrassed, so he tries to make greg feel doubly stupid and embarrassed by mocking him. it’s a see-through attempt at saving face. downright childish.

he then looks spurned and troubled for a few moments before he shouts, “neither do i, greg! it was a JOKE, you idiot!” when it ... obviously wasn’t.

he’s the picture of someone who’s been rejected and can’t seem to take it: hurt and defensive.

it’s strange, no? tom bullies greg all the damn time and he’s never once thought to make excuses about it. he doesn’t feel an ounce of shame when he calls greg a coke whore in front of kendall. but this time –– this time he feels embarrassed.

and i immediately think back to their first conversation. the infamous “would you kiss me? if i asked you to?” because ... tom said that was a joke, too. maybe it wasn’t.

ALL I’M SAYING IS THAT I LOVE THIS SCENE. matthew and nicholas are goddamn phenomenal and i really hope season 4 brings us some closure in regards to the psychosexual power struggle that is tomgreg. ahhhh!

[button-cat]

uhggh I just wanna get this off my chest abt pressure

ever since the new update, the games been less enjoyable for me. Not just bc of the zerum drama, but also the painter. The autoturrets are quite difficult for someone who’s played doors and pressure since release

and then there’s Sebastian. Idk but the ring left a bad taste on my tongue bc pressure isn’t abt romance. Plus it doesn’t help that both zerum and simps have been whining abt the “marriage” constantly

I just miss when pressure was a fish doors game and there wasn’t this much shit surrounding a new fandom

Yeah i honestly do quite understand you- I didn't really know about Pressure before until the collab between Pressure and Regretevator which got me interested in the game but i do understand how upsetting it is when something like a game, show, etc you enjoy ends up getting a lot of controversy around it- i have experienced it many times before :(

I haven't played the new update yet (being busy with school and plus- i prefer to play on the days that I don't have school- :b) however i have seen it through videos and- for me the autoturrets seem pretty complicated to get through, (this is coming from someone who has beaten doors as well as other games that are hard-) plus i have seen a video where somehow the autoturrets managed to get rid a bunch of health to someone despite them hiding which- uh i don't think that's quite fair- ;D i know pressure is supposed to be a hard game but- from what i've seen, I don't really like the autoturrets either- :b

I have seen many people upset with the change to painter- personally, i like both versions of painter (the old and new one- :D) but I do understand why people are upset about it- the old one I can't really explain well but it definitely had some sort of charm to it that the new version doesn't quite have- but I do see why the devs wanted to change painter :D

And about the marriage thing- yeah I don't feel like the ring really quite fits- don't get me wrong it does look nice on Sebastian but I personally don't think it quite fits in like Sebastian's lore- as someone who absolutely loves reading the lore of characters, I personally don't like it when things end up contradicting each other in it- like i'm pretty sure when you get sent to prison they take everything but i MEAN EVERYTHING you have on you, even rings- and even if Sebastian was able to keep the ring in prison, I definitely doubt Urbanshade would let him keep it after- and also,,,the fact that he also um- grew a lot. I don't think the ring is gonna fit on him anymore- ;D this may be silly to some people for me to get upset about something like this but- idk i just genuinely don't like when things in lore just,,, doesn't make sense- this is just my opinion tho !

honestly i also find it quite ridiculous how much people as well as Zerum have been making the marriage thing such a huge deal- the way how some people get genuinely pissed about it is something that I find quite concerning but how Zerum acts about it is also something that I find pretty strange and iffy and maybe kinda,,,immature- some of her comments i did see it kinda condescending and just- not really an appropriate way to like- react, y'know? It actually concerns me honestly- :/

I just feel like many of these things, especially the controversy, could've been handled better- from what i'm seeing, it does seem Zeal is trying to improve himself as well as the game by recognizing things he's been doing wrong so- i do have some hope that things end up getting better in the end !! I really like Pressure and I wanna see it improve and continue growing since it's a pretty good game !! ^^ i do wanna make some posts about Pressure (i did plan making a post about Sebastian where i just put show some of my headcanons about him with some drawings :3) and just- have fun with posting about the game without so many controversy surrounding it- :b

also, if its really affecting you- I do recommend to not focus on the controversy and also maybe like- not interact with the community- like maybe take a break from it !! as someone who used to like- get involved with controversies in the past, it can be pretty unhealthy- in the end, focusing on all of the dramas and controversies in the internet and getting involved in it as well can end up just- stressing you out and maybe even just your mental health get worse- which is why i recommend to just sometimes distance yourself from the community and game if it gets too bad- and do things you enjoy doing ! I may not really know you anon but- please remember that your mental health is more important, okay? :D (this also goes to the rest of you !! Your mental health is more important- please take care of yourself !!)

that's mostly all i wanted to say- sorry for the very long response btw ;D im a very huge yapper sometimes even if i try to avoid being one lol-

[dear-mrs-otome]

Silvio Ricci - Engagement Event - Another Terrible Summary

(Silvio: "W-what the?")

Standard Disclaimer: I do this for fun. I don’t, and never would, claim to be proficient at JP. There will be mistakes herein. There will be dialogue I choose to smooth out or change, because it feels choppy just straight translating. There will be the occasional snarky aside and irreverence and just plain summarizing. If you’re looking for 100% pure accuracy, without commentary or localizing, this is not for you. If you don’t mind that…then proceed, and I hope you enjoy! And please, support your local localizer (they make this stuff look easy) and Cybird by playing the games and routes when they come to English.

Things to know before this (THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR SILVIO’S MAIN STORY):

It follows the romantic (or ‘canon’) ending to Silvio’s route, which means that he and Emma are already engaged seeing as how they were at the end of his route. It also references the circumstances surrounding that - how Emma posed as a disgraced noblewoman and rescued Silvio from his father and prison by demanding Silvio take responsibility for ‘debauching’ and rescue her honor via marriage. Silvio has also been officially named the king’s successor, and will be the next king of Benitoite when his fathers steps down. It also references the epilogue where Emma works herself ill, and how horrible of a person Silvio's mother was.

~~~~~~~~

The Jewel of the Ocean has been passed to Silvio - recently the news of this has begun to make the rounds through Benitoite, and the topic seems to be on everyone’s lips. The merchants especially are thrilled with this…but that’s not the only tea everyone’s spilling.

We open on a couple of merchants chattering away down by the docks about the approaching engagement ceremony for Prince Silvio where everything is made Official, and the two men are talking about the lucky lady in question. They say how rumors have it she’s a beautiful woman, on par with any national treasure - gifted too, and having had studied at Rhodolite’s court. She’s kind and dang near a saint.

One of them mentions too how he heard how crazy in love with her Silvio was, and how anytime the prince opens his mouth it’s to say something about her, and the other seems impressed and says how much he’s looking forward to the ceremony.

As they pass by and on their way, a figure darts into a nearby alley as if to make an escape…and we find Emma crouching down there, groaning about a stomachache and freaking out in her thoughts over why the heck everyone seems to think she’s some sort of PARAGON.

Silvio’s there, hand on her back and asking if she’s alright, and she confesses she might not be alright. Didn’t he hear all that?? Whose girlfriend are they talking about, this PARAGON OF BEAUTY AND GRACE AND TALENTS, this SAINTLY WOMAN.

Silvio says they’re talking about her, obviously, and Emma says is that really how I seem?!

She’s freaking out, clearly. She’d been super excited to come out on the town with Silvio when he’d asked, their first actual date in awhile, but she’d been totally unprepared for the rumors that are apparently going around about them. 

“Doesn’t seem off to me,” Silvio says, matter of factly, and Emma’s over there like PRESS X TO DOUBT. Asking him how that’s so.

He kind of hems and haws a bit, awkward silence and he can’t look her in the eyes as he says she’s beautiful, and plenty capable, and other than being the whole being a bit sassy thing she’s got a pretty decent personality.

Emma’ stunned at actual legit compliments from Silvio, still processing as he points out that it’s better than them gossiping about things that aren’t true or are nasty isn’t it?

“But what about when I’m presented at the engagement ceremony and everyone’s got this sky-high expectations…” she frets. “Everyone will be disappointed when I don’t measure up, and they might say ‘She’s not good enough for Prince Silvio.’”

Of course she’s been giving it her all, ever since they decided to formally announce the engagement alongside the formal declaration of Silvio as the king’s successor. She’s been working her ass off from morning to night studying etiquette and everything else she might need to know as a princess, alongside getting her wardrobe ready and planning the details of the ceremony and the reception party…she’s exhausted, mentally and physically. But even so she wants to be woman worthy of Silvio, the next king.

She tackles him practically with a hug, setting Silvio spluttering and redfaced and reminding her for the umpteenth time she’s supposed to warn him before she does something like that - to which Emma rebuts that if she warns him he still sometimes tries to escape, so it’s best to surprise him. 

Burying her face in those hella nice-smelling man tiddies, Emma takes a deep breath of Silvio-scent and is reenergized. 

“Where’s your usual sass?” he asks. “Don’t let something like this intimidate you.” He tells her that if everyone’s saying good things about her, all she’s gotta do is be confident and stand tall. But he also chastizes her for being too stubborn and reminds her she doesn’t have to go so dang hard on all this.

“No, no,” Emma argues, saying that if she doesn’t work hard now when will she work hard?

“Not your whole life long,” Silvio counters. “I didn’t bring you here from Rhodolite to make you work yourself like a madwoman. I already told you what the gist of your most important job was, didn’t I?”

His words are a reminder of that day on the beach (at the end of his Romantic route) where he had told her what her most important duty was, as the woman of the next king: to dedicate all that she was to him, and in return he’d love her till she couldn’t stand it. 

She's fluent enough in Silvio-ese to see those imperious words for what they really meant - he wants the kind of relationship where he can love and be loved in equal measure. And she realizes she must seem pretty exhausted if Silvio is worrying about her this much. He's bossy as all getup…but he's hella overprotective.

She lifts her head and there's those sea-blue eyes right in front of her - along with a suspicious Silvio. Who has right to be because she surprise kisses him. He's left wide eyed and surprised as she tells him she was thinking how she loves him.

He points out that came from left field and she’s just shrug - and then Silvio has his revenge by taking her chin in hand and laying a passionate kiss on her that has her scandalized. They’re still in public technically and all! He laughs at her hnnng face and she’s silently fuming over how only a few seconds ago it was him all embarrassed and now he’s Mr. Cocky, pouting as she looks away and he tousles her hair.

“Anyway, you get what I’m sayin’?” he asks. 

She asks if he’s referring to her trying too hard, and he confirms - only to get angry again when she says she’ll accept his sentiment at least but she’s gotta be able to stand proudly beside him if he’s going to love her, and although he might worry about her she asks him to please let her do her best for now. 

He’s glowering silently, and she tells him he’s got his scary face on.

He says it’s probably because she’s totally missing the point of what he’s trying to say, and she fires back that he’s too overprotective. 

“Shaddup,” he scowls. 

“But I love that about you too!” she declares, and he turns red and tells her not to get carried away. Clearly not disliking her claim - he’s just obviously embarrassed by it.

The whole situation might be literally making her feel ill, but she’s not about to back down from this challenge. If she’s gonna share a life with Silvio, she’s got to be able to handle something like this.

~~~~~~~~

The next day, Rio stops her in the hallway and asks if she’s doing alright. He’s gotten his memory back now and works as Silvio’s aide, but still never hesitates to show concern for her as well just as he always has. 

He asks if she has a fever, and she’s dklsjfds HOW DID HE KNOW?? She had woken up that morning lethargic and unwell, but it’s nothing major - more like the bit of fever she’d come down with when she’d overworked herself when first coming to Benitoite. 

She assures Rio she’s fine it’s nbd, but he’s not happy with that answer,worried it might get worse and urging her to take a day off or so - before he cuts himself off and realizes she can’t.

A fact she confirms, because she’s supposed to be hosting a party today to meet and greet many of the young noblewomen of the country before the engagement ceremony. It’s hella important for her to lay the groundwork of future relationships here, and to help her make friends and ease into Benitoite society better. So even if she has to push herself, she’s gotta make it through today at least. 

“Rio, pleeeeaaase. Don’t say a word to Silvio,” she begs him.

“...If he finds out, he’ll lock you up for sure,” Rio agrees with chagrin. He’s clearly not thrilled with her request, but she knows he can’t deny her, and reluctantly he agrees to keep mum on this - but he tells her he’ll have medicine ready, and reminds her if she gets any worse to cancel things, consequences be damned. He and Silvio can more than handle the fallout, and it won’t reflect badly on her. 

She thank him, glad that it was Rio who noticed she was sick. If it had been Silvio, she’s positive things wouldn’t have gone this smoothly…and she vows to herself to be sure to avoid him at all costs today. 

~~~~~~~~

…Only for us to open the next scene aboard a ship, with a silently staring Silvio, and an oh shit Emma.

Given that she’s to be royalty, and given the traditions of Benitoite amongst the elite to throw parties not at mansions but on board ships, she’d asked Silvio to arrange one to host her party on. This particular vessel is one of Silvio’s own, and it wouldn’t be strange to see the owner aboard - if it had been a day without business meetings or other things on his agenda.

Why is he here?!?!

She’d been making the rounds, greeting all the ladies aboard before the ship was set to depart, when the tyrant himself had appeared all of a sudden and grabbed her by the hand. “Let’s go.”

She vehemently protests this idea, and he scowls over the fact that she can put up such an argument when she’s feverish - which has her now wondering how the eff does he know about her being sick?! No wait, more importantly, she KNOWS he’s got a packed schedule today!

She’s digging in her heels just as hard as he’s trying to drag her off, insisting all the while that he’s just imagining things.

“If you think I’m gonna buy that, you must have a flower garden for a brain,” he fires back. (Hello Motonari?)

“Flower garden or whatever, read the room!” she scolds him, At first, most people didn’t seem to know what to make of her as the next king’s fiancée…and now they’re all just looking on this scene in shock. The whole party is ruined!

He scoffs at the need to do anything of the sort, and as she keeps trying to resist he finally just picks her up and goes to make off with her.

“Knock it off,” Rio sighs. “Can’t you see she’s not having any of this?”

Now Emma’s stunned, realizing Rio is there too and blocking Silvio’s path, shaking his head. Silvio says he doesn’t give a shit if she doesn’t like it, and Rio reminds him he should and urges him to put Emma down. 

“If I put her down, she’ll run away,” Silvio counters. 

“If you know she’s gonna run away, then you clearly know you shouldn’t be forcing her,” Rio frowns.

“Shut up. I don’t need you telling me what to do,” Silvio argues. 

Emma realizes it’s no use when Silvio’s gotten himself worked up like this, and if she throws a fit and ends up getting herself hurt it’ll just make him all depressed. She tries to shoot Rio a wink to say it’s alright, and seeing this Rio immediately goes into crisis-containment mode - apologizing to all the guests for the fuss his ‘idiot brother’ has made with his usual charm and charisma.

In moments he has all the ladies gathered there eating out of his hand, showing off his now-practiced socialite face, the one he’s been honing more now that he’s in the public eye as Silvio’s aide.

While a grateful Emma watches him charm them all, she suggests to Silvio they take this somewhere else to talk and he seems to agree. Still pissy though as he kicks in the door to a nearby room on the ship and carries her inside the space as luxurious as any fine room on land. 

The silence though is so absolute you could hear a pin drop, only the sound of the wind and the waves, before Silvio finally speaks.

“Did you take any medicine?” he asks, taking a seat on a chair. Still holding Emma in his arms. 

She tells him she did, before she came aboard, but realizes that if he doesn’t know whether she did or not he clearly must not have talked to Rio. Not to mention she highly doubts Rio would break his promise to her.  “How did you know I was sick?”

He says she just doesn’t seem to have her usual vim and vigor, and that has her taken aback slightly to realize that Silvio’s been paying close enough attention to her to take note of such a minor change. 

“When would you have noticed that?” she asks, baffled. There shouldn’t have been any occasion for him to see her that morning. 

“When you were talking with everyone back at the port,” he explains. 

“You’ve been watching me for awhile then, I take it?” she asks, but he refuses to answer that. “What about your work?”

“...It’s all finished,” he finally replies. 

She’s still in disbelief at that, because the day is hardly even close to over, but Silvio waves it off as merely being damn good at his job. Emma’s not buying this though, and she points out that even if he IS hella capable it seems impossible he’d have the time to come by the port after his work was done. 

Scowling he tells her to knock the line of questioning off - he’s clearly not interested in spending any more time on the topic, and he tells her once again they should leave. 

There’s still a million things she wants to say, but she settles on this. “Do you really not trust me?” He wants to know why that’s even a question, and she goes on to elaborate. “Even if I say I’m fine, you seem to refuse to believe me at all.”

He lapses into a shocked silence at that.

It’s the same thing as yesterday, Emma thinks. Silvio worries about her more than anyone else in the world, and he’s trying to shelter and protect her as his fiancée…but that’s not what she wants. If she back down here, if she lets him have his way, he’ll spoil her for the rest of her life. 

Meeting his displeased gaze, she cradles his cheeks in her hands. “Is your fiancée such a frail woman? Did I not once rescue a prince locked in prison?” His expression sobers as she goes on. “I love ‘Overprotective Silvio’ too, but…trust me now. And when it’s all over, you can tell me ‘good job’ all you want. I’m not marrying you to be cosseted - I want to be your betrothed so that we can stay by each other’s side and be there for each other in the hard times and the good.”

Silvio remains silent, and she can’t read his expression well enough to tell if he’s convinced or not. So, feeling as if she has no other choice…she takes him off guard with a swift kiss to the deep frown carved in his forehead and slips off his lap as he’s still stunned, racing out the door and back to freedom outside.

“Ah, damn it, she ran away.” Silvio curses aloud in the empty room…before he quietly states that she hasn’t said anything he doesn’t already know.

~~~~~~~~

PREMIUM END: HIS POV

Ever since I fell in love with that woman, I’ve been saying strange things. Even though I know it’s all just a burden on her…

From the shadows of the back alley, Silvio sneaks a peek at Emma chatting with the women at the port. The dress she’s wearing today is supposed to be a simple, refined design - but when Emma wears it she’s stunning, like a rose in bloom that charms everyone with its beauty. It’s a sight he could stare at forever….but he sighs when he feels the presence of someone else in the empty alley.

“Hey, don’t follow me, damn dog,” he grumbles at Rio.

Rio scoffs at that. “It’s my job to bring back the idiot prince who left his job.”

Silvio’s annoyed by that, as Rio comes to stand beside him and look over at him incredulously. Silvio defends his leaving by saying he’s done the essentials at least, but Rio points out there’s still a bunch of paperwork left to tackle.

“It’s fine if it waits until tomorrow. I’ve got more important things to do,” Silvio argues. 

“You’re too overprotective, no two ways about it,” Rio sighs. 

“Shut up,” Silvio retorts. “ She doesn’t exactly take very good care of herself, so better overprotective than not.”

Rio doesn’t say anything in reply to that, and Silvio lapses into musing to himself how Emma just casually does reckless things - she’d already worked herself into collapsing from fever once before. And when he’d taken her out on the town the other day, it was obvious the pressure and exhaustion were getting to her. Trying to reassure her about the rumors the merchants were spreading due to his own infatuation had only seemed to make things worse, and made him worry more. Hence his clandestine party watching.

He was right to come, though, he reasons as he clicks his tongue with irritation at the distant Emma and observes she’s def not feeling well.

“You noticed?” Rio asks, and Silvio points out to him how Emma’s lacking her usual spark. Rio seems surprised that Silvio can tell that from even this far away…but to himself, Silvio thinks how it’s not any wonder he could see that, given how much time he spends watching Emma.

But…can he really let her go to that party in such a state??

He takes a step forward as if to follow her onto the boat, only for Rio to stop him. “Hey! Don’t interrupt! You know Emma doesn’t want your help.”

That just pisses Silvio off, that Rio thinks he knows what Emma’s thinking. But most of all, he hates this - he can’t stand seeing Emma in pain or suffering.

~~~~~~~~

After the party, in the carriage he’s stuffed Emma into the moment it was over, the world’s longest and most awkward silence reigns until Emma’s finally fed up.

“Ahhhhrgh! What’s with the silence?!” she cries.

Silvio can’t think of what to say though, wracked with guilt as Emma’s words keep coming back to him. 

“Do you really not trust me?”

It’s not that he doesn’t have faith in her, things just sort of ended up this way, and he’s frustrated trying to think of what else he should have done. Is she really trying to tell him that leaving her to her fever was the right thing to do?? He’s got things he wants to say to her, but he can’t seem to get his thoughts together well enough to articulate it no matter how desperately he wants to…and he only grows more frustrated with himself for not being able to put his feelings into words. 

“If you have something to say, just say it!” she tells him.

“Sick people shouldn’t be shouting,” he scowls.

“I am not sick,” Emma argues. 

He tells her not to lie, even as he concedes that her complexion’s improved at least. Putting a hand to her forehead to test her temperature, which seems normal now.

She suggests it might be due to her stress finally having ended, but to himself Silvio still vows to have a doctor take a look at her when they get home. 

“You had a stomach ache the other day, and a fever today,” Silvio frowns. 

“It’s fine to be a bit under the weather, as long as you get through it,” Emma counters. To himself he thinks that he’d do something about it long before it got to that point, but his train of thought is cut off when she prompts him again. “So, back to the subject -”

He’s still silent, unable to find the words, and feigns ignorance as he pointedly stares out the window to avoid her. The sea outside the carriage is calm, but his heart is in turmoil, as if struck by some great storm. 

“The ocean is beautiful today, isn’t it?” Emma asks, seemingly having given up on the conversation as she looks out at the scenery as well. 

“You wanna stop and see?” he offers, and she asks if that’s okay.

He tells her he’s got nothing else going on today…but he’s thinking how much he knows going to the beach makes her happy. And he’ll get this all straightened out, he’s determined.

With the sunset for a backdrop, he and Emma stroll along the beach - but he can’t stop the frown from creeping back onto his face, and Emma is too sharp to miss the expressions he makes.

“Are you angry?” she asks finally.

“Not with you,” he replies.

“Then, who are you angry with?” she presses.

“Myself of course, I guess,” he admits, and falls into his own thoughts again.

He knows the sort of woman Emma is, and yet he dared try and stomp all over her will. And worst of all, even though he was aware of it, all he could seem to do was annoy her.

Truth be told he, he’s really pissed at himself.

Emma comes to a stop, and he does as well a few steps later. The sound of the crashing waves seeming to chide the silence.

“I know it’s a selfish worry,” Silvio begins. He says that he knows being exhausted or anxious isn’t any sort of reason to shirk your role, and that he knows she wants to fulfill her duty as the king’s consort perfectly. Even though it’s not easy, he shouldn’t have thought trying to escape it was the right thing.

“You realize all that, and yet you still tried to take me away today?” Emma presses. 

He admits that he does, he gets all of this and he knows all of it, but he still can’t help what he thinks. “I don’t want you to have to suffer because of me…” Silvio says, resigned. “I honestly don’t know how to make the woman I love happy.”

In the past, he was always surrounded by nothing but money. Never truly wishing to make someone else happy, so he’s clueless in this regard. But…Emma’s happiness is the only thing he ever wants. If money could buy it for her, he’d gladly spend every last penny he had…but that would never work. 

He’s at a complete loss, fumbling like some kind of child. And that feeling has only grown stronger as the preparations for their engagement ceremony began and the burden fell harder on Emma. Working herself half to death like this, is she really happy?? True happiness should be her having the freedom to laugh, foolishly carefree, all the time.

He’s well aware that he’s hopelessly lost here, because he doesn’t understand the happiness of others.

“Sometimes, it occurs to me…” Emma begins, and he looks at her quizzically. “That you’re pretty adorable, aren’t you, Silvio!”

Scowling and redfaced, he asks if she’s trying to pick a fight - here he is, tying himself up into knots over this and she’s over there grinning?!

He grabs her head and musses it a bit, and she laughs out apologies.

“Quit grinning,” he grouses.

“People tend to do that when they’re happy,” she tells him, and he wonders aloud what exactly about what he just said made her feel happy. “All of it.”

He’s baffled, but Emma goes on to tell him she’s happy every day, actually. 

“That’s coming from the woman who was on the ground with a stomachache yesterday?” he argues.

Emma says she was mostly joking around, and he was egging it on kind of too even, wasn't he? He’s still confused how that would make her happy, and she tells him it DOES, because it’s obvious how Silvio loves her with every bit of himself…a revelation that only leaves him stunned.

“I can do my very best every day because of you, and I want to work through it,” she explains. “You are my happiness.”

He’s unable to process this, reeling as he tries to puzzle it out. Emma is adored by so many people, unlike him - he never considered that something as simple as being loved would bring her happiness. 

Aloud, he wonders if his worries seem stupid, and if something that simple is really enough to make her happy.

“It’s not that simple,” she assures him. “You’re the first person who makes me happy just by being there.”

He’d thought…that it was just him that felt like that. That surely Emma, who is used to being loved by everyone, would feel differently. 

Or so he’d thought.

Without even realizing it, a smile comes to his face.

“Silvio…are you happy?” Emma asks.

He gives her crap about her eyes being blind, before admitting that he wouldn’t be smiling if he wasn’t happy right? She joyfully agrees, and offers him a smile brighter and more dazzling than the setting sun. The look of someone truly happy.

He does have something he wants to say to her - it’s finally hit him. Even with his worry for her, the overprotectiveness and being a burden on her, there’s just one feeling he wants to be sure she’s aware of. 

“I’ll say this just one time,” he tells her, schooling his expression to seriousness. The midsummer sun shining on him, so hot he’s practically sweltering…but he wants to be sure he shares this with her before the ceremony. He takes a deep bracing breath of the sea breeze, and blows it out. “You’re the only one I’d ever be such a fool in love for.”

I can’t remember who I was before I met you, he thinks. That’s how crazy he is about her. 

“I’m only going to say that once in my life,” he prompts her again, as she remains utterly silent. Vaguely affronted as her face remains turned down at the words he’d thrown away all his shame and pride to utter. “How can you not say anything?”

Now it’s just getting embarrassing, and he’s silently pleading with her to say something, anything at all. Grasping her chin and tilting her head up  - only to find Emma’s face bright red, the deep blush covering even her ears and neck. Not a trace of her usual sass to be found.

“D-don’t look at me!” she sputters.

He’s blown away by her face, before he grins and tells her she’s 100% adorable, which only has her gasping that it’s a low blow to say something like that now.

He’ll take the cheater accusation though, gladly, he says…and to himself he’s thinking how gd frigging much he loves her as he steals those warm lips. Kissing her to keep her from realizing how head over heels he is too.

This moment, mesmerized and lost in her, with the sound of the waves crashing distantly - this is the most priceless of treasures. Something he could never ever buy, not with all the riches in the world.

~~~~~~~~

A few days later, the ceremony takes place to name Silvio heir and Emma his fiancee properly. Thanks to her efforts, the party goes off splendidly…

For some reason, the soon-to-abdicate king stops Silvio in an out of the way corner. He’s frustrated at being kept from Emma, but he bites back the urge to lash out over the waste of time. 

“Hey, old geezer. If you don’t have shit to say, I’m gonna leave,” Silvio warns. 

“Still talking like that? If you’re going to be king, you should at least clean up that filthy mouth,” the king warns. 

Silvio says he only talks like that to the king, and he dismisses him, ready to leave, when the king stops him. He tells Silvio they’re not finished talking yet, and he offers the prince a drink. Practically shoving it into Silvio’s hand and filling it to the brim - a tradition for greeting and for blessing happy occasions in Benitoite.

Unhappy but unable to refuse, Silvio drains the glass in one go…and the old man does the same. 

“You…” the old king begins. “Aren’t really like ‘her’ after all, I guess.”

The ‘her’ in question is his mother, Silvio knows. And just thinking of the woman who laughed as she tried to murder the current queen countless times makes him feel sick to his stomach. “Who’d wanna be like that bitch? I have no interest in being some kind of beast. Course, I’ve got no interest in being a nasty old codger like you either.”

The old king angrily says Silvio’s got a real gift for distracting him. “I thought I’d congratulate you even if it’s just a formality, but I guess that’s not necessary.”

“Ha, just now figuring that out?” Silvio scoffs.

The only one the king’s ever given a shit about was that fucking dog - it seems too late to try and be putting on an air of fatherly concern now, Silvio thinks. He slams the glass down on a nearby table and turns away.

“Do a good job, Silvio,” the king says to his back. “...It’s hard work making a woman happy in this position.”

He doesn’t need to be told something like that, he thinks. He already knows. The current queen has had her life threatened many times because of her position, and the king can’t keep her safe from everything. “Don’t worry, old man,” he tells the king as a parting shot. “Unlike you, I’m plenty capable.”

I’ll never make you unhappy, is his silent vow to Emma.

~~~~~~~~

Back in Silvio’s room, he’s got a new trial to deal with - the fact that by the time he escaped the old man and made it back to Emma, it was clearly too late. His fiancee is utterly obliterated after being toasted by so many well-wishers, and is uncharacteristically rather tipsy. Giggling at him and generally acting drunk now that they’re safely in private, although she’d managed to keep it together at the party and present a sober front. 

She pleads with Silvio to acknowledge how well she did after drinking so much, and he grudgingly does - scowling though as he says how everyone in Benitoite is used to this sort of thing as a celebration but she’s from Rhodolite and not yet, so she shouldn’t overdo it. 

“Okaaaaay,” she draws out.

“Can you drink some water?” he asks, and she proudly agrees she can manage that, downing a glass…but she’s getting as much of it on herself as she is in her mouth, spilling out around the edges.

“No, clearly you can’t. Are you doing that on purpose?” he asks suspiciously - it wouldn’t be the first time Emma has pretended to be drunk around him. (She does this in his route and forces him to carry her back to the carriage) But he’s pretty sure she’s not faking it this time…and he’s trying real hard not to be a perv and ogle the way she’s gotten the whole front of her dress wet.

He pushes the naughty thoughts aside and takes a nearby cloth to dry her off, which leads to her smiling up at him all dazedly and hugging him tightly. 

“W-what the?” he asks, flustered. 

“Silvio…tonight…is the first night since we got engaged,” she points out.

He’s still redfaced and silent as he notices the Benitoite gem winking on her ring finger, the one he’d given her as an engagement ring. An unmistakable reminder of the way their relationship had officially changed that leaves him reeling. 

“I—I want to tell you that I love you a lot,” Emma goes on. “I love you so much Silvio!!”

And he’s left at an utter loss as to what he should do now…

TBC in epilogue!

~~~~~~~~

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