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lewis-winters · 1 year

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Day 9: Role Reversal

part of my OC-tober 2022 (that's prolly going to bleed into 2023)! This takes place in the late 1920s, early 1930s, when they were much younger than in the original timeline of People Like Us and in their "we're still frenemies (more friends, tho) but I'm also secretly in love with you" era. Truthfully, I just wanted to write about Teddy in his Female Impersonator/Drag Queen get up. Teddy Davies and Lucas Samsa belong to @hellofanidea! I hope I did them justice.

tw: period typical homo/queer/transphobia, use of the f-slur maliciously, and sexual harassment (a nameless, third party being a little too pushy)

“Oh my,” Teddy swoons as he enters the tiny dressing room, going so far as to sweep a hand up to his cheek in delighted surprise, his painted lips, perfectly coifed wig, carefully made-up face, and silk green gown completing his homage to every Hollywood starlet of the silver screen. “My hero!”

Much to Lucas’ annoyance, Amy and Mags laugh.

“Wounded in battle, and all for you, pretty girl!” Mags crows, taking Lucas’ injured hand and waving it in the air, as if to prove a point. “Look at this delicate face—poor thing’s going to be black and blue tomorrow.”

“Aww,” Amy sighs, faux-concerned and loving every second of this, the bastard. “What’s yer momma gonna say, Lulu? She’ll throw a fit.”

“And yer daddy’s gonna shake yer hand, protectin’ yer girl like that!” Mags pitches in, taking Lucas’ chin to wiggle it in that condescending way she does, when she likes to lord her height, her broadness, her manliness, over his slighter, shorter, and paler frame. Boyish mannerisms made even more boyish by her male impersonator get up, her clothes padded and square in all the right places, the feminine curves she loudly denies she doesn’t have, hidden expertly beneath the layers of what should have been an ill-fitting suit. Handsome, in all aspects except personality, at the present moment, reminding Lucas too keenly of those crass and snarky boys in school he’s always tried to avoid, when he was a kid.

The unwanted reminder sours what’s left of his mood, good or not, and he sharply shrugs out of Mags’ hold with a damning tsk. “Fuck off,” he spits.

It surprises them all.

All except Teddy. “Alright,” he says, clapping his hands together like a chiding mother after a stretch of awkward silence. “You’re both on in five minutes.”

Amy and Mags file out quickly at his cue, too eager to follow Teddy’s directions if it means that it’ll get them away from a grumpy Lucas as fast as possible. A small part of him still largely unaffected by his anger cringes inwardly at his behavior, aware that this was no way his parents raised him to treat his friends, much less ones as loyal as Amy and Mags. But the bigger part of him is still fuming over his current predicament, so he stays silent as Teddy carefully closes the door after them.

And continues to stay silent as Teddy picks his way through the messy dressing room to reach Lucas at the far end, sitting up on one of the rickety desks with a cold towel pressed to his rapidly swelling lower lip. For once, the golden-haired, green-eyed bastard is respecting his quiet, the carefully blank expression he keeps on his face seemingly serving as a muzzle over all those buzzing thoughts whizzing around behind his eyes. Lucas can see them, even in the split second it took for Teddy to accidentally meet his eyes, then rapidly look away, before diligently checking Lucas over like he has a lick of a clue what he’s doing, humming both affirmatively and negatively at what he finds. It’s unnerving to see him this artificially still, not when moments ago he’d been sparking and flaring like a candle flame, dancing and singing amongst the Aurora’s patrons’ tables, skirt swishing, heels tapping, bare shoulder shimmying to the music, exuding so much life Lucas had felt like his very breath was being squeezed out of his body.

“What? What do you want to say?” Lucas snaps, feeling all kinds of sharp all of a sudden. “I can see you holding your tongue.”

“And here I thought you liked me quiet?” Teddy gently teases, smiling slightly even when Lucas sends him a withering glare. It gets quiet again for a moment, but the careful mask has since slipped, enough for the smile to stay, and despite himself, Lucas softens. Just a bit.

“Thank you,” Teddy says, finally looking up to meet Lucas’ gaze with eyes so clear, so green. “I could handle myself but… thank you.”

Swallowing hard, Lucas nods, jerkily. “I know,” is all he can bring himself to say. Because he does know; even dressed the way he was, the anti-thesis to a man’s man, an open target for anyone and everyone, Lucas knows Teddy could handle himself. He’s Teddy, and Teddy is big. Larger than life, really. Slight in some places, with his tapered waist and long, pianist fingers, but tall and broad shouldered, with a wit sharper than any knife and a confidence so overwhelming, people couldn’t help but be drawn to him, in all the worst and best ways. Teddy Davies has known all his life that he was handsome, that he was beautiful, intelligent, and adored, and it informed the way he moves through the world more than anything else, no matter how much he denies that it has.

Men like Teddy were made to be looked at—the ideal All-American Jock, the Golden Boy, meant to inspire all those other men around him to rise and conquer; whilst secretly wishing his downfall with all the pitch-black jealousy hidden in the darkest corners of their hearts. At first his perpetual presence in the spotlight came off as self-absorbed and vain to Lucas, but the longer he knew him, the more Lucas came to understand that, for a queer who likes to wear women’s clothes and dance all weekend through, the spotlight was the most terrifying, loneliest place to be.

Yet in it he remained. Made it home, conducted the eyes that ogled him with a commanding hand and a toss of his pretty head, and made himself even more seen. Shameless. Larger than life. Daring them all: Look all you want. You won’t like what you see, but I don’t care. I’m not going to change.

Teddy was the bravest person Lucas knew.

Still, that doesn’t mean he has to be the loneliest, too. “He clipped you,” Lucas says, lifting his hand to touch the part of Teddy’s sleeve that had ripped upon contact with the rowdy man’s signet ring, when Lucas had pulled him out of the path of the punch. Teddy meets him half-way, shaking his head.

“Hey, let me be doctor, now,” he says, soothingly, guiding Lucas’ hand down to his lap. “I have to say, it’s odd to be on the other side this time.”

Yes, because on top of being brave, Teddy was righteous, too. Knowing he’s beautiful and handsome, also comes with the price of knowing that, to others, he always appeared to be in the position of right. The world, collectively, was lucky Mrs Davies had known what values to drill into her boy to make him as kind as he was, using whatever authority that’s been carelessly thrust unto him in the best ways he could. Truly, this isn’t his first bar fight with a man who has no understanding of the word no, and this isn’t the first time Lucas has silently worried over bruises that marred his skin, either.

But this was perhaps the first time Lucas has ever seen Teddy shrink. Just for a split second, so minuscule that nobody else saw it—but Lucas had. Seen the slight flinch, the twitch of his lip into an upset frown, when that man, that dreadful man, had shoved at him and called him all sorts of terrible things, all for getting in the way of his unwelcome advances on one of their patrons.

“Faggot,” he’d sneered and the word rung so loud in everyone’s ears, and Teddy’s face had fallen, and all Lucas could see was red.

He had swung first.

“I wasn’t joking,” Teddy tells him now, voice still quiet, but teeming with a gratefulness and a bit of awe. His eyes twinkled. “You really were a hero down there.”

He wasn’t, not quite as practiced in the art of brawling as Teddy was, but between the two of them they’d managed to get the unruly gentleman flat on his back in two minutes.

Mrs Davies had been quite annoyed at her fairy of a son and his quiet friend (as she called them, affectionately) stirring up quite a storm, but the vindicated curl of her lip that appeared when some of their burlier patrons came to toss the man on the street, was enough for Teddy, who’d apologized for the commotion with a small, cheeky smile. All they’d gotten was a swat to both their backsides and an order to put Lucas’ face on ice.

And now here they were.

Lucas didn’t feel like a hero. But he wasn’t going to tell Teddy that. He just grunts, instead. “Sure.”

Teddy smiles, and that’s the end of that conversation. The next few minutes are spent back in blissful silence, with Teddy puttering around with a couple of rags to catch the melting ice that drips from Lucas’ fist and face, even going so far as to wipe at his split lip with one of them, clearing away the blood and debris with a gentleness Lucas knew he was capable of, but has never experienced himself. This close, Lucas can count his lashes, darkened significantly with mascara, curled and fluttering delicately against his rouged-up cheek. Count the freckles he didn’t quite cover with his make-up, the ghost of vast constellations peaking just so behind the fine dusting of perfumed powder. See the part in his bangs where his wig cap peaks out, a flesh-colored net that should break the illusion, but completes the picture, instead. Carves out a new Teddy that Lucas has never had the privilege to see up close.

Blonde bombshell Teddy Davies, more beautiful than any Hollywood starlet. Everything about him is delicate. Delicate and girlish and pretty, and it takes all of Lucas’ self-control not to reach out and touch. Just to check that it’s all real, and that this Teddy had truly been on stage just an hour ago, singing and charming all the men who hollered for more at his feet.

That this Teddy is before him now, fluttering his lashes at Lucas like a practiced coquette. “There you go,” he says with a giggle. “My hero.”

Lucas colors. “Shut up.”

“No, really!” Teddy laughs with a purr, patting Lucas’ uninjured cheek. “So butch! The second you came in; I picked you out of the crowd immediately.”

For some reason, he feels strangely pleased by that. “Yeah?”

“Yes, you with your little suspenders and that curly bed o’ hair? Oh, you had all my girls swooning. I was so jealous,” Teddy says, flouncing about a bit more now, fidgeting nervously with his hair and reapplying his lipstick in front of the nearest boudoir, as if his words have finally fed him the energy he’d lost, scuffling on the bar room floor in his nicest dress. “I mean, I may be old news, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to be upstaged by the new fairy in town.”

“So sorry to have distracted your adoring audience.”

“Truly, I require financial compensation.”

“Does it have to be financial?”

“I could be persuaded to a drink.”

“Alright. But,” Lucas says, grinning. “You have to be on my arm the whole night.”

“Oh, my,” Teddy gasps. If he was blushing, it would have been impossible to see under all that make-up. Lucas takes it as a win, though, when he reaches up to push a bit of lose hair back into place behind his ear, eyes briefly turning away to assess the state of the floor. “Well, if the gentleman insists.”

“I do.”

They smile at each other. “I wish you’d told me you were coming,” Teddy says, so quiet it could have been a whisper. As if admitting it too loudly would take away the weight behind his words.

Lucas hears it. All of it. “I didn’t think you’d appreciated it.”

Teddy scoffs. “I would’ve loved it,” he says, sincerely. “In fact, if I knew you were there, I would’ve performed better.”

A part of him wonders if Teddy could possibly do anything to top that performance, with all its bells and whistles and… piano humping. Just thinking back on it has Lucas’ head spinning, and he knows, if Teddy put his mind to it, he could make even a grand show like that look like a carny attraction at a subpar county fair. “I don’t think so.”

“No, truly,” Teddy laughs, so painfully earnest, his face completely softens into that self-deprecating look he gets with that pretty flush that travels all the way from his forehead down to his powdered neck. Lucas couldn’t help but stare. “It’s always easier when I know I have someone I have to impress.”

“You always impress me,” Lucas says, surprising himself with his honesty. “I am always impressed by you.”

Teddy stops. Fully stops, freezing in place once again and taking with him the collective breath of the world—or maybe just Lucas’, who can’t do anything to deny how beautiful he finds Teddy in this moment, staring at him with those green eyes and those full lips parted in a gasp, a tentative openness to him akin to wondrous hope.

The bravest, loneliest and most beautiful girl in the world.

Then, Teddy laughs, half-delighted, half-mocking. “Aww.”

Lucas really doesn’t know what he expected. “Shut up, Davies.”

“Now don’t start.” Teddy coos, reaching out to ruffle his hair and dance just right out of the way of Lucas’ playful swipe. “You adore me, you really do! Did you hear that world? Lucas Samsa adores me!”

Lucas doesn't deny it. But he does throw a soaking wet rag at Teddy's face to hide the fact, and lets the moment quietly slip away in the wake of Teddy's subsequent rant about his ruined make-up.

#stella's oc-tober 2022 #teddy davies #lucas samsa #people like us #what is it with me and injured characters being given first aid #lucas: teddy's not my girl #also lucas: *punches someone for insulting teddy aka his girl*#lucas my angery boy #he isn't questioning his sexuality he's questioning why he loves this idiot so much #lucas: unfortunately the primadonna currently humping the piano is the love of my life #not that he's ever going to admit it at this point in time #teddy as theodosia was so much fun to write she's a bitch she's a lover she's a child she's a mother she's a sinner she's a saint #she does not feel ashamed #i need more OCs who are also drag queens they're so much fucking fun #'stella?' you may ask. 'is teddy wearing the green dress from the movie atonement?'#why yes. yes he is.#and i hope ya'll APPRECIATE IT #i love gender fuckery #estrella_marie

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allfortheslay25 · 2 months

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Happy birthday Kevin 🎉 2/22

He asked for no pickles☝️

Some Kevin hc of mine

Doesn’t like his food to touch

Shaved a slit into his eyebrow cuz he thought it was cool and it never grew back

Got his freckles/moles from his mom

Likes watermelon cuz it’s not too sweet

When talking about his mom or Ireland, he gets a bit of an accent

Bi and Ace

Gets a pet dog after Palmetto (he misses his running buddy aka Neil)

On the spectrum

Has found all of the Foxes attractive

Facial hair makes him look like Wymack

Very interested in historical mysteries (specifically Theodosia Burr)

Lana Del Ray energy (I cannot explain this)

His type is ‘murderous and pissed off’ and Jeremy Knox

Would love Six the Musical not cuz of accuracy but cuz queens

Platonically loves Neil

Lots of face and hair routines

Has wavy hair but styles it to be straighter

Cares about his clothes

Likes competitive games

Really sweet with fans

Doesn’t want to get married no matter how much he loves his partner

Goes crazy for trivia

Listens to music on his runs

Likes his coffee black

Can’t drive

#aftg #all for the game #art #fanart #Kevin day #Twinyards #andrew minyard #Aaron Minyard #kevaaron

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niminarissa · 2 years

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I bumped into this gem in my photos

#the royal masquerade #theodosia was one of the best dumb characters pb has created #such a queen ✨#her pawn was also a great addition #I miss this book and my cute little fox 🦊

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untilnextchapter · 9 months

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Masterlist : Criminal Minds

Criminal Minds

Spencer Reid x Reader

* = Smut (Minors DNI) II Beware of the TW please

Basically anything from @imagining-in-the-margins but here my very favourites:

Different dialects (Fem!Autistic!Reader. Spencer is trying to tell Reader he likes her, but it feels like they speak entirely different languages.)

Impromptu (Fem!Reader learns some shocking news when a case lands her in the hospital.)

Fairytales (Dad!Spencer comes home to his very tired wife and even more tired child who refused to go to bed without a bedtime story from their dad.)

Growing Pains (Spencer finds unfamiliar lingerie in the laundry. When he confronts his wife, he learns it belongs to their teenage daughter.)

From @fortheloveofwonderland (check her whole masterlist, you won't be disappointed):

A Memory Locked in the Heart (Fem!Reader, eighteen years ago you met a boy named Spencer Reid whilst visiting your mother at Bennington Sanitorium. This time you are meeting under entirely different circumstances; across the table of an interrogation room.)

Mothers Daughter (fem! single mom! Reader, your mother was a keeper of secrets. She kept them so well, for so long she even managed to keep them hidden from herself. And now you find yourself face to face with the love of your life after ten years, you find yourself starting to wonder if you are your mothers daughter after all. Reunion Challenge)

We continue with the lovely @foxy-eva (all her masterlist is worth the checking, just go go~):

Reflections (Fem! Reader, the kindness Spencer Reid shows to a child seems to impress Fem!Reader a little too much)

Lipstick Stains * (Fem!Reader, the shade of your new lipstick is too much for Spencer to handle)

Miscellaneous Authors:

Any Other Weigh @reidsaurora (Fem!Reader, a small collection of stories about the times Spencer told Y/N about how big their baby was getting every week)

The Lanky Guy in Room 603 @samuel-de-champagne-problems (Fem!Reader, Meeting in the delivery room with midwife Y/N)

A Trip to Remember @dr-spencer-reids-queen (Mermaid!Reader, For three thousand years, you’ve known only what the lake has to offer you. No human contact for three thousand years, yet, always being surrounded by them. Everything changes when you meet Spencer Reid)

Dear Theodosia @violetrainbow412-blog (Fem!Reader, Dad!Spencer stays one afternoon to care for your three-month-old twins and reflects on how much he loves them)

Darling & Dandelion @eideticmemory (Fem!Reader, Spencer is a lot of things to you. Your baby daddy, your lover, your best friend, and a massive pain in your ass)

Friends to lovers with Spencer @gtgbabie0 (Fem!Reader, Spencer needs comfort)

BFF @babymetaldoll (Fem!Reader, Spencer meets his best friend from school after 12 years apart)

Wife @specialagentlokitty (Autistic!Reader, Spencer Reid with a wife who is autistic and when she comes to visit the team doesn’t know what to do until Reid comes and finds her sitting at his desk)

10 Days @boldlyvoid (Fem!Reader, it's Spencer's first father's day and he's extremely emotional about the little love of his life that he's only just met. he spends the day with his baby, Edwin, and his wife, crying and happy about how wonderful new little lives are)

Here for you @weird-is-life (Fem!Reader, 4 times you take care of Spencer and one time he takes care of you)

[Not named] @tinyluvs (Fem!Reader, Being Spencer’s girlfriend and meeting the team for the first time)

[Not named] @ddejavvu (GN!Reader, Spencer Reid and s/o who bites their nails)

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Basically check all the masterlist of @specialagentlokitty but here are my favourites Aaron ones:

Please help me (Teen!Reader, Reader has abusive parents and Hotch and reader are neighbors and reader asks Hotch for help knowing he’s an FBI agent) TW: Abusive Parents

Safe (Child!Reader, Aaron rescues her from a kidnapping but then refuses to leave her side at the hospital)

As slow as you need (Fem!Reader, Hotch x reader where reader flinches) TW: Mentions of abusive ex

Miscellaneous Authors:

Can't Lose You @reidsaurora (Fem!Reader, When Hotch gets attacked during a case and ends up in the hospital, Y/N realizes she can't lose him without telling him about her feelings)

Derek Morgan x Reader

The first time @specialagentlokitty (Fem!Reader, Dancing at JJ's wedding)

Obsession @dr-spencer-reids-queen (Fem!Reader, You’re a target for someone who is obsessed with you, and so you offer yourself as bait to catch the guy)

Like a date? @dr-spencer-reids-queen (Fem!Reader, Your older sister brings you to her work, and you get a lot more than you bargained for)

Spring Carnival @storiesofsvu (Fem!Reader, Sweet time at the carnival)

Placing bets @cafeacademia (Fem!Reader, Since you started at the BAU, you and Derek have picked up a fun way to get to know more about each other. By making bets, the person who wins gets to ask any question they like to the loser and the loser much answer truthfully. But maybe there's a bit more that just a bit of fun to the bets...)

It's Always Been You @reidsaurora (Fem!Reader, When Agent Y/N Y/L/N gets injured on the job, Derek Morgan is the one to take care of her afterward. However, neither of them expected that him simply cleaning her wounds would turn into a love confession)

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loversj0y · 9 months

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our young nation

wilbur soot x gn! reader (note: pronouns are gn but reader is afab)

TWs: WAR, DEPICTIONS OF WOUNDS, BIRTH, PREGNANCY, ONE LINE ABT PERIODS, TALKS OF ILLNESS, MENTIONS OF DYING, SEMI-REALISTIC APPROACH TO WAR

word count: 10.7k

note: this has not been edited at all. i dont know a lot about war, but i do know hamilton and mockingjay, so. theres that. there's a playlist for this fic as well if you want to listen to what i listened to (also if this formats weirdly lmk and ill post it on ao3). have fun reading :) title is taken from dear theodosia from hamilton fic playlist

taglist: @l0veb0mb1ng / @core-queen / @zooone / @melunnek

Doing new things was never easy. There were always some hiccups, some strifes, some things that just kept new things from working out just as perfectly as you’d hoped. Not all these hiccups were bad per se, but they were there. Occam’s razor be damned, sometimes things are harder than they are easier.

Those hiccups might be the death of one Wilbur Soot. Mostly because, in this case, the things occurring lean far more toward the “strife” category than the “hiccup” category.

Literally.

The newness of his formed country was refreshing, L’Manburg was already growing to become a beautiful nation, just from the camaraderie seen within its walls. But the beauty of their forming country was contrasted by the growing issues of war and hardships afflicting his citizens.

So yes, war was hard. New things were hard, but they were often necessary and they often brought new, better things.

And then, of course, there was the flickering candle light in the middle of the destitute tunnel that categorized war: Love.

You weren’t originally planning to be involved in the war at all. When Wilbur had come to your door, asking about volunteering for the war, you’d politely turned him down. You made it very clear how much you supported the war efforts, and how, though you couldn’t fight, you’d be willing to help out the war efforts in any way you could.

Wilbur gave you a charming smile and let you know that your support was greatly appreciated.

Which was how you became his aid. For the leader of the rebellion, he was rather disorganized, in a literal sense, seen in the numerous papers and half-finished rations littering his desk, as well as a figurative sense, with the desk becoming a mirror image of his own mind. You helped clear the scatter, in both senses. When he’d pass out writing his pages and pages on new injustices committed by the Greater SMP, you’d be there to save his place and clear the desk.

Eventually, you were able to do far more than just clear the desk; you were able to clear his mind.

It started in conversations, when he’d ask questions aloud to himself without realizing you were in the room.

“… and the infractions pushed upon us by the members of the Greater SMP have found my people destitute, destroyed, and… deprived? No, not deprived-“

“Disregarded?” You spoke up from your place standing next to him, where you’d been carefully sorting through old unfinished drafts of his own works.

“Disregarded?” He looked up at you, giving you a flash of a smile, “Do you feel disregarded by the Greater SMP, Y/N?”

You flushed a bit under his gaze. You hadn’t actually meant to offer the word, but it had slipped out before you could stop it, “Yes.”

His smile underwent a simple change, one you’d noticed after observing his speeches and public appearances. His smile went from congressional — purely political and for show — to harboring a sense of community. It was the smile he used when he asked for volunteers. It was the smile he used when he asked people for their grievances. It was the smile he used when he listened to his citizens. It was a smile that could make you feel safe, make you feel heard. “How so? In what ways do you feel disregarded by the Greater SMP, Y/N?” He asked. It was subtle, the way he tried to say people’s names as often as possible when he spoke to them. There was something in it you recognized; a urge to get the person on your good side and the need to be liked.

You honestly couldn’t place the words that escaped you next. You had never been particularly political, but there was something about Wilbur Soot that demanded elegance and intelligence, and you felt yourself falling into line with easy compliance.

“Well, I feel disregarded in the way they command us. They have hurt our people numerous times without giving a second thought, yet they praise kindness and claim to want a peaceful end to this fighting. I feel disregarded in the fact that they claim to understand us, yet they have never spoken to me, let alone the majority of our citizens. I feel disregarded because they don’t even know my name, yet they have burned down my land. I feel disregarded because they refuse to listen to our grievances,” you took a breath as you continued, setting down the pages you’d been shuffling through. “I feel disregarded because even before the war, they did not respect us. I feel disregarded in the ways that they would bring us into their conflicts while they sat there. And most of all, I feel disregarded in the ways they have hurt my people without a care in the world, as if our lives do not matter.”

There was a moment of silence when you’d finished, and you looked back to see the leader of the rebellion giving you a look that you had never seen before upon his face: adoration. His smile fell into something softer, one that you’d seen only in short bursts, reserved for quiet moments Wilbur shared with himself in dark nights alone when he’d finished a piece he was proud of.

“Well, then,” he smiled at you genuinely, and it was the most gorgeous thing you’d ever seen. “Disregarded, it is.”

From there, you went from being his aid to his advisor, helping him hone his perfectly crafted speeches. You helped clear his mind. His air of regality as leader of the rebellion kept people from feeling comfortable reaching him, yet you shared none of that sense of bravado. You didn’t want to. People came to you, told you about how they felt as citizens, and it was the biggest help to Wilbur, who no longer felt like he was grasping at straws to make sure his citizens were being heard.

Throughout it all, the best thing you offered Wilbur was not your mind, but rather your company.

There were a lot of long nights that Wilbur was used to braving alone, and yet now, you were there to provide him companionship and cure the thoughts that plagued his mind about the future of the war. Wilbur loved watching your mind work on these nights. He would throw up a question into the air, something simple and philosophical, and he would watch as you’d chip away at the question and his subsequent arguments to your own positions. In any other case, it’d have been annoying, but for the both of you, it was akin to mental exercises, a game the two of you shared to keep sharp. It made for a kind distraction over the sounds of silence that plagued empty battlefields still wet with blood.

These nights were also some of the only nights you’d be able to get Wilbur to take care of himself. Usually, it was after a glass of wine softened him up enough for you to convince him to finish his rations. He had a habit of leaving half, just in case someone else needed something, and he’d been hungrier before so he was sure he could brave it. These were the nights when he’d finally let his wounds show.

Every battle, regardless of how bad off he was, he would hide any wounds that he couldn’t personally classify as fatal. And he would continue hiding them until they faded, though they never fully did. He always cared so much about appearances, how he needed to look pristine and confident to keep morales high.

But he didn’t care about that with you. With you, he cared about wit and vulnerability, despite the two having always fallen on opposite doorsteps in his persona. So he’d take off his uniform, leaving him in a simple white undershirt and the slightly baggy black pants he wore underneath. It was the biggest form of physical vulnerability he’d allowed himself in years, and you never overstepped. You’d ignore the bruises and scars littering his arms and faintly poking out from the collar of his undershirt.

But veiled ignorance could only last so long, and your own care for the man overtook any sense of social conventions.

“Wilbur,” you looked at him abruptly. You’d been sharing a bottle of wine like you often ended up doing these nights that neither of you could sleep. With each sip, you feel your mind grow anxious at what you’d noticed. Right when he’d taken this uniform shirt off, you quickly noticed the slash in his bicep, crusted with blood and dirt. And while you planned to ignore it like usual, usually he’d at least have cleaned the wound before, and you couldn’t ignore how clearly unattended this wound was. “Did you visit the medic after today’s battle?”

Wilbur snorted into his glass of wine as he took another sip, “No. No, I did not.”

“Why?”

“Because,” he started simply, “they had far more pressing matters.”

You didn’t see the battles. You’d be on the sidelines, with prepared speeches for Wilbur to give in case of any major developments. You always had to be ready, but it came at the consequence of never knowing what truly happened on the battlefield. Wilbur never liked to recount it either, only sharing essential information to save you from hearing about the ways your people were injured.

But tonight, you wanted to know. His safety was something that concerned you, and if it was so bad that he would threaten his safety, you needed to know. “What was it like today?” You asked quietly, standing as you spoke.

He watched you as you flitted around the room, pacing the floorboards languidly. “I told you. We lost, but we were able to leave a-“

“No, I know what you told me. ‘The battle was lost, but there were effects put into motion that will be able to help us in the long run.’ I know that. I meant- the- the other stuff, those ‘more pressing matters’ that the nurses had. Stuff like that.” You couldn’t bring yourself to say the word ‘casualties’ so casually, as if it was not one of your neighbor’s lives your were pushing into a single word.

He frowned, “I don’t- I really don’t think-“

“Tell me, Wilbur. I need to know.”

Wilbur sighed slowly, nodding, “Everyone was injured. Some of us less so than others. It… it was Eret. Eret betrayed us, so they knew where we were, they knew we’d be unprepared. It’s better that it’s now, so early in the war, that the traitor is gone now, but… it was at a heavy expense. All of my friends, the ones I dragged into this, they- some of them are still there, in the infirmary. Tubbo nearly died. He-“ Wilbur took in a breath, shuddering, “They said he’ll be okay, but if he was hit any higher, they would’ve punctured his rib, and we would’ve lost him. And- I- We almost lost my brother. Tommy, he-“ there were tears in Wilbur’s eyes as he recounted it, “he took a knife straight to the shoulder. For me. He pushed me out of the way. And it was so close, if he’d been a second earlier, it would’ve gone through his heart.” Wilbur was crying now. It was the first time you’d seen him this vulnerable, this affected by what he’d seen. The horrors that plagued his vision every time he’d close his eyes, yet he closes his eyes now, as he speaks, as if he would find some epiphany lying behind them and not the images of his brother and his brother’s best friend clinging to life.

“I- I couldn’t visit the medic after that. For this?” He gestured to the slash on his arm, “It felt unworthy of their attention when so many had nearly lost it all.”

He was still crying, his eyes pressed tightly together as if doing so would click some button to erase the memories of what he’d seen on the battlefield. You moved forward, pressing his head into your stomach and wrapping your arms around him gently. He cried against you, soft and shuddering as if his body was still afraid to acknowledge or speak about what he’d seen.

“I- I watched someone die. Someone on our side, I-“ he sobbed softly, “I held him as his breathing faded. His last words, he-“ Wilbur buried his face further against you, “He told me ‘Wilbur, make it worth it. If this is it for me, do not let it be in vain. Free our country and win.’” Wilbur panted quietly as he let the final words of a fellow solider fade into the quiet of the night. “I just- I can’t let him down. I let a man die for my cause. His blood is on my hands. And Y/N… it doesn’t look good right now. I know I said Eret’s betrayal is good for the future since the traitor is gone, but I- I don’t know what he knows. He could guide them back here tomorrow and slaughter us all in our sleep. So I- I don’t know what to do. I can’t let our people down, they- they didn’t ask for this. I keep- I keep wondering if I just should’ve kept quiet. If we could’ve been happy just living under SMP’s rule.” His admission did not escape him easily, echos of gasping sobs filling the room as he clung onto the fabric of your shirt. Neither of you spoke at first, letting his tears slow to a near stop in order to help him preserve the fragility of his mind.

“Wilbur,” you spoke softly once you felt the moment was right, “No one was happy before. You cannot fault yourself for giving us a chance. I know you feel responsible for the bloodshed, and I know how it makes you feel like you’re clinging onto some shadow of death that follows you. But if you were the only one who wanted freedom for our country, there would be no rebellion. You’d just be another man standing on the end of a street, searching for someone to listen to you. We support this cause because we not only believe in the importance of our freedom, but because we believe in you, Wilbur. We cannot have our leader be made a martyr because where would that leave us? This cause would fall apart without you. And I know you are afraid, but we are all afraid. You are allowed to be afraid of uncertainty. Your people are putting their lives on the line’s because the believe the end, even their ends, will justify the means. You cannot consider falling back onto your fears now. I’m so sorry for what you saw. I know how horrifying it must’ve been. But that man let you hold him as he died, you brought him comfort in those final moments because you promised a better future for his family, his people. You have inspired people, Wilbur. You inspired me. You took a single thought, an idea, and you turned it into something real, something tangible, a cause that we not only believe in, but one that we fight for, and we will continue to fight for.” You let out a soft sigh, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the crown of his head, “Wilbur, I know you feel like the world is crumbling around you because of how scary everything is right now. But you are not alone. If your world is crumbling, it is crumbling for me too?” you sighed once more, “this is all just a long winded way for me to ask, Wilbur, please, will you let me patch your wound?”

He didn’t reply to any specific part of your response, just giving a curt nod and lowering his arms. You both knew that you didn’t just mean the wound on his arm, but that you were attempting to reach out and help him patch the rifts in his mind.

You grabbed the spare first aid kit, returning to your place in front of him as you set down the kit.

“It’s really not that bad,” he sighed, and you rolled your eyes.

“Wilbur, I have always trusted your judgement for everything, but I think we have finally found the exception,” you chuckled softly, gently taking his arm in your hands to inspect the wound. It definitely wasn’t a pretty sight, but it could certainly be worse.

“Really? This marks the exception? Not the hundreds of times I’ve asked you if something sounds right or if people would agree with something I’ve said?”

You nodded, taking a cotton ball and soaking it in alcohol, “Yep, this is it. Uncertainty is not having bad judgement, it’s just the acknowledgement that you can’t do things alone. Which is true, none of us can.” You smiled lightly, pressing the cotton to his arm to clean the wound.

He hissed softly in pain as you cleaned the wound, speaking only once you’d finished, “I can’t,” he spoke quietly. “I can’t do things alone. I’m very grateful to have you.”

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks as you reached for a salve to spread onto his wound. “I’m grateful as well. You keep me stable with all this craziness going on.”

He watched as you opened the salve, getting a generous amount onto your fingers to lightly spread over the slash, “I can say the same. I would’ve fallen into disarray by now without you.”

Your flush darkened, and you started to wrap his arm quietly. You didn’t speak until you’d finished wrapping his arm completely.

“There,” you spoke softly, tying off the bandage, “Now, you won’t get an infection and fall ill. Goodness knows we don’t have the medicine for preventable illness anyways,” you chuckled, trying to make light of things.

Wilbur smiled as well, but he seemed a bit further in thought. You grabbed the kit once more and went to return it to its place, but Wilbur’s hand wrapped lightly around your wrist and kept you from turning.

“Wilbur?” you asked softly.

“I-” he had a flush on his cheek, and there was a beat of waiting before he finally looked up at you. He had a look filled with adoration and appreciation. But there was something else in his gaze, something softer. More warm. Something you would come to know as love.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked softly, his thumb lightly caressing where it rested on your wrist.

You had to refrain from gaping at him as you processed his question. You had always found the rebel attractive, but you’d never considered the legitimacy of pursuing a relationship with a man who seemed far out of your league. With bated breath you nodded, and he leaned up to pull you into him.

The kiss felt far more gentle than it should have. For all the desperation and wanting that lived within it, the kiss was soft and slow, familiarizing one another with each crack in our lips. It didn’t develop further, there was no rapid increasing of intensity, the kiss remained as gentle as the glow from the candles around the room until you pulled away slowly.

You both stared at one another for a long moment, attempting to memorize each freckle and blemish that adored war-torn faces. He was the one to speak up first.

“Y/N? Would you stay with me? Just for tonight?”

You nodded your agreement, and you both shared a mutual understanding in the lie he allowed spill from his lips.

As the war continued, you found yourself making a permanent residence in Wilbur’s bed and home. The war was taking longer than anyone expected, a double-edged sword in the how our troops still lived, yet so did Greater SMP’s. Morale was low for everyone, but you kept your spirits high in fire-warmed rooms in Wilbur’s arms.

“Do you think our people need something to boost their spirits?” He’d asked one day, your head resting on his chest and a hand loosely playing with your hair.

“Hm,” you thought, looking up at him, “I think it would be good, yeah. What are you thinking? A festival?”

He hummed, and as you inspected his face, you noticed the nerves lining his expression. It wasn’t an uncommon sight these days, his worries about the war leeching into every moment of the day. But usually, the anxiousness was far more faded by this time of night, even if it never fully left his gaze.

“Not a festival,” he spoke, shifting and reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a small black box, speaking softer, “I was thinking a wedding.”

You sat up, gasping softly, “Will-”

“I was going to wait until after the war,” he spoke, sitting up across from you. “But I’m terrified that I won’t get to. I’d rather die knowing you were mine than knowing I never got to at least ask you.”

“Wilbur,” you grabbed onto both of his cheeks, pulling him into a deep and loving kiss. You understood where his fears came from, and you would be lying if you didn’t admit that you shared in the same sentiment. Every day that the troops returned, your heart waited to beat in fear until you saw his face. You didn’t want to wait either.

You pulled away, wrapping arms tightly around his neck as you rested your forehead against his.

“Is that a yes, then?” He asked, a grin ghosting over his lips.

You laughed, holding onto him tighter, “Yes, Wilbur, absolutely.”

He laughed as well, his arms coming to wrap tightly around you. He kissed the side of your head as he spoke, “We- it probably won’t get to be a big wedding because we’re so low on resources, but if you want something big, we can absolutely have a second ceremony after, and-”

“Wilbur, our wedding could be in a mud field in our pajamas with a chicken, and I would still be satisfied. All that matters to me is being able to call you mine forever.”

He gave you a grin like you hung the stars in the sky before pulling you in for a loving kiss and putting a small ring onto your finger.

The wedding planning went over quickly. You weren’t planning anything fancy whatsoever, but it still needed to be enough of an event for your people to have time to relax. Everyone wanted to help out as well. Once you woke up the next morning after Wilbur’s proposal, it seemed as if the whole country knew already, with people coming to congratulate you and Wilbur as you both walked through town. Just the sense of community in everyone’s offering to help out with the wedding seemed to brighten everyone throughout the country.

You and Wilbur actually had two ceremonies. The first one was for the two of you and your families, a small dinner and ceremony to allow you to have an intimate and private wedding. It was gorgeous, and so incredibly worth it. The second one was the ceremony for the people. It wasn’t a lavish affair, though your wedding attire was some of the most beautiful things either of you had seen in months. It was a subdued wedding, but it was making the most out of what you had. Lots of fresh cut flowers from the countryside, Niki baked a cake, and a real, full meal made for everyone.

You felt tense in your fancy wedding outfit. Even if it wasn’t the height of luxury, it felt more stiff than anything else you’d worn in months. But there was a point to all of it. It was an event, something for people to care about. Something to get on their minds instead of residual fear about the next battle. You were glad for private affair you’d been able to have the night before, because this felt more like playing the role of the Leader’s Partner rather than actually being his partner.

“Hey,” you heard softly from behind you, turning as you watched Wilbur sneak in. He paused when he saw you, staring in awe. “You look so lovely,” he smiled, walking over to you and taking your hands in his.

“I could say the same about you,” you smiled, pulling him forward for a short kiss. “You ready to get betrothed a second time?”

He laughed, holding you a bit closer, “I am. I’d marry you every day if I could.”

You smiled shyly up at him, moving to wrap your arms around him and hug him tightly, “I love you so much.”

He kissed the top of your head, smiling, “I love you too, darling.”

You sighed and relaxed into the hug, letting your eyes slip shut. You moved your hands down to his sides, frowning when you felt a small box in his pocket.

“Wilbur,” you started, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the small box of cigarettes, “What are you doing with these?”

He frowned, a shameful look on his face, “I haven’t smoked any, don’t worry. I’m just- I’m anxious, so I got them in case.”

You nodded, biting your lip with a frown, “If you’re anxious, you know you can come to me.”

“I know, I know, I just-” he sighed, “I’m anxious about you, is the thing.”

You frowned, setting the cigarettes down on the table behind you, “What do you mean?”

He sighed, sitting down on a small stool across from you, “I’m nervous that when word travels about the marriage, they’ll look down on the legitimacy of our country. I think it’s good, I think they’ll think we’re less concerned than we really are, however… I’m worried I’m placing a target on your back.”

You nodded softly, “Wilbur, I’ve had a target on my back since I chose to stand with our country,” you moved forward, giving him a gentle kiss, “I understand the concern, and I know the risks. But I’m not letting those risks outweigh the joy of being married to you. If they go for me, I can handle it. I know I’m not much of a fighter, but I can hold my own. Plus, they won’t kill me. If I’m valuable to you, they wouldn’t dare.”

He took your hand in his again, squeezing it gently, “thank you, darling,” he sighed, holding you close. “I won’t let them take you anyways. You’re too precious to me.”

You chuckled softly, lightly pressing your forehead against his. “Let’s go get married, then. The best fuck you we can give them is our love.”

He grinned and chuckled, nodding softly, “Let’s go get married.”

The wedding was a bright affair. The actual marriage part was quick and sweet, vows that you had both prepared together, nothing as genuine as the words spoken the night before. It was sweet regardless, promises of loving each other in the darkest of times that rang true in an audience of war-stricken dreamers. The best part of the wedding was the reception. Everyone was up, dancing and singing along to the music being shared, and the entire tarp over the field was covered in the most beautiful lights and flowers. You had a proper first dance with Wilbur before the dancing became more lively. You spent most of the night sitting with Wilbur and watching your people dance and laugh and drink.

“It’s gorgeous, don’t you think?” You smiled, looking over at him.

He nodded, “It is. I’m glad to see everyone smiling and happy.” “And drunk.”

He laughed, leaning his head on your shoulder, “Yeah, that too.”

You smiled, holding his hand quietly. You stared at the ring on your finger. It was simple, but it was absolutely gorgeous. A simple gold band with a small chiselled diamond in the centre. The diamond was crafted from a piece that had chipped off of Wilbur’s sword when he taught you the basics of parrying hits. The engagement ring lay below it, a thinner silver ring with a small emerald that you recognized as coming from one of Wilbur’s ventures to a further village. The rings weren’t lavish, but you preferred them more like this. They were far more meaningful like this. Symbols of your love both in their meaning and their crafting.

“Can I ask you something?” You asked him softly.

“Of course, darling.”

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. “In our vows, we both mentioned honesty, so I want you to be honest with me right now. I know this isn’t the place to ask, but… what do you think our chances of winning are?”

He was quiet for a long moment, his thumb caressing the back of your hand, “I don’t think it matters how big or small our chances are. I think what matters is that we have a chance. If we didn’t, we would’ve failed a long time ago.”

You nodded softly, “You see it, though? The future where we win?”

He looked over at you, a wide smile on his face, “I see it as clearly as I see you now. I see our fields free from the blood they currently harbor. Instead, they’re filled with flowers that grew up from the bloodshed. Crimson turned crimson. The kids run around, free of fear of an incoming bomb. My brother runs with them, and he no longer acts so grown up; he’s allowed to be a kid again. I see a memorial for those we lost, for all that was sacrificed. I see our citizens in parades, every year for our independence, they sing and dance, just like this. It’s like… the war is the night, the cold and harsh conditions that brutalize us and break us down into nothing more than human. But independence? It’s warm. It’s laying in the sun in a field with you. It’s our flag waving high on a summer day. It’s the laughter of children, it’s the joy of the future. It’s us. Our future. A memory garden adorned with flowers and the knowledge that we will never return to the Great War because we not only survived, but we persisted.”

“It’s daylight,” you smiled, and he gave you a grin so bright it felt like basking in it.

“It’s daylight.”

The weeks after the wedding remained lively for the most part. The morale boost helped the troops improve, and the battles didn’t seem as tough. There was an underlying fear that the SMP troops were holding back for some reason, but for the most part, everything seemed to be going good.

Until one morning.

Winter had begun, and with it, hardships improved. Illness was rampant, and while no one had fallen fatally ill yet, everyone was afraid.

Wilbur didn’t expect you to be next on the list of ill.

He was in the living room when you woke up that day. You stood slowly, but as you stood, you were hit with a wave of nausea and vertigo. You nearly collapsed before making it to the trash to throw up the contents of your empty stomach. You leaned over the trash and within moments, Wilbur was at your side, keeping your hair out of your face and rubbing your back.

“Darling? Are you alright?”

You coughed weakly, spitting into the trash, “Do I seem okay, Wilbur?” You huffed, before sighing. “Sorry, I just- I hate throwing up.”

He nodded softly, “It’s alright, I get it, here,” he carefully helped you up back into bed before rushing to grab some water. He handed you the glass, and you drank it quickly, sighing softly.

“Did something happen?” He asked, moving to your side to wrap an arm around you.

“No, I just stood up and- yeah,” you sighed, leaning your head against him, “You shouldn’t be close, I may be sick.”

He frowned, kissing the top of your head, “I’ll be alright. I’m going to call for the doctor, okay?”

You nodded softly, and he was rushing to get the doctor within seconds. They came back a few minutes later, and the doctor was quick to check over you.

“Your temperature is a bit high,” they hummed, “But other than that and the throwing up, I’m not seeing any other major symptoms. It could be stress. I would take it easy for the next few days, see if it improves. If nothing’s changed in a week, we can check for more, alright?”

You nodded softly, sighing quietly. Wilbur grabbed your hand gently before walking the doctor out, sharing hushed words.

When he returned, he got back into bed next to you, “They don’t think it’s anything serious. They said it’s likely just a mild fever, not like the flu going around out there.”

You leaned your head on his shoulder, “I’ll be alright.”

“You will be,” he nodded, kissing the top of your head. “I can’t stay to watch you too much this week, but I can get Niki, if you want.”

“Wilbur, I don’t think I need to be watched,” you chuckled.

“I know you don’t need it,” he hummed, “but I want someone to be here with you. I don’t want you to collapse and have no one be here for you.”

You sighed softly, nodding, “Okay. If you don’t need her for anything this week, then I don’t mind. I like spending time with Niki.”

He smiled, squeezing your hand gently, “Alright. I’ll let her know.”

The same thing happened throughout the week. Wilbur would help you in the morning when the nausea hit, and then Niki would swap out with him when he had to go help out his people. The nausea usually lasted the whole day, but the vertigo and lightheadedness only seemed to last in the morning. You managed to eat small meals, and with Niki’s baking, she brought you a lot of small snacks.

It was one of these days that you had a theory. The final day of the week, there was a major battle, so Niki would spend the whole day with you while Wilbur went out to fight. It was nerve wracking knowing that he would be out there and you were stuck in your bedroom, but you figured it wasn’t that much different from the other days, you supposed.

“Niki,” you spoke up from your place on the bed. She was sat across from you, working on a small knitting project. The troops had just head out for the battle.

“Yeah, Y/N?” she asked, looking up at you.

“Did a doctor stay behind? Or did all of them head out?”

She thought for a moment, “There’s two here with us. One for the ill, and one preparing things for when the others return.”

You nodded, staying quiet for a moment, “Could you call one of them here for a moment?”

She frowned, concern lacing her brow, “Yeah, of course, but, why? Are you not feeling well again?”

“It’s not that,” you bit your lip quietly, looking away for a moment, “Can you keep a secret, Niki?”

She nodded, “Of course.”

You fiddled with your fingers for a moment, trying to think of the best way to phrase your next statement, “I… skipped this month.”

She gave you a look of confusion, before her eyes widened as realization hit, “Oh. Oh! Do you think-?”

“Yes. Maybe. I don’t know. I don’t want to get my hopes up yet. And I don’t want to get Wilbur’s hopes up either, just in case. But… I think so.”

She gave you a grin, nodding quickly as she stood, “I’ll go grab one of the doctors, I’ll be right back!”

She rushed out, leaving you alone with your thoughts for a moment. You were nervous about the implications. You wanted to start a family with Wilbur, of course, but neither of you were planning for it to happen yet. You’d agreed to wait until after the war. War is no place to raise a child.

The doctor came in, and she gave you a gentle smile. Niki waited outside as you spoke with the doctor, and you did a quick exam.

“Well,” the doctor gave you a soft smile, “I think your theory may be correct, Y/N.”

“You think?”

“Well, I know. You’re correct. You’re pregnant.”

She had a soft grin on her face as she confirmed your theory, as if it was not news that changed the entire trajectory of your future.

“Thank you, Doctor,” you gave her a soft smile right back, trying to let your worries ease into the back of your mind until Wilbur returned.

“Of course. And don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. For the next few months, just try to relax. I know it’ll be tough given our circumstances, but you have the support of the entire country holding you up, alright?”

You nodded silently.

“I’ll do another exam in a month to make sure everything is going well, and we can arrange for monthly visits. If you have any questions just let me know, and so other than that, congratulations.”

“Thank you,” you smiled softly, and she left soon after.

Niki returned, a subdued smile on her face, “So?”

You bit your lip and nodded.

She grinned, rushing to your side and taking your hand in hers, “Oh, that’s lovely! Wilbur’s going to be so excited, are you going to tell him tonight?”

“I think so,” you smiled softly, “I imagine it’d be hard to keep it from him.”

It was hard to keep it from him. But not through your own admission, rather because news of the doctor visiting your home traveled quick among those who’d stayed behind. That night, Wilbur rushed in to see you.

“Y/N! Are you okay?” He called out, rushing up to see you and hold you in a tight hug. He looked worse for wear, his hair a ruffled mess and his cheeks stained with dirt.

“Yes, love, I’m alright, why?” You hugged him back tightly, nerves and knowledge filling your chest.

“I- I heard a doctor came in today,” he pulled away to inspect your face, holding your cheeks gently, “Did something happen?”

“No, no,” you smiled softly, “I’m okay, I’m good, actually. We figured everything out, and I’m going to be okay.”

He let out a breath of relief, pressing his forehead to yours gently, “Darling, you scared me.”

“I’m sorry,” you chuckled softly, “How was the fight?”

He tensed, and you frowned.

“It was… it wasn’t good,” he sighed, and your heart dropped, “We ambushed them like we planned, but they were stronger. We didn’t get to take out as many of them as we wanted to before they noticed us, so we were outnumbered.”

You nodded softly, “Were you successful in stealing supplies, though?”

He nodded, and the smile on his face didn’t quite reach his eyes, “Not as much as we wanted to, but enough to make it hurt.”

“That’s good,” you smiled back at him, “Are you injured? Did you see the medic?”

He shook his head, “a few scratches and a burn from a flaming arrow, but it’s not bad. It’s on my shoulder.”

You rolled your eyes fondly, “Go take a bath, and I’ll wrap it. And then, I have something important to talk to you about.”

He tilted his head, “What is it?”

“Nope, not yet. Go clean up first,” you chuckled softly, “That takes priority.”

He rolled his eyes, grin falling on his face easily, “Alright, alright. I’ll be right back.”

You nodded and watched as he went to go clean up. You could have told him then, but it was more for your sake than his that you wanted to wait. You had to get your mind together first, especially now knowing he was okay.

He returned not long after, face and hands scrubbed clean of dirt and soot. He was wearing a white tank top with his sleep pants, and he had the med kit in his hand as he sat down next to you.

You hissed softly as you saw the burn, gently taking his arm in your hand, “Wilbur, this is worse than you described.”

He waved it off, sighing, “It just got irritated from the water. It doesn’t hurt that bad.”

You gave him a look of disbelief as you stared at the burn. It was bright red and angry, skin slightly charred and bubbled. There was a slight cut in the middle of it from where the arrow must’ve passed through. You sighed sofly, grabbing the disinfectant.

“Hold onto my arm, this is going to sting,” you told him softly, and he did as you said. Once you passed the disinfectant over the burn, he hissed in pain, squeezing your shoulder. You continued cleaning the wound until it was satisfactory, You grabbed the burn cream and delicately spread it over the wound, and slowly, his pained noises lessened.

“I’m not going to wrap it just yet, it needs to breathe for a while, okay?”

He nodded, sighing and pulling his hand away, “Will I be able to cover it tomorrow?”

You frowned, “You shouldn’t. But I know you will, so I’ll wrap it tomorrow.”

He nodded again, grabbing the med kit and returning it to its space in your bathroom.

“So,” he said, sitting down in front of you, “You said you have something important to share?”

“Yeah, so,” you sighed softly, taking his hand gently, “It’s about the doctor visit. I had the doctor come over today because I wanted to talk to her about us starting a family.”

He nodded, eyebrows furrowing slightly, “Okay. I thought we were planning to wait, though?”

You nodded, “I know, but… would you… be upset if we didn’t?”

He chuckled, “Not at all, darling,” he smiled, “it wouldn’t be ideal, but that’s more due to my own selfishness. I want to be here for every second of it, and I don’t know if I can right now. But I wouldn’t be upset about it. Do you… want to?”

You bit your lip, taking his hand and placing it over your stomach. “Wilbur,” you looked up at him, “I don’t know if we have much of a choice anymore.”

He gave you a concerned look, frowning, “Why not? Did- did something happen? If you’re not able to, we could always look into adoption, or-”

“No, Will,” you chuckled softly, shaking your head, “It’s not like that. It’s, uh, it’s the opposite, actually.” You gave him a soft grin.

He looked confused for a moment longer before a wide grin crossed his face, “Wait. Do you- do you mean?”

You nodded, “Yeah. I had a theory with all the sickness in the morning. So, I talked to the doctor, and… I think our family will be coming a lot sooner than we’d planned for.”

He grinned, tears springing to his eyes, “You’re serious? You’re-”

“Pregnant. Yeah.” You were grinning as well, and finally getting to tell him felt like the first breath of air after diving into the deep end.

“Oh, darling,” he spoke, pulling you into a tight hug, “Oh, I- we’re going to have a kid.”

You nodded, chuckling through the tears of joy that hit your cheeks. “Yeah, we’re going to have a kid.”

He grinned, holding you tightly, “Fundy’s going to have a sibling! Darling, this is amazing. I know we wanted to wait, but I don’t care. I have so much more to fight for now. So much more to come home for.”

You kissed him, holding onto him like a lifeline, “The war’s not done. But this. This is why we fight. As long as you’re home at the end of the day, that’s all that matters to me.”

He grinned at you, “I love you so much. I am so lucky to have you. We’re so lucky, even if it’s just being alive right now. This is all we need.”

You smiled lovingly at him, “We are so fucking lucky. And I am so excited for this. They’re blessed to have you as their father.”

“They’re blessed to have you as well,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

That night, neither of you went to sleep concerned over a failed fight. Instead, you dreamt of the bright future you’d be bringing your child into.

Family and close friends were the first to know. You told them two days later, during an impromptu family meeting that Wilbur had called. Everyone was incredibly elated, though Tommy’s excitement probably took the cake, as he was practically screaming his congratulations.

The rest of country learned fairly soon after. About a month later, even though you’d only slightly began showing and could certain continue to hide it for a while, neither of you wanted to. It was a joy to share with the country, and the celebration that followed was bright and lively, a night-long glimpse into a wonderful future.

It wasn’t always easy, though. Wilbur hated how he couldn’t stay by your side, taking care of your every need. You hated how lonely some nights were, when the battles lasted longer than usual or they had to prepare for a midnight ambush. The worst part of those nights was the fear, overwhelming and keeping you stationary in Wilbur’s office or your bedroom. Not knowing if your husband would return hurt more than anything else in the world.

You were six months in when he came home exhausted in early morning light. He didn’t speak to you at first, giving you a kiss before going to wash up. You waited anxiously for him to return, and when he did, he returned shirtless with a med kit in hand. He sat down in front of you with a sigh, turning around so you could see the large gash running down his shoulder.

“Wilbur,” you gasped softly, “this is really long.”

“It’s not that deep. Didn’t even realize it was there until I went to wash up.” He sighed.

You frowned, starting to patch him up quickly.

He spoke to distract himself, “Do you think we’re going to have a girl or a boy?”

You shrugged softly, “I’m not sure. They could be nonbinary as well.”

“True,” he hummed, “if they do come out as nonbinary, we’ll let them choose their own name. But we do still need to choose a name.”

“That’s true,” you hummed, carefully disinfecting his wound, “We should prepare for both.”

“I agree,” he responded, though his words came out through a clenched jaw.

“So what are you thinking, then?”

“Hm, I’m not sure about for a boy. But I do have a name picked out for a girl.”

“Oh, yeah?” you smiled, starting to carefully apply the salve to the wound, “What is it?”

“Tallulah,” he smiled softly, “What do you think?”

“That’s gorgeous. I love it.” You set the rest of the salve down, picking up the bandages.

“I’ve always loved it. I’m really glad you like it as well.”

You directed him to hold his arm up so you could wrap his wound, “It’s beautiful. What about a boy?”

He hummed, “I’m not sure.”

“We could always do Wilbur Jr.”

He snorted, shaking his head, “God, no. I’d sooner name them after Tommy.”

You laughed, shaking your head, “I mean, Thomas would be a good middle name.”

“It would, actually,” he smiled softly. “For a boy, though… Julius could be nice. Or maybe Cornelius.”

You hummed, “Those have a good ring to it. Julius Thomas Soot. Cornelius Thomas Soot.”

“They do. We can think more about it, I suppose. We have time.”

“We do have time,” you hummed, pressing a kiss to the top of his shoulder as you finished the bandage.

He turned, wrapping his arms around you and laying his head on your chest, pressing a kiss to the baby bump. You moved a hand to gently play with his hair.

“It was bad today?” You asked softly.

He sighed, “Bad would be an understatement.”

You nodded softly, kissing the top of his head.

“Do you think we’re bad people? For bringing a kid into this?” He asked softly.

You frowned, “No. I don’t.”

He nodded, holding you a bit tighter. After a moment, he spoke softly, “I’m really scared for them.”

You brushed through his hair with your hand, “Why?”

“I’m going to be honest, it… it doesn’t look good right now. They keep getting stronger and smarter, and I don’t know how to fight them. I’m scared we’re bringing our child into a failing country, and I’m scared I can’t protect you or them if worse comes to worse.”

“I understand. I’m scared too. But, love… we can’t really do anything now. We just have to try to give this child the best life we can, no matter the circumstances. Even if they’re the worst case scenario.”

He sighed, nodding, “I know. I just… I feel like I fucked up with Fundy. I was too young at the time, and I don’t want to make the same mistakes. And if I’m focused on fighting a war, I won’t be able to be there for them, the same way I wasn’t there for Fundy. I’m scared of being a bad father again.”

“I don’t think you will be,” you spoke softly, “and you’re not alone this time. You have me. They won’t be alone if you’re not there. I’ll be here.”

He nodded softly, looking up at you, “Thank you. I’m sorry, I’m just…” He trailed off.

“I get it. I’m scared too. I’ve never done this before. I have no clue what I’m doing. Not to mention I’m terrified of giving birth. But I’m scared of making mistakes because I didn’t know until I met you if I would ever have a kid. I’m glad I am, don’t get me wrong, but I never expected to be ready for something like this. Honestly, I still don’t know if I’m ready. I’m terrified, Wilbur. But I have you. I’m not alone.”

He smiled, leaning up to kiss you gently, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, darling,” you spoke softly, kissing him back gently, “Let’s get some rest, now, okay?”

“Okay,” he nodded softly. With how exhausted he was, it didn’t take long before he fell asleep, leaving you alone with thoughts of uncertainty until sleep took over.

As you entered the last month of the pregnancy, things were starting to look up.

Kind of.

While the recent battles had been lost, Wilbur had a plan.

“Darling, I think I’ve figured it out,” he grinned, standing from his desk and walking to the couch you sat on.

“What is it?” You smiled, looking up at him.

“I’ve figured out how we win. Tubbo’s been spying for us, as you know, and he brought me this document yesterday, and I couldn’t see the significance! I was being an idiot, but I knew it didn’t make sense for them to have an entire document detailing how they make their uniforms.” He grinned, and you tilted your head.

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s a cypher. Darling, it was a code! And I- I figured it out. I know their plans.” He had a manic look in his eye, and you couldn’t help but perk up at the excitement in his tone.

“Love, have you slept?”

“Barely, I couldn’t sleep much because I kept thinking about this stupid fucking document. But darling, we know everything now. We know exactly where they’re going to be and when. We can win, we- we can do this.”

You grinned, but the anxiety still filled your chest at the idea, “You’re sure about this?”

“I- I mean, I think. I figured out the code, and it all makes sense.”

You bit your lip. You didn’t want to think of the most likely possibility. That they knew. That this was a fake document.

“Darling, I thought you’d be more excited,” he frowned, catching onto your anxiety.

“No, no, I am, just… Wilbur, what if they did it on purpose? What if they let him get a document planted just to feed you incorrect information?”

He nodded, thinking quietly. “I trust in it. And I think it may be a risk we have to take.”

You gaped at him, “Wilbur, you could be marching our troops directly into a trap.”

“I know, I know, but,” he sighed, “I have a good feeling about this, I promise. Honestly, I don’t think we have any other choice. Without this, we have nothing.”

You nodded softly, “... you trust it? That- that this isn’t a plant?”

“Yes.”

“And how certain are you?”

He bit his lip, “Mostly certain. It’s the best chance we’ll have, and we have to move fast, their plans start tomorrow.”

You nodded, pulling him in for a tight hug, “Okay. If-if you’re sure. I trust you.”

He hugged you back tightly, and you tried not to think about the fact that he hugged you like it may be the last time, “I love you so much, darling. Don’t worry, okay? This time tomorrow, we’ll be free people.”

You nodded, closing your eyes to focus on the feeling of his arms around you, “I love you too.” You pulled him in for a loving kiss, sighing softly.

“Go rally your troops.”

Wilbur did just that. He left shortly and brought the plan to all the generals, all the soldiers, everyone he could. He was buzzing with excitement when he returned that night, holding you close as he lied with you in bed, one hand gently resting over your belly.

“We’re leaving before the sun is up,” he told you softly.

“Will you be back when I wake up?”

He shook his head, “No. But we’ll be back for dinner for sure.”

You smiled softly, holding him closer, “We’ll have a celebratory dinner. Extra special.”

“Oh?” He chuckled, “Extra special?”

“Absolutely. Because we won’t just be celebrating the win. We’ll be celebrating your new role as President.”

He flushed softly, “You think?”

You nodded, “I’ve heard the people speak. They trust you, Wilbur. And I know you’ll make a great president. You’ll create a great place for our child to grow up in.”

“Thank you,” he smiled softly, leaning down to press a kiss to your belly, then your cheek.

“Plus,” you hummed, “President Soot does have a good ring to it.”

He smirked, blushing once more, “Oh? You think so?”

“I know so, Mr. President,” you grinned as he leaned up, lips hovering above yours.

“That does sound nice. Though I may be biased,” he pecked your lips gently, a smirk still ghosting on his lips.

“How so?”

“Well, I think any words that escape your lips are just as gorgeous as the lips they escape from,” he spoke softly, pulling you into a languid and loving kiss. You kissed him back just as passionately, letting the intensity quell your fears about his return tomorrow.

Wilbur was gone when you woke up the next morning, which you expected. What you didn’t expect was for lunchtime to have been such a bleak affair. You expected much more liveliness from your people, especially given how much Wilbur believed in the plan. But the streets were quiet. There were only hushed words as you walked through town to find a meal, and it seemed as if many people were directing those hushed words towards you.

“Did something happen?” You asked the merchant after you finished your meal.

She gave you a frown, a tense look appearing on her brow, “You haven’t heard?” You felt your heart sinking as you shook your head.

She sighed, looking down for a moment before looking back up at you, “I’m sorry, uh…” she took a deep breath before speaking, “one of the generals was supposed to come back to check in at noon. They haven’t returned.”

Your eyes widened slightly, but you nodded quietly, “Well, that- that doesn’t mean anything specific yet. Have we heard anything at all from the battlefield?”

She shook her head solemnly, and you nodded once more.

“Alright, well, ah, thank- thank you,” you stuttered out, before rushing away to find the basecamp quarters. You started feeling a pain as you walked, but you didn’t allow yourself to focus on it as you ripped open the tarp to the camp, finding the entire place… empty. It felt like a ghosttown.

You swallowed down the bile that rose in your throat, rushing back home. The pain continued as you walked, and your legs shook stubbornly as you trekked home. You couldn’t tell if the pain was even real, or if it was a side effect of the desperation and doom that filled your heart. As you reached your home, you collapsed against the front door, holding onto the door frame as a groan of pain escaped you. Before you knew it, the ground was rushing up to meet you.

When you woke, you weren’t on the ground. You found yourself in an uncomfortable cot, pain wracking through your body as you failed to sit up.

“Hey, take it easy, it’s okay, you’re okay,” the doctor spoke, coming to help you sit up. You were sweating, and she carefully placed a cold wet cloth to the top of your forehead.

“What’s- what’s going on? Where’s Wilbur?” You stifled a groan as you spoke.

“He’s not back yet, none of the troops are. And you’re okay, you passed out when your water broke. You’re going into labor.”

“Fuck,” you hissed out, panting softly. You noticed now the dressing gown you wore, your original clothes laying folded in a pile in the corner.

“Take some deep breaths for me, you’re doing great, okay?” She instructed, and you nodded, taking a moment to just focus on your breathing.

“What- what time is it?” You asked in between breaths.

“It’s about to be seven.” She told you, turning as she sorted through medical supplies.

Wilbur should’ve been back by now. You didn’t know if you could do this without him.

“Your contractions are coming in about every five minutes, and they’re lasting about a minute. You’re not quite there yet, so you have time, alright?”

You bit your lip and nodded, placing a hand over your belly as you prayed to any god that would listen that your husband would be returning to you in one piece, in time for him to meet his child. You’d never felt so alone at such a worse time. You had no midwife, no friends, no husband, just your doctor to guide you through this.

It was another hour before it was time. You didn’t want it to be, you wanted Wilbur.

“You’re dilated,” the doctor informed you, grim as you shared a thought on the lack of troops returning, “I’m sorry, but you’re going to start pushing.”

You shook your head, “No, I- I need to wait, please.”

“I’m sorry, I know.” She took your hand in hers, “We still have time, but you need to start.”

As much as you wanted to argue, you knew you couldn’t.

The sound of you yelling in pain during the next contraction was masked with another sound.

Yelling, first.

Then, the singing.

And finally, cheering.

It was only a minute later when heard the sound grow, of your people, cheering and singing in the streets outside. It was two minutes later when a medic rushed in, a smile on their face.

“They’re back!” They announced, before rushing to tell whoever they could.

You fought through another contraction as your heart lifted, panic filling you.

“Wilbur,” you spoke weakly, “Wilbur, please, please, find- find Wilbur.”

The doctor looked at you in concern, biting her lip for a moment.

“Okay. Okay, yes, hold on, let me- I’ll go try to find him, just hold on.”

You nodded rapidly as the doctor rushed out, going to find Wilbur. You gripped the sides of the cot as you groaned in pain, trying desperately to focus on your breathing.

When she returned, she was alone, “I-I couldn’t find him, but they’re saying he’s alive, don’t worry, okay?”

You let out a breath of relief, head falling back for a moment as you relaxed just as much as you could. She guided you through a few more contractions before you heard the most beautiful sound.

“Darling?!” You heard Wilbur yell, and you heard his voice get closer with each word, “Excuse me, please, hold on, Y/N!” He ripped open the door, gasping in relief once he saw you.

“Darling, oh my god,” he rushed in, coming in quickly to hold your hand tightly and place his other hand on your cheek. You leaned into his touch as he turned to the doctor, “How far along are they?”

“Breached,” the doctor informed, “Should be any minute now.”

He nodded, and you looked at him, “Will, I was so- fuck- I was so worried.”

He cooed, brushing your hair back, “It’s okay, I’m alright, I’m here now. Darling,” he grinned, eyes filled with tears as you squeezed his hand and groaned in pain.

“Darling,” he spoke again once the moment had passed, “We- we did it. We won. We’re free.”

You gasped, pulling him into you, “Oh, my god,” you couldn’t fight the tears that fell from your cheeks, “We won?”

He nodded quickly, kissing the top of your head, “We won.”

You let out a sob of relief and joy, but it was quickly masked by another yell of pain.

“You’ve got this, darling, I’m here, we’re free, you can do this,” he told you, holding you close.

“It’s a girl,” the doctor spoke softly. Wilbur was with you on the cot now, and you both were exhausted for different reasons, but both with joyous outcomes. She brought your daughter over to you, the newborn swaddled carefully.

You gasped quietly when you saw her, taking her gently in your arms as you leaned against Wilbur. You looked up at him, tears in both of your eyes. He kissed you gently before looking back down at your daughter.

“Tallulah Soot,” he spoke softly, “Welcome to the free nation of L’Manburg.”

You chuckled, though it was slightly muffled from your tears. “The first citizen to be born under a free rule,” you spoke softly, a finger gently stroking her cheek, “Because we won.”

“We won,” Wilbur parroted, disbelief clouding his voice.

She woke both of you up early with her cries. You held her in your arms as the early morning light poured in slowly, and as you rocked her, Wilbur sat next to you, an arm around your shoulder.

Her cries softened, and as her big eyes stared up at you, you decided to tell her a story.

“Now, Ms. Lulah,” you spoke softly, “You won’t know this for a few years. But you were born during a very special time. Your father was amazing, he commanded a whole army of people.”

Wilbur chuckled softly, kissing your head, “You were born to two amazing people. One a commander, and one his political advisor who won his heart with their wit and brevity behind closed doors.”

You chuckled, smiling warmly, “Yes, even though he was a disorganized wreck when I met him. Every year, Ms. Lulah, there will be a parade on your birthday. Do you know why?”

Wilbur smiled fondly, “I don’t think she does.”

“Well, then I’ll tell her,” you hummed softly. You looked up, staring out in an empty field, filled with beautiful red flowers as the morning light softly reflected on dew drops that slept on grass. “Because, you, Ms. Lulah, were born on the day your father and our people fought to ensure your freedom. More importantly, you were born on the day they won.”

She let out a soft giggle – the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard – and you grinned lovingly, staring out at that field once more, that never again, would harbor the same bloodshed. As the sun poured in, you could see in your mind, her running in that field, picking those red flowers, and never once knowing of the same hardships that allowed crimson blood to pour on your land.

All she would know is the daylight.

#mar writes #wilbur soot x reader #mcyt x reader #lovejoy #dsmp x reader #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot #mcyt x you #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot fanfiction #mcytumblr #mcyt wilbur #dsmp #dsmp fanfic #lmanbur #lmanbur x reader #lmanburg #our young nation #oyn au

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armoricaroyalty · 7 months

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Previous | Chapter Start | Beginning | Next

author's note: Once again, the lovely build is courtesy of @nexility-sims, who also loaned me her lovely sims and permitted me to write dialogue where they tell my sims how perfect and hot they are!

Transcript under the cut.

Nakawe Palace // Amorican State Visit - Day 1

JULIÁN | ...you're with the Armoricans, then? THEO | I am. Theodosia—Theo—Adams, with the Royal Foundation. JULIÁN | Julián Reyes. It's a pleasure to meet you, Theo. JULIÁN | You know...I'm so glad they seated me at your table. THEO | [playing along] Oh? And why is that? JULIÁN | Well, I was looking around the room and I was starting to worry that I wouldn't have the chance to speak with the loveliest woman here tonight. THEO | [amused] Have you tried that line on every woman you've talked to tonight? JULIÁN | Eh. About a third. THEO | Yeah? And how is it working out for you? JULIÁN | It only has to work once...

FREDERICK | ...what a fucking creep. EMILY | Who? FREDERICK | That guy. Julián. FREDERICK | He's been hitting on every woman with a pulse. EMILY | He was at lunch...isn't he one of Queen Beatriz's grandsons? FREDERICK | [scoffs] Not one of her favorites. FREDERICK | ...not that I'd know what Her Majesty thinks, since I've never met her. EMILY | Queen Beatriz is busy running her country, Frederick. You expect too much. FREDERICK | She made time for Rosalind. EMILY | Yes, she made time to speak with your father's heir. FREDERICK | Right, right...we mustn't forget our place! Who cares who planned the entire state visit, it doesn't matter. EMILY | I'm sure Her Highness is grateful for all the work you've done. FREDERICK | Yeah, I'm sure her office will send my office a fruit basket once we're home. EMILY | And I'm sure it'll be a lovely fruit basket. FREDERICK | [sighs] You always look on the bright side, Em. EMILY | What would you do without me?

#armorica story #chapter 3 #behind the scenes #armorica collabs #nexility sims #character: andre st. fleur #character: leonor reyes #character: julian reyes #character: theodosia adams #character: frederick st. fleur #character: emily chandra

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grellsutcliffsworld · 2 years

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British victorian era generator ! :D

Your month of birth:

January: Prince/Princess

February: Baron/Baroness

March: Marquis/Marquise

April: Earl/Countess

May: Butler/Maid

June: Duke/Duchess

July: Homless boy/girl

August: Salesman/woman

September: King/Queen

October: Joker

November: Prostitute

December: Farmer/worker

First letter of your first name:

A: Arthur/Alice

B: Benedict/Beatrice

C: Charles/Cordelia

D: David/Dorothea

E: Elijah/Evelyn

F: Francis/Fiona

G: George/Gwen

H: Humphrey/Helena

I: Isaiah/Iris

J: John/Juliette

K: Kyrie/Kelvin

L: Luther/Lucille

M: Marcus/Muriel

N: Neville/Novalynn

O: Oscar/Ophelia

P: Pascal/Penelope

Q: Qasim/Quintessa

R: Randall/Rosemary

S: Samuel/Sophia

T: Theodore/Theodosia

U: Uriah/Urith

V: Vincent/Victoria

W: William/Willow

X: Xerxes/Xenia

Y: Yoel/Yolanda

Z: Zander/Zipporah

Last letter of your last name:

A: Addams

B: Berrycloth

C: Chapman

D: Dankworth

E: Edwards

F: Featherswallow

G: Graham

H: Hughes

I: Insworthy

J: Jones

K: Knight

L: Lawrence

M: Matthews

N: Naiswell

O: Osborne

P: Palmer

Q: Quintrell

R: Ratcliff

S: Stewart

T: Taylor

U: Underhill

V: Villin

W: White

X: Xavier

Y: Yates

Z: Zachary

Your favorite color:

White: Death by suicide

Yellow: Poisoned by an secret admirer

Orange: Burned alive as a witch

Brown: Stumbled into horseshit face first, while being drunk and suffocated

Red: Killed by Jack the Ripper

Purple: Ran over by a carriage

Blue: Fell of a great height

Green: Ripped apart by a grizzly bear

Grey: Died peacefully in their sleep

Black: Killed by the pest

Comment bellow what you got and tag at least three people >:D

@ctitan98

@lacelynpage

@we-r-loonies

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kimi-twstheadcanons · 1 year

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Blow Us All Away

-Malleus and (Y/N) have a child, Maelora. A fae king father, a human queen mother, and a half-blood princess. A very happy family indeed. All seemed well, but an unfortunate event has befallen the family. Maelora describes her experience in this…

Pronouns: She/her

Warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST!!! ALL THE ANGST! Loss of a loved one

Note: I haven’t seen chapter 7 so this doesn’t really have anything in it other than one line inspired from what I’ve seen around the fandom. I also came up with this idea when I was listening to “Dear Theodosia reprise” a deleted song from Hamilton the musical. I COULDN’T HELP MYSELF AND HAD TO WRITE THIS I’M SORRY! It’s not perfect but I really tried. I just needed this idea out of my head

“I’ll be home soon, mother.”

•

I was picking flowers in the garden. Our lovely little garden that father had grown just for me away from all the other thorn bushes. He was the king of the Briar Valley, after all, he was ever so great and powerful. Mother is kind and compassionate but a mere human with no magical abilities. They say it’s because she’s not from this world but I never truly understood what that meant. Usually, she would help me with the garden and we would play and sing while waiting for father to visit us from his royal duties. If it wasn’t father it would be Lilia or uncle Silver who is usually accompanied by uncle Sebek. They may not be my real uncles by blood, but I don’t recall addressing them any differently.

“Hello there, our darling little princess! Are you making more flower crowns for your parents?” Lilia suddenly appeared out of nowhere, floating upside down above my head. He thought he could surprise me but I’ve gotten used to his tricks, at least for the most part.

“Haha, hi there, Lilia. Yes, I’ve almost finished up these new flower crowns. I apologize but I haven’t made one for you today.”

“Don’t worry about it, darling. Goodness, you truly do get your heart from your mother, yet you have your father's horns. You get your eye shape from your mother but your father’s eye color was so dominant in your genes it seems.” Lilia cooed as he placed his hand on my head between my small horns to gently ruffle my hair. I laughed gently and looked over the three flower crowns I had created. It took me a while because it was hard to remember the correct size of my father's head due to his large horns but I hope everything turned out well. Recently, my mother has been extremely ill. I don’t remember a day when she was the perfect picture of health, she had always seemed off, but her health rapidly decreased incredibly quickly over the last few months. Hopefully, the crown will make her feel better!

“LaLa, can you help me bring these crowns to mother and father? I think father is with mother in their room since it’s getting so late.” I asked Lilia, calling him by a nickname I had called him since I was born. He smiled a wide grin.

“Of course, Maelora, it would be my great honor to escort you to your parents.” He said cheerfully as he held out his arm for me to hold onto. I picked up all three flower crowns and carefully stood up from my blanket on the garden ground. Just as I wrapped my hands around Lilia’s arm, uncle Silver and uncle Sebek came running into the garden in sheer panic. They looked distressed and in a hurry. They panted as they tried to catch their breath.

“Lilia! Come quick, it’s important!” Sebek started since his breath recovered faster.

“Whoa, calm down! What is it? What could have happened so soon?” Lilia asked calmly yet confused.

“The queen! S-she…her illness! It’s gotten worse!” Silver was able to splurge out in pants. Lilia and I looked at each other in panic.

“Is Malleus with her?”

“Yes, but father, her time-“ before Silver could finish his sentence the sky of the Briar Valley began to rapidly swarm with dark and twisted clouds. Green lighting began to form within them. He was cut off by the harsh winds that blew along with the clouds. I knew who was doing that…my father. Something has happened.

“Take the princess and get her to her room immediately, she must not be allowed out until Malleus or I have said otherwise, is that understood?!” Lilia demanded Silver and Sebek. They saluted and offered me their hands for me to hold.

“No, what, why? Lilia, what’s going on?” I asked in fear. Lilia was quick to hand me off and now seemed to be in a very big rush.

“No time for questions, you have to go now! Please listen to me and be a good little princess! I promise I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Lilia, what’s going on with mother?! You have to tell me!” I begged him as Sliver and Sebek held onto my arm to keep me from chasing after Lilia.

“I can’t! I have to hurry before-“ Lilia was then interrupted by the longest and deepest, most heart-wrenching, bloodcurdling scream I have ever heard in my entire life, followed by loud green thunder and lightning strikes through the sky. The dark clouds turned black and the wind increased so much that it blew my mother's flower crown out of my little arms and completely into the air.

“Father…I think it’s too late…” Sliver said abruptly. Lilia went quiet as it began to pour rain on all of us. I looked around at all of them and noticed how all of their faces had fallen into dark shadows and auras of sadness began to radiate off each of them. I knew, but I didn’t want to believe why. I knew but young me was in strong denial. No one would ever wish for something like that to happen to them so suddenly.

~~~

The next day, I was in my room after a bath. Lilia did my hair and helped me get dressed but the entire time he was sad. Silver and Sebek were instructed with watching my door as to not let me out. Lilia enchanted my balcony in case I would try anything mischievous. So I was stuck in my room, confused and scared. I carefully crept to my door to try and see if I could talk to Silver. He’s the only one who actually tells me information.

“Are you sure it’s the right time? She’s so young. I don’t think she’d be able to handle the news.” I heard Silver say on the other side of the door. I place my ear gently on the door to hear more clearly. As a fae, I can hear from far distances but not much because of me being half human.

“My apologies, Lilia, but I have to agree with Silver on this one,” Says Sebek on the other side of the door.

“She is far too young, even by human standards, to know such heartbreaking information. I’m still in shock from the whole ordeal myself. It hasn’t even been fully processed in my head and I feel…conflicted and confused. I can only imagine her reaction when she finds out the news.” He continues, his voice straining slightly as he proceeded with his words.

“I understand. I cannot say that I agree with the idea of telling her so soon. But she does deserve to know. The entire kingdom of the Briar Valley will be in anguish and our friends will know nothing but grief for months.” Lilia says, although his voice sounds…cold. As if all emotion that could have been was washed away.

“Father, you can’t be serious. Give her another day.” I heard Silver insist.

“Another day of what? Locking her in her room with no knowledge of the truth and wallowing in confusion and concern?” Lilia snaps. “She must know… Malleus has reached that conclusion, even in his state of agony.”

“And what of our friends? Who will tell them?” Silver asked gently.

“We’ve already called upon them. Gather them to deliver the news. That way it’s easier for us all and we won’t have to repeatedly explain what happened. They will already be in the Briar Valley for the preparations, they at least deserve to see her one more time.” Lilia explained.

“I see…” was all Sebek said after that. A pause occurred for a moment, all I heard was their steady breathing.

“Princess, I know you’re there. You can come out now.” Lilia said nonchalantly. It startled me at first but not much. I reached for the doorknob and gently turned it. I opened it slowly into the castle hallway and stepped out of the threshold of my sleeping chambers. I peeked from behind the door over to the three guards. Silver and Sebek held gloomy expressions as they stared at me but Lilia had a gentle smile on his face. But if you look closely, his eyes…his deep crimson eyes…they were dull. Not out of anger or power, but of sorrow and emptiness. Yet that smile he holds is so melancholic. He holds it for me.

“Come with me, dear. Your father wishes to speak with you about something important.” He speaks gently as he stretches out his hand for me to take. I move away from the door and walk towards him hesitantly. I place my hand in his and he begins to gently lead me away. I look back behind me to Silver and Sebek. They seem beside themselves and void of light. I look forward once again, trying to think of the best. Lilia holds a smile on his face but he can’t hide his solemn emotions from me.

Lilia walks me up to the doors of my father's study. The room where he handles most of his Kingly duties by himself. Mother and I would sit with him near the fireplace and he would read us stories of the Briar Valley or I would find mother reading while my father worked on papers. They were inseparable for as long as I can remember. Even if father had to be gone long they would send letters. Even when mother would be gone to see uncle Ace and uncle Deuce in the Queendom of Roses, or going to the Sunset Savanna to visit Leona and Ruggie for royal occasions. No matter where they went, they would send each other letters. Their love is a bond that cannot be broken. Before mother’s health dropped she started to stay in the castle more often, then just a few months after, her health declined. I never understood why her health never seemed at its peak. When I would ask her or father they would change the subject. When I would ask Lilia, Sebek, or Silver, they’ll tell me not to worry and that it was not my concern for the moment. They said I’ll find out once I’m old enough. I always thought it was odd but I would listen to them. What else was I to do?

“Princess…your father asked me to tell you why your mother's health was always low. Would you like me to tell you now, or when you're older?” Lilia asked me abruptly, pulling me from my thoughts. I pause for a moment, not knowing how to answer. I simply shake my head. To others that would be a vague answer but to Lilia he fully understood. He nodded with a soft smile and released my hand from his.

“Tell me when you want to know. I just want you to be ready and calm. We all love you, Maelora. We just want you to be okay, safe, and happy.” He told me, his smile slightly fading. He gently knocks on the double doors of my father's study.

“Your father is in there waiting for you. Just open the doors when you’re ready.” And just like that, Lilia turned around without another word and walked away. I take a deep breath for a moment, trying to think about how to approach my father. I hesitantly put my hand on the doorknob and turn it. I slowly open the door and peek my head in. I saw my father standing in front of one of the windows, his back to me. I quietly step in and shut the door behind me. I take a few steps forward, the clicking of my shows being muffled by the giant dark green carpet that covered most of the stone flooring of the study.

“…father, you called for me?” I asked hesitantly. No reply from him back. This silent action made me more nervous.

“How’s mother? Is she doing any better?” I foolishly asked. I didn’t know what else to do. My father was never this quiet unless he was angered. I watched him for a moment and noticed that his hands started to tremble slightly. He was on the verge of collapsing and was visibly holding himself together by a thread.

“My dear Maelora, how do I say this to you?” He suddenly started, his voice slightly trembling. He turned around to face me, a soft smile plastered on his face. Yet his eyes were red and slightly puffy. He had been crying. His expression was one of pain and sadness.

“Sometime last night, your mother breathed your name. Then like a flame that flicked out too soon…far, far too soon, she…she died, she’s g-gone..” he tried to explain to me. Tears were streaming down his face and he collapsed to his knees on the ground. My eyes wide and in shock, not knowing what to do I ran over to my father. I kneeled to him and hugged him as much as my small arms could. My shock stopped me from crying, it hadn’t fully hit me. A shocking image for anyone to see: the Great Malleus Draconia on his knees, a mess, being consoled by his young, half-blood, daughter.

My father took a deep breath and looked at me even as tears covered his vision. His lime green eyes were now dark, his black hair slightly in disarray, and his smile holding nothing but pain. “She changed my life, she made my life worthwhile. Without her, I never would have known how great life can be. She taught me things I never would have learned. Not just about her world but about mine and she showed me that there are so many things wonderful about living. She has forever changed this kingdom for the better and there will never be another like her…but you. When you smile, I know a part of her lives on, I know the kingdom and I can go on.”

I smiled at my father as he placed a hand on my cheek. The tears now start to form in my eyes and a broken smile forms on my lips, knowing I will never see my mother again, knowing I will never hear her voice again. I wipe my father’s tears away gently.

“You have come of age with the new improvements of our dark nation. We’ll bleed and fight for you. Even if it seems that’s all we do, you and I together will build a strong foundation. I promise to be here for you, that way I’ll teach you how to blow them all away.” My father spoke as he wiped my tears with his thumb, still holding a smile on his face. Pulls me close and lifts me into his arms as he turns and we both look out the large window of his study that he had previously been looking through.

“Someday, yes my daughter, you’ll rule this kingdom as the first Half-blood Queen, and blow everyone away.”

~~~

I found it. The flower crown I had made for my mother all those years ago. I found it. I knew it was the same one from then because it was found outside the castle and the only flowers that hadn’t wilted were the green roses that were made from fathers magic. The only roses that grew in our special garden.

I walk up to my mother's grave, a beautiful statue of her befitting of a queen in place of a tombstone. I will never forget her voice, how she sang. How she and father would dance the nights away when they thought I was asleep. How she would whisper sweet nothings to me before I went to bed to assure me I am loved. She was nothing short of an angel.

I gently kneel and place the flower bouquet on her burial. “Hello again, mother. How are you today?” I ask her gently.

“Sorry I haven’t come to visit as of late. Leona insisted that I talk to him about matters between the Sunset Savanna and the Briar Valley since he and father got into another small quarrel. I can understand why you would visit the Sunset Savanna instead of father now, haha.” I told her as I stood up and placed the now fixed and renewed flower crown on the statue's head.

“In other news, the garden has gotten bigger. Father had it so the grounds would be extended and we could plant more bushes. You’d like it, I’m sure.” I continue to speak. The statue looked back at me with a gentle smile, a smile that resembled hers. But could never hold the same genuine warmth.

“…last night I had a dream. You were in it. You taught me how to dance the waltz-like the one you and father use to do. You sang me the song you and father used to sing together. It was like you were here again…” I looked into the statue's cold eyes. Eyes that looked like hers but would never hold the same life or light. I hesitantly reach out to place my hand on her face. It was cold and hard. Of course, it would be, it’s stone after all.

“You have her smile.” A voice suddenly spoke from behind me. A voice so familiar it’d be a crime if I didn’t recognize it. The voice that lead me all these years, even if he was busy with royal duties. I smile to myself and slide my hand away from the cheek of the statue.

Without turning to face him I ask, “Hello, father, how are you?”

“I’m perfectly fine. You were only gone for a mere few weeks, that’s nothing but a few days to me or even less.” He pauses as he steps closer.

“But to her…she would have said it was years. She couldn’t live without you close by. That’s why she took you with her for visits to wherever she went when she could.”

“I know, you told me that many times. No matter her state of health, she’d make time for her friends. Even more time for her family.” I reminisced. There is no other like her. So many people I have talked to. So many people who were kind and genuine. But her…she was different. It must be from the fact I am her child, but no one could match her light. Not to me. Not to my father. Not to our kingdom. She was like no other.

Father walks up next to me in front of the statue and places his hand on its head, careful of the flower crown I had placed on it. A melancholic smile on his face. I can see it in his eyes, the memories of him and mother flashing in his mind like it was yesterday.

A lingering question remains in my mind. A question I’m too afraid to ask in fear of an alternate answer from what I truly expect. But I ask it nonetheless; “…Do you blame me?”

The air tenses and I can now sense my father's eyes on me in confusion. So innocently he asks, “Blame you for what, my darling daughter?”

“Her not being here… Lilia told me the reason her health was always low. He said it was an after-effect of giving birth to me…” I continued. Lilia had recently told me the truth about my mother’s condition. I had been holding out on it but I got curious and now the thought of all of this being my fault couldn’t leave my mind. I needed an answer.

“My child. My only child. I indeed miss your mother dearly. She showed me that a world without pain doesn’t exist but a world with growth does. That is why I say now; it was not your fault.” My father said as he turned and gripped both of my shoulders.

“Your mother knew the consequences of having a child of fae - my child - a child so powerful it could kill her. She knew that no one of royal fae blood has ever had a human spouse, much less give birth to a half-blood royal fae child. She knew that there was a risk and she took it anyway, going against my and Lilia’s words of caution. We could not change her mind. She wanted you. She wanted us…as a family.” He continued, his lime green eyes staring into mine. Tears begin to well up, blurring my vision. I tried to hold them back but my father pulled me into an embrace and I started to bawl.

“Maelora Draconia, you are a gift. A gift that is more important to this world than they have yet to discover. Your mother loves you even in death. I will love you forevermore.” He smiles as he lifts my head to wipe away my tears.

“I miss her…” I say just below a whisper.

“I do too…” Father kisses me on my temple and moves his hands from my back. I grab his arm and turn the other way before waving to mother. As we walk away I strike up a conversation, just to break the silence. So I ask gently, “Father, do you mind telling me the story of how you met and fell in love with mother, again?”

“Not at all, my princess. It all happened, Once Upon a dream…”

#twst disney #twst #twisted wonderland #Diasomnia #Malleus Draconia #twst angst

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crownsofesha · 10 months

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Grand Duke Margaret of Mirstone

Their Grace, Grand Duke Margaret of Mirstone was the fifth child of King William II, Queen Anne, and Grand Princess Matilda (@trhor) born in 5693 (1933). TG married the then Marquess Illah Codington in 5719 (1959). The two of them had three children together, Prince Ephraim of Mirstone, Prince Sophia of Puttnam, and Prince Theodosia of Abbotsbury. TG was a working royal until 5754 (1994) when they were 61. Notable Patrons included The Horticulture Society (THS), The National Botanic Garden of Dulwick, and The Archeologist’s Society of Moorewood (TASM). TG is still alive and is 85 this year.

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all-my-worlds-a-stage · 8 months

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Song Tag

rules: pick a song for each letter of your url and tag that many people.

thanks for tagging me @fallingforfandoms oh boy, this took me a while. 17 is a lot of songs (as you might have noticed 😅)

A - Air - Till Brönner

L - Love of my Life - Queen

L - Let them Talk - Hugh Laurie

M - Mackie Messer - Hildegard Knef

Y - Yesterday - The Beatles

W - Would You Be So Kind - dodie

O - One-Trick Pony - Nelly Furtado

R - River - Joni Mitchell

L - Leichter - Madsen

D - Dear Theodosia - Lin-Manuel Miranda

S - Stairway to Heaven - Led Zeppelin

A - Achterbahn - Bläck Fööss (aus gegebenem Anlass 😅)

S - Space Oddity - David Bowie

T - Time Warp - Richard O'Brien

A - American Idiot - Green Day

G - Gute Nacht Freunde - Reinhard Mey

E - Egoist - Roland Kaiser/Roman König (zu guter Letzt for funsies und für meine fellow Wilhelmine Klemm enthusiasts 😌)

tagging (probably not 17 people and, as always, feel free to ignore <3) @shutyoureyes7 @somevaliantdust @kathastrophen @cricrithings @anotherobsessedfangirl @gleamingsilence @khalaris @bluespring864 @cornchrunchie @carlomenzinger @iiiflow and I can't think of any more people just now 😅

#tag game #music

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eddysocs · 7 months

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Introducing: Theodosia Ostaris

Fandom: Game Of Thrones

Face Claim: Angel Coulby

Full Name: Theodosia Andala Ostaris

Nickname/Alias/Pet Names: Queen of Meereen

Age: 27

Myers Briggs Type: ISFJ

Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw

Love Interest: Davos Seaworth

Collections: Seashells

Style/Clothing: Theodosia loves warm hues, especially oranges and reds. She tends to favor a more modest look, but more rich and intricate designs also suit her well.

Signature Quote: "I never sought finery. I merely wished for a good life, and one that brought me happiness in any form."

Plot Summary: When Daenerys leaves Daario in charge of Meereen, the transition is not smooth and the people seek one of their own to rule them. Listening to the peoples' plight, Daario chooses a queen, the daughter of a silk merchant who is widely loved by her city's people. Theodosia had no intentions of being queen, and certainly none of being wed to Daario, but her father pushes her to accept. She does, but on one condition; she wishes to choose her own husband to become king consort. Daario will stay on only as her advisor. Her terms accepted, everyone is shocked when she requests Davos Seaworth as her intended.

Forever Tag: @arrthurpendragon, @baubeautyandthegeek, @foxesandmagic, @carmens-garden, @fawera, @themaradaniels, @that-demigirl, @iloveocs, @bossyladies, @b1rvt4, @getawaycardotmp3, @misshiraethsworld, @kmc1989

#oc: theodosia ostaris #fc: angel coulby #fd: game of thrones

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luverofralts · 9 months

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Arkhelios Adventures

“What the hell is going on in here? Dad? You’d better be wearing pants!”

Crown Princess Theodosia of Crystal Cove stormed the main palace, looking angrily at the mess around her. Cups of wine and articles of clothing littered the front entryway and the princess was absolutely certain that she knew how they’d gotten there.

For most of her life, Theodosia had been cleaning up her parents’ messes. Her father loved to party and have countless meaningless flings, while her mother had thrown herself into dark magic and had been killed attempting to destroy the Grim Reaper with the delusional, nearly extinct Strangetown witch coven. Her twin siblings had never shared the burden of their parents with her, and since her sister, Holly, had died in the explosion with the queen of Twikkii Island, her brother had been even less helpful. While her father was a widower, his flings were no longer considered adultery, but his daughter still thought less of him for them.

She had been married to a near stranger, the former queen of Pleasantview Queen Charlotte II after a diplomatic incident required a sacrifice to Pleasantview be made. King Liam hadn’t asked his daughter what her thoughts on the matter were before the engagement was announced. He’d stood at her rushed wedding and grinned like this was all going according to his elaborate design. Theodosia loved her father, she truly did, but most days she felt like she was the parent in their relationship. Her mother had already been pressuring Liam to abdicate the throne in favour of their daughter for years when she died. If she were still alive, he may have gone through with it.

It was hard enough knowing that she had to run a country one day, Theodosia didn’t need the stress of being the default leader of her family, especially considering that her father was still alive and seemingly interested in filling the role. All his daughter could see was the seemingly endless political fires she had to put out due to Liam’s carelessness.

“Dad?”

The princess stormed past a group of party guests enjoying the sights of the palace from the kitchen floor. To her horror, she could vaguely recognize one of them as an occasional visitor from Arkhelios who she had the misfortune of meeting before under circumstances like this one, along with what she was desperately hoping wasn’t Twikkii Island’s palace head of security.

“Dad! We need to talk!”

As she suspected, Theodosia found her father wooing a man she wasn’t familiar with. She tried to breathe as her therapist had recommended, but staying calm was increasingly difficult with every second she stood there.

“Pelle, you’re amazing,” the king gushed, brushing his lips against the other man’s hand and watching him melt. “Maybe I could speak with the staff and organize a room for you so that we could spend more time together.”

“Absolutely not! Mom has been dead for just over a decade, and Holly less than six. We are not having any more scandals with you parading people younger than your children around the castle. Think of your reputation. Think of the country’s reputation. Do you really want Claudia to walk in here some day and evict you from your luxurious lifestyle because she’s convinced our people that she’s the better option compared to you?”

The king frowned, though he looked like he was weighing his daughter’s words.

“Claudia has no claim here,” he said at last in his defense. “Your mother is dead, and I’m not married, so who I decide to spend my time with is no one’s business but my own.”

“Do you really think that’s going to stop Pleasantview?” Theodosia hissed, glaring at the young man literally trying to hide behind her father. “That’s never stopped them historically and it won’t now. Unless you want to watch a second Crystal Empire take away your throne, you have to play your part. Mom’s not here to protect us anymore with whatever hellish dark magic she had and Pleasantview is still a prime suspect in Holly’s death. You are going to run this country into the ground if you don’t change things!”

“I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to cause a scene,” the young man said earnestly. “I never wanted to-”

“Pelle, relax. You haven’t done anything wrong,” King Liam sighed. “If I want you to stay here, then you’re allowed to stay here. Theodosia isn’t queen yet, even if it seems that she’s forgotten that fact. Her mother filled her head with nonsense about an abdication long ago and tried to bully me into doing it. The country is still here and thriving over a decade later, so what did she really know?”

Silence swept across the room as the princess continued to try to lower her blood pressure. Her mother had been terribly wrong about many things in life, but she hadn’t been wrong to suggest that her husband “retire” from the throne, especially when this current mess was the result of Liam making his own choices.

“Pelle, I’m sure you’re a nice person caught up in the glamour of the castle and my father’s...charms,” she said coldly, ignoring her father in favour of his lover. “You’re not the first person to do so, and I know that you won’t be the last. Let me tell you about your predecessors. I have four recognized half-siblings from my father’s many affairs. There are likely more, but those are just the ones I know about. The ones who grew up without a word from my father. The ones who had mothers and fathers plead with the palace for child support or for the father of their child to spend a single moment with his child. The ones that I write WInterfest cards to every year under my father’s name so that they don’t have to feel the same crippling rejection from their absent father that I do. You are nothing more than a plaything, a toy. He’ll get tired of you too, so be prepared and use protection. I would hate to see history repeat itself with you.”

“That’s both treason and unfair,” Liam growled, but quickly withered under the glare of his daughter. “I had a traumatic childhood. I didn’t have my parents to raise me or protect me or teach me how to endure a loveless marriage to your sociopath of a mother. I’m doing my best here. Everything is fine. There’s hardly rioting in the streets because I entertain guests in my private quarters.”

A vein in Theodosia’s head was beginning to throb angrily. She tried massaging it away with no luck. Some days she wished that her mother had been the one to survive the marriage and that her father had died in her place. Queen Celeste had been emotionally unbalanced, incredibly self-centered and frankly, an actual danger to society, but at least she owned it. Her mother had accepted blame and talked to her daughter about critical things that a ruler needed to govern effectively. She had had insight and ideas and strategies for her kingdom, where her husband...didn’t. One parent was maliciously ambitious and the other had spent his life running away from his problems. No wonder Theodosia had been plucking grey hairs from her head since her early twenties.

She wanted to rage and scream about the injustice in her life, but there was an audience and her mother had trained her better than to throw tantrums about her father’s childish behaviour in front of the public. Who was her father to whine about his orphaned childhood when Theodosia had never once been allowed to have a childhood at all? She’d been the one to try to clean up her parents’ messes, while also helping to shield her young siblings from the disaster that was their family.

“I have a meeting to discuss the Harvest Moon Ball,” she spat. “Something that the monarch should be doing. By all means though, you stay here and cry about your dead mom who you don’t even remember. My losing both my mother and sister could never compete with that, Your Majesty.”

The princess curtsied dramatically, mocking the respect she was supposed to have for her king and father. What she really longed to do was flip him off and shout obscenities like the frustrated teenager she was never allowed to be, but she was better than that. For his part, Pelle did try a clumsy bow as she retreated, though the princess was far too angry to notice.

"Your Majesty! What a surprise."

No sooner than when she’d entered the hallway, yet another situation appeared. Queen Claudia was in the main hallway, lazily looking at the portraits on the wall. Had talking about the threat Pleasantview posed somehow summoned the monarch or was this just exceptional bad luck?

Theodosia tried to suppress her surprise at the queen of Pleasantview and her heir just walking into the castle unannounced. Formality had never been Claudia's strong suit, and she clearly had no intention of changing. Theodosia remained convinced that Claudia enjoyed the element of surprise and the uneasiness it inspired.

From down the hall, Theodosia's wife, Charlotte, was just leaving the kitchen with a small snack in her arms. Her wife frantically signalled her to be on alert and Charlotte laid her snack aside and came running as elegantly as she could.

"Your Majesty," Charlotte said with a deep curtsy. "We didn't expect you here, what an honour."

Claudia couldn't help laughing at the situation, despite its seriousness. Charlotte had been the monarch that she'd replaced in Pleasantview and now she was bowing to Claudia. The whole thing was silly, but protocol was protocol. She and Charlotte weren't close and hadn't spoken outside of events in the past few years, so formalities needed to be established. She had Victoriana as an audience, looking for an example of how to treat foreign royalty.

"Your Highnesses," Claudia said, following proper procedure and not bowing or curtsying to either princess. Beside her, Victoriana remained silent. "I'm just visiting today. There's a matter I need to consult the archives about. A private matter. I've consulted the archives in Pleasantview, but I need some titles from your archives. I trust this is the estate where the records are kept?"

Theodosia nodded gracefully.

"Yes, since this is the king's formal residence, all the archives have been moved here as is the custom. Did you need any title in particular? I can summon the royal librarian to assist you if you'd prefer."

"It must be nice having so many royal residences that you have to move archives around," Claudia laughed. Theodosia's mask of politeness never slipped in reaction. "You guys have what? Three castles? Four? I'm jealous. I only have one royal residence and the ruins of the old one. I'm thinking of expanding my estate to catch up with you guys. Maybe add a few new houses."

Claudia watched the princesses closely, hoping that her light threat had hit her targets as she'd hoped. Neither woman moved from their place, still politely bowing and showing no reaction. Pleasantview had a history of absorbing Crystal Cove over multiple centuries, freeing it and then capturing it once again years later. There was a good reason why both women were so cautious of Claudia and it never hurt to remind them of why. Claudia had no intentions of going to war to conquer any country, but it was good to mention every so often that she always could if she ever changed her mind.

"I think I'll just poke around by myself for now," Claudia announced. "I'm looking for the archives regarding the Empress' reign. I assume that they'd be here?"

A worried look passed between Theodosia and her wife, though they tried to hide it.

"E-empress Anastacia?"

Claudia fought the urge to roll her eyes. It was hardly acceptable behaviour for a queen, but it was so tempting.

"Yes, there's only been one empress, unless I'm missing one," she replied irritably.

"But, she reigned over Pleasantview mainly, surely you have all the records you need in your archives. Everything from the Crystal Empire remains under your control, if I'm remembering correctly," Theodosia answered.

She was remembering correctly. There wasn't an inch of this castle or this government that she hadn't meticulously studied in preparation for her eventual ascent to the throne. Whatever Claudia was looking for should be in Pleasantview, or at the very least, be able to be sent to Pleasantview at the queen's request. Why did she need to arrive in a foreign country unannounced to look for records she already had?

"I'm sure having a quick look won't hurt either. Victoriana, stay with the princesses until I return," Claudia ordered. "It will be boring in the archives, so go explore with them. I'm sure you two don't mind looking after her for a bit?"

"Of course not," Theodosia said, clenching her teeth in a grimace she hoped was convincing. First she had to babysit her father and now she had to entertain a foreign princess without notice. She had had plans of her own for the day, but they had all been ruined, as usual.

"Have fun," Claudia called out, heading in the direction of the castle archives.

When she had disappeared from eyesight, both Crystal Cove princesses sighed deeply, releasing the breath they'd been holding.

"What do you want to do? We could play a game if you want," Victoriana suggested, oblivious to the tension in the air. "Or watch TV."

"I have to go for another meeting on the Harvest Moon Ball, I can't stay and babysit Claudia's kid on top of everything else. Make sure my dad's still wearing pants by the time the witch council meets tonight. Maybe someone on staff will look after the kid until Her Majesty is done pretending that she owns the place."

With that, Theodosia stormed down the hall, intent on accomplishing at least one of the items on her schedule.

#sims 2 #Arkhelios #arkhelios adventures #sim: theodosia alioto #theodosia alioto #sim: charlotte alioto #liam alioto #claudia goldman #Victoriana goldman #nathan chun #pelle Nykvist

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