#but a lot of countries have royals who really are Just figureheads | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

inlocusmads · 5 months

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"What sort of monarchy does your OC belong to? Do they like this style?" for Trystan! Sending so much love your way. ❤️❤️❤️

Thank you so much for this, Anon! Sending a lot of love to you as well! <333 I hope you're doing well!

send me some royalty asks

What sort of monarchy does your OC belong to?

Drakovia, at least in accordance with canon is a form of constitutional monarchy - but really the power is concentrated among a few parties, as very sparsely exhibited in the same canon. Trystan's mother, Viktoria happens to be the 'judicial' authority - assuming the position of a chief justice on supreme-court cases.

I'd also like to think it's a case of a 'mixed' monarchy from a broad standpoint, but Viktoria and Maksim likely work with a panel of members comprising of a council - where ministers are appointed and local body representatives making up this unicameral legislature.

A figurehead and a hail-mary vote all conjoined into one, it is no surprise the kind of responsibility that carries onto the next monarch is two-fold: one, to uphold the culture and traditions of Drakovian society and represent them on a global scale but also be another voice for the people to take decisions on national matters or approve of laws, recommend laws and such.

I'm also going to take some creative liberties here, going, the power structure isn't really-- that strict, so to speak. The Drakovian monarchy has likely existed for hundreds of years - or at least, the feudal system is so ingrained in the society that they've managed to continue updating it as it is.

The monarch both possesses absolute power whilst at the same time, remains a voice for the people in the council they would likely head. It is a lofty responsibility and a kind of system with a lot of internal fractures - much like any other system of governance where transparency is a massive issue and it is imperative you play this long political game for the welfare of your own people.

This is just from my point of view and I am no political expert, but the very reason Viktoria and Maksim agreed upon sending Trystan away on an exile, might likely because of how credible it might seem for the family as a whole. I have no doubt anti-monarchist sentiments exist in the country, as opposing parties exist with their own opinions and thoughts.

At the very heart of the matter lies this issue of transparency, since if the monarch were to get absolute power, they could play whatever game-for-profit without experiencing a threat to their position (duh!) and to kind of take accountability, sending Trystan away might swing the public opinion in Juliana's favour - thus treating the people in the royal family as entities and not parts defined by their association to the whole.

The more I think about it, the more it makes sense why each member in the family is given this personality they had to somehow play into.

Vasili is the "smart" one, the one who has taxation laws in memory in his head. Lydea's approach is methodological, she's careful, she's planning and running her side of things like the Navy. Sebastyan is the 'groundbreaker' - he's younger, he's charismatic by the people around him. Emika and Kasper are wildcards in their own ways - even if they are far behind on the line of succession. Marguerite's view of Drakovia would be for the country to be a global player - to focus on its strengths and branding. Patryk.. well, he exists.

It isn't just limited to the children. The adults continue to rehash the same exact policies, beliefs, over and over again and by the end of the second book, not much has happened significantly. Vasili's whole conniving plot falls short and the impact of the Thornes "treating the people royal family as entities and not parts defined by their association to the whole" kind of backfires, after how terrible the internal discord in the family got.

Do they (OC) like this style?

I explore a lot more of this from Trystan's point of view in my series, Second Language. It doesn't delve deep into the politics, but it gets into Trystan's head. He is unsure of what he wants to do as a kid, because he is quickly inculcated into this life as a future monarch. He doesn't get options despite the amount of wealth and the opportunities it can buy. Everyone is involved in playing active administrative roles even when their abilities could be best utilized for something else entirely.

An example of this would be Mags choosing a fashion career over being a 'foreign ambassador' or whatever reason she supplied to keep an eye over her brother in New York. Or Patryk forfeiting his position to become a social media influencer. Or Emika and Kasper getting out of sticky-fingered situations-- wait, it is almost as if the younger Thornes are able to escape this "doomed by the narrative" situation, when they are equally deserving of the throne, their position on the family tree equally important -- and how the monarch is such a disposable yet important position that two people almost die for it.

I would say the pressure gets to Trystan a lot. It isn't like he doesn't have any 'branding' ammunition like how fashion is to Mags as 'being tough' is to Lydea. He does have sparse slivers of it and would have bold ambitions to bring about a change to the Drakovian system. He sees the flaws every single day - how corruption leads to chaos within the family. He wants to be a part of the new change, but doesn't know where to start. Or if he wants to start, even.

It's kind of a sticky situation. The 'system' - an oversimplification - is broken and you could either dismantle it - take it apart piece by piece or fix it and almost everyone in his family carries some opinion of it. Since Trystan was trained young - the transition from being a kid one day and waking up and learning you'll be prepared to be the next king, when yesterday, you were still writing essays for books, is just difficult to adjust to.

Trystan's problem arises from his ability to pose a ton of questions. He sees how it isn't always black-and-white and that, taking sides only cultivates this polarizing opinion. It is his nature to ask tough questions, to look at it from an outsider's perspective as opposed to viewing it from his own high chair.

In a system that is both inviting and shut behind closed-doors of a tall palace, it insists you develop a tough, callous personality while fatiguing you out if you choose to participate. If not, it completely isolates you. The family dynamic is so closely associated with the workings of the State that it becomes its own independent autonomous body over time.

This is why Trystan had a hard time, because he posed questions as a kid and continued doing so well into adulthood. He was resourceful in a way that made him understand how this system of monarchy didn't stop at the political orientation and its workings, rather how it seeped into every single aspect of his entire life.

How even in cases where you can't put things into X versus Y, it still happened. How in cases where you would need to consult a consituitional mediator, they still refused to do so - assuring him that the system is supposed to work exactly as it has always intended to work and moving a single thing across the board would absolutely destroy it. It's not always simple, yes, but if it doesn't answer a few handfuls of questions, what is it, really?

It is difficult for Trystan to take a tangible stance, because he was benefitted by the same system that tore him down and left him with nothing. It is difficult to valiantly press for change when he knows what would fall should the system be threatened. He knows it is equally difficult to advocate for change when the system considers it and itself a seperate threat. He might not understand the nuances of the political climate with just very little experience administrating, but knows there is more to this petty game than picking sides, because not only does it affect the players, it also affects the people.

Which is why Trystan chose to abdicate. Not because, in my HC, for love or for a better life in New York or this "freedom" shtick, but because he just had the hardest time there. He knows what Drakovia is standing on, won't answer to his questions, won't help him understand what the objective goal is or heck, even make him wonder why he spent all that life serving for a kind of authoritative body that makes him look like a fool - that undermines his word to pump up someone else's. How it fails to acknowledge a larger world in front of it, while at the same time, invites the larger world to participate - only to shut the door at its face.

He chose to abdicate because in his heart, he believes Drakovia could benefit from change. That his questions might be poorly translated into half-fulfilled reforms. That while change is something he condones, he isn't the person for the job. Not after standing idly by to watch his brothers go against each other. It took a lot of thought and it seemed only right to let the crown go to Lydea - who has done enough to "steer the country to the 21st century" and would be better suited to lead the country down waves of change than him.

***

This is such a broad topic I'd love to talk about it some more! I'm sorry it got rambly towards the end lol, def not my intention! Thank you so much for this Anon!

#royalty asks #thorne rose headcanons #askboxed!

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ellesliterarycorner · 3 years

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Writing Royalty

Ah, royalty, Kings, Queens, princesses, Henry Cavill as the Duke of Suffolk in the Tudors, what’s not to love about fictional royalty. I think almost every WIP I’ve ever written has somehow involved royalty. There’s just something about writing royalty that I’ll always love and find interesting. But, especially for my current WIP, writing royalty has involved a whole lot of research that has been fun if not a little tedious at certain times. So, here are some of my most useful tips and tricks about writing royalty in your story.

Yes, They Actually Work

I mean unless you’re making a character choice that your royal character pawns all of their work off on their secretary or First Minister or Steward or whatever, then royal people actually do work. Especially in countries where they have absolute power and aren’t helped or overseen by a parliamentary council or something of the like. Then, they really have to work. In countries where the monarchy is more a figurehead then yes they definitely don’t do as much work (see the British Royal Family), but in my WIP, where the royals have pretty much most of the power, they all have to do a lot of work. Between all the scenes of plotting and romance and murder, I have scenes of them reading reports from ambassadors, signing treaties, looking over expenditure sheets. That’s one of the things that bothers me about a lot of books featuring royalty. The authors go on and on about how busy all the royal characters are and how good they are at ruling, but then they never show them actually working. And, I understand that that might be boring for readers, but maybe at least mention it once or twice. If your royal characters don’t want to get like ya know executed or deposed or something, then they probably want to have some hand in running the country and doing the work.

But Do You Actually Wear A Ballgown All Day?

I’m thinking no, but please, prove me wrong. Even back during Queen Victoria’s times or the times of the Romanovs, the royals didn’t wear their beautiful full length, full-court dress ballgowns all day, every day. That’s just impractical and unrealistic. If your royal character is at their family’s private home for the summer or winer or whatever, then they’re probably not wearing a whole bunch of fancy clothes. All the fancy dresses and crows and tiaras we associate with royalty and nobility, were basically their Sunday best clothes, not clothes they would wear every single day. Now that’s not to say that their causal clothes probably wouldn’t still be expensive and well-made (but not always, the Romanov grand duchesses were known to wear cotton dresses when they were in private during the summer). And, y’all, I swear if your story takes place during a time period when corsets are used please do your research about them, and any clothes or time period for that matter. But, specifically, as someone who knows a lot about corsets, every time, I read about a character absolutely hating their corset and thinking its so uncomfortable, I loose ten years of my life. It’s become such a trope in fantasy that all the girlies hate their little corsets, and I’m like...please just research it, friends.

Homegirl, where are your guards???

There is nothing that annoys me more than when a royal character is like in the middle of a war or their people are rebelling against them and they’re like, “ugh, I hate having all these guards around me. I just want to be free!!!!!” Which, okay fine, having a bunch of people follow you around and stand outside while you pee, and generally watching your every move does not sound fun at all, but getting offed doesn’t sound fun either. If your character’s country is in the middle of a war, and even if they aren’t depending on the country, they are going to have guards around them all the time. In Tudor England, guards would sleep in the King’s room even if he had company because people were always trying to assassinate each other. Even if your royal character has magic or powers or something, they still probably need guards. If your characters have been royal all their lives, they probably will know their guards very well and know how to sneak away from them for that oh so coveted night in the town as a commoner. But, even though royalty probably did feel claustrophobic with all those guards surrounding them, especially in the Victorian era right up until the end of World War 1, everyone’s biggest fear was being assassinated. People were getting offed and assassinated left and right, so take that into account when your character oh so desperately wants to leave the palace.

Better Give Me That Title

Gosh, I love Meghan Trainor. Her career was too short, tbh. Anyways, titles are probably one of the biggest components of royalty. Who gets a title and who doesn’t get a title causes lot of friction in royal families. The siblings of the monarch, may want their children to be titled, but the monarch might be unwilling to title potential claimants to the throne. Are titles exclusive with only a certain number of titled individuals allowed at each time, or does the monarch freely hand out titles to all of their favorites? Both options have happened historically, but you just need to find out which option works best for your story. In my story, there are only a certain number of duchies and counties per territory, meaning there are only certain number of Dukes/Duchesses and Counts/Countesses per territory. That makes the nobility an even more exclusive group because there’s always a set number of peers and the titles pass down between families.

Above the Law, Cause You Are the Law

I’m pretty sure that has been the motto of like almost every medieval to late Renaissance European monarch. Don’t get me wrong, there have definitely been good, benevolent monarchs who actually care about the needs and requests of their people, but then you get to Henry the 8th, and you’re like....., but that’s how it was back then, and even to an extent now. Royalty and nobility get away with so much stuff that would send a normal person to prison, just look at Prince Andrew. Having all of that power and prestige, combined with being in charge of a country and being pretty much exempt from a lot of things can lead your royal or noble characters to have an inaccurate sense of right and wrong. Using Henry the 8th as an example, pretty much half of the things he decided in his life can be summed up with, “it’s okay when Henry does it, but if anyone else does it, then I’m offing them” That can create really good conflict if your royal character is forced to finally face the consequences of some of their actions, despite having gotten away with everything since they were a kid.

They Are Still People

This is true with any character you write, but especially with royal characters, a lot of authors have a tendency to write them as people whose only personality trait is being royal which having meet no royal people in my life could be completely true, but I don’t think it is. I think because of the way they were raised, being royal is a large part of their lives and maybe the most important part but they still should have a personality and other interests outside of being royal. There are countless stories of royals in history being forced to give up their true passions, hobbies, and interests because they had a duty to rule their country. That doesn’t mean those passions just magically went away though. Your character will still have them, and some nice internal conflict could be showing them and their desire to idk knit come into conflict with their duty as the Leader of their country.

#writing royalty #writing #writers #writers on tumblr #write #writers of instagram #writers of ig #writing reference #writing references #worldbuilding #worldbuilding help #writing tip #writing tips #writing advice #writersofig

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musubiki · 2 years

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Okay so I saw the word "Royal" in your last post and so like do you have an idea about the Royal Family or anything like who is in charge can we get the deets on that or is that spoilers? 👀

oooo YES I HAVENT TALKED ABOUT THEM YET.,..

the .,..country? region?? mochi and lime live in is ruled by the central kingdom. m&l dont live in the capital, instead living in a city actually pretty close to the borderlands between the central kingdom and the mountain region

as you can probably guess the capital is where the palace is and indeed the central kingdom is ruled by a monarch (not a figurehead, he actually does have quite a bit of power, but not all-powerful)

the royal family passes down from generation to generation, and for a LOOONG time the royal agenda has been very anti-magic. not publicly and outright because theyve actually been doing a pretty good campaign of convincing the public slowly that magic isnt really a thing.

but under the hood theyve established anti-magic things like the m34th, they have barriers in place to bar magic from entering the palace, etc

they central kingdom hates magic because theyre afraid of what it can do and what it has done. they dont believe when witches say they are bound by blood oath to never harm humans, so they do whatever they can to destroy witches/mages/magic creatures

similar story to the m34th, they started as a strong fight against magic but over time realized killing the witches wasnt really doing anything so they settled for "allowing" them to live among humans while keeping a close eye on them

currently, there is the king and queen and their two sons. as of whats going on in my head right now, the story surrounding that is that the first son is,....somewhere. gone?? i dont know. hes not at the palace and not in line for the throne. i dont know what he did.

the second son was mentioned a long time ago but his story runs into the frog witch!!

while the father is very anti-witch, the prince (second son) is secretly a bit of a witch sympathizer. the stories his mother told him have him curious and hes the big hearted type, so when his father goes on and on about witch extermination etc the prince....does not agree

im not sure what the in-between is, whether they have some falling out or something but one way or another, the prince ends up running away (eventually after getting himself in a lot of shit finds himself in the swamp region and in the hands of a witch - literally begs her to let him stay and learn from her because he wants to k n o w)

and this subplot actually ends up involving mochi and is her little episode for when she meets the frog witch!!

what happens is the m34th shows up on mochis door one day, not to threaten her, but to bring her in to see the king because he demands her help

supposedly though he doesnt like magic, hes been trying to find his son and hasnt been able to, so he turns to the strongest witch in the lands to help find him. in exchange he promises appropriate compensation and to leave her and her guild in peace.

(i dont think the king is an evil man, just conditioned to think a certain way after being raised and immersed in generations of a certain way of thinking. but he really does love his son and wants him safe and home, and is willing to work with magic things if need be to make that happen)

and mochi DOES NOT LIKE THE CENTRAL KINGDOM. AT ALL. but, after much deliberation, comes to the conclusion that the king is coming to her for help as a father and not as a monarch, so eventually takes the commission and goes on her frog witch meeting adventure

and at the end we find out that one of the women close to the king, either the queen or one of the royal advisers, is actually secretly a witch (or former witch) herself (perhaps the dog witch or something with a cute lil black Pomeranian familiar or something), and mochi earns several friends in VERY high places which will probably come in handy later on (madam royal witch as well as the prince)

#i rest easy knowing the future ruler of the central kingdom is not only a witch sympathizer but will most likely also marry the frog witch #and shell be a witch queen and cool as hell #and thats gonna be a better atmosphere for mochi #bpp #THANK YOU FOR ASKING I FORGET TO TALK ABT THESE THINGS

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fandompeepsgoburrrr · 2 years

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The Holy Kingdom of Faerghus - Headcannons

(I did these late at night. Sorry for spelling or grammar mistakes)

-Celtic/Irish influences.

-Favor calvery becuase of the weather as they have to arrive at destinations quickly.

-Accents sound like heavy scottish to the other nations of Fodlan.

-Called Faergen or Kingdom native depending on context.

-SLAV SQUATS

-Lances and axes are most popular weapons.

-Generally open about gender identies and sexualities

-Lots of traditional dances and songs passed down through holodays and family traditions

-Magic is considered an 'Art' and is the only Art really favored

-Multi parterned relation ships are silently encouraged

-Lots of dark colors and architectures to try and pull in sunlight

-Most often hit with plauges rather than other tragedies

-Sucsession is allowed through adoption, but its looked down upon

-Big families are expected

-Xenophobic to those outside of fodlan the most, but most accepting of non kingdom natives inside of fodlan

-Have the most belief in mystical or supernatural occurances and creatures.

-Traditions were meant to be broken, just not of your families

-Mostly self governing small communities but for big issues they go to the leading family then the leading family if need be goes to the nobles then royals

-They dont discourage or disbelieve in woman ruling, but they prefer if it was behind close doors as men went to lead battles and be the figurehead

-House Fraldarious is famous for leading women

-House Gautier is the only territory to never have one

-Many stories of ancesters, the elities, loog & kyophon, are only passed down through word of mouth and traditions

-Pan accidently made having fair fetures a desirable trait. Its why so many families now have paler skin and lighter hair.

-House Fraldarious said fuck that dark ftw

-Its a well know joke of 'noble clonning' with how alike the children normally look to thier parents

-Glenn was a wyvern knight

-Glenn got knighted at 15 due to being able to use wyverns efficently and having a major crest

-Glenn was only 5 years older than Felix

-Miklan was 8 years older than Sylvain

-Sylvain had 2 other siblings, one being a twin, but miklan ended up killing one and disabling the other

-Miklan only got disowned becuase he killed his crested infant sister

-When sylvain got pushed into the well, his twin did too, but they fell head first

-The injury disabled them for life so terribly that the margave ended up quietly disowning them and made them into a servent instead. They werent crested, which is why

-Dimitri never had siblings due to his birth mother dying, but has a multitude of cousins

-Rufus was lamberts only ligitiment sibling, but they had around 6 others

-The village Hapi came from isnt on any Faerghus map

-The 4 apostles are acknowledged by faerghus customs and religion but are generally not talked about

-Some families dont believe the apostles actually existed

-The crest of blaiddyd gives superior strength, but it also seems to have sever physchological effects if used too often

-Crest of Gautier represents death and is runored to be cursed becuase everyone who has weilded it either dies a gruesome death, or dies before they are 30

-Crest of Fraldarius also has side effects which influence emotions. It either increases the bearers emotions to unhealthy levels or it seems to sap them of emotions completely

-The crest of dominic doesnt have any confirmed side effects, but bearers always seems to have troubled family lives

-The crest of Charon is rumored to cause unhealthy amounts of loyalty in people

-The crests of Blaiddyd, Fraldarius, Gautier, Dominic, and Charon are the only crests that are truely considered 'Faerghan'

-The school of sorcery was created in hopes of expanding fearghus expertise, but it hosts more students from other nations/countries more often

#fe16 #fe3h #fire emblem three houses #blue lions #holy kingdom of faerghus #headcannons

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karlnapity · 3 years

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it’s not worth it, achilles.

(tws: manipulation, emotional & slight physical abuse, panic attacks, one very vague reference to suicidal ideation, agoraphobia)

eret is a watcher.

they’ve never wanted to be at the center of the conflict. content with being off to the side, content with taking what’s given to them.

(but are they?)

they care for wilbur, for tommy, for tubbo, for fundy, for all of them. that isn’t a question. wilbur had welcomed them into his nation with open, welcoming arms, and they accepted graciously and without hesitation.

they can see the gears turning in dream’s head, and they can only see those gears growing sharp with time. it’s not much of a question.

and maybe that has something to do with it, but at the end of the day they can’t quite say what made them accept dream’s invitation to chat.

(it was greed, it was the promise of power, it was cowardice and ambition and desperation all wrapped in a disgusting little bundle that rested in their chest, and maybe still does.)

in any case, they find themselves face to face with the man who should be their worst enemy right now.

they hold themselves poised as they can, and for some reason it makes dream huff what must be a laugh. he settles on a block, gesturing for eret to do the same. they refuse.

“so i have a proposition,” dream starts, adjusting his mask to more thoroughly cover his face. he pauses, and eret raises an eyebrow, waves for him to continue.

“we’re looking for a king to rule the smp,” he says, leaning forward.

“i thought you had george for that,” they say. what is this?

“not for now. later, sure, but i’m not sure he’s ready.” that makes eret frown. it’s an odd way to refer to one’s right-hand man, but at the end of the day it’s not their business.

“you’re asking me to be king?” they ask, hesitant.

“i’m not asking,” dream responds, and something in his tone makes them freeze. they take a step back, almost unwittingly.

“i want you to be king, eret. i think you’d do a banger job,” dream says, standing. as he stalks closer, they clench their fists, silently beg themselves not to show their discomfort.

he stops only a few inches away, crosses his arms far too casually for the situation.

“this is how it’s going to go,” he commands, and suddenly eret is far, far too aware of how this man has commanded men, won wars.

whatever he says… they can’t refuse.

> contrary to what everyone says, they don’t want to be a traitor, but if everyone’s going to think they’re the villain they might as well make it sound good.

the final control room goes perfectly. as they find themselves next to dream on the battlefield, dream’s cold, commanding hand leaving a bruise on their shoulder where he holds it proudly, they don’t feel like much a king, and they feel an awful lot like a slimy traitor.

> it’s not a coronation as much as a condemnation. dream places the crown on their head, and they can’t help but flinch away.

they think they hear sapnap stifle a chuckle, and every nerve in their body constricts in barely contained rage.

dream uses his hand to force eret’s chin up, and they refuse to meet his eyes until he squeezes enough to hurt. he nods, patronizingly, lets go and brushes invisible dust off their shoulders.

they pray for it to be over. > being a king has always been a figurehead. they hold no power.

dream doesn’t accept anything less than perfect. not in their posture, not in their robes, not in their voice and actions. they do what he says, and they don’t what he doesn’t.

the others hate them, still, and they can’t blame them in the slightest. they’ve barely seen them, not since the final control room, and they can only hope they’ve pulled themselves together, since.

they’re so proud of tommy. but they can’t say that, not hardly, not when dream’s pacing back and forth in the meeting room.

they stand at the door like a guard, only really there as a pretty decoration, and they’re only forced to listen while dream and the others concoct plan after plan to kill the others.

they’re so tired. > they’re more of a target than anything. dream promised them immunity, and they knew it was a lie then; it’s only brought the opposite.

they’re a figure for everyone’s hatred. dream is still acting reasonable in the public eye, for now, and eret is the crazy one. the one who traded their country for kingship, for power that doesn’t exist.

dream doesn’t let them cry, not when he can see it. they’re more thankful for their glasses than ever.

they’ve gotten real good at hiding flinching, too. > dream doesn’t starten to loosen his hold at all until the election. they don’t think he means to, but with other playthings in the form of a president and an exiled man, he doesn’t have as much time to fuck with them.

but he makes one thing very clear:

“don’t leave the castle without my permission, got it?”

they’ve got it. > fundy is the first to visit, and when the first signs of orange appear at the end of the throne room, they almost weep in relief, almost trip on the edge of their cloak before dream’s words snap them back to their senses, telling them not to act undignified. they still can’t help the giddy smile on their face, and fundy looks them hard in the eye before an awkward “hi.”

they return it quietly. > it’s a hard thing, walking the line between trying to apologize and trying not to reveal anything.

(because they can’t tell the others. they can’t.)

they’re pretty sure fundy suspects something, but they can’t say anything.

not even when they flinch whenever someone raises their voice or moves too fast, or how they’re so much quieter than before, or how they staunchly, staunchly refuse to leave the castle unless it’s an event they’ve been invited to.

dream is playing them like a fucking fiddle, and they can’t do anything about it. > niki is the first person they say anything to.

they’re on a parapet, looking out at the stars, and niki rests her head on their shoulder. they smile down at her. they’ve removed their glasses, and the light from their eyes bathes her in gentle light.

“i’m worried for you,” she says, hooking her arm in theirs. they start back a bit.

“what do you mean?” they ask, trying and failing to reclaim the royal disposition they fall back to in situations like this.

“you’re not happy as king,” she says, moving to fully look them in the face.

(they’re uncomfortable. what do they say? what would dream want them to say? what’s safe?)

“i’m fine,” they say. “it’s just stressful, is all.”

she scoffs. “with what work? eret, it’s obvious you’re not in charge. just please, tell me what’s going on. is it dream?”

they feel the urge to lower their voice like he’s listening in, as silly as it is.

(is he?)

their hands are shaking, and they clasp them to hide it. “i can't tell you anything."

and they don’t say anything more, because dream is there, guiding niki out of the castle, and they don’t say anything to stop it. > they hate him. they hate him, they hate him, they hate him, they hate him, and they don’t say anything about it.

they let dream toy with the idea of replacing them with george, they let him threaten their life, they let him say everything he wants to him, and they take it with grace like they know he wants them to do.

they stand in the center of the room as he paces, feeling so utterly exposed. their crown feels heavy, their robes feel like they’re pulling them to the floor, but they stand composed even as they feel like they might lose a life any moment.

they clench their fists to hide how they’re shaking like a leaf, and it does nothing.

he lunges forward, grasps their chin, and they know now to make eye contact immediately. their eyes reflect off his mask.

he tilts their head, inspecting something, and they don’t flinch even as they know he’ll leave bruises on their cheekbones. he pushes them back, and they try not to stumble.

“you’re an embarrassment,” is all he says. “and if you speak to any of them tomorrow, if you even think of leaving the throne room, i’ll kill you right then and there.”

and they don’t doubt it for a second. > fundy tries to get their attention, and as his ears droop and he spits retorts as he leaves and they pretend to continue reading the book and shift uncomfortably on the throne, they feel like crying. dream is just taunting them. > the next day, it’s niki. she stares them down, tells them not to bend this low, and she leaves. they do cry, then, and dream tells them to stop. and they do. > then it’s sapnap, and they don’t know whether they can talk to him as he tells them about his day. their hands curl on their book, and they don’t know where dream is, and they don’t know if sapnap is safe, and everything feels like too much and sapnap is asking them if they’re paying attention, and then they’re ripping the book with their grip and they’re crying and sapnap is asking them if they’re ok and they still don’t know whether he’s safe and they can’t breathe, and they’re on the floor and sapnap is still asking them if they’re ok and they don’t know.

and dream is there, and for once his hold is soft and he strokes their hair and tells them it’s ok, and of course of sapnap is safe, you’re being silly, and how about we call it a day, and they can’t even help but nod in agreement. > dream tells them to take the day off, and they know it’s not kindness, because as they give up on the latch of the door and wonder whether they can make it out of the window, they see a few people congregating near the castle. they can’t quite make out their names, their faces, or even their voices, but they can tell anger when they hear it. something is happening. > and in front of everyone, the next day, as dream stares her down, niki asks them to join her. they lower their head, stare at their lap as dream chuckles. > but they do. dream tells them he’ll kill them. he tells them he’ll kill niki, kill fundy, kill tommy, kill everyone, but it doesn’t matter. he won’t hurt anyone but them, at least not for now, and they don’t fucking care.

let him do as he pleases, they won’t go down easy. anything is better than this.

they rip the crown off their head, throw it down at dream’s feet, and they leave the castle for the first time in months. > niki cheers when she sees them, and they grin, hug her, grab her and swing her around. it doesn’t matter that they’re both in armor, it doesn’t matter that they’re about to go to war against him, they’re there and they’re out and they’re with the people they love.

even if they don’t love them back. they don’t miss tommy’s glare.

(they deserve it.) > they pity george.

they offer their comfort. they don’t get a response.

(not for months, anyways.) > they retake their mantle, and it’s only a bit easier than before. dream’s control has loosened, but it’s still there, still a looming sense of fear that makes it hard for them to take a full breath.

their friends aren’t there much anymore. fundy is lost in grief, and niki’s doing… whatever she’s doing.

but a new member approaches them oohs and aahs at their castle but approaches them like a person in a way that makes them want to weep.

her name is puffy, and they love her already. > it’s so hard to leave the castle. they still imagine dream popping out from somewhere, telling them to get back inside, and more often than not they don’t make it out of the door. they're loitering in the doorway, fidgeting with their hands when they see puffy. she waves at them, grinning, and they give her a shaky smile back.

“what’s up?” she asks. their chest tightens.

“um. not sure yet,” is all they can muster, and god, dream wouldn’t like that, but it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t fucking matter anymore.

she nods. “cool.”

they stand in silence for a few seconds, and then she extends a hand and says, “i’m on a walk. wanna join me?”

it’s clear what she’s doing, and they grin at her kindness. the looming feeling in their chest dissipates, just a little. they take her hand, and soon enough they’re out from under the shadow of the castle, and they’re in the sunlight.

and it's hard, their hands still shake and they get the urge to run back where it's safe even when it's not, but she distracts them every time their eyes stray and when they sit down in the middle of the prime path and hide their face in their hands and scrub tears a voice tells them they shouldn't be shedding in the first place she sits with them and makes them laugh. > “maybe being king can be something good,” puffy tells them one night.

“you think?” they ask, huffing a laugh. “i’m not sure.”

“yeah,” she says, elbowing them playfully. “you’re in a special position. maybe you can use your influence to help everyone.”

“i don’t have influence,” they start, but she interrupts.

“i know, maybe politically, you don’t. but people respect you. you can use that.”

it’s hard to imagine anyone respecting them, after their cowardice. but as they lean against puffy and stare at the crater, they suppose someone needs to try around here. and they will.

(they push down the voice that says it’s retribution.)

#personal #dsmp #dream smp #dreamwastaken #eret #lmanburg #lmanberg #l'manberg #l'manburg #l'manhole #captain puffy #fundy #niki nihachu #nihachu #manburg #manberg #mcyt

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swamp-world · 2 years

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Anyways I think I would like to draw a hard line between celebrating the queen being dead and celebrating the queen actively dying. I'll pop a bottle of champagne when she dies because she is the figurehead and active proponent of a monarchic, colonial institution and church. She has spent years using the power of royal assent to block any acts to tax her more. She has actively spent incredible amounts of money defending Andrew from Epstein-related scandal and criminal charges. Whether or not it'll work is a separate thing. Royal weddings cost plentiful money for no good reason, actively displace unhoused people, etc etc etc. Royal media coverage is a fucking clown show commercializing their lives. She is the head of the Anglican church. It was under her government and Crown that a democratically elected prime minister in Australia was removed. She is also the most popular royal, and many people in both Canada and England and other colonial countries have expressed support for separating completely from the Crown once she dies, because there simply isn't the public support for any of the other royals in line. When she dies, the monarchy will absolutely lose (soft) power.

For all of these reasons, I will celebrate once she's dead.

At the same time, I will not celebrate her dying: in this, she is just another old woman. An old woman with exceptional healthcare, no doubt, provided for by her status, class, etc., but money does not stop aging, and growing old, dying of old age, is a painful process for many. Making fun of the queen for dying of old age, for having symptoms of aging—reduced mobility, poor circulation, possibly at some point organ failure, memory issues, struggling with speech—is making fun of the thing she is dealing with, not of her as a person. Those are things that other elderly people deal with. Those are things that other non-elderly people deal with. "Haha the Queen's hands are turning purple they'll do anything to pretend she's still alive" My friend's hands have been turning purple since she was 14 because of Raynods "she can barely walk" Why are we laughing at her for age-related disability?

I know I've partaken in the jokes sometimes but I can't get behind "haha they're just keeping the queen on ice she's already dead" when I imagine that the reason the royals aren't travelling for Christmas, the reason Charles is giving the speech this year, is specifically because of what they said: "she's entering a new phase" just means that she's dying, and when you're dying of age, you don't really have the energy to travel, to make speeches, to be in the public eye. If you're dying of old age, you probably want a bit of peace and quiet and relaxation. You're probably medically advised to. "Haha the Queen's not travelling for Christmas" is a lot less funny when you spend ages seeing seniors in homes who want nothing more than to travel, who lose limbs because of circulation issues, who attempt to reject mobility aids because of the social stigma around them, who have speech aphasia, sutters, who are perpetually exhausted and asleep because of the simple fact of living.

Laugh and celebrate when the queen dies. Sure, anticipate it even. But laughing at "haha woman old", at her condition rather than her actions, is a bad look when we're re-entering pandemic rhetoric of "just let the old people die"

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ashafox · 4 years

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In general, how do you view the power balance in your Cardverse AU between the King, Queen, Jack (and Ace?) ? Also, any HCs at what age they get to take their position, etc? (For an example Alfred looks really young in the pics. Does he get the title of King at once, or does he only get officially crowned King at a later date like his 18-20th birthday?)

Thank you for being so interested in my au, first of all 😭😭😭 it means so much!!!

And I like to think that the roles are very rooted in the magic system of the nations! Each kingdom has their own magic core that essentially powers the kingdom with energy, and it determines factors like overall population health, crop quality and so on

The king is not just a ruler, they're the main outlet of their kingdom's power. Like a beacon almost, they channel this magic and give the country power to function. It's something that's almost biological to them, they have no say in it. They don't usually have powers, although most kings are generally stronger and healthier because of it. When a kingdom has no king, the energy has no means of getting out to the population. This can be chaotic.

Queens are very important figureheads. These are usually the member of the royal court that the population looks to for guidance. They give speeches, meet with other royals and just keep face in general. It's very important to have a strong queen, because if a kingdom doesn't then it's bound to fall into unrest. We're talking full scale riots. The queen and the Jack are usually a tag team duo. The king is good for magic, sure, but they're usually heavily influenced by their queen.

The Jack is the head of the army in my au! They oversee not just military aspects of the kingdom, but also trade and treasury. They're the pillars of the countries, almost like.... important secretaries

And finally, the ace! While the king is the beacon that magic energy is made physical, the ace is the one who can warp and control it. They're the strongest mages in the kingdom, and they work with the king to balance out how energy is distributed amongst the population!! They also tend to have some kind of power that relates to their kingdom itself.

Sorry for the long post!!! I really appreciate the interest though ;w; Alfred in this au is super young, so he has a lot to learn before he can take his place as the spades king! Arthur plans on teaching him all he can- even if his coronation has to be pushed back a few years.

#myshit #hetalia #aph #cardverse

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fleetingfigures · 3 years

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GIVE ME A CHARACTER; Hien Rijin

Little disclaimer, I'm an opinionated individual, so if any of my words about the character are rather harsh, try not to take it personally. Media exists to be criticized, and I'm definitely a critic!

How I feel about this character

I'm gonna be honest with you chief, but in finally starting to play FFXIV seriously at about the end of Stormblood, much of its story was rushed through by yours truly, so some of these opinions might be completely wrong to someone who knows STB's lore much better than I. Beyond that, a good chunk of the expansion's NPCs are some of my least enjoyed throughout the entire game, especially on the Garlean side of things. However, the lore and worldbuilding this expansion gave is still some of my favorite, and opened up a lot of doors for speculation, especially for characters on my end (note: see Luo Qiang lol). Though with that out of the way... My first impression of Hien was not a good one. I thought he was pretty stereotypical and one-note, and supposed he was fine to fit the narrative role he was created for. But if there's anything to know about me, I'm not the kindest critic to things that simply exist in their bubble. I think I spent most of the expansion waiting for some sort of character reveal or twist on Hien's part, something to spice him up a bit, but sadly it never really came. That's why among my friends, I refer to Hien as 'White Bread' as he's okay, but he's very bland.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

I don't ship NPCs in this game romantically much at all tbh, outside of maybe a stray WoLx(insert name here) relationship here and there. As such, I never even gave this any thought. Though, I think for story purposes, Hien would be better off not being shipped with anyone at all, so that story potential is instead shifted inwards and fleshes out the personal struggles of rebuilding Doma in the wake of their second fight for independence.

My non-romantic OTP for this character

OTP is a strong phrase, so here's some pairings I enjoy thinking about for him: - I think Hien and Thancred would make wonderful drinking buddies. - Hien and his retainers is obviously a good dynamic, especially imagining Yugiri having to play Mom as Gosetsu and Hien get a bit too merry while drinking. - Hien and Lyse having to rely and learn from the other as they're both young royals thrust into the duties of rebuilding their war-torn countries.

My unpopular opinion about this character

I believe my above criticism of Hien being bland is an unpopular opinion? But like... That's another thing I find annoying about Hien - it's that I'm almost incapable of forming any opinions at all about him. All I can say is that he's a bit boring and did his role fine, but I can't even go beyond that, and it pisses me off to no end! Maybe I just didn't read his lore enough or something, but sometimes I find it easy to forget he exists. And that's unfortunate, seeing as he's quite literally the figurehead of Doma. If it weren't for my own fascination with Yanxia and the crumbs of Chinese inspiration within it, I would pay no mind to Doma at all, especially with Hien as its leader.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

Something at all? Maybe a moment of weakness in the face of dire straits, something that makes him recall the struggles his father suffered under around 25 years ago. A moment of personal weakness like that, one connected to not only his country's struggles, but ones he's struggled with for most of his life, the same ones that lead him to flee towards the Steppe.

With that my criticism is finished. Overally, I'd give Hien a 5/10 grade as a character. He exists, I guess.

Anyways, thanks for the ask! @placesyoucallhome And I hope this didn't read as too negative lol

#ffxiv #asks #answers #Hien #Im sorry to any Hien fans #I just don't find him appealing #maybe you all could educate me on some hidden lore?

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thecrownnet · 4 years

Link

Peter Morgan And Cast On The Multi-Generational Appeal Of ‘The Crown’: “The Queen Is Part Of Our Lives”

By Joe Utichi Editor, AwardsLine June 30, 2020

When it first premiered in 2016, Peter Morgan’s Netflix series The Crown was an instant smash. Aiming to tell the epic story of Queen Elizabeth II’s record-breaking spell as Britain’s longest-serving monarch, starting with her marriage in 1947 and seeing her reign through to the earliest 20th Century, it caught the attention of royalists and republicans alike. Some were hooked by the history and the pageantry, painstakingly researched from detailed court records, and others by the unprecedented psychological detail that showrunner Peter Morgan brought to the saga of the famously tight-knit Windsor family, whose gilded lives have been rocked by scandal and tragedy.

Speaking to Deadline’s Joe Utichi as part of Netflix’s FYSEE TV In Conversation series, Morgan said he was delighted that, after the three successful outings, The Crown was still a ratings draw and en route to a fourth and fifth season. Asked to explain the show’s appeal, he said, “I suppose it’s really her, isn’t it? It’s our fascination with her—the Queen—and the fact that she’s been in everybody’s lives; our lives, our parent’s lives and our grandparents’ lives. She’s been on every stamp in this country [the U.K.], on every bank note, for as long as any of us can remember. So it’s something that doesn’t have a narrow constituency—it speaks to multiple generations and it brings multiple generations together in the process of uncovering it, discovering it and enjoying it. I mean, anecdotally, that’s how I gather people are watching it—they’re often not watching it in the way they would traditionally [watch it], they’re often watching it with other members of their families, or with people of different generations, and that’s lovely.”

One of the original show’s many fans was Olivia Colman, who, for Season Three, took over the role of Queen Elizabeth from Claire Foy. Despite having recently won an Oscar for portraying 18th Century Queen Anne in 2018’s The Favourite, Colman admitted to having reservations about her ability to portray one of the most famous women in the world today. “It’s definitely more daunting to play someone that everyone knows,” she said. “The beauty of Queen Anne is that no one can tell me she didn’t sound like that, but everyone can tell me what the Queen sounds like, and that’s slightly annoying… It’s much harder to play people that everyone has a vision of, a picture of, and has ideas about. I’ve never joined a show that’s already been up and running and successful. But I was such an enormous fan of the show that I didn’t really think about it.”

Joining Colman, and the cast, was Tobias Menzies, who took over from Matt Smith as Queen Elizabeth’s husband, Prince Philip. Like Colman, Menzies had been a fan of the show and knew that, with Morgan at the helm, the standards would remain high. “I wasn’t surprised about the quality of the scripts,” he said, “because I had really admired what Peter had done with the previous cast for the first two seasons, and the scripts we were being sent seemed really of a piece with all of that. That’s Peter’s genius: weaving together the very public and the very private, and that’s sort of the magic of the show, really. I have to admit, I didn’t really know a great deal about the Royal Family going in to this show—they’re not a family that I particularly had paid a lot of interest to. [But] I think what the show does really well, even for people who maybe aren’t necessarily that interested in the Royal Family, is that it takes you into the decisions and the challenges of trying to live as a family in this institution. The continual frustrations, the challenges, and sometimes a privileges and joys of this very peculiar—and acutely British—institution.”

Season Three also saw the introduction of Helena Bonham Carter as Princess Margaret, Queen Elizabeth’s older, and only, sibling. Long before the tabloid stories that defined Queen’s “annus horribilis” of 1992, Princess Margaret had been a one-woman scandal sheet of her own back in the day, culminating in a much-publicized marriage breakdown in 1976. Bonham Carter praises the show for portraying Princess Margaret as a woman first rather than a figurehead.

“I think the reason this show has been so successful is because we’ve all taken [the Royal Family] for granted,” Bonham Carter said. “We’ve all thought that they were just [cardboard] cut-outs, and the surprise is, ‘Oh my God—of course [they aren’t].’ What must they have felt? They had a human experience through all these different events. Princess Margaret did get divorced, but [people] didn’t really think about [her feelings]. And when you’re playing somebody from the inside, from that perspective, you realize how hard it is to go through a divorce in public, to be that vulnerable and experience all sorts of things that come with divorce when you are you are in full view of the entire world.”

The Crown, she decided, was “the story of an ordinary family in extraordinary circumstances”. “And, ultimately,” she continued, “it’s not a place to be if you are suffering, it’s not a place for any individuality. Duty and responsibility come first, and it doesn’t allow for much fallibility or humanity, or human foible.”

By Season Three, two of Queen Elizabeth’s children had become young adults, which saw the arrival of Josh O’Connor as Prince Charles and Erin Doherty as Princess Anne. O’Connor praised the show for its unpredictability, even when dealing with well-known historical events. “I didn’t know much about anything [to do with the Royal Family] to be honest,” he joked, “so everything was a surprise! But I think the surprising thing, as always in The Crown, is that the unexpected [version of the story] is what’s told. There were certain stories that you look back at and you go, ‘Well, you can’t not tell that story—but how can you tell it in a more interesting way, or from an angle that hasn’t been seen before?’”

For Doherty, the chance to play Princess Anne, arguably the saltiest of the Windsor family after her father, was a dream come true. “For me, [Anne] is the furthest person away from my natural personality that I’ve ever been given the opportunity to play,” she said. “What it is with her that I think is fascinating is that she just doesn’t really give a crap about what anyone thinks—she’s just so honest with her emotions. And it’s so rare to be able to play someone who just tells the truth, without faffing about.”

Director Jessica Hobbs, who helmed two of the Season Three’s episodes, paid testament to Donerty’s commitment to the role. “I remember seeing her test audition,” she laughed. “Peter showed it to me. I was doing some work with him and he said, ‘Come and have a look at who we’re looking at for Anne,’ and it was just this raw contemptuous fury. I was, like, ‘God, she’s perfect.’ Absolutely perfect. And Erin never faltered from that. It was pretty joyful to watch.”

To see more from Peter Morgan and The Crown’s creative crew, watch the video.

youtube

#olivia colman #queen elizabeth ii #tobias menzies #helena bonham carter #the crown #josh o'connor #peter morgan #erin doherty #the crown netflix

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acti-veg · 4 years

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you say you’re anti monarchy because of the cost but isn’t it good for tourism?

I’m not anti-monarchy primarily because of cost, though that is a factor. Having a monarchy is anti-democratic- that’s the issue.

Our monarchy is a throwback to an empire which inflicted untold horrors on the world; it has no place in a 21st century democracy. It is fundamentally wrong that we have a group of elites living off public money while millions of our own people live in poverty. We argue incessantly about how we can’t afford proper welfare provision, a well-funded NHS or a reliable transport system, but we never think to ask whether or not we can keep a medieval relic of an aristocracy on the public purse. It’s absurd.

The whole “they bring in more money than they cost” thing has long been a claim of royalists, but it’s just impossible to quantify. A lot of tourists come to see Buckingham Palace for sure, and that brings in money. But that doesn’t mean they wouldn’t still do that if the monarchy didn’t exist.

No one who visits the palace will see a monarch, the Queen is barely even there. Have you ever been to the palace? It’s completely underwhelming. Imagine it was a museum instead, or an art gallery, or a National Trust building you could walk around in. The Louvre and the royal château in Versailles are two of the most popular tourist destinations on earth and the French monarchy hasn’t existed since 1799.

There is really just no good argument in favour of having a monarchy in a democratic country - no unelected public figure should have any power at all. It’s tradition and there is value in that, but that isn’t enough by itself. The House of Lords and the entire peerage system needs to be dismantled as well, while we’re talking about getting rid of redundant and antiquated figureheads. Britain has been invading other counties in the name of “democracy” for a very long time, so it’s about time we actually had a free democratic system ourselves.

#politics #unrelated #royal family #monarchy

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skelebonecentral · 3 years

Text

Hothouse rose chapter 1

a reverse harem with the lust boys

first we gotta meet the basic skeles

words under cut

Frisk was your cousin.

They’d run away, a week after their mom passed away. Your aunt, their other mother, was frantic and your whole family had gone out searching, as well as most of the town. You’re so glad it was your dad’s oldest sister who first caught sight of the monsters and not the sheriff or someone not quite as sensible.

Frisk came back from the mountain that loomed above your town with a whole civilization behind them.

Yeah, they tried to hook their mom up with Toriel, the strong, kind, and welcoming goat woman who was the Queen of the monsters, but Frisk was just a very romantic kid in general. They flirted as a hobby, it was hilarious and you were so glad they were back and safe to continue cracking you up with it.

They hugged everyone and apologized for scaring them, that they figured out that just because they were hurting didn’t mean it was okay to hurt other people, when they finally got the chance to exit the monsters’ camp after the police and government and all kinds of things showed up.

Still, you had to admire them for how much they grew up if that was what they wanted to say right away. Well, sign. Frisk was mute, after all.

Having them home was so nice, and their new friends were awesome.

You met Toriel first, of course, and her ex-husband, Asgore. You felt sorry for the big fluffy guy, he looked so hopeless and sad when Toriel would glare at him. And Frisk called him Dad, that was so cute, cause he just lit up. It was weird, though, feeling so pitying toward a ten foot tall goat man with huge horns and a long golden beard who had been alive for centuries longer than you.

Still, you liked both the goat people, and Monster Kid, Frisk’s new bestie who ran around with them. He was…well, he was a monster kid. Lizardish, with a tail and yellow-orange scales, but no arms to speak of. It made him top heavy, since he was humanoid, so he fell over often. Frisk seemed very fond of him, and you were glad. They hadn’t had a lot of luck making friends with other human kids at school before all of this.

But Frisk, being the eternal matchmaker they were, decided YOU needed to get in on this whole monster friend business.

Of course, you didn’t realize it until Gyftmas. It was a monster holiday from Snowdin, a small town Underground, that centered around gift giving and involved Santa for some reason? Anyway, the monster community was holding a carnival inside the local event center (it was mid-September so there weren’t any OTHER holidays to do) and your little cousin, being the ambassador, was of course invited and they brought you as their plus one.

Did you forget to mention that Frisk was the ambassador for monsters? They are. Well, at least in name. That’s their official title, is Ambassador, but they’re more like a figurehead while Toriel and Asgore handle the actual statecraft. The adults do let them cut ribbons and make speeches, but they’re just not ready for something that complicated. They are only six, after all.

But back to the carnival, Frisk brought you, and took you to a particular booth.

The booth was decorated with several action figures from an old 80’s cartoon that you used to love watching reruns of, and the sign above said, “THE GREAT PAPYRUS’ TRIVIA BOOTH!”

Frisk beamed as they dragged you, and looking in the booth, there was a very tall soldier-looking fellow who seemed to be a skeleton.

“HELLO, DEAR FRISK! I SEE YOU BROUGHT A HUMAN WITH YOU!” he called exuberantly, waving with bright red mittens. He had a black something or other on under the white chest piece of…oh that’s not actually armor. As you got closer, you’re now aware its made of fabric and the lines and emblem on the front are felt pieces sewn to it. The big round shoulder pads are attached, too.

Frisk signs eagerly, “Hi Papyrus! This is my cousin, Y/N! I wanted them to try your trivia!” Their hands are going very fast, and they’re bouncing, so they’re very excited about this.

“OH!” the skeleton stands up, showing his very obvious spine in his black whateverthatis and the odd ultra-short shorts that match his chest piece. “HELLO, HUMAN Y/N! I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS AND IT IS A PLEASURE TO MEET A RELATIVE OF MY DEAR FRIEND, FRISK!”

He holds out his hand, and you shake it, feeling the long fingerbones underneath and finding yourself grinning like an idiot. Holy heck, an actual skeleton was talking to you. Your inner child was screaming with joy in their Jack-skellington slippers. Frisk had to have known…well, how could they not, your room is covered in Halloween and skeleton themed knickknacks.

“H-hey, Papyrus, I’m super glad to meet you, too!” you didn’t mean to stammer but you’re trying not to freak out as your arm is nearly shaken from its socket. He’s so STRONG!

Frisk giggled and signed something too quick for you to parse, and Papyrus let you go, “OH, ALRIGHT! HAVE A GOOD TIME, FRISK! YOUR COUSIN AND I WILL HAVE A BATTLE OF WITS!”

They scampered away and left you with the skeleton, who pulled out a fold out chair, setting it in front of his booth and then sitting in his own behind the counter, “ALRIGHTIE THEN! HUMAN Y/N, YOUR CHALLENGE SHALL BE TO ANSWER TEN QUESTIONS ABOUT MONSTER CULTURE. THE MORE YOU GET CORRECT, THE BETTER YOUR PRIZE! BEING FRISK’S COUSIN, YOU SHOULD DO VERY WELL!”

“Don’t be so sure, Papyrus. I have some wicked test anxiety,” you joke, and he blinks his sockets at you.

“NO NEED TO BE NERVOUS!” His smile seems set in his long jawed skull, but it actually tilts up a bit more, “SOMEONE WHO LOVES OUR FRISK IS BOUND TO BE A GOOD LISTENER AND KIND SOUL, SO I HAVE FAITH IN YOU. FIRST QUESTION!” he whipped out a set of cards, “WHAT IS KING ASGORE’S FAVORITE DRINK?”

You smile, happy it’s one you know, “Golden Flower Tea. He likes tea in general but that’s his favorite.”

“CORRECT! WOWIE, AND SO CONFIDENT!” Papyrus seems just as pleased as you are, “NEXT ONE! WHAT WAS THE FIRST SECTION OF THE UNDERGROUND CALLED?”

“Ah,” you had to think a moment, then said cautiously, “I think it was the Ruins?”

“YOU’RE RIGHT.” Papyrus then set two further action figures from the same set as his decorations, “THESE WILL MARK YOUR SUCCESSES! ALRIGHT, NEXT!” He shifted his sockets in a comical manner that you had to fight your instinct to laugh at, “HOW MANY MOVIES HAS METTATON, OUR BELOVED STAR, PUT OUT AS OF TODAY?”

You blink…and you have to guess because you honestly don’t care for Mettaton’s version of movies, “28?”

Papyrus’ jaw just falls open, and he sets another figure on the counter, “I THOUGHT FOR SURE THAT WOULD STUMP YOU! I’M FLABBERGASTED. YOU MUST BE A VERY DEDICATED FAN OF METTATON, JUST LIKE MYSELF.”

You blush, “N-not really. His music and dancing are great, but the movies go over my head, I guess. I only watched one because Frisk wanted me to…”

He chuckles, “AT LEAST YOU ARE HONEST. I WATCH THEM FOR THE FUN OF SEEING EVERYONE ELSE’S REACTIONS, HONESTLY. AND THE SET DESIGNS! THEY’RE VERY WELL DONE, AFTER ALL.”

“Oh, yeah, I did notice that. I bet a lot of Broadway plays would love to get his input on that front.”

Papyrus perked up, “BROADWAY? I KNOW A STREET BY THAT NAME BUT I GET THE FEELING YOU’RE REFERRING TO A THEATER OR SOMETHING SIMILAR.”

“Kind of?” you quirk your mouth a bit, not really smiling but thinking about it, “It’s a street in New York City with lots of theaters on it that’s famous for having the best in plays and musicals in the country. It’s really a cool place, from what I hear.”

“OOH! I SHOULD LOOK UP MORE ABOUT THAT LATER. ANYWAY!” He gets out a set of note cards, “I WROTE ALL THE QUESTIONS DOWN SO I COULD HAVE LOTS OF CHOICES. YOU’RE DOING A LOT BETTER THAN SOME PEOPLE!”

You were getting excited now, wondering what he could ask.

“OKAY! WHAT WAS THE NAME OF OUR LOST PRINCE?”

You frown. That was a serious question, and you think back to Frisk’s descriptions they would give you now and then of their time under the mountain. “Asriel.” You remembered thinking his name sounded angelic.

“ANOTHER FIGURE FOR YOU!” Papyrus plops the next figure on the desk and…

“Is that the villain? I didn’t know they even made a figure for him.” You can’t help yourself, not when you’d loved his antics as a kid. “Lord Verminator, looking good.”

Papyrus gasped, “YOU LIKE ALIEN WARLORDS OF JUSTICE?! I THOUGHT HUMANITY HAD FORGOTTEN THIS CLASSIC SERIES! I HAVE EVERY FIGURE EVER MADE EXCEPT FOR THREE, AND EVERY EPISODE ON VARIOUS VHS TAPES. I WILL HAVE TO ASK FOR FRISK TO BRING YOU OVER AND HAVE A MARATHON!”

You nod eager, “I know I haven’t been able to see every episode. I only got a few episodes they put on an old cable channel but it was so good. I managed to salvage some merch from antique stores, but it’s never been enough.”

“THERE WAS MORE THAN ACTION FIGURES?!” Papyrus is awestruck, orange sparkles appearing around his skull. “OH THIS HAS TO BE FATE! MY FIRST HUMAN FRIEND HAS A GROWN-UP COUSIN WHO LOVES THE SAME SERIES AS I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS? SERENDIPITOUS!”

You finally laugh and nod, “You’re so peppy! How did Frisk manage to keep you a secret? I wish we’d met sooner now.”

His sparkles increased, and he began pumping his fists up and down eagerly, “DO YOU REALLY MEAN IT? BECAUSE IF SO, I AGREE WHOLEHEARTEDLY! LET’S GET THIS QUIZ OVER WITH SO WE CAN GUSH ABOUT OUR FAVORITE THINGS INSTEAD!”

He takes a notecard and asks, “WHAT IS THE SYMBOL OF OUR KINGDOM CALLED?”

“The one Toriel wears, right? I think…it was the Delta Rune?”

“YES!” the card was set down, a figure was placed, and another card picked up, “WHO IS THE CAPTAIN OF THE ROYAL GUARD?”

“Undyne.” You sigh, “She tried to suplex me the first time I had to go to Toriel’s to pick up Frisk.”

“OH, THAT WAS YOU?” Papyrus tilts his skull, and you notice his sockets are slightly uneven. You also notice you like hearing him talk, even though he’s very loud. “SHE TOLD ME SOME HUMAN CAME AND MANAGED TO DODGE HER GRAB. SHE’S BEEN TRYING TO GET FASTER AFTER THAT.”

You want to comment, but Papyrus gets another card, “WHO CREATED THE CORE?“ he stops, frowns, then tosses the cards behind him, “THAT ONE WAS ACTUALLY A TRICK QUESTION, BECAUSE NOBODY KNOWS WHO DID IT! AND AS MUCH AS I LIKE TRIVIA, I’M MORE EXCITED ABOUT TALKING WITH YOU.”

Smiling, you take his elbow when he offers it, despite him being two feet taller than you, even in his flat bottomed red rain boots, “That’s pretty flattering. What was the prize for the quiz, though? I’m curious.”

“A DATE WITH YOURS TRULY!” Papyrus laughed, “NYEHEHEHE, BUT I HAVE A FEELING HUMANS WOULD BE RATHER INTIMIDATED BY SOMEONE AS HANDSOME AND CAPABLE AS MYSELF, SO GIVING YOU A TOUR SEEMS MUCH NICER.”

Papyrus led you around the event center, pointing at the various booths and explaining them, even sometimes introducing you to the monster manning it. You didn’t see hide nor hair of Frisk for the rest of the evening, but you didn’t really notice. Papyrus’ enthusiastic rambling and genuine glee at showing you around kept you glued to his side gladly.

When the crowds had thinned out considerably, you asked, “Papyrus, this has been the most fun I’ve had at a fair in years. I’d really like to do more cool stuff like this with you, so maybe we could exchange numbers?”

He froze, then turned, big sparkles appearing again, including inside his sockets, “WOWIE, REALLY?! OF COURSE WE CAN! I REALIZE IT IS LATE AND HUMAN BEINGS NEED PLENTY OF SLEEP TO BE HEALTHY, UNLIKE THE GREAT PAPYRUS, SO LET US HURRY!”

He shoved his phone into your hand and you gave him yours, typing in your number and naming yourself with a balloon emoji on the end to remind him of the fun fair you’d shared together. You get your phone back as you hold out his, and it says “THE GREAT PAPYRUS” with a skull emoji and a gold medal one on the end.

“Perfect! Feel free to text me whenever, but I might not answer if I’m busy or sleeping.”

He nodded, “I UNDERSTAND! I WILL PROBABLY BE TEXTING YOU QUITE OFTEN, BUT FEEL FREE TO TAKE YOUR TIME. UNDYNE SAYS I TEND TO RAMBLE WHEN I’M EXCITED. AND I’M ALWAYS EXCITED! ESPECIALLY WHEN I MAKE A NEW FRIEND.”

You nod and bid him goodbye, getting a back-cracking hug, before he rushes off into the fair and you head toward your car. Frisk had texted you earlier to say they were going home with Toriel, so you rode back alone, glad for the break so you could process your night with the personification of optimism that was Papyrus.

You got texts from Papyrus every day. Multiple texts in a row, about ten different times a day, and about just about any subject that was on his mind at the time.

“JUST GOT BACK FROM MY MORNING JOG! I HOPE YOU’VE HAD A GOOD MORNING SO FAR!” at 5:30 am.

“IF YOU NEED ANYTHING AT THE STORE TODAY, I WORK AT SMILE MART! MY SHIFT IS FROM SIX TO TWO, SO FEEL FREE TO SWING BY FOR A VISIT.”

“I LOOKED UP BROADWAY FINALLY! THERE’S SO MUCH TO LEARN! IT’S BEAUTIFUL!”

“UNDYNE IS STILL DOING SPEED TRAINING TO TRY AND OUTMATCH YOU. I CAN’T WAIT FOR YOU TWO TO OFFICIALLY MEET ON BETTER TERMS!”

That was the general gist of his messages, just little windows into his day and topics that related back to earlier conversations.

You would answer him between classes, since you were a freshman in the local college, and once you were off around noon, you’d head to Smile Mart and see Papyrus in action.

The first time you actually were able to see him at work, he was meticulously arranging the dairy section, making every gallon of milk have the handle facing the same direction in his white button up, black pants, and bright pink apron.

Hearing you approach, he snapped upward and his face lit up, “HUMAN Y/N! HELLO!” Standing to hi full height and brushing himself down, he posed like a soldier at parade rest, “HOW DO YOU LIKE MY DAPPER WORK ATTIRE?”

You smirk a bit, just in an effort not to laugh out loud at that pose and speech combined, but answer honestly, “You make it look good.”

“THANK YOU! I’M AWARE!” he grinned, then got back to his task, “THANK YOU FOR COMING IN. WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING FOR TODAY?”

That sounded suspiciously like a work script rather than just Papyrus being himself, but you shrug it off, “I don’t need anything in particular at the dorm, so I’m just gonna grab one of those yogurt and fruit smoothie drinks over there when I head out. best breakfast treat.”

He looks at the items you’re pointing at, then nods in approval, “FRUIT AND YOGURT ARE GOOD CHOICES FOR A MORNING BEVERAGE. AND DORMS? ARE YOU PERHAPS A MEMBER OF THE CLERGY?”

You do laugh at that, “No! No, I’m a first semester freshman at the university. You have to spend your first semester on campus if you live more than a certain distance away and unfortunately, my house isn’t in the right range.”

“OH. THAT’S QUITE INTERESTING!” He rubs his chin, “I WAS ACTUALLY CONSIDERING GOING TO THE COLLEGE MYSELF, BUT SANS ISN’T EXACTLY A FAN OF IT.”

“Is that the brother you told me about at the fair? The one who sleeps?” Papyrus had mentioned he had a brother who was lazy and slept a lot, but not the name.

“YES. HE NAPS ALL NIGHT AND FREQUENTLY DURING THE DAY ALSO!”

You grin as he waggles his brows. He had noticed how you didn’t like his wording when he’d said the same line about “napping all night” at the fair, and now he teases you with it. “Still called sleeping, Pap.”

He chuckles good naturedly and shrugs, “WHATEVER IT’S CALLED, THAT’S WHAT SANS DOES. SLEEP, EAT, AND EMIT SLIME.”

“He emits slime?”

“SOMETIMES. FRISK SAYS THAT IS ACTUALLY CALLED DROOL UP HERE. NOW I’M WONDERING IF MY BROTHER IS RELATED TO DOGS BECAUSE THEY’RE THE ONLY ONES I’VE SEEN WHO DROOL QUITE AS MUCH AS HE DOES WHILE SNORING.”

The visits become routine after that first one. When you get a break during his shift, you just go to the store and buy some kind of single serving drink. Yeah, you wish they were in cardboard cartons or glass instead, but all your bottles do go into your recycling bucket at your dorm. It’s more an excuse to talk to Papyrus, anyway.

He asks more about the university, and when you ask him what he’d major in if he did attend, he has a very good answer already, “SPORTS MEDICINE! I’M A VERY GOOD HEALER NATURALLY, AND I LOVE ATHLETICS OF ALL SORTS, SO WHY NOT COMBINE MY TWO PROCLIVITIES INTO ONE CAREER PATH? UNDYNE DOESN’T NEED ME ANYONE ELSE IN THE GUARD NOW THAT WE’RE UP HERE, AND I WANT TO BE HELPFUL.” He scratched his chin a bit before adding to the end, “WELL, MORE HELPFUL THAN I AM CURRENTLY ANYWAY.”

That’s a great idea, you think, and you encourage him to go for it. After all, he’s got so much energy, you’re sure any course of study will be a breeze.

It’s kind of surprising when, a few weeks later, he texts you excitedly, “I GOT MY ACCEPTANCE LETTER! NEXT SEMESTER WE’RE GOING TO BE CLASSMATES! ONCE IT’S TIME, LET’S CHOOSE OUR SCHEDULES TOGETHER!”

Wow, he really does go for what he wants, doesn’t he?

Great was definitely the least you could say about Papyrus by the time you two were meeting up on the first day of the semester.

He had already invited you over to his house several times, Frisk had dragged you along on lots of outings with the skeleton, and you had braved a meeting with Undyne and her adorable wife, Alphys, as part of a celebration for Papyrus’ acceptance into college.

So when his unique figure came striding up the sidewalks on campus, you immediately ran to meet him and got scooped into a twirling hug with your mutual giggles echoing off the old gothic revival buildings around the ovular clearing.

“Papyrus!”

“Y/N!”

As you were set down, you beamed up at him, “I’m so glad I didn’t start my gen ed until now. We have all semester together.”

“I KNOW! SURE, I HAVE TO TAKE THAT ONE NUTRITION CLASS WHILE YOU’VE GOT CHEMISTRY, BUT OTHER THAN THAT!” He’s bouncing on his heels and utterly pleased, and noticing his bouncing is what draws your eyes to the shorter figure next to him.

Another skeleton, about your height and blinking at you with white lights in his large, round sockets, stood next to Papyrus and waved lazily at you, “heya.”

“Oh my gosh, you must be Sans!” you were excited to finally meet Papy’s brother. “I dunno how it took this long for us to end up in the same place but I’m so glad to meet you!” You offer your hand and it gets taken with a long “pffffffffffffffffft” sound.

“SANS! I TOLD YOU NOT TO BRING THAT TODAY!” Papyrus sounds equal parts furious and embarrassed, as the bright orange glowing on his cheekbones betrays.

“had to, bro. can’t skip the classic gags,” Sans takes his hand back, revealing a small red whoopie cushion in it.

You stare, surprised, “Oh my gosh? I didn’t know anybody even used oldies like that anymore. Or did actual harmless pranks like that. Consider me impressed; you’ve got better taste in humor than most of MeTube.”

That seems to shock the smaller skeleton before you, making him lower his hand slowly. He was wearing a blue hoodie jacket over a white shirt with small stains on the chest, and black basketball shorts with white socks and pink house shoes. “uh. thanks.”

“DON’T ENCOURAGE HIM,” Papyrus huffed, “HE’LL START PUNNING AND THEN WE’LL BE HERE ALL DAY.” He pulled you forward, away from Sans, and waved at his brother, “HAVE A GOOD DAY DOING WHATEVER ODD JOBS YOU HAVE TODAY, BROTHER! I WILL BE ENJOYING MY TIME LEARNING WITH MY BEST FRIEND!”

“I thought Undyne was your best friend?” you say as he speeds away from a perplexed looking Sans, who you wave to with a helpless expression.

“SHE’S MY BEST FRIEND, TOO. YOU CAN HAVE AS MANY BEST FRIENDS AS YOU LIKE!”

Classes go smoothly, but you begin to notice….

Well, you see Sans pretty much everywhere.

Leaving your one class you don’t have with Papyrus, you see him snoozing on a bench outside.

While leaving your part time job sorting all the incoming books for the library on campus, there he is again, at one of the computers looking up jokes.

Even while you’re out getting a haircut, you find him running a little hotdog cart. Finally, you have to ask him what he’s doing.

“Heya, Sans,” you go up to the stand, which is currently empty. “Been seeing you around a lot.”

“why didn’t ya say hi, then, kiddo? my brother sings your praises daily, wouldn’t have minded saying hello.” He’s just got a green apron on over his outfit from before, and you smile.

“I don’t wanna intrude. Just thought I’d ask what was up, y’know? Normally it’s just students at the library. How’d you even get in the computer without a student id?” That had been bothering you for a bit.

“oh, easy. I’m faculty.”

Your brain shorted for a moment, “You…are?”

“yep,” he chuckled, waving you to a seat next to his cart. “turns out a monster phd converts pretty well to a human one. Just consulting with the physics department right now, but once the political climate settles some more, who knows?”

Something bubbles up to the front of your mind, “Oh. Oh! Papyrus said you liked physics once. I guess it’s more of a passion for you than he let on.”

“heh, used to be. might be again. dunno yet.” He looks across the street, away from you. “anyhow, frisk and pap both seem to think you’re the bees’ knees.”

You tilt your head a bit, but then see the little buzzing insects around a flowerbox on the other side of the street. “Oh! hahah, good spot. Yeah, I’m pretty lucky two really cool people decided I’m interesting enough to look after.”

Sans hummed as you both watched the bees, “yeah, they’re both kinda neat folks. My bro’s the coolest though. biased, I know, but it’s true.”

“I can’t argue there,” you feel happy thinking about Papyrus, “He’s taken to school like a fish to water. I really love finally having a friend who’s so positive. Not that my roommate’s not cool, but she’s as tired as I am usually.”

“you got a roomie?” he hums, “then why spend time with my bro? surely you’ve got more in common with her?”

“Hah!” you actually laughed. “I’m a linguistics major, Sans. She’s a botanist. Her side of the room is covered in so many plants I have to take sinus medication 24/7. Nah, she’s a good person but we have nothing in common other than living space and shared love for cheesy family-friendly rom-coms.”

You had gotten so involved with watching a particular bee rolling around a tulip that you didn’t notice when Sans faced you again. “so if she decided to get into a fight, you wouldn’t back her up?”

“Oh, no, I’d pull her out and tell her off for fighting. But she’s always in the greenhouses or labs, so I doubt she’d find anybody to fight with even if she wanted to. More likely to squeak like a dog toy and hide, if we’re being totally honest,” you turn to Sans smiling, but his expression makes you freeze.

His lights were out and the haunting blankness of his huge sockets made you shudder.

“kid, you better be telling the truth. My brother’s the best, but people take advantage of his kindness. If you hurt him, you’re gonna have a bad time.”

Nope, you were not going to stand for that. Getting up, you bolted, and as soon as you made it back to your dorm, you texted Papyrus.

You: Papyrus, we need to talk about your brother.

Papy: WHAT HAS SANS DONE NOW? YOU TWO HAVE BARELY EVEN MET!

You: We talked today and he threatened me.

It takes more than two seconds for an answer. Clearly you’d managed to rattle Papyrus (heh).

Papy: TELL ME EVERYTHING.

You explain yourself, how you kept seeing Sans around when Papyrus wasn’t there, and the incident after your haircut today.

Papyrus doesn’t answer in text, and after a moment or two you get a call from him.

“Papyrus-“

“I AM MORE SORRY THAN WORDS CAN SAY FOR WHAT MY BROTHER DID TODAY.” His voice was hard and serious, something you’d never heard before. “I DON’T BLAME YOU IF YOU’D RATHER NOT TALK ANYMORE AFTER THIS, BUT I ASSURE YOU I WILL HAVE A SERIOUS DISCUSSION WITH HIM ABOUT WHAT HE DID. APPARENTLY, FROM WHAT I GATHER, HE DID THE SAME THING TO FRISK.”

He’d threatened a child?! Not just any child either, your COUSIN! Who saved his people from captivity! You were about to ask about that when Papyrus continued. “FRISK SAYS IT WAS JUSTIFIED, BUT I’M NOT SURE HOW. BUT YOU? YOU HAVE NEVER HARMED ME, NOR ANYONE ELSE, AND HAVE DONE NOTHING TO DESERVE IT. SO, NOW THAT I’VE SAID MY PIECE, WHAT DO YOU THINK?”

You have to turn your brain back on to think for a moment. Papyrus was very dear to you, he was sweet and lifted your spirits no matter what. Still, with a scary protective brother, you weren’t sure if you wanted to be near him anymore.

“Papyrus, I like you. You’re my best friend. But I can’t feel safe around Sans and I’m kind of scared to come to your house ever again. We still have classes together, but I think if we’re going to be friends still, we can only meet out in public or at my place.” Even saying that makes you nervous. Nobody’s ever done this before, threatening you just out of nowhere.

“THAT’S REASONABLE. I CAN HEAR HOW SCARED YOU ARE, Y/N, AND I’M….WELL, INCREDIBLY ASHAMED TO HAVE BEEN PART OF WHY YOU’RE FEELING THAT WAY. THIS WILL NOT GO UNSEEN TO, I SWEAR IT!”

Tears were starting to leak out of your eyes at this point, your adrenaline leaving you tired and scared, but you smile, “I have faith in you, Papyrus. Just…I’m just scared now. I’m gonna try to calm down and I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”

“YES, THAT IS A GOOD PLAN. TRY TO BE KIND TO YOURSELF UNTIL I CAN BE KIND TO YOU INSTEAD…” There was silence, and then a very soft, worried, “I love you.”

That was enough to get you sobbing, “I love you, too. Be safe.” You had to hang up now, and you curled up under your covers to hide from the world.

As soon as he hung up the phone, Papyrus quickly wiped his sockets. He, too, was crying at the thought of his dear friend, who he loved fiercely, being terrified and menaced by HIS BROTHER of all people. But he was going to fix this.

Yes, he’d been far too late to fix what happened with Frisk, and Frisk themselves didn’t seem too upset by it, but YOU certainly were. He could feel it in the way you’d spoken, how very close he’d been to losing his best friend. He still might lose them.

But he’s going to make the effort to try not to.

Taking several deep breaths, Papyrus left his room and went down the stairs. Sans was on the couch as he’d expected, flipping channels on their TV.

“hey bro, what’s up?” Sans had his normal expression, and it made Papyrus furious.

“BROTHER. I KNOW WHAT YOU DID.”

Sitting up, Sans looks confused, “what do you mean?”

Papyrus took another breath, feeling his ribs fill to capacity with the cooling air that helped calm him, “SANS, I JUST GOT SEVERAL VERY FRIGHTENED TEXTS FROM Y/N, AND THEY WERE ABOUT YOU.”

Ah, there, the permanent smile on Sans’ face drooped significantly, “oh.”

“YES, OH.” Rubbing his sockets, as they had started burning like he was going to cry again, Papyrus asked, “DID YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT WHAT THIS WOULD DO TO ME BEFORE YOU THREATENED THEM? DO YOU EVER CONSIDER HOW THIS COULD HAVE MADE THEM SO FRIGHTENED THAT THEY NEVER SPOKE TO ME AGAIN? OR IS THAT WHAT YOU WANTED? DO YOU WANT ME TO BE ALONE FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE, SANS?”

“n-no, no that’s…I don’t want you lonely, paps, I just want you to be safe.” Sans’ voice and eyelights were both small and shaky. Good, he realized how serious this was.

“I KNOW YOU DID THIS TO FRISK, TOO, AND I’M JUST…SANS, YOU CAN’T THREATEN PEOPLE WHO HAVE DONE NOTHING WRONG!” He wanted to move, to do something dramatic, but Papyrus just couldn’t with the weight of his frustration and disappointment. “I LOVE THEM BOTH, AND YOU…YOU DON’T SEEM TO CARE WHAT YOU BREAK ON YOUR WAY TO WHAT YOU CONSIDER MY SAFETY. I’M AN ADULT, SANS, NO STRIPES ANYWHERE, AND I’D LIKE YOU TO TREAT ME LIKE ONE. I KNOW I’M OPTIMISTIC, I KNOW I’M SILLY, BUT THAT’S HOW I LIKE TO BE. I LIKE BEING A GOOD INFLUENCE FOR PEOPLE, AND IF THAT MEANS SOMETIMES I GET MY HEART BROKEN, THEN I LEARN, DON’T I?”

Sans was just staring at him, but he finally found his voice, “but paps, they aren’t like other folks. They’re humans, they have a lot more power and-“

“I KNOW THAT.”

Closing his mouth that had opened to argue, Sans listened. “SANS, DO YOU THINK I WASN’T SCARED WHEN FRISK CAME? I WAS TERRIFIED! I KNEW THEY COULD DUST US BOTH WITH A MOVE, BUT I HAD TO AT LEAST MAKE THE EFFORT TO SHOW THEM THAT WASN’T WHAT HAD TO HAPPEN. I WANTED TO CAPTURE THEM, YES, BECAUSE THAT WOULD HAVE MADE UNDYNE AND EVERYONE ELSE SO PLEASED WITH ME, GIVEN ME MORE OPPORTUNITES TO MAKE THE FRIENDS I WANTED. BUT…THEY LIKED ME.” Papyrus was at a loss. “THEY PLAYED ALONG WITH MY ACT AND SEEMED HAPPY WITH IT. SO I CHANGED MY MIND. I DIDN’T FORGET WHAT THEY COULD DO, WHICH IS WHY I TRIED TO GET UNDYNE TO BE FRIENDS WITH THEM, TOO. I DIDN’T WANT HER TO GET HURT EITHER, OR FOR HER TO HURT FRISK.”

Oh the tears were back and Papyrus scrubbed them away angrily, “BUT NOW I’M WONDERING IF I SUCCEEDED IN SPITE OF YOU! I’M WONDERING IF YOU DIDN’T THREATEN EVERY PERSON I’VE EVER TRIED TO BEFRIEND JUST OUT OF SOME TWISTED SENSE OF PROTECTION!”

Sans just looked at his hands, bones looking ashen as Papyrus tried to hold back his sobs. Had…had he been hurting Papyrus more than helping him all this time? Yeah, Frisk had posed a threat but the kid had made good. Really good, if he had to be honest. And he had seen nothing to really make Y/n any more dangerous than they were. And now Papyrus was crying.

“SANS, I DON’T BLAME YOU FOR BEING AFRAID OF WHAT HUMANS CAN DO TO US, BUT I AM DISAPPOINTED THAT YOU DON’T TRUST ME ENOUGH TO MAKE MY OWN DECISIONS ABOUT FRIENDS. IT HURTS, AND…AND EVEN THOUGH I’M SURE YOU DID IT OUT OF LOVE FOR ME I JUST CAN’T FORGIVE YOU FOR THAT RIGHT NOW,” sniffling a little, Papyrus couldn’t even look at his brother. “I’M GOING TO STAY WITH UNDYNE FOR A FEW DAYS. I HOPE YOU CAN LEARN HOW TO…WELL, NOT DO THIS AGAIN. THINK ABOUT THE CONSEQUENCES MORE. SOMETHING.”

Escaping back up the stairs, Papyrus quickly packed three days’ worth of clothes and essentials, then ran out the door. He just couldn’t believe his older brother had betrayed his trust like this.

It was pretty awkward with you and Papyrus after that.

You tried to talk like normal, but he was sad, and you were scared.

Two months after the incident, you got sick of it. “Papy, let’s go to Bungle Land.”

“OH?” he perked a little, “WE HAVEN’T BEEN FOR A LONG TIME. OKAY.”

Grinning, you took his hand and ran to your car, giving him the option to drive if he wanted. He had his license, but just hadn’t gotten around to buying the perfect car for him. But he refused, wanting to save driving for his own dream car, so you let him move the passenger seat back as far as he liked while you drove to the local theme park.

And you had fun. Papyrus was an adrenaline junkie and took you on every ride, while you were a game shark, trying your hand at the carnival games and loving the useless and low quality plushies you won from them. You both had a lovely collection of little birds, though Papyrus had exchanged five of his for a larger plush of a super hero, more to his tastes, from this trip alone. Thank stars for your yearly pass, and the lovely guest vouchers that came with it.

Finally, as the sun was going down and you were hungry, Papyrus guided you toward one of the stands before a familiar voice made your heart freeze, “hey you two. Pretzels and lemonade?”

Papyrus’ expression soured, “SANS, DO YOU REALLY THINK THIS IS THE TIME FOR ONE OF YOUR ODD JOBS? WE WERE HAVING FUN.” He’d gotten an apology from Sans a while back now, and a Promise not to repeat his blunder, but he still wasn’t sure of Sans’ intentions for Y/n.

“I really didn’t think you’d be here today, pap, swear on my bones,” Sans looked exhausted and held up his hands. “but tell me what you want and I’ll make it while I do something I’ve been meaning to.”

You just say you want a pepperoni pretzel and a cherry lemonade, and Papyrus goes for a normal pretzel with a blue raspberry lemonade, but you’re nervous. The skeleton had threatened you, after all, even if your fear of him had mostly shifted to annoyance at his cheek in doing so.

Getting your food, Sans said softly, “I know I’m nobody’s favorite person right now, so I’ll make it short. I realized I’ve been overbearing, stepped over a lot of lines, and need to work on myself. I’m really sorry, y/n, for acting like you were going to hurt papyrus when I don’t even know you. it was wrong, and I’m going to try and see a therapist to get a hold on my…paranoia.”

That…was honestly one of the best and most sincere apologies you’d ever had. You can’t help smiling, and you can almost feel the pride radiating off Papyrus for his brother. “Okay, Sans. That was a proper apology, and you haven’t done any stalking that I’ve noticed so…apology accepted. I hope your therapy goes well.”

He looks so relieved, shoulders sagging noticeably, but his smile turns more genuine and he nods, “okie dokie. Go have fun, and I’ll see you at home, paps.”

“YES YOU WILL! YOU’RE GETTING THE IMPROVED VERSION OF SPAGHETTI TONIGHT FOR THAT!” It’s heartwarming to hear the excitement in his voice, and the brighter smile on his face, “YOU DID A GOOD THING! BYE, SANS!”

“Bye, Sans,” you add, and he waves you both off. Even if he was the one who finally apologized, you felt a weight off of yourself as well, and his gaze no longer made you feel like demons were on your back.

#fic #reader x papyrus

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voltage-fanfictions · 4 years

Text

One Time Too Many

Anonymous request: Can you do angst with BMP 2 Ivan where MC leaves him for being unaffectionate/insensitive?

“Ivan, it’s late. You should really come and get some sleep.”

“Not now.”

“But Ivan-“

“I said not now.” His voice was sharp, leaving no room for argument. His eyes only leaving the papers in front of him for a second when he didn’t hear the door close. “Go to bed, you have no need to still be awake.”

His harsh stare didn’t leave your form, watching as your face fell, hands clenching into your nightshirt over your chest. For a moment it looked as if you were going to speak again, but your lips fell closed softly, eyes dropping to the floor as a look of defeat came over your face.

“Alright…” Your voice trailed off, hesitating momentarily before turning around and leaving the room, shuttling the door with a gentle click behind you.

With you gone, he shut his eyes. Both the pen in his hand and his head dropped, his interlaced hands becoming the resting place of his forehead. Yes he was tired but he had no time to consider that. Cracking open an eye he glanced to the pile of documents to the side that seemed to be ever growing. Although he had yet to be crowned King of Sanct Sybil, about six months prior his father had begun to struggle with ill health and was slowly starting to deteriorate in terms of his capabilities, meaning more and more of his responsibilities were beginning to fall into his hands.

For months there had been rumours circulating about his father, from the absurdity of him having abdicated or passing away in secret to the more correct guesses of him no longer being able to handle public appearances, and with no-one stepping in to say what was actually happening the unrest was beginning to be felt across the kingdom, and civil unrest was never a good thing when dealing with trade in other countries. However, his father had yet to express the want to back down from his position nor did he want the public to know of his state, very much believing in remaining a strong figurehead until the end, meaning he had to take on all of his responsibilities in secret. Of course, with him having so much more to deal with now, he was appearing in public himself much less with most of his day being spent in his office dealing with various stacks of paperwork and that in itself was causing even more rumours. With neither royal having been seen for a while he had heard the whispers of resistance groups wanting to overthrow them and take the nation in the name of one of the previously merged countries. Such extremist groups had always existed, but naturally around times of leadership changes or distress their causes became more supported, their venom reached further than normal.

You had offered to help, to take his place during royal summons to try and reduce some of the stress on him no doubt, but he and advisors had quickly rejected the notion. Technically you weren’t yet a part of the royal family, being neither his fiancée or wife, meaning politically you didn’t hold the position to be representing them alone, only being allowed to do so when with Ivan, but he also didn’t want you going out alone as a royal whilst the kingdom was as unstable as it currently was. Doing that would make you a prime target of extremists as a way to try and display their own power and conviction and also make the royals seem weak. He couldn’t let that happen. Shaking his head and heaving a sigh, he returned to work once more.

It wasn’t until his vision blurred to the point of being physically unable to read that he stopped, rubbing his eyes no longer clearing them. Knowing he had reached his daily limit he rose to his feet, placing away the documents securely for him to start on again when he had rested. The halls were silent apart from the echo of his own footsteps as he made his way back to his room.

He didn’t turn on the light, the curtains were cracked illuminating your sleeping form, walking to you, he rested a hand on your cheek when he noticed the furrow in your brow, clearly troubled even in your sleep. Even with his presence your expression didn’t soften. Stripping off his normal clothes he took his place in bed beside you, facing out the window he continued to gaze at the full moon. His back was cold, you were as far away from him as the bed would allow, curled up at the very edge. When this had first started, no matter the time he would return to the room you would greet him with a tired smile, he would admonish you for it each time, and when you thought he had finally fallen asleep you would hug him from behind, your warmth helping to lull him into slumber. How long had it been since that stopped?

Back in his office the next day he wasn’t given time to dwell on the thoughts from the previous night as he was straight back into work. Hours merged as paper after paper was taken, read, analysed, commented on, accepted, declines or sent back for more information. It was a knock on the door that once again drew his attention away. Sighing, he gave a call for them to enter and Mikhail did so followed by you.

“What are you doing here?” His tone came out far more clipped than he meant it to be, and he noticed you shrink back slightly from him, before he looked to your hands. In them lay a tray, a plate on top with steam rolling off the meal.

“I made you lunch.” He turned away, time spent with you was easy, it was far too easy to lose track and end up having lost hours of the day when he promised himself he would only take half an hour out. The insinuation of the meal was clear, you wanted to eat with him. He wanted to indulge you and himself, but there just wasn’t the time in his day.

“Thank you, leave it there and I’ll get to it shortly.”

“Can’t we-“

“Mikhail, in future please deliver meals yourself, she doesn’t need to waste time on such errands when she still has training to complete.” The butler’s expression fell somewhere between shock and a frown.

“Your Highness-“

“Ivan I can take a short while out of my day to give you lunch, and you should take time out as well!”

“You don’t know, as a matter of fact I don’t have time to take out.” He didn’t bother to add on that it was that way no matter his own desires. “Please leave now, I don’t have time to argue about this.” He raised his hand and motioned to Mikhail, the silver haired man sighed, stepping forward and resting a hand on your back.

“Please allow me to escort you out my lady.” The sympathy in his voice was clear as he began to gently guide you from the room.

“Wait a moment.” Your head snapped around the moment his voice reached your ears, expectation shining brightly in your eyes. “Friday next week the National Museum of Sanct Sybil is re-opening after major renovations, I will be going to the opening ceremony and you will join me.”

“Next Friday?”

“Yes, I said next Friday.”

“I can’t.”

“I’m sorry?” He glared. “You can’t?”

“I have something I have to do that day.” His patience wearing thin and ignoring the warning stare from Mikhail he stood from his desk, striding over to you.

“Something to do? You will one day be queen of Sanct Sybil, you will be a symbol of power and unity to this country. I’m sorry, but your personal errands can and will be carried out another time! This museum has been a national treasure for decades and you will be there to celebrate its reopening, not being there would be an insult to those who work there and the history of Sanct Sybil itself! Your attendance is non negotiable! Do I make myself clear?” His frustration leaked into his voice clearly, spoken so loudly is nearly echoed in the room. Any argument you had died in your throat, the unshed tears shone in your eyes and you didn’t respond, turning on your heels and fleeing from the office. Mikhail seemed conflicted, eyes flitting between the door you just exited through and back to him. He sighed, seating himself back in his chair.

“Your Highness-“

“Don’t lecture me Mikhail. No matter what she had planned, this is a huge reflection on her character. The people of Sanct Sybil support her, but if they think she’s starting to shirk her duties she could lose that favour. If she loses public support she could be in even more danger, we might be forbidden from being together.”

“Ivan.” The use of his first name drew his eyes up to the silver haired man. “I hold a lot of respect for you, and I tell you this not just as your butler, but as a friend. I know you do and say what you do to her to protect her, but she doesn’t. You should listen to what she has to say.”

“Are you deliberately ignoring my orders? I told you not to lecture me yet you do so anyway. Our relationship is none of your concern, and you will not interfere.” There was a tense moment of silence before Mikhail sighed.

“Very well, I’ll leave you be and go and check on her.”

Silence filled the room as he left, soon to be overtaken by the scratch of pen on paper, he needed to get as much done before he had to go to this opening ceremony. Perhaps the two of you could talk then.

The next week passed uneventfully for the most part, only the inclusion of talks around the security of the trip for the two of you and a rather tense conversation around the rise of extremist activities. Of course he was worried, but it was a dangerous balancing act between safety and public image, there were suggestion of brining the military out to the public to act as a deterrent, but doing so too early could also reflect badly on them. The last thing they needed at this point was the public saying that they were only doing this to show their power or that it was an overreaction. Not only that, what if this was part of a bigger plan in which the military was a target? He didn’t want to put lives in danger unnecessarily, be they solider or civilian.

Having finalised the security detail of today, he stared in the mirror, straightening out his collar. You had gone to change in another room leaving him alone with his even stoic butler who ran a lint roller over the back of his suit.

“Are you sure you would like no-one else with you today?”

“No, any more people would make security more difficult and unpredictable, it will just be the two of us, please just prepare for our return and make sure those documents get to where they need to be.” Meeting his eye in the mirror he gave a prompt nod before stepping to the side, allowing him to pass by and leave the room to meet you in the limo.

Making his way down, he didn’t have to wait long for you to appear. In a modest dress you emerged at the end of the hallway with a maid, the woman beside you pulling you into a gentle hug upon noticing your forlorn expression. You seemed to take comfort in the gesture, leaning into the hug and wrapping your arms around the older woman’s back as if trying to use her to hold yourself together. He couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the odd behaviour. You soon pulled yourself from the hug, taking a breath before walking out to join him. He went to open the door for you, but you got there before him, pulling the handle and sliding in. He sighed, climbing into the car and noticing you were sat at the other window refusing to meet his eye. He shook his head, simply assuming you were still upset about the fact he had made you attend over your errand so the two of you simply sat in a tense silence. He waited for you to break it, but after ten minutes of you ignoring his presence he decided this silence had gone on for too long.

“Don’t you think enough is enough?” You glanced out the corner of your eye to him, but shut your eyes and turned your face away slightly. “I know you’re upset about your plans, but you mustn’t let it show. You mustn’t let it look like it’s a chore for you to be there.” You still didn’t respond, so with a sigh he conceded. “Fine, act as you like for now. But the moment you’re in public view you need to smile.”

The two of you sunk back into the silence for the remainder of the journey. Upon reaching the museum he automatically put his guard up, exiting the limo first and scanning the surroundings for any sign of trouble as one of the guards offered you his hand and helped you out. He stepped away from the car, holding out his arm in a clear invite for you to take it. Slowly you joined him from your side of the car, guards lining the streets either side of the two of you. As asked, you were smiling, it didn’t reach your eyes, but it was no longer something that could be mentioned, so making do with your loose grip on him he escorted you up the marble stairs to the grand entrance of the museum that was covered by a thick red ribbon that stretched the width of the entryway. The claps and cheers of the audience rung in his ears as he walked you back to the ribbon, pecking you on the cheek, briefly tightening his hand around yours before taking his place at the podium and allowing the crowd to settle before he spoke.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,

It is with much appreciation that myself and the Princess stand here today to commemorate the re-opening of the Sanct Sybil National Museum after two years of hard and dedicated work from skilled craftsmen to restore this iconic monument. The effort put forth by them shines through every part of this structure, and serves as a fitting home for the history once again housed within its wall.

Sanct Sybil has come a long way from where it started, but we must never forget where we came from, or those who made it possible for us to live as we do. Therefore I would like for all of you to join me in celebrating this re-opening, for us to hold dear to our hearts the history that has led us to where we are, and to carry on their legacy of fighting for a better Sanct Sybil so the generations that follow ours can look back on us with the same thankfulness.”

The end of his speech was met with applauds and cheers as he turned and motioned you to his side. You did so obediently, plastering a smile on your face as he took your hand, each of you taking on side of the large scissors he had been given you posed for a moment at the ribbon, allowing the press to get their photos before finally cutting it.

Security stayed barely out of site as he guided you to the side, out of the way of the people entering the museum, nodding and greeting those who spoke to him as they entered.

“Are we not going in ourselves?”

“No, it’s too dangerous at the moment, the security may be the latest but our attendance has been broadcast nationwide. We can’t be sure of who might be waiting for a us.”

“Were you actually going to tell me we were only going to be here to cut the ribbon?”

“It may ‘just’ be ribbon cutting for you, but people can latch onto the smallest things. Crowd mentality could be used against you if you’re seen to be disrespecting Sanct Sybil.”

“Is missing one event all it takes to be seen as disrespectful around here?”

“Times are tense, and the tabloids will jump on anything they can to get a sale, even if it’s discrediting honest people and lying. They don’t care about the damage they do.”

Noticing that the security detail had begun to move, and that everyone had entered the museum, he took your hand in his. “Come now, we should head back to the palace. It’s safer there.”

You looked like you wanted to say something, but bit your tongue no doubt remembering you were still in public, he gently pulled you along, but soon noticed noise and commotion up ahead. Motioning to the closest security guard, he approached looking mildly nervous.

“What’s happening?”

“Your highness, there are protesters. They’ve surrounded the limo.”

“What?” He managed to cloak his panic with just a slight widening of his eyes. “Is there any violence yet?”

“Not as of yet, but they’re riling each other up rather quickly, I don’t imagine it’ll be long.”

He frowned, crowd mentality was a dangerous thing. He had to get you out of there, and fast. He wasn’t going to risk your safety.

“There’s a spare unmarked car around the back of the museum, take her there and get her back to the palace as soon as possible. Let myself and my security detail know as soon as she’s there.”

“Ivan! I’m not leaving you-“

“You are.” He motioned to some of the security force. “You’ll guide her there, make sure no one is following you. Stay on high alert until she’s back within the palace gates, do you understand me? If anything happens to her, you will be held responsible.” They nodded, quickly taking your arm despite your protests and taking you around the side of the museum. He turned his back on you, walking away as he heard you calling out his name. “Be safe.”

It took many stressful hours to subdue the crowd. He had spoken to and made arrangements with more people than he care to count, from liaising with the museum staff to ensure the safe exit of their guests, to the police to get them working together with the royal security to contain the riot and to make sure those who started it were identified and arrested, and then contacting the department of information to pass on the identities of those involved to be investigated. Of course, he hadn’t let the stress show on his face, how could he as the symbol of Sanct Sybil? So by the time he returned to the palace himself, he was thoroughly exhausted.

He went to head to his room, but the hurried footsteps in his direction caused him to pause.

“What the hell are you playing at Ivan?!” Your angry voice reached his ears, and he had to hold back a sigh of exhaustion as he turned to face you.

“This isn’t personal. You needed to be removed from the area for your own safety.”

“Oh no no. You don’t get to make this about me Ivan. I have been trying so hard to be understanding, but I’m reaching my limit here! We promised to stay together! How could you just throw me in a car and send me off like I’m some kind of nuisance?! No explanation, no apology, no reassurance, NOTHING! For eight hours I’ve been wondering if you’re alive, injured, I had no idea! Do you know how helpless you’ve been making me feel recently?!” Your yelling rung around his skull, he needed to talk to you. Tell you of what had been happening, but he couldn’t now. He was far too tired, he couldn’t have such a straining conversation with you in the state he was currently in.

“Look, we can discuss this tomorrow. I’m tired and wish to go to bed now, I’ll be meeting with a number of governors tomorrow, so can we please postpone this until tomorrow evening?”

You seemed frozen in place, eyes wide, limbs shaking with pent up rage as you desperately bit your tongue. That was until you stalked past him.

“I’m staying in a guest room tonight. Don’t disturb me.” Your clipped warning was all he received before you disappeared down the corridor. Something about your tone unsettled him, he had seen you angry before, but to have it directed at him was not a pleasant experience. With another sigh, he trudged back to your shared bedroom, allowing a maid in to take you enough for the night from your wardrobe and vanity, before he changed and slid into bed, hoping the two of you would be able to fully discuss this tomorrow.

The next day was plain, he brushed off Mikhail’s suggestion of having a small talk with you before he left for the day, informing him that he was extremely busy and wouldn’t be free, but he also felt that perhaps it would be better to give you some more time to cool down. When he spoke with you, he wanted the both of you to be calm, he also advised Mikhail to return the items you had taken to the guest room back to your bedroom, he wouldn’t allow this discussion to fail, there was no need for you to sleep in the guest room and cause more work for the maids. His royal duties were easy to deal with, mainly consisting of discussing new potential policies with governors, and deciding whether they make logistical and financial sense, and collecting the paperwork of those that might be for further review. He made quick work of it all, deciding to take some of them home with him, he couldn’t break his plans for tonight.

It was seven in the evening upon his return. The sun had begun to set, dyeing the inside of the palace a beautiful orange. But something was wrong, he could tell. The staff were slow, sullen. The smiles they greeted him with seemed forced.

“Mikhail!” His butler appeared before him as if expecting his call.

“Yes, Your Highness?” He held the papers in his hand out to him.

“Please place these in my office. I need to go and find her.” He obviously knew who the ‘her’ he was referring to was. “Do you know where she is?”

“No, Sir.” He gave a sharp nod to confirm he had heard. There were a few places he thought you could be. The gardens, the library, the guest room you had stayed in. He was confused to find you in none of them, the last place he could think of. The bedroom. Perhaps you hadn’t had a good night sleep, was all he could consider. He knocked on the door, gently calling your name. When he got no response, his brow furrowed. Opening the door the check, his heart dropped. Something was definitely wrong.

The room was bare of any sign of you. The vanity missing your products, your nightstand devoid of framed photos, he checked the wardrobe, half empty. All of your clothes gone. His heart was drumming in his chest, ringing loudly in his ears as the possibilities crowded his thoughts, so he did the only thing he could think to do, and called one of the few people he could trust.

“You called, Your Highness?”

“Mikhail, what’s going on here? Where are her things? Where is she?”

“I don’t know.”

“HOW CAN YOU NOT KNOW?!”

“Because the last time I saw her is when she asked for a car to be brought to the front to take her to the airport.” His world seemed to freeze along with his panicked thoughts.

“…What?”

“She left for the airport early this morning.”

“Where was she going?!”

“I don’t know, Sir. I didn’t ask. But I assume she’s gone home.”

“YOU LET HER LEAVE?!”

“Your Highness, it is my job to assist the royals in any request given to me. It is not my job to question and speculate. She asked for a car, I provided her with one. She also asked for me to give you this.” His gloved hand drew an envelope from his blazer pocket, which he then held out to him.

Ivan looked at the crisp white envelope, before carefully plucking it from his butler’s hand. He was furious at him, but he handled it with extreme care, gently running his fingers over his name that was etched in black ink in that familiar handwriting.

“I assumed had has something to do with the funeral.”

“Funeral?”

“Did she not tell you? Her father passed away a few weeks ago, his funeral was yesterday. She was devastated that she couldn’t attend.

The conversation you had had crossed his mind, and he suddenly felt the guilt consume him, he had called something so personal little more than an errand, dismissed it outright. His anger at you felt so misplaced after he realised the reason behind your sadness. Had he truly been so distant from you that you felt unable to tell him something so important?

“Leave, Mikhail. I don’t want to see you for a while.”

“Of course, Your Highness.” He gave a bow, before exiting the room.

Silence enveloped him, and he didn’t want to disturb it, taking slow, quiet steps towards the bed, he turned and sat himself down. Simply staring at the envelope for a while. It felt as if the moment he opened it, he would regret it. He wasn’t sure he wanted to read what you had written. But in the end the concern for your wellbeing being won over his nerves, and he opened the envelope, unfolding the letter inside.

Dear Ivan,

I’m sorry, I can’t do this anymore. I wish I were someone stronger, someone you felt you could rely on, someone you felt safe in sharing your troubles with. But these past months have showed me that this isn’t the case. I’ve tried so hard to reach out to you, so many times I’ve tried to give you even a moment’s rest, but you just won’t hear of it. I’m sorry it took me until yesterday to see it.

It’s become clear to me that we can’t stay together, not like this. It feels as if there’s a mountain between us, and that’s not what a marriage should be built on. I’m not even sure if you’ll care that I’ve left, it certainly doesn’t feel like you’ve cared about much at all, not recently at least. Somewhere along the way, the mutual trust between us has been lost. You seem so far out of my reach, and it breaks my heart to even look at you. I’m sorry I’m not someone you could rely on. I wish you well, Ivan, and I truly do wish you are able to find that person, whoever they may be.

I am sad to go, and I have no doubt this will hurt me for a while, but I don’t hold malice towards you. Your job is an important one, I know this, and I’m sorry that I didn’t notice sooner that there was something stopping you from confiding in me as you did. Time changes people, and it appears to have changed us. There can’t be happiness in such a relationship.

I love you Ivan, and I wish you the very best, as the future ruler of Sanct Sybil, and as a person. From the bottom of my heart. I’ve learnt so much at your side, and grown as a person, and I will be forever thankful for that. Goodbye, and may the very best of luck be with you.

Love,

[Y/N]

He stared at the words, reading over them again and again, nearly burning them into his brain. You were gone. He had never realised how large this palace, how large this room felt to be in alone. Your infectious smile and optimism seemed to coat the walls, and with it gone the place felt hollow and empty. Looking up, he placed the letter on his bedside and in its place picked up a simple framed picture of the two of you. It was taken by one of the princes when they all came over simply because they could. The two of you had taken them all to the field you often took Snieg and Urey , the photo had been snapped there.

It was one of your favourite places, and as he thought back on all the time you two had spent there, he recalled a particular conversation he had had with you whilst there on a picnic.

“You look tired Ivan.”

“I’m alright.”

“You don’t need to lie to me, it’s written clear as day on your face.”

“Alright, I am a little tired.”

“I knew it.”

“It’s to be expected. One day I will carry the responsibility of this whole country.”

“The whole country?” The smile you had given him shone bright in his mind. “Isn’t that stressful?”

“…It can be.”

“Well, if that ever becomes too much to think about, try to think about it in terms of those closest to you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, trying to see a whole country isn’t easy. So see it as doing the best thing by those close to you! You know, Mikhail, the staff at the palace. To do the best by them, their families need to be happy as well, do by narrowing it down to the individual level it can be less daunting, you know? See it as not the whole country, but as a few people who are close to your heart. That way, you know you wouldn’t do wrong by them.”

The words you had spoken that day rung in his mind, and he pressed his forehead against the glass of the frame and shut his eyes. He hadn’t done what was best for you, too concerned about everything else and assuming how you would react, and only now did he realise he had done so, too late to make amends.

#voltage inc #ivan chernenkov #bmp2 #be my princess 2 #x reader #reader insert #voltage games #voltage romance sims #voltage otome #voltage #fanfiction #voltage fanfic

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reignsan · 4 years

Text

The Prelatis show Richard the events of Zero via their illusions, hoping to demoralize him by showing him the ways it broke Artoria, since he’s the world’s biggest King Arthur fanboy.

Instead he proceeds to go on a huge joyful fanboy rant about how much he loves her and thanks the Prelatis for what they showed him.

Long post warning. Translated by You on Beast’s Lair:

AYAKA was horrified. Saber who usually had a lot of say hadn't spoken a word since the king in blue appear. There were no words of praise or gasps of surprise, it was almost as if she couldn't feel Saber's presence even if he was just across from her. The figure of the king who did not obtain anything, the king who was treated as a magus' hunting dog, who euthanized the weak of the edge of death, and at the very end betrayed when she was about to fulfill her wish. What was going through Saber's mind when he saw that? AYAKA had to speak, but she couldn't think of anything to say to him. However, beside AYAKA, the silent Saber raised his voice. "Francesca Prelati" Hearing that voice AYAKA reflectively turned. Saber's face was completely blank but she felt as though some glistened in his eye. Maybe it was her imagination or maybe they tears of despair from from the shock. But, it was the reverse. Upright, Saber gave this illusionary world a bow of the highest grade. "The person who edited this illusion should know the weight of king bowing to another." "Saber?" In front of the bewildered AYAKA, Saber spoke the words that echoed from his soul. "However, from the bottom of my heart, I would like to express my gratitude for teaching me this new heroic tale of the great Knight King!" Growing aware of the emotions that were bubbling up from his words, not just AYAKA, but also the Prelatis started showing signs of confusion. He was overwhelmingly... delighted. 　 If those were tears that glistened in his eyes, it seems they were from gratitude and delight. "Saber... what?" "AYAKA.... look at the Knight King... Don't you see a hero?" "Eh?" "As for me, Ayaka. I already know the legend of the Round Table, how the king is betrayed, how unreasonable things happened, how at the last moment she was worn-out and lost everything. But, I admire even those parts." As AYAKA tilts her head, Richard begins to speak slowly as if a boy talking about his favorite baseball team. "And its not like the other two kings denied the Knight King's answer in the banquet." "Eh? But, with that much shouting..." "Think carefully. It was just because Alexander the Great was angry. He never denied the Knight King's royal path. There was a lot of talk about her being a figurehead idol, but he never denied the idol herself. It's simple, he was saying "I'll acknowledge your achievements but I don't like it."" Far from distracted, Richard spoke much more calmly than ever and AYAKA said surprised. "Is that... so?" "This is second-hand from my mother but, "The king does not walk the royal path; the people who walk that path are known as the nation." Depending on the era and the geography, the nation and vassals' moods, morality and everything else easily shifts. That's why there's no right answer to that conversation, and above all, the three who participated are the ones who should understand that the most. We are trying to infer their reasoning, not determine how right they are." While grandly standing, Richard offered a joke to AYAKA. "Well, there was one thing our Knight King lacked compared to the others. Her voice was too small! I would approve and deny any king's intentions! After all, it's natural for who was born in a different land, in a different time to have their own royal intentions! But the guy who said "I was the one who was right!" at the end was strong. He reminded me of that Crusader, Phillip. Seeing this, the Prelati's voices became dyed in bewilderment. "Okay, I'm going there. Shouldn't you be more serious about insulting the other two kings or be in despair at Arto-chan to the point that your extra skin falls off?" "By the way, aren't you surprised King Arthur is a girl?" Erasing all emotion from their voice, they spoke with confidence. "Of course.. You already know." "The magecraft entangled with the true King Arthur... no, Artoria Pendragon's legend. You somehow reached it, didn't you? Looking away from the doubting Prelatis, Richard stretched his entire body. "I see. So that was really your goal. Do you want to know how far I've stepped into the history of the Knight King? I'm afraid to say I haven't been to the tower where Merlin's imprisoned." Then, his expression left his face and looked up at the sky in deep, deep thought. "Ahh... but that was really wonderful... Alexander the Great, Goldie, and my ancestral king... Everyone was a "King" beyond imagination." "Saber?" AYAKA spoke because she was worried. Saber was not shocked, but instead stopped moving and started monologuing. Saber slowly turned back down to her and said, "AYAKA" "W-What?" "AYAKA's determination... I'll accept it." "Eh?" In front of the blankly staring AYAKA, Saber spread his arms out wide, making no effort to hide his damaged armor. "One more time... I want our meeting to have had meaning." With a theatrical bow, Richard takes AYAKA's hand in one flowing movement. "I ask you..." The king and the girl standing in a solemn castle in the middle of a forest blended into the landscape with beautiful harmony. Just like a verse in a heroic tale told in many legends. "Are you my Master?"

[...]

Running to meet the materialized "death" that was filling the city, Saber's heart soared. -As legend, King Arthur was his ally. If he relaxed his trembling heart a little, he may shed tears of joy. Her actions deserved praise. Whether it was the thread from those she trusted or her own thread, she had re-spun it herself over and over, making sure the fluttering flag of our country would never break. The body moved unconsciously, clearing away two, three giant skulls. -Of course, if I had taken a different path, I might not choose to redo everything. His movements sped up as he cut down each skull. By the time he killed more than ten, he had already reached his maximum speed when he was fighting the golden Heroic Spirit. -But so what? Such a thing is trivial. That's just a difference in values. As Saber struggled forth, one by one the knights and archers that made up his retinue smashed into the surrounding giant skulls. "Without talk of morality, I'll praise your conviction!" He realized he was shouting. Unable to contain the overflowing thoughts, he shouted in delight as he ran up the hotel at high speed. "That's why I admire you! No matter how angry the Conqueror King! No matter how mocking the ancient Hero King!" Richard actually understood the source of the Conqueror King's anger. He was fond of Alexander but could not deny King Arthur's will. After all, the royal path the Lionhearted King walks is completely different from those three. That's why he celebrates. It is belief in the ideal the Knight King embraced that forms his chivalry. "I will affirm my chivalry, spun from my ideals, until it results in the fruits of my subjects returning to nothing. That is my tyranny; the poof of my kingship!" Richard asserts that he believes the Knight King's "sacrificing oneself for her ideals" is "tyranny" and proclaims it commendable. Hearing that voice, the police look on in wonderment. AYAKA lets out a big sigh, "how just like him," and smiles. "...But o' Great King Arthur. You've been worrying too much about one thing." Saber's face was slightly clouded as he stated his concern, and as if offering counsel to someone not present, recited his thoughts. "O'Ancestral king to mine chivalry! You have not noticed! The country the Round Table constructed, the Round Table destroyed, does not need to be remade!" "For King Arthur has guided us to Avalon!"

[...]

Having run up to the rooftop of the next tallest building behind the Crystal Hill, Saber gave himself a second to catch his breath. "My great ancestral king! I'll prove to you!" In front of him was a remarkably giant, jet black skull. It was made from fusing many of the giant skulls together. From its back bloomed an uncountable number of bones so it resembled Avalokiteśvara. In front of the grotesque monster, Saber had no fear and continued to carve praise for King Arthur onto the world. "The royal path you walked was never wrong!" Saber kicked off from the rooftop and soared high into the sky. "The pride and the royal path the Round Table left us is what created us. Their tragedy and ruin shaped our souls! The glory of humanity, chivalry, is eternal. It shall never fall. Let me sing that to the Round Table and yourself!" As he passed through the encroaching jet black flame, Saber fired a slash of light with all the power he possessed. "We who admire you have lain eyes upon it! O'Ancestral King Arthur please keep watch!" While singing the wish he carried at the top of his lungs. "I may have already lost my qualification but..." After a momentary self-depreciating smile came a shout studded in the radiance of a wish entrusted to someone he had not yet seen nor heard. "One day, someone who isn't me will finally reach utopia (you)! Ahh, yes! The history of planet you spun will surely deliver the place your body lays a peaceful breeze! And until the sound of that blessing plays -!" "With the Holy Grail's power - I shall sing humanity's victory song so that it even reaches the depths of utopia (Avalon).

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