#frakug

Let's actually start with the spicier one. FraKug requires background context into how I write Kugel, I think. For reference, I don't have a set age for them yet, but they're nebulously a t(w)eenager — just old enough to wander around alone without the greater public being alerted. Which is fantastic, because Roderich does not take an active parental role in their life. Kugel is less a child to supervise and more a phenomenon which Roderich bears witness to. There was this idea which Fed and I came up with: Imagine if you will, Roderich asking them while VISIBLY uncomfortable: "What, er... What are you..? Junge oder Mädchen..?" Kugel takes the day to think about it, then answers with an abstract painting of various red shades, hectic splashes and smears, with an actual goat horn piercing the canvas— and that draws the red pigment into question, EUGH. Nevermind, Roderich shouldn't have asked.💧Kugel reveres Roderich as their host country, and for saving their life by moving them to Vienna. They also believe him to be a master artist — and thus he must have understood what Kugel was trying to say with that painting. It is clear. (It is not.) Roderich's solution is to call them, uh... Whatever causes the least conversational friction. Elise is over? She thinks Kugel is a girl; Roderich will refer to her as a girl to keep from confusing anyone. Kugel infers that this is less a semantic convenience and more of an ontological statement. The master artist is giving them a new identity, for today. What could this mean...? What does it mean, to be a girl...?

There is continuous communication breakdown between them, and this is an impediment to active parenting — as if Roderich needed any disincentives. Roderich is just not made to take care of kids. It is a good thing that when Kugel came to him, they were already largely self-sufficient and fiercely independent. They come home every night for dinner, yes? Then they are fine... Sometimes Roderich does worry about them, and sometimes there are genuine moments between them, usually when Kugel has collapsed from exhaustion in the wake of a manic episode. But for the most part, Kugel is left to do their own (weird) thing.

All this to say, Kugel believes they are an adult. In their mind, they may as well be, right? They are well over 50 years old. They have been taking care of themself for quite some time. They actually have some artworks in prestigious galleries, and are an active, respected participant in the Vienna art scene (albeit anonymously, and under a pseudonym). Day in, day out, they are absorbed by studying, pondering, and artistically exploring the human condition. Without a shadow of doubt in their mind, they are an adult.

And, what worse a person to put within Francis' grasp? The long-haired, gender-flexible, artistic big brother who canonically is into kids, and the unsupervised, long-haired, intersex & gender fluid, artistic child who fancies themself mature for their age. The story practically writes itself.

Fran takes the kid to the Louvre and gets high off their unfettered reverence and admiration. It's a religious experience for them, and how cute is that?? It reminds Francis of some of his precious little colonies looking up to him. Ugh, Kugel is almost like a little Veneziano all over again — dammit, he never truly got his hands on Feli, but... Well, how easy would it be to convince Kugel to sketch one another? In the nude, of course; it isn't sexual, it's artistic. I won't go any further in describing that, but I'm sure you can see the potential for manipulation. There's fulfillment of fucked up fantasies Fran has had for a loooong time, and the attention of an older, skilled artist makes Kugel feel special. All flying under the radar thanks to the aforementioned minimal guardian involvement. Fran would go full pederast with it, too. No no, this is his apprentice, he is teaching them about his culture's history and artistic practices. He buys Kugel art supplies, fancy clothes, expensive jewellery. He introduces them to important people to help their art career. He dotes on them. And Kugel doesn't see anything wrong with the situation.

Moreover, because Fran also steps into a pseudo-parental role, Kugel receives a taste of what it might be like to have an active guardian. Fran combs their hair, preens them, teaches them French, regales them with stories of the old days (all heavily-embellished such that he comes out on top — in more ways than one). Fran cooks for them. Real food. Not the paint-splattered bag of potato crisps Kugel usually inhales from a vending machine when they suddenly become cognizant of the fact they haven't eaten in 12 hours. Fran takes them on trips to the countryside, they paint landscapes together. There are good aspects to their relationship, and those are hyper-visible. The rot beneath is concealed by flowers above.

What Kugel needs is a psychiatrist to treat their manic disorder, and a responsible supervisor capable of protecting them from those who would otherwise exploit them — say, Gilbert or Ludwig. They would find this to be restrictive and would take exception to it at first, until their quality of life gradually begins to improve. This is fundamentally at odds with what they want, which is to be treated as an equal to adults, even though they obviously aren't. In the same vein, what Francis needs is therapy to deconstruct his hypersexuality and pro-contact tendencies; what he wants is to relive his former glory through this child's admiration, and isolate with them in his fucked idea of a love story.

And similarly, EngSea is built upon this foundation of joy at the expense of mental health. Another disclaimer: my version of Sealand is history-based as opposed to canon, so he is aged up to 18, which is something I view as more appropriate given he's a WW2 veteran. (If you've murdered Nazis you deserve a drink, haha.) And his issues are innumerable, touching many of the classics: a dog abandoned by his master, a soldier without a war to fight, and an immortal dying a prolonged death. All issues which would be easily-solved if only the bastard whose face he shares acknowledges him. But of course, given the bizarre obsession of the British govt over Sealand, Arthur has acknowledged him, perhaps not in the way he wants though. At any rate, they do not fight like they used to, and both England and Sealand (IRL) are friendly toward one another nowadays. I choose to interpret this as them settling some of their differences.

It is difficult for Arthur to acknowledge all of his wrongdoings to Peter. But should he choose to start making right, he'd find that it's easier than imagined. Because in truth, Peter is far too much like him. His citizens are English, after all. The Sealandic embassy is located in a Toby's car park lmfao. And for a narcissist like Arthur, who craves external validation? Having someone match his tastes and his interests, and offer him undying loyalty (not exactly voluntarily, but still?) is at once everything he's ever wanted, and a recipe for making that narcissism worse. Peter is his mood booster. He wants his trusty fort around — for banter, for validation, for gossip, and for company that understands him. And, when Peter's natural instinct to protect and serve his host country accidentally stray a bit too far into the realm of an incestuous crush? Rather than handle the situation with grace, Arthur pounces on it.

A partner who is his guard dog, who loves him unconditionally, who is already steeped in his culture and loves his shitty food, and who is elated and head-over-heels at any modicum of attention from him. Again, he's everything Arthur's narcissism craves, and exactly what's needed to make it worse. Peter soothes his insecurities and reinforces his biases. Arthur's ego becomes outright insufferable to others, which in turn drives him back toward Peter. On Peter's end, he gradually and reluctantly compromises more and more of himself for Arthur's love; Arthur wants his fort. He does not want "England's Cuba" (actual quote from declassified British govt docs). The more he coaxes Peter into following his instincts as his fort, the more he pulls him away from his identity as Sealand. This is both a relief to Peter (who has been suffering a six-decade identity crisis from the duality of being an English military installation and a pirate/secessionist) and very disconcerting. In his mind, Roughs and Sealand are two very different people — and Arthur being insistent on Roughs makes him feel rather vulnerable. But if it's for Arthur...

There is, of course, quite a bit of good to the relationship. For starters, Arthur finally has someone he can trust fully, and subsequently be entirely vulnerable around. Even if it is sometimes reluctantly so. Some of his paranoia is soothed over by the ability to relax and let Peter serve him. No, not everyone is out to get him, and he is safe here... They also make huge strides in getting Arthur to be less bitterly self-deprecating, and also less uptight. He's more willing to be a bit goofy and nerdy while around Peter. Wearing the Tom Baker scarf outside, over their matching jumpers. Getting Peter a replica of The One Ring. Outings to Adventure Island in Southend, the beach, and self-indulgent niche historic tours that Peter positively eats up — take this lad up to Old Saltburn!! Hell, even taking him to iconic tourist spots will have him marveling. Peter also works through a good bit of his issues while with Arthur. Fewer war nightmares, less emotional dysregulation, and he begins to unpack some of his food trauma. Slowly but surely. Arthur can see the improvement and that only feeds into his ego more. Look at how good he is for Peter, look at how 80+ years of trauma are melting away. Who else could do this but him...?

Again, those good things are hyper-visible and disguise the worse parts. Arthur has a penchant for pushing Peter's boundaries, and it's a learning curve to manipulate him without pushback. One hint of frustration or anger and Peter is snapping in return, falling back upon his rebellious tendencies. For every failure, there is a lover's squabble which ends in Peter crawling back to him, and/or Arthur offering a half-baked apology after some serious reflection. He thinks won't push those boundaries again, except... Except he does. Just with more skill. And when Arthur finds the correct way to frame it — as a favour Peter is doing him, and lavishing him in praise and affection — then he truly has Peter eating from the palm of his hand, even against his own self-interest. In this way, they descend into hell together. Peter is slowly stripped of his autonomy, Arthur's worst traits are fed by Peter's admiration, and they become awfully co-dependent. But god, are they happy while hurting themselves.