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kiryoutann · 9 months

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At his ripe age for marriage, Emperor Shiva ought to be more concerned with finding a wife than he is with a letter he held between his thumb and forefinger while standing in a state of shock. His birthday banquet is in two days; he should have busied himself overseeing the décor preparations and entertainment for the overseas guests, not clamping his jaw, crumpling the paper into a ball, and throwing it angrily.

"Childe.. how dare he..!" Shiva shouted, turning to face his confidant. "How dare he do something so... vile!"

From his outraged reaction, the confidant deduced that Emperor Childe had done something as awful as stab him in the back. That seems to be what he would do. But he recalled the rumors that the Snezhnayan ruler had put to death a number of his nobles for grave defamation of Liyue. He was young, yet brave enough to take drastic measures for the crimes committed during his reign. If he still harbored secretly wicked intentions toward the great Liyue empire, he shouldn't have bothered to do that, right?

So, the confidant ventured to ask: "Your Majesty, is everything all right?"

“Are you blind? Of course not!" He shoved the paper against his confidant's chest and paced back and forth in uneasiness as he waited for him to finish reading.

The handwriting was neat, still easy to read even though the paper was crumpled—thanks to Shiva. Although Liu—the poor confidant's name—kept sweeping his eyes, he couldn't help but feel guilty for reading private letters written by other people to other people. Thinking that this should only be a conversation between the Empress of Snezhnaya and the Emperor of Liyue didn't help either.

Nothing you've written is unfavorable; nothing even remotely resembles a threat or your mention of any mistreatment. It merely contained your sincere apologies to Shiva for having to send someone to attend on your and Childe's behalf, and for being unable to go due to severe morning sickness, which is typical of pregnancy's second trimester. His eyes widen. That's surprising, nonetheless, not a bad thing. He congratulated you in his heart.

Liu furrowed his brows, lowering the letter to stare at the Emperor. “Your Majesty?” he called.

Shiva halted in mid-step and fixed him with piercing eyes. "Have you read it?" His voice was firm, demanding.

“Yes, I have, but I..” When Liu sensed Shiva's intense gaze, he paused and let his words hang. As he once more held the letter up, he forced a hard swallow. “Apologies, perhaps I missed a point—”

"She's pregnant.”

Liu paused once more as his mind tried to make sense of anything. "She's pregnant." His mind went over the two phrases, trying to find something vile out of it. He stopped thinking when he felt his scalp heat up. Was this supposed to be a riddle? Before he could answer (and risk himself for failing to understand once again), Shiva blew a harsh breath from his mouth. He clenched his fists tightly, popping the veins under his skin. His handsome face were tarnished by a wrath that Liu couldn't place.

"She's pregnant. He impregnated her.” Shiva made sure to emphasize the “he” part.

From all the emphasis on his words and the movement of his fingers to accentuate everything, Liu still couldn't understand; at this point he believed he had suddenly lost his intelligence and was left with only one very overworked brain cell. He would grow wrinkles from furrowing his brows for the umpteenth time. Shiva took another sharp breath before pacing back and forth.

"Congratulations to the Emperor and Empress of Snezhnaya..?" Liu said doubtfully.

Shiva shook his head vigorously. So, it wasn't a congratulation he wanted to hear. Liu followed the Emperor briskly into his dressing room, where he saw him pick up a luggage and place it on the crimson couch. Like a madman, he took most of his clothes and stuffed it all in without even bothering to fold it properly. His confidant hastily stopped him.

“Your Majesty, what are you doing?”

The long-haired man grabbed his sword from the display and swung it open too fast that he nearly struck Liu. "I have to go to Snezhnaya." He spoke while looking at the steel and his reflection in it.

"What?!" Liu's heart skipped a beat as he hadn't expected his intonation to be that loud. He cleared his throat, then corrected: “Apologies, Your Majesty. But, are you sure?"

"Yes. Bring the maids here to prepare my belongings.” Shiva gave up trying to get all of his clothes into one luggage. He slowly placed his sword on his bed and rested his palms on his hips.

"But what of your birthday banquet in two days' time?”

“Ah, you're right.” Liu almost breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that Shiva had returned to his right mind. Shiva's next words dashed those expectations, however, as he chose to open his mouth and utter, "Send out a letter to everyone, informing them that the banquet is canceled! I shall spend my birthday week in Snezhnaya."

“B-But, Your Majesty!”

“Now, fetch me the maids. I must cleanse myself and my belongings require to be packed.” Shiva commanded as he took off his robe, leaving only his trousers on. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror but noticed that Liu hadn’t left the room. In response, the Emperor’s head rotated sharply, and his gaze went over to him with an intense expression. “What are you waiting for? Hurry and summon the maids!” he snapped.

With a huff, Liu hastily left the room and almost slipped (he cursed himself for being so unfortunate today). Maids came soon after in a rush, some preparing a warm bath for Shiva, while other maidens packed his belongings quickly and efficiently without daring to ask questions; no one ever dared to question the things Emperor Shiva did, even if they were rather illogical to the normal mind.

The news of your brother’s impromptu visit was relayed to you by Countess Sasha, who entered your reading room, bowed, and stated that Emperor Shiva was now residing within the Emerald Palace. You raised your eyebrows in surprise as you considered this revelation. Previously, during every trip to Snezhnaya, Shiva had always decided to live in the mansion he owned rather than the palace grounds. As you set down your book, you attempted to stand upright from your seated position with the assistance of Ksenia and Laura, who were each clasping one of your hands.

Your face remained puzzled, with questions about the sudden change. Why? Wasn’t there a birthday banquet scheduled for the very next day?

The sound of Sasha’s footsteps came closer before she knelt down next to you. “How are you, my lady?” Sasha inquired softly. “Does the queasiness still trouble?”

You paused for a moment to feel your body, then shook your head with a smile. “It has subsided,” you replied. Taking Laura’s hand for support, you rose from your chair.

Sasha noticed your movements and straightened respectfully. “Should you wish an audience with Emperor Shiva, may I suggest inviting him here instead of embarking on the long journey to the Emerald Palace?” Her voice was full of worry, but you couldn’t help but sigh at her words.

“Sasha, I’m with child, not on the verge of perishing,”

The Countess swiftly shook her head as she spoke. “Of course, I did not intend to imply that it was otherwise,” she hurriedly said. “however, it was His Majesty who had directed me to look after you well.” She explained, her tone coming across with genuine care and concern.

“Oh, fantastic. I can hardly break free from his shackles, can I?”

You conveyed your protest half-heartedly. The Queen Dowager had informed you that it was normal to feel dependent and in need of help while pregnant (it is an extremely significant and sensitive time for women). However, there was a stark contrast between her words and reality; it was Childe who irritated you with how much he always wanted to be by your side more than was necessary. You failed to keep track of the innumerable instances he told you that you needn’t be concerned since he possessed the knowledge and experience from his mother's pregnancy when she was expecting Teucer; however, he continued to perspire and ordered Dmitri to call for the healer each and every time you throw up from the morning sickness in the early hours.

You grimace. Upon further reflection, Dmitri deserves to receive a full year of paid leave. Even under Childe's pressure, he had performed admirably.

“Your Majesty.” Sasha stepped closer to the door and gave a warning, her frown deepening and dipping in displeasure at your defiant behavior. She was certain that if this kept up, she would age faster.

“Come now, Countess, there’s no need to worry,” You soothed, glancing down fondly at your growing belly. “You seem to forget that this child's father is Tartaglia – do you truly believe a stroll through the gardens would cause us harm?”

You caressed your swollen middle affectionately. “However, do pass me my coat, won't you? It seems the babe has inherited their mother's weakness for this country's chill autumn airs.” You continued, watching as Ksenia hurriedly grabbed a coat for you.

Ultimately, despite her doubts and a heavy heart, Sasha let you walk to see your brother. You slowly made your way out of your room and down the Golden Spire palace's lengthy hallway. Indeed, the building where the emperor and empress lived was beautiful, with the ceiling covered in intricate gold filigree work and light streaming into the hallway, illuminating the entire area. Even the pillars, which have stood for hundreds of years, still looked strong and exquisitely polished. However, the everyday scenery is quickly replaced by the stunning autumn setting as soon as you reach outside. Golden rays of the sun filter through the colorful trees and bring a warm glow to the imperial grounds. You stopped after you stepped on dry leaves, the pleasant crinkling sound of them causing a smile to tug at the corners of your lips.

“Is something the matter, Your Majesty?” As you guessed, Sasha hurriedly approached you.

“No.” You answered her while stroking your growing stomach greeting the small kick inside. With your eyes squinted from the glare of the sun, you catch another two dry leaves falling tossing and turning before they hit the ground. “Autumn is coming to an end.”

Your remark caused the three ladies-in-waiting to glance at the garden's big oak tree. “Indeed, Your Majesty.” Sasha replied to you.

“Winter is coming.” you mused again, the imperial physician's words echoed once more - the child would be a winter-born. Soon, very soon, you would hold your son or daughter in your arms at last.

Sasha nodded. “That's right,” she paused, then furrowed her brows, curious and concerned. “Is something wrong, Your Majesty?” She watched you smile before suddenly resuming your steps, requiring your ladies-in-waiting to hurriedly follow you.

The Emerald Palace building comes into sight. You noticed the vibrant blooms had faded, their petals falling to join the fiery leaves carpeting the grounds. The gurgling of water from a three-tier fountain could be heard. Your footsteps slowed at a polished figure seated solitary, chin raised with calm pride over steaming tea under a shady tree—from his posture, you easily recognized your older brother and proceeded to approach him.

“Brother.”

From that familiar voice, the young emperor turned his head sharply. (Y/N). He raked his gaze over her starting from her head—not much had changed from her hair being longer than the last time he saw her; her face was still as beautiful as before. Those luscious lips of hers should have been proof enough that somehow that bastard Tartaglia wasn't treating her badly (but Shiva knew he couldn't be too sure, after all this was Tartaglia he was talking about). His gaze, cold and flinty, traveled lower.

There, roundness was unmistakably forming where antes there had been flatness. Shiva’s hands clenched into fists at his sides as confirmation of his worst fears stared back at him—the telltale swell and curve of your belly, stretched taut with new life. His scowl twisted into a snarl.

“(Y/N).” Your name came out as a growl. “So the news is true. You carry that cad Tartaglia's spawn.” His lips curled in disgust.

A sigh escaped your lips. “His Majesty the Emperor is my husband, brother. Did you come all this way without a word, disrupting your duties, just to weigh down the father of your future niece or nephew?” You replied calmly.

Myriad full moons have come and passed, yet you remain the epitome of a lady who possessed the control and mastery over her emotions. In the past, it was a source of pride to Shiva from how you refused to break under any pressure—that if anyone wanted to find a flaw in you, their failure was all that could be found. But, now that he met your gaze with a flare of his own eyes, it irked him how you could remain so infuriatingly calm when he wanted to stir strong emotions.

“You concluded correctly, sister. My purpose is precisely to weigh that tyrant," he replied tersely. “He is unworthy of one like you. To think, my esteemed sister reduced to bearing the offspring of a mere war dog."

You gazed steadily at your brother, trying to keep a reign on your rising frustration. As Empress, you are well-practiced in diplomacy. But with family, diplomacy sometimes feels like a losing battle.

Taking a measured breath, you speak in a soft yet unyielding tone. “Ajax may have been a warrior in his youth, but he is so no longer, his battle-days are behind him. As the Emperor of Snezhnaya, he is a skilled ruler and has treated me with nothing but love and respect.”

If Shiva insists on continuing this argument, you swear—oh, you swear on God's name—to turn and walk away from him. No matter that he traveled all the way from Liyue and abandoned the birthday banquet that he called off (based on the information that Sasha brought), you're feeling the effects of the physical changes on your body and worry that you won't be able to handle much more. The babe is restless and your patience wearing thin. Another cutting remark and you might do something unwise.

Shiva was about to part his lips, and you braced yourself to hear more nonsense from him. He puffed himself like a pufferfish ready to strike, his facial expression wild and you wondered what was going on inside his head.

“I shall demand Tartaglia face me in single combat at once! For putting you in such a condition without my consent!”

You release a long-suffering sigh, one delicate hand lifted to press gloved fingers against furrowed brow. “For heaven's sake, brothers, husbands and wives tend to produce children without their siblings' approval. It's the natural way of things.”

“But you are the princess! And my sister!” Shiva sputtered. “No man touches you without my say-so!”

You massaged the bridge of your nose. “Shiva, I was married off with full blessings; and I'm an Empress now, with duties and affections of my own. Must you act stupid all the time? The child kicks as we speak, eager to meet the world, and you insist on this nonsense?” Your patience drips faster with every word Shiva says.

“He must answer for impregnating you!”

You throw your hands to the sky with failing patience. “For the love of—I'm just as responsible, you twit! Now either you end this stupidity or board the next ship before I brain you with this teapot.”

The Liyuean emperor was about to respond once more when you shot him a pointed look that silenced him for a thousand words. Shiva—the imposing and menacing Shiva—now visibly deflated like a sad balloon; anyone watching might have mistaken him for a large, pouting child rather than the mighty emperor of Liyue. His looming form seemed to shrink in on itself, broad shoulders curling forward and thick eyebrows kitting into a hurt frown.

Feeling your anger subside, you exhale bringing the last of your irritation out of your body, ready for a calmer, more reasonable conversation. “Come now, brother,” you started. “Stop sulking like a child. While you are here, I want to spend some good time with you. I've missed your company.”

Reaching out, you grabbed his larger hand trying to cheer him up. “Now then, why is it you've stayed inside the palace this time, instead of your favorite mansion as usual? Did something happen there?” You asked, your eyes narrowed with curiosity.

It was unusual for Shiva to leave the privacy of his mansion, settling at the Emerald Palace instead. It was always his habit to keep himself as far away from the radius of the Snezhnaya royal—imperial, now—family as possible. Or perhaps, as difficult as it was for your towering brother to admit, he simply wanted to spend more time with you during this visit. With a child soon to arrive, everyone will need the bonds of kinship to thrive; Shiva may have long assumed that your parents would not be on your list of expected family members, judging by your complicated relationship with your Liyuean family—duty and tradition often take precedence over emotional bonds. Shiva is the only one left as that anchor of familial closeness now more than ever.

Shiva cleared his throat gruffly, tugging at his ornate collar as if suddenly feeling confined. “Well, you know how it is. Can’t have you and that man multiplying willy-nilly before this one’s arrival, now can we?”

Your eyebrows fell in the flat, annoyed face you showed him. “Shiva, I say this with affection—producing children does not work that way.”

A hint of pink surfaced on his stately cheekbones. “Nonsense, I know precisely how these matters work. My informants keep me well-apprised.”

"Do they?" You raise a slender brow. “Somehow I doubt your informants' ‘updates' covered the specifics of pregnancy.”

Shiva harrumphed. “But, how then do twins come to be if not two planted at a time?”

You stifled a laugh. “The seed of twins quickens together through some quirk of nature, not… repetitive activities, as you suggest. One pregnancy, two babes—a blessing, not a strategy.”

The imposing Emperor of Liyue—tall and broad-shouldered, with chiseled features any sculptor with covet; yet, for all his power and prestige, in some ways, Shiva would always be the same. Small wonder the ladies of the court were forever vying for his attention, with but a glance and rumbling baritone, Shiva could make even the most steadfast knees quake. His valor in battle was legendary throughout Teyvat. As Emperor of Liyue, he commanded absolute obedience through dominance, vigilance, and cunning.

Yet for all his strength, domestic minutiae proved his bane. You have long grown accustomed to gently schooling him about the softer side of life. Babes, intimacy, and vulnerability were mystical puzzles to your pragmatic brother. They reminded you that for all his power and influence, at heart he remained your big brother. The same big brother who skipped etiquette class to play with you.

"Hmm.." Shiva stroked his imaginary beard. “There is still the matter of your… husband.”

You sigh. “Again?” This time, you turn your shoes to turn the other way. The wind was too cold and your legs were too sore to have this conversation anymore.

Shiva walked quickly to catch up with you. “He had best treated you well in your condition.” He grumbled, eyes hard as granite.

“Ajax dotes on me, as always.” Sometimes it's even too close to smothering; you wanted to add anything but didn't, out of concern that somehow Shiva will magically take this as a literal complaint. "But I thank you for your concern, brother."

The last rays of sunlight were fading fast as clouds deepened its shades of gray across the Emerald Palace gardens. You gazed around appreciatively, taking in the seasonal beauty of falling leaves. Auburn and scarlet leaves swirled upon currents of chilly air, coating lawns and paths in a blanket of faded color. Your breath misted before your plump lips in the dropping temperatures. As if sensing your discomfort, the babe within shifted and stretched, seeking warmth.

"It grows dark, and this cold will not do for anyone in my state," You looked at Shiva with a soft smile. “Walk with me back inside, brother? I believe a nice cup of hot tea by the fire is in order.”

The Liyuean emperor glanced down with a concerned frown, noticing the loss of color on your lips. Gently, Shiva opened his powerful palms to receive your smaller fingers upon his forearms. Even through the fabric, you could feel the waves of his inner furnace warming your skin.

“Fragile as a newborn bird.” He grumbled, though care dwelt in his stern gaze.

Leaning upon his sturdy frame, the two of you began the slow walk back to comforts within. The sunlight was getting dimmer. As shadows engulfed the gardens, the wind howled more fiercely through emerging tree branches, abandoning its playful mood. You bury your nose into your upturned collar, breathing in its lingering scent of sandalwood and spice. Despite all of that, Shiva still makes sure that his steps are not so wide that you struggle to match his. Slow and careful is better.

"Watch your step. Lean upon me if you're worried—it's better than the chance of a stumble or fall.”

Your heart swells at his fussy care, unsurprised though deeply touched. Fierce emperor he is, yet where family is, lies the same tender heart of your childhood, still beating sure and strong. This was far from new—from your earliest memories, it was Shiva who swept you into strong arms when storms raged, telling tales until even lightning's flash seemed like a play.

Little Shiva often gets reprimanded for "teaching" his sister to climb the ancient pine tree to retrieve his favorite celestial crab toy that got stuck high in the branches. Naughty girl climbs like a little monkey, but then too scared to come down. Big brother Shiva climbs up to save you, and you both end up having ears pulled by the caretaker Gong Gong for damaging boughs older than even their venerable dynasty.

The final step up the steps of the main palace is taken and closes your long journey to reach here. Home at last. You sigh contentedly, rubbing your belly where a new life stirred. Gazing up at the towering figure who has guided you since birth, you feel a surge of gratitude and safety wrap around you like a cashmere shawl.

Rain began to pelt the earth outside the window. A faint, untamed wind entered through the open door and caused the fire to dance before it was shut.

No matter what storms life sent your way, you knew without a doubt that your steadfast brother would always stand like a great pine, sheltering you under the boughs of his protection. Some things, it seemed, did not change even with time's passage. As you are led to refresh yourself by the fire, you send up a silent prayer of thanks for the brother who was, and always will be, your greatest protector under heaven.

It was raining outside.

Being a Snezhnayan-born, he was unaffected by snowstorms even. He recalled boyhood winters where ice-cold feet covered in white had become a habit, and hypothermia had repeatedly passed by his mother's reprimands because little Ajax had played outside for too long. He often said the cold didn't bother him, and the Queen at that time responded with another string of stern lectures about mortal limits. "You may have thick skin and tough bones, but no man can contest with nature in her fury," she always said.

It was raining outside.

As the council droned on around discussions of trade routes and border disputes, the Emperor's focus wavered again to the pounding rain. Some part of him will always find solace in storms' primal rhythms, recalling simpler days playing in the palace white gardens.

But now another occupied his thoughts, and this autumn downpour no longer held nostalgia—just a chill that he knew she wasn't bred to withstand. His wife, you, the Empress, possessed a Liyuean's preference for temperate climates and was not so adapted to cold and damp. Frown found him easily. And with child too now, each storm brought new cause for concern.

Childe wonders what you're doing as the heavens open their floodgates. Resting as suggested, tucked cozily by the fire under layers of blankets? Or do you insist on wandering, eagle-eyed handmaidens fretting while you trailed damp slippers through resplendent halls? Childe knows how stubborn you are, and he also knows your ladies-in-waiting have laid down life itself if harm threatens their empress or babe. Still, he is unable to subdue his inclinations.

Perhaps a visit was in order.

As the discussion continued, Childe glanced at his confidant, Dmitri. The young, diligent, man lends a keen ear to the proceedings, a pen scratching next to a pile of notebook paper.

Childe knew that if he was suggested to leave the council meeting to see his empress, he would be met with disgruntlement from him. Dmitri took his duties as confidant seriously, and interrupting state affairs for personal reasons went against propriety. Sure enough, he could already hear a series of protests. “Your Majesty, the generals are presenting vital information. This is not the time for idle social calls.” Or perhaps, “The Empress will understand your devotion to duty, sire. Go to her when business is concluded.”

But Dmitri's words would fall on deaf ears as always, anyway. If it came to you, Childe was ruled by heart far more than head. And his heart now beats in worry for your comfort in this unruly weather. So, let Dmitri shout until he was hoarse. Your smile is worth any scolding. And the baby… oh, how he longed to feel those tiny kicks against his big palms.

Just as General Gorin slowly rose to present his next point, Childe waved his hand and smoothly cut in. “Gentlemen, I am grateful for all the insights that have been shared so far. However, more pressing matters now demanded my attention. Let's end today's meeting and continue planning tomorrow.”

Surprised murmurs filled the room as the Emperor rose, meeting already ended without warning. Dmitri shot Childe a pointed look asking clearer than words – “Pressing matters, Your Majesty? What matters could possibly arise now?” He asked full of confusion, but a suspicion and guess was hidden underneath.

Childe merely flashed his confidant a guileless smile and shrugged without a care. “Family matters. You understand this.”

Oh, Dmitri understands it all too well. The confidant has long been accustomed to his emperor's whims wherever it concerns his empress. How he understood the depth of Childe's devotion to you.

Like that inspection of new naval defenses, where one of your ladies-in-waiting's arrival brings news of your headache turning Childe on his heel, meeting forgotten. General Gorin’s rage at disrupted schedules took moons to subside.

Or that time, yet another council meeting was thrown into disarray by Childe's protectiveness of you. The advisers had gathered to discuss border security when suddenly, the Emperor shot up from his seat said an urgent matter had arisen, and they should continue the discussion among themselves. Sure enough, they soon learned the “urgent matter” was that you insisted on taking a walk around the garden that afternoon. One of your maidens had come to notify Childe, worried you might tire yourself from the early stages of your pregnancy.

Not that Childe neglected his duties—somehow he always resolved imperial affairs with his usual flare, despite his distracted heart. But propriety and practicality demand that protocols be adhered to! What if an urgent vote is needed, or a treaty is signed, in his hasty absence? He understood, truly understood his emperor's loyalty to the family. But, as a confidant, it grew tiresome to have to have strategic discussions interrupted at vital moments just because the Emperor “just wanted to check on her.”

With a tired sigh, Dmitri forced himself to speed up his pace to match Childe's determined strides through the palace halls. “There is one other matter requiring your attention, Your Majesty.”

Childe threw him a sideways glance, blue eyes sharpening. “Out with it, Dmitri.” He demanded.

“Emperor Shiva of Liyue is presently within the palace walls,” Dmitri stated.

The Emperor halted abruptly, whipping to face his advisor with eyes like a blade drawn. “And you didn't tell me sooner, Boyar?”

Dmitri bowed in contrition. “Forgive me, Your Majesty. I just received word upon leaving the council chambers. It seems that the Liyue ruler came unannounced, desiring an audience solely with Her Majesty the Empress.”

Childe’s scowl spoke volumes on his fraught relationship with your overprotective brother. While necessity forged an alliance, personal warmth was lacking between the proud rulers. Shiva saw himself your guardian first, diplomacy second. And the prospect of his beloved sister bearing children for an “outsider” emperor did little to endear. Many cold stares had passed between the men in your presence.

The young emperor resumed his long strides, lips pursed in a hard line. “Where is he now?”

His confidant hastened to keep up. “From words of the guards, the Empress welcomed her brother into the Emerald Palace gardens. But seeing storm clouds gather, they retired to Her Majesty's private drawing room for tea indoors." Dmitri answered.

The scowls on his handsome face deepened. Childe made long, purposeful strides down the gleaming palace halls, cape billowing behind him like the stormclouds overhead. Servants scattered from his frigid aura, wise people try to avoid his presence. Dmitri behind him followed hurriedly, trying to catch air with ragged breaths.

Poor young man. The more they approached the chamber, the more Dmitri's mind raced frenziedly considering all potential scenarios and consequences. While his Emperor maintained cordial smiles in public, that gleaming blade swung beneath could destroy the unwise. He knew well Childe's mercurial nature—charming one moment, savage the next if challenged. Combined with Shiva's openly imperious streak, this encounter has disaster written in its stars.

By the time the duo reached the chamber doors, sweat dripped down Dmitri's pale face. Taking a moment to compose himself, he sent up a fervent prayer to any deity listening.

All his diplomatic prowess seemed like tattered silk amidst the hurricane that was about to collide in the drawing room. Only one held the power to steer these storms to calmer waters—Her Majesty Empress (Y/N). Time and again, Dmitri has seen you easily maneuver the most stubborn of men to your will, employing but a look or word. If fortune is on his side, perhaps your radiant presence has calmed their ruffled quills within.

The guards straightened as Childe's purposeful steps stopped right in front of the towering door. With a practiced announcement, the first cried:

“Announcing the arrival of His Majesty, Childe, Sovereign Emperor of Snezhnaya!”

Instantly, the heavy portals swung inward under the straining muscles, hinges moving as smoothly as the tides. Inside, soft lamplight bathes a tapestry scene of tranquility. Marble floors gleamed ahead, inviting new visitors into the drawing room.

From the presence of two new people, you looked up from your tea. "Ajax, you've come!" Your beautiful face lit up with joy upon seeing Childe enter.

Your beaming smile helped ease tension from Childe's rigid frame. Walking over, he went to your side and took your hand in his. “Wife,” he greeted, smiling lips placing a kiss on your knuckles. You truly are his sun, chasing away all the shadows in his soul and decorating his heart with gold carvings.

Ah, right.

Although resentment still simmered within at Shiva's unwelcome visit, Childe knew very well the game had to be played. So, with considered effort, he molded his expression into a faux friendliness. The smile rings the bells of falsity to those closely observing, but to the untrained eye, it may pass.

Turning to Shiva, Childe addressed him in smooth tones, “Brother,” he said, feeling like cutting off his own tongue. “It's been too long.”

Shiva's return greeting comes short with an absence of warmth. Leveling Childe with an unwavering stare, he replied, “Indeed. Though some absences feel shorter than others.”

A hint of irritation flashed across Childe's features at Shiva's sly jab. But, years of training to become Snezhnaya's future successor had schooled his temper. A mirthless chuckle rose from his throat as he replied.

“Brother, ever the lapdog snapping at anything that moves without caring for the mess left behind. Is solitude wearing on you? No wonder you ache for stimulation.”

Shiva’s eyes flashed at the provocation. “Careful little wolf, your words reveal more about yourself than I,” he retorted coolly. “At least I don’t go snarling rabidly at any who threaten my fleas. Liyue has prospered without incident under my watch. Can the same be said for your frozen wasteland?”

Childe's faux-smile vanished, the mask evaporates revealing the devil beneath. “Snezhnaya has thrived despite constant meddling from supposed ‘allies.’ Perhaps if certain neighbors attended their own affairs instead of sniffing mine, they'd find less cause for petty complaints.” He gritted his teeth.

Shiva scoffed. “It must sting that even your neighbors consider you an annoyance.”

As the emperors' argument grew more heated, your expression changed from beaming joy to stern annoyance.

“Enough, both of you.” Your voice rang clearly, cutting through the tension and instantly capturing their attention. Those beautiful eyes, usually warm as spring sun, now glinted cool. “Honestly, I expected more maturity from my husband and brother. If you have problems remaining civil, remove yourselves from my presence.”

At your sharp words, both Childe and Shiva looked abashed, like puppies being scolded from tearing pillows, tails wagging between their legs. You had united two nations through their marriage where once only hostility stood; yet now the proud rulers of two empires are quarreling in what should be a quiet evening full of warm tea and fires. With a weary sigh, you massage your temples as if you were physically hurt by their foolishness.

You see Shiva about to open his mouth to deliver another biting retort—always wanting to have the last word—but, with a sharp stare, his jaw closes again.

"Say another word and you will regret it." you are warned in a low tone laced with threats.

With a lovely smile on his lips, Childe turned to you, hoping to win you over to his side. “Angel,” he purred, brushing a tender kiss to your knuckles—Shiva wanted to spill his guts at the sight. “You know how your brother enjoys provoking me. I meant no disrespect.”

Shiva scoffed but dared not test his luck with your anger still on him. Childe ignored the sound, focusing completely on appeasing his wife.

You narrowed your eyes. "You're not completely innocent in this, Ajax." You reminded him.

“But, love—”

Childe was interrupted when you raised your index finger to shush him. "And I've thought about it for a while," you say, pausing to get both men's attention with your poignant tone. “We'll use the duration of Shiva's stay here as time for you to reconnect without titles between you. As family, not rulers. Which is why you and Shiva will accompany me on my trip to Zelenossosh.”

Immediate protests erupted from both men.

“Spend leisure with him?” Childe grunted, jerking a thumb at Shiva. “You ask too much, love.”

Shiva sneered. “As if I wanted some time alone with the mongrel Emperor and his ilk.”

“Gentlemen, peace, please. And I've decided," you said firmly. “This trip is not optional. We will leave in three days, and you will spend the entire time there bonding over the activities of my choosing. No politics or policies are allowed to be discussed.”

“But sister! This is—”

“(Y/N), anything but—”

A dramatic gasp came out of you, surprising both of them. “Oh my, is it that time already?” You mused, stretching your muscles gracefully, pretending to be tired of your duties. “Ajax, Shiva, please excuse me as I retire for my evening bath. My handmaidens, help an exhausted Empress to her chambers, if you please.”

Your two handmaidens appear, hurry to aid you in your “weariness.” But, the twinkling eyes said otherwise as you smiled over your shoulder.

“Try to get along without me, won't you, Your Majesties?” you said in faux-innocence.

With barely veiled amusement, you watch them tense up at the prospect of forced solo interactions. Chuckling softly to yourself, you walk out with a satisfied smile, escorted by your lovely ladies-in-waiting.

The atmosphere in the room grew thick like sour milk after your absence lifted the veil of politeness. The two men managed to maintain the first ten seconds in silence, avoiding each other's gaze like tomcats dropped in a sack together. Jaws locked. Teeth were gritted and the last bit of patience was running out.

Shiva sat tensely, fingers clenched, creating crescent prints in his palms as he glared daggers at Childe from the corners of his eyes. "This is your doing, Wolf."

Childe snorted, delicate eyebrow arched. “My doing? Tell me, how so.” He met his gaze.

“You intend to poison my sister's mind against me with your honeyed lies,” Shiva hissed.

An ugly sneer curled Childe’s lip. “The only poison here is your constant meddling in affairs that don’t concern you. If you hadn’t come nosing around Snezhnaya again—”

“Nosing around?” Shiva bellowed, face turning purple. “You got my sister pregnant without my permission! How dare you impregnate her without my blessing. What if something had gone wrong, huh? It’s all your fault!”

Childe gritted his teeth, growing frustrated with Shiva's overprotective attitude. “She is my wife, not some decorative pet you own. And do I need to remind you that children are a normal part of marriage, or is it not like that where you come from?”

“Don't twist this to your advantage, wolf,” Shiva stood up from his chair, pointing a slanderous finger at Childe. “I see your game—you made her so early with child to tie her to you forever, admit it!”

Those dull blue eyes gleamed with fury directly above a grin. "Ha! Is this what your deranged mind contemplates consistently?" He crossed his arms and reclined on the couch as his gaze trained on Shiva's emotional turmoil.

“You think to use her body for your ambitions of an heir!”

Breaking through the restraint he possessed, the ginger-haired man swiftly rose to his feet and prowled towards the Liyue Emperor. Though nearly equal in height and build, his explosive temper made him seem to tower over Shiva in that moment. A cruel, wrathful smile twisted his lips as blue orbs darkened with barely contained fury.

“Say that to my face again,” Childe dared in a deadly quiet tone. “It would be my honor to educate that foul tongue of yours once and for all.”

Shiva met his furious gaze, steady as stone. “Withdraw your implication or face the consequences, dog.”

A loud scoff came out of Childe, his famed patience was dragged wildly and almost completely evaporated. Fists clenched tightly, knuckles bleached, straining with the effort to resist lashing out—he knew it would only benefit Shiva, that the Liyue dog would use it as an opportunity to take your sympathy to his side. But every pore and disciplined muscle screams for release, to put this peacock in its place through whatever it takes.

“I've wanted nothing more than to rearrange that handsome face of yours since we met,” Childe threatened, cracking his knuckles with malicious intent.

To his surprise, Shiva threw back his head and laughed—a deep, ironic chuckle. The Liyuean bent over to select a dessert fork laid out on the table. Twirling the utensil dexterously between his long fingers, Shiva straightened his back and shot Childe a look from under lowered lashes.

“Is that so? Well, you’re not entirely wrong—I am rather easy on the eyes.”

“You really want to do this, don't you?” Childe's query didn't seek confirmation, rather, it served as a last warning before he enacted his plan to "resculpt" that stunning jaw into something no better than the monument commemorating the demise of the last Duke of Krykiye, a statue that ultimately ceased to exist due to being considered government treason.

Shiva flashed a shark's smile, dessert fork now hidden in his fist. “Then come – take your best shot, little Emperor. Let's see if your skills live up to that big mouth of yours."

The sly words were the final shards to break Childe's crumbling restraint. Damn it! To damnation with patience and consequences! He vowed, in the name of his late father, to pummel Shiva's appearance, rearranging it until it remained unrecognizable to the point where he could never return to Liyue and rule the empire again. The ideal circumstance is that he would be deported and branded as an impostor claiming to be the Liyue emperor who had “abruptly” disappeared after traveling to Snezhnaya. Go to hell with it all. With a wordless snarl, he lunged, fists flying—

“Sir Dmitri arrived just in time, it seems. His Majesty and Emperor Shiva appeared quite.. animated in their exchange.”

From the news delivered by Sasha, you opened your eyes and raised an eyebrow, not completely surprised. Laura's efforts in lifting your burden all day with her slender fingers massaging your temples and head are wasted on the confirmation of Childe and Shiva returning to their squabbles almost immediately after you departed from their presence. The bathing chambers are luxuriously designed to soothe tired muscles. Floating flower petals in warm water soaking your naked body does little to ease your stress.

"Was anybody hurt?"

You look at Sasha and receive a shake of the head. "Fortunately," you are informed, "Sir Dmitri is quite skilled in managing those types of situations. The two have retired to their personal quarters."

You sigh. “Those foolish men. Put them in one room and watch the entire house burn down.” You said.

Sasha nodded in agreement. “Men will be men, I'm told.”

You relaxed into the pillowy embrace of bubbles, warm water soaking your shoulders, while Laura rinsed the last of the shampoo from your long hair. With a gentle hand, you begin stroking your swollen belly, silently musing at the child growing inside.

“Please don't take after your father and uncle, little one,” you said wryly. “I pray you inherit my calm rather than their hot tempers and their thirst for contention and chaos.”

Countess Sasha chuckled softly at your candid words. “Fate itself knows what traits Snezhnaya's successor will claim. We can only hope that their generosity and diplomacy will outweigh their recklessness.” She spoke, and the ladies shared a grin.

Maybe it's time for you to journey to a temple and make an offering that your pleas would be accepted by the gods. If, by some stroke of luck, your child inherited Childe's free-spirited and spontaneous nature, you were practically certain your hair would turn white within a single night's rest. The capital would be unable to withstand the chaos, and Snezhnaya's enemies would be thrown into confusion by the fall of the empire in a short time—sealing their years of fantasizing about its downfall.

Just then, Ksenia entered the bath chamber and rushed to your side carefully. “Your Majesty, the Emperor requests an audience.” She spoke softly as she knelt beside your bathub.

You raised an eyebrow, sharing an amused glance with Sasha. “Speak of the devil..” You mumbled, then sighed. “Fine, let him in.”

Soon, Childe was swept into the bathroom, still dressed in his royal clothes. His face softened at the sight of you, but then he frowned in confusion at the others. "Why are they all in here?" he asked.

"They kept me good company, unlike certain emperors who desired to declare war every time they met."

Childe huffed. “It wasn't entirely my doing—Shiva provoked me, you know that. If it weren't for my wisdom, we would've come to blows.” He tried to reason.

You raised a skeptical brow. "I was under the impression that Dmitri was the one who intervened and separated you two?"

“Through Dmitri, yes – but his position comes from my leadership. Therefore, the credit is mine.”

A fond yet tired sigh escaped your lips. Truly, managing this Emperor and all the nonsensical things he does is a feat in itself. When others only see him as nothing more than his pretty surface, you take the time to discern what's bothering him underneath, allowing your steady voice to help guide him to calmer ports. His charisma and strategic mind have garnered a lot of respect; but beneath, his soul still yearns for adventure on the battlefield where he excels. It stirs wild impulses that defeat calmer and rational thinking in heated moments.

But you see, Childe was trying to grow out of his old self to become a better emperor for the empire. Where violence was once his first tongue, patience and diplomacy now speak louder through his efforts. He'll continue abandoning rashness like battered armor outgrown, and you'll be there every step of the way.

“You know how he plucks my strings, angel.”

As Childe spoke those words to you, his hand rose to his collar. Slowly, deliberately, he began to unbutton his royal shirts one by one. He eases the heavy fabric from his broad shoulders in a single, practiced motion, revealing his numerous scars—a history that is reluctant to be forgotten on his skin. And he was beautiful precisely because he was battle-tested yet unbroken.

Your ladies-in-waiting took the cue to discreetly gather towels and depart with flushed smiles. Childe unbuckled and threw the belt behind him without a care. He approached you, and your gaze roamed over your husband's nearly naked body in awe. The skin is smooth and light, muscles defined yet free of excess bulk. Years of combat had honed his physique to its peak.

The chiseled 'V' leads down from his waist to where his trousers clung low on his hips. Blocks like smoothed stone make a square on the stomach, not overly large but firm under the touch. You remember fond nights tracing their lines with fingers or lips, feeling them contract at your actions.

"But for you both, my love, I will try to keep a calm head."

With feline grace, Childe stepped into the bath, causing the waters to surge. You smiled and shifted forward invitingly to give him room. He settled behind you, long legs flanking your form, and circling your swollen middle with strong yet gentle arms. The warmth is placed on your exposed shoulder as he kisses it affectionately. You lean back with a sigh, nestling your damp hair against his collarbone. He kissed your temple, one large hand spread protectively over the unborn babe within.

“Don't worry, your promise will be put to the test when the three of us leave for Zelenossosh later.” You said and Childe let out an exaggerated groan and buried his face in the crook of your neck, eliciting a soft laugh from you.

Within three days, the three of you will head for Zelenossosh. A rational individual would say that it would be unwise to proceed with this plan - Childe is a troublemaker, and pairing him with Shiva's fiery temper is a risky undertaking. Even if you decide to travel to Zelenossosh, a location known for its tranquil appearance, composed of pretty hills and beaches, it will probably turn into another loud argument – just with a prettier backdrop this time!

Only time will tell what the fate of their traveling party will be, and you can only pray that it will end with more joy than murder.

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nukedimplosion · 8 months

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Why I believe Spade King will be redeemed

The Spade King is a... controversial character to say the least. From what I've seen, opinions of him range from a complete monster to an abusive douche with little leeway.

So, making a post about how this villain will be redeemed in future chapters may seem like a slap in the face. Let it be known that none of this is to upset real survivors of abuse, but instead it is to highlight the many indicators I feel show that Spade King is not beyond redemption.

I personally have had this theory since around when chapter 2 came out, and time has only solidified it, but this is the first time I actually got the confidence to post it.

That being said, let's get into the evidence.

THE FOUNTAIN

In the 6th anniversary stream for Undertale, Fangamer played through an edited version of Deltarune with Toby Fox making comments about development, the characters etc.

When facing the Spade King, Fangamer talked about how they hoped Spade King had been a good dad 'before the other mouth grew in'.

Toby Fox then says this;

'I mean, I think that fountain definitely changed his behaviour. For sure.'

This quote is stated around the 3 hour mark of the livestream video below.

So what does this mean? You may want to argue that Toby was not be literal when he made this statement, and that the fountain was a simple temptation instead of something that directly effected his behaviour. But then there's the queen...

The queen seems to have also experienced this fountain brought phenomena despite only wanting to use it to serve the Lightners instead of oppose.

She threatens and attempts to kill the Lightners. She establishes a regime significantly more strict then the last. She won't stop going on about the Knight. These are all things the King does as well.

It seems that the fountain abstracts the behaviour of their respective rulers for the sake of the Knight.

Okay, so the fountain impacts the King's behaviour, great. Doesn't change the fact that he threatened his son, and refuses to apologise or acknowledge his wrong doing now the fountain is closed.

Well, that leads me onto the next part...

HIS SON

Let's immediately establish one thing; the Chaos King does care for his son. While how genuine that care is is debated by the fandom, I would like to make the case that he was a good dad and does want Lancer to be happy.

First of all is the quote about the fountain that Toby made in the anniversary stream, which was a reply to a comment about how Fangamer hoped that he was a good dad.

Replying then seems to indicate that the fountain did impact his ability to be a good father.

More importantly is his dialogue in jail.

Here, he asked directly if his son is happy, in hesitant, even reserved manner. This is in direct contrast to how he mocks the Lightners with his boisterous grin or cruel frown.

Remember when he was yelling that he'll 'KILL ALL OF YOU' while his subjects dragged him away? An insurrection led by his son, who he called a traitor? Despite this, he seems to hold no ill will towards his son or his fellow darkners (we'll get to that). This behaviour I believe was caused by the fountain, thus the attitude change.

And yes, I do acknowledge that he has lied for sympathy before (his act before Ralsei healed him in chapter 1), but this is different. There is no reason to lie at this point; there's no way they would believe him.

He also admits that if he HAD let his son go, Lancer would have just... bounced. He then calls his son a bouncy little pumpkin. This line is notably similar to a line right after Susie casts pacify on him, calling her a 'sweet little pumpkin', again hinting that he was a good dad before the fountain and his love towards Lancer isn't a lie.

'But' you may argue, 'Lancer was afraid! He knew his son was scared of him but kept threatening anyways!'

Which is a valid point, and is obviously horrible.

BUT combined with the fountain being an impact for his decisions, I think it is also a valid idea that there's more to it than 'The Spade King is abusive'.

Both the Queen and King are callous when it comes to the opinion and wellbeing of others. Queen spends the entirety of Chapter 2 attempting to force Noelle to do as she says, even threatening to kill her classmates (and crush) for the sake of her goal.

What King does is similar, making Lancer watch as his friends get killed because he didn't do as he said. It's cruel, yes, but this is another case where you can argue the fountain may have led to this mutual behaviour.

(You may argue that the Queen has the excuse of being a computer who isn't completely in tune with peoples emotions. This argument doesn't really make sense because she actively uses Noelle's emotions against her in a way that shows she understands how upset it makes her.)

I do believe that Spade King knew his son was upset and still went along with it. This post isn't some elongated argument for Spade King's sainthood.

But I do have to say, him being aware and still going along with it may explain why he's hesitant to talk about Lancer in his jail cell. He knows he messed up and is feeling guilty post-fountain, he's just too prideful to up and say it to the face of the enemy. What he did is not a show of Spade King's abusive inhernet nature but an example of the fountain clouding his full judgement at that moment.

Also, you may argue that Spade King was neglectful of his son, leaving him to Rouxls Kaard to be cared for. I do believe that there has been a bit of exaggeration on this point. Yes, he does put his son in the care of his employees perhaps more than he should, but he's also straight up a King. He's a busy guy.

'Oh, but he doesn't feed him, the poor boy is starving!'

Honestly, my big question is why he's cooking in the first place. He's a King, he has subjects literally fanning his son and he can't afford one chef? It seems like this is more a downtime thing he does with his son for the sake of family bonding (may explain where the food based nickname of 'sweet little pumpkin' came from) and he knows his son will be fed by his employees when he's busy.

Again, too dependent, but I don't see any signs of such an intense neglect to call him a bad dad.

Of course, this is more in the assumption category. It is possible the neglect is more active and that the King is just a douche, but I feel that we are being purposely mislead here.

Now, onto the final point.

HIS SUBJECTS

Let's talk about why Spade King did what he did.

Spade King hates Lightners, that much is obvious. He calls them scum, says that 'their existence goes against our own' and feels absolutely no guilt towards trying to kill them post-fountain.

Which isn't really not justified. Darkners were made to keep Lightners happy, only to be abandoned by them. The Chaos King has to watch as the kingdom, HIS kingdom, rotted without meaning. He had to raise his son with the understanding that he would never be 'truely happy' because the so called only source of happiness for Darkners left them to the wayside.

So, when the Knight came, is it really that surprising he would try to create a 'new purpose' as he said? Yes, perhaps world domination is a bit insane (maybe he's dramatic like that, maybe it was the fountain, he does hate Lightners so it's likely both) but the core of his ideals, that darkners can be something beyond what they are to Lightners is not only justified but correct.

In the scene where the gang are walking to the castle in Chapter 1, Lancer acknowledges how happy he is to be here, feeling like he's doing 'something important'. Ralsei replies that this is because he is serving the Lightners and that is the purpose of the Darkners.

Susie is notably uncomfortable, and dismisses Ralsei's point as 'weird purpose' talk and simply says that Lancer is just happy because he ate a weird berry. This is the first sign that the plot beat of Darkners only gaining happiness from Lightners is not just going to be an accepted status quo by the main cast and that there is likely to be more contention about the subject in the future.

(I would also like to mention that Ralsei in this scene asks if the Spade King is happy, in which Lancer very hesitantly says he's not sure.)

Then, in chapter 2, Ralsei is shown to be confused about friendship. He starts to understand that friendship is more than just being nice all the time and that he should be more 'Ralsei-like', meaning more like himself.

The problem is that he doesn't know what that is. He's spent all this time forming himself into the perfect companion but he doesn't know how to be himself. This is a result of his purpose, his wish to be the perfect Darkner for his friends. Now, his purpose seems more cloudy. Should he continue being the perfect little angel for his friends or should he become someone who is more genuine on their own terms, like what his friends seem to want?

While Ralsei is still doing everything he can for the Lighteners, he is slowly becoming his own individual, which is what the King wanted for all Darkners.

Then there's the general themes of control. Be it Kris, the secret bosses or the Spade King, all of these people wish to be more than the binds that control them. While the Spade King is acting on behalf of the Knight, he does so to free his people from the influence of the Lightners, to make purpose on their own terms and be their own people.

Just like how Kris wishes to be free from, you, the player, also making their own purpose and be their own person. May I remind you that the Darkners are media and toys, fun things meant to be enjoyed. They are in universe equivalents of video game characters, made to entertain Lightners, just like Kris, Ralsei and Susie are made to entertain us. The only difference is that the latter is closer to the forth wall.

So yes, while his world domination thing was wack, I believe the Spade King is righteous in his core values.

So why doesn't any other character seem to agree?

Ralsei completely believes that Darkners can only gain happiness from Lightners, Queen does everything she does for the sake of Lightners, hell, the town that the Darkners live in isn't named after the Prince or anything but you, a Lightner. They even call you boss!

At this point, the only character who cares for Darkners having a purpose outside of Lightners is locked in a jail cell.

Now, it is possible that Toby Fox introduces another character who has Spade King's beliefs but is less nasty about it, but that's lame. It's also possible that Ralsei has an epiphany and realise that Darkners deserve better and that becomes the result of his arc. Better, and I can see him going in that direction, but I still think it's less satisfactory.

In any route in which you don't get all recruits, the King is the only person who acknowledges this and is actively upset about it. Even the Queen is hesitant yet still ultimately okay with leaving her subjects behind because the Lightners are onboard.

The goofy cutscene where he asks for cashews? Gone. He simply remarks on how you left them behind like Lightners left the Card Kingdom darkners behind and tells you to 'Begone'. The first line is said with a smile, knowing that he's been proven right but after that, the smile leaves and he's just... cold. He seems genuinely upset about what happened to the Darkners you left behind, portrayed with a '...' in his second line and the loss of his smile. He is not trying to trick you, you simply disgust him at this point. He cares for Darkners in a way that no character has shown yet (aside from Nubert (the goat))

This is why the title of this post is why Spade King is GOING to be redeemed and not me saying he SHOULD be. The difference in levity between an interaction with the Spade King post full recruits and not full recruits indicates that by getting recruits, the King is more willing to acknowledge you and, perhaps with time, your points and intentions. If Spade King was supposed to be this abusive bastard, having characters such as the Queen be on positive terms with him seems strange. You can argue nuance all you want, but the Queen, a character who we're supposed to like, being friends with a character we're supposed to end up hating seems like a strange writing decision no matter how you slice it. Especially if he's a straight up child abuser.

(yes I know she might not know but are you really expecting an epic drama where Queen finds out he's an abusive scumbag and calls him out? Having a morally positive character be friends with an abuser can work but in this situation, it is objectively a weird choice and I will argue on that)

He asks for cashews in this chapter and suckles out a giant hamster water container. Maybe the second serves to make him look pathetic, but then the Queen apparently has the same thing but bigger. The cashew bit is played off as endearing more then anything.

This is all because you got those recruits. Without them, he doesn't even talk to you. Therefore, it can be concluded that Spade King does have a chance. After all, if all of him was completely against you and believed you would be bound to abandon them, he would not be talking to you in any route. It's only when you prove it directly that he stops.

Toby Fox uses the recruit dialogue to endear you to him, which I presume is to set up a redemption if you continue to go down the recruit everyone path. By proving him wrong in future chapters, I presume he will talk more about himself and his ideals and perhaps listen to the Fun Gang and his son in turn.

CONCLUSION

My prediction is that over the course of the chapters, players will see more and more endearing aspects of the Chaos King, with things such as his theoretical neglect and love for Lancer being properly clarified and elaborated on, but only if you keep all recruits. He will still be sceptical, perhaps even leading to him going against you when the Knight returns, but he will ultimately fight by your side if you have successfully convinced him through your treatment of the Darkners that Lightners aren't bad after all.

Hopefully by the ending point, Ralsei would have had enough of an extential crisis to hear the Spade King out on his whole 'Darkners deserve to be happy without the Lightners' deal. Susie would absolutely be on board with her friends finding happiness without needing Lightners (I can see her arguing with Ralsei about it in a future chapter).

I can see him sacrificing himself, but I don't want Lancer to deal with that.

The final point I would like to mention is his place in the narrative. A lot of people have argued that all he is meant to be in an objective evil to prove that Ralsei was wrong about fighting never being the answer and that a redemption would ruin that, and yes, that is his role is chapter 1.

But if that was his only purpose, bringing him back as the only person to actively acknowledge the consequences of your lack of recruits seems pointless. Giving him moments of endearment and clarifying he loves his son is unnecessary. You, again, can argue it's for the sake of nuance but I think at this point I have clarified that there is a lot more to it than that.

Besides, what would be more satisfying to see than the most stubborn character of your journey, the only one you could not convince in the chapter he appeared in, joining your side as a result of you sparing every darkner you can?

In a game with only one ending, making routes like full mercy seem worth it is kind of important if you want players to bother caring about those mechanics. The few dialogue changes we do get really don't cut it.

But witnessing the development of a character who you started off hating but then becomes your ally due to your decisions and comes to help you in your darkest hour?

That would be worth it.

---

Thanks for reading this theory! It's been a while since I've written a theory like that. Do say your opinions, I know this is a desisive topic but I am still happy to hear people's perspectives!

#deltarune #spade king #chaos king #deltarune theory #deltarune analysis #deltarune chapter 2

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theyanderespecialist · 6 months

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Base Yandere Rosie Headcanons: Words Are Cheap, Soul Contracts Are Forever

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins! I am back with a new chapter! Rosie is the one in this chapter! So let's do this! Enjoy this!]

(Disclaimer: Rosie is not yandere in canon this is just for fun and not to be taken seriously at all Simping for fictional characters and yanderes is fine just do not be illegal or gross about it! Yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life! Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon!

Disclaimer 2: Eating other people or being a demon that eats other demons is not okay, all the reference to the consumption of others is FICTION. No Demons or Humans were eaten. Rosie is a fictional character that eats demons and yes, when I make this into a video audio record I will do my best to censor.)

-Base Yandere Headcanons: With Rosie From Hazbin Hotel!-

.Rosie is an elegant woman.

.She fell for you right away, you were just someone that she could not and would not live without.

.She is also a lover of the old-timey stuff, such as music, clothing, and the whole aesthetic of the early 20th century

.So you can be sure regardless of your gender identity she will make your clothes to blend in with her in a cannibal town.

.She is a strong and powerful woman with such grace and elegance.

.She is not someone to mess with though, as she has been an overlord for longer than Alastor most likely.

.She loves you so much, but she is going to have you live a similar lifestyle.

.She is very open about her cannibalism and such that she would not mind offering you various limbs to eat.

.She though will realize if you are not into that and instead starts to cook the meat in it to hide the the cannibal part. She will get you used to eating demons in no time!

.She is a very loving and affectionate yandere and adores taking care of you. Very mommy energy.

.She tells you words are cheap and what matters is actions, so she will show you just how much she loves you, cause words are cheap and she needs to show you just how much she loves you.

.She also is a no-nonsense woman.

.At least when it comes to rivals, most rivals end up being killed and turned into a yummy meal for her to give you.

.They wanted to give you their heart, well you can eat their hearts as a lovely roast. (Hannibal Lector style)

.She would love to make romantic dinners with you, and to have them by candlelight~

.She is very forward with her intentions towards you and her love for you, she will make her desires very clear to you.

.If someone were to hurt you they would not just be killed but have a long and terrible torture done to them so they will suffer and know what they did wrong and regret it.

.She is a strong leader and the cannibal town follows her command.

.So if you were to try and run from her, you would be dragged back.

.She is going to get you in cannibal town and once you are there you will never ever be allowed to escape.

.She would of course also get you to sign a marriage soul contract.

.Like I said she shows her love with actions and not just words.

.So she will get you to be her spouse you will be her co-ruler of cannibal town and you two will live happily ever after.

.If you do not sign the contract? well, then she got to break your spirit.

.She did not want to do this, it was something she never ever wanted to do to you, but you forced her hand and she is an overlord, she has to put you in your place.

.Once she has broken you she will have you sign the contract and then she will build you back up.

.She takes care of the things that are hers after all~

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS Even though I had a mental breakdown the other day I finally got the draft done! I hope you all enjoyed this, and stay sexy, all of my sexy muffins!]

#yandere #yandere rosie #yandere hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel rosie #hazbin hotel #hazbin rosie #rosie x reader #rosie #reader #gender neutral reader

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kittenfangirl20 · 3 months

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*Yeshua approaches Cain*

Cain: Is there something you needed.

*Yeshua looked a little nervous*

Yeshua: I know that your job as an assassin here has developed your tracking skills, I was hoping you could help me find someone.

Cain: I didn’t think you would know someone in Hell since you were the Son of God, Prince of Heaven, and the co ruler of Heaven.

Yeshua: I am sure you have heard of how I was crucified.

Cain: I forgot you were betrayed by one of your followers.

Yeshua: Yes, Judas, I want him to be a resident of the hotel so he can be redeemed too.

Cain: I’ll see what I can do.

*after a couple days of searching, Cain found who he was looking for, Judas was at a bar, Judas had olive toned skin, but his eyes were silver with red sclera, he had short spiky hair that he dyed bright red as joke about the fact that artists in the Middle Ages painted him with red hair for some reason, he wore a tank top, black leather pants, and a black leather jacket, his Sinner features were green dragon horns and green dragon wings to represent greed, imbedded in his neck like a choker were the 30 pieces of silver*

Judas: Well if it isn’t Cain the Nomad, who did I piss off to have you come after me.

*Cain sits by Judas*

Cain: I haven’t been an assassin ever since I moved to the hotel run by Charlie. I was asked to find you so you could be a guest at the hotel.

Judas: I know it is Yeshua who asked you find me, I can’t, I don’t deserve redemption.

Cain: Why not? I am the first murderer and they think I am not beyond redemption. My brother even forgave me.

Judas: It was obvious that it was an accident since the concept of death wasn’t known. I turned on my teacher and my friends for money.

*Judas taps one of the coins on his neck*

Judas: I loved him and I betrayed him. That is just evil.

*Cain put his hand on Judas’s shoulder in a comforting manner when he saw how sad and remorseful he looked*

Cain: I was not only forgiven by my brother, but also my father and mother even though my actions cost them two children. I think you should just give this hotel a chance.

*Cain leaves so he could give Judas time to think*

(I had fun designing Judas especially with coming up with his Sinner traits)

#hazbin hotel #cain #hazbin hotel cain #judas #judas iscariot #hazbin hotel judas #yeshua #hazbin hotel jesus #cain and abel

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sansxfuckyou · 5 months

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nowhere to hide out in the open

summary: the one good thing about these 'Genre Peace' meetings, it would be that Delta Dawn has an excuse to be next to Queen Essence

warnings: its just fluff

authors note: EVERYONE SAY THANK YOU TO @ohposhers FOR DRAGGING ME OUT OF RETIREMENT BY MAKING DELTESSENCE REAL INSTEAD OF LETTING IT ROT IN OUR DM'S FROM MARCH, LITERALLY DRAGGED THIS FIC OUT FROM THE BACK AND FINISHED IT UP IN 2 HOURS NOT EVEN. anyways hope ya'll enjoy and if ya do consider dropping a reblog or checkin' the Ao3 port

To be frank, Delta Dawn didn't necessarily enjoy the fact that the genre leaders had to meet up in Funk's spaceship of sorts; they called it Vibe City. The deck may have been solid beneath her hooves and the air perfectly metered in temperature, but it still felt wrong. Just something made her feel off about living up here, especially when they used to inhabit the deserts and oasis's below.

The only plus was the fact that she was allowed a seat next to Queen Essence, Funk's co-ruler. Pale blue fur and glistening silver tinsel littered across her form and like necklaces on her neck. A spattering of glitter on her face and golden adornments in her hair, voice a gentle timbre and comfy pace-

Delta Dawn definitely enjoyed her, and the fact that she was married with children.

"Now, Queen Poppy, are you sure we really need to unite geographically as well?" Trollzart asked, and the annoying sound of his voice snapped Delta out of it. He sounded like a 'woodwind,' as the Classical's called those instruments.

"Yeah, Popseed, I quite like Volcano Rock City. The Rocker's need some heat to keep us going," Barb tacked on, voice sharp as always with a blunt edge that Delta respected. Even if the gal tried to destroy all music, she had good work ethic.

Poppy gave a nervous laugh, "Well we could at least try making a place where the cross-genre's and genrefluid Trolls could exist in peace?"

"A utopia," King Quincy supplies.

"A Trollstopia, if you will," Queen Essence adds on.

"The only problem with that is the Techno's, they can't be out of water for prolonged periods of time," Branch said. He was already splaying out blueprints, "I'll work on a fix."

"I can help manufacture it," Trollex said and his voice also had an annoying sting too it out of water, oddly synthetic but natural to their speciation.

"Dawn," Queen Essence said, and it took Delta a moment to realize she was referring to her.

The sheriff of Country nodded, "Yes, miss Essence?" Country sensibilities sneaking into her speech again, she really hopes that isn't an offence in Funk.

Instead it makes Queen Essence smile, "Do you have any objections to this Trollstopia?" There's a softness to her tone, a calm that Delta doesn't know too well. Everyone's much gruffer in Country, more to the point and strict about it. Working together is loving each other and tussling in a rodeo is a love language.

Funk Trolls are so... Different, in a refreshing way of course. It's confusing too, Delta never took herself for a romantic, but the Queen is doing something to her. And it's just how she exists too, even when they aren't interacting she's just like this. Smooth and calm and with an amount of allure that Delta is sure must be practiced in advance.

"I got no objections to it, I think it's a great idea," Delta said before standing up and pushing aside the cushion she sat upon. At the slightest hint of Poppy going to speak up, she waved it off, "I'm fine, Queen Poppy, I just need to stretch my legs, get some water."

Her hooves clicked uncomfortably against the metal-adjacent platforms below her. She rubbed her temples as she walked, taking long, deep breaths to try and compose herself. How on earth do they expect her to keep it together when they put her beside Queen Essence? She shouldn't be getting this worked up over a married Troll.

"Dawn, you're probably gonna need some help finding the vending machines," Came a gentle voice from behind her and all she could do was freeze up.

"Naw, I'll be fine, Queen Essence," Delta said, turning to give her an affirming smile. It looked kind of forced.

"Please, just call me Essence," She said before leading Delta along and the sheriff followed without questioning her own actions despite her previous defiance.

Delta gives a huffing sort of sound, it earns her a perplexed look before she remembers that the Funk Trolls don't have that in their lexicon, "Then I have ta ask that you call me Delta."

Essence gives a long hum as she pads down the halls, her paws are near silent against the flooring. A stark contrast to the clip-clop of Delta's hooves, "I'll see what I can do for you."

The slight teasing lilt coupled with a small chuckle has Delta going mad. She trots up closer to the queen of Funk and follows her obediently down the halls. The swirled design of Funk architecture matches the consistent beat thrumming below them in the main corridors. It pulses with a faint glow, so subtle it's almost unnoticable unless you really look close- and Delta needs something to stare at that isn't her guide.

When they come to a stop Essence grabs her a bottle of water, gifted in return for a small melody in a genre Delta doesn't know well. It's interesting technology really, maybe Country is outdated after all. Then she remembers that Pop still lives in the woods and hasn't rebuilt after they had their empire swept out from under their feet by the Bergens. Her genre isn't too far behind, and Funk is highly advanced anyways.

"So, Delta, what's got you down?" Essence asked, dropping down to sit with folded legs on a cushion. Delta followed suit, a low table between them, and she didn't quite sit the same way Funk Trolls did but she made it happen.

"Nothin's got me down," Delta said, twisting the cap off the bottle, "Don't know what gave you that idea."

Essence's brows furrowed, but she didn't narrow her gaze much. She just sighed, "I can't be offended that you don't want to tell me, but I can be offended that you think I can't see what's right in front of me."

That shakes Delta down to her core, she didn't expect Essence to have such keen observations as well. She nearly chokes on her water which has a tang too it, a hint of citrus flavouring perhaps? She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, "I suppose I shouldn't treat ya like an idiot cause you're different than me."

"Some signs are universal," Essence said, "And your vibes aren't exactly feeling on point."

Delta gives a low laugh, "You have a point there, Queen Essence. You're mighty smart, mighty tenacious for waiting so long for your son to show up."

Essence smiles a smile that's so warm it contradicts the soothing frosted hue of her form. She tilts her head a bit as she smiles, a small laugh arising and she brings a paw to hide it. "I'm flattered, Dawn."

"Essence, you seem like the loving type," Delta begins, "Happily married and whatnot."

"So it's a romance problem you have."

She nods, "Yeah, that. What would you say is the best action for loving someone whose already set for life?"

That gives Essence pause, and she's more than clever enough to piece it together right then and there, but she still takes a moment. "In Funk we're usually pretty open, most relations are fluid and shifting states frequently."

"They are?" Delta asked a bit too fast.

"Of course they are, Delta. Are they not in other genres?" Essence asked, a genuine curiosity lacing her voice.

Delta shakes her head, "We're rather monogamous in Country."

"Tell me, Delta," Essence begins, a type of smile on her face that makes Delta shiver. Essence leans a little bit closer, "Is it me?"

"What gave it away, your majesty?" Delta asked.

"Country Trolls are very up front, it translates to the way you act," Essence explained before pressing a kiss to Delta's cheek. It left a silvery, snowy mark in its wake and Delta was too stunned to move. It made Essence giggle a bit.

"But, but you're royalty!" Delta managed to get out, "Doesn't royalty have ta keep a closed relationship?"

Essence shrugged and the tinsel shifted and coat the technicolor glow of Vibe City. "Quincy is understanding, I doubt he'd mind if we let you in for a bit."

"Well alright then." She's not in a cohesive enough mindset to get anything else out of her mouth. She's wearing this dumb grin on her face that's quick to fall.

Essence brings a paw to Delta's face, "What's wrong, darling?"

"Nothin' that needs to be worried about now," Delta brings her hand to rest on Essence's wrist, or ankle maybe? Delta isn't too sure of the proper terminology to use.

"You got your legs stretched out enough to head back, Dawn? They can't make much progress without Country," Essence asked.

"I'm ready," Delta said before standing up, she traced a digit across the lipstick mark on her cheek, "Say, won't this be incriminating evidence?"

"Quincy won't mind," Essence assured with a hum.

"The others?"

"They're in our home, we can evict them."

#trolls #trolls fanfic #trolls fanfiction #deltessence #trolls deltessence #delta dawn #queen essence #writing #fanfic #fanfiction

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quetzalpapalotl · 5 months

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You could call Nominus, Sentinel and Zeta "fake Primes" on the basis that they faked Metrix affinity with a fake Matrix to cement their positions, yes. But the thing is that even if they are fakes, there is no such thing as a "true Prime". There are matrix bearers, sure, and that overlaps with being a Prime, but in IDW1's setting it's important that these two things are not the same and both are ultimately not all that special.

The Matrix itself was always regarded as something special, but Prime seemed to be originally a title for the tribal leaders of old, given that Arcee and Galvatron are first shown ruled over a dude names Septimus Prime before Megatronus kills him. The 13 Primes seem to be the ones holding onto that title when they united the planet, which is when it first got its mystique. Prima keeping the Matrix on his sword mutually feeds their legends. Then they have a fallout that leads to the First Civil war and we get our first "modern" Prime.

It's important to note that Nova Major seems to have become Prime, or rather the ruler of the planet, thanks to his merits as a warrior in uniting the planet after the 13. There's never a mention of the Matrix playing a role in this. Most of what Nova did with it was leave it with Tyrest and co. to experiment on and create sparks and didn't even take it with him when he set off to conquer the galaxy. But equality important is the fact that despite all of this he held the real Matrix.

We have no information on how Nominus rose to power, but by the end of his reign the Matrix is something intrinsically linked to the title of Prime. Nominus pretends that his Matrix is real and both Sentinel and Zeta maintain the charade in order declare themselves Primes. So while I wouldn't put it past Nova to use his link to the Matrix to glorify himself, I think is reasonable to conclude that the idea of the Matrix as a means to legitimaze sovereignty, namely, Primacy, solified with Nominus. Using an object associated with Nova, Prima, The Knights and Primus himself.

(It bears to mention that when Nova is challenging Optimus with the Legacy of Primes, he recognizes Sentinel and Zeta as Primes despite their lack of Matrix (or at least as much Primes as him, let's not get into Titan Return) (he makes to mention of Nominus, to which I say: lol, lmao even))

The Matrix certainly played a role in Optimus becoming the Autobot leader, but so did the vacuum left after Zeta was killed, the fact that Megatron was taking over and they needed someone to rally behind and that Optimus already have had somewhat of an important position in the ranks. During the war proper it matters most that Optimus is able to go toe-to-toe with Megatron and Optimus himself doesn't put all that much stock in the Matrix. But as seen in the OP ongoing, he knew Zeta, he knew how much of a fabrication the title of Prime is and he knew the power of symbols. He tought he could give make the Primacy into something that gives people hope and the answer the story gives him is: it's nice that you tried, but the legacy of Primes is rotten to the core. That's why he had to die, so people could move from this idea. (I wrote more on that here)

When Bumblebee becomes the leader of the Autobots, he's not granted the title of Prime probably due to his lack of Matrix. But neither is Rodimus for having held the Matrix. A Prime is a role and Rodimus never led the Autobots. He's as much of a Prime as Thunderclash, which is to say, neither is. And is ultimately revealed in LL that the Matrix does have a morality lock but that anyone can pass it if they believe in themselves. And that is a very nice sentiment, but also, I must repeat that group includes Nova, a guy who sucks, notably so.

Nominus, Sentinel and Zeta weren't bad because they were fake Primes, they were just bad. Just as Nova was bad despite being legit. The Matrix doesn't make Optimus nor Rodimus special because it will take anyone. It's not actually capable of making fair judgements on the nature of a person. Matrix affinity was always a scam. And there is no glory in Primacy, is an idea that needs to be buried. *Utena voice* There never was any such thing as a Prime anywhere in the world in the first place.

#quetzal rambles tf

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a-very-sparkly-nerd · 3 months

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@dragonprincedrabbles

Gren + Pip, Clear

Gren has an epiphany sitting in the dungeon with Pip, and maybe even a plan for a coup (that is not really a coup because Lord Viren is an illegitimate ruler, but he digresses).

An important fact about Commander Gren is that he was a teacher’s pet.

So of course he would raise his hand as best he could to be called on before speaking, chained up in a dungeon with the elf that had killed his king in a side chamber nearby, and said king’s bird stuck in his cage hanging from the wall.

Their imprisoner strode in, hands neatly folded on top of his staff, eyes shadowed and hanging heavily, bloodshot.

“No hot brown morning potion?” Gren asked, letting his wrists fall as limp as he could. It was hard to sleep standing up.

“No,” Lord Viren sighed, pinching his nose.

He kept on talking. “I have another-”

“Complaint? I’ll send a piece of paper. It will be promptly burned.”

Gren waggled a finger, grinning. “No! Not complaint- constructive criticism! We can all stand to do a little better, dontcha think?”

“If I humor you, will you silence?” Viren groaned, exasperated.

Gren was fairly certain the only reason he hadn’t done worse than chain him up here was because even the strongest mage would be helpless against General Amaya when she got wind of the predicament.

Still, he shrugged. He wasn’t the best at cards, but even he knew when to play an ace. He wasn’t commander to the revered general for nothing. “Sure!”

Viren mustered the most pleasant expression possible for him, one that was still the exact opposite of comforting, and smiled, though it came out a grimace. “Please do share your concerns, Commander.”

“Cool! I think…” He pondered for a moment. “I think it’s a little counterproductive- no, that’s not right. I think, yeah, I think it doesn’t make sense to keep the late king’s, may he rest in peace, bird in the dungeon.”

“And what would you rather I do with him?”

He pursed his lips. Gren hadn’t thought he’d get this far. “I dunno. Let me get back to you?”

“Yes, you ponder on that. Good tidings.”

Viren strode into the elf’s private cell, slamming the door behind him.

Gren leaned back against the hard, damp stone and released a long breath, looking to an oddly silent Pip in his cage hanging from the stairwell. “So. How are you?”

The bird squawked and ruffled his wings.

“Me, too, buddy. Hope you can get out of here, at least. No one’s built for this life.”

Pip tilted his head and picked at something under his wing.

“How long do you think we’ll be here?”

The bird moved his head in a little circle, and Gren chuckled.

“Hope it’s not long. If he cares this much about keeping me off the rescue mission, we could’ve compromised,” he mused. Gren had never been one for complete leadership, instead preferring to follow guidance and lead based on that. He would’ve been more than happy to co-lead the mission with Claudia and Soren, odd as they were. Just more opportunities to get to know them better, because one could never have too many friends.

Pip hopped forward on his perch, leaning his head so close to Gren that his beak poked through the bars. “Harrow,” he squawked.

Gren nodded. “I miss him, too.”

Pip shook his head, vibrant green plumage drooping and dirty. “Viren. Power.”

“I know he wants power,” Gren sighed in frustration, which was very counterproductive–and that was the right word this time–to what he’d worked on in therapy, channeling frustration and anger into productivity and paying things forward. But being productive in his current situation was very difficult, in his defense. No excuses, only doing, Ashton’s voice echoed.

He gestured loosely to the door, taking a breath. “I don’t use the word lightly, but he’s cra-” He paused, the message the songbird was trying to relay growing more clear by the second.

“Are you telling me that Lord Viren let King Harrow die because he saw an opportunity to take power? And that’s why he’s keeping us here, so we can’t interfere?” He leaned towards the bird, struggling to keep his pitching voice from raising too high in excitement as the puzzle pieces fell into place.

Satisfied, the late king’s pet nodded. “Power-hungry fuckface.”

Gren burst out laughing. He had no doubt Queen Sarai had taught the bird that language that was quite accurate in describing the usurper.

“You’re not wrong, buddy. Hey”–he shot the bird appreciative finger guns–“you’re a good friend, Pip. Opened my eyes. But now I have to do something about it.”

Kick him where the sun doesn’t shine and chain him up in your place, Amaya would have said, but Gren didn’t possess her disregard for authority, nor her strength. No, Gren had to be more cunning about it. But how to outsmart a snake?

He thought back to the few words Pip had said, how Amaya had always complained, disgruntled, about the High Mage after every interaction with him.

“He’s manipulating Harrow,” she’d told him once in confidence after a few rounds of drinks, and Gren hadn’t breathed a word of it because not only would that have been treason, but betraying his best friend. “He’s selfish and you could swim in his sea of pride. I keep telling Sarai to work her way to getting him out by getting close to him, but she doesn’t listen. Tries to coexist.”

Pride. That was it.

Lord Viren couldn’t crack the Moonshadow elf who’d killed their king–who Viren might have let kill their king–and it was grating on him, breaking him down bit by bit until he’d do something less than humane- as if he hadn’t already.

Pride. He just had to play to his pride.

Gren had no more aces left. A king would have to do.

A voice echoed from the chamber, angry and piercing. “Would you stop talking to that blasted bird?!”

#gren goes to therapy and you can't change my mind #that man is too optimistic and peppy to not have worked on it in therapy and be so medicated lol #he needs to make everyone go to therapy tho #tdp #the dragon prince #ficlet #my ficlet #gren tdp #tdp gren #i love gren #pip tdp #maybe lowkey dadbird if you squint lol #(still not completely convinced that one's fake tho)#MY STRAWBERRY BABY BOY #sarai absolutely taught pip cuss words you guys i don't make the rules

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crossdressingdeath · 11 months

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I knew it would be risky to give one of the netherstones to that loose catapult Orin, but when I look in her eyes I feel something, though I'm not sure what to call it - and after all, what's the point of a grand alliance of the Dead Three without old Bhaal? I thought I could depend on that aged stump Ketheric, however, it never even occurred to me he could be brought down by a random collection of shabby adventurers. Obviously, possession of the Weapon, but do the vagabonds possess the Weapon or does the Weapon possess them? It's just as the great sages say: a plan will take you only so far, and then you have to fall back on principles. And inasmuch as control is the guiding principle of the committed Banite, it's axiomatic that I must be in control of all three netherstones. The solution is obvious - pit the vagabonds against the loose catapult, and once they bring me the other two netherstones, we'll find suitable positions for them in the new order to follow. Not the illithids' Grand Design, of course, but the Golden Reign of Gortash. Yes, that has a nice ring to it. Then we shall deal with our naughty Absolute brain and its growing propensity to throw petulant psionic tantrums. It's no accident that I chose to place it in a domed cavern beneath the Upper City - the location is perfectly formed to concentrate the psychic force of the netherstones, concentrate it to such a degree that not even our Netherese-enhanced brain will be able to resist my commands. Once I control all three netherstones, naturally, and the sooner the better.

I can only assume this was written in the period between Ketheric's death and the start of act 3 cutscene where Orin reveals that Durge survived and is leading the "shabby vagabonds" who brought him down. I don't think Gortash would've been so dismissive in his writing if he knew his favourite assassin was on their way. Also, he clearly doesn't yet know about how one person alone can't control the brain. It's interesting seeing him talking about how he does in fact intend to stab his remaining ally in the back so that he could control all three Netherstones and the brain when he seems to have genuinely intended to rule with Durge (at least given him being genuine when he re-offers an alliance at the coronation).

It's fascinating seeing Gortash's response to the alliance with Orin as Bhaal's representative versus his response to having Durge as Bhaal's representative. Like... the alliance only exists because he really really liked Bhaal's Chosen. Having him now kind of lightly complaining about having to include Bhaal and talking about how he thought he could rely on Ketheric is absolutely bizarre when you know that all evidence suggests that he had to be forced into letting Ketheric into the alliance because he was entirely happy with it just being him and Durge. The tone of this also doesn't match with how pleased with their partnership he is when he's telling Durge about their plan. Maybe I just have Durgetash brainrot, but it really does feel like some of the spark went out of the whole thing for him once he wasn't going to be ruling with Durge.

Interesting that he seems to have always intended to uphold any bargain he made with the party, even before he realized he'd need at least one co-ruler to keep the elder brain under control. He wasn't going to rule with them, but he wasn't going to kill them either. It's also still very funny that he dropped the elder brain in a place accessed from right beside the Temple of Bhaal while grumbling about not being able to find the temple. And I love him calling Orin a loose catapult, because obviously cannons haven't been invented yet. The etymology doesn't really work (the phrase "loose cannon" refers to a cannon that's come untied and is now rolling around the deck potentially crushing people and breaking shit, which doesn't really happen with catapults), but it's still fun.

#bg3 #enver gortash

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starlightlacrimosazpsff · 1 year

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♧ 𝓑𝓮𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓭 𝓪 𝓟𝓻𝓮𝓽𝓽𝔂 𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓴 ♧

CO-WRITTEN WITH: @heiayen EVENT HOSTED BY: @soleillunne

SYNOPSIS:

Being a spy has its own set of challenges. Being a spy for a vigilante group, in a nation ruled by corrupt officials that dare to usurp the rightful authority of governance, is at an entirely different level of difficulty. You decided to accept the job of spying on a pretty boy from Inazuma, suspected to be a threat for being an accomplice with a dangerous diplomat from Snezhnaya whom was also an exile from your own nation. Due to your own hubris, you may have just earned a new archnemesis.

ENTRY TYPE: Event Submission, GN!Reader

WARNING(S): fight scene with a bit of blood, descriptive violence, degrading language, etc...

CHARACTER: Scaramouche

•

Curse the gods and curse the heavens, this was the last time you signed yourself up for a bigger job! A political affair, maybe something bigger—Inazuma’s most important politician’s son is possibly colluding with one of Snezhnaya’s worst politicians. No one knew why and to make it worse, there was quite the chance whatever they were planning was in one way or another related to the very nation you lived in for years now: Sumeru. Frankly, it was a mess...

…and somehow, you managed to put yourself in the middle of it.

Everyone got concerned when Alhaitham first brought the news to light because no one knew what it would mean for Sumeru. The rulers here were not to be trusted, willing to do gods know what for their own gain. That was also why this group got created, to stand against them and fight for what was right. You offered to spy on him and, yes, you were greeted with objections from Nilou and Cyno— both claiming it would be too dangerous for you. However, in the end, you got the green light.

—and, oh, how bad of an idea it was.

Scaramouche had perfected the act of a corrupt politician's innocent son who did no wrong, and could not be judged by his mother’s crimes when he has proven to be different. He was polite to others, always with a gentle expression on his face. When you first started the job, you could not even believe that this man could possibly be planning something terrible.

Most importantly, he was really pretty.

You knew it should not matter to you, no; but you seriously could not believe someone with a face like his could be a bad person. Then again, they do say not to trust a pretty face.

Ignoring your inner crisis, the job was not that bad at first. Yes, it was pricey because Scaramouche was often a guest of expensive places; and you therefore got the chance to eat expensive food, drinks and just enjoy the life of luxury. It was not with your money either, because all of that was covered under mission expenses by Alhaitham. He did scold you to not order dishes that are too expensive, or you will be the one paying for them. You listened because you knew he absolutely meant it. Still, it was great to enjoy the life of the rich for once. Obviously, it was not all that pretty every time; and sometimes, you would just spend hours walking around with your camera while trying to spot Scaramouche and see what he was doing or if he was talking with anyone.

It was fun, until it was not.

The serenity that surrounded him, combined with the gentleness of everything he did was driving you mad. You were having a hard time genuinely believing that he was behind any kind of political affairs. He literally was so polite to an older waiter in a restaurant! You sat in your chair, staring in shock until another waiter placed food on your table.

There was just no way.

🦋

There was a way, actually.

It was sunny that day when you were simply sitting and observing him again. Nice weather, nothing was happening. You could have just spent this day at home, chilling; but alas, you still had a man to spy on. You could not rest until you were 100% sure that nothing threatened Sumeru, especially when two influential individuals from different nations are suspected to be behind said threat. Fortunately, it seemed that the heavens finally listened to you and you got a lead.

As you sat in a spot high enough to avoid being noticed, you suddenly noticed Scaramouche grab his phone. You wasted no time turning on your camera and zooming in to clearly capture his face.

It…was new.

That usually calm expression of his dropped and got replaced by a scowl. It was a new expression of his, one that you have not seen at all, so you watched him closely with blatant curiosity. Whoever he was talking to, they have clearly angered him—judging by the furrow of his brows and his lips curved into a frown. He yelled too, you noticed; and despite being no lip-reader, you could swear the words he yelled out were insults and curses. Somehow, a part of you felt satisfaction watching the person you were observing for weeks lose their cool completely.

You fought a smirk creeping on your lips. You could not explain why.

You shook your head and brought your attention back to him. The call went on for a few minutes before he ended it with a spat of insults, or so you guessed.

While you had no idea what he was talking about on the phone or if it was in any way related to your current mission, it was still a move.

Guess you should update Alhaitham about it…

🦋

The heavens were on your side for once. When you returned, you handed the recording to Alhaitham. Some time afterwards, you received the transcript of Scaramouche’s conversation. Some of the words were missing since he just was not able to lip-read them, but you were grateful for his work either way. You were even more grateful for the news that came with the transcript.

Scaramouche was, indeed, talking with the very person you and your team suspected: Il Dottore. In Snezhnaya, he was known for his questionable morals, to say the least...and work ethics. There was a saying that if anything was going wrong, it was probably his fault. He studied at Sumeru’s academy but was ultimately expelled and banned from the nation.

For the sake of your sanity, you did not ask why.

However, all this gave you a clear image of upcoming troubles if you did not act in time. You did not know the details yet, but knowing that someone as unpredictable as Il Dottore was related to the case—

You blinked. This was no good.

You looked back at the transcript.

According to it, Scaramouche and Dottore were meant to meet soon at some party for rich people which was actually great for you. You could spy on both suspects at the same time, after all. You knew it would be hard, but even the tiniest chance of getting any more information was worth the risk that came with it. Who knows? Maybe Scaramouche would yell some important details in some fit of anger, and you would overhear it…

That would be the ideal scenario, but not likely to happen.

You liked to dream sometimes.

Also, yes, you were right about the fact he was yelling curses...and insults. Plenty of them even, to the point where Alhaitham—according to the small note he left—just refused to write them down. You laughed to yourself upon reading said note.

Somehow, you could not help but feel… excited at the thought of meeting him.

It was weird. You could not give it a name, but you somehow became too intrigued and personally fascinated with him for your own good. You wanted to meet him, talk to him, and see the carefully crafted mask of politeness with your own eyes. You wanted to see it slip, see a part of the real him come out.

The ugly side that he tried so hard to hide from everyone.

Be the reason the mask slipped.

…gods. Maybe it was your sign to rest for the day. With even more questions and even fewer answers, you got up from the desk and started packing up your things.

The party was this week, after all. You should start preparing.

🦋

Dining in expensive restaurants was one thing.

Attending expensive parties full of important people was another.

Getting an invite for yourself would be hard, given how—well, you were not that important in society. Alhaitham was, on the other hand, so you simply went as his plus one. It was honestly not a bad thing since, thanks to it, you had someone to call for help in case anything went down.

You hoped nothing would.

The first part of your plan was—

“Oh! Are you alright?” A voice asked. You blinked and looked at just who exactly you bumped.

You blinked again. Oh.

You only ever saw him in pictures and from a distance, so only now you realized how…genuinely pretty he looks. He is so beautiful that he could pass as a vintage doll, very pretty.

Too pretty for a human, you would dare to say.

“Yes, yes...! I’m sorry for bumping into you.” You said, smiling.

Scaramouche smiled back, although something was off about it.

“Are you here alone?”

“Oh no, no…!” You shook your head, “I’m with my friend.”

You wondered how many questions he could ask and how many answers you could give him before it would get suspicious. You try to subdue your body language to absolute neutrality to cover your tells.

“Where is your friend?”

“He’s…” You looked around. Truth be told, you actually had no idea where Alhaitham was, “...somewhere?”

“What a friend he is, to leave you alone at a party.” He clicked his tongue and shook his head, “Mind if I keep you company?”

Oh, no.

“There’s no need.” You waved your hand, “You must be busy yourself, I don’t want to waste your time.”

You did not want to risk anything by spending even more time around him. Your plan was simple: it was to bump into him, stick the little microphone to his clothes, and happily listen to his conversation with the Snezhnayan politician. Once that was done, you deactivate the bug so it does not get traced back and you can go back to headquarters in Sumeru with Alhaitham discreetly.

You did the first part and managed to stick the microphone to the inner edge of his suit. Now, you planned on leaving as fast as possible; but alas, that did not happen.

“I insist.” He smiled wider.

A shiver ran down your spine.

You did not understand why he would insist on staying with you. From all the time you spent watching him, he did not seem like someone so willing to accompany a stranger for no reason. Even when he was wearing his gentleman mask, he would always avoid prolonged idle chats and act reserved in the background.

There was no way he somehow found you out, right?

“Well...?” He tilted his head, the curve of his lips dropping just a tad.

“If you insist.” You forced a smile.

His own grew back into a beaming grin.

You had a terrible feeling about it, but still let him lead you deeper inside his web.

“What’s your name?” He asked, and you gave him the first fake name you could think. You were not worried about him somehow calling your bluff. After all, how in the world would he find out?

You just hoped he would not ask about Alhaitham.

He hummed with a nod. “Your friend is…?”

“He’s a businessman!” You blurted out. Good gods, it was as if he read your thoughts and decided to make things harder! “He didn’t have anyone as his plus one, so asked me to come.”

“A businessman, you say?” He raised his eyebrows and you nodded.

“He’s a very busy man, so that’s probably why he left me alone here.” You figured that maybe rambling for long enough would buy you time to find a way of leaving, “He took over his parents’ company at a very young age and did very well, so obviously a lot of people admired him—huh?”

You turned your head at him when you heard him laugh under his nose. What was his problem?

“Do you always talk a stranger’s ears off?” Scaramouche questioned, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

“Well, I guess you’re special?” You shrugged; and before he could reply, you spoke again, “If you mind it, then maybe you should talk now? About yourself, maybe...?”

He looked at you and, somehow, you felt cornered by him in a room full of people.

“About myself...?” He chuckled lowly and leaned toward you, “Don’t you know it all already? Or maybe you’re not as good of a spy as you claim to be?”

You froze, stiffening from head to toe at his statement.

You were busted.

Scaramouche gracefully swiped a flute of champagne from a passing waiter. He keeps his eyes on you, the majestic midnight blue darkening into a burgundy shade. This is a glimpse into the true self you have been wanting to see, yet it sent chilling thrills throughout your body. To witness the seamless change between his hollow kindness to ominous threat, it almost made you flush with shame as a spy when you compared how his facade is legitimately smoother than yours.

“You sure hold a lot of confidence to spy on me,” he chuckled derisively, “yet you can’t even lie properly to save your life. Just from your rambling, I can tell you must have good backing. The downside is your supposed friend must be fairly recognizable. If you out him as your accomplice, your entire operation could fall.”

He took a sip from his glass, elegance blending perfectly with shrewd composure.

"The only smart thing here," he hums as he swirls the liquid, "is that plus-ones are not officially enlisted on the invitations. That means you get to hide your name from me, just a little while longer. That also means your friend gets to keep his dirty secret of being involved in these clandestine operations."

It was very impressive how he managed to deduce all that from one conversation with you. The sheer audacity that he was even laying it all out in the open for you showed how it barely made a difference to him. You have a lot to learn as a spy, it seems. This experience and encounter have just humbled you.

Scaramouche is quite a monster.

You shudder to imagine what it would be like to deal with Dottore.

“So, tell me.” He almost purred, “What’s your objective here, little mouse?”

You gaped incredulously, “Little mouse…?!”

Scaramouche blinked a few times, mocking a surprised expression.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” He teases haughtily, “I was trying to be nice but perhaps you prefer a more accurate nickname. How about a little fly? You sure love acting like one with how you kept hovering for the past few weeks just to get some dirt on me.”

You gritted your teeth as you glare at him, utterly humiliated and infuriated. He casually observes you from head to toe as he drinks the rest of his champagne. As he does, his other hand busied itself in dismantling the bug you implanted on him. With a smirk, he presents it to your face. He leans forward as if to intimately impart a secret.

“Not good at hiding your emotions either…” he notes tauntingly, “Am I your first job, little fly? Quite audacious of you, I must say.”

Your target sneers as he casually crushes the gadget in his fist, displaying an uncanny strength despite his delicate appearance. He drops it and stomps on the object for good measure, whispering to you. For the first time, you realize how dangerous Scaramouche could really be and how arrogant you have been by taking this job.

“You ain’t slick.” He laughs sharply, “How about I show you how it’s done?”

At that moment, he releases just a tad bit of killing intent that makes you instinctively shove him away from you without any coherent control over yourself. The rest of his champagne spills on your clothes, and he gasps—now playing the perfect gentleman again. He sets aside the glass on a nearby table, producing his handkerchief to wipe the stain on your arm and patting your torso lightly.

“A thousand apologies…!” Scaramouche said gently, “I didn't mean to startle you. It’s most fortunate the champagne did not spill too much on you.”

He then smiled so chivalrously that it made you blush. This man has a rotten personality yet his mask is flawless, especially with that pretty face! You know it is fake, a point being proven regarding how much he looks down on your own skills. In fact, because of this play, he has everyone’s attention now. He started the scene, and so he gets to control it—cornering you mercilessly.

“Go ahead.” His eyes seem to goad you, “Call for help from your friend. Let me see who else is behind your operations as I make you fall apart.”

To your credit, you managed to do the exact opposite. You were sure Alhaitham is also holding himself back from approaching for the same reasons. If you were going down, he cannot possibly reveal himself to Scaramouche and Dottore. It was all too clear you made too many mistakes when it came to spying on Scaramouche. The realization hurts your pride, but you have nobody else to blame but yourself. Thus, you did not resist as he touched your arm—deceptively tender as you feel his nails dig as a warning.

“Allow me to escort you to get cleaned.” Scaramouche offers gallantly.

It was not a request. Either you go with him, or he finds a way to hunt you down later.

You complied peacefully.

However, as soon as you are both out of sight and earshot, you will fight back. It was a shame you would have to bruise that pretty face, but the bastard deserves the hit.

He will pay for underestimating you.

🦋

Scaramouche saw your resistance coming.

In the dark of night away from the party, you turned your arm in such a way he was forced to bend his hold. With his balance off, you aimed your free fist towards his face but he dodged effortlessly—that pretty smile still on his face. Burgundy eyes gleam under the moonlight, as if pleased to see your spirit.

It was ironic how you had wished to be the reason Scaramouche’s mask falls off.

However, he was the one doing it to you.

That knowledge serves to piss you off even more as you lunge forward. Hit after hit, he dodges skillfully with the reflexes and agility of a graceful feline. At one point, he boredly taps your wrist away to misdirect your fist and proceeds to use your momentum against you by aiming his knee against your stomach. In a last minute maneuver, your body twirls in a way that would have made Nilou proud. As you fall, one of your hands plants on the ground to help you spin a kick towards his face. He raises his arms to block to which you swiftly flip away to gain some distance.

“Not bad,” Scaramouche smirks appraisingly, “it seems you’re not so hopeless after all.”

He flicks his wrists, showing that the power of your kick did not leave him unfazed. However, you paled a bit when he ended up producing a butterfly knife. Frankly, the tricks he displayed with it impresses you; but you quickly covered it up with a dark glower.

“Don’t pout, little fly~!” He coos in a sickeningly sweet tone, “If you’re dirty enough to intrude on my privacy, I’m dirty enough to use weapons on an unarmed person.”

You huffed, “You seem to put a lot of effort on someone you deem as an insignificant insect.”

He scoffs back at you, “Don’t flatter yourself. I just want to see you bleed for causing this much trouble for me.”

“If you kill me here,” you bluff, “you won’t have a way to cover it up.”

Scaramouche pauses before manic glee flashes in his eyes. He snorts before erupting into full chortles. His cheeks flush pink in genuine hilarity, lips spread wide open with laughter. It made him appear innocent, a young man who was having the time of his life. Alas, the context is darker than that for you. It shows from the glint reflected in those malicious amethysts that glare back at you.

“Why,” he chirps boyishly, “are you scared, little fly?”

He scowls bitterly, “You really think you’d be the first murder victim I’ve cleaned up in these sorts of gatherings. I have plenty of experience, and I know how to handle your type while making it look like an accident...or just have you go missing entirely.”

The blade in his hand glints menacingly as he points it at you.

Then, he attacks.

You sucked a breath through your teeth, flinching to instinctively dodge the stab he aimed at your eye. He is very fast! He is lightning fast, and fluid too. He was not just stabbing or mindlessly swinging. Every movement is precise and nimble, like an assassin who has eliminated all sorts of targets. For every swipe and thrust, he makes use of his entire body and especially his flexible wrist which flicks to aim at the slightest weakspot he sees within a blink. At one point, you manage to kick him back and his moment of shocked astonishment made your chest swell with pride. However, your smug grin immediately falters when he dashes at you while changing hands for his blade and vanishes in a split second—

—only to reappear behind you to hold your entire body in a chokehold, pointing the blade straight to your jugular. It applied enough pressure to cut, making you wince as your skin bled. His lips almost seductively graze your ear, chuckling softly.

“Give up, mousey.” Scaramouche murmurs.

You grunted, “Never.”

“Fine. Then perish.”

On cue, a smoke bomb drops by yours and Scaramouche’s feet. You did not hesitate to elbow him in the gut when his hold loosened in alarm and distraction. You then made a swift escape and barely dodged the blade that blindly flew past your cheek. It embeds onto the cobblestone pathway with a metallic clang. At the same time, your keen hearing detects the sound of a familiar bird call that can only come from the ever quick-witted Alhaitham. With a relieved sigh, you follow the sound into the darkness.

You need a drink as soon as you get back to headquarters.

🦋

Scaramouche silently stood alone in the garden.

He was leaning against a pillar, one hand in his pocket. He then holds up a vial of your blood to the moon, having collected it from the blade that nicked your cheek and neck. It was a meager sample but more than enough for Dottore to know everything about you once Scaramouche hands it over to him. The thought left a bitter taste of disdain in his mouth, but this is not his expertise and he wants results.

He wants to see you again.

Clacking footsteps made his ears twitch but he did not move from observing the crimson elixir as it glowed beneath the moonlit gaze.

“They got away.” Scaramouche informs the stranger coldly.

“Really now?” Dottore laughs humorlessly, “You’ve gotten soft.”

“Shut the fuck up!” The younger male hissed, “Let them and whatever company they keep have this false sense of security. It would be more advantageous for us anyway.”

He shoves the vial towards the unethical doctor, crossing his arms in haughty irritation. His dark burgundy eyes stared blankly at where he last saw you—held you in his arms, and felt shivers down his spine as you fought him with the ferocity of a wild beast.

“I know their type.” Scaramouche gruffly explains, “They would bite their own tongue rather than start talking. They make for a lousy spy based on their skills, but their attitude is stellar for the job.”

Dottore grins widely, “Ha! Careful there, Balladeer. You almost sound doting as you praise the vermin.”

Scaramouche gives him a murderous expression.

“Just get out of my sight!” He spat, “We’re done here.”

Unwilling to spend more time with his co-conspirator, Scaramouche makes himself scarce from the premises. One of his hands combs through his hair agitatedly before loosening his collar with a deep scowl. He can feel his arms bruising after the scuffle, making him laugh under his breath. You surely gave quite the fight even if he had no plans to really kill you tonight.

“Let the games begin, mousey.” He mumbled, “I do love a good chase.”

The Balladeer hopes you were better at running than spying.

It would be boring if he catches you too soon.

•☆••☆••☆•