#Constantine grabbed the boy before any deals could be made

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #142

It was considered a pretty big deal when a new ancient gets born. Danny didn’t and wouldn’t know this when he gets into an accident. A signal went out to all magic users that the ancient of space was born as soon as he stepped out of the portal and then things changed. If you could make a deal with an ancient it increased your power way more than that of a demon. Soon Danny gets chased by all sorts of folk trying to make a deal with him. He then gets caught by John Constantine who takes him back to the safety of the watchtower. What is the safest place to put the space ancient? In space!

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Lost Boys

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam, Superfam

Summary: After Jonathan Lane Kent wipes himself from existence by canceling his own timeline, he finds himself stuck in the afterlife where he meets Jason Todd. He still wonders about the life un-lived on Earth, and how his parents would've felt about him.

Jason Todd, who is making the most of being dead, struggles with the reality of what he's left behind. He has one wish and one wish only: to send his family one final message.

Chapters: 10/?

Characters: Jonathan Lane Kent (Laney), Jason Todd, Catherine Todd, Boston Brand, Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, Lois Lane, John Constantine, Raven, Talia al Ghul, Ra's al Ghul, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake

Relationships: Platonic JayLaney

Additional Tags: Angst, Platonic Relationships, Magical Jason Todd, Resurrected Jason Todd, Queerplatonic Relationships, Canon Divergent AU, POV Multiple

Chapter Ten: Don't Dream It's Over (Jason's POV)

If I had known Dick was driving us back home, I would've said no. It wasn't that I couldn't stand him. It was that I'd never spent that kind of time with him before. "Jason, please stick your arm back in the window," Dick commanded gently. I obeyed and rolled my window up. Laney nudged me from the middle of the bench seat. Yes, the car's bench seat. My brother's car was that old. "What's wrong?" "I'm fine," I mumbled. I wasn't. I was bored, and it was making me angry.

Dick pulled into an empty lot in the middle of nowhere and got out of the car. "Wanna drive for a little bit?" Dick asked. I nodded and got in the driver's seat. "I should've asked earlier... I know you're not a kid anymore, but it's hard to get past... The past." I buckled my seatbelt and started driving. I didn't know what to say to Dick. "Say thank you," Laney whispered. "Dick? Thank you," I whispered. Dick smiled. "How's your friend, Laney, doing?" Dick asked. Laney gave me a thumb's up. "You wanna talk to him, don't you? See that he's real?" I asked. Laney chuckled, and I messed up his hair. "Cut it out," Laney laughed. I liked hearing his laugh. "Jason? Could I take—? Can I try to borrow your body?" I made a little noise of disgust before laughing at him. "Promise never to use that wording again, and it's a deal," I replied, "You've got thirty minutes." Laney grabbed my hand, and I felt for a moment as if I was going to pass out, and once that passed, I was outside my body. It felt strange being weightless. I watched him as he tried to readjust to possessing my physical body, and the first thing he did was roll down the window and puke. Dick pulled over, and Laney pressed my palms against my eyelids. "Sorry, I'm Laney..." He reached over me and shook Dick's hand. "I didn't expect this to be as pain—." "Thirty minutes, Lane," I interrupted. I didn't want anyone to know I had any kind of pain. It wasn't worth worrying about. "So, did you and Jason date—?" "No. Why does everyone think we dated? If he was just a boyfriend, I wouldn't have followed him all this way, and I wouldn't put up with his stubbornness the way I do. I mean, I love him, but it's different than that kind of love," Laney confessed. It was weird hearing him talk with my voice. "He's my best friend." "What was he like in the afterlife?" Dick asked.

"He was the first person I met there. All he ever did was try to make me happy... But he was also a lot like he is now. That's what makes it so easy to deal with him when he's being stubborn. We used to go swimming and flying, and we ate dinner with Catherine every day—." "His mom? What's she like?" Dick asked. He was really interested. Laney lay his head back and took a breath. "Jason's so much like her... If you look at Jason and you see who he is—. Who he really is, you see her," Laney whispered. I got a little misty-eyed, and I turned my head. Laney looked at me. "Don't get a big head, Jason—." "Thanks, Lane," I whispered. "Did he talk about us to you?" Dick asked. "All the time. He used to talk about you guys all the time. I can't really say because he'll take his body back, but he cares about you both so much more than he'll ever admit to," Laney whispered, "Oh, he did have a question for you specifically... Did you mean what you said to him about being on the team if that's what he really wanted?" "Is that what he still wants?" Dick asked. Laney looked at me, and I shook my head. "He's not sure. I'm glad I finally got to talk to you... You know, Dick, I'd love to stay and chat, but I think I'll give Jason his body back now," Laney replied before grabbing my hand. I felt like I was being sucked back into my body. I almost forgot the feeling of pain in my shoulders and the pain in my head. "Jason, are you in pain like that all the time?" Laney asked. "Jason?" I nodded, and Laney pulled at a few strands of my hair. "Cut that shit out," I mumbled as I looked out the window. "I can't believe being in my body was such a visceral experience for Lane that he puked."

"Shut up," Laney whispered. Dick took a sip of soda and started driving. "He really seems like he cares about you. Jason, are you okay?" Dick asked. "I mean, I just want-. Jason, you never told me what your plans were once we get to Gotham." "I haven't decided yet," I whispered, "Mind if I drive after the next stop?" "You can drive whenever you want... If you get some sleep," Dick replied. I turned back toward the window. "If you get two good hours of sleep, I'll hand the keys over." I crossed my arms and closed my eyes. Dick knew he wouldn't get two uninterrupted hours of sleep from me, let alone a good fifteen-minute cat nap, but I was willing to try. I felt someone watching me, and I opened my eyes. I was looking at Bruce, but he looked right through me. I looked around and realized the only place I could've been looking from was the picture on the mantle of Bruce and me at a baseball game. I couldn't move myself to speak. I wondered if Bruce still thought of me. I loved him so much, and I assumed he'd moved on completely. "Jason?" Laney whispered, and I took a sharp breath in and woke up in the car. "Are you alright?" Dick got in the car and looked at me. "What happened?" Dick asked. I rolled the car window down and let the cool air hit me. "I saw Bruce," I whispered breathlessly, "I saw him. He was looking at the mantle, and I was—." "Jason, we're in the middle of Colorado right now," Dick whispered, "But maybe you did see him... Are you alright?" Laney lay his head on my shoulder. "You'll be okay," Laney reassured me. Seeing the look in Bruce's eye made me remember that he wasn't just Batman to me. He was my father, and I missed him more than anything. "Dick, I think I want to see him," I whispered.

[slumberingcorpse]

A Date with Destiny

John Constantine/Bruce Wayne

Part 1

Summary: After years of physically and mentally training abroad, Gotham’s missing young prince, Bruce Wayne is finally heading back home, but not before spending some months in London where he encounters the rugged and yet charming John Constantine.

The finishing line is in view. After years of being away, Bruce was finally heading home, and yet, he feels uneasy. Is he truly ready? Can he truly avenge his parents? Take down Gotham’s biggest crime families and restore Gotham’s good name? Or is it all for nothing? Is all this just some rich boy’s pipe dream to cope with the fact that his parents were murdered in front of him?

Alfred’s last words to him echo in his head, “Your parents would want you to be happy.” When was the last time he felt happy? All he can remember is training and studying. There was no time for childish games or making friends. Bruce had felt loneliness and pain but hardly any happiness. He was already in his twenties and yet hasn’t even had his first kiss though there were a few who he wanted to. There wasn’t enough time, there was never enough time to explore romance. By the time he had even realized his romantic feelings, his things were packed, and the plane tickets were bought for the next flight. No, there wasn’t time to be happy.

Bruce’s head was spinning. He wasn’t sure if it was jet lag or his anxiety. Either way, it was hard to focus.

“Sir? Sir?” a soft voice calls out snapping Bruce out of his paranoid thoughts, “Umm...yes?” he asks turning towards the voice. It was one of the flight attendants, not much older than himself. Pretty green eyes, straight brown hair brushed into a tight bun. She was pretty and from the blush, on her cheeks, it seemed that she found Bruce quite easy on the eyes as well. Sadly, Bruce wasn’t in the mood. Again, there wasn’t any time for such things.

“Umm...we landed sir. We need you to leave the plane,” She informs tugging on her uniform sleeves anxiously.

Bruce’s eyes widen as he realizes he was the only passenger left on the plane. How could he have not noticed that before?

“R-right...I’m sorry,” Bruce muttered unconsciously as he quickly gets up and grabs his suitcase. Traveling so much had made Bruce frugal. Only the necessities were packed. Two causal outfits to wear and one suit in case of a special occasion. Everything else was disregarded as unimportant and would be left behind.

Making his way out of the plane and airport made his head throb. So much noise, so many people, everything happening. It was an overwhelming chaos that makes one wonder if they were actually in hell. Bruce managed to make a quick escape through the swarm of people and cut through the noise to finally settle down in a cab.

It reeked of cigarettes, vomit, and liquor but at least it was quiet.

“Where are you heading to?” the driver asks as he lights a cigarette.

Bruce wrinkles his nose at the smell but does his best to stay polite “The Bulgari Hotel, please.”

The cabby whistles, “Pricey place. You royalty or somethin’?”

“Or something...” Bruce coldly answers being too exhausted for small talk. Alfred would have a fit if he ever found out but then again, he was an ocean away.

By the time Bruce made it to his room, he was too tired to do anything else other than sleep. Upon entering, he carelessly tossed his case aside and toed off his shoes before finally flopping on the silk-sheeted king-size bed.

Bruce moaned in ecstasy at the feeling of the soft cushion under him. It had been so long. For years he had to deal with lumpy old beds that reeked of dust and were, most likely than not, covered in bedbugs. And that’s when he did get a bed. More often than not, he would have to sleep on the floor and sometimes was given an old blanket. But that doesn’t matter now, he finally had a bed. A real soft and warm bed with freshly washed silk sheets. It was truly heaven.

Wrapping himself in those heavenly sheets, Bruce quickly falls asleep with the biggest smile on his face. Of course, like everything else, it didn’t last. His smile faded into whimpers.

It’s that night again. Two bangs. First was his father then his mother. There was so much blood. He wanted to run, to scream, but instead, he just stood there, frozen. There’s nothing he can do. He hears the shooter walk closer and cock his gun again. The man aims his gun at him, but he doesn’t shoot. Instead, he walks away. Why? Why did he walk away? Leaving a witness no less? Why? Why? Why?

Why did he have to be the one to live?

Bruce jolts awake in a panic. His heart hammered against his chest, his chest tightened, his body trembled, and beads of cold sweat ran down his face.

“I-I’m okay...I’m in London...in a hotel...tenth floor...room 345...” Bruce muttered to himself forcing himself to take deep breaths. He thought he’d be used to them by now, the nightmares. Back home, Alfred would always hold him. Squeeze him tightly as he listed off different items around his room. To ground him, to help him realize he wasn’t in a crime alley anymore, that he was safe. Alfred isn’t here now though. He was alone, in a strange place, in a strange bed, and even though he was a thousand miles away from that damned alleyway, he was still there, frozen and covered in his parent’s blood.

Unable to stay another second in the room, Bruce quickly put on his shoes and left to wander the streets of London.

He looked awful and disheveled. Nothing befitting the high standards of Gotham royalty. Not that it mattered here in London. He was a nobody here. Just another stranger on the street, hell, with how he looked some may think he was a drunkard or junkie.

Bruce mindlessly stumbled along the London streets. His whole body ached, his head was still throbbing, and it wasn’t until now that he realized that he was starving. When was the last time he ate?

Suddenly the smell of food caught his attention. Following the scent, he found himself in an old cramped pub filled to the brim with all types of people. Leather jackets, ripped jeans, colorful mohawks, and combat boots. All crammed into one location Bruce has never seen something like this before.

At the end of the pub was a small stage where an unknown band played. In center stage was the lead singer, a blonde guy with gelled-up hair, ripped jeans, a black leather choker, and a tee shirt with Mucus Membrane plastered on it. Next to him was the bassist and guitarist with a similar style and behind them was the keyboardist and drummer.

The lead singer’s voice was quite nice but other than that, the band was god awful. Even some of the crowd seemed to notice, the sober ones at least. Bruce paid it no mind though, instead, he made his way to the bar and ordered some fish n’ chips.

He sat there and waited for his food all while watching the band continue. Something was charming about them. It was obvious that they were attempting to make some sort of music but were falling short. It was more inspiring if anything.

“Here’s your food, sir,” the bartender says placing the food basket in front of him. Bruce’s mouth watered at just the sight. When was the last time he had eaten any sort of greasy food? 2? 4 years?

It was pure desperation that drove Bruce to just tear into the piece of fried fish. Alfred would have a heart attack seeing his appalling table manners, but he didn’t care. It was food. Greasy, fatty, junk food.

“Easy there, luv, you’ll choke eating like that.” A hoarse voice tells him. Looking up, Bruce comes face to face with no other than the lead singer of the band. Up close, it was obvious that he was around the same age as him though he was a few inches shorter than him. He was very handsome though.

Bruce slowly swallows his last bite, “Sorry, it’s been a while since I last ate.”

“Oh? Is that what you Americans are doing now? Starving yourselves before scarfing down some fish n’ chips in a rundown pub?” the singer chuckles before sitting beside him and extending his hand, “John Constantine.” he greets with a sly grin.

Bruce stares at his hand for a moment before wiping his hands clean with a napkin and shaking Constantine’s hand. It was shockingly warm and yet callus, very similar to his own but Bruce doubts John’s hands were due to rigorous training.

“I’m Bruce...Pennyworth...” he greets. The last thing he wants is the media to be dogging him besides, Alfred was practically a second father to him.

“Well, then Pennyworth. What brings you all the way over to good old London?” John asks swiping a chip out of Bruce’s basket.

“Vacation. My...father...says I should take some time off. To enjoy my youth so to speak...or what’s left of it. What about you? Why are you here?” Bruce asks watching John carefully.

John smirks at the question, “What do you mean? I’m from here.” Bruce could’ve sworn that his eyes sparkled in the low light.

“That’s not true. Your accent. It’s from Liverpool isn’t it?”

Constantine chuckles, “Handsome and smart. Quite the combination.” he says mischievously smiling as he slowly moves his foot up Bruce’s leg.

A shiver goes down Bruce’s spine. His cheeks heat up. Is he being flirted with? He wasn’t prepared for this and yet he didn’t dislike it.

John leans over and hovers his mouth over his ear. Bruce’s heart skips a beat, “How about we get some drinks?” he suggests. His hot breath tickled the hairs at the back of his neck. He smelt like cigarettes and strong liquor and yet there was also the scent of strong herbs and scented candles.

Bruce’s mouth was dry. The other’s scent was making him dizzy. Who the hell is this guy? How can he be reduced to this so quickly? How can he make him stay?

Finally finding the words to say, Bruce opens his mouth but is only interrupted by another man calling Constantine.

“Enough fooling around John! Time to go!” the man calls out.

John sighs and pulls away, “Alright, alright, I’m coming.” he grumbles before turning back to Bruce, “Maybe next time, Pennyworth.” he says before quickly leaving with his bandmates.

Bruce’s eyes follow Constantine out the door. His heart was still pounding. He can still feel his breath against his neck, what did that man do to him?

Next part: Part 2

[thatlittlered]

Return | The Witcher

“Weren’t expecting me?”

“I never do.”

“I thought you’d be happier to see me.”

“I thought I would see you more often, but as you so kindly like to point out, I might just be the most naïve of persons.”

“You know how it is.”

You do know. There’s this unspoken agreement that he can borrow your heart and body and give them back before sunrise. Except he went back on his part of the deal long ago. He kept the former.

He flinches and you notice.

“Are you harmed?”

“Barely.”

“Then why are you here?”

“… For you.”

“Let me see.”

His shirt is soft under your fingertips, expensive linen. You dare not ask how he acquired it and focus instead on the blood stains all over. Lifting it seems like the worst of ideas, and yet you do it anyways.

You damn your own soul like it’s nothing.

“Barely, my ass. This will need stitches.”

His responding grunt lights something inside you.

“Why come here? It’s not deep enough to be dangerous and the area is within reach, you could do it yourself. I’ve seen you take care of worse.”

“I told you… I’m here for you.”

“Aren’t I lucky?”

His eyes follow you, along with his body. He stands tall and wide and firm in front of you, unwavering and unflinching as you pierce the tender skin and pull the needle through. And yet, his head hangs low, closer to your height as if he’s trying to cover some distance.

“Go sit on the bed, you’re blocking out all the light.”

He doesn’t complain, your sweet Geralt. Always the source of your agony, the path to your doom.

You’re standing heartbreakingly close, his thigh grazing your knee and breaths matching in the silence.

His head drops again, looking for something.

“You always smell so good.”

“Stop distracting me, or it’ll leave a scar.”

“Won’t be the first.”

Geralt’s hand reaches for yours. Never grabs, never demands. He lays your palm on his cheek and you wonder just how many women he’s allowed to do that.

The answer is none.

“Tell me you missed me.”

There’s something about his voice... he could ask you to jump your death and you’d happily do it. Not that all of this is any less painful.

“Tell me you need me.”

He kisses your pulse and revels in your life; the fragile and beautiful humanity of you.

Breathing seems harder every second.

“There’s this man…”

He lets your hand drop. Everything hurts.

“… from the village. He asked for my hand in marriage.”

There’s no reply, just heavy breathing and raw emotion hanging in the air.

“He’s a good boy, real sweet. Seems crazy about me – he even helped with my garden this winter-“

“Is he a man or a boy then?”

“Geralt…“

“And what did you say?”

“I haven’t given him an answer yet. I told him I needed some time and he was fine with that.”

“He must be keeping himself pretty busy then.”

“Not all men are like that, Geralt!”

“And I am?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

He scoffs, body rushing off the bed in a manner that must pull the stitches, but if it hurts, he makes no move to show it.

“Do you love him?”

“No.”

“But you’re willing to marry him?”

“I don’t know.”

His palms are warm on your face, warm and all-consuming as he cradles your cheeks, foreheads touching in the silent battle of your hearts screaming love at each other.

“And what about me? I need you.”

“You don’t need me, Geralt, you’re more than capable of looking after yourself. I need to do the same.”

“That’s not what I meant. I need you to be here, I need you to be mine.”

“I can’t be yours if you can’t be mine.”

“…but you want to.”

He kisses you and you let him.

You let him take you, your body awakening with a desire that’s been so deeply rooted inside you. Lips touch again and again and your skin remembers nothing but the feeling of his by the time he’s done.

All you know now is this sweet sensation; the warmth of his body a salve to the wounds he himself has caused in your entire being. He holds you impossibly close, chests and stomachs and everything touching.

His silence is nothing new. You’re always happy to talk instead, but it seems awfully difficult this time. You opt to trace his scars instead and everything inside him softens. For once, your souls are just as naked and in sync as your bodies.

“This one is new… so is this one.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I think ‘worried’ is the word you’re looking for.”

Silence washes over you again. You can’t help but wonder what he’ll do to ruin it this time.

“This man-boy… will he fuck you this good?”

There it is. He’s sealed his fate and he knows it.

“No, but he won’t be gone come morning either.”

You make to untangle yourself from his embrace, unable to understand what kind of sick pleasure he derives from toying with your feelings.

His grip is firm on you.

“I missed you. I need you. I’m crazy about you.”

“You have a funny way of showing it.”

“I don’t know how else.” He whispers it like a guilty child, desperate for your forgiveness.

“Stay.”

The golden of his eyes darkens. His mind is made.

Turns out he can appreciate the sunrise better from your windows.

Return often and take me,

Beloved sensation, return and take me

When the memory of the body awakens,

And old desire runs against through the blood;

When the lips and the skin remember

And the hands feel as if they touch again

 Return often and take me at night

When the lips and the skin remember…

                Return - Constantine P. Cavafy

A/N: Started making this... had a breakdown... bon appétit.

Tags: @ateliefloresdaprimavera @xcharlielechefx @sunflowersandstringlights​ @memyselfandmaddox​ @geeksareunique​ @thepoet1975 @laneygthememequeen​

[devotedwaywardangel1]

Of Treaties and Nervous Rekindling

Leon x Male!Reader

Fandom: BBC Merlin

Word count: 1667

Warnings: Nightmares

A/N: This is a third try of writing this as they kept turning to multi chapter stories, if I turn the original into a multi chapter fic I’ll post it on AO3. See if you can find the small film reference.

Tagged: @fandom-star​

~~~~~~~

Being in the great hall has got to be the stupidest thing that you have ever done and there is a long list. If Constantine, your idiotic King, got us killed out of good intentions you swear to Furies that you’ll kill him in the after life. A black domino mask covers your face as you kneel at King Arthur’s fury. He is yet to know who you all are yet and boy he is going to have a heart attack, fun times. Sloane has her raven black hair covering her face as she is shoved to her knees, making you growl at the cocky knight who thought he could be boastful. Zathrian’s auburn hair has been un-neatened by an almost comically large man. King Arthur’s voice booms across the hall. “Who are you and what is your business in Camelot?”

“I am Constantine, King of Dumnonia.” He speaks in an authoritative tone. 

“What?” The King seems shocked

“A letter was sent informing you of our arrival a month ago, we are here to simply renew a treaty.” 

“Merlin! Get the documents on my desk now.” He growls.

A scrawny servant runs from the King’s side past you. Minutes later he and other knights enter and you see Leon. It had been over a decade since you last saw him and damn he grew up, probably taller than you now, hair hasn’t changed one bit. You’re now thankful for the mask you were wearing otherwise he would have known it’s you straight away. The serving boy hands the king the letter and you can see the embarrassment on his face as it proves your innocence.

“I apologise for the misunderstanding, we thought-” The King started 

“That we were here to kill you, don’t flatter yourself.” Sloane snaps.

“Slo, play nice.” Constantine tells her sternly before standing up.

You follow suit. “It was an honest mistake, do you want to try again on the first impressions.” Constantine rensures.

The King looks shocked, but having Uther as a parent would make him think he was going to be punished for a mistake such as this. You brush yourself off, in an attempt to be somewhat presentable. “That would be appreciated, your Majesty.” Arthur nods.

They made their introductions but you were busy scowling at the now apologetic looking knight, Gwaine, who shoved Slo on the ground. Until she elbows you in the ribs causing you to grunt and childishly stick your tongue at her. She flicks your nose and laughs as it scrunches up. Zathrian is smiling. “Behave.” Constantine turns around after shaking the King’s hand to scold us. 

“But…” Zath tries.

“No buts or ifs. My apologies, they are children I swear.”

“What are your names?” Gwen asks, you didn’t even sense her coming in the room.

“Zathrian, m'lady.” He bows down respectfully.

“Sloane.” She nods.

“Ulrich Von Liechtenstein.” you smile coyly, why you said that you don’t know.

Zath and Slo double over laughing and Constantine gives you a glare but you just shrug it off. “That’s not his name, he just thinks he’s funny.” 

“(Y/n), at your service sir and on the contrary I’m hilarious.” You smile, removing your mask stuffing it into a trouser pocket.

You look at Leon and he is smiling, oh gods that smile it felt like everything good in this world smacks you in the face. You smile back. “(Y/n)? Your name sounds familiar.” Arthur asks.

“It should, your father did torture me after all.” I raise my eyebrow, where is my damn filter you think. All traces of happiness dissipate from your face with all fairness. You do look scary when you appear monotonous. 

“What do you mean?” He asks, you turn to get Constantine’s approval he nods.

“I used magic to save a child’s life.” 

“You have magic.” He looks at you with anger and disgust.

“Yes, sire.” You remain stoic with your jaw tensing.

The knights of Camelot tense up, Leon eyes them before looking at you. That's when you know he doesn’t hate you. He’s worried. You shake it off and bow down at the King’s feet and mercy. If he were to kill you a war may start but it would be against a dishonorable man, if he shows mercy and a willingness to learn there is hope for Albion yet. “Rise, I wish to understand not to do harm.”

“Oh thank Clementia, really I thought I was going to die.” Shit that was out loud.

“One condition, it's not to be used to harm any one.” He adds.

“I can't, my magic lies in the art of healing, transformation and a few other things.” You explain.

“What do you mean?” The king asks 

“Everyone’s magic is different, I can’t use spells that purposely inflict harm unless threatened.” You shrug.

“Good to know.” He seems to relax.

“That’s why I stab people instead.” You smile.

“(Y/n)! Stop trying to be funny. It will get you killed!” Constantine nearly shouts.

The knight with shoulder length hair starts to laugh hysterically. You just smile and look down holding in your laugh, looking at Leon he’s smiling. Constantine looks ready to cry, out of frustration probably. The King is unable to respond. Zath grabs my shoulder and pulls you out. “Us two are leaving before the wanna be Menander kills himself.” He drags you out without another word.

You sigh in relief as the doors of the great hall close behind you. “Thanks I couldn’t stop.” You rub that back of your neck awkwardly.

“No problem, tavern?” He suggests.

“Are we allowed to go without Slo?” You ask seriously.

“It gives an opportunity for Constaloane to happen.” Zath justifies.

“Fair lets go.” You agree.

~~~~

Both of you came back after a couple of tankards and Zath is drunk off his ass, lightweight. While you’re a little fuzzy. You spot the serving boy from the hall. “Kid!” You catch his attention.

He turns around smiling as he walks up to you. “Hi can I help you, Sirs.” He asks.

“Don’t worry about titles, but could you show us to our rooms if we have them.” 

“Of course, follow me.” He whispers seeing Zath close to asleep on you.

You drag Zath to his room, and put him on the bed. “Thank you…”

“Merlin, Sir (Y/n).” He smiles and nods.

“Thank you Merlin.” You return the smile.

You enter the guest room and collapse onto the bed and sleep overcomes you in a matter of seconds.

A crack of a whip resonates through a dark cell a pained groan follows, another crack and another. Chains rattle as a boy pulls on them in an attempt to break free. High pitch whistling signaled trouble brewing under the surface. The boy’s skin started to crack golden light seeping from the cracks turning pure black. (E/c) eyes started to well up with tears as he felt himself being torn apart. Screams erupt from his throat and the boy is replaced with a mass of hissing black smoke.

You bolt up sweating and panting. You groan and stretch, the sun is peeking over the horizon so you decide to change into your armour and head over to the training field that you had spotted the previous day. There is a training dummy already set up, you draw your sword and begin hacking into it aggressively and it takes mere minutes for you to destroy it, yet you feel no better. You look around desperately for something to take out your rage, fear and sorrow on. You hear a cough, your head snaps at the direction of the noise. It's Leon. He walks up to you slowly as if you were a scared animal. “(Y/n), we didn’t get a chance to talk yesterday.”

“Sorry.” You look to your feet.

He backtracks quickly “No it’s not an issue, obviously you were nervous being back here.”

“Eh you know, son of Uther kinda scary.”

“Arthur has grown.”

“I know.”

“But I’m not here to talk about Arthur.”

You smile and shake your head. “I suppose not.”

“You left without me, why?”

Well that escalated from a trot to a full on gallop. But you manage to get words out. “I couldn’t uproot you from your home and family.”

“That should have been my choice to make.”

“You know what, I don’t feel bad if that’s what you want. I was tortured, I got literally torn apart. You would have got killed, and that would have been on me!” You defend.

He looks taken aback. “What?” 

“Slave traders, I suppressed my magic then boom… a lot of people died.”

He touches your face and you want to lean into the touch but you can’t seem to. So he initiates the hug instead keeping you in a tight hold, you hesitate to return it seeing it has been a while since you’ve been held. You both stay like that for a while, before Leon breaks the hug with a heartbroken expression. You dread what he is about to say. ”Do you think we could ever be possible?”

“I don’t know… I’m not the same man you loved all those years ago.” 

“Then let’s get to know each other again, let me fall for you all over again.”

“Sounds like you already started.”

“I started as soon as I saw you smile.”

You smile up at him. But inside you are conflicted, if this were to work out how will it work. You love your new life, Constantine is more than just your King he is your friend he gave you a chance when no one else would. Sloane was the one who pulled you out of rubble after you exploded. Zathrian forge your nobility papers to get your foot through the door of knighthood. But you guess you’ll cross that bridge later and pray it goes well for the both of you. 

“Come on we have a treaty to deal with.” You start walking.

[blissfulalchemist]

"we've lost so much time" for hypatia/conner? <3

Okay so this was going to be so much longer (like 5k kind of long) but the other time I wanted to use this line I realized wasn’t going to fit so you get like half of what would be a chapter. Lo Siento. But it’s still pretty long. (◕‿◕)♡

I needed to buy a burner phone, or at least something separate from the three I currently had. Two for the Alchemists, because it was better for them to just pay for a personal cell phone now along with one for work, and the one that was for only Abe and my mom. Four, I was on to four phones now that Tia finally called me. Seven months of silence from her, I would have worried more about her but it seemed she kept the crystal keychain. I could at least always tell she was alive when I could check in, a small blessing with her.

She wanted to meet up with me in person, three days and she’d be back in St. Louis, not the smartest decision if you asked me. She needed to stay away from here as much as possible, she shouldn’t have even been contacting me really, not that it ever stopped her before. I sigh as I open the door to my apartment, the only thing I was able to do on my own, keys tossed into the bowl on the small kitchen table, as I make my way to the fridge. I don’t know why I do when there’s no appetite to be had. My stomach hasn’t stopped turning since I heard her voice once more. 

They need my help, they, she’s found people to join her little crusade, I wonder if I’ll get to meet some of them. Couldn’t tell me exactly what it was they needed my help with, it has to do with getting information or else I wouldn’t have been called. The sharp ring of cell phone prime stops the rumination of what exactly Tia and her merry band of thieves are up too. 

“If it isn’t my favorite warlock,” Abe greets as if I was the one to initiate this call, “How are things in St. Louis?”

My eyes roll, as I fall into the couch trying to relax, “How many times do I have to remind you I’m not a warlock,” my voice is the only part of me that’s obeyed as I drop the American accent.

“Well you did make a deal for some power, my boy,” he retorts, I can almost see the smile he has.

Yeah some power I have being your dog, “St. Louis is fine. They’re all still trying to look for Caro.”

“And after seven months,” Abe hums a second, “Have you been able to find anything else about her? What makes her so special to them?”

“I can’t get access to anything, I’m no hacker.”

“Surely your magic can get you somewhere,” his tone has dropped lower, I’m not doing my job in his eyes, or I’m just being difficult, “A little persuasion never hurt anyone.”

I stiffen, “You know exactly how I feel about your idea of persuasion,” my voice meets his in a growl, “That’s crossing into dark magic. I don’t do dark magic.”

“If you want to get out of this job and debt,” Abe taunts, if he was at a desk I’m sure he’d be leaning over it to look deep into your soul, “you better get a little more comfortable with the idea of it.”

My jaw clenches, “I’ll ask her myself, she’s returning in a few days.”

He’s silent for just the smallest amount of time, “Is she now?”

I nod, leaning back against the couch, “She said they needed some information I have access too.” I don’t know that I do but I just hope that my bluff will get some hint on who Tia might be with. 

“Well I hope you can get it for them,” should have known better, “Till next time Enache.” The call ended and I was back to being alone once more, eyes lazily looking at the clock on the wall, too early for any type of sleep and mom would be out in the garden still. I flipped the stereo on grabbing the old journal mom sent back with me, she wanted help translating and seeing if there could be any improvements to the spells from some great aunt some long time ago. It's been harder to get through them with Tia being gone, some of my ancestors encoded their works and Tia always had a different way of thinking that cracked it faster than me. It all started to blur together and the next thing I felt was weightless.

Maybe weightless wasn’t the right word as I felt sunlight burn at my eyes as I seemed to sink father into a bed. Wherever I was, it was warm and surrounded by the scent of citrus, my arms wrapped around its source. My lips turn upward, I know exactly who it is with me as I sink my face deeper into her hair pulling her closer. I’d have this dream before, I know I have, to finally have it real and right here with me….I can’t think of anything better. 

She stirs, her hand grabbing onto mine, “Good morning, C-man,” Tia’s greetings haven’t changed for me and I don’t think they will any time soon, “You know what today is?” Did I? I open my eyes looking to my left hand, no sign of a ring and the only thing glittering is the lingering golden lily on her hand. “Smallville,” she teased, “you forgot what today was didn’t you?”

“I-. No,” its somewhere stuck in my brain, I should know this answer, “It's about us, I know that.”

She laughed, turning to face me, her hazel eyes sparkling like peridots in the morning light, “Of course it’s about us,” her fingers trace down my jaw, “It's Mardi Gras, the day I ran away,” I know her hands are going to start tracing around the runes along my ribs.

“Why should that matter so much? Why can’t it just be Mardi Gras again,” there’s something off with my words, they don’t feel right speaking to her. I speak to her differently during these times, I know I do….so why does it feel like I’m forcing my speech in a way I dislike?

 “We’ve lost so much time because of it Conner,” she says softly, the sun’s rays bringing forth the gold in her hazel green eyes, “I should have never-.” 

I sigh, tilting her chin up, “I know why you did it,” Conner, she called me Conner….did I never tell her my real name? I take another look around us, I can’t place how I know, how I can even see it, but everything looks so soft around the edges and….foggy. I always told her in these fantasies, told her everything, we were both finally happy because there were no more secrets between the two of us. A chill starts on the back of my neck.

“I know but think about all that could have happened between us if I never did,” she kisses me, her lips soft and guiding, just as I always imagined it would be, the alarms in my mind attempting to overpower how good this all feels.This can’t be real….it feels real but….Her arms pull me closer, enticing me, “We could have had all this sooner. You and me together….”

There at the end of that word, I can feel it, the barest touch of a claw just outside of this fantasy….someone else was here. I jump up from the sheets, Tia’s eyes going wide, “I have to go,” I’m almost naked and I search for some kind of clothing, guess even in a dream I still had feelings of needing to cover up around others. 

“Conner wait,” she calls, hand reaching for me, “Don’t go.” Her eyes plead with me despite the small laughter she tried to use to hide the desperation in her voice. I hesitate. “Just stay here with me,” she’s on the bed on her knees, arms moving around my neck, biting her lower lip, “We can have everything you ever wanted. We never have to part again, we can live here, it can be anything you want.” Everything I ever wanted….so tempting of an offer. I’d never have to be Abe’s dog, never have to worry about leaving this place I call home, never have to have Tia away from me…. 

I take hold of her hands, shaking my head, “No,” I breathe out, stunning her a moment, “You’re not Tia. This isn’t real,” my thumb brushes along her cheek, as she presses her face more into my hand. I want to stay…., “I have to go.”

I turn away from her, my head making contact with the top of the van, I should have known it was her van, I can’t help but smile. “Conner don’t go! Stay!” She pleads once more, whoever made this fantasy did a good job in matching the way Tia’s voice sounds when she’s near tears, I only ever heard it the one time, “Don’t leave me here all alone! I need you! I don’t want you to leave me again!” Her words sting, though there’s no reason for them too, I never left her, “I’m sorry. I regret leaving you. Please stay with me, help us make up for lost time.”

I stiffen momentarily before a smirk comes to my lips. Nice try, I want to yell out to whoever it is that’s wanting to hold me here, “See now I know that you’re not her,” I look over my shoulder to the fake, “All you can do is just look like her, you could never match the real thing.” 

I step out of the van, into nothing solid with everything vanishing around me. I’m falling, my heart races, hands reaching out for something, anything, to slow me down. “Constantin,” a woman’s voice whispers next to my ear, it would sound sultry and sweet if not for the sharp annoyance at the edge of her words, “you can’t hide forever from me.” I shut my eyes, willing myself to wake up, the voice not letting up in whispering my name. There’s a little familiarity to it, but I can’t place it as I keep hoping to reach some kind of ground, the impact would surely wake me from this, now, nightmare. Red eyes reach past my eyelids, the fire in them clear, her voice certain and filled with that faux sweetness, “I’ll find you. Maybe not today but I’ll find you soon enough.”

I hit the sofa, gasping while I bolt right back up, her laugh a whispering echo in my ear for a heartbeat more before it's gone and Coltrane the only thing I can hear again. I can’t catch my breath, my hand gripping my chest, heart beating faster than I can ever remember, the room is closing in. My heart won’t stop racing, I’m going to fall, there’s not enough air. Not enough air. Not enough space. Things are closing in. Something’s wrong. I can’t figure out what. I have to stop shaking. Everything needs to stop spinning. The record’s warped, the notes are out of place. I know they are. I need to find an out. I need to breathe. When did it become so hard to breathe?

There’s a shrill ring over taking.

Loud, too loud. I need to make it stop. Need the quiet. I need it quiet to all stop. It’s all still spinning, legs shaking, I can’t even look at the screen. I can’t even get the simple word of hello out as I answer. “Constantin,” her voice is soothing, softened after so many years, “Constantin, honey, what’s wrong?” I’m younger, or at least my voice sounds childlike as I can tell I’m mumbling what’s wrong in my mother tongue, “Oh, mica mea grădină,” I can almost feel my mom’s arms around me. I can’t remember going to the ground, rocking back and forth, head between my knees. 

“Here focus on me, Grădină,” it feels like a strangled scream comes out at her nickname for me. Her voice is slow, steady, the perfect volume, “Hai Luluțu, dormi un picu. Dragul mamei, puiuț micu.” I know the words….the melody….it’s a lullaby. One she’s sung to me since I could remember, “Oare când oi fii voinicu. Să n-am grijă, de nimicu. Haida nani nani,” I can hear the way her voice is coaxing mine to join in through the sobs. I’m trying to take breaths as slow as I can, the near muscle memory wanting to take over. She keeps going and finally I can start to make out the carpet below me and the black coffee table in front of me, “Puișorul mamii. Domi in leganuț. Puișor draguț, luna și cu stealli.”

She holds the last word, my voice meeting hers with the first real words I can process myself saying, “Să-ți păzească viselii. Să-ți mângâie genialii.” Slowly I feel the tension in my body release as I continue to sing with her. The rocking stops, sobbing ceases, and soon I am able to breathe once more. “I’m sorry mama,” the first words out of my mouth as I wipe at my face, feeling a headache coming on.

“Grădina mea,” she says softly, soothing the slowing of my heart finally, “There’s never a need to be sorry.” She lets out a breath, I can see the wrinkle in her forehead she always got when she worried over me, “What got you so spooked Constantin?” I open my mouth to answer before she cuts me off, “And don’t go saying it's nothing. I’m your mother, I want to help you.”

I close my eyes, shaking my head, “It’s just a nightmare, mama, I must be working too much is all.”

“Maybe it's time for you to come home and quit this new job of yours,” I can hear the undertones of annoyance. She hadn’t been happy with this job since I told her I couldn’t visit more than once or twice a year if I was lucky. “This whole thing has just gotten worse and I’m worried about you.”

“What if I video chatted with you a little more,” I suggest getting up from the floor finally, turning down the music, “Would that make you a little happier?”

“No,” I smile at the quickness of her answer, “It’s not the same.”

“I know but it’s better than nothing.”

“What happened to that girl you used to talk about?” I stiffen, eyes shifting looking for cameras that aren’t there, “You didn’t have trouble sleeping then. Did you break up?”

“Mom,” I groan, “I haven’t dated while I’ve been out here, you know that.”

“Firstly you should,” I roll my eyes, “You not having the time is more proof that you need to be back home. Secondly, I think she had something to do with this ‘increase in work stress’. Or did you forget that this was the second time I’ve caught you in a panic attack?”

Was it the second time? I didn’t think so, that couldn’t have been right, “This is the first time mom, the other time you probably just caught me at a bad time.”

“Constantin,” she paused before letting out a slow breath, mom was done trying to worm her way through my lies, “I’m always here for you, you know that right?” 

I nod, “Yeah, I know you are mama. I love you for it.”

“I love you too,” she was quiet a moment before letting out a small gasp, “Oh, my package. You got that right?” It’s still sitting on the kitchen counter, it came in three days ago, “I put some tea in there for you. It should help you sleep.” I rest the phone between my ear and shoulder, tearing open the box, “I also put some cookies and jam in there for you. All your favorites.” 

It's nice to hear the smile in her voice again, I can’t help but meet it with my own as I look through everything, “Thanks mama,” I pull out the jar of tea, feeling the low hum of power they emanate, “I should be going to bed here soon.”

“Okay mica mea grădină,” I hear the faint sound of a bell, she hadn’t even left the shop yet and I was working too hard, “Sleep well, honey. I’ll talk to you soon. I love you.”

“Love you too mama,” I hang up after that, filling the automated teapot with water setting it to the correct temperature of her chamomile tea. I never had to worry about making the tea sweeter with mom’s recipe, the chunks of sugar being what imbued the tea with its magic. Sure chamomile already helped in relaxation but some needed more help and sleeping pills could be addictive, not mom’s tea though. She really must have been worried about me to have sent some, she was right too though, not that I’d ever tell her that.

It was about six months ago that I started to get a feeling as if I was being watched. Sleep was harder to have as I would wake to something echoing in my ears while I felt like I was in a fog. I brushed it off as worry for Tia’s safety due to her radio silence, now though….there was something about the dream that felt too real. It was coated in magic, it had to have been, I couldn’t tell what kind but I could tell they needed more time for something. The woman said she would find me….I just couldn’t place who would be looking for me after all this time.

One came to mind but there was no way they could have been looking for us after all this time, those were just random attacks. I shook the thoughts from my head as I filled a mug making my way to the bedroom flipping the tv on, the theme to Dateline playing. Three days, three days and I’d be seeing Tia again. I should bring her some of the cookies….then again, mama made them special for me.

[akimmito]

Heroes are made by the path they choose

Previous | AO3 | Next

--------------

Chapter 8

Marinette is sitting on a bench, phone in hand, dark glasses and a black coat; she remembers several years ago when she was in this same place meeting with Marianne. Now she's back, but not to recall memories of her embarrassing adolescence. No, she's in that place for business, the place is solitary enough for a meeting without attracting too much attention, especially if it's information that she doesn't want anyone to hear.

"What's so important?" She speaks when a person sits next to her, she doesn't need to see him to know who he's, after all, there is only someone who should be there at that moment and in that place. She made sure that it was, a little magic to persuade people not to pass.

"I heard that a demon wants to get one of your jewels in Turkey, I'm not sure of his motives, but an angel was bothering me to do something. You should talk more to them. "

"Yeah, because it's very normal to befriend angels. The casual Friday of every human. "

"You would be surprised, they're a lot of fun… until they harass you relentlessly, they can be very annoying when they want. "

"That's my point." She smiles and takes off her dark glasses at the same time as he does. "What else do you know? You wouldn't ask for a meeting just to tell me that, knowing how much you run away from relationships and human interaction in general. "

"Well, darling, it's always a pleasure to see you. Any gathering is worth enjoying your figure. ”Marinette laughs and prepares for whatever she will say next. "The Shadow League searches for their heir. They called hell and found out that the boy was not there, Ra’s was willing to make a deal to retrieve his body and bring him back to the Lazarus Pits. It's only a matter of time for they to locate him, you must be careful. "

"Ra’s doesn't like to be betrayed." she murmurs. "How did you get the information?"

"A lovely encounter with a demon and one of those assassins, the poor man I was trying to protect, all wanted him very dead. The demon didn't kill him, but there was nothing I could do against a murderer like that, I barely made it out alive and now I have a new beautiful scar on my leg. "

"One day like any other, you're a lucky man."

"Since that night it only increased, I must thank you." He leans toward her with a smile.

"Do you want to go for a drink? To thanks for the information. ”She smiles back. The two get up immediately and begin to walk the streets of Paris, Marinette makes sure that a glamor covers them both to avoid being bothered. She grabs his left arm and he leans into her to whisper in her ear, tickling her skin where his breath hits.She laughs "Now, what has become of your life, John Constantine?"

----------------

Cooper @ KCoopL98

It is a wonderful day, nothing can ruin it. Not even you, damn butterfly!

Alix @LostHeroBunnix

The more mysterious you are @MariLenoir, the more curiosity you generate in us.

Chloe B. @BourgeoisQueen

@LostHeroBunnix, right?!

Adrien A. @AdrienAgreste

@LostHeroBunnix @BourgeoisQueen I saw her walking to the Sena, wearing a black coat and putting on sunglasses. Very suspicious.

Epic Kim @Epic_OrginalChampions

@LostHeroBunnix @BourgeoisQueen @AdrienAgtreste What if she has a secret lover? With the demon boy she has for a son, I would sneak out too.

Damian @DamianLenoir

@LostHeroBunnix @BourgeoisQueen @AdrienAgreste @Epic_OriginalChampions Mother has no secret boyfriend or lover. Imagination must be a nice place, but get out of there.

Epic Kim @Epic_OriginalChampions

@LostHeroBunnix @BourgeoisQueen @AdrienAgreste @DamianLenoir Look at him, poor baby, he's in denial.

Damian @DamianLenoir

@LostHeroBunnix @BourgeoisQueen @AdrienAgreste @Epic_OriginalChampions Denial is what you'll feel when they tell you that you'll not be able to swim in a year.

Alix @LostHeroBunnix

@BourgeoisQueen @AdrienAgreste @Epic_OriginalChampions @DamianLenoir How much violence, please, I want to be present when it happens

Felix @GarahamV_Felix

@LostHeroBunnix @BourgeoisQueen @AdrienAgreste @Epic_OriginalChampions Why do we need tabloid newspapers? You do a great job, guys. If you're going to speculate nonsense, do it via text message. Uselesses.

----------

Marinette returns to the country house when dinner is over, only to be greeted by Damian as soon as she opens the door. The boy looks incredibly threatening with his arms crossed and a suspicious look, she has returned too late.

"Where did you go, mother? I can smell the smell of alcohol and it's barely 9 pm, you must have left Paris two hours ago, too early to be drinking. ”He frowns more, looking her up and down, noting the differences in her outfit since he saw her leave, realizing that the black stockings are missing.

"I just went for a walk and stopped at a bar." All right, she shouldn't be so intimidated by her son, but Damian does it very successfully. In her defense, he was trained to be a killing machine, he knows very well how to stand and look to achieve that effect.

"Alone?"

"Uh, well..."Marinette is just a little drunk, so that helps the questioning go so well for the boy.

"Because you don't bring your stockings, I can also smell a cigar aroma and I know that you don't like nicotine, you are disheveled and you have a mark on your neck. "Damian is hurt to list everything he can notice, he didn't even try to further hide the evidence. He really hates Kim, especially because he was right.

"He's a... friend..." She doubts, actually, she doesn't have the slightest idea of her relationship with him. Adventure of one... two, no, three... yes, three nights, maybe?

Is he so bad that his mother must hide her partner from him? He's not going to bite him, just a subtle threat with a knife, nothing too so bad.

"Mother, you don't have to while. If he hurts you, I will mutilate it, but if you agree… ”The rest is not understood because he's said in grunts and, for less understanding, in Arabic.

"He's a friend, Damian. I met him four years ago while investigating a series of murders that ended up being the victims of sacrifice for a cult that spread to various regions of Europe. "The boy heeds his words, he did not think she was going to tell him about his friend, like if I really believed it was just that. When she passes him, the smell of cigarettes is much stronger, reinforcing the idea that it was not quality time for friends. "We started investigating it and he took us to Liverpool, where I met him. I was investigating the case with Felix, but seeing the circles and rituals performed, I diverted it in another direction while I followed the correct leads, I had the feeling that I would end up facing something darker than just a cult."

"And you met him." He sits down on the couch across from her, Marinette takes off her slippers and sets them aside. She thinks for a moment before continuing.

"Yeah, he was also investigating. These people seemed to want to carry out a demonic summoning ritual, I didn't know their real motives for this, but I wasn't going to wait for them to succeed… unfortunately they were successful the night we faced them, Azrael, nice meeting. "Damian barely flinches at his sarcasm. "You can't imagine the problems we had in sending him back to hell, all while Plagg was laughing at us. "

"In my defense, I knew you would win." The little god comes out of Marinette's coat. "And next time you meet the alcoholic guy, don't take me. Unless you want to face another demon or angel, you are fun when you do. "

Marinette sighs, of course the Kwami of Destruction would love the amount of chaos those beings generate.

"Whatever, we met several times later. He seemed intrigued by Plagg and the fact of my magic is very different from anything he had seen."

"Tell him when a possessed woman attacked you in a bar! It was fun. ”Plagg laughs as he remembers it, all the chaos it caused in the few minutes she was there. He loved it, it was a great day.

"I didn't know you were involved in that kind of thing." He admits, it's something he never thought would be related to his mother, as kind as she's, no one would ever imagine.

"Sometimes, but they are only favors for him. I prefer not to get into such situations, they are always prone to end in a real disaster. "She sighs looking at his hands.

"It's so much fun." Plagg laughs as Marinette shakes her head.

"Yeah, we know chaos amuses you." She smiles wearily and gets up. "I'll go to sleep... Damian, I love you so much."

Damian just watches her go after saying those words to him, he didn't expect her to say that to him. He knows that she loves him and he wants her back, that's why he tries so hard to always look presentable when they go out and not cause any problems, he doesn't want his reputation to be ruined because of him and for that reason she'll no longer wants him by his side. It would be terrible.

And that's why he doesn't like the people who approach her, what if they don't like him? What if they demand that his mother get rid of him? What if she gets a partner who doesn't want him around? He will couldn't accept it.

Seeing Talia three nights ago still haunts him, even though it was just an illusion created by the Akuma. When he thinks about the League he only feels two things, fear that he will be taken away from his mother and fury at what they did to him.

If he ever returns to the League of Assassins, it will be to exterminate them all.

-----------

Tim Drake @TimDrakeW_

The only good thing about going to Paris is that I already have an appointment with Marie Lenoir for a suit. Thanks @OliverQueen!

Roy @RoyHarperQ

@TimDrakeW_ You failed to thank me? I was the one who felt sorry for you because Dick is dragging you to Paris with him.

Jason @IAmYisus_XD

@TimDrakeW_ @RoyHarperQ He turns off notifications for his posts, he won't tell you anything.

Dick Grayson @TheFlyingGrayson

Tomorrow we arrived in Paris, the last time I visited the city I was six years old and still in the Circus. I have a whole tourist route to follow!

[alecmagnuslwb]

This Type of Love Isn’t Rational

Read on AO3

When the magical stone her father gave her glows bright she knows she’s in for it. He’s been supportive more or less since she left home on her nineteenth birthday to figure out who Zatanna was when she wasn’t just known as the daughter of the great Zatara.

He doesn’t call often, just an occasional check in, but more often than not he hears enough from his many contacts to know she’s alright which satisfies him. If he’s calling now it’s because he’s heard all about her new companion and he’s likely not happy.

But then again most people wouldn’t be all that happy to learn their child is running around with the likes of John Constantine.

“Ekam em elbatneserp,” she says waving a hand down her body and adjusting herself on the bed. In one magical wave she’s dressed in a t-shirt and dark comfortable pants, her messy hair now a neat ponytail on her head, she looks like she’s getting ready for bed not like she just had John’s face buried between her thighs for an excruciatingly beautiful amount of time.

“Hey, dad!” she says bright and chipper as she touches the sigil on the stone her father’s image coming to life in front of her swathed in sparkling blue magic.

“Hello, Zatanna,” he says with a grimace. Yup, he definitely knows about John. For a few minutes though he keeps the small talk just that, small, asking about her recent shows and how she’s doing with keeping up on her magical studies and then he steers the conversation exactly where she knew it was going.

“So I hear you’ve been running with a Mr. Constantine,” he says leadingly, it’s funny to hear someone refer to John as Mr. Constantine usually it’s just Constantine or extremely colorful insults when he’s referred to.

Zatanna takes a deep breath, her dad won’t outright say he doesn’t approve based upon what he’s most likely heard about Constantine, but he no doubt wants her to admit she’s dating a criminal.

Which technically she is. John isn’t what Zatanna expected. She’d been on her own for nearly three years by the time she ran into him. She could feel his magic from across the room and despite the cocky grin and the obvious fact he only had one thing on his mind as he looked her up and down she got closer.

She didn’t go home with him that night, but before the week was out they were sleeping in the same bed more often than not and she was quickly more than aware of who he was and how he operated.

John doesn’t play by any rules. He does magic the way he wants and he lives the way he wants. If that means swindling people out of money, magic and on one memorable occasion the entire house of mystery, which he proceeded to lose in a poker game months later, he doesn’t mind.

Zatanna may not directly participate in his more illegal choices, but she also doesn’t try to stop him or change him because underneath the con man is a good man who cares and wants to help a lot more than he’d ever willingly say out loud to anyone, even to her. She knows though, she sees the man underneath it all.  

But she’s not stupid either, realistically this could all blow up in her face one day and she gets that. For all intents and purposes John is what people would call a bad boy with a tainted heart, but she’s irrevocably in love with him anyway.

Most people can’t fathom what she sees him, she’s very much certain her father will also be on that list.

“I am,” Zatanna says hearing the shower shut off. She hopes to move this conversation along quickly as to not have her father get more than eyeful of John. “Why do you ask?”

Her father pauses pensive, clearly carefully choosing his words to not anger her before he even gets to make the point he wants to make.  

“Well, I was thinking it’s been a while since you’ve been home and if this…young man is important to you that you could bring him along and we could meet,” he says diplomatically.

Zatanna squints her eyes knowing this is a bad idea, a colossal mistake, she can tell from the tone of his voice her father already has an opinion about John that any sort of dinner won’t change his mind and will no doubt be a disaster.

However, she kind of loves the idea of the mayhem. Being with John has really brought out some of the more diabolical bits in her.

The bathroom door starts to open and Zatanna rushes her father away.

“Sounds great, dad, how about we come by for dinner on Friday?”  she rushes out just as John steps out with not so much as a small towel on. Her father barely gets to nod his head in agreement before she’s saying her goodbyes and shutting the call down.

“Who are we havin’ dinner with Friday?” John asks as she tosses the stone onto the nightstand. He grabs his cigarettes and lights one before flopping back on the bed next to her.

“My father,” she says glumly falling back on the bed as well.

John chuckles and takes a quick drag before tilting his head to the side to look at her.

“I’ll put on my best suit,” he says with a cheeky grin. Zatanna rolls her eyes as far as she can tell John only owns one suit that he just keeps washing the blood out of and continuing on. This dinner is most definitely going to be a shitshow.

***

“My dad is going to hate you; you know that right?” Zatanna says as they make their way to the front door that Friday.

“Why’s that?” John says with a sly grin. “Is it because I’m a two-bit con man who smokes too much and has a questionable criminal history and magical record?” he continues cheekily coming to stop on the top step leading to the door.

He attempts to adjust his tie, cigarette still hanging loosely from his lips as he raises a hand about to knock before Zatanna pulls it down and turns him to face her. She moves her hands up to his neck fixing his tie properly and buttoning up the open buttons of white his shirt, a real opposite to how she usually gets when her hands are on that red tie of his.

“That’s exactly why,” she says with a smirk of her own patting John’s tie once it’s evenly placed. She reaches up and plucks the cigarette from his still smirking lips. She takes a calming drag before flicking it into a puddle she narrowly avoided moments before at the bottom of the stairs.

She hasn’t exactly picked up John’s favorite bad habit on the regular, or this one at least, but she’ll be damned if the smell of his particular brand and the burn of it on her lips doesn’t have the keen ability to soothe the edges of her nerves from time to time. It’s all his damn fault, bastard she loves and his shitty habit she hates that she loves.

Her father opens the door before she can even knock a big greeting smile on his face, he pulls her in for a tight embrace before focusing his attention on John. The handshake they share is so tense she’s certain it’s all going to go off the rails immediately before they can so much as pick up a single fork.

But much to her absolute shock her father is well behaved in the moment, introducing himself politely and then all through appetizers and the main course he keeps that same bright attitude. Half of the smiles are as fake as they can get and he’s clearly trying to goad John into slipping up and play into every rumor he’s ever heard about him, but no fights break out which she calls a win.

John plays the picture-perfect boyfriend, he’s a good con man for a reason, so much so that Zatanna has to hold in her laughter at how corny he’s being. Her father’s almost buying it, that’s how good he is at this.

Dessert is when it all falls apart.

“Zatanna could I speak to you in the study,” her father says gesturing to the door from the dining room they’re in that connects to his office, a room she once used to admire in wonder that she’s now dreading.

She nods as her father stands up from the table and heads for the double doors. John makes a teasing face like a child watching their friend be called into the principal’s office at her and she reaches out shoving a hand through his and yanking it back playfully before turning to follow her father.

He wastes no time getting started once he shuts the doors behind them.

“Do you know what kind of man you’ve taken up with?” he says none to quietly. There’s no way John can’t hear them. Usually this room would have some sort of silencing spell on it, but she can tell from the lack of magic in the walls that there aren’t any today. Her dad wants John to hear that he isn’t good enough for his daughter.

“I’m well aware,” she says frustrated even if she saw this coming.

“The things I’ve heard about him from very trusted sources are abominable. The dealings he’s made, the magic he’s tampered with,” her father says pacing the room back and forth getting louder by the second. “He’s a thief and con man at best, a monster at worst and neither of those options are good!”

He goes on for a few more minutes throwing out any number of words about John and about her poor judgement. She tunes him out letting him get it all out of his system before she interrupts.

“Hguone!” she shouts and her father goes silent. “You don’t need to tell me who the man I’ve been with for nearly a year is, I’m aware he’s not exactly some golden boy, but I don’t care. I know him better than you could ever know him from just rumors and stories.” She says loudly then lowers her voice so John doesn’t hear the next part. “I know that maybe one day I’ll have made a bad call here, but so far all he’s done is trust me and love me, so I can take the rest as it comes.”

She takes a deep breath before making her finally point, voice deadly calm.  

“You’re right about one thing he is a criminal, and guess what dad? I love him and that’s not changing anytime soon. When you have accepted that or at least trusted your own daughters’ judgement on who she’s sleeping with, we’ll come back by for a more peaceful dinner, but for now we’re leaving.”

She finishes with a turn her coattails spinning out behind her as she opens the double doors. John is already sitting there on the table waiting for her tie loose and buttons undone once again, an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips and a plate with four generously sized pieces of chocolate cake on it in his hand.

“Figured we’re having dessert to go,” he says with a wink when he spots her eyeing the plate.

He holds out his free hand and hops off the table. “Shall we, luv?”

She grabs two forks from the table as she walks towards him tossing one last glance back at her father who looks so disappointed as she grabs John’s hand and pulls him to the front door.

Yeah, one day this may all blow up in her face, one day her father may get to say I told you so, but for today she’s going to enjoy the ride with this devil of a man she’s fallen for.

[axwalker]

The Trade 7

Synopsis:  Liam is running for Cordonia’s presidency. To assure his victory, Constantine makes an arraignment behind his back for him to marry the rich ambassador’s daughter: Alexis O’Brien. Due to her father’s threats, she has no other option that seduce Liam and make him fall in love with her. But what does she really feel? (AU)

Pairings: LiamxMC DrakexMC

Warnings: I love drama and chaos so this will probably get a bit dark. In this chapter there is mention of rape, if you get triggered by this issue, don’t hesitate to send me a message and I’ll be glad to explain what happens without reading it.

Please note that this is my first series and English is not my first language. I really love ALL kinds of feedback.  Don’t hesitate to comment!

Disclaimer: Some of the dialogues and settings as well as most of the characters belong to Pixelberry (except for Alexis O’Brien and her evil father George O’Brien). I also used a line from Grey’s Anatomy that really made me think about Drake.

To catch up: Masterlist

Thanks to @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld​ for being my incredible beta reader and always being there to answer my questions and her support,  to  @burnsoslow​ for helping with the first part of this episode, it was very difficult to write. and to  @mskaneko​  for the beautiful edit of Drake and Alexis in the mood-board  (I can’t stop looking at it) ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

I'm only tagging those who asked if you want to be tagged, I will be happy to add you to the list

@mskaneko​ @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld​ @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore​ @burnsoslow​ @pug-bitch​ @pedudley​ @msjr0119​ @lauzales​ @yukinagato2012​ @kingliam2019​ @texaskitten30​ @desiree-0816​

The debutant’s ball was all Sienna O’Brien could think about. She adored her granddaughter and was absolutely proud to present her to her high society friends. Alexis was a smart, poised and beautiful young woman; Sienna couldn’t understand why her son had been adamant to send her to that French boarding school. The old woman admired how the sunny fifteen-year-old girl managed to make everyone around her happy. It was a miracle considering her father’s coldness and her mother’s inattention. Sienna knew that deep down, Elena loved her daughter but after years of living with George, she had become a ghost of herself, always drunk or heavily medicated. It all broke her heart, so when George took some interest in Alexis’ date to the ball, the old woman felt almost happy thinking that her son might love his daughter after all. They had finally agreed that she was going to be escorted by Bradford Davenport III, the son of a wealthy and renowned businessman. Alexis couldn’t believe her luck, Brad was extremely handsome and, even if she didn’t go to his school, she knew he was the most popular boy there; that all the girls at the cotillion wanted to be escorted by him. According to her grandmother, he was a true gentleman; the heir of a very good family. Even her father was pleased with the choice. The young girl had learned a long time ago not to seek his approval, but she was thrilled to get it when she could. As the date of the ball approached, Alexis was so excited about it that she had tried her white gown a hundred times and rehearsed more different hairstyles that she would ever admit. She felt like a princess.

Finally, the day had arrived. It had started as a dream. Brad was certainly good-looking and could dance perfectly, spinning her all over the dancefloor while he made her laugh. He took care of her, making sure she always had something to drink and he didn’t leave her side for a second. The adults left the ball early so he promised her father that he would drive her before 1 o’clock. Alexis was feeling too drunk, so she asked him to take her home at midnight. They hopped in the backseat of the car, so she could recover a little before getting back. Brad gave her a soft kiss that made Alexis feel like she was floating. Emboldened by her response he kissed her again, harder this time. Then he went further and grabbed her by her waist knowing that she was almost out of it after all the alcohol he had given her. Brad was convinced that she desired it as much as he did. After a few seconds of kissing her she started to resist him, she didn’t want this, her first time had to be special, not in the backseat of a car. Alexis could smell the alcohol in his breath, feel his sweat, and his hands everywhere. She tried to fight against him, but she wasn’t a match for him. He didn’t want to listen to her cries or see her tears. He ripped her dress and after he took what he wanted, he drove her home."

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Alexis had woken up happy and excited. The moment she had spent with Drake gazing the stars had been incredible. He was all she had imagined, behind that brooding and strong façade hid a sensitive man and she couldn’t deny any longer the indescribable power he had over her. She shivered remembering his touch when he held her hand and the warmth emanating from his body when he had hugged her after she had almost fallen.

It had been the first time in her life that she had felt completely safe.

Suddenly, she thought about Liam, and a pang of overwhelming guilt replaced the excitement. Alexis knew what a good man he was, but now she was sure she would never love him back. Maybe Liam’s interest in her was simple infatuation, but she didn’t want to make him suffer. The seed of a solution started to grow in her mind, it was a long shot but maybe if she asked him for help, he would do it. She would have to arrange a meeting and make him understand that it was in his own son’s best interest.

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Constantine decided to wait for George’s daughter in the breakfast room.

“Good Morning, Alexis.” He smiled politely pointing to the seat across the table so she’d sit. “How can I help you?”

“I need to ask you for something” She didn’t have the energy to be polite anymore. “It’s not for me, it’s for your own son, but maybe this is not the best place to talk.” She paused looking around her

“Don’t worry, the staff won’t bother us. I ordered them to leave us alone when you called.”

“I wanted to talk about Liam, about what you and my father are trying to make me do to him.” She sighed trying to compose herself. “Please Constantine, think about your son. He’s an amazing man, he deserves a woman who loves him. I’m not, or never will be, that woman.” She stopped talking to gauge his reaction. “I know you made a deal with my father but I’m sure you can continue without me. If you tell him you don’t need me, he will let me go-”

He interrupted her smirking “Oh, but I do need you, Alexis. First, because as you can see the press is already starting to associate the two of you as a couple.” He showed her the paper he was reading with pictures of her and Liam at the Masquerade ball and paparazzi’s photos of their date at the Mexican restaurant. “That was brilliant by the way, taking him to such a poor place, they’re presenting him as the people’s candidate.” She rolled her eyes as he continued, “but I’m digressing. I also need you as a guarantee that your father will complete his part of the bargain.”

She couldn’t help but snicker at him. “If you are thinking to use me as leverage, you’re sorely mistaken, Constantine. You can be sure, that if my father thinks is in his best interest to throw me under a bus, he would be driving that bus himself. Having me does not give you any advantage.”

“I’m not going to discuss this any further with you. If you’re having doubts about my son because is too soon just give it time” He stood behind Alexis putting his hands on her bare shoulders. She shuddered at the contact. “However, if it’s because there’s someone else, that could be dangerous for everyone involved. I hope you fully understand me.”

She realized how stupid she had been to believe Constantine would help her. “Yes, I do. Perfectly.” After that, she left the room, leaving the ex-president alone. He picked up the phone and called his associate number.

“George, we have a problem. I need you to control your daughter”

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Since he had met Alexis O’Brien, Liam had been feeling like a 15-year-old teenager again. He couldn’t stop thinking about her day and night, and he was really excited to start working with her on the campaign. He had read all the articles she had wrote and they had fascinated him even more.

With his heart threatening to go out of his chest, he heard the soft knock on the door and opened it.

“Hi Alexis, please, come on in.”

“Thanks, Liam.” She sat in the chair across from him. “Are you ready for me to pick your brain?”

He smiled gently “Of course. What do you need?”

She ran her hand through her hair “Well, I’d like to know more about your motivations as a candidate, about what drives you. A good speech has to reflect your personality above everything else. If it feels fake, you’ll lose the public’s trust immediately.”

“Yes, of course. Let’s see, when we met, I told you that it wasn’t until I became senator that I truly understood the value of politics” She nodded “For the campaign, I had to visit all these neighborhoods that I didn’t even know existed before. I had the chance to see real people facing problems that were completely alien to me” He sighed “There was this school we visited. There were 45 children in a class with only one teacher, and the conditions weren’t the best either: no computers, the state of the desks and chairs were deplorable, the teachers seemed completely overwhelmed by the whole situation. They were teaching, but they didn’t believe they could actually help these kids anymore” He paused again thinking “Here I was, this privileged man thinking he was living in a great country, one that gave everyone the same opportunities to go far in life, but actually ignoring everything about the people he wanted to rule. That day was the day I knew I wanted to make a change. Starting with the reform of the education’s program of Cordonia”

Alexis looked at him impressed. His passion was contagious, he had a real desire to make things better, to help others, and to improve his country. He would be an outstanding president.

“Let’s start with the anecdote and then we will move forward to explaining your education reform.” She smiled.

After a few hours exchanging ideas, they had finally written a speech draft they were equally satisfied with. They were both tired, but Liam didn’t want their time together to end so fast.

“How about we take a break before the ball?” He stood up and walk around the desk to sit on it, in front of Alexis’ chair.

Remembering the earlier conversation with Constantine, she answered trying to seem joyful “Sure! What do you have in mind?”

“There’s this amazing terrace in my room, maybe we can have a few drinks there, the view is incredible.”

Alexis' eyebrows almost touched her scalp. “Your room?”

“Hey, I’m a gentleman” He winked. “If you want me to be one of course.”

She let out a hearty laugh that almost made his heart stop. “Aren’t you smooth?” She sighed amused “Let’s go have that drink.”

Liam smiled relieved “Just give me five minutes, I have to make a call.”

Fifteen minutes later, they entered the room to access the terrace. It was magnificent. The beautiful panoramic was breathtaking, they could see the huge snowy Lythiko’s mountains, the shimmering lake that surrounded Olivia’s property, the hundreds of pines that seemed to have been planted in the snow, the wooden cabins all around the place. It felt like a Christmas fairytale. And the terrace was incredible too. Awfully sunny even in the wintery day, spacious, and luxuriously decorated. It had an outdoor couch full of beautiful cushions, and the small table in front of it was set with a rose’s bouquet, some candles, and a bucket containing a freezing bottle of champagne.

Alexis was in awe at the view. “Wow, Li. It is amazing”

“Beautiful, isn’t it? Now you see why I wanted to share it with someone.” He stood close to her, brushing her hand with his thumb

“And all of this?” She pointed at the table “You were with me the whole time”

“I have my ways,” he said grinning “and I wanted this to be magical for us”

They sat on the couch.

“You didn’t tell me if you liked it” He was looking softly at her

“Liam…” Touched by the gesture, she wasn’t sure how to answer “It’s very nice. I love red roses”

“I have to be honest with you Alexis. I’ve never really had someone I wanted so badly to please. I feel like I would do anything to make you smile and know that I am the cause”

Another pang of guilt in Alexis’ chest almost made her jump “Liam…”

He blushed “Ahem, anyway, what if we open this bottle of champagne”

After uncorking it and pouring two glasses, they toasted.

“To a great life” He clinked her glass without taking his eyes off her.

“To a great life” She repeated smiling and drank “This is so good Liam; I love it”

“There are few things better in life than a good bottle of champagne shared in good company” He took one of Alexis’ hands and kissed her palm “Alexis, I feel like I’ve been waiting for this moment the entire trip”

She smiled at him, unsure of how to behave, torn between her task of making him love her and her reluctance to hurt him.

Liam put his drink at the table and turned to watch her “You make me want so many things, things I never wanted before. I want to be careful with you, I’d hate to hurt you in any way”

“Don’t worry about me, Liam. I will be fine. I know what I’m getting myself into. Besides, you’re the model of a good person” Even if she was certain that her heart wasn’t hers to give anymore, she sincerely liked him and knew that if she hadn’t met Drake before, she would have fallen for Liam.

He caressed her cheek “If I’m not, I hope I will be, for you. You inspire me to be a better man”

He leaned to kiss her when the room’s phone rang.

“Well, if that’s not bad timing” He smiled taking her chin between his fingers “I do not know what is. “Wait here, love”

She waited a while but when it became evident that the call was going to last more than a few minutes, Alexis went into the room and waved her hand to say good-bye. They would see each other at the ball.

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Kiara left her lover’s room as quietly as she could. Even if she was perfectly aware that Rashad couldn’t care less who she was sleeping with, and if It had been months since the last time he had touched her, she couldn’t, and wouldn’t, face the scandal. She had too much to lose.

Rashad was also very careful when he left the room at the end of the hall that afternoon, if Kiara or her family knew who he had been sleeping with, he will lose everything.

They almost crashed into each other in the hall.

“Darling, what are you doing here?” And with last night’s clothes.

Kiara looked angrily at him “I… I don’t want to lie anymore Rashad. If you’re so interested in my life you should come to my bed more often. If you can’t do that, we’ll continue our relationship because that’s what’s best for us, but we will lead separate lives. I’ll go prepare for the ball, we have to arrive together. See you at 7 at my door”

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Olivia was more than content with the result of Max’s and Penelope’s work. With a bit of luck, they would be able to attract the most prominent men in Lythikos and make them contribute to Liam’s campaign. She sighed when she saw Drake arriving without a bow tie.

“God Walker! Couldn’t you make a fucking effort and dress properly for this?” She rolled her eyes, giving him his accustomed glass of whiskey “If he wins, you’re going to be the new Chief of staff”

Drake chuckled “Ha! If Liam chose me for my fashion sense, he’s gonna be in a lot of trouble”

“I think it will always be a mystery for all of us why he chose you,” she answered teasingly. “By the way, as you can’t behave like an adult around that toad Neville, and Kiara bores you to death, I seated you with Hana Lee and the new ‘speechwriter’” She almost spits the last word

“I can tell you really like her, Livvie” He smirked at her and then added more seriously “Be careful with her though” he looked pointedly at her “she’s…not bad”

Her eyes narrowed to slits “Why are you protecting her? And what have I told you about calling me that?” She arched her brows “Do you want everyone to know your nickname? Little marsh-“

“Shut up, Olivia. I’ll go find my seat” He watched her knowingly and pointed his index at her “And you better behave”

Drake was nervous to see Alexis again but with Hana acting as an unknowing buffer, the diner had gone smoothly. After it, the girls had stood up to dance, so he moved to his favorite spot at the bar and watched the dancefloor, his eyes irremediably going to her. He wasn’t disappointed at the sight; she was dancing like a goddess in Maxwell’s arms. Iit made his heart swell to see her smiling and laughing freely. Sometimes he got the feeling that there was something haunting her; some dark secret that prevented her from being truly happy.

He saw his best friend take a stool next to him, then look around the dance floor until he found her too. The goofy smile on his face while he watched her move let no doubt about Liam’s feelings. The waiter gave Liam a glass of scotch that he downed in one gulp.

“I’m falling hard for that woman,” he told Drake, nodding in Alexis' direction.

Drake’s heart literally stopped at Liam’s words, in almost 23 years of friendship, it was the first time Drake wanted the same thing that Liam did.

He sighed before answering “I know”

“Do you think she feels the same?” Liam smiled sheepishly

Drake knew that any other woman in Cordonia would have fallen instantly in love with the rich and promising candidate but he wasn’t so sure about O’Brien.  In all the moments they had shared together, even the one where she had rejected him, he had felt something strong brewing between them, something he couldn’t quite define.

He exhaled. “I have no idea, Liam. I think she’s very closed-off.” Then remembering that morning’s newspaper, he added unhappily, “but she seemed to be having fun with you in those pictures.”

“Yes, my father had us followed. I was very angry at first but as he pointed out, it all turned out well.”

Drake growled. “What do you mean it turned out well? They followed you, took pictures of you… of her, of a private moment. Doesn’t it drive you crazy that your father is trying to use Alexis like that? Like she’s a pretty object that he can use for your advantage?” Drake knew he had sounded angrier than he had intended.

Liam stared at his best friend coolly. “I don’t understand why are you angry Drake; you know perfectly how a campaign works. You know I was trying to find someone to help me boost my image. I would’ve thought you were happy that I found someone that I actually like,” he paused, “that I’m starting to love.”

Drake knew Liam was right, his biggest fear since he had entered the campaign had been to live trapped in a loveless marriage, it looked like he was going to be able to avoid it, and as his best friend, he should be happy about it.

Before answering, Drake allowed himself to look at her one last time “I apologize Li. I’m actually happy for you.” Trying to hide the pain he was inexplicably feeling he stood up patting his friend in the back, “you deserve the best and she seems… incredible.”

“Thanks, Drake, I know you only want what’s best for me.” Liam was grinning again

“Of course, Liam.” Drake felt a sudden urge to breathe fresh air. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Without waiting for Liam’s answer, Drake left the ballroom.  

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Alexis was dancing with Maxwell again, but despite the fact that he was trying to be as joking and chatty as usual she could see that something was tormenting him. It killed Alexis how hard he was trying to hide his misery, so she finally grabbed him by his hand, stole a bottle of champagne from the bar, and took him out of the ballroom into the library.

“Ok Max, you’re gonna tell me exactly what is going on,” She said passing him the bottle after drinking from it.

“What do you mean Lexie? I’m fine, just a little tired. I’m sorry if I’m not a lot of fun tonight, though.”

“Maxwell! You’re under no obligation to be fun and sparkly all the time. And you certainly don’t need to apologize for having a night off. I only brought you here because I thought that you might want to talk to someone.”

Max sighed sadly “Remember when I told you yesterday that I was sort of in a relationship?”

She nodded

“Well... I’m not anymore”

“Aw Max I’m so sorry,” she said hugging him “I remember how happy you were. Are you sure it is final?”

“Actually, is not. I can even bet that he will be calling me tonight to patch things over but,” He took a large sip of champagne, “I don’t think I can take it anymore.”

“What do you mean Max?”

“People see me like this immature boy, but the truth is that I’m proud of myself. I came out when I was sixteen, and I’ve never looked back, but now here I am 12 years later struggling in a relationship with a man that can’t accept himself” he sounded almost angry “I love him but I just can’t do this any longer”

“If you love him and he loves you back, and I can’t imagine him not to” she smiled at him “Maybe you should give him some time. Not all of us are as comfortable with ourselves as you are, Max. If he comes from a more traditional family than yours, then he needs love and support to take that step. I know it’s not fair. How long have you been together?”

“Uh, almost a year” He drank again.

She put her arms around him “Maybe you can give him a deadline, like six more months, a little time to think. If he doesn’t do it, then you’ll probably have to move on; But at least you’ll know that you did everything that you could”

Max nodded pensively “Yes, I’ll talk to him tonight. Thank you, blossom, you’re the best” He hugged her, then offered her his arm “Want to be my lady for the rest of the evening?”

“Go on without me and find him. I’ll take a tour through Lythikos mansion, it seems fascinating”

“Ok, but don’t get lost” He shuddered a little scared “The Nevrakis love secret passages”

She winked at him “Don’t worry. I will”

She started walking, lost in her thoughts until she saw a light at the end of the corridor. She approached it to discover a spiraling staircase. Without thinking it twice, she climbed it down and found a cellar at the end of it. Her heart missed a beat when she saw Drake sitting there, looking at an empty glass.

He looked up when she entered, his heart missing a beat as well. “First the snow and now here, I’m starting to think that you’re stalking me, O’Brien”

“You wish Walker.” She arched her brow smirking “Drinking alone?”

“I needed to get out of that ballroom for a second”

“Yeah, I know the feeling. Can I sit?” She asked, smiling.

-God that smile is going to be the death of me- He moved to let her seat next to him on the floor, immediately drunk with her scent.

“What are you having?”

“Nothing yet. Olivia has a very extensive collection of fine Cordonian wines, nothing here is under a thousand dollars”

“You want to drink Olivia’s wine?” She added playfully “I thought you were more of a whiskey guy, Drake.”

They both looked at each other thinking about the night they had met, an electric tension starting to grow.

Drake broke the stare clearing his throat “Ahem, I brought this bottle of Dalwhinnie, here, taste it” he poured her a glass.

She licked her lips before taking the glass to her mouth savoring the sour smell of the beverage. It took all of Drake’s willpower not to throw the glass away and kiss those full lips until she couldn’t breathe anymore.

“So?” He asked arching a brow, trying to hide his thoughts.

“Delicious.” She gazed at him thoroughly “Care to tell me why did you want to get out? “

There was no way in hell that Drake was going to tell her the real reason “I wanted to be alone in a place where I don’t have to bow and kiss ass for five minutes. It’s fucking exhausting trying to get all those rich bastards to donate to Liam’s campaign.”

“Please Drake, tell me what you really think,” She said playfully.

He snickered and the wrinkles around his eyes made him look so handsome when he smiled that she couldn’t stop herself from carefully putting her hand in his arm, savoring the electricity that immediately passed between them. “Seriously though, if you hate politics so much, why do you stick around?”

He looked at her cautiously, her opinion mattered to him much more than anyone else’s “It must seem ridiculous to you.”

She stared at him. “No, it’s not ridiculous, Drake. I’m just trying to understand why a brilliant man as yourself is wasting his life doing something he so clearly hates.”

“It’s for Liam, it has always been for him. I would’ve left a long time ago, but Liam needs me. Growing with Constantine was especially hard for me and Olivia. My sister was so obedient that he never had to complain about her, and Leo and Liam were his sons. But the old man was very hard on them too. Eventually, Li, Liv and I became very close and we swore we would always protect each other”

Alexis looked at him with piercing eyes, biting her bottom lip, clearly wanting to say something.

He stared at her amused. “I know you’re dying to say something O’Briens. Spill it”

“Well, it seems to me that you and Olivia do all the protecting” When she saw he was about to protest, she added “Don’t get me wrong, Li is a very good and caring man. It’s just that I have the feeling that you were raised to move around him like he was the sun. And now, you’re stuck in that role. But you’re an extraordinary man, handsome, brilliant and funny. He’s not the sun Drake. You are” She blushed to realize she had said much more than she had intended.

Her words melted all of Drake’s resolutions to keep her at arm’s length, he reached her face with his thumb stroking first her cheek, then her nose and mouth, his heart threatening to go out of his chest as he looked her bright eyes and that smile he had learned to adore.

He approached her gently, pulling her to him with his left arm. Suddenly Drake felt her hands around his neck; he heard her breathing accelerate and he smelled her cherry fragrance. He stopped to inhale it and savor every single second. His eyes fixed the mouth that was driving him slowly crazy and kissed a corner of it, making Alexis softly moan, he smiled to himself and kissed the other corner, producing another tender moan. Finally, he couldn’t take it any longer and crashed his mouth with hers, trying to convey everything with a single kiss. He kissed her with all the passion, the desperation, and the pain he was feeling, he kissed her knowing that it would be the last time. After a while, the need for air made them break the kiss, and the spell was broken.

“I’m sorry Drake.” She struggled to breathe normally again. “I don’t know what we were thinking, we can’t do this anymore. “I- I should go.”

He stood up first, giving her his hand to pull her up.

“I know Lexie,” he said softly. “I know we can’t. I just needed one more time” He caressed her face with the back of his hand “Come on, we have to go back to the ball, everyone must be looking for you.”

“You go first, my father is waiting for me at the office Olivia lend him.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

George knew that her daughter’s secret was the only means he had to control her. He had lost all of her respect after that debutant’s ball ten years ago and the truth was, he didn’t care. His daughter only existed to remind him about the worst mistake of his life. As he poured brandy into his old associate’s son glass, he congratulated himself. Calling him had been the right move. After seeing him, Alexis wouldn’t have any other choice, but to do what she was told. 

At 9 pm sharp, his daughter knocked on the door. Alexis entered the office where his father was talking to another man turning his back at her.

“Good evening, Alexis. I called you because there is an old friend of yours visiting Cordonia, and I thought you would enjoy reminiscing; he’ll be staying here with us.”

The man turned and Alexis couldn’t believe her eyes. Even if she was aware that her father didn’t have any limits and that he would do anything to assure her cooperation, she didn’t want to believe he would go that far.

However, there was no denying it. Bradford Davenport, her abuser,  was standing in front of her, his obnoxious hand reaching hers. She jerked away stupefied. The hatred was consuming her entirely. She looked at one then the other contemptuously.

“I will never, hear me, well father. Never sleep under the same roof that this excuse of a human being”

“Always so dramatic. Bradford is an associate and a friend; I couldn’t care less of your little teenage romance”  

Maybe it was the fact that her father has referred to the second most horrible experience of her life as a “teenage romance” but Alexis was so filled with rage that the next thing she knew she was slapping Brad.

His father was furious. “Alexis, apologize, now!”

She turned around slamming the door after her and ran to the garden.

When she was sure that they couldn’t see her any longer, she fell into the grass and the tears started to come. All the old feelings resurfaced: the shame of the next day, the acute pain, nausea, the deep sadness that would become depression, the sensation of being dirty all the time. In a few minutes, the tears had muted into gut-wrenching sobs, until suddenly she felt his presence standing a few inches of her.

“O’Brien?” in two steps he was on his knees next to her caressing her hair  “God! What’s going on?”

As she continued to cry Drake took her in his arms and rocked her. “Oh, Lexie, baby, please tell me what happened”

Suddenly she knew there was only one thing that would make her feel safe again.

“Please, Drake, take me far away from all of this. I just can’t take it. I know I can’t”

Drake looked at the damaged woman before him and his heart broke. He stood up determined.

“Come on, I know where we can go”

[zoey-wades]

Honeymoon (King Liam x MC)

Rating: M (Drug Use, Substance Abuse, Violence, Self-Inflicted Violence)

Characters: Dark!Liam Rys x Dark!Lyra Frasier (MC) x Dark!Drake Walker

Summary: Fresh out of school and trying to figure things out, Lyra Frasier spends her weekdays going to a job she hates and her weekends in a drug fueled haze. And then she meets golden boy Liam. Lyra soon realizes that the violent underbelly of New York City’s elite may be more than she can handle.

Author’s Note: I haven’t updated this thing since uh......last year? I’m bad at making a writing schedule for myself. I think, the way TRR has been going as a series, I just haven’t had the motivation. But when I separate this world from that one, it helps a bit more. 

Honeymoon Series

ooo. Prologue.

oo1. Honeymoon.

oo2. Midnight City.

--x-- 

oo3. C.R.E.A.M. 

It was bad enough that Liam’s father was ill; he also had to be stubborn as fuck.

Liam winced as his ailing father lifted the shaking glass of whiskey to his lips, determined to keep drinking despite what the doctor and his wife told him about the effects on his body. Liam cleared his throat, earning a single passive glance from his father across the desk. 

“Oh come on,” Constantine groaned, licking the droplets of liquor from his chin, “Not you, too. I don’t need anymore shit about what I do in my free time.” 

Unwilling to take advice from those he deemed inexperienced, Constantine was an unwavering force in a world of deeply complicated decisions. Liam patiently rested his folded hands in his lap, training his expression to convey as much stoicism as he could in the given circumstance.

“You don’t seem to understand that this,” he motioned towards the glass, “is the reason why Sebastian Clark was able to fly under your radar for so long? What would’ve happened if Walker and I hadn’t figured him out? Who knows what he could’ve gotten away with--” 

“That rotten, coked out fucker,” Constantine spat with a wave of the hand, “Good riddance. I didn’t need him poisoning my ranks with his bullshit.” 

“That’s what I’m trying to explain,” Liam leaned forward in his seat, speaking slowly to emphasize his next point, “We don’t know that he hasn’t. And the fact that he was in your ranks for as long as he had should be worrisome. Who knows what else is going on that we don’t know about.”

“My men are loyal to me,” Constantine stated plainly, “One bad apple doesn’t always spoil the lot.”

At the age of 67, he’d been away from the action for quite some time. Evidence of a hard youth decorated his face and body in the form of scars and bones that didn’t quite heal correctly. Liam couldn’t remember a time when his father didn’t look tired. If he hadn’t seen a photo of a young Constantine with his own eyes, he’d believe the man just came into this world with a shock of white hair and bloodshot eyes. His stepmother half-joked that Liam’s older brother, Leo, caused their father to gray prematurely with his gambling and sex addictions.

On the other hand, Leo had to get it from somewhere.

Liam watched his father struggle to take another sip from his glass before averting his gaze to a family photo on his father’s desk. Teenage Justin and Liam sat side-by-side, unsmiling, with neatly pressed suits on in front of their equally serious fathers. Why Constantine kept that particular photo on his desk, Liam never understood. Nothing about it exuded warmth. 

“Did Justin ever talk about a girl around you?” Liam suddenly asked, refocusing on his father who swirled his whiskey in deep thought. 

“A girl?” He repeated in thought, “Once or twice. Usually he was asking advice on how to keep them tamed, you know?” 

Constantine attempted a conspiratorial smile that Liam didn’t reciprocate. 

“Did he mention any specific names?” Liam pressed on, “Or descriptors?” 

Constantine raised a brow and sat the sweating glass on a wooden coaster, “What is this about?”

What was this about? Liam wasn’t entirely sure. There was something about the girl, Lyra, that intrigued him. How was she able to dip in and out of their world so easily without leaving any footprints behind? Who did she know? 

After dropping her off back home the previous afternoon, Liam did some quick research into who she was. Aside from a few high school choir competition press reels, she was an otherwise ordinary woman. 

“Well I...” Liam chose his words carefully, “ran into Justin at the bar, talking to a girl. You know we never really see him with anyone. So I was just curious.”

There was a brief pause between the two men, and the grin returned to Constantine’s face, “A hot piece of ass, huh? Thinking of getting in there?” 

Liam said nothing, but fidgeted with the rings on his fingers. His father wasn’t technically wrong. But god damn if the wording didn’t make him feel like the grossest piece of shit. 

He decided to drop the subject for another time.

“Sorry to push us off topic, Dad,” Liam quickly corrected, “But, back to my original point...how do you know for sure Clark was the only shady one in the group?” 

Constantine considered this, tapping his pen on the wooden desktop, “What reason would I give them to turn their backs on me? I’ve been with these men for well over 30 years, I fed them,” he counted on his fingers, “clothed them, put their kids through school, made them dukes in their own respects. They made their names on my back, and they think they’re gonna fuck me over!” 

The sudden exclamation caused the man to cough violently into his arm and then into a handkerchief. Liam instinctively jumped to his feet, and rushed across the room to fetch a glass of water for his father. 

“I’m fine!” Constantine croaked, attempting to catch his breath, “I just got a bit overexcited.” 

Despite his protests, Constantine took the glass and sipped from it slowly. It hurt Liam to see his father deteriorating so quickly. A part of him felt like Constantine believed himself to be invincible. A smaller part of Liam felt like his father was simply just giving up. He had to put on an air of confidence, as he was at the top of the pyramid and could not show weakness. But as he grew older, cracks in the foundation began to form. Cracks that Liam had been working to seal. 

Liam loved his father. There was no doubt about that. But every day the work grew more difficult. Liam could almost envision the empire crumbling at his father’s feet, all because he was too stubborn to fix the loose bricks. 

As if reading his mind, Constantine sat the glass down and looked over his son, “You do know that I love you, right, kiddo?” 

There was a faraway look in his eyes, a look Liam saw once in a while. And he always wondered where Constantine went when that happened. 

“Yeah, I know, dad.”

Sadness darkened his father’s features, “Despite the issues that your mother and I had,” he cleared his throat, “I did love her. And I think you were the best thing that ever happened to me. I’m always going to be proud of you.” 

A pit formed in Liam’s stomach and he reached across to grab his father’s hand, “Hey, what are you not telling me?” 

And just like that, Constantine switched the darkness off, a confident grin returning to his face. It didn’t reach his eyes. 

“A man can’t tell his kid he appreciates him, anymore? Lighten up, Liam.” 

--x--

Liam sat in the garage of his apartment building to smoke and attempt at shuffling through his thoughts. Maybe it was counterproductive. An hour after leaving Constantine’s office, Liam learned of another potential fuck up in his father’s ranks. Someone was making trade deals on the low, and informing a rival company of some arms delivery pick up spots before they arrived for a cut of the profit. He passed the message along to Drake, who responded with the same concerns regarding Constantine’s failing leadership. 

Liam was only one man. Though he was sure he didn’t feel an ounce of the pressure his father did, the stress he felt nearly crippled him sometimes. He briefly allowed his mind to wander to Lyra and what she was doing. Did she know how much he envied her life? She didn’t answer to anyone, she could leave the city if she wanted to, she never had to constantly look over her shoulder. Lyra carried herself with the air of freedom he could only dream about. Clutching his phone in tatted knuckles, he almost considered texting her. But truly, what would he even say? 

“Hey, I know we only spoke once and you gave me your number because you wanted to pay me back for the gas (which you still don’t have to do). But what does freedom feel like?” 

Right now, Liam imagined she was laying across the secondhand sofa in some old college sweatshirt, watching YouTube, her mind a thousand miles away from him. He’d never even seen her apartment. But he had a feeling she had a lot of plants and a collection of decorated whiskey bottles on her kitchen counter. She seemed like the type. He caught himself chuckling at the thought and frowned. Ideally, he’d just let her go. He could never bring her into this world, she was too good for it. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that he could grow to like her. 

The shrill ring of his phone cut through his thoughts, sharply pulling him from a moment of escapism he didn’t even know he needed. 

“Hello?” Liam answered, attempting to mask his disappointment. 

“Idon’tknowwhathappened! Idon’tknow!” A shrill voice cried on the other end between sobs. Liam pulled the phone from his face, and realized it was his father’s assistant, Penelope, calling from an unknown number. Alarm bells went off in Liam’s head, and he turned the ignition in his car. 

“Pen, what happened?” He asked, sitting up in his seat. 

“I just came in and he was....! I don’t know what happened, Liam! I was gone for an hour!”

“What. Happened?” Liam asked, again. His heart began to thud in his ears, and he gripped the steering wheel, “Just fucking tell me. Spit it out-”

“Constantine shot himself!”

[terriblecreations]

The Way I Feel Inside Part 4

Masterlist for the Series is Here

Warnings: Mentions of broken nose?

Words: 1111

Summary: It’s time for the gala, and unexpected help allows it to go smoothly. But apparently this extra help causes a few extra problems you did not see coming.

Author’s Note: I know this chapter is definitely not the best, probably the worst one written. Hopefully Part 5, which will definitely be better, will drop soon

You and Eggsy drew your weapons, ready to fire. The waiter chuckled.

“Sorry for the cloak and dagger act, but the Statesmen were too busy trying to get our aliases to match up with y’alls and we didn’t feel like waiting. Your boss should’ve sent a memo.” He pulled off a fake nose and other bits. He motioned to his partner who was doing the same. I felt a pang when I realized who they were.

 “This is Gin and I’m Root Beer.”

Eggsy glanced at his smart watch, encrypted of course, before giving you the nod.

“Glad to actually make your acquaintance.” The woman said. She smiled at Eggsy and you felt a foreign feeling well up in your chest. 

You examined both of them, noting their done up hair and pristine outfits.

“You’re coming with us to the gala then…” you said, trying to keep the annoyance out of your tone.

“Why of course, Sam Adams.” Gin answered with a giggle.

You stiffened, gritting your teeth as Eggsy glanced at you with a raised eyebrow.

Root Beer noticably elbowed his partner, who looked confused for a moment before gasping in shock.

“Sam Adams?” Eggsy questioned.

“There’s no time for this,” you said. “We have to go to the gala now.”

Leaving no room for you guys being delayed any longer, you opened the door and slid into the car until you were behind Agent Root Beer. Eggsy followed, his jaw stiff as the car began onwards to your destination.

The ride was silent. You could feel Eggsy fuming in the seat beside you. You wanted to say something, anything, but this definitely was not the right time, so you filed it away for later.

“What’s the new plan?” he said, breaking the silence.

“Same bit, really,” Gin said. “You and Sam Adams, er… Morgana will still be going into the gala posing as newlyweds. Myself and RB will be posing as Tamora and Remus, your siblings, Galahad. The legitimate ones, that is. When we have the target in sights, Morgana and I will have a ‘cat-fight,” you and her both rolled your eyes at the term, “and RB will swoop in and take the target.”

“The Statesmen have a safehouse even more off the grid than your hotel suite, a cabin a few clicks away from the city. We will part ways, us boys and you girls, and rendevouz there.”

You nodded, appreciating the knack for detail you remembered the Statesmen having.

(Time Skip cause laziness)

You and Eggsy entered the gala arm-in-arm, fake smiles plastered on your faces as you navigated through throngs of rich folk who spared no second glances to us. Eggsy’s arm was wrapped around your waist, and you could feel how tense he was.

“Rupert,” you said, your voice soft as honey. You winced at the feeling of his arm tightning. You leaned in close to his ear, so close that your lips brushed against it as you said, “I know we need to have a talk later, but can you please stop squeezing me so tightly?”

His eyes widened, ears turning red as he slowly loosened his grip. “Sorry, love, but I think I’ll go check out the drinks over there.”

You watched him go. You hated to admit it, but a part of you wanted to chase him down and explain everything.

Unfortunately, however, Gin chose that moment to approach you. You shared a look before she shoved you, hard.

You narrowed your eyes at her. “What the fuck is your problem?” You made sure to make your voice a bit loud so the other partygoers could hear you.

“You know what my problem is, Amara. Keep Rupert the hell away from us. He’s not getting a cent of that inheritance.” She seethed.

By now, anyone within close proximity and then some was staring at you both intently.

“He’s worked harder than any of you lot. He deserves anything he’s given.”

Even the musicians were slowing down to stare at you. God, I need to lock myself in a room for a month straight to get over this, you thought to yourself.

For a moment, you wondered who was going to throw the first punch. Gin had no problem deciding that.

You stumbled backwards from the force of the blow. She raised an eyebrow at you, a proud smirk on her face.

Oh hell no.

You straightened yourself and grabbed her by her obvious extensions, ripping them out without warning. A collective gasp went through the crowd as you tossed them to the side.

Her eyes narrowed as she stalked toward you, but you brought the heel of your hand up and hit her straight in the nose. She cried out and grabbed her nose.

“If you’re done, Root Beer has the target and we’re heading out,” Eggsy’s voice echoed in your ear.

Now, how to finish this with time to leave…

“We have to get ourselves kicked out,” Gin whispered into her headset

Well, it was a charity gala, meant to sell the scultptures and paintings that happened to be laying around…

(Time Skip to the Cabin)

You helped Gin navigate the steps up the safehouse while she held a cloth to her nose. 

RB was the one who opened the door for you both, taking one look at Gin before letting you in.

“This isn’t what we meant by a cat-fight,” he said as he brought Gin to one of the sofas.

You glanced around the room, noticing one missing body. “Where’s Agent Galahad?”

“Dealing with the target in the basement.” RB looked you up and down. “Do any of the Kingsman know?”

“The Higher Ups do. That’s all that ever really mattered.” You sighed as you looked over Gin. “You good?”

She nodded. “You always knew how to throw a punch, Sam Adams.”

You smirked. “Well, I’ll head upstairs. When Galahad’s done, send him to me.”

Once in the room, you couldn’t help the flashbacks from before your time with Kingsman. Of nights spent in this cabin with a person whose face continued to fade from your memory every day.

You showered and changed into a pair of loose pants and a tank top before sitting on the edge of the bed, lost in thought.

“We need to talk.”

You glanced up to see Eggsy standing in the doorway, arms crossed.

“Yeah, we do.”

A/N: Now that that’s over. Part 5 will be on its way and yes there’ll be angst. Maybe some fluff. Idk we will see how nice I’m feeling that day.

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[thatapostateboy]

colourful charade

Pairing: None, just platonic Constantin and de Sardet

Word Count: 1835

Synopsis: A fic about a young de Sardet, her more exasperated mother and an introduction. (I wrote most of this on my phone so please forgive any errors) 

It was the day after her sixteenth birthday that Genevieve de Sardet broke a man’s nose for the first time. There had been plenty of times before that incident where it had been an option she had considered; any number of cruel boys or even crueller adults at court took the opportunity to pass comment on the curling green mark upon her cheek, coming up with increasingly more ludicrous reasons for its existence; an infection, a curse, the true beginning of the Malichor.

It had angered her so much, to listen to people who did not know her judging her for something that she had been born with. Her relation to the royal family saved her any public ridicule, but it was the whispers behind her back that truly hurt her more. It was for that reason that her mother had trained her young how to always strive towards diplomacy. She was a lady of the court, niece to the Prince D’Orsay, she would need to know how to navigate the delicate dealings and political backstabbings that came with that role.

From a young age, she took to those lessons with great enthusiasm, finding a talent within herself for the intrigue and game of it all. She never truly agreed with the secrecy and the way that the nobility clung to their titles even at the expense of the major populace, but she loved knowing how to play them to get what she wanted.

It didn’t stop many of the rumours, but whatever words spread, everyone held a respect for the young Lady de Sardet, for so quickly learning how to play.

And yet, none of it mattered in that moment that she stood in her mother’s room, her usually tidy hair falling loose from her braids, mud on her dress. It was not a fully unusual state of dress, having been a tearaway child, always running off on adventures with her cousin. But the true part that stood out was that her hand was swollen and shaking in pain, a smear of someone else’s blood still on it.

Princess de Sardet let out a heavy sigh as she took in the sight of her daughter, “The guards tell me you punched a boy.”

Genevieve looked away dejectedly. Of course the guards had been the ones to tell on her. The members of the Coin Guard were some of the only people in the palace that she could never wrap her head around. The only way of making this whole incident go away would have been to pay them, but unfortunately, they answered to her mother and her uncle before her.

“I thought I taught you well,” she said, “What is the one thing I told you always to remember, my child?”

“That we are meant to use our words before anything else,” Genevieve muttered.

“And yet, you broke a boy’s nose, and injured your poor hand in the process,” she gestured to her daughter’s shaking hand.

Genevieve let out a huff, trying to defend herself, “But Mother…”

Princess de Sardet put her hand up to quiet her child, “Darling, you are a lady, not a soldier. Whatever happened, it is not your duty to take such actions.”

“But-” she tried to interject to no avail.

“We will have to organise some sort of apology to appease the boy’s family before news of this spreads too far, perhaps an opportunistic marriage arrangement or a position at court or-”

“I had no choice!” she blurted out.

Her mother’s eyebrows raised high, “I’m sorry?”

“Constantin and I had a break between our lessons, so we decided to venture into the city for a few hours. We were careful, we didn’t wear our recognisable clothes. We thought it would be fun to sneak into the Coin Tavern. We had a drink together, we weren’t bothering anyone, when suddenly this boy came up to us. He was a few years older, but I recognised him as the eldest son of the Laval family. Unfortunately, he had recognised us as well, and thought he would take the opportunity whilst he was well into his cups and away from the court to openly tell me in front of the entire tavern what he thought of me. He called me a cursed bitch who wasn’t even worthy of being downstairs with the tavern whores. He told me that his younger brother had contracted the malichor and wondered if slitting my throat would cure him,” she told her.

“That wretched boy. I will ensure he pays for this public scene, I promise you that,” her mother nodded, deep in thought, “So that is when you punched him?”

“Not entirely,” Genevieve said, “It was then that dear Constantin attempted to come to my rescue. He denounced him, threatened to have his tongue for the threats against his fair cousin, and told him that he would regret ever laying eyes on me. At which point the Laval boy laughed and told Constantin that he was a weaselly little bastard and his father would disown him before he ever disappointed everyone enough to take the throne. He then knocked Constantin to the ground and was going to attack him. I grabbed my mug and threw it at him to get his attention away from Constantin… And that is when I punched him.”

“I see.”

Her mother rose from her desk and paced to the window looking out across her view of the city, quiet for a long moment.

Genevieve took a deep breath, but held her head high, “I know my duty, mother, and my duty will always be to protect Constantin. Through whatever means necessary. It wasn’t the situation for words, and I would do it again in a heartbeat. If you wish to punish me for that, I will accept it, but I will not regret my actions.”

The Princess de Sardet turned to look back at her daughter, letting out a drawn out sigh, “I need time to think on this. For now, return to your room and I will make sure someone sees to your hand… But thank you for telling me the truth. I will make sure appropriate punishments are dealt out.”

~*~*~

It was later that evening as she sat curled up in her armchair by the fire reading a book, that she heard her door open. She smiled to herself, not even looking up. There was only one person who ever came in without knocking.

“Good evening, dear cousin,” she said.

“My fair cousin, I have been desperate to come here to speak with you,” Constantin said, eagerly taking his usual seat in the chair opposite hers, “Once we were hauled back here by the guards, and then separated to be lectured by our mothers, I haven’t had the time to thank you.”

She set her book down, “You don’t need to thank me.”

“I do,” he nodded, “Had you not been there with me, I do not know what would have happened.”

“You wouldn’t have started a fight with a boy nearly twice the size of you,” she pointed out with a smirk.

“The brute started it himself when he insulted you,” he said, “I could not stand to hear him say such foul things about you.”

“I can handle myself, Constantin,” she reminded him.

“I know, but we look after each other. It’s what we do… Though you are more likely to be the one looking after me. My lucky star. Always there to pull me out of my fires… I cannot believe that you truly broke his nose,” he said with a hum of laughter.

“And near broke my hand doing it,” she said, raising her bandaged hand. A healer had dealt with it for her, but had told her to rest it for the evening to prevent any further damage.

“Has your mother doled out any punishment yet?” he asked, “My father was furious, hearing that I was nearly part of a bar brawl in broad daylight. He was in the middle of lecturing me about disappointment and responsibility when your mother came in to talk to him. He sent me to my room and I’ve not heard a thing since.”

“Neither have I,” she admitted, “I’m starting to find this lack of clarity worse than any punishment they come up with.”

It was then that a soft knock came at the door. Genevieve rose to her feet, calling out for them to enter.

Her mother swept into the room, greeting her nephew with a respectful nod.

“The Prince and I have been in discussion,” she told them, “The Laval boy has received his due justice for his actions in the tavern. It is safe to say that their family is now in disgrace for so openly insulting and nearly assaulting the prince’s son and niece. As for the two of you… Though you prevented a worse fight from occurring, you both still snuck out of the palace without informing anyone, spent the afternoon in a tavern, and then injured a young man of the nobility. Whatever your intentions, this is something that cannot be ignored. You will both gather in the courtyard immediately after breakfast tomorrow.”

“What for?” Genevieve asked.

“You will find out in the morning. For now, rest well, both of you. You have a long day ahead of you,” she said with a quirk of her eyebrow and she left the room, leaving the two cousins staring at each other dumb-founded.

~*~*~

The next morning after an awkwardly quiet breakfast, the pair made their way to the courtyard as instructed, neither of them knowing what to expect. They found the Princess de Sardet waiting for them with a man of the Coin Guard, older than them by ten years, dark hair shorn at the sides, scars marking his face.

“If my endless instruction on the matters of court cannot keep you both from trouble after all these years, you both need to know what to do when trouble finds you,” she said, then looked to the man beside her, “This is Kurt, our Master of Arms. He will be taking on your combat instruction from now on.”

Both Genevieve and Constantin’s eyes went wide as they looked from him to her.

“Combat?” Constantin asked, voice dry.

“Yes, dearest nephew,” she nodded, “You must both be prepared for whatever life may throw at you. Your lessons with Kurt will be worked into your daily schedule, but you will be with him all day today. Learn from him. His lessons may one day save your life.”

She gave a regarding nod to Kurt, who returned it with, then she left them in the courtyard with him. They both looked at each other before Kurt let out a gruff chuckle, folding his arms across his chest.

“So, Your Excellencies,” he said, “I hear that someone needs to teach you dainties how to properly break a man’s nose without breaking your hand… Let’s get started.”

[badchoicesposts]

In A Land Of Myth...

Chapter 7

Summary: When Selene, a young sorceress, arrived in Stormholt she had every intention of remaining anonymous. King Constantine Rys had strict rules on sorcery. The act itself was punishable by death, and she had no desire to be burnt at the stake for her “crimes”. However, it becomes increasingly difficult for her to remain unseen when she becomes Prince Liam’s personal maidservant, and it seems that it’s her job to protect him from everyone that wants to kill him.

Author’s Note: This AU is a cross between TRR, The Crown and The Flame, and BBC’s Merlin. Merlin follows the tale of King Arthur and the sorcerer Merlin. Merlin comes to Camelot where magic is outlawed and is made Prince Arthur’s servant. 

Disclaimer: You do not have to watch the show to understand this fic, but it is based on the BBC show Merlin so the story line will be similar. I don’t own the plot to Merlin or any of the TRR characters.

Pairing: Liam x MC (Selene), Drake x MC, Platonic!Bastien x MC

Taglist: @flowerpowell​​​, @bobasheebaby​​​, @alexintheskyy​​​, @slytherincursebreaker​​​, @kingliam2019​​​, @furiousherringoperatortoad​​​, @goldenbirdcrystalcage​​​, @burnsoslow​​​, @zilch3 

Let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist!

Catch Up: Masterlist

Selene sighed tiredly from her place atop her horse as she, Drake, and Liam rode through the forest and back to Stormholt. The hunting trip they were on had been long and uneventful, and she was getting restless. 

“There’s a small tavern up ahead. Why don’t we stop for a pint of Skullcracker Ale?” Liam said, shooting her a sideways glance. 

Selene let out a groan.

“Can we just go home?” she asked, looking over to Drake for sympathy. 

“I’m okay with stopping,” he responded with a smirk, causing her to glare in his direction. 

The two men shared a smile and rode ahead of her, causing her to roll her eyes and follow after them off the path they were travelling and to the tavern. They dismounted their horses, and Selene tried her best to keep from scrunching up her face as the smell of alcohol filled her nose. The barmaid, a squat woman with long brown tresses, approached them as the boys sat down at one side of the table, and Selene settled herself at the other. 

“Well, aren’t you handsome,” the woman said, smiling flirtatiously. 

Drake’s entire face turned red, and he sputtered out a quick thanks, much to the woman’s surprise. 

“Oh, sorry. I was talking about your friend here,” she said, making eyes at Liam and causing Drake to blush even further. 

Selene stifled a laugh as she watched him shift uncomfortably, while Liam simply smiled at the woman modestly. 

“I just love those eyes,” she said continuing to smile at him. “What can I get for you three.” 

Liam ordered for them, and the woman wandered back over the the bartop, allowing Selene to finally burst out in laughter.

“It’s okay, Drake. I think you’re pretty handsome,” she said with a smirk, causing his face to flush again. 

He glared over at her and she was about to respond when the door to the tavern was thrown open and an imposing looking man entered. Selene noted that the room seemed to go silent almost immediately. All of the patrons, who were just previously conversing jovially, immediately stopped talking and watched as he made his way over to the barmaid. 

“Business seems good. You should have no problem giving me my share,” he said to her in a low, grumbling voice. 

The woman looked at him with a mixture of fear and hatred and threw a few coins onto the counter in front of her. 

“Some days are better than others,” she said in a quiet voice.

The man was obviously unsatisfied with her answer. He counted through the coins with a look of distaste. 

“Where’s the rest?” 

“This is all we can spare.”

“Give me the rest. I won’t ask again!” he growled, swiftly pulling a knife out of his pocket and holding it to the woman’s neck. 

Selene watched as Liam immediately rose to his feet and approached them. She and Drake shared a nervous look, both knowing that this wasn’t going to end well. 

“Take your hands off of her,” Liam instructed, his voice hard.

The man turned slowly in his spot, sizing Liam up with an intimidating look on his face. After a moment, he smiled. The action was full of malice, and Selene wanted to point out that they wouldn’t have to be dealing with this if they had just listened to her and went straight home. He whistled loudly, and the door to the tavern slammed open again. Everyone turned to look at the door, and three men, each more intimidating than the last, entered the bar. 

“Oh, for the love of god,” Selene grumbled under her breath as she watched Liam duck under the first man’s oncoming fist.

All hell broke loose and everyone rose to their feet as the three other men began to approach Liam as well. Drake and Selene ran to his aid as most people simply watched on in shock. Drake grabbed one of the men by the back of his shirt, and the two became locked in a heated fight as Selene grabbed a nearby jug of mead and slammed it over the head of another.

Her actions seemed to shock the barmaid out of her previous stupor, and she immediately jumped into the fight herself, wanting to defend her property. All around them people began jumping into the mix as well, a man with short brown hair and bright blue eyes fighting the most enthusiastically. 

The man who Selene had attacked looked at her in surprise for a moment before advancing on her. She backed away slowly, wishing she had a sword with her. Bas and Drake had taught her how to swordfight, but she had never done any hand to hand combat. She looked around for something to hit him with but was pulled out of her search by the sound of a loud cry. She whipped her head around to see her opponent lying on the floor, the man with the blue eyes shooting her a smile before moving on to help Drake. 

“Beaumont?” Drake cried out in shock, taking in the other man’s face for the first time as he dodged a punch. 

“Hey, Drake!” the man called Beaumont said happily. 

Selene couldn’t help but notice how chipper he looked even though they were in the middle of a fight and wondered how Drake knew him. The two of them took down the man together, and the original debt collector, who had been battling with Liam the entire time looked around and noticed that he was outnumbered. He pulled out the knife once again and lunged at Liam. In the blink of an eye, Beaumont pushed Liam out of the way, the knife lodging in his side and causing him to fall to the ground. 

“Maxwell!” Liam called out in concern, rushing to his side as Drake lunged towards the thug and tackled him to the ground. 

Selene moved to Liam’s side and checked for the man’s pulse. It was weak, but still present. Apparently spending time with Xinghai and Hana had taught her a thing or two about medicine.

“He’s still alive, but we need to get him to Xinghai now,” she said, as a few patrons of the bar moved forward to help Drake restrain the debt collector. 

Liam nodded in understanding, and Selene helped him support Maxwell’s weight to take him outside. She watched as he hoisted his body over his horse and climbed onto the animal as well. Drake joined them soon after, and the four of them immediately set off, wanting to reach Stormholt as soon as possible. They finally arrived in front of the castle, and Drake and Liam immediately began carrying the still bleeding Maxwell inside. Selene ran after them and was surprised to hear Hana exclaim Maxwell’s name in shock as they carried him into the physicians quarters.

Selene bit back her questions about the man’s identity and set to work trying to help Hana stop the bleeding. Liam and Drake left after a few minutes, Liam instructing her to stay with Maxwell until he woke up, and she sat quietly while Xinghai and Hana bustled around him. After stopping the bleeding and making sure he was in stable condition, the three of them carried him to Hana’s bedroom and placed him on the bed so that he would be able to rest in peace.

Selene paced around the room as he slept, anxiously waiting for him to wake up. Maxwell had saved their lives in the tavern today. Without him the fight probably would have carried on for a lot longer and would have been more deadly. If he hadn’t pushed Liam out of the way then he probably would have been the one to get caught by the knife. After a few hours, Maxwell finally began to stir, and Selene approached the bed with a goblet of water as he opened his eyes.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, helping him sit up and take a sip of water.

“Like I got stabbed,” he winced out before flashing her a small smile. “I’m Maxwell.”

“So I’ve heard. I’m Selene,” she said with a smile, sitting down next to him on the edge of the bed. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Selene,” he said, attempting to make himself more comfortable. 

“Thank you for what you did. You saved Liam’s life.”

“It’s no big deal. It just looked like you could use the help,” he waved her comment off with another smile. 

“It is a big deal. Not everyone would have taken a knife to the stomach for a stranger,” she said before rethinking her words. “Well, I guess you’re not a stranger. It seems I’m the only one around here who doesn’t know who you are.”

His face fell slightly at her words, but he recovered quickly, placing the same easygoing smile on his face that he had worn since waking up. 

“I left Stormholt a while ago, so I’m not surprised you haven’t heard of me,” he said. “Are you new around here?”

Selene nodded in response. 

“I’ve been here for just a bit over two months. Bastien was a friend of my mother’s, and he took me in,” she explained. 

“A friend?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively and causing her to laugh. 

“I may or may not have been scheming up a way of getting them back together,” she admitted with a guilty smile. “I haven’t figured it out just yet, though. It’s tough when she lives so far away from here.”

She didn’t know why, but she felt immediately at ease with Maxwell. It was as if she had known the man for years.

“Did you grow up around here?” she asked, turning the conversation back to him in attempts to find out how everyone knew him. 

“Yeah, I actually grew up with Liam, Leo, Drake, and Hana,” he said.

Selene noted the way he paused after saying this, obviously a bit uncomfortable by the topic. 

“It’s okay if you don’t want to explain,” she quickly said, not wanting to force him to speak. 

“It’s alright. My father was actually a knight,” he continued.

“You come from a noble family?” 

“More of a disgraced noble family,” he mumbled softly, causing her to raise her brows in question. “He was Queen Eleanor’s older brother.”

“You and Liam are cousins?” she asked in shock. Maxwell only nodded in response. 

“My father died in battle a few years ago, and when my brother Bertrand started looking closer into our house’s finances, he realized that we were broke. Apparently my father wasn’t as good at handling money as we originally thought. We went to Constantine for help, but all he did was thank us for his service and wave us off, so we left, and with that the Beaumont name became a joke. Bertrand and I parted ways and we haven’t seen each other since.”

The fact that Constantine turned away family was unsettling. She couldn’t even imagine how that must have felt to Maxwell and his brother. In their time of need, he didn’t even consider being there for them. 

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” she said. “I want to be surprised that Constantine refused to help, but I can’t say that I am. What have you been doing since then?”

“I move around a lot, never really stay in one place. Sometimes I make money from tournaments, and I do some odd jobs here and there, but nothing consistent,” he responded with a shrug. 

They sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments, before Selene rose to her feet.

“I’ll go tell Xinghai that you’re up. He’ll probably want to check you out,” she said, bidding him farewell and exiting the room.

 She stopped briefly to speak to Xinghai and then made her way to Liam’s quarters to inform him of Maxwell’s progress, before returning her and Bastien’s shared chambers. She leaned over to rub behind Chance’s ears, and the dog responded by licking her chin happily.

“Selene, I heard about what happened at the tavern. I’m glad you’re alright,” Bastien greeted her with a warm smile and a look of relief. 

He motioned for her to sit down and join him for dinner, and she obliged, silently picking at her meal while she mulled over Maxwell’s words.

“You’re quiet tonight,” he said softly after they had finished eating. 

Selene looked up and observed his face silently, searching for the right words.

“If it came down to it… in battle… would you use magic if it would save your life?” she finally managed to ask.

Bastien seemed startled at her question. 

“What?”

“If it came down to using magic and dying, would you use it?” she asked again, more insistently this time. 

“Why do you ask?”

Selene let out a long breath and tried to ignore the stinging in her eyes. 

“It’s just that… everyone’s father seems to have died in battle. Madeleine’s, Maxwell’s. Even Drake’s. I never realized how dangerous your job was before,” she said, wiping away a stray tear aggressively.

“For over twenty years my only duty has been to Stormholt and to my king, but that changed the minute you made me drop that goblet of wine. I promise you, I’m going to be around for quite some time,” he reassured with a soft smile. 

Selene let out a chuckle and wiped away a few more tears. 

“Good,” she said, wrapping her arms around him and settling into his embrace for a few moments. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

The next morning Selene went about her day as usual, Chance following behind her as she made her way to Liam’s chambers and began cleaning through them. He had already been up and ready by the time she got to him, and they planned on visiting Maxwell with Drake later to help him get moved into another room in the palace. 

“When did you get a dog?” Drake asked her when the three of them met up after lunch. 

Liam bent down and began petting Chance’s back, the dog soon rolling over so that the prince would rub his stomach. 

“Oh, you know, a while ago,” she offered pathetically as he eyed the animal suspiciously.

Liam had met Chance several times because Selene was almost always at his side since she had become his servant, but Drake had never met the dog before, and Selene hoped that he couldn’t see the resemblance between him and the statue he once was. When Liam had finally removed his hands from the dog, Chance immediately walked over to Drake, jumping up on his new friend and begging for attention. She smiled to herself as she watched him interact with the animal, leaning over to give him a thorough scratch behind the ear. But she could still see him eyeing Chance critically, so she whistled to call him back to her side. 

“Let’s go get Maxwell!” she said, already taking off down the hall in attempts to change the subject as soon as possible. 

The two men shrugged at each other, confused at the sudden change, but followed after her nevertheless. Maxwell was already up and dressed when they arrived at the physician’s quarters. His eyes lit up when he saw Chance.

“How are you feeling?” Selene asked him as he wandered out of Hana’s room to greet them.

Selene noted even though he was smiling at them brightly, he was walking with his body hunched over ever so slightly, and it was obvious that he was still in pain. He lowered himself to the ground, which obviously took quite a bit of effort, and allowed Chance to crawl into his lap. 

“I feel great. Xinghai says I’m good to go!” 

“Go?” Liam immediately questioned, his brows furrowed in concern. “I’ve had a room set up for you in the palace.”

Maxwell seemed to perk up at his words, but the moment was gone almost as quickly as he had said them. 

“I’ve been staying at an inn near the tavern. I should probably be heading back.” 

“You should stay until you heal up completely,” Selene said, motioning to the side of his body where he was injured. 

“Selene’s right. You saved my life. I insist,” Liam piped up. 

Maxwell still looked a bit apprehensive, and Selene elbowed Drake roughly in the side. 

“Ouch!” he exclaimed, clutching his side and glaring at her. “What was that for?”

 Selene raised her eyebrows and inclined her head in Maxwell’s direction. Drake rolled his eyes in response but looked over to Maxwell pointedly. 

“What they said,” he said, cringing slightly in pain and causing Selene to glare over at him again. 

Drake rolled his eyes at her, and she made to elbow him a second time when he held his hands up in surrender. 

“You should stay,” Drake finally said, pulling a satisfied smile from Selene. 

Maxwell finally seemed to relax and open up to the idea. 

“I should still head back to the inn. I have to get my things,” Maxwell said, saying goodbye to Xinghai and preparing to leave. 

“Let me! You shouldn’t be riding a horse right now,” Selene said. “As long as that’s okay with you, Liam.” 

“Of course. You should take Drake with you. I would accompany you myself, but I have some business to attend to,” Liam said. “You should head out, and I’ll show Maxwell to his room.”

Drake grumbled quietly to himself, still slightly rubbing his side, but he didn’t object. 

“Oh, come on. I didn’t even elbow you that hard,” Selene said with a smile as she grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the room. 

They said goodbye to Bastien, and as they mounted their horses, they took notice of how the sky turned an ominous shade of grey and psyched themselves up for what was sure to be a long day. 

[themadlostgirl]

A Little Lady

*Got a bit carried away with the backstory in the beginning but what are you gonna do?*

Prompt: Y/N is Peter’s best friend and she has to calm him down when the boys complain he’s too strict. Turns out he’s been paranoid about protecting her

Requested by: anon

Warnings: none

---

When I was a little kid I had heard tales of Neverland and wished to go there more than anything. It was a place of wonder and freedom that every child in the orphanage dreamed of. I heard that the way to go there was to wish on the second star to the right at the peak of the night. I waited until the orphanage had gone still and snores filled the air before I climbed out of bed and went to the window.

I found the star in the sky and clasped my hands together. “I wish to go to Neverland. Please. Please.”

I waited and waited searching the stars for...something. I wasn’t sure what.

Then out of the darkness something flew closer and closer till it was at my window. It was a boy.

“Are you the one that called me?” He raised an eyebrow at me, “Not the usual riff raff I’m used.”

“What are you?” I asked the boy.

“What kind of question is that? Asking what I am before even asking my name.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. What is your name? My name is Y/N.”

“Peter Pan at your service, little lady,” He bowed and took my small hand in his. He gave it a small kiss that made me giggle and my cheeks warm. “I heard that you want to go to Neverland.”

“Yes! Yes I do! Can you take me there?”

“Yes I can. But I won’t.”

“Why not?” I stomped my foot.

“You’re a bit too young for the likes of Neverland. The island would chew you up and spit you out.”

“I thought Neverland was a place of wonder where you never have to grow up and there are no stinky adults to tell you what to do.”

“It is but it’s not exactly safe for...how old are you? Five?”

“I’m six and a half!”

“Excuse me, but you must be at least twelve years old before you can become a Lost One on Neverland. Call on me in five and a half years and we’ll see about bringing you to Neverland.”

“Five and a half years is such a long time to wait though.”

“It’ll go by in the blink of an eye. If you should find yourself in a tough spot or just feeling lonely then call on the second star to the right. I’ll come by.” he laid a hand over his heart, “My word is my bond.”

“Fine…” I grumbled, “Before you go though could I...could I have another kiss?”

He grinned and reached into his pocket and withdrew an acorn. “There you are.”

“That’s an acorn!”

“No, it’s a kiss.” he dropped it into my hands, “One you can hold onto until next we meet again.”

“Well, can I give you a kiss?”

“Why not,” he shrugged and brought his face closer so I could leave a tiny peck on his cheek. “Now you go back to bed. Sweet dreams, little one.”

“Sweet dreams, Peter Pan.”

That was my first meeting with Peter Pan. The years would go by and I would call to Peter Pan when I was sad or feeling alone. At the end of our time I would ask Peter if I could give him a kiss and each time I gave him a peck on the cheek. I put the acorn--the kiss--he had given me on a chain and wore it around my neck always. He became my friend. My very best friend.

When I turned twelve I asked Peter if I could go to Neverland with him.

“Sorry, little lady,” He shook his head, “You aren’t quite ready for Neverland.”

“But I’m twelve years old. You told me that I had to be at least twelve years old to go to Neverland and now I am. Why can’t I go?”

“You may be old enough but you are not yet strong enough, I'm afraid. Try again next year, little lady.” he said.

I crossed my arms and turned away from him. “Stop pouting,” he rapped his knuckles on top of my head, “It’s not forever. I promise. My word is my bond.”

“Junk bond.” I muttered, “You do promise I will go to Neverland one day, right?”

“I promise, can I get my kiss?” he smirked.

“Of course,” I smirked right back. He waited with his cheek towards me. I looked around and found a thimble laying on the windowsill. I placed it in his palm. “A kiss.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong but this is a thimble, little lady,”

“No, it’s a kiss.” I repeated the words he spoke to me five and a half years ago, “One you can hold onto until next we meet again.”

“I’m afraid I’m becoming an influence on you.” he tucked the thimble in his pocket. “Thank you for such a shiny kiss. Now off to bed. Sweet dreams.”

“Sweet dreams.” I climbed back into bed. Every year when I grew older I would ask Peter to take me to Neverland and every year he found a reason so tell me no. It wasn’t till I was nearing my seventeenth year that he finally took me away to Neverland with him.

Flying over the island and seeing it for the first time was more amazing than I ever dreamed. We landed in a camp located in the midst of the grand jungle. There Peter introduced me to the Lost Boys. I slotted in perfectly amongst them. It was like Neverland had been waiting for me.

I don’t know why Peter took so long to bring me here. I had been there for over three weeks and it wasn’t at all filled with the reckless abandon I was expecting. Peter made it sound like you had to be some kind of warrior to live on Neverland. But to my surprise it was well ordered and not in the least bit dangerous and crazy.

I was in camp chatting with some of the boys when an argument started to break out nearby. Everyone in the camp stopped what they were doing to see what was going on. There was Peter and he was being accosted by a group of the Lost Boys.

“We can’t take it anymore! If I wanted a place full of rules and a stick in the mud up my ass about every little thing then I would have stayed right where I was before I came here.” The boy shouted in Peter’s face.

The fury Peter was holding back from unleashing outright was wafting off him like a fog. “Oh dear,” I rushed over to them and stepped between Peter and the boys. “Hi, Peter, look at me.”

That chilling green gaze landed on me and softened slightly. “Y/N…give me a moment. I have an issue to deal with.”

“I’m sure you do. How about before you come sit with me for a spell.”

“Not right now--”

“Peter,” I grabbed his arm, “Sit down.”

“I don’t--”

“You’re agitated and not making any sensible decisions. Sit. Down.” I told him more sternly.

I sat down on a log and he reclined in the space between my legs. I ran my hands through his hair and he began to relax.

“Better?” I whispered and he hummed contently in response.

I shot a look at the moronic Lost Boys and they scattered. You would think they’d get some sense about them. Peter’s temper isn’t exactly a secret.

“You need to try and have more patience with them. I’m not always going to be here to cool you down.”

“How can anyone have patience with such imbeciles?” he grumbled.

“If I can you can. Are you calmed down?” He nodded. “Now are you going to tell me why you’re being so strict with the boys? I know this isn’t how Neverland should be.”

“I’m not--”

“Peter, it is obvious that you have been really on edge these past couple of weeks. It is aggravating the boys and to be honest it’s annoying me too.”

“I don’t wanna tell you.”

“Why?”

“Because I know how you’ll react.”

“What is it?” I tugged on his hair when he didn’t say anything. “Peter Elizabeth Pan!”

“My middle name isn’t Elizabeth.”

“It is when you’re keeping secrets.”

He lapsed back into silence.

“Peter Constantine Antionette Eucardo Ulysses--”

“Fine! Just stop giving me fifty different middle names.” He sat up and turned towards me, “The reason I’ve been so hard on everyone is to keep you safe.”

“Safe from what? Is someone out to get me?”

“No, but Neverland is really dangerous and I don’t want my best friend getting hurt. I couldn’t be able to live with myself if something bad happened to you when I could have prevented it.”

“Oh Peter…” I groaned, “Really? You’ve been down everyone’s throat because you don’t think I can fend for myself?”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t fend for yourself. I know you’re not an idiot or not resourceful but you are still getting used to this place and I just don’t want you getting into a bad situation.” he reached for my hand but I pulled back.

“Peter, is that why you kept me from Neverland for so long? Because you wanted to keep me safe?” I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Yes.” he stared down at the ground.

I couldn’t stay angry at him. He thought he was doing the right thing because he cares. I can’t keep a grudge against him for that.

“You silly boy,” I tweaked his nose, “Keeping me in a bubble because you’re scared for me isn’t doing anyone any favors. You’re not always going to be able to keep me out of trouble or from getting hurt. It’s all a part of life.”

“What do I do when you get hurt though? Stand around and feel guilty?”

“That’s the great thing about being a friend, Peter, you can help me feel better. It’s like when I was a little kid and I would call you whenever I was lonely or sad. You would come by and cheer me up.”

“It feels like those days were forever ago. You were just a wee thing. Tiny and giggling over a simple kiss on the back of your hand.” he played with the acorn around my neck.

“Yes. I also made the mistake of thinking you charming. Things change.” I rolled my eyes.

“I am plenty charming, little lady.”

“You’re a right bother is what you are, Peter Pan.” I smiled at him, “A bother that I love.”

“Awe, you love me?”

“Don’t go getting a big head. You’re my best friend, of course I love you. It’s just a shame you’re such a codfish.”

“Hey!”

[kclenhartnovels]

Nurse Me with Constantine and Delgos

[Again, minimal editing because I’m tired. Nonetheless, I’m rather proud of this one. TW for blood, torture, and death mentions.]

The border dispute should have been settled with little more than a herald and a show of force. Constantine barely looked at the report before he signed off to send his men, and even Delgos was fairly certain it would take no more than a cartographer.

They should have known better, when dealing with King Kendrick Ciel.

Of the twenty soldiers, the cartographer, and the herald that went to meet the Cielans at the border, all that returned was the cartographer with his cart of maps piled with dismembered bodies instead. By the time it reached the castle, the smell wafted well ahead of the tired mules.

“Who does he think he is?” Constantine held a cloth over his nose and mouth, his eyes tearing as he stood as close to the wagon as he dared. The castle guard already clustered to carefully unload and piece back together the bodies for funeral.

Delgos took Constantine’s hand, seeing the King’s knees start to quiver. “He thinks brutality can sway us. I’ll gather a larger contingent and ride out to meet his men, before they try to press any further in.”

Constantine squeezed his fingers. “I’m going with you.”

“Sire–”

“That wasn’t a suggestion, Delgos.” His order sounded thin through the cloth, and the way he leaned against Delgos’ arm, but it was enough that the guard gave no further protest.

No matter how much he thought it was a terrible decision.

The castle sat near enough to the northern border that the ride out was not long or hard, just winding paths through thick groves of pine, passing the smaller tributaries that fed the large river that served as the eastern border miles away. Scouts ran ahead, reporting back every few hours to assure there was no sign of the enemy yet, and redirecting them wherever there was a blocked road.

“There are so many trees down,” Constantine complained, his jaw clacking together as his horse jumped yet another broken pine in the trail.

“One of the scouts asked about it when they checked in with Roger’s Ford. The last winter brought so much heavy snow that it felled all the weaker trees. It made the rivers flood for almost all of the spring thaw, so most of the ferries and fords are still recovering, too. It almost swept away the bridge at Roger’s Ford.”

“If there is a bridge there, then why is it called Roger’s Ford?” he asked scathingly, wiping blood from his split lip, the squeeze of his legs making his horse prance and snort.

Delgos smiled. “Well, it used to be a ford, in your grandfather’s time. I guess the name stuck.”

“How far are we from the border now? We must be close.”

“After we make camp tonight, we should reach it by midday tomorrow.” Delgos pulled his horse up short when another scout came doubling back, dripping water and barely controlling his panicked horse.

“Cielans on the trail ahead, sir! There’s–an army.”

Arrows shrieked through the drooping pines, and Constantine’s horse reared, braying alarm and throwing him from its back.

“Formation! Get shield up and keep together!” Delgos called, as a second rally of arrows made the branches shake and men scream. He held the reins in one hand, wheeling his horse around and leaning down to grab Constantine by the arm. The King scrambled in the mud, his boots sliding on the wet needles as he clung to Delgos’ arm. Men leapt from the thick underbrush on either side of them, silver dragons embroidered on their chests and silver blades flashing in their hands.

“Formation!” Delgos ordered again, his startled men scrambling to turn their horses on the narrow path, others jumping down from the animals to face the ambush head-on. He yanked harder to pull Constantine upright and get him on the horse with him, when he felt an impact in his lower back. Starbursts blackened his vision, and in the moment where the world stopped, he landed on his side in the path. Shouts of men and horses thundered in his ears, Constantine pulled at his arm, the trees shook against the darkening sky, and the invasive blackness and ringing quiet finally settled over.

———–

“Patient spiders catch the flies

They wait and spin all day

But dragons need no patience for

All the world’s their prey

Wood to ash and flesh to bone

Sun to rain and life to death

When you hear the dragon’s roar

You’d better count your final breath!”

Constantine swallowed a whimper behind the rough gag, the ache in his arms from their awkward binding a mere annoyance compared to the tightness of his chest. He twisted in the saddle, but couldn’t see around the burly man keeping him from falling off, much less anything else behind the whooping, singing formation of soldiers. Vendave’s soldiers had scattered, and the dead were left among the pine needles and fallen horses. Delgos had been left there, laying still in the fading light. An overnight camp and a ride at the break of day had given Constantine hope of rescue, hope that his guard would sneak in, alive and well, but the hope seemed fainter at every step of the horse.

“No need to keep squirming, Your Majesty,” the rider assured chipperly, a carved dragon in his helm sporting a gemstone eye. “We’re almost there.”

The trail split ahead of them, and the dragons made their way towards the better-used half, the dirt path giving way to tightly-packed cobblestones and the wide entrance into the walled and stitled city of Roger’s Ford. The Cielans were greeted warmly, and if Constantine hadn’t been so worried about his guard, he would have been more angered by their treason. The walk through the town was brief, a blur of decorated nets hanging above doorways, and colorful banners that stretched across the center square.

“Patrol the roadways, and keep an eye out for any prowling lions,” the gemstone dragon ordered, dismounting and pulling Constantine down with him. “Report in every hour.”

“Yes, sir!”

Constantine dragged his feet, and his efforts were rewarded by being unceremoniously slung over the soldier’s shoulder. It was a short walk of shame, before a tavern door swung open, and the King was dropped onto a wooden table as if he were a slaughtered elk from a prize hunt.

“A gift for you, sire. We found a few lost lions in the woods, and thought you’d like the look of this one.”

Although Constantine had heard plenty about the heir to the Cielan throne, this was the first time he had seen Kendrick, though he had never expected his first impression to be at this angle. Kendrick had his boots propped on the table, and he didn’t move even when Constantine was deposited there. The angle made his already long legs seem to go on forever. His hands were folded comfortably in his lap, keeping the front of his silver-embroidered tunic smooth, showing off the impressive dragon that curved across his lean chest. He smiled, the expression wrinkling the edges of his dark eyes, as hawkish as the curve of his nose and angle of his jaw.

“I don’t know, seems a bit small to be a lion,” Kendrick mused, nudging the bound royal with his toe. “You sure you didn’t catch a house cat instead?”

“Shall we put it back, Your Majesty?”

“No, not yet. I’m sure we could find use for a mouser somewhere.”

Constantine thrashed for a moment, but finally got his legs beneath him, enough to sit up and give Kendrick a proper glare. He tried to speak, but got a mouthful of cloth for his troubles, his frustrated growl only making the other King laugh.

“My father used to talk about the Runnemede line, how they were made of stone and fire. Why don’t you and the boys see what he’s made of, Captain? Find your weakest dogs, and let them have a go at him. There’s a decent clearing by the river. Just don’t let him give up and drown himself, huh? If he really is a lion, I’ll want his hide to stretch in front of my fire later on.”

Constantine’s muffled protest was wholly ignored, and the gemstone dragon pulled him off the table by his bound arms. He hit the ground hard, barely getting his legs under him to avoid being dragged along completely. The last he saw of Kendrick was a sharp smile and a condescending wave of his fingers, before the tavern door swung shut again.

“Rumor has it you’re good with a sword, little lion,” the Captain said conversationally, as if Constantine could answer. “Well, we cut our teeth on swords up north. We’ll see if you’ve got any claws after all.”

The edge of town broke into smaller fishing huts, and eventually gave way to a sandy sloping bank at the river’s yawning mouth, trees thinning for a few hundred years until they met the dark forest again. Early morning light dappled the ground, and a dozen or so soldiers lounged by the water, one of them casually fishing, the others tending to armor and weapons, chatting easily.

“Captain Everlin, what did you bring us?” one of the soldiers called in greeting.

“A man of cloth and straw.” He dropped Constantine on the sand, and leaned down only long enough to cut the tight ropes. “Cut a few branches and test him out, huh?”

Constantine ripped the gag out of his mouth with his half-numb fingers, and pushed himself unsteadily to his feet. “Do you have any idea who I am?”

Everlin smiled, looping the cut ropes casually around his hand. “We know exactly who you are, Constantine Runnemede, son of Silas, son of Marius, King of what was formerly known as Vendave. Recent annex of the Kingdom of Ciel.”

One of the other soldiers tossed Constantine a rough wooden sword. “You’re target practice.”

Constantine caught the sword awkwardly, and quickly tried to rub the life back into his arms. “You don’t own Vendave yet, not by a long shot,” he snarled. “She will beat you back with every breath.”

“Until her last breath,” Everlin agreed. “Which will be soon. On your right, Your Majesty.”

Constantine’s sword caught the edge of his attacker’s just before it struck his shoulder. Pain rippled up his tingling arms from the impact, but he forced the other sword aside with a snarl. He countered almost immediately, striking the soldier just above the hip with a swift undercut. The men at the riverbank stood, forming a rough ring around the pair, and passing out more of the practice weapons.

“Oh, he does know how to use a sword!” Everlin crowed. “Maybe the lion’s got a tooth or two.”

Constantine ignored the ripple of laughter, moving into a stance of long practice to face the other soldier. The dragon grinned, but his next stab was sidestepped, and Constantine jabbed the end of his wooden sword as hard as he could into the soldier’s stomach. He fell to the sand, the air forced out of him with a choked noise. The dragons around them laughed. Two more soldiers stepped into the ring.

The sword ring was like coming home again, and Constantine could hear his trainer’s voice in his ear. Step. Parry. Counter. Step. Sword point up. Watch your footing. Counter. Parry. Duck. Counter. Stay defensive. Watch your flank. Step. Parry. Counter. Too aggressive, young Prince. Parry. Parry. Counter. Step over the winded soldier. Block a hit to the face. Stay defensive. Counter. Blood on the sand. Laughter in his ears. Pain in his arms. Step. Parry. Counter. Pain. Blood. Laughter. Parry. Counter. Parry. Parry. Parry. Fuck–

The butt of a sword hit him just below the eye, and Constantine fell onto his back. The sun lanced onto his face, its height and the burning in his lungs and arms promising it had been a few hours. Soldiers crowded closer. The practice sword cracked against his ribs. He spat blood onto the sand.

“Get him back on his feet,” Everlin called. “Surely you’ve got more left in you, little lion?”

Constantine wasn’t sure if the hands that helped him up were more friendly or rough, but his ears rang and his vision blurred. He tasted blood. He picked up his wooden sword, the end of it splintered. He wanted to face the crowd and see Kendrick’s smug face, wanted to spit blood and proof that he was no house cat, but the Cielan King was nowhere to be seen. “Until my last breath,” Constantine snarled.

Everlin smiled. “That’s the idea, Your Majesty.”

The sun arched higher. Bruises blossomed. The line in the water broke from a large fish, snapping through the unattended line in the midst of the fight. Constantine could no longer see, sand and blood and tears forming a paste around his eyes. His arms swung again and again, his head throbbed, his knees shook. He hit the ground. He got up. Parry. Counter. Pain. He hit the ground. He got to his knees, but his legs would allow nothing further. The sun burned at its zenith. His body burned.

He hit the ground.

Constantine waited for a blow that never came. He took in a shuddering breath, but instead of laughter from the soldiers, his dull headache throbbed in time with shouts and calls, whistles breaking the stillness of the river. He measured his breath. His hands twitched, dully trying to remember. Parry. Counter. Step. He was still on his back. He pawed at his eyes, digging splinters deeper into his raw palms. One eye remained swollen shut, but the other cracked open, blinded by the cheerful sun.

“Con!”

Sand clouded the sunlight as Delgos slid to his knees beside the King, cradling his face in his hands. “Con, oh Gods what did they do to you?” Familiar fingers soothed over his bruised cheeks, and Constantine was sure that this was blissful death, and he didn’t care. If Delgos was there with him, then he would walk any bridge, no matter where it led. His bloody lips twitched, longing to smile in relief, and he let himself fall into the beckoning blackness at last.

When Constantine woke, he was certain he wasn’t dead; after all, the dead didn’t feel pain. His groan of protest was met with a soft touch, and he turned his cheek towards the press of Delgos’ calloused hand.

“Don’t move too much, Your Majesty. You’re safe,” Delgos assured, lips close to Constantine’s ear. “You’re safe.”

Safe, and if he shifted just enough he could feel that he was stripped of his filthy clothes, balm applied to his bruises, and open wounds wrapped with fresh cloth. More importantly, Delgos sat beside him. Alive. Safe.

Constantine choked, and when the first sob bubbled in his throat, Delgos was there, climbing onto the bed with him to cradle him in his lap.

“I thought you were dead,” Constantine rasped, his dry throat protesting each word, still feeling as if it were full of sand and splinters.

“Well, I thought you were dead as well, so we’re even,” Delgos soothed, sliding fingers into his dark hair and kissing his brow. “I rallied the men, and we drove the dragons back to the border. I’m sure they’ll be back again, but for now–”

Constantine pulled him closer by his collar, kissing him with bruised lips. “For now,” he whispered, “we still have breath to fight.”

Tag list: @wri-tten @gingerly-writing @knightedwriter @merigreenleaf @halfbloodlycan @lady-redshield-writes @lux-scriptum @golden-eyed-writer @theguildedtypewriter @homesteadhorner @perringwrites @no-url-ideas-tho @msmeaghanrey @haphazardlyparked @kaypier @cogesque @gettingitwrite @coppercreationcreator @sheeplymade @andtheotherwriter @herbs-and-syrup @arwallace @cyberphuck @writerightmegpie @panhasablog @she-writes-love @rrrawrf-writes @sheralynnramsey @katerinarevel

[the-everlasting-dream]

Toska - Liam x MC [x Drake], TRR AU

Part 1 of Unfathomable

Summary: The day they turned the life support off.

A/N: I’ve been waiting to write this for the longest time (am I a sadist for wanting to torture my own characters?) We’re gonna cover the hard stuff in this series so please heed the trigger warnings and have tissues ready.

Word Count: 5000+

Warnings: Grief, description of injury, trauma (various), violence (Liz very mildly grabs a doctor), major character death. Please do not read if uncomfortable.

Permanent tags:  @chantelle-x0x , @choicessa, @meeraaverywalker , @drakewalkerwhipped , @quartzandarrow ,  @mfackenthal , @srawesleyghuewrites , @topsyturvy-dream , @enmchoices , @gardeningourmet @debramcg1106 , @alesana45 , @meladoridarcy, @blackcatkita , @tmarie82 , @annekebbphotography , @lizk77 , @jayjay879 , @tornbetween2loves @akrenich ,

Series tags:  @mrsdrakewalkerblog , @ooo-barff-ooo ,

TRR only: @speedyoperarascalparty Drake: @fairydustandsarcasm

Toska

noun /ˈtō-skə/ - Russian 

Roughly translated as sadness, melancholia, lugubriousness. 

"No single word in English renders all the shades of toska. At its deepest and most painful, it is a sensation of great spiritual anguish, often without any specific cause.” - Vladimir Nobokov. 

-

Liam stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his collar. Today wasn’t going to be easy. 

 He stared into his own blue eyes hoping the reflection he saw staring back could give him some answer to the hundreds of thoughts pressed on his mind. 

It had been almost eight weeks after the terrorist attack on Homecoming Ball that had shaken Cordonia, leaving the country in near chaos after the monarchy attacked in their own home. The last two months had been devoted purely to damage control and recovery protocols initiated to stabilise the country and deal with the devastating threat on the nation’s security. 

Looking back on it, Liam realised that he’d had to make more hard calls and negotiate more compromises during his short time as king than any other monarch in Cordonia’s history. There were approvals that needed to be signed, protocols that needed to be approved, documents that needed to be amended, the list was endless… 

Despite this a thousand decisions still rested on his shoulders and even more were on their way but none so grave as the one he had to make today...  

Liam had seen his fair share of struggles between an attack on him and his family and his own mothers assassination but never in his twenty-nine years of life did he think he’d have to make a decision about his best friend’s life. 

Drake had been on life support for almost two months now after taking a bullet meant for Elizabeth Richmond during the chaos of the attack on the palace during the Homecoming Ball. He’d been receiving around the clock care from the best medical practitioner’s Cordonia had to offer but late last night to inform him that there had been a drop in Drake’s brain activity in the past day. 

The doctor had requested Drake’s closest family and friends to come to the hospital to discuss further options. She’d used a pleasant tone but something in her voice told Liam to prepare for the worst. After thanking her, he'd sat in silence at his desk, head hung, reflecting on what her words what this would mean. An unfathomable sadness had welled up in him at the prospect of losing his best friend. 

This was Drake. Drake Walker. His best friend and fiercest protector.

For as long as he could remember, Drake had been a permanent fixture in his life since they were boys. They’d gone through the gauntlet together many times over and Liam had always known without a doubt that he’d be able to count on Drake if he ever needed. If anyone could have survived taking a bullet it was him. 

 After what could have been hours - he’d lost all sense of time - he’d picked up his phone and dialled Elizabeth, knowing she’d be furious if he didn’t tell her. As the phone rang he wasn’t sure if she’d pick up at the late hour but she answered on the fourth ring.  

‘Liam?’ 

He could hear the worry in her sleepy voice, he knew she knew he wouldn’t have called if it was urgent. Perhaps it was selfish of him to want to get it over and done with as he swiftly relayed the doctor’s message in as few words as possible. On the other end of the phone Liam had felt her silence growing heavier and heavier, he could practically see the tension wracking her frame as she listened. 

He’s been about to ask if she was okay but stopped himself, her silence told him more than words ever could. He wanted to say something, anything, but his tongue felt like lead in his mouth. 

What would he have said anyway? 

She’d just been given the news that the man she loved might be on the brink of death. So they sat there until the silence got too much to bear and eventually Liam had heard her swallow hard and thank him stiffly, informing him in a voice laden with emotion that she’d meet him at the hospital tomorrow morning.

-

Now Liam stared into the mirror again, nervously adjusting his cuffs, unable to stop his mind from returning to her again. His feelings towards Elizabeth were… complicated at best. He cursed himself for the hundredth time, for being too blind, too stupidly in love to see that she was falling for his best friend. 

Was it even love? he wondered. Was it love when he only got to see the side of her she presented to the outside world? 

She’d revealed a little of herself in the little moments they’d stolen in between but between royal obligations, her scandal and his engagement to Madeleine, these moments had been few and far between. 

On the other hand, Drake hadn’t been been bound by any of these and maybe that’s what had made all the difference. A difference Liam hadn’t realised until he was down on one knee, ready to offer Elizabeth the world, only for her to crush his hopes by admitting what he’d been too blind to see. 

That, however, had not made him stop loving her. He loved her, god he loved her so much, almost as much as it hurt that she’d never love him same way. 

That hadn’t meant it wouldn’t hurt. It hurt like a bitch to see the truth finally out in the open. But he swallowed. He swallowed his feelings and put on a brave face and told her he was happy for her, even though they both knew it was a goddamn lie. He had to be happy for her, for them. 

 This was Drake. Drake Walker. His best friend and fiercest protector. 

 How could he feel anything other than happiness for the two people he loved most in the world? 

A sharp knock interrupted his thoughts and Liam took a moment to compose himself as best he could before instructing whoever it was to enter. His eyebrows rose when the door opened to reveal Constantine. 

 ‘Father.’ The word was meant to be a greeting but it came out more like a question. 

 ‘Son,’ Constantine began, taking a seat on the chair in behind him. ‘I was hoping to catch you before you went to the hospital.’ 

Liam eyed him carefully. His relationship with his father had not been the same since he’d learn about his hand in Elizabeth’s scandal and he’d noticed himself keeping the king father at arms length despite his illness. 

 'I was just about to leave for the hospital.’ He announced, his meaning clear, tone communicating a slight irritation at the interruption. 

 ’Then I’m glad I caught you,’ Constantine eased himself into the armchair and dropped his gaze to the floor, his demeanour pensive as he paused. 'Liam… son... I need to speak with you. It concerns the safety of Cordonia.'

Liam almost raised an eyebrow at the seriousness in his tone — for once Constantine had deemed sending threats to potential suitors a matter of Cordonia’s safety — but held his tongue and waited. 

’Son, I’m sure you don’t need an old man like me to tell you that this country is headed towards chaos. The attack on the palace has made it seem like the monarchy is on the brink of ruin. And it is our job — yours particularly — to prevent this from happening. We should be projecting a strong image to the public in this time of distress…’ 

 Liam frowned. His father was obviously dancing around the point he’d come to make ‘What are you saying?’ 

‘I’m saying… I think this may be a good time to consider choosing a wife. Perhaps Duchess Elizabeth. She’d be a favourable match, she’s gained an excellent understanding of our country, the media adore her and she’d —' 

‘What?!?’ Liam interjected, feeling anger bubbling up inside him, not bothering to hide his disgust at Constantine’s words.. ‘Father how can you- how can you even suggest that?’  

Not long ago the King Father would have given anything to see Elizabeth gone from their country and now he was pushing them to get married? 

‘Liam…'

‘Father do you realise what you’re saying?’ Liam was pacing now, unable to believe his ears. ‘You despise her. In fact a few months ago, you spearheaded a plot to disgrace her and now you want to see her as queen? I’m sorry but I don’t follow.' 

The King Father sighed again, rubbing absentmindedly at his chest. ‘Liam I know how it sounds but hear me out… I’m an old man. I’m not going to be around much longer and I can’t with good conscience leave this country without a stable future…' ‘

Are you saying I’m not stable enough?’ It brought Liam a slight pleasure to see his father shrink a little at his tone. 

‘My boy that’s not what I-‘ 

’Then what did you mean?’ 

‘I’m merely putting forward Duchess Elizabeth as the best candidate for Queenship. The press adore her and its obvious to anyone that she’s got a way with the people that Olivia Nevrakis and Madeleine Krona will never have. We need to project a strong image of the monarchy to our people, let them know that in the face of tragedy, there is still hope.' 

 ‘And you truly believe Elizabeth is the best way to do that?’ Liam offered hostilely. 

It burned his tongue to speak of her in such a way, in a marriageable way after… well... 

 Constantine was already nodding. ‘I know I may have been wrong in the past and despite his best efforts to thwart her Duchess Elizabeth has seems to have some sort of… endurance that has gotten her to where she is.’ Liam watched the King Father, rub absentmindedly at his chest as he gazed off. 'Our country could use some of her enduring quality right now.'  

Liam could hear the truth in his father’s words. He wasn’t wrong. He just didn’t know what had happened. That she loved Drake and not him. 

He allowed himself a few moments to compose himself before speaking. ‘And what if I refuse?' 

Shock splashed across the former king’s face. ‘Refu- Liam I don’t understand…. You love her, she loves you. I’m merely suggesting what would have happened months ago if it wasn’t for me… I can’t fathom why you’re being so resistant to this… This seems like the ideal situation for you. It's what you wanted right?’ 

It was. It was what he wanted. He’d laid in bed, thinking of it, dreaming of it every night since the day he met her and... even after the day she’d rejected him.

 Suddenly he saw the entire future panned out before him. Elizabeth would be walking down the aisle in her big white dress for their perfect wedding, they’d become man and wife and she’d rule by his side from that day forward. He could picture her talking down stubborn senators and negotiating difficult reforms and after it was over, they’d bid farewell to the day in each other’s arms. 

He could hear the laughter of the children they could have echoing through the palace and the pitter-patter of footsteps as they chased each other through the maze. He could almost feel the creases that would form next to her eyes after years together but he’d still think she was the most beautiful creature he’d ever laid eyes on as he kiss- 

‘Your Majesty,’ a servant’s voice broke Liam out of his fantasy. ‘The royal motorcade is ready for you sire.’ 

‘Yes of course,’ he answered, immediately snapping back into his role as he straighten his collar and made to head to the door when a hand on his arm made him pause. 

 ‘Think about it son. That’s all I ask.’ 

 Liam could barely find it within himself to nod, rushing out before the tears could spill.

-

Though he’d come to visit countless times over the last two months, Liam never failed to be shocked at the sight of Drake lying on that hospital bed. 

He gazed at his best friend, alarmingly thin and deathly pale under the flimsy material of the hospital gown they’d dressed him in. The bandages no longer covered his entire chest but were reduced to a small gauze patch over the stitched up bullet hole. Hundred of tubes connected him to various machines surrounding the bed including the ventilator which sat beeping quietly in the corner. Liam gulped at the sight of him. 

 This was Drake. Drake Walker. His best friend and fiercest protector. 

 He knew Drake would have defended him tooth and nail if required but when the time came, he, Liam, had failed to do the same. 

He couldn’t bear to look at his best friend, the shame was too great, and shifted his gaze over to Elizabeth, seated on the bed beside Drake, her fingers, gently brushing a few strands of hair from his face. 

The way she looked at him, it was like rejection all over again and Liam could possibly fathom how he was going to convince this amazing woman to marry him. Elizabeth was never his to begin with and even if she did agree, Liam knew he would feel like the wrong man for the rest of his life, sealed as her husband only by the blessing of a priest and a few strokes on paper, nothing else. 

  Could he live with that?

Liam didn’t have time to dwell on it when a doctor appeared at his side.

’Your Majesty the healthcare team is here for the consultation.' He nodded once and followed her to a small conference room, Elizabeth following a minute later.��

‘Your Majesty, Your Grace thank you for coming on such short notice,’ the head doctor stated. 

 Elizabeth leaned forward. ‘We came as soon as you called. You said there’s an update? How’s he doing?’ 

‘Well,’ the doctor began. ‘ As you know Mr Walker has been on IV and receiving extra oxygen in the entire time he’s been here. After the extreme blood loss he experienced following the gunshot wound, it was likely that he would have experienced some brain damage despite the blood transfusions he received. And according to His Majesty’s instructions we have been monitoring his brain activity hourly but yesterday we noticed an steep drop in brain activity. The subsequent neurological testing.’ 

She passed a piece of paper with the test results to them, ’Showed decreased sign in brain activity which usually means that while the basic brain functions like heart rate, digestion and sleep patterns have been retained, unfortunately the higher order functions have been lost.' 

 ‘I-I don’t underst- I don’t understand,’ Elizabeth put in shakily. ‘What higher order functions?’ 

 ‘Capabilities like memory, cognition, thinking, attention, perception, language even have been lost.’ 

Liam couldn’t help but glance at Elizabeth, the strain of the doctors words hitting them both but her fingers remained wrapped so tightly around the sheet of paper, it began to tear. 

 ‘Our medical team here can provide you with the results of the other tests we carried out,’ the doctor gestured to her colleagues but Elizabeth interrupted, her voice low and firm. 

 ‘How long?’ 

‘Your Grace, once the higher order functions have been lost, we must declare the patient brain dead. We should discuss shutting off life support.’ 

The statement hit Liam like a boulder to the chest but before he could form a complete thought, Elizabeth was already on her feet, glaring down at the doctor. 

’No!’ She shouted. ’No we are NOT turning off the life support! There’s got to be something you can do! You’ve-you’ve-you've fucked up the test somehow! He’s not brain dead! I-I-I refuse to believe that! You’re not doing all you can.  I mean its the twenty-first century for fucks sake! There’s gotta be some sort of test or procedure you can do...’ 

The head doctor remained unperturbed by Elizabeth’s outburst and evenly replied. ‘We’ve exhausted all our options Your Grace. We’re are unable to comply with any advanced directive trying to require that Mr Walker be kept on life support after being declared brain dead. We cannot and do not usually provide futile care. It is generally accepted that once a person is brain dead, they are essentially dead.’

’No! No, you’re-you’re lying!’ Desperate tears streamed down Elizabeth’s face as she grabbed the doctor by her shirt in anger. ‘You have to do something,’ she screeched. ‘The man I love is in there and I-I-I need him to wake up so I can tell him that! You need to get him to wake up!’ 

‘I’m sorry Your Grace, there’s nothing more we can do for him,’ the doctor replied calmly despite her outburst. 

Elizabeth let out a scream of frustration that shocked Liam out of his stupor and he immediately sprung to his feet, wrestling the doctor’s shirt from her hands. 

‘Elizabeth, Elizabeth,’ Liam tried to look into her eyes, attempting to restrain her struggling form as she glared at the doctor, knowing that if he let go she might have pounced on her. ‘Elizabeth look at me.’ 

‘Liam do something!’ she yelled, trying to twist out of his steel grip. ‘You’re the fucking king. Order that bitch to do something! They just wanna let him die!’ 

She was stronger than she looked as she almost broke out of his grip, throwing her arm out to the doctor, nails flashing on empty air as she swiftly evaded her reach. Bastien and Mara who were in the room too came forward to help Liam restrain her but he shook his head. 

‘Elizabeth listen to me,’ he commanded in his kingly tone. ’The doctors have done everything they can for Drake okay? Do you really think I would have let them leave any stone unturned? They’ve done everything. There’s nothing more we can do okay?’

It killed him to see her like this, with hot tears pouring down her as she struggled more weakly against his grip. 

‘Liam please, please don’t let them do it,’ she begged, grabbing onto his lapels twisting the material between her white-knuckled hands as tears streamed down her face. The desperation in her voice was so deep it almost broke him as she implored him with big brown watery eyes. 

‘Liam please... I’m not ready to let him go. Please I-I have to.. to tell him I-’ She cut herself off, drawing a huge ragged breath.   

‘Elizabeth…’ Liam had never felt so useless in his entire life. 

He was the king of an entire nation but even he was powerless to do anything. To see her like this was nothing less than excruciating but what was he to say? The doctors had already told them everything they could, he’d only be repeating their condemning sentence, driving the nail in deeper. 

‘Liz…’ he began hesitantly, unsure of what to say, ‘…if I could do anything... you know I would...' 

Though he'd attempted for a more comforting approach but he couldn’t quite hide the hopelessness in his voice. Immediately her knees buckled and he struggled to support her as she rested her forehead on his chest in a sign of complete and utter defeat. It was the single saddest thing he’d ever seen in his life. A woman so broken over the man she loved, she could barely find the strength to hold herself up. 

Before Liam could bring his arms up around her body to provide what comfort he could, Elizabeth ripped herself away to burst out of the room.

'Liam, is-is there nothing..?’ Maxwell met him at the door, obviously having heard the entire exchange from outside but cut himself off when the king turned to look at him, his blue gaze holding the answer no one wanted to voice out loud.   

‘Oh,’ the younger Beaumont dropped his eyes to the ground. ‘Please excuse me.’ 

Liam looked forlornly after his friend who could scarcely make it to the end of the hallway without bursting into tears. 

His feet took him back to the room where Elizabeth was currently sobbing on Drake’s chest, arms clasped firmly around his neck as if she could bring him back by sheer force of will. It was only when Hana’s soft hand touched his arm lightly that Liam finally broke down into tears and though they’d never been close he accepted her hug. 

 This is Drake. Drake Walker. His best friend and fiercest protector. 

 The only person who had been there for him in the darkest hour, always ready with a sarcastic comment, a glass of whiskey and a listening ear. Drake had given up a chance at his own life for Liam all those years ago and just when he seemed on the cusp of beginning afresh with Elizabeth…   

Liam sobbed harder into Hana’s shoulder, not caring if he ruined her dress now — he’d buy her another one to replace it — but now he was just grateful for the company. Through the open door of the hospital room, Liam could hear Elizabeth’s words as she talked out loud. 

 ‘— will always love you Drake,’ she was saying. ‘And only you for the rest of my life. You are the love of my life Drake Walker and my life’s regret will be not telling you earlier…' 

Breaking out of Hana’s grip, Liam blindly stalked off, letting his feet carry him whatever direction they wished until he reached an open balcony somewhere in the hospital. The wind whipped at his face as he stared up into the sky, devoid of any cloud as if mocking him. It should be raining, storming, hailing anything to reflect the inner turmoil he was feeling. With a deep breath of cool air rushing into his lungs, he opened his mouth ready to unleash a bellow that would have echoed off the very mountain stops across the country but paused, painfully aware of the security camera trained on his every move, ready to capture visual footage of the king losing his mind as he yelled at the empty air. 

Instead Liam did what he always did. He’d learned long ago that he was a king first then a man and because of that some of his human tendencies would have to take a back seat. Deep breaths, eyes closed, feet together until he felt the uncontrollable anger dissipated and his vision cleared.

That did nothing to soothe the ache of his heart, however. It still beat, however brokenly, pumping what felt like shards of broken glass into his veins. 

This is it, he realised. This is the end. We’re really going to do this.

 In the months that followed the attack, some small part of him had hoped that Drake would come out okay. Liam had placed him in the best hospital with the best doctors working around the clock with state-of-the-art technology to bring him back but the doctor’s words hollowed out his soul. 

 “The higher order functions have been lost, we must declare the patient brain dead.” 

 Dead. 

 This is Drake. Drake Walker. His best friend and fiercest protector. 

 Drake of all people would be most likely to survive a bullet wound. So many things came bubbling up to the surface.  They’d barely talked since Liam had proposed. He had Drake’s avoidant tendencies to thank for that. 

God Drake had probably taken that shot, thinking that he, Liam, must have hated his guts for stealing the woman that they both loved. Knowing Drake he would have tried to fight his feelings for the longest time and knowing Elizabeth she wouldn’t have made that easy. So many things he should have done, he should have said. 

Goddamn it if it was too late, Liam was going to say it now. 

 Rushing back, he ran into the very person he was hoping to avoid, Elizabeth and for a long moment they just looked at each other. 

 ‘Savannah’s in there with Bartie,’ she informed him hollowly. ‘They’ve put his mum on the phone so she can say goodbye.’ 

‘I…uh…' 

Unable to form words, Liam dropped into a chair outside the door and a beat later, Elizabeth followed suit. Liam thought of his father’s suggestion and how part of him wanted to desperately to act on it, if not for the guilt in the other half of him. 

He wanted Elizabeth so badly, but not like this. 

 He wanted her to choose him, freely. Not like this… 

The heavy silence lasted and she seemed to be mustering up the courage to say something. But what? There was nothing to say. They both knew what was coming. 

 She finally opened her mouth ‘Liam I’m-' 

The moment was shattered as door creaked open and a tearful Savannah exited with Bartie wrapped in her arms. Liam shot to his feet. Whatever Elizabeth was going to say could waits he entered the room, closing the door behind him. 

 His best friend’s pale face has an eerie glow thrown across it but the fluorescent lights above and Liam inched his way slowly to the bedside chair.

‘I’m sorry Drake…’ Liam burst out, his voice laced with tears. ‘I failed you. I failed everyone, my parents, my country, my friends, my best friend… I am the king of an entire nation and I still couldn’t protect you.’ He reached out tot grip the other man’s hand, slightly colder than normal. 

 ‘You’re my best friend. You should be here and I should be there. Those bullets were meant for me, not you. You should be here,’ he swallowed heavily, the words sticking in his throat. 

‘With her. She loves you, so, so much. I know you love her. And so do I. I’m sorry I stood in the way of you two getting together. If I had known maybe I could have protected you, or-or-or,’ Liam paused, sobs wracking his body. 

‘My father wants me to marry her,’ he told his best friend, voice barely above a whisper. ‘He said she’d make a good queen and maybe she would. But she was never mine to begin with. Her heart will always be yours. I still don’t know what I’m going to do. How can I marry the woman in love with my best friend?’ Liam squeezed his hand tighter. 

‘I wish you would come back. Come back and take this choice away from me. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if she’ll say yes. I mean how could she?’

His blue eyes rested on Drake’s face, silently begging, pleading for an answer but none came. 

‘I’ll take care of her Drake,’ he vowed. ‘Even if she says yes or not, I’ll see that she’s always well looked after. She’ll never be wanting for anything. If I do ask her and she does say yes, I’ll be the best husband I can be. Elizabeth will always be yours, Drake and I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to live up to your example.'

Liam felt a tiny part of the huge weight on his shoulders dissipate slightly and when a small knock reached his ears, his voice was steady enough to answer without breaking. 

 ‘Come in.’ 

 ‘Your Majesty.’ It was the head doctor again. ‘We’re ready to perform the procedure, if you are.’ 

He wiped the tears that escaped with the back of his hand and nodded. The shuffling of feet indicated that his friends entered the room, Hana, Maxwell, Bastien, Bertrand, Savannah and… Elizabeth. Liam moved to vacate the chair he was sitting on but she made a passive motion, situating herself on the opposite side closer to Drake. She looked at him with such love and sadness that Liam automatically felt like an outsider, like this was a special moment he was intruding on. Her lips moved but he didn’t have to look to know what she was saying. 

  I love you so, so much. 

Savannah came to rest her hand on her brother's shoulder while the other found its way to Liam’s, giving him a reassuring  squeeze before addressing the doctor. ‘Will it hurt?’ 

She shook her head. ‘It will be like falling asleep. Once we turn the ventilator off, he’ll just stop breathing naturally...' 

Elizabeth made a sound in her throat at that but managed to compose herself aside from the tears pouring down her face.  Leaning in, Liam and everyone else watched her kiss Drake’s still form ever so softly before resting her forehead against his, her tears dripping onto his face until they looked like his own..

‘Do it,’ she commanded, giving the doctor the signal. 

And just like that, is turned into was. 

Liam marvelled at how quickly the process was over, how with a simple turning of a dial, a whole life was extinguished just like that. Nothing could have prepared him for this. As his mind replayed all the good memories of his best friend, Liam gripped Drake’s motionless hand desperately, not wanting to feel his shallow pulse fade out into nothing. Savannah began to lean on him more and more, gradually failing to support herself. 

 They all watched with bated breath as the gentle rise and fall of Drake’s chest slowly evened out and before it could fade out completely, Elizabeth pressed her lips to his again, one last time. In his distant hearing, Liam detected the steady sound of the heart rate monitor flatlining, cementing that it really was over now. 

No one said anything — no one needed to, they all filed out, one by one in their own time, in their own way until it was just Liam and Elizabeth left, her quiet sobs the only sounds filling the room, while Liam could barely keep his suppressed. 

Eventually, he too got up, more out of duty than anything but paused in the doorway to glance back at Elizabeth’s sobbing form. 

'I’ll take her home,' Hana offered, noting his concern and Liam nodded in reply, not trusting himself to speak.

This was Drake. Drake Walker. His best friend and fiercest protector.

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