#any country with a court is going to be way more complicated to learn about than a bunch of small democracies forming one big democracy

[litnerdwrites]

"We don't treat Elain and Nesta the same because Elain Apologised,"

Elain and Nesta aren't the same people. They can't be compared. While I understand that Nesta said some cruel things in that cabin, so did Feyre. While Nesta could've made things a bit easier on all of them, so could Feyre. They both have reasons to apologise to one another, so if you're going to condemn Nesta for not doing so, then Feyre deserves the same treatment.

But if Nesta did want to apologise, what makes you think it would be the second that Feyre got back? And in front of fae, no less. Nesta is complicated character who carries herself with pride and is considered a very private person, and is described as being queen like multiple times. The two have more issues to work through than just a few mean comments, and the moments they have the most sincere heart to hearts, are when they're alone. Without Rhysand peering from behind a door way, listening in and commentating whenever he feels like.

Looking back, in ACOTAR 1, we learn some of the myths humans tell about the Fae including that they can't lie, and they have to and that if you catch one, then it has to tell you what you want to know. Both of those turn out to be false, since fae can lie, and Ianthe caught the Surreal, but we learn in ACOWAR that it wouldn't tell her anything.

We can assume this means that the rules the fae follow in our mythology are the same ones that humans believe about fae in ACOTAR, meaning it's a fair assumption that one of the many stories about fae include never letting yourself be indebted to them. Saying things like 'thank you' or 'I'm sorry' comes across like as owing them something, and Nesta is, at this point, under the impression that doing so will cause the fae to hold it over her head and use to demand things of her for as long as she lives, if not ask something straight up impossible to make her more indebted to them.

On top of that, Feyre just asked her for a favour that could get her and Elain killed. The Mortal Queens could've just decided to have Elain and Nesta arrested and executed for collaborating with fae, or have them exiled even. It wasn't a small thing that Feyre asked for, and basically peer pressured her into, with Elain. So it's understandable that pleasantries and apologies are the last things on her mind, when her and Elain's life could be forfeit at any moment.

Even if Rhysand offers to protect them, what could he do? Nesta's under the impression that the Fae hate humans, look down on them and would treat them horribly if she crossed into their lands. Moreover, she has a whole life there, that they're suggesting she could drop to move to the other end of the country without so much as a message to their father? Or an idea of what's waiting for them? To abandon their home, friends, family and peoeple?

For what? Potential servitude? Amongst creatures she were taught were slave driving monsters? To live under her little sister's rule (cause even if she wasn't HL at this point, as fae, she has significant power over Nesta. Plus the ruler of said land they're offering to take her too openly favours Feyre, and kind of Elain but hates her, so she'd basically still be living by Feyre's whims) for the rest of her short life? Literally what part of that is appealing?

So Nesta not apologising to Feyre at that dinner, makes sense. Our girl had bigger things to worry about. She probably would have if she Feyre didn't outright abandon her to deal with her trauma alone, only showing up when she wanted to parade Nesta around at parties for her own joy, without considering how it feels to her. Or when her court, who don't like her and whom she doesn't like either, show up to insult her, and blame her for having trauma.

If Feyre and Nesta had more moments like the one in the library, or the one all three had after Az and Feyre rescued Elain, Nesta would've likely healed and apologised on her own. If the IC had just stayed out of it, then all three sisters would've figured things out, on their own. The IC just want something to complain about, so like the CON and the HC, they make a problem, and they complain that it exists.

Also, if I remember right, Feyre herself said she wanted to start over at that dinner. So unless Feyre or Nesta want to bring it up or talk about it, why does any of her family get to hold it over her head for the rest of immortality? Feyre literally just called it water under the bridge and all three of them were going through their own shit at the time, so let them actually work through their own issues privately, and I'll bet that they'll solve it on their own within a year.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

the price of power - 01

pairing: mob boss!sebastian stan x wife!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of organised crime and violence

masterlist

Y/N had convinced herself as a young girl not to believe in happy endings, or to believe in them in normal circumstances. At least, not the whole story of the prince coming in saving the damsel in distress and galloping into the sunset. Yet, despite all odds, she found herself happily in love, living in the city of love with who she swore was the best baby someone could have. Life pretty much had developed into a fairytale for her, things were good and even if she thought for a long time, she couldn’t figure out anything she wanted. However, no one told her on her wedding night how to actually be what she had signed up to be. 

     - Hey, you gonna serve or you afraid to lose? - her half-brother called out to her, his racket in hand. 

     - You talk too much, Dan! - she rolled her eyes, throwing up the ball in the air before hitting it with the racket. 

She’d taken up tennis as a suggestion from her husband, well, kind-of. Things over the past year had been complicated, going back to normal and adjusting to a life she’d spent her whole life witnessing from the side-lines wasn’t something easy. Gwen had the training, Gwen knew how a wife of a mob boss should behave, knew how an heiress should behave, what to wear, where to go, how to seek and how to protect herself. Y/N did not. Sure, she’d watched it happen, she’d heard about it and god knows she’d heard Gwen complain about it but now it was her life. All of the danger and the moral and ethical code was now something she suddenly had to master while Gwen jet set around the globe. On top of all that, she had her son and learning to become a mum was something new to her as all. Sebastian did what he could, he guided her through all he could but even he had to admit that some things were just, well, some things were just instilled in you. He’d always tell her that he was raised for the job, it comes naturally to him. Funny how she used to consider that a disadvantage. 

Tennis had just been a way for her to find a normal hobby to do, away from the house. She’d usually bring Nate in his baby carrier and play against one of the ladies in the country club or one of the trainers, but today her brother had decided to visit. He’d told her it was to see his nephew and his sister, but Y/N knew better to believe those were the sole reasons. She did know one thing and that was Dan. She knew he was here because he cared but she knew he was also here at the hand of their father. 

      - So, how’s your husband? - and there it was, her suspicions confirmed. It always started like this, like a carefully crafted dance where he attempted to bring up Sebastian as smoothly as possible. 

      - Good. - she replied with a shrug, hitting the ball with the racket once more.

      - How so?

      - If you want to ask about the job, ask about the job, Dan. Although, you’d be better off asking him than me. 

      - You know how cagey your husband can get. He’d soon tell me his blood type than anything about the business. 

      - Maybe dad should ask him. - she smiled sarcastically. - After all, it is dad who wants to know, isn’t it?

      - Can you blame him for worrying about his kid? - he shot back. - The man finally gets to tell you you’re his kid and you get married, knocked up and move to Paris? At least let him worry. 

      - He’s not worried, he just doesn’t like him. 

      - He is worried and it’s not like Sebastian makes it any easier. You’d think he’d be more open to actually sharing considering you’re his wife and one day you’re gonna fill his shoes.

     - One very distant day. 

     - All I’m saying is, it wouldn’t hurt for him to share with dad what he’s doing every once in a while. Or share it with you.

     - You know ... - she put her racket down. - Next time you say you wanna see your nephew, you might wanna talk about him a lot more before moving onto Sebastian. 

She looked over to the corner of the caged tennis court where she had laid the baby comforter. Nate liked being in the sun, he enjoyed the sounds of the balls hitting the rackets and the grass and would usually doze off after one or two matches. These days he was the one who brought her some sense of normalcy, the sense of having a family which matched the one in 80s sitcoms and parenting books. 

      - You do have an adorable kid. - he sighed. - Can hardly believe half of it came from your husband. 

      - Maybe our family just has really strong adorable genes. 

      - I think that’s just you, sis. You know I’ll go bald just like dad in a few years. That if your husband doesn’t speed up the process. 

      - Sometimes I think you two just like bickering. 

      - Well, sometimes, I think you just like watching us bicker. 

      - It ... - the words died in her throat as she noticed a series of black cars pull up. Odd.

Dan had the same thought, crossing over to her side of the court and following her to the corner where Nate was. She recognised those cars, they belonged to Sebastian and as that thought dawned on her, her heart seemed to stop beating and that buzz which accompanied her frequent anxiety attacks settled in her ears. Men who she equally recognised moved down and towards the court with neutral faces and she hadn’t noticed she had started moving away from them until her back hit her brother’s chest. 

     - Mrs Stan we need to go. - the first one on the court spoke but it didn’t register on her. All her brain could compute about was Sebastian. Was he okay? Why were all these men here? - We need to go. 

     - What’s going on? - Dan spoke up, his arm wrapped protectively around her sister. 

     - We need to go, it’s not safe. 

She wasn’t sure when or how she’d gotten in the car and hadn’t completely come to her senses until it sped up down the road. She looked inside the baby carrier, unbuckling her son from the little chair and bringing him instinctively against her chest before turning to Dan. He didn’t know what to do or how to react, instead he just smiled at her, attempting to calm down his sister but that didn’t appear to work. Her hold tightened against her son, her fingers twiddling with the fabric of his onesie as they brought her back to her house. She didn’t want the door to open, she didn’t want to see what awaited her, she couldn’t ... she didn’t want to see it if it was bad and like a bad joke, her mind could only replay him shot on the ground. She couldn’t ... no, he couldn’t. They would’ve told her, right? They would’ve told her. 

One of the men opened the door for her and she struggled to step in, only doing so when her brother held her hand. Inside, the home looked exactly like she’d left it and as she turned her head towards the living room, she spotted her husband on the phone, walking in circles. Her breathe returned to her in a wave, her heart rate decreasing as she attempted not to cry out of relief that he was ok. He turned his head to meet her, dropping his phone to the ground and rushing to his wife. 

     - Are you alright? - he cupped her face, inspecting it for anything different than the one he’d woken up to this morning. - You’re okay. You’re okay. Nate ok? 

She wasn’t sure if he was speaking to her or if he was reassuring himself. 

     - What’s going on? - Dan crossed his arms. - Just sent your whole army of gorillas to get us and they don’t even say a fucking word?

     - None of your fuckin’ business, Daniel.

     - Seb. - she whispered, holding his hand. - It’s fine, we’re fine. What’s wrong?

    - It’s your dad, angel. 

She should’ve known good thing don’t last for very long. 

////////////////////////

taglist: @buckysteveloki-me​

[kayetra-spade-queen]

Randy Cunningham

The youngest baby Shade of the team. My own Furina-fied child of hyperfixation over theater shows and senses to abide of the law.

Randall Dupont Cunningham

Randall = actual first full first name, people just settles over the nickname (like everyone else)

Dupont = an add-on middle name to give my French-origin headcanon a meaning and reason. Also meaning 'Bridge' in French

Cunningham = I do not need to explain

Relationships:

Mr and Mrs. Cunningham:

The fact that these two barely had any existence in the entire show makes things infuriatingly complicated. They're mentioned, sure, but even when they're mentioned, it didn't give much an impact to the overall show, and they're ended up as characters of the abyss; they exists to some extent, but they have little to no relevance in the entire plot.

Well, I suppose this give me more room to style my way in; a relatively normal family, it's just that none of the parents are aware of their son's heroic deeds and stunts, nor aware he was the then-Norrisvile ninja. When Randy became interested in learning law so suddenly, it came as a huge surprise as Randy is usually isn't so invested in studies, even in his highschool years. Nonetheless, they were pleased that their son had found something he wanted to pursue, and it was also thanks to Randy's own quick learning ability and both parents' endless support that he manage to became a iudex of the country at such a young age.

Howard:

I cannot find anything to change in their relationship. I'd say they're besties through life and death and even after the end of time. Still stuck with each other even after the post-change of ninja. Howard was like Randy's right hand man when he became iudex.

Theresa:

See, I wanted to change a few things in their relationship; I want them to be kept as friends, nothing more, as I am still on the fence whether I should create a whole new character as Randy's love interest or no. I want to think that Theresa didn't know the ninja is Randy until after a little while later, and became a trio along with Randy and Howard afterwards; covering for Randy if he had to go fight while still in the middle of class for example. At some point, she did have a crush on Randy after knowing the ninja is indeed Randy because she had an initial crush on the ninja, but she decided to let go of her feelings in fear that it'll hinder Randy's work. They are still friends to this very day. She's Randy's left hand woman, and the current director of the Phénix Institute.

Danny:

Although with the vast age difference, they get along quite well and are very close. Danny had an immense respect for the younger for his dedication towards his duty as a iudex, the ninja-mentor for emerging new ninjas, and as the current long-lasting ninja himself. Randy also respected the older for his great power and authority over his ghostly court, and felt inspired to do better in his own court. Danny is mostly more amused with the style of how Randy manages his court.

Kim:

Viewed her as a teacher who is willing to help him tackle subjects he never knew he needed in his life. Kim herself is quite fond of the younger for his unique perceptions and views and work ethics, and she found enjoyment teaching the younger some skills that could be very useful and put in a interesting way at the Cour De La Soleil.

Zak:

Acquainted through his former-pen-pal-now-bestie, Ben. Upon first impression, he already admired the older already, and was pleased to gained another friend himself, the same thing could be said to Zak also. Although he would much rather meet him in a more... Favorable circumstances.

Rex:

Was more surprised than anything when he heard from Ben that he started a relationship with someone, but otherwise supportive and happy about it. When they first met (though not in the most pleasant circumstances sure), he was already pleased to meet the very same person who had made his friend happy (also with that same person's talent over magic tricks). Rex was a frequent guest at the Cour De La Soleil courthouse (before becoming a member of Soleil Theater afterwards) after he moved to France to move in with Ben and the children, presenting his magic shows in favor of everyone's entertainment and enjoyment. A few times, they're also partnering up to make extravagant theatrical-magic shows, and many times it became a hit.

First Ninja, Ninjanomicon:

Randy had the mentor-student relationship when it comes to First, while Randy had this weird relationship with Nomicon, cuz like- it's sentient artifact, what relationship is there to be established? Even if Randy tried, it'll be way too difficult with how Nomicon is hella stubborn and vague and all that.

Personality:

Somewhat similar to his personality in original, but had matured since he's now older. Randy actually had a knack for teaching himself in his time mentoring the current-chosen ninjas (as his memories aren't wiped, still kept his ninja abilities, and was completely denied of Ultimate Lesson by Nomicon), and finally understood why Kim and First had the fondness of watching their students/successors learning what they were taught to do.

Surprise to absolutely no one, I also intend to put some of Furina's personality on Randy too (technically she was all acting to the point she doesn't recognized herself anymore for the sake that her nation doesn't fall into calamity, but idk for her now since she's no longer the archon and for her story quest); flamboyant, unpredictable, yet also laid back, but this only happens when he's off from the courthouse and/or are in duty with the Soleil Theater. However, when he's in charge of a case, the whole dramatic flares and laid back energy are gone; replaced in all serious and no-nonsense attitude with no tolerance over those who couldn't abide to the order of his courthouse.

Battle Attire:

Since when in duty with the Shades, he'll have a ninja suit. However, I'll heavily alter it since the style of his previous ninja suit as well as its abilities within the suit is the Norisu-style that can only be worn by the Norrisville ninjas. Ben had to make a whole new ninja suit just for Randy. The red will be replaced with grayish blue.

As for the hair, it grew out throughout the years, so now is about the length of his chest, usually being tied so it wouldn't get in the way. He had blue streaks because of the Heart of Tandem.

(Base: TheCherryMonsterLu (DeviantArt));

Weapons:

Ninja sword

Longclaw sword (depending on fighting style, which this sword heavily relies on his Heart of Tandem powers)

Smoke bombs

Chain sickles

Abilities:

Water manipulation (via Heart of Tandem)

Basically everything he had learned during his time as the Norrisville Ninja

Other Info:

Randy is partial Japanese, but mostly Scottish and France heritage.

Norrisville is, in this version, are located in France, since I need to make it make sense why Randy became Ben's pen pal from France.

However, Norrisville is a city in France that speaks English half of the time. Randy could speak both English and French because it's the mandatory subjects he had during his education.

Randy's role as a "ludex" was completely inspired by both Furina and Neuvillette from Genshin Impact. The title of "ludex" from Neuvillette as the iudex of Fontaine, while almost half of his personality who enjoys theatrical drama and the shining spotlight came from Furina when acting as the hydro archon, except with the whole cursed for 500 years to fool an entire nation and the heavens bit and it was actually part of his personality instead of pretend.

Yes, Randy is still ninja even after 4 years time limit. But there's a reason for it; for one, after his ninja duty is all at Norrisville, instead of facing the Ultimate Lesson, his identity and memories as ninja is still intact for a few reasons, one of them is due to the fact of a new threat outside Norrisville (which is the reason he joined the Shades in the first place). The other because of the involvement of the Heart of Tandem literally appearing right in the middle of the years of Randy being ninja.

Randy is not the Norrisville Ninja (anymore), he's an independent ninja. Still made it secret to the public though.

Randy's Heart of Tandem element is indeed water (how original-). This however, isn't made a secret, and was showcase numerous times in court proceedings as the iudex.

Randy and Ben's relationship could be viewed like Chevreuse and Chiori respectively in a few senses, and that's disregarding the personalities.

I was honestly on the fence about giving Randy a partner (romantic-sense) using my own character, but I have a... Conflicting feelings about it, so I might rely on suggestions more than myself.

With the appearance of the Heart of Tandem in the middle of his years of being a ninja, things went on a completely different turn that took the attention of First and Nomicon. A lot of things went off course, from the whole aspect of memory-wipe after the Ultimate Lesson, the usage of powers and talents, everything went very differently. If Randy proceed with the Ultimate Lesson, not only he'll lose all of his memories of being ninja, he'll eventually lose every memory that had stems him as a person, losing his sense of self, making his body only a shell without anything inside, and that's without mentioning the other catastrophe it could caused.

[arizonaconservativegal]

Even though this was around the time of the Roman Empire to quote Tacitus “The more corrupt the state, the more laws.” That is true even today as I see the supreme court and all branches of the government are corrupt and that is how the dems run this country to the ground.

So here's the thing I've learned about corruption while working for the government: it rarely looks so blatant as an under the table pay off or quid pro quo agreement. It usually begins with good intentions (what's that they say about the road to hell?). There are a couple ways this usually goes:

Scenario #1: The Never Ending Problem

Someone gets hired to solve a problem for the public

They solve that problem

Oh shit, now there's no need for them to continue to be employed

Understandably, they would like to continue to be employed

Now they have to find justifications for why they should continue to be employed

"Oh wait, that was just Step 1," "this problem won't really be solved until we do this," & "but we can't do that until we do this"

Well wait, this is a really important issue and we need to make sure it's solved but if it's going to require all that, we probably should hire this person some more help

Now all those people would like to continue to be employed long term

Hey lookie here, we got a one-time grant from the feds or someone to hire an extra person to help with this! It's free money, so we might as well do it!

Oh wait now that person also wants to be a permanent employee

And we clearly can't cut any of these positions because this is a really important issue and we are taking it very seriously

Just to show how seriously we are taking it, we're going to hire two more people to work on it!

Result: we must hire more an endless stream of bureaucrats to continually address what was only a one-time problem to begin with and they spend all their time writing new and updated regulations that the rest of us have to spend time and money trying to follow

Things to look for: impossible standards, unspecified metrics, hiring government employee on a temporary-but-soon-becomes-permanent basis, and hiring more staff instead of putting the cost of their salaries into the things the last round of hires suggested we do to solve the problem

Scenario #2: In Which Transparency Backfires

In an effort to stop politicians from hiring their friends at an inflated cost, government implements public processes for determining what goods and services they will purchase and from whom

Obviously we want extensive documentation for why we selected any particular company to do business with, so companies will need to fill out long and detailed forms explaining their product and costs

Unfortunately that is very expensive for companies to do and they have no guarantee of winning the contract so they jack up their price to account for this

Also we can't make any snap decisions so the review process is going to take months

And not every company can afford to wait around that long on a maybe so most of the more cost effective ones drop out of the process

Oh and if there's a company we've worked with before, we obviously have a lot more documentation on them so in the interest of transparency, we're more likely to pick them again

And maybe we even write our contract requirements so that those guys get a bit of an edge because we want them to win because we've worked with them before and we like them and also look how transparent that makes us

Oh look the contract reached its expiration date and oh gee, we really need this service and don't really have time to go through that whole review process again....

Let's just extend the contract another year or two and worry about re-bidding it later

Result: the same one or two companies get every contract and they cost two or three times as much and do a worse job

Things to look for: prohibitively long and complicated and often oddly specific proposal requirements, history of business with government being a key factor in scoring, cost not actually being a significant factor, after the fact changes to cost or scope of contracts

In the end, government always gets bigger. It always gets more complicated. It always gets slower. It always gets more expensive. And it very rarely delivers more of what anyone really wants.

[azenkii]

A Long List of Trash Fire Lord Zuko Headcanons

...that i couldn't get out of my head:

(warning: SUPER LONG POST i havent figured out how to trim posts yet)

he's the one who unchains azula despite iroh's protests. she doesn't even try to fight him, just cries into his shoulder and keeps mumbling about how father's going to be so disappointed in her. he takes her to her rooms and has her drink a sleeping draught, then stations the best guards he has left outside her chambers.

his first council meeting takes place literally a day after sozin's comet. he hobbles into the council chamber shirtless with his entire torso covered in bandages and every council member just looks at him like '...what'

he does NOT sleep for like,,a week after sozin's comet and then another two weeks after his coronation. katara, aang and suki try to persuade him to sleep and he doesn't listen. eventually sokka, toph and mai team up to literally drag his ass to bed and tell him he's not allowed to get up until he sleeps (does mai pin him to the bed with her knives? yes. is it kinky or sexual in any way? definitely not.)

he drinks So. Much. Tea. at this point it's practically tasteless to him but he drinks it anyway because he just needs something to do and tea is something familiar. he keeps iroh on his toes because he's constantly asking for new tea blends, uncle, i think i actually tasted the last one,

he flat-out refuses to grow his hair for at least a year after ozai's defeat. the second it starts getting close to his chin he shears it off himself, with his knife, and his stylist has a heart attack every single time

when he's tired he'll occasionally jump up when one of his guards moves. it stops after a bit, but for the first month and a half or so he's really twitchy. when sokka asks, the only explanation he can come up with is that he's not used to having people stand behind him silently and not want to kill him, much less want to protect him (sokka immediately takes him out for a shopping trip and makes a point of walking behind him the entire time, but only on zuko's right side, where he can clearly see it if sokka moves towards him)

when the healer declares azula mentally unstable and in need of an institution, he shuts himself in his office for the rest of the night. no one's allowed in, not even iroh. he finally emerges in the morning, eyes red from crying and sleep deprivation, and tells the librarian that he'd like a list of the best mental institutions in the country, please, the best in the world if you can get them

he loves theatre (is this even a headcanon?). unfortunately it practically died out in the fire nation along with the rest of the creative arts, leaving nothing but small troupes like the ember island players. one of zuko's personal goals (meaning things he wants to accomplish that aren't as important as restoring his country) is to bring back theatre; he finally manages to do it after about eight months or so of being fire lord, along with other arts like dancing, music and sculpture

he establishes a national day of mourning, on the first day of autumn every year, to commemorate the genocide of the air nomads. from 100AG onwards, every calendar printed in the fire nation has it marked. at first it was called the day of repentance, but aang persuaded him to have it changed (by arguing that he didn't want guilt to be a literal staple of fire nation culture)

he introduces literally So Many educational reforms, plus a mandatory class that teaches students about the cultures of the other nations (air nomads included) and how some of their traditions overlap

he turns down the offer of having a statue put up of him in the capital. toph ignores him and does it anyway.

he visits azula regularly, makes sure she's (relatively) comfortable and well-fed, and sometimes just sits down outside her door and tells her about everything that's going on right now ('some of the far colonies have developed their own standardised writing, azula, you wouldn't believe it, and i've asked the fire sages to come visit more often—but you never liked them, did you? oh, well; i'll make sure none of them go into your chambers by mistake')

(he doesn't know it, but when he does this azula sits by the door and listens. she wonders what kind of writing the colonists have developed, and whether or not the fire sages have taken on some new recruits.)

he hates being above anyone else. never sits in the throne if he can help it, nor does he sit on the dais in the council room. when he talks to people shorter than him, he finds himself stooping a little bit to talk to them on their level (the exception to this rule is sokka, who he mocks for being shorter all the way up until sokka grows taller than him, the bastard)

the first time he visits the earth kingdom, the earth king's ministers call a toast. he ends up being the only one who has to sit out, because he's too young to drink by earth kingdom law

once his servants figure out he won't kill them for talking to him, they start becoming a lot more bold, telling him off when he doesn't take care of himself. at one point, they force him to let them take care of him so much that he literally just bolts into the gardens and hides there until the staff rope in mai and ty lee

when he needs to escape, he does one of two things: (a) he dresses up as the blue spirit and does some parkour until he calms down, or (b) he goes to work at the jasmine dragon. (b) happens less often bc the jasmine dragon's in ba sing se, but there's been a few memorable incidents when an earth kingdom diplomat walks in and yells, 'LEE?!' when they see the fire lord

the first court artist who draws him also happens to be the one who drew azulon and ozai. he draws zuko without his scar. zuko takes one look at it and tells him, very calmly, that he'd like him to leave, please.

zuko burns the portrait. he doesn't fire the court artist, but he never calls on him again unless he has to. a second court artist is called, and can't help but be a bit confused when the fire lord tells him to be sure to include the scar

he forgets the crown. a lot. sometimes he walks into council meetings in his sleepwear with his hair tied up in a messy ponytail and a bunch of scrolls tucked under his arm. none of his councilmen have the guts (or the heart) to tell him that this is not, in fact, formal council wear

he goes to feed the turtleducks when he's stressed. he thinks he's being subtle. he's not. the entire palace knows, and they consciously give him space when they see him in the turtleduck garden

most of his staff are older than him, so they look at him and see this teeny tiny fire lord who is So Small and who Must Be Protected. the day after zuko's coronation, the head chef holds a meeting where they commence Operation Do-Not-Let-That-Boy-Turn-Out-Like-His-Father (subsection He's-The-Only-Good-Thing-We-Have)

one night he wakes up to find suki sitting in his room, decked out in full kyoshi warrior garb and makeup, and just about screams blue murder. suki tells him there are suspicions of an assassin in the palace, and would you please stop yelling it's very distracting, we won't be able to hear anyone coming over that racket

zuko gets very, very paranoid of random spirits after that. yeah, suki looks like a possibly malevolent spirit when she's wearing her makeup, what about it? (when he tells sokka he's highkey terrified of spirit shenanigans, sokka just looks at him and says, 'man, the stories i could tell...', and THAT'S when zuko remembers sokka spent like six months more than he did travelling with the avatar)

on his first visit to the southern water tribe, he removes his boots and leg guards, rolls up his pants and kneels barefoot in the snow. even though chief hakoda immediately starts trying to pull him up, he's stubborn as hell and stays kneeling for the entirety of his very long, very sincere apology-on-behalf-of-the-fire-nation speech. he nearly loses his toes to frostbite after that, and both sokka and katara never stop giving him shit for it

the first time he grows a 'beard' is completely accidental. he's stressed over some trade miscommunications with chief hakoda, hasn't slept in a few days...and then when sokka arrives as water tribe ambassador to help smooth things over, he takes one look at zuko and says 'man, facial hair does not suit you'

zuko: facial what now

he checks a mirror to find that he's got stubble covering his chin, dark enough that it almost looks intentional, and holy gods how the fuck did he not notice this before

'UNCLE WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME' 'i assumed you were doing it on purpose' 'WHEN HAVE I EVER DONE ANYTHING ON PURPOSE'

he shaves it all off immediately, of course, which prompts a lot of teasing and rib-poking from sokka until zuko finally snaps that he's scared it'll make him look like his father. sokka stops after that.

(the day after sokka leaves, zuko finds that a mysterious someone has scribbled all over ozai's royal portrait, giving him a frankly ridiculous beard and moustache that literally CANNOT be grown in real life. oddly enough, he can't bring himself to care about the defamation of royal property. he's too busy laughing.)

his paths cross with toph and sokka more than any of the others, because sokka is ambassador and toph is technically still a beifong. most of the time, at formal functions, he ends up sequestered in the corner with toph and a hoard of snacks, and they talk and swear much more than they usually do (zuko's ministers once heard him when he was drunk with toph, and the servants swear the older ministers' ears started bleeding)

he restores fire nation cultural festivals, and in doing so subjects himself to learning a lot of complicated dances

during one memorable week, he wrote so many letters and drafted so much legislation that he ran out of paper. he had to go visit the nearest school and ask for some

he keeps up with his firebending and sword training even though it's hard to fit into his schedule. his ministers refrain from reminding him that he has guards to protect him now; it's still hard for zuko to trust his safety with anyone but himself (team avatar is the exception).

he started sleepwalking about two months into his reign. no one knew why. one time, he nearly sleepwalked right off the edge of a balcony, and one of his guards had to grab him by the back of his robes.

the sleepwalking stopped after around a month and never happened again. at this point it's practically palace legend.

after freeing the war prisoners, he went around collecting every single earthbender-proof wooden cell he could find in the capital and surrounding areas. when he'd gotten most of them, he gathered them into a huge pile in the city square and set fire to them with his own hands.

unfortunately he couldn't do that with the waterbender metal cells but he did get toph to come in and bend them all into pretty shapes (well, toph thought they were pretty shapes. everyone else thinks they're meaningless squiggles)

he learned how to write with both hands at the same time out of sheer necessity (he refused scribes until it became clear that he'd be putting some people out of a job; that was when he started letting scribes write very, very minor things, but all important documents/drafts/letters are still written by him)

he once put the wet end of an ink brush in his mouth instead of the wooden end by mistake. didn't even realise until he bit down to keep it in place and ink went oozing everywhere

when his guards rushed in to find him coughing and spluttering black liquid all over his desk they thought he'd been poisoned but no he's just stupid

on his 17th birthday, his first one after being crowned, he got tackled by team avatar in the middle of the ballroom and ended up at the bottom of a cuddlepile for like ten minutes

this cuddlepile happened at an event that was very much public and very much formal. it was a scandal for weeks

just. fire lord zuko, guys. so much potential

[justwritedreams]

Kings | Haechan

Chapter Two: Meeting the Nobility

Haechan x reader, Jeno x reader, royalty!au

Word count: 2841 Genre: fluff, drama Author: maari Warnings: mentions of very old and embarassing practice of marriage consummation, the queen being a little scary, the reader feeling quite guilty. Note: the second chapter it’s here!! I know i'ts a short chapter, I promise it will get better in the future. Summary: It's time to be introduced as the future queen while you try to fit in the noble life. << Previous | Masterlist | Next >>

It has been four days that I was at Taegoji's castle and my head felt like it was going to explode with so much to do, I never thought that a queen had little work but not even in my wildest dreams could imagine that I would be next, especially the queen of Taegoji.  And there was an issue that didn't make me sleep well: the child I carried in my womb. I had been trying to adapt as best I could, but it was really hard work to reconcile all that, this sudden change. After I worked up the courage to hand over Suyon, I tried not to think about what people would say about me and how they would react to knowing I wasn't a princess, a duchess or a blue-blooded noble.These were things that I couldn't get out of my head no matter how hard I tried. Haechan had been helping me a lot with my adaptation, but it wasn't enough, I felt so lost and out of place. Everything was going very fast, it was true, however I couldn't waste any more time, I was pregnant and soon the belly would appear. I didn't want to hide it, I hated lies, and when Haechan proposed the revenge plan I was tempted to tell him what had really happened, but I didn't know how he would react, not after he'd showered praise on my courage. He could accept or he could kick me out, and then my situation would get much more complicated. Of course, I had gone to Taegoji because I knew the rivalry between the Lee family and the fact that I had important information would allow them to prepare for the blood battle that Jeno agrees to follow and I would get revenge, but I confess I never imagined that Haechan would make this proposal to me, to be his wife and queen. Me, a foreigner in Taegoji's land. But when he offered me protection, I had to accept it not for myself, but for my son. I was doing all that to save him. He would not serve Suyon. Never.

To my dismay, I was obliged to accompany my fiancé and his lovely mother to the wedding of one of the Lords of Parliament. Haechan had quickly told me that Lord Kim had lost his wife years ago, due to a terrible plague that had hit Taegoji at the time, and he had an overwhelming desire to remarry after realizing he needed someone. I'm not sure why but the nobility loved having a reason to celebrate and a wedding was certainly the perfect opportunity to do so, especially because the entire press was here, would be officially photographed alongside Haechan as his fiancée. The wedding took place in the cathedral next to the castle and the party would take place in the main hall, courtesy of the queen. She told me to pay close attention because my marriage to Haechan would be similar. I was afraid, I couldn't deny that fact, the Queen herself was organizing the wedding, according to her I wasn't prepared enough to make my marriage worthy of the nobility. I didn't blame her, I really wasn't ready for anything. I helped with the food harvest in Suyon with my parents in a simple and humble house, taking care of a country like Taegoji wouldn't be the same.

"Don't be so nice, not everyone deserves your smile." The Queen spoke as soon as she saw me smiling politely at the court guards. I stayed silent, trying to absorb all the things she was saying to me all the way to the hall. When Haechan told me that I would be taking etiquette lessons from the Queen I didn't think they were about everything, even the way of blinking, but it was something I was still learning and I didn't know if I could get it in such a short time. Haechan noticed that she had silenced me and held my hand gently. "Don't be afraid of my mother." whispered in my ear, I had to hide it to answer it. "It's not her I'm afraid of." downstairs were all the nobles of Taegoji's court, the same kind that I once served as a maid, they would look at me and judge every step I took, I would be formally introduced as the future Queen and they would pay attention to every word I said. Pictures would be taken, headlines would be made about me. Good and bad. And the worst, rumors would reach the other side of the border, the nobility of Suyon would know everything. Just like Jeno. My mother-in-law was definitely the least of my problems.

We walked down the stairs slowly and all eyes turned to us, I could see so many feelings pass through so many people's faces. Gratitude, joy, anger, envy, enchantment. Haechan held my hand tight and I was shaking, I usually didn't have the nobility staring at me like that. I had always gone unnoticed, but now it was different. I wondered how Haechan had managed to live with that since the day he was born. It was suffocating in a way I couldn't describe. I was introduced to Haechan's maternal uncles and cousins, I would hardly see the paternal part there and that made me a little less worried. No chance of bumping into Jeno. I was trying to make a good impression, remembering all the rules the queen had dictated during all afternoons in the last few days. The conversations didn't last long as the ceremony began earlier than expected. It would be a lie if I said that I paid attention to every moment and every ritual that existed only in the wedding of the nobility. Many things were going through my head, I was only present in body because in soul, I was somewhere else. "We'll be there soon, are you ready?" Haechan asked softly, such an act made me smile without even noticing. "You're?" I return the question as low as he did. To be honest, I didn't have a concrete answer to that. Not when the wedding was just days away and because I knew it wouldn't be just any wedding. Things would happen after we exchanged rings and after we were crowned. Haechan was silent and I could tell he laughed. Maybe he was worth marrying after all. He was trying to create a bond, an intimacy in such a natural way that I wanted to know who he really was. He wanted to put me at ease. And well, I couldn't help but admire his beauty. His brown skin glowed even in the low lights of the cathedral, I really wondered how someone could be so handsome and elegant at the same time. The ceremony had been quick and so beautiful, I would have cried if I'd paid enough attention. Haechan and I went to greet the bride and groom with the Queen, even after so many wines she didn't leave. "Lord Kim." Haechan hugged him warmly and smiled at that. "Haechan, my little boy." He patted Haechan on the back. "I want you to be very happy, you deserve it more than anyone. Know that you can count on us when you need it." his wife gave a small bow of her head and Lord Kim smiled gratefully. "Thank you, young man." the eldest took the Queen's hand and kissed it cordially. "Your Majesty, you're more beautiful than the last time we saw each other. "Thank you so much Kim, but today the beauty is especially in your wife. May you be happy." the Queen sounded sincere and I wondered how many times she spoke in that sweet tone. “Lord Kim, I want to introduce you to my fiancée, Y/N.” Haechan rested his hand on my waist and I held my hand out to him, who kissed it subtly. "Our future Queen." he noted and his wife smiled at me. They made such a cute couple. "Welcome, Y/N." "Thank you." I smile shyly. “My sincere wishes for happiness and prosperity, the ceremony was very beautiful.” I hoped I was being polite enough. Haechan patted my back and smiled at me as I looked at him, I think that was a positive sign. We didn't spend so much time monopolizing the bride and groom, after all, half the salon hadn't talked with them. Camera flashes followed us from all sides, I could hear rumbles around the room and tried my best to ignore them. The party was divine. It was nice to see the unique way of partying of the nobles of Taegoji, the joy in their dances took over the place, they were more heated than I was used to.  But it was only when a slow song started to play that I noticed that they were also intense people, seeing the bride and groom who danced with a boundless grace. I only noticed that I was staring too long when a male hand with some rings stopped in front of me and I couldn't hide my smile when I saw Haechan there. "Would you like to dance with me?" he asked with a charming smile on his face that I couldn't deny, even though dancing wasn't my strong point, I joined my hand in his and he led me to the center of the room, along with the other couples who were dancing there. He held my waist firmly but still being gentle, I almost lost my breath when I saw his face so close to mine. Haechan made me put my free hand on his shoulder. In Suyon people didn't even show any affection in public, we were as cold as the weather. "You don't seem comfortable with this dance." he laughed as we twirled around the room. "It's different in Suyon, we're not used to being this… close." I explained. "Yeah, I know, it's a pretty dull dance." he commented, making me laugh. I couldn't disagree with that, not when compared to their dancing. Haechan stared at me in such a cozy way that I couldn't look away even though I was embarrassed. It felt like coming home on a Friday. "I hope you're enjoying the party, ours will be better." "I can't imagine anything better than that." I admitted. "I know it's not a topic you can be happy about, but I was thinking of scheduling the coronation next month." he commented and I was silent, nothing scared me more than the mention of the coronation. "That way we'd have time for our honeymoon." I take back what I said, my honeymoon scared me even more. "About the honeymoon," I began, feeling myself starting to sweat. "I… well I…" damn it wasn't the first time I'd tried to tell Haechan I wasn't a virgin anymore but I never could. He had been so sincere and so helpful at me that the least I could do was be honest with him. Haechan had reached out to me at a time when no one would help me, quite the contrary. I didn't want to lie. "I know." he simply spoke and I froze. "You do?" my heart was racing as fast as the day I first saw him. "It must be hard for you to think through the details of a honeymoon." "What?" "I can imagine how difficult it must be for you who are, well, a virgin." he whispered the last word, seeing that no one was paying attention. "But don't worry, it won't be that bad." assured and I felt a lump in my throat. "Have you…" I shook my head as if gesturing not to say the word. "I imagine you know the answer." he didn't need to say anything else, I mean, did he still have something to say? I lost the courage to say that he was wrong about me, I wasn't that innocent after all. Even if I've only been with one man and it's only been one night where I've been completely disgraced. We only stopped dancing when the music stopped, giving the air a more lively one, I wouldn't risk dancing that one after all. I was surprised to have managed to dance so close to Haechan without tripping over my own heels but I wouldn't be lucky the second time. He excused himself to talk to some men who were with the groom, so I concluded that they were important people. I looked around the entire room, I couldn't see any person or group that could join in and become friendly, the queen chatted with extremely elegant ladies and I preferred to stay out of her way. I wasn't ready for that yet. So I decided to stay in the hallway that led to the main entrance of the hall, outside the party. I was watching the stars when I heard some whispers. "Stop with this crazy idea, if we get caught..." "Royalties will be too busy in there." "Exactly, they won't notice us." I decided to approach and see who they were, although I could tell from the way they spoke. "We're not spying, end of story." it might be dark but I would recognize the faces, having told myself I had to memorize them. "Hayun, Minji, Bora." I called out to them, seeing their expressions change to panic. "Who do you want to spy on?" "Miss, it's not what it looks like." Hayun started, taking a step towards me. "We can explain." Bora continued. "Look what you've done." Minji shook her head. The three were the maids who were taking care of me, Haechan assured them they were completely trustworthy. "It wasn't quite what it looked like." Bora tried to look for the right words while Hayun shivered. "I'm not sure what it looked like to you, Bora, but to me you were planning something." I crossed my arms, I wasn't mad, I just wanted to know what was going on. "Miss, it's all a big misunderstanding." Minji scolded them both before looking at me. "Hayun and Bora wanted… God, I can't believe I'll have to admit it out loud. They wanted to spy on the act of consummation of the marriage." her voice was so low with embarrassment that I had to pay close attention to what she was saying. "What?" they lowered their heads the moment I asked. "They wanted to spy..." "I heard what you said, Minji." interrupted. "I just didn't understand why." "It's just that we hear stories that royalty does it differently than we do." Hayun kept her head down. "We just wanted to know what it was like." Bora confessed. "I don't understand, how can it be different from…" I couldn't finish the sentence, I wasn't used to talking about such intimate matters with someone. "I've heard that all of the nobility stay inside the room while the couple, well, have their first night. To make sure the marriage is really done," Bora spoke in a low tone and her gaze remained on the floor. I had to blink a few times to understand what she had said. Was this serious? I thought this was a practice from centuries past. For a kingdom as modern as Taegoji, I had no idea that this sort of thing still happened. "Stay away from anything that causes you trouble." I asked and walked away from there when I saw the queen coming towards me. "Where were you? Did you miss serving royalty?" she asked rudely as she dragged me by the arm. “The consummation will happen soon.” "But I don't want to watch it." I said quietly, just the mention of the word made me feel ashamed. "And who says you can watch? You're not noble, shouldn't you." I sighed in relief as I heard the queen speak. I had never enjoyed being a commoner as much as I did at that moment. Haechan was in the center of the hall and stopped when saw me being carried away by his mother. "Mother, my bride can walk alone." he spoke a little annoyed. "Yeah, walk back to the kitchen." She replied and stopped me in front of her son. "I'm going to the bedroom." She warned and Haechan just nodded, turning back to look at me. "Sorry I can't escort you to the room but tradition dictates..." "I know." I interrupted him with a slight smile. "As long as I don't have to go, it's okay." "This is not something you should fear." He laughed. "It's not that… it's just" I looked around to make sure no one would hear. "I didn't really like the idea of having an audience." I could feel my face heat up and Haechan's eyes stare at me. "And you think you'll worry about that when you'll be in my arms?" he answered softly, close to my ear and I felt a shiver run through my whole body. No, definitely not.

[namelessayakashi]

Merlin/Arthur Fic Rec List

This is going to be a long post, so the recs start blow the cut!

I wanted to make a fic rec list!! So, here I am. Should be doing my uni homework that's due tonight but I am a terrible procrastinator.

I will probably make another one later on when I have more time that is more organized, but this one is in no particular order.

Last Updated 23 Sept. 2021

Also, quickly, a big thank you to @kickassfu for the making gif above for this post, ilysm Maf!!

Onto the fics!

Unsaid Love by AeonTheDimensionalGirl

Rating: Teen & Up

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Type: Return Fic; Angst with a Happy Ending

Wordcount: 4,022

Quick Summary: Songfic for the song Unsaid Emily from Julie & the Phantoms. Follows Merlin through the years as every century on Arthur's birthday more and more of a song is revealed to him when he goes to sleep. [Regency setting fic]

-- I am still not over this fic of @aeonthedimensionalgirl's, this fic is literally incredible. It is so good. I recommend reading it with Unsaid Emily playing on repeat in the background.

The Wisdom Of The Ages by tehfanglyfish

Rating: Teen & Up

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Type: Fluff; Getting Together

Wordcount: 4,200

Quick Summary: "Saving Arthur while disguised as Dragoon the Great was all well and good until the king decided the old sorcerer deserved a reward. On the run from Arthur, Merlin finds sanctuary in an elderly women's social club. What was supposed to be a one-time visit becomes a regular part of Merlin's week, as he returns each Friday to discuss recipes, commiserate about aches and pains, and lament the state of his love life." - Summary directly from AO3

-- Such a good fic, honestly, like. Merlin befriends Camelot's elderly ladies. Need I say more? It's great.

Forgetful Days by OnceFutureEmrys

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: None Apply

Type: Fluff; Modern AU

Wordcount: 620

Quick Summary: "Arthur is very forgetful. Luckily, Merlin is there to help." - Summary directly from AO3

-- Seriously, @oncefutureemrys this fic is so cute and it's just great, def recommend it

Home in Your Arms by OnceFutureEmrys

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: None Apply

Type: Pining; Fluff; Modern AU

Wordcount: 1,574

Quick Summary: "Arthur is missing Merlin when when he hears someone knocking on the door..." - Summary directly from AO3

-- Yes, another one from OFE, because I love her and her fics. This fic is so sweet, it is a modern University AU!

Ink On A Page by Hisa_Ai

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: None Apply

Type: Pining; Fluff

Wordcount: 2,170

Quick Summary: Merlin writes his feelings on parchment, because if they are on paper, they are just words on a page, and not really his and didn't hold any meaning. One day Arthur notices him writing on one of these pieces of parchment.

-- Literally so beautiful. I loved this fic so much, and I recommend it so much. It is a canon era confessions fic, and it's just so good.

Fool Me Once by CaffeinatedFlumadiddle

Rating: Teen & Up

Archive Warning: Author Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Type: Humor; Magic Revealed; Dark Humor

Wordcount: 18, 728

Quick Summary: "Uther finds out about Merlin’s magic, but can’t seem to kill him. Merlin is just trying to protect Arthur. They become a begrudgingly effective duo. Arthur doesn't understand why they think he isn't noticing this." - Summary directly from AO3

-- I mean, can I just recommend this entire series? Seriously, the series this fic is in is just--excellent. I love this fic. It has Immortal Merlin and Uther Knowing about his magic. Seriously, though, just this series is amazing ahah Exceptionally Exceptional, Calling the Middleman, Returning the Favor, In Which Arthur Lets a Sorcerer Live and Regrets It, just to name a few, are incredible and I definitely recommend reading them.

for my beating heart is far too small for the entirety of my love for you by kickassfu

Rating: Teen & Up

Archive Warning: None Apply

Type: Fluff; Established Relationship

Wordcount: 1,566

Quick Summary: Arthur is trying to learn a little magic to surprise Merlin at his coronation after their wedding.

-- So, I actually gave @kickassfu the prompt for this one. And oh my gods. How they did it? So soft, sweet. It is so good, and I 100% recommend you check it out!

That’s my Man by AeonTheDimensionalGirl

Rating: Teen & Up

Archive Warning: None Apply

Type: Emotional Hurt/Comfort; Magic Revealed; Arranged Marriage; Angst with a Happy Ending

Wordcount: 2,287

Quick Summary: "By ancient, prophesied law, Arthur Pendragon must wed Emrys.

Problem is no one knows who they are." - Summary directly from AO3

-- I told you Aeon would be on here again! Love this fic so much. Love magic reveals, love arranged marriages. Seriously, this is great.

the house is flooded (as is his heart) by powered_by_notes

Rating: Teen & Up

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Type: Domestic Fluff; Return Fic

Wordcount: 2,281

Quick Summary: Arthur leaves to do some work in town, and Merlin runs into a bit of trouble with the cottage and their chickens while he's gone.

-- They have chickens. Enough said. No but really, this is so good, they live in a cottage and they have chickens and I definitely recommend this fic.

Emrys the Really, Truly Terrible by lindenwaverly

Rating: Teens & Up

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Type: Magic Reveal, Emrys Reveal

Wordcount: 15,241

Quick Summary: Arthur has repealed the ban on magic, but Merlin still hasn't come clean about his identity. The issue comes in where, Arthur wants Emrys to be his Court Sorcerer

-- literally. cackled. this is so great, i loved this one. i read it in the morning and do not regret it one bit. some of the dialogue just killed me. it's a great fic, and you should definitely read it.

Arthur Pendragon's Business Judgment Rule by oddishly

Rating: Teen & Up

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Type: Woke Up Married

Wordcount: 27,459

Quick Summary: "Arthur and Merlin wake up married. Camelot is in the middle of treaty negotiations with a visiting king. It's okay, Arthur has a plan." - Summary directly from AO3

Lord Drake's Bequest by Pennyplainknits

Rating: Mature

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Type: Modern Era, Fake Relationship

Wordcount: 9,966

Quick Summary: " "To my great-nephew Arthur I bequeath Tintagel Distribution, wholly and without reserve, save for one condition. You must marry, and stay married, for a period of no less than six months. You're a wonderful businessman Arthur, but a full life needs love and companionship, not just a string of affairs. Settle down young Arthur, and your life will be the richer for it." " - Summary directly from AO3

of all things magic, a cerulean haze by powered_by_notes

Rating: Teen & Up

Archive Warning: None Apply

Type: Magic Reveal

Wc: 7,092

Summary: "When Arthur goes missing, Merlin goes off on his own searching for him. He knows to look for things that the others simply do not and has things at his disposal that the others, again, simply do not.

. . .Magical things, of course.

In all his power, worry, anger, and relentless searching, he has no idea the missing king is being shown all the things that Merlin is doing with that power.

. . .Magical things, of course." - Summary directly from AO3

-- Loved this sm. Gods, I was supposed to read this ages ago, but only FINALLY just found the time to last night and it was so great. Arthur is kidnapped while out doing smth for Merlin and it's just really good.

On the Run by Sorceressofdragons

Rating: E

Archive Warnings: None Apply

Type: Modern AU

Wordcount: 18,155

Summary: After an unsuccessful attempt on their lives, new neighbours Arthur and Merlin decide to take off into the woods. Their destination is Morgana’s country estate, but these two city boys don’t know anything about survival—so if the foxes don’t get them, the lack of Monster Munch might. Featuring sex mishaps, weird food, walking in circles, and some obligatory cuddling. Oh, and Merlin is hung. - Summary directly from AO3

-- fucking KILLED me. This was just -- it was great. Literally, from the start I SWORE i knew the who and why only to discover I was totally off with the *why* and it was fantastic.

Hear Your Heart Sing (Love, Love, Love) by schweet_heart

Rating: Mature

Archive Warnings: None Apply

Type: Soulmate Au, Modern Au

Wordcount: 15,834

Summary: Merlin used to like the idea of finding The One – until he fell in love with Arthur Pendragon. Now he has a boss he can't date (but can't stop thinking about), a soulmate he can't find (who has terrible taste in music), and a best friend who can't believe he still hasn't got his act together (even though it's seriously not his fault).Sometimes, life is unfairly complicated, even without your soulmate singing painfully catchy tunes in the back of your head. - Summary directly from AO3

-- This one was just great. The soulmates, the songs, the misunderstandings--it was great. I loved this one.

Note to Idiot by tinylilremus

Rating: Teen & Up

Archive Warnings: None Apply

Type: Harry Potter AU, Modern AU

Wordcount: 9,762

Summary: Arthur and Merlin are members of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad who work different shifts and share the same office. Arthur, who works the day shift, can't stand the rain. Merlin, who works the night shift, can't concentrate without it.

When they both get tired of changing the weather in the magical window in their underground office, is there a more British way to settle their differences than with a few passive-aggressive memos? - Summary directly from AO3

-- HP AU! A Ministry AU at that! I literally. I loved this so much. Merlin & Arthur are both in the AMRS, different shifts, and it's just hnsdsjdkh it's so good. Really, it's great. And we get to see them on the job a bit!!! Which is fun. This one is def a great one to read, esp if you like HP AUs

as stated previously, this list is being frequently updated with more fics!!!

[isabeljkim]

LN: Homecoming is Just Another Word for the Sublimation Of The Self

DO NOT READ UNLESS YOU HAVE READ THE STORY HERE.

People assume that Homecoming is autobiographical or reflects my emotions in that the main character’s perspective is my own. I think this happens a lot when someone writes Immigrant Narratives, and I have a hard time saying “hey people shouldn’t do that” because I also think that a lot of time the application of the self into the story is true. But when people have talked to me about Homecoming, they’ve assumed a specific background/state of mind for me which isn’t necessarily accurate. 

It’s a pretty personal story for me in that I dropped a lot of cosmetic details about my history into the story, but not a personal story for me in that I don’t think it reflects any sort of immigrant angst that I feel, only sort of a clean desire to explain to those who have non-diaspora lives that diaspora is complicated and people don’t always feel the way you think they should feel about it. My goal with the story was to really just drive home the thesis that diaspora is messy, you don’t get to choose who you become, the line between foreigner and homeland is thin, America is like a worm that gets into your brain, please experience being uncomfortable for 6000 words, I am not here to play.

I feel a weird need to disclose that I’m not technically an immigrant. Everyone who reads this assumes I am, but I was born in NJ, and my parents lived in the states for 20 years before they had me…but I spent a lot of my childhood in Korea because my dad got a job in Korea right before I was born. I spent the first ten years of my life shuttling between California and Korea because he was a professor at universities in both countries, though I went to school in Korea. I call myself 1.5 gen, haha. I’m an edge case. 

This story was one of those cases where I wrote something kind of sad and I thought “this isn’t that sad” and everyone I showed it to was like “dude this is sad as shit” and I was like “oh is it sad?” because I considered the story more about the tension between the decisions about your life that you get to choose, versus the ones that are chosen for you, and I didn’t feel that was particularly sad as much as it is one of the clean realities of life: a lot of the choices that create who you are get made for you. 

I wrote this story because I felt that I hadn’t read any immigrant/second generation narratives that talked about the tension between the fact that we live in a global world and it’s not hard anymore to return places, held against the fact that you can never actually return to somewhere you last left, and the compounding fact the person you are has changed in the intervening time so that they would be unrecognizable to the self you left behind. 

I felt that there wasn’t a story for Guys Like Me, who went to Korea most summers after moving to the states until they stopped and then eventually realized that they had turned into someone who can confidently say “I’m from New Jersey” rather than tentatively say “I’m from New Jersey?” and what that means about loss and change. 

I also wrote this story because I thought “haha wouldn’t it be fucked up if immigration worked like github instancing?”

I don’t know if I’m going to write more things about Korea Stuff. This is my first bigboy publication (but check out my game at Sub-Q!! It’s good!!) and I don’t want to get pigeonholed as a diaspora writer/asian things specifically by the market. I am just some guy who likes wizards and lasers. I am kind of an ambivalent asian. i just go here. You just think I go here because I’ve got the eyes and hair and skin tone. 

The folktale about the knife, fisherman, is a bastardized version of a folktale I heard in elementary school, which I couldn’t find online even though I searched for it quite a bit. There’s a lot of stories about “guy goes to the fae court under the sea, comes back, oh shit, time has passed,” but I made up all the stuff about the knife, the killing of the self, etc. Based on a real story though! That’s real! 

I named Soyoung after my childhood best friend, who I’ve lost touch with for the last decade on account of her living in Korea and me moving permanently to the states. Don’t read too much into that. Claire Soyoung Ko if you’re out there…..

I accidentally named Jungwon after one of my cousins because I forgot it was his name because I always call him by his American name and now I can’t show him the story because it has his name in it. I swear this wasn’t on purpose.

In the first draft, Soyoung was bisexual, but I couldn’t fit that fact in the final draft. Know in your heart that this is true and canon, though.

The grandfather’s apartment, the Shinsegae department store basement, and the grandfather’s gravesite are all based on my actual human grandpa’s apartment/grave/places near it, and it was really just an exercise in nostalgic laziness that I described places I was pretty intimately familiar with. (If you want to know something meta that’s a little sad and strange related to the story: my family is talking about what to do with my grandfather’s grave now, because it’s too far from most of the family for them to visit. We’re trying to figure out where to take my grandparent’s ashes. I learned about this a month after my story was published and felt some kind of way).

Homecoming really is the best example I’ve written of how a story is sad or happy depending on where you end it. I ended it at the saddest moment. Soyoung’s life ends up pretty good! Soyoung ends up happy mostly, in the way that happiness is a mutable state for most people.

I cannot stress enough that Dr. Crouton, best cat, does get sent for and Soyoung DOES get her cat back. This is fucking crucial.

I always think about doing more with this story, because I think it’s an interesting concept that says a lot about migration/diaspora/immigration stuff, but I hesitate because I don’t know if I’m the best writer to write a story about this. 

[nogunsjustrosess]

Israel 'defending itself' is a laughable phrase when they have all the military power and technology and respond to whatever attacks Palestinians initiate with homemade rockets and rocks tenfold with more civilian deaths. they wouldn't have to defend themselves if they weren't occupying palestinian land and brutally suppressing its people. the fixation on Hamas which was created YEARS into the conflict, long after Israel had already been perpetrating war crimes, is just a way to deflect from the reality that Israel is a colonial project that is killing Palestinian babies in the name of self defense. consider why you want to justify IDF soldiers shooting at people who are running away from them, surrendering. these people live in a prison. they have no clean air or water. Israel controls everything - their electricity, their sewage systems, controls where they come and go. they have no freedoms. it is not even a remotely comparable situation. Israel has ALL the power, Palestine has NONE.

I will answer you thoroughly because I want you to take the time and read this response, there are MANY incorrections and misconceptions here that I hope are the results of being simply misinformed and not something way worse.

not gonna flood your feed so I’m putting everything under the tag. 

“Israel 'defending itself' is a laughable phrase when they have all the military power and technology and respond to whatever attacks Palestinians initiate with homemade rockets and rocks tenfold with more civilian deaths.”

 The asymmetry you’re talking about - tech and military wise - being your justification as to why Israel just has to endure ‘homemade rockets and rocks’  is fucked up. First of all, these are NOT just homemade rockets. 

Hamas has multiple types of rockets - and let me tell you - they are NOT homemade. Hamas is the third wealthiest terror organisation according to forbes. They receive money from Qatar and Jordan, as well as many other countries that think they fund help for the Palestinian. They don’t, Hamas uses all that money to launch thousands of top notch rockets and missiles to Israel, instead of helping the people of Gaza. Do you think homemade rockets look like this? do you think they can do this? maybe this? 

this?

or that? 

I wrote about the rocks Palestinians throw at soldiers and civilians here,  last week, an Israeli Jewish man was beaten to death and murdered by rocks in Lod by radical Israeli Arabs who identify as Palestinians. This is only the most recent occurrence - but it happens all the time and poses a serious life threat since the rocks thrown aren’t cute little beach stone, they’re big chunks of rock meant to kill, and using them as weapons is illegal in multiple countries around the world because of how dangerous it is. 

Gaza has more civilian deaths, that’s for sure. Again asymmetry that raises the brutal question - why there aren’t more Israeli people dying? Now, Israel does have a better system and way better protective measures against missiles and rockets. Do you want to know why? Israel invests millions in shelters, protective spaces and most of all - the Iron Dome. Hamas invests the same amounts of money in arming itself with missiles they launch at Israeli civilians (Jewish, Arab and Christians). Also, Hamas launches missiles and rockets from civilian areas so when they malfunction they also blow up around the same areas. 

“they wouldn't have to defend themselves if they weren't occupying palestinian land and brutally suppressing its people.”

Do you realize that they wouldn’t have to ‘defend themselves’ if they weren’t shooting at Israel in the first place? They are NOT defending themselves, Hamas has been continually sending missiles to Israel with no regard to human lives - not Israel’s nor theirs. Also, Israel has withdrawn all its settlements in 2005 with the exception of some parts in the Gaza strip, so not so much for your occupation, unless you believe the entire land of Israel is an occupation, and in that case - you’re historically incorrect. 

“the fixation on Hamas which was created YEARS into the conflict, long after Israel had already been perpetrating war crimes”

The ‘fixation’ on Hamas is the direct result of the pure fact they are actively trying to MURDER Israeli civilians every single day. You are correct by saying the conflict is way older than Hamas and way more complicated than them (you see, that’s why you DON’T get your info from infographics folks) but before Hamas there was the terror organisation Hezbollah from Lebanon (that very recently decided to join the party and fire missiles from the northern border to Israel as well), the Muslim Brotherhood and of course, ISIS. They are the terror organisations that continuously try to wipe Israel and everybody in it for good, committing endless war crimes. You all shout war crimes when Israel is the only country trying to minimise and prevent the harm done to Palestinians, often on its own expanse - like here, yesterday Israel tried to ship some resources to Gaza but the shipments were attacked by Palestinians. 

“a way to deflect from the reality that Israel is a colonial project that is killing Palestinian babies in the name of self defense.”

You guys love that argument - Israel killing Palestinian babies. Well here and here you can see well planned attacks on Hamas HQ and offices that were called off last minute because it was revealed civilians and children were present. This is something the army tries to avoid at all cost, even if it means losing millions, as well as months and sometimes years of intelligence gathering. That’s because Israel values human lives more than anything! Every possible effort to eliminate the threat to innocent lives WILL be made on the expense of anything. Except, Hamas doesn’t play by those rules, they have been known to deliberately hide Intelligence HQ, offices, and even high level terrorist amongst civilians, as well as schools, hospitals - and our newest example - news buildings. Putting human lives in danger because they use Israel’s refusal to kill civilians as an advantage. Unfortunately, that also means many time Israel doesn’t know about the presence of civilians there and horrible deaths happen. That’s very much on Hamas. 

“is just consider why you want to justify IDF soldiers shooting at people who are running away from them, surrendering. these people live in a prison.”

Listen, IDF soldiers are rarely allowed to shoot anyone - most of them don’t even carry any weapons but pepper spray. But the ones who do suffer very severe consequences if they misuse their weapons and they need to justify themselves in a court marshall . For example a couple of years ago a 19 years old soldier shot a terrorist that tried to stab his friend, he went through multiple court marshalls and even a civil trial, as well as months in prison. Believe me, this is not something any soldier would want to go trough unless their life was in grave danger and they had to shoot. (maybe America could learn a thing or too).

“they have no clean air or water. Israel controls everything - their electricity, their sewage systems, controls where they come and go. they have no freedoms. it is not even a remotely comparable situation. Israel has ALL the power, Palestine has NONE.”

Lastly, please do your research. First of all, Gaza is currently controlled by Hamas. And has been since its election almost 15 years ago. They control the resources Palestinians get or don’t get, and again - they choose to spend the billions they get in funds by buying missiles and weapons. The only thing Israel truly controls is the border with Israel, and like any other border it’s monitored and controlled, especially since it’s a favoured place for terrorist to execute attacks. Don’t forget there’s a border with Egypt as well. 

We’re not talking about Israel vs Palestinians. We’re talking about Israel vs Hamas - a blood thirsty, antisemitic terror organisation that has no value for human lives whatsoever. And still, Israel is the one who gets blamed and condemned.  

(and i have to thank @mysteryspotillusions because she did such a great job and I link to her posts several times!) 

[mollyencrypted]

So, the King Lear On The Continent AU (AKA, the one where @inexplicifics' Warlord Geralt keeps getting dragged into everyone else's petty political bullshit, and Cordelia has rather complicated feelings about her terrible family):

The thing is, Cordelia is not a politically savvy woman. She isn't cunning as her sisters are, cannot play the games of flattery and falsehood that will allow her to survive. What she is is observant. She listens, she talks to people, and she knows that in the Wolf's lands the people have well-kept roads and well-stocked stores, the peasantry can afford to change their clothes, there are no unscrupulous nobles diverting the wealth of their people into their own purses. And in the Wolf's lands, the exiled third daughter of a senile King from a country that few people even remember exists might have prospects outside of a whorehouse or gutter. Might even have a chance to save her family from themselves.

The court sorceress, Lady Miranda, is young and naïve, barely more than a student, and cannot reconcile Cordelia's unjust banishment with her image of Lear the benevolent, the just, the noble, but Cordelia has always counted her as a friend, and so whilst her father professes not to care where she ends up, be it desert or marshland or the bottom of the sea, Miranda hears her request to be portalled to Wolvenberg.

In Wolvenberg, she steels herself, squares her shoulders, tries to capture that same indomitable spirit that runs through her sisters, and that once ran through their mother too. And she walks into the closest inn - the Griffin's Eyrie, and scans the interior. There's a group of Witchers drinking in the corner - she's thought they might be there, if they're anything like her father's soldiers - and she strides up to them, trying very hard to ignore the fact that she is very young, and not very skilled in self-defense, and these men are very big. And she drops to one knee, and begs them to escort her to the Wolf, where she might request sanctuary. She's expecting them to leer or look down her dress or...well, she's not really sure what else and doesn't want to know either, but the point is, they don't do any of those things. One of them gives her a hand and helps her up, and his companions finish up their drinks, and nobody seems at all suspicious of her motives, and isn't that peculiar? But now is not the time to be unpacking all of that.

She spends three days with the four Witchers - Griffins, she learns, on their way back from a hunt - who continue to treat her courteously and not very much like her father's soldiers at all, before they finally reach Kaer Morhen and she is brought before the White Wolf, Warlord of the North, and hopes that behind that unreadable expression is a heart that will see fit to help her. She tells him about her father, his failing mind and growing ego and the way she and her sisters - sharp-tongued Goneril and volatile Regan - grew up, always competing with each other for his love and attention, the way he has now left himself at the mercy of two women who have no reason to love him back, raised with the knowledge that they will never be as good as sweet demure Cordelia and faced with the sight of him casting aside even her, and she begs him to please, help her fix it, because she knows she has every right to resent him and she does but she still doesn't want him dead and her sisters will show no mercy.

As she speaks, she feels rather foolish for daring to think that the most powerful man on the Continent would listen to the pleas of a disgraced ex-princess from a nowhere-country, but when she is finished he hmms and retreats to speak with his Council. And Cordelia is lead away by a young woman in a blue-and-red silk dress, who introduces herself as Milena and offers to help her clean herself up.

In the end, the decision is made that the Wolf will not invade Cordelia's former homeland (and she's relieved at that), but that he'll lend her a small force, comprised of eight Griffins, to provide numbers and Lambert, to speak for the Wolf and guard her and Milena, who is apparently his wife (or something like that, Cordelia isn't sure) and whose presence will hopefully make it clear that this is very much not an invasion (and also to stab anyone who gets too close to Cordelia and shouldn't be there.)

Cordelia's terrible family end up gathered in one of the council chambers, and Cordelia gets to work, with her escorts staring down anybody attempting to object. Her father has formally abdicated the throne and isn't in a fit mental state to re-ascend anyway; she asks his cousin if he'll be willing to host the old king at his estate, and that's that problem taken care of. His cousin, whom she's always called 'uncle', is just as short-sighted as he is, but he's loyal and trustworthy and will ensure he spends the rest of his days in comfort.

Finding someone to take the throne is a little harder - her father has no sons, neither of her sisters can be trusted with that much power, and she herself is certainly out of the running - but her uncle's eldest son is of royal blood and is a truly good and responsible man. He's almost as naïve as she once was, but his brother is anything but, and although he's technically illegitimate, giving him a title and land of his own ought to keep him loyal enough to the new King that he'll make a decent advisor. Both her sisters would have been far happier in the military, but there's nothing Cordelia can do about that, and so she requests that they be given advisory positions too, and her father's former chief advisor, blunt and honest, to appoint anybody else necessary and keep them in line.

Cordelia herself cannot stay in the kingdom, although now-King Edgar has rescinded her banishment. She cannot remain in court after bringing the Wolf's forces upon the country, and she cannot bear to stay with her father after his treatment of her (she loves him, but she does not like him especially much, after all of this), and so she returns to Kaer Morhen. And...it's good, is what it is. Witchers can smell lies, it turns out, and so people are honest in a way her father's court rarely was, and she makes friends quickly - Milena, Oliwia, Aleksander, Jaskier... and maybe they haven't found a real job for her yet, but she can sew and spin and sing a little bit. She'll make a place for herself here somehow, and she'll work through her complicated mess of feelings eventually.

It's going to be alright.

No, really.

[brawltogethernow]

I suppose the next step then is "BBC Merlin but it's SpideyTorch"

Oh my god. TEACHER, TEACHER, SHE’S TARGETING ME okay okay uh.

Peter, secret warlock, goes to Camelot with his mother figure, May, who does not know about the warlock thing because it kicked in when he was a teenager and they both strategically decline to tell each other things. Gaius is Reed, who was the court sorcerer and is now the court scientist. (He’s not an old man except spiritually where he has been a senile professor since he was 19.) He literally didn’t change anything he was doing, considering science and magic as different points on one spectrum anyway-- No. That’s Doom’s schtick. DOOM was the court sorcerer, and was fired. He is upset about it. Reed is just a science guy but worked extensively with Victor, so he’s kind of useful, but not as useful as Peter was hoping.

I know very little about Sue and Johnny’s dad except that he’s a supervillain who...faked his death, revealed himself, and then died for real like 12 hours later? Did he also fake his wife’s death at some point? Would he do a mad king magic ban thing? Idk but for plot purposes we’ll say yes. They conveniently already share Arthur’s dead mom syndrome. Maybe their aunt whose name is different depending on what issue you’re reading is also here just to convolute the court drama. Wait no didn’t Arthur have a shady uncle show up after like five seasons. She.

Peter is very talented at finicky, specific magical formulas. (Reed: :) )But in practice he really prefers to just slam out a big wave of power, and if that doesn’t solve the problem, repeat until it does. (Reed: :( ) He gives this a go at the beginning of sorting out any problem, like restarting your glitching computer, and if it doesn’t work the problem is complicated enough to be an episode plot.

So obviously I’m still gonna do secret identity shit? Peter saves the young prince and heir’s life and is rewarded with a second job; he only came here for job reasons and you’re all lucky he doesn’t turn down paying jobs otherwise he’d be having some words with the king. Peter also accidentally becomes a masked vigilante out in the town. His very existence is illegal because he’s obviously doing magic! They keep sending his boss out to hunt him down, and their eyes are always locking dramatically and shit in brief silent stare-offs from opposite ends of the street in thunder storms at sunset until Johnny’s horse rears and breaks the eye contact causing Peter to snap out of it and flee. You know how it is.

Sue is older than Johnny and thus older than the magic ban, so she responded to it by going “:) That’s nice, Dad” and socking away a bunch of books before they could go on the fire, and now she’s just a sorceress on the dl. This is approx. a first season finale reveal, because her real superpower is being able to keep her mouth the hell shut. I literally cannot with how nobody in Merlin ever exchanges information, so shortly after Peter and Reed learn this they exchange secrets, like sane people, which opens up their resources a bit.

That said Sue is an extra legitimate royal, not the Morgana equivalent. Maybe Gwen should be Gwen, especially since I have thought Gwen/Johnny/Peter has potential since reading Spider-Man/Fantastic Four (which if you read an earlier ask, I recommend if you want to see new art of Gwen being mean in hair clips). But Peter/Gwen and Merlin/Freya are like...same energy except the latter wasn’t as well done. And Merlin’s Guinevere honestly more reminds me of Betty. Morgana--

(wheeze)

(cough)

Okay I thought this trying to reconcile as much of the cast as possible and I now can’t unthink it so. The king’s ward is Dorrie Evans. Yes she goes nebulously sapphic evil witch queen. Sure she was an unpleasant teenager and readers hate her, but you know what, I’ll simp, whatever. Let Dorrie poison some people. In a cape. This feels natural to me. Also Betty Brant and Dorrie Evans???? Betty/Dorrie vibes???? I guess!!!!

So like. The thing where Arthur gets mystically whammied by love potions once a month, except also Johnny’s normal relationship-anticipating giddiness happening organically mixed in, the part before he actually starts dating someone and becomes immediately depressed. Peter is in the bg sarcastically dismissing magical incidents saying he can’t even tell the difference, and Reed is like 😬 Please Check Anyway. Peter’s not, haha, Peter’s not jealous, Johnny is just an idiot, and, okay maybe Peter is a little jealous! But it doesn’t matter because the prince is going to marry some noble and--

Reed: Prince Johnathan is a bit like a little brother to me, so Please Stop Telling Me About Your Problems.

Reed/Sue is reciprocated but on permanent hold for class reasons. Spideytorch is in the same boat except they’re also stupid and working it out by dating their way through the whole country, except Peter is actually into that and Johnny is not.

The dragon is...Ezekiel?????? That’s the right level of wise wry mentor who’s very shady and will kill you, so he’s a dragon now. And when he tells Peter he’s the (other) chosen one, Peter full stop doesn’t believe him. This disbelief goes on extensively. Peter is not a fate-oriented person. Johnny would love to hear about the fate thing, but no one will tell him.

Literally I’m just going to add more chronologically unmoored medievalish shit to Merlin now to cram more of the cast in. There’s some kind of town crier/herald outfit, and Jonah is their boss. He’s just out in the road yelling sometimes even though he can delegate that. The buglers otherwise known as Bugle staff named Peter’s vigilante persona the Spider, which was supposed to sound menacing but is in practice also cool. This is out-of-universe fairly equivalent to Merlin’s real name as a neat two-syllable animal word and possible title. In-universe maybe I’d elbow out Emrys and just use this. Merlin is already very servants-don’t-work-like-that, so Betty just also has two jobs for no reason so she can knock elbows with them.

MJ is the court jester and knows absolutely everything, which is a dramatic mid-game reveal that isn’t exactly foreshadowed so much as always possible while carefully obscured from the viewer (the reader). Before this she’s already a Wise Fool, Shakespeare-ways archetype character, it’s just not clear how much. She is the most important character in Homestuck Merlin Spider.

Every ship is real for at least 30 seconds. Most of the extended FF cast are either magical antagonists or weird nobles.

Ben????? (Grimm, I mean. Ben Parker is dead. Ben Reilly is a recurring episodic plot.) This show was painfully formulaic and would simply not keep someone with any version of his deal in the main cast, but he’s a full quarter of the FF so. A magical accident approximated his rock body deal. Maybe specifically tying him to ~the magic of the land~. And then, uh. Wandering the country is too satellite-like. Hiding out in a forbidden castle wing is interesting but doesn’t do him justice. So I guess it’s a come and go semivoluntary transformation thing that’s kept secret? Rock werewolf. Were-rock. Good opportunity to fake out like you’re going to do a monster of the week plot, and then he contributes to the tension to abolish the magic ban.

Knights?? Wyatt is there from the beginning, being tall and reassuring (holding a sword edition). Not sure how him or his immediate ancestors got to Europe and then ended up this involved with the local nobility, but it was probably exciting. And Flash, or he’s an early addition. Either way he’s from the same village as Peter and is approximately White’s Kay, except directed at the wizard instead of the future king, and otherwise you can completely superimpose their comic dynamic including the fanboying over the secret identity angle, which is entertainingly seditious. ...Others. I don’t know enough FF characters for this. I’ve accidentally implied the eventual addition of Bennet Brant, but his evil sorcerer of the week energy is very strong, so maybe not. Randy eventually because I already implied the Robertsons and can see it.

This is so long, covers nothing, and explains none of the namechecks. Using both these characters’ franchises in one fusion is too much stuff. I keep not talking about the core relationship because it’s just. Like That. I don’t feel like I need to elaborate on the Merthur dynamic, even transposed on a different ship. It’s Just Like That.

[umbralstars]

Alright now that I've talked a bit about his province it's time to talk about the man himself. We should all be aware of the few bits of canon info we got about Rufus, but here's my own general thoughts about his character and the relationships he has with his family.

Rufus is 13 years older than Lambert and wasn't exactly thrilled when his parents decided to make Lambert heir instead because of him possessing a crest while Rufus didn't. Rufus understands logically why Crests are useful for rulers to have (the legitimacy they offer along with a powerful Relic if a ruler needs to defend the state is useful and he won't deny that) but doesn't believe a Crest necessarily makes one automatically a good ruler. Recognizing early on the faults in Faerghus' system of governance, and feeling like he has something to prove, Rufus was hell bent on leaving his mark on Faerghus whether he's king or not.

Rufus is actually an incredibly intelligent politician who studied not only the governing systems of old, but also tried to learn as much as he could about foreign governments so he could reform Faerghus. He's been reform minded since he was a teenager. Even spent a good portion of Lambert's formative years impressing his ideas onto his younger brother, until Lambert knew enough to start coming up with his own ideas and debating solutions with Rufus. While the brothers were never the closest, Rufus implicitly trusted Lambert because his brother was just willing to trust and listen to him and that meant a lot to Rufus. He did more than his fair share of criticizing his younger brother, but at least he knew Lambert could find appreciation in that.

As Grand Duke of Itha, Rufus had a certain view on wealth and how a government should be structured.

He firmly believes that wealth should be used to glorify the state through great public works and that a well educated populace along with a well fed and protected populace led to the greatest societies. He still lived large and made it known, but he had a more patriotic attitude towards his wealth and believed he had a moral obligation to spend it on Faerghus' greatness. Under his rule, Castell Itha went from a cultural backwater in Faerghus to having one of the largest public libraries (something that would be replicated in Fhirdiad with Lambert turning the Fhirdiad College of Sorcery's library into a royal one open to the public) in Fodlan and having better urban planning than many cities in the Empire. He personally encouraged the creation of great works of art, poetry, and new magical techniques all for the good of Faerghus. He believed that Faerghus could be a cultural powerhouse and he was going to make it so by Sothis.

Rufus' aspirations weren't just limited to Itha either as he was of the opinion that Faerghus' incredibly decentralized governance style was holding the Kingdom back from greatness. Ever since Loog, the Kingdom had been an almost confederation of various states who paid homage to House Blaiddyd and the royal court but devolved so much power on internal matters they were functionally independent. The Kingdom's codes of chivalry were mostly developed and lauded by the crown as a way to retain some centralized authority and respect, but the various states in Faerghus could pretty much beef with each other as they pleased. Nowhere worse was this problem than in the northern reaches of Faerghus. Because much of the north has sided with Loog there was never any consolidation, so the north was made up of hundreds of duchies, counties, baronies, etc that could give the Holy Roman Empire a run for its money.

Rufus saw all of this as a blight on the Kingdom and made it his life's mission to fix it when he became Grand Duke. Lambert and him were working towards a goal of essentially a federalized monarchy with a strong centralized government. It's the entire reason he started to consolidate power and take out anyone who dared to get in his way. He also has a very 'my way or the highway' outlook on the other noble houses and wouldn't hesitate to screw them over if they don't fall into lines or prove to him that they're incapable of leadership. 

Rufus can also be incredibly petty and spiteful if he feels he's been offended in some way. House Galatea is the big example of this. Galatea had been having financial problems for decades before hand, and the Count spurning Rufus on his betrothal request for peaceful inclusion in the Grand Duchy he considered a grave insult. Rufus didn't incite the rebellion as some claim but he did capitalize on it because he wanted to show how weak Galatea was and undermine the Count's authority. A more bloody example came when a smaller noble house in his domain tried to kill Rufus and his heir to take the riches for themselves. While they failed on both counts, Rufus decided to purge the entire family and their supporters with having the ringleaders tried and executed leaving the rest to flee for the Alliance.

The only House he begrudgingly respects is House Fraldarius because he does consider Rodrigue to be a capable leader and they do somewhat get along. They encountered each other a lot and, while Rogrigue is critical of Rufus' certain proclivities, they were able to be amicable to one another. He dislikes how many nobles fled to House Fraldarius due to the perceived aggression on the Grand Duchy's part. But for him, as long as Rodrigue was on Lambert's side with the reform measures he can share power in the north. He and Margrave Gautier have always disliked each other for numerous reasons, but the two don't clash over territory so they can tolerate each other's presence.

Rufus is also a mixed bag of being extremely charismatic, but pretty much only becomes so to woo people or get what he wants. In all other aspects of his life Rufus was domineering and stubborn with his beliefs and in his social life. He was and still is extremely piss poor at handling emotions and this includes his own. He could also be cold and ruthless when it came to pursuing his goals and was willing to do shitty things to get results.

Speaking of doing shitty things yes the man is a prolific womanizer, and every single relationship he has with the women in his life and his children is unique. He does frequent brothels and has done so since he was in his late teens. He courts heiresses to incorporate their houses into his territory or for purely political gain. Many of the children he has had may very not consider him a father at all simply because he's never been in their lives for whatever reason. At bare minimum he makes sure his mistresses and his bastards have at least a comfortable living situation, but that's about it. Rufus is obviously not incapable of loving people or considering his children family, he just doesn't a lot of the time while he never wishes ill upon them. There are a few instances where this was not the case and he was much closer to his mistresses and children, but they were honestly few and far between.

Since I mentioned his family other than Lambert and Dimitri it’s OC time. 

Rufus and Emyr

Darya Artemi was probably one of the few women Rufus ever truly fell and love with. He initially approached her in the same way he had heiresses in the past with just intentions of courting her along with her soon to be lands, but somewhere along the line he genuinely did fall for her. When Emyr was born and it was discovered he had a Major Crest Rufus jumped on the opportunity to make him the heir. They never did legally marry, but she was Duchess Consort in everything but legality. Darya was mostly fine with having an open relationship with Rufus as long as he was around for her and their children.

Rufus as a parent is just as domineering as in every other aspect of his life. He could be caring but extremely strict as well and pushed for perfection in everything Emyr did. He wanted his son to be the perfect heir for the province he was building, and be like him in many aspects. Emyr did love his father and wanted to live up to every expectation.

When Darya died, Rufus experienced one of the first major depressive episodes in his life. He pulled away from his children, threw himself into work and all of his vices, and became even harder on Emyr than he was previously. If her death wasn't enough, some of his mistresses felt an opportunity to get ahead and tried to fill the void or even remove Emyr on a few occasions. The houses never really leveled out again and both Emyr and Rufus clung to the perceived stability they had before Darya's death to their relationship's detriment. They never could come close to breaching those vulnerable waters.

When Emyr ran away with Katya, it came after years of strife between him and his father that did permanently damage their relationship. Rufus was devastated when he lost Emyr and Katya along with a good portion of his family. He grew even more depressed, lost control of the court entirely, and never could form anywhere close to a good relationship with his nephew. He lost a good number of relationships during the four years before his death in friends and family. He spent the last years of his life guilt ridden, dogged by horrible rumors, and trying to keep together a country which was begging to rip itself a part. 

For Emyr's part, he never did wish for his father to die in the way he did. In some ways he did love Rufus even after everything. Emyr is like his father in many ways and terrified of becoming him in many others. 

TL;DR: Rufus is complicated.

[girls-love-girls1200]

67. Lisa x Reader

*The Job of a lifetime*

2000+ words

Warnings: cursing

When you had first shared your plan to move to the capital with your mother, for some reason the first words that left her mouth were: “Spring days in Seoul are the most enjoyable period of the year, when the cherry trees blossom and the air is crisp.” Her eyes melting into small crescent moons, a kind smile illuminating her soft features, she knew it meant that from that moment on she would find herself alone in your once always loud and full childhood home, but she didn’t mind, in fact she was proud, the youngest of three leaving the nest just after graduation. Ever since you were a toddler your mom had done everything possible to make sure you and your two brothers could live a life that made you happy, money and success had never meant much to any of you, it was always about doing something you loved. That’s why your mom had spent fifteen years of her life picking you up from dance class in her rusty old green beetle from Monday to Friday, attending every recital, sewing your clothes together, applying cream to your bruised legs. She knew that’s how you wanted to live, always on your tiptoes, sometimes on your knees, often on your backside, and so she supported you.

Now her kind words were replaying in your head on a loop, your heartbeat ringing in your ears echoed by your feet hitting the concrete at full speed. You struggled to find a reason as to way karma was battering you so hard, on the morning of probably the most important day of your life so far, not only had you poured spoiled milk onto your cereal, you had also been left stranded by your bus because of a punctured tire. You hated running, you truly believed there was a specific ring in hell for those who enjoyed the satanic activity of jogging, yet on this day you were running like no woman had ever run before. By some divine miracle you had managed to push through to the final interview round for a position as first dance assistant to one of the most renowned choreographers in the country, hundreds of extremely talented dancers had applied for the sought after position, today only twelve were left, eleven if you didn’t make it before the doors to the dance studio closed. By a stroke of luck you reached those doors as attendance was being called, bowing as you entered the room you zoomed pass the examiners, swiftly joining the eleven other girls, their gazes on you like starving vultures, you tried to control your breathing as you sat down on the last free plastic chair, in the corner where the huge dance mirror met the wall, you held your tattered dance bag to your chest, trying to regain your composure.

You dared to lift your eyes from the ground only as your name was called, a crystal clear voice cutting through the tense atmosphere, raising your hand you tried to muster up some confidence, failing as soon as your eyes met the ones of the owner of said voice. Lisa Manoban, in a simple white crop top and high wasted jeans her lean figure seemed to glow, a strict expression plastered on her stoic face, she scanned you from head to toe, you thought you heard her kiss her teeth at you as she sighed, “Give me one reason not to kick you out this second for arriving late.”

Tilting your head slightly you bit back a smile, Lisa’s eyebrows lifting in surprise,

“You haven’t seen me dance.”

A sharp gasp came from one of the girls sitting next to you, Lisa’s lips pressing in a thin line, eyes piercing through you, she gave you a quick nod, sitting down herself on the wooden floor,

“You’re going last Y/SN.”

You couldn’t hide the small smile that appeared on your face as you heard your surname coming from her mouth, and unknowingly to you, it had also caught someone else’s attention. Being last was never fun, your nerves rising as you carefully observed every girl stand in the middle of the room, performing a freestyle dance to a song of Lisa’s choice, you could read the anxiety in their eyes as the most complicated tunes poured out of the speakers, unrecognizable beats filling the space, Lisa’s eyes wouldn’t leave their body for one millisecond, her dark pupils following every single movement, as if she was looking for something very specific. Once the girl finished, she would be sent back to her place with a court nod, not a word coming from the stone-cold figure of Lisa Manoban.

It didn’t seem to go any differently as you stepped up to the small white X taped onto the floor, your fingers trembling as they played with the laces hanging from your sides, your mom had helped you pick out the outfit last night via video call, her encouraging words coming back to your mind, you took a few steady breaths as the older woman in front of you pressed play on her phone, you closed your eyes as the melodic notes typical of south Asian music filled your ears, your feet seemed to move even before your mind told them to, letting your nervousness fall off your body in fluid movements you focused on the strange melody that seemed to run through your veins, your focused gaze falling on Lisa after every twirl, you felt your body as light as a feather as you made the small space around you your own, ending your moves inches away from Lisa and her team. As the music came to halt you found yourself on the ground, slightly out of breath, your fingers hanging delicately from your collarbones, you smiled widely, bowing twice before making your way back to your seat, aware of a pair of eyes glued to your figure.

A woman in her late fifties took you quite by surprise as she invited all of you to wait outside, the selected candidate would be informed straight away. You all made your way out, a few girls breaking down in tears as soon as the door was shut behind you, others calling their parents, you made your way to the water dispenser just at the end of the corridor, pouring yourself a cup, you couldn’t help but chew on your lower lip, your nerves slowly coming back, the cool water alleviating your stress ever so slightly, you hadn’t even finished the cup when a tall figure appeared next to you, patting you on the back, Lisa didn’t even stop as she made her way out of the building, her words making you lose your grasp on the half empty cup of water that slipped through your fingers,

“See you on Monday in my studio, 9 am sharp Y/n, you’re late, you’re fired.”

Your name was echoed by the same woman who had asked you to leave the room, her gaze falling on you as also did that of eleven girls who had just missed out on the opportunity of a lifetime.

Monday morning you opened the doors to your dream job precisely at half past eight, wanting to avoid at all costs any sort of tardiness, you knew you had a lot to make up for, you greeted the two young girls at the reception desk with a big smile, you introduced yourself briefly, which seemed to take them by surprise before making your way to the fourth floor, a welcome email had described pretty well what your job entailed, where you had to go and the hours you were required to put in, passing by your boss’s office you were quite surprised to see it empty, as you knew classes didn’t start until half nine. Curiosity got the best of you as you started exploring the various studios and classes on the floor, all of them more modern than any dance studio you had ever practiced in, that was to be expected knowing how much these kids payed to enter the dance academy. As you walked along the empty corridor the faintest of sound reached your ears, following it once again driven by sheer curiosity you opened another door onto the biggest practice room you had seen yet, in the middle of it a slim figure sat on the ground, long legs sprawled out in front of her, enveloped in a pair of black cargo pants, you could tell she was out of breath by the way her back raised at a fast pace, head hanging low, a cascade of raven hair falling along her shoulders.

“Doesn’t tying your hair up sound like a good idea while practicing?”

The older girl didn’t even flinch at the sound of your voice, her head moving slightly to peek at her watch, not even sparing a quick glance in your direction,

“You’re early, I wasn’t expecting that.”

Shuffling in front of her you held your hand out, your eyes searching for hers, she finally looked up at you, the faintest of smiles on her face as she grabbed onto your hand, your palm almost tingling at the feeling of her warm skin against your own.

“I’m full of surprises miss Manoban.”

Struggling to keep up with her fast pace, you followed her all the way to her office, your gaze following her every movement as she sat down gracefully, wiping her slightly damp face with a small white cloth, she pulled out a lipstick from one of her drawers, reapplying it carefully, she smacked her lips twice before leaning back into her chair, her intense gaze scrutinizing your still standing figure from head to toe.

“You know Y/N, you’re the first ever dancing assistant in the history of the academy not to actually have graduated from here, some people aren’t very pleased with that, so I hope you will prove yourself.”

Taken aback by the sudden statement you smiled at the teacher, almost feeling sorry for her, you could see the hardships she had gone through just by looking into her chocolate eyes,

“You see miss, I have nothing to prove, I am not here to prove myself, I’m here to work hard, and earn your respect, but let me get this straight, I don’t have to show to anyone that I deserve to be here, because I could tell, that those eleven girls at the interview last week had no idea what having to build yourself up from zero means. If people actually got into the academy because of talent and perseverance, then rest assured that I would have been top of the class, but since one can enter only because of money, background and privilege, I have had to find other ways to learn.”

Lisa’s eyes widened at your words, her mouth opening slightly before she shook her head, keeping her opinion to herself she got on her feet, her hands resting on her hips, her whole aura expressing pure confidence,

“That’s why I chose you Y/n, I think you and I will get on great.”

Sauntering towards you her arms crossed in front of her chest, she stopped just mere inches away from your face, the smallest of smiles painted on her kind features, her long fingers delicately moving a strand of your hair behind your ear, your cheeks burning at the closeness,

“And you can call me Lisa.”

Working with Lisa proved itself harder than you had first imagined, although the job itself was physically demanding it was Lisa’s attitude that seemed to tire you out the most, the girl was the most hot and cold person you had ever met. She could go from messing around with you in her office for an entire hour to becoming an impenetrable fortress during her lessons, never allowing herself to smile in front of the younger students, her stone cold face and harsh criticism making it very easy for them to dislike her.

It’s because of that exact reason you found yourself staying in the almost empty studio with a handful of kids after midnight, not feeling comfortable enough to ask Lisa for help they would come to you, knowing the older woman would only accept perfection, some of the kids needed an extra hand, a friendly smile and some encouraging words to achieve that. The late hours unfortunately started to take a toll, your mom had been the first to point it out, she had come to visit you one weekend and immediately noticed how your cheeks seemed more hollow than the last time she saw you and you were dragging your feet more than you used to, laughing it off you blamed it on the city’s food, because nobody could ever cook like your mother, of course she hadn’t bought it, but you had managed to send her back home before she got too inquisitive on the matter.

The second person to notice your exhaustion was none other than your boss. Lisa had come to pay a lot of attention to you in the last couple of months, more than she would ever like to admit, she had noticed how your feet suddenly didn’t seem as light as they were a couple of weeks prior, your twirls weren’t as precise, and your smile not as bright as the first time she saw you dance. The situation unfortunately escalated one morning in the middle of august, the city heat had rendered life quite unbearable, and the fatigue that rattled your bones felt heavier than ever before. Lisa had asked you to help her come up with a new routine for one of her advanced classes, and so you found yourself spinning around the studio at seven in the morning, Lisa’s eyes trained on your figure, she was about to tell you to slow down when she noticed your moves get sloppier, your legs shaking, your vision started going blurry and just before your legs gave out underneath you, strong arms wrapped around your waist, her sweet scent overpowering your confused senses as she slowly pulled you to the ground with her. Lisa tried her best not to go into panic mode as she held your limp body in her arms, she rested your back against her chest, one of her hands stroked your soft hair gently as her other passed you a bottle of water.

“It’s okay Y/N just drink some water, don’t try to get up yet.”

As your vision got clearer, so did your mind, and soon enough you were very aware of Lisa’s heart beating against your back, her fingers shaking ever so lightly as she caressed you.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Your soft voice made Lisa’s insides tingle, resting her forehead against your shoulder a sudden wave of emotions seemed to crash onto her, all she could think about, all she could hear, see and feel was you, her lips millimetres away from your bare shoulder blades. Overwhelmed, she got up on her feet, ignoring your lost gaze trailing after her,

“Damn Y/N you need to look after yourself, I can’t always be on the look out for you, making sure you don’t pass out during my lessons. Just imagine the shit show if you were to leave me to do these classes on my own.”

She hated herself for the venom that spewed out of her mouth sometimes, she didn’t quite know why her mind seemed to find the worst way possible to deal with her emotions, it was usually bratty teens that would face the rear end of her bitterness and that didn’t affect her as much, but in that moment, as you struggled to lift yourself off the floor, tears brimming in the corner of your sweet eyes, Lisa absolutely loathed herself.

“If you weren’t so busy being an ice-cold bitch and actually let your students be students I wouldn’t have to spend every fucking night working extra hours to make up for your lack of professionality.”

Your words bounced off the mirrors of the practice room, Lisa froze in shock at your revelation as you stormed out of the studio, regretting your harsh words as soon as you had said them, you told the girls at reception that you would be taking a couple of days off due to personal reasons. Once at home you gathered your thoughts, realizing the only reason Lisa’s words had gotten to you was because you really, really liked her, you loved being by her side every day, spending your lunch breaks together in her office, dancing so close to her that your bodies almost became one. You had fallen, pretty hard, and by the way she had spoken to you earlier, you figured it was a one-sided kind of thing, and that hurt pretty bad.

You spent the entire day doing absolutely nothing, you wanted to rest but your thoughts were racing at a hundred miles per hour, it was late at night when you actually managed to settle down, wearing your favourite sweatpants and a sports bra you hacked away at a tub of vanilla ice cream, watching some random nature documentary on Netflix. The insistent ringing of your doorbell interrupted your much needed chill time, and unwillingly you trudged to the front door, your face turning pale as the person who had occupied your mind for the entire day stood in front of you, her usual Jansport bag hanging from her shoulder, black bangs sticking to her forehead due to the heat outside, her chocolate eyes staring apologetically out you.

You tried to shut the door immediately, trying your hardest to avoid the imminent confrontation, but Lisa jammed her foot inside, a small yelp escaping her as the door trapped her leg. Swinging it back open immediately to check if she was alright, Lisa took advantage of your moment of weakness and stormed in, trapping you between the wall and herself, her eyes staring directly into your own.

“Let me apologize please.”

The fast rise and fall of her chest gave away the fact that she was just as nervous as you were, her pearly white teeth sunk into her lower lip, your pupils following her every move, Lisa took a big breath, trying to steady her nerves,

“I’m sorry, the kids explained to me what has been going on, and I’m truly sorry, you were right, I was being unprofessional.”

Her sincere gaze suddenly became hard for you to hold, your head lowering as her face inched closer,

“But there’s a reason for that Y/N.”

Her fingers shook ever so slightly as they caressed your face, reaching your chin she tilted your head, her lips so close to yours you could feel her warmth breath,

“I like you like crazy.”

You couldn’t stop yourself even if you wanted to, closing the gap between your two faces, your lips enveloping Lisa’s soft ones, fingers tangling in her silky waves, you sighed into the kiss, eliciting a small hum of appreciation from the taller girl, whose arms wrapped around your waist tightly, her cold fingers grazing the small of your back. You pulled away from her just when breathing became an issue, your lips tingling. Lisa’s fingers desperately searching for yours, bringing them to her lips and placing the softest kisses on each of your knuckles, a huge smile spread on your face, your cheeks almost hurting.

“I think I might like you too.”

[unsafepin]

Nonbinary Invisibility in Binary Language

Nonbinary existence is a strange one, for sure. You are constantly in a dialogue between your own needs and societal standards. I, as a nonbinary person who was assigned female at birth, personally have no qualms with having long hair, wearing skirts, doing my makeup. I wear a binder, but besides that, I have next to no dysphoria concerning my body. I look at myself in the mirror and am content, a genderless face smiling back at me. I’m even somewhat fine being called ‘she’.

And the word “somewhat” in that last sentence is doing a lot of heavy lifting. Some days, the feminine pronoun slips through my ears like it isn’t a big deal, and on others, it stings like a knife through the chest. It depends greatly on intent. Language is a tool, and as any tool would, it has its limits. Like a paintbrush that can be used to make art, but also to stir your tea in the absence of a spoon, words take on different functions depending on a person’s intentions. My close friends use ‘she/her’ with me liberally and I pay no mind because they are aware of my gender identity and accept it, thus the pronoun comes with an acknowledgment that it doesn’t represent my whole gender. But when teachers, parents, strangers call me ‘girl’,’miss’,’young woman’ I instantly get queasy, them classifying me as a female in their mind.

With me so far? Okay, because it only gets more complicated. Technically, in the Lithuanian language, it’s nearly impossible to string a sentence about a person or object together without explicitly or implicitly stating their or its gender. And yes, we Lithuanians are so used to it it doesn’t even sound strange in our minds, but objects are all gendered. Ships are affectionately referred to with feminine pronouns in the English language, despite technically being an ‘it’, but in Lithuanian that would be an objective grammatical mistake. A yacht, maybe, that can be a ‘she’, but a ship is definitely a ‘he’. English, despite however many bigots fume about it, has a tradition of a singular ‘they’ to refer to a person of unknown or unclear gender. This allows English speakers to effortlessly adopt a gender-neutral pronoun for themselves and usually no one bats an eye. The construction of names is also lax, most English-speaking countries being a melting pot of different cultures, there are no rules on how to construct a feminine, masculine or gender-neutral name. As long as you don’t try to name your child XÆA-12, anything goes.

A lot of people have trouble comprehending what a ‘systemic issue’ means. How can any ideology be ingrained in a society built by so many different people? Well, having talked about my nonbinary experience and how gender functions in a language, I think you know where I’m going with this. Lithuanian language systematically erases nonbinary people. There is no genderless pronoun. There are barely any genderless nouns. Names, both first and last, have strict grammatical construction rules and it isn’t unusual that people end up in court defending their right to bend those rules. So what are nonbinary Lithuanians left to do? Many adopt non-Lithuanian names and plural ‘they/them' pronouns (jie/jų), the masculine pronoun (jis/jo), which is considered the ‘default’ for a person whose gender is unknown, or try to come up with a neopronoun, that removes gender but also works in Lithuanian grammar, which is a grueling and frustrating task, unfit for anyone who isn’t a professional linguist. The way that the masculine is seen as the default in the Lithuanian language (e.g. ‘jie/jų’ actually has a feminine counterpart ‘jos/jų’, but the former is seen as the standard for a group of mixed genders) opens a whole other conversation about how patriarchy is also systematically ingrained in Lithuanian, but I would like to shift the focus to the concept of neopronouns for a second.

To put it simply, neopronouns are pronouns which haven’t existed previously in the speaker’s language, for example, the English ‘xe/xyr’. And I’m ashamed to admit it, but I feel a deep rage within me when I see English-speaking fellow nonbinary people put something like ‘angel/angels/angelself/’ or etc. in their bio. And even more upset when these pronouns are respected online, them being referred to as they like. The acid of injustice that these new pronouns can be effortlessly implemented in the English language, while I can’t refer to myself as genderless without resorting to masculine pronouns or writing a thesis reconstructing the entire grammatical system of my language, it rises up my throat. And I am happy for these people, being seen as recognized as they desire, but it is a bitter happiness.

So what are we to do, show up on VLKK’s (National Commission of the Lithuanian Language) doorstep and demand a gender-neutral option? They can’t even seem to agree whether non-Lithuanian characters in names are okay. Only recently did they finally allow women to change their last names so it doesn’t represent their marital status, and even that didn’t go without hindrances. We don’t even have same-sex marriage or proper healthcare for binary trans people, let alone introducing gender neutrality. I am in love with the Lithuanian language. The language of songs, linguists call it. It has words older than some countries, one of the most complicated languages to learn, perhaps only behind variants of Chinese. But how do I reconcile loving this language vehemently and passionately and it not returning the sentiment? Do I become a linguist, sacrifice my life to retrospectively doing justice to all Lithuanian nonbinary people before me, only to be rejected by the strict norms of VLKK?

The language of songs, they say. When will those songs include us?

[theinkyisles]

haunting figures

this is for my @ts-storytime​ ‘s submission! my artist is @ravenclawicecream and it was awesome working together for this piece. word count: 15001 tags: discussion of war, slight internalized ableism, arranged marriages, familial death, awful parents, open/ambiguous ending author’s notes: im never writing anything like this again.  it was an experience im glad for !! but i never wanna do this again salkjfdal

The meeting had lasted centuries, it seemed.

In all reality, it had only been a few hours, but he felt like he could see the hairs at his temple graying.  The aching joints had been a painful companion all his life, so it seemed that being an old man at age thirty-one was simply his life now.  The books surrounding him and the crutches leaning on the side of the desk agreed.

Logan sighed and let his head drop onto the stack of his papers.  His eyes threatened to shut but it was only three o’clock in the afternoon and the number of advisors clamoring for his attention was unbelievable.  He was only the king, not God Herself.  Honestly, if he was a power-hungry noble wishing to be in the king’s good graces, he wouldn’t try and get an appointment with him.  Appointments never solved anything; any good court member knew that. 

There weren’t many good court members, as you could tell.

Lifting his head from the inked parchments, he rubbed his brow with the palm of his hand.  The court member problem was an on-going one, left over from his mother’s reign.  Her partner’s death shocked everyone and the queen scrambled to recover the pieces of what she discovered to be a shattered kingdom.  She couldn’t fix everything, and so that’s what Logan grew up learning how to do.

The king pursed his lips and leaned back in his chair.  “Fix everything” he murmured to himself. “What a useless task.”

A knock came at the door and Logan called for whoever was at the door to come in.  “Hello, your majesty,” his steward bowed. “I was told to fetch you.” Logan lifted his eyes to peer over the top of his glasses.

“Am I not the one who is supposed to request others to be fetched?” he asked. The steward’s eyes glittered with amusement as he straightened.

“We both know that that’s no fun,” Emile said, placing his arms behind his back. “Besides you’re going to like who’s come to visit.” Logan exhaled deeply.

“Well, if you are here to fetch me, let me be fetched.” Logan pressed both his hands to the desk and slowly raised.  His knees creaked in protest, but he kept going until he was upright.  Grabbing the crutches, he swiftly made his way to his steward.  Together, they walked the ornate halls until they reached the throne room, where the courtier opened the door and Logan marched inside.

“Your majesty!” a voice boomed.  A man clad in black and green stood in the middle of the room, his hand resting on his decorative scabbard. “How is that every time I visit, you seem to become more and more the old man you are inside?”  The servants around the room tensed, but Logan just grinned.

“Remus, how is it every time you visit, you can never find a better joke to greet me with?” Logan countered.  Remus threw his head back, a loud laugh filling the room.  Servants around the room winced at the loud display, but Logan merely smiled.

“Never change, my friend.” Remus smiled, his eyes crinkling.  Logan’s heart grew fond at the sight. 

“Well, let me sit, and then we may discuss why you are here.”

“What, a prince can’t come to visit his old friend?” Logan scoffed as he sat down in the throne, removing the crutches from his arms.

“Not when said prince has been shifting his weight from foot to foot like a nervous wreck since I stepped foot into here.” The anxious look in his eyes grew more apparent, but Remus’ smile never dropped.  His hand began shaking back and forth at his side.

“I wanted to wait for a bit longer before bringing it up.”

“Nonsense.  This is the world we live in, your highness. We’d be fools to forget our responsibilities for a moment.” Remus nodded.

“There has been…a complication in the plan we drafted last summer.” Logan straightened in his seat.

“The one for the fields of the volcanoes in your kingdom?”

“Exactly, my dear friend.”

“What complication could come from that? It was a routine signing, everyone agreed to it and- “

 “-and there shouldn’t be another meeting for several more years?” Remus finished. “Yes, but the kingdom of Xious has found that the terms of the contract that has been in place for a millennia before the current monarch is not suitable and wishes to make some changes.”

“What changes could they possibly want? They get forty percent of the crops and pay an incredibly low rent, even after adjusting for inflation!”

“Your anger matches that of my own,” Remus agrees and steps closer, “but they are willing to go to war over it, and, as interesting as I find that, it turns out that death and destruction is not good for kingdoms, so we need to find a solution.”

“War?” Logan exclaimed uncharacteristically. “Over a treaty about wheat?”

“It would definitely be quite the bloodbath.  Your army is no match for Xious’.”

“War is quite a rash move, especially if his country is suffering famine.” Remus shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t pretend to know what goes through the child’s mind.  My brother believes he’s scared and he sees that war is the only way to protect his country’s dignity. I say that he has been pushing off help from his advisors in some vain attempt to prove himself.”

“Have you done due diligence? There is no reason for the Xiousians to be acting in this manner.” Logan said, leaning his chin into his hand. Roman scoffed, crossing his arms.

“My father would not approve that, not with how the king is acting.”

“Remus, please, your father has little influence in the court anymore, especially in his old age.” Roman gave the Cygnan king a look.

“Please, Logan, you’ve met my father.” Logan rolled his eyes. “You act as if you didn’t know that.”

“Forgive me for still finding it ridiculous.”

“You are forgiven,” Remus jested.  Logan huffed a laugh and let his head drop into his hands.

Without saying anything, Logan picked up his crutches, slipping his arms in. He stood up and Remus straightened on instinct.  Logan made his way down the steps and walked over to the doors leading out of the throne room.  He looked behind him to where Remus was staring at him quizzically in the middle of the room.

“Well, what on Earth are you waiting for?” Logan laughed and kept moving towards the doors.  Remus chuckled and hurried after his friends.  The guards at the doors moved to follow them, but Logan shook his head. “Leave me with my friend.  I certainly won’t die between here and my chambers.”

“But sire-”one of the guards started.

“I am well aware of the protocol, my parent was the one who wrote it,” Logan snapped back. “I will be fine.”  Logan saw the guard hesitate for a moment and took his change to keep walking down the hallways.

“You are so rude to them,” Remus mused.

“I’m the king and I can take care of myself.  They know to respect me at this point, I’ve more than proven myself.”

“I wonder how many times you could be assassinated between now and then,” Remus thought out loud after a moment.  The same guard stiffened and Remus smiled widely in his direction. Logan barely withheld a snort and Remus turned the smile onto the king.

“Are you going to try and find out?” Logan asked rhetorically, beginning to make his way down the hall.

“You mean to tell me that you haven’t taken every chance to find out the exact about of time it would take for any number of assassinations to take place in this exact hallway? That’s so very unlike you,” Remus laughed as Logan smacked his shin with the crutch. “Watch it, Logey, lest I report back to my father that I was assaulted by the king of Cygnas.”

“Oh, shut it,” Logan rolled his eyes.

“Hm,” Remus preened, “I don’t think I will.”

“You and your brother will be the death of me, I swear,” Logan muttered.

“Speaking of my brother…” Remus trailed off.  Logan wrinkled his nose at the sound of the prince Roman. “He wasn’t able to accompany me, but we might be returning in a few weeks’ time in case of war, especially since he is the new crown prince.” Logan’s embarrassment shifted into shock.

“What? I thought that-“

“Father has also decided which son will take the throne.”  Remus stopped in the middle of the hallway.  Logan followed suit.

“Why I haven’t I heard about this sooner? Has he declared this officially?” Logan asked incredulously.  Remus shook his head.

“The position is brand new.  I heard about it myself while in transit coming here.  We both knew that this was coming, Logan.”  Remus gave the other king a look and Logan turned away to stare at the ground.

“Yes, but-” Logan cut himself off, frustrated.  He turned back to Remus. “Send my congratulations to your brother.  He will be a fine king.

“I hope you know that resenting me is an acceptable course of action.” Remus said knowingly.

“I just-”

“You wanted me to be king.  I know.”  Remus stepped closer to Logan, resting a hand against Logan’s cheek. “I’m sorry I disappointed you.”

“What kind of talk is that?”  Roman looked away, allowing himself to shove his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “Remus.”

“Logan,” Remus mocked slightly. “Just yell at me already, won’t you?”

Logan scowled. “Have you no faith in me? Good heavens.” Logan slipped his arms out of his crutches and leaned them against the wall.  He pressed up close to Remus and hugged him, making his two inches over Remus known.  He cupped the back of his friend’s head, pressing it against his shoulder.  Remus slumped forward. “You will be a fine king.  Do I wish your father had given Remus more of a chance? Yes, but that does not mean you are anywhere near unqualified for the position.”

“You’re just saying that.” Logan pulled back to look Remus in the eyes.

“Have I ever lied to you?” They stared at each other a moment.  Remus searched for something in Logan’s face, but whatever dishonesty he was looking for, he couldn’t find.  The air was thick with hidden messages passed between the two members of royalty.  Finally, Remus let his head fall against his friend’s shoulder and wrapped his arms around Logan’s torso.

“Thank you,” he murmured, voice muffled by the fabric of Logan’s jacket.

“You know it’s serious when you start thanking me for things.” Remus snorted.

They stood there for a few more minutes before pulling away.  Logan pressed a kiss to his lover’s forehead and Remus leaned into it.

“You know me too well, fiend.” Logan smiled softly as he picked his crutches back up from against the wall.

“You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”

    -

  Weeks had passed since Remus left Cygnas to return to his own kingdom.  Despite promises from both twins and the king of Ticevas, the pair of princes were still in transit.  Logan was antsy and worried.  The threat of war from the Xious kingdom was getting more and more real, with reports of soldiers being seen at the border, and if Remus had to set off to take care of the admittedly powerful army, Logan wouldn’t see him for several months, if not years.  He needed to sort this out between Xious and Ticevas, even if it was for purely selfish reasons.

Selfish can be described as practical.  That was his story and he was sticking to it.

In their own private letters, passed through business letters addressed to Roman who handed them to his twin, Remus reassured his lover that his brother would be there soon. Yet, Logan’s anxieties still were not soothed.

My bleeding heart,

What do you think of the new introduction? Roman keeps suggesting these ridiculously sappy names for me to call you, but this was the only one I liked, even if I had to modify it a bit. Tell me if you enjoy it.

The Xiousian king visited this past week to try and negotiate with Roman about the contract.  They didn’t really get anywhere, which normally wouldn’t bother my brother, but I had to try even less to piss him off at dinner.  He stormed out and everything.  Quite the dramatic one he is, I have no idea what you see in him.

Speaking of seeing, he plams to be in Cygnas within the next fortnight.  I know you’ve been worried about the war with Xious, but Father is slowly becoming more lenient in his old age.  With our treaty with you and Limora, I think he’s seeing that handing over the food and money this once won’t be an issue (which is what I’ve been telling him from the beginning, but of course, he only listens when Roman says something).

Enough of business.  I miss you, quill.  Kill a flower for me and stare out the window like I’m your husband gone to war.

Yours,

Remus

Logan smiled as he thumbed over the indents in the paper, the spritz of the cologne Remus wore wafting up from the page.  It was a shorter letter than usual, much shorter, but any word was better than none at all, in Logan’s opinion.

It was barely dawn when the letter had been given to him, the poor messenger looking dead on his feet.  It had been difficult to conceal his excitement and relief, but he knew that getting a letter from what everyone thought to be Roman was no cause to be filled with such joy.  Only Roman and the two of them knew of Logan and Remus’ relationship, though he had no doubt that their father knew as well, and turned a blind eye.  As the general of the army and now officially second-in-command to Crown Prince Roman, any upstanding royal or noble family knew how valuable having that connection would be.

Unfortunately, it meant Logan and Remus would never marry.  With the current treaty in place, there was no need to strengthen it with a marriage and Remus’ father, and Roman, after the king died, would need Remus elsewhere for political maneuvers.    

Back in his early days as crown prince, Logan had foolishly hoped that marrying Remus would be an option. Roman was an obvious shoe-in to be announced king even then, (no matter if Logan secretly hoped that his lover would be awarded the honor) and Logan continuously badgered his mother about the potential ways they could fortify the alliance with Ticevas.  The king was sure that his mother knew of his relationship with the prince and both resented her and was grateful for her saying nothing of the matter.  They might have secured a betrothal while Remus’ father was younger and more easily persuaded, but Logan was unsure of his and Remus’ ability to maintain both a burgeoning personal relationship and permanent political relationship in their youth.

 And yet, there was almost nothing Logan wanted more than to fall asleep each night with Remus in his arms.

Logan exhaled and carefully folded the letter back up.  He slid it under the false bottom in one of his desk drawers, relishing in the smell of Remus’ cologne that rose from the letters before shutting it firmly.  Today was too busy for him to be distracted, even if Remus was a wonderful distraction indeed.

He shifted his attention to the documents in front of him and wrinkled his nose.  Taxes were important to his kingdom’s economy, but even he found them dreadfully boring.  The advisors always insisted that they needed to raise taxes on the lower class almost exponentially in order to pay for better cities, but Logan kept them on a tight leash.  The last thing he wanted to do was rob the majority of his kingdom blind.  Not to mention the fact that the taxes were still outrageously high and no one deigned to put the money to good use.  He found it absolutely disgusting how all the nobles in his court refused to pay their own taxes, yet insisted that those who were living paycheck to paycheck deserved to be burgled by their own government.

He had opinions on the matter, not that he was ever that passionate in court.  That would lead to a scandal that he did not want nor need to deal with.  He was fixing things slowly but surely. 

A knock came at the door and Logan called out to permit them entry.  He straightened his posture as his personal steward stepped into the room.  Emile bowed and Logan nodded his head in return, remaining sitting at his desk.

“Good morning, Emile.  I trust you have a reason to be interrupting me at five o’clock in the morning?” Emile smiled at his boss, not put off by the seemingly dismissive greeting.

“Do you how do, Your Majesty?” Emile said instead of answering, a cheeky grin on his face.  Logan’s face dropped into a confused scowl.

“Emile, that phrase is utterly nonsensical, I have no idea why you use it so often,” the king said, looking back down at his papers. Emile laughed.

“It’s simply a fun turn of phrase, Your Majesty, nothing nonsensical about it.” Logan opened his mouth to retort but Emile kept going. “Besides, I have some important information for you.”

“Really? Do share, Emile.” Logan motioned for the steward to continue, still not looking up from his papers.  He heard Emile shift nervously.

“The Xiousian king is here and has requested an audience.” Logan’s head shot up, the quill dropping with a clatter to the desk. 

“The Xiousian king? When did he arrive?” Logan demanded, pressing his weight to the desk and rising from his seat.  Emile grabbed the crutches by the door and swiftly walked over, setting them against the desk for Logan to use if he so wished.

“He arrived mere moments ago, it appears that they rode through the night to get here.”

“Good heavens,” Logan muttered, paling considerably.  It was a quiet for a moment as Logan stared down at the ground, trying to decide what to do. “Alright, you go speak with the king while I ready myself.  Tell him I will be there shortly.” Emile stared at Logan for a few moments, not moving to comply to Logan’s orders.

“Logan,” Emile started, his voice soft, “you don’t have to go and greet him.  I can do so myself and you can take your time.” Logan kept his head down, avoiding making contact with the steward.  “Valerie wouldn’t want you to force yourself to-”

“Don’t speak her name,” Logan interrupted, his voice firm.  “As far as I am aware, I do not know Virgil and Virgil does not know me.  There is no reason for me to hide from him.” Emile opened his mouth to speak, but Logan shook his head. “I’m not having this argument today.”  Emile hesitated before nodding and moving to leave the room.

“I’ll inform His Majesty that you will be arriving shortly,” Emile said softly, before shutting the door behind him.  Logan sighed as the final click was heard, raising one hand to massage at his constricting chest. 

To the world, he was Logan, King of Cygnas, the only child of Monarch Ranal and Queen Leona. 

Valerie couldn’t be a factor in his decisions anymore.

-

Logan threw the doors of the throne room open as he strode in, his ornamental cloak fluttering behind him.  He took advantage of the low pain that day to try and be as dramatic as possible (Roman’s points about theatrics and intimidation had some merit), but he saw Emile standing by the throne, crutches in hand.  Something in him shriveled at the idea that not even his steward thought he could make it through this meeting without buckling beneath the pressure and aching, but he cast it aside.  This was not the time for pride.

He regretted the powerful move when he saw the tiny boy in the middle of the room.  He knew that the Xiousian king was young, having kept track of any news coming from the Xiousian front, but the boy looked so small.  Logan took one look at the kid’s trembling shoulders and stopped in his tracks. No sudden movements, he decided.

“King Virgil,” Logan greeted. “Your presence in my court is highly unexpected, especially at this hour in the morning.”  The boy attempted to straighten up, but the crown on his head tilted to the side. It was almost comical.

“King Logan,” the other king bowed his head. “I have travelled a long time to be here.”      

“And yet that does not answer the real question,” Logan threw back.  He started walking towards the boy, taking note of how the other king winced as Logan drew nearer.  The older king passed by the boy, noting how he didn’t relax until he reached the throne. Logan tucked his cloak beneath him as he sat down. “Why are you here?”

“Well, you must know about how your ally Ticevas and how they have been refusing aide to my hungry people.” Virgil took a few short, yet decisive steps closer to the throne.  Logan had to give it to him; he might be scared, but he was handling it well. Logan cocked his head to the side.

“My apologies, Your Majesty, but that is not the information I was given by the Crown Prince of Ticevas.” The boy glowered and he furrowed his brow.

“I do not know what information the Crown Prince has given you, but I can assure you that if it is anything close to what I believe Prince-General Remus has said to his superiors, it is unequivocally false.”  Logan quirked an eyebrow, but the rest of his facial expression remained peacefully blank.

“You cannot blame me for trusting what has been told to me by the Crown Prince and Prince-General of Ticevas themselves,” Logan lifted his hands from the arms of his throne, folding them into his lap. “I do not intend on changing my opinion on what is true and what is false on unsupported hearsay and beliefs.” Virgil scoffed and he crossed his arms, the movement made slightly difficult by the heavy furs he had draped around his shoulders.

“Do you believe everything the Ticevans tell you?” the boy asked, no hesitance in his voice. “They are known for their dramatics and story-telling, Your Majesty, not every word that comes from their mouths is sure to be true.”  Logan blinked in shock a few times, caught slightly off-guard.  No one had dared question his trust in the Ticevan twins before.

He’d have to do better.

“I’m not sure the Ticevan royal family would entirely appreciate you implying that they are liars, Your Majesty,” Logan said as-matter-of-factly. Virgil scowled, taking impulsive steps towards the throne.  The soldiers flanking the throne dropped into a defensive stance, holding out their spears.  The young king froze and the guards that were with him when Logan entered pulled their swords from their scabbards. “Remigius,” Logan scolded, turning towards his head guard at his right. “Please, show some decorum.” He turned back to Virgil. “My apologies, my liege, as king I am sure you aware of the heightened security.” 

The silver-haired captain-of-the-guard let out a soft scoff as he resumed his stationary position.  Logan shot the man a stern glance but Remy refused to turn towards him.  “Yes, I am aware,” Virgil said warily, and Logan saw him make a soft hand motion out of the corner of his eye.  The guards stood down, their swords back in their scabbard.  One guard, his braids pulled back into a tight bun, left his hand on the hilt. “If I have to ask,” Virgil said snidely, “may I approach, Your Majesty?” Logan gave him a deadpan look but the thirteen-year-old held his ground.

Logan broke first, surprisingly, sighing and waving his hand in a motion for Virgil to step forward. “You may approach, King Virgil.” Virgil didn’t move, instead resting his weight on his heels, a smug smirk on his face.   A ‘well, now that I have permission, I don’t want to do it’ move.  Incredibly immature, Logan noted, but then again, no matter what status Virgil might have, a teenager is still a teenager. “Very funny,” Logan said wryly. 

“Why, King Logan, I have no idea what you mean!” Virgil said in a high-pitched innocent voice.  Logan held in a chuckle.  A few beats passed as Logan stared down at the young boy.

“Why are you here, King Virgil?” Logan said, slightly bored. “You come in with bravado and accusations and you still have not answered my very first question.”  Virgil stuck his nose up.

“We are here to offer a chance of your kingdom surviving the crossfire.” Logan furrowed his brow and sat up slightly in his throne.

“What crossfire.”

“Ticevas has disrespected our sovereignty and threatened us tenfold over.  Xious will not stand for it.”

“And your solution is to kill everything on sight?” Virgil scoffed.

“You have no tact, Your Majesty.” Logan raised an eyebrow and Virgil turned red. “Apologies, that-that was uncalled for.” Logan hummed, amused.

“Join me for dinner,” he said suddenly and he placed his hands against the arms of the throne. “You and your entourage are welcome to stay in the castle for the next week and we can discuss matters in a more private setting.” Confusion flashed across Virgil’s face and he looked towards the guard to his left, a question of whether or not he should accept floating between them.

“I accept your invitation,” Virgil responded a moment later, his eyes still locked with that of his guard. He turned back towards Logan with a polite, sardonic smile. “It was an honor to meet you, King Logan of Cygnas.” Logan raised his eyebrows but did not smile back.

“And it was certainly interesting to meet you, King Virgil of Xious.” Logan pushed himself off the throne, sliding his right arm into the crutch someone in his periphery offered him.  He stepped down the stairs until he was face to face with the Xiousian king.

Virgil was a lot shorter so up close.

Logan offered his hand and Virgil stared at it a moment.  The room held its breath as the Xiousian processed the gesture.  Hesitantly, Virgil uncrossed his arms and gripped Logan’s admittedly much larger hand.  Logan shook once, a firm yet gentle motion, before releasing and walking right past the young king towards the door of the throne room.

At the very least, he had an excuse to write Remus.

-

Remus,

I’m afraid I write to you not with personal anecdotes but with political news.

 T’is dreadful, I’m aware.

The young boy king of Xious dropped by this evening, though it will be a few days past by the time this letter reaches you.  He is small, but skilled with his language.  His father very obviously groomed this boy for the throne at a young age.  He stutters, though.  It reminds me slightly of myself at his age.

I have invited him to stay at the palace for a few days, provided he have dinner with me.  I will write you after the dinner; hopefully I will have more information for you then.  Your brother told me that he threatened war over the treaty, but he seemed quite offended at this accusation, lending me to believe that there has been a miscommunication.  You were there for this exchange? I need both sides here.

Just so you are aware, and please relay this to Roman but do not tell your father, he has given me an offer to avoid crossfires of war.  I don’t pretend to understand why he would offer to have me fight alongside his kingdom or die and then turn around and be offended at me saying that he is planning war.  I fear there are other factors at play, not simply a confused child at the reins of a job that no individual can truly succeed at. 

I hope you are well, my love. 

Sincerely,

His Majesty, King Logan

-

       Preparing for the dinner on such late notice made everyone on the castle on edge.  Logan rarely had visitors as it was and as such, unused guest wings weren’t cleaned with the frequency that was kept throughout the more populated sections of the castle.  If worries of war breaking out over a scared teenager weren’t plaguing Logan with every waking moment, he might’ve taken a moment to thank each staff member that passed him by.

He made a note to up their pay for the month.

“You know I’m not one to question your decisions,” Remigius, Logan’s head guard, said as the king and him walked down the hallway, “but enemy Xious here? In your castle?”

“If I turn them away, I will not gain any information that could actually be of use to our allies.  The Ticevan princes would not lie to me and so I am eager to understand exactly why I’m being told two different stories.” Remigius scowled.

“You’re ignoring all the potential security concerns, babes, we don’t have the manpower to guard all the guestrooms, even if they only have ten in the security detail.”

“It’s thirteen,” the king said offhandedly as they turned a corner. “The person dressed in the steward colors had a knife hidden up their sleeve.  Some type of holster, I presume.” Remigius paused, gaping at Logan – who kept moving down the hall at a rapid pace – before jogging slightly to catch up.

“I don’t wanna even ask how you caught that.” Logan smiled wryly.

“I’m doing everyone’s job at once,” Logan began, his voice vaguely humorous as if he were starting the beginning of joke. “I have to pretend to do yours at one point.” Remigius scoffed and Logan knew he would cross his arms if he wasn’t holding onto his spear. They made their way down the rest of the hall, their voices in a hushed chatter and Remy complained about what an awkward position Logan put him in and Logan shooting back that this is exactly what he hired Remy for.  When they arrived at the door, Logan sighed heavily.  “This isn’t something I want to be doing, Remigius,” Logan said softly. “Preventing a war from happening is just as taxing as fighting the war itself.”

“I agree,” Remy said, “but you have to remember our limits.”  Logan sighed again, before pushing open the door into the small conference room. 

Originally, Logan had a council of advisors and early on in the last day’s of his mother’s reign and the beginning stages of his own, he met with them frequently.  Every book on ruling and being fair that Logan could get his hands on emphasized the importance on seeking others’ outlooks on each decision a ruler made for their country and when he was nineteen and fresh from his mother’s funeral, Logan dove straight into that.  Looking back on it, it was a poor decision.

For many reasons.

Years later, Logan was still stuck weeding out nobleman who gained their positions through willful missights by both his parents or a generous donation of money towards the upkeep of the castle.  The budget for the upkeep of the castle was woefully tight and it had always been that way, so he was sure that his parents squirreled away the money somewhere or maybe wasted it away. 

Presently, Logan still stuck by the idea that a stable king had stable council, but it was increasingly difficult to find said steady council when all the councilors seemed keen on starting wars at every given opportunity.  The only nobles or advisors or councilors Logan allowed in his presence anymore were handpicked himself, regardless of status.

Or attitude for that matter.

Dominic Dormis, known colloquially as “The Critic” and called Dice by everyone who was just out of enough common sense to have a conversation with him, sat in the middle of a long wooden meeting table, papers spread artfully around him.  He was the brother to Remigius, though ironically, it was Remigius who insisted that Logan not hire Dominic.  Logan ignored his head guard’s advice and it was the best decision he had ever made.

“Tell me, Dice,” Logan started, walking over to look over the advisor’s shoulder at the papers sitting in front of him, “how urgently do I need to try and fix this all?” Dice laughed humorlessly as he threw his pen down and leaned back in the chair.

“You’ve made a right mess of this, darling!” Dice exclaimed, tilting his head back to look Logan in the eye. “No matter how often they run the numbers, nothing looks favorable.” Logan sighed deeply, massaging the bridge of his nose.

“Are we really that low on manpower?” Logan asked, his voice bordering on desperate, and screwed his eyes shut. Dice tutted his tongue, motioning towards the papers.

“I haven’t been here all morning trying to spread our defenses across the Xiousian border for nothing, darling,” Dice snarked.  Logan opened his eyes slightly to glare at him.

“We’re aiming for peace, Dice,” Logan snapped, “not to antagonize the same kingdom threatening war by placing our entire military on the border.” Dice just shrugging, looking down at the papers.

“It was the only way I felt we had a chance,” Dice said defensively.

Oh, damn it all,” Logan swore under his breath. “What are your thoughts on Ticevas lying?” Dice just scoffed.

“Please, the boy had a point.  We Ticevans have a tendency for the dramatics.”  Logan scrunched his nose.

“So am I to march up to the Crown Prince and his general brother and tell them to their face that they’re lying? Were they even at that meeting?” Dice shrugged, picking up his quill to dip it into ink and scribble a note into the blank space of one of the pages. “Why is it that when I am listing all the things going wrong, you jump right in, but when I try to figure out a solution, you just sit there nodding?”

“You hired me for a reason,” Dice replied in a singsong voice. “I tell you what you need to hear, Logan, not what you want to hear.”  Logan crossed his arms, his face pinched.

“What do we do then?” Dice sighed and moved his head back down, searching through the sheets of paper.

“You either side with Xious or you get them to back down,” Dice says, reciting the words from a piece of paper held close to his face.  Logan narrowed his eyes and swiped the paper from Dice’s hands, much to his advisor’s indignance.

“Dice, this just says ‘you’re screwed’.  That’s not entirely professional.  I do have to present these papers to the princes of Ticevas.” Dice scoffed, pushing his chair back and kicking his feet up on top of the desk. “And now your feet are on the table.”

“You’re very good at observations,” Dice said wryly. “Look, you have that dinner with the Xiousian king.  Make it count.  Make yourself likable.” Logan moved to open his mouth but Dice cut him off. “Diplomacy and facts might work with more stable-minded individuals, but this is a kid, Your Majesty.  You need to charm him.” Logan tossed the papers back on the table.

“Fantastic.”

“It’s not all bad, Your Majesty.  Emile said that he’s your-”

“No.”

“What?” Dice asked innocently.  He blinked up at Logan. “It’s a good strategy, my lord, it will work, especially on a boy his age.”

“I will not be using my dead sister’s name in war talks, Dice.” The advisor scrunched up his nose.

“Well, yes, when you put it that way, it doesn’t sound all that wonderful.” Logan groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose.  Dice shuffled through his papers and Logan could hear him scribbling down notes and calculations.  “A right mess you’ve made of this, Logan.”

“Don’t pin this on me,” the king hissed. Dice snorted. A knock came at the door. “Enter!”

“Well, hello there, Dice! It’s been a while,” Emile said as he entered the room, shutting the door behind him.  Logan looked up to see Dice waving slightly, leaning forward against the table onto his elbows.

“Hello, dear brother-in-law,” Dice said amusingly. “It’s a shame you are so busy these days, we’ve hardly had a chance to speak one-on-one.” Emile’s eyes crinkled and he laughed.

“That’s what family dinners on Sundays are for, Dice, it’s not my fault you never show up.”

-

“Your Majesty,” Logan greeted coolly, rising up from his seat in order to bow slightly.  His knuckles were braced against the edge of the table, allowing his body weight to distribute. “How kind of you to join me this evening.” 

Virgil stood in the doorway, classic Xiousian furs piled up around his shoulders and wrapped around his head.  His eyes swept across the room, as if admiring each piece of furniture and morsel of food.  His face was shadowed by a thin wrap covering the tops of his head and draped across and around his neck, but Logan could still the stringy black hair that reminded Logan of himself when he was a teenager. The way Virgil held himself reminded Logan even of his parent, which was not necessarily a reminder that he was looking for. If he were superstitious, it would feel like a bad omen.

Logan felt the weight of what this dinner meant settling across his shoulders like a physical presence.  Ever since the meeting with Dice, several other nobleman came up to him, trying to play up the might of Cygnan army.  They acted incredibly patriotic but Dice’s intel (and also that of his brother, Remigius) showed him what their true intentions were.  Deals with investors and black markets across both Cygnas, Ticevas, and Limora could make them rich if Logan decided to follow through with the war. 

None of them seemed to take into consideration quite exactly war would mean for absolutely everyone else.  Sometimes it felt like everyone thought him as naïve as a dog running after a phantom stick.  He was the King of Cygnas, the kingdom associated with all things knowledge.  He had some common sense.

“Come sit,” he invited, motioning to the seat beside him. “My kitchen staff has slaved over this food all day and it would be a shame to let it all go to waste.” Logan busied himself with tucking his coattails beneath him and shuffling his chair closer to the table, but he kept track of the careful steps Virgil took towards the table.  He eyed the guards at the door. 

Virgil’s personal guard followed his charge to the chair, inspecting it before allowing the boy king to take a seat.  Gently, the boy unwrapped the fur shawl from around his shoulders and the guard took it from him, draping it against the high back of the chair.  “It is custom to wear wraps that cover our heads,” Virgil says, his voice tiny in the giant room.  “I hope this does not offend you.” Logan waved his hand in dismissal.

“I hope you are not offended that I am not wearing one myself,” Logan says, motioning for a servant to pour them drinks. “In Cygnas, it’s typical to wear less clothing in the presence of guests, though,” Logan gestured at himself wryly, “the same does not usually apply to the royal household.” Virgil gave a small, but genuine smile.

“My father was a…lover of our culture,” Virgil responded, “as am I.”  He paused for a moment to lift up his wine glass to his guard, who took a small sip.  Whatever the guard was looking for, he didn’t find and he handed the cup back to the teen. “However, I understand that you have your own customs.” Logan nodded, beginning to pick up his cutlery to start eating.

“In Ticevas,” Logan started, “it is customary to bow in a particular fashion before approaching the monarch.”  He gave Virgil a humorous look.  “Of course, when my mother passed, may her soul rest among the stars, I had many things to worry about and I stormed into a meeting with the King before bowing.”  He took a sip of his wine.  “I don’t believe the Crown Prince or his brother have ever let me live that one down.”  Virgil gave him a curious glance.

“Are you close with the Crown Prince and the Prince-General?” he asked innocently.  Logan held back a deadpan look.

“As close as life-long allies can be,” Logan said, a hint of a smile creeping into his voice. “Let’s eat, shall we?”

Logan heard a small, exasperated huff as he looked down to his meal and resisted the urge to chuckle.  The boy was smart, but he had little tact. 

He was doing better than Logan would have done at this age, regardless.

The clinking of ornate cutlery against fine china filled the room as the two began to eat.  Logan could see the young boy struggle to use the wares that were just a tad too big for his hands and wondered how such a boy could threaten war but not know how to handle utensils.

Maybe he simply used swords to eat. 

Logan banished the thought from his mind.  The past was the past, as his mother would say every time the Xiousian king would extend an invitation to his castle.  

Damned Xious.

“How are you finding the meal, Your Majesty?” Logan asked coolly. He didn’t look up from his plate, but he heard Virgil fumbling with the fork and knife.  He ought to stop playing mind games with children. 

“It is suitable,” Virgil replied, his words slightly muffled by what seemed like a mouth full of food.  Logan looked up to see Virgil swallow harshly and washing down the ball of food with a gulp of wine.  “I appreciate your hospitality, King Logan.”  Logan tilted his head to the side.

“I accept your thanks.”  Logan cut a piece of meat, and held it up to his lips. “Your father was a frequent guest at this castle and I hope you will be as well, as you grow into your role as monarch of Xious.”  Virgil nodded nervously, fiddling with his silverware instead of responding. “Speaking of which,” Logan continued, “my condolences to you and your family.  Losing family is something I am woefully familiar with.”  Virgil nodded again; his eyes were downcast.

“May his soul rest among the stars,” the young king murmured. Virgil straightened his back, having slouched slightly, “He was good father to me.  He taught me well.”  He paused for a moment, looking down at his plate. “Though, there is no other family to console.  I am his only heir and my mother died young.” Virgil looked at him inquisitively. “You would have known her, no?” Logan resisted the urge to try and swallow down the lump that had grown in his throat.  He hadn’t thought about Virgil’s mother in a long time.  It was a shock to try and remember it all.  Realizing he hadn’t responded, Logan cleared his throat, busying his hands with cutting a slice of the meat on his plate.

“Yes, I was good friends with your mother,” Logan said, his voice on the edge of trembling. “I simply…forget she is not here with us, from time to time.”  Virgil hummed in response. “Your father was a strong king,” Logan said, instead of continuing down the previous path of conversation, “Do you plan to follow in his footsteps?” the Cygnan inquired after a moment. “He was quite focused on the military, but this is a time of peace, as you must know.”  Virgil froze slightly and Logan resisted the urge to smile.  Finally, he’d pushed a button.  Virgil began to look up towards his guard, presumably for guidance, but he aborted the movement, tightening his grip on his wine cup that he’d reached out for as Logan was asking his question.

“It is quite a…” Virgil paused, quirking his lips as he brought the wine cup up to his mouth, “bold statement to claim peace, considering what your allies in Ticevas have accused of me.” His hands were shaking.  Logan bowed his head in agreement.

“Though, if what you say is true, there is no reason to fear, is there?” Logan tilted his head. “After all, if there is war to be had between you Ticevas, there is little reason for you to be here, at the castle of a Ticevan ally.”  Virgil gulped down his wine nervously and the guard behind him gripped his spear threateningly.

“Peace is a lot harder to defend than a home front, Your Majesty,” Virgil said at last, setting down his glass with a clumsy hand. “It is best to be prepared for the worst, as my father always said.”  Logan raised his eyebrows and Virgil’s shoulders seem to shrink slightly.

“We simply have different tactics then,” Logan shrugged artfully, careful not to become too casual.  The Xiousian guard glared. Virgil shifted slightly in his seat, opening and closing his mouth a few times.

“Uh-” Virgil went red at the noise, busying himself with cutting another piece of meat. “What-What tactics do you employ, then?” Logan looked up from his plate, smiling slightly.

“Cygnans pride ourselves on our practicality.  The budgeting reflects that,” Logan explained, taking a sip from his glass. “We have dedicated numbers for each individual aspect of the government, numbers that are reviewed daily by our famed scholars.” Virgil leaned in closer, his eyes wide. “And what of you? You said that your father always liked to be prepared.”  Virgil blinked a couple times before shrinking back into his seat.

“Well, my father, as you said, was a very strong man and he-he wanted that reflected in his kingdom, I suppose.”  Logan raised an eyebrow.

“You suppose?” Virgil fumbled to correct himself.

“No- not that I suppose, I know that is what he wanted.  He taught me that himself,” Virgil rushed out.  “He always said to me that being overcautious meant two things. One,” Virgil lifted up his index finger; Logan marveled at how small the child’s hands were, “you are prepared for what comes, or option number two,” Virgil lifted up a second finger, “you are pleasantly surprised.”  Taken slightly by surprise, Logan huffed out a small laugh.  Virgil beamed, his smile almost glowing.

It was times like these that Logan had to fight himself to see a burgeoning king, instead of an unsteady young boy.  Logan was lucky he had his mother when his parent died when he was but being the tender age of twelve years old was not a fact that prepared himself for the death of someone so influential.  If not for the queen, he would have been forced to take on the harrowing task of being responsible for millions of people’s lives, something that haunts him in his dreams even at his older age.

“You are quite the comedic guest,” Logan said amusingly. “It’s difficult to catch me by surprise.” Virgil went shy, ducking his head.

“I must give credit to my father then, may his soul rest among the stars,” Virgil blushed. “It was he who said it.”  Logan tutted good-naturedly.

“But it was not your father who made me laugh, was it?”  A glimmer danced in Virgil’s eyes and a fierce protectiveness came over Logan.

“No, I suppose it was not.”

-

They moved to Logan’s official office, not the throne room nor the desk in his room where Logan kept most of his paperwork.  He hated the ornate decoration of the space, the gold-plated wood, and curtains of the that never ran out of dust no matter how often you beat them.  He hated the paintings of the wall, memories of his mother and his parent and his sister.  They were all gone, were they not? What was the point on dwelling on it?

Roman called it unhealthy.  Remus called it remembering the dead how they deserved to be remembered.  Logan called it practicality.

Virgil and his guard followed him inside.  Reluctantly, Logan motioned for his head of security to follow him into the room. Before he shut the door, he motioned for Remigius to come close. “You do not touch a hair on that boy’s head,” Logan threatened, his voice calm and soft despite his words.  “I will not be the one who starts this war.”  Remy gave him an odd look.

“And if he attacks?” Logan sighed, eyeing Janus who had his hand on his charge’s shoulder.  They seemed to be speaking words, but Logan could hear nothing from where he is. 

“If the boy attacks, you go for his guard.” Logan stared Remigius right in the eye. “I meant what I said.” Logan bowed his head, bracing his hands against his waist. “Send word to Dice that this meeting is not to be interrupted under penalty of treason. No one but you, me, and King Virgil and his guard will know what transpires here tonight.” Remy nodded, saluting, before whistling over another soldier to relay the message.  Logan straightened his shoulders, holding his hands behind his back, and turned to face Virgil and Janus.

“Feel free to sit down, we might be here a while.”

-

The room was silent.  You could drop a pin and the sound would ring out through the hall.

“I’m not sure I quite understand,” Logan said quietly, his left hand flat against the desk.  Virgil shifted nervously in his seat, no longer hiding his glances to his guard on his right. 

“I wasn’t at that meeting with the diplomats,” Virgil repeated, before shutting his eyes tightly. “Didn’t- wouldn’t your contacts that were at the meeting have told you this?” Logan looked down at the papers scattered artfully across his public desk.  His memory flashed to the stack of letters hidden beneath a false bottom drawer in his room and the distant feeling of being wrapped around his lover.

“No, they had not,” Logan muttered under his breath.  He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes briefly. “This changes many things, Virgil, I hope you understand.” He jumped at the sound of a thump against the ground, looking up to find Remy in an attack position and the Xiousian guard with a deadly stare.

“That is Your Majesty to you, King Logan,” the guard gritted out.  Virgil averted his eyes from the scene, staring at the carpeted designs on the wall.  Logan blinked a few times before clearing his throat.

“But of course,” he amended. “Please accept my apologies, Your Majesty.”  Virgil nodded sheepishly and the guard nodded approvingly.  Logan motioned towards Remy. “Remigius, stand down.  It was a simple correction on my manners, one that is sorely needed.” Remy reluctantly stood down, casting a wary glance towards the guard. Virgil sighed, burying his head into his hands.

Logan looked at the clock on his desk.  It was getting late.

“How,” Virgil asked, his voice bordering on a whine, “does this change things, your so-called allies refused to give my people aid after we practically kissed their boots asking so.”  Logan shook his head, exhaling.

“No, Your Majesty, that is not what I have been told and that’s what becomes the problem.” Virgil peeked through his hands and Logan’s harsh expression softened and his shoulders dropped. “Your Majesty, I have been told by the Head General and Prince of Ticevas himself that your diplomats promised war if they did not lower the rent and heighten the amount of food Xious could take from the crops.  There was no talk of famine or aid and King Romulus does not take kindly to threats, whether they be true or false.”  Virgil sighed, sinking forward so that his elbows were against his knees.

“What would you have me do then?” Virgil asked. “Call my own advisors and agents liars?  Do you know what that kind of position that would put me in? And let’s not forget the fact that those same advisors were put there by my father and removing them would be an affront to his legacy.”  Logan gritted his teeth and clenched his hand into a fist.

“And what am I to do?” Logan asked, holding a tone of incredulity. “Write to my allies in the South and tell them that it was all a misunderstanding?” Virgil sighed deeply. “Your Majesty, I do not want war.  My people are thriving and bloodshed would stunt that, I know it goes the same way for you.” Virgil shook his head and straightened up in his seat, his face gaunt in the flickering candlelight that brightened the room.

“I would do anything to prove Xious is a force to be reckoned with,” Virgil muttered, rising to his feet. “You would do well to remember that, King Logan, or I will be forced to show it to you.” Logan glared, bracing his hands against the desk as if he were about to stand.

“Does what I just said mean nothing to you?” Logan seethed, leaning closer to Virgil. “If your people are truly facing a famine—”

“-are you doubting the word of a king-”

“-then they cannot handle an invasion!” Logan slammed his palm against the desk.  Virgil’s eyes were wide and angry and Logan’s chest heaved.

“You know nothing about my people,” Virgil seethed.  “Janus, we are to leave immediately.  His Majesty has shown us that we are not respected here.”  Virgil stood up from his chair, but Logan held out a hand, bowing his head towards the wood of his desk.

“Wait.  Please,” Logan breathed. “I don’t want this to escalate.  I lost myself.” Virgil glanced at him with disdain but did not make to move towards the door. “I take your word as truth, Your Majesty, just as I take the Ticevan princes’ words as truth.”

“Then what do you propose, King Logan?” Virgil sneered. “You cannot believe a truth and a lie at the same time.” Logan nodded, setting his hand down.

“Please take my words with a grain of salt, King Virgil,” Logan said softly, looking the young king in the eye. “Have you ever considered that, maybe, your diplomats and advisors are looking for war?” Virgil’s nostrils flared. “No, please, listen.  I am also forced to re-examine my alliance with Ticevas here, this is not just you who is put into a compromising position.”

“Your Majesty, please listen to what you’re saying,” Virgil said after a beat of silence. “You’re accusing my trusted advisors and diplomats of treason.  Of lying to the crown.  That comes at the penalty of death in my country.” Logan nodded understandingly, breathing in deeply.

“Please, stay a few more days,” Logan offered. “Think about this.  Talk with your people and I will talk with mine.  The Crown-Prince is due to arrive as soon as tomorrow and perhaps, we can clear things then.” Virgil glanced at his guard – Janus, he’d called the man – who merely stared back.  Whatever passed between them solidified Virgil’s decision and he turned back towards Logan.

“So be it.”

-

Roman and Remus arrived two days later and Logan felt like he was about to collapse.  Virgil and him had been going back and forth for days, letters arriving by the sack-full, no doubt several angry diplomats coming after Virgil for even thinking that they could potentially be treasonous to the crown. 

Logan himself was dreading such letters coming in from his own advisors, whenever he finally found a way to prune them out, but he pushed that aside.  He had to worry about one thing at a time.  His advisors could wait.

When the Royal Carriage for Ticevas finally arrived, it was like weights measuring a ton were lifted from Logan’s shoulders.  The worry and the anxiety soothed itself and it was like the answer to all his problems rested inside the gilded coach.

“Crown Prince Roman, General Remus.” Logan greeted cordially, a playful smile on his lips. “It is a pleasure to see you so soon after your previous visit.” Logan held out his hand and Remus stepped up, bowing and pressing a kiss to the ring on Logan’s finger. Roman merely smiled, bemused by his brother and best friend.

“King Logan, the pleasure is all mine,” Remus returned, nothing in his voice hiding the utter glee in his eyes. 

“My steward will take you to your quarters and then, perhaps, you could join me in my office to discuss a few things before dinner.”  Remus’ smile grew, nearly splitting his face in half. Logan’s eyes crinkled in pleasure.

“But of course, Your Majesty, your hospitality is most gracious.”  Roman accepted, not-so-subtly bumping his elbow into Remus’ stomach.  Remus scrunched his nose and moved to step on Roman’s foot with his heeled boot, but Roman skillfully avoided the maneuver, following Emile who was beckoning the twins to follow him.  Remus scoffed under his breath as he moved to follow his brother and Logan had to resist a smile.  As Remus passed by, the prince reached out his fingers, the action so subtle, no one but Logan saw it coming.  Logan reached his own hand out, under the guise of adjusting his lace cloak, to brush skin against skin.  He breathed in deeply and it was like the sun had just peeked through the clouds at the end of a horrid winter.

A few, long minutes later, Remus finally entered Logan’s room, shutting the door behind him. “So,” Remus said playfully, “what matters of business are we to discuss?”  Logan laughed and something in his chest loosened.  He unclasped the ceremonial lace around his shoulders, letting it flutter to the ground as he strode across the room and wrapped his arms around his lover’s shoulders.

“I’ve missed you, Remus,” Logan said reverently, digging his nose into Remus’ neck.  He felt Remus lean against him, wrapping his thick arms around Logan’s lithe frame.

“I’ve missed you too, quill,” Remus said, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come alone to see you.  It’s been far too long since we’ve just existed, you and I.” Logan sighed, stepping back but not letting go of Remus.

“I know,” the king said apologetically, moving to brush Remus’ bangs from his eyes. “Maybe that will change one day, but I can live with this.  At least I get to have you in arms once again.”  Remus’ ears went red, but his smile merely grew and he jutted out his chin in pride.

“I’ll go down in history as the one to make the stern Logan of Cygnas crack,” Remus teased, digging his fingers into Logan’s sides, where he knew the king was ticklish.  Immediately, Logan tensed, giggling.  “Aha! I’ve discovered your weakness.”  Logan slapped at his lover’s hands childishly, giggling even when Remus pulled his hands away.

“You menace,” Logan said softly, grabbing Remus’s face between his two hands and pulling him in for a long overdue kiss. “You will be the death of me, I swear it.”  Remus smiled and leaned back in for another kiss.

Eventually, they made their way to Logan’s bed, kicking off extraneous pieces of ceremonial garb and their shoes, determined to be as comfortable as possible without making it difficult to leave the room in a rush.  “Why do we actually have to do things,” Remus whined, shoving his face into Logan’s chest.  Logan chuckled, the sound rumbling more through his diaphragm than an actual noise.  He ran his fingers through the soft hairs at the nape of Remus’ neck.

“We’re royalty, Remus,” Logan said humorously, with the tone of someone whose had this conversation with the other prince many times. “If we don’t do things, other things don’t work.” Remus groaned.

“The other things should be able to figure it out on their own,” he grumbled. “I don’t wanna leave yet.”  Logan pursed his lips, a sorrowful expression taking over his face.

“I know,” he said wistfully, letting his head fall against the headboard. “I don’t want to leave either.” Remus gripped Logan’s waist tightly and Logan lifted his head slightly to look down at the prince. “Is something the matter?”  Remus looked up at Logan, a frenzy in his eyes.

“We should run away,” Remus whispered, careful of anyone sitting outside the bedroom doors. “You and me, we could run away and never come back and they’ll think we died a bloody death and all of our problems would be solved.” Logan smiled softly and brought up his hand to brush Remus’ white bangs from his eyes.

“It wouldn’t be a bloody death if there was no blood,” he critiqued good-naturedly.  “We’d have to find a decent substitute and leave quite a few red herrings for them to follow.  They wouldn’t just see us gone and give up.”  Remus stuck out his tongue, blowing a raspberry, and Logan just scrunched his nose.

“You’re no fun,” Remus grumbled, shoving his face into Logan’s stomach.  “Always making plans make sense and be rational.” Logan chuckled.

“You certainly thought I was fun when we dissected that deer together,” Logan said. “I was so sure my mother was going to barricade me in my room after she saw the mess we made in the dining room.” Remus scoffed and Logan huffed lightheartedly.

“Your mom just didn’t like that we ruined the wood of the table with all the blood.”

“To be fair, that table had been in the castle for over two centuries.”

“Then it was obviously due for a remodeling.  We did her a favor.”  Logan let out an uncharacteristic snort  and he could feel Remus’ smile pressed against his torso.

“Maybe so,” he said, carding his fingers through his lover’s hair. “I wonder what she would think of me now.”

“You are doing a much better job than she ever did.  Not to mention how much better you’re doing than your parent.” Logan sighed, tilting his head to the side.

“Yes, I would hope the bar would be higher than my parent, but I suppose as the next monarch, that is exactly where the kingdom’s standards are at.”

They fell quiet, the only sounds filling the room were that of the steady rise and fall of their breathing.  The sun gradually set in the sky as they spent hours wrapped up in each other, too afraid to let go as if they would be dragged apart as soon as they did.  It had been too long, Logan thought, his head bowed of Remus’ as the prince dozed against him.  He didn’t know if he could do this again.

Eventually, Logan moved Remus’ head to the pillow beside him, waking up the prince from his gentle nap. “Where do you think you’re going,” Remus grumbled, shooting out his arm to trap Logan’s hips against the bed.  Logan smiled softly, but removed the arm from his body, tucking it gently against the prince. 

“Your brother and I need to talk about what’s been going with Xious and King Virgil,” Logan said, swinging his legs slowly over the edge of his bed. “It’s gotten infinitely more complicated than I would have hoped.”

“What’s the way to fix it?” Remus asked, stretching out like a spider across the bed.  Logan pushed himself up off the bed, holding his nightstand as a support.

“At this point, I’m not sure,” Logan admitted, shuffling to his dresser. “I need Xious to agree to not fighting if everything doesn’t go their way and I need Ticevas to agree to providing aid.  They’re in the midst of a famine and Roman has a short temper so high stakes plus-”

“High stakes plus my dumbass twin does not equal peace,” Remus finished for him and Logan snorted. 

“Exactly.”

“What do you plan to do about it?” Remus said.  The king draped his ceremonial cloak around his shoulders and paused.

“I’m not entirely sure,” Logan said hesitantly. “I’m hoping that-” he cut himself off, before glancing at Remus. “I’m hoping Virgil will be a little bit like me.” Remus’ eyes widened and he rolled onto his side facing Logan.

“I’ve got to say, beating heart, that’s quite a tall order.” Logan looked away, avoiding Remus’ cutting gaze.

“Well, it’s my only hope that the boy has a minute amount of common sense in his bones.” He chuckled. “It’s either hope for that or pretend that Roman has all the common sense and I somehow doubt that.”  Remus gave full-body smile and Logan smiled as he stared down at the floor. “I don’t want to leave, Remus,” he said quietly. 

“Come here,” Remus said, his voice holding a sensual lilt.  Logan turned his head back up. His lover had a hand stretched out and a wicked smile spread across his face.

“Remus,” Logan said warningly. Remus scoffed.

“Oh please, we won’t get messy unless you really want to,” Remus teased. “I just- you need a distraction and I can give you that.” Logan swallowed nervously, trailing his eyes up and down Remus’ body.

“Can you?” Logan said at last.  Remus closed his fist in a “come hither” gesture and Logan couldn’t stop himself from indulging, at least one last time.

-

Logan woke up that morning with the feeling of someone slamming a hammer into the inside of his temple repeatedly. 

Now, there are several things to unpack in this statement.  For starters, there is no such thing as a hammer being present inside his skull.  It is impossible and Logan wasn’t sure if a hammer so small with such power could even exist. 

And although Logan continuously prided himself on not believing in the superstitious, his mother’s upbringing had instilled certain fears in him and his inability to even handle the sound of his skin against his bedsheets did not sit well with him.

Pain in his head such as this was usually only cured by drinking ridiculous amounts of water and resting for hours on end.  Logan grabbed the glass of water sitting on his bedside table, drinking it as if his life depended on it, and then slammed it back onto the wood surface as he threw his legs over the side of his bed.

As soon as the cold air hit his knees, he recoiled and tightened his fist in the blankets.  Although Cygnas was in its spring prime, thunderstorms still found their way into the season, as if to plague the king himself. 

Today would not be a good day.

Dressing was a struggle.  He pretended not to see Emile wince as he battled his way into the immense amounts of garb considered necessary at diplomatic conventions.  Navigating his room brought tears to his eyes and frequently, he found himself gripping onto the nearest surface and taking heaving breaths as he waited for the pain in his legs to subside enough for him to keep going.  He knew he was in for it when Emile presented his crutches and he didn’t even think twice before slipping his arms in and resting his entire weight against the mobility aid. 

Logan must have looked as haggard as he felt because every worker of the castle who crossed his path as he dragged himself to the throne room immediately scuttled away, for fear that his temper might cut short with them.

He couldn’t blame them.

Sinking into the plush chair that awaited him in the giant dining room he insisted on eating in each morning was a relief.  The ache in his knees lessened as he stretched his legs out, but every so often, a twitch or a jolt of his body would cause the throbbing to pound in time to the hammer in his head.

Emile set the platter of food in front of him and did not even hesitate before patting the king on the shoulder. “I’ve requested that Remus join you this morning and I’ve given the others orders not to disturb you until you call for me.” Logan looked up at his steward with alarm, but Emile just smiled. “I’m a sucker for romance, Your Majesty, and I’ve known for far too long to not notice the signs.” 

“I didn’t realize we were so conspicuous,” Logan murmured, leaning against the back of the chair. Emile just shrugged.

“You remind me of my husband and me is all.” Emile pat him again, this time on the head, and let a small chuckle loose when the king blinked rapidly in surprise. “Have a good meal, Logan.” 

Emile left the room, skipping slightly, and opened the large doors to run face-to-face with Remus, who smiled so widely at the sight of the steward that even Emile seemed a bit taken aback.  Logan hid his smile behind his hand as Remus lunged forward to wrap his arms around Emile’s waist and pick him up, squeezing the shocked steward. 

When Remus set him back down, Emile wobbled slightly, though the laughing Logan heard from across the large dining hall soothed his worries that Remus hadn’t been gentle enough with his steward.  Emile patted Remus on the cheek gently and the prince beamed as Emile slipped past and shut the door behind him.

Remus’ smile seemed to spread even more at the sight of Logan, however tired and disheveled he looked to the rest of the world.  Whereas Emile’s skip outside of the room was small and barely noticeable, the Ticevan seemed to leap into the air as he wiggled his way to Logan’s side. “Hello, my dear,” Logan greeted softly, careful not to jostle his legs as he reached a hand to grasp at Remus.

“Hey, Logie,” Remus said just as quietly, gripping Logan’s hand to his chest and he sunk to one knee so that he could rest his forehead against Logan. “Emmy told me that you weren’t feeling so spic-and-span.” Logan huffed through his nose in amusement.

“Since when are you on such good terms with my steward?” he asked rhetorically and Remus didn’t so much as laugh as jostle his shoulders. “Are you two conspiring against me?”

“And what if we were?” Remus asked. “Maybe it’s my job to seduce you and then Emile’s gonna, I don’t know, take over the kingdom.”  Logan chuckled out-loud.

“I’m not sure how seduced I can be in this state, but I have no doubt the kingdom would do well in Emile’s hands.” Remus pouted.

“No, Logie,” he whined, “you’re supposed to be a tyrant, not a reasonable human being.” Logan smiled and shrugged his shoulders lightly.

“My apologies,” he whispered as Remus closed the gap between them and pressed their lips together.  Logan breathed in deeply through his nose and shuffled closer, reaching his other hand to grip at Remus’ neck.  They broke apart and Logan sighed happily, shoving his nose into the strip of bare skin at Remus’ neck.

“You really must be going through it if you’re this cuddly,” Remus mused, releasing Logan’s hand so he could card a free hand through soft hairs the base of the king’s scalp.

“All the evidence points towards today not being a good day.” Remus made a sympathetic noise.  Logan pulled back and Remus let him rest against the chair backing.

“Don’t you have that meeting with my brother and the little pip squeak?” Logan snorted.

“I don’t know if the volatile King of Xious would be amenable to being called a pip squeak, but yes, I do.  In approximately an hour and a half, I’ll be trying to stop the leaders of two kingdoms from killing each other.”

“Sounds funky fresh.”

“Where do you even come up with these sayings?”  Remus shrugged.

“I sneak around here and there.  Father is...quite preoccupied with preparations for the coronation so there’s little else he notices, especially regarding my whereabouts.”  Logan tried to make eye contact with Remus, but the prince ducked his head. “I’m truly fine with it, I think I just miss...I miss making an impact,” Remus paused before snorting, “good or bad.”

“Trust me,” Logan said, a bit more sentimentally than intended, “you always make an impact.” Remus gave Logan a smile on the teary side.

“You’re biased, Logan, isn’t that against your whole thing about logic and true verdicts?” Logan made an offended noise.

“It’s an objectively true fact,” Logan insisted. “Nearly everyone would agree with me.” Remus just gave a shrug, still seemingly disbelieving of the king’s statements, but he stopped refuting them, so Logan counted it as a win. 

Eventually, Remus moved to the chair beside Logan and they made their way through the food platter, obviously stocked with some Ticevan delights that few knew were the prince-general's favorites.  Laughing too hard made Logan’s legs ache with the movement and his head continuously throbbed, but the stack of rocks that had built up on his chest seemed to fall over at each joke or hidden barb at his brother that Remus made. The sun slowly rose up in the sky, highlighting the two lovers, whispering and giggling as if they were teenagers all over again.

“It’s been two hours,” Logan remarked at one point, recovering from a bout of laughter that nearly sent him to the floor. Remus shrugged, his trademark rebellious smile playing at his lips.

“And?” Logan gave him a deadpan look.

“I have responsibilities, Remus.” The prince waved a hand in dismissal.

“Responsibilities, shmesponsibilities,” he leaned in closely, shuffling his chair so that he could touch their noses together, “let’s burn this place to the ground.”  Logan smiled, his heart full in his chest.

“So long as my library stays intact, there’s no reason why this place doesn’t need a renovation,” Logan teased.” Remus bit his lip, trying not to laugh, and Logan saw him pump his fist in celebration underneath the table. “Of course, I’m joking, dear Remus, I quite like my home.” Remus ceased his excitement to feign disappointment.

“Oh, you’re no fun, Logie,” he moaned, throwing himself back into his chair.  Logan merely grinned and raised his cup to his mouth, sipping as Remus thrashed about.

The doors to the dining hall creaked open.  It was like a switch had been flipped.  While Remus maintained his strewn about position, he pulled his chair away and spun the food platter so that it was sitting directly in front of Logan.  The king swept a hand through his hair and gingerly lifted his legs from their spot against an ottoman set underneath the table so that he could sit with his back straight.  His hand was clenched around his glass and Logan felt like his heart was in his throat.  Remus, though he mastered looking casual in tricky situations, had a nervous air about him that Logan could feel from where he was sitting.

The guest stepped into the room without much fanfare and turned to make sure the door was shut behind them.  Their white tunic shone brightly in the morning light.  They turned around and the gleaming smile and red curly hair instantly relaxed the entire room.

“You bastard,” Remus groaned, sinking down into his seat. “You fucking bastard.”  Roman merely smiled innocently as he approached the table.  Even Logan slumped slightly, taking a few deep breaths as he lifted his aching limbs back onto the ottoman to stretch out.

“You caused an immense amount of anxiety, I do agree.” Logan said, trying to take another sip of his glass to calm down.

“Not my fault you guys haven’t gone public yet,” Roman teased as he took the seat next to Remus. Remus groaned theatrically and Logan shook his head.

“We’ve been over this, Roman, there are many reasons why Remus and I cannot be out of the metaphorical closet and-�� Roman raised a hand.

“I know, Pocket Protector,” he said, “I was just teasing.” Logan rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to cross his arms in a petulant manner. “Are you ready for the meeting?”

It felt like an avalanche had just toppled over his body, the way Logan felt like he couldn’t breathe.  Chills filled with heat raced up and down his back and he let go of his glass to discreetly wipe his hands against his cloth napkin. “I- I suppose that I am, I have all the documents prepared in the primary office.”  Remus must’ve noticed how he was fidgeting with the napkin because his brow furrowed and he opened up his mouth.  Logan all but threw the napkin back to the table and made quick work of setting his legs back down on the ground, cutting off whatever Remus wanted to say to him.

“Wonderful!” Roman cheered, not noticing the exchange going on between the two lovers, or the immense glare Remus was now sending his way. “I can escort you to the meeting place?”

Logan waved him off. “You go on ahead, Roman, I will have to take my time this morning,” he said as he stood up and slipped his arms into the crutches leaned up against the table.  Now it was Roman’s turn to furrow his brow and grow concerned and Logan cursed the day he became friends with the two princes. “I will be fine.”

Remus huffed through his nose, muttering something under his breath that Logan knew to be calling him out as a liar, but he refused to acknowledge it, only bending slightly for Remus to kiss him on the cheek as Roman stood from his seat.

Roman trailed the way, throwing the heavy oak doors open and all but marched down the hallway to Logan’s office, where the meeting would take place.  Logan struggled to find his footing, the dull throbbing in his head and knees expanded tenfold as he tried to walk to the door.  He felt Remus’ gaze on him, but he refused to turn back, afraid that he would just melt to the ground if he made eye contact.  He walked past the threshold of the dining hall and the guards swung the door shut behind him.

-

Walking to the meeting felt like it took another three hours, though logically, Logan knew it had only been twenty minutes.  Walking without his aids would’ve taken another forty at this rate and quite honestly, he was proud of the pace he was making.   

What was admittedly awful about said twenty minutes was the amount of time it gave him to think.

Logan enjoyed thinking; it was practically his job to think.  Cygnas remained the kingdom with the region’s largest library and it brought him never-ending joy to contribute to that collection.  Studying and researching was a favorite pastime and the only thing he enjoyed about hosting events and having guests was the knowledge they would bring him about their homes and countries.

But this felt like something entirely different than the thinking he had come to enjoy and take pleasure in.  This felt like a worry after worry compounding into itself, growing bigger and bigger until he felt like a small child in the middle of the eye of a storm.

His office door loomed in front of him and the pressure of thousands upon thousands of souls rested heavy on his shoulders.  Memories of his sister and parents swirled around him, ghosts long since dead risen again for the sole sake of reminding him what lay before him should he fail.  His vision swam and had he not been resting steady against his aids, he would have surely toppled over from the weight of his ancestors and their collective duty to protect his people placing itself on to him.

He motioned for the guard standing by the door to open it for him.  There was no ominous creak as it opened, but Logan’s mind filled in the blanks. 

Roman and Virgil sat across from each other in front of the fireplace, an antique tea set sitting between them.  As Logan stepped inside, they both rose to their feet to greet him. “Good morning, King Virgil, Crown Prince Roman.  I am glad to see you both here.”

Virgil bowed, a symbol of respect in Xious.  Logan felt an odd lump developing in his throat, but he swallowed it down.  Based on the growing look of offense on Roman’s face, Virgil had not given the crown prince the same honor.  Roman simply shook his hand and preformed a rune in the air, with a motion to push it towards Logan, a standard Ticevan greeting of monarchs in a formal setting such as this.

Logan nodded his head towards the seats and motioned for Emile, who he just noticed was standing in the corner of the room, to gather the papers at his desk and bring them to where they were sitting. “Let us begin, shall we?”

Virgil and Roman resumed their original positions, while Logan took up the seat that was not usually there at the head of the coffee table.  Emile poured him tea as Logan spread the documents across the table, handing each party a copy of the details they were there to discuss.

“Thank you for hosting this meeting and acting as a mediator, Your Majesty.  It is quite the honor,” Roman said, glaring daggers at Virgil over the tops of the papers he was skimming.  Virgil nodded in agreement, setting the papers to down to pick up his cup.

“I agree with Ticevas, and that is quite the thing to say, seeing as I don’t agree with Ticevas on much of anything at all.” Roman went red in the face and Logan saw the grip on the papers tighten as Virgil innocently sipped at his tea.

“It is my pleasure,” Logan said. “I simply want the best for my people and I have strong evidence to believe that this meeting will be fruitful for all parties involved.” Roman wrinkled his nose.  Logan almost kicked him in the shin.

“I, for one, want this to be resolved.  My advisors grow restless with me having been away for so long,” Virgil said.  Logan furrowed his brow at the mention of the advisors.  He was unsure of how much of the previous conversations between him and Virgil he wanted to bring up with Roman present, but he might ask if Virgil would be willing to discuss more in private.

That is, if everything went well today.

“If it is amenable to the both of you, I would like to begin with the meeting that took place two months ago, as of today.”  Virgil went tense and Roman scowled. “It is to my understanding that neither of you were there at that meeting.”

“That is correct,” Roman said. “However, my brother was there and I trust his word.”

“Your Highness, we are not here to discuss the alleged threatening on either side,” Logan cut in. “If I wanted to do that, I would have let your two kingdoms go to war already.” Virgil snickered, hiding his laughter behind another sip of tea when Roman glared at him.

“I am simply stating my matter on the opinion,” the prince harumphed, crossing his arms.

“I was hoping-”

“I don’t think hope will get you much of anywhere,” Virgil snarked, still holding the cup to his mouth. Logan sighed, his headache beginning to spread to the middle of his head.

“Please, let me speak.” Virgil shrugged, but Logan could see him chewing on the inside of his cheek. 

“The Ticevan land has been rented out to the kingdom of Xious for centuries.  The rates of rent have always remained the same.  Why are you asking for the rates to be changed, King Virgil?”

“My kingdom is in famine,” the boy said primly, jutting out his chin.  “We need food and Ticevas has plenty to share.”

“Ticevas has been plenty generous with the land we’ve offered to you, we have no obligation to give more.”

“Xious offered for you to have the largest military this side of Capemin at your disposal in exchange for lowering the rates for five years, you cannot look me in the eye and say that we did not give you reason to accept our proposal.” Roman looked taken aback.  Logan averted his eyes to the papers on the desk.

“I know Xiousians are a lot of things, but I didn’t know they were liars,” Roman said, almost conversationally.  Virgil startled, looking slightly like an agitated feline.

“Your Highness,” Logan said warningly. Roman waved him off.

“No, no, this is bullshit-”

“Roman-”

“There was never such an offer and I am offended at the mere idea that we would even accept such a savage exchange.” Virgil’s eyes seemed to flash red.

“Savage? If I remember correctly, that land was ours in the first place, but you pushed my people out and forced them to run into the mountains where they barely survived-”

“-I resent this accusation-”

“I didn’t mean for you to enjoy being called a murderer, Crown-Prince Roman, that would be pretty savage if you did.”

“Logan, throw him out.” Roman turned suddenly to the older king.  Logan looked at him over the top of his glasses, flitting back to Virgil who now had his arms crossed and looked five seconds away from storming out.

“No,” Logan said calmly. He saw Virgil blink in surprise. “I invited you both here for a civil conversation and so far, you are being anything but civil-”

“He started it-”

“-and you’re not even letting me finish my sentences.” Roman’s nostrils flared and his hands clenched into fists at his side.

“Is Cygnas not a Ticevan ally?” Logan looked nervously at Virgil, but the younger king avoided his gaze.

“Yes, but-”

“But nothing, Logan, you should be supporting me and tossing this riffraff out with the rest of his kind.”

“Your Highness, I will do no such thing.” Roman paused in his motions, unnervingly still.

“Fine.” Roman stood up.  Virgil shrunk back and Logan became viscerally aware that this was not a private conversation between him and a friend about his temperament, but rather a political discussion over whether or not war would break out between their three countries. He had forgotten himself and now everything hung in the balance. “Ticevas officially removes herself from this meeting.”

“Roman, sit down,” Logan demanded, his voice calm even if his hands began to shake. “You don’t want this to go where you’re thinking.”

“Just because you have a soft spot for the boy doesn’t mean I do, Logan,” Roman seethed.  “I don’t have to listen to you and I never have.  I should have ignored you from day one, Logan.  Valerie is dead. Deal with it.”  Roman stalked out of the office, his sleek boots hitting the stone ground sounding like the din of a thousand soldiers marching on the city gates as the noise echoed around the room.

“Valerie?” a questioning voice came.  Logan’s tunnel vision receeded slightly to accompany Virgil in his periphery. “That is my mother.  You were friends- is that why I am here? Because you pity me?”

“No,” Logan ducked his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You- you don’t respect my country or my people, do you?” Logan’s shoulders scrunched forwards, the sheer anger in the child’s voice making even him panicky. It was all falling apart, all the diligent planning, all because he couldn’t handle the pressure of his sacred duty as king.

“If you would let me explain-”

“No! No, I don’t think I will, because you lied to me!” Virgil shouted, his chest heaving.  Logan felt his anxiety crawl into his throat, squeezing his vocal folds shut.

“I never lied to you,” the older king croaked. “And none of this is about you being Valerie’s child, I assure you.” Virgil narrowed his eyes at him, any hint of the camaraderie they had developed over the past few days gone.

“You can’t prove that.” Logan swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry.

“When you showed up, my steward told me that I had the right not to speak with you, but you know, I know-” Logan cut himself off, trying to stave off panicked tears. “It was either speak to you or let my country burn to the ground, I had heard what Ticevas was warning me over and it wasn’t about manipulation, it was about protecting my people.” Virgil stared at him.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Then how do I make you believe me?” Logan exclaimed. “How do I prove what is intangible? That just because Valerie is my sister does not mean that I wanted to control you and your kingdom?” Virgil paused.

“My mother was your sister?” he asked, the quiet room coming to a standstill.  Logan’s face crumpled.

“Virgil-”

“My mother was your sister?” Virgil shouted, cutting Logan off. The older king sighed, his hands clenching around his knees.

“Yes, but-”

“If I die, you have a claim to the throne! You could take over!” Virgil said incredulously.  Logan’s heartrate went through the roof. “Is there poison in my cup? An assassin laying just outside the room? Were the Ticevan disagreements just a ruse to get me here and kill me in my sleep?!” Logan shook his head.

“No, of course not, that would only harm my people, I want peace, Virgil-”

“No, I will not hear it, Xious will not hear it.”  Virgil stalked over to the door, throwing it open.  He looked over his shoulder, making eye contact with Logan. The burning hatred in his eyes made the older king feel faint. “This is war, Cygnas.  You will have my kingdom over my dead body and I don’t intend on living this realm anytime soon.”

The door slamming shut behind Logan’s nephew sounded like an arrow from a firing squad hitting its mark, right in the center of his chest.

[greycappedjester]

If it’s ok, could we get a small clip of the next chapter?

Sure!....which story?

Um, here’s one for all of them. It’s long (very, very long) so I’m putting it under “Read More”

(All story segments are not fully edited and may change)

Tooru Oikawa and the Triwizard Tournament

Yamaguchi squinted towards the other side of the Great Hall. “So have they….made up now?”

A few tables down, Kageyama and Hinata seemed to be in the middle of a very loud and very spirited argument on whether condiments could ever count as side dishes. Grievous insults to intelligence had been made and threats of murder were likewise issued.

“I think so.” Ennoshita didn’t sound confident.

Hinata attempted to tackle Kageyama off of his bench.

“But, they’re still not playing together for Quidditch,” Yamaguchi confirmed

Kageyama shoved an apple in Hinata’s face.

Asahi watched wide-eyed. “They said they couldn’t yet.”

A resulting debate over the term 'breakfast fruit’ emerged. It was somehow even more heated.

“But, they’re not fighting?” Yamaguchi had to confirm.

“Suga says they aren’t,” Daichi said.

They had now decided to share the apple. Yachi beamed from beside them. Lev booed.

Yamaguchi decided there and then. “I’m never going to understand their relationship.”

“They’re idiots,’ Tsukishima concluded.

And, thus, the most watched and highly contentious fight of the entire school year--Tournament included--finally came to its baffling end.

--------

After the Fall of Olympus

(Sorry, it’s a depressing one--partly because I can’t take out much from the chapter without giving away a really major spoiler that’s revealed in the first scene)

Dick and Donna have this thing they do. 

It started maybe three years after the invasion, before Kory’s ship landed, and when everything was still raw but finally slowly trying to get better. 

They’d been in the tower alone, both on monitor duty, when Donna had turned to him and out of the blue asked, “Dick, tell me about Wally West?”

“What,” Dick had asked, too surprised even to feel the pain that sharply.

“You and Roy mention him every now and then. He was your best friend, right? I want to know more about him.”

Dick had just stared. Stared until Donna had admitted in a too quiet voice. “I’m tired of not being able to talk about them.”

So Dick had talked. At the start, it wasn’t even about anything important. Just about what a huge chemistry nerd Wally was. How he flirted with girls non-stop. The time he’d tried to phase through a wall and got half way through before panicking. And then, slowly, Dick moved on to important things. When Dick first told him his secret identity. How Wally had wanted to grow up to be just like his uncle. What Dick had felt when he saw his body.

Donna talked, too. About her sister. About growing up with Diana, about the numb shock watching her death on the news, about wondering if her sister would be proud of her and the a million and one times she was scared of living up to the reputation.

It became a routine. Not every day. Not even every few months. But, now and again, one of them would seek the other out and Donna would talk about Diana or some of her other Amazonian teachers lost in the invasion and Dick would talk about Wally and M’gann and Artemis and Connor and Kaldur and….and Bruce. One time, Dick even talked about Superman.

They talked and the pain didn’t go away--not fully, not ever--but eased until they felt like they could breathe again, until they could remember a past that was colored by more than just the pain of their deaths.

-------

Walking With My Eyes Open

Gen wasn’t a kind man; he was pragmatic.  And he’d long decided he’d do absolutely anything, sink to any kind of low, be however ruthless he needed if it meant saving Senkuu’s life. 

So….

Decisions, decisions.

He shredded a petal under his nails and tossed it down.

“Gen?” A blonde head popped up beside him. “What are you doing?”

He smiled, making sure it was a soft one despite his mood. Because he absolutely believed in playing favorites and when it came to the village--to his entire life, actually--it wasn’t hard to guess the people that rested on top.

Suika smiled back, a glimpse of bright blue eyes shining through the shadows of her mask. Then, she tilted her head and lowered her voice. “Are you hiding from work?”

Gen laughed, pressing a finger to his lips. “Maybe a bit. Don’t tell on me, okay?” He winked. “Besides, I was considering some options. Thinking counts as work, too, doesn’t it?”

Suika nodded, glancing down at the growing pile of mangled petals then to the daisy Gen was still steadily demolishing. “And the flowers are helping you think?”

Actually, Gen had just been feeling murderous towards flowers lately. Call it enacting justice vicariously.

“Not particularly.” He picked up another flower from beside him and instead of shredding it, started to fold. “You’re right. I think there’s a better use for these.”

A few more quick movements and he wove a flower bracelet, just small enough to slip over Suika’s wrist. 

Her grin brightened, looking at it like it was the next great marvel--so, at least Gen had accomplished one thing today.

“It’s so pretty,” Suika said, looking up to see it closer. “And the flowers are so close together. Can you teach me?”

“Sure, once we get some more flowers.” He picked up the last one, winding his fingers around the stem. “You know, now that you mention it. There is an old game about flowers and decisions. Want to hear it?”

Suika sat patiently in front of him, eyes fixed on the daisy because of course, she wanted to learn. What other village could this be?

“It’s very simple.” Gen counted off with one hand, flower in the other. “Two phrases, you pick a petal on each and the one you land on is your answer.” Gen picked a petal. “He loves me.” Another petal. “He loves me not….” 

Suika gave a small gasp. “Flowers can tell you if someone’s in love?”

Gen didn’t laugh because he knew it would be bitter.

“No,” he said quietly. “It’s just a game. Back before--ah, before even me and Senkuu, that is--ladies would play it to see if their beloved would ever return their affections. It’s silly.”

“So…,” Suika thought a bit, “it’s like a wish, then?”

“I think I’m using it more as a hex,” Gen muttered as he got to the last petal and glared.

He loves me.

Well, fuck. 

Gen supposed that’s what he deserved for trusting flowers.

He gave his largest, most theatrical sigh for Suika’s sake. “Ahhh, Suika-chan, look at that! It seems like I lost. More’s the pity for me!”

Suika grinned up at him, hopping to her feet and wrapping her arms around his hips. “It’s okay! I still love you.”

Gen patted her head, smiling despite himself.

“Maybe you were using the wrong flower,” Suika told him.

“Could be.”

“I’ll go get more,” Suika promised. “Then, you can find one that’ll work.”

“More flowers is a good idea,” Gen agreed. “But, I think I’m tired of this game. Why don’t I teach you how to make the best flower crowns in the entire stone world? Then, we’ll both have to be the most beloved people in the whole village, won’t we?”

Immediately, Suika ran off to the woods and Gen watched her go.

At least, flowers could do good somewhere. 

He looked down at the mangled flowers. A daisy, purity and innocence.

With a shift of his heel, he ground them a little further into the ground..

Flowers were an awfully pointless thing to blame; but, Gen was petty and they were easier than the alternative.

Still. He taught Suika how to make flower crowns and when she pressed one last bloom into his hand, so excited to find the last one of the season, he took it like his heart hadn’t plunged to his feet.

It was hard to look at black nightshade and forget it was a poison.

-------

Call Me Your Home At Night

(Note: very, very subject to edit. Part of the reason this one has taken awhile is rewrites while I work on tone)

Atsumu was shouting--voice tinny over the phone speakers--and Hinata’s blender was doing its best impressions of death throes while Hinata frantically tried to keep both the chord at the one angle it worked and hold the blender’s lid down so the entire kitchen didn’t end up coated in a weird grey mix of protein shake and bananas. Again. For the fifth time. 

In other words, it was a normal morning. 

From the part of his mind that noticed these things, Hinata thought it was kinda funny that Atsumu had learned to time his complaining to coordinate with the aggressive disaster that was Hinata’s morning routine.

Like the world’s weirdest symphony, the opposite of harmonizing. A disharmony! That was it!

“Seriously, what the fuck is a ward court and how is it different than a family court? Why do we even need two courts for divorce? Huh? Why not just shove a paper at us and have it done!” Atsumu’s voice got increasingly petulant. “Shouyou, it’s like the entire country is trying to keep good, decent people married! Why does it hate us?”

It was a close call; but, in a competition between one aggravated setter on speaker phone and the relentless whirring of the cheapest blender Hinata could find on the internet, Atsumu still managed to fight his way through.

Hinata gave the phone a sympathetic look even if he knew Atsumu couldn’t see it. He turned off the defeated foe and mentally crowned Atsumu the winner of Disharmony 2016: Blender vs. Atsumu edition. Not that he had much doubt. 

“Find anything you like with grounds for divorce?”

Atsumu grumbled which meant no.

Then, Atsumu huffed which meant no and the world wasn’t fair!

So, apparently, divorce was harder than it looked. Actually, a lot of things about this “being married” thing were more complicated than they thought and, in the month since they’d been technically married, Hinata had frequently and strongly fantasized about grabbing his past self by the shoulders and shaking him while screaming ‘WHY?!’ right at his face.

Like taxes!

Who knew how to do taxes? Who knew that taxes were apparently due this month? Including married people taxes which apparently were more complicated and had things like joint filing or separate and dependants and a bunch of other words that Hinata still didn’t understand completely. It wasn’t like he could ask his Mom for help after everything or even beg Yachi or Kenma like usual because that would bring up the whole marriage thing and, ugh, no, no, no, no.

Hinata was pretty sure he and Atsumu had figured it out. Enough, at least. Getting arrested for tax evasion seemed like something that only happened on the news so it was probably fine.

Uh, so, yeah, between the whole moving to Brazil thing and figuring out stuff like rent and utilities and meeting the indoor volleyball team he’d be working with plus some of the beach volleyball players and trying to get his new roommate Pedro to talk to him about things other than laundry and groceries and trying to remember the difference between bolo and bola and finding a job and Atsumu dealing with MSBY promotion stuff and interviews and getting ready for pro-volleyball next season and then them both having to deal with stuff like taxes and still being weirded out about all the accidental wedding stuff in general, they…..well, they hadn’t gotten much done about the whole divorce thing.

Okay, more like they’d gotten exactly one thing done and that was figuring out a time to freak out about all the things they hadn’t gotten done. The good news was that the exactly twelve hour time difference was sorta perfect since it meant Hinata got back from his morning jog about the same time Atsumu came home for dinner, which meant that quickly became their agreed time to call with updates.

….which usually tailed off into both of them talking about volleyball instead because volleyball was a whole lot more fun.

Hinata very carefully pushed aside the resulting mental montage of sand scraping along his arms on a missed receive and feet sinking into the ground and landing face first in burning sand that was happening way more than he’d expected.

Hinata shook his head, scraping the not-very-blended protein shake out of his blender. “I’ll try to look some stuff up this afternoon.”

“Isn’t your laptop still being screwy?”

“...Maybe.” It was more like Hinata’s ancient laptop had given a sudden death kneel--complete with hisses and the screen flashing--and Hinata was sorta scared he’d get electrocuted if he even touched it. “I’ll use my phone.”

“I could just buy you a laptop, you know,” Atsumu muttered. It wasn’t the first time; Hinata even knew his next line.

Hinata grinned. “That’s really sweet, Atsumu. Absolutely not, you’re already doing enough of the research anyway.”

“Shut up,” Atsumu grumbled. “I am not sweet, this is a trade. Your laptop’s a piece of crap, like actually the worst and I--like any normal human being--am doing my part in putting it out of its misery. Basic compassion right here.”

“But, I don’t need a new laptop,” Hinata insisted like he always did. “I’ve got my phone. That’ll work until I get a job.”

Which he was totally going to get. Soon, too. It was just a little harder than he thought when he didn’t really have a great grip on the language yet.

“Hinata, I’m begging you as a friend here, please don’t resort to selling your organs on the black market.”

Hinata rolled his eyes. “I would never do that. I need them for volleyball.”

“Is that seriously the only reason?”

“Think about how long surgery recovery would take,” Hinata teased. “I only have two years here.”

“I worry about you. Like fundamentally.”

Hinata tilted his head. “But what if I could get like super organs instead.”

“Like Terminator?”

“Yeah! I’m pretty sure I read a manga where that happened once.” He paused. “Oh my gosh, Atsumu, imagine how amazing volleyball would be with superpowers!”

“There’s no way the V.League would approve that.” Atsumu breathed in. “But, what if…”

“I’d get super speed,” Hinata broke in excitedly, “or maybe flying. Oh, or super strength! Imagine hitting a spike with super strength!”

“Awesome!” Atsumu’s voice was speeding up. “What if I had one of those specialty powers like super precision or something! It could get around so many blockers; Suna would be so pissed off! I could set the ball anywhere!”

Hinata huffed. “You already do that.”

Atsumu broke off, sounding pleased. “Really?”

“Of course,” Hinata said. “Hey, wait, how was practice? You got to meet the new libero, right?”

“Yeah, Inunaki--he’s pretty cool. He was mainly working with--” Atsumu cut off, “Fuck, Shou, I gotta tell you about this thing Barnes and I did!”

Atsumu started rambling--words choppy and quick as he got deeper into the retelling of practice in a way that had Hinata hanging off every word. In an abstract sense, Hinata knew that he himself was a people person; he’d always been good at making friends and deeply appreciated every single one he was able to hang onto.

He’d never had a friend like Atsumu.

-------

Shuffling the Deck

(Since it’s late, have an entire opening scene)

ooooooo- 30 Years Prior -ooooooo

Once there was a girl who grew up with her grandmother in a barely patched house, closed in by cliffs.

She was a quiet girl, a pretty face and delicate hands always kept clean despite the threadbare clothes that hung more like rags. The girl did not like to play with the other children which was fitting as they didn’t much like to play with her either.

Instead, she liked to read.

And, more than that, she liked to watch the garden.

Which is what she chose to do, one day at eight years old on the same morning a prominent merchant staggered in to see her grandmother--a terrible illness spreading through his veins and blood in his cough.

The girl was fine with blood but didn’t care for coughing so she stayed exactly where she was, laying on her stomach with head propped in hands while she took in the delicate threads of a spider web.

She always thought the webs were the prettiest part of the garden. They were so very thin and frail that one could barely notice them until they got up close. And, then, once they saw them, they could see the patterns and shapes so carefully woven as if by an artisan.

Sometimes, she even saw the spider. 

Sometimes, she tried to get it to crawl to her hand.

 It never did though. No matter what she did. The spider was too cautious, too scared of what it believed had power over it.

That was how spiders worked, really. They spun their masterpieces with so much care and precision and, then, they waited patiently for the art to be observed.

The girl was not the only one who found the spider web this morning.

A fly had come across the threads first--likely by accident but the girl liked to imagine that it was the beauty that had drawn the fly in the same as it had done her.

She wondered if the fly still appreciated the art of the web.

It was still alive.

She watched it struggle. Its wings beat uselessly, its many legs trapped in the delicate threads, and a buzzing cry sounding so frantic for such a small creature.

For a moment, she debated on saving it.

She could, of course.

But, that would mean tearing down the gorgeous web that she adored.

But, that would mean the spider may starve and there would be no new web tomorrow.

And, besides, why did she care about dirtying her hands for the sake of a dying fly.

The door of the cottage opened and the girl glanced up idly.

The merchant was stumbling out, gratitude and lavish promises on his breath and a healthy glow back in his cheeks. Her grandmother was smiling kindly, accepting the praise yet turning down the offers same as she always did until eventually the merchant went away.

The girl looked back to the web.

The fly was dead, quickly being wrapped up by the spider to save for later.

She turned back to her grandmother. “He was rich, you know? I heard the other kids talking about him in town. His shipping business goes all the way up to the wealthy islands in the north. If you let him do even half the things he offered, we could live in a mansion and you wouldn’t have to hurt your fingers so much mending clothes.” The tone wasn’t accusing, merely curious. “Why did you say no?”

“Oh, my dear,” Her grandmother leaned down to kiss her hair and the girl allowed it, “because our powers are a gift. They’re not meant to be hoarded and offered for a price. They’re meant to be shared. Besides,” the woman sighed as she watched the road, “what kind of price would that be? Who would I be to demand it? Those who are desperate--for their lives, for those they love--would pay anything. They’d do anything. Who could ever put a price on such a weight? It’s beyond human measure.” 

She smiled down at her granddaughter. “Do you understand, my darling Mimi?”

Maemi frowned before nodding, looking down at the spider web. 

“Yes, I understand.”

There was no way to know what would have happened if the old woman took up the merchant’s offer. Likely she never would have. She was not that type of person. All that there was to know is that the grandmother and the little girl remained at the patched up cottage, just like they had the girl’s whole life and her grandmother’s life before hers.

They were there six months later when the oceans swelled and brought the waves into shore. 

They were not both there after.

Six months later, a man and a girl waded through water as they searched a broken down cottage for survivors.

Well, the man searched at least.

The girl had stopped beside a tree, tall and strong enough to survive a tsunami.

On the bottom branch, at the lowest hanging twig, was a spider’s web just barely managing not to be swept into the water.

The spider was still alive.

But, it wouldn’t be for long.

It struggled, trying to climb up faster even as the bottom of its beautiful web was destroyed by the current.

For a moment, she debated on saving it.

She could, of course.

So, she did.

She snapped a twig from another branch and held it out for the spider to crawl, too. It did willingly, anything to avoid the water below.

It had never crawled to her hand before.

Not like it did now when it was desperate for life.

Maemi watched her dear spider crawl into her open hand.

And, then, she plunged her hand into the water and watched her dear spider drown.

“Yes, grandmother, I understand completely.”