#i need everyone emotionally raw over this before the ch7 update tonight

[llondonfog]

Might I perhaps offer the idea of General Lilia learning the intimacies of food through a baby Silver? No longer is food a survival borne necessity-- No longer is it scavenged scraps, nor bottom barrel camp gruel. No longer is it meat stolen and seared by the ashes of a pillaged village, nor an unassuming toad, nor something cold, nor scheduled, and dull.

It cannot be.

The human wails and it is the screech of metal on metal. It does not often cry. Your error is extreme and grievous.

This vexes you.

The baby, of course.

Quickly now-- shut it up.

It is not old enough to consume solid foods. It has yet to bear fangs, or menace, and the flesh of its tongue is flaccid. This disgusts you. The human is not strong, nor smart, unable to not only defend itself with the simplicity of a bite, but unable to accomplish the base need of sustenance. You bear your own fangs, perhaps as a threat, perhaps of a (pleading) example.

You mash the food. What food? Well, you did resort to the toads before. If it wanted to live, surely it could eat the toad. No, you were told, (slapped, really, by warrior, daughter of Baul). Toads were unacceptable in either their nutrient fullness or mashed.

You worked hard to mash that.

Fine.

More for you.

It’s still crying.

Shit.

Fruits. Often a rare delicacy on the field. Wildberries were more-so cover than meal; more-so dare than comfort. Take it you damned human, and be grateful. You examine the pale yellows shoved towards your counter corner. An export, a gift from the golden bounties of the Scalding Sands, a gift from your Queen. Tsk. The expense far outweighs the cry of this human.

IT WAILS.

But perhaps it can buy you silence.

Your hand rises, meeting the hilt of your cleaver.

…

Your eye twitches…

No…

No, this will not do.

(Your weapon is clean, you fool! Meticulously sheen and prepped for immediate confrontation! To slice a simple fruit? Please.)

((The blood haunts your weapon. Pestilence haunts your weapon. The cries haunt your weapon– baby.))

(You cannot use your cleaver, it is far above such use for a human.)

You glare at it, and are proud to note its fear. One look, and you have calmed its torrent of tears, though, even now the salt escapes its eyes. But of course, it is nature for the weak to weep in the face of danger. Its eyes are wide and curious. It sniffles, and auroral skies bore into your reddened grounds. Eyes and souls and whatnot.

Look away.

You prefer it crying.

But, ah, there it is again. Soft hiccups, like the light rains of morning dew.

Fine, human. You win for now.

You peel the banana and it coos, birds joining along in song. Mash now… Mash more. More.

…More?

You squint at it. Human.

It blinks.

Yes, yes you. Can you eat… drink… eat this?

Its wide eyes are a nod.

A snarl. Annoying.

It is still lumpy. I shall mash it more, lest you choke and die.

Mash.

Mash.

Mash.

Giggle.

…

Giggle.

Silence, human! Were you not taught the value of patience?

Clapping.

A scoff. Of course not. You humans have no concept of nobility, let alone virtue.

You work at the meal in silence. The sun filters gently through your window. It catches on the boy’s hair, and the strands seem to dance with rainbows. Your arms do not tire from the repetitive motion– please. You’re a trained solider. A dinner cannot cripple you.

The boy smiles at you.

SLAM.

Fine human. Fine. Take your food. Choke.

And even if Lilia’s food is dog shit lol, and he half-way seems to be trolling you, I think there’s a genuine fondness when he prepares a meal. Learning/ *cough* experimenting with recipes seems to be a freedom for him. The freedom of leisure, of finding peace in a meal– fun! even! It’s fun to have the luxury of playing– emphasis on playing!-- with food! Because you can afford it! Because there is a surplus! And it's even more fun to share with your family! (Rip, lol.) And when that joy and (cackled) playfulness is reciprocated with a bite? When your peace has value, and your silliness appreciated? (Even if it’s gross? Lol? DESPITE it being gross?) Gosh, I– I think that genuinely touches him. Even if he’s amused by your (foolishness) bravery, there is a love there. And to have all of this born from raising Silver (obviously)? HA. HAHA. LOSER. HE LOVES HIS SON. WEIRD. LOVES HIM SO MUCH, ENOUGH TO THE POINT OF CHANGE AND EVOLUTION. POINT AND LAUGH.

(Yo, the thought of him feeding his young child? Bro. BRO.)

Anywho, thought you would enjoy this lil brain worm lol. (Idk if you remember, but I actually sent you an anon before! I wrote to you about Sebek and his lil Plover family :) its totally okay if you dont lmao, but just in case, hi!) I hope you’re having a fantastic day :) thanks for all that you write!! <3333

plover anon, you came into my house and ripped out my sobbing heart piece by aching piece— this was wonderful.

it is one of my FAVORITE things in the entire fandom when an author digs inside lilia's general vanrouge persona, particularly now that we do know the bitter, stark contrast of how he behaved prior to finding silver and malleus' birth. how would he have reacted to being the sole guardian of a helpless child, especially one of his enemies, and possibly the child of the very human royalty who were responsible for the decimation of his country, his home? there's no love here, no grief for what's been lost, no bond of loyalty as he shares with malleus. this is a wailing and useless pink, squirming thing— he could not love it less.

and to capture that begrudging, spiteful attempt to simply ensure the child's survival (not care yet! not nurture!) through the act of FOOD no less! the journey of food being so intertwined with the journey of love for his human son is KILLING ME AND I'M IN LOVE!! i am eating up (no pun intended lol) lilia's inner monologue and it is SO SATISFYING!! the way you kept switching between the act of giving sustenance with the same blade that took the lives of this baby's kin, the way that lilia keeps struggling to view the child as anything more than the species responsible for their misery, the fucking hilarious way he keeps getting riled up for thinking he's being bested by silver's refusal of his absolute awful dinner offerings!!!

(and you did it all in second person pov my fucking BELOVED POV!!)

the transition of food from necessity, fuel, a means to an end, to a luxury explored with others, the delight in seeing a loved one's face react to your uncertain attempts— the fact that lilia knows his food is shit, and watches that baby-now-young-man take a bite no matter how many instances he's been stricken by it and smile weakly at him through his grimace and say, perhaps a bit less vinegar, father (father! FATHER!!), the fact that this boy will never refuse him, will love him and his godawful dishes until the end of time!! what kind of love is that but unconditional!!! what has general lilia vanrouge ever done in his long, lonely life to deserve that smile!!!

#lettie's asks #twst lilia #lilia vanrouge #twisted wonderland silver #twst silver #putting this in the tags because it NEEDS to be read #i need everyone emotionally raw over this before the ch7 update tonight #PLOVER ANON MY LOVE FOR YOU IS BOUNDLESS #THIS REALLY WAS SPECIAL <3 #I REMEMBER YOU AND THINK OF THOSE ASKS FONDLY I HOPE YOU ARE WELL!!!