#fit based off the one royal fit idea I had

[littlexdeaths]

strange love - s.h.

king steve harrington x loser fem reader

everybody wants to know, if we fucked on the bathroom sink…

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: underage drinking (everyone is 18+), mean!dom steve, steve is a major asshole, public sex, light degradation kink, unprotected piv sex, cream pie, steve makes reader cry, some good ole’ angst

a/n: this is a reworking of my first steeb fic i ever wrote on my old account. i hope you enjoy xx. and thank you to @stveharringtn for looking this over and hyping me up. ily cherry 💕

based on strange love by halsey

word count: 2.4k

You shouldn’t have come to this stupid party.

And you wouldn’t have, if Steve hadn’t practically begged you to make an appearance. It was only going to lead to more heartbreak for you, having to watch him flirt with every girl in the room. The night would end with you going home alone, wondering why you weren’t good enough to be on his arm.

Despite all that you go anyway, your heart severely outweighing the logical side of your brain. You even made sure to wear your best dress, hoping it would capture his attention. But the male didn’t glance your way the entire night, and you felt utterly defeated.

Why you didn’t leave after an hour of being ignored is beyond you, a small part of you still holding out hope. Leaning against a wall in the hallway you watch with disdain as your classmates drunkenly grind on each other. It was one of the last parties of the summer before college classes started, and everyone seemed to be making the most of it.

Everyone except for you.

“This was a stupid idea,” you mumble to yourself, glancing down at your drink with a deep sigh.

Swirling the now lukewarm beer around in your cup, no longer interested in people watching. Drunken laughter pulls you from your sulking, watching in utter annoyance as Tommy attempts a keg stand in the middle of the living room.

A large crowd has surrounded him, giving you the perfect opportunity to find Jonathan and leave.

However, feeling a piece of paper being slipped into your hand stops you dead in your tracks. Your eyes searching for the source of the note. A familiar flutter starts in your lower belly as you catch sight of him, the male now halfway up the stairs. You quickly unravel the crumpled page to find a few words written in his messy script.

You immediately crumple the note in your palm, downing the rest of your beer before you make your way up to the second floor. Despite the large and somewhat confusing layout, you navigated the dark halls with ease. As you knew the male's house far too well now, having found yourself in his bed more times than you liked to admit.

This wasn’t supposed to happen like this, it was only meant to be a one time thing. To get back at your cheating asshole of an ex-boyfriend, Troy. After finding him tangled in the sheets with Vicki Carmichael at a party quite similar to this one. All because you weren’t ready to have sex with him. As much as it stung, a bigger part of you was incredibly relieved.

Something never fully cliqued with him, and deep down you didn’t want him to be your first. Troy and Steve were very good friends, and played basketball together. So it seemed fitting to ask Steve to be the one to take your virginity. Telling yourself it would royally piss Troy off, knowing you’d give it up to Steve and not him. But the truth is you’d always secretly had a thing for Steve for years.

That was your real reason, not that you’d ever admit it.

Steve was more than happy to fulfill your wish, not knowing your motive behind it. But what neither of you expected was that he would keep coming back for more. Once he had a taste of you, he couldn’t get enough. You had him wrapped around your finger, without even realizing it. However you both made a promise to keep the whole thing a secret, any plans of revenge now being thrown out the window.

Now that you weren’t dating Troy you had gone back to your quiet loser status, which you much preferred anyway. But Steve couldn’t have that ruining his reputation, so instead of arguing you went along with it. Agreeing to a secret friend with benefits relationship, despite knowing you’d want more. Feelings aside it didn’t stop you from hooking up with him multiple times a week, which brings you back to the present.

Your breathing was labored, partially due to the hand covering your mouth. You could hear the bass of the music from outside the bathroom door, so there was no need to be extra quiet.

But with Steve it was a necessity… especially in such a public place. Where anyone could press their ear to the door and figure out what was happening.

You found yourself bent over the bathroom sink, Steve fucking into you with such a ferocity it made your knees wobble. He had barely let the bathroom door shut before he was on you, tugging your panties down your legs. Tugging his shirt over his head, not bothering to take off his jeans in his impatience to have you.

“God, you’re such a little tease you know that? Wearing this fucking dress, getting me all worked up.” He growled in your ear, whimpering against his hand as he pounds into your soaked heat.

The male is gripping your hip so hard you know he’ll leave bruises behind, but the harsh action only turns you on more. Knowing how desperate he was to have you, made you putty in his strong hands. Your own hand drifts between your thighs, finding your bundle of nerves and encircling it with your fingertips.

Glancing into the mirror in front of you, you watch his face as he continues to ram himself inside you. His honey brown hair sticks to his forehead, no longer styled in the perfect swoop he had it in before you entered the bathroom. His dark eyes meet yours in the reflection, a knowing smirk playing on his lips as he watches you intensely.

“Hm, look at how pathetic you look honey… letting me use you like a whore.” He grunts, leaning in closer and tugging on your earlobe with his teeth, “But you like that don’t you? You like being my whore?”

You find yourself nodding, unable to speak. Partially due to the hand still covering your mouth, but you knew even if it wasn't there it wouldn’t have made much difference. The male had fucked any logical thoughts from you at that point.

But you can’t deny the way your body reacts to his words, your walls tightening around him at the mere mention of belonging to him… and him alone. Something Steve doesn’t miss either.

“That’s cute, baby…” he chuckles, letting his lips graze along the exposed skin of your throat. “Glad she knows exactly who she belongs to.”

Tears of pleasure blur your vision, mascara streaming freely down your cheeks. Your fucked out reflection stares back at you as he continues to pound into you from behind. Hooded eyes drift to gaze at him once more, seeing how his mouth falls open in a moan as you continue to pulse around his cock.

His sun kissed skin was beautifully flushed, his days spent as a lifeguard at Hawkin’s community pool were treating him extremely well. It made you want nothing more than to leave a trail of dark bruises along his freckled neck— effectively marking him as yours.

But you knew that couldn’t happen, he wouldn’t allow it. His reputation as the town’s local biggest player was far more important to him than you could ever be. At least that’s what he wanted you to believe.

You watch in awe as his head tilts back, exposing more of his throat to you. His adam’s apple bobs as he moans, fighting the urge to push him against the wall and taste the sweat that’s coating his skin in a glossy sheen.

Steve just looked so pretty like this, on the edge of release. While you had witnessed it many times now— part of you still was so mesmerized by him.

You can feel your orgasm bubbling up inside you, continuing to rub your clit faster. You cry out against his hand, the whimper of his name now muffled by his palm. Your eyes nearly roll back as your orgasm crashes over you. But Steve doesn’t let up his pace, your knees almost buckling as he fucks into you harder.

“I know you can cum harder than that honey, do. it. again.” He growls lowly in your ear, dropping his hand away from your mouth.

Quickly knocking your own out of the way to continue rubbing your overly sensitive clit. You’d barely come down from your first high before he had you hurtling towards another one, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you with acute precision.

Your eyes meet once more in the reflection, a cocky expression crosses over his features as you feel yourself falling over the edge again. Gripping the counter with both hands, biting down harshly on your lower lip to stop the scream that wants to escape your lungs.

In your euphoric state you don’t notice the way Steve’s eyes watch you possessively, pride filling his chest knowing he’s the only man who has ever seen you like this. The only man to ever make you feel this way, and he planned on keeping it that way. Selfish as it was.

The blissed out look on your face is the thing that finally breaks what little composure he had left. The male burying his face in the crook of your neck as he paints your inner walls with his release. Stilling his hips at your deepest point, in an attempt to keep his cum buried inside you.

Steve’s secret way of marking you as his.

As both of you attempt to catch your breath, the sounds of the party carry on as if nothing happened. When Steve finally releases your hips, you grip tighter onto the counter to support yourself. Knowing your knees were far too wobbly to keep you upright. A soft whimper leaves your lips as he slides out of you, suddenly feeling empty. In more ways than one.

The male is quick to tuck himself back into his jeans, roughly pulling your panties up your legs. You can feel his cum beginning to pool in the lacy material, the dirtiness of it makes your body feel hot. You let out a shaky breath, turning to face him as he finishes tucking his polo back into his levi’s.

“Wait a few minutes before you come back downstairs, yeah?” Is all he says before he’s slipping out of the bathroom, running a hand through his tousled locks.

The door closes softly, and that familiar feeling of shame washes over you again. You shouldn’t be surprised by it at this point, as your little hookups always ended the same way.

With Steve thoroughly pleased with himself, and you all alone.

You can’t stop the moisture from flooding your vision, carefully sitting down on the edge of the tub. Gripping the hem of your dress in your fists as you ruin whatever makeup was still left behind. Shoulders shaking as silent sobs rack through your chest.

In that moment you made a promise to yourself, you wouldn’t let any man— especially someone like Steve fucking Harrington make you feel this way again. It wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t worth it.

You continue to let the traitor tears fall for a while before returning to your feet. Glancing back in the mirror you barely recognized yourself, your usual bright eyes were dull, bloodshot and puffy. The little makeup you had done was now smeared across your cheeks. With a frustrated sigh you attempt to collect yourself before returning to the party.

Cleaning the black streaks from your face, adjusting your rumpled dress until you looked somewhat presentable. Taking a deep breath you finally leave the safety of the bathroom, descending the carpeted stairs on shaky legs. No one pays you any mind as you make your way back into the sea of people.

But what you find in the living room feels like a punch straight to the gut.

Steve is on the couch, another girl already straddling his lap with her tongue down his throat. His large hands that were previously gripping onto your hips were now splayed across her bare thighs. Inching higher and higher up as she tangles her fingers in his hair. You can only stand to watch for a moment longer before bolting out of the room and into the kitchen in search of another drink.

Thankfully the room was almost empty, except for a familiar brunette who was sipping on a can of Pepsi. You don’t say anything to him, grabbing an open bottle of vodka off the counter and bringing the rim to your lips. Enjoying the familiar burn as you greedily gulp down the clear liquid at an alarming fast rate.

Jonathan looks at you concerned, immediately rushing to your side in an attempt to grab the bottle from you. You quickly dodge him, shoving him away with a dirty look.

“Jonny stop! I’m having fun, see?” You roll your eyes before dramatically taking another large swig. Your best friend had seen you drink plenty of times before, but never like this. He knew you well enough to know there was clearly something wrong.

Before you can go back in for another drink he grips onto the base of the bottle, wrestling it from you with a grimace. Before slamming it back onto the counter, making you wince slightly at the sound of the impact.

“That’s enough now. I think I should take you home.”

His tone is stern, but laced with worry. You find yourself pouting in response, a small hiccup leaving you as he sighs. The only reason Jonathan was even here in the first place was to be your ride, he hated these parties. And he especially hated Steve Harrington.

But he was your best friend, and he would’ve done anything for you. And right now anything consists of getting you home before you do something stupid, “Fine dad… take me home then.”

Jonathan rolls his eyes at your childish behavior before wrapping his arm around your waist to help guide you through the house to the front door. The vodka you had just chugged was definitely starting to take effect, as you stumbled alongside him. Now suddenly a lot more grateful for his help.

What you don’t notice in your tipsy state was a pair of honey eyes watching you both from across the room, jaw clenched in jealousy as Jonathan helps you out into the warm summer night.

[lizdive]

hi there! platonic aventurine, jing yuan, sunday, blade, welt, dan heng, boothill, argenti and dr ratio with a teen reader who is like fischl?

Hi anon <33 I really wanted to finish this in one part because i loved this req in specific (i love fischl) but idk why I’m lacking sm motivation,,, so I decided to split this into 2 parts (hopefully) i hope you don’t mind,,, thank you so much for requesting <33 if you’re unsatisfied just tell me and i’ll redo it !! <33

notes 𐙚 gender-neutral reader — "you" + "royal" + "they/them" used to refer to user ,, reader is a teenager ,, user is based off of "fischl" from the game genshin impact ,, platonic relationships ,, mention of fu xuan in jing yuan’s part ,, not my best work i’m sorry ,, mention of robin in sunday’s part ,, not proofread ignore typos

⭑ When he first met you, AVENTURINE was a bit taken aback with your speech and eccentric character in general. You claim to be royalty from a far away world, and while Aventurine didn’t quite believe it at first there was a small part of him that was lowkey kind of convinced.

⭑ He was a bit concerned that someone like you was so high ranking in the IPC because he knows the IPC is probably exploiting you especially because you seem to be a bit naive, so he’ll start watching over you.

⭑ He’ll gradually get used to your persona and understand what you say. He might need a second to process if you drop a huge paragraph of dialogue on him, but with every conversation and interaction he gets faster.

⭑ Takes one to know one — AVENTURINE can tell you’re trying to cope with something that’s happened in the past via roleplaying this character you put on, and he won’t be the one to burst your bubble. In fact, he’ll try to protect it for as long as possible.

⭑ Nobody’s going to make fun of you while he’s around. If anyone tries to reality check you, he’ll lowkey gaslight them into thinking that everything you say is real. Yeah, you’re a royal. He’s also actually seen this far away land you speak of, so that person is just being an ignorant hater !!

⭑ If your character is based off of someone from a book like Fischl, AVENTURINE will find that book and read it to better understand your references and persona as a whole. Likes seeing how you get happy when he references something.

⭑ If you ever feel insecure because of your past, AVENTURINE will be there to comfort you. He’s good at picking up signs when it comes to you because he practically had your character memorized. He’ll try to distract you from your past but if you do want to open up and vent he’ll be there to listen.

⭑ Give him a role in your little world and he’ll play it scarily well. Would probably do best as a royal advisor or assistant.

⭑ Buys you literally anything and everything that could fit your aesthetic and world. Fancy gems to add to your riches because every royal needs to have riches!! Buys you clothes too that you think is fit for royalty of your world.

⭑ You practice archery next to him while he practices gun shooting and it’s nice bonding time,,

"I, [Name], [Insert desired title here], descend upon this land by the call of fate an— Oh, you are also a traveler from another world? Very well, I grant you permission to travel with me."

"They’re saying that it’s nice to meet you."

⭑ Was not in any way bothered or confused by your eccentric mannerisms. JING YUAN’s pretty used to the unique speech style due to Fu Xuan, so he understands what you’re saying or at least gets the basic idea.

⭑ Oh? You’re a royal from a far away distant land? Yes yes, how nice. But royals do need to complete their training as well, no? As a cloud knight, he’s impressed with how you easily climbed up those ranks. Praises you whenever you somehow jump up a rank quicker than the last.

⭑ He doesn’t really suspect too much of your personality and that you’re putting up a front until you slip out and go ooc which makes him do a double take mentally. When you get all flustered and a bit distressed, he’ll reassure you by acting like nothing happened.

⭑ It’s then that he really pays attention to the little story you have going on with the world you live in. If he ever forgets something important, he’ll apologize and tell you that he never meant to insult your highness.

⭑ Another one that would protect your little bubble. I don’t think anyone would really want to say something bad about a high ranking cloud knight but even if they wanted to if JING YUAN or Yanqing were to hear they wouldn’t know peace,,

⭑ He can play the role you give him should you give him, especially as a general. You tell him about someone trying to attack your kingdom and he’ll reassure you he’s got this !!

⭑ Keeps a piece of paper in his pocket that has details about your persona if it’s based off of a character from a book. Also probably has a timeline on all your 'historical' events — sometimes he scares you because it feels like he knows more about your world than you do,,

⭑ He finds your keen instincts and intuition a bit intimidating. Have you ever thought of learning a thing or two from Fu Xuan? He always trusts you whenever you feel uncertain about a plan or idea because somehow you’re almost always right in the end.

⭑ Becomes your archery mentor and will watch over you as you train. Your skills are impressive and he finds amusement in the way you pose after a full combo.

⭑ If you feel upset because of your past, JING YUAN will comfort you and tell you that you don’t have to grow up — you’re still young and deserve to enjoy what remains before you become an adult and have to face the world. He’ll always be proud and support you no matter what.

"I hear the voice of fate, speaking my name in humble supplication..."

"Hm? Care to share what fate whispers?"

⭑ The talk of an eccentric worker in the reverie hotel had easily reached SUNDAY’s ears, and wanting to see who this eccentric worker was, he decided to wander around during his free time to catch them in action.

⭑ It wasn’t hard to find you as you were a bit loud. Pushing the cart of luggage while speaking of your magical kingdom to the guests as they nod along, clearly invested and assuming you were a storyteller. Once you had brought the guests’ luggage to their room and left, SUNDAY made his way to you to talk with you in interest. You had quite the imagination and spoke in a very sophisticated manner for your age.

⭑ Wasn’t at all phased by the paragraphs upon paragraphs of dialogue you would drop on him, replying easily and holding the conversation well. He noticed you seemed happier the longer he spoke to you.

⭑ While some guests may be annoyed by your behavior, he’ll remind them — if he’s present — that penacony is the land of festivities and many different people visit. Plus, you’re young and free to be who you want to be. If you’re really get picked on though he’ll deal with them personally.

⭑ SUNDAY is scarily observant so he knows you’re playing a character. He doesn’t really acknowledge it too much or confronts you, though, since everyone in penacony is also technically playing the character they wish they were.

⭑ Because of that, SUNDAY will let you do as you please. He’ll indulge you and will play the role you wish for him to play. He’s good at acting, so he can play whatever you wish. It reminds him of when he’d play pretend when Robin when he was younger.

⭑ Has everything about your character memorized. However he knows what to say and what not to say so he doesn’t fluster you by knowing more than you. Will also cover for you if you accidentally go ooc.

⭑ Your ability to rise up in the ranks so quickly will eventually make you work directly under him at some point and when that happens trust that people will refer to you with a royal title. He may indulge you a bit too much,,,

⭑ When you open to SUNDAY about your past, he kind of just. . . Dodges the subject after that. Doesn’t mention it at all. May act like your father a bit and call you his [insert royal title here] — you never realize it’s him trying to reassure you that you needn’t worry about growing up and being mature because of the role you’ve given him.

⭑ Gets a bit worried for your safety when you practice archery, but he also appreciates the fact you can take care of yourself should you face any dangers (especially in the dreamscape.)

⭑ Takes your advice and warnings a bit seriously because of how good your intuition and keen instincts were. (He didn’t listen ONCE and he paid the price.)

"What does it take to rile a royal? ...If you must know, it is those who cannot recognize my true identity. But it is no great loss, for solitude is the noble's lot, so long as I do not lose the nobility of my soul..."

"How wise you are, your highness."

⭑ He has no idea when it happened, but one day BLADE became your 'knight' and he has yet to comment on it. Not really the best knight as he doesn’t really stay close to you on the daily however also a really good knight as he protects you during missions to the point where you don’t use a single arrow.

⭑ Can understand what you day, does not translate for other people. You’re the yapper and he’s the listener. Doesn’t reply like 95% of the time but when he does it’s really flat and monotone which you don’t mind because he’s the big scary knight !!

⭑ Gets teased by the other stellaron hunters for indulging you, but he doesn’t really care too much. He can’t leave you to die during missions, can he? You’re way too young to hold your own properly so he’s there to make sure the number of stellaron hunters doesn’t decrease (that’s his reasoning don’t ruin it pls.)

⭑ Said this in other posts: not the best at comforting so when you open up, he’s kind of just,,, there. He’s also a bit distant sometimes but after that he’ll try to put an effort into playing his role so you don’t get upset or feel like he’s ignoring you.

⭑ Nobody thinks of making fun of you or your interests because BLADE’s always standing behind you — even if you’re tall for your age it’s still very scary to have him just staring at the person with a dead look.

⭑ Doesn’t research your character like the others — he learns as he goes. He doesn’t even have the chance to mess up because he just doesn’t talk much so he can’t mess up.

⭑ Not much to say for Bladie he just goes with it,,

"Dusk and dawn but fleeting shadows are. Once more, the twists of fate have led you into my everlasting night."

"…Good morning."

[allastoredeer]

THAT MOMENT YOU REALIZE ALASTOR IS ACTUALLY WAY SCARIER THAN WE GIVE HIM CREDIT FOR

So, in the throes of doing world-building for my Hazbin fics and analyzing characters and how they fit into Pentagram's political system, I realized not only how powerful Alastor actually is, but how fucking scary.

Now, yes, in the grand scheme of things, Alastor is far from the most powerful person in Hell. Far from it. The Royal Family (Lucifer, Lilith, and Charlie), and the Goetia are way above the Overlords. Our twinky, angsty, galaxy bird, Stolas, could 100% body Alastor. I'm sorry, Al. I love you, babe. But in terms of the hierarchal system, you and the other Overlords aren't influential to the rest of Hell, at all.

But, it's an entirely different story if we stick exclusively to the Pride Ring.

I'm not trying to do a big, essay-length analysis, that's a lot of work and I'm tired, so I'll try to make it as brief as possible.

We know three crucial things: 1) sinners aren't allowed to leave the Pride Ring, 2) they've built a semi-functional society for themselves that is exclusive to their specific ring (with a political system that they've molded just for them), and 3) sinners can't kill other sinners.

So, what we have here is a big piece of land stuffed with people who can't leave it, in a society they've built specifically for themselves, with an amassing population that is constantly growing because they have no way of dying/or killing each other. (Honestly, it's like Heaven was setting them up for an Exterminations - THOUGH I'VE ACTUALLY COME UP WITH A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT, COMPLETELY FANON BASED THEORY/WORLD BUILDING IDEA ABOUT HOW HELL HAD KEPT THE POPULATION DENSISTY CONTROLLED FOR THE MILLENIA OF COLLECTING HUMAN SOULS, HOW THE POPLUATION STILL GOT TOO LARGE AND THUS RESULTED IN THE EXTERMINATIONS, AND HOW IT WAS ROSIE WHO HAD A HUGE HAND IN IT ALL.

Anyway, back on topic, so the Overlords essentially control this Ring. We know Stolas lives in the Pride Ring (judging by the red sky we see when he's at his house), so its possible more Goetia live there too (and imps, and succubi; the Pride Ring is known for being the most diverse of the Rings), but we haven't seen any evidence of the Goetia, or any of the other Hellborn, interact or influencE Pentragram City in a political way--outside of the Goetia being above the Overlords in the hierarchal system). I headcanon that they do have some involvement in Pentagram City, as they do live there, but for the most part, the Pride Ring is left completely to the sinners and how they run things.

Lillith got involved, obviously (but she's been missing for years in the beginning of the show), Lucifer hasn't been involved for who knows how long, and Charlie obviously doesn't have a lot of sway, nor did she have any previous influence given how she's treated by the very people she rules over. Her status is known, but there's no actual respect for her or her title as the literal Princess of Hell.

The royal family may the the strongest beings in all of the 7 Rings, but outside of Lillith, it seems they had very little involvement (in Charlie's case) or interest (in Lucifer's case) in ingratiating themselves into Pentagram City.

The entire Ring is being run by the Overlords. They cannot leave it. The Pride Ring is their domain. This is their new home. This is their world.

And in this world, the Overlords are the top dogs.

So, Alastor is powerful just in the sense that he is one of the Overlords. Like them, he is essentially one of the rulers of their personal, caged-off little world. He has power and political sway. He joined the other Overlords for Carmilla's meeting, where they were going to discuss the aftermath of the Extermination and what they can do about the loss in the population (and thus, their power, given that owning souls is how they get it).

It's implied that this isn't the first time they've had meetings like this, and if they get together to discuss the best ways to recover from the Exterminations and make up for their mutual losses (literally working together when they could've all just been rivals trying to undermine the others to get more souls), who knows what else they've discussed in their efforts to keep Pentagram City running (especially considering that the best way to maintain their power IS by maintaining the city, it's people, and keeping it from falling apart at the seams. Taking care of the city is in their best interests - I use "taking care of" very, very loosely, considering this is still Hell and it's hardly the gold standard of utopia's). They're essentially a Board of Leadership with mutually shared power.

The Overlords have all the power. All the sway. In their established world, THEY are at the top of the food chain.

BUT then, you take into account that sinners can't kill each other (a rule that extends even to the Overlords), and that's when things get interesting.

In episode 4, "Masquerade" Valentino told Angel that he's "killed people for less" during the scene in the dressing room. But, in episode 2, after Valentino had torn apart one of Velvette's models, she wasn't upset in the way an Overlord would be if they lost someone under contract, especially considering that owning souls is what gives them power (and I assume that they own the souls of most, if not all, of the people they employ). She said that she can't sit and wait for "that bitch to pull herself back together," so, yeah, the implication is that sinners can literally be torn apart (even by the Overlords, who are the strongest among them) but won't die is immense. No matter what you do, a sinner will reform, or heal, or whatever, but they will come back.

So, consider, that there is only one person who's been able to kill sinners, permanently, and that person is Alastor.

Not only that, he killed Overlords.

In a realm where death is impossible, Alastor had cheated the system. And as far as we know, he's the only one who's been able to do it.

The only person I can think of who has something similar is Carmilla, but that's because she'd integrated angelic steel into her apparel. (Though, there's something to be said about her selling angelic weapons to the masses, as she is a manufacturer and distributor of them not only in Pentagram city, but all of the 7 Rings, (as Stryker had gotten his hands on a "Carmine blessing tipped rifle" to kill off Stolas, who's a Goetia), thus, sinners killing other sinners can still be possible, but that's only if they get you're hands on a weapon with angelic steel, or they're wealthy enough to buy onr, and I imagine Carmilla doesn't sell those cheap.

But Alastor didn't use angelic steel. He found a way to tear souls apart, where otherwise they were only able to be owned. Considering how terrified Husk (who is one of the most calm and collected people in the Hazbin crew; who had once been an Overlord, himself) was when AIastor threatened to do they same to him, like, that goes to show just how serious it is. He was literally full-body shaking. Ears-pinned back. Flight-fight-or freeze. Pressing himself down into the carpet.

We've never seen him like that at any other time during the show, even during the Extermination when they were all about to die.

Alastor's threat had scared him more than literally getting killed my an army of Exorcist's.

And like, yeah???? I get it????

That shit has to be terrifying. Not only for those that Alastor threatens, but for every single sinner in Pentagram City.

This random guy cheated the system, killed without any outside means, and if he can topple Overlords (the strongest and most powerful of them) almost over night, there's no saying what he can do to regular sinners. (Or what they think he can do, I have more thoughts surrounding whether Alastor would be able to tear apart a soul that is owned by someone else, but this is already getting long).

And, presumably, the only reason he stopped is because he decided to.

Like???? Do you guys understand what I'm saying???? For someone to have that kind of power??? In a system where that power SHOULD NOT be possible??? A power that gives him this massive advantage over everyone else???? That no one else can do???? And the only reason he doesn't use it is because he decides not to????

It's no wonder Alastor was so feared. Why he still is feared (by those who know of him at least LOL he has been gone for 7 years). And, like, yeah we see him be all creepy and scary during the show. We see him use his magic and grow into his demon form, and he is intimidating in that right, but I think the true horror of his character comes from this ability to kill the unkillable in a system where it never should've been possible in the first place.

That's where the true terror of the Radio Demon lies. That's where the visceral fear comes from. And it's why he's someone you wouldn't want to mess with, even for the other Overlords (especially for the other Overlords).

Like, it makes sense why he has such a massive ego. Why he thinks he can take on anyone. It's because he has. He's powerful, even by Overlord standards, and he knows it. And it makes further sense why him now being on a leash is making him unravel at the seams.

Am I making sense??? Is this all just meaningless rambling to you guys??? Idk! Idk. It's just been tumbling through my head, and it made me realize just how scary Alastor is, especially from an outside perspective.

I have SO many headcanons T.T I've done so much world-building, and I am have so much fucking fun. I feel like a kid in a sandbox. My brain hasn't stopped buzzing since this show came out.

Anyway, I'm off to outline more wips and work on the fics I'm writing. Happy Hazbin-ing to the rest of you.

[starshipdecay]

Toon Zelda redesigns! I've never been fond of the Toon Zelda design, and these girls deserve some individuality. Design notes and rambles below the cut :D

(time to turn the proper grammar off i aint capitalizing all this. warning: i am verbose)

first up, tmc zelda!

shes the one most like toon zelda, since i felt like the vibes fit the *most* (though not a lot). also, with her place on the timeline, i could justify a lot of bits, like the wings and the cape

the cape! obvs it comes from the toon zelda base design, but also it involves skyloftian fashion! i take the timeline as a challenge, and i once saw a take somewhere that the skyloftians all wear their family crests (most often birds lol) on their person. zelda here (and link too) do just that, wearing their family crests on little caplets. on the back is, of course the royal crest

i went very cutesy princess for her. tmc has such a *whimsical* vibe that i feel is very. muted? by the fact its stuck with the toon style. so i wanted to put in that vibe here. also her sprites make it look like her skirt is super poofy, so how could i not?

curly hair: i wanted something interesting, and most zeldas have straight hair. so! adds to the cuteness

i didnt draw it so well but she (and link) both have very sleepy expressions. zelda especially just has a sleepy expression in her sprite, its quite adorable.

shes not as decked out as other princesses, cuz i see tmc taking place before the royal family really starts to get *royal* as we see it. shes still of course got a tiara and some embroidery tho.

Tetra! her base design isnt all that changed from the original. her name is a fun hc of mine tho. i think "von Hyrule" sounds better as a surname than just "hyrule". shes not zelda, but shes still a descendant.

(WW) princess z (as i call her)

I went more oot zelda vibes for her, since she would be closer, temporally, to oot. i also went very warm, since ive never seen the flood as a *warm* endeavor.

shes got the shoulder danglies, as most zeldas have shoulder armor of some kind. the danglies instead of actual armor are supposed to kind of evoke a royal sea captain kind of vibe.

shes ghostly, with a fish-eyed stare. shes been dead and gone for a long time. shes also a bit taller and a few years older than tetra (as of ww). shes just some spectre the king saw in tetra, not at all a close match

tetra, being smaller than princess z, doesnt fit into the clothes. the dress is too big for her (as is in canon gd that skirt is WAY too long for her), the coat is baggy. the role of a princess *literally* does not fit her.

the ribbons! theyre my replacement for the wings, and they represent the wind in the game! since its represented by white lines, the ribbons are a perfect symbolic match. (also, a note, tetras hair is shorter and coarser than princess z's)

i mostly bullshitted the blue panel but the vague idea i gave it was 'a hope for the triforce to give good fortunes to the people' (pictured as dots, mostly behind her arms)

Pirate Queen Tetra

ph! about a year has passed, and tetra has really grown into her own! as well as literally grown!

shes still tetra, pirate and captain, but shes incorporated that royal heritage into her identity: quite literally! she made piecemeal of the original outfit (what was left of it anyway after the fight), and added bits and pieces to her new life.

she also takes full advantage of said heritage to call herself pirate queen. its great for branding. whos gonna say she CANT go by pirate queen?

the seagull feather is from Aryll. only crew member tetra wears a trinket from (who can say no to that ball of sunshine! certainly not tetra)

not many notes. yall can see whats there. (also she still wears her hair in a bun, its just in a low bun (you can almost see it) when she wears her hat)

st zelda!

first note is: shes not a princess! shes an heiress of the company tetra had made and left behind. hence her title of Lady zelda. ("new hyrule" rly just like-- the ending of ww was *literally* that hyrule is dead and thats okay. how did they miss that :sob emoji:) also calling her Lady Zelda fits with the train vibes

shes in a 1880s style bustle dress because 1) i am OBSESSED with bustle dresses. i love them. so much. 2) the more historical vibe works really well with trains! also a lot of the other outfits in the game have late victorian vibes, so shes certainly not out of place.

her hat (and gloves): any proper lady has a hat on when going about town, however, when she gets body snatched, she pulled out her hatpin to use (ineffectively) as a weapon (she IS tetras great-great-granddaughter), causing her to lose her hat *and* hairdo.

shes still got the hatpin in her ghost form, too. she uses it to threaten people for funsies

Ribbons! on the topic of hairdo, her ribbons! visually tying her to tetras design, the ribbons here instead take on the image of train tracks, with her pin (on the left side) evoking a train engine. the pin also makes her look rich and girly. when her hair comes undone, this makes the ribbons all loose, like how the train tracks disappear in game. (the hat also kinda connects her to tetra)

thanks for reading :D i hope you liked reading this as much as i liked typing it

[enviedear]

holy terrain ⟶ anakin skywalker

description ⌙ anakin can't deny the pull his bratty princess has over him, or rather, has always had over him.

pairing ⌙ anakin x f!princess!reader

warnings ⌙ nsfw, 18+ mdni i will block you. mean(ish)!anakin, equally mean(ish)!reader, they're toxic 'friends', an unreciprocated childhood kiss, also an unexpected kiss, mention of alcohol, brief mention of anidala (they're not tg), a flashback (it's not long dw), improper acts in a royal garden, fingering f!receiving, use of the nicknames petnames princess and jedi, no use of y/n.

word count ⌙ 4.1k

— request | masterlist

ur gonna have to pry anakin & princess!reader fics from my cold dead hands

loosely based off of mother's song.

to the untrained eye, the elaborate ball around you would seem perfect, flawless even. a truly divine display of political power and proceeds all around, but all you're able to take note of is the glaring absence of a certain jedi knight.

it's not your place to ask for his whereabouts, and the idea of anyone knowing that you're looking for him has your head throbbing.

you'd grown up with him, running around the halls of both the jedi temple and your castle respectively.

while your mother, the queen, would discuss and debate with the senior jedi and pompous planetary delegates— you were off getting the young padawan into trouble.

you've never been the most considerate to him— rather, you liked to tease and push him around. anakin was your first and only acquaintance to allow you to deter from the rigid nature of your regality.

he'd take your witticisms and throw some back at you with even more vigor, and when you'd roughhouse with him he never drew back his hits.

he was anakin, and to him, you were just you.

but since the war, and its recent end— you've seen little of him. the most, if only, of him you've seen has been on your holopad.

'hero without fear', the words most always surrounding his likeness.

you're half inclined to think that the boy you grew up with may now be too substantial for you.

you fiddle with your dress' skirt, trying to keep your eyes from drifting back to the jedi and their apprentices who are present, lined in an almost perfect row against a wall. one more glance and you fear you may be drawn into a long conversation about the force, and you'd rather brood in your corner than deal with that.

your body goes stiff at the feeling of two hands coming from behind to clutch your shoulders, "princess, don't tell me you're sulking."

the voice that hits your ears is familiar and warm, and you fight back a grin as you turn to face the young man, "no. but i will now you're here."

his lips upturn in a simper, "oh, then shall i leave you? all alone?"

you hum, in faux thought, "never! i always need a jester at my side. what could be better than your funny face?"

you take him in while he laughs off your quip. his hair is neatly out of his face, longer and more curly than you've ever seen, and his long arms have become fuller, muscles apparent even with his tunics and robe.

his black and flowing garments starkly contrast your fitted and fair-shaded gown, and you take it as a reminder of your evident differences. anakin is a warrior now, while you're left to relegate menial court duty. in a strange way, you envy him.

his path has standards and steps to prove to him and everyone else that he is growing, learning, and becoming more. in your case, you come up lacking.

most people look and speak to you as though you're an idea. a sheltered royal with little to no concept of the galaxy around her.

you like to believe their whispers weren't true, but as you look upon your jedi companion, you feel a deep sense of ineptitude. how could you compete or compare to someone who has seen more planets than you could even name?

you put a small smile on your face, trying to block out your thoughts, "how have you been? i heard a certain senator has been keeping a close eye on you."

anakin's eyes narrow, "royal gossip? may i be privy to such information, your highness?"

he's being coy and you know it, you bring your voice to a whisper, "amidala. i hear you've been seen fleeing her chambers."

he hums, hands coming to rest at his hips, "well, princess, are you asking if the whispers are true," he pauses, head dipping closer to you and whispering, "or are you confused as to what goes on behind closed doors?"

you roll your eyes, "i most certainly do not need any aid in understanding such matters. i have my fair share of suitors. i just wonder how long until such information finds itself back to your council."

he gives you a contemptuous look, "you think too highly of my affection toward her. besides, i've heard she's found someone new to engage with."

"you've heard, or you were told?" you can't help the smugness in your words. truthfully, you've known of anakin's obsession with the young senator for years, and when you learned of her shared interest in him at the beginning of the war you had a strange aggression towards the idea.

the knowledge of the endeavor finally coming to an end relieves an unidentified weight on your chest.

anakin waves you off, "the specifics aren't important, however..." he trails off, looking you up and down.

his words and look pique your interest, "yes, anakin?"

you watch as his eyes leave your form to scan the ballroom. guests are everywhere, leaving the room crowded— and the walls seem to reek of whiskey and nectar wine— usual amongst 'high status' officials.

anakin leans down to you to whisper into your ear, "follow me."

your eyebrows knit together but you do as you're instructed, slipping away from the noisy ball and out into the night air.

there are a few stragglers outside, either intoxicated, engaging in less than pure actions, or a mix of the two.

you look away from a couple touching each other hungrily to glower at anakin, "why are we out here?"

his head turns to look back at you before he continues forward, "patience, dear princess."

your face scrunches in confusion but you continue on, hands pulling your skirts off the ground as you enter into the royal gardens.

you've walked the path beneath you countless times, and one of your earliest memories of the footpaths was shared with anakin. his boyish face covered in dirt after you had convinced him to unearth a large plot of soil for a lake— in your honor of course.

he had spent hours on his assignment, promising that you'd get what you desired.

in truth, a twelve year old you desired no lake, you simply wished to see how far you could get him to go for you.

it was you who held the power then, and he was a faithful devotee— albeit to his masters' chagrin. No one was able to really understand the hold you held over him.

not even the pair of you.

the incident landed both of you in a great deal of trouble, and you were forced to spend the next morning filling said hole. little you was apt to make anakin do most of that chore himself.

not that he had complained.

after a few quiet minutes of walking, anakin stops at one of the smaller fountains in the green. one of the oldest landmarks in this garden, predating the lavish castle on its horizon. it sits surrounded by tall fruit trees, leaving the area sweetly scented and mostly hidden.

"do you remember when i pushed you into this fountain?" anakin asks, voice deviant and deep.

you ponder up at him, "yes, and i also remember how i pulled you in with me."

he hums, a light chuckle falling out of his lips, "hm, and what did i do right after?"

you think back to the day, you, fourteen, and he fifteen. your defensive action had made him so outraged at you. his teenage face had been vibrant pink and his knuckles white.

"maker, you're such a brat!" anakin's voice was riddled with annoyance as he pushed himself out of the fountain, "look at me! i'm all wet and master obi-wan is never going to let me hear the end of this."

you had simply laughed, following him out of the chilly water, "i'm not a brat, and you pushed me first! goodness anakin, you're so boring now."

he turned to glare at you, "don't say that— i am not!"

you rolled your eyes, "are too."

in one quick movement, he had your back pressed hard into one of the trees, "i'm not boring. and if you say it again i'll make you regret it, princess."

you weren't scared of him, you could never be scared of anakin, "well, skywalker, if you're not boring, why don't you prove it."

it had been a silly and childish remark, and you weren't exactly sure how you wanted him to showcase opposition to your teasing. you weren't sure if even he knew how, but his thumbs traced along the veins at your wrists. his touch had left the air around you soft and hushed.

his blue eyes met your own for a split second before he leaned down to you, flushed lips parting ever so gently. he let his hands drop from your wrists down to your hips, and you stiffened at the touch. he had never behaved in such a way before, and the contact had your heart racing.

with little time to think, you watched him erase the space between the two of you, pausing for a short instant, before closing the gap between you. your eyes had gone wide at the feeling of his lips on yours. those perfect lips, full and chapped, lamented at your own— so foreign and new to you.

there wasn't much to the exchange, very little movement on your end and your eyes had stayed open in shock the entire time. just as you thought to kiss him back— he had pulled away.

He had then wiped his lips with the back of his hand before speaking, voice higher than normal, "there. i'm not so boring." and with that, he ran away, back to the castle, and you didn't see him again until months later.

you'd never brought it up and neither had he, so his question had you reigning yourself in, eerily motionless. he had taken your first kiss and never mentioned it again, why would he bring it up now?

you can't shame him much for it, as you had replayed the memory back in your mind thousands of times. commonly going so far as to try and remember what he had tasted like, to memorize the feel of his hands on you.

your mind often wondered what your reaction would be now, you hoped you'd at least be able to kiss him back now. but anakin didn't need to know that.

with a sharp look at him, you reply, "you robbed me of my first kiss, jedi." you inflect when you mention his title, reminding him of his virtuous position.

his left hand finds a place on your waist, drawing you into him, "i've never been considered a thief before— is that really how you recall it, princess?"

you fight your fluster, refusing to cower down to whatever game he's playing at, "oh? what would you call it?"

he quirks an eyebrow, "unfinished."

your stare up at him, body turning to fully mirror his own, "excuse me?"

"incomplete, insufficient," you watch as his other hand, metal, and cool comes to a rest at your shoulder, tugging you even more so to him, "i'd hate to think that was as good as you could do, sweet princess. you couldn't even rally the courage to kiss me back."

you look at him and decide that the jedi knight before you has changed. no longer was he the boy who followed along with your every whim with silent invocation, no longer the young man who engaged in your childish games— instead, the man before you had a presence that alone could send your mind rushing into quite debauched places.

"who said i ever thought about kissing you back in the first place." your voice is barely a mutter, despite the teasing intention.

anakin gives you a smug look, head tipping to the left, "you've grown to be quite the liar, princess."

your words go pointed, "you've grown overconfident."

in truth, he hadn't. his assumptions were correct, but how could you give in to him so easily? anakin is almost entirely overpowering, but you can see the soft pink tint on his cheeks. and you know you have an equal, if not greater, effect on him.

his metal arm is stern against you, and you feel his grasp growing stronger, almost evidence of your words.

lips upturned, he speaks, "overconfidence isn't what this is, i only wish to be useful, princess. how cruel it is to have my dedication be met with apprehension."

his words inflict a firey sensation deep within you, and the atmosphere between you seems to build, fizzling around. you feel as though your sanity has become severed— evolving into an amalgamation entirely made of him.

"and how remiss would i be if i didn't let you fulfill your favor?" your voice feels shakey, but you allow your own hands to find his shoulders, digging in ever so gently and forcing him closer.

he chuckles, eyebrows darting up in surprise, "horribly remiss i'm afraid."

your lips curve, "and this favor," you pause, narrowing your eyes, "you think it should be a kiss? that seems self-seeking."

the knight looks down to your lips, mirth clouding his features, "this is purely for your benefit, princess. don't you deserve the practice?"

in the back of your mind, you could find a tactful solution to this situation. perhaps something that involves stepping farther away from the man peering down at you, but strangely, you've never wanted to be closer to him than you do now.

"as if i need it, jedi." your voice is low when you speak, and you catch anakin's adam's apple hitch up.

you feel like your body is humming as you slide your hands from his shoulders— grazing over his clavicle, up, and towards his neck. you watch his eyes widen slightly, and you can hear his little intake of breath— you got him right where you wanted.

you look up at him once more, silently looking for approval, gratitude, need— something. the blue eyes peering down at you fail to disappoint.

you let yourself stand a bit taller and pull him down to you, inching up until your lips graze his own. you feel his smile when your lips brush, and you bite your tongue before kissing him.

your kiss is deliberate and delicate, but you're fully in control.

he gives into you so easily. he waits for you to pull him closer before he follows suit, nose pressing into the side of your own. he tastes of fruit, and you let your tongue slide into his mouth, greedy for him.

he exhales at that, palming your hips and pressing himself into you ever so slightly. you let out a lewd breath at that, and anakin breaks the kiss to lean his forehead on your own.

you wait a second before looking up at him, and he stares back down at you. his lips part again, but this time you expect them to be followed by words. possibly an apology or a rejection.

he surprises you instead, by dipping down to you once more. his hands trail up from your hips, stopping just below your breasts. you groan when you feel his lips begin to leave kisses along your jaw, trailing down toward your neck.

your shared behavior is absolutely improper for both of you, but you can't seem to care while he's leaving lingering kisses upon your neck, sending goosebumps along your flesh.

your hands push upward, fingers knotting themselves in his hair. you let yourself give his locks a little tug just as he begins to suck on your skin.

you catch your breath from his raw and desperate action. your heart pounds harder, the sensation overcoming you, sending a swell of pleasure through you. he takes every signal you give him, pulling himself closer to you until you can feel the flutter of his heartbeat against your chest.

his lips graze your ear before he speaks, voice barely a whisper, "i'd say we're even now, princess."

your eyes remain closed at his words, enjoying the feeling of his breath against you, "i'm not so sure, jedi."

his hands find a home at both sides of your face, and you look up at him, "and how does my crime of stealing your first kiss continue to go unpunished?"

you're not sure of what to say for a second, shocked still by the look of conviction caught in his eyes, "i never said i wanted to punish you for it."

he moves one hand from the side of your face, tracing it back down towards your hips. he smiles at your words, and looks up at the sky before answering in a low voice," then how else should i show my appreciation?"

you take a step back, leaning against the tree for support. you can feel his gaze on you, but before he can say anything your own bravery speaks up, "appreciation?"

He lifts an eyebrow at your remark and tilts his head inquisitively in response, "yes princess, don't you want me to show you how grateful i am?"

You grin devilishly in response and answer him confidently, “i think i could come up with something."

he grins back lazily, humming a response, and moves closer, hands still firmly positioned on either side of your face. his lips meet the corner of your smile. he leaves a gentle kiss there before meeting your lips with so much passion that your body feels faint.

each trace of his lips sends electric sparks through your body as his kisses fall down your neck towards your collarbone. you shiver at the touch, as he brushes across each sensitive spot. you feel as if he's satirizing you in some way until his lips finally meet the delicate area around your shoulders— leaving soft nipping kisses that cause an uncontrollable moan to escape from you.

you feel his hands drop to your dress' skirt, bunching up the tight fabric and inching it up. when his skin makes contact with the flesh of your thighs, you let your forehead drop to his shoulder.

anakin seems to like this motion, breath hitting against your ear again, "do you want me to touch you, princess?"

you feel overwhelmed, unable to speak past the lump in your throat. you manage a slight nod before finally croaking out, "yes."

anakin's hands immediately respond, brushing up the side of your thighs until they find their way near your pulsing cunt. you feel obscene and exposed by your own need, but anakin seems to grow more confident the closer his fingers dance to you. you hear him laugh lightly as you press yourself into him, silently begging for more.

he abides by your wish, nimble fingers beginning to stroke your clothed slit. you moan at the contact, voice somewhat muffled as your head remains at his shoulder. anakin however chooses this moment to speak, tone falsely saccharine, "sweet princess, aren't you going to tell me what you want? use your words."

for a brief second, you feel impossibly hot and annoyed. you'd rather not voice your desperation for him. you'd be reckless to follow his orders so blindly.

"you're the one with your hands under my dress. what is it you're wanting, jedi?" you finally draw your head back from him, eyes catching his.

anakin lets himself grin, haphazardly letting his thumb brush your needy nub. he watches as you attempt to hide the roll of your hips, "i want you."

he doesn't continue with words, no, he slides your underwear to the side and feels your wetness against his fingers. he lets out a low groan when you grip him tighter.

your back is pressed into the tree behind you and anakin's body seems to lock you in place, not that you'd move away from him now. not when he's teasing your opening and causing your mind to go wild.

"tell me what you want," he smirks, one digit dipping ever so slightly into your heat, "and i'll obey."

you screw your eyes shut, trying to calm yourself. your voice is uneven when you respond, "touch me, please."

he doesn't neglect your demand and he lets his finger slide into you, slow. you clench around the digit, hands snaking into his hair and forehead pressing against his own.

he lets you feel him, as deep inside you as he can possibly get, before sliding out and back in again. you want to scream at the way his digit barely hits the spongey part inside of you, but instead, you let your hands grasp him harder.

he takes pleasure in your whiney noises, pushing further into you before sliding out once more. you whine at his teasing, and you catch the softest grin on his lips as he presses into you, two fingers this time.

you feel more full of him, and the notion has you reeling.

"maker, anakin." you barely hear yourself when you speak, voice so low.

he arches his fingers inside you, hitting the spot that sends your weight fully into his being, "yeah? am i doing a good job princess?"

you hum in assurance, blissful and teetering the edge. you feel drunk with how good he feels, how good he's making you feel.

"good," you moan. "so good."

you cry out his name in praise, only to be met by a lament. the rumble that answers you sounds like distant thunder colliding with sand and stone. a rolling sensation races through your body at the sound of it. your heart thuds in your chest and he watches its movements in delight.

he seems to like the way you're falling apart for him, eyes unwavering in their view of you. slowly but surely, you feel him putting pressure right where you need it until you can hardly handle it anymore. anakin thrusts his digits faster and faster, and you can't help but pull quite firmly at his curls.

his throat elicits a wanton groan at the feeling, and you feel yourself rock your hips to meet his hand. you're so close to the brink.

"do you want to come? hm, want me to make you feel good." you can hear the strain in his voice.

"please, ani." your voice begging, warm at your own words.

his thumb finds your clit again, this time though, his touch isn't feather-light. no, instead he's cruel in the way he massages the bundle of nerves, leaving you a moaning mess beneath his body. he knows exactly how much pressure to use as he presses down on your bud repeatedly. making it impossible to form a coherent thought inside your head.

instead, all you can focus on is the thumb on your clit and the two digits in your core—driving into you relentlessly and the other pressing into you until your eyes shine white, you can feel yourself blanking.

his digits continue to pump in and out of you, humming his approval at your vulgar display— your eyes are heavy, legs unsteady, and lip slightly raw from biting it.

"i'm so close, anakin." you pant, fingers stiffening in his hair.

he whines, "yeah? let go, princess, i've got you."

and with one final plunge of his digits in and out of your warmth you feel a rather sudden wave overcoming your body, jolting everything inside and outside too. the sensation is a pure high, and you claw at anakin's shoulders until the feeling begins to subside. the night air suddenly feels so chilly, but you nuzzle closer into anakin. with you face hidden, you allow yourself a satisfied smile upon your, as well as anakin's, lips.

anakin grins down at you and kisses the top of your head in adulation before slowly removing his hands from you. you feel him trail his fingertips up your spine before speaking in a raspy tone, "how was that, princess?"

your body feels as if it could quaver at the sight of this man before you— a strong and assertive jedi warrior— so taken with you, eyes brimming down with a mixture of pride and adoration.

he pushes himself back slightly, still hovering above you, and looks down into your eyes with an unmistakable warmth in his gaze. you'e sure no one had ever looked at you like that before—like they wanted to consume every fiber of your being, of your soul.

anakin's eyes search yours for a moment before he presses his lips gently against yours in a temperate kiss.

as he moves away again, this time, drawing away enough to extend his arm above your head, fingers now clutching the tree's trunk.

you both remain still there for some time, taking comfort in each other's presence, until finally, anakin speaks softly again,"i thank the force to have met you, to know you. i've missed you, princess." his voice sounds brazen yet gentle.

his free hand lifts, raising your chin up to look into his eyes once more.

you hum, "you've grown better with apologies."

anakin huffs, lips upturned, "maybe, or perhaps solely for my benefit regarding you."

you roll your eyes, "is that what this was? some self-aggrandizing ruse?"

he smirks, eyes widening in faux horror, "never, princess. i only mean to say that i seem to behave best in your company. you wield a tight reign."

you can't help but smile at the compliment, unabashed. "i have no hold over you, jedi."

anakin's lips quirk into a fiendish grin as he reaches up to gently brush his thumb along your chin, "of course you do, princess," he murmurs softly. "of course you do."

[irisintheafterglow]

HAND ONE - HIGH CARD

summary: in a season where you're determined to fly under the radar, newly-returned crown prince!touya todoroki has other ideas. in this hand, a duel is fought.

wc: 1.7k

cw/tags: royalty!au/regency!au, fem!reader, first meeting, touya's sass need its own warning

note: SURPRISE !! bet iris starting another series wasn't on your 2024 bingo (it wasn't on mine) but here we are! this whole series is based on this little idea from a few months back and will include swordfighting! fake dating! mutual pining! angst! balls! (the royal kind, not,,, yk) oh and many poker metaphors lol. hope you enjoy this first little exposition chapter :))

likes, reblogs, and replies are greatly appreciated <3

You would admire the spectacle of it all, had it not been for the aching pain in your feet. 

The hand-me-down heels from your estranged stepmother made it hard to focus on anything but your breathing as you tried to steady yourself against a nearby column in the palace garden. You could practically hear her shrill screaming in your ears for not doing enough to network among the other young nobles, for failing to present yourself as fit for bearing children you didn’t want. As the people you’d grown up with since birth milled about carefully-tended roses and large-bloomed peonies, you couldn’t imagine how they weren’t sweating all their caked-on makeup off in the stifling June heat. Fishing the lacy hand fan from your clutch, you relocate to a shadier side of the column under the stone walkway lining the garden. An aggressive snap echoes off nearby walls when you flick it open and sigh when the air hits your face. 

“You stole my spot,” comes a smooth male voice from the other side of the column. You don’t think the person is talking to you, but then you hear an amused snicker and a small thank you to who you assume is a passing servant. It’s awkwardly silent except for faraway conversations and the breeze blown from your fan until the man clears his throat. “I’m holding out a water to you, if you would kindly look over your shoulder.” Slightly irritated by the condescending tone in his voice, you look and, sure enough, there was a cold glass of water in the stranger’s white-gloved hand. You couldn’t see his face, nor the rest of his body, but something in your gut told you that it was safe. And, if it did happen to be poisoned, at least it got you out of another season. Carefully taking the glass from his long fingers, most of the tension in your body leaves after the first few sips slide down your throat. “Refreshing?”

“Very,” you answer cordially, in that airy tone your stepmother taught you. She said it was a fine way to attract suitors, which made you want to drop your voice several octaves whenever a potential husband drew near. “Thank you. That was very kind of you, Mister…?”

“My identity is irrelevant,” he says quickly and you turn your head in his direction, as if to hear him better. “Nor will I ask of yours, so consider this conversation akin to speaking to a wall.”

“From my perspective, I am speaking to a wall,” you point out and the stranger chuckles under his breath. “May I ask why you aren’t socializing with the others?”

“I could ask the same of you, considering that you’re cowering behind a column.” The jab was evident. Your mouth drops in indignancy and, had it not been for heat exhaustion and your nice spot in the shade, you would have decked whoever was on the other side of this conversation. 

���I am not cowering,” you huff, taking another sip and willing the temperature to decrease just a few degrees. “I am merely…taking a break.”

“Taking a break where no one else can find you? For ten minutes?”

“A woman values her privacy,” you argue. “And as far as I’m aware, you were able to find me quite easily. Perhaps you were the one trying to hide, and I was the one who stole your spot.”

“So, you do acknowledge that you are stealing from me.”

“Space in this garden is not something to be claimed unless you are of the royal family, dear stranger.” You hope he can hear the smirk in your tone. 

“And yet, here you are, stealing what is rightfully mine.” 

“And yet, here you are, stealing what is rightfully mine,” you echo in a nasally, mocking voice that would have placed you in major trouble if your parents knew how you were addressing others. “Cease your bratty ramblings as if you own this palace.” The man barks out a laugh, a reaction you didn’t anticipate. It makes your heart race a little faster, in spite of your will to stay casual. 

“Have suitors ever told you that you’re quite the firecracker?”

“Bold of you to assume they get as far as to speak with me,” you correct without hesitation. Presentations were one of the stupidest parts of your present society, along with those tiny sandwiches and that tea that tastes like boiled shoes. “If they decide to pursue me, that’s their first mistake.” The stranger hums in a low tone. 

“Maybe you haven’t found the right suitor, then,” he muses and, before you can answer, the royal bugles announce the beginning of the duels. Excited cheers and the clicking sound of heels on pavement take over any remaining conversations. You whirl around to the other side of the column, anxious to see the mysterious man you were conversing with, but find the other side as vacant as when you first passed it. Slightly disappointed, you find your place along the perimeter of the circular stone courtyard and wait for the king’s advisor to speak. 

“Today is a day of celebration,” he begins, and you mutter the rest of his speech that you’d heard for the past four years under your breath. The hair stands up on the back of your neck and instinct tells you that someone was watching you, but you can’t find who it is among the hundreds of people present. You think you’ve found the culprit when you lock your gaze with a pair of strikingly blue eyes, but they disappear before you can identify the rest of the person. “And, as you are most likely already aware, this year we welcome His Highness Prince Touya Todoroki to the presentation ceremonies. Though he is of a royal family, those that wish to court or be courted by His Highness may present themselves as suitors as they ordinarily would.”

“And will the Prince grace us with his esteemed presence, or is he preoccupied with his ordinarily outlandish activities?” Sneers and snide remarks ripple through the crowd and the advisor struggles to regain their attention. That is, until that same loud barking laugh that you heard from the other side of the column cuts through the murmurs and mutters.

The voice that follows makes your blood run cold in your veins. 

“How bold to assume any of you are worthy of breathing in my presence.” 

“Your Highness–” 

“Shut up,” he spits, shivers spreading over your skin as the crowd splits to reveal an unruly mass of spiked white hair. His eyes are paralyzingly bright, cold and narrow while they scan the vermin before him. The rumors that circulated of his intimidating nature paled in comparison to the man before you, tall and lean and radiating the most dangerous aura you’d ever come across. All the previously gloating eyes became that of rabbits hunted by a wolf when they came under his gaze…except for yours. By some odd stroke of Fate, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d seen the Prince before, even though that was physically impossible. Maybe you’d passed another white-haired asshole in the market. “Well? Are we starting or shall you keep gawking until I staple your jaw shut?” The advisor stumbles, shrinking away like a mouse in a lion’s den. 

“Yes, Your Highness. May the first Lady to be courted please step forward!”

As the gowns start to swoop and the swords begin to swing, you’re again reminded of just how unnecessary the spectacle of presentation season always was. One by one, daughters of nobility presented themselves to the suitors, who would then step forward and duel one another for the opportunity to court the Lady. The fights were never to the death, of course, but the shame that came with losing more than one duel was close to it; nothing was more embarrassing, however, than having no suitors step forward when a Lady presented herself. It was your worst fear every season, one that you seemingly didn’t need to worry about this time around.

Still, you were met with the same pasty-faced suitor that had been attempting to win your hand for the past several seasons. He’d accumulated significantly more muscle mass since the previous season, but his hot-headed temper and objectifying tendencies were enough of a turn off to send him packing by the end of the first meeting. 

“You have rejected me time and time again, but that only makes you more enticing,” he declares, offering his hand to you while you roll your eyes behind your fan. Ladies who already received their matches swoon at his show of masculinity, but it only makes your stomach turn. “I will win you. That is my promise. And, if not this season, then the next, and I will persevere until the only eyes you look for in a room are mine.” 

“The only thing I would be looking for in a room with you is an exit,” you mutter. He doesn’t answer, eyeing you like you were a wise investment. Gross. 

“You’d do well to accept me.” Your attention darts upward and you meet his stare, irritated at your lack of a response. The volume of his voice drops so that only you two can hear it as he comes to stand inches away from your face. “It’s not like you have the privilege of other options. Marry me or life as a spinster is your only future.” 

“I wouldn’t marry you if the entire kingdom was at stake,” you hiss and his mouth turns up in a snarl, ready to bite out a response when the shing! of a sword being pulled from its sheath echoes through the courtyard. A quiet verbal commotion sets into the crowd, but you’re unable to see anything beyond the asshole before you. 

"Your business is with me, not her," warns a dangerously familiar voice and the man in front of you stiffens. "Let's get this over with."

“The…ahem…duel will begin once both suitors are in first positions,” the advisor relays with great hesitation. You’d never experienced a duel for your hand, yet it seemed that another man had been dealt into the game. With his face drained of its remaining color, Pasty-face draws his blade like an inexperienced marionette, clunky and jagged, as he takes his place in the circle, allowing you to catch the eye of his opponent, molten blue eyes that make your knees turn gelatinous. The prince was dueling for your hand. 

Prince Touya of the Todoroki family was dueling for your hand. 

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[zep-zep-blog]

This is 100% based off the song and episodes 🫡. I also might rewrite this to fit Lucifer too.

Vox x gn!reader

Genre: Angst, fluffy ending, hurt/comfort, song fic

Cw: Imposter, talk of being replaced, mind control(?), swearing, fighting

☾Seeing doubles☽

Reader and Vox are getting married, but something seems off about reader and Vox seems more laggy than usual. Is it nerves or something else?

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Velvette knew something was off. She always had a hunch about something. She knew when Valentino hid his anger or at least tried..and failed, she knew when you and Vox tried to hide your relationship at first, hell she even knew Vox wanted to marry you before he knew himself. Yet she couldn't pinpoint what was off about you and Vox. You guys acted like normal, but Vox seemed more dazed than usual and you seemed to snap at random. That definitely wasn't right, but she chalked it up to nerves or stress about the upcoming wedding and all the planning that had consumed your daily schedule.

It started off small, making comments you usually wouldn't make, having a strange aura, and overall just acting off. Then, she noticed your taste was different, liking a different flavor of cake and other desserts. Then your style was weird, you had always wanted a certain type of outfit for the wedding and yet there you stood in the bridal store wearing something you would never even look at.

Vox was no different, he always had an 'all bark, no bite' vibe, but he seemed more dazed, and laggy, and he blue-screened more than usual. Again, it could all be chalked up to wedding nerves and cold feet or whatever. But when Velvette had a hunch, it was usually right.

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She placed hidden cameras around, ones that Vox couldn't connect to. She hired imps and sinners she made deals with to follow you and Vox around. She constantly tried to keep an eye on you and it finally paid off. She had caught you talking about not loving Vox and sucking the love out of him, this confused and worried her. This person wasn't you, you loved Vox dearly and definitely showed it.

When she found this out she tried to share it with Valentino, but he was both stubborn and blind to hear her out. She tried to get through to Vox, but he lagged and shooed her away. She was frustrated and royally pissed off, someone definitely replaced you and she will get to the bottom of it.

She decided to confront your imposter at dinner before the wedding in hopes of them coming forward. Unfortunately, it ended with everyone shunning her and shutting her down. She left the restaurant pissed, no one was listening to her clearly concerning revelation. She turned the corner and was face to face with you? The imposter?

"Oh, what do you want? I know you aren't the real [Name]." She says with a sour tone.

"Oh, I just wanted to apologize." Your voice rang out, but it had a creepy undertone.

"What the fuck-" Velvette gets cut off as a ring of green fire surrounds her and her vision goes black.

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For what felt like months you were trapped, stuck in this mirror-like prison. With no light except the natural red one that reflected off the crystal-like cave walls. You felt helpless, and scared, with no idea what that monster did to Vox. She was hungry for power and love, she fed off it.

You were so excited, to walk down the aisle with your fiance. To share vows, kisses, and cake, but now? It seemed all too futile. Your eyes were red and puffy from crying tears of frustration and sadness. Your hair was messy from being kept from a hairbrush for heaven knows how long. You had a few scrapes and bruises from wandering aimlessly in the dark, unable to see where a rock or wall was.

That was how it was until you heard the familiar voice of Velvette echo through the caves. Soon she found you, her phone flashlight bouncing off the crystal walls as her eyes met yours.

"[Name]? Is that really you? You're not that prick that replaced you, right?" She asked, looking you over with concern and weariness.

You nod several times, tears welling in your eyes as you hug her. This is the first contact you had with anyone for a long time. It wasn't the warmth of Vox, but it was still comforting nonetheless.

"We have to get out of this shit hole and stop her," Velvette says, pointing her phone flashlight toward the end of the crystal tunnel.

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"This day is going to be perfect. The kind of day of which I dreamed since I was small." Your imposter said, spinning a red rose in between her fingers before putting it into the bouquet.

"Everybody will gather 'round, say I look lovely in my gown." She said, twirling in the mirror, the white lace and silk of the outfit spinning around her figure. "But, what they don't know is that I have fooled them all." She smirks, placing the matching accessory in her hair. She had successfully replaced you and would soon get what she wanted.

'This day was going to be perfect..the kind of day of which I dreamed since I was small..but, instead of having cake with all my friends to celebrate. My wedding bells, may not ring for me at all..'

You and Velvette raced desperately to find a way out, hoping to make it before your double married Vox. You feared what would happen if those vows were made before you could escape.

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"I could care less about the dress." She said, taking a seat at the vanity. "I won't partake in any cake." She took one of the makeup brushes and applied blush to her cheeks. Your replacement stood up and again did a once over in the mirror before turning to a picture of you and Vox. It was your anniversary, both of you smiling and facing the camera. "Vows? Well, I'll be lying when I say, 'That through any kind of weather I'll want us to be together.'" There was a mocking tone in her voice as she scowled at the photo.

"The truth is I don't care for him at all." She took the picture frame and shoved it into one of the dresser drawers, slamming it shut in disdain. "No, I do not love the groom. In my heart, there is no room."

'But I still want him to be all mine.'

"We must escape before it's too late, find a way to save the day." You say to Velvette, searching around for an exit to the reflective prison. She places her hand on your shoulder, breaking you out of your desperate daze. "We'll make it. Don't worry.

'Hope I'll be lying when I say 'I don't fear that I may lose him to those who want to use him. Not care for love and cherish him each day. For I-oh so love the groom. All my thoughts he does consume.'

You and Velvette finally find an exit, rushing to see the surface of hell. You hope that time will be on your side and those wedding bells won't ring soon.

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'Oh Vox, I'll be there very soon.' You pray to the same god that condemned you down here as you and Velvette weed through the streets of the entertainment district. Hoping the crowd would move faster so you could make it to the venue before your imposter made it down the aisle. You and Velvette make it to the entrance, weaving in and out of the crowd as the wedding bells ring out. You look at Velvette with wide eyes, doubt clouds hers as she realizes there's a chance you won't make it.

'Finally, the moment has arrived for me to be one lucky bride.' She smirked as she walked down the aisle, your aisle towards your future husband. Her veil trails behind her as she steps in tune with the wedding march being played.

'Oh, the wedding we won't make, he'll end up marrying a fake. Vox will be-'

'Mine. All mine.'

She gets to the alter, facing a dazed and glitchy Vox. He was clearly under some sort of magic or curse as she stood there. Right as the officiant clears his throat to start his speech you burst through the doors. The guests gasped and turned their heads, there you stood looking madder than ever. The guests looked back and forth between you and the imposter, not knowing who was real and who wasn't. The sinner in your place stared daggers at you, throwing the bouquet to the floor.

"You bitch!" You screamed, pointing fingers at your double. The room went silent, most of the crowd was shocked. "H-how are there two of you?" One of the guests shouts, causing the rest to start whispering amongst themselves.

"She's a shapeshifter! She takes any form and gains power from the love you have for someone!" This caused the fake you to cackle. She stepped forward, smashing the bouquet. "Right, you are. I've been feeding off his love for you, every second I grow stronger." She stepped towards you, green flames engulfing her as she transformed back into her original form. "He may not be my husband, but he is under my total control-" You cut her off by punching her in the face and knocking her to the floor. At this point, the only people left were you, her, and the Vees, the guests had left in a hurry as soon as she transformed.

"Fuck with me or Vox again and I'll remind you why I'm down here." You glare, your words sharp. Her eyes were wide, you had landed a hit on her when she had been practically untouchable for years. She scowled, "This won't be the last time you see me. Mark my words." With that, she disappeared into a pillar of emerald flames.

As soon as she's gone you rush to Vox's side, putting your hands on his shoulders and shaking him softly. "Vox? Vox, please snap out of it." You beg, tears starting to well up in your eyes. Your voice broke as he didn't seem to register your words. You broke down, hugging him tightly. Velvette and Valentino stood there silently as you sobbed into his shoulder, your relationship, him boiled down to nothing from the shapeshifter's doing.

In a last-ditch attempt, you kiss him, hoping it would spark something between the wires for him to snap out of it. Your hands grip his shoulders as you pull away, looking at the black screen. It flashed and he slumped into your arms with a groan.

"Vox? Vox?" You gently shake him, trying to him to look at you.

He turns his head up and looks at you in confusion, "[Name]?"

You hug him tighter, tears falling down your cheeks. Vox is super confused as to why you're crying and the fact he was in an empty wedding venue with you.

"What the- what are we doing here? Why the hell are you so dirty?" Vox pulled away and wiped your tears with his thumb. "We can talk about it later, let's just get home." You say softly, leaning your head into his touch.

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Over the next few weeks, you and Vox planned a real wedding, with the real you. You and Vox picked the right flavors and bridal outfits, happy that it was actually you two. Velvette had never seen Vox this happy and she's his business partner and one of the closest people to him this side of hell.

You finally felt at ease when you walked down the aisle with Vox, saying your vows and slipping the matching rings on. Not even a spear made from shiny angelic steel could break this.

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IT'S FINALLY FINISHED ᕙ(⍢)ᕗ Hope yall enjoy <3

Requests open!!

Tag list: @mrssabinecallas

[glorytoukraine2022]

Hi fellow Frozen fans! I’m here to talk about an opinion from the Frozen fandom that has been bothering me since Frozen 2 came out. I’ve heard several people claim that Elsa was selfish for abdicating the throne to Anna to become the Fifth Spirit. Some people even seem to imply that Elsa doing so is ruining Anna and Kristoff’s lives and their plans for the future. I don’t know where all of this is coming from, but based on varying complaints from the fandom, I have a few ideas.

I think, that some people are just upset because they would rather Elsa remain the prim and proper Queen of Arendelle and Anna, the carefree, bubbly princess. The people who sport this idea annoy, and even anger me to some extent. Anna and Elsa are so, so much more than that. Do you all just want them to remain frozen in time? You have no desire for them to grow as people? If you truly love and appreciate the sisters as characters, then you would WANT them to grow, and reach their full potential.

Why shouldn’t Anna get a chance to lead her people? Why shouldn’t Elsa, a woman who was locked away in her room for thirteen years, get a chance to experience true, complete freedom? Why should she be denied the chance to be happy? To live a happy and fulfilling life?

Is it because she’s the first born and you feel she needs to live out the rest of her days fulfilling that obligation? There were undoubtably plenty of first born Kings and Queens who assumed the throne yet had do desire for such a burden. Nobody should have to be resigned to such a fate. Especially such a unique person like Elsa.

Another reason that I have heard mentioned, is that some people prefer the “Two Queens“ ending. For the people who believe that Elsa and Anna should have ended up ruling Arendelle together, as equals, let me start by saying that that’s not how monarchies work. A monarch usually refers to a single person. A person of royal blood and related to the Royal family.

Yes, a monarch usually does wed another person, but the person who marries an heir apparent only shares their rank and title. They do not have any sovereign powers over the kingdom. They do not rule. Any political power they have is limited to what the monarch allows them to have.

So, the “Two Queens” idea would not work not only because the power of the monarch can only belong to one person, but Anna is Elsa’s sister. Yes, there WAS insest in real life monarchies, but as two females, an heir would never be able to be produced. This was the main reason why monarchs were, often forced, to marry. To produce an heir. The only reason Anna was able to ascend was because Elsa abdicated without a child of her own. They could never have ruled Arendelle together.

I know that part of the reason that this idea appealed to people is because it fit in with the “two sisters“ theme of Frozen. Many people believe that Elsa leaving Arendelle goes against that theme. Or that Elsa leaving Arendelle won’t strengthen their bond. I understand where people are coming from, but again, I disagree.

Elsa is 24 years old. She’s an adult. She’s around my age, and I have many friends who have moved out of their homes. That doesn’t mean that the bonds they have with their parents and siblings deteriorate or that they don’t love them anymore. It just mean that they’re independent. Same with Elsa. It’s only natural that the older sister is the first to move out of the house. She’ll always lover her family and can visit them at any time she likes.

As I mentioned above, Elsa is not ruining Anna and Kristoff’s marriage and lives in the future. She isn’t shoving off uneeded responsibility onto Anna. While Anna may not have been groomed to be Queen growing up the same way that Elsa was, she probably was made aware that as the second born daughter of the King and Queen, that if anything happened to Elsa, Arendelle would look to her. It’s not like Anna is coming into this with zero understanding of what’s expected of her.

I don’t know how many of you read any of the artick of interviews with Jennifer Lee and Chris Buck when Frozen 2 came out, but I did. They stated that the entire point of the movie was for “Anna to become Queen and Elsa to be free.” So the outcome that you’re complaining about was always the intention. Sorry.

Chris and Jen said that Anna should become Queen because of her deep love for her people and that Elsa doesn’t deserve to be trapped in a box. I couldn’t agree more. Anna loves her people and wants to help and do things for them. That’s what being a Queen is all about. That’s why Anna would want and do well in the position. She would be helping her people.

Elsa is a unique person with a unique gift. Even though her powers had been accepted by the people of Arendelle and she was a beloved Queen, she was still somewhat restrained for the sake of fitting in. Elsa could have never embraced her powers and all that she is if she had remained in Arendelle as its Queen.

Elsa abdicated the throne because she had a higher calling. As guardian of the Enchanted Forest, a place where the magic of nature is respected, Elsa can be herself and use her powers to the fullest extent to protect the forest and all its inhabitants.

In conclusion, By abdicating the throne to become the fifth spirit and leaving Anna to become Queen, both Elsa and Anna get the chance to grow into their best selves. This is about what is best for both of them and their happiness. Not about your fantasy preference for their future.

[jbtbas]

Some more redesigns!

Details Below The Cut

Trying to keep things consistent, of course in early/mid medieval times depending on the occasion or type of dress the cut/style/collar could be pretty fluid. I love the idea of the Targs inspired by Byzantine era fashion and ofc GoT introduced asymmetric elements in their design. I generally want them to have straight/slightly curved or v necklines but my canon for the Jaehaerys-era dynasty is that the royal family were trying to align more with the Westerosi elite so dressing more like them and picking up a bit of their prejudices *cough cough Jaehaerys looking at you* Anyways

My favorite, I think she just looks so pretty in this redesign. The absence of chemises is terrible ofc and puffs really make things look more sumptuous. The collar is iffy cause we never see anything like it again even though it could've worked if they stayed consistent. Had to add the Visenya braid of course!

The ladder dress is so anachronistic like even though it's cute all of Ali's mother's dresses look too modern and the bandage bodices look too different. No chemise or puffs, I'm just going to say the 'adult' ladies show a bit more skin and leave it at that since I still wanted the dress to seem 'mature' and with the puffs it wasn't working. Also my canon is that the open flowy sleeves was the style that Aemma introduced to court as queen.

Not enough jewelry, some of their choices look really out of place and I wish we got to seem more crowns/circlets but I get it since they like to save them for their epic moments of crowning. Since they keep young Rhaenyra's hair sooo simple I wanted to add some pizazz. Also had to dress her in Arryn blue at least once in something other than a nightgown, fitting for an episode where she misses her mother.

Alicent’s dress stood out a bit too much because of the contrast of the black and red, it’s also so dissimilar to anything else she wears. I’d like to think this is Alicent trying to fit the appearance of a Targ queen since she’s just been wearing red lately. She’s taken the V neckline from Rhaenys and added the flowy sleeves she remembers from Aemma and her mother. Also gave her a tiny crown-like headpiece. Rhaenyra’s dress is iffy I based it off her red one she wears with Laenor but I was too lazy to add more details. Added a cute little circlet. The dress she wears this scene looks so washed out but it could’ve worked out if it was a different color way/pattern or perhaps if they were more consistent with the style especially since she’s supposed to be hunting for a husband now.

Laena’s dresses all look so awkward on the actresses but ofc who knows how much time the costume department had. The fit of this dress was just a bit awkward around the bust so I just raised the neckline and made it more similar to the other dresses.

[captainaikus]

I love your work so much and it has been like 2 hours since i discovered it aghhh ><

(Nsfw) ik you're on hiatus but just a quick idea(thought it was cool sorry TT). Itoshi rin as a butler and the reader as royalty, reader initiates things by teasing rin but rin rejects because of their differneces in class but eventually give in and lets out his inner yandere 🙏 they have sex secretly with rin degrading reader for being such a whore even though shes royality🤦‍♀️ (you can write it in any way you want ill be satisfied anyways) please ignore if you dont like it im not trying to force you to write this 🙏 love you hope everything's fine!

tysm doll 💜 i'm glad you enjoy my works :p

wc : 1.0k, not proofread.

warnings : dark themes, mentions of nudity, rin has a temper, degradation, mentions of sadness, y/n having a break down, fingering, mentions of alcohol and use of poison, intended for murder. based in victorian period.

Rin is the butler of the house and has been your childhood friend. Considers himself to be distinct from you, he makes his bed on mornings, getting into his suit. Over the years it was the same routine, making your bed, telling you your schedule for the day, reminding you to dab the corner of your mouth when you ate something, giving you a glare when you picked up the wrong fork or when you were crass, even telling you to sit up straight when you slouched.

He is a strict disciplinarian, going harsh and hard on you, sometimes even pushing you to the verge of tears yet he was also the shoulder you cried on certain nights, finding solace in his stiff posture, not daring to touch you. He knew the two of you couldn't be in the same world. You were the princess while he was your butler. A gentle hand like yours wouldn't want his scarred one, he would think, staring into his glass of wine on the kitchen counter. little did he know that you liked him and had found adoration for him over the years.

Just when Rin couldn't seem to shake you out of his head, things got worse. Your bed was messy than usual - taking him hours to spread it over. Your behavior became more crass and you became more defiant, shooting back at him.

the last straw was when you demanded that he bathe you, extending a foot towards him, your breasts covered with the milkiness of the soaped water in the large bath, the sunlight reflecting off your skin making you look tempting to man. "Go on. Clean me, Rin." you tempted, waving your foot of at him.

Throwing the sponge on the ground, he had had enough, getting into the water with you, his shirt becoming soaked and transparent. Holding you by the throat, he leans in menacingly towards you. "I can tolerate having to do chores. But what I won't tolerate is you disrespecting me. Try that again and I'll make sure that you are punished. I might be a mere butler, but remember. I know you like the back of my hand and these years of experience have given me enough knowledge about you. The next time you disrespect me, I will make sure to take you over my fucking knee. Are we clear about that princess?"

You don't talk to him for weeks, while he adjusts to you until he was in the courtroom, summoned by your mother the queen. "Make sure that she fits into the finest of gowns you can find and that she attends to the tailor to have her measurements taken." she commanded. "She has to impress her suitors." The dreaded instance. You were in your early twenties, bound to be married. He was upset that night, going to town once the sun went down to drown his sorrows in his glasses of wine for he hated beer. As the week passed by, he noticed instances of your courtship with the prince of a neighboring kingdom whose name and face he did not bother to remember.

It wasn't until one bold night he couldn't hold it in anymore, watching you give him lust and desired filled glances despite the fiancé of your parents choosing giving you attention with lavish gifts. He came to your chambers that night demanding answers.

"You just love pushing my buttons, don't you princess. What kind of a whorish upbringing did you even have to start behaving like this?" he taunted you as he thrust two fingers into your soaking wet cunt. "Do you just love seducing men and then not giving them what they want? Do enjoy torturing me?" He watched as you turned your head from side to side, refusing to meet his eyes. "Can't even see me. Aren't you even the least bit ashamed of yourself?" he prodded further. You refused to answer, your lips sealed.

Getting on top of you, he grinds his knee into your pussy, making you moan, his hands firmly holding yours above your head.

"Tell me princess, do you like driving a man to the verge of insanity ? Making him watch you with your future husband yet letting him fuck you in this bed ? Just how low has your dignity fallen princess? You're not even worth a common whore, in fact you're worse." he sneered, gathering your hands into his wrist whilst the other was holding the flesh of your thigh. "What other choice do I have?! My parents want me to marry someone of royal stature, yet they care less about me. You've seen how ruthless my kin can be, marrying off my sisters to gain more lands. You think I'm happy ?! huh?! Do you ?!" you cry. He felt nothing more than to make your anguish disappear. Words of love were exchanged that night. "I'm here." "I'm not leaving you." The usual gruff and strict disciplinarian of a butler had turned into a lover, giving you words of affirmation with every thrust, moaning into your ear and kissing every part of your body that his lips could reach, losing his sanity over and over again as your drew him into your warm welcoming arms. The thought of you being with someone else being pushed into the back of his mind replaced with how good you were clenching around him while your nails drew lines down his back, his hand swiping at your clit to give you your release. Lying in the same bed with you he kissed your forehead while his hand pet your hair a sign of a short goodbye as he was to leave early the next morning.

He watched as you pretended to be interested in the talks your fiancé was giving, with the occasional smile you gave him along with a playful tap. Looking into the tray of wines, he knew the prince's glass, slipping a poison into it. You would weep perhaps from shock and sadness over the loss of a life. But in the end,

you would always turn to his shoulder for solace just as you had in good old days.

[adobe-outdesign]

are there any neopets/colors/combinations thereof you have a really strong opinions about but haven’t had the chance to review?

(I'll do Peophins for this one as I feel like I like them more than most and there's no requests in for them right now.)

I'm always amazed that Peophins aren't more popular than they are. They are one of the most beautiful 'pets by far—Neopets as a whole have pretty stocky, chunky anatomy, but Peophins are abnormally thin proportionally, and surprisingly anatomically accurate to real horses compared to something like the Uni. This gives them a natural elegance, which a lot of colours build upon.

Peophins are also really strong conceptually, taking inspiration from mythologies like the hippocampus. Even if you don't know what that is, the mere idea of an aquatic horse with a tail instead of back legs and fins along their ears is a very unique and easy design to grasp. Little things like the plates on their snouts also add to the uniqueness of the design.

The only thing that's bad about Peophins (other than the fact that underwater Neopets like them don't get much NPC rep) is that their basic colours are kind of terrible. They have the base color and yellow accents, but then turn around and have a really off-putting second color for the mane and a random green spot on their forehead gem, creating a mess of a palette. It would've been much better if the green gem was either yellow or the base color, and the mane was a neutral lighter tone. Thankfully, most other Peophin colors fix this issue.

Peophins benefited heavily from conversion, as their old art was extremely dated. In addition to overall art quality, the anatomy was also improved to be less lumpy and things like the ears and mane were improved proportionally.

Favorite Colours:

Tyrannian: Tyrannian's caveman-like designs are not something I'd usually refer to as pretty, but the Peophin knocks it out of the park. The dark streak down the back and the underbelly combined with the fur makes it look a lot more like a prehistorical seal-esq creature, and little details like the mask being made out of stone are perfect. The mane is also quite pretty and adds a much needed pop of color.

Both the UC and converted versions are great, though I'll give the UC a minor edge for having a slightly more unique shape to the ears/fins and having the tail elements be more visible.

Royal: What I like about royal Peophins is that they take the idea of the Peophin's head plate and gem and expand on it, both by wrapping it around the ears to make a kind of crown and by adding lots of complimentary jewelry. I also like how the robes flow nicely with the body and make logical sense for an underwater creature. Both the royal girl and boy are good and match each other well, though between the two I do like the royal girl a bit more just because of the lovely palette.

Stealthy: Slightly unusual for a ninja colour but still very cool, the stealthy Peophin feels like it was also made with the water in mind. Lose-fitting cloth ninja robes are replaced with water-friendly mesh, and there's a bunch of metal holding bands that compliment the usual head plating. I also think that it's neat that they have a tie around their mouth similar to the reins of a normal horse. Also, the unclothed base, while much simpler, is also pretty nice.

BONUS: I'm normally of the opinion that faerie pets are best with markings, whether they be swirls, layers of color, or speckles, so that they're not just a normal Neopet with wings attached. However, while I would've loved to see some light pink swirls around the hooves and tail of the faerie Peophin, it still looks really nice. This is mostly because the lavender base is complimented by pink and silver accents, making it different than a basic Peophin.

Also, the UC/styled version is stunning; the pose is super fluid, the shading is really good, and the slightly different, more defined anatomy in the face really adds something. The converted version is still nice enough, but the wings are a bit too small and washed out color-wise, having lost the yellow dots in them.

They also screwed up the wing shape a bit; it's easier to see in the original Battledome poses, but the wings are one single wing that should run down the back rather then overlapping. They only overlap in the styled art because of the perspective on the tail that isn't present in the converted version.

[weirdowithaquill]

Flying Scotsman in 2004 - A Comedy of Errors and Owners:

Ok - so this is something I've been sitting on for a while now, but I feel like with 'The World Famous Engine' now being uploaded to Ao3, now is the right time to cover this rather insane topic. See, we all know the story of Flying Scotsman and the NRM: the NRM bought the engine for the nation, and then sent it into the Works for 1 years' worth of work in 2006... One year of work that ended up spiralling into ten years and £4.2 million.

But behind that story is a rather more shocking story, and one that really needs more recognition to help people understand just how absolutely shockingly Flying Scotsman had been treated before that overhaul.

Sir William McAlpine:

Our story most likely begins under Alan Peglar, but I have a rather sneaking suspicion it actually gets interesting under McAlpine. Sir William McAlpine bought 4472 Flying Scotsman in 1972 to save the engine after Alan Peglar went bankrupt in San Francisco, leaving the engine on a US Military Base.

He brought Scotsman and had the engine restored at Derby Works in England, and then successfully owned and ran the engine for another 23 years, making him the longest-lasting and most successful of all Scotsman's owners.

Pretty good achievement!

But, during this era, Flying Scotsman visited Australia, broke the record for the longest non-stop run by a steam locomotive, pulled the Royal Train, ran on a multitude of heritage railways and mainline excursions, got an overhaul three times - including one at Barrow-in-Furness (story idea, anyone?). This is not where the worst of the issues arose from, but it does give you a good idea of the kind of work this engine was being tasked with.

And then in 1995, it was involved in an accident at Llangollen Railway. When put back into steam, smoke emerged from a crack separating the boiler and the front cab. It was deemed a total failure and immediately withdrawn from service immediately - and that's what did McAlpine in. He sold the engine off to cover some debts, and Tony Marchington

What do I think went wrong here? I have a feeling that Scotsman was run pretty haggard in Australia (which, fair - it's not always a very nice country to machines) and when refitted to his BR livery, several... shortcuts were made to get the engine back in service. All the same, this isn't where the trouble came from.

Tony Marchington:

And here's where things went south. Fast. Flying Scotsman was bought, went through a three-year long overhaul worth £1 million and then was set to work. Thing is, that overhaul had a number of red flags surrounding it - perhaps most notable being the fitting of an A4 boiler working at 250psi. Now, for those unaware - the original A1 class ran at 180psi, and the upgraded A3 class ran at 225psi. The engine was being run at a pressure it was extremely unfit to operate with.

It would be a bit like fitting a massive V12 motor to a Honda Accord. Yes, the car will move extremely fast and look impressive and move for a while, but every other piece of that car will deteriorate rapidly due to the pressure it's all under. Now transfer that to a steam locomotive - one where to reach that pressure, the firebox is under a lot of strain.

Flying Scotsman failed a lot during the Marchington era, and it's not surprising why. The poor engine was literally falling to pieces - as one NRM staffmember noted: "On our first inspection, the rear drivers had been removed to deal with bearing problems. The visiting NRM team was most unimpressed with the quality of work being done on the bearings. Other examples of poor workmanship (of which I cannot remember the detail) were evident on inspection.”

Please note, the bearings and valves had all recently been replaced.

Also note, Tony Marchington was under pressure from the shareholders of Flying Scotsman PLC - a company he set up - to make money, and so many of the fitters working on the engine may have been given far, far too many constraints in time and budget to properly overhaul the engine, in essence needing to just 'do the bare minimum to get it back in service'...

And this is the condition the NRM bought 4472 Flying Scotsman in.

The National Railway Museum:

All of the above is an indication of the condition that Flying Scotsman was in when bought in 2004 - but that only tells about half of the story. The other half is a bunch of issues surrounding the purchase, certification and understanding of just how bad things were. And make no mistake, the NRM is not blameless in this circus - it just managed to inherit a bad situation and then fumble with it until they sat down and figured out what had happened.

Let's take a moment to look at the AEAT report that the NRM got, then compare it to reality:

The AEAT report stated that:

"Whilst it was not possible to complete a thorough examination of the locomotive, or to witness it in steam, the condition of the locomotive has been monitored regularly as part of the VAB audit process. Taking this into consideration, it is considered that the general mechanical condition is satisfactory for continued operation, subject to effective maintenance, until the next General Overhaul in 2006. The scope of mechanical overhaul is not anticipated to be extensive but will involve strip down of the motion and axleboxes to gauge wear and remedial action. The cylinders all require re-lining and boring to nominal diameter."

The reality of the condition of the engine was far from this rather rosy portrayal given by AEAT. For starters, the engine was not properly examined, and several areas of testing were 'not possibly to be checked adequately' for a variety of reasons, including:

the locomotive was being prepared for a test run

equipment failure

4472 Flying Scotsman not being in steam

Anyone notice something off? Why exactly can the company not see how the engine is when in steam if the engine is being prepared for a test run?

Furthermore, AEAT had been the VAB (Vehicle Acceptance Body) for Flying Scotsman for 14 years by this point and finding a huge number of faults at this point very much would have raised questions about their work. More probably, the company had grown accustomed to the engine working, and simply assumed everything was satisfactory unless demonstratable to the contrary. Like the NRM admitted:

"[T]he previous owner’s VAB may not have been the best choice of inspector."

Thing is, AEAT included pictures in their report, but most of these were of the air brake compressor, locomotive air brake, tender air brake cylinders, TPWS antenna selection switch and the TPWS antenna mounting arrangements, which while critical to obtaining permission to operate on Network Rail, don't say much about the actual condition of the engine. And the photos that were of the actual mechanical parts of the engine were... telling.

The Stay Nuts in the firebox are rusting, melting and missing. And that wasn't the only major issue with the engine - several of which were extremely dangerous:

the Robinson superheater header doors had been seal welded;

other inspection doors had also been seal welded;

Repairs to defective studs on the superheater header were needed;

the smokebox door locking mechanism was broken;

the firebox stays needed caulking;

the boiler mountings and pipework in the cab was considered dangerous;

the air brake reservoirs were overdue re-certification;

two tender springs needed replacing;

Re-metalling one crosshead was needed, which resulted in having to remove the bogie, and led to the discovery that the piston rods were incorrectly fitted to the crossheads and required extensive repairs in order to make them fit properly;

Removal of the 'belly' access door in the bottom of the boiler barrel in order to remove a build-up of some 6 inches of sludge;

one of the tender wheel tyres was flat;

the air pump needed repairs;

the vital axlebox oil pads which were long overdue for replacement;

the tender handbrake just didn't work and needed repairs;

121 boiler tubes needed replacement (2004);

the boiler itself needed replacement (2006);

Foundation ring heavily corroded and cracked;

a large number of latent fractures throughout the whole of the locomotive's frame assembly;

the valves and bearings were faulty or broken;

there was a serious crack in the right-hand cylinder;

the entire firebox itself was in desperate need of replacement;

the boiler washout plugs had been fitted with domestic gas plugs;

the wheels are all in need of re-turning;

the frame hornblocks are all cracked;

one of the driving wheels was bent;

the frame stretchers were all cracked and beyond repair;

The centre-cylinder motion bracket also had cracks;

The frames were wrongly aligned;

And the frame's horn ties were scrap, and needed to be remade.

That is thirty separate issues that the NRM discovered between 2004 and 2012 restoring the Flying Scotsman. The Flying Scotsman needed such a complete overhaul to be restored that some people argued that it would cheaper to just build an entirely new engine.

A completely new version of this engine:

And remember, AEAT certified this engine to run on the mainline. The Flying Scotsman had turned into a literal moving death trap under its various owners, and I am not surprised it cost the NRM £4.2 million to rebuild Flying Scotsman.

In summary, 4472 Flying Scotsman was about as sick as an engine could get when it arrived at the NRM. The amount of work required to fix the poor engine was extensive - and some may argue unjustified. Personally, I disagree. Yes, Flying Scotsman cost a ridiculous amount of money to save and rebuild - but this is not an engine who would ever accept living on a plinth in a museum. This is an engine with a fascinating history filled with trials, tribulations and triumphs; and in my opinion the Flying Scotsman's place is on the mainline. Will there be a day when the old engine has to be withdrawn and placed in the NRM? Probably - it's the oldest mainline certified engine in the UK already, and it's not getting any younger. But by that same token, Flying Scotsman went through a massive, extensive overhaul to ensure that generations to come could see the majestic A3 doing what it always did best, and there's something truly inspiring about that.

A big thank you to the NRM for saving Flying Scotsman, and an even bigger 'what the hell?' to the people who almost destroyed it by being careless.

The pictures used in this post do not belong to me. All pictures belong to their owners. If you wish to read the NRM Flying Scotsman report yourself, this is the URL, and a hyperlink to its archived form on the Wayback Machine:

[st0rmyskies]

HI HELLO Any directors commentary for Sky specifically in The Brave? Blorbo

HELL YEAH I LOVE THAT SLEEPY LITTLE BASTARD

When I started writing the HSH series, I didn't know a damn thing about Sky. I had no idea how to write him beyond his tendency to sleep. One of my friends mentioned that he was a knight, which I had no idea of at the time, and thus his unlikely association with Warriors and Wild was born.

In The Brave, Time picks Sky's brain a bit about his relationship with one of the princesses, and we already know that Sky is head-over-heels for Sun from previous mentions of her. They met while he was in the Guard--although Sky fails to mention in his stammering explanation that Sun was a Guard member, herself, which is a whole nother bit of narrative to address--and Sky completely writes off his own charm and likeability by saying that he 'must be lucky.'

Time continues to press the line of conversation along a vein that makes Sky uncomfortable:

“I’ve always found some of the rules of the Royal Guard to be a bit antiquated,” [Time] spoke as he crossed his study toward the window. Sky relaxed somewhat without Time’s eye on him. “The rule of discharge from the Guard for fraternization or initiating a relationship with one of the royal family dates back centuries, to a time of arranged marriages.” Sky’s palms were beginning to sweat. “That was also well before the Guard was expanded and divided into different sections, including the Airborne Unit.” Time parted the curtains to look out toward the horizon where Hyrule Castle was silhouetted against the afternoon sky. He didn’t need to be looking directly at Sky to keep him pinned to the spot. “They’ve become a bit more lenient over time, though, and I believe that rule is now limited to those Guard members who are a part of the royal family’s close personal detail[...] Members of the Loftwings don’t fit that description, do they.”

Someday, by the end of the story, one might read their exchange over again and realize that Time was going for a different angle than Sky (reasonably) took all this from, and that the man is truly abysmal at communication.

My favorite part of Sky's by far, and probably my favorite part in the entire Townhouse series, is the punch heard round the world:

Time didn’t get the chance to look up before a heavy fist connected with his jaw. The hit knocked him senseless for a few terrifying seconds. He sprawled on his back on the porch as shouting erupted from inside the house, and he lifted his arms to protect his face from a second and third strike. [...] “Not here,” Warriors repeated, hissing through his teeth. His voice was farther away now as he stumbled back across the porch.  Disoriented, Time opened his eye to see that Legend stood over him protectively, that Warriors still held his assailant by the arms— And that Sky probably would have kept going if his friends hadn’t intervened. 

It's the first time I got to write HSH Sky being frightening (LMTCOY moments concerning Volga aside), and boy was it worth it. The fact that sweet-natured Sky felt enough anger to spit at Time will forever make me squeal.

Sky gets to flex some of his skills on the road to Vah Naboris alongside the other guard boys, and then again during the Hylian Waltz scene at the gala where he proves to be one of the more decisive and deadly of the boys. Now that I've played Skyward Sword (more than once, I really do love it), I just knew that Sky needed to be the one to do 'Impa' in.

And she lurched with a grunt, dropping her weapons as the glint of metal burst through her chest from behind. The sword was much stockier than the ceremonial sabres that the honor guard carried, its blade straight and true, and the cross-guard flared out like wings at the base of its purple hilt. It protected Sky’s white gloves from the blood that poured down the steel as Impa’s disguise started to melt away. The traditional grays and blues of her Sheikah suit melted to reveal the bright crimson and black, the uniform of those worshippers of the Calamity: the Yiga. Sky jerked his sword out of the imposter’s chest and let her crumple to the floor. “How late am I now?” he sneered, flicking blood off of the end of his sword.

Sky has plenty more moments to shine in the climax, too. From current draft iterations...

“Sky!!” Hyrule glanced up from where he worked with the Zora hooking up monitors and getting a second catheter in place. Sun stood just behind the ambulance, one hand on the door and the other gripping Sky's jacket. “You are coming!” she shouted at him, her voice just on the edge of panic.  “Sunny,” Sky’s voice was soft as he gently unwound her fingers from his lapel, “I have to stay here.” “You have to come!!” she cried, “What will I–” “I’m sorry.” Once he was able to coax her hand into his, he held it between his gloved hands. “I might not be in the Guard anymore, but I still have a job to do.” “So I’ll go with–” “You need to go with your sister.” Sky nodded toward the back of the ambulance. “We don’t know what’s about to happen. The two of you need to get out of here, get as far away as you can. Where you’ll be safe.” “Promise me you’ll be okay.” Sun took a step toward him, gripping Sky’s face in her hands, her voice wet. “Promise me.” Sky took her wrists, easing her hands down and away from his face.  And before she could open her mouth to argue, Sky leaned in to kiss her, impropriety be damned.  "... I'll see you when it's all over, sunshine."

To say nothing of when the fight takes to the sky over Castle Town.

[anotherhumaninthisworld]

Could you talk about Robespierre and Brissot??? Or maybe more about Brissot, I'm really curious about him!

1789-1792 In his memoirs (written 1793), Brissot writes the following about his activities as a law student in Paris around 1774:

Before leaving the subject of Nolleau’s chambers, […] I must recall the fact that chance gave me there, as second clerk, a man who has since played an amazing part in the Convention, but against whose future celebrity I should at that time have been prepared to bet anything. Ignorant, without knowledge of any scientific subject, incapable of conceiving or expressing an idea of any kind, he was eminently fitted for a career of dishonesty. 

Though Brissot doesn’t state it outright, the second clerk and future member of the Convention mentioned here was at first identified as Robespierre. When Claude Perroud published an edition of the memoirs in 1912, he did however dismiss the idea entirely, considering the fact that in 1774, there would be another four years before Robespierre even began to study law in the first place.

If connections between Brissot and Robespierre before the revolution is something we’re in other words lacking, once we’re into it, it doesn’t take long before the former starts to mention the latter’s name. This in relation to describing interventions made by him during the sessions of the National Assembly and the Jacobin Club in his newly founded journal Le Patriote Français. Based off volume 6 of Oeuvres complètes de Maximilien Robespierre, I find Brissot to have mentioned Robespierre’s name a total of 26 times throughout 1789 and 1790, the very first being in number 17 (August 27 1789). As the journal was more concerned with giving a neutral summary of the sessions, as opposed to spreading the author’s own opinions, most of these cannot be used to determine what Brissot’s personal stance on Robespierre was. Sometimes, the overall neutral tone does however give way for a bit more colorful adjectives:

M. Roberspierre [sic] wanted us to adopt this truly noble formula: ”Louis, by the grace of God and by the will of the Nation; King of the French: To all citizens of the French Empire; People, here is the law that your representatives have made for you, and to which I have affixed the Royal seal. He wanted to develop his thoughts, but he was stopped from doing so. Le Patriote Français, number 66 (October 10 1789)

M. de Robespierre claimed that martial law should not be imposed in the critical circumstances in which the Nation finds itself plunged, and he produced a great impression, with an idea that is imposing and sublime at first glance but which lacks accuracy. Le Patriote Français, number 76 (October 22 1789)

MM. Roberpierre [sic], Biauzat, and Chapelier easily shattered this diplomatic erudition and proved that it was not a question of the rights of the Province of Cambrésis but of a crazy deliberation of an unconstitutional body. Le Patriote Français, number 105 (November 21 1789)

M. de Robespierre defended good principles, he showed that the executive power had an interest in increasing the number of wars, while the interest of the legislative power laid in avoiding them. He concluded that it was dangerous to entrust the law of war to the former. Le Patriote Français, number 184 (May 19 1790)

...There is, however, an article touched by M. Robespierre which has aroused murmurs. This ardent orator made it understood that priests must belong to society through the first of bonds, that of marriage. There is no one who has reflected a little on the cause of ecclesiastical corruption, who has witnessed the good effects of the marriage of priests among Protestant sects, who is not convinced of the necessity of this reform. But although all good minds are convinced of it, although all are convinced of the possibility of combining it with Catholic doctrine, not all also think that this is the moment to propose this idea; they are stopped by the fear of increasing the effervescency among the ignorant: it is perhaps only a false terror... In any case, we must at least prepare the minds, and that is what M. de Robespierre had not done. Le Patriote Français, number 197 (June 1 1790)

M. Robespierre responded very well to the prepositions, by proving that the legislators of a people that succumb under the weight of taxes and debts, can not lend themselves to sentiments generous enough to leave to the prelates their immoderate powers. Le Patriote Français, number 320 (June 14 1790)

M. Robespierre courageously defended the true principles against M. d'André.  Le Patriote Français, number 474 (November 25 1790)

In his memoirs, Brissot writes that Robespierre in July 1790 brought him a copy of a letter to Desmoulins to insert in Le Patriote Français — ”I remember on this occasion Robespierre with his fears and his scruples which he could not dissimulate. Desmoulins' thoughtlessness alarmed him; he didn't know what to think of it.” Brissot did however ”think it agreeable” to Desmoulins to insert neither this letter, nor the response the latter wrote in return and which was also given to him. In December the same year, both Robespierre and Brissot signed the wedding contract and attended the wedding ceremony of said Desmoulins, who in a letter to his father reported that everyone present had been driven to tears during it, after which they all went over to have dinner at his place. These are the earliest confirmed meetings between Brissot and Robespierre that I’m aware of, though it’s far from impossible they had had contacts prior to this as well.

Brissot continues to bring up Robespierre in his journal throughout 1791. He mentions his name or debates which he has taken part in around 50 different times, calling him things such as ”a vigorous defender of liberty” (number 525, January), ”a friend of principles” (number 571, February), ”an enlightened patriot” (number 600, March), ”a vigorous patriot” (number 608, April), ”[someone with] rigorous principles” (number 646, May), ”[someone] favored by eternal principles and sound politics” (number 659, May), and ”a good patriot, firm in principles, deaf to considerations [and] the most implacable enemy of the aristocrats” (number 676, June), and openly showing his support for his stance on topics such as the colonies/the rights of men of colour (number 646, May, number 671, June, number 777, September), the self denying decree (number 608, April), the right to bear arms (number 630, April), the dismissal of army officers (number 673, June) and other smaller affairs (number 586, March, number 591, March, number 592, March). On April 2 1791 Mirabeau passed away, and the following day, Robespierre proposed to the Assembly that the honors of the Pantheon be given to him. In his memoirs, Brissot claims that ”Pétion reproached [Robespierre] for this the same day, he reproached him for it in my presence.”

On June 18 1791, Adrien Duquesnoy attacks both Brissot and Robespierre in number 30 of his journal Ami des Patriotes — ”We are, moreover, on the eve of reaping the fruits of the infernal spirit of system which torments MM. Robespierre, Brissot, etc. They have shouted so much against the distinction of active citizens.” In number 682 of Patriote Français, Brissot responds to his charges and at the same time clarifies that he and Robespierre don’t have any private contacts:

What more will I say about the connections you tie between me and M. Robespierre, and about this infernal spirit that you attribute to us both, about this party over which you make us preside? I have always liked to pay tribute to the inflexible patriotism of M. Robespierre, but I do not share all his opinions; but I don't see him; more than a month has passed since I last had the pleasure of servicing him (de l’entretenir). Party leaders who form a coalition see each other, I believe, a little more frequently.

The number was released on June 21 1791, the same day Paris woke up to the discovery that the royal family had fled the capital during the night. In her memoirs (1793) Madame Roland claimed to in the afternoon have seen both Robespierre and Brissot at Pétion’s house discussing these most recent events:

I was struck by the terror with which [Robespierre] seemed to be overcome on the day of the king's flight to Varennes; I found him in the afternoon at Pétion’s; where he said with concern that the royal family would not have taken this course without having a coalition in Paris which would order a Saint-Barthélemy for the patriots, and that he expected to be dead within twenty-four hours. Pétion and Brissot said, on the contrary, that the flight of the king was his loss, and that it was necessary to take advantage of it; that the dispositions of the people were excellent; that it would be better enlightened on the perfidy of the court by this approach than it would have been by the wisest of writings; that it was obvious to everyone, by this fact alone, that the king did not want the constitution he had sworn to; that it was time to ensure a more homogeneous one, and that it was necessary to prepare minds for the Republic. Robespierre, sneering as usual and biting his nails, asked what a Republic was!

One month later, July 16 1791, both Brissot and Robespierre are found signing the same adress as two of 24 members of the Jacobin Club’s Committee of correspondence. This is the third time Brissot is listed as taking an active part at the club as far as I can see, and the first time he and Robespierre are mentioned during the same session. The day right after, in number 707 (17 July) of Le Patriote Français, Brissot is found agreeing with Robespierre in the big discussion regarding what’s to be done with the king following his capture at Varennes and return to Paris the month before:

…It is very true that to have the king judged by the legislative body would be to violate principles. Also their defenders, Robespierre and Buzot, constantly asked that this great trial be referred to the nation. In that way, we don’t make one power dependent on the other.

The same day this number was released, the massacre on the Champ de Mars took place. Three days later Brissot defends Robespierre against allegations he would be responsible for what had just happened in number 710 of his journal:

Let patriots in all parties stop accusing each other of being the authors of this terrible catastrophe. How did one have the audacity to suspect even the purest virtue? How did one have the audacity to suspect and circulate that MM. Buzot, Pétion, Robespierre were at the head of this uprising? How did one try to raise the national guards and the people against them? Have we therefore already arrived at the unfortunate times of demagoguery, when Socrates and the Phocians [sic] were made to drink the hemlock?

Unlike many other journalists who had to quit their journals in the wake of the massacre due to arrest or going underground, Brissot managed to avoid any repercussions and could stay in Paris and keep his running. In number 774 (September 23 1791), he does however make it clear that, following his election to the Legislative Assembly on September 14 (a place which he surely had the by Robespierre proposed self denying decree much to thank for), he will have to occupy himself much less with Le Patriote Français and leave most of the editing in other hands, but nevertheless continue to give it his ”full attention.” If it would thus appear his role in the editing continued to be considerate, I don’t know how to measure just how much responsibility Brissot is to take for the things that appeared in the journal following this moment…

A week after Brissot’s announcement, the National Assembly was closed down, and yet another week later, October 16, both Robespierre and Brissot are listed as two of twelve jacobins appointed to take part in ”conferances on moral and constitution.” The former did however soon thereafter leave Paris for a visit back to his hometown. He was back in the capital in late November, after which it didn’t take long before a wrench was driven between him and Brissot.

It all started on December 16, when Brissot, after a two month long absence from the Jacobins, showed up and there delivered his first speech in favor of France going to war against German princes (Discours sur la nécessité de déclarer la guerre aux princes allemands qui protègent les émigrés). After the speech was finished, Robespierre, who had shown his opposition towards the idea of war already on December 9, 11 and 12, when brought up by Carra or Réal, suggested the printing of it be adjourned. Two days later, December 18, he responded to Brissot with a speech of his own (Discours de Maximilien Robespierre sur le parti que l'Assemblée Nationale doit prendre relativement à la proposition de guerre, annoncée par le pouvoir exécutif…). After he had finished reading it, Sillery rose to support Robespierre’s position, while Brissot asked to obtain the floor to speak against him during the next session. On December 21 and 25, Carra, Machenaud and Simonne all spoke in favor of going to war, while Desmoulins on December 26 instead took Robespierre’s side with a speech against it. Four days later, Brissot held his second speech in favor of the idea (Second discours de J.-P. Brissot, député, sur la nécessité de faire la guerre aux princes allemands). Journal des Débats de la Société des Amis de la Constitution reported the following in regards to the session:

M. Brissot reads a very long speech, frequently interrupted by applause, on the necessity of an offensive war. He ends with an exhortation to true patriots to submit to the law and never allow themselves to attack the constitution in any way. This exhortation appears to MM. Robespierre and Danton a criticism and an indictment made to the speakers and writers of the Society, because of the kind of affectation which appears to them to be there. They rise to demand the change of this passage in the printing made of this speech. The greatest warmth spread throughout the Society during this discussion, in the midst of which M. Brissot, giving the most striking testimony of the attachment the Societies and M. Robespierre have for the constitution, undertakes to correct the end of his speech in a way so that it won’t leave any doubt regarding his intentions. The sitting is ended at eleven o’clock.

Three days later, January 2 1792, Robespierre held his second long speech on the subject. Unlike his first one, where he had just spoken against going to war in general, here he rather chose to mainly speak against the arguments Brissot had used for it in his speech on the 30th.

…I will try to fulfill this purpose by responding mainly to the opinion of M. Brissot. If general features, if the brilliant and prophetic portrayal of the successes of a war ending with all the peoples of Europe fraternally embracing one another, are sufficient reasons to decide such a serious question, I will say that M. Brissot has perfectly resolved it; but his speech seemed to me to present a vice which is nothing in an academic discourse, and which is of some importance in the greatest of all political discussions; it is because he has constantly avoided the fundamental point of the question, to raise his entire system on an absolutely ruinous basis.

According to Journal général de France, there were however still no hard feelings between Robespierre and Brissot, who ended up embracing each other after the speech:

A great split has just taken place among the Jacobins. M. Robertspierre [sic] has always maintained that we should not wage war: it places in the hands of the executive power means that it could use against the constitution. M. Robertspierre's [sic] obstinacy in maintaining his opinion had made him quarrel with M. Brissot; but they solemnly reconciled, and the club applauded with enthusiasm the embraces they lavished upon each other. Today, M. Robertspierre [sic] is fighting against MM. Brissot, Guadet, Vergniaud, Grangeneuve. The ascendancy of Mr. Robertspierre [sic] still makes success uncertain.

Robespierre had ended his speech promising he would come with further clarifications a few days later, which he also did on January 11. A week after that, January 18, he and Brissot got into a controversy regarding a letter that would have praised Lafayette and expressed doubt over the patriotism of the inhabitants of Metz, printed in number 891 of Le Patriote Français, that had been released the very same day:

Robespierre […] was surprised to have seen a patriotic newspaper, Le Patriote français, expressing doubts about the patriotism of the inhabitants of Metz, and praising La Fayette.

A member asks to make a point of order, and observes that this letter had been inserted the day before in the Moniteur.

Several voices: You’re attacking the patriotism of M. Brissot.

M. Brissot: I declare to the assembly that I was unaware of the letter which was inserted in Le Patriote français by my collaborator. M. Robespierre seemed to cast doubt on the authenticity of this letter. I just saw M. Roederer, who assured me that he had seen the original, and who guarantees it to be genuine. Mr. Robespierre seemed to attack my silence. The painful task that I have imposed on myself prevents me from contributing to the journal assiduously; yesterday I once again spoke for an hour at the National Assembly, and the people can judge whether I am abandoning their cause.

M. Rouyer: Messieurs, I render justice to the patriotism of M. Robespierre and M. Brissot; I am angry that we discuss people when the public good needs us. I am guarantor of both; I ask the Society to move on with the agenda.

M. Robespierre: I declare, in particular, that I am very pleased that M. Brissot was unaware that this letter had been inserted in his journal; I am far from thinking that he wrote it, since the title states that it was inserted in the Moniteur: it is because it is in a newspaper which enjoys a great reputation that I thought it necessary to speak; I have never attacked M. Brissot, our principles are the same; I only refuted his opinion. I come back to my point: I say that the National Assembly must display great character, that it must bring order to the kingdom, that it must never protect the impunity of ministers, that it must exhaust all the good that legislators can do, and then it can declare war.

M. Rouyer climbs to the rostrum and makes some observations in favor of war.

M. Louvet reproaches Robespierre for not seeing the danger where it is, for denying it elsewhere, and thereby incurring a very great responsibility.

The sitting ends at ten o’clock.

In number 893 (January 20) of Patriote Français, Brissot’s collaborator Girey-Dupré responded to Robespierre’s charges, writing that the letter, which had been printed not only in Patriote Français but other ”patriotic journals” as well, had only been an extract from the Moniteur and did not contain any praise of Lafayette. ”As for the suspicions that M. Robespierre tried to spread against this paper,” Girey-Dupré adds, ”I have disregarded the slanders of the aristocrats and the ministers, I can well endure the bad mood of a patriot.”

At the session of the Jacobins held the very same day, Brissot held his third speech in favor of war, where he chose to mainly respond to the arguments laid out by Robespierre most recently, just like the latter had done with him on January 2:

I’m now arriving at the arguments Robespierre made against me at this tribune that I still haven’t answered. […] It is very strange to today see M. Robespierre walking on the same line as the ministry, nevertheless maintaining that he is on the opposite side, and claiming that those who support him are actually against him. […] Certainly, we will not accuse, despite these connections, M. Robespierre of being in concert with the minister; but he should at least believe that this concert does not exist between this minister and those who openly fight him, who vigorously denounce the vices and abuses of his administration. This idea brings me back to some insinuations on the purity of my intentions, which distort M. Robespierre's speeches. They are foreign to him, I like to believe; for I have seen him, I have known his soul, and wickedness never came near him. If there are disguised poisons in his speeches, I will only attribute them to the suggestions of men against whom he is not sufficiently armed with distrust.

When the speech was over, Brissot and Robespierre were made to embrace each other yet again:

M. Brissot justifies himself in response to the insinuations thrown at him by Robespierre in a previous session, and implores him to put an end to a dispute which can only be agreeable to the enemies of the public good.

M. Dusaulx: All the patriots of this club have long been suspended in the course of a discussion which seemed to compromise two good patriots who must love and esteem each other; something would be missing after what M. Brissot said before leaving this assembly, it is the duty of these two generous men to embrace each other. 

No sooner had he finished than MM. Robespierre and Brissot were in each other's arms, amid the unanimous applause of the Society, moved by this touching spectacle. 

M. Robespierre: By yielding to M. Dusaulx's invitation, I only gave myself up to the impulse of my heart, I gave what I owed to the confession and to the fraternity and to the feeling depth that I have of a man who enjoys the greatest consideration and who must render the greatest services to the fatherland; I will prove to M. Brissot how much I am attached to him. This should in no way change the opinion that every man should have of the public good; it is to do all that will be in me, and what I believe necessary for the public safety, that I will ask to answer in another session to the speech of M. Brissot. (speech 3?)

M. Rœderer: I ask for the floor to point out an oversight which, no doubt, escaped M. Robespierre, and that is to request the printing of M. Brissot's speech. I ask for it in his name.

Robespierre did however think this gesture had been a stupid one, as revealed through a letter he wrote to Antoine-Joseph Gorsas, author of the journal Courrier des 83 départements, eight days later. He also safeguarded his own position on the war (that he by then had already held a third speech against on January 25), which he meant Gorsas had gotten wrong when describing the session on the 20th in the latest number of his journal:

I noticed in your number from today an error which deserves to be corrected. When summarizing the latest session at the Friends of the Constitution, the article of which I’m speaking supposes that I have renounced my principles on the important questioned which today agitates all the spirits, since one feels it holds onto public safety and the maintenance of liberty. I would consider myself little deserving of the esteem of good citizens had I played the role this article ascribes to me. What is true in this recital, is that, after a speech held by M. Brissot, on the pathetic invitation of M. Duseaux, the two of us cordially embraced, applauded by the entire club. It is also true that I went through with this action with much pleasure, that the important discussion where we had embraced holding different opinions, had not left any bitterness in my soul; that I am far from viewing as particular quarrels debates that interest the fate of the people, and where I have never held any passion other than that for the public good. Also, far from thinking that neither the fate of the big question which occupies all of France, nor my particular opinion could in any way be subordinated to my sensibility and my personal affection for M. Brissot, I immediately mounted the tribune in order to manifest this sentiment in the following way: ”I just fulfilled a duty consisting of fraternity and of satisfying my heart; I still have an even more sacred debt to pay to my homeland. The profound sentiment which ties me to it, neccessarily supposes love for my fellow citizens and for those with which I have the closest of bonds: but all individual affections must give way to the sacred interest of liberty and of humanity: I could easily reconcile it here with the attachment, with the respect that I have promised to all those who have served the homeland well, and who will continue to serve it well. I embraced M. Brissot with this sentiment, and I will continue to combat his opinion on the points where it differs from my principles, by indicating where I agree with him. May our union rest on the sacred base of patriotism and virtue, let us fight like free men, even with energy if it’s needed, but with respect, with friendship.” Robespierre.

Robespierre didn’t hold more speeches purely about being against war following January 25, but continued to show his opposition at the Jacobins regardless throughout the following months. On February 10, he held a speech with the title On the Means to save the State and Liberty, ”that is to say, (he underlined) to stifle civil war and foreign war, by confusing all the projects of our internal enemies.” On February 24 he spoke out against the club’s committee of correspondence for having stated that the club was in favor of the war, and that those who had supported the opposite party had changed their mind — ”As for me, it remains for me to prove that I have not renounced my opinion in favor of a party that I consider to be the most dangerous for the homeland and for liberty.” Two days later, he demanded that a circular meant to be sent to the sister clubs in the provinces regarding the question include a table containing the reasons put forward by different speakers for or against war, as opposed to stating the majority of the society was for it. Brissot on the other hand retreated back to the Legislative Assembly to continue pushing his agenda there instead, supported by people such as Louvet, Gensonné, Vergniaud, Isnard, Guadet, Manuel, Roederer, Bangal, and Cloots. Number 963 (March 30 1792) of Le Patriote Français contained an article titled ”On the new tactic of the enemies of liberty” and, while not naming Robespierre by name, suggested that those that were against war had ulterior motives for doing so — “any opinion against the war can only be very disastrous, and we understand that it must be used by this Austrian committee, which wants to give its friends time to prepare to attack us.” The article is not signed by Brissot and as mentioned above, he had by this point in large part handed over the editing to others. Regardless, it can probably be concluded that such an article appearing in what was technically still his journal did no miracles for his and Robespierre’s relationship.

In February, Desmoulins released the 60 page long and influential pamphlet Jean [sic] Pierre Brissot démasqué, which acted both as a denounciation of Brissot, treated, if not yet as a full blown traitor and counterrevolutionary, at the very least as a fool and an object of ridicule, but also as a defence of ”my college friend” Robespierre. In Choosing Terror (2014), Marisa Linton writes that Robespierre ”may well have been involved in [the pamphlet’s] production,” probably basing this on the fact that we know he had had a hand in other of Desmoulins’ works. If we’re lacking any tangible evidence for this in the case of Jean-Pierre Brissot démasque, Desmoulins did himself nevertheless claim that ”[Robespierre] sees me as invulnurable after the proof of incorruptibility that I produced in my latest writing to Brissot” in a letter inserted in Journal de M. Suleau not long thereafter.

On April 20 1792, Brissot and his allies finally had their way as France declared war on Austria. The very same day Robespierre spoke at the Jacobin club, saying that, now that the dice had been rolled, he too was in favor of ”conquering Brabant, the Netherlands, Liège, Flanders, etc” while also stating that ”now is above all the time where we must supervise the executive and the constituted authorities.” Three days later, April 23, he asked the Jacobins to for the opportunity to share his thoughts on “a civil war plan presented to the National Assembly by one of its members” during an upcoming session. But before that could happen, on April 25, Brissot showed up at the Jacobins for the first time since January 20, when Dusaulx had made him and Robespierre embrace, and delivered a long speech where he defended himself against accusations that he would have nominated ministers, been allied with Lafayette and Condorcet and dined together with Narbonne and Madame de Staël, and, while not naming Robespierre by name, warned of ”agitators” seeking to divide the society in the time of war:

Their (aristocrats and agitators) conduct is the same; like the friends of the court, the agitators denounce and seek to divide the patriots; like the friends of the court, they cry out against war, when war is wanted by the majority of the patriots. [applauds]. Certainly, I will not imitate my adversaries' ease of slander, I will not rely on rumors that they are paid by the civil list; I will not denounce based on rumors that they have a secret committee to influence this Society; but I will say that they follow the same path as the supporters of civil war. I will say that, without a doubt, they do more harm to patriots. At what point do they come to divide this Society? At the moment when external war and internal war threatens us. Ah! Gentlemen, why, for several months, have one been trying to hijack the agenda here? The most important questions demand your attention. When all the Societies of the kingdom expect you to solicit a host of decrees favorable to the people, the sanction of which is easy in the present state of the ministry, you let slip an opportunity which perhaps will never arise again; It is time to occupy yourself with the discussion of the objects which interest the National Assembly, and which we want to make you lose sight of. I ask the Society to give explanations on this, and I conclude that, denouncing the denunciations that I have refuted, we move on to the agenda.

Right after this, Robespierre tried to take the floor for a point of order, but this request was refused and instead obtained by Guadet, who started denouncing Robespierre, calling him an ”imperial speaker” who would only talk about himself — ”M. Robespierre had promised to denounce a civil war plan formed within the National Assembly itself, I summon him to do so. I denounce a man who constantly puts his pride before public affairs, the position to which he was called. I denounce a man who, whether ambition or misfortune, has become the idol of the people.” Robespierre then took to the floor, declaring that ”my most ardent adversaries are not MM. Brissot and Guadet” but nevertheless requesting time to properly respond to them, something which he was given. Two days later, April 27 1792, he could deliver a speech by the name of Réponse de M. Robespierre, aux discours de MM. Brissot & Guadet du 25 avril 1792. Robespierre criticized both of the in the title named men, before nevertheless asking for peace — ”I only want to give you proof of moderation. I offer you peace on the only conditions that the friends of the homeland can accept. On these conditions I gladly forgive you for all your slanders.”

But just three days later, April 30, Robespierre complained to the Jacobins that the printed versions of the speeches Brissot and Guadet had held on the 25th matched badly with what they had actually said. His objection did however not gain any support from the president Lasource. A little more than a week later, in number 1003 (May 9 1792) of Patriote Français, we find an article titled ”On the war of M. Robespierre,” signed by Brissot and with the following content:

M. Robespierre continues to wage war against me, to denounce me, and to have me denounced to the Jacobins. I won't bother to answer him; this war is a scandal, and can become a source of calamity for liberty. Despite all the advantage that my adversaries give me over them, I consider it a real crime to continue it. The pain of true patriots, the joy of feuillans, and the interest of liberty, command my silence. Moreover, this war will fall by itself, I like to hope, because it is only about absurdities, and the people do not pay for absurdities for long. The trial between M. Robespierre and me will be judged by our common conduct. He deserted his post (as public prosecutor), without being able to give a single good reason; I am and will be faithful to mine. It is by faithfully fulfilling my duties, and not by eternally denouncing that I will respond to him. I expect him at the end of the legislature; I will produce my actions, we will examine his, and the public will be the judge of our patriotism. Agendo non dicendo was Cato's motto, and it is also mine.

A week after that, May 17, the first number of Robespierre’s new journal Le Defenseur de la Constutition was released. Just six pages in he takes a dig at Brissot and Condorcet, questioning their conduct in the aftermath of the Flight to Varennes and Massacre on Champ de Mars the year before. He remarks how these two men ”up until then known for your connections to La Fayette, and for your great moderation; long-time spectators of a semi-aristocratic club (the Society of 1789)” suddenly started waving the word ”republic” around, Condorcet by publishing the treatise De la République, ou Un roi est-il nécessaire à la conservation de la liberté ?, Brissot by founding a journal by the name of Le Républicain, while their friend Duchatêlet put up posters preaching the same ideals on all the walls of Paris. Robespierre considers the timing for this to have been counterproductive at best:

With all the spirits fermented; just as much as the word republic caused division among the patriots, gave the enemies of liberty the pretext they were looking for, to publish that there existed in France a party which conspired against the monarchy and the constitution. They hastened to attribute to this argument the firmness with which we defended in the Constituent Assembly the rights of national sovereignty against the monster of inviolability. It was with this word [republic] that they misled the majority of the Constituent Assembly; it is this word which was the signal for the carnage of peaceful citizens, slaughtered on the altar of the homeland, their whole crime having been to legally exercise the right of petition, enshrined by constitutional laws. Through this name the true friends of liberty were disguised as factious by perverse or ignorant citizens; and the revolution regressed by perhaps half a century.

He also brings up the fact that it was Brissot who had been the author behind the petition that asked for the the removal of the king ”at a time when the faction was only waiting for this pretext to slander the defenders of liberty” which was then presented on the Champ-de-Mars. While Robespierre is quick to underline he doesn’t think the intentions of Brissot or Condorcet were ”as guilty as the events were disastrous,” dismissing the thoughts of other ”patriots” who have suggested the two were secret allies of Lafayette, he also writes that ”I only want to see in their past conduct anything but impolitic sovereignity and profound ineptitude” and warns them that ”anyone who bases ambitious projects on new errors of the monarch, who dares to start civil war, at a time when foreign war is being provoked, would be the greatest enemy of the homeland.” The number also contained a copy of Robespierre’s Réponse to Brissot and Guadet from the month before.

In number 3 of Le Defenseur de la Constitution, which can be dated May 31, Robespierre also published an article by the name of Considerations regarding one of the main causes of our ills, where he attacked Brissot once again, designating him and Condorcet as the most famous leaders of a faction that also included ”other deputies of Bordeaux, such as MM. Guadet, Vergniaux, Gensonné...”(he justified going against his former stance to not focus on individuals by rhetorically asking ”how to reveal the factions, without naming Claudius, or Piso, or Caesar? How to fight the Triumpirs [sic], without attacking Octave, or Antoine or Lepidus?”). For 22 pages, Robespierre examined Brissot’s ”faction,” listing several charges and taking from it three truths:

The first [truth] is that, as members of the legislature, they have violated the rights of the nation, and labored mightily to imperil liberty; the second, that they have employed pernicious maneuvers to deprave the public spirit, and make it deviate towards the principles of despotism and aristocracy; the third, that they have done everything in their way to corrupt patriotic societies, and to make of these necessary channels of public education, instruments of intrigue and faction. […] Justice, common sense, civil and political liberty, you have sacrificed everything to the interest of your ambition and to cowardly vengeance; you had to complain about one of the denounced writings; and you were not ashamed to be accusers, judges and parties at the same time. With your heart full of cruel and vile passions, you invoked the public good and the sacred name of the laws.

Robespierre ends by declaring:

…it seems to me that it has now been proven that your patriotism was neither sustained nor true; that the scattered features, by which it seemed to announce itself, can well fool the eyes of unreflecting men, but not redeem the great faults that you have committed against the nation: that in general they do not relate to the public good and to the cause of the people; but to a system of intrigues, and to the interest of a party. I don't need to know whether it's the court or some other faction you serve; it is enough to see that it is not liberty. It is even clear that your conduct can only promote the triumph of the court; and that it is up to it to take advantage of it. If you are strangers to it, you are not so to any other party. However, any party is harmful to public affairs, and it is in the interest of the nation to stifle it, as it is the duty of each citizen to reveal it.

In the aftermath of the publication of both these numbers, sections with the title Why? (Pourquoi ?) appeared in Le Patriote François, the first in in number 1014 (May 20), the second in number 1032 (June 6). Each paragraph of these sections began with the mantra ”Why do M. Robespierre and his partisans [do this/that]. We don’t know, but [something that implies Robespierre has ulterior motives for doing it].” None of these articles are however signed, so there’s no way to know if Brissot was the author (I have my doubts that would be the case for at least the second article, since Brissot in that case would be referring to himself in third person). Throughout June 1792 we also find other numbers of Patriote Français where Robespierre gets mentioned in hostile terms (number 1035 (June 10), number 1036 (June 11), number 1042 (June 17)).

But on June 28 1792, Brissot and Robespierre were shortly reunited after the former had held a speech at the Jacobins denouncing Lafayette, who on the 16th had written an open letter to the Legislative Assembly where he had suggested shutting down all political clubs in order to retain order. 

M. Robespierre: When the danger to liberty is certain, when the enemy of liberty is well known, it is superfluous to speak of a reunion, because this feeling is in all hearts. As for me, I felt that it was in mine from the pleasure that the speech given this morning to the National Assembly by M. Guadet gave me, and from that which I have just experienced by hearing M. Brissot. (Applause.)

The journal La Rocambole des journaux, even claims Robespierre wanted to embrace Brissot once again:

I agree to this with all my heart, replies Robespierrot [sic], and to prove it to you: come here Brissot, let me embrace you; let us think only of crushing Lafayette, and of having him indicted; but first, each citizen must denigrate, tear apart, defame this conspirator with all his power so that before being judged by the national high tribunal, he is condemned in public opinion.

Of course, the reunion didn’t last for long, already a month later, July 29, Robespierre did for the first time openly show his support for overthrowing the king and the Legislative Assembly and replacing them with a convention tasked with carrying out major changes. He also argued that the selfdenying decree he had put forward a year earlier be used again, barring the members of the Legislative Assembly (obviously including Brissot) from sitting in the Convention. The next day, July 30, Le Courrier du Midi reported the following:

The club of 300 legislators was held today, in the former Jacobin barracks, near the club of friends of the constitution. Mr. Isnard has just caused a major split there, by declaring that he was going to denounce MM. Antoine and Roberspierre [sic], former constituent deputies. The latter had declared on the 30th [sic] that the current legislature was incapable of saving national sovereignty, and in the hands of intriguing legislators. Roberspierre [sic] spoke with rare energy; and the club ordered the printing of his speech, fortunately improvised. Mr. Isnard is therefore awaiting this civic harangue, to make his denunciation, tending to send the two constituents to the high court of Orléans: his motion was supported by the tartuffe Brissot, who showed the same commitment. Patriotic deputies left the insidious session and tore up their cards; they came to reveal this cowardly plot to the Jacobins; and the publicity of this uncivil act will undoubtedly cause Isnard and Brissot's project to fail.

During his trial a year later, Brissot claimed to not remember this incident.  Regardless, the day right after it, August 1 1792, it was spoken of at length at the Jacobins, with energic attacks being made against Brissot. Robespierre was present at the session but chose not to mention Brissot or Isnard, confining himself to repeating his wish of convening a national convention meant to last for a year. ”This effective way to keep all intriguers away from this constituent assembly seems to this speaker sufficient to save the homeland from the dangers that it owes only to weakness and intrigue.”

The very same day, news of the Brunswick Manifesto begun to sweep through Paris, and before the Brissot and Isnard controversy could get any too drastic follow-ups, it was overshadowed by the Insurrection of August 10 which brought and end to the Legislative Assembly. Two days after the insurrection, August 12, Robespierre began to serve on the Paris Commune. On September 2, during the end of which the so called September massacres began, he is recorded to have done the following during the evening session of said commune: 

MM. Billaud-Varenne and Robespierre, developing their civic feelings, paint the deep pain they feel over the current state of France. They denounce to the General Council a plot in favor of the Duke of Brunswick, whom a powerful party wants to bring to the throne of the French.

The next day, Brissot could report the following:

Yesterday, Sunday, I, as well as parts of the deputies of the Gironde, and other equally virtuous men, was denounced at the Paris Commune. We were accused of wishing to hand over France to the Duke of Brunswick, of having received millions from them, and of having concerted ourselves to go to England to save ourselves. Citizens, I was denounced at ten o'clock in the evening, and at the same time they were slaughtering in the prisons… This morning, around seven o'clock, three commissioners of the Commune came to my house… for three hours, they examined, with all possible care, all my papers.

If this had been a naked attempt to get Brissot murdered in prison is hard to know for sure. Historians willing to give Robespierre the benefit of the doubt have suggested he may not have learned of the massacres yet when denouncing Brissot. Though I wouldn’t say his case is much helped by the fact that, when explaining his actions during and attitude towards the massacres in a speech held November 5 1792, he denied he had even been present at the Commune the days before and during them (which is obviously false) as opposed to admitting he had been there and said what he’d said, while asseverating he had not had any evil intentions…

In his Discours de Jérôme Pétion sur l’accusation intentée contre Maximilien Robespierre (November 5 1792) Pétion recounts the following conversation between him and Robespierre which took place just one day after Brissot’s house was searched, and where Robespierre confirms his suspicions regarding Brissot having connections to Brunswick. Like Brissot one year earlier, Pétion too underlines that no personal relationship existed between the latter and Robespierre:

The surveillance Committee launched an arrest warrant against Minister Roland; it was the 4th (September), and the massacres were still going on. Danton was informed of it, he came to the town hall, he was with Robespierre. […] I had an explanation with Robespierre, it was very lively. I still made him face the reproaches that friendship tempered in his absence, I told him: ”Robespierre, you are doing a lot of harm; your denunciations, your alarms, your hatreds, your suspicions, they agitate the people; explain yourself; do you have any facts? do you have proof? I fight with you; I only love the truth; I only want liberty.  ”You allow yourself to be surrounded,” [he replied], ”you allow yourself to be warned. You are disposed against me, you see my enemies every day; you see Brissot and his party.” ”You are mistaken, Robespierre; no one is more on guard than I against prejudices, and judges with more coolness, men and things. You’re right, I see Brissot, however rarely, but you don’t know him, and I know him since his childhood. I have seen him in those moments when the whole soul shows itself; where one abandons oneself without reservation to friendship, to trust: I know his disinterestedness; I know these principles, I assure you that they are pure; those who make him a party leader do not have the slightest idea of ​​his character; he has lights and knowledge; but he has neither the reserve, nor the dissimulation, nor these catchy forms, nor this spirit of consistency which constitutes a party leader, and what will surprise you is that, far from leading others, he is very easy to abuse.” Robespierre insisted, but confined himself to generalities.  ”Allow us to explain ourselves, I told him, tell me frankly what’s on your mind, what it is you know.” ”Well!” he replied, ”I believe that Brissot is with Brunswick.”  ”What mistake is yours!” I exclaimed. ”It is truly madness; this is how your imagination leads you astray: wouldn't Brunswick be the first to cut his head off? Brissot is not mad enough to doubt it: which of us can seriously capitulate! which of us does not risk his life! Let us banish unjust mistrust.” Danton became entangled in the colloquy, saying that this was not the time for arguments; that it was necessary to have all these explanations after the expulsion of the enemies; that this decisive object alone should occupy all good citizens. 

In Histoire générale et impartiale des erreurs, des fautes et des crimes commis pendant la Révolution française (1797) Louis Marie Prudhomme also claimed that, on September 3, Théophile Mandar proposed creating a dictatorship in order to stop the massacres to Pétion and Robespierre. Robespierre then cried out: ”Be aware! Brissot would become dictator!” ”O Robespierre,” Mandar said to him, ”it is not the dictatorship that you fear, it is not the homeland that you love: it is Brissot that you hate.” ”I hate dictatorship and I hate Brissot!”

A little more than two weeks later, September 21, the first session of the National Convention was held. Robespierre and Brissot had both been elected deputies, the former representing Paris, the latter Eure-et-Loi. In the pamphlet J. P. Brissot, député à la Convention nationale, à tous les républicains de France; sur la société des Jacobins de Paris, released less than a month later, Brissot writes that before the opening of said Convention, Danton, in the hopes of sorting out their differences, organized a meeting between the three. But as might be expected, it didn’t bear any fruit…

Before the opening of the National Convention, Danton, trying to bring together what he called the parties, sought me out, and I did not refuse explanations, because I have always had a horror of divisions. I attested to the consideration that I for a long time had held for Robespierre and his faction, although constantly harassed by them. Danton asked me some questions about my republican doctrine; he feared, he said with Robespierre, that I wanted to establish a federative republic, that this was the opinion of Gironde. I reassured him. Robespierre was informed of this, and Robespierre continued to spread the word that I wanted a federal republic.

Just two days after the opening of the Convention, September 23 Chabot came to the Jacobins and announced that in number 1140 of Patriote Français, released the very same day, ”Brissot or his croupier said […] that the Convention appeared to be divided into two distinct parties; one of which is a disorganizing party. This seems to me to be one of the intrigues that people play to keep the deputies sent from the departments to the Convention away from the Jacobins: they will be told that it is in this Society that this disorganizing party resides. […] I therefore denounce this intrigue that seems to me to have been made in order to depopularize Danton, Robespierre and Collot, and I say that, if Brissot does not explain this article in his journal, he is the biggest of scoundrels.” When Brissot hadn’t yet appeared to give an explanation on October 10, the jacobins struck him from their list of members, and other ”girondins” followed suit the very same month.

On September 25, a stormy session played out between girondins and montagnards within the newly opened Convention (as would be the case for almost every session the following time as well), that among other things included Osselin claiming that ”a party of Robespierre” existed within the Convention, Robespierre denying this to be true, saying that ”it was when I loudly demanded the dismissal of Lafayette before the war, that it was said, in these public journals, that I had had conferences with the queen, with Lamballe, and that my resignation as public prosecutor was the result of this infamous transaction; and it was at the same time that a patriotic but inconsiderate writer (Brissot) accused me of aspiring to dictatorship: and it was at the moment when the National Convention was about to begin its work that these miserable imputations were reproduced,” Brissot asking what right there is for issuing arrest warrants against deputies, and Verguiaux developing on this by accusing Robespierre of having implicated him, Brissot, Ducos, Guadet, Condorcet and Lasource in the complot favorable to the duke of Brunswick denounced at the commune on September 2.

On October 29 1792 Brissot released the pamphlet J. P. Brissot, député à la Convention nationale, à tous les républicains de France ; sur la société des Jacobins de Paris where he, after having accused Robespierre of secretly working with the Austrian committee during the Legislative Assembly and hiding out during the Insurrection of August 10, once again came back to what the latter had been up to during September 2:

Robespierre accused me, at the rostrum of the Paris Commune, of having sold France to Brunswick. He had, he said, proof, striking documents. He promised to show them. Readers, do you want to know this striking evidence? Here it is: I got it from Pétion and Danton, to whom Robespierre did not blush to entrust it. Brunswick, he said, would not have entered France if he had not had a deal with the Gironde faction and me to deliver Paris to him. And where was this deal? In Robespierre's head. Without doubt I could refute, with a thousand arguments, this profoundly stupid accusation, were it not profoundly atrocious. I could retort, with advantage, against Robespierre, this pleasant logic, and prove to him, perhaps, with more plausibility that he himself and his accomplices were in concert with the Prussians; but disdaining such an easy victory, I move on to other considerations. And, I ask my readers, what idea should one form of a man who, on a hypothesis, on a reverie, publicly dishonors representatives of the nation, already surrounded by slander and daggers; who delivers them to the people. What will I say to the brigards who took on the name of the people; to the brigards ready to strike, at the sole signal of the first slanderer who presented himself. And it was on September 2 that Robespierre resounded with this slander! It was the day when the surveillance committee, dripping with blood, issued arrest warrants, or rather massacre warrants, against the deputies of Gironde and against me! It was the day when the scoundrels, who triumphed in Paris, piled up their victims at the Abbaye prison, because they had made the Abbaye a butchery, a tomb for their victims...! Yes, Robespierre was obviously either a monster, or the imbecile instrument of monsters. He was accused of aspiring to dictatorship, to the tribunate. His conduct would seem to prove it, if the mediocrity of his means, if the terror of death, which constantly surrounds him, did not keep him from this perilous post: a dictator must include among his risks that of a violent death; and to brave death, you need some courage. Whatever his secret intentions, when I remember all the circumstances which preceded, accompanied or followed the awful day of September 2 [he then spends two pages listing these circumstances] I cannot help but believe that this tragedy was divided into two very different acts; that the massacre of the prisoners was only an accessory to the grand plan; that it covered and was to bring about the execution of a conspiracy formed against the National Assembly, the ministry and the most intrepid defenders of liberty; that its authors lacked only the courage to execute it, and to mount the tribunate on the corpses of Rolland, Guadet, Vergniaux, Gensonné, etc. and on mine... […] ”I know it,” said Robespierre naively one day to a deputy from Gironde who accused him of having ordered the assassinations. ”I know, that neither you nor your friends would have had an aristocrat assassinated.” This trait paints the spirit of the band.

The next part in the reblog.

[minecraftbookshelf]

Marriage of State AU Character Designs: The Mad King of Mezalea

Joel actually has three major looks through the course of the AU; Prince of Mezalea, Trophy Husband, and King Joel, with the subcategories of "armor" for each.

They all have the same base design of "human", differing by (apparent) age and general sense of style.

Some Joel Skins to start us off and provide the base we're working off of, and also the Mezalean banner because color pallet

And also, because it is actually relevant, (bear with me here) some samples of Mezalean architecture.

The Matral Palace and the Villager area.

Based off of Joel's final skin, the vibe is kind of "Victorian military dress uniform" however there is something very, very important to take into consideration from a worldbuilding perspective.

The Mesa is a warm weather biome. Its a colorful desert. Which means high temperatures during the day and cold at night. So tight-fitting, thick fabrics in a Victorian style would be incredibly impractical.

So we turn to the second possible source for fashion inspiration: The architecture, which gives mostly Byzantine vibes.

So what would Byzantine clothing look like, especially for nobility?

First off, taking into account that the Byzantine Empire lasted for approximately a thousand years and, naturally, underwent some dramatic changes in clothing style during that time, we'll pick a specific vibe out of the options. I settled on a bit of a mix between Early Byzantine (think the Theodora Mosaic shown below) and Middle Byzantine (see the mosaic of Emperor Constantine IX below)

And here are just some screenshots from my pintrest board for Mezalea and Mezalean!Joel, because if I put all these on here separately I'll hit the image limit too soon.

(General disclaimer: yes, Pintrest has an art theft problem, yes Pintrest is much harder to effectively use now due to the pervasiveness of ads on everything, no I don't use it for like, formal things. It remains one of the best ways to collect visual references and figuring out The Vibes)

(Yes, we get to go full Material Gworl vibes for the Mezalean King, as is only right and proper.)

General characteristics I'm adopting here for Mezalean clothing:

Brocade (and bejeweled) kaftan/kaftan-esque outer layer. This is a formal wear thing, and is absolutely a "showing off the wealth" power move.

Lots of Big Chunky Colorful Jewelry

I don't know what it's actual name is, but that general style of having jeweled tassel-like things hanging from the front sides of the crown/headdress.

Light-weight and loose fitting under-layers.

And of course, bright colors.

Prince Joel: Before he became part of the main cast in an epic fantasy adventure spanning several hundreds of years and an entire continent (and the adjacent ocean) Joel was the youngest of three princes with two older brothers who were both married and had kids.

Which is to say, it did not look like he would ever be the king.

His role in the kingdom was very much that of an ambassador to and direct connection to their people. He spent a lot of time working on fishing boats and in the mines and quarries. While he did receive a standard royal education on things like diplomacy and combat, international interactions were not his focus at all, much more involved in the day to day operations of his own home. (And yes, that is a very vital aspect of the idea of "royalty" in general, supposedly, and that being a particular point of Joel's upbringing will make more sense when I get around to writing and posting the post about how royalty functions in the Empires. tldr; its related to the whole thing where Pixlriffs accidentally redefined "war")

Basically, Prince Joel = the first skin, the simple green one. He's wearing more lightweight, practical clothes that allow him to engage in physically demanding dirty work without costing a fortune every day. He still dresses up for formal events, but he doesn't even attend all of those and he is far from a daily sight in court.

Trophy Husband: For a couple hundred years, Joel didn't live in Mezalea. Instead, he was one half of the chronological first arranged marriage in the "au in which all the marriages are arranged" situation. And this one was the one that most resembles the set-up of a generic "period" bodice-ripper novel (though that is not how it played out ultimately, for the parties involved, despite the romance that does happen.)

Basically, this is his War Prize Era. In which Lizzie won a husband in combat and then didn't really know what to do with him.

During this time period, Joel mostly wore ocean styled clothing, though during formal occasions he would wear a notable amount of Mezalean accessories, that were part and parcel of the treaty with him. (I'm trying so hard not to derail this into just a breakdown of the events of the Joel & Lizzie arc of the au im trying so hard)

He did tend to mix Oceanic and Mezalean clothing, due in part to Oceanic clothing being primarily designed for underwater wear, while he lived above the surface, finding the balance of practicality and appearances demanded by the political nature of his existence at the time. (Also a personal comfort thing as Mezalean clothing tended to afford more skin coverage and also had shoes) Once he and Lizzie were more comfortable both in the world and with each other he had more opportunities for personalization and tended towards Mezalean styles in oceanic colors. He did develop a significant appreciation for the Oceanic idea of skin-tight under-layers for water travel.

King Joel: He did end up back in Mezalea as king, which is when we hit the style closest to the second skin, which mostly for this is really an indicator of color scheme. Formally, he is now wearing the full Kaftan and Jewelry look, day to day its more of "colorful, simple, and lightweight" because he still is very active in the day to day commerce of his empire. He does usually wear significantly more jewelry than he did as a prince, he grew a taste for it during his trophy husband era XD. The details of his day-to-day wear are also fancier. finer fabrics, more embroidery, brocade hems, etc.

Most of his earrings are gifts from Lizzie, some in Oceanic colors, some in Mezalean, but all with little chips of prismarine to remind him of her even when she can't be there.

Armor: Joel's armor preferences are simple netherite plate. He also does have a ceremonial trident, as a member of the Oceanic royal family. His is gold-plated.

-

art

Lizzie || Jimmy ||

AU Masterpost

[meganechan05]

I KEEP HAVING KINGOHGER THOUGHTS!!!

(Spoilers ahead!)

So here's what we know about the Royal Armament programs.

The Ohger Calibur ZERO has existed for over 2000 years and has always been in the Hastie's possession. Its way of activation is a blood sample from the bloodline.

Jeramie's KumonoSlayer belonged to his father which also meant that his dad was able to transform into SpiderKumonos as well.

Yanma and N'kosopa developed the OhgerCaliburs by basing them off of ZERO but never got the Ohgai Busou programming done until Yanma studied the Shugods and Calibur. (HimeRita had the Caliburs when they took the throne; long before Yanma touched one)

Rhyniol even noted after everyone transformed that they are nostalgic forms. (Tho I'm not sure if he's specifically talking about King KuwagataOhger, but considering what I said about Jeramie, it's possible he could've seen the same for the others as well)

Now Chikyuu had 6 Heroes. 5 of which became Kings while one was "banished". Considering ZERO was made specifically for the Hastie bloodline and the same for the KumonoSlayer, surely the other heroes would've had their own weapons with their own Ohgai Busou programming. The only thing that separates them from the other two would possibly be that their weapons were destroyed during the war which prevented them from passing on their weapon compared to the other two.

I don't know when exactly the Caliburs were made before they got the Armament programming, but I do know it was during the time when the key to activating ZERO was lost which was why it has the beetle horn and a way to unite the five Kingdoms.

But the biggest question I have is what kind of weapon did the other 4 Kings have? Were they also blades like ZERO and KumonoSlayer? Or were they weapons that inspired the development of the King's Weapon that came with 5 distinct Modes?

Sword (ZERO/Shugoddom)

Gun (N'kosopa)

Sickle (Ishabana)

Bow (Gokkan)

Claw (Toufu)

And while Racles is able to use all 5 Modes, the other Kings solely rely on the modes they are primarily seen using.

But what about the mural that shows the 5 Heroes with swords?

Well that's the thing. Jeramie was the one who wrote the legend of KingOhger, not his father. It's possible he either didn't know about the different weapons or he simply used swords to make drawing easier and to fit the idea and the motif of the season's team.

Then again, I don't know how much of the 6 Heroes were completely thought out considering we never met the rest of the original team. All I know is that there is a lot to think about and the possibility on why Kings of each country were raised to fight with a specific weapon.