#suggestions are welcomed HAHAHAHA | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

teecupangel · 8 months

Note

i read this fic where bayek becomes desmond's father and it got me thinking that he'd make such a great father for our stabby bois with daddy-issues hahahaha best founding father ever

Bayek found them by accident.

Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that Senu found them while he was connected to her. He felt her take over and Bayek had been surprised.

The only time Senu had ever taken over when Bayek was connected to her was when she noticed that Khemu had been a babe and had gotten out of the house without anyone realizing it.

That was the reason why Bayek knew that it was important to let Senu take control.

And she showed them to him.

Four children, the oldest being perhaps ten or nine years old while the youngest could have only been a few months old.

They all wore simple white robes, the whiteness having been dulled by dirt. The oldest held the small baby in his arms, glaring at Bayek with golden eyes.

They all looked quite similar to one another, especially the two oldest boys so Bayek had assumed they were brothers.

… and orphans.

The oldest boy was the one to answer all his questions but he only gave out his name.

Altaïr.

They were staying in a rickety house that looked abandoned and Bayek couldn’t help but be worried. He had been in the area to help build the bureau so he had asked the two Hidden Ones stationed there if they could keep an eye on the children.

“What children are you talking about, Amun?”

What children?

That questioned plagued Bayek.

They have not seen any orphans around the area, they said.

And Bayek believed them.

No.

It was more accurate to say…

He believed that they didn’t see any children.

Which meant that these children were able to stay out of their way for many months now.

Perhaps even years.

Bayek visited them once more, bringing a basket filled with fresh baked bread.

But they weren’t in the house.

Connecting with Senu proved to be the right call.

Bayek could not find them but he knew Senu saw them when she took over their connection once more.

They had moved into another abandoned house…

And it seemed that they were not surprised when Bayek entered their new home.

The oldest of them simply looked annoyed.

Bayek knew that his intrusion was not welcomed so he simply left after placing the basket in the middle of the room.

The following day, he checked with Senu once more.

And, as he had guessed, the children had changed home once more.

It truly says a lot about the current situation here that there were many abandoned buildings and homes that four small children could use without anyone knowing.

He brought them food once more.

But this time, he also brought fresh goat milk.

And left with the feeling of those golden eyes glaring at his back.

This went on for weeks.

Bayek always made time to bring the children food wherever they go.

At some point, they started to return to their previous locations but never in the same pattern…

It was always random.

And Bayek found himself smiling when he saw them wearing the clothes he had bought for them. Just as simple as their white robes but cleaner.

The baby that was usually in one of the older children’s arms would even wave his hand at him as if to greet him.

And he finally learned the other boys’ names.

Ezio was the second oldest and was the one who talked to Bayek with a lighter tone than his older brother. His name and his smile made Bayek remember Esio but that boy was in Rome right now, being trained to be a Hidden One by Aya.

The third oldest boy was named Ratonhnhaké:ton and he was usually quiet. The first few times Bayek had problem saying his name, he had suggested to just call him Connor but Bayek could see the annoyance in Altaïr’s eyes and the frown decorating Ezio’s face. As well as the understanding and resignation in Ratonhnhaké:ton’s face. So Bayek never called him Connor. The first time he was able to say Ratonhnhaké:ton’s name without messing up, Ratonhnhaké:ton looked surprised for a brief moment before he smiled at Bayek for the very first time.

The youngest of them was Desmond and he’s always being carried by one of his brothers. They were protective of the child, perhaps a bit too overprotective in Bayek’s eyes, to be honest. But Desmond was a quiet baby and Bayek had wondered if perhaps the baby could not talk but he would make cooing sounds and babble softly at times.

It was like…

Desmond was taught to be quiet.

They all were.

“Altaïr…”

Altaïr turned to look at the entrance of their 16th safehouse and nodded as he greeted back, “Bayek.”

The old man who had continually followed them no matter how many times they changed safehouses stayed at the other side of the small hole, crouching so he could see inside.

“Ba! Ba!” Desmond waved his hands at Bayek and Altaïr kept his hold on the baby firmly, knowing that, given a chance, Desmond would crawl towards the old man. Desmond had been crawling all over and all of them had been worried that he’d hit his head on something.

“Where’s Ezio and Ratonhnhaké:ton?”

“Out.” Altaïr replied vaguely. He knew the old man knew how they would steal food and other items they need from the richer part of the city and always had that small frown whenever Altaïr made vague comments concerning their lifestyle.

It wasn’t like the daily food would be enough for them, after all.

And Desmond needed more than just goat milk.

“I will be leaving tomorrow.”

“I see.”

“If it’s alright with you four, I-”

“We’re not joining your cult.” Altaïr cut him off as he dangled a bell in front of Desmond.

Desmond giggled and grabbed the bell, successfully getting distracted from crawling towards Bayek.

“It’s not a cult.” Bayek sighed and Altaïr didn’t bother to tell him they knew that. They just enjoyed calling it a cult even if it wasn’t true.

“And I know you four have been playing tricks on them.” Bayek said, trying to not sound like he was scolding Altaïr. The two Hidden Ones had been the target of harmless pranks for months now, including a very memorable incident where Ezio had actually managed to steal their coin purses that he returned to them… in the bureau after he and Ratonhnhaké:ton had sneaked in.

But Bayek could not afford himself to get distracted.

He was here on an important mission after all.

“I wasn’t going to suggest that you stayed in the bureau. I was going to ask…” Bayek stared at Altaïr as he asked, “… would you four like to join me in my travels?”

Altaïr stared at him for a moment before he looked away as he said, “I’ll talk to my brothers about it.”

Bayek’s lips curved into a small smile, already knowing that would be Altaïr’s answer, “Then… I will be leaving at dawn. I will wait in the east gate.”

He pushed the basket of food into the hole before leaving, knowing Altaïr would simply find it annoying if he was to try and plead his case.

All he could was hope.

And wait for tomorrow.

I think the fic nonny is talking about is Haris by CherShare. Do give it a try if you’re interested.

#is this reincarnation?#time travel?#transmigration?#idk #you decide #i guess #yeah even if desmond is a baby #bayek is used to including him into the conversation #because the others do so #assassin's creed #desmond miles #altaïr ibn la'ahad #ezio auditore #ratonhnhaké:ton #connor kenway #bayek of siwa #ask and answer #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed

241 notes · View notes

rinsuniverse · 9 months

Note

Hii hiii moreeee scenarios aaaaaahhh what are your thoughts on woozi's s/o being independent and a workaholic like woozi? like the members tease him that she is his karma in terms of overworking hahahaha and maybe woozi clinging or whining that she is also a workaholic

woozi with a workaholic partner! ✧˖°.

this is so cute

it's past midnight already, so woozi saves his work and leaves his studio, headed straight to your home!

when he gets there, he walks over to your room to see you're not even there!

instead, he notices how colored lights and soft music is coming from underneath your office room door (imagine you have your own office in your house)

he knocks on the door before walking in

and you're seated at the desk, typing into your keyboard

"hey, i'm home," he says, and you swiftly turn to look at him, sparing him a smile before going back to your work

"welcome home, ji"

"you're still working? it's almost 1am," he says, pulling up a seat to sit next to you

"yep, still busy," you say, sorting through the things on your monitor

"maybe we should head to bed?" he suggests slowly, pouting his lips.

"you can go ahead. i'm not done with this yet," you smile, not parting your eye contact you have with the monitor

he kind of sits there and looks at you, amazed

he contemplates in his head

he wants to be an understanding boyfriend who lets you do whatever you want, whenever you want

but also... a part of him wants to drag you to bed because he doesn't want to go to sleep alone after his long day of work

"y/n, i think you should call it a night..," he says slowly, kind of dragging out his words

"i still have to get through all of these tasks, i'm sorry," you say, turning to look at him

you give him a kiss on the cheek before going back to your thing

he thinks about how you're such a workaholic

he wonders "is this what the members think of me?" and "am i like this a lot?"

he looks around your well decorated office before turning over to you again

he gets up from his seat and walks over to the door, but before his hand reaches the knob, he tilts his head and then turns back around

"have you eaten?" he asks, walking towards you again

"yeah, some snacks," you say, pointing to the wrappers and soda cans you have in your trashcan

"have you eaten properly?" he asks, but feels the need to stop himself

who is he to scold you about this stuff when he doesn't take that good care of himself either?

"i'm not that hungry," you say, turning to look at him. "i've been drinking lots of water like you requested the other day, though."

he nods, looking at you

"are you going to bed now?" you ask, not turning back to your work just yet

"no, i'll just wait for you," he says, pursing his lips

"you really don't have to-"

"come on, let's go to bed togetherrr," he almost whines, which catches you off guard

you look at him, your eyes wide and your eyebrows furrowed

"are you... whining?" you say quietly, almost laughing

"i'm going to bed alone. goodnight," he says, walking to the door

but he stops again

he really wants you to go to bed with him

he walks over to you

picks you up (if you're not comfortable with that, he'll just firmly grab your forearm so you'll follow him)

and drags you over to your bedroom where he places you on your bed

"yah, i didn't even get to save my work," you say, in complete disbelief

"it's time for bed," he says, tucking you into your side of the bed underneath the blankets

he walks over to his side and gets into the bed, pulling you so your head is resting on his chest

"you work too much, y/n," he says, scoffing

"me? working too much? that's crazy coming from you," you smirk, relaxing into him

"take breaks sometimes. let's both not be workaholics sometimes. plus, don't let me go to bed alone," he says the last part quietly, almost sarcastically, but you know he means it

thank you so much for requesting, anon! feel free to request many, many more things from me ✧( ु•⌄• )◞◟( •⌄• ू )✧

(p.s. requests are still open! i specialize in woozi stuff, but i don't mind writing about other svt members! i can also do some nsfw if you want! so request whatever and as much as you want! ς(>‿<.))

127 notes · View notes

asmolfolk · 11 months

Note

Hi! Could I have some headcanons for Ares with an s/o (gn, so everyone identifies themselves) who likes to touch/play with his hair? This big boy didn't get much screen time without that damn helmet, but I would love to poke that curl of his like a cat at play, hehehe

And if it's not asking too much, what would be the reaction of Zeus, Hermes and Hercules seeing Ares with his s/o in his lap, playing with his curl while they have a normal conversation apart from the fact that s/o looks like a cat, lol

Amo seus posts <3

☁︎Oooh! Welcome back, my sweetest! ^^☁︎Thank you for your request, pretty cute and lovely I may add. It was really fun writing about this lil' dumb guy. ☁︎Hope that you are having a great day! E EU AMO VOCÊ <3333

☁︎`✦ ˑ ִֶָ 𓂃⊹

༻✦[Fandom]༺ ✩Shuumatsu No Valkyrie ༻✧[Character]༺ ✩Ares ༻✦[Request]༺ ✩Ares x S/o who likes to touch/play with his hair.

☁︎`✦ ˑ ִֶָ 𓂃⊹

Being fully honest, Ares just loves when you touch or play with his hair. He loves when you just sit on his lap and take off his helmet and then starts running your fingers through his hair.

It didn’t matter where or when, he would always be there, standing still and letting you do so.

For your S/O, there’s no better thing than knowing you are so in love with him that you would do something like that.

For Ares, this feeling is way more than just love… Being this chill with someone, not even having to say anything… It’s just so unbelievable.

For the GOD OF WAR… You taking off his helmet is a way of saying ‘I love you, as a God, as my partner and as yourself…’ It’s a physical way of showing him that he is loveable and that you stayed for HIM.

With that being said, I believe that Ares wouldn’t mind quite a bit. He thinks it’s cute enough.

"S/o? Why did you stop...? Wait- N-No... I-I wasn't wanting for more... Well, MAYBE I was wanting you to continue..." "Okay... I will admit, I like it very much, my warrior... I just... Can't, your hands are so skilled in everything... And yet, they aren't like mine. Your hands are soft, gentle and it carries no harm to me..." "I feel myself wanting more and more of you each time." - Ares wasn't one to deny that he loves being pampered by you... But, sometimes, he feels like he shouldn't show how much this matters to him... He doesn't want you to feel obligated to do this everyday... He wants you to do it because you like it too...

But - don’t get me wrong tho - He isn’t like that when there’s people around. Not that he is embarrassed, it’s more of a respect thing - If there’s other people in the room, he wouldn’t let this happen… But would cuddle a lot with you afterwards, reassuring you that it was because he isn’t too big in PDA.

He is too ‘shy’... Sometimes.

If anyone says that “It’s okay to do that” while they were there this MAN LITERALLY LOOKS AT YOU WITH PUPPY EYES.

Don’t let him waiting-

If you do so, he will worry and ask if everything is okay… While kissing your face- He doesn't care about the people now.

They can watch AND DIE JEALOUS HAHAHAHA

He is such a hopeless romantic.

As always, you were looking directly at your God of War… The goodest boy in all Olympus, Ares. Sitting on his lap while just playing with his hair, you could feel all of his worries being vanished by the mere touch of your finger. In those moments, you realize how in love he is… It’s so sweet. Yet, you always were lost when Ares did that with you too or when he started to kiss your hands… It was just so sweet of him… Unknowing to you, there were three ‘fofoqueiros’ or spies watching your interaction with your partner. Their eyes were focused on the way you treated Ares and how he reacted to every touch. Zeus was in a complete shock! He didn’t expect THIS at all. “Oh- OHHHH- MY SON-” He is cutted by Hermes, suggesting him to be quiet. Hermes was still with a composed and calm facade, even though he was invested in seeing what this could lead into… And poor Heracles was so lost! He covered his own eyes, not wanting to be a third… Or fifth wheel. “…I didn’t expect him to be so in love with this… Person.” Hermes said with a grin, he didn’t see you as nothing less than a… Peasant. “Quite a match.” “…They are so cute! B-But looking is wrong! We should go away!” Heracles said, trying to get out of here without moving, but ended up almost tripping- “Shhh, don’t be the party pooper.” Said Zeus with a big smile. “And be quiet, you two… This old man needs some romantic tea.” Zeus was looking directly at you lovebirds… He was with a sweet yet devilish smile on his face. But inside, he was actually proud of his son - he thinks you are a good catch and he actually doesn't mind this show of affection, he thinks it’s cute and he is actually invested into this relationship. Hermes wasn’t looking at it too much, he was more interested in the reaction of the other 2… He doesn’t actually care about this… [He actually thinks it’s a good fanfiction material that he will write it down later-] Heracles thinks that he shouldn’t even think about prying into your and Ares’s private matters. And they wouldn’t interrupt any one of you- And Heracles would FORCE them to get the fuck out-

#shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie #snv x reader #ror x reader #x reader #headcanon #shuumatsu no walkure #gender neutral reader #gn reader #reader insert #snv ares #ror ares #ares x reader #greek gods

111 notes · View notes

cheesus-doodles · 2 years

Note

Would the yandere toman boys be jealous if darling got a pet, I imagine that kazutora and Baji would be conflicted between fighting or fawning over the little beast, meanwhile Mikey is ready to throw hands because the pet keep hogging you and sleeping on their fav spots

This is the ask I accidentally left on someone else’s blog, I was so mortified, they said they weren’t that into the fandom so I can only imagine how confused they must have been 😭

HAHAHAHA sorry it took so long to reply ya anon! don't worry about it, they probably understand it was just a mis-send ^^

‎‎Recommended Readings: A Friend In Me Chapter 1 | 2

Masterlist

‎

Gonna go with a cat here since Baji already canonically takes care of Peke J. Be it where you got the cat, be it one of those community cats that you help look after, or a new stray that you picked up because it just looked so lonely and its meow was so sad and you didn’t had the heart to chase it away after it followed you home all the way from school, the boys are non too pleased when you turn up with your new pet, doe eyes shimmering with excitement, blabbering about how cute your new friend was.

The six boys probably felt their heart stop when you said you had decided to keep the kitty as your pet - and you would have all six boys instantly trying to jump in and tell you why it is an absolutely horrible idea to do that. Draken and Mitsuya would go for the logical appeal, insisting that you were already too busy with school (and them of course), and that if you had to look after a pet as well, you would collapse from exhaustion. Pah would insist that it was dangerous - you didn’t know what kind of bugs and diseases that the cat had, and that you would get sick if you brought the cat into your house. Mikey and Kazutora would straight up tell you that they wouldn’t stand for you keeping a pet because it would steal your time and affection and attention away from them and that was absolutely unacceptable and they wouldn’t stand for it. Meanwhile Baji’s already distracted trying to get the kitty to play with him and bribing it with a few loose cat treats he found in his pocket.

You just blink at them in confusion, pointing out that Baji has a cat too, and that you would definitely take care of your kitty well, starting off with making sure it was disease-free and in tip top shape by taking it to the vet, and that the boys were welcomed to come along to the pet shop to pick up supplies if they wanted to. Of course they would reluctantly slink along, the more mature of the boys graciously allowing the babies of the group to hold your hand on the journey there, but no doubt Baji definitely gets a lot of heat from the others for the crime and sin of suggesting that having a pet cat was fine, especially so from an infuriated Mikey and Kazutora. This black-haired boy would be even more trouble if the kitty turned out to be a boy - instant banishment from your bed, no cuddles for life (okay maybe for a week, you didn’t understand why the others were being so mean and Baji whimpering to himself eventually hurt you enough that you overruled them).

Kazutora wouldn’t be conflicted in the slightest - be the first to get jealous, starting right from the beginning at the sight of the cat rubbing its little face into your leg. How dare it mark you as its own?! You were his, and Kazutora wouldn’t stand for anything else. And seemingly everything else it did was just to taunt him about what it could get away with - sleeping in your lap and getting head pats and belly rubs, with you chasing the boys away and instead choosing to aww at that little shit. Pawing at your shower door only for you to let it in with you, while he had to cry outside and wait for you to come out. No doubt this baby boy comes away with the most scratches out of everyone trying to bat at the cat and chase it away from you, only for Kazutora to turn around and whine to you for more love because he got some booboos. You still love him right?

Mikey would obviously be the next to put his foot down when you forbade him from cuddling just because that thing picked that exact same time to huddle in your lap. One time was bad enough, but the cat crossed a line when he was banned from his turn to get night cuddles because it decided to fall asleep in the crook of your leg after kneading your blanket and you didn’t have heart to wake your new baby. Absolutely not, this baby would throw a full tantrum if you didn’t stop this nonsense right now. He was the baby, not this… homewrecker. Mikey would attempt to convince you to remove the cat (as his attempts to move it out himself have failed miserably) by trying to set up your pet to fail - making a mess and then blaming it on your cat, adding fur into your drinks, and if all else fails, scratching himself and then blaming it on your cat, and guilt-tripping you into picking either him or it. A few days of cuddles, forehead kisses and a healthy bribe of taiyaki generally helps to settle this boy back down into a comfortable stalemate.

Baji would definitely be the most conflicted of the Toman bunch - he absolutely loves cat, and he absolutely loves your cuddles and headrubs. But you having your own cat wasn’t exactly what he wished for, given he gets less of the latter, and not to say that you’re the only one that kitty allows to pick it up, the chosen human. Anyone else that tries gets a hiss, and at best the cat skitters/crab-walks away, and at worst they get a taste of those knife claws. Honestly, this baby boy still treats your pet cat the best, spoiling it with home cooked food and the expensive canned wet food, buying it toys and treats, in a hope that getting on your cat’s good side will also earn him more love and attention from you. Plus point if the cat finally allows him to pet it and snuggle with him as well. Gets accused of being a traitor, but Baji’s just soft to animals. You give him a few extra forehead kisses for his dedication and sneak him his favourite homemade snack when the others aren’t watching.

Mitsuya would most likely try to make use of his sisters, either to at least try and minimise the amount of your time the cat takes - bringing them round to your place whenever possible, allowing them to fall in love with the little thing, playing with it and feeding it treats (and of course, teaching them how to respect the cat’s boundaries like a good older brother should to keep them safe). Hopefully one day his sisters’ begging to you to let them bring it home with them would get through to you, and maybe you would let them for a day or two, and he would have you all to himself. In the meantime, Mitsuya works with Draken to distract the cat as much as they can while the other gets cuddle time with you, and then switch around as agreed upon. It worked so far in getting them some alone time with you and has kept both you and your pet happy, so in their eyes its a win-win.

298 notes · View notes

lunarmoonanons · 1 year

Text

The Rogue Prince and The Precious Princess

🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕

Daemon plays with the Small Dragon princess, aiming his sights on her for the future.

🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕

Masterlist

The Keep was finally lively again. Due to the success of Maegelle reconciling her parents, the court welcomed back the good Queen and her two sweet daughters. Now at age 6, YN could run about the Keep with her favorite playmate, Daemon. The 9 year old boy had always enjoyed playing with YN, even if she was 3 years his junior; the two would be seen playing tag, or skipping around the yards, or even sneaking around the gardens when they could sneak out of Alysanne’s sight for a moment. Now the two were running around the Keep chasing the other around, much to the delight of the nobles and guards whom they dodged.

“You can’t catch me, Daemon!” YN giggled and swerved around a guard who smiled at the little princess.

“Just you wait!” Daemon teased, he was slowing himself down purposefully to lengthen the game. When YN turned a corner he sped up and slid across the floor to get her.

But when he turned the corner, YN was not in sight. Tentatively, he stepped forward and looked around for her. Ears perked when he heard giggling behind a pillar. YN was hiding from him. Catching a peek of her dress behind one, Daemon swerved around the pillar to jump out at YN. When YN peeked her head out to see Daemon, she was confused when his image did not appear. Suddenly, two hands reached out behind her and tickled her sides, sending YYN into a fury of laughter.

“Caught You!” Daemon laughed, pleased with himself as he sent YN into unstoppable laughter.

“Let.. HAHA…Let me…. HAHAHA… Let me GO! HAHAHAHA!” YN laughed hysterically and squirmed in his hold. When he finally let her go, YN remained smiling at the silver haired boy. “So, what should we play now?”

“Hmmm. Hide n Seek?” Daemon offered, taking long dramatic steps to circle around YN who copied his goose steps.

“Nah, I keep getting lost and Mommy gets sad when ‘m lost.” YN responded, twirling her silver hair.

“How about hops?” Daemon asked, smiling at the game where they’d bounce around the castle and keep it up till they saw the King or Queen.

“My legs are too tired. Let’s play a new game!” YN suggested, excited at her new idea.

“What about Marriage?” Daemon asked, thinking of the game he heard some of the court ladies’ daughters who played the same game with their perspective beaus.

“What’s that game?” YN asked, tilting her head dramatically to let her hair dangle.

“We pretend to be married and call each other husband and wife. And we have to stay together the entire time.” Daemon said hoping YN would agree. His father always said that he might marry YN, so in his mind they were just practicing.

“Wouldn’t you play this game with Gael? She’s around your age. Daddy says ‘m too small to ever marry.” YN asked him, now suddenly wanting to find Gael and include her in their games.

“I don’t want her. She’s too simple for me. I wanna play with someone who can keep up!” Daemon whined and held out his hand. “Please? Just for today?”

“Mkay.” YN relented and grabbed his hand, not noticing how tight he began to grip his small hand.

“Perfect! Now let’s go to the throne room, wife!” Daemon smirked at his triumph.

“Yes yes, hubband.” YN giggled and skipped alongside him.

“Husband.”

“S’what I said.”

The two young ones skipped around the keep, smiling at the people and calling each other their new titles. No one seemed to raise an eyebrow at it, since so many like Prince Baelon assumed the two would be wed one day as was custom in the Targaryen line. YN was giggling and enjoying the fake title she had now, but not as much as Daemon enjoyed it. This was more fun than practicing his Valyrian or reading histories. Though not as fun as swordplay, or flying with his father on his father’s dragon, he did enjoy his time with YN. He, like others, loved the little princess the minute she graced the Keep with her bright smile. The two were playmates when she began to walk around as his father designed it. The queen did want him to play with Gael, but Daemon found her to be too boring and dull, but YN was fun. She indulged his games and could keep up with the prince. Daemon had missed her when the queen took her away to Dragonstone, he had asked his father as to why YN was going away but Baelon could give no satisfying answer to the boy.

Once the two had made it to the throne room, YN let go of Daemon’s hand and ran up to the throne. Much to Daemon’s dismay.

“YN…” Daemon whined. “Your supposed to keep hold of my hand, wife.”

“Come to the chair with me!” YN smiled and waved him over. When he found his way over, YN grabbed his hand again and brought him up to the throne. “Daddy lets me sit on the chair with him sometimes.”

“It’s called a throne.”

“Drone.”

“Throne.”

“That’s what I said.” YN waved off his comment.

YN pulled Daemon up the steps so that the two may directly sit on the throne. Daemon hissed at the slight pain the swords gave him when he sat on the Iron throne. The two managed to both sit the throne at the same time. YN kicked her feet around, while Daemon gaped at how long the room looked from this throne. He smiled at YN who returned it with her own bright and wide smile. With a boldness, like Alyssa before him, Daemon lifted YN’s tiny hand to his mouth and placed a kiss sweetly on it.

“You and I will be married one day. And I’d be the kindest husband to you. I’d take you for a ride on my dragon every day, and we’d-”

“And you’d what? Daemon.” A loud voice interrupted them. Jaehaerys entered the throne room with a slight scowl on his face.

“Daddy!” YN jumped off the throne and ran to her father, laughing when he lifted her up to his arms. “We were playing a new game! And we ran around the keep together! I escaped my tutor and tried to find you but I couldn’t so I found Daemon and we played chase. And-”

“Hush. Hush YN. I can’t understand you when you speak so fast.” Jaehaerys chuckled at his daughter’s ramblings. Several other lords had made their way into the room, intending to speak to the king and smiling at the sweet sight of Jaehaerys holding his daughter. “Now. What game were you playing?”

“Nothing… just a silly game called marriage.” Daemon mumbled and hopped down from the throne.

“Hmm. And what makes you think you’d wed YN?” Jaehaerys contained his anger at the thought of someone taking YN away from him. “I do not think you are worthy enough to marry her. No one is.”

“Your majesty… do you not intend to wed her off eventually?” A lord asked, confused that Jaehaerys aimed to keep YN unwed her whole life.

“I cannot deny that I have never wished to see YN wed. I am happy with her company and do not in the least want a separation.” Jaehaerys gave YN a tight hug and then turned his gaze to Daemon who did not waver in his glance. “And you must get back to your studies. Perhaps then you will be worthy for her. But I doubt it.”

With that, Jaehaerys dismissed the boy who’s face was red with anger and pride. Daemon collected himself as best a child could and made his way back to his rooms so that he could finish his studies. He would be worthy of YN. He’d show the old King that he’d be a strong man and a worthy match for the most precious princess.

@missglaskin

#yandere jaehaerys #yandere hotd #yandere house targaryen #house targaryen #jaehaerys targaryen #daemon targeryan #tagaryen x reader #targaryen reader #yandere targaryens #asoiaf #asoiaf x reader #The Small Dragon

298 notes · View notes

noodlenibblescribble · 3 months

Text

Episode/Fanfic Suggestion Before The Episode 'Dad Beat Dad'

I LOVE the story beats of Hazbin Hotel, the episodes are pretty good but for these recent two, it felt like we could have had one more ep before them in order to make things hit deliciously harder. Here's my pitch for one:

An episode that starts with Charlie and Vaggie finding one of Angel's drug stashes. They tell him he needs to quit to actually start 'reforming'.

Angel makes the point that the drugs have been his coping mechanism for a long time ('Oh no, yeah sure, let me just quit cold turkey and not need them anymore after years of this shit. So easy.')

Alastor walks in, laughing, saying something akin of 'rehabilitation isn't going to happen, he cane as an addict, he's been an addict, he's going to keep doing it'. It gets in Angel's head, visibly upsetting him. Charlie gets mad at Alastor and tells him that they're going to make it happen.

Charlie makes a lesson plan for the next day about trying to look for alternatives to drugs. It's clear that Charlie's suggestions are a little superficial and out of touch (between grandma activities and health guru stuff, it's not actually helpful).

Vaggie sees Angel get frustrated and suggests doing something *he* might like- 'No it can't be sex or violence, Angel.'

Angel gets a song about finding out what else he can do after years of cycling through the usual bad habits, cute stuff about trying different things he thinks are interesting with the others and having fun with it. He settles on an activity for today (idk maybe trying to draw/paint) and is bantering with Husk about his lack of skill, but you know it's friendly and encouraging.

Charlie looks on with pride, Alastor follows behind her and tells her 'You know he hid more stuff in another location'.

She tells him that Angel was right that morning, it'd be bad to quit cold turkey but she's happy she can help him find other outlets so that he can slowly occupy his time doing other things too; that it's important to keep him motivated to want to change. There are no instant solutions. This is a process and she's proud of his growth.

At Alastor scoffing, she breathes and apologizes to him for getting mad earlier today, but clarifies that even if this is just entertainment for him, she still genuinely believes in it, and the proof is right here. With how much better Angel is doing. It's working. So, she will always believe that with enough patience and kindness, anyone can change. And you know, maybe... even Alastor can.

Alastor laughs maniacally like it's the funniest thing he's ever heard, 'HAHAHAHA ME? CHANGE? WHY WOULD I WANT THAT? HAHAHAHA HOW PREPOSTEROUS!!' but as he steps away, he looks at Charlie joining Angel/Husk/Pentious/Nifty doing their thing, talking to them like a proud teacher and about the plan for tomorrow's lessons, and idk.

His grin drops to a closed smile. 'Hm. Well, this was unexpected.'

And he steps back into the shadows.

Imagine Dad Beat Dad and Welcome to Heaven coming after that. Alastor confirming to the audience that Charlie has somewhat won him over and that he likes her like a daughter with more build up. It'd be so extra satisfying that we'd gotten to see firsthand how he's stuck around and actually has started believing in her as opposed to her dad. Plus, it makes Vaggie using 'Angel has less drug hiding spots' sound like an actual win to the audience, and when we see Angel at the club taking care of everyone *chef's kiss* we'd have gotten two Angel development episodes instead of one, seeing him get to that point.

That's it, I'm just throwing this humble proposal to anyone that is like me and wants an idea to better link the last batch of episodes and now. 👍

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin charlie #hh alastor #hh angel dust #charlie morningstar #alastor #angel dust #hazbin hotel blurb #blurb #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hh charlie #vaggie

19 notes · View notes

rollingubeomgyu · 4 months

Text

FLIGHT 231218 : rollingubeomgyu ⋆ ★

hello everyone! i am finally opening my account as a writing blog and i will try to start officially writing! my old works are NOT going to be archived since idk.. they were a social experiment..? ANYHOW! WELCOME TO MY INTRO! i'm ren, a filipino artist, writer, voice actor, and stan of a lot of things! my timezone is gmt+8 and school is an asshole so maybe i might update slowly.. (never posted that akaashi fanfic lol, i forgot about the plot) my number one skill is procrastinating! if not writing. i guess. HAHAHAHA. anyway.. I WILL MAINLY BE WRITING FOR. . . [self inserts or oc] & [ships] may include: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, slight suggestive but no smut. > haikyuu!! > kpop including , , , seventeen, tomorrow x together, enhypen and astro > genshin impact and... not only that, but i accept requests! just go to my requests/inbox and you can drop anything there! like anything, like any side stories to oneshots i'll write, or ideas, or just hang by! doesn't need to be a request :) also yes, i will take anons for this account and i actually don't.. request on other people's pages so you'll just find me here. i'm very sneaky as a reader. ANYWAY! aside from my main fandoms, requests are open to... > my hero academia > demon slayer > project sekai > other kpop groups other than those mentioned (if i'm not familiar with them, i might not be able to do it, but i will try!) > spiderverse (check out @nicostenz he's awesome) > mcyt but, i will strictly state this. DREAM STANS/PEOPLE WHO SUPPORT DREAM IN ANY WAY, DO NOT INTERACT WITH MY ACCOUNT. (i will be very nitpicky with MCYT requests, because of drama/problematic creators, and since i haven't been in the fandom for a long time running since i left TT.) want a free blog suggestion though? @checkingunpowderpower she's the best y'all

[fun fact though, i've been a technoblade fangirl for 3-4 years already, crazy, right? RIP :') i love people who still write for him (to honor his memory) and maybe you'll see a techno fic here. idk. ] probably won't see me writing. . . > anything nsfw, incest, lolicon, noncon, etc. > marvel I HAVE REASONS OKAY I'M NOT AS EDUCATED AS @siennafrxst when it comes to the topic and I DON'T WANNA BUTCHER YOUR FAVS anyway visit her account > anything illegal bruh please 😂🫵 ANYONE IS WELCOME IN MY ACCOUNT! js dont be weird lol i dont write smut though i read dont call me out on that 💞 SEE YOU GUYS AROUND! — all rights reserved to rollingubeomgyu. 2023

22 notes · View notes

therealpizzaheadiswear · 4 months

Text

HAHAHAHA! HELLO! HI!

Welcome to my blog! I'm Pizzahead, and we're gonna have fun here, haha!

This site is gonna be one of my first interactions with the world outside of my tower, but haha, i'll manage!

(psst, hey! i'm the person who runs this thing. this is also my first time doing anything like this, so sorry if it's bad.)

(anyways, i'm gonna speak in these parenthesis just because i want people to know the difference in tags about whether Pizzahead or i am saying a thing.)

(so here are some rules btw-)

1: I could be a bit slow with asks sometimes. Sorry, but i got a life, and i can't control that. Just dont get angry or demand asks be turned on or answered or smth

2: I'm a minor, and i have friends that dislike NSFW! At their worst, keep asks mildly suggestive please! Otherwise they will be deleted

3: Basic DNI stuff (racist, homophobic, transphobic, etc.)

4: Don't be mean in general, unless its for RP reasons

(and if you want to refer to me, you can just call me RandMod. Okay now some other info...)

I think that one blue square on my blog is usually called "asks" by others or somethin? Well, haha, either way, mine are...

Open! Go ahead, don't be shy, ha! say whatever!

Closed! Sorry, heh, ya gotta come back later!

Hrm... Think that's about enough for now, ha! Bye!

(And also, here's my explanation on some of the tags ill use. I'm using them all on this post mostly to check if they don't exist yet...)

("Just silly pizza thoughts" will be used whenever Pizzahead is just saying things)

("Just sad pizza thoughts" will be used for AAAAAANGST!!! which apparently happens a lot ig)

("the RandMod speaks!" will be used whenever i make a post that's just me talking to you directly, or if i'm in a post)

("Pizzahead's art gallery" will be used when art is reblogged on this blog, which will be rare unless its direct fanart for this blog)

(And of course i will use the basic tags of "Pizzahead" and "Pizza Tower" for each post)

(Oh, and you can do just about whatever with the stuff from this blog as long as u credit it, and it abides to the rules from earlier)

(Alright then, uh... bye. Hope you have some sort of fun with this...)

#(im trying my best okay?)#Just silly pizza thoughts #the RandMod speaks!#Pizzahead's art gallery #Just sad pizza thoughts #pizza tower #pizzahead

21 notes · View notes

renren-006 · 9 months

Note

right, your blog banner has inspired me to send in a request ✨ i’ve got an idea for a court gentry x reader fic based off of ‘you are in love’ by taylor swift. basically it’s like really cute moments between court and the reader throughout their relationship based on some of the lyrics to the song.

the start of the song. could perhaps be their first ever night together. “Coffee at midnight.” and “And your shoulders brush. No proof, one touch. But you felt enough” would maybe be their daily routines and such.

the second verse could be like i guess domestic moments between them and then the lyric about letting go of fears and ghosts could be court being more open and comfortable with the reader compared to the beginning of the relationship. there’s also a lyric in the bridge where it mentions keeping a pic of the subject in a office so i thought maybe that could apply for court keeping a polaroid of the reader (that claire took) when he goes on missions. if you could please make the fic really soft and fluffy that would be great

i’m sorry this is kinda long hahahaha but i just had to share the idea i had. keep up the great work! your fics are amazing :)

Loved | Sierra Six x Reader

warning: a litttleeee suggestive wording but other than that full love and fluff!

word count: 760

a/n: this is such a cute idea!! thank you for the request!! i really enjoyed writing this!! i’ll have to make another tag post for song story requests!! I love writing fluffy content but i also added a few...suggestive sentences because i coulden't help myself!!

(just like imagine it’s youuuu)

*Play "You are Loved" by Taylor Swift*

Small talk, he drives. Coffee at Midnight

When you both met it felt like a spark was ignited inside you.

“Hi” a voice said behind you. Turning back you noticed a handsome face above you. Court stood there, taking a chance at love.

“Hello” you responded, Court took that as a welcoming sign to have him sit next to you. You two smiled at each other

When Court continued talking to you that night you knew maybe there was a change at some happy ending. When he offered to take you to his place you jumped out of the bar stool and happily obliged. You took him up on the offer of a coffee at his place when you two settled in. Soon after that coffee was forgotten.

And your shoulders brush. No proof, one touch, but you felt enough.

The morning routine was simple, bathrooms were shared between the two of you. Shoulders brushing in the morning as the two of you moved around the bathroom fiddling and getting ready. There was no proof to the Court or anyone outside of this bathroom that they had ever met, touched or loved. You felt it, the connection, the spark. You wanted it ignited between the two of you. Court couldn't admit it to himself yet.

You keep his shirt, he keeps his word. And for once, you let go of your fears and your ghosts.One step not too much, said enough.

Of course you kept Court's shirt, it was the only thing that kept you grounded when he was gone. You moved in a while after you met and fell hard for one another. You never asked questions, or bothered him about his scars, he would tell you about this other life he had when he was ready.

Court told you the minute he walked in that door after a mission. He still had a fresh cut on his forehead and he felt torn. He felt like the double life he was living needed to be a single one.

“I…I work for the government, I do jobs for them. Hit jobs” he told you, moments after the door shut. He stumbled over his words, fear on his face. You were caught off guard eating in the kitchen when he stormed in the house.

“I guessed you did something dangerous..” you told him trailing off. “I'm not leaving. Just because you have a dangerous job doesn't mean I'm going anywhere.” Court didn't say another word other than picking you up out of your chair and settling down on the couch, you in his lap, and just hugged you. The two of you stayed like that for hours, just holding one another.

One night he wakes. Strange look on his face. Pauses then says “you're my best friend”. and you knew what it was he's in love

You were still up when Court rolled over to you. The book in your hand quickly forgotten by the look Court was giving you.

“Baby?” you asked, worried he was having a stroke. You put your book down and laid beside him, the dim light from the moon giving your room a glow. He held your face.

“You're my best friend,” he told you. As his hands stored your cheeks you cried. He loved you. It was clear in his words, his face, and his kisses he gave you.

And he keeps pictures of you in his office downtown

Claire insisted on taking a picture of you that day. You were wearing a light blue dress, making you look angelic. You knew Court was leaving soon, and you wanted to look nice before swinging him off to his mission. Clair took a photo of you looking longingly at Court, she kept that one for her one jernal.

The other one she gave to the Court. This one had you looking directly at the camera, full smile and a slight laugh to your face. He remembers that day like no other. How pretty you looked in the dress and how nice you looked at home without it.

Court kept that photo in his wallet, keeping it with him on missions so he would always have your face to look at to remind him he was fighting to come home to you. He loved you.

Cause you can hear it in the silence. You can feel it on the way home. You can see it with the lights out. You are in love, true love. You are in love.

#sierra six #sierra six x reader #the grey man #the grey man fan fiction #court gentry #sierra six x you #court gentry x reader #i am so in love with six its not even funny #i love ryan gosling

42 notes · View notes

throwaway-yandere · 1 year

Text

!!!Yandere Genshin/Reader 2.5k Follows Mini-Event: Secret Penpals (Masterlist)!!!

cw: contains yandere themes, including stalking, possessive behavior, etc. do not engage if you’re sensitive to the topics mentioned. prioritize your mental health first, you matter.

Time remaining: █ days, █ hours, █ minutes (closed!!! please wait until Thoma delivers all the letters <3)

✧ Inazuma is currently holding another Irodori Festival and the Yashiro Commission and Yae Publishing House has a secret pen pal service going on... Perhaps you should write a letter and hand it over to Ms. Hina! Who knows, maybe you'll find another Paimon!

Possible Rewards: A new friend : )

“How is the list, Gorou?”

“Well, I got the names of some of the penpals. We got Always-So-Busy Sakabashira, Widower Momiji, A Headless Knight, Calx, and a couple more weird and whimsical names… There’s like… around 10 or something.”

“Ah, I see, Sakabashira is █████ isn’t it– wait, even Calx is joining? Isn’t he a Mondstadter?”

“Aren’t you one too? Now that you mention it, there’s a couple of foreigners joining this event– we even got someone from Snezhnaya.”

“Haha, where do you think Blue Eyes White Dragon could be from? Betting on Liyue.”

“Hmm… I have a hunch that they’re from Fontaine...”

“But what if they’re yokai, though?”

...

“... Do yokais play TCG?”

"... I know Itto does…"

[match-up event guidelines under the cut]

—-------

SALUTATIONS! Mx. Ansy here– thank you so much for the 2k follows! I don’t celebrate White Days so this will be the reason why this event exists. No clue why that happened, but for the celebration’s sake, here’s a mini event as my thanks!!! (Even though it’s long overdue since I’m at 2.5k hahahaha…)

Thank you to everyone that followed, liked, left comments (omg), reblogged, etc. ILYSM!!!! <3 (Don’t worry, I’m still working on the idol au ehe. I need you all to know about music composer!Tighnari’s mental fatigue.)

Here are the event guidelines and an example of how this works provided by “Ms. Hina” and “Fixer”!

Event Guidelines ✥:

NO NSFW MESSAGES. (Please remember someone is writing behind all this lmao. I’m asexual so my humblest apologies.)

Feel free to go nuts with your pen pal's name! No need to use the word “anon”. As long as you kept your identity a secret, you’re safe! There’s no real rule, just make sure it’s not longer than 6 words.

Why is six words the maximum? Well… My best friend, Fried Tofu With All The Frills, “suggested” that it’s better that way…

Remember who runs this event behind the screen. Expect stalkers, monsters, etc. to respond to your letter.

You don't know who your pen pal is. Don't name who the receiver of your letter is. This is luck-based, and if I'm feeling like a gremlin I might just send your letter to Reckless Pallad if you do this lol.

As the event name suggests: some might get villain NPCs & non-yandere character/s. Welcome back to another round of RNG if you aren’t already fricking tired from artifact grinding.

Only one penpal per person. No repeats. Every time I do an event, the yanderes are loyal.

Are you reading the guidelines? Good. Take note of this specific instruction or else I won’t add your letter to the event registration: greet your pen pal with a “Happy Irodori Festival!” or anything similar. That’s how I’ll know you’ve read everything.

Your letter could be around 200 words max but don’t feel forced to hit that threshold haha. Talk about whatever you want then send it in this blog’s ask box! I’ll pass it on to Ms. Hina or Fixer ♡

The response you’ll receive varies, but expect a minimum word count of at least 100 (some characters just won't write long). Hard to fit things with a single letter. Maybe your pen pal would be desperate enough to write 2 pages on their first reply. But don’t count on it. I’m trying my best to give out short replies to this event. The last idol event had 2k-6k word counts (when my plan was 1.8k max). This is me trying my best to exercise self-control lolololol.

Every letter is made on Canva. Huge shoutout to that website for carrying my SHS career and this event because I have S-tier garbage handwriting.

Also, a huge shoutout to @/watatsumiis! General inspired me to do this event, so please check his works if you want to read fluffy fics that’ll make you giggle! He provides such amazing brain rots, I swear. Unlike this gremlin right here, he’s wonderful and wholesome both as a writer and a person.

Well then, time for an example! Please copy Ms. Hina’s lead when you write your letter <3

Tutorial/Example ✥:

“Dear Secret Penpal,

Happy Irodori festival! My name is Miss Hina, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I know that festivals tend to make everyone exhausted, so whoever this letter is addressed to, I hope you’re taking care of yourself. Remember to eat and drink water regularly! Even when to be honest, I already know who you are. I’m not great at talking about myself, but if anything is troubling you, don’t keep it all muzzled up inside.

- Ms. Hina”

The “penpal”’s reply (example only!!!):

Hmm, wonder who that could be? /s

Have fun!!! Happy Irodori Festival!!! (even though it’s windblume rn. I just can’t think of a book-based genshin event so lol here’s an advanced irodori patch for everyone.)

List of penpals/Masterlist:

SOME ARE CURRENTLY A SECRET

Don't get too cocky, though. Some of them aren't who you think they are ehe

"Calx" - Luthien

"Deshret" - Lisa

"Blue Eyes White Dragon" - ????

"Always-So-Busy Sakabashira" - Second Hand Of Time

"A Headless Knight" - Choco Found In Puppy's Tummy

"Widower Momiji" - Starlight

"Big Ears" - Honey On A Stick

"Fixer" - Tofu

"Fratello" - ????

No name - Vermiculis Creatio

No name - ????

#ansy-writes #yandere genshin impact #just a small event!#yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin #thank you for 2.5k ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡#not tagging who the characters are here yet.#yandere albedo #yandere alhaitham

108 notes · View notes

housedeaubemarle · 15 days

Text

A House Call

(written with @escherstrange-ffxiv, without whom none of this would have existed in the first place)

Followed by 'A House Call: Epilogue du Oudine'.

~*~

"Sydney should be here," Joshua grumbles, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeve.

"Probably for the best." Isillud thinks it wiser not to tell his younger brother of their brother's reply.

An hour ago:

Sydney's laugh was of a man who had suffered at the hands of House Aubemarle. It was long, sharp, and bitter. "HAHAHAHA good fucking luck," he said before the linkpearl fell silent.

Isillud's eyes narrowed at the fireplace, as if telepathically setting his brother on fire all the way at Radz-at-han. "Bitch."

"He could have given us some tips. I've never met the viscountess."

"Neither have I, Joshua." Isillud smooths his hair back, waiting for the door to open.

~*~

Marceaux, butler to House Aubemarle perhaps since the time of the Ancients, opens the door to two lanky Elezen gentlemen.

The eye first takes in an absurdly beautiful face on the right, accompanied by well-sculpted - youthful - features on the left. Another second of scanning addresses the similar bone structures, Duskwight skin, points of ears, and builds of the pair before him. Yet a third instant notes the ruffles of cravats and shirts, unobtrusive cufflinks and neatly pointed shoes, while filing away for future reference, certain wrinkles in cloth that either point to a household without laundry maids or worse: untrained servants.

“Our relatives, the Losstarots, are due tomorrow morning, Marceaux. We will not be home to anyone else till their visit is complete.”

“Very good, milady.”

He opens his mouth, just as the trained eye submits a fourth report: the pairs of eyes looking back at him - one impassive, one defiant - are shockingly green.

“Good morning, gentlemen. Whom may I say is calling?”

Joshua straightens his back, clearing his throat and whipping out a card in between his fingers. “Lord Joshua Losstarot and my brother, Isillud. We are here to meet with Viscount Aubemarle."

The card is a crisp white card printed only with his name and a coat of arms. He looks as dignified and lordly as a young man due to come of age in 3 days (figuratively) can be. Isillud simply nods and smiles at the butler.

Marceaux wordlessly and gingerly receives the tiny rectangle. He peers at it, absorbing that this is, in fact, the Lord Joshua Losstarot. Still holding the card respectfully in his gloved hands, he bows and moves aside to wave them through.

“Welcome, milords. If you would be so kind as to follow me, I will direct you to the Chantilly Room.”

He awaits acknowledgement of this, and at the briefest nod from Lord Joshua, neatly spins on his heel and walks down the hall at a moderate pace. He does not turn to see their reaction to the interior, though if one were to conduct an interview later, Marceaux would hardly dare suggest anything but satisfaction with the tasteful wallpaper of ivory striped with off-white, matching an elegant marble floor in swirling shades.

The door of the Chantilly Room opens to, indeed, cream-coloured curtains, off-white painted walls and carpets of a darker grey-blue. Within, on a low table opposite a pale blue sofa, sits a full tea set. Along the walls are ornaments of various styles and sizes on sturdy shelves, while two painted lacquer screens stand at a corner. A gilded wall mirror completes the furnishing.

“Please make yourself at home, milords.”

Marceaux waits for a count of five, trusting their lordships to seat themselves comfortably, before he closes the door with a quiet thud. From the corner of his eye, he sees the barest whisper of a skirt and hears a stifled giggle.

He represses a sigh - and the thought that Lord Joshua’s brother’s reputation precedes itself - before quickly heading upstairs.

~*~

Being away from Ishgard for five summers has dulled their aesthetics towards interior decoration. Joshua shifts his weight, rocking back and forth on his heels. "How long do we have to wait, Izzy?"

Isillud glances at the decor, taking in the details as he walks past the ornaments, mentally placing them in their possible places of origin. "You don't ask, Joshua. You just sit and look around. Gives you an idea of what to talk about." He peers at some. "Hingan teacup. Gyr Abanian charm. If they don't travel, their friends do."

"How do you know they didn't buy it?"

"You don't buy a single teacup, Joshua."

Joshua points to a row under the gilded mirror. "What about that miniature fan and those dancing figurines then? Took their friends long enough to realise what they liked?"

Isillud glances at the mirror, sighs, then sinks into the couch.

The wait isn’t as agonisingly long as Joshua anticipates. Barely two minutes after Isillud sits, the door opens again.

“Good morning, my lords.”

The woman offering her greetings is tall and fair, dressed in a blouse of soothing dusty blue with gauzy bishop sleeves, and black trousers. Waves of shiny, dark brown hair have been woven into neat braids, then pinned into a singular tidy bun; bangs frame either side of her face. Clear grey eyes crinkle above a pointed nose; lips coloured an inoffensive shade of cameo pink form a warm smile.

She stretches out a hand towards Joshua first, as is correct etiquette.

“I am Oudine de Aubemarle. I suppose we could be called cousins of sorts.”

Joshua straightens his jacket before taking Oudine's hand and barely touching his lips with it. "Joshua Lo-" he is interrupted by Isillud's cough. "-Joshua de Losstarot, a pleasure to meet you Viscount."

He steps aside for his brother. Compared to his, Isillud seems smoother, like he trained his entire youth for this moment.

"Milady." Isillud's baritone voice is like silk brushing across her hand. "Will your mother not be joining us?"

Oudine blinks. It hasn’t been that long since she’d received hand kisses as greetings, surely. Is she so accustomed to shaking hands on business that gallantry has become a surprise?

Focus, Oudine.

She keeps smiling. “She will, in just a moment. Her toilette requires a little more attention, seeing as the sons of her longtime connections are here.” Oudine gestures to the sofa. “Please, do sit. The staff will bring some light repast by and by, so we will have to contend with tea first. I hope red tea is to your taste.”

As her guests sit, and she picks up the teapot to pour, she continues. “If you don’t mind me saying so this quickly in your visit, hearing of your reinstatement was personally gratifying. I’m glad the Holy See is making what amends it can, though perhaps,” she looks up at them, noting the arresting green gazes of both brothers. “Such hurts will take a longer time to heal.”

"I shan't lie, it's equal parts relief and resentment," Joshua replies. "We can't even give a proper funeral for our parents and grandfather, but at least we have our home back." He shoots his brother a pointed look. "Not entirely, but I'll take what I can get."

Idillud picks up his teacup and inhales once before sipping. Leaning back against the sofa signals to Joshua he has no intention of carrying a conversation - he's only there to supervise the lord-in-training, nothing else - and so Joshua continues. "I do confess my surprise that you are the current viscount, milady." Joshua's voice is markedly younger, and with youth carries a tone of eagerness instead of nosiness. "I thought it would be your brother."

This is not a question Oudine has heard for a few years now. She takes a quick glance at Isillud, apparently absorbed in his tea. Is this the usual pattern? The older brother hanging back, the younger taking the lead? Then again, knowing what they do of Sydney, perhaps House Losstarot must needs rely on its youth. And youth, Oudine knows, requires training.

“I’m sorry to hear of your parents and grandfather. It is… difficult, when one does not have the chance to say the goodbyes one desires.”

She gestures invitingly to the sugar bowl, lifting its lid.

“As for Remont, let us just say it has long been an unspoken understanding in our family that birth is not necessarily the best judge of headship. My father’s passing was perhaps the culmination of that understanding.”

She smiles at the young man in front of her. For a moment, she remembers her younger brother as he had been ten years ago, though perhaps Joshua has more palpable vitality.

“I think, in that, we have something in common, Lord Joshua.”

“And what would that be, my love? Is the head of Losstarot too an insouciant younger brother?”

Oudine nearly drops the lid. She whips around to see the Dowager Viscountess herself standing in the doorway, attended by Marceaux. She is shorter than everyone present, but commands a presence that could even match the likes of Count Charlemend de Durendaire. Smooth, very pale blonde hair that borders on white is neatly put up. A wan but clearly inquisitive smile sits on her slightly wrinkled, but still clear, face, matched by a raised eyebrow. Two hands fold atop her cane, topped by a handle in the shape of a finely carved Hornbill head.

“Mother!”

The brothers stand and bow respectfully to the Dowager. “Viscountess," they greet, though only Joshua continues. "It is good to see you well." He keeps up the smile, waiting for the Dowager's response, while Isillud tugs his gloves up, checking that he is still wearing them.

The Dowager reaches out, not towards her visitors as Oudine had, but for her daughter. Marceaux has already melted away, shutting the door.

“Well as can be, praise unto the Fury,” she says with a sigh as Oudine dutifully takes her hand and escorts her eight steps forward to a sturdy chair near the sofa. “Remember not to get old, young men - it brings too many inconveniences.”

She sits, waving at them to do the same. Then silence falls, awkward and spiky, as the Dowager seems to read the Losstarots’ very souls.

“Hrrmph,” she says at last. “Whatever he believed, at least Cletienne's eyes outlived him. And you,” she nods at Isillud, “I see la incomparable again in your face, so clearly you have your mother to thank for your looks. Though your reputation is entirely your own.”

There is a slightly louder clink of porcelain, as Oudine turns from where she’s pouring a fourth cup of tea to give her mother an inscrutable look. The Dowager, sitting upright in her chair, returns an impassive glance, then turns back again to her guests.

“Well, Lord Joshua? You’ve not answered my question. Or perhaps I should seek answers from another authority on the subject, eh Lord Isillud?”

Isillud's cup rests on the saucer with another audible clink. He opens his mouth but nothing comes out from it; Joshua starts instead.

"Isillud is well aware that his reputation would not bode well for the house; hence why it was agreed upon that I should bear the title." The younger man flashes his brightest smile, "We are much alike in that we have overstepped our more-deserving siblings to wear our mantles, Viscount." His tone dances lightly over the sunbeams spilling through the windows.

Isillud doesn't look at the pair, merely smiles as the lanky man leans into the sofa, crossing his hands on his lap. "Hmph," he softly laughs, snow white eyelashes fluttering shut.

Joshua's shoulders relax, sloping just enough to be noticeable. "You must be curious about what we've been up to over the last five summers, we would be glad to indulge your questions."

The Dowager shows no sign of relenting. “Ah, so the answer is no. Insouciance isn’t quite the description. Dear heart,” she says, looking at Oudine who has continued to drop two lumps of sugar into the delicate cup she holds. “Your brother’s carelessness evidently is an idiosyncrasy of his own. You are to be sympathised with, it seems.”

Oudine mumbles a form of non-committal reply, simultaneously giving her mother tea, and delicately removing the walking stick for the old lady’s convenience.

Clearly, this was no longer the Viscount’s game. Though, to be fair, it hadn’t been from the moment she’d handed her mother the Losstarots’ formal letter of introduction a few weeks ago. Oudine glances again at Isillud, looking for some kind of solidarity between older siblings.

There is none to be found. The older brother appears to be fully meditating on the merits of some otherworldly matter. It is a shame, thinks Oudine, she can’t bring herself to do the same since her mother has started speaking to Lord Joshua again.

“Is there possibly anything more dramatic than the antics of the Warrior of Light and the Scions?” asks the Dowager, carefully stirring her cup. “Did you too ride a dragon overhead into Ishgard, guns a-blazing so to speak? Do tell us from the beginning; we are all attention, Lord Joshua.”

Joshua's laugh isn't of a carefree boy - courtesy and restraint swaddle it. "If there are I'm afraid I wasn't privy to it. My story is simpler than that: Taken under the wing of a trader, I simply learned the ropes of her business. Aside from the usual cargo she offered safe passages to refugees seeking to flee the Garlean occupation, when she abandoned it after Ala Mhigo and Doma's liberation I simply abided by her decision. There are other trade avenues to pursue after all." Joshua is less careful with his tea, even a tiny slurp echoes in the room. "Crude, but it pays the bills for now."

Isillud leans forward, nudging his cup towards Oudine. "May I have more tea, milady?" When she refills his cup, slender gloved fingers brush against hers when he lifts his cup.

"Joshua needs to learn. He will be fine. Breathe easy, cousin." Emerald irises rise to her eyes, almost glowing with a divinity that vouches for him.

His cousin wonders when he had the capacity to notice her unspoken pleas for help. She decides to question it later. The intense gaze and silken touch on the hand are distractions enough (and suddenly, Oudine reaches a deeper understanding with her brother).

“If it’s learning you both sought here, then you won’t leave disappointed,” she murmurs in reply, though as she returns to stand behind her mother’s chair, her posture is slightly more at ease.

The Dowager on the other hand, sips calmly as Joshua recites the undoubtedly summarised adventures of five years.

“My, my. Refugees from the Garlean occupation, Ala Mhigo and Doma. Your youth belies your profound experiences, young man. And the delicacy you’ve offered in your storytelling is appreciated but unnecessary.” Her dark brown eyes go straight through Joshua. “Pray tell what your trade entails currently. Aubemarle claims acquaintance with any number of lesser houses that deal in commerce, though we ourselves do not have such businesses.”

Behind her, her daughter quietly shifts her weight; the ease dissolves from Oudine’s spine.

Joshua's smile tightens, eyes set straight at the Dowager. He clears his throat.

"A variety of merchandise from the east. Thavnair, Garlemald, Dalmasca even. The trade routes are perilous and there is no shortage of demand from these nations." Sip. "I simply bring people what they want for a fee, I should be glad to give you our current catalogue should you wish." The legal catalogue is what goes unsaid in his explanation.

The Dowager tilts her head slightly. “‘Bringing people what they want for a fee’. What a simple explanation it is. Have you considered a different career, Lord Joshua? Perhaps a writer for one of our illustrious newspapers? Some of their pieces are so concise, they do the exact opposite of their express purpose: to inform the public. You would do perfectly, I shouldn’t wonder.”

A knock on the door interrupts the plummeting social temperature of the room. Marceaux silently glides in, bearing a tray full of small plates. Upon them are refreshments suited for a mid-morning interlude with distinguished guests: pastries that do not flake, but can be savoured in two bites, eclairs that aren’t overfilled so as not to embarrass enthusiastic eaters, finger sandwiches that make for dignified chewing.

(Thank the Fury for small mercies, thinks Oudine.)

The butler sets the silver tray down, right beside the teapot. The Dowager’s nod sends him gliding back out of the room.

“Do help yourselves, my lords,” says the Dowager smoothly.

Joshua laughs but the heat within tightens around his gut. He's running out of options to please her, and a choice reply remains at the tip of his tongue only because Isillud would likely kick him off the sofa if he said it. The introduction of desserts has done nothing for him, for he is mentally flipping through a notebook about what to do during social situations like this. Unfortunately, the book is still fresh and blank.

He turns to his brother only for him to notice two things: Firstly, Isillud has seen Marceaux. Secondly, the glint in Isillud's eye.

No, oh no you don't-

Isillud doesn't take his eyes away from the door long after the butler has left. He plucks an eclair from the plate and without so much as looking at what he's doing, places it at his lips and sucks the cream from the hole with no pretense what's on his mind.

Joshua's world crumples in on itself. If Isillud does not hide what's on his mind, neither does Joshua with a mortified expression on his face. He does the first thing he can think of to snap his brother out of his reverie: he elbows him really hard in the ribs. It works - Isillud jolts back to the room, blinking innocently at Joshua.

"What?"

Oudine de Aubemarle, with the seasoned practice of someone who has been trained to ignore that which couldn’t possibly have occurred in the drawing room of a highborn Ishgardian house, immediately speaks in her modulated, pleasant tone.

“It is good, isn’t it? Though he is our own cook, I must personally recommend Mr Ofanleitasyn’s creations. Lord Joshua, perhaps you might like to try a sandwich.”

She walks forward swiftly, picking up one of each kind to place on a small plate, then turns back around to the Dowager.

“I myself requested Cook to prepare these, Mother. They’re your particular favourites after all.”

The Dowager’s lips had already parted, perhaps to deliver a homily against the obvious dereliction of the world outside Ishgard and its regrettable influence on wayward young men. Something in the look she receives - hidden from view of the Losstarots - makes her put her lips back together and nod.

“Thank you, my pet. Such thoughtfulness,” she says, and even gently pats the Viscount on the cheek.

Oudine turns back, places two small sandwiches on a plate and offers it to Joshua. The smile that accompanies it, she hopes, would read as an apology and encouragement.

He must and will learn, yes, but the older sister in her cannot help herself.

Joshua whips over to the plate of sandwiches. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before mustering weakly, "Y...yes, thank you." He shoves a sandwich into his mouth, breathing heavily through his nose. If he cannot say anything he might as well have something in his mouth for it.

A second of watching his brother's reaction later, Isillud shrugs and takes a dainty bite from his eclair. "A Roegadyn, then? How long has he been in service?"

“Oh, ever since I can remember, quite frankly,” says the Viscount. She looks to her mother, who hands the younger noble her still-full cup of tea. Oudine silently puts it back on the low table, and proceeds to pour a fresh, hot cup.

“Mr Ofanleitasyn has been with us these last 30 years or so. One of my late husband’s many flashes of brilliance,” says the Dowager, the tone just ever so slightly more conciliatory. “He may be a Roegadyn, but his abilities produce thoroughly Ishgardian fare.”

The dark brown eyes of the lady gleam as she continues with, “If memory serves, your mother quite enjoyed a variant of Dzemael Gratin he made once in the past. I believe she was carrying your eldest brother at the time, and so could not attend one of our dinners. Seeing as it was her first pregnancy, she could not help but be cautious. We had a dish delivered over to her, and she returned a most gracious note of thanks.” She pauses a moment. “La Incomparable had excellent taste.”

The Dowager receives the new cup of tea from her daughter with an arched eyebrow. There. Happy? It seems to say.

Yes, returns the answering smile of Oudine.

Chewing slowly, Joshua blinks at the story. "Huh, I didn't know that. Did you know that, Izzy?"

Isillud doesn't answer; he narrows his eyes at the Dowager, lips thinned into a single line. Her words have stirred him though he clenches his fists and says nothing.

It felt like a slap, that this woman of distant relation would have a vivid story to tell of their mother. A reminder of their place: If only she knew what has become of her children. One a swindler, the other a harlot. And you dare show your face around Ishgard? For shame.

Isillud finishes his eclair and wipes his fingers on a handkerchief. "Come, Joshua. We have tarried enough."

"Huh? But we just started-" The look on his brother's face shuts him up. "Thank you for your hospitality. It was a pleasure meeting you both, we shall call upon your house in the near future."

He gives a quick bow and jogs after Isillud, who doesn't even bother with niceties as he heads for the door.

The Dowager silently watches the rapid departure of both young men with unexpected calmness, even having the presence of mind to set her teacup down on the table.

Beside her, Oudine is less able to control herself. “What-”

“Oudine.”

She looks at the Dowager, surprise - and since they’re alone, some hurt - in her face. “Mamma?”

The old lady reaches out, and instinctively, her daughter clasps her hand.

“I know I promised never to interfere in your dealings as Viscount. But I ask you to trust me when I tell you: do not run out to seek an explanation from them, at least for the present. Will you, dearest?”

Oudine purses her lips. Part of her is itching to do exactly that - to demand an answer, if not resolution, for this abrupt end to a visit she had had every intention of helping along. People she trusted had warned her, gently, about the possibility of these being impostors, of interlopers stealing the noble name of Losstarot, and the resulting connection to the Aubemarles. They had asked her to be extra cautious, knowing that the current Viscount de Aubemarle was inclined to see the better side of others, sometimes wishing to be right, rather than knowing she was right. She had wanted, dearly, to prove them wrong, to be able to say - firmly - that the new head of Losstarot is genuine, and that their claims are true. She still does.

The other part - the one which has seen her mother work what could only be magic on the dizzying social circles of Ishgard’s lesser houses, which has witnessed the Dowager Viscountess call on, and call out, rival houses no less powerful or influential than they, without batting an eyelash - makes her grip her mother’s hand tighter.

Finally, she asks, almost demands. “Did you tell that story of their mother on purpose? Did you aim at Lord Isillud?” Neither woman hears the front door of the house slam shut. The rooms are too well-built.

“If I aim at anything, which I will pretend to understand for the moment, logic dictates I ought to aim at the head sitting right before me,” says the Dowager. “No, dearest. My intention had been to give those boys a memory they could not have had; a keepsake now that they must step into their elders’ shoes.”

She looks back at the yawning doorway of the Chantilly Room.

“I forget that the young - especially young, “resentful” prodigals - may not look as kindly on memories as those of my age.”

After a moment, the old lady frowns. “House de Aubemarle can only claim to be far relations. There are others who are closer cousins, in higher places, and with even more accounts of the Losstarots as they once were. Lord Isillud will need stronger armour. And more flesh on his bones, if he intends to remain in this city.”

Oudine cannot help wanting a complete diagnosis. “And Lord Joshua needs…?”

Her mother snorts. “Time. And more polish in his address.”

Oudine shakes her head, before realising what the Dowager had said. She takes in a deep breath, releases it. “You were listening outside the door when I first entered the room, weren’t you?”

The Dowager makes no answer, merely returning the grip on her daughter’s hand. The Viscount can only sigh, and finally sits down for the first time since she’d welcomed the Losstarots to their home.

Still clinging to her mother’s hand, she says consideringly, “You believe them to be real then. They are the long-lost Losstarot sons, now returned.”

The Dowager looks surprised. “Of course, dear heart. No charlatan worth their salt would have stormed out so violently.”

A wave of tired regret washes over Oudine and she closes her eyes. “Then we have given offence to our own. And it involves their mother.” She opens them again to stare at the ceiling. “How on earth can we make amends?”

“My sweet girl, ever forgiving. Thus is the discourtesy already forgotten.”

Oudine lets herself frown, obviously and deeply frustrated, at her mother. It’s been a very long morning, no matter that the fiasco had really only lasted for all of fifteen minutes or less.

The Dowager smiles. “You are Viscount de Aubemarle. You will think of something. Besides,” she nods at her daughter. “You have their calling card, do you not?”

Oudine slips her free hand (it’s also annoying how she doesn’t even want to let go of her mother, despite everything) into a trouser pocket. She pulls out the innocuous white card Marceaux had given her, and stares at it.

“...hmm.”

As the Viscount thinks and plans, the Dowager leans forward towards the table. She picks up an eclair, snorts at a thought that has just occurred to her, and takes a delicate bite.

~*~

It is three days later, when there is a knock on the door of the Losstarots’ residence.

Ser Drouhont, Temple Knight-turned-steward, all of 7 fulms (possibly more) and pitch black skin opens the door. "Good morning. Whom shall I say is calling?" The wind whips his long hair about, thankfully long and heavy enough that it doesn't obscure his face.

Before this very impressive figure stand two Elezens, both in the livery of House Aubemarle. The darker skinned one wearing a small pair of gold-rimmed glasses on his face bows respectfully. The grace of his movement is unhampered by the neatly wrapped parcel in his arms. Beside him, a very lovely black-haired maid with dark eyes dips in a polite curtsey, a clearly laden basket despite its cloth covering, in hand.

“No one, sir. We are only here to present my lady Viscount Aubemarle’s compliments, and seek your goodness to deliver them to your master,” says the bespectacled footman in an even tone.

"My masters are unfortunately currently indisposed, but I would be glad to hand it over to them."

The footman bows again. “Thank you, we are most obliged.” He offers the brown paper parcel, secured by twine, to the steward first, before taking the basket from his colleague to hand it over as well. “Good morning to you,” he says with a last bow. The maid curtsies and follows the footman’s lead to go.

They’ve only gone a few steps when, right before Ser Drouhont closes the door, the maid turns back to call out with a brilliant smile: “Don’t ignore the box at least! It’d be a terrible waste!”

Drouhont hooks the basket on the crook of his arm, watching the servants leave with a confused look on his face. Within the house, Joshua leans over the banister halfway down the stairs. "Who was it?"

"Compliments from House Aubemarle with a reminder to not ignore the box." He looks at the twine-wrapped parcel with the same impassive face and flat tone. "T'would be a waste to do so."

That makes the younger elezen curious enough to take the parcel off Drouhont's hands and set it on the dining table. Drouhont puts the basket nearby, turning the cloth over to reveal its contents.

"Let's see what we have here…" Joshua muses, unfolding a blade from a pocket and starts cutting the twine.

"Oh-"

Joshua stops. "What?"

"Twine can be reused…I could use it to wrap my paintings…"

Joshua simply stares at his steward. He should be used to the man's airy comments by now but he was unpredictable when he wanted to. He shakes his head and continues demolishing the wrapper to get at the contents within.

Brown paper crinkles and rustles, falling away to reveal a perfectly square but good-sized, black, lacquered box. On its lid, a spray of flowers blooming from a shapely bough, made of inlaid mother-of-pearl, grows from the bottom corner. Closer inspection easily reveals that the box is made up of three layers and the mild sweet fragrance of baked goods begins to waft upwards. A thick looking packet sits against the box, along with a thinner, lighter envelope. On both, small wax seals, no doubt from a signet ring, bear the crest of House Aubemarle.

In the basket’s case, its contents are less enigmatic. Fresh fruit of various kinds sit within: Coerthan and mirror apples, La Noscean oranges, Lowland grapes, Pixie plums, even a few lemonettes. There is also a singular pineapple, most of its spiky crown carefully cut off for convenience. In the midst of such vibrant colours, the stark white of a small card stands out.

Not even Joshua can resist the allure of freshly baked goods. "She wasn't kidding about her cook," he says as he picks up the packet and envelope, using the blade to pry the seal open.

Meanwhile Drouhont removes the fruit from the basket and sorts it into an artful arrangement, mumbling to himself, "A fine still-life subject for a painting…Master Joshua, there is a card inside here too." He passes the card firmly held between his fingers to his lord, who now has three things to read.

The thin envelope contains a single-sided letter with the crest of House Aubemarle emblazoned in the top centre of the page. In other words, the official letterhead of the Viscount. The handwriting beneath is neat and evenly spaced, flowing in black ink.

To Lord Joshua de Losstarot, head of House Losstarot, & Lord Isillud de Losstarot,

I give greeting to my cousins both, and present our apologies for this late letter.

To come straight to the point, we ask forgiveness for treading upon sacred ground without care. While it is not lost upon us how hollow that may ring after what has transpired, please believe that it is meant sincerely.

What we should have conveyed that day, but did not, is simply this: words do not suffice for how your house has suffered great losses, in many respects. House de Aubemarle has no power to bring back what was, but we will assist - if you are willing, and should need it - in building what will be. The accompaniments to this letter are more concrete tokens of our friendship.

I hope we shall meet again in future, in more fortuitous circumstances. Belatedly, and truly, we welcome our cousins Losstarot back to Ishgard.

Yours sincerely,

Oudine de Aubemarle, Viscount Aubemarle.

Out of the thicker packet comes a small collection of papers and stiffer cards of varying sizes.

One of the cards is an elegantly decorated invitation. The space for recipients has been filled in by hand: Lord Joshua de Losstarot and Lord Isillud de Losstarot are requested for the pleasure of their company at a formal ball at the mansion of House Maintigny in a month’s time. Lady Oisinne de Maintigny is to be addressed should they accept or decline the invitation.

Yet another invitation, on a marginally smaller card but no less elegant, also requests the pleasure of the lords Losstarot’s company, this time at a musical concert, intended to showcase the talents of the newest protege of the Dowager Viscountess Philomene de Aubemarle. It is to be held at the Saint Llafymae Rooms in a fortnight, with acceptances or declines to be addressed to her ladyship at the Aubemarle manor.

Much smaller in size are four narrow tickets. Identically printed on them are admittances to the latest theatrical sensation of Ishgard, Cant and Candour. The tickets read that they are specifically for box seats on any night while the play is performed.

A folded note comes next, unsealed, so it can be opened to read, in the same ink and handwriting as in the longer letter: ‘The Viscount Aubemarle presents her compliments to the manager of the Lightfeather Proving Grounds, and with great pleasure, wishes to make known to your goodself my lords Losstarot, newly returned to Ishgard. Kindly make them welcome at the usual box whensoever they desire.’

Yet another sheet of paper similar in thickness to the note contains the simple name and address of Etoilier at the very top. Underneath the letterhead is a message from its proprietress who is delighted to know that their chance meetings in the past could be continued in a more formal fashion. Etoile Wintour reassures her lordships that new suits will be ready in good time before the Maintigny ball, and invites them both for fittings in three weeks. Though there is not much fear there since she already has their precise measurements. She presents her compliments and looks forward to their appointments.

And lastly, the smallest of the ‘accompaniments’ is a white business card. Upon it is printed ‘Marlstone Chocobos’ with an address in Ishgard below it, and another address in Tailfeather on a third line. Flexing it under the light reveals an embossed off-white crest in the upper right corner, that of House de Aubemarle. When turned over, there is a third handwritten message, in the same neat handwriting and the same black ink:

For any reason, if you are ever in need of a fast bird, bring this to the Marlstone office here. If in Dravania, seek out Remont. You will be given one of our finest, no questions asked, no charge. - O.A.

Once the detailed contents of the packet are perused, the last small card from the fruit basket is almost comical in its simplicity. The writing is in brown ink, and a cursive script far different from all the handwriting earlier. The message is brief:

You’ve only just begun. Eat, then fight.

Joshua shuffles through the cards growing increasingly perplexed. "Oh gods, there are so many events; do these people not do anything except socialize?!"

"That is indeed what they do, Master Joshua," Drouhont answers, carefully stacking the apples into a 3D pyramid. "Networking is very important in Ishgardian high society if you wish to remain relevant. Even a soldier of middling rank is expected to be present at the Forgotten Knight once a week at least."

"Drouhont, I can't attend all these on my own." He fans out the theatre tickets. "There are four tickets here and I don't appreciate music as much as…" His eyes follow the stairs, "Him."

"It matters not which Losstarot attends…only that one does." Drouhont frames his arrangement with his fingers, moving a fruit an ilm to the right to adjust.

"In case you have forgotten," Joshua's voice rises. "The other Losstarot is currently drowning in self-pity with only a blanket to maintain his modesty."

"You seem certain he'll always be crushed by the weight of the expectations he's failed, milord."

The younger elezen sighs, turning his attention to the box. He opens each tray to find out what's inside.

The first layer is a jigsaw puzzle of pastries: danishes, butter croissants, apple tarts, jam tarts, even a fig pastry or two to complete the picture. All have been made specially to fit the size of the box, and to be eaten in a single bite.

The second layer opens up to heavier stuff: currant scones give off a delightful scent of butter and sugar; slices of mille-feuille are artfully dusted with fine sugar and cocoa powder; a row of simple pain au chocolat sits with gleaming golden-brown skins.

The third and last layer is filled with nothing but eclairs, covered in chocolate icing.

Joshua twitches visibly at the tray of eclairs; he considers pushing it aside and bringing up only the first layers but changes his mind and slots the small card from the fruit basket among the eclairs before closing it up and lugging it upstairs. "Drouhont, bring the fruits up- on second thought, do as you like with those."

He kicks the door open; the crow roosting at Isillud's head caws in surprise and hops up to the headboard. Etienne turns and raises his eyebrow just slightly. Joshua Losstarot puts the box loudly on the side table and roughly yanks his brother's shoulder over to face him.

"Wake up, Izzy. You have a society to impress."

Isillud stares blankly through dull green eyes. Joshua removes the last tray and puts it in front of him. "See this? The dowager acknowledges you. Mother would've been proud." The crow tilts its head at the baked delicacies, plucking an eclair and gliding over to Etienne's work desk to pass to him.

Joshua grips his brother's chin between his fingers; the Fury lives in his voice, in the determination writ across his face. "You want expectations to live up to? Live up to the lord of House Losstarot's. Live up to mine."

╔═════ஓ๑♥๑ஓ═════╗

end

╚═════ஓ๑♥๑ஓ═════╝

#ffxiv oc #isillud losstarot #joshua treegarden #oudine de aubemarle #philomene de aubemarle #ffxiv RP #ffxiv oc lore #poor dear Oudine #she tries very hard

8 notes · View notes