#they're part of the peerage but how did they get there!!!!

[masked-disciple]

Me: Oh neato, post about how to do transportation pre-trains. That's always useful for writing.

Me, three hours later at one-thirty in the morning: It doesn't make sense for Barok and Klint to be the 'main' branch of the van Zieks line. They live too close to London and they don't do enough governing of their own state and also they don't have court titles. They're second cousins at best of the van Zieks line.

[therubyreader]

My Review of American Royals by Katharine McGee

See a full list of my book reviews here

Review Word Count: 1,195

I know this is usually where I put my spoiler warning for my reviews but since I have decided that based on the nature of this book there aren't any major plot points that I want to talk about so this review will be spoiler free.

I will give this disclaimer though, if you're a die hard fan of this book then this review isn't for you. That isn't to say I'm going to drag this book through hell and back, but it honestly wasn't my cup of tea. I will be talking about the things in this book that I personally didn't like so if you don't want to see your favorite book besmirched by some random bitch on tumblr dot com then please keep scrolling.

On to the review!

American Royals gives all of us history nerds a peek into an alternate reality where George Washington became the king of the United States instead of its first president and how that would look in modern day. In this reality we also see how the peerage system works in the States and also how many monarchies in other parts of the world have survived. For example the French and Russian monarchies and the German principalities are alive and well in this book which was a very interesting touch that I enjoyed.

The book centers around the lives of the modern royals, Crown Princess Beatrice who is set to be America's first queen regnant, her younger sister Princess Samantha who is the exact opposite of Beatrice and suffers from an extreme case of middle child syndrome coupled with spare syndrome, and Samantha's twin Prince Jefferson a.k.a. Jeff (side note I think the name Jeff is gross and I agree with Daphne on calling him Jefferson) who is quite literally just there, chilling.

Now while I was intrigued with the concept of an alternate reality where the United States is a monarchy I honestly did not expect the book to go the way that it did. I know that just writing what life would be like with an American monarchy wouldn't sell and would be extremely boring, but let me tell you I didn't not expect to essentially get into a written telenovela. You get all of the classic traits of a novela, three (or maybe four, depends on how you count it) love triangles stacked on top of each other, betrayal, romance, dramatics, and then someone just randomly dying to advance the plot. What more can you want?

I say that but in reality I wasn't really a fan of it. Sure if you like soap operas and reality tv this book is for you, but I'm not really a fan of either so I honestly got to a point at the end where all of the plot points converged and it all just got so overwhelming for me that I struggled to finish the last, like 10% of the book. That being said I'm not going to keep reading this series, though I did Google if Beatrice ended up with my favorite boy Connor just because he was my favorite and I needed to know.

Speaking of characters I actually enjoyed all of them, I was just kind of annoyed with the insane amount of love triangles happening to them. I honestly didn't hate Daphne, I don't condone literally any of her actions because she was evil but I sympathized with her motives. In the words of a wise man, "cool motive, still murder," (no she didn't murder anyone btw, but that would've been a great plot point).

Though if you read my Gods of Jade and Shadow review you might expect my favorite character to be Nina, in Latina solidarity, but she might've actually been my least favorite character. Actually her and Daphne are tied in that spot. Main reason being how they're both juxtaposed in their endeavors to win over Jefferson, and I really want to tell them it is quite literally not that serious. We get some not very feminist differences between them, Nina is "not like other girls" and a normal girl while Daphne is the embodiment of femininity and has the makings of a princess. Also Jeff fully cheated on Daphne and then broke up with her over the phone the next day and then tried to get at Nina. And then he proceeded to play with both of their emotions and yet both of these girls were fighting over him? Those are some serious red flags, I'm going to need these girls to get up, they deserve better.

I did honestly like the relationship between Beatrice and Sam, you get to see how they're opposites for the same reason, if that makes sense. Beatrice is meant to be the next queen so she has to be perfect and because Sam is the spare she wants to be the opposite of Beatrice and a party girl who's impulsive and puts herself first. I genuinely enjoyed their dynamic and how they play off of one another.

I didn't like Jeff at all, which honestly he might be my least favorite character and Nina and Daphne get the spot right above him. Literally this dude contributes nothing to the plot besides being there for two girls to fight over him and have their own character growth because of him. It's not very feminism or Bechdel test of them (though they do have a conversation which might pass if I remember correctly). The author even tells us in the story that Sam and Jeff are supposed to be very close but we don't see it, there's only maybe two instances where you can see their close bond but really nothing beyond that. Also there is literally no interactions between Jeff and Beatrice despite them being siblings, and I get that part of the plot is that they're not super close with her and they haven't been since they were kids but like come on, they couldn't have had at least one conversation in the whole book.

I do feel like the book was definitely marketed more towards a teen audience which is partially what I get for being a grown ass adult (I'm only in my early 20s so like technically I'm closer in age to a 19 year old than a 30 year old) reading YA fiction. But either way even if I was still a teen I don't think I would've enjoyed the book more than I do now, partially due to me being a weird kid who liked to consume media that was action heavy rather than romance heavy, which honestly still holds true to this day. I will say the book isn't bad, it's just honestly not for me, I can appreciate the writing and imagination that comes with creating this alternate reality, which major props to author for committing to doing that. Overall rating, not for me but for someone else out of ten. Even though I said I wouldn't continue to read the series if someone has a really good pitch I'll perhaps give it a shot but you have to do some serious convincing.

[karahalloway]

You know I have been waiting for this one!!!

EEEeee! Your reblog!!

As per usual, Connie is a colossal dick

The Burn Book 🤣🤣🤣 You know you've now made me want to rewatch Mean Girls, right?

Maddy's mum, Stifflers mom...po-tay-toe, poh-tah-toe

When I realised the similarities I was like...

I had to make an ode to the movie because it's just so perfect!

Listen, if I quoted every brilliant line in here, I would have to quote the whole damn thing! Just know that their entire exchange was brillant perfection!!!!!

Aww thanks! Glad you enjoyed it! I've never really written this kind of dynamic before - older woman/younger man - so I was really nervous about capturing Adelaide realistically.

He's not sure! He's so confused!

There's the confident fuckboy we all know and love!

Hahaha yes - this part was fun! The fact that he wants it so much, but doesn't want to make the first move for fear of getting rejected, and then it starts happening and he's not 100% sure he's reading the signs right, and then he just says 'fuck it' and jumps right in like there's no tomorrow 🤣

Also the Tom Cruise gif 🥰

hahaha, Leo, that's who! In my best Jon Snow voice, "I dun wan it..."

You have no idea how hard I laughed at this 🤣🤣🤣

She doesn't even stop or try to cover up anything, I am HOWLING!

I mean... going back to the convo from a few days ago, it's Maddy who has the problem, so why should she cover up? 🤣🤣🤣

That cat gif

HA! Just when I thought, well, Leo's going to be king in this one....

Awesome! I was hoping that people would be like 'Oh... after all that he's just gonna cave...? Boo...!' So that I could then go, 'Nope! Not Leo!' 😆

I love this version better than any version of his abdication I have ever seen! Just seconds from being king, in front of the entire country! Constantine just.....

Awww thank you!! 🥺 This was the scene that came to me when we were throwing ideas around original and I was like 'I HAVE TO WRITE THIS!!' bc it was so perfectly hilarious in my head. And I kind of agree - the way I HC Leo, this is 100% how he would abdicate - off-the-cuff, last minute, with no plan in place, just winging it like a pro, leaving everyone slap-faced 🤣

I LOVE this! (and love the addition of him being Duke of Applewood, not me having flashbacks to getting lost going down that particular rabbit hole myself....I know far more than I should about peerage titles now....like the fact that they're called peerage titles...)

So... after that entire peerage conversation, I was writing this and Applewood just plopped onto the page and I was like 'OMG why didn't I think of this earlier when I was talking to Angela?!' 🤣 Bc the Heir is not normally the duke of the capital (if anything, that's going to be the monarch), so I was like 'What's similar to Cornwall in Cordonia...? Applwood... Duh.' 😅 But, better late than never lol (also, feel free to steal, if you want).

Leo is the duke of horny.....

...but yes. Bc well, he did get interrupted by Madeleine so you can forgive him for his mind being elsewhere lol Also I can't believe you found a gif for that comment!!

This is hysterical considering that we know canonically there is a next time (as unlikely as that seems) and that she certainly does not have better luck at it!

I literally cheered out loud at this! You have nailed his character! (at least as I HC him).

...also jumping off the balcony seems to be a habit that my LIs are developing I make no apologies

This was fucking amazing and you should definitely write Leo more in the future!

Lol don't encourage me!! I have enough WIPs to finish without starting a new one! That said Leo has been on my list for a while bc I do honestly love him!

These cracked me up so much! 🤣🤣🤣 Especially the headlines - prince throws himself off balcony! ROLF!!

Thank you so much for reading and for making my day with this reblog!!! 🥰🥰🥰🥰

Sex Bomb

Fandom: TRR

Paining: Leo Rys x Adelaide Amaranth

Series: None (this is a one-shot and can be read independently of the rest of my fics)

Word count: 4,000

Warnings: swearing, alcoholic tendencies, smut, outrage, crack ship (you have been warned)

Theme song:

A/N1: This is my long-awaited (and very much demanded) follow-up to the part I wrote for One Night in Cordinia; however, you should be able to read the current fic as a standalone.

A/N2: Since I love killing two birds with one stone, this is also my submission for this year's Smutember event hosted by @choicesprompts. The prompts that this fits into is 'Caught in the act' and 'We shouldn't be doing this...'

A/N3: Certain parts of this fic were somewhat inspired by the scene between Finch and Stiffler's Mom from American Pie. The clip, for anyone who hasn't seen the movie, is below the cut.

Sex Bomb

"Bloody hell..."

Leo dropped the edge of the heavy brocade curtain he was holding, letting it fall back into place behind the dais to conceal his presence once again.

The ballroom was heaving. And the evening had barely even kicked off. Lord knew how many more people were still battling the traffic to get a coveted front-row seat for the royal event of the century.

The Coronation.

...or, as Leo liked to call it, the Royal Nail in the Coffin.

Because in his mind, that's what it was. The final, inescapable blow that would seal his fate for good, and maroon him forever on the desolate island that was kingship... shackled in life-long matrimony to Madeleine Amaranth.

Leo shuddered at the thought. Especially when he recalled his fiancée's naked form getting skewered loudly by that Justin What's-His-Face PR pansy on the steps of Beaumont House mere days ago.

Not because of the fact that she'd had sex with someone else. Hell, he'd tapped more ass than he could count! So, he couldn't exactly begrudge his soon-to-be wife's promiscuity. Especially when she couldn't remember any of it...

No, it was the fact that here he was, on the eve of his engagement to his future Queen, and all he could think about was her mother.

That sexy vixen of a woman, Adelaide. The Duchess That Had Got Away.

Very literally.

Because in the chaos of the Shagging Smog-infused assassination-attempt-gone-wrong — aka the Beaumont Bash — Leo had lost his one chance to notch that coveted mark on his bedpost... especially considering that she would've actually been game for it, given the mind-altering effects of the aerosol-based dispersant.

Talk about fucking irony...

Leo heaved a breath.

Maybe it wasn't meant to be. Maybe there was a reason why—

"Quite the crowd out there, huh, son?"

Leo clenched his eyes shut. "Yes, Father."

Constantine clapped a hand onto his eldest son's shoulder. "It's going to be quite the night!"

"Yes, Father," Leo intoned, forcing himself to swallow down the bile that suddenly threatened to bubble up his gullet.

The King's fingers tightened on his jacket. "All eyes will be on you, lad. Do not cock this up."

Leo felt himself gag. "'Scuse me...!"

Slapping a hand over his mouth in an attempt to keep the scotch-laden contents of his stomach under wraps, he lurched past his father.

Stumbling across the ante-room, he barely made it to the nearest ficus plant before the 20-year old single malt regurgitated itself into the perfectly hydrated potting mix in front of him.

"Christ, you are a royal disgrace..." muttered Constantine as he marched past him. "If God would've had any sense, he would've made Liam my heir instead of you. But here I am, stuck with your worthless hide instead..."

The slam of the mahogany door reverberated around the room.

"The feeling's mutual, old man," muttered Leo, shooting a wad of spittle into the planter to cleanse his mouth.

Lifting his head, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

A drink. He needed a drink.

Mostly because he'd just thrown up the five fingers worth of Dutch courage he'd consumed less than an hour ago, and there was no way he was subjecting himself to the shitshow on the other side of that curtain even remotely sober.

And if Constantine had an epileptic fit...? Well, he deserved it.

The old tosser had given Leo enough hell during his 30-odd years on Earth, trying to mould him into something that the wayward prince wasn't, and never would be.

Making his way to the other side of the room, Leo located the hidden door that led to the service corridors and slipped inside.

A few twists and well-worn turns through the rabbit warren, and he emerged out into the smoking room, a plushly decorated space filled with heavy brocade curtains, velvet armchairs, a billiards table, and — most importantly — a well-stocked liquor cabinet.

Making a straight line towards the blessed promise of inebriation, he grabbed the nearest decanter of scotch, and pulled the heavy crystal stopper out.

He was about to pour himself a healthy serving when he heard the rustle of heavy taffeta behind him.

Glancing around, he nearly dropped the priceless Swarovski crystal on the floor.

"Pinching a cheeky tipple?" asked Adelaide Amaranth, surveying him over the rim of her own glass.

"Shit, Maddy's mum...!" Leo quickly composed himself. "Erm... Thought I'd get a head start on the party."

"Mmm..." purred the Duchess of Krona, perching herself on the edge of the billiards table. "Man after my own heart..."

Leo swallowed loudly as the skirt of her dress slid apart to reveal the length of her toned legs.

After the unmitigated disaster that had been the Bash, she'd appeared to him again, luscious and alone — like a siren rising from the dark depths of his previous failure — tempting him with a second chance...

...or goading him with the unattainability of his crusade.

Either way, Leo felt his guts tighten at her unexpected presence.

"So..." Her voice interrupted his thoughts. "Are you all set? To become King and all?" she asked, swirling the remnants of her drink around in the crystal tumbler.

"Furthest thing from," Leo admitted, sloshing himself a drink with shaky hands.

Whether it was nerves or anticipation, he wasn't sure. Either way, he was now doubly, triply in need of the hard stuff... in part because he could feel some other stuff becoming hard as well.

"Hence why you're looking for something to take the edge off," she mused, running her aqua-coloured gaze over him. "Smart thinking."

"Tell that to my Father..." scoffed Leo, dropping the decanter back on the cabinet top, trying to maintain his cool in the face of her intoxicating closeness.

"Or my daughter," agreed Adelaide with a roll of her eyes. "If anyone needs a bevvy, it's her! Speaking of... have you see her? She's quite disappeared on me..."

"Nope. Can't say I have," admitted Leo, throwing the scotch back greedily.

Adelaide surveyed him for a long moment before shrugging. "Probably for the best, really. She can't stand me on the best of days. She's under some misguided impression that I'll say or do something that will embarrass her..."

"Welcome to my world," muttered Leo, reaching for the decanter again. "I am the living embodiment of my father's resentment. You know, he even told me tonight that I am — quote-unquote — a 'royal disgrace' and Liam should've been his heir instead."

"Hmm..." murmured Adelaide, sliding off the billiards table yo shimmy up to him. "I don't know about any of that... I think you'll look fantastic in a crown..."

Leo snorted. "That is hardly a qualification for kingship..."

"Isn't it?" pressed Adelaide, leaning her empty glass against her cheek as she cocked her head at him.

"I have it on rather good authority that there's a bit more to it than that..." murmured Leo ruefully, unable to stop his gaze from sliding down her neck to the bare skin of her cleavage that sat exposed between the lines of her dress.

"Don't listen to them," chided Adelaide, reaching up to run a finger through his thick, blonde hair. "A king needs only three things — a royal bloodline and an iconic profile. Everything else will be taken care of for you."

Leo felt an uncharacteristic shudder course through him as her fingertip brushed over the sensitive skin of his temple. "Apart from the actual ruling..."

"You'd be surprised..." she smiled. "I haven't set foot in Krona in months! The equerries take care of all the pesky details."

"Running a kingdom's a tad more involved than running a duchy..."

"Pfft!" she scoffed. "Duchy? Kingdom? What's the difference? You sign the odd piece of paper, and throw the occasional ball. That's it!"

"And lead Council meetings, host foreign dignitaries, review petitions, attend—"

"Leo, darling, you are terribly overthinking this!" chided Adelaide with a laugh, reaching for the decanter to pour herself another glass. "You think the kings and queens of old bored themselves with all the minutiae? No! They delegated, so they could have fun fighting battles and posing for portraits."

"Not sure fighting battles was exactly fun..."

"My Prince," she said, leaning in, as if imparting a secret. "All I'm saying is you have nothing to worry about. You could conquer nations with that jaw-line..."

Leo's heart stopped in it's tracks as he swore he felt the tip of her tongue flick over his skin.

"...your sense of duty is just a bonus."

"And... and the third thing?" he stammered.

"The Crown Jewels," she declared, pulling back to fix him with a knowing look.

Leo frowned. "You mean the Apple and th—"

"I mean these jewels," she corrected, grabbing the front of his trousers without warning.

Leo nearly jumped out of his skin as he felt her manicured nails close emphatically around his meat and two veg.

"Holy f—!"

"Mmm," purred Adelaide, tightening her hold on him. "Seems to be present and accounted for..."

Leo merely squeaked in response. He had no idea what was happening, or how he'd even gotten to having Adelaide's hands wrapped around his sex pistol in the first place, but he sure as bloody hell wasn't going to tell her to stop!

"...but one cannot be sure without a proper inspection."

Leo froze. "Inspection?"

Adelaide lifted her gaze to met his square on. "Darling, you are marrying my daughter. I cannot — in good conscience — let you bed her without ensuring that all the royal parts are in working order... and capable of producing grandchildren."

"Trust me..." wheezed Leo as he felt Adelaide's hands reach for his belt. "The lads have never let me down."

"Oh, yes," smiled Adelaide, undoing his buckle and letting the ornate belt drop the floor. "I am well aware of your many... conquests. But I also know the papers like to exaggerate. So, surely you cannot begrudge a mother for wanting to obtain independent confirmation."

"How 'bout a live demonstration?" blurted Leo, grasping at the edge of the drinks cabinet for support as Adelaide wrestled with the buttons of his trousers.

Hell, if this was happening, then he was gonna make damned sure that it was happening!

"Don't jump the gun, darling," Adelaide tutted, ripping the fronts of his pants open. "You need to pass muster first."

Leo gasped audibly as his sexcalibur sprang — finally, blessedly! — free of its confines.

"Not one for briefs, I see..." she observed, running her fingers critically over him.

"I threw them all out years ago," he panted in response to the feel of her silken touch on his heated gherkin.

"Another thing we have in common," she smirked, reaching for his hand to guide it over the back of her dress.

A desperate groan escaped him as his palm skated over the smooth, unencumbered expanse of her backside as she continued to fondle him. "So, what's the verdict?"

"A package worthy of a king," Adelaide assured him, rolling his plums together in her palm.

Leo felt his eyes tip back into his head at the overwhelming sensation...

...before it stopped just as quickly as it had started.

Creaking his eyes open, he saw Adelaide throw him a cheeky smirk over her shoulder as she glided sinuously towards the billiards table.

"Aren't you coming, darling?" she whispered back at him.

Leo nearly tripped over his own trousers in his haste to get to her. He was going to get the chance to live out his dirtiest, most depraved fantasy, after all! He was not wasting one more second!

"Lord, you have no idea how long I've waited for this..." he gasped, stumbling across the room towards her.

"Oh, I know very well," she assured him, leaning back to spread her arms out over the polished walnut. "I've seen you looking at me, Leo."

He faltered. "You have?"

"Of course, my darling," she assured him, cocking her leg seductively. "You were hardly subtle in your attentions. A woman notices these things..."

"You know this is highly improper..." he pointed out as he finally made it to her.

"Oh, sweet boy!" she laughed. "This would be the scandal of the century!"

"Then we better give them something to talk about," he grinned, grabbing her by her toned derrière to lift her onto the edge of the billiards table.

"Mmm... I can think of a few things..." she breathed, planting her hands on his shoulders to push him down towards her nether region.

"I'm sure you can, m'lady," he grinned, shifting his hands to the back of her knees to yank her towards him, the sudden momentum sending the top half of her body falling back onto the felt. "But allow me to put even your wildest dreams to shame."

"Bold words..." purred Adelaide with a coy smile as he lifted her legs up to anchor her Valentino Gavarani-clad feet on his shoulders, causing the skirt of her dress to cascade down towards her hips.

"I've yet to receive anything other than a stellar review," he winked at her, grabbing her waist to invert her almost fully as he lifted her sacred centre up to his face.

"That may be so, darling, but unlike some ladies, I have high standards..." murmured Adelaide, lifting her arms above her head in anticipation. "I don't dish out gold stars to just anybody..."

"I don't intend disappoint," Leo assured her with a cocky smirk as he bent his head towards her.

"...why must I do everything myself!" seethed Madeleine, stomping down the otherwise empty corridor in her Valentino sling-backs.

She'd known Leo was an immature and unreliable cad who was more interested in finding the next skirt to lift than paying any semblance of attention to actual matters of state.

And while she would've definitely preferred a more dedicated and biddable prospect — such as his younger brother — to share the rigours of governance with, she ultimately wasn't marrying the Playboy Prince because she liked him.

In all honesty, the man could've had warts and halitosis and she still would've gone through with the union!

Because this was a political match, pure and simple. The House of Rys allying itself with the House of Amaranth, the richest and most influential noble family in Cordonia in order to keep Queen Kenna's line alive...

...with the added benefit of elevating Madeleine's own status to that of Queen. A role that she'd been training for since before she could even walk, given her father's unrelenting pursuit of power by any and all means — an endeavour that she very much shared, much to her mother's disgruntlement.

But she couldn't exactly get engaged if her intended was missing! Tonight, of all nights!

Who, in their right mind, disappears on their own coronation?!

Of course, she was well aware of Leo's infamous tendency to pull vanishing acts, but what the blasted hell was the man thinking? To leave an entire country in the lurch?

Certainly not on her watch!

She'd already dispatched Bastien and all available members of the King's Guard to search high and low for the errant prince. But the Palace and its grounds were massive, and given the sheer number of people that had descended on the Rys stronghold for tonight's event, trying to find anyone was an exercise akin to weeding a needle out of a haystack.

So, she'd been forced to join the search herself. Even though it was insulting beyond measure and much below her station.

But, desperate times called for desperate measures, and she'd rather sweat into her ballgown running up and down the corridors now, than stand like a hapless bimbo in front of all the dignitaries and news crews trying to explain why her future king and fiancé had skipped out on an entire nation on one of the most important nights of its recent history.

No. She most certainly did not need those headlines running in the morning... or ever.

Best that she focused her efforts on helping locate the wayward heir, and hope that he wasn't halfway out of the country already... because by God, she'd send the Cordonian Secret Service after him if she had to!

Arriving at the next set of doors on her mental task-list, she wasted no time in pushing the handle down...

"Leopold?" she called, steeping into the room.

...only to freeze in shock at the sight in front of her.

There he was — the next in line to the Cordinian throne — head thrown back, trousers around his ankles, thrusting like an animal into—

"MOTHER?!"

Adelaide raised her disheveled head from the billiards table at the sound of her daughter's distraught shriek. "Oh, sweet pea! There you are!"

Leo raised his hand in a wave. "Hi, Mads!"

Madeleine's rouged lips jerked soundlessly, trying to formulate some kind of response, but nothing was forthcoming.

Never — in all her life! — had she imagined that she'd ever witness such sordid... brazen... obscenity!

She was literally lost for words. Her! The person who has been giving televised interviews since the age of four!

"Darling," soothed Adelaide, propping herself up onto her elbows to reveal the tautness of her age-defying, silicone-enhanced breasts, "I know this looks frightfully ghastly, but I can assure that—"

"Shut up..." she finally managed to croak.

Adelaide frowned. "Darling, are you—?"

"I SAID, SHUT UP!" Madeleine screeched.

Both Leo and her mother's eyes widened in the face of the uncharacteristically deranged outburst... but they nevertheless managed to refrain from commenting.

"I don't know how this..." She gestured derisively in the couple's general direction. "...colossal cock-up happened. Nor do I care. But what I do know — and most certainly care about — is that the coronation ceremony is starting. And I will not let you, Leopold—"

Leo groaned at the sound of his full, Christian name. "Jesus, Mads! I told you I—"

"Do not interrupt me!" snapped Madeleine. Sucking in a breath to collect herself, she continued, "I will not let you fuck this up for me, or the kingdom. So, if you want to keep your royal sausage, then I suggest that you pull it out of my mother and get your fatuous arse to the ballroom before I have the Guard drag you there."

Leo glanced down at Adelaide. "You sure she wasn't adopted or—?"

"NOW!!!" thundered Madeleine.

"Okay, okay, sheesh!" huffed Leo, grabbing for his trousers, given that he was already very much deflated, his fiancée having managed to suck the literal joy out of his joystick with her mere appearance .

"And you, Mother..." hissed Madeleine, turning her attention to her disheveled parent. "You have undermined me for the last time."

Adelaide scoffed. "Darling, all I have ever done is—"

"Which is why my first act as Queen will be to banish you to Krona," finished Madeleine with a haughty air of finality.

Adelaide's eyes widened. "You wouldn't dare!"

Her daughter's demeanour was icy. "You're lucky I'm not banishing you to Siberia. But if you test me—"

"Siberia at least has decent vodka..." chimed in Leo, sauntering past her out the room.

Adelaide tipped her head contemplatively. “He's got a point, you know…”

"Argh!!" screamed Madeleine, slamming the door behind her with such vehemence that it rattled the bottles in the liquor cabinet.

Vile cretins! The whole bloody lot of them!

Grabbing her intended by the arm, she hauled him all the way back to the ball, ignoring the profanity-filled protests.

Stopping in front of the pair of footmen that were manning the ballroom doors, she snapped, "Inform the King that Prince Leopold is ready for his coronation."

"Actu— Ow!!"

She brutally silenced the forthcoming objection with a heel to Leo’s foot.

As the servants rushed away to do her bidding, she manhandled Leo back into the same ante-chamber that he'd disappeared from earlier.

"Mads, stop!" he pleaded as she pulled him across the Persian carpet like a stubborn mule. "Can you please just—?"

"No," she declared, shoved him through the velvet curtains and onto the gilded dais without ceremony. "You will do your duty, even if it kills you, you ungrateful oaf!"

The hubbub of the crowd instantly ceased as Leo stumbled to a stop.

"There you are!" snap Constantine into his ear. "You have some nerve—"

"Just get on with it..." sighed Leo, the weight of finality crashing down on him as he caught his brother's the eye from across the room. Liam always hated it when his brother and father argued, and Leo didn't want to subject him to a public spectacle.

Constantine looked like he wanted to say more, but quickly decided against it. Turning to the congregation, he spread his arms and launched into his pre-prepared speech.

"Good evening, one and all! It is a great honour to have so many of you come out tonight to show your support not only for—"

"Pay attention!"

Glancing down, Leo caught Madeleine's disproving glower from the foot of the dais.

He suppressed a groan.

How they were going to sire royal babies, he had no idea...

...probably with copious amounts of drugs and alcohol...and possibly even a paper bag.

Because he already knew that there was no way that he wouldn't be able to not think about Adelaide while doing it with her daughter.

As even now, in the midst of his own coronation, his mind kept drifting back to the passionate coitus they'd shared on that billiards table before it had gotten oh, so rudely interrupted.

The way she'd moved... The sounds she'd made... That thing with her tongue... It sent shivers down his spine all over again.

And suddenly he had a stark realisation.

He couldn't do it. He couldn't go through with the coronation.

Not if it meant never being able to see her again.

"...and, now..." his father was saying, holding upon the ancient Rys signet ring, "with the bestowal of this ring, I—"

"I abdicate!"

A collective gasp of disbelief rose from the room.

Glancing up, Leo found his father and step-mother staring at him with open mouths, all semblance of propriety forgotten in the face of the shocking announcement.

But he was not perturbed. He'd made his decision. "I, Leopold Maximilian Fernando Constantine Rys, hereby officially and irrevocably renounce my royal titles as Crown Prince of Cordonia and Duke of Applewood." Turning to Constantine, he added with an apologetic shrug, "Sorry, Dad. Just wasn't feeling it."

The heavy gold band clattered to the floor as the cameras exploded into a frenzy of flashing.

"What the devil are you doing?!" demanded Madeleine, appearing in front of him as he hopped off the stage. "Get back up there and—"

"Better luck next time, Mads!" he shouted over the growing dim as he quickly skirted around the edge of the ballroom.

Reaching the closest set of French doors, he threw them open and — with the practiced ease of a man who'd done this exact manoeuvre a hundred times before — vaulted over the edge of the balcony.

Landing on the gravel, he caught sight of the lone pair of headlights idling in front of the Palace steps, and the figure that was in the process of getting behind the wheel.

A knowing smile spread over his face.

Loping across the drive, he managed to intercept the Aston Martin Vantage convertible before it had a chance to drive off.

The driver raised a brow at him as he approached. "Aren't you supposed to be getting crowned?"

"Realised I had somewhere more important to be," he admitted, coming to a stop by the side of the car. "Room for one more?"

Adelaide's lips curved into a smile. "Always, darling."

"Excellent!" exclaimed Leo, hopping into the passenger seat.

She cast him a sidelong glance. "You know this is never going to work out..."

"And?" he grinned, kicking his feet up onto the dash.

Throwing her head back with a laugh, Adelaide pressed the pedal down, kicking the tail of the Aston as they left the ball to dust.

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[ganymedesclock]

Thank you for pointing out that it's really implausible for someone not a part of an official Fantasy(tm) government to have access to full plate armor and keep it maintained on their lonesome, I have this character who somehow Wanders The World and yet is also in full plate all the time? At least I can understand how to edit that idea. Shame video games lied to me on how much armor is too much or too little for travel.

Historically speaking, most figures we'd recognize as Knights In Shining Armor were people who could afford to maintain their own armor, sword, horse- usually landed nobles. 'Knight' is a class within a peerage, closer to a lord or lady than a servant. Similar story for historical samurai- they were privileged people who could afford a sword IIRC.

Another thing I try to think about is that armor is... impractical. Uncomfortable. It's not impossible to use or limiting your range of movement massively- they did an experiment where a historical reenactor in full plate ran an obstacle course against a soldier in modern field gear, I don't recall where but I remember seeing the footage, but the knight did favorably- but living in armor is an impractical, though not an impossible, decision.

You can easily lean into that- if your character is a vagrant wanderer in full plate, they had to have either come from or been employed at some point by money, or possibly had a chance to take really good armor off someone else. If they're living in their armor almost all the time, there's still probably parts they shed according to some routine or another, and what isn't regularly taken off and cleaned (or at least, y'know, scrubbed) will probably get stinky. A big oft-overlooked-in-fantasy part of armor is padding- just the metal layer will prevent cuts, but to actually have meaningful impact resistance against stabs, pierces, or bone-shattering impacts, one way or another a would-be knight is usually wearing several layers. While it's not the only option, a gambeson- a thick quilted coat- and over that a harness to attach and support the various armor pieces is very common. Armor is actually very logistics-heavy! Owning, maintaining, and wearing it is a big deal. That's not to say you can't ever depict a character who has armor but can't maintain it- but that could very well be an interesting point.

(I think about this a lot when I draw Prisoner from Dead Cells- he is the last person who can really afford armor, meaningfully, and he's also an emaciated person going through a lot of it- so I tend to draw his armor as dented, scratched up, extremely piecemeal per canon- he really only has one pauldron and maybe a breastplate depending- and literally tied on with strips of spare cloth, because he has no padding both in terms of his deeply unhealthy body weight and the unlikeliness this armor was ever tailored to him)

In the case of rpgverse, few of the core cast has much in the way of armor. Diana literally is an ex-knight; she used to be a marchioness (relatively big cheese; right below a duke), hence why it was a pretty big courtly betrayal when she joined Deimos, who kitted her out accordingly using basically magical artifice.

Diana's armor, when she regains the ability to summon it, is a bit unnaturally fitted to her figure. I designed it off of the articulations of an exoskeleton; you can see this most obviously in where it secures to her neck. Being made of an unnatural, highly flexible quasi-organic material gives it advantages in that regard- these plates can slide over each other to articulate without scratching each other to hell and back. I've also been careful to keep the spikes on her pauldrons short and flared outwards, so she can do things like raise her arms over her head without poking herself.

Even then, she's definitely going to be dispelling it (sometimes, even the left-hand gauntlet that holds her prosthetic shadow-arm in place and forces it to work more like a conventional appendage) when not needed.

Depending on how committed you are to your knight character, anon, there's plenty of fun worldbuilding or lorebuilding options you could use to still capture the image you like. I think that practical concerns and knowledge shouldn't preclude imagination in fantasy writing, but help you hone it down- have a sense of what it means if your character is always wearing armor. Diana's armor symbolizes a lot of things to her- her former status, service she both is and isn't proud of, but also her own ability to face opposition head-on. It means a lot to her, and as the drawing makes pretty clear I think, her mental health drastically improves when she's able to reforge her own connection with darkness and regain its use.

[constitutionalweasleymonarchy]

Director’s commentary prompt- user’s choice- I just love hearing authors talks not a story and how they made their choices.

Thank you for the ask!

So I'll talk about Harry and Ron in The Pride of Burrough House -- in chapter 6 where they're hunting together. I was stoked to translate their dynamic into this setting. They are such a wonderful mix of being there for each other and roasting each other. Harry & Ron BroTP gold is like "She laughed at my moustache" / "So did I, it was the stupidest thing I've ever seen." So in this scene they're out just having fun and sporting together, but they also confide in one another about their frustrations. They're not totally smooth, they're a little hapless at times. Ron's there to spot Harry from the ground when Harry has to climb a tree to get his catch, but he's also making quips like,

"I don't know how I feel about you having any hand in running the country"

when Harry complains about his inevitable future in Parliament. And because sassy!Harry is the best, he has his own moments in that scene.

“London?” echoed Ron quizzically.

“You know. Capital of England.” He looked askance at Ron, who favoured him with his most sarcastic stare.

Then we get into a discussion about Harry's future and his father's expectations, and there was a whole lot of thought that went into this.

Harry is challenging to write in a Muggle AU, because who is he when he's not The Chosen One, with an egomaniacal magical cult leader trying to kill him during his formative years, and being expected to be the savior of the wizarding world? Not to mention the part about being an orphan raised in an abusive home and isolated during his childhood.

In Burrough House he's the son of an earl, raised in privilege, where nobody is trying to kill him, and he has loving parents. So where canon Harry bore the weight of the wizarding world on his shoulders, BH Harry has the weight of the Buckston earldom hanging over him. But -- like canon Harry -- he just wants to enjoy his youth, and he feels pressured to grow up too fast (I mean, it's a first world problem, but it's a Regency romance among the landed gentry, so here we are). And I took the canon aspect of Harry idolizing his father's memory, and made that into an insecurity that he could never measure up to James. James is dashing and intelligent and the picture of honor and duty, everything a lord should be. Meanwhile, Harry can't go hunting with his best friend without situational comedy ensuing.

This necessarily brought me to the question of What is James Potter like as a father? Moreover, what is he like as a 19th century father raising a son who will inherit a peerage?

“My father,” he said, reaching for the next limb, “wants me to learn how to be an earl.”

The only response from Ron was mild silence.

“Did you hear me, Weez?”

“I heard you.”

“I’m in a tree — Oh, Christ…” His footing slipped as he clung to a high branch, the side of his leg scraping down the tree trunk before he caught himself. Something snagged on the fabric of his breeches and he pulled himself free, swinging himself to a more stable foothold.

Below him, Ron kept a patient, watchful eye. Harry became rather careless and caper-witted when he was in a mood.

“I’m in a tree, Weez, and I — I’ve torn my goddamned breeches, and he expects me to be an earl!”

Ron wanted to say that surely there must be another set of breeches to be found somewhere in this country, but as Harry was finally talking Ron wisely kept his mouth shut.

“My first London season after reaching my majority, and he says it’s time I learn my Parliamentary duties! He wants me to observe every week! Full sessions! Have you any idea how long those deuced things last??"

James is loving and fair, there's no doubt about that. He still has plenty of fun, as we get a jovial glimpse of him in the prologue. But my James still has Expectations for his son, and he takes his position seriously. Because while we know canon James to be a prankster and rule-breaker, what else do we know about him? We know he's intelligent and capable and brave. We know he's principled. So now age this by about 25 years so that he's in his mid-40's. I can definitely see him taking his duties seriously and wanting Harry to do the same -- and wanting Harry to be noble in spirit and not just in rank. (Is he actually as overbearing as Harry describes him? That remains to be seen. And more information will come out in later chapters, about why James wants Harry to get his act together.)

I'm looking forward to James who gets more and more frustrated each time he learns Harry has done some idiot thing or another in London -- and meanwhile Sirius is sitting there just laughing because he knows exactly what James was like at Harry's age.

I meant to talk about Ron's concerns that we see coming out in this scene about his own future, but this is already hella long, so I won't. But I will conclude with the ending lines of this scene because I love writing Ron's humor. So here's his assessment of their duck-hunting excursion:

They reached the spot where they’d begun their hunt earlier, retrieving their coats that were draped over the branch of a small tree, and Ron assessed the state of himself and Harry — the former still quite damp, his clothes soaked through; and the latter with scuffed boots, torn breeches, dirtied shirtsleeves, and scraped palms.

“Next time, I think, we do rabbits,” Ron quipped darkly.