#and like. in my mind i was like. i wish anton was here comforting me instead | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blueberrybeomgyu · 24 days

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୨⎯ "insomnia" ⎯୧ (lcy)

+*:🍓:*﹤descrip. : you help anton after a rough, sleepless week

+*:💗:*﹤content : sub!anton x fem!reader/dom!reader (i think), smut, roommates/friends to lovers

+*:🫐:*﹤warnings : 18+, so mdni 🤞(there are some really bad words in here), unprotected sex bc i forgot to add any </3 (please use protection), edging, wet dreams, overstim kinda, palming over clothes, blowjob, light nipple touching, petname babyboy, anton calls reader noona, vaginal penetration, female anatomy for reader, clit rubbing

+*:🧺:*﹤word count: 5.0K

+*:🤎:*﹤author's note : pls lmk if i missed any tags i should add! this is my first ff so it's lacking, but i tried my best to fix up any obvious plotholes!! i'm a year older than anton so i just made y/n older as well <3 this story switches povs bc im unprofessional, lastly this was cross-posted on ao3!!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Anton can't sleep.

He tosses and turns just to wake up two hours later, hot, sweaty, and heaving. He writes it off as having nightmares, but that doesn’t explain the hard-ons he always has. He considers getting one off to help him relax, and that works for the first two nights. Then, in the days that follow, it's like no matter how long he goes at it, getting himself all whiny and desperate, he can't cum. That realization only makes it harder to stay asleep, lucky if he dozes off for forty minutes.

It's so aggravating. During lecture, he can barely keep his eyes open, but when his head hits the pillow, it's like he can't shut his mind up.

Tonight, he gives up around 1 AM after going in and out of sleep for an entire hour. He's restless but exhausted, and his mood is shot when you walk in the apartment. You had a long shift, so you can’t wait to snuggle in bed and watch a couple of comfort movies. You stop by the kitchen on your way to your room, unable to ignore your roommate's quiet grumbles.

“Anton?” You call out, but his back is turned toward you, and he's still mumbling to himself, fiddling with a container.

“Sweetheart, is everything alright?” You ask, placing an arm on his shoulder and gently turning him toward you.

“m fine, can't get this stupid box open.” He mumbles grumpily. In his hands, a box of hot cocoa packets is bent out of shape. You look at him in question (how did he bend the box like that? They aren't hard to open), but your attention is instead drawn to his features.

To put it short, he looks terrible. His eyes are puffy and red like he's been crying, his hair is tangled like he hasn't brushed it in days, and his oversized shirt is hanging off his shoulder, wrinkled and stretched out like he’s been pulling at it.

“Do you need help?” You reach for the box, but he moves out of your way, tucking the box to himself protectively as he continues struggling with it.

Anton knows he looks stupid, struggling to open this goddamn box, but ever since his problem of not getting off started, he hasn't been able to look you in the eyes. Every time you guys make eye contact, he feels ashamed.

What’s frustrating is that he doesn’t know why. You're beautiful, and he can't lie and say he's not attracted to you, but he's never thought about you in a sexual way, because he’s put in great effort to not do so.

So why is it hard to be around you all of a sudden? He can’t help but feel sad about the circumstances, as he was enjoying the friendship you two had been building for the past three months.

“I got it.” He mutters again, tone sharp and stern. You watch him for a couple seconds and conclude that he doesn't in fact have it.

“Are you sure, Toni? I can-”

“I said I've got it.” He snaps, voices suddenly raised and face scrunched up in annoyance. You slightly flinch at his outburst, a wave of your own irritation washing over you.

“Excuse me?” You ask, offended by his tone. His face falls and he turns away from you again. Seconds later, his shoulders begin to shake with his sobs.

He wishes you would leave him alone, because having your eyes on him makes him feel things he can’t explain. He just wants to have some hot cocoa, get off, then go the fuck to sleep.

“Oh, Toni.” You coo, mood softening as you begin rubbing his back. “What's the matter?”

You and Anton aren’t extremely close, and not by lack of trying. You’re so attracted to him, but love being his friend and don’t want to mess it up by asking him out. Despite that, you've never seen him in this state before. His usually cheerful, even charismatic personality is completely gone, turned into something snappy and miserable.

“I'm so tired.” He says, his voice shaky and so quiet you almost don’t hear him. The palms of his hands come to rub his eyes aggressively. “Can't sleep, no matter what I do.”

You wonder how long he had to be in this state to be acting like this, feeling a bit guilty that you hadn't noticed the signs earlier. You think for a second about how to help.

“I was going to go watch some movies in bed.” You offer after a few moments of silence. “Do you want to join me? It might be nice to have some company for a little bit.”

He lowers his hands from his eyes and thinks about your offer. You guys have huddled in bed for movies before, so it isn’t a wild suggestion, and your bed is always so warm, multiple blankets and plushies adding extra cushion. He turns around, ignoring the heavy feeling he gets from looking at you.

“Here, I'll even make this for you.” You gently remove the box from his hands, ripping its cardboard flap and opening it with ease. He looks at you in surprise for a second, then nods.

“Okay, why don't you go get settled and I'll be there in a minute?”

He pads softly to your room, shoulders slumped and feet dragging.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

Anton is buried underneath your duvet and blankets, only his eyes up to his forehead visible when you walk into your bedroom.

“Comfy, are we?” You ask with a light chuckle, reaching out to hand him his cocoa. He sits up in bed and takes the mug. After changing into pajamas in the bathroom, you settle into your own space and pull up a selection of movies on your phone.

“How's The Cat Returns?” You ask, watching as he downs the drink and snuggles back into the sheets.

“Fine.” He mumbles, eyes droopy. You feel bad for him again, hoping he'll be able to get some sleep tonight.

You get through that and a third of Coraline when you hear Anton huff loudly. You glance down to see that he's snuggled up by your chest, eyes shut and breath even. He’s never slept in your bed before, but you don’t want to wake him up from some much needed rest. You take a moment to appreciate his beauty. In the glow from your bedside lamp, you can see his rosy cheeks and furrowed eyebrows, and your heart swells with fondness. Maybe this will make you guys even closer. You smile in triumph and continue the movie.

Ten minutes later, you hear it. You ignore it the first time, but it happens again soon after. Anton lets out a faint whimper. For a second, you think he's talking to you, but he doesn't respond when you call out his name. Instead, he full-on moans.

“N-noona.” He mumbles. The blankets have fallen from his chest and pooled around his pelvis, and you see his hips twitch slightly. “Please…”

Was he…having a wet dream?

Surely not, you tell yourself. The circumstances of this happening are quite unlikely.

“Y/N…need you.” He whines quietly, and your eyes jump to the size of saucers.

He was having a wet dream about you?!

Your cheeks heat up, feeling flattered but scandalized. He doesn't say anything else, but his breath picks up rapidly, becoming more choked off as it progresses. Seconds later, he jerks awake, gasping and panting, his fingers tangled into the blankets. You watch as he squeezes his eyes shut and tries to slow down his breath. Then, he opens them again and looks up from your chest.

“Oh, Noona, did I wake you? I'm sorry.” He asks, voice thick and words slurred.

You ignore the way hearing him call you that now makes you hot all over, arousal manifesting in your panties. He sits up with messy hair and puffy cheeks. Is he just going to pretend like he wasn't dreaming about you?

“What?” You scoff, a smile tugging at your lips. You can't help but laugh at how weird this situation was.

“Sorry for disturbing you, I'll head back to my room now.” You watch in disbelief as he sluggishly stands up from the bed and not-so subtly covers his boner with his large shirt.

The truth is, Anton can't wait to get out of your vicinity. Your scent is stuck to his clothes, and he doesn't know why he likes it so much. That shameful feeling is back, and he wants it off his skin.

“Wait, Anton.” You call out, dropping your phone on the sheets and just barely catching his wrist.

Shit. He turns back to you, eyes falling to your mouth, and he could've sworn you were almost…smirking?

“Did you get to sleep?” You ask, but your eyes lack genuine curiosity.

“Oh, yeah, I guess I did.” He answers awkwardly, looking everywhere but your eyes. He’s so cute, and his nervousness makes you feel empowered.

“What did you dream about?”

“What?” He looks at you finally with a look of confusion.

“Dreams? Did you have any?” You slowly lead him to sit back down. He follows easily, pulled back onto your soft, comfortable blankets.

“Uhm, no, not that I remember.”

“You can't remember what you dreamt about?” You ask, incredulous. He looks away for a second, thinking, then turns back to you and shakes his head.

“I think I've been having nightmares a lot recently. I keep waking up on the verge of a panic attack.” He explains. You hum in contemplation. You can’t help but wonder if any more of these “nightmares” have actually been wet dreams, and if so, how many of them have been about you.

Slowly, your hand trailed along his thigh, and you delight in the sound of his breath hitching. His body is tense, eyes looking at you in question. “But that's alright, I guess I don't w-want to if they were that scary.” He stutters as your hand trails higher and higher. You’re giving him a sultry look, and he wonders if this is going where he thinks it’s going, and is surprised to realize maybe he wants it to go there, despite it being so sudden.

“That's interesting, because I think I know what you dreamt about, and why you can't get to sleep.” You say, circling your finger around a spot right on his hip. They twitch under your touch, and you almost coo again watching him try to restrain himself.

You’re not sure where you suddenly got the nerve to act like this, but you say to hell with it. You’ve been harboring a crush on him ever since you became his roommate, and he obviously shares the same desire, if his subconscious is anything to go off of. His shy demeanor only makes you more confident. You move on from his hip and slide a hand up his loose shirt.

Anton’s almost relieved by your statement—he wants almost nothing more than to have a full night's rest—but he finds it hard to focus on your words as your nails lightly scrape his skin. His eyelids flutter prettily.

“When was the last time you came?” You ask abruptly, causing Anton’s eyes to snap open.

“I’m sorry?”

“You likely can't go to sleep because you're so tense. When you do, you can't stay asleep because you keep having wet dreams about me that eventually wake you back up.” You’re not sure if the last part is true, but that’s your working theory. You watch as he struggles to comprehend your statement as you graze a couple of fingers over his nipple, voice catching in a gasp.

“What are you talking about? I'm not even having inappropriate thoughts about you.” He defends, because he tries so hard to not have inappropriate thoughts about you. He doesn’t want to be a pervert and take advantage of the friendship you guys have, so he pushes away any sexual thoughts that creep up in his mind. Sometimes it’s so hard, but he values your company so much, and doesn’t want to upset you.

“Oh, yeah? So when you moaned, ‘Y/N noona, I need you’ in your sleep, you weren't having inappropriate thoughts about me?” You ask, over-exaggerating the way he moaned. His eyes squeeze shut at the feeling of you tugging on his nipple, then you trail your hand back down to lightly trace his bulge. His hips lift towards your hand, and you pull it away.

Even in his aroused, half-asleep mind, your words make sense. Why he feels shame looking at you, why he’s always rock solid when he wakes up. It’s not a far fetch to think he’s been having sexual dreams, nor is it to wonder if those dreams are about you, since you’re the only person he’s been attracted to lately.

You wrap your hand around his member through his pants, snatching him out of his thoughts.

“F-fuck.” He gasps quietly, surprised at your actions. “What are you doing?”

“Did you think you could get off on the thought of me and I wouldn't take up the opportunity to finally fuck you?”

Questions swim around in his head. Have you been wanting to have sex with him? You’ve been thinking about him inappropriately this whole time? The mere idea of you finding him attractive gets him even more hot and bothered, but he has no time to dwell on these thoughts once you start palming him roughly through his sweatpants.

“Oh, g-god.” He whimpers out after a few minutes, hips finally bucking into your touch. “Please, ‘m close.” His breath quickens again, uneven and harsh like it was in his sleep. His cheeks are dusted with baby pink, embarrassed about how close he’s gotten so quick, but he can’t help it. You’re so beautiful and you’re touching him and he’s realizing maybe his feelings are bigger than he previously thought.

“You're gonna cum from humping my hand?” You ask, unimpressed. “We haven’t even started yet.”

Your words make him feel like he’s being boiled alive. Part of him can’t believe this is happening, but he’s so desperate to please you. Anton gasps, pushing his hips back onto the blankets to get away from the stimulation.

“Please, stop. Wanna last.” He begs. He’s so cute, all weak and compliant, and you want to tease him more, see how long he holds out, but you can tell how much he wants to last, so you relent. He mumbles weak “thank you”s as he comes from the edge, and once his breathing returns to normal, you straddle him. He opens his eyes and looks at you in question, audibly gulping when he sees your dark, hungry gaze. He starts a sentence, but you cut him off as you grind your cunt against his member.

“God, Y/N.” He groans, throwing his head back into the pillows.

“Sorry, you were saying?” You ask, giggling meanly. You keep the movement up, building a rhythm while watching him struggle to string words together.

“I can’t– ahh– can’t believe t-this is happening.” He manages, interrupted by a particularly rough grind. For a second, his head catches on the opening of your cunt, and even through two layers of clothing, the feeling has him reeling.

“Hm.” You sigh into the feeling and accept the fact that you were gonna have to throw these underwear away. “Why’s that?”

“You’re so pretty a-and nice and– Fuck, fuck, need you, please.” He whimpers out, echoing the words he spoke while asleep. You take in the sight of him, and he just looks so beautiful, brown hair fanning out beneath him. His lips are red from him biting them, and you can’t resist the temptation to lean down and kiss him. He tastes a little like the cocoa he had earlier.

It starts out slow, Anton taking a couple of seconds to comprehend the situation, overcome his shock, and actually kiss you back. Then it becomes more of him panting against your mouth, hips jerking erratically under your weight.

You still don’t want him to finish just yet, so you lift off of him and ignore the displeased whine he lets out. You pull his sweatpants off slowly while lightly scratching the skin of his thighs, reveling in the sharp gasp he takes. He’s so responsive, so fun to play with.

“Oh,” You whisper, shocked to realize he’s not wearing underwear. “So what’s this? Were you expecting to come in here and get your dick wet?” You ask in disbelief, eyeing his cock. It’s about average, but thick, and just thinking about having that in you has your pussy throbbing. You’re just teasing, but your words break Anton into a cold sweat.

“N-no! No– these are m-my pajamas.” He explains desperately, words clipping off into a whine as you lift his hard cock with two fingers then let it flop back down. You can’t help but be mesmerized by it. It was a deep shade of pink, almost red, and a white bead of precum was forming at the tip. You unconsciously lick your lips at the sight. You professionally move on from the fact that Anton doesn’t sleep with underwear on in favor of running your tongue across the slit of Anton’s dick.

He let out a choked sound and his hips jerk violently, but you’re able to back up before his penis collides with your nose.

“Toni, if you want me to touch you here, you have to be still.” You warn, one hand coming to rest on his hip.

“Sorry, sorry, I can do that. I can-” His rambling is cut off by you taking his entire head into your mouth. “Shit, shit, I– ‘m.” His hands come to tangle into your hair, but you pull off of his dick and place his arms back by his side. You don’t say anything, but you’re sure he gets the command.

“Gonna cum already, baby boy?” You ask teasingly, rubbing his wrists gently. His breath hitches at the pet name, and you make a mental note to revisit that later.

“No,” he mumbles defensively. Your eyebrow lifts in suspicion, but you take his word for it.

“If you get close, let me know, okay?” You hold eye contact while saying it, and he responds with a nod. “No, baby. Answer with your words. Can you do that for me?”

“I’ll let you know, promise.” He says, nodding quickly, so desperate to get your mouth back on his dick. You’re not sure how much you believe him, but you oblige, slowly taking his member into your mouth inch by inch. Since he’s on the shorter side, it doesn’t take long for you to bottom out, his tip barely even reaching the back of your throat, but he’s hot and heavy on your tongue.

You wait and adjust for a second then begin a pace. Under you, Anton doesn’t say anything, the only communication being his gasps and grunts. You can tell he’s close by the way his hips stutter, desperate to buck up into the wet heat, but still, he doesn’t say anything. You pull off his dick to instead suck at the head, tongue sliding across and dipping into the slit. Almost immediately, Anton verbally explodes.

“Stop! Stop, please– too much, ahh–” He rambles, stuttering around portions of a sentence. He’s so embarrassed, but it’s not his fault you’re playing his body like a fiddle.

You love the sound of him begging, so you keep up the ministrations a bit longer until his whines are so loud that he’s practically screaming, squirming on your blankets. You pull off again and rub up and down his thighs slowly. He gasps and pants as he comes down, so tense, and his cock is even more red, twitching as a steady stream of precum leaks out of the tip. It’s so vulgar that it almost drives you insane, and you’re starting to think you’re gonna lose it if you don’t sit on his cock in the next few minutes, but you push through it.

“Aw, that looks like it hurts. Want me to help you, or should I just leave you like this?” You ask, rubbing lightly at the head. In Anton’s sleep-deprived, sexually frustrated mind, he can’t see how much you want him, how you’re just as desperate as he is, and thinks you’re serious.

“No, please, please, don’t leave me, it hurts so bad.” His hips jump lightly, drawing your attention to his member in an effort to prove his point. “I can’t–can’t get off alone, need you.” He can’t even fathom the thought of you leaving him like this, tender and submissive and so, so hard.

You can’t help but coo at that. You slip your pajamas and underwear, as well as his shirt, off, then straddle him again. You grind your cunt against his member again, this time without the barrier of clothing. Before he can beg, you crash your lips into his, swallowing any small sounds that try to escape.

You kiss him until your lips hurt, making up for all the time you spent silently pining after him, not knowing he wanted you just as bad. When you pull away, he’s struggling to catch his breath and looking at you like you hung the stars.

“You’re s-so stunning, I c-can’t believe you l-like me.” He mumbles through stuttered breaths. His hands lay awkwardly by his sides, and you lift them up to rest on your hips. His thumbs rub circles into them shyly, which causes your heart to swell up.

“How could I not like you, sweet boy? You’re so handsome and smart, so caring.” You run your hand through his tangled hair, gently undoing a couple of knots as you remember the traits and quirks that made you like him from the beginning. He practically melts into your touch and praise, but you’re not done with him just yet. You raise your hips and lean into his ear.

“You’ve been such a good boy, do you want me to fuck you now?” You barely get the question out before he’s nodding again, all eager at the idea of finally feeling your walls against his cock.

Anton watches with slow, bated breath as you line your opening up with his length, but then you actually take it in, bottoming out with no hesitation, and his eyes roll into his head. He screams, but the sound is muffled due to his teeth trapping his bottom lip. You sigh in pleasure while letting yourself adjust to the feeling, then study his features as you clench around his dick.

His eyebrows furrow, and he lets out another high-pitched keen, and you’re mesmerized by his beauty. Anton’s grip on your hips tightens as you lift up and slide back down, but you feel a bit annoyed that his eyes remain closed.

“Look at me, Toni.” You request, hands resting on his chest to support your weight. His eyes barely open, fluttering like it’s a struggle, and you can't help but think again that he’s just so cute. You want to destroy him.

“Good job.” You praise and graze his nipples with your fingers. His hips jerk at the sensation, pushing himself deeper into you, and you squeeze your eyes shut momentarily as a wave of pleasure washes over you. You breathe through it in an attempt to hold on to some sanity. On the next inhale, you pick up the pace, sliding his length in and out of you rapidly.

“Oh, oh god- fuck, th-that’s so good, you’re so good.” Anton rambles, his voice strained and high-pitched in a way you’ve never heard before. You’re instantly obsessed with the sound and make a tsk-ing noise when he bites his bottom lip. You lift your hand off of his chest and squish his cheeks. His bottom lip juts out in a forced pout.

“None of that, baby boy. I wanna hear you.”

“-t’s embarrassing.” He mumbles weakly, which tapers off into another moan as you sink down fully and roll your hips. You throw your head back, feeling his thick size touch you in places you’ve never reached. You pick up a rhythm of sliding him in and out of you a couple of times then bottoming out and rolling your hips.

“Damn, Anton. You f-feel amazing.” You moan, stuttering when his hips buck into your own. You look back at him and his eyes are still open, and he’s giving you that look again, the one that makes you want to shy away under all of that adoration. Before you can, he throws his head back, baring his pretty, flushed neck as another high-pitched noise rips its way out of his throat.

“F-fuck, -m so-sorry, can’t look– gonna cum, I’m–”

You still on his lap and ignore the frustrated noise he lets out. Next to his ear, you whisper, “Not yet, Toni. Don’t you want to make me feel good too?”

He nods dumbly, unaware of how good he’s already making you feel. His eyes are empty and glossed over as you guide his hand to your clit. He rubs it experimentally, and your pleased sigh has him speeding up a bit, pressing a little harder to hear more of those sounds from you.

His entire body is tense and burning hot, so close to the release he’s been chasing for a week, and watching your beautiful body react to his touch only makes it worse. He wants to get you there first, but when you roll your hips down again, he doesn’t think he can do it.

“P-please don’t move, please, please.” He begs, words slurring and eyes shining with desperation. He’s so deeply submitted to you that it’s almost unbearable, and you have the sudden need to please him, make him cum so hard he forgets his name, then kiss him to sleep. You support your weight with your shaky arms and lift your hips up.

“Fuck me, baby. Don’t you wanna cum?” You ask, putting on your sweetest voice for him.

“Fuck yeah, yes, need it.” Anton grunts out. He wraps your arms around his neck and grips your hips tightly before roughly thrusting into your cunt.

“Oh, fuck, Toni–” You gasp out with your face burried in his neck. His desperation shows through his lack of rhythm, his strokes uneven and harsh. He’s hitting your sweet spot so aggressively it feels like you might lose your mind, then his hand comes to rub your clit again, the grip on your waist strong enough to hold you up with one hand.

“Oh, god. Cum, please cum, I-I can’t hold it.” He begs, words interlaced with keens and gasps. Despite your previous permission, he’s still so desperate to please you, even with wet cheeks and eyebrows furrowed in agony. The sight, the feeling of him pounding into your sweet spot, and the harsh, uneven rubbing on your clit sends you into overdrive. You cum so hard your hearing almost goes out, but you can faintly make out his muffled screams, and you feel him cream in you, hot fluids spilling back over his cock as he works himself through it.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Eventually, the air stills, and for the first time in hours, Anton’s tense body fully relaxes, his bones melding into your pillows. You lift off of him to let him fully catch his breath, and slip into the bathroom. His eyes are closed when you return, and flutter open when he feels something warm and wet touch his skin.

You’re clean now, having wiped yourself down in the bathroom, and he’s silent as you clean him up as well. His blinks are slow like his eyelids are heavy, and you’re overwhelmed with the desire to leave kisses all over his puffy cheeks.

You put discarded clothing as well as any dirty blankets in your laundry basket, then climb under the duvet with him. He’s warm and cozy when you pull him to lay on your chest again.

It’s silent for a few minutes, but you know he’s not asleep, because his breath is irregular.

“...Noona?” He calls out so quietly you’re surprised you hear it, alert to make sure he’s got everything he needs, so you hum in response.

“Did you mean it? That you think I’m…handsome, and stuff?” He mumbles. His voice is so soft and sweet that you just wanna eat him up, but you don’t wanna disturb his comfort.

“I meant every word, Anton. I’ve adored you since we met.” You confess while running your fingers through his fluffy, tangled hair.

Moments of silence pass.

“I think I’ve been denying my crush on you for the past four weeks.” He whispers again, almost uncertain. His words have your heartbeat picking up, the idea of him reciprocating your romantic feelings makes you so happy you could jump on the bed, because you don’t know how you would’ve gone back to being just friends after tonight.

Similar thoughts run through Anton’s mind. He can’t believe he didn’t see his feelings for you sooner. It feels like after a full week, he’s finally able to relax into his skin again. You’re so comforting, and remembering how you took care of him gives him butterflies. Curiously, he looks up at you, and your eyes are staring back at him, as soft and sparkly as they’ve always been. He can’t believe how deep his feelings for you actually run.

Your lips curl into a big smile, then you're suddenly cupping his cheeks and pressing warm, wet kisses all over his face.

“So cute. You’re so, so cute. I can’t resist any longer.” You say through smooches. He grunts in feigned annoyance, pretending that his heart isn’t threatening to jump out of his chest. You lay him back down, but he still has one question on his mind.

“Noona, w-will you…be my girlfriend?” His uncertain tone is back, despite everything.

“I better be.” You say lightly, half-joking. You continue running your fingers through his hair, and Anton’s eyelids become so heavy that he can’t keep them open despite wanting to stay here in this moment with you.

You want to be sure before you drift off yourself, so you wait for a few more minutes, and then his breath evens out, and Anton falls asleep.

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sorserah · 4 months

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Mechaniacs - Kirin Jindosh x OC - Chapter III

Summary The story of Dr. Addison Lynch, a neuroscientist who played an important role in the past and will again in the future. (fic from 2017) _________________________________________________ tags: unethical medicine, blood, violence, neurology, neuroscience, dishonored universe usual type of stuff, first person _________________________________________________ ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8598001/chapters/19733941#workskin

Grand Inventor Kirin Jindosh. Owner of the well known clockwork mansion and former student of Anton Sokolov. One of 4 persons I had on my list of people I definitely wanted to meet. Dr Hypatia was already checked and Sokolov, too, since I worked with him on the cure for the plague. But Jindosh was different. We share a fact that changed our whole careers: banned from the Academy for life, for reasons that are still not public. Well at least Jinoshs‘, mine spread around like a second plague. 24 hours were enough and everyone in Dunwall knew what I had done and I was ”asked nicely“ to leave the city. The last person on the list was Delilah Copperspoon. Great artist, twisted mind, but surely great for inspiration, but now, sitting on the throne, harder to reach then ever.

It probably would take some time before Emily would come back and I would be able to interrogate her about everything and the clockwork mansion. I sighed ”I wish I could be there.“ I heard he developed mechanical soldiers, way more impressive than the Tallboys were, they work completely without human interaction. Imagine the opportunities: Give them the ability to feel or to learn by themselves. Learning to react properly in conversations, giving advice based on statistics or based on intuition. And so much more.

I decided to spent the time on cleaning, drying and sorting my notes and things I had in the backpack and there was still the hand issue, that had to be taken of. Most of the punch cards were ruined, but I was able to copy them almost identically with some old tools I found in the workshop. Unfortunately half of my written notes were completely ruined. The ones that weren‘t made out of ink survived, but it weren‘t many. I let them fall between my legs on the ground and grabbed the pillow next to me just to scream in it for a minute: ”HALF A YEAR OF WORK R U I N E D!“ and then indistinct screaming. How am I supposed to reproduce all correlates and possible causalities without any evidence and notes? I didn‘t know if I would be able to continue my studies now, after all that happened. All the evidences and no corpses. I doubt that Emily would bring me one. She did mention that she needs me for something and maybe I could ask her for a favor, but I guess being here and alive is favor enough. I stood up and moved to the window, it must be around 2 p.m. I could see Serkonos from here. Even if I wanted to leave „Where would I go?“ Not back to Addermire, not back to Dunwall. Maybe there was a university here in Serkonos. I could fake some of my papers, change my name, get my hand fixed...I stared on my flesh lump. I knew enough about anatomy to tell that it would be tough task for a skilled surgeon and impossible for me, even if I wouldn‘t be on this ship and had my tools and laboratory. „Maybe I should just...“ No. I observed my former hand. Chopping it off wasn‘t an option. But the pain will be back soon.

I leaned out of the window, a pleasant breeze, my hair brushing my face. If that one subject hadn‘t been escaped, everything would have been different. My stomach announced with a loud noise it was time to eat, I totally forgot. I got comfortable in the bed with the loaf of bread. After eating it up and washing down a few more pain killers, I fell asleep.

I woke at 2 am, someone was screaming in pain. It was me. My hand was hot and I felt my own heartbeat in it. I removed the bandage and inspected it. From my top of fingers down to the wrist it was pitch black. I just stared at it, unable to move, not knowing what to do, when it started to melt. Thick black liquid, running down my arm, burning everything in its way. „Addison, wake up!“ It wasn‘t me screaming, it was someone else. A man. And the person who just had woken me up was Emily. „We need your help. Come.“ This was clearly and order.

She guided me into the next room, where Sokolov was convulsed in pain on the couch. „What happened?“ „Doesn‘t matter now, help him!“ „I am a neuroscientist not a internist.“ „I don‘t care and if you want to stay on this boat and not be thrown into the ocean right now, you do the best you can to help him.“ That was pretty clear. I found some health elixirs, some flowers and herbs on the table next to him. The herbs wouldn‘t be strong enough. I removed the elixir and poured it into a beaker, went back to my room and crushed a few of the painkillers, added them and heated the mixture up until it was dissolved. Emily was watching the whole time. „I am going to need more of those“ I showed her the painkillers „there won‘t enough in a few days.“ She nodded. I poured the mixture back into its original vascular, sat down next to Sokolov and injected a bit. It seemed to work. The loud moaning and screaming changed into softer tones and deeper breaths. I turned around and saw Emily standing with the back to me facing Meagen, who entered a few seconds ago, so I took a sip. It was pretty strong.

„What do you mean, you don‘t know where to put him?“ „We don‘t have enough space Emily. Besides someone should watch him. I thought about putting him outside or in the machine room, but honestly I am sure he will just rip out something he can reach and build a clockwork soldier right here, from scratch“ Did she, did Emily...Were they talking about Jindosh? Of course. I sure as hell would volunteer to babysit him all day and all night. „Put him in her room.“ „Are you sure about that? I mean Emily, both of them are batshit crazy. One slightly more then the other, no offense though“ Well she wasn‘t wrong: „None taken. I will take him, honestly I thought about running, but this thing“ I held up my blood lump „and I shouldn‘t go anywhere anytime soon.“ Emily nodded „You don‘t really argue in your favor, but it‘s not like we have a choice anyway...Fine, but put some handcuffs on him, don‘t put him near anything small and metallic he could reach, to crack them. The door will be open all the time and windows closed at night. Someone will check at least every 2 hours if everything is fine. “ Meagen nodded "Maybe we shoulf hancuff her, too?" Emily examined me "No. She knows what will happen if she tries anything." Meagen left.

„Addison, is that really you?“ Sokolov seemed to have woken up. „In flesh and blood.“ Emily was at my side shortly after she heard him and he smiled at her, before he fell asleep. „How is he?“ „He is fine and will probably recover. I quick checked him for internal and external wounds, but it doesn‘t seem to be that bad. Give him a few days, maybe a week.“ „Thank you!“ She sounded relieved and took his hand. I gave her the elixir and left. She wasn't right. I didn't know what exactly would happen, if I tried something, but I also wasn't eager to find out.

#kirin jindosh x oc #kirin jindosh fan fiction #kirin jindosh #dishonored #dishonored fanfic #dishonored fan fiction

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mearcatsreturns · 3 years

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/whispers/ So maybe I now have to ask for Ivan and the No Good Terrible Very Bad Day Attempting to Babysit a Grisha Child Who Can Summon Light and Shadow. How could this possibly go wrong.

Once again, this got long, so here's the first chapter of A Day in the Life of Ivan, Or: Ivan’s Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day.

The worst day of Ivan’s life begins years before the fateful day itself, if that’s possible. He’s grateful not to know the precise day, but he knows who—or what, rather—is to blame.

It’s the damn heterosexuals. They just won’t stop fucking, and they’ve made it everyone else’s problem now.

The heterosexuals in question are, of course, Kirigan and Alina, or as they’re known now, the Tsar and Tsarina.

&&&

About three years before the Worst Day™, Ivan is minding his own business, just trying to find some decent food after returning from a mission to the northern border. It wasn’t a bad trip; Fedyor had been with him and they’d enjoyed the opportunity to spend some time together outside the political games of Os Alta.

Nevertheless, Ivan is eager to eat some food that isn’t dried and to sleep in his own comfortable bed. He’s already debriefed with the Tsar and bathed, so he’s delighted to find it’s time for dinner. It’s to be a small group tonight, just the king and queen, Nikolai, Zoya, Tamar, Nadia, Fedyor and him. He can tolerate them all (except Fedyor, who of course is the light of his life), though Alina remains permanently on thin ice. She makes the Darkling light and happy, and it’s just unnatural.

They settle around the table and fall into comfortable conversation. Tolya is on an assignment and intends to travel to Kerch after this. Tamar and Nadia are beginning to formalize their union and are looking for a house. If their bickering and the obscene looks Zoya and Nikolai are giving each other are any indication, Ivan expects some kind of announcement from them any day. The Tsar intends to invite some dignitaries from Novyi Zem to the palace in a few weeks.

And Tsaritsa Alina is pale and...unwell. She looks queasy, and Ivan feels a moment of alarm. Grisha can’t get sick, not unless they don’t use their powers. Given that Alina is the Sol Koroleva, the renowned Sun Summoner, that seems unlikely. Few things lead to such ill appearances. Maybe some kind of poison? If she or her food are being poisoned, they need to know as soon as possible.

Ivan does his usual first step; he counts the heartbeats, checking their speeds. One, two, three, four, everyone is normal, five, six, seven, eight, nine...ah, the ninth is faint and fast.

Wait. Nine? There are only eight of them here at dinner, and the attendants have long since departed.

It hits Ivan like a lightning bolt, and he gasps aloud in shock and horror. The most reasonable explanation for the extra heartbeat and Alina’s ill looks is—oh, saints protect them all—a baby.

Everyone turns to look at him, as though he is the one who’s done something strange and dangerous.

Ivan gapes at Alina and points a finger accusingly, “You’re pregnant! With a baby!”

Beside him, Fedyor closes his eyes and shakes his head, letting out a sigh. Tamar and Nadia exchange a knowing, amused look, though they manage not to laugh. Zoya raises one shapely eyebrow.

Nikolai grins. “One generally is pregnant with babies, as opposed to anything else. Except perhaps with genius ideas, in my case and David’s. Alina, moi tsar, congratulations to you both.”

Alina glares at Ivan. What? He’s not the unholy saint about to unleash terror onto the earth from their womb.

Once he glances at Kirigan, though, Ivan stills. The Tsar is ashen and looks as though someone has dropped an iron on his head, or told him that his beloved horse is Grisha too.

“Aleksander, I wasn’t sure. I was waiting until I was to tell you,” Alina says, one hand on her husband’s forearm. “Are...are you all right?”

The Tsar opens his mouth, but no sounds come out.

Tamar and Nadia stand, hand-in-hand. “We, ah, think we’ll take our leave now. Thank you for a lovely dinner, Sol Koroleva, my King,” Tamar says, and she and her fiancée flee.

Zoya clears her throat and gives Nikolai a look that is very different from the hungry one Ivan so despises on faces that aren’t Fedyor’s.

With a nod at her, Nikolai stands and helps her to her feet. “Indeed. Your hospitality is, as always, boundless, though I can’t help but feel we’re trespassing on it every second we linger here. Erm, do let me know when I can get you a gift.”

“Congratulations,” Zoya says, and to Ivan’s disgust, she actually sounds sincere. He watches as she and Nikolia leave, one of the Lantsov pup’s hands at the small of her waist. One would think the heterosexuals would have learned from this evening that touching each other is dangerous, but apparently some of them are just utter fools.

Fedyor elbows him, and Ivan turns to scowl at his beloved. “Wha—”

A point of his head in the direction of the Tsar and Tsaritsa quiets Ivan.

Alina is kneeling beside her husband’s chair, stroking his arm. Aleksander Kirigan, King of Ravka, Shadow Summoner, the Black General, sits still as a statue, eyes wide with shock.

“We’ll head out now too,” Fedyor says.

Ivan nods, grabbing Fedya’s arm and hauling him from the room. Over his shoulder, Ivan yells, “Good luck!”

Fedyor smacks him, whispering furiously as they close the door behind them. “‘Good luck’?! You’re supposed to say ‘congratulations,’ or ‘have a nice evening,’ you utter troll.”

“I’m a troll now? See if I give you a massage when we get back to our rooms,” Ivan grouses. He pulls Fedyor along, pulling him away from where he seemed inclined to linger by the door. Eavesdropping, pah. He can’t believe he’s married to such a busybody.

Who would want to stay to hear whatever nonsense the Darkling and his wife are about to say or do? He’s had enough of that for one lifetime, thank you very much.

Ivan shudders. The two most powerful Grisha on the planet, one a sun summoner and the other a shadow summoner, having a baby? The world is definitely doomed.

&&&

The next day, Ivan receives a summons to go see the Tsar. Dread churns in his stomach, and he rubs his eyes. He hadn’t slept well, especially after he and Fedyor had a tiff about “inappropriate behavior and outbursts.” And now he’s to see his boss, probably about said outburst the previous night.

He accompanies Anton, the young oprichnik to the Tsar’s quarters, and the boy brightens with excitement to be talking to one of the Tsar’s most favored Grisha. “Thank you, Andrei. I’ll make my way from here.” The boy’s face falls, but Ivan dismisses him with a nod. If the oprichniki got any more friendly, they’d start calling him Vanya without his permission. Appalling.

Ivan takes a deep breath, then knocks at the door. He’s long since learned the value of knocking after Alina and the General got together, especially now that they share their quarters. Unfortunately, no healer has yet to find something to wipe certain sights from his brain.

“Come in,” Kirigan’s faint, disembodied voice commands.

Ivan lets himself into the room, waiting while the Tsar steps around the corner from the bedroom he shares with his queen.

“Good morning, Ivan.”

“Good morning, moi soverennyi. I hope you rested well,” Ivan replies, tone funereal. Saints, he prays he’s not about to be sent to Tsibeya permanently. He runs his hand under his collar, annoyed to find he’s actually sweating.

Kirigan’s face gives nothing away. “I did, thank you. The Tsaritsa is with Genya and one of the healers.”

“And she...she is well?” Ivan gulps.

“Yes. She was apparently a bit surprised last night herself, as she’d only just begun to suspect she might be pregnant.”

As much as Ivan hates when the Tsar’s feelings show—it’s usually him making soppy, annoying faces at Alina—he wishes Aleksander would just say what’s on his mind.

“My apologies, sir, I was also surprised. She seemed unwell, and I wanted to make sure she wasn’t, say, being poisoned.”

“You thought someone might be poisoning my wife?” Kirigan is incredulous.

“Things have been very calm with Fjerda lately. I don’t trust it.”

The General mutters under his breath, something about not trusting anything.

Ivan waits. Finally, Kirigan breaks the not-so-silent silence. “Well, thank you for your concern. And, ah, the surprising news.”

“You’re most welcome,” he replies gloomily.

“You don’t seem thrilled.”

“Forgive me, moi tsar, but I don’t see a need for excitement at a natural result of your conjugal activities. Sir.”

Oh, saints, is Kirigan frowning at him? Ivan mentally starts packing his belongings when the frown becomes a smile and then a laugh.

Perhaps Aleksander still isn’t quite recovered from the shock of his impending fatherhood.

He’s not paying attention to Ivan anyway. Kirigan makes his way to the table, shuffling the papers there unseeingly. “I didn’t think it was possible, you know.”

“I did not.” And Ivan would like to keep it that way.

Alas, Aleksander seems inclined to continue talking. “In all my long life, longer than you know, I’ve never fathered a child.”

Ivan grimaces. The world is probably grateful, though now it has much to fear. “It would have been challenging to have had a child during the wars, sir.”

Kirigan waves this aside, and unfortunately continues speaking. “Still, for it to happen with Alina...I’m so thrilled, Ivan.”

“And I am...happy for you, General.” Make it stop. Ivan is queasy.

“Of course, it’s probably for the best that it didn’t happen when Alina and I first got together, especially now that I know how possible that was.”

Ivan wants to cover his ears and sing “la la la la la,” but the implications of what his boss is saying finally sink in, and his horror at this whole situation increases exponentially. “Wait. Do you mean to say you weren’t using, ah, preventative measures?”

Kirigan’s face grows sheepish. “Until my conversation with Alina last night after you all departed, I wasn’t aware there was such a thing. In my day, one simply planned around the time of the month or withdrew from—”

“I beg you to stop talking. Moi soverennyi,” Ivan adds as an afterthought.

The Tsar falls silent, and Ivan sighs with relief.

But something bothers him. “Did you not get any sort of talk about how to prevent pregnancy when you were training? Even I did when I was young, before everyone knew I wouldn’t have to worry about that.”

“Like I said, there weren’t those kinds of options when I was young, as far as I know,” Kirigan says with a shrug.

Ivan begins to realize that his boss is, in fact, much older than he thought. That explains the herring and rye, too. He hesitates before venturing to speak. “Do...was Alina—the queen, that is, did she explain the different kinds of birth control, or…?”

“Well, I can’t get her more pregnant, Ivan.”

It’s too horrible to even contemplate, and Ivan shudders.

Kirigan laughs and slaps his shoulder. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to give me The Talk. Alina was so upset I didn’t know that she told me everything last night.”

Ivan’s lips twist in dismay at Aleksander’s rapturous expression that indicates there was a demonstration of some practical applications. Ugh. “Small mercies.”

“Well, hopefully you’ll consider this next a mercy: I want you and Fedyor to stay close through Alina’s pregnancy, especially once word gets out.”

Staying in Os Alta won’t be so bad, but the idea of dancing attendance on Alina, all while some parasite hijacks and distorts her body...well, hopefully he’ll get a good field assignment once this pregnancy is over. “Of course, moi tsar. And when will it end? I mean, ah, when is the blessed event?”

“In seven and a half months or so, perhaps eight. She’s about five or six weeks along, the healer says. And that, well…” Kirigan smiles at what is clearly the memory of this child’s conception.

Ivan fervently wracks his brain, desperate to keep his boss from offering more information that will give him nightmares about heterosexual intercourse. “And is there any way of knowing whether the babe will be a shadow summoner or sun summoner? Or both?”

A stricken look comes over Kirigan’s face. “Both?” He clearly hasn’t considered this possibility yet. “But that…” He doesn’t continue, instead going to fall into his chair and stare into distance.

It’s going to be a long few months.

&&&

It’s roughly eight months after that when Ivan is rudely pulled from sleep by Genya bursting into his and Fedyor’s room like she has the right.

It’s obscenely early in the morning, Ivan is, as is his usual habit, sleeping on his side facing the window. Fedyor, as is his usual custom, sleeps with his arm slung over Ivan’s waist and his head buried between his shoulder blades. It’s very soothing, normally.

Not today, though. The door opens with a bang, and Genya yells, “It’s time! She’s here!”

Ivan, suddenly wide awake, goes to jump out of bed. Instead, he finds that Genya has slowed their heart rates enough that hurrying is impossible. He glares at her. “What the fuck are you doing in our room? Who is here?”

“The baby is here. The tsarevna.”

“It’s a girl?” Fedyor asks with a smile.

Genya grins back. “Yes. She’s adorable.”

Ivan does not smile. “I’m glad she’s arrived. But why are you here in our bedroom at—” he glances at the clock and continues, “4:52 in the morning?”

“Everyone is going to see here. You’re the Tsar’s right-hand man, Ivan, so they’ll be expecting you.”

“Well, Genya, darling, you’ll have to let our hearts do their normal thing if you want us to do that,” Fedyor adds.

She shakes her head and drops her hand. “Of course. Sorry. See you there in fifteen minutes, and please be wearing pants. And shirts.”

Ivan grumbles, but gets out of bed. It’s difficult to want to leave when Fedyor is looking over him like that, but Kirigan probably will be upset if they don’t come to fawn over his spawn in what he deems a reasonable amount of time.

He and Fedyor make their way down the halls of the palace to Aleksander’s and Alina’s private apartment. The door is open, but Ivan nods at the guards and knocks anyway before stepping inside, Fedyor on his heels. He walks back to the bedroom, where he can hear hushed, happy conversations.

Alina is lying on the bed. She looks sweaty and disgusting, but in a radiant and maternal way that the Tsar seems to find beautiful, since he can’t look away from her. Typical, and exactly what got them into this mess.

The mess in question is wrapped in a blanket in her mother’s arms. Ivan glances at the small bundle, which seems to be sleeping. It is certainly very red.

Kirigan sits in a chair beside the bed, as close to it and his wife and new daughter as he can. He’s resting one hand on Alina’s shoulder, while the other trails along his daughter’s tiny head.

“The tsarevna is lovely,” Fedyor says, smiling down at the family.

Ivan thinks that’s a bit of a stretch, but he nods. “She looks like a baby. A healthy one.”

Fedyor elbows him, but Alina just rolls her eyes. “Thank you, I think.”

“She’s beautiful,” Aleksander says firmly, his face still disturbingly dreamy. “We’ve decided to call her Anastasia.”

Nastia. That seems about right.

Just then, the wee girl stirs and starts to wail. As her cries grow louder and Alina shifts to be able to feed her, shadows creep into the room. Then through the darkness, Ivan sees little flashes of light coming from the baby.

Fuck. This tiny child can summon shadows and light.

Nasty little Nastia indeed.

#fivan #heartrender husbands #darklina #heartrender husbands ff #fivan ff #ivan ff #darklina ff #sab ff #shadow and bone #grishaverse #my fanfic #next chapter should be up tomorrow or the next day #Ivan remains a beleaguered and snarky fool #will be on ao3 too #give ivan a raise 2kwhatever

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beauvibaby · 4 years

Text

proud papa – t.seguin

a/n: enjoy the random baby fic I wrote 🥺

When you told Tyler you were pregnant, you were certain you’d never seen him so happy, the tears in his eyes and a smile that didn’t leave his face for over a week.

That was until the pregnancy started hitting you hard, you were constantly nauseous, you were lucky if you could keep anything in your stomach for more than an hour. Fine, you could deal with that, it all ended after you hit three months anyways, right?

Wrong.

You were sick well into your seventh month of pregnancy, Tyler hated it, because there really was nothing he could do to help, aside from holding your hair back and helping you off the floor. It killed him, even though he knew it was worth it in the long run, that didn’t make it any easier during the moment. Then, just finally when you stopped being nauseous over every little smell, the inability to sleep kicked in, and it was the end of the hockey season, so Tyler was extremely busy, and going for roadies a lot, which only made it harder for you.

It was one in the morning, you knew Tyler would most likely be asleep, having to get up early the next day for the trip home, but you couldn’t lay here staring at the wall any longer. You rubbed your bloated belly, wishing your daughter would just settle down in there, you picked up your phone, FaceTiming Tyler before you could calm yourself down and talk yourself out of it. The phone rang, and rang, and just when you thought he wasn’t going to pick up, it connected the call. “Y/N, what’s wrong? Is everything ok?” He rushed the second he saw your face, tear stained and all. “It’s fine, I shouldn’t have called.” You panicked, rubbing the tears away, you could see him visibly relax once he knew nothing was seriously wrong. “Baby, what’s the matter?” He mumbled, frowning when you started to cry all over again. “I can’t sleep!” You groaned, situating your body with the pillow, he chuckled softly, “it’s not funny! I can’t sleep on my stomach, I can’t sleep on my back, and then every time I think I’m comfortable, she starts kicking me in the ribs.” You ranted, letting out an exasperated groan. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. When I get home we can take all the naps you want.” He shot you a smile, you nodded, still crying. “Promise?” You mumbled. He laughed, “promise.”

He kept his promise, and became your personal body pillow, but he didn’t mind one bit as you finally got some well deserved rest and he got to keep his hand on your stomach the whole time, feeling everytime the baby moved around.

It was all worth it now though, as you watched Tyler tend to your newborn daughter, you having to take it a little easy considering the c-section you just had, you couldn’t say you were surprised, considering how everything else in the pregnancy went crazy, she just had to make a shocking debut into the world. You truly think Tyler cried more than you, he was a nervous wreck, sitting behind the curtain by your head as he listened to them saying all sorts of things, you on the other hand were abnormally calm, maybe it was all the medication they had pumped into you, but the tears started flowing the second they held your daughter up over the curtain for the two of you to see. It felt like an eternity until she started to cry, but once she did the both of you let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding in.

***

It was finally time for your daughter, Callie, to go to her first hockey game, and you had her dressed in her Seguin jersey, although you weren’t down by the ice, for ease of being able to get her to sleep during the game, you were up in a viewers suite, but it was still exciting nonetheless. Even if you missed most of the game because you were trying to settle her down, she was still only five months old, but knowing how excited Tyler was to have her here, made it worthwhile.

The second they skated off the ice, you were gathering your things and heading down to the locker room, bouncing the baby on your hip as she took in the new surroundings. You knew Tyler, so you knew he was going to want to take her in there to show her off to all the guys, despite them all having seen her multiple times. And you were right, the second he was showered and the guys were all clothed to some capacity, he brought her in there, towing you along.

She gurgled and clapped to the best of her ability as she had all the attention on her, much more like her father in that sense. Of course, not shocking to anyone, her favorite guy in the room aside from Tyler, was Jamie. You couldn’t help but grin and take pictures as they all swarmed around to see her, Roope rubbing her little back when she looked up at him with wide eyes. “Hi, Callie.” Anton spoke with his heavy accent, the baby giving him an incredulous look, making Tyler laugh deeply, she turned to her dad, lightly patting at his face. Miro came up briefly, Callie hid from him, which was odd, but you laughed it off, feeling bad when he walked away with a pout. Alex came up, cooing to her, and she happily giggled in response, like she could tell he had children of his own. Esa popped up from behind Tyler’s shoulder, sending Callie into tears. “Oh, no, no.” He panicked, reaching to touch her, only making her scream more. “It’s alright.” You assured him, walking over to them, rubbing her back when she threw her head into her dad's neck. Tyler patted her butt lightly as he bounced, trying to get her to calm down. Jamie emerged from the showers, pants pulled on, knowing you were in the room. Callie stared at him as he approached, making a face you couldn’t quite decipher, she waited until the last second and started laughing and reaching for him, much to Tyler’s dismay.

You gave him a look, and he handed Callie over, knowing she would scream until she got her way anyways. Jamie happily took her, holding her up slightly as she laughed, knowing the second she was close enough, she would be yanking on his beard. Something she did to Tyler as well, “don’t be such a grump, Ty.” You sighed as he stood behind you, his arms lightly around your neck, his chin on your head. “I’m not being a grump.” He grumbled, you tilted your head back to look at him, “oh really?” You quipped, seeing the way he watched Callie with Jamie, he was jealous, without reason. “She loves you, you’re her favorite person, she just likes him because she doesn’t see him as much.” You assured your disgruntled husband, “now, finish getting dressed, she’s going to have a meltdown soon, it’s way past her bedtime.” You added, pushing him off of you with a kiss to his cheek.

The second Callie saw him turn away she started screaming, startling Jamie who looked at her with wide, worried eyes. You chuckled, taking the short few steps over to him, taking your crying daughter as the younger guys cringed at the way she could shriek, Tyler scrambling to get dressed. You swayed and held her to your chest as she continued to wail, you flung the diaper bag back on your shoulder and went to the hallway, walking back and forth to calm her down. Slowly, she stopped shrieking, but she was still doing her sniffling, her body jerking with every sharp breath she took. “Aw, baby girl.” Tyler approached, dressed back in his pregame suit, taking her from you with ease as she nuzzled into him, falling asleep before you even reached the parking garage.

“Are you happy now?” You teased him, he was leaning against the wall in the elevator to the level you parked on, Callie asleep on his shoulder, his head resting against her, his own eyes shut as he savored the moment, knowing that, before he knew it she wouldn’t be sleeping on him all the time. “Very.” He whispered, pressing a light kiss to her head, she stirred, but didn’t wake as she loosened her fisted grip on his shirt. You quickly snapped a picture as he let his eyes shut again, you posted it to your Instagram, captioning it with Proud Papa.

“I love you.” You spoke as you walked out of the elevator, he glanced over at you, “I love you.” He smiled, holding her with one arm, using the other to pull you into his side as you walked. “You’ve gotta bring her to more games.” He added, you shook your head, laughing, “she’s not going to remember any of this, you know.” You reminded him, “yeah, but I will.”

taglist: @vinceduhn @jackiesquinn @wtfkie @literarycharleton @kempe @vincecdunn

#Tyler seguin #Tyler seguin fic #Tyler seguin imagine #Tyler seguin blurb #Dallas stars

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alj4890 · 4 years

Note

In the TRR book 3 we know Olivia gets stab by Anton during a fight, but what if Riley was the one to get stab while fighting with Anton? After all he was her press secretary and the betrayal ran deep with him!

A/N Here we go Nonny. I will admit that in book 2, I really liked Justin. His catchphrase was annoying, but so is Penelope’s incessant talk of Poodles, LOL. I enjoyed the twist in book 3 of him being the bad guy, but I did wonder why PB had Riley brushing off his betrayal so easily. Maxwell seemed more tore up than anyone that he was the terrorist. When you think about it, she spent months of the most difficult time in her and Liam’s relationship depending on this man to help her find a way to clear her name and find a way to have her happy ending. I think facing him would be harder than book 3 made it out to be. So...starting from the moment Olivia and Riley escape the dungeon and have let Gladys out of her prison, we will begin with them in the recreated Nevarkis weapons room.

Masterlist

@gkittylove99 @darley1101 @krsnlove @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @yourmajesty09 @mom2000aggie @ofpixelsandscribbles @twinkleallnight

Hesitation

Mysterious Nevarkis Stronghold...

"He will come for his wife," Anton boasted. "And when he does, he will meet his end."

Riley tried to focus but Anton's words kept replaying over and over in her head.

"Which weapon do you want?" Olivia asked as she picked through the different daggers.

When no response was given she looked up to see what was wrong.

Riley was staring blankly at the wall adorned with various battle axes, swords, and war hammers. Her fingers moved over the angry red marks where the rope she had been bound with had rubbed her wrists raw. Her lips parted to answer Olivia, yet no words came out.

Liam. Her heart ached at the thought of losing him. After everything she had done to finally have the chance to be with him...Anton was determined to destroy it all. How could she possibly save anyone? She had little to no training in defense, yet she foolishly believed she could save the man she loved along with herself and her friend.

"Riley?" Olivia snapped in a harsh manner.

It was just what she needed to snap out of the defeated mindset she was falling into.

Riley reached up and removed a sword from the wall. Giving a few practiced swings, she ordered Gladys to draw as many of Anton's minions away as she could.

"Thank you, your majesty." Gladys reached out to squeeze her hand.

Olivia blocked her from touching by sliding in front of Riley. Her emerald eyes burned with hatred as she spoke.

"She might be giving you another chance," Olivia set her blade against the backstabbing servant's cheek, "but if I see one lock of your hair anywhere near Justin or the fight, then I will kill you myself."

Gladys stumbled back and bobbed her head while promising that she wouldn't go anywhere near them. She tripped over her own feet to get as far away from Olivia and her knives as she could.

Riley snorted on a laugh. She couldn't believe that at a time like this, her mind could see any kind of humor. "You need to teach me how to do that."

Olivia smirked at her as she led the way out.

The hallways were silent as the two crept along, sticking to the shadows as much as they could. After seeing that the rooms they came to were empty, Olivia begrudgingly complimented Gladys's ability to clear the way for them.

"Wait a sec." Riley whispered.

She handed Olivia her sword and then bent over to rip a slit in her dress. Testing it out, she ripped it higher until her legs felt free to move. What she wouldn't give to be wearing any other kind of shoe over the open toed high heels she had on.

"You good?" Olivia whispered.

With a nod, Riley took her sword back and continued down the hallway.

Murmurs of differing voices were heard when they approached a corner.

Olivia raised her dagger while Riley positioned beside her with her sword hedged over her shoulder like a baseball bat.

"They must be some--" Drake stopped just a hairsbreadth from being cleaved in two.

"Riley!" Hana pushed past him and Maxwell to hug her and Olivia. "Thank goodness you're both okay!"

"Where's Liam?" Riley stood on tiptoes to see over Drake's shoulders. "Isn't he with you?"

Maxwell rubbed the back of his neck. "He insisted on meeting Justin alone."

"Liam wanted us to find you and Olivia." Drake added.

"What about Bastien and the other guards?" Olivia asked.

The three shared a look.

"They didn't come?!" Riley hissed. "Liam has no one watching his back?"

"Yet." Olivia tilted her head. "He'll have us soon enough.

****************

Riley didn't know where this burst of courage came from, but she had already vaulted over a stairwell and slashed numerous soldiers that tried to help Anton fight Liam. Her heart was racing in time to her husband's every flinch and movement. She knew she should double check on her other friends to make certain they were holding their own, but the moment she heard Liam say, where is my wife, in that deep, dangerous tone...she only knew she had to do whatever was necessary to protect him.

They had not had a chance to speak or even to touch to make certain the other was truly okay before being thrust into the battle that she prayed was truly the final altercation.

She paused off to the side after wrestling with another minion. She brushed the hair out of her flushed face that had escaped her pearl hair clip. Her mind tried to comprehend the utter chaos going on around her.

And then she saw Anton make his move.

There was no time to shout a warning to Liam who was fighting three at once. The dagger’s blade in Anton's hand gleamed in the faint moonlight filtering in the windows as he raised it to stab Cordonia's young king in the back.

Riley kicked her shoes off and rushed to get between them. The muscles in her arms burned from lifting the heavy sword high above her head. Using what energy she had left, she blocked the blade about to pierce her beloved's heart.

Anton's lips twisted in a frustrated snarl as he leveled his cold gaze upon her.

Liam turned around in time to see what Riley had done. Just as he was about to help her, Claude barreled into him, knocking him into a far wall. Drake rushed over to help Liam when two other soldiers answered Anton's second in command's call for assistance.

Anton gritted his teeth at seeing his men defeated by people who spent all their time at fancy dinners and balls. Taking a step back to reassess whether or not this was the time to claim the crown, he decided retreat for the moment was the best option.

"It's over Justin." Riley told him. "Surrender now."

His expression eased into that of his easy going alter ego. "The battle might be, but this will not end until you and Liam are dead."

He sprinted over to the stairwell.

Riley dashed after him, determined to not live the rest of her life in fear.

"Justin!" She shouted.

He turned just in time to barely miss her sword's blade plunging into his back.

Smirking, he faced her. "I see you learned more from me than how to work the press."

She blinked at how calm he was as he lifted his dagger. Memories of time spent with him flittered through her mind. His effort in supporting her, laughing late at night with her and Maxwell over some of the ridiculous events they took part in, comforting her whenever she lost hope that she could one day truly be with Liam.

He had been a friend when she desperately needed one.

Her hands trembled as they tightened on the hilt of her sword.

It wasn't Justin who faced her now. It was the man who had worked with traitors to take the crown. The man who had tried numerous times to kill her and anyone else who got in his way. It was the man who threatened her the very future she had fought so hard to obtain..

It was Anton who stood before her.

Her friend Justin was no more. His death had come swiftly the moment she discovered his photograph in Olivia's vault.

And soon Anton's would follow.

"Riley, let us end this." He cajoled when he noticed her hesitate. "You don't have it in you to kill anyone." His familiar Justin smile flittered about his lips. "I know you. You are the kind of person who deserves to live a happy life. Not one caught up in political intrigue."

He edged a step closer as his . "It shouldn't have been you that was kidnapped. If you had only given up on Liam and allowed Madeleine to have him." He shook his head in pity while his Svengali like voice washed over her. "I wish you had stayed in New York. You will be the only person I regret ever having to eliminate."

Before Riley could react, he plunged his dagger into her side.

A hot wave of pain hit her when he jerked the knife out. She staggered back in shock. Her sword fell from her numb fingers, clattering as it fell down the stairs.

She could hear a roar thrumming through her ears and realized it was Liam.

He had just witnessed his wife being stabbed.

Justin glanced over his shoulder to taunt the current king.

Unable to focus on anything going on around her except the agony she felt, Riley pressed her hand to her side and felt the warmth of her own blood seeping through her fingers. Her side felt like it was on fire as she sank slowly to the floor. She glanced down the stairs and saw Olivia struggling against a solider to reach her.

With a violent flick of her wrist, her dagger went into the man's throat that had tried to pin her to the wall.

Olivia staggered as she walked, blood trickling down from her nose and bottom lip.

"If you can breathe, you can stand." She mouthed to Riley.

"And if you can stand, you can fight." Riley mouthed back.

Unable to get to her feet easily, Riley crawled over to where Justin stood. His back was to her as he threatened Liam and her friends. He continued to torture her husband by going into vivid detail all the ways he could finish her off.

Looking for anything she could possibly wield as a weapon, she noticed the loose railing and decided to use part of the training Mara had given her. Summoning all her strength into her legs she braced herself against a banister and swept Justin's out from under him.

He teetered, trying to find some balance by grasping onto the railing. The moment he did, Riley rose to her knees and shoved against him, causing his body weight to crack the rotted wood and plummet down to the main floor.

Gasping in pain from the exertion, she fell back once more on the worn carpet and closed her eyes.

"Riley!" Liam rushed the stairs, leaving Drake and Maxwell to deal with Justin.

He fell to his knees. His voice cracked as he whispered denials that he had been too late to save her.

Her eyes fluttered open only to close again as he kissed her. She could feel the exhausted desperation in his touch.

"Where are you hurt?" He asked. "Did he stab you anywhere else?"

"No." She whimpered when he eased her hand away from her wound. "Just there."

He tried to be gentle as he ripped his coat off to press against her side.

Bastien and the rest of the King's Guards burst through the doors.

"Your majesty!" He didn't bother to mask his anger. "You shouldn't have--"

"The queen has been wounded!" Liam interrupted harshly. "She requires immediate medical attention!"

Bastien hurried up to examine her while radioing for an ambulance.

"Hold on, my love." Liam pleaded. "Please. Stay with me."

She weakly grasped his hand. "Is it over? Justin didn't--"

"He's being taken care of." Liam told her. "He won't ever have a chance to harm you again."

"You're safe." Riley gasped when EMT's began to check her. Her voice became faint as blackness ebbed around her vision "I didn't lose you, Liam."

The last thing she remembered before blacking out completely was Liam's concerned face hovering over her.

***************

The Royal Palace...

A few hours later, Riley stirred. She blinked a few times to make the room she was in come into focus. A lamp turned down low glowed on a nightstand. Familiar paintings of past kings and queens hung on the walls. The beyond soft bed she was in brought back memories of a particular ball when Liam had shown her the Royal chambers.

A smile formed at that romantic thought as she sank further under the blankets.

"Riley?"

She opened her eyes again and noticed the outline of a man sitting in a chair by the bed.

"Liam?" She turned about, wincing when she felt the tug of stitches along her right side. "What happened?"

He leaned forward and took her hand in his. Pressing a kiss to it, he went through the series of events.

Images flashed through her mind, as the memories of her fight came rushing back.

"No more Sons of the Earth?" She asked.

"The ones who survived have been captured."

Her eyes widened. "Survived? Who died?"

Liam kept her hand clasped between his. "A few that Olivia and I fought...and some that you did."

Riley tried to comprehend that she had killed people. "How...how many?"

"My love, there is no need to dwell--"

"Liam." She gripped his hand. "Did I kill Justin?"

She knew by his hesitation that she had.

"The way he fell," Liam swallowed, "he broke his neck."

Riley pulled her hand away to cover her mouth.

"I beg for your forgiveness." Liam choked out. "If I had been there sooner or had--"

She shook her head while reaching for him. Urging him to lay on the bed with her, she tried to comfort him.

"You don't owe me an apology." She said through her tears. "You came to rescue me." She tried to smile. "Just like every prince does in fairy tales."

He wiped her tears. "I don't want you burdened with what happened." His eyes searched hers. "All I have ever wanted is to give you every good thing in life, not have one overshadowed with fear and guilt."

She swallowed audibly. "I'll be fine. I just...I can't believe I had to kill someone I spent time with. I actually enjoyed his company during your engagement tour." Her nose wrinkled. "The pain in my side though keeps reminding me he deserved being pushed over the banister."

"My only regret is that I didn't get a chance to be the one to end his existence on this earth." Liam's face darkened with his anger. "He dared multiple times to take you from me. He killed my father. Made our people doubt their safety and the crown's ability to defend it. If I couldn't fight him to the death myself, then I should have been the one to sentence him to such."

She cupped his cheek. Knowing he needed to vent after all they had been put through, she listened without interruption. When she felt his tense muscles relax, her mind turned to what they should do now.

"We both need to focus on it finally being over." She pressed a kiss to his lips. "All our plans to be together, to start a family, can be from this moment on. We fought for Cordonia, our friends," her smile peeked out when he kissed her, "we fought for us and for every moment we are lucky enough to share."

"You're right." Liam turned to kiss her palm. "We have a future before us, one of our choosing."

She snuggled closer in his arms, sighing as she felt sleep luring her back into its soothing confines. Just as she began to drift off, an image of Justin came to mind. It wasn't the man she had faced tonight, it was the one who helped protect her from cameras being shoved in her face during that very first meeting. She could see him pushing reporters out of her way, while holding tight to her waist.

It seems appropriate, Riley thought, to have a scar along the very spot Justin had once touched in such a deceptive, gentle manner. Having a personality that tried to only see the good in others, she would need a daily reminder to be more cautious in the future.

Her trust would never be so easily given again.

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bastardtetsu · 4 years

Text

critical thinking | ch②

pairing: kuroo tetsuro x gn!reader

genre: college au, enemies to lovers, tsundere!reader, slow burn

wc: 1.7k

warning: swearing, being a theatre major

※ mlist | ① ● ③ ④

after several weeks of douchebag exposure therapy, you’re practically numb to kuroo’s bullshit - for the most part. you still get a bit flustered when you get things wrong, but his teasing barely phases you since you’ve abandoned the concept of speaking to him with respect.

“STILL struggling with balancing equations, y/n??” he chides as you work on your homework, “jeez, maybe i need to start giving you extra assignments.”

“on god kuroo, if you try to make me do any more chemistry than is absolutely necessary i will make sure you never know a day of peace in your life.”

“but y/n,” he teases, “you know if you don’t practice you’ll never get any better.”

“i’m not trying to ‘get better,’ i’m trying to pass the class.”

“ahh, no ambition. you hate to see it.”

“wanna shut the fuck up and let me do my homework?” you snap.

“see, there’s that passion!”

he really is insufferable. you roll your eyes and groan, turning your attention away from the mocking rooster & back to your homework while he gets up to stretch his legs.

what he said wasn’t wrong, you are struggling with the whole balancing equations thing. your brain feels like it’s working on overdrive as you scribble away - numbers are definitely not your strong suit.

you can hear him start to snicker behind you as you work. you pause your writing and turn around to see him peeking over your shoulder with a sadistic smile on his face.

“is something funny?” you ask, unimpressed. his smile softens a bit as you stare him down.

“you’re doing it wrong,” he says, and leans down to correct your work. his face is much closer to yours now, you can almost feel the warmth of his breath as his arm reaches around your right side to write in your notebook while his left hand rests on the back of your chair, practically enveloping you.

resisting the urge to turn and stare at the annoying, criminally sculpted face that’s now inches away from yours, you fix your eyes on his hand as he writes and try to ignore how warm you suddenly feel.

his hands are big, you think, noticing how much smaller your pencil looks when he holds it. you can smell his cologne again, too. sandalwood or whatever.

“there, see?” he says, turning his head to look at you.

your faces are still so close.

what is it about his eyes that makes his stare feel so intense every time?

you quickly avert your gaze back to the page of notes, focusing extra hard on the numbers so you can ignore the beat your heart skipped just now. somehow, the equation in front of you looks even more indecipherable than it did before. and why does your face feel so hot?

“i… still don’t get it,” you admit tentatively. he just lets out a soft chuckle, letting his gaze drop for a second before locking eyes with you, lips curled into a smirk.

“you really are bad at this.”

another electric shock of embarrassment mixed with rage jolts through you.

“yeah, and what?” you challenge, “that makes me dumber than you? ok, well if you’re so smart why don’t you try telling me about willy loman’s superobjective in death of a salesman? or identifying the difference between verse and prose in classical text?? i bet you don’t even know who anton chekhov is, but sure, i’m the idiot because i don’t know how to balance a damn equation. how about learn your shit, and then you can teach me mine.”

kuroo just stands there for a moment, taken aback by your outburst. then the bitch starts laughing.

“what’s funny?!!” you interrogate, your voice getting louder. his laugh sounds like a goddamn hyena.

“y/n oh my god,” he chokes out between cackles, “you’re such a nerd!”

“ME??!!?!” you just about scream, furious, “you’re calling me a nerd?? have you met yourself??!”

“well at least i’m not in danger of failing a class,” he giggles.

“that has nothing to do with this,” you snap.

“so who’s anton chek-whatever?” he prods, still amused.

“see, you’re laughing but you’re the one sounding stupid this time,” you grumble. you can tell he’s just searching for something else to tease you about, but you can’t resist the opportunity to turn the tables & be the one schooling him for once. “chekhov. he’s a famous playwright. from russia. one of the early pioneers of modernism in the late 19th/early 20th century - not that you’d even know what that means.”

“you’re right, i don’t,” he relents, “but you seem like you do. nerd.” his eyes have an extra glint in them as they narrow with another taunting smirk.

“leave me alone, you’re the one who asked,” you groan, finally fed up with his antics. “look, i need to finish this homework before i get out of here. otherwise it’s never getting done.”

“i’ll check your answers when you’re finished,” he offers.

“only if you’re not a dick about it.”

“you only think I’m being a dick when you get the answer wrong.”

“SHUT UP.”

—

as midterms approach, the stress is starting to get to you as your workload gets heavier and heavier. maybe that’s why you seem extra snarky towards your annoying, hot, annoyingly hot chemistry tutor today.

“y/n, did you review chemical bonds like i told you to last week?” he chides after you get another homework question wrong. sometimes he really does sound like a teacher, or someone’s dad. but thankfully, he is neither of those things, which means you can comfortably trash him.

“sorry i have things to worry about besides memorizing how electrons work,” you snark, “what about you? this isn’t even your major, do you not have other shit to do besides come here & make fun of me?”

“hey, i do this because i love it!” he protests dramatically. you can see the smirk in his eyes.

“sure” you sneer back, “look, i don’t know about you, but some of us actually have to work for our degrees. we don’t have time to waste bullying people who don’t know science for fun.”

“who says I can’t do both?”

now you’re starting to get annoyed.

“dude for real. do you know how busy i am?? like, ALL the time??? why else do you think i’m here? i wouldn’t be in this shitty class if i had room for anything else. i can’t even go to my professor’s office hours!”

“ah, well, that explains a lot.”

“shut up,” you jab, “the only reason i keep coming back to your dumb ass tutoring hours is because my schedule is so goddamn packed i can’t meet up with anyone else.”

“sure, whatever you say y/n,” he croons, tone dripping in sarcasm.

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“oh you know,” he teases, eyes full of mischief. you really don’t though?

“you’re full of shit,” you mutter dismissively. he’s trying to egg you on to say something stupid so he can ridicule you for it, but you can see right through him.

“i’m not the one dodging the subject,” he grins, his eyes unmoving from you as you turn back to your paper. even facing away from him, you can feel his laser beam of a stare on you as if he were breathing right down your neck. ha, i wish. wait— “you know, you’re not gonna get very far on that worksheet if you didn’t do any review.”

“would you be quiet?” you snap at him, fed up with his condescension, “or better yet, maybe do your job and help me figure it out?”

“well,” he purrs with a sickly sweet smirk, “only since you asked so nicely.”

you make sure to roll your eyes extra hard at him to make up for the way your heartbeat quickened at his flirtatious tone.

thankfully, he actually obeys your request this time and tones down the teasing as he explains chemical bonds, doing his best to help you through each homework problem step-by-step. usually he can tell when you’re actually getting irritated and makes up for it like this. you’re silently grateful for this form of kindness from him, even if it’s only because you’re a nightmare to work with otherwise.

as you wrap up your session with him - late once again, but he never minds staying past the end of his tutoring hours since he has the rest of the day off anyway - you hurriedly pack your things, grumbling a complaint about how now you don’t have time to get something to eat before you meet with your scene partner to rehearse your acting midterm. while it’s pretty normal for you to miss meals because of your schedule, it’s frustrating nonetheless, especially after your brain has just been fried by molecular bonds.

“oi, y/n,” kuroo says as you turn to leave. you pause, bracing yourself for whatever stupid comment he’s about to make.

“take care of yourself,” he says, a tinge of concern just barely distinguishable in his tone, before adding, “and remember to review covalent and ionic bonds!” you sigh. he sounds like a dad again.

“see, those are contradictory statements,” you gripe, “chemical bonds could not be further from self care.” he chuckles softly at that.

“at least make sure you eat, ok? maybe you’d get better at chemistry if you had more nutrients.”

“BYE, kuroo,” you call out, already headed for the door.

as you hurry towards your next destination, you can’t get your mind off of how weird it was to see kuroo acting… worried about you? normally his reaction to your struggling is just to tease you about it, but this was new for him. you’re not sure how to feel about it, and it’s hard to tell when the adrenaline of being in a rush is making your heartbeat do all sorts of things that might be confused with something else.

either way, there’s no way you’re reviewing a goddamn thing before next week.

a/n: yeah ok my theatre major jumped out in this one.. i can’t believe i’m posting a fic where i talk about superobjectives & chekhov unironically dsfdddfs hope that doesn’t ruin the experience for u, i really tried to do some research so y/n and kuroo could have an actual discussion about chemistry but turns out i’m dumb in real life so u get this instead

#haikyuu!!#kuroo tetsuro #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsurou x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu #.txt #e writes

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coolgirl · 5 years

Note

Hey what's Jason's relationship with nocturna? It's the first time I've heard of her😣 and nothing on her wikia mentioned anything about Jason. She seems interesting character and I would like to know more about her.

okay I went. A little insane. Here's a retelling of her pre crisis arc, long as hell

(this part covers Batman #529 / Detective Comics #363 / Batman #530) ok for some context: it’s pre crisis, meaning this Jason was also a circus boy. He has recently lost his parents, and was taken by Bruce, but isn’t dealing with the loss well, finding himself missing his past life. PLUS Bruce isn’t allowing him to be his partner, and that has him sad as well.

SO he wants to go back to the circus, since hes lonely and directionless etc.

NOW. ENTER NATALIA KNIGHT! Shes a villain, think.. Catwoman meets Poison Ivy? She’s a thief, but seduces men to do the stealing mostly.

Her backstory is basically that she was an orphan living in the streets, and met who will then become his adoptive parent Charles Knight when she was 12. When she’s already an adult, Charles gets killed, and she finds out he had big money bags bc he was a criminal. and she said. awn man i like being rich. well. time to do crimes.

she’s rlly into the night and the stars (she was the head of the observatory, which Bruce was funding through his company or w/e)

anyways. she gets away, Jason helps bruce find her (but! bruce wouldnt le him help which rlly hurt jason), and as her and her partner anton are getting away (again) batman catches up to them, but only manages to bring anton to justice, while Nocturna escapes in like. one of those giant balloons idk whats the name

the issue ends with Nocturna/Natalia sending Bruce money for the maintenance of the observatory and with Jason deciding to leave

NOW onto the next part. So in this issue we have Jason escaping home, Bruce going to court against Natalia’s partner Anton, and Natalia just vibing around, and she happens to find Jason running away from home, and they have a conversation in which she tries to convince him to go back home.

but Jason. well.

So Bruce gets back home and Alfred tells him about Jason running away, and bruce, in real bruce fashion, is all like ughg i shouldve listened to him.. well lets go get him. and alfred is like. sir. do i have to remind u u arent his legal guardian yet. u have no right to decide where he stays.

so bruce is like ugh fine. i’ll go patrol then. which he does, and turns out Nocturna was trying to help Anton escape, and well it fails, and she gets captured too.

and that’s that for Natalia… for now ;)

NOW. this isn’t relevant for Natalia & Jason but again some context. Covers um covers fuck a bunch of issues. SO. what happens in this time

jason goes back to the circus but is deeply unhappy

he’s still doing detective work. hasnt seen bruce or alfred in a while

alfred visits

case stuff case stuff case stuff it was the clown all along

Jason ends up helping Bruce, since they were both working the same case separately, and they make up

NOW. a lot of shit happens not relevant to nocturna. Jason isnt robin for a while, then he uses Dicks costume, then bruce gets mad at him for that bc its not his costume, so jason uses his own costume, then dick gives him the robin costume, so jason becomes robin. um stuff stuff happens and all it matters is the panel below.

NOW! BACK TO NOCTURNA!

her comeback arc kinda starts in batman #374, where this lady is like hold on.. bruce wayne isnt jasons legal guardian wtf, is he even fit to have a kid?

so she starts digging around, asking questions

and shes like yea this is real fishy, give me that kid

so bruce and jason try to behave like uh yes no robin and batman business. let that kid be a kid.

but welp.

and so.. Jason is taken away :( and both of them are heartbroken :(

but u know what! bruce wayne is one stubborn fucker! and he will fight to have the legal guardianship!

and even if they’re not living together anyomre they’re still the dynamic duo in a way, which like. lol. this lady took this kid away bc she was worried about him but he still ran away.. tch tch tch.

they’re both rlly depressed about the situation

AND THATS WHAT U MISSED ON GLEE!!

NOW. SHES BACK. look at this epic cover

shes now parterning w a dude named nightshade or smth, and he like. rlly wants to hit that, but shes like um pause ⏸️✋my love is the night. the dude, like every other man, is like so im not getting anything from this? fuck u, and leaves. shes like whatevers, ugh how annoying i dont have a partner again & anton is still in prison… & while shes again chilling she finds out about Bruce trying to legally adopt jason & recognizes jason from the time they talked

& goes to visit him

and theres also this dude, whos not rlly relevant for now, will try to stop bruce from adopting jason which will be relevant later hehe (there's a whole subplot with him and bullock but like it's not rlly relevant to Jason n Natalia) (shrug emoji)

and so. Bruce finds out..

and so the cover becomes a reality, Bruce and Natalia WILL fight in a chuck n cheese parking lot to become Jason’s parent.. and Natalia may try to pull a reverse card on Bruce

and well. Bruce rlly has no chance now does he? and turns out Jason wants this to happen since hes convinced he can unreveal Natalia’s secrets from the inside

and a lil sweet moment between father & son

and then a moment with Amanda, who, in my opinion, did nothing wrong ever

meanwhile Anton comes back, tells Nocturna he killed the dude that was bothering her, and she gets PISSSSEDD OFF shes like u TARNISHED the night by SPILLING BLOOD, u absolute BEAST, Bruce gets there, some weird stuff happens that aged rlly poorly, then Nocturna stabs Anton to save Bruce, turns out she knows hes batman, again shes like marry me to have our son (Jason) and hes like no! and leaves. While Bruce tries to find Anton, Jason is like ive HAD IT i wanna go out, but Natalia stops him

then the next morning Amanda gets her head straight and talks to Jason

but well Jason is hellbent on exposing Natalia from the inside or w/e, and eventually she gets the custody, even if Amanda tries to convince him and the judge Bruce is a better choice (since she noticed Jason clearly favors him and was in pain when he wasnt at the wayne manor)

and everyone is coddling Bruce which im adding bc its cute and i miss this relationship Bruce had with Vicki and Julia

MEANWHILE, at the knight house. mad hatter is a a weird creepy rat bastard n tries to get control of Natalia & get the information of her brain or smth. Batman gets there & we get a Batman vs Controlled nocturna fight and then Robin also arrives and its Batman & Robin vs Nocturna, but B tells Jason to focus on getting Mad Hatter, which he does and then gets Nocturna back to normal whatever, and she again asks Bruce to marry her, which hes again like no thank u! the issue ends with this page which is rlly sweet imo

next up Anton is back but it doesnt matter rlly. a woman is tending to him, n because shes blind hes like. im batman. yeah. and she believes it.

AND then Jason is formally adopted by Natalia

Jason is still trying to find proof that shes evil, and they share a moment.

but jason is like. gotta fight crime! and so Natalia is like well i tried. wanna go be robin a bit?

Batman & Robin go after mad hatter, and then Nocturna joins them bc shes epic

and takes jay home bc its a school night smh

Natalia & Jason spend some time together but Jason still doesn’t warm up to Natalia which like. makes sense since shes a villain and all that, but she tries nevertheless

and then everyones most hated bitch comes back (Yes, anton) n he attacks Natalia, and then Jason when he hears the ruckus and goes to help

but gets a chop

but! Bruce was just on his way to visit them so

fight fight bruce gets shot in the head n gets amnesia and thinks the dude anton shot & killed was him

Anton swaps their costumes n makes Bruce believe that Anton is batman not him? or smth

afterwards Jason blames himself

and him & Natalia team up to find Bruce which includes.. carrying a corpse around

for three days (well. nights) anton just runs around stealing n shit dressed as batman, n bruce is. literally chilling on a rooftop. alfred is losing his mind bc !? jason hasnt contacted him!? about what happened!? but Julia comes home and comforts him

gotham is a lil in chaos with gordon vicki vale n bullock being suspicious, and the girl who was helping anton finds the stuff he stole and realizes hes not batman.

on the fourth night Jason n Natalia find Anton

n they fight him

but Anton gets the upper hand w Nocturna so Jason jumps in to defend her

and then Nocturna defends Jason bc thats his baby

but Anton doesnt get like. killed w that ofc, and hes like fuck u i’ll kill u one day but when the kid isnt here and after batman has fallen, bye (throws jason from building)

and Natalia reagroup n well.. some things are said

bc like even if Nocturna is helping shes a villain.. right? (thinking emoji)

meanwhile Bruce finally got his mind back. not important. who cares. the lady who was helping Anton goes to the police to tell them about Anton/fake batman dun dun dun. but Anton finds out and knocks out the policeman who went w the girl (Tina!) to check for proof n shit.

and guess whos back! amanda!

back to new dynamic duo

so Jason the little rascal (can i say hes a rascal when hes doing the hero thing n trying to expose a criminal?) goes looking for proof that Natalia is Nocturna n stuff, and finds some stolen things

1. singsonging.. hes such a little shit lmaoo, 2. she was worried… pause…

anyways. they have a confrontation

in which Natalia swears shes reformed, but Jason doesnt buy it, and is like. im gonna get gordon! and Natalia is like.. do what u think is best

but. he can’t do it..

n hes like. well shes not bad anymore.. i wish i could go back to bruce without sending her to prison which… please development.. n natalia DOES want his love..

AND THEN! BRUCE IS BACK! and he teams up with Nocturna to find Anton, but its just their luck Amanda sees them

they do sm stuff not relevant and then Bruce is like go back to ur son now, and Natalia is like.. OUR son :)

well whatever whatever they get Anton, Bruce goes back to being Batman, they clear his reputation, Jason goes back to the manor since Amanda saw Natalia, etc

(he munches he crunches) also im gonna add this that isnt relevant bc its just so funny, buenos dias alfred

anyways stuff hapens, like idk 14 issues without nocturna, the most important bit that happened is that selina is back. which she was gone. yeah. but shes back and around.

ANYWAYS! 15 issues later! shes back! some dudes entered her old observatory n were vandalizing and she was like hold up

meanwhile we have Jason calling amanda bc he well.. misses his mom and as much as he loves bruce and hes his dad its not the same for some reason

jason in every universe: i miss my mom i want my mom :(

at school Jason overheards some kids talking about Natalia in the observatory

Jason goes looking for Natalia n turns out Bullock was also trying to see what was happening in the observatory, so they kinda team up for two whole panels to find her

but Jason is like im not telling u shit.. n goes w Natalia on his own

google always taking pics

n they share a moment ;_____;

n theyre reunited.. now ur gonna have to excuse me bc i didnt download the high quality of the next tec issues n all the download links are sadly broken

but… what about natalia?

then bullock finds them

well bullock lets her go n while retelling the stuff to gordon he has.. a theory

meanwhile Nocturna.. well Nocturna is back at it again, taking charge of a band of thieves.. sigh.

anyways, they talk, theres something weird happening w the sky that may mean the world is ending or smth, and they make up AND make out

n they have a talk thats basically like. what now? should we be together? well depends if ur still gonna steal. i need funds to get the observatory back in track (HELLO BRUCE IS RICH HE COULD PAY IT..) and hes like oh so ur gonna be a thief again.. and shes like well havent u noticed im only stealing from corrupt rich politicians!? (QUEEN) n theres this gorgeous shot

n then they go their separate ways bc its fucking batman

anyways. Selina was also investigating the group of thieves (that were like black masks old gang but he was sent to prison so Nocturna took over etc) and she sees Nocturna leaving and follows her to the Observatory but.. Jason is there too

Selina wants her GOOOONE she needs to clear her name but Jason is like. over my dead body

n well ……. the girls are fightinggggggggggggggggggggggggg

but Bruce intercepts

n now Batman n Catwoman fight and its like the girls are fightingggggg… 2! but doesnt matter look at them

and then Selina gets struck by lightning

n then theres a earthquake bc god what a damn comic, and the observatory collapses, and Natalia is trapped inside

anyways Selina is in the hospital, Anton is still killing people and knows where she is and is trying to get to her, and this little scene happens with Jason n B

n while Bruce stays with Selina Jason goes to find Natalia which is so funny like. she went to Natalia, his mom, when Bruce told him to go home and well– we al know that story.

n now its a race to get to Natalia before Anton gets to her

n its rlly sad bc like Natalia is ready to die

but both Bruce n Jason are trying to reach her

and here comes Jason!

AND LIKE. the fact she wants to live after all bc of Jason rlly makes me emotional not gonna lie! not gonna lie!

and no offense but a mother’s love………………………………….. no thoughts head empty

first of all i hate anton so fucking much. secondly here comes batdad..

n Jason tries to help Natalia escape and then get back to Bruce who is getting his ass kinda kicked

guess whos coming in that helicopter.. selina freaking kyle.. the legend.. and she helps Bruce with Anton.

I REALLY DONT GET THIS TBH LIKE. he puts her into the giant balloon so she can get away but like shes hurt buddy shes gonna die up there..

and. shes gone.

n Jason is absolutely devastated

n like. Bruce. as always. is like ok champ i see u got it in control, lmk when u wanna go home

LIKE HES SO SAD.. OF COURSE HES SAD THAT WAS HIS MOM....

And thats. pretty much it. Natalia is gone.

However Jason still grieves her, and when Bruce and Selina are trying to get back together and... hes not a big fan of their relationship.. at all. But bruce tries to pair them up so they can become at least friends, since he loves them both and doesnt want to like. pick between his son and his lover

and they make a fine team, even if Jason grieving Natalia and how Selina doesnt want to take her place is brought up a couple times :(

and it gives it a bittersweet ending to the arc

and well. thats it. thats the Jason and Natalia dynamic.

Natalia reappers later post crisis but well w/o her connection to Jason.. and i really dont wanna talk about the version of her that appears in batwoman comics LOL.

conclusion: natalia was a bad lady, who at first wanted to use jason to get money from bruce, but then she had a change of heart, and development and became a kind of anti hero? well not antihero just.. she was trying her best man. i wish she hadnt disappeared like she couldve stayed relevant to jasons story without having to be romantically with bruce? bc if u read her comics u can see that she was killed off/voided for batcat to comeback which... typical batcat! anyways. i think she genuinely loved and cared for jason and that jason loved her and cared for her right back :(

#Anon #long post #jason todd #natalia knight #I think a lot of stuff about super early nocturna didnt age well BUT. IT GOT RETCONNED!! and she got a deserved redeption arc i think

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destroy-the-cannon · 4 years

Text

Fire With Fire, a Oneshot

I’m back and at my usual shit again! I don't actually have a new chapter of the fit this week. I had a crap ton of family issues to deal with, but thankfully that’s all over now. I promise that from now on it’ll be a much more regular schedule, but I just couldn’t finish the chapter this week, and would rather give you something crappy than nothing at all. I want to make it clear that this is IN NO WAY part of my main story. This is a completely separate piece. But that’s enough jabber. So please enjoy (or enjoy making fun of) this Anton-era one shot I did a while back.

Taglist: @sirbeepsalot @kingliam2019 @kamilahsayeet2063 @cordonian-literature

Story Tags: Rival get romantic, swords, queer romance.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, mature language, weapons.

“YA! YA! YA!” Olivia bared her teeth as she lunged at Paige. Her blade glinted in the sun as she drove it straight towards her opponent’s neck. Paige blocked it with infuriating ease and a quick grin, swirling around to make a thrust at Olivia’s stomach.

“Has anyone ever told you that you can be-”, Pant, stab, perry, laugh- “Just a tad aggressive?” Olivia was fighting too hard to answer. She let out a savage roar as she threw herself forward, blade pointed right towards the other duchess’s neck.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t trying to actually kill Paige, much as she wanted to at the moment. It was training. Mara and Bastien had decided that it was high time that the group of nobles learned how to properly defend themselves, mainly because the two guards were apparently incapable of doing their actual jobs. Every time an actual threat seemed to surface, they were conveniently nowhere to be found. But oh, when the occasional party goer or paparazzo got too rowdy, they were on the case!

It didn’t help that the Prince of Charity and the Duchess of Weakness didn’t have the balls to hire new, more competent guards. It seemed that Lady Dumb and Sir Dumber were locked into their positions for life, no matter how incompetent they proved to be. It was something of a blessing that the nobles were finally receiving proper training; Olivia was certain that when the time came, there would be nobody around to protect them but each other.

And as delightful as it was to have official permission to point a blade at Paige’s throat, Olivia hated how… competent the other woman had proved to be when it came to sparring.

Well, maybe competent wasn’t the word for it. Maybe incredible, legendary, or awe-inspiring might’ve worked better. There were some other ones, too, but the Nevrakis chose to ignore them.

They were currently aboard one of the royal ships. It was enormous, beautiful, but mostly decorative. It was far too slow and clunky to be useful in an actual ocean battle, but it was going to have to make do. Liam had thought that for this year’s royal tour, it would be charming to go by boat and visit some of the seaside duchies. It made them more of a target than an unmarked train would’ve, but maybe that was the point. They were all tired of running and hiding, Olivia especially. Cowering wasn’t exactly a Lythikosian specialty; they faced their opponents head-on, like warriors. She was ready to be done with all this, and finally snatch up a moment of peace with her… friends. It was hard to admit, but that was how she was finally coming to see those idiots. Not as allies, but as people she cared about. It was hard to stomach, so she tried to think about it as little as possible.

Which brings us right back around to the deck of the Athenian Dream, where Olivia was currently fighting for her life while trying desperately not to show it.

She had no idea how the fuck Paige had managed to get so good, but she was incredible, truly. Taking another crude swipe, Olivia ground her teeth, trying not to let her frustration show. Where Paige’s method was elegant and quick, Olivia’s was heavy and aggressive. She didn’t make witty jokes, or twirl, or laugh. She cut out the showmanship and went straight for the kill.

“Ha! Take that! And that! And that!” Paige practically skipped around the deck as she struck. Her blade was a blur as she twisted it into a series of complicated moves. “And THIS!” She grinned and threw out a savage swipe.

She should’ve been able to block it.

Her opponent was clearly expecting her to. It would’ve been easy, nothing more than a quick lean to the side. But Olivia felt glued to the spot. She was tired, so tired, and Paige made for an infuriating enemy. A simple ponytail swung from her head, somehow still intact. She was wearing a gorgeous black workout set that fit her distractingly well, and her eyes sparkled with almost childlike joy. The sun tangled its rays in her dark hair, and for a moment Olivia found herself entranced with the halo effect.

Until she felt a sudden, sharp sting near her neck. She hissed, nearly dropping her sword. Stretching her neck, she saw a thin cut bleeding on her shoulder. Not serious, but messy. Paige inhaled sharply and took a step forward, her brow crumpled with concern.

“Shit, Olivia, I’m so sorry. There’s a first aid kit on board, do you want to stop for the day?” She stepped closer, and Olivia suddenly couldn’t bear the lack of distance between them. The throbbing in her shoulder only spurred her sudden burst of anger.

“HE YAAAAAAAA!” She screamed wildly as she lunged for Paige, who stumbled back with a look of surprise.

“Woah! Shit, Olivia, please!”

Olivia didn’t stop. She couldn’t, really. She was yelling like a banshee as she came forward with everything she had. Paige was barely keeping up, her pleas going unheard. She narrowly missed getting her arm taken off by a particularly intense slash, twin roses of red blooming on her cheeks. Her features sharpened all at once as she realized that Olivia wasn’t playing.

They had chosen to practice sans their usual protection that afternoon. It was exhausting to pull the heavy gear on and off, not to mention the oppressive afternoon heat. Paige and Olivia had always had more of a knack for bladework, and the two had only ever practiced with Mara. A little friendly competition had seemed like a fun way to pass some time on a slow day. But now, as Olivia’s blade tore a wide rip in the side of leggings, Paige wished more than ever that she’d asked Liam instead.

“Ha! Where are the jokes now, hm? Come on, where’s that legendary Valtorian wit? Cat got your tongue?” Olivia snarled as she sliced her weapon through the air. She tried (and frankly, failed) to keep her gaze from drifting to the tear she’d put on her opponent’s bottoms, exposing the skin there. Paige was now fighting back, but she didn’t look happy about it. She wasn’t going as hard as she had been, and she wasn’t laughing. She was fighting purely to keep herself intact.

Olivia’s adrenaline was beginning to falter slightly as she danced around the deck. Glancing around wildly, she saw that they had grown closer to the side of the boat. They hadn’t established a way to win when they started, but the duchess figured that if she could pin Paige to the portside and press the flat of her blade against the other woman’s throat, that must count as a victory. She would win, and all would be right with the world. She could go back to the palace, wash up, and pretend that none of this ever happened. She could put Paige and everything she came with into a little box inside her mind. It would all be over as soon as she won.

“Olivia, seriously! You’re freaking me out, let’s just go.”

“We’re not leaving until I’ve won. We are going to end this PROPERLY!” Swoosh. Turn. Stab, step, charge and-

Thunk. Paige’s back hit the portside.

“Any last words?” Olivia murmured low in the other duchess’s ear. She pressed the flat of her blade against her windpipe, just loose enough for her to breath comfortably.

Olivia had expected the moment to be supremely satisfying, but was instead to distracted by her and Paige’s proximity to care. She realized with dull horror that she had started clutching the other woman’s hip, her nails digging in to the exposed flesh where her leggings had been torn. Olivia flicked her gaze down to Paige’s gently parted lips, her breath hitching. While part of her wanted to throw more distance between the two of them, the other part wanted desperately to close the gap and cut throught the tension. She spoke, trying to push down her growing desperation.

“So. Guess I win.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“What?”

All Olivia saw was the flash of a smug grin before Paige grabbed her by the hair and pressed their lips together.

The sword fell from the Nevrakis’s hand and fell onto the deck with a loud clatter. Neither woman noticed.

It was rough, hot, tender, and so fucking satisfying. Months of frustration and anger and want and need poured out between them. Olivia hands wrapped tighter around Paige’s hips and pulled the two of them closer together, closing any gaps between them. She tipped her head back as the kiss grew deeper and deeper, sighing deeply. It was perfect, it was growing, it…

Paige pulled back and put on an absolutely insufferable smirk, eyes alight.

“Seems like I’m the real winner here.” She grinned and pulled from Olivia’s grip, picking up the fallen sword from the deck. She brandished it once, twice, then peered up through her lashes with a challenging look.

“Another round?”

#enemies to lovers #choices #choices stories you play #the royal heir #the royal romance #the royal romance mc #olivia nevrakis

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bobasheebaby · 4 years

Text

What Hurts the Most- Learning to Breathe chapter 9

Pairing: Widow Riley (Drake x MC), no pairing yet

Word count: 2,150

Warnings: bone crushing angst, mention of character death, grief, depression

Summary: Liam pays Riley a visit.

Song inspiration: What Hurts the Most (State of Mine version)

A/N: I have no heart because I have crushed it, my chest is now an empty pit that aches from this. That’s my way of telling you this is gonna hurt go grab your comfort drink, a blanket and tissues, you will need it.

A/N2: I wrote a lot of the painful stuff with rum in my system and it wasn’t enough to numb the pain so ummm yea this is gonna hurt.

A/N3: to my knowledge (and I did look) the book is completely made up for the story.

A/N4: An extra special thank you to @sirbeepsalot for all your evil ideas as well as your support, prereading for me and overall boo-ness.

Series warnings: This series will follow Riley, Liam and Bastien after Drake’s death. It will deal with the grief and pain of losing a loved one. Possible NSFW content to come. Possibly dark. If you click read more you acknowledge you are at least 18 years of age.

Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist.

Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters, I’m simply borrowing from PB for a bit.

Liam idly tapped the wrapped package as he waited to see if Riley would be willing to speak to him. It was a full month since she’d given birth, their friends hadn’t even told him that the baby was born, he learned from the brief announcement like the rest of the country. He didn't have a name, all he knew was Riley had a boy, his weight and length and that they were both healthy.

He nearly called her a dozen times since he learned of her child’s birth, each time stopping short of pushing ‘call’.

It felt weird to him that he was the last of the friends to hear, that he hadn’t even met the baby, hopefully that will all change today. All the conversations with Drake over the years they had agreed that they would be the first to know, the child’s uncle and godfather, of course, earned that right. Now he was … well he wasn’t sure if Riley would even see him, he probably wouldn’t even get a glimpse of Drake’s child until she officially released a photograph.

How far he’d fallen, from best friend to nothing.

He couldn’t fault her, he no longer deserved the title he’d held most of his life. A best friend wouldn’t stand and watch as someone killed their friend. A best friend would have thrown themselves in front of a bullet much in the way Drake had for Riley.

In the beginning he had tried to reason that since Drake had willingly taken a bullet for her before that he had made the correct choice. Was he just fooling himself, was he merely trying to erase a guilty conscience? Was it truly better that Drake’s child, Drake's son, grew up without his father because of his own selfishness. I should have told him to kill me, spare them both and take me instead.

He shook his head, he knew even if he had thrown himself in front of the gun that Anton would never kill him. Anton wanted to watch him suffer.

And he had suffered, for the last nine months he had suffered alone in silence. He had to stay strong, ever the stoic king, but inside he was completely shattered, he wasn’t even sure that her forgiveness would fully heal him. He would forever carry the guilt that not only had he been the reason his best friend had died but a son grew up without a father and the woman he loves became a widow.

Liam stood, his eyes wide in surprise as he watched her descend the stairs. She came. He gulped, unsure what to make of her agreeing to speak to him.

He had hoped, but he was nearly positive that she would have sent him packing unseen.

His eyes snapped to the monitor in her hand he hadn’t noticed until the instant a loud cry broke through.

Riley turned with a sigh, “Bas, I hate to ask,” her eyes drifted to his injured leg, “but could you get him for me?”

Bastien glanced between Liam and Riley, clearly concerned for her safety. Liam felt like the world shattered all over again, how was it possible that now he had become the threat?

“I won’t be long,” Riley glanced over her shoulder, “send Hana if I’m not back in ten minutes.”

Liam watched the exchange in shock. When did they get close?

Bastien took the monitor from Riley with a nod before turning to retreat up the stairs.

Riley turned back to him, her head held high, though he could see she was struggling to contain her anger as she continued down the last few steps. “What brings you by today, Your Majesty?”

Liam flinched at the bite in her tone. True their last few conversations hadn’t been pleasant, but he could still remember when she spoke to him with what he could only describe as affection in her voice. “I came by to personally extend my well wishes to you after the birth of your son.”

Riley arched her brow in a way that reminded him purely of Olivia. When did she learn that? Has she only been shutting me out? He could still remember a time when Riley and Olivia could barely remain civil and now she was doing her best impersonation of her. “Why are you really here?”

Liam felt as though he was punched in the face. He felt like a stranger who no longer knew any of his friends, and maybe he was. He was hurt, wounded. The way she spoke to him like he was nothing. “When did you and Bastien become so close?”

“Excuse me?”

He stepped forward, fueled by a mixture of pain, regret, adrenaline, and fear. “I thought you were heartbroken about Drake, didn’t seem so heartbroken a minute ago.”

“I am heartbroken about Drake, and you don’t have the right to come in here and judge me and my life!” Riley stepped closer, “I have worked hard to try to piece my life back together after you told that psychopath to kill my husband! It’s been hard, but I’m slowly figuring out how to live without Drake.

The only reason I’m standing here today instead of crying in my bed like I did for months is because of my friends, my family.

So how about you worry less about how close I am to my guard and friend and start worrying about finding the man who murdered my husband!”

Riley laughed at the stunned expression on Liam’s face, “what, did you think somehow I’d go back to you? After you played a part in me becoming completely broken?”

Liam swallowed, deep down maybe he’d hoped.

“Oh my god! You did! Well guess what, I will piece myself together, perhaps I will even move on, but it will never be with you.

How could you even think that we are a possibility when all I ever see when I look at you is the man that sentenced my husband to death.

You may not have been his executioner, but you are the one who signed his death warrant.

You are the reason that I still wake in a cold sweat whenever I dream of that day.

That day was supposed to be my happiest, and you made it one of the worst days of my life.

You broke me in more ways than I ever thought possible, but I’m trying to prove to myself that I am strong enough, that I can prevail on my own no matter how much it hurts.

So no, while someday I may be able to give you forgiveness, I will never be able to grant you my heart.” She wiped at her cheeks, unwilling to allow him to even see her so raw and broken again.

“Now, tell me why you really came here or get the hell out!”

She glanced at the stairs, probably waiting for someone to come because of her shouting, Liam thought.

Liam faltered, never before had he felt so unsure of his words. He always prided himself on being able to answer any question without losing his composure, and yet here he stood at a complete loss for words.

He felt guilty for bringing up how close she seemed to have grown with Bastien. He knew it had been hard for her, yet she had the support of friends while he tried to move on with scotch as his only comfort.

He’d nearly broken and told her when she mentioned Anton, but if she knew he had kept his capture from her for months that she would only go off in another fiery rage. The truth could wait, now he needed to try to smooth things over the best he was able.

He cleared his throat, “I found this,” he held out the wrapped package, “and thought that your son might enjoy it.”

Riley carefully eyed him before finally accepting the wrapped parcel. “What is it?” Her finger tapped the blue paper and he couldn’t help but notice that her nails were dull and short as though she’d bitten them. He still remembered when her nails were perfectly manicured and topped with a glossy finish.

He finally allowed himself to take in her appearance. Her hair was pulled back in a messy bun and lacked its usual luster. She had purple bags beneath her eyes that no longer shone as brightly as they once had. He could tell that even with help that caring for Drake’s child alone was taking its toll on her.

“Please, just open it.” He knew he overstepped, he knew it the second the words escaped his lips. It’s was far too late to fix it, to fix any of the damage he’d caused, his only hope now was to show that he had good intentions even.

He hadn’t even fully allowed himself to process her words yet, though they echoed clearly in the back of his mind: I will piece myself together, perhaps I will even move on, but it will never be with you. Never be with you, those words stung but he couldn’t allow the pain to penetrate his protective barrier.

Now wasn't the time for him to once again lose his cool, he needed to show her he was capable of letting go of all his hopes and dreams no matter how much it made his chest ache. He needed to let her see that he heard her and understood and put her own well-being above his own. God it hurt to know she could never be his, but she was more important than his own selfish needs.

Riley’s brow furrowed as she gave him a questioning look. He was damn lucky she hadn’t already thrown him out after his unwarranted interest in her life. You broke me, you don’t get a say in what my life looks like as I move on.

Liam sighed, “it’s a book, it was Drake’s.” I know it doesn’t make up for things, I’m sorry, please stop shutting me out. “It was Drake’s favorite book when we were kids. He was a bit embarrassed by it, not sure if he told you. But I know he would have shared it with his son.”

He nervously swallowed as her glare somehow became more pronounced, her meaning was clear: he would have if you hadn’t killed him.

He fought the urge to shake his head, none of this was going the way he had hoped. He knew she still hated him, and he’d only made things worse, but he was hoping that this gesture would show her just how sorry he was.

“It was his favorite Greek myth, there was something about Atlas’s story that just seemed to resonate with him.”

“A-atlas?” Riley’s heart pounded in her chest at the name. There was no way Liam could possibly know her son’s name, she didn’t release it to Ana DeLuca or any other member of the press.

It was possible one of her friends could have mentioned it, but after the silent treatment she’d given Maxwell when he’d let it slip she was pregnant she was sure they were more careful when speaking to him.

He keeps saying ‘son’ if he knew Atlas’s name he would use it. Her fingers trembled as she tore at the sky blue paper. Slowly the cover was revealed. Atlas: the Boy who Held the World.

Riley struggled to breathe, it felt as though all the air had been forced from her lungs leaving her nearly gasping for air.

“Riley, are you okay?” Liam asked, gently laying his hand on her arm.

Her eyes flashed as she wrenched her arm free from his touch, a sudden rage fueling her. “Who told you?” She demanded holding up the old worn book as emphasis.

“Told me what?” Liam was reeling, while he’d hoped for a pleasant interaction he wasn’t expecting it. He never expected to watch her nearly break before turning back to hatred. “I don’t understand what you mean Riley.”

“Who. Told. You. His. Name.” She spoke slowly, pausing after each word emphasizing her anger towards Liam.

Liam gaped at Riley unsure what could have caused such an extreme reaction. He caught a flash of the book’s cover out of the corner of his eye, his name. She wanted to know who told me his name.

He took a step back as it clicked. “Y—you named him Atlas?”

“I did, not that it’s any concern of yours. If that is all you wanted you can see yourself out.”

His eyes darted towards the stairs, surely it’d been ten minutes already. He wasn’t sure if she’d requested Hana for his sake or hers.

His heart ached, begged for him to reach out for her. “I wish you and Atlas all the best.” Even if it will never be with me.

Feedback fuels me, please like, comment reblog or send an ask. Feel free to scream, I promise I can take it.

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jovialyouthmusic · 4 years

Text

Silver Service

Anton has been poisoned - who is guilty?

Word Count 2767

A/N No warnings - but there is a wee bit of a cliffhanger, sorry!

20 Whodunnit?

Liam looked haggard as he sat behind his desk in his office at the Palace in a meeting with Bastien and Lewis, head in his hands.

‘So it seems the only person who could have delivered the poison was Lucretia?’

‘I’m afraid that we can’t rule out Olivia’ said Bastien. ‘After all, how could Lucretia deliver the poison? We’re scouring High Castle for security breaches and interviewing all the staff, even though they’ve all already been vetted.’ Liam’s face clouded with anger

‘If you’re going to accuse Olivia of doing something so terrible, I have to question whether your men were blameless too’ he said in a low tone. Bastien held his ground.

‘Of course all the members of the Guard have regular performance reviews and assessments. I’m sorry your Majesty, I only mention Lady Olivia because if I don’t someone else will, and we won’t be prepared to refute the accusation. We have to be one step ahead if any of these details come up – and they may very well end up being brought to light in a court of law in the near future.’ Liam sat back, deflated, rubbing his hand over his forehead

‘Of course you’re right Bastien. It will be a moot point if Anton doesn’t survive’ Liam said grimly ‘If he dies, the Crown is safe, but someone will be guilty of murder or assassination. Do we have an update on his condition?’

‘He’s unresponsive.’ Lewis cut in ‘There’s a possibility he’s suffered brain damage from lack of oxygen and swelling, and until we find out what that powder in the envelope was they’re unsure how to treat him.’

‘Of course we’re liaising closely with Olivia’s head of security’ Bastien pointed out ‘and an expert in Lythican poisons and methods of execution and assassination. The awkward thing is, everything Lucretia has access to, so does Olivia. I think on balance I’d better make for Lythikos as soon as possible. I need to call Olivia first though – I’ll let you know what she says’ He tapped his phone, making it clear that he was going to use it as soon as Bastien was out of the room. He got up carefully, taking his cane in hand and left the King alone. Liam tapped Olivia’s number and waited.

‘Good morning your Majesty’ Her voice was clipped and cool.

‘Are you alone?’

‘Not just now – give me a moment’ He heard muffled voices and then she spoke again. ‘I am now. Tell me - how’s my so called husband?’ Now she sounded weary, and his heart went out to her.

‘Not good’

‘I’m delighted to hear it’

‘Livvy, Bastien pointed out to me that to an outsider it might seem that you could be seen as a suspect in his attempted murder’ He heard her suck her breath in, and there was a pause before she spoke.

‘I can see that. Much as I’d like to see him dead, I can assure you I had nothing to do with it. I’ve been hard at work here making sure the Court is properly housed and entertained’

‘I’m very glad to hear you say that, Livvy. That leaves Lucretia as the main suspect - not personally - but she must have found a way to get a message out. Bastien’s at a loss as to how the envelope got past security. All the staff are vetted, but they can’t find a gap in the perimeter’

‘That’s vexing’ Olivia said ‘Do we know who last occupied the property?’

‘The last person to actually live in it passed away ten years ago. That part of the coast was reputably used by smugglers, so there may very well be some sort of network of passages or a hidden cave nearby, but Bastien’s men didn’t find anything.’

‘The old smugglers were very wily and anti establishment, and they may well have passed their knowledge on to the Sons of the Earth, or they had means of finding out’ Olivia mused

‘I’ll mention it to Bastien, though I expect he’s already thought of that.’ He paused for a moment before going on thoughtfully ‘Livvy, I’m going to join you as soon as I can. We were scheduled to leave tomorrow to give us a couple of days before it all kicks off, but I’ll bring that forward. I’ll let you know when I’m on my way’

‘Liam, you don’t have to’ she said wearily

‘Forgive me for disagreeing with you, Livvy’ he said softly ‘Even if you don’t want to see me, I most certainly want to be near you’ There was a short silence.

‘Thankyou Liam’ her tone was soft for a moment, then changed ‘I have a better idea - I’ll come to you. I’d like to see that bastard husband of mine suffering.’ He could picture her determined expression and the hard line of her lips.

‘Okay Livvy. Tell me when you set off, and we’ll pay him a visit together’

------

The news of Anton’s admittance to hospital set tongues wagging. It was like casting a stone into a clear pool and watching the ripples spread out. Thanks to Bastien’s quick thinking and Sophia’s help on a press release, when Olivia arrived in the capital she was ready for the accusations that she had arranged for her betrothed’s murder, making a brief statement from the Palace.

Bastien and Lewis arranged to have Lucretia brought to the security suite in the Palace along with her lawyer. She was surprisingly co-operative, and when the meeting started, she was ahead of the game. She and her lawyer sat on one side of the table in the interrogation room, and the two men sat facing her. Liam and Olivia sat in the adjoining room behind the one way security screen. Lewis started off the recording equipment, and Bastien spoke, giving the date and stating the participants in the interview. Before he had a chance to say anything else, Lucretia spoke.

‘Mr Lykel, I understand that there is speculation regarding the poisoning of Anton Severus. That speculation concerns my niece Lady Olivia, am I correct?’

‘You are, your grace’ Bastien’s mind worked swiftly So she wants to play it this way. Let’s see where she’s leading. She sat up straight and drew a deep breath.

‘I wish to make a statement to you and my lawyer, and I wish it to be made public. I would prefer that statement be witnessed by a representative of the Cordonian Press and TV news channel, but understand that would be unlikely to be granted’

‘I would have to know the nature of the statement, your grace’ he replied, his face passive. She sniffed

‘No matter then. This interview and a written and signed statement to you and my lawyer will have to do initially as I feel time is pressing. After that, you can decide whether to involve the media.’

‘Please go on, your grace’

‘Very well’ She drew a deep breath ‘I understand that speculation has been made that my niece, Lady Olivia Vanderbilt Nevrakis, was implicit in the poisoning of her betrothed, Anton Severus. I would like to make it clear that she had no part in the matter. That is because I am responsible for that act and she had no knowledge of it.’ At last Bastien reacted – but only by raising an eyebrow.

‘Can you prove that, your grace? How did you manage that when you are under house arrest?’

‘I got a message out to my housekeeper in a coded letter, handed over unwittingly by my lawyer.’ she said ‘She passed on that message to an operative in Portaviera who accessed the house where Anton was kept via a smuggler’s passage. I have written details down in a letter which I have given to my lawyer’ Bastien frowned and sat back in his chair while the lawyer shifted uncomfortably.

‘May I ask why you thought it appropriate to poison Lord Severus, your grace?’

‘I deemed that he was not worthy of the privilege of my niece’s hand in marriage and thought it best to terminate his claim to the throne.’

‘I was under the impression that you supported Anton’s claim, your grace’ Bastien pointed out.

‘It was an arrangement that went back centuries’ Lucretia replied ‘I was obliged to uphold it, but it became evident to me that Severus and his organisation were ineffectual. When I realised my niece was unwilling to cooperate, my allegiance to the arrangement was undermined’

‘So you decided, entirely independently, to terminate Anton Severus’ Bastien asked

‘I did.’ She said briefly, and Bastien feared that she might, as in the past, stop talking altogether. Luckily Lewis had the same thought and cut in.

‘What type of poison did you use, Lucretia?’ He asked ‘Tell us the antidote – co-operate and it may mitigate any penalty you are subjected to.’ Lucretia laughed

‘Mr Lewis, I am no longer young. I only wish to see my niece on the throne, I don’t care for my own comfort.’ She sneered ‘The poison cannot be neutralised, and would only harm a handful of people. I knew that Lord Severus was allergic to shellfish, and part of the poison was an extract of mussel shells. The other part is a closely guarded secret – a herb that only grows in Lythikos and which will only work on someone whose immune system is already compromised by something such as an allergic reaction. It was almost tailor made for Anton’ She leaned forward over the table.

‘Let me say this, Mr Lykel. I know that Olivia is pregnant with Liam’s child.’ Bastien fought to keep his expression passive and heard Lewis take a sharp intake of breath.

‘That is something I can’t comment on, your grace’ Bastien replied.

‘No matter, I know what I know’ she said ‘I feel that an alliance between the bloodlines of Rys and Nevrakis would be very beneficial to Cordonia. If there had been such an arrangement when Olivia was born, I would be a different woman. I have spent my life plotting for House Nevrakis to come into power with the Severus line, and I deeply regret it. I don’t need to be told whether I’m right or wrong - I saw my niece and I’m certain of it. I know she is fond of the King and I doubt if she would take up with anyone else – she certainly wasn’t receptive to her husband’s charms. I think you’ll find that I have solved any problems the King might have’

‘What exactly did you mean by solving the King’s problems?’ Bastien asked.

‘I think you’ll find that out for yourself by the end of the week’ she said, and clamped her mouth tight shut.

-------

Anton lay pale and unresponsive in a private room at the capital’s hospital, hooked up to a heart monitor, now able to breathe unaided, but showing no signs for regaining full consciousness. The room was guarded round the clock, and no visitors were allowed without written permission from the King, Bastien or Lewis. Liam and Olivia went to see the doctor in charge of the case.

‘Your Majesty, even though we know that Lord Severus’s condition was triggered by a reaction to an allergen, the poison administered had a second unknown active ingredient.’ The doctor informed him, confirming what Lucretia had told Bastien. ‘There has been some swelling in the brain, and until that goes down, we won’t know if there is any damage’

‘I see. I want him to receive the best care – I don’t want anyone saying that I neglected him in the hope that he dies as a result of this unfortunate incident’ Olivia fought to keep her expression neutral.

‘Very well, your grace. All we can do now is keep him comfortable and wait to see what happens.’

‘I’d like to speak to him – do you think he would be able to hear and understand me?’

‘I really can’t say, your grace. These cases vary a lot, and as many in a similar condition pass away without regaining full consciousness, we aren’t in a position to predict what he might be feeling or what mental faculties he might have’ The Doctor sighed ‘But you are welcome to try. Who knows, it may spur him on to recovery. Please, go ahead. If you notice any change, let the nurses know.’ Liam inclined his head and motioned to Olivia to follow him to Anton’s room, where the guard stood aside for them.

‘Thankyou Parker. I’ll call if I need anything’ He said as he was ushered into the room. Anton lay in the bed, his face pale and slack, a steady beep emitting from the heart monitor. His breath was shallow and quiet, and Liam drew close, gazing at his face. Olivia stood behind him, scowling.

‘Well Severus, I don’t know if you can hear me’ he said ‘There’s no love lost between us, and you have much on your conscience.’ There was no response from him, and Liam went on as Olivia watched.

‘The doctors tell us that you may have suffered brain damage. Perhaps you can’t hear or understand me, but for my own conscience it’s only fair to update you on what we know about recent events.’ He pulled the chair closer to the bed.

‘We know who hired the assassin in the cathedral’ he said, and watched for a flicker of interest. None came. ‘We know it wasn’t your doing – Lucretia confessed that it was she who arranged it. She didn’t seem to have a lot of faith in your abilities after the kidnap attempt’ Was there the slightest change in the rhythm of the heart monitor? His gaze flicked to the monitor and back to Anton’s face. ‘I expect you find that quite a shock’ he said ‘We also know that you arranged for the murder of Lady Adelaide, as her efforts to make Madeleine queen went against your plot to gain the throne. You might like to know that a colleague of mine from Interpol intervened, and Adelaide is alive and well, and willing to testify to your organisation’s crimes’ He sat back in his chair. He wasn’t in a hurry. Whether he was in a state to comprehend or not, Anton wasn’t going anywhere.

‘Lucretia has been most cooperative since you fell ill.’ He continued ‘Some speculated that it was Lady Olivia who arranged for your demise, but her Aunt made a statement that is was she who had the envelope delivered to your room using old smuggling passages into the Manor.’ The monitor was most definitely changing rhythm, picking up speed.

‘The poison Lucretia used was unlikely to affect anyone else unless they had an allergy to shellfish, like yourself.’ He paused ‘I have one last piece of information to share with you’ he said ‘But there is someone here who is more suited to tell you’ He stood back, and Olivia took his place. She shuddered as she gazed down on his prone form.

‘Hello husband’ She said, her voice expressing the disgust she felt. ‘You’ve been asking to see me, so here I am. Am I not worth a glance? A word?’ There was no response; the monitor carried on its elevated rhythm but no alarms went off, so she continued.

‘You had the gall to uphold the outdated concept of an arranged marriage’ she snarled ‘Even when you knew I wouldn’t honour it, you continued to expect me to capitulate. But Nevrakis never give in. You never had a chance of me being your wife or your Queen.’ She leant closer

‘Know this, Anton. Liam is ten times the man you are, and he and I will secure the future of Cordonia. I carry his heir, and I will never be yours. I’ll fight that to the last breath in my body, and Liam will stay by my side, whether he is King or not’ The monitors picked up the pace again, speeding up until an alarm blared out. Olivia stepped away from the bed, but not before Anton’s eyes opened wide and he reached out to grab her wrist, his lips moving soundlessly as he strained to sit up.

‘Livvy!’ Liam cried, and stepped forward to pry Anton’s fingers from her wrist as a team of medics rushed in. The two of them were ushered out of the room as they gathered around his bedside. Liam put his arm around Olivia’s shoulders and lead her to the private lounge they had been allocated, to await news of Anton’s apparent recovery.

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#silver service #cliffhanger #anton severus #olivia nevrakis #king liam #bastien lykel #lucretia nevrakis

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searchingwardrobes · 4 years

Text

Start of Time: 4/8

I’ve outlined this entire fic, and I believe (fingers crossed) that it should be eight chapters long.

Reminder that Emma is being called “Wendy” in this because she has amnesia. In this chapter, Killian decides that the weather has cleared enough to take “Wendy” to meet his neighbors and see if anyone recognizes her. Emma/”Wendy” also has an intense conversation with Liam that triggers something in her.

Summary: Killian and his son are driving through a bad snow storm when they find a disoriented woman walking down the road. The question is, how can they help her get home when she has no idea who she is? Written for @teamhook on her birthday.

Rating: T

Words: A little over 3k in this chapter

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And the day is clear. My voice is just a whisper.

Wendy shut the Jones’s laptop with more force than she probably should have. She lowered her head and massaged her brow, forcing herself to take deep, calming breaths.

“Don’t give yourself another headache, love.”

Wendy turned sheepishly at the sound of Killian’s voice. “Sorry. I should be more careful with your stuff.”

He waved it off as he pulled an ottoman closer and sat down. “You can’t hurt it any more than the kids already do. Besides, I can’t imagine how you must feel.”

Wendy bit her lip. “I just wish I could do something to figure out who I am.”

“I know the lack of WiFi is frustrating, but I do have good news.”

Her eyes widened. “Really? What?”

“They haven’t cleared the roads yet, but the weather has been nice enough that I can get my snowmobile out. I need to check in on my patients at the surrounding farms anyway. I figured you could come along.”

She frowned. “By patients you mean animals. What good would that do?”

He laughed brightly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. It was infectious, and despite her worries, Wendy found her lips curling the tiniest bit.

“Yes, my patients are animals, but they do have owners. I was thinking about why you would have been driving that particular stretch of road. Maybe you were on your way to visit one of my neighbors.”

Wendy’s brow furrowed. “So you think someone around here may know me?”

Killian tilted his head to study her as she rubbed her temple, her eyes falling shut. “Are you remembering something?”

She dropped her hands and let out a puff of breath in frustration. “No, it’s just . . . something about what you’re saying . . . doesn’t . . . fit.” She growled under her breath. “God, I’m sorry, I’m not making any sense.”

“No, it’s okay,” Killian quickly reassured her, dropping a hand to her knee, “but it couldn’t hurt to ask around, right?”

She nodded firmly. “You’re right. I’ve got to do something, or I’ll go crazy.”

Behind them, Mary Margaret had just reached the bottom of the stairs. “You ready for your ride?”

Wendy glanced between them. “I thought . . . I thought Killian was -”

“Oh, he’s taking you,” Mary Margaret interrupted, “but I’ll be tagging along on my own machine until the trail branches off to our farm. Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of private trails so you can wrap your arms around Killian.”

Mary Margaret gave them both a wink as she headed to the mud room to put on her snow gear. Wendy’s face burned, and Killian quickly rose to his feet, clearing his throat awkwardly and rubbing at the back of his neck.

“Yeah, um, I’ve got two machines, but Henry’s already out in the back pasture with Alice, so . . . we’ll need to share.”

Wendy finally managed to look him in the eye, and she was strangely encouraged to see that his face was bright red, too. “That’s okay, I mean, I don’t even know how to drive one. At least I don’t think I do . . . “ She trailed off with a nervous laugh.

Killian nodded. “Okay, well, then . . . I’ll just go grab some winter gear for you.”

He turned and collided with the sofa, the red creeping up to the very tips of his ears as he righted himself. Wendy clapped her hand over her mouth to stop a giggle from escaping. When she rose to follow him, she tripped over her own feet, but she didn’t think he noticed. God, they needed to pull themselves together or they’d both end up in a ditch this time.

************************************************

Wendy wouldn’t lie, clinging to Killian as the snowmobile cut through the wintry landscape was exhilarating. She could say it was the brisk air cutting across her cheeks, the pristine forest blurring past, or the times they momentarily went airborne as the machine flew over hills and snowdrifts. But she would be lying. The exhilarating part was all about the man she had her arms wrapped around - the firm strength of his body, the warmth radiating from him, and the way he smelled of pine and woodsmoke. She was tempted to rest her cheek against his upper back, but the ride was far too bumpy and her helmet would have made it a bit awkward. She was embarrassed to say that even Killian helping her buckle the helmet’s strap below her chin back at the house had sent electricity down her spine. She was acting completely ridiculous. She had only known this man for four days, and she was acting like a schoolgirl with a crush.

Of course, as far as she could remember, he was the only man she knew.

They crested a hill, and farm land spread below them, covered in pure white. A bright red barn sat next to the pastureland, and beyond it a quaint two story farmhouse with red shutters and a red front door. As Killian neared, a large man with curly brown hair stepped out onto the front porch and waved. Killian parked the machine next to a pickup truck between the barn and house. He and Wendy were just removing their helmets when the man rounded the corner of the house. He was even larger close up, in both girth and height, yet the smile that lit his face was friendly and put Wendy immediately at ease.

“Tiny!” Killian exclaimed, taking the man’s hand and clapping him on the back. “How have you fared during the storm?”

“Not bad. I’ve got a generator, like most of the farmers, and I had stocked up plenty of firewood.” His eyes fell on Wendy. “Anton Jackson,” he said, offering his hand.

“Wendy,” she replied simply as she shook it. She was surprisingly used to “Wendy” by now, it even felt right, but it still felt odd and frustrating that she had no last name to offer the man.

“Wendy is actually stranded in Storybrooke,” Killian put in, coming to her side. “She had an accident when the storm hit, and she’s got a bit of amnesia. Do you recognize her?”

The man frowned as he shook his head sadly. “I’m afraid not. I’m so sorry. I’m sure I would remember such a lovely face if I’d seen you before.”

Wendy tucked her hair behind her ears and felt herself blush. “That’s okay. It was a long shot anyway.”

Killian gave her a sad, sympathetic look, and she was suddenly embarrassed. Maybe she didn’t have anyone in her life who would miss her.

“Well,” Killian said, swiftly changing the subject, “let’s take a look at Gruff’s leg, shall we?”

Anton led the way into the barn, and Wendy slid closer to Killian so she could whisper close to his ear. “You call him Tiny?”

“Everyone calls him that,” Killian whispered back, “and you’ll soon see why.”

“Good morning, my little ones!” Anton boomed as he stepped through the barn door. One half of the structure was cordoned off with a short gate, and inside were about eight of the smallest goats Wendy had ever seen.

“Pygmy goats,” Killian explained as he stepped into the enclosure. He went straight to a little brown one with white spots and knelt down to unwrap the bandage from its right front leg.

“They’re adorable!” she exclaimed.

Tiny motioned for her to come inside the gate. She was a little nervous at first, but the little goats only bumped at her calves and let out little excited bleats at their visitor.

“This little guy is my favorite,” Killian told her, rubbing behind the ears of the goat he was examining. “Gruff’s name is actually ironic, isn’t it?”

Wendy grinned at the way Killian cooed at the little goat. He looked up at her, and for some reason, his grin and the light in his eyes made her stomach flip.

“Would you mind holding him while I change the dressings on his leg?”

“Me?” she glanced around for Tiny, but the large man was busy spreading fresh hay in the goat’s enclosure.

“Of course. Gruff has the sweetest disposition. I wouldn’t ask you if it was dangerous.”

Wendy nodded and knelt down next to Killian. He gently placed the little goat into her arms, and she found his warm, wiggly body comforting against her chest. Gruff bleated and nudged her chin with his nose, but overall was still and calm as Killian changed out his dirty bandage for a fresh one.

“What happened to him?” she asked.

“Not sure. Tiny saw that he had a cut on his leg, which shouldn’t have been a big deal. It got infected though, and he had me come take a look. There are lots of ways a goat kid can get a cut, just like a human child.”

“You mean he’s just as curious as Henry and Alice?”

He looked at her with that expressive grin again. “Precisely.”

Even when Killian went to talk to Tiny about how the wound was healing, Wendy didn’t put Gruff down. He didn’t smell all that great, to be honest, but his warm fur beneath her fingers and his wet tongue swiping at her chin brought her comfort. She heard a laugh and looked up to see Killian admiring her.

“You’re just as good at assisting me as Henry and Alice.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

They visited three more farms: the Hermans who had a dairy cow on the mend from a cold, the Morgans who had an elderly horse with an eye infection, and the Pipers who were trying to keep a case of sore mouth from spreading to all their sheep. Farm life was completely new to Wendy, but she found it surprisingly fascinating (though the smell of sheep was much too pungent for her taste - she’d take her wool in sweaters, thank you very much). Watching Killian in his element was wonderful too. He was gentle with the animals and talked to them in a soothing voice. With their owners, he was charming, sometimes bordering on flirting. There was such a contrast in this man. He was obviously well-liked in the community, yet she had often seen a glimpse of sadness during unguarded moments in his home. Despite his children, his brother, and obvious friends, she nevertheless sensed loneliness in him. It was as if she could see things other people missed, which was crazy. How could she be so foolish to think she could read him when she’d only known him a few days?

As for the other purpose of their outing, it was a complete and utter failure. No one had been expecting any visitors, and no one knew who Wendy was. Aside from the Morgan’s ten year old daughter Violet commenting that she looked like “someone she had seen before,” no one even recognized Wendy.

“Maybe you were on that road because you got lost,” Killian tried to assure her as they climbed back onto the snowmobile.

“Killian,” she whispered near his neck as she wrapped her arms around him, “what if I was wandering that road because something horrible happened to me? What if that’s why I can’t remember anything?”

The terrifying thought made her shiver more than the frigid air. Killian grasped one of her hands and squeezed it through their thick gloves.

“We’ll figure it out. I promise. Someone out there loves you and has to be looking for you.”

He started the engine then, and Wendy couldn’t respond. Why did she have this cruel voice taunting her mind? A voice that hissed, no one loves you; you’re alone.

********************************************

Wendy ventured downstairs a little past midnight. She was unable to sleep, and the copy of Peter Pan Henry had loaned her was doing nothing to stop the vicious circle of thoughts assaulting her mind. A rumble in her stomach finally pushed her to leave the guest bedroom she had moved into since Mary Margaret went home.

She hesitated at the bottom of the stairs when she heard Killian and Liam in the kitchen. Killian had told her multiple times to make herself at home and to help herself from the fridge and the pantry, yet she still felt like an intruder. More so when Liam was around.

“Your move, little brother.”

“It’s younger brother, and don’t look so smug. I’m awfully good at seeing a few moves ahead.”

“Are you trying to say I just made a mistake?”

Killian laughed. “Perhaps.”

They were playing chess; not talking about her. Wendy let out a relieved breath and headed into the kitchen. She avoided the brothers’ gazes as she opened the refrigerator, but Killian’s voice greeted her.

“Can’t sleep, love?”

She pressed her lips together and admonished her cheeks to stop reddening. She had come to realize over the past few days that he tossed the word “love” around as a moniker for everyone, even Mary Margaret. It shouldn’t affect her the way it did. She grabbed an apple and slowly turned to face him.

“Not really.”

“Would some good news help?”

Wendy’s eyes widened. “Really? What’s that?”

“Sheriff Graham called after you went upstairs. He can be here late tomorrow morning. He’s going to bring Doctor Whale, too.”

For some reason, her stomach twisted up at the thought. She wanted to figure out who she was, but what if she didn’t like what she found? Killian seemed to pick up on her hesitancy, and reached out to take her hand.

“It will work out. I’m sure of it.”

Killian rubbed his thumb over her knuckles, and Liam cleared his throat. Wendy snatched her hand away and cut her gaze over to Liam who was openly scowling at her. Killian narrowed his eyes at his brother, but before things could get more heated, Alice’s voice cut through the tension.

“Daddy,” she said, her lower lip quivering, “you forgot to spray for monsters.”

“Did I?” Killian asked, rising quickly to go to his daughter. “I’m sorry, starfish.”

“You need to quit with that,” Liam put in, then he turned to his niece. “You know there’s no such thing as monsters, little love. There’s nothing to fear.”

Alice narrowed her eyes just like her father and put her hands on her hips. A stuffed rabbit dangled from her right fist.

“There are so monsters. Grown ups just can’t see them!”

“Well, I don’t know,” Wendy spoke up, coming to kneel before Alice, “I think I’ve seen a monster or two myself in that room of yours.”

“Not helping,” Liam hissed behind her.

Alice’s eyes grew wide. “You did?”

“Mhm,” Wendy told her solemnly, “but I think they’re friendly monsters there to watch over you. I mean, I slept great in that room, happy I wasn’t alone.”

Alice tilted her head skeptically. “But grown ups don’t know magic like kids do. That’s why only kids can go to Wonderland, and Neverland, and Narnia. All the books say so.”

“But didn’t the grown ups get to go back to Narnia in The Last Battle? And the professor never stopped believing.”

“Hmm,” Alice contemplated, rubbing at her chin. Also like her father, Wendy thought to herself. “I never thought of that.”

“So maybe only special grown ups can see magic,” Wendy stage whispered. Alice looked smugly over her shoulder at her uncle, and Wendy had to bite her lip not to laugh. Served him right.

“Like Daddy is special?”

Wendy looked up at Killian who had retrieved a spray bottle decorated with sparkly swirls from under the sink as she had been talking. Also painted on the bottle were the words “monster spray” in childish font. It looked like Alice’s handiwork. The smile he shared with Wendy over his daughter’s head made her heart flip in her chest.

“Of course I’m special,” Killian teased, “isn’t that right, Liam?”

Even the elder Jones couldn’t help laughing and winking at his niece. “Oh, you’re special alright.”

Killian scooped up Alice. “Would you still like me to spray for monsters?”

She fiddled with her father’s collar as she spoke. “But will it hurt the good monsters?”

“Oh no. They’re immune to it.”

Killian continued chatting with his daughter as he carried her back upstairs, and Wendy felt a pleasant warmth settle over her at the sight. She turned back to the table as she took a bite of her apple, ignoring Liam’s gaze. She plopped down in Killian’s vacated seat and absent-mindedly picked up a chess piece.

“Do you play?”

She chuckled. “Oh, no. That I can remember. I don’t like strategy games.”

“It’s odd the things you remember and the things you can’t.”

Wendy looked him dead in the eyes as she set the chess piece down where Killian had placed it. “Are you implying that I’m faking it?”

Liam’s face softened. “No, not at all. I was merely making a comment on how odd brain injuries can be.”

“Oh,” she said, one hand dropping to her lap. She munched her apple and let silence descend for a moment. Then she looked him in the eye again. “So why don’t you like me?”

Liam sighed and ran a hand over his face. “It isn’t you, really. It’s just plain to see that my brother is developing feelings for you.”

Wendy’s face reddened. “I really don’t think -”

Liam cut her off. “Yes, he is, but it isn’t your fault, lass. Killian has a soft spot for those who are lost and hurting. Why do you think he became a vet? Even when our mum was still alive, he was always bringing hurt creatures home to mend, his little eyes welling up with tears. He’s always felt too deeply.”

“How can a person feel too much? He has a big heart - that’s a good thing.”

“It is, and I admire that in him, but it also makes me worry. Feeling so much also brings much pain.”

“Like when your mother died?”

“Aye. Killian was only seven, and it devastated him. Our father, though Killian worshiped him, was a horrible specimen of a person. He cheated on our mother, even when she was dying of cancer. After she was gone, he cared more about his string of mistresses than he did about us. It was left to me to take care of Killian, even though I’m only four years his senior.”

Wendy blinked away tears. “I’m so sorry.”

Liam waved away her sentiment. “We had each other at least. The sad thing was, every woman my father brought around doted on Killian only to disappear from our lives. You can’t blame them. Killian was a cute kid and charming from the day he was born.”

Wendy couldn’t help smiling at the description. “So I’ve noticed.”

Liam, surprisingly, returned her smile. “Then I’m sure you can see how our father’s string of girlfriends adored him as a little boy. He got attached every damn time, only for our father to send them packing when he tired of them.”

Something stirred in Wendy’s chest at those words, and she suddenly lost her appetite. “Where is your father now?”

“Dead,” Liam said, voice devoid of emotion, “wrapped his car around a tree when he was out drinking when Killian was eleven.”

“How awful for both of you!”

“What was truly awful was that we were suddenly orphans. Family services didn’t even bother trying to keep us together. Being fifteen and eleven, we were shuffled around quite a bit, as you can imagine. I was relieved when I turned eighteen and could join the navy. I saved every penny I could so I could put Killian through school when he aged out.”

“You’ve been taking care of him the best you could since you were still a kid yourself.”

Liam nodded. “So you can see my concern, surely. Every woman in Killian’s life has left him, and you’ll do the same no matter what happens. You have a life out there somewhere, maybe even a boyfriend. You’ll go back to that life, and Killian will have been abandoned. Again.”

A headache suddenly gripped Wendy, and the half-eaten apple tumbled from her hand and rolled across the floor. She gripped her temple with both hands. Orphan. Abandoned. Shuffled around. Family services. The words tumbled around her mind like shoes in a dryer - thump, thump, thump - pounding against her skull. She was slightly shocked when Liam rushed to her side and grasped her by the shoulders.

“Wendy? Are you okay?”

The headache left as quickly as it had come. She opened her eyes, squinting against the lights in the kitchen.

“I’m okay,” she told him, “I think I just need to get to bed.”

Liam’s brow was furrowed. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I know, and I don’t want to hurt Killian.”

Liam nodded. “It isn’t a matter of wanting, Wendy. You just will.”

She had no response, so she wearily rose from the table and made her way up the stairs. She was relieved that she didn’t pass Killian on her way up. The story of his difficult childhood broke her heart, and she didn’t think she could bear looking him in the eye right now. When she tumbled into bed, she wet her pillow with tears. Tears for the charming little boy who always got left behind, and tears for herself. For herself because . . . because . . . she didn’t know why she wept for herself. She just felt less like Wendy Darling and more like a lost girl.

#cs ff #cs modern au #snowed in #daddy killian #knightrook #amnesia #angst #pining

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erikthedead · 3 years

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entry #3

Jordon Peterson just encouraged me to write more, so here we are again. Sat on my bed with my little laptop, letting the streams of consciousness manifest into the tippy tapping of the keyboard, a noise I really like. I normally can’t stand little noises like that. Clocks ticking for example, drives me crazy. The beeping of a low battery fire alarm is even worse. Fascinating, I know.

The concept of family has been knocking around my head lately, I always find it strangely coincidental when the themes within my own mind are outwardly validated by what is going on externally around me. When I’m thinking about something and then the subject happens to present itself to me in some form, through a TV show or a film or a podcast or a real-life event. I went with my grandad to visit his daughter (my auntie), and her two teenage sons to have a Sunday Roast together today. It was good to see them because my family has always been small and fragmented. It feels positively ritualistic for us to gather together like that even briefly. Then later on in the night a podcast pops up in my YouTube subscriptions of Jordan Peterson and his daughter talking with Russell Brand about family. Also, coincidentally, Brand and Peterson have written the books that I’m currently reading. Both of them are great men. Brand was an inspiration for me due to his journey from addiction to recovery. He actually first got clean in my hometown of Bury Saint Edmunds by the same organisation that my mum and nan worked with to kick heroin. Another strange coincidence. Or maybe it really is just a small world with a very few central themes that transcend through time and space for humanity, hence I see them everywhere. The very heavy, important themes that surround the meaning of existence: Love, life, death, sacrifice, devotion, duality, surrender, forgiveness, hatred, progression, conflict, values, ethics, symbolism, truth, illusion, punishment, good and evil. All sounds very religious actually. Which isn’t much of a surprise if the purpose of religion is to reconcile with these themes which we all deal with in life. Religion never clicked with me; it still doesn’t. I consider myself an extreme atheist and sceptic, to the point where I jive heavily with the vibes of LaVeyan Satanism. I read the satanic bible when I was about 14, but I can’t recollect if it was before or after my mum died. I just remember how it was the first book that truly resonated with me and gave me the courage to stand up for myself in the face of tyranny, which at that time were bullies at school, some of those bullies were teachers. This is a little post I recently submitted to the r/satanism, the online Satanist forum on Reddit:

‘Growing up in the Christian country of England, we had to sing hymns and take part in attempted brainwashing in our public schools from an early age. Not only that but teachers usually had 'good vs evil' (authority = good) philosophy that this culture has instilled into us that really is not that helpful on its own. I was SO frustrated with the whole system and the people in it. There were some bullies too, and I was always told to 'be the bigger man' by never retaliating. I was about ready to do something extreme to get myself expelled. Then I got hold of this book when I was about 14, read it all in one sitting, and it was so comforting to me to read Anton spin everything I had known on its head, and he was the first person who ever told me to smite those who have infringed upon me, not turn the other cheek. And it worked. I never took shit lying down from bullies or teachers after processing the book mentally. After that, when they dished it to me, I threw it back at them, and many times I would win. I won by getting through school and passing my exams despite hating the environment I was in.’

I don’t really want to read the book again, because I may have outgrown the deliberate edgy nature of it, and I have so many new books to read, but I will always keep it close to me as a symbol and reminder of what I took from it. It was a really important step for me towards self-love and self-respect, as well as being able to discriminate between the people that deserve my love and those who deserve my wrath, or even better, those I should take no consideration for at all. If I have to sum it up, the philosophy of satanism encourages you to challenge God’s authority, not just submit to it because ‘that’s just the way it is and has always been.’ Through doing that, we become our own gods, which is a far more appealing position to be in than the sinner damned to suffer for eternity, for me anyway. Satan himself is the good guy in the story if you really think about it. The advances we have made culturally, legally and socially are mostly thanks to those brave enough to challenge the status que and authority. The first couple waves of feminism, LGBT rights, protection of the sanctity of childhood, better care for the sick and disabled are a few crucial movements. And without discrediting the brave soldiers who fought in the world wars, because what they went through really was hell on earth, the Armageddon, it’s an example of what happens when people are encouraged to follow their false gods. It is still mind boggling to me how the world nearly ended in all out nuclear warfare only recently. Well, I say ended, but we’ve all seen Jurassic Park… ‘Life finds a way.’ That dark fetishization of destruction within me I have mentioned before still sort of wants that to happen. Or even better, the whole planet being obliterated into pieces by something hurtling through the abyss directly into us. Not just a small asteroid that disrupts the atmosphere like the one that killed the dinosaurs off, I mean something BIG that gives life no chance of recovery. Perhaps the reason for this ultra-mega-death wish is because the alternative is so cruel and unappealing. The sun will burn out and everything will slowly wilt away. I just want us to go out with a bang, you know? Again, it is just me trying to control fate and death. I’m sure any astrophysicist would be able to ruin my Earth killing fantasy by informing me that it’s not even possible because of gravity and all that other magical shit that’s beyond me. That’s if I ever bad the balls to even talk about these terrible things out loud.

#ramblings #3 #diary #entry #entry3

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let-it-raines · 5 years

Text

Mistress of the Sea (3/3)

He comes into the tavern whenever he's docked in Misthaven, always following his crew and settling down at the table in the center of the room, ordering a rum before falling into telling a rousing story that has the entire room roaring with laughter. It's like that for years, and Emma gets used to watching Captain Killian Jones in his element on land, idly wondering what he must be like when at sea. They speak to each other, enough to know names and to be comfortable in conversation, but he's rarely around long enough for her to truly know him, his mistress of the sea always calling him home.

And yet he always returns to Emma.

Rating: Mature (mostly this part)

A/N: I literally have no idea where part three of this came from, but here it is! I was saving it for an event posting later this month, but since I have something else for that now, I figured why not share it now?

You don’t need to have read the first two parts to understand, but they do help💜

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr: Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Tag list (those of you who liked the first two parts): @juneqparis @darkcolinodonorgasm @effulgentcolors @xemmaloveskillianx @spartanguard @jonirobinson64 @jennjenn615 @hookedonhiddles @resident-of-storybrooke @bmbbcs4evr @kmomof4 @shireness-says @scientificapricot @onceuponaprincessworld @badwolfandtimelords @nikkiemms @sarart13 @jamif @facesiousbutton82 @emmythedaydreamer @wellhellotragic @captainsjedi @thejollyroger-writer @galaxyzxstark @mayquita @captswanis4vr @a-faekindagirl

-/-

“You need more rum.”

“Alright.”

“And whiskey.”

“I’ve got it.”

“And I think the sheets upstairs need to be replaced soon as well.”

Emma scribbles the words down on her parchment, the ink of her pen marking her fingertips, before bending down to brush a kiss across Oliver’s cheek, making his cheeks redden in a way that’s only obvious because he’s been cursed (or blessed according to his father) with her pale skin and scattered freckles. He’s the most handsome seven-year-old boy in all of the kingdoms with his dirty blonde hair and bright blue eyes, eyelashes as long as she wishes hers were, and a gap-toothed smile that makes her days every time she elicits one from him.

For someone who was never sure that she wanted to be a mother, her son makes her question that train of thought every single day, even on the days where he refuses to eat his dinner and disobeys her orders.

Meeting Killian and falling in love with him in this tavern over months and years changed everything for her, and the kid helping her take stock of the tavern is just one of the many tangible things that prove that.

The small toddler with dark black hair and blue eyes, tanned skin with no freckles to be seen, walking between the tables talking to the dwarves is another one of those proofs.

Her little Maribel.

“Mummy,” Oliver sighs, his shoulders shrugging as he hops up onto the countertop despite how many times she has told him not to do that, “can we have dinner soon?”

“Ruby is making you something.”

“Ruby doesn’t make good food.”

Emma rolls her eyes, unable to stop herself, before she adjusts her trousers on her waist, the pants far too big for her now, and reaches over to pick Oliver up and place him back on the ground. The children spend their days with her in the tavern when they’re not at the school building or at home with Killian, and considering it is the summer holidays and Killian is somewhere miles and miles away, they’ve been constants at her sides. She doesn’t mind. She quite likes that she gets to spend time with them, especially because Oliver truly is such a big help. He gets his meticulousness from his father, and even when it drives her into madness, she loves the way that both he and Killian will sit outside of their front door at the cottage and straighten the fence posts or the way that Oliver will arrange Killian’s novels in his quarters on the Jolly.

Thinking of his captain’s cabin, thinking of the small bed with a warm quilt and soft pillows and the gentle rocking of the waves makes her heart ache with missing him. It’s almost unbearable some nights, her heart and mind attacking her wondering where her husband is, if he’s safe, if he’s coming home soon, if he’s coming home at all. She’s always been an independent person because of her lack of upbringing, someone who never relied on others, and while she gets on just fine without Killian home, she wants him home.

Or she wants to be out at sea with him.

Wherever he is, she would like to be there as well and be by his side every single day.

Life isn’t quite the same without him flirting with her while she works – he often pretends that they haven’t been married to each other for eight years now whenever his crew visits the tavern, and when he does this, he flirts with her much more openly and with more explicit detail than he ever did when he was her patron – or taking the children fishing and teaching them to read in the daylight hours. Her life is fuller with him and the crinkles around his eyes that she likes to trace in the early morning light. He often smiles at her, a crooked little thing, and then leans forward so that his lips can connect with every bit of skin that she has.

Her husband is a man who has killed, who has stolen, who has scars from life that he has taken and given, but in the mornings when the warm sunlight shines through the window in their bedroom and he’s smiling at her how he does, she can see nothing but love in the blue of his eyes.

The blue that is full of a lifetime spent on the ocean and yet is infinitely better than the sea in every conceivable way.

“There’s not a day will go by I won’t think of you.”

“Good.”

Her heart aches for the blue, and even the exact substitute that she sees in the eyes of her children cannot replicate it.

The glint isn’t quite right.

She would know. She can see those eyes even when her eyes are closed and darkness surrounds her.

“Ruby makes perfectly good food,” she tells Oliver, placing her hands on her hips and staring down at him with squinted eyes that she knows make him listen. “Why don’t you go help her cook? She’s always telling me that you’re her favorite partner.”

“Even more than Maribel?”

“Only because you can reach the shelves.”

Oliver nods his head and darts past her and back into the kitchen. Ruby is most definitely going to despise her for sending Oliver back there when she’s trying to finish baking the bread for tonight as well as cooking a stew for them. If Ruby didn’t love them the way that she does, and maybe if she didn’t need the extra help, Emma knows that she would not have this job to return to whenever she’s home in Misthaven for long enough periods of time to need to work to fill her days and her coin purse.

(Ruby has been her closest friend for over a decade now, and under no circumstances would she ever ask her to leave the tavern even if she’s not the most reliable barmaid. Her children and husband? Yes. Her? No.)

“Oi,” Leroy calls out from his spot in the corner, several ale mugs already in front of him, “yer wee lassie is climbing up my boots, Mistress Jones.”

“Maribel,” Emma calls out, already walking out from behind the bar to cross the old wooden planks that need to be swept again. “Maribel, darling, don’t climb on Leroy’s boots.”

“Papa’s boots.”

Her eyes glance down at Leroy’s boots, and while they don’t truly resemble Killian’s, she can see how someone who is not yet three could get them confused with the boots her Papa wears. Killian’s left a pair sitting just inside the entrance to their cottage, and Maribel passes by them, nearly right at her eye level, every time she so much as enters the main part of their cottage.

Her heart could not possibly ache any more than it already does tonight.

“My darling,” she sighs, bending down and scooping Maribel up into her arms so that she rests at her hip, “those are like Papa’s boots, aren’t they? I think Papa’s feet may be too big to fit in them though.”

“No,” she giggles, her eyes scrunching up like Killian’s do.

Heartache.

“Oh, I think so. Papa has the largest feet you’ll ever see. Larger than even a giant.”

“Papa is small.”

“I think you and I are not talking about the same man here, my love.”

“Wench,” a man huffs, his voice dripping with disdain, “I didn’t come here tonight to watch you coddle your bastard. I’m out of rum. Fetch me some more.”

Anger bubbles up under her skin, the desire to reach into the strap inside of her trousers and grab her knife just at the surface. They get assholes in here every now and then, travelers from outside of town and drunks who don’t know any better, and she’ll never not be someone who rises up in defense of her children. She has made plenty of mistakes in her life, Killian too, but their children deserve no hatred.

None.

“Get out of here, you buffoon,” Ruby shouts, coming out of the kitchen with Oliver at her heels. Emma knows that the word buffoon was simply because children are around, and Emma both loves her and hates her for it when the man is a fucking asshole.

“Why the hell should I listen to you, bitch?”

There’s a collective murmur around the tavern, a familiar one really, and Emma grabs Oliver’s hand and tugs him along with her to get out of the way. Graham and Anton will be inside in a minute, the two of them usually making their way inside when there’s a commotion, but in all honesty, Ruby doesn’t need them to handle men like this.

“Well,” she scowls, stepping up to him, “for one, I own this tavern, and I only serve who I want. Secondly,” she holds up a finger as she gets closer, their height discrepancy lessened by the height of Ruby’s confidence, “I know how to use any and all weapons. And finally, and I think you might like this one best, the woman whose child you just called a bastard, is Captain Killian Jones’s wife.” His face pales, and Emma can barely hide her snicker. “Ah, so you know who he is then? I imagine you do, and I imagine you’ll want to leave now and strongly consider never coming back. The Captain is here most nights. I believe he’ll be in later tonight, but he had some business to attend to.”

If the man had a tail like a dog, it’d surely be stuck between his legs as he nearly runs out of the tavern, his hip bumping into tables and knocking over chairs. Emma suspects that’s all intentional, especially when he slams the door with such ferocity that the entire building shakes, but when it all settles down, all of their patrons break out into laughter, the sounds of joy coming back to the Mistress of the Sea.

“You have too much fun pulling that line,” Emma sighs at Ruby as the woman walks toward she and the children.

Ruby smirks, something so similar to Killian that she wonders if all of the people in her life have the ability to do that or if she’s starting to imagine things. “It’s too damn entertaining. Even if your husband wasn’t a seafaring man with good looks you hear stories about, you marrying him would be worth it simply to terrify folks like that.”

“Why would someone be scared of Papa?” Oliver asks innocently. “He’s not scary.”

“That’s because he loves you, kid. Your Papa would go to the ends of the earth to protect us, and sometimes that means he scares people.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“I wouldn’t suspect that you do.”

The rest of the night passes quickly, the tavern rather subdued, and she leaves Ruby and Ashley to take care of things as she walks the children home, Maribel sleeping on her shoulder and Oliver holding her hand as they walk down beaten, sand-filled paths. She knows this walk like the back of her hand, and even if they do live a few minutes too far from the tavern and the docks, she likes the way their cottage is secluded enough for them to have safety and privacy, as well as their own strip of sand. The sea breeze wafts past her nose, salt in the air surrounding them, and the smell relaxes her as she opens the front door to the cottage and sends Oliver off to his room to change into his sleep clothes as she lights the lanterns so that they have more light than the simple moonlight.

She’ll bathe the children in the morning and wash all of their clothes, but she’s simply too tired to do all of that right now.

By the light of the lantern, she reads Oliver and Maribel one of their stories, softly recreating the voices of different characters. She can’t do it quite like Killian can, but she likes to think that she’s gotten better. The complaints have certainly lessened.

Maribel falls asleep first, Oliver soon after, and she closes the book and blow out the lantern light before kissing each of their foreheads and closing their bedroom door so that she can move to her own bedroom, changing out of her clothes and into one of Killian’s shirts. She has her own nightgowns, pretty ones that Killian brings home for her, but she likes the way Killian’s shirts fall across her thighs and keep her mostly covered but also cool during summer nights.

She swears that it still smells like him too, and that makes it all the better.

Her hair takes far too long to brush out, and sometimes she’s tempted to cut it more and make it more manageable, but she knows that she’d miss the plaits she can do with it and how Killian runs his fingers through it when they’re talking. It’s a part of her, and once it is smoothed out, she finds that she doesn’t hate it so much.

She loves it.

And she loves how easily she falls into slumber that night when she’s been struggling with sleeping lately.

-/-

There’s a creak against the floorboard, and Emma’s eyes immediately open as she quickly sits up and reaches for the knife that she keeps underneath the bed. Her heart is beating far too quickly to be healthy, and she’s ready to fight whoever has invaded their home in the darkness of the night.

Or not.

Because standing above her is the man whose blue eyes she’s been dreaming about.

The dreams don’t do them justice.

“Killian,” she breathes out on a sigh, dropping her weapon to the floor so that it clatters against the wood. It takes less than two seconds for her to rise from the bed and launch herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist and…he’s so solid against her, warm and firm and feeling just like he did when he left. And he smells like he did, inviting and salty with the smallest hint of leather. His hands are welcomed and rough as they move up her bare thighs, holding her up against him, and she can feel her heart still beating wildly in her chest. And she can also feel his as the proof that he’s very much full of life. “Hi, my love.”

“Hello, Swan,” he chuckles into her neck, his breath hot in a way that sends shivers down her spine and his accent so damn pleasant that a sob gets caught in her throat, “I’m glad you decided to embrace me instead of killing me.”

“I thought you were an intruder.”

“I know I’ve been gone for a good while, but I wouldn’t think that your husband is an intruder. Don’t you remember me?”

Emma unburies her face from his neck so that she can look at his face in an attempt to soak all of this in and prove that she’s not dreaming. It’s difficult to see in the dim light, but she can see enough to look at his tanned skin and the thick stubble that resides along his jaw and over his lips. He hasn’t shaved in what looks like weeks, and while she doesn’t dislike it, she much prefers when he’s close shaved, his stubble a pleasant scratch against her skin. He also hasn’t cut his hair, the dark fringe falling messily over his forehead, and she imagines she’ll be cutting it sometime tomorrow.

Tomorrow. He’ll be here tomorrow.

“I think you may need to remind me,” she murmurs before tilting her head forward and gliding her lips over his. He tastes of salt, but that’s not what she truly notices when she can feel the softness of his lips mixed in with the odd feeling of his beard. It’s slow, reverent, thorough, and she can’t stop moving her lips over his while never staying long enough in one spot to keep deepening the kiss.

There are too many places to kiss for her to stay in one place.

“I can do that, my mistress.”

“Can I be your mistress when I am your wife?”

“You will always be my mistress of the sea,” Killian whispers as he leans her forward and softly places her on the bed, the mattress soft against her back as her husband peppers kisses across her jaw while his hands slide up and down the outside of her thighs, pulling her shirt up to rest at her hips. “Have you been sleeping in my shirt this entire time, darling?”

“Some nights,” she answers honestly, tilting her neck to the side to give Killian access as he trails his lips across her skin, sending sharp shivers down her spine and causing heat to pool between her thighs. “Other nights in one of the nightgowns you’ve bought me, sometimes I’m wearing nothing at all.”

He squeezes her thighs then, and his fingers inch over them so that he’s brushing against the inside of her legs where she’s sensitive, the rough pads of his fingers bring her pleasure. “Why Mrs. Jones,” he mumbles into her ear, his beard still scratching at her skin in an unfamiliar way, “how scandalous. Don’t you know that it’s improper for you to wear nothing to bed? It is not the way of a lady.”

Emma chuckles, unable to help herself, and uses her hands to grab onto Killian’s cheeks and pull him to her so that she can see his eyes again and the little red mark on his cheek that she’s missed. Oh, and the quirked brow. She may have missed that most of all.

“Don’t you know?” she mock gasps, pressing a kiss to his scar. “I’ve never been a lady, but I truly ruined my reputation when I married a pirate of all things.”

“You’re my lady,” he says before he captures her mouth with his and presses his body weight further onto hers so that she can feel the hard lines of his stomach and the muscles of his thighs, the comforting weight that comes with him being on top of her. His kiss is somehow gentle and rough, possessive really, and the way that he’s running his tongue over the seam of her lips has her opening up to him so that their tongues can tangle together in a hot slide that has Killian groaning when she pushes her hips up to his to feel the friction that she wants, that she needs.

“You are my lady,” he pants again, pecking her lips before kissing the indent in her chin and moving down her neck to kiss the hollow of her throat. “And you are my mistress.” His lips run along her collarbone now, harshly biting down, and she gasps, pleasure and heat continuing to curl within her as gooseflesh rises on her skin. “And the mother of my beloved children.” He runs his tongue down the concave between her breasts. “My closest companion.” He noses away the fabric covering her now before lightly kissing a tightened nipple. “My wife.” Killian looks up at her now through his long, dark lashes, and she smiles down at him while her hand runs through his thick, soft hair that’s got bits of the sea situated in it. “You are my everything, and I have sailed all of the seas to come home to you.”

Then his tongue is circling her nipple and his teeth are biting down. Her hips arch up in response, and she can feel his growing hardness against her bare thigh. Every doctor in the realm would worry about her heart for the way that it’s beating within her chest, but there is nothing to worry about. She is simply in love with a man who is her everything as well.

She is in love with a man who is home.

The two of them have been intimate with each other for nearly a decade now, and while there are times when it is not necessarily thrilling, she knows from talking with other woman that their intimate times are not quite like what she has. Their husbands and lovers do not always take the time to bring them pleasure as Killian does with her, so she revels in the time that he spends lavishing her breasts, in the time that he spends with his dark head of hair buried between her thighs as he brings her pleasure that cannot be replicated by anything else in the world.

That’s always one of her favorite things.

But so is the way that Killian’s jaw clenches when her lips kiss at his hip, at the inked skin of her name written on his flesh, and how he arches his hips off of the bed when her fingers brush over his length in smooth motions that she knows that he enjoys. The curses that curl off of his tongue, deep and dark, stir her on as she takes him in her mouth and hums around him. There’s something wonderful about how much she can control his bliss, can bring him to feeling so wonderful, but then Killian is gently pulling on her hair to bring her away from him.

“Darling,” he pants, running his hands down her arms and squeezing her upper arms, “I love you, but I have been without you for seven weeks. I will burst if I am not inside you soon.”

She nods her head up and down before crawling up his body and settling herself over his hips, the tip of his cock brushing against the sensitive flesh between her thighs, and she slowly guides him into her so that he can stretch her, fill her, be within her, the two of them connected in every way.

“I love you,” she murmurs while starting to roll her hips. “I have missed you, have missed the feeling of you inside of me.”

“I have missed the feeling of being within you.” His fingers tug at the hem of her – his– shirt until it’s pulled above her shoulders, leaving her bare, and while one hand stays steady on her hip, the other comes to hold her breast. “You are so beautiful, my beloved.”

It’s a subtle, slow rocking of hips. She props her hands behind her back, fingers curling into the sheets, and Killian cants up into her to further sheath himself inside of her. They are experts in a quick fuck, in bringing each other pleasure as quickly as possible when they don’t have much time or the adrenaline is high after a dangerous night out on the waters, but they are moreover experts in relishing in the way that they join, in relishing in the way that their love allows them to fall apart slowly with stolen breaths and muttered words of love and affection.

Never again will she allow him to leave her for this long.

Never again.

It’s what she always says, every single time, and yet at least once a year, she has to watch him go. It’s the life of someone whose husband is meant to spend time on the ocean and with his crew. She cannot keep him with her, with their children, when there is a job to be done, a life to be lived, and what is seven weeks out of a long year when she gets a lifetime with this man?

Later, when they are both sated and there’s an ache between her thighs that she knows she will carry with her all of tomorrow, she curls into Killian’s side, her fingers tangling into the soft hair on his chest and her leg stuck between his calves. It’s perfect, especially with the way that Killian’s strong arm is wrapped around her shoulder and his fingers toy with the tips of her hair.

“Do the children look the same?” he ponders, pressing his mouth to her forehead and lingering there.

“Maribel’s hair has grown and gotten curlier, and I think she might be the slightest bit taller. Oliver is most definitely taller, and he’s lost some of his teeth. He looks ridiculous.”

Killian chuckles into her hair, and she feels his lips again. “Would I be horrible if I went to wake them up now so I can see them?”

She slaps his chest. “Yes! They already had a late night, and not even their Papa being home will wipe away their crankiness. Besides, I want you all to myself for as long as I can have you.”

It’s a quick tilt of her head upward to kiss his jaw before she settles back down against his shoulder.

“Will you take tomorrow off from the tavern? I think I’d like to have you and the children to myself as well. I don’t like traveling without you all.”

“I’m sure you and the crew get to have much more fun without all of us around.”

“Bloody hell, no, Emma. They all love you. It’s a bit disconcerting. It was just us for so long, but now, whenever we voyage without you, every man on that ship whines over not having you to talk with or to tell stories. I swear to you, darling, when I give an order, they look around for you like you are the Captain.”

“I always knew I had a commanding presence.”

“Aye, that’s very true. Scarlet has likely missed you as much as I have.”

“Good. I’ve missed him. The kids have too. I’m going to invite him to dinner when I next see him.”

“He’s already invited himself.”

She chuckles at that, burying her face into his shoulder and breathing in the salty smell of him, both the sea still on his skin as well as the sweat that formed during their lovemaking. “Are you going to tell me about your travels? Where did you go? Did you bring home any gold?”

“Ah, I knew you were only with me for my gold.” “You’ve foiled my plan.”

A sigh passes through his lips, and he straightens his shoulders, curling a bit more into her and tugging their quilt higher on the bed. “I will tell you everything you want to know, but Emma, I think I need you to tell me everything about your time here. I thought of you every day, and I want to make up for every moment that I’ve missed.”

-/-

When Emma wakes, the first thing she notices is the sunlight filtering through the window and the drapes, everything cast in a soft glow as her eyes adjust to yellow glow that’s brighter than she’s used to waking up to in the mornings. The second thing she notices is the lack of her husband in their bed, and when she runs her hand over the spot where he sleeps, it’s cold to the touch. For a moment, she worries once more that last night was a dream, that he’s not truly home, but the ache between her thighs and purpling bruise on her collarbone tell her otherwise.

Surely it was dreamy, but it was not a dream.

Slowly, she rises from the bed, moving over to her chest to find a shift to wear for this morning. She could get fully dressed, but since she doesn’t plan on leaving their cottage anytime soon, there is truly no point in wearing anything other than a pale blue shift that keeps her from walking around without clothes, which is perfectly fine with she and Killian, their children not so much.

The bedroom door is cracked when she goes to open it in search of Killian, and it doesn’t take long to find him. He’s sitting at the table, a plate of sausage and eggs in front of him that he must have gotten up and cooked, and Maribel is curled up in his lap with her arms wrapped around his stomach as much as she can reach and her unruly head of hair resting on his chest while she chews on a piece of bread. Oliver is sitting across from them, his hair sticking up in the back, and he’s very much eating off of Killian’s plate.

For as glad as she was to see Killian last night and as glad as she was to keep him to herself for a few hours, there are few sights like him sitting with his children listening to them talk over breakfast. It’s a routine in their life, one that happens whether they’re on land or sailing the seas, and it’s something that she didn’t know that she missed so damn much.

All of her loves in one place again. It’s the closest to perfection that life can get.

“And then,” Oliver gasps, his mouth very obviously full of food, “the man was loud with Mummy, but Aunt Ruby came out from the kitchen and told him that he couldn’t be mean to Mummy because you were going to show up.”

“Oh, was I going to protect Mummy then, lad?” Killian questions, raising a brow and winking so that she knows that he’s seen her this morning.

“Yes. You’re a pirate, so you have to protect Mummy and me and Maribel.”

“Is that what a pirate does?”

Oliver shrugs his shoulders. “Sometimes. You also drink lots rum and wear lots of jewelry with skulls on them.”

“Ah,” Killian sighs, spearing a piece of sausage with his fork and offering it to Maribel before he takes a bite out of it himself, “you are right on that, but I think you have more that you need to learn about being a pirate. I think I’ll have to take you and your sister to spend some more time on the Jolly Roger soon. Your bunk is waiting for you there.” “What?” Emma laughs, finally stepping away from the doorframe and walking toward her family, the wood cool beneath her feet. “Do I not get invited to spend time on the Jolly Roger and have pirate lessons?”

“You do, darling,” Killian smiles, tilting his head up so that she can press a kiss to his lips, one, two, three times. “Your bunk is waiting for you as well, preferably with me already in it.” He waggles his eyebrows at that, and she slaps his shoulder. The scoundrel. “But I think today I want to go to our beach and do a little swimming, maybe even some fishing, yeah?”

“Shells?” Maribel asks, looking up at Killian so that he can bop her nose.

“Aye, my little love, we can collect your shells as well. I have a jar of them that I’ve brought home for you to display above our fireplace.”

-/-

Emma’s knees are tugged up to her chest as she watches Killian and Oliver stand in the water with fishing poles in their hands. Killian has on a pair of old trousers that have been rolled up to his calves, but the water is still hitting them and soaking through the brown material. Those two have been standing in the water for nearly an hour now, and they haven’t caught a thing.

Not one.

And she’s not entirely sure why Killian hasn’t moved to another spot where the fish are more plentiful, but honestly, she thinks that it’s because Oliver keeps giggling and splashing about and Killian doesn’t care enough about catching them some dinner when their son is having such a good time.

(She doesn’t care either.)

“Mummy, look,” Maribel speaks quietly. She’s holding a handful of red and white shells, most of them unbroken but a few chipped on the sides.

“Those are beautiful, darling.” Emma holds her hand out to take them from Maribel so that she can carefully place them in the basket. “You’re doing so well in your collections. Papa is going to be so happy to see them.”

This gets a big grin out of Maribel, and Emma has to roll her eyes the slightest bit. The man leaves them for seven weeks, and yet he’s still got them wrapped around his finger.

(It’s the same with her.)

“We can keep them?”

“Yeah, kid, we can keep them. I’m going to put them in their home with all of the others.”

“I’m hungry.”

Emma laughs at the sudden change of subject, which is pretty common for this one, and she reaches forward to grab Maribel and start running her fingers over her stomach so that Maribel starts laughing in a fit of high-pitched giggles that could probably be captured in a jar and sold as pure joy.

“You’re hungry?” Emma teases, keeping her fingers moving as her daughter squirms. “What are we going to do about that, huh? I think we need to complain to your Papa and your brother that they aren’t catching us fish for dinner.”

“M-mummy,” Maribel squeals, her entire face scrunched up in laughter. “I want a sweet cake.”

“Maybe tomorrow, lovely,” Emma sighs, picking Maribel up and kissing her cheek. “Tomorrow we’ll go down to the docks and let Papa buy you a sweet cake, okay?”

Emma stands from the ground, the soft sand sinking below her feet, and picks Maribel up to rest on her hip while she walks the two of them out to the water, the bottom of her dress soaking with salt water. She needs to find some shorter pieces to wear when they’re on their secluded slice of the beach because there is really no other way to enjoy the ocean than letting it hit her bare skin as Killian swims around her.

“Darling,” Emma calls as she walks up to Killian and Oliver, “Maribel tells me that she’s ready for supper, and yet I don’t think the two of you have caught any fish.”

“Aye, well, the fish don’t seem to be as welcoming to my return as all of you are. Did you scare them off while I was away by telling them tall tales about me?”

“Papa, fish don’t talk,” Oliver corrects him.

“Fish talk like the ocean does, lad. Just because we do not speak their language does not mean they do not have one of their own.”

“I think you got too much sun on your trip, and now you’re crazy.”

She and Killian both snicker at Oliver’s words, the two of them unable to hide their laughs at him. Or rather with him. He’s such a smart child, one she cannot believe is her own, and one day she simply knows that he is going to grow up to be just like Killian.

They could all be so lucky.

-/-

“Should we move them to their beds?”

“Not now,” Emma sighs, leaning back into Killian’s chest and bringing his hands around her waist to rest on her stomach.

They came inside from the beach not an hour ago, staying out there much longer than anticipated when Killian and Oliver miraculously started to catch a few fish and then Maribel insisted that everyone continue to collect shells with her. All of their skin is a little darker than before and thankfully not red with burns, but Emma can tell that their children’s tiredness stems from a day out in the sunshine with little reprieve. It was wonderful in every conceivable way, but so is sitting in their den with Maribel and Oliver sound asleep on the plush rug while she and Killian sit together on their cushioned chair.

He may have spent most of his time today with their children, as he very well should have, but now that they are asleep, all of his attention is back to her, as it very well should be.

At least for these few moments.

Killian sighs behind her, and she feels his lips press into the skin at her shoulder, his nose moving away the fabric of the nightgown she’s changed into. “They are so wonderful. I never thought – after I lost Liam and Milah, I never thought that I would want to have children or would want to bring them into this world, but I cannot thank you enough for giving them to me.”

Her heartbeat stutters as emotion lodges itself in her throat, and all she can do is lean back further into his chest and squeeze his hands over where they reside on her stomach.

“It was a team effort, but since I did do most of the work, I will take that compliment.”

Killian laughs behind her, his entire chest moving with it so that she moves too. “No one in all of the realms has a wife with as much humor with you, I swear to it. I have asked hundreds of men.”

“You are ridiculous.”

“You are impossible.”

“And you love me for that.”

“Aye,” he mumbles, kissing her shoulder again while his nails trace patterns into her stomach and over her wrists, “I do. I love you and every part of your past and present that makes up who you are. I spent so many nights in my quarters wishing that I had you beside me in bed or that you were sitting at the table reading a book that you’ve already read many times over. I simply want to be beside you at all times, even when you are cross with me, and not having you with me nearly killed me. Every tavern the crew went into was wrong because you were not serving us our drinks and telling stories. Every beach I went to was empty because I didn’t have you to swim with me or the children to collect shells with me. You have changed every facet of my life, and I sometimes I feel inadequate in that I am not as nearly wonderful to you as you are to me.”

“Killian,” she immediately whispers before tilting her head back to kiss at his jaw. Her mind is still trying to wrap around all of his words, of the emotions behind them all, but she does not need time to know that the last little bit is utterly and completely false. “You are my everything, and it’s my wish that you never feel inadequate in how much you mean to me, to us. You are the one who has changed every facet of my life, who takes me on great adventures and shows me how much of the world that there is to discover, but in truth, I need nothing more than for you to hold me as we fall asleep or for you to make me laugh at any and all times of the day. Right now, right here, you are giving me more than enough by simply being who you are.”

His head nods behind her, the scruff of his newly shaven beard pleasantly scratching against her skin, and his warmth radiates over every inch of her body, embracing her as he does.

“I love you, my beloved, and I promise to hold you just like this for as long as I can as I do not have any inclination as to why I should let go.”

Emma closes her eyes and takes hold of his hands once more, bringing his knuckles to her lips so that she can brush a kiss over each one.

She’s never letting go either.

#mistress of the sea #cs fic #cs ff #captain swan fic #Captain Swan

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alj4890 · 4 years

Text

Misfortune's Intentions

(Liam x OC*Elisse Millan) (Drake x Riley)

A/N A couple more months have gone by. Liam and Elisse have attended many of the same events in Cordonia, gradually getting closer to one another. In this chapter, they begin the necessary steps toward a more personal relationship. Liam also has an honest conversation to the two that he once trusted the most.

@gkittylove99 @krsnlove @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @hopefulmoonobject @yourmajesty09 @mom2000aggie @ofpixelsandscribbles

Masterlist

Chapter 3 Heart’s Honesty

The Royal Palace, Cordonia...

Liam looked up when he heard the murmur of feminine voices passing by on their way to the solarium.

Creeping towards the cracked door, he peeped out to see who it was.

He caught just a glimpse of Olivia, Riley, and Madeleine turning toward the right.

Curious yet not wishing to get caught up in conversation with any of them, he settled back in his chair and continued to review a trade proposal Elisse had given him from Amalas.

Monterisso's queen was not going to wait around on Riley's baby in making inroads toward a strong, beneficial relationship between their two countries. Since the pregnancy had been announced a couple of months back, Liam and his close knit group of friends had spent numerous events speaking to pushy foreign monarchs.

The only bright side to meeting so often, were the moments he had with Elisse. They were few and far between and much too short to satisfy him. A dance shared, a few words spoken here and there, possibly a shared smile over a private joke. All ended up making her the first person he searched for when entering into a room.

"Would you like me to bring a tray in here, your majesty or would you prefer having lunch in the dining room?"

Liam looked up at one of the footmen. "A tray, please." He called the man back. "Is there some gathering this afternoon?"

"The Queen Mother is hosting some ladies for tea in the solarium." The footman replied.

"Ah." Liam tried to focus. "Do you know who she invited?"

"I know some, sir."

Liam cocked an eyebrow, trying not to be impatient.

"Duchess Riley is the honored guest." The footman began to go through the usual name of Cordonian ladies. "Queen Isabella and Queen Amalas have also arrived."

Liam grit his teeth at not hearing what he wanted to most. "Did Queen Amalas bring another lady with her, by chance?"

"I'm not sure, sir. Should I go inquire?"

"No." Liam muttered. "Just bring my lunch in here, please."

"At once, sir." He bowed and left the king alone.

"There you are."

Liam nearly cursed. "Drake. Join me, won't you?"

"Thanks." He sat down on the couch across from him. "Haven't seen much of you recently."

Liam held up the documents he was reading. "Kingdom business."

"Ah." Drake drummed his fingers on his pants.

Liam tried to tune him out.

"Riley's having a tea party with Regina and a few others."

"So I've heard."

"Did you know the Spy Queen has returned?"

"Yes." Liam responded. "So did Auvernal's queen."

Drake ran a hand through his hair. "So, uh, have you gotten anything out of the spy that has taken up residence nearby?"

Liam lowered the documents. "Spy? What are you talking about?"

"Your investigation with Queen Amalas’s cousin." Drake narrowed his eyes. "That is why you are spending so much time with her isn't it?"

"Lady Elisse is more of a messenger between me and Amalas." Liam bit out.

"I've never seen you make sure to share most of your dances with messengers before, much less spend anymore time than you have to."

"I am doing exactly what I promised." Liam informed him. "I am taking time to get to know her. All these new events have limited my chances to be alone with her."

"Alone with her?" Drake leaned forward. "Why are you wanting to be alone with her?"

At this moment, Liam did not want to admit to Drake that he believed he was ready to try and fall in love again. He had yet to actually have a real date with Elisse, much less kiss her. He also wasn't certain her own feelings about taking that next step.

She seems to like me, he thought. Is it more than a friend? Or am I simply fooling myself like I did with Riley?

"Li?" Drake waved a hand. "Still with me?"

Liam closed his eyes. "Yes, sorry." He cleared his throat. "If I am alone with her, then she will be more inclined to talk about things she would never feel comfortable doing at a crowded gathering."

Drake slowly nodded. "That's true. Sounds like a good plan."

A plan to test her and see if she feels as I do, Liam thought.

"Are you going to try and get her alone after the queen's tea?"

Liam's eyes widened. "Elisse is here?"

"Well, yeah." Drake tilted his head slightly. "Liam, you sure there isn't anything wr--"

"Positive." Liam excused himself. "I need to put these papers in the study. Feel free to call down to the kitchen for an extra tray for lunch."

***************

The Solarium, Royal Palace, Cordonia...

What would I do without all these pastries?

Elisse gratefully took another bite of a strawberry tart. If her mouth was full then she wouldn't be pressured to talk.

Which was a good thing considering how she felt about Lady Riley Walker.

It nearly turned her stomach at how everyone was complimenting the waitress turned duchess. There was only so much bowing and scraping for attention Elisse could stand.

Especially to someone who had hurt Liam so horribly.

It didn't take a mind reader to realize that the reason Cordonia's king was not actively courting or planning on having little princes and princesses of his own was sitting across from her, gushing about what kind of father Drake would be.

"He has already promised to take all the late night diaper changes." Riley giggled.

Elisse didn't bother to hide her eye roll, earning a slight kick from her cousin.

Amalas sent her the look that somehow conveyed the reminder that they were trying to gain favor with the woman carrying the royal heir so stop making faces at every little thing she says.

Feeling somewhat chastised for possibly letting her cousin down, Elisse averted her gaze and poured herself another cup of tea.

How much longer are we going to have to sit here?

"Bradshaw would have fainted dead away if I remotely asked him to change one of the twins diapers." Isabella's brittle smile formed with the mention of her husband and children.

Elisse's eyes narrowed somewhat as she studied Auvernal's queen. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but there was something not quite right. She cut her eyes to Amalas, wondering if she too was seeing this.

Her cousin tucked a lock of her own hair behind her right ear and gently tugged on the earlobe.

Elisse returned her attention to the conversations, satisfied with that secret signal that Amalas not only saw it but was planning on investigating it further.

"What about you?" Riley asked.

Elisse glanced up and realized that all eyes were on her.

"I'm sorry." She stammered. "Did you ask me something?"

"Can you picture your husband changing diapers?" Riley prodded.

"I'm not married." Elisse forced a pleasant smile. "It's difficult enough imagining him doing so when I don't even know what he looks like."

"Oh!" Riley glared over at Madeleine. "I'm sorry. I was told you were married."

Madeleine chuckled softly. "Perhaps if you read the reports I give you, you wouldn't make a mistake like that."

Riley ignored her and focused once more on Elisse. She was determined to find out more about this woman who seemed to always find a way to be near Liam.

"Enough baby talk." She decided. "Let's talk romance."

"Zeke is taking me to Switzerland next week." Penelope shyly said. "A trip for just the two of us."

Kiara laughed. "He is so excited about it. It is all he talks of whenever one of us asks him something." She smiled at Penelope's blush. "Très romantique, non?"

"Very." Hana sighed. "You two are so sweet together."

"Anyone else have that special someone?" Riley asked. "Or needs a little help from Cupid to get them to act right?"

Olivia shook her head. "By Cupid, you mean you."

"I do." The duchess replied. "I know all about stubborn men trying their hardest to keep from being with the perfect person for them."

Elisse sat up a little straighter. "Is that how you and his grace got together?" She did her best to make her question sound like polite curiosity. "Did you have to convince him to be with you?"

Amalas stilled. She had been the one to tell Elisse all of what happened during Liam and Madeleine's engagement tour.

Riley had a dreamy expression on her face. "Drake Walker put up quite the fight. It took all my I had to get him to be with me."

"When did you realize he was worth it?" Elisse asked while turning in her chair so that Amalas couldn't kick her again. "Most would have focused on someone who seemed interested."

Olivia snorted in agreement. "I will never understand how you could choose Walker over Liam."

Riley's smile turned tender. "What can I say? He was a complete marshmallow whenever we were alone. I saw past his snark and knew he had to be mine."

"I think it's terribly romantic." Hana added. "He has shown over and over that you are the most important person in his life."

While Hana and Riley went through the list of things that made Drake perfect, Elisse tbought of Liam's actions in each scenario.

"He took a bullet for her." Hana explained to the visitors.

"I will begrudgingly give him credit for that." Olivia grumbled. "That and for helping take Anton down."

Elisse mentally countered that with Liam coming and facing Anton and his minions alone to rescue the couple.

"He sounds like he will be a protective father." Amalas interjected before they continued to extol his virtues. "One that knows the value of family."

Issabella narrowed her eyes at her. "I agree. Which is why I would love to have him as father-in-law to one of my," she took a gulp of tea, "darling twins."

While the two queens tried to sway Riley toward choosing their children, Liam stepped into the sunroom.

Regina looked up and smiled. "Liam dear, would you care to join us for a cup of tea?"

He shook his head. "Thank you, but I came in here for something else." His charming smile flashed to the ladies. "I do hate to interrupt, but I need to speak to Lady Elisse a moment."

She set her teacup down. "Yes, of course, your majesty."

When Liam noticed the curious looks, he explained that he needed her to clarify one of the requests in the document she had given him.

"Perhaps you need Queen Amalas too." Isabella smirked. "Since she is Monterisso's ruler. Plus, I'm certian Duchess Riley would enjoy hearing something other than Prince Josip's darling ways."

Amalas kept her cool and did not rise to the bait. "I would be more than happy to." She winked at her cousin. "But Elisse was such a help to me as I drafted it that she knows it as well as I do."

"We will only be a moment." Liam promised, setting Elisse's hand in the bend of his arm.

Riley, Olivia, and Hana all shared a knowing look.

Regina noticed their exchange and cleared her throat.

"Would anyone care for more tea?"

**************

Once they were out of earshot of the solarium, Elisse spoke up.

"What problem did you come across in the trade agreement?"

Liam's cheeks flushed. "Actually, I haven't seen any problem."

"Oh." She attempted to not let her imagination get away from her. "Then why did you take me away from the tea?"

Liam rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm not--that is--I" he chuckled softly while turning to face her. "I guess I simply wanted to see you."

Elisse doubted that anyone could be more adorable than Liam was in this moment.

She smiled and lowered her eyes. "Would it be too forward to say that I had hoped to causally bump into you while here for the tea party?"

"Definitely. Much too forward." He responded in a serious tone.

Her head jerked up and she saw the humor in his eyes.

She playfully pushed him away. "That certainly cured me of ever doing so again."

He laughed out loud, took her hand, and pulled her along with him.

"Where are we going?" She asked.

"To my study to look over the documents."

"But I thought you said there wasn't a problem."

Liam opened the door for her. "There isn't. But one must have their alibis in order, m'lady."

"What am I to do with you?" She teased once he shut the door.

Liam allowed his heated gaze to settle on her. Her question sparked his imagination. There were several things he would love for her to do with him.

"Is this where you spend most of your day?" She asked, exploring his bookshelves.

"For the most part."

Her eyes cut over to him. His casual stance as he leaned against the door was one she was noticing happened whenever they were near one another. His image he maintained to the rest of the world was one of proper, ram rod posture. There was rarely any softening or relaxed muscles.

Except with me, she thought.

Still highly curious and a touch nervous, Elisse sat down on a small couch.

"The Queen Mother told us about the ball you're hosting. How are the preparations going?"

Liam shrugged on his way to sit near her. "They must be going well. No one has come to me with any problems yet."

She turned towards him. "Is it for a special reason?"

You mean other than wanting a night where I can easily steal you away?

Liam kept that response to himself. "I suppose it is. Now that Lady Riley has gotten over most of the morning sickness, we can host a ball in honor of the royal heir."

Elisse was unable to control her facial expression. "I see."

Liam's eyebrows drew together. He had noticed that same irritated expression appear whenever the viscountess heard that particular name. "Elisse, do you not care for Riley?"

Her lips parted, ready to admit how she truly felt about the one that had hurt him, only to close shut. She knew she needed to be more diplomatic for Amalas’s sake.

She turned away from him and shook her head. "She seems pleasant."

Elisse was surprised she didn't choke on that word.

"Pleasant?" Liam's lips began to curve.

"Yes." She pointedly looked out the window, knowing he was amused at her answer.

If I look at him, it will all be over, she thought. She had to fight to keep her smile from appearing as he slid closer to her.

"You find Lady Riley pleasant?" He propped his elbow on the back of the couch and rested his head on his hand. "I don't think I have ever heard such a mild compliment toward her before."

Elisse was unable to resist and turned back toward him. He quirked an eyebrow in silent question when she simply stared at his face.

All she could think about was how generous he had been. Allowing Riley to live here to be near Drake. Giving her a title and a castle. Hosting their wedding. Standing as best man. Fighting to save their lives with little regard to his own safety. And now to naming their child as his heir.

Kindness barely scratchs the surface, she thought.

"Elisse?"

"Hmm?"

"What are you thinking so hard about?"

Without pausing to consider if she would end up embarrassed by her answer, she said exactly what was on her mind.

"You."

Liam didn't think any other answer could possibly top that one.

He slid his hand over hers. "I think of you often."

"You do?"

"No." He grinned at her frown. "It is more than often. You are rarely if ever far from my mind."

Her warm smile returned. "I suppose I am the same way."

Liam drummed up the courage to ask her out. "Elisse, would you--"

"Liam, I wanted to--" Riley's eyes widened at the pair on the couch. "Sorry. Drake told me he had seen you come in here. I didn't know you were still reviewing..."she noticed there wasn't one scrap of paper between them, "trade documents."

"We cleared that matter up quickly." Liam kept a hold on Elisse's hand. "Is there anything you need, Riley?"

"Yes, um, the ball. What exactly did you have planned?"

"Is there anything other than dancing, drinks, and food that Cordonians do at balls?" Elisse teased.

Liam chuckled. "Other than taking a moment to obsess over our apples, not really."

Riley narrowed her eyes. Their little jokes and touches were more serious than she thought.

"I wanted to come in and offer my help, if needed." She muttered.

"Thank you, but everything is under control."

Riley hesitated a moment. "Liam, Drake and I were hoping to speak with you," she glanced at Elisse, "privately."

Liam sighed softly. "I'll join you and Drake in the west drawing room in a moment."

"Okay." She couldn't think of a reason to stick around and see what was going to happen between him and the viscountess.

Once she shut the door, Elisse focused on Liam. "I suppose I should find Amalas."

"Not yet, please." He lowered his eyss to her hand in his. "Lady Elisse," he cleared his throat, "I was wondering if you would like to have dinner with me one night."

"Of course. I know we should to discuss the terms--"

"Not for work." He quickly interrupted. "I'm asking you for a date."

Elisse wondered if he could hear her heart pounding. "I would love to."

Liam released the breath he had been holding. "Then I will call you this evening and we will discuss the details."

She stood up, suddenly more nervous than she had been. "I look forward to it."

Liam lifted her hand to his lips. "So do I."

***********

"Drake, they were definitely not talking about trade deals." Riley paced back and forth. "He was holding her hand!"

"Take it easy." He placed his hands on her shoulders. "You know stress isn't good for you and the baby."

"What if Liam starts insisting that we sign an arranged marriage between our baby and Queen Amalas's son?" She cradled her small belly. "What will we do then?"

"We'll fix this." Drake reassured her. "Aren't you the one to point out how we always find a way to defeat those that come at us?"

She slowly nodded.

"Then don't worry." He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. "We got this, Brooks."

The couple looked up when Liam came into the room.

“You wished to speak to me.” He sat down in one of the chairs.

“Liam,” Drake began, “what were you speaking to Elisse about?”

“We were discussing dinner plans this week.”

"Dinner plans? You have a date with Elisse?" Riley asked.

"Yes." Liam didn't bother to hide his smile. "We've had dinner and lunches together numerous times, but..." His voice held a hint of the true happiness he felt. "It has always been work related. I thought it was time for us to be together for no other reason than because we want to."

"But she's the Spy queen's cousin!" Riley exclaimed.

Liam quirked an eyebrow at her. "I know who her family members are."

Riley motioned to Drake to say something.

He cleared his throat. "Li, you know we only want to see you happy." He shifted under Liam's piercing gaze. "But we don't know if we can trust Amalas or anyone associated with her."

"I know I can." Liam's tone held a warning to not push him on this. "Elisse has never brought up the subject of your child marrying Amalas's son."

"She is probably waiting until you get more comfortable around her." Riley grumbled. "Seems like something a secret agent would do. Seduce the target into agreeing--"

Liam's hand slammed down on the end table next to him, causing the couple to jump in surprise.

"That's enough!" He snapped. His kingly authority reverberated within the formal drawing room. "I won't hear another word against Elisse." His blue eyes sparked with fury. "What proof do you have?"

"None." Riley stepped back from his glare. "Liam, you're so trusting that anyone can take advantage of your kindness."

"Yes," his soft tone scared them even more than his shouting. "I can see where you would both think that, given that I trusted you."

"Liam, what are you talking about?" Riley asked.

"I'm talking about the fact that nearly three years ago I trusted you with my heart." His eyes went from one to the other. "I laid it at your feet, Riley, and asked Drake to guard you while I tried to help uncover this conspiracy against you." He folded his arms. "If anyone shouldn't be trusted in this kingdom at the moment, it would be the two who betrayed me in the worst possible way."

Tear slipped down Riley's cheeks. "Liam, I...I thought you understood." She swallowed. "You stood there as Drake's best man at our wedding. You named our child your heir."

"Just because I understood, forgave you, and accepted it; that does not necessarily mean that I have forgotten." He replied. “I still trust you, but I have become more cautious in doing so.”

"Liam," Drake's voice cracked with regret. "I'm sorry. I had no idea you still felt--"

"I don't." Liam interrupted. "I haven't for a while now." His stance relaxed with his next words. “Since meeting Elisse, I have realized that I am able to move on from the past.”

He thought of the excitement he felt just in anticipating seeing her again. That desire to touch her. Finally feel what her lips against his. Seeing her smile. Holding her close.

He focused again on two people he still considered his best friends. "Regardless of what her cousin does, Elisse is innocent. She is the woman I intend on knowing on a personal level. You either support me in that and treat her with every bit of friendship and courtesy she deserves or you can return to Valtoria until you are able to do so."

With that, Liam left the couple with jaws dropped.

**************

Pier at Cordonia’s Capital a few nights later...

"Elisse?" Liam called out when he finally reached The Semblance sailboat.

She popped up from the galley. "Liam?"

His smile formed when she came over.

She climbed up the side, held onto the various ropes, and leaned forward. "Ready to come aboard?"

"You know, I'm not exactly fond of boats." He admitted. "One too many bad experiences."

Her smile turned tender. "I know. That's why we aren't going sailing." She tilted her head to where she had a table set. "I just wanted a spot where I could have you to myself."

Liam grabbed the same ropes and pulled himself until he was face to face with her. His lips curved at her slight intake of breath. "I could be on board with that."

She rolled her eyes playfully while groaning. Gripping his blazer she tugged him onto the boat. "Only you are cute enough to get away with that awful pun."

"I try." He teased.

She slipped her arm around him. "I hope you like what I prepared." Her eyes darted around as if she was worried someone would overhear. "Felix has been trying his hardest to teach me how to cook."

"Elisse, you shouldn't have gone to so much trouble." Liam tucked her long dark hair over her shoulder. "Just having a moment with you away from court and our duties is enough for me."

"Liam," she slid her arms up his chest, "I have a confession."

He placed his hands on her waist. "Oh?"

"Years ago, Amalas began a file on you." Her eyes darted to his lips before lifting once more to his crystal clear blue eyes. "And I read it."

Liam grimaced. "It sounds like you're about to say something I'm not going to like."

Her tender smile caused him to pause in pulling away.

"On the contrary," she stepped closer to him, "everything I read, I liked." Her dark brown eyes held his. "That's why I hope you like everything I've done."

Unable to resist the temptation any longer, Liam captured her lips in a heated kiss.

Her fingers tangled in his hair as he continued the sweet exchange.

Their eyes met as they began to part, only for them both to rush forward in a more passionate kiss.

"Liam." She said in a breathless voice when his lips brushed her cheek. "I've been waiting on you to do that for months now."

He chuckled, cuddling her close. "You have no idea how often I wanted to shove everything off my desk and yank you on it."

Her eyes twinkled. "I might have had similar thoughts."

He thought his face was in danger of being set in a permanent goofy grin.

A breeze brought their attention back to the carefully set table.

"I don't want to let your dinner go to waste." He murmured, kissing her neck.

"It probably tasted horrible anyway." She smiled at hearing his laughter. "I would like to get a second date out of this. My dinner might have sent you running as far away from me as you can."

"It wouldn't." He pressed his forehead against hers. "I have no intention of running away from you, Elisse."

Her smile took his breath away. With a slight joyful squeal, she kissed him once more.

"Would you like to lay here and watch the stars appear?" She motioned toward another section of the boat she had piled with an air mattress, blankets, and pillows. A bucket with chilled champagne was on hand with two glasses.

"Love to." He let her go, watching as she retrieved some strawberries and set them nearby their pallet.

He popped the champagne and filled their glasses.

"What should we toast to?" He asked.

"To the longest waited first date ever." She tapped her glass against his. "And how happy I am to finally be here with you."

Liam held her gaze as he downed his glass. He set it to the side and pulled her back in his arms. "Nowhere near as happy as I am."

****************

A few ships over, Olivia lowered her binoculars.

“The date seems to be going well.” She whispered.

“Do you think she can be trusted?” Hana asked.

“There’s only one way to know for sure.” Olivia passed the binoculars to her accomplice. “We need to dig up all we can on the viscountess and queen from Monterisso as well as everything I can on Auvernal’s monarchs.”

“If Liam falls in love with her,” Hana took a deep breath, “it will hurt him horribly if we discover she is using him.”

“He’s already been through so much.” Olivia murmured. “I don’t want to be the one to deliver news like that to him.”

“But we promised Riley we would investigate Elisse.” Hana shifted. “Do you think she is wrong about suspecting her?”

“I--” For the first time, Olivia doubted they needed to spy on Elisse. “I honestly don’t know.”

#misfortune's intentions #choices the royal heir #liam x oc #drake x riley #trh liam #choices trh #trh drake #choices olivia #choices hana

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msjr0119 · 5 years

Text

Forgive me

Part 8- Please go

A mini series, includes suicide and abuse.

Based on true events but using TRR characters who are owned by Pixelberry.

This chapter is a short one compared to the others 😊

Tags:

@annekebbphotography @burnsoslow @drakesensworld @ladyangel70 @kingliam2019 @bbrandy2002 @butindeed @bascmve01 @drakewalker04 @pedudley @captain-kingliamsqueen @duchessemersynwalker @insideamirage @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @kozabaji @texaskitten30 @ibldw-main @kimmiedoo5 @nikkis1983 @dangerouseggseagleartisan @gnatbrain @walker7519 @lodberg @cmestrella @hopefulmoonobject @addictedtodrakefanfic @angi15h @liamxs-world @rafasgirl23415 @notoriouscs @yukinagato2012 @dcbbw @qammh-blog @nz1091 @beardedoafdonutwagon @cordonianroyalty @custaroonie @lauradowning29

*****

Riley explained to her manager that she couldn’t work her notice and had to leave immediately. Furious with her for leaving him in the shit, she didn’t care one bit. Minimum wage payment wasn’t an issue when Liam needed her and Lucas. Storming out of the bar she knew she’d be able to get another waitressing gig elsewhere. He treat her and Daniel like shit anyway- she was surprised that neither of them had walked out prior to this.

Picking Lucas up from Robs, he could tell there was tension between Riley and Drake - asking if they were going to be civil travelling together due to the death threat eyes Riley was providing him.

Eagerly waiting for Maxwell and Bastien to turn up, it felt like eternity. Her nails were none existent, she was pacing not being able to stay still.

“Lady Riley, Prince Lucas, Sir Walker, Lady Ella- I’m so sorry for the delay. Are you all okay?”

“Get us on that plane quick Bastien! I’m not wasting anymore time.”

“Hey guys!” Maxwell said in a nervous yet chirpy tone of voice. Riley couldn’t figure out if this was an defence mechanism to cover up his true emotional feelings.

“Riley, he’s fine. Just a few cuts and bruises.”

“Max don’t lie to me. I’m a big girl. Drake explained that he’s blind.” Maxwell laughed at her, before composing himself- she looked as if she was about to murder him.

“Yes, but Drake hung up before we could elaborate on anything regarding the attack.” Looking at him bewildered, she couldn’t read his expression, which frustrated her. “It’s just temporary- due to the explosions dust and light, it entered his eyes. They said it usually only lasts a few minutes- so hopefully when we get back he will be back to his normal self. He had a fit when he arrived at hospital. But he’s fine. Kiara will be fine. You should have seen him fight off the assassins Riley. Liam is like our superman. He is selfless and will protect everyone.”

“Was anyone else injured?” Praying that no one had become injured. It could have been me.

“No, we all escaped with cuts and bruises. He was grateful that neither you or Lucas was there.”

“Liam!” Maxwell ran over to his friend ignoring the guards advise to evacuate everyone immediately.

“Max, get out now!”

“No, I’m not leaving you. You can’t order me- you’re not the king yet.”

“I might not ever get to be King. I can’t see.”

“You are going to be King. We will get you out of here. What do you mean you can’t see?”

“I can’t see Max, it’s all dark. Please just look after yourself and help others.”

“No liam, they are all okay- you are our future.”

“My future is looking bleak at the moment. I don’t want anyone to see me like this. I’m fine. Go and check on everyone- your future kings orders.”

“Li, your future is amazing. I’ll personally go and get Riley and Lucas. They need you.”

“Don’t you dare bring them here. I’m grateful that they weren’t here- I can’t lose them but I don’t want her seeing me like this.”

Maxwell had given Riley a bit of hope- still furious with Drake for not getting the full facts before dropping a bombshell that tore her heart apart. Riley sat with Maxwell on the flight- falling asleep on him, he could tell that she was less tense than when she was when he arrived in New York.

*****

Arriving in Cordonia- they immediately headed straight to the hospital, they entered through the back entrance as there was press stalking the main entrance- all eagerly waiting for the latest scoop.

Maxwell escorted Riley to Liam’s room, offering to look after Lucas, Riley was grateful for him having a heart of gold. Spend some time with your fun uncle Lucas, whilst mommy sees d- uncle Liam.

Shaking as she opened the door, she didn’t know what to expect. She was tempted to read up on the attacks but she knew it would kill her deep down. Was this the warning that Leo had been threatened with?

“Liam.” She whispered, barely comprehending what was in front of her.

“Who’s there?” Liam shouted, panic stricken. The nurse comforted Riley as she remained silent still in shock- explaining his sight was back- but it could still be blurry with a chance of migraines in the future. Explaining that the padded dressing was for precaution to prevent any further infection, to allow the eyes to rest and heal. “We inserted some dye into his highnesses eyes- don’t worry it is harmless. After examining them, it shows that there is no permanent damage. Don’t worry. He’s in the best hands.”

The nurse exited the room. Sitting next to him, she held his clammy hand. Bringing it up to her lips- she kissed it, hoping he would recognise her using his other senses.

“Riley?” Liam breathed in her distinctive scent- the perfume he became familiar with when she was in Cordonia.

“I’m here. Don’t worry.”

“I don’t want you to see me like this. Please go.”

“Liam I’m not leaving you. I’m here now so you’re stuck with me. I’ve seen worse states remember.” Believing that she was some type of unlucky charm- first Leo, now Liam had become hurt. Liam felt guilty with his self pity after realising that she was referring to her finding Leo’s lifeless body. But still panicked thoughts kept repeating through his mind- what if she didn’t want to associate with him and the danger involved with being part of the royal family.

“You deserve better. What if I never get better?”

“Don’t tell me what I deserve Liam. You will get better. You have us all to help you- you have me. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“What can I say? I’m a sucker for the Rhys charm. I love you.” Cupping his cheeks, she lent down and kissed him. A kiss she had been wanting to do for the last week. “I’ve missed you so much. Are you going back to New York?” Riley could hear the sadness in his tone of voice.

“I can’t- there’s two reasons why I can’t. Three in fact. One I’m homeless. Two I haven’t got a job and I won’t get paid for my notice that I worked. Three, I can’t leave you. Robs going to sort the sale out for me. I’m going to look after you, I can’t lose you too.”

“Shouldn’t it be the Prince protecting the Princess?” Liam regretting saying this, being too upfront about his feelings.

“What did I tell you about calling me Princess, your highness.”

“A guy can wish can’t he?”

“Wish what?” Riley wondered how dosed up he was on the drugs the hospital provided him with, or if it was the bang to head that made him speak random words.

“That you’ll become my princess.”

*****

Anton was pacing up and down the room, he had seen the new reports regarding the attack- the press was lacking in disclosing information. Hearing the door open, his minions looked beat up and defeated. Anton clenched his jaw as they all remained silent. Hoping they had positive news for him- one way or another he was going to be the rightful king.

“Did you do it?”

“Yes Sir. But there were no fatalities. Injuries, yes.”

“Can’t you do a simple task?” Frustrated that his men couldn’t eliminate at least one member of the royal family- he was in a dilemma about what to do now.

“Anton! The palace was surrounded by guards. We tried our best, and I think we scared them. We need to do the next attack when they are least expecting it. When half the nobles aren’t there for some royal event.”

“Is Riley and the sprog back?”

“Yes sir, I do believe so. I heard that the royal jet had shortly left the palace after we attacked. Walker wasn’t there either. I’m unsure about his whereabouts.”

“Oh don’t worry about Walker. He’s nothing like his so called father. He’s not a threat. As far as he’s aware he’s a commoner- and that’s how it’s staying. Regarding Riley- good, a face from her past is about to haunt her.”

#theroyalromance #choices trr #riley brooks #drakewalker #maxwell beaumont #liam rhys #riley x liam #trr forgive me

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