#i got sucked into the royal side of europe

[tripably]

Yesterday I saw a tiktok about the inbreeding in the house of Habsburg, so I googled it, and a couple of hours later I found myself trying to keep my eyes open reading about the history of the Norwegian monarchy.

Because King Olav V of Norway attended the wedding of King Carl Gustaf XVI and Silvia Sommerlath.

Because I was reading about Prince Carl Philip of Sweden. Because he's hot in Spanish he has the same name as Carlos Felipe de Habsburgo, who's father was Archduke Felix of Austria, who was the fourth son of Emperor Charles I of Austria, who was the last monarch to rule over Austria-Hungary.

Somewhere in between reading about the line of succesion and marriages related to the rule of Austria-Hungary I also read a great deal about the line of succession and marriages related to the rule of Germany and Prussia.

Anyway, I read all that yesterday before going to bed. The one thing that actually stuck with me? The one person I wanted to re-read about again the first thing this morning?

Prince Carl of Sweden and Norway, Duke of Västergötland, who was the third son of King Oscar II of Sweden and Norway, and had three daughters and a son.

Princess Margaretha of Sweden, who married Prince Axel of Denmark (for love<3), who was the first cousin to the King of Denmark, King of Norway, King of Greece, King of UK, Emperor of Russia, as well as the first cousin to the father of Prince Philip (Lizzie's spouse). So, you know, a lot of royal cousins.

Princess Märtha of Sweden, who married the Prince Alexander of Denmark (future King Olav V of Norway), making Märtha the Crown Princess of Norway. She passed away before her husband became the king, but her only son is the current king of Norway.

Princess Astrid of Sweden, who married Prince Leopold of Belgium, Duke of Brabant and the future King of the Belgians. For a year and a half, she was the Queen of the Belgians, before dying in a car accident at the age of 29. Both her two sons became the King of Belgians (the first one didn't have children).

Then we have Prince Carl, who's biggest positive achievement in life was to have such sisters. He himself was involved in the so-called Huseby Scandal, which I'm still trying to understand. Something to do with taking advantage of Florence Stephens, heiress to the Huseby estate.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Eddie Munson's royal scandal

Written for @astrangersummer, week 15

Words: 1,633 (also on AO3)

Prompt: Royal and/or Modern AU

Relationship: Steve/Eddie

Rated: T

Tags: Modern AU; Royal AU; Rock star Eddie; Royal Steve; Secret relationship; Fluff and angst

Notes: Previous part | Part 1

The fucking photo is everywhere. 

Eddie knows he should stop checking, should probably delete all his social media accounts and drop his phone in the ocean, maybe throw himself right after. Maybe he would, if that would change anything. He groans, slamming the phone down on the table and burying his face in his hands. 

They've been so careful, and for what? 

One second of weakness, one stolen moment by the backstage entrance of Eddie’s last gig, and everything is falling to pieces. He should’ve known better. You're never really alone, no matter how safe you deem yourself. Steve even less than Eddie. 

“I mean, not to be a smartass,” Chrissy’s voice pulls him from his thoughts. She's seated on the opposite side of his kitchen table, laptop in front of her. “But you do realize you could've just waited until you got to your hotel room?” 

Eddie stops pulling at his own hair to give her a tired look. 

“I missed him, okay? Between my Europe tour and his stupid state visit to Asia, it was the first time in months that we saw each other. It was literally just one kiss.” 

Chrissy gives him a look.

“Eddie, I love you,” she says flatly. “But it looks like you're trying to suck out his tonsils with your tongue.” 

Eddie’s forehead joins the phone on the table. 

“I know,” he groans. “Fuck. What do we do now, Chris?” 

She doesn’t answer right away, and that scares him more than anything. Chrissy always knows what to do.

“Maybe it won't be as bad,” she says, but she doesn’t sound convinced. “I mean the picture is quite grainy. You're pretty recognizable with your stage outfit and the tattoos, but Steve? He could be just some guy, really.”

“Yeah, no,” Eddie huffs, picking up his phone again. His private messages are blowing up, but he doesn’t find it in himself to open them. “Have you met those royal fangirls? Batshit crazy, man. They have the shape of his moles memorized and all.” 

“You have the shape of his moles memorized,” Chrissy provides. 

Eddie glowers at her, and her face goes soft.

“Hey,” she says, shutting her laptop and taking his hand. “We'll figure it out, I promise. I know it looks bad now, but-” 

She's interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. 

“That'll be the pizza,” she smiles. “I'll get it, you stay seated. Let's talk about this after dinner, I'm sure things will look a lot less dire on a full stomach.”

Eddie has half a mind to ask her how pizza is supposed to fix a single one of their problems. But he knows she's only trying to help, so he doesn’t say anything and shoots her a tight smile as she flounces out. 

The door opens.

“Oh, hi,” Chrissy says, and Eddie knows from the way her voice goes strained that it's not the pizza. “Eddie didn't mention you were- hey, wait, you can't just-” 

Eddie is already out of his chair and halfway around the table when Hopper comes stomping into the kitchen. He looks intimidating as ever in his shades and dark suit with the royal sigil pinned to the lapel. Today, he's also looking particularly pissed. 

“You!” he barks as soon as he spots Eddie. “You're coming with me. Move.” 

Behind him, Chrissy hovers in the doorway, wide-eyed and pale. 

“I can't,” Eddie says lamely. “I have pizza on the way.” 

Hopper looks at him like he's silently regretting all career choices that have led him to this moment.

“What you have,” he says,” is an appointment at the palace. Now c’mon, or you're paying for my parking ticket.” 

*

Eddie hasn't been to the palace more than a few times, and as on all of his previous visits, the paintings and the chandeliers and the gold and brocade of it all make him feel uncomfortable and on edge. So what if he's been secretly dating the crown prince right under the nose of the public for months? He's still allowed to think that the exaggerated splendor surrounding everything royal is a remnant of a long dead feudal system and a waste of tax money with no place in the modern world. It's called nuance, thank you very much.

Hopper nudges him into a lavish salon or drawing room or whatever the fuck they're called - one with a crackling fire and plush armchairs and a small fortune in antiques lining the walls - and wordlessly pulls the door shut behind him. In one of the chairs, gazing at his phone, side profile lit by the golden firelight, is Steve. 

“Remember all those times Munson said fuck the monarchy?” he says without looking up. It takes Eddie a very confused second to realize he's reading from the comments under the damned photo. “Never realized he meant that literally. Charming. They even got creative with the emoji, look.” 

He flips the phone around. Eddie sinks into the armchair across from him and winces. “I know, I know. So, on a scale from one to ten, how bad is it?” 

“Hm?” Steve says. He's in jeans and a cable-knit sweater, thin wire frame glasses perched on his nose. He looks utterly biteable. Except that's what got them into this mess in the first place. “Oh, very bad. Apparently, you've brainwashed me with some sort of satanic magic to overthrow the monarchy. Either that, or this is a slandering campaign against you, involving a carefully picked doppelganger and-” 

“Steve,” Eddie groans. 

Steve finally lowers the phone, putting it down on the small side table sitting between them and folding his hands in his lap. 

“Eddie,” he says. 

Eddie winces. He knows this tone, this aloof, barely interested drawl. Knows the way Steve holds himself - spine straight, shoulders slightly pulled back, chin up. Eyes so much dimmer than what he's used to. Distant and detached.

This isn't Steve. It's Prince Steven. 

Eddie hoped he'd never have to see the fucker again. 

There's a pile of documents lying on the stupid, fancy side table, right next to the phone. Eddie squints at them, catching the royal sigil at the top, the words non-disclosure agreement below, and his stomach fills with lead. When he manages to speak, his voice sounds hollow in his ears.

“So this is it, huh?” 

Steve sighs. “Father would've loved to speak to you personally.”

The heavy, molten thing in Eddie’s guts twists. 

“Would he now?” he grits out, trying to match Steve’s bored tone and knowing he's failing. Unlike some people, he hasn't been drilled into burying his feelings under a layer of ice all his life. 

Steve nods.

“He had more important things to attend to, though” he says. “Instead, he told me to have you sign this.” 

“Did he now?” Eddie says. It comes out hollow, words snagging in a too-dry throat. 

Steve picks up the documents, leafing through the smooth, white pages. Even the fucking paper is fancy in this place.

“He's instructed our PR team to get me a watertight alibi for the night of the concert. Said we'd deny any acquaintance with you. Forbid you from ever so much as speaking my name in public. I told him to go fuck himself.” 

“Did you no- … Wait, what?” 

Eddie snaps his head up just in time to see how Steve tosses the papers into the fire. The rage on that pretty face is pure, unbridled and undisguised, and Eddie’s heart tugs painfully in his chest. 

“I'm not gonna put a muzzle on you. You can damn well say whatever you want about me. I trust you, and that won't change. Not even if you don't want to continue this-” 

“Woah, woah, wait,” Eddie blurts. “Hold on a sec. You think I'm breaking up with you?” 

Steve blinks at him. “Um, yes? Are you not?”

Eddie can't stop the laugh that bubbles out of him. The weight that has been tearing at his insides ever since the damn photo dropped is gone. He feels like he needs to tether himself to something or he'll float off towards the ugly painted ceiling with the chubby, winged babies. 

“No, you stupid dickhead,” he says, and finally, finally takes Steve's hand in his. “I thought you were breaking up with me.” 

Steve gapes at him. “Why would I- … I'd never do that!” 

“Well, good,” Eddie says. “Cause neither would I.” 

Steve chews on his bottom lip, hope and doubt warring in those lovely eyes of his. 

“I don't think you understand what's at stake here,” he mutters. “If we make this public, it'll be the greatest scandal this country has seen in decades. The press will be all over us, your fans will hate you, my family will tell you to give up your career, they'll-” 

“Honey,” Eddie interrupts him, not bothering to hide the grin that's threatening to split his face in half. “If there's two things you should know about me by now, it's these. One, I'm terrible at taking instructions. And two, I don't give a rat's ass about what anyone thinks about me.” 

Steve's eyes are large and round behind his glasses, but Eddie imagines the hope is winning over the doubt. 

“I wanna be with you,” he says, squeezing Steve’s fingers a little tighter. “And to be frank, I think the system could do with a good shaking-up. Don't you agree?” 

Steve snorts a reluctant laugh, and his entire face lights up with it. “You can say that again.” 

Eddie thinks he's never seen anything as beautiful as Steve’s smile as he slowly lifts their entwined hands to his lips. 

“If it's a scandal they want,” he murmurs, holding Steve's gaze and pressing a long, lingering kiss to his knuckles, “I say let's give them a scandal to remember.” 

[justatypicalwizard]

⋰★ Scrolls shelf ★⋱

✒ MASTERLIST (works: newest to oldest. older works may be of less quality) ★⋱

Jack-in-the-box

2k24 Halloween event For the upcoming month of October I wish to invite you to my small event. Pick a secret box and open a story dedicated to you.

Weave your own web my prince

BNHA royal au x reader Another marital season bears down Katsuki's shoulders. His mother tortures him with a new guard - one that will follow each and every step the prince takes. Soon Katsuki decides, it's time to act on his responsibilities and decides his target will be the guard. Tons of royals flush the corridors of the Bakugo castle, among others Shoto - the Todoroki prince on the make. What will come out of their rivalry? Will Katsuki be able to break out of his mothers web of plans and schemes? Will he be able to claim what he desires or will it run through his fingers? Word count: 16k Warnings: semi-smut

Until the end of the night

masterlist

College!au, characters in early twenties, support!reader, slight angst to happy ending. After over three years abroad you come back to continue your education. Despite gaining new friends and living a great life in Europe nothing feels better than home. You are quickly sucked in the everyday drama and everything would be just as you left it if not for Bakugo. Three years ago you two shared a moment, a short and meaningful moment that no one knows or should know about. That is until the situation gets out of control. Word count: estimated 10-15k Warnings: smut

A scrap from your book

Bakugo x reader, aged up, college! au, quirks don't matter, no warnings, just heartwarming Word count: small

Dream eater

Slight angst. Bakugo is an eternal living dream eater. Slight self ship when it comes to the readers character. Inspired by a Webtoon series which I strongly reccomend: Eaternal Nocturnal Word count: 2,7k

Late night frustration

Bnha characters have their quirks but they are all secret heroes living a doubble-life. Katsuki has a had crush on you but instead of asking you out on a date he's stuck listening to you fangirling over Red Riot. Out of frustration he decided to do something very stupid. Word count: 2,5k

Wants Within

Read here (ao3)

Sanemi Shinazugawa x femReader!, college au Synopsis: You're a college student taking classes with a very strict lecturer- professor Shinazugawa. Because of an unfortunate even you got on his bad side so now you're trying everything to regain in his eyes. Well, you most certainely didn't expect that kind of attention. Multi chapter, long work

Rough and New

Read here (ao3)

mer!Bakugo, fem!reader, adult reader, smut(ish) content. You meet a new and interesting creature that seems to share your curiosity. Both of you have motives to your actions that turn out to be vastly different.

Imagine

Short stories, not connected, just thoughts. [Virgin Bakugo who's angry yet starving] [Bakugo who eats you out because he lost a bet] [Katsuki doesn't believe in love at first sight] [Giyuu is in love with you but you had to marry Sanemi]

Uquiz

A Queen Born

Barbarian king! Bakugo x damsel! reader The Barbarian King Bakugo is hunting for a wife. You have a week to get his attention and win over the position of a queen. Will you succeed when the king decides to lay a closer eye on you? Do not crumble, you are a woman in a dangerous world. Are you a queen born?

⋰★ 22 ★ she/her ★⋱

[astro-rain]

delicate; b.barnes

chapter fifteen - “but she couldn’t”

delicate masterlist

word count: 2.3k

synopsis: bucky and y/n have their first therapy session after what happened a few days prior... things happen.

pairings: bucky x fem!reader

He wrung his hands outside the door, nervous for what was to come. Bucky came alone now, no royal Wakandan guard to escort him. He had graduated past that precaution, with the help of Y/N's insistence. She was always advocating for him.

Ahead of him was the first therapy session after that night with the bonfire and then the leaning and then the pinky promise and—

He was anxious... to see her. To say the least. He wanted this to work, wanted his idea, their agreement to work. He wanted this to work because he didn't know what he was more afraid of: seeing her again or never seeing her again.

Frankly, he didn't care what their "professional boundaries" were. He just liked to be around her. Personal. Professional. It didn't really matter to him. He didn't care whether they sat across from each other on the therapy couches or if they were closer. Sitting on the floor... leaning...

Again, he didn't care. It was Y/N's worries that worried him.

Just go, idiot.

He knocked.

"Come in!"

Bucky was careful when he opened the door, almost as if he was trying not to frighten a timid animal. Her face was carrying a lot. Behind her eyes was an abundance of thoughts, worries, feelings, and more. He wasn't sure how he knew... he just did. He knew her.

He silently made his way to his couch, his side of the room. He felt so separate.

"Good morning," her voice was flat and controlled. Her tone was friendly and light, but still controlled; he could tell.

"Mornin,'" was all he said. He was apprehensive to interrupt what was so far in tact.

"Can I just start by apologizing for how I spoke to you the other day. About your arm and everything else. I was out of line. I'm really sorry."

"It's alright," he breathed, looking up at her. Yep, a lot of thoughts in there. "You weren't exactly wrong..."

"Doesn't mean it wasn't rude."

"I've already forgiven you... like two seconds after it happened. Don't worry about it."

Her eyebrows creased, face contorting into clear concern. "If it upset you, you can tell me. I don't want to let anything fester... please."

"I guess I have issues with the arm, but... not with you."

"Do you want to talk about that?"

Bucky exhaled. "What else are we here for, right?"

She gave him an encouraging look, as if to say go on. He got the hint.

"I just feel sort of incomplete. Having one arm is... strange. And I guess I never had to deal with it before, because Hydra gave me the cybernetic arm... Well more like attached it to me. It's not like I had a say."

"You lost your arm back on that train in the forties, and you never really got a chance to cope with that loss. It's a huge change for your body and mind to get used to, and it's completely understandable that you're having trouble with it."

"My body feels so off now. Everything I do I have to do differently, and it just makes it all so difficult."

"Are there things we need to fix for accessibility? I can talk to Shuri and-"

"No, it's fine," he was quick to deny any assistance. "I don't wanna complain."

"It's not complaining, Buck. If you need help, it's okay-"

"I don't want help. Everyone's always helpin' me. I don't need to ask for more."

"Bucky..."

"It's fine, I just... need to suck it up and deal."

"There's no reason to 'suck it up' when it's a problem that can be fixed," she offered.

His voice sunk to a whisper, guilt withering his confidence. "I'm sick of being everyone's problem."

Did he just say that? He wasn't sure he meant to. His feelings sort of leak out when he talks to her. Like it's easy. Like it's safe.

- - -

READER

She could feel her heart nearly rupture at his words and the broken cadence in his voice. She wanted to leap out of her seat, pull him close, and hold him until all the pieces stuck back into place. But she couldn't.

Oh, Bucky, she sighed sorrowfully in her head. She wanted to cup his face and tell him how he most definitely was not a problem. How he was wonderful and patient and trusting and kind and a thousand other things she never was. But she couldn't. It hurt to not be able to comfort him the way she felt she needed to do.

Instead, she took a deep breath, and said what she was supposed to say.

"That's a really hard thing to have on your mind, Bucky. I'm sorry. But I can promise you that we really are here to help you. And we want to. I'm not going to tell you what you can and can't feel, but please know that me or Shuri or anyone else - we don't think you're a problem."

He looked down at his hands, avoiding eye contact and mumbling, "Thank you."

He didn't seem convinced. Her chest tightened. She wanted to do more. But she couldn't.

"I flew all the way from Europe to come help you. And I mean, I didn't know you then, but looking back now, I'm damn well glad I did."

"Yeah, but now you're away from home on another continent because of me."

"Bucky, I chose to come here. No one made me."

He put a hand on his forehead, fingers rubbing at his temples in tired frustration. Like he had been bullied by these thoughts for a while now. There had clearly been a lot going on with him that he hadn't told her. A part of her wanted to admonish him. She wanted to scold him for not letting her help. For not letting her erase any and all bad feelings.

"I can't-..." he sighed, voice helpless. "I can't even cut my own hair..."

She closed her eyes, feeling the pain radiating off of him.

"... can't even make myself feel human."

Y/N moved before she could think the better of it. She was in front of him before she even registered the movement. It was automatic, involuntary. Her body just had to get to him. Make it better. Make the hurt go away. Like a reflex. She felt chemicals with him; he was an instinct.

She knelt in front of his feet, looking up at his sitting figure still on the couch.

"Give me your hand."

He stared down at her, confused. "What?"

"Reach your arm out."

Reluctantly he obeyed.

Slowly, softly, delicately, she smoothed her hand over his and up his forearm. Starting at his fingers, moving over the center of his palm, and gliding up his wrist to then pivot her hand so that her fingers were on the underside of his forearm and her thumb settled a tender touch on his pulse point. (the gif!)

She tried to transfer every ounce of compassion into her touch in an attempt to fade his distress, his guilt, his pain. A physical way of expressing that, yes, someone did care about him. So, so deeply. Even if he didn't see it.

She exerted a slight amount of force on her thumb so that he could feel the pressure of his pulse.

"You feel that?"

He nodded.

"That's your heart beating. How profoundly human."

Then she splayed her hand over the top of his forearm.

"You feel the coolness in my hand?"

Again, he nodded.

"That's your body heat. How beautifully human."

Still with a hand on his skin, she moved up to sit next to him. She brought his hand up to his chest, pressing it flat up against the center of his rib cage and holding her hand on top.

"Can you feel that?"

"Mhm."

"That's your heart. That's you. You're all heart, Buck. You're so deeply, wonderfully human. All the way to your bones."

She looked into his eyes then, and he bore into her in a way she's only seen one or two times before. Their hands remained against each other, over his heart, when he spoke.

"I don't deserve this... deserve you..."

There was no hesitation. "You deserve everything good and then some."

She rubbed her thumb softly on the back on his hand, hoping to communicate the sentiment as lovingly as she could. She wanted him to know that he mattered.

"Even though I took you away from your home and your work and everything else... all for my stupid screwed up head."

"I don't... really have a home to go back to," she confessed. "Like, yes, I had a place to live, but.. not a home."

He almost chuckled. "Neither do I."

Maybe sometimes home was a person.

"You have people, though. Which is good. You know, Steve, Sam."

"You." His voice was soft.

It made her lungs almost contract. She could've sworn her cells began to heat up. God, she felt so much. Such strong ardency. You have me, she thought. Until every last star in the galaxy dies. You have me. She wanted to say that. But she couldn't.

"Right. And I have you," she offered, trying to reciprocate the sentiment without pouring out the adoration that was in her head.

He stared at her, dead in the face like he was looking into her soul. With his entire chest he whispered like it was the only truth he'd ever known. "You have me."

His eyes were blue and his face was kind and then the back of her head felt warm like someone's hand was on it. His voice was soft and his heart was beating and then every nerve in her body ignited into flames because his lips were on hers. His lips were on hers and any semblance of control she might've had left burned up as she burned for him.

Slow and heavy, she melted into him. Parts of her found parts of him. Fingers softly curled at the nape of his neck, palm pressed up against his chest and feeling his heartbeat. On Bucky's chest, her hand was where his previously was. But now, his hand was cupping the back of her head and it was dizzying.

He tasted like rumination and benevolence and thank you. She moved her lips as if to pull out every inch of sorrow and grief and heartache and say I'm sorry. Sorry for all the things that happened to him that weren't good and gentle. For every hand that had hurt him; for all the hands that had touched him that weren't hers. But she couldn't. Oh god, she couldn't. What was she doing?

She pulled her head away even though it felt like a gravitational pull as strong as the sun's was keeping her there. In response to her movements, Bucky leaned back too. He removed his hand and suddenly she felt cold. No, she felt frozen. How could this happen? This wasn't supposed to happen.

"I-I," she stammered, having no idea what to say. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be."

She looked away from him, eyes anywhere but his. She stared to the side of the room.

"No, I-... I can't- we can't... this is-"

"I kissed you."

She avoided whatever that was the same way she avoided his gaze.

"This is transference," she declared, not even dignifying what he said.

"Huh?"

"Transference, it's- it's when a patient's feelings from something or someone else get redirected and projected towards their therapist. That's... that's what's happening here."

"It is?"

He didn't seem very convinced.

"Yes. It happens sometimes, it's not anyone's- ... it's okay."

"This is okay?"

"No!" she caught her breath. "No. The... action is not okay, but the fact that it happened isn't something to be faulted. It's not unheard of; it's a common phenomenon in therapy, so..."

She could feel him looking at her. She wished he'd stop. She felt like she might faint. Her lips were numb.

"So..."

"So, it just can't happen again. Okay? No one's in trouble. Let's just... be aware of the possible consequences of transference and make sure it doesn't happen again."

"Y/N..."

She thought there might've been a slight inflection of fear in his voice.

"Yes?"

"Look at me... please."

She sighed and turned her head. Fuck. She wished she'd drown.

"Does this mean you're leaving?... or not leaving for that matter?"

His eyes were pleading, vulnerable, and scared. If she was honest, she wasn't sure she could leave him if she tried. In fact, a tiny repressed part of her mind wanted to stay with him forever. But she couldn't.

She reminded herself why she was here, and why they needed boundaries. But when reasoning with her inner logician, she wasn't sure leaving would even be the best option. It's not like Bucky needed more disruption in his life. He needed some sort of constant, something reliable and trustworthy. At least that's what Y/N told herself as she realized that if she left him with that look in his eye, she could never forgive herself.

"No, I don't... I don't have to leave. As long as we make sure that doesn't happen again."

Relief visibly flooded his face. "Okay... okay, good."

Seeing his worry wane was alleviating. Though, she wished she could do more. She wished his hand was still on the back of her head, and her hand was still on his chest. She wished she could rewind back to that moment and just sit within it for a bit longer.

But she couldn't.

delicate taglist: @bakugouswh0r3 @thefridgeismybestie @strivingforelegance @ilovespideyyy @xpurpleglitter @bluelakeee @darkacademic2 @nickkie1129 @eclipsedplanet @paradisedixon @crazy-beautiful @coffee--writes @lauxrens @lilithknight1111 @buckybarnesishot310 @softladyhours @alwayssandy @quxxnxfhxll @those-sea-green-eyes @hero-ically @devilswaldorf @cc13723things @maravderofthephoenix @avengersgirllorianna @cataves @thatbitchsposts @talktomeaboutthestars

[clansayeed]

Bound by Destiny II, part 2 ― Chapter 9: The Arrival

PAIRING: Kamilah Sayeed x MC (Nadya Al Jamil) RATING: Mature

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Destiny II, part 2 ⥽

They fled New York with one purpose. Find, hunt down, and return with a way to kill a vampire god. They abandoned their loved ones and survived the City of Shadows; had their trust broken and darkest secrets brought to light. All that... and Gaius still won anyway. But now that they have nothing to lose, Nadya and her friends are finally ready to do whatever it takes to see the King of Vampires overthrown.

They just have to avoid a vampire population eager to gain favor with their new monarch, the ruthless Order of the Dawn, and whatever plans Gaius has that involve Nadya captured and brought to him alive. So... easy-peasy, right? The worlds of both dark and light hang in the balance. The time has come for the Bloodkeeper to embrace her destiny. So if anyone wants to clue her in on whatever that means, now would be great!

Bound by Destiny II and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing reimagining project of the Bloodbound series and spin-off Nightbound. Find out more [HERE].

TAG LIST: @googlesentmehere​, @cess02​, @hellyeah90sbaby​, @tayab12​, @saratustra4​, @imnotdonewiththeelementalists​, @thepotatobleh​,

*join the Tag List here!

⥼ Summary ⥽

It's the night of Vlad's masquerade ball, the most prestigious social event a vampire can attend. An entire ballroom full of faces and names every vampire in Europe knows... and apparently Nadya is going to upstage them all.

content warnings: language

[READ IT ON AO3]

A pretty big chunk of their plan relies on the staff of the Tepes Estate being just as snobbish and uppity as the man they serve.

So thankfully at least something is both easily predictable and surprisingly convenient.

Staff all around, and none of them pay the pair of them much mind. Beyond the fact that they get told by more than one footman that “guests really shouldn’t be back in the staff corridors” and receive multiple warnings about how “the Count has ensured all guests for the evening, (said while looking down the biggest snooty nose in all of Prague no less) no matter their prestige, will receive adequate time to sup on the serving staff,” and that they “really shouldn’t be allowing an undisclosed human on the premises but will look the other way this time,” Nadya and Cadence are pretty much left to their own devices.

Which means scurrying out of sight before any lone particularly loyal member of the Tepes household decides to go narc and everything ends up exploding in their faces anyway.

Because there’s no way on earth these full-face masques of theirs are providing any damage cover should their plans go KABOOM!

Nadya casts another look up at Cadence as they come across their umpteenth fork in the road. Watching him decide between right or left is starting to feel as nerve-wracking as actually choosing which direction they ought to go.

“You’re sure you know where we are?” You’re sure you know we’re going the right way?

“I’m starting to feel like you have less than zero faith in me, Nadya.” He probably thinks the glance down her way is a reassuring one. But the masque over his face is almost too neutral. It’s just a mask but it feels like it’s trying too hard, you know?

“That’s not it at all. This place is just…” A lot.

He barely remembers to reach back and take her by the hand before he chooses left in a hurry. Who knows how much time they’ve wasted just trying to find their way through this seemingly endless castle.

“It takes me a moment to recall the map Serafine showed me before we left, but I’m… ninety percent sure I know exactly where we are.”

“And the other ten percent?”

“Is trying to keep an ear out for party noises. So if you’ll zip it, thank you.”

Admittedly Nadya would have a lot more faith in this plan if it wasn’t just the pair of them, proven stumbling disasters that they are, relying on the apparently flawless memory of a man who literally introduces himself as ‘the one with amnesia.’ She understands the rationale behind it, just as she understands the rationale behind everybody else going through the front door like an entourage of normal party-goers. They have three prestigious faces and what Jax and Lily lack in clout they make up for in being practically invisible as nobodies to this upper echelon of attendees.

But shoving the two bigwigs of their gang — well, the most recognizable face in any room of vampires and the obviously human girl losing her freakin’ mind amid a cluster of the heartbeat-less undead — through the staff entrance with nothing more than simple masks to disguise them and trusting them not to mess up finding their way among the rest in time for some famed big reveal they still don’t know the full-on details of…?

Well if they live through this long enough to chronicle this part of their journey, nobody is ever allowed to even so much as imply via metaphor that Nadya never trusted her friends wholly and completely.

Actually if they’re talking about chronicling stuff, better they leave these more vague and improvised parts of their master quest to the footnotes. That way they can pretend they knew what they were doing the whole time.

For example Nadya isn’t gonna let anyone write down that she got so wrapped up in her thoughts about what may or may not get written down that she walked face-first into a brick wall.

OW.

Not a brick wall, actually.

Cadence turns around and catches Nadya’s mask just before it falls and shatters on the ground. Thank you vampire super-speed.

“Are you okay?” He asks, wide-eyed and worried, hesitant to give her back her disguise to take stock of how she really looks.

That’s such a loaded question though, so Nadya ignores it and rubs the redness on her forehead instead.

“Why’d you stop?”

The vampire takes a moment to look up and down either end of the corridor and even around the next corner. When he’s satisfied they’re alone he pries his own mask off with a groan; practically peeling his flattened hair from where its been stuck to his forehead the moment he put the darn thing on.

“Because,” with pursed lips he blows his fringe out of his eyes, “I’ve been talking this entire time… and even when I ramble you usually have some two cents or other to pitch in.”

That’s fair. Nadya takes back her mask with a sheepish shrug. “Sorry, got distracted.”

“That much is obvious. Care to share?”

“Not really. Care to keep going?” Not like they’re exactly full of free time, here.

He sweeps his arm in an after you motion, but keeps pace with Nadya’s shorter stride. “I can hear the string quartet by now. We’re close, but they haven’t begun the announcements Serafine told me to wait for.” So maybe they have a bit of free time. Got it.

Only now she can’t stop thinking about what will be on the other side of the big grand ballroom doors.

And Nadya without her set of note cards to at least help her through her dumb speech all because her dumb dress has no dumb pockets.

“You know I still don’t get why they wouldn’t budge about you not being discovered.”

“You don’t see me complaining,” Cadence says with a shrug; and actually now that he points it out…

“No, I don’t.”

He doesn’t need to look at her to know exactly why she says it that way, either. It’s not the first time they’ve had this talk. Probably won’t be the last either.

His sigh sags from his shoulders to his fingertips. “‘Surprise warmonger back from the dead’ might accidentally eclipse ‘reincarnation of the vampire Goddess.’ Can’t have that, now can we.”

“Cadence.”

“Nadya.”

They turn another corner in complete silence. Nadya’s ears strain to hear this quartet of his but nope, not close enough for her poor human ears quite yet.

Finally Cadence seems to decide on something. Gathering himself up all the way to his full height while fiddling with the porcelain in his grasp. “Actually… Serafine and Kamilah gave me the option. When they talked about prestige all this week it was largely assuming I might be able to pretend just enough to add to their collective fame. But they gave me the choice as to whether or not I wanted to try.”

“And you said no.”

“Of course I said no. I don’t envy you, Nadya. You have to do this regardless of whether or not you want to. But for the first time it feels like I’m not in that position, and I want to take full advantage of it.”

His face falls, voice going somber. “Surely you can see why.”

She can. She did, in the flesh, and while he’d been useful at the time she can still close her eyes and remember how easily Cynbel had threatened Jax, hurt Adrian and Serafine; how callous he’d been with her life even though she’d agreed with him at the time… Not to mention all the implied things that come with Serafine, always calm and cool and collected, losing her freakin’ marbles every time he ended up a part of the conversation.

He continues. “I don’t think I could have pretended to be him if my life depended on it. And if you think about it, your life does depend on it in a way. I couldn’t risk you like that. Not after how kind you’ve been to me.”

Her fingers brush over his arm. Cadence either takes it the wrong way or chooses to give a purpose to something so small; he bends his elbow and lets her arm slide into his like a proper escort to a proper ball.

“A lot of people’s lives depend on me pretending to…” Nadya can’t quite say it though, so she swallows it down. “I just have no idea what I’m supposed to do when we get there.”

“Understandably.”

“Seriously,” offering him a wry and dry smile, “that’s all the advice you’ve got?”

He mulls it over for a good and proper think. The effort is more than appreciated even if it doesn’t actually yield results. At least this way she gets to vent it out before messing up royally when the time comes.

Cadence stops first — their linked arms jerk her back and to turn and face him. “I wouldn’t call it advice, per se,” gee—great, “but maybe we both suck at pretending because we ought to be accepting, instead. Accepting who we… were. Possibly, in your case. That way we still have the chance to move on.”

It’s a sweet sentiment, but Nadya can’t help the way her nose scrunches up slightly.

“I don’t think that applies to this case, Cade.”

“Fair enough. Can’t say I didn’t try.” And that makes the pair of them laugh, no matter how weakly. Something neither of them knew they needed, nor how badly they needed it.

It doesn’t last long… but it doesn’t need to.

“You’ll figure it out when the time comes Nadya. You usually do.”

Usually.

In wordless agreement she and Cadence don their pretend masques with mutual reluctance. At least he doesn’t have to breathe in his. But it’s easier this time to see what his face really says beneath that neutral doll-like expression.

She smiles at him in return. Like many things these days they can’t quite see it, but the feeling is there.

When they get close enough that Nadya’s ears no longer strain to catch the occasional tittering laughter or melodramatic voice, Cadence diverts them yet again. This time for a staircase he just so happens to catch sight of out of the corner of his eye.

He keeps her close; closer than before. Practically hovering over her like a shadow less than a step behind her the whole way up. She pauses when he pauses, she waits when he waits, and trusts him enough to know her faith isn’t misplaced but some explanation would be swell any time he’s feeling his usual chatty self.

Crouched close to the ground (which is a feat for him, for her not so much) Cadence crooks a finger at Nadya to join him in inching steps along the carpet towards the railing overlooking the main foyer below.

Nadya is, understandably, hesitant. “What if someone sees us?” What if someone smells me, hears me, all-of-the-aboves me?

“Same principle as before.”

“Keep close and your blood will cover me up?”

He nods. Not like she really has any other choice. Well, that and the more snatches of conversation she plucks from thin air the more curious she is.

And when has her curiosity ever not won out?

Cadence’s cloak comes heavy around her other shoulder and all but smothers her. She grabs the edge and pulls it tight while making sure not to jostle it from his shoulders. For some reason she can’t shake the feeling like she’s hiding behind a curtain with her feet sticking out underneath.

But they’re here, so they might as well take advantage of it. So Nadya joins him in peering through the stone balusters to the hustle and bustle happening below.

The foyer had been beautiful already during her visit with Serafine and Jax the other night — Nadya would even go so far as to assume it was nearly completed. That assumption would have been vastly incorrect.

It’s not her contacts; she’s not seeing double. Every bauble and ribbon and glittering glassy gem brought along the entire family. There’s practically no surface without something shiny added in some form or another, and in many cases that shiny thing has a shiny thing has a shiny thing of its own on top.

On their own the decorations probably look gaudy and too-much. But when you fill the room with graceful vampires all dolled up in unique fashions and splendors everything else is lost in the background. Tasteful would probably have ended up the equivalent of a fifty-buck Party Town Supply budget. So at least the Count knows his audience.

She should be looking for their friends… and she is. But Nadya tells herself it’s being a good and thorough secret agent to observe all the other guests along the way. Two birds and all that. But it’s not easy to just sweep her eyes over the assembled masses in search of a few key faces. Not when each masque is a face all its own.

You’d think there are only so many combinations of colors, designs, and styles to make before they start getting repetitive. But that couldn’t be farther from the case. She gets it now, seeing everything and everyone from way up high and afar like this. The importance of not just the masque itself, but having the right kind of masque above everything else.

Masquerade balls are about hiding and blending in; being just another face in the crowd.

Les Visages de la Gloire is the exact opposite. And even that feels like the most watered-down way to put it she can think of.

A gentle weight falls on Nadya’s back and she shudders a gasp. When had she stopped breathing? Not for fear of being caught, but at the beauty of it all that could only be described as—literally—breathtaking.

Faceless in their full face-coverings and headdresses each more ostentatious than the last; not important enough to show who they are but still in competition with each other — still with deeds to announce and reputations to uphold. Half-masks covering the left side, the right side, the top of one and the bottom of another and all of them made uniquely for a single soul and nobody else.

Some vampires have masques that match their costumes. Others clash in a way that can’t be anything other than on purpose. Even from a distance Nadya can see the difference between carefully crafted metalwork and porcelain painted with glossy lacquer; can compare wood carvings with rich varnish and contrast that with the vast rainbow of matte colors on terracotta. Most are adorned with embellishments and jewels heavy enough to make her neck hurt just by looking at them.

Nearly all take full advantage of the fact their wearers won’t end up suffocating on the other side.

And I’m supposed to show them all up without so much as a sheer ribbon over my eyes? Yeah, Nadya’s confidence takes a knife to the gut just thinking about it.

“Over there.”

Not like Cadence’s finger isn’t pointing down to a massive crowd or anything, but that’s exactly the point — forgive the pun.

Though they can’t quite see double doors leading inside the castle from the exterior from their hiding spot, the sudden hush that falls over the idle crowd offers up an equally dramatic entrance.

It’s the kind of arrival that would be filmed in slow-motion. The kind that pans up from the purposeful echo of each expensive step; dragging over the exquisite details of their costumes in one long smooth glide all the way to the big reveal. And what a reveal it is.

Kamilah’s spindly masque may be made of steel but it curls over her sharp features with all the grace of a silken thread. It’s a face covering by only the thinnest margin of definition, with too many gaps in the framework to even pretend to conceal her identity. But after taking in the rest of the crowd… it’s obvious she’s the kind of face — the kind of presence — that simply can’t go unrecognized.

Everything about Kamilah, from her posture to her raised chin to her not-at-all-faked aura of superiority, demands recognition.

On the surface she’s the woman that Nadya knows; that she trusts and cares about so so much. But look beneath, something all too easy to do — like sweeping aside a mist, it’s impossible to miss how she’s so much more.

The Bloodqueen has arrived. And the entire foyer is speechless before her.

Without even moving a muscle the closest groups stagger back several more steps. Dozens of them nearly tripping over themselves and each other in their haste.

It’s no surprise that the space is quickly taken up by the two figures flanking Kamilah’s sides.

Serafine’s masque isn’t so much a mask as it is a scrap of lace just wide enough to earn the collective approval. As if anyone here doesn’t already know who she is regardless. But that’s how she can pull the look off if Nadya is remembering her explanation right.

No one would dare partake in Les Visages without knowing—without introduction—the woman who started it all.

Some final vestiges of their psychic connection tugs Nadya towards her; not physically so much as emotionally. Even without seeing Serafine’s features up close there’s a bittersweet ache in her chest that’s definitely not Nadya’s own.

The vampiress can offer up all the scarlet-lipped smiles she wishes. They are all hollow and fake. The simple act of being here causes Serafine nothing but distress.

And then there was Adrian.

Who, in comparison to Kamilah and Serafine, makes the women nearest him seem positively giddy and gleeful to be here tonight.

He wears his tailored costume perfectly; that wasn’t in doubt. It’s the masque that leaves him stony-faced. Gold rich and dark that catches every little flame on the chandelier over his head that covers his eyes but can’t hide the tension wracking his jaw.

He and Kamilah both wear near-identical rich crimson garnets inlaid just beneath their masque’s right eye. Shared stones for a shared Maker. But along his edges are thin metal spires, short but wicked sharp, that vary from the same gold, to steel, to a coppery hue.

A second glance confirms Nadya’s suspicions; Adrian isn’t the only one with those kinds of embellishments along the edges of their masques. Scouring a few of them from the crowd, the way they carry themselves and mirror Adrian’s ramrod-straight posture answers a question she didn’t know she needed to ask.

If the garnet labels him and Kamilah both as Turned by Gaius, then the spikes are the mark of the soldier. Any soldier; but one worth recognition for their service.

Which is everything Adrian doesn’t want. Everything he had worried over, and was working now towards overcoming in the wake of his past.

Nadya ducks her head hastily to catch her tear before it falls. Thankfully she’s quick enough. If only she could wipe away the reason for it just as easily.

Pull yourself together, girl, she scolds, and it’s just enough to do the trick and pull Nadya’s focus back to everything around them. All the stillness and nothingness and the way a room full of the undead hold their collective unnecessary breath waiting for what will happen next.

Which is exactly the kind of attention-grabbing showstopper the three of them are supposed to be. All eyes turned on the prestigious trio they are together, and away from Nadya and Cadence one floor above.

All focus on who they are, why they’ve come, what they will do; and away from the practically invisible dynamic duo that slips through the crowd towards the closed ballroom doors.

Behind her, Cadence lets out an impressed little “hah” when he finally manages to pick Lily and Jax out of the crowd. “I completely missed them. Did you see them sneak in?”

“No,” answers Nadya, but that’s actually a good thing. That was the whole point.

Without a word Kamilah takes one step forward. Her aura of command acts like an invisible shield that parts the rest; holding them at a respectable distance.

But the sudden shifting of the mass of faces and their masques gets dangerous when it turns right in their direction. If even one wandering eye looks up, they’re done for!

Without a word the vampire pulls Nadya backwards, letting the force of his bulk pull them out of eyesight in the nick of time. That was a little close, huh.

Nadya doesn’t get the chance to thank him though.

The moment she opens her mouth a loud echoing clang rings out below them, followed by the distinct shuffle of something heavy being dragged achingly close to the foyer’s marble floors.

Neither of them needs to risk sneaking a look.

Right on time. The ballroom doors have finally opened, allowing the first wave of prestige to spill forth out to the grand dance floor.

And though the shuffling of boots and sharp tapping of heels fills the vacuum of stunned silence as the attendees start to move, it’s not nearly enough noise to drown out the sudden and familiar exuberant laughter of delight that echoes across every polished surface below. The kind of laughter designed to be projected across adoring crowds; and carefully rehearsed to always seem full of intriguing promise.

What Nadya wouldn’t give to borrow a little of Vlad Tepes’ seemingly endless confidence for her own performance… looming ever-closer and starting to pick up real steam.

“Remember my lovelies! Faceless and no-names, see yourselves inside. New blood and the lucky virginal attendees right beside them!”

Her full-body shiver of discomfort is more than warranted. But Nadya only wishes she could be surprised at his… unsettling word choice.

“I’m suddenly very glad to be up here.”

She snorts at the wide-eyed stare looking out from Cadence’s mask. “You and me both.”

“Yes yes darling, oh you look a treat. And you there — you must tell me the story behind that engraving later, you simply must.” It’s really to their luck and benefit that the Count likes hearing himself talk so much. They can stay far away from the railing and still keep tabs on what gauge of prestige is next to be welcomed into the bal masqué proper.

They just have to wait until everyone—Vlad included—is inside. Everyone but the most prestigious of the lot of them. And when all eyes are (once again) on the Bloodqueen herself… they’ll have no choice but to witness Nadya’s arrival.

Having Kamilah by her side might just give her the kick in the metaphorical pants to do this thing. Not the literal though. There’s no way this practically bleach-white linen getup will survive a boot print, and especially not to the rear end.

Down below there’s a momentary lull; all but shattered by Vlad’s returning laughter now pitched higher than before.

“Why there you are, Serafine! Here I worried I had somehow lost track of your arrival in the excitement.”

His words are followed by two unmistakably wet noises; which Nadya prays are just over-dramatic kisses to her cheeks.

“Surely you jest,” she teases good-naturedly; said with all the humor of someone whose smile can’t possibly reach her eyes, “I see before me you follow the old traditions quite well. Showing the prestigious their due, their arrival witnessed by all who look to them in admiration.”

“Well of course! It makes for the grandest of entrances.”

“Ah, yes,” the elder vampiress croons, “and as the illustrious host yours would be the last, non?”

“Don’t worry darling — I would never claim credit for your centuries of contribution to our dwindling community.”

“Meaning?”

Somehow Nadya just knows Vlad throws his hair back unnecessarily as he laughs again.

“You can enter just before me, of course.”

“Then when, may I ask, might you suggest my blood-kin Adrian and I make our entrance known, old friend?”

Unlike Serafine, who at least pretends to smile while enduring the torture of his conversation, Kamilah’s question is cold and clipped. It rings with all the disinterest of the Kamilah that Nadya had met so long ago — and she’d place good money on the single raised eyebrow hiked high enough to be seen over her masque, too.

But if anyone could render Vlad speechless…

Nadya struggles to hear something, anything, until she catches the faint rustle of stiff and expensive fabric moving with haste. Vlad’s gesture of greeting, no doubt.

Just like she has no doubt that Kamilah and Adrian don’t humor him as long as Serafine has. It certainly explains the flustered, hasty way his next words tumble from his tongue with practically no filter.

“All the best surprises are the ones that sweep one off his feet. My humble gathering of our kind—nay, our family—from the nearest branch to the farthest root is made absolutely resplendent by the honor of your presence!

“Your Majesty, mon cherie —” —a beat, his attention likely shifting to Adrian— “— and Sergeant Adrian Raines, just when I had resigned myself to an evening of only the old and antiquated in renown. Here you stand before me, as handsome as the day we first met.”

Nadya quickly schools her bewildered expression — too long and it might get stuck that way. But that is flirtation if she’s ever heard it. Not good flirtation, but nevertheless.

“Vlad, as… lively… as ever.” Adrian just barely recovers, but now she’s dying to know what he had almost said instead. “Hard to believe it’s been nearly seventy-five years since last we met. Time… flies so quickly.”

“Oh pish posh,” replies the Count, “you wouldn’t know it but for the calendars. My memory of those chiseled features of yours obviously needed a refresh.”

He’s barely finished speaking when he gasps, clapping his hands together delightedly. “Speaking of memory! You’ll have to forgive my fright. As you all know surely, my recollection skills are of world-renown. Yet the sight of you all almost thrust me spiraling into self-doubt.

“And not without good reason! As I could have sworn you — the both of you, that is to say — had… cast aside your former titles.”

It’s just like before. Everything that pops into his head said without a filter all the way up until what he’s saying isn’t as vapid as it was at the start.

It must be so easy to write Vlad Tepes off at first glance. Just look at the public opinion of the guy. Nadya had, she’s humble enough to admit it. But the hard truth is that he is Vlad Tepes; he is Count Dracula.

But whether he’s all the things the myths and legends claim or not it can’t go ignored that he knows what he’s doing (even if it doesn’t seem like it). He knows how to play a crowd, how to stroke an ego. He’s a master of misdirection.

Has nobody pitched a Vegas residency to this guy yet? Seriously?

But if he thinks he’s going to out-wit someone like Kamilah he must have those leather pants on just a little too tight.

She doesn’t address his comment. Brushing it aside proves a much more important point.

“Shall Adrian and I wait patiently here while you and Serafine follow through, then?”

Vlad must be used to playing the ‘host with the most’ card, because he hesitates. But Kamilah wasn’t asking — she was just being polite.

“Yes,” he finally agrees, though surprisingly less strained than Nadya would have expected. “I would not dare nor dream of presuming your prestige. Nor would I separate the grand entrance of the progeny of our King.

“The three of you will have a most celebratory announcement, I give you my word.”

Did she hear that right?

Serafine offers a gentle tittering laugh. “I see no reason why you and I should not enter together, ma puce.”

“We shall.”

Vlad’s words die to the sound of heavy heels across the foyer floor. Too many steps to be one of her friends; but certainly more than enough for them to bring a person across the length of the room to where they are gathered.

Of course something is going wrong. They should have anticipated something going wrong. They had, her brain reminds her, and probably thinks its being helpful by doing so.

She dares to inch just close enough to catch a glimpse down below and spoiler alert — it isn’t helpful at all.

With his head held high, Marc Antony makes a bold statement in taking Kamilah’s hand without it being offered. Then he goes a step further with a half-bow and a kiss pressed to the back — or the ghost of one. He barely manages it before she yanks it from his grasp — in surprise, in anger, that’s not the part that matters.

With everyone fixated on the two oldest vampires in the room, Adrian dares to steal a glance of warning up to the railing. Wide-eyed and with pursed lips, the message when he gives the tiniest shake of his head is clear.

Nadya retreats, practically crab-walking backwards.

Cadence tries to help her sudden shaking panic with an arm over her shoulders. It’s the thought that counts.

“What,” he asks worriedly, “who is it?”

“Antony,” Nadya exhales, and the man goes rigid beside her. “It’s Marc Antony.”

[theoddcatlady]

My Friends Went On A Roadtrip Through Europe

The only reason I didn’t go on the ‘greatest trip of our lives’ was because I was in a car accident that nearly killed me.

It was bad. I wasn’t able to get out of bed without assistance for that first month. Broken leg, busted up ribs, I looked more like a boxer that just got out of a match gone bad than a recent highschool graduate who was planning on going to college as a psychology major.

My friends and I had been planning this trip since our freshman year in highschool. I know. It was fucking stupid. But we promised if we all graduated with a grade average of 3.5 or better and if we all scraped together the cash from after school/summer jobs, we’d take a road trip through Europe. Somehow we actually managed to do it, our parents were so impressed that they even kicked in some cash. The silly dreams of fourteen year olds were coming to life.

Whitney wanted to go to Paris and see the Eiffel Tower. Jade was all about Austria, she wanted to see where the Sound of Music was filmed. Jonah planned to eat all the chocolate he could stomach in Switzerland. Me? I wanted to see the countryside of every country- mountains, rivers, the ocean… But one week before the plane was supposed to take off, well, the accident happened.

I told my friends to go without me, but I made them promise to constantly send me updates and tell me how much fun they were having. So they left- Whitney, Jade, Jonah, Holden, and Tori. I even gave them a portion of the money I saved up so they could go crazy.

At first, everything was normal. I got pictures, they even sent me a package from England full of lil knick knacks and snacks. I hated the Irn Bru but the Cadbury chocolates were to DIE for. But everything went wrong shortly after Austria.

Below are the emails and messages my friends sent me when they had the time. These all take place over about three weeks. After that, everything goes silent. Their parents have yet to hear from them. They’ve filed missing person’s reports, but I think if any of them are still alive… they won’t want to be found.

From: Jade

Jesus CHRIST, you will not believe what happened last night, Lilah.

First off, let me make abundantly clear that no one is dead, and no the trip is not over yet. We got really lucky. Second off, Jonah is a fucking moron and I swear to god once his stitches are out I’m ripping him a new one.

Okay so last night we were out a bit late, we all got a little tipsy and we were heading back to the hotel. Legal drinking age is eighteen, it’s not like that time we tried to sneak into Beverly’s with those fake ID’s. On the way back, we stumbled across another drunk who made a pass at Jonah. And you know Jonah, his drunk ass reacted loudly and violently. I swear he was about to make a swing at the guy… but the other guy swung first.

I swear, the drunk guy fought like an animal, Jonah didn’t stand a chance. We barely managed to rip Jonah away from him before he ripped his throat out. It was bloody and MESSY.

We got Jonah to the nearest emergency room, got him patched up, headed back home to sleep it off. How much do you wanna bet that he won’t remember it in the morning?

I’m gonna hit the sack. Jonah is a moron.

From: Jonah

Jade told me she sent you an email about the fight. She really needs to chill, I’m really not that bad off. Besides, the guy was a creep.

I do remember what happened, despite what she thinks, we were heading back when, get this, strange guy complimented my SKIN. Said it looked smooth and rosy. That’s not even flirting anymore, that’s just creepy! I mean, he was totally your type, tall, dark, handsome, blue eyes and a bit of scruff on his face, but noooot mine.

I’m fine though, you can barely tell where the guy got me. I think he had a knife because I got ripped. Up. Can barely tell now, he must’ve just grazed me.

We’ll be looping back up and heading for Poland next. Gonna cross through Germany to do that, but I don’t mind the drive. Besides, Germany = MORE BEER.

Miss you, next time you will totally have to come along.

From: Tori

I really wish you were here. I miss you so, so much. How is your therapy going? I hope it’s going well, you really missed out on some beautiful views today. The camera doesn’t quite capture it, but I hope to paint it once I’m home with my supplies. Maybe I can bring a little of this place back to you.

I think I’m just homesick. I might cut my trip short and head back, I’m really worried about you.

From: Whitney

Did you talk Tori out of going home yet? I don’t think she’s willing to admit how spooked she got when that bum attacked Jonah. She started crying when she saw how bloodied he was. I was pretty freaked too, but it was way worse than it looked. He’s actually completely fine now. Stitches came out, there’s not even a scar. I’m pretty sure Jonah’s actually bummed there’s nothing to show off for when he gets home LOL. But yeah, nothing to worry about, he’s still the same energetic Jonah we all know and love.

Holden’s horrible at remembering to email you, I’ve told him like, six times. Did he do anything other than the one time he sent a what’s up? He totally only did that because I nagged him.

I wish we spent more time in Italy, but we’re making great time through Germany. I’m gonna go now, kick ass and take names at Overwatch for us when you can sit up, all right?

From: Tori

Jonah’s almost too over the top since the attack. I think he’s trying to make up for something, I don’t know what. It’s like… remember that time he pounded Mountain Dews all night while we were gaming? This was during our League of Legends phase (glad that ended) but Jonah was incredibly manic and he was constantly getting up to pace.

He’s like that but 24/7. I don’t think he’s slept a full night, and it’s almost impossible to make him stop for the night. We want to relax, there’s no rush to get to Poland. I’ll talk to him when I can get him to settle, see what’s wrong. Love you.

From: Jade

Welp, Tori went home last night.

Her clothes and passport are gone, she left a note saying she really missed you and her parents, she’ll make it up to us when we’re home. I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed she didn’t talk to us beforehand.

She was right though, Jonah needs a chill pill. Is this how some people deal with trauma? Because I mean, you weren’t there, but that was… pretty bad. I can’t even imagine how Jonah feels, but he’s Jonah. He never lets anyone in. It’s why you two broke up sophomore year, kid has issues. I hoped this trip through Europe might help him learn about himself but I think it’s making it worse.

From: Whitney

WE’RE IN DENMARK BECAUSE APPARENTLY JONAH DECIDED POLAND WAS A STUPID IDEA.

Ugh, sorry. So Jonah offered to drive us through the night. I said no, but Holden and Jade were all for it. So I sucked it up, took something to make me drowsy, and konked out in the back seat. When I woke up, Jonah and Jade were having a shouting match and turns out, we’re in DENMARK. That wasn’t the plan. He didn’t clear this with us.

Holden’s on his side, saying that Denmark is a cool country too but Jade’s royally pissed. I can’t blame her. We promised at the beginning of the trip that we were to clear any travel plans with each other. We’d talk about it.

That’s another reason to miss you- you are SO good at talking. <3

From: Jonah

Everyone but Holden’s pissed at me.

Listen, I’m fine, I promise. I’ve just had to deal with some insomnia lately, is that really that bad? It’s not like I’m as bad off as you were. There was a brief moment that morning of the accident we all thought we’d lose you.

The insomnia goes away in the day. I can sleep then. Everyone can go and have fun during the day, I get to sleep, and at night I go do my shit. There’s. Nothing. Wrong with that.

I mean, another reason I wish you were here was that I’ve been having some… preeettyyy interesting dreams involving you, when I can sleep anyway. TMI. But maybe I should’ve been less of a puss with you back in the day. I shouldn’t have pushed you away.

When I’m back, can we go on a date? I’ll buy. Anywhere you want to go.

From: Jade

Jonah made a pass at me. And he’s not drunk.

I’m confused. And worried. Not gonna lie, he was pretty smooth about it, but I’ve never thought of him that way. He’s like that obnoxious little brother you love anyway. I told him no and he accepted gracefully.

Talking with Whitney and he also made a move at him… and at Holden? Jesus Christ, it’s about time that dumbass fell out of the closet. Holden’s pretty into it though. I’m wondering if this trip was actually a success in that matter.

We’re going up through Scandinavia now. Sweden, here we come!

At least we’re in some of the most gay friendly countries in the world right now… although I swear to god I think someone’s been following us. I’ve spotted this small white car twice now and I think it’s the same driver. But I’m probably just paranoid.

From: Holden

i know i dont email you often. i hate writing.

but something’s really wrong with jonah. i think he hurt someone.

last night we went out for drinks. ive always thought jonah was cute but never thought hed give me the time of day. we shared a hotel room, nothing happened but it was nice.

but I woke up this morning and I was trying to find something to wear and I accidentally went through one of jonah’s bags because our bags look the same and

i found one of his shirts. it’s covered in blood. And I found tori’s passport. it’s also bloody.

i’ve been reading and there’s been two bodies on the same route we’ve been going. i also called tori’s mom and she hasn’t heard anything from her daughter. she hasnt gone home. what should I do lilah? you were always the smart one.

From: Jade

Jonah’s lost his goddamn mind.

I’m surprised I get signal out in the middle of nowhere but Holden asked him about Tori and Jonah got really defensive. Then he brought up clothes covered in blood and that Tori never made it home and… Jonah snapped.

He pulled over to the side of the road and lunged for Holden. Whitney tried to break it up and got pretty fucked up for it. They’ll be okay as soon as we get to a hospital or something.

He’s gone now. He took the keys with him. I’m gonna try and call for help but jesus christ how have things gone so wrong?

From: Jonah

(This email was sent to all of us, along with the next one.)

I’m with Master now. He never meant for this to happen. He never meant for me to get turned. He tried to find me but my own stupidity kept us going… I’m so mad at myself. I should’ve told you guys what’s been going on. I’ve been barely sleeping, any sort of bright light fucking hurts, and Tori…

I never meant to hurt Tori. I swear to god. She was one of my best friends. But she’s dead. And I killed her. I couldn’t stop myself. By the time I came to my senses, I’d shredded her to pieces. If they ever find where I dumped her, she’ll probably be a Jane Doe for the rest of time.

Master found me running around around and stopped me. We’re someplace safe now. He’ll help me.

But I need to know one thing-

Did I bite you guys?

From: Whitney

You bit me. And you bit Holden.

Jade’s fine. For now. I don’t know how long though. I feel strange. Like there’s something burning in my head and down my spine. Please find us. Holden’s starting to feel strange too.

Lilah, we love you so much.

Please, don’t try to come find us. Go to college. Have fun. Make new friends. Study hard. Forget about us.

We’re dead anyway.

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

The King of Hearts (E.D. AU)

Summary: What happens when a future king falls for a commoner while he’s betrothed to another?

Warnings: mostly fluff, mentions of death and blood

Word count: 4000

Series MASTERLIST 

In a country now surrounded by ice, far away, stood an old, black castle, a stark contrast to its surroundings. Inside the castle, the royal family presides, waiting out the harsh winter and the cold it brought.

The Dolan family.

They ruled over their country with a firm, but fair hand, holding their position for centuries. A picture perfect family, no scandals recorded since the start of their reign.

Well, that was about to change.

Holding a feast to celebrate the arrival of their guests, King held a grand dinner in the castle, inviting everyone to attend, even his servants and commoners.

Princes sat around the table, joking around like they always do, bickering about who would win if they truly crossed their swords together, but hoping to never truly find out.

I stood in the shadows, holding on to my new, almost royal looking dress. Saving up for years to buy material for something proper in hopes of attending a ball and seeing the royals just once in my life. I've worked with my mother as a seamstress for years before she died, and the dress I wore was of my own making.

The color purple to signify my support of the royal house, but a waistline as white as snow that kept the winter present since as long as I can remember. The neckline was low, but not as low as many ladies wore...after all, I had my dignity in mind and virtue to keep. My hair let loose with curls cascading down my back, a single braid serving as a mock crown, beads and violets bred in the royal garden decorating it. Light make up to keep up the pretense, but an intense, burgundy red lipstick for effect. Feet in white flats, shimmering as my dress in the light, I looked almost like a highborn, worthy to be in their presence.

Gliding my gaze over the crowd of town folk, my eyes remained on the table before us, a little above the rest to show their stature. After all, they weren't commoners and should not sit among us. Most looked to the King and Queen, wanting to get in their favor. Young men looked at Cameron, all wishing to be her chosen one. However, she was to be married off to a wealthy Lord in Europe, a union good for the realm.

But every girl, young or old, had eyes only for the princes. Twins as luck would have it. Girls swooned over their good looks, fought to be in their line of sight, even went as far as pulling their dresses down so much that their breasts were almost visible. All that just for one look in their direction. They didn't care which one, as they'd say: „They're the same anyways. Just get me one.“

How foolish of them.

When I looked at the twins, I did not see just one person. Sitting on the left side, by their father, both brothers seemed to be far more interested in holding a conversation with one another than to look at desperate girls flinging themselves at their feet.

Prince Grayson held his head high as he was happily betrothed to a Princess of a country a little down south called England. After all, they sang songs of her beauty, but more importantly of the power and wealth her family held. He didn't spare the crowd a single glance, his dark brown eyes set either on the food or his family. His hair was longer, bangs styled backwards so they stood tall as he did. Sharp jaw, a couple of small scars graced his face, but he bore nothing that could disgrace his beauty. He truly was as handsome as I've heard in the tales.

Next to him was Prince Ethan; the next king of our realm, the heir to the throne. His eyes bore tension only a future king could bear, thousands worries etched in each line of his gorgeous face. His smile small, but always present, never quite reaching his eyes when he interacted with other noble men and women. It was a pleasantry, one he didn't care much for from what I could tell. His hair was neatly combed, differing from what I've been told by those who have seen him outside of official events for the kingdom. They said his hair is unruly and wild, just as his spirit. Perhaps that was true once, but the man sat at the table now felt weighed down by the future he was to have. That's enough to make anyone mature in a matter of moments.

Like his brother, Ethan was also to wed a Princess, the heir of the French throne. That meant either peace or war for the Dolan twins, regarding the wretched past between the two countries they were meant to inherit by marriage. It was hard to imagine the brothers ever doing harm to one another, but power is fickle and turns the best of men corrupt and wile.

Aware this night would be a bust as everyone danced and had fun, I couldn't keep my eyes from the heir. Not just because of his good looks, but because in a way, I felt sorry for him. He was forced to live a life he never wanted; they told him what to wear, what to eat, how to behave...who to love...He could never truly make a choice for himself, follow his heart. To live that sort of a life must have been torture...One he learned to accept and live with.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed a ruckus. Two armed guards unsheathing their swords as several men decided to play hero and assassinate the royal family. Some screamed, most ran, leaving the sight clear for all those who wondered what was happening.

I didn't move, even as the fight was brought to me. Men fighting, men dying before me, yet I dare not move. No, I was not afraid. I was furious. Once in every ten years, commoners were allowed at court, yet these imbeciles decided to ruin that and get us banned...and for what? A failed attempt to kill those who have ruled over us and brought prosperity even in the winter we were forced to live in. Better yet, I was ready to protect those people as well.

Reaching under my skirts, I grabbed a dagger from a belt suspender made out of purple lace. Shifting in my spot, I had seen a sword fall to the floor with a loud clank. Taking it, I ran it into one of the rebels stomach, blood spluttering from his lips onto my neck. But I didn't mind. Turning swiftly, I took care of yet one more who had planned on sneaking behind a guard and slitting his throat. Two men down, my hands dripping with blood, dress stained beyond help, I stood in the middle of the room, chest heaving as my heart beat to a rhythm I've long forgotten.

Adrenaline coursed through my veins, hands gripped on my choice weapons tightly. I didn't need to look up to see that every eye in the room was on me, watching intently what I'll do next. Some probably hoped I'd carry on the attack myself, others just wanted the whole thing to end.

Sucking in a deep breath, I slowly lift my eyes off the ground and dare to make eye contact with none other than Prince Ethan himself. The surprise mixed with utmost wonder in his eyes had taken the very breath from my lungs.

Tearing my eyes from his, I look to the King, hoping I'd be allowed to keep my head after the little stunt I pulled. But the rebels got too close and I was not one for waiting. It's not how my father taught me.

Holding my head high, I released the sword from my right hand, but the dagger remained in place. Taking a handful of the fabric my dress was comprised of, I wiped it clean. Slowly, moving the dress all the way up to my upper thigh, I sheathed the dagger in its place, letting the dress fall down to the stone floor.

Unexpectedly, the King brought his hands together, clapping loudly as he stood up with a large grin on his face. The entire room followed, but I only cared for what his son did. Shifting my gaze to Ethan once more, I saw his eyes didn't lose the impressed, almost admiring look he showed previously. I had his attention, that much was sure.

„On the behalf of the royal family, I'd like to express my gratitude.“ The King spoke, loud and clear for everyone to hear while I stayed put in my spot, feeling the blood on my neck and chest like drops of fire burning through my skin.

„I was just doing my duty, Your Grace.“ I spoke, my voice void of all emotion; cold and calm as I seemed on the outside.

„Oh, but you did so much more. Where did you learn to fight like that?“ The King asked, very much interested and entertained, like the entire thing was just a show in a theater.

„My father was a knight in your guard. He failed to see the difference between teaching his sons and teaching his daughters. After all, we were all his children.“ I respond, my heart breaking as I remember my father. He was brave and thoughtful, selfless and loyal. A man ahead of his time, that's for sure. Since the first day, he had treated me as an equal to my brothers, teaching me to write, read, fight. He wanted me to be able to protect myself, come what may.

„Oh, which one is that?“ The King furrowed his brows, wondering who I belonged to.

„Ser (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N). He died in the war fighting alongside you.“ I felt my cool dissolve, but refused to let it be seen by the gathered crowd. No one seemed to care that there were at least eight dead men bleeding on the stony ground they stood on.

„I remember him! He saved my life!“ The King exclaimed, recognition flashing in his eyes.

„Just as you did now!“ He adds, turning to his wife. Looking back at me, he propped his head up on his hand, head tilted slightly to the right.

„You may ask anything you wish of me. Anything...If it's within my power, I shall grant it.“

The offer certainly allured me, even brought upon me something I never thought I'd want. A wish for stature and a position of power.

„I wish to be a lady of the court. Your ward to be exact.“ A series of loud gasps filled the room as I kept a stoic facial expression, not breaking the eye contact with the king...no matter how much I wanted to look to Prince Ethan for his opinion.

The King didn't show any emotion at all, nor offer any insight in his mind through his facial expression upon hearing my words.

„Only that?“ He questioned, almost disappointed with my answer.

I chuckle dryly, averting my gaze to the right before focusing it on the King once more. Clasping my hands together, resting them on my stomach, I respond.

„What? You expected me to ask for your son's hand in marriage?“ The room was still with words I spoke, but I couldn't hold back a giggle. A giggle that echoed the room as no one dared to move.

„I may be a woman, but I'm not a silly girl with silly notions. You'd never grant something like that. I'd have asked to be a knight in the future king's guard, but even that is beyond what I'd be given. So, yes. I wish to be made a ward of the court, a noble lady.“ I finish, hardening my gaze as the King nodded with pursed lips.

I felt another pair of eyes burning into me as I stood before them all. The ferocity of just one look causing a flutter in my chest. There was no need to search for who the eyes belonged to as I could tell Ethan had kept his gaze strictly on me since the whole ordeal happened. And I liked it.

„Granted.“The King nodded in thought, perhaps debating my so called silly notions.

With those words, I was made a noble. One who would never be allowed to forget she's a commoner, but a noble nonetheless.

„May a servant clean you up...and this floor. You can borrow a dress from Cameron and return to the feast. A seat will be made for you.“ The King spoke, several servants running up to me, ushering me out of the room and to the west wing of the castle where the royal sleeping chambers were.

It took us a couple of minutes of almost running to get to a room lit by candles. It was huge...as big as the house I live in. But inside, everything was made out of wood...carved to perfection.

The girls started to undress me, startling me.

„Whoa, whoa. What are you doing?“ I asked, eyes wide and lips parted in shock.

„Cleaning you up as the King requested.“ One spoke up, not meeting my eyes.

I sighed, not wanting the girls to fear me. After all, I was one of them just moments ago.

„Can you get the blood out of my own dress?“ I turned so they'd have an easier access to the back of my dress, feeling their fingers already undoing the knot I tied to keep it from opening.

„I can certainly try, my lady.“ The same girl spoke, her voice quiet and words carefully chosen.

„You don't have to call me that. Not when we're alone.“ I smile as another one wipes the blood from my chest, the third one dealing with my hands. They were quick and efficient, already showing me dresses to pick from. I went with a red one this time around, not really caring how I look anymore.

They laced it up and stood around, staring in awe. I didn't have to look down to know my cleavage was exposed more than before, the light, cold breeze had told me that in an instant.

„You look stunning.“ They said in unison as I blushed with the compliment.

„But we must go.“ With that, I was rushed back to the crowd, earning yet another clap as I entered. I had hoped it would go unnoticed, but everyone seemed eager to welcome me. Smiling softly, I stood aside and waited for the crowd to disperse. I wasn't interested in taking the seat so kindly set between the Princes and the Princess just yet, wanting to experience tonight to the best of my ability.

The room was spotless, no blood in sight. Music played a happy tune many townies loved, but it suddenly shifted into one only royals could dance to. The King and Queen stood from their seat, taking the dance floor. Others joined them, but dancing was never my best suit. However, this was more about me not having someone to dance with.

„Would you care to dance?“ Someone spoke and I turned swiftly, frightened by the sudden presence. My mind stopped as I looked to the stranger, only to find it was actually a prince.

„Prince Ethan!“ I yelped, curtsying to the best of my ability. I didn't even finish my attempt before his hands held onto my elbows, pulling me up to face him.

„No need for that, Lady Y/N.“ His voice, deep and low, sent shivers down my spine like I have never felt before.

„You're a prince after all. It's common curtsy.“ I defended my actions, blushing furiously under his relentless gaze. There was kindness in his eyes, but the mischievous glint seemed to outshine everything else.

„And you're a lady now. You bow only to the king.“ Ethan reminded me, his hands still on my arms, slowly trailing down to my own hands. Gently taking them in his, he lifts my right one to his lips, pressing them into the skin on the back of it, never once breaking eye contact. I gulped nervously.

Why must he be so intense all the time?

„So, you never answered my previous question. Would you care to dance?“ He repeated, not letting go of either of my hands and I was grateful for not shaking like a leaf in the wind under his touch.

„I'm more of a fighter than a dancer, really.“ I mussed, shyly averting my gaze to the floor.

A touch of his index finger on my chin and the cold sensation in my hand as he released it brought my attention back to the handsome man before me.

„I'll lead.“ He guided me into the dancing crowd, his hand on the small of my back as my heart thumped so loudly I was certain everyone could hear. Once in the center of the room, his palm pressed against my waist, while the other held my hand in the air. He moved impossibly close, the wine on his breath easily felt from our proximity. With one hand, he lifts me up and rests my feet atop of his, a smirk on his lips as I look down with a thousand questions in my mind. Moving his feet and both of us in that moment, his grip on me tight, yet gentle, we danced like one. I'd never been a good dancer, but for the first time in my life I was doing just that...dancing.

One song after another, the Prince refused to let me go, dancing with no other and arousing suspicion in the court. He ensnared me with his gaze, whispered compliments in my ear and I had become sure this was nothing but a dream. How else could this be possible?

His words rang in my ears, each bringing a warmth to my heart and a smile to my face.

„You're one of a kind.“ He'd whisper, getting only a roll of my Y/E/C eyes in return.

„And you're just a charmer.“ I'd retort, raising an eyebrow to his fake shock.

„No, just an honest prince. After all, I'm not the one who lied about his dancing skills.“ He teased, arching an eyebrow as well. God, how sexy he looked when he did that!

„You're the one dancing! I'm just holding on for dear life.“ I chuckle, raking my nails over the exposed skin on the back of his neck to remind him of that.

He rolled his eyes, nodding lightly before letting me go. I had thought it was the end of it, but he captured my hand in his, pulling me out of the room as the King ended the dinner just as we walked out.

„What are you doing?“ I turned around, starting to worry of his rush and firm hold on my hand.

Just as I asked, Ethan pushed me against the wall, each of his hands resting by my head, his forehead leaned on mine as he breaths heavily. I was captured, unable to move.

„Prince?“ My voice was quiet, perhaps the fear inside ever tangible. I could not fend for myself and risk hurting the Crown Prince, but I wasn't about to let him defile me.

„I hate my life.“ He spoke, surprising me with this admission. I wanted to move, caress his face or run my fingers through his hair, but I couldn't. I was paralyzed.

„I must marry another, yet I had fallen for you.“ His voice trembled, no longer a picture of confidence he wore the entire night. I suppressed my need to speak as he was breaking before me.

„What have I done to be punished so?“ He kept talking and my resolution to remain quiet disappeared.

„You aren't in love with me. You barely know me.“ I spoke up, reminding him we had just met and only spoken once. I wasn't a firm believer in love at first sight, even if my own father claimed to have fallen for my mother in such a way.

„You are brave and feisty, capable of handling several weapons. You have a mind as sharp as a diamond, tongue as sharp as the blade you wield. The smile you flash is always sincere, your touch brings warmth to my cold heart. I do love you.“ Ethan moved his forehead, boring his eyes into mine. It was heartbreaking to see the defeat in his eyes, my own reflection clear within as the candle lit up his hazel hues.

Hm...I always thought his eyes were brown.

„You are betrothed to the next Queen of France. You are to marry a country, not a woman. Someone with power and wealth and armies.“ I spoke, sneaking my arms around his neck for a small embrace. I needed to console him in some way.

„I'm a no one. No family, no power, no armies or wealth. Just a commoner.“ I spoke sadly, feeling my own heart ache even if I wasn't in love with the Prince. I could see how easy that would be... to fall for a man such as him. But I knew better. That's how people died.

„You're not a no one to me. You're a Lady...the King's ward.“ He trailed off.

„Queen of my heart.“ His words had left me breathless, yet my heart was beating wildly, moving my chest with every beat.

„I must ask you to take that back.“ I whisper, looking into his eyes but getting no answer.

„A future king should never go back on his word.“ He spoke with a broken smile, his left hand moving down to my waist, his lips nearing mine.

„And a maiden should never sell her honor for a couple of moments of passion.“ I move, using the now empty space as leverage.

„I'd never do that to you.“ Ethan spoke as I turned my back on him, confused about this turn of event. Mere hours ago, I was just a faceless girl in the crowd and now I had a Prince chasing after me.

„Perhaps...but your words speak of a much worse desire...Love is not something I take lightly.“ I respond, turning slightly to see his candlelit face.

It was almost cruel how handsome he was...unnaturally handsome.

„Neither do I.“ He stepped closer and I feel my entire body tense up with this gesture.

„Yet you speak its name in vain in a badly lit hallway to a woman you met only hours ago...while you're set to marry another when the time is right.“ I cock my eyebrow, folding my arms across my chest and straighten my back.

„Betrothed to another....that is true...But those arrangement fall through all the time. For all I know I could be betrothed to someone entirely different by tomorrow.“ Ethan let out a mirthless laugh, taking one step closer to me.

„Your father would have my head.“ I press my lips together as he nods.

„My father won't always be the king. Once I'm on the throne, nothing stops me from marrying who I want.“ Ethan points out, closing the distance between us quickly.

„Nothing but your word...“ I look away, feeling a weight on my chest...one I could not explain.

„True.“ Ethan whispers, leaning close, his lips brushing against my ear.

„But it was the word of my father, not mine, that closed the deal.“ Ethan moved back, his nose touching mine as his breath mingled with mine.

Close enough to touch, but miles away. That's how I felt. My own beating heart breaking over a love I denied myself, but deny it I must.

Reluctantly, I step back and out of his reach. The disappointment evident on his face, but understanding in his eyes.

Flashing a smile my way, he motions for me to look behind and I do, seeing a large door.

„It was an honor to accompany you to your room, Lady Y/N. Goodnight.“ He turned on his heel, walking away, but not before throwing a glance over his shoulder my way.

„Goodnight, Prince Ethan.“ I whisper softly, watching his retreating figure disappear around the corner, his footsteps still audible in the distance.

Tags: @perry--aesthetic​ @heeydolan​ @accalialionheart​ @peacedolantwins

A/N: So, what do you think? Should I make a series? Let me know, you know I love feedback :)

[maren-reads-books]

Red, White & Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston

Alex is FSOTUS, The First Son of the United States. His mother is starting her re-election campaign and Alex fully intends on helping her win another four years in office. But when he takes a trip to Europe for a royal wedding he runs into his, as his sister June puts it “archnemesis”, His Royal Highness Prince Henry of Wales. They’ve had a fairly one sided feud going on since they met at the Rio Olympics as teenagers. So when Alex gets a little bit drunk and confronts Henry, causing a 75,000 dollar wedding cake catastrophe, the two are forced to make nice for the press and to preserve international relations. But after only two days of hanging out with Henry, Alex realizes he may have misread the mysterious prince, and they exchange numbers before Alex heads back to the land of the free. But what starts out as weird sporadic texts turns into calls, and then on New Years Eve, something more. But with the two falling for each other hard, keeping their relationship away from the press is harder than it might seem. Can they keep it under wraps or will their high profile lives force things into the spotlight?

–SPOILERS–

Before we go into specifics let me just say that this book was so much fun to read, the characters and setting and storyline were superbly hilarious and romantic and just perfect. I would highly recommend that everyone reads this book. All of the characters no matter how seemingly insignificant, are all very well written and no matter how little they come up in the story they still have a part to play and you can see their development over the course of the story. Let me tell you, the White House Trio are my jam. The three of them together are just hilariously relatable, doesn’t matter that they are involved in the crazy world of the White House, they still act like crazy siblings and it is awesome. June is true older sister material and Nora is a mad genius child, I mean come on, they’re perfect. And then there’s Alex. Handsome, charming, anxious, constantly caffeinated Alex. He’s just so incredible, his character is not only relatable but on some level I was just so enamored with him the entire time, as much as I related to his character I also felt myself kind of looking up to him, like he is so driven and perfect and, ugh. Then we move across the pond to England where Prince Henry of Wales is all perfect blonde hair and blue eyes: dreamy prince charming material. His development and the way he deals with his grief through the book is so lifelike,  it made me so happy to see him developing emotionally over the course of this book, it was a majorly important aspect of this book. And then you push those two imperfectly perfect guys together and *BOOM*, explosion of adorableness that my heart can’t handle. The way the two help each other deal with their respective lives and the stress that comes with them is just a really perfect representation of a healthy relationship. When they first started talking after the incident in the hospital I was like aww they’re so cute. And then the thing happened at new years and I was like, yes finally, took you long enough, you clueless boys. And then the thing at the state dinner and I’m just like hell yea boi!! And then it just gets better from there. Their emails and texts are just stupid adorable and their super secret rendezvous under the cover of international relations is hilarious but it also kept me on the edge of my seat the entire time, waiting for something to go wrong. I laughed so much reading their interactions, as much as their relationship was completely adorable they are also exceedingly hilarious. All the scenes with them in it are just pure gold. And then the Texas incident happens and I’m like “nonononononononononono!” I was so upset and Alex was so upset and I could feel that, it was heartbreaking. Then he got fed up with being heart broken and flew all the way to Europe and it was great and things were perfect and they finally admitted to being in love with each other and then BAM. The internet blows up and communications are shut down and they are left stranded on opposite sides of the ocean just wondering how the other is doing and they miss each other so much, thank god for Zahra, I don’t know how much longer Alex would have lasted if he hadn’t gotten to Henry when he did. And then he’s there and there are still things to talk about but they’re together and that’s what really matters. And then the Queen and Henry’s brother are being complete pricks and then mom comes to the rescue, cough *for the first time in five years* cough, but things get resolved and people support them and they are just perfect. Then they do cute courting photos because they are officially together and yay. And then his mom wins the election on top of it all? I thought I was going to cry, it was so good. On another note, aside from the fabulous ending of this book, I was so upset when I learned what Richard did, that’s just awful, but sadly, completely accurate. Reading this book and seeing what could be possible for America makes me really sad because the current administration sucks butt and it makes me want to jump into this book. I would totally vote for Claremont in 2020 but alas, it will never come to be, because awesome politicians obviously can only be fictional. But Henry getting a brownstone in NY and getting to do the charity biz he so badly wants to do is great, and then Alex is going to law school and he took Henry to the house, ugh, the ending of this book was just so amazing I can’t even. But in the end it’s an amazing love story but also the politics and characters are just so incredibly well written that EVERYONE should read it.

-maren

[jettpacks]

Nat Wolff + male + he/him + blood manipulation┊ ❛ ━ hey, is it just me or do you hear My Petersburg by Derek Klena playing in the distance ? oh, that’s just Jett Hawkins, a 23 year old conman. according to my sources, i heard he can be true neutral and is cunning, but also detached. that’s probably why they remind everyone of worn out sneakers, cheap halloween masks and callous hands so much ! anyway, whether or not they’re neutral towards the supers, crystalline city is keeping a close eye on them !

DEATH TW, MURDER TW, BLOOD TW.

Downtown. It is late at night in the low sides of the city (another city) and blinking neon signs can be read from afar on a brick wall: PSYCHIC. LOVE POTIONS. PALM READING. RECIPE FOR SUCCESS.

A black slick Mercedes parks at the front and four men get out. Three of them are brutes, most likely they don’t even know how to count. Then, another man, slightly older, but very well dressed and he shamelessly shows off a bunch of golden rings around his fingers.

A woman inside, sitting on a velvet red chair immediately recognizes the visitors and shoves her kid under a trap door. UH-OH, this is isn’t good. HE DOESN’T OBEY, he is worried about his mother and as soon as he gets out, the massacre start; his mother tries to shield him and he remembers seeing blood drops flying around and then he screamed and a hit on the head left him unconscious. Jett wakes up and two men PLUS HIS MOTHER are on the floor dead, completely drained of blood and staining the walls of the shop permanently.  HE... HE KILLED THEM, DIDN’T HE?   The boy was only SEVEN.

Nobody wants to be responsible of lil’Jett , there were no other family members known and everybody played deaf and blind to what happened that night; so good boy goes into the system.

Cliché story: foster homes suck, he is the little and weak one, he gets pushed around; naturally he is not gonna make it because of his strength, so Jethro starts TRAINING HIS MIND INSTEAD. He becomes very observant, his thin frame helps him be quick and sly when he needs to and he discovers a particular affection towards poker cards when his caretaker and his friends fall asleep drunk mid-game. The kid sneaks into the kitchen to get some milk and to his foot stuck a Joker card, which he immediately adored.

The card became his token and little by little, snatching coins from under the couch and behind the fridge, Jett managed to buy his first deck of cards; of course they were old and a second-hand acquisition, but it was the first thing ever he got with his own money and OH BOY, he was excited.

Taking little trips very early when the caretaker was still asleep, Jett got the newspaper’s seller trust to take a peek at the Magic Corner, a magazine about basic magic tricks for kids and of course, he devoured all that had to do with cards and coins.

Time goes by and Jett is fourteen, he is tired of living under an iron fist and so, he packed his few things and left the house and the city to never go back.   NOTHING AWAITED FOR HIM IN THERE AFTER ALL.

At first, he thought of heading towards Europe, an obvious choice for anybody who wanted to become a master of magic, but some bad decisions here and there caused him to run away to Crystalline City instead.

PERSONALITY & PRESENT

While Jett really enjoyed magic and overall, tricking people, his biggest passion was SURVIVING. Sometimes being a conman wasn’t enough, specially with all the competition around the city, so sometimes, he would have to end up doing some side-jobs like working on delivery ( of illegal stuff of course ) or sneaking in to make a little robbery for someone else. None of this made him proud, even though he always talks loud about his thief abilities.

Y’know, rough past and cynical attitude. Jett didn’t really know kindness through his life and it shows. He doesn’t trust easily and won’t do anything that doesn’t benefit him in some way. A True Neutral at heart.

Sleeping in shelters, couches or alleys, the boy is always on the look for his next gold and the next place he will use as temporary room. He hates feeling like a charity case and so, will rarely accept anything if he didn’t work for it or gained it in a bet.

Long ago, when his mother was still alive, he heard her talk through the phone about him “having the genes” , whatever that meant is still unknown to Jett , but he REALLY hopes is not an illness or something like that.

He is very observant, able to use the deductive method to read you up and down; is this result of his brains? His years facing the streets? Is he actually a psychic unlike his mother? Nobody knows, not even him, but THANKS GOD his good instincts, because that is what has kept him alive all these years. I’d say it is idiot’s luck.

Comrade of everyone and friend of no one, he travels so much that he hasn’t ever really bonded with someone and he says he doesn’t need it, attachments mean weaknesses and he ain’t up for having them.

He tends to accidentally guess stuff about people and to use humor as coping mechanism because he doesn’t allow himself to let the others see him hurt.

At this point he doesn’t really have an objective in life, just the day-by-day life.

His biggest phobia is BLOOD. He can’t see it, smell it or feel it. He can even faint upon the sight of it because it recalls THE tragic event of his life.

He is a good kid, but always prone to cause some trouble if possible AND IF REWARDED.

He can do some America’s Got Talent card shit, but just not AS GOOD, otherwise he’d be famous and rich amirite?? But he’s in the process of learning. He can steal your wallet and watch without you noticing, though.

Doesn’t have a phone, but the largest park during the mornings is a good place to find him, otherwise, he can be pretty much anywhere, most likely running away from something.

Recently he just escaped from the Dove prison and is pretty paranoid, scared and alone.

HE MISSES HIS MOM. Lowkey hates happy families.

Idk there’s a lot and I could go on forever, so next thing!

POWERS

Blood manipulation. He is not keen with it. While his mother tried to train him into it, he never had much of a chance to do something about it and after the horrible experience, he just decided to shut it down for good. His power exploded sometimes in moments of absolute fright or anger, causing his targets to get VERY low pressure or their blood to boil, things like that. Unknowingly to him, he has been using his power on himself to have a better resistance when running or doing parkour.  HE HAS WOKEN UP COVERED IN BLOOD MORE THAN ONCE and he doesn’t know why (possible connection right here!) and the situation terrifies him. While under a calm mood he cannot control anything bigger than a rat, let’s see what happens when he gets upset!

PLOTS / CONNECTIONS ( warning, I suck at these )

Friends. He has never had them, it’s time for a change.

The Royal and the Commoner. I am a sucker for opposites. This can be either romantic or platonic!

People he has / is / will work for. Can either be shady stuff or an actual honest job! ( consider he officially just finished middle school, but is very very street smart and actually can be wise?? Has done research on his own about stuff he is interested about )

Mentors. Teaching them to do bad things? To do good things?

Bad influence and good influence. Self-explaining.

Someone that has been using him for his power??

He likes hanging out in the universities and even sneaking into giant classes to pass the time even though he hardly understands a thing.

Let’s brainstorm!

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

DMODT 46 FULL DRAFT - END OF ARC THREE

Luca was a ball of energy, and so very curious. He was a salve on Eren's aching soul, easing the worries the omega was suffering from when it came to Levi. Barely two days old, the little dragon was happy to make his wishes known. Whether it be milk, or to be put back up on the bed with them, each time he'd trill "Lu" until either Levi or Eren picked him up. Eren was completely smitten. Like any new born, there'd been accidents, which led to trial and error over creating a nappy for Luca to wear given they couldn't take the dragon outside their room yet. He loved bath time, though the first time his feet had touched the water, he'd reared up and tried to flap his wings like he thought intimidating it would do something. Levi had laughed at their adopted son so hard that Eren hadn't known what to say or do. It's felt like decades since he'd heard the man laugh. The alpha was clearly just as smitten, even with his lack of emotions... and Eren was maybe just a bit more than a little jealous. All he'd been getting from Levi was violent dreams, smacked in the face more than once as the alpha cursed whoever was plaguing him. By morning, his magic would have healed him back up, and he could face the day like nothing happened thanks to Luca's love.

 Staying at the inn was nice. The bed was comfortable, the food and drink were poison free, yet the omega was starting to go crazy as they waited to hear from Erwin, or with fear when Levi would seemingly blank out for a moment or two while doing something trivial like folding clothes, or buttering bread. Still, Eren held his tongue better than he'd thought he could. Each time he looked to Luca, he'd take a breath and push a smile to his face. He still loves Levi, and knew Levi wouldn't hurt him if he was conscious. That was the main thing, he'd also never hurt Luca, which also told Eren that he Levi didn't mean his actions. With time on their hands, they'd consulted the map Levi had purchased. It showed they were in what was called "Europe", a land mass Marley had once attempted to conquer before they'd been driven out. The country was land locked, and it'd take flying over two other countries to get back home. It was kind of disappointing to know the channel outside their window didn't connect to the ocean, but that soon passed. The view reminding him that he needed to be strong like the bricks that held up this city. He wanted this kind of peace for Eldia, so he needed tried to commit everything he could to memory each time he looked outside.

 It was roughly a 5 days into their stay that Levi finally received word from Erwin. They'd been woken by a constant tapping against the glass of the doors, to find a royal eagle waiting to be let in. The moment the eagle swept into the room, Luca wanted to be friends. Wiggling his butt, he'd taken off. Launching himself at the eagle, and landing on the floor with a confused coo. If the eagle could talk, Eren was sure that it'd be laughing it's arse off at Luca's lack of stealthy. Taking the message from the canister attached to the birds leg, Levi wasted no time reading it, leaving Eren nervous as he tried to imagine what Erwin could have written. Penning his own letter back on the back of Erwin's, the whole delivery and reply took all of 10 minutes, before the alpha was making himself a cup of tea. Eren tried so hard not to break the silence, but he just couldn't help himself

"What did he say?"

"Zeke wants us home"

No shit. He knew that much

"The royal advisors said to wait another two weeks before returning. They're going to send a ship to collect us just east of Marley's borders, then announce that we were travelling to celebrate our engagement, and that there was a delay in our return"

"Seriously?! They don't want us back right away?"

"They do. It's just become a little difficult"

"But... by the time we get back, it's going to be like... 6 weeks since we found out. Isn't that too long?"

"I don't know. Erwin says Zeke won't listen. The royal advisors aren't listening to Erwin, despite him being the prince and then there's been whispers that some of the Marley guests within the castle walls are planning something. They're probably trying to accumulate information we get home. In other words, they know their plotting something big, and need time to take care of the traitors in their midst before it's safe for us to set foot in there"

Or they were planning to kill Erwin off... they only really needed Levi. Levi was the public prince... with Erwin gone, Levi lost his right hand man... He could easily be dead by the time they got back, and as impossible as the alpha was, he was Levi's friend. He didn't want the man to die

"Levi. We have to go back"

"Eren..."

"Please. I hate this. If Erwin dies before we get back, the blood of the royal family dies along with him"

There was Armin... but he didn't know if Obsydin knew about that secret, so he sure as hell wasn't about to blurt it out and put his friend in danger

"I know. I knew you'd want to head back, so I told Erwin we'll be leaving tonight. Not flying, mind you. We'll set out by horseback until we get to Marley. Once we've reached the border, we'll keep just inside of it until we reach the rendezvous point"

That plan sucked

"Won't they recognise you?"

"I've only ever been to the Capital of Marley once, and that was to sign the stupid peace treaty. At least along the border, we shouldn't run into anyone who'd recognise us"

"But if war's coming, wouldn't they close the borders?"

"Marley is preparing to take the war to Paradis Island. They're so confident they'll defeat us, the bulk of their armed forces are waiting for deployment at their port"

Eren frowned, then hissed as Luca nipped his fingers wanting his next feed

"I don't like this"

"Neither do I"

"I feel like... like Zeke is giving us too much time to return. If he really wanted you dead, he wouldn't wait for two months after the initial incident. He could have taken the castle by now"

"Erwin's worried about that too. He thinks that there may be a spy within the ranks of advisors, which wouldn't surprise me at me this stage. Ultimately the decision is mine to make. For now, we'll make for Marley"

It was better than nothing... he'd have to swallow down his dislike of horses. Ugh. The demon beasts, they were.

"Ok... Did he say if Draecia was contacted?"

"No. I am assuming they would have been, but no official royal correspondence had been sent. I should say, he didn't mention reaching out to them recently. I know you've got Luca to think of, but you need to be careful. You're my fiancé. If they do recognise me, they'll be after you too"

Eren's tongue betrayed him before he could stop himself

"Am I? I don't have my ring anymore..."

"I've got it. I didn't know how to return it"

He wasn't expecting that at all

"You kept it?"

"Why wouldn't I keep it? I meant what I said. I want to be with you for as long as it's safe for me to be with you. I won't tolerate this "me" that's been hurting you"

"Levi..."

"I'm still just as serious about you leaving if it gets too much"

"You know I won't do that"

This fight was falling back into it's usual loop, that would only end up with them both in a stiff and awkward silence because Eren wouldn't agree, and Levi wouldn't take no for an answer. He needed to stop it before that happened

"Stubborn brat"

"Yeah. I am. If I wasn't, I wouldn't be able to stay by your side"

Levi simply sighed at him

"You're stubborn about all the wrong things. Stupidly faithful, and unfairly beautiful. I still don't know what you're doing with me"

What was he supposed to say to that? Again... Levi wasn't making this easy. Playful. If he went playful, the alpha should take the out... even if meant delaying their departure by an hour or three

"We all have our kinks. Anyway, we should make a move. I can't wait to get back and introduce them all to Luca"

"And who knows, maybe we'll actually make some pretty decent memories on this trip?"

"You mean you laughing each time I fall off the horse?"

Two could play this game, Levi arching an eyebrow as he shrugged

"There that. Just make sure you don't hurt Luca with all the dirt kissing you're about to do"

"Dream on, old man. I'll have you know I made it to the port by horse back, alone"

"And I'll have you know riding for two weeks is going to silence that pretty little mouth of yours"

"I can think of other ways to silence it"

"Really?"

"I can think of better ways for you to be using your mouth, too. But alas, we need to pack"

"Pack, my arse. You're not getting away that easily"

    *

Travelling was going much smoother than Levi had expected. After "borrowing" two horses, they'd mounted up. Eren so far yet to make the acquaintance of the ground, despite not paying one ounce of attention to where they were going. With his cloak hood up, Luca had settled around his neck, mostly hidden away as he peaked over Eren's shoulder, trilling "Lu" each time something caught his attention. Levi wasn't jealous at all... Much... He was, but it Luca made it hard to be mad at him for taking all of Eren's attention. He hadn't really thought the logistics through of "adopting" a baby dragon, nor had he expected it to bring out such a strong paternal feeling from inside of him. Watching his two dragons together, it was a bitter sweet pill as he wished that Luca wasn't possibly the only child they'd ever have. The baby dragon adored Eren, though he also seemed fond of Levi too. If Levi was to go to the bathroom without him, Luca would cry at door for him until he turned. If the baby dragon wasn't curled up between them at night, he'd cry. Though he didn't stay between them. He'd learned that blankets wiggled and if he attacked what was wiggling, he'd be picked up and showered with pats and scratched. If they dared eat something in front of him without sharing, he made it known as he attempted to, less than stealthily, join in. Unlike most baby animals, Luca was ready for the world the moment he came out, and so far he'd proven himself to be a mini-Eren. From the butt-wiggle like a kitten before pouncing, to sprawling out on his back and snoring at his slept. His wing really didn't seem to put a dent in his happiness, nor did it stop him from trying to fly.

 Watching Eren whispering to Luca, Levi nudged his horse closer. Feeling slightly put out over the fact he wasn't involved in their "conversation". It wasn't like Luca could talk back, but Eren assured him that as the dragon grew, he'd slowly learn. For now, Luca simply liked hearing their voices

"What are you whispering about?"

"About how long it would take for you to come over. I think he misses you. He won't sit still"

Pulling down his hood, Luca scrambled to hold onto Eren as his excited looked to Levi. The dragon's sharp little claws digging in, was the only thing stopping the baby dragon from falling off the horse with excitement

"Doesn't that hurt?"

"A little. But he doesn't mean it. Are you going to take him?"

"Yeah. Pass him over"

Eren gathered Luca up, carefully passing him over, where Levi took him by the scruff of the neck to sit him down on the rise of the saddle. Closing his eyes, Luca shook his head as if the wind was blowing through his non-existent hair. It didn't matter that the horses were only walking, the baby dragon was... a dopey idiot

"He looks happy"

"He's never not happy. How about you? Are you holding up alright?"

"My arse is numb"

"That happens. It's supposed to be a full day to the next town"

"I know. I was there when you decided where we were going last night. And I was there when you decided we needed to leave early"

There was no real bite in Eren's voice, yet something rubbed him the wrong way

"You said you were fine with riding"

"I am fine with it"

"You just complained about your arse"

"I wasn't complaining. I was just saying my bum is numb. How about you? Everything ok over there?"

With Luca "basking" in the wind, Levi shrugged

"As long as this one behaves himself, it's fine"

"Oh... ok... if he gets too much, I'll take him back"

Somehow he'd hurt Eren's feelings, the omega slumping in his saddle as his fiddled with his reins. He didn't know what he'd done, yet, he'd done it

"He's fine..."

Levi grasped for something he could turn into a conversation

"... what are you looking forward to in the next town?"

Eren perked back up with a hum that seemed a little fake. If he didn't want to talk, he should just say so

"Other than a proper bed, maybe the markets? Can we take a look this time?"

They hadn't taken a look at the rows of markets in the city due to the fact they'd creatively liberated the horses. Well, Levi had liberated the horses while Eren waited for him, smoothly assuring the omega it was fine. The stables he'd taken the horses from left much to be desired. They were probably happier this way, then being with owners that probably didn't give two shits about their condition

"That should be fine. We've still got some coins left, though we can't afford to be too frivolous"

"I just wanted to get Luca something warmer to sleep in. He's so tiny I get worried he's going to get sick"

"Like you?"

Eren nodded, a hand going to his chest

"I know it might be stupid, but when I look at him, I get so worried for his future"

"He'll be fine. He's got you to protect him"

"I can't protect him from everything... or everyone"

Maybe not. But once Eren was home, he'd have the protection of Erwin, Armin, Hanji and Mikasa. If worst came to worst, he had very little doubt that the 5 of them together could figure something out

"He's going to be fine. He's already just like you, and you're fine"

"He's not just like me"

"Eren, you two even sleep in the same position"

"I... it's a dragon thing"

Huffing his protest, Eren pouted at him

"I didn't say it was a bad thing. I've already told you you're a natural. You make a great mum to him. The only danger he's in is being spoilt to death"

Patting Luca's head, the dragon trilled at him with a smug look. The little dragon already knew he had them both wrapped around his little claw.

    *

Travelling probably shouldn't have been as fun as it'd turned into. The closer they grew to Marley, the more little things set Levi off, but as long as Eren didn't push when his alpha's mood suddenly shifted, he could deal with it. Over the last week, they'd seen so many amazing things. Spices, herbs and food he'd never known existed. People and cultures with shrines and carvings so intricate he could have stared at them for hours. Even horse riding was no longer just sitting on the back of a demon beast. He could trot now, but cantering felt like he was flying. Luca would sit up on his shoulders and bask in the feeling of the wind. Best of all these new experiences was that Levi was by his side for it all. His alpha having moments when he was so affectionate that everything else just faded from his mind. Like the time he'd nearly got lost at the market when he'd stopped to look at a new type of fabric he'd never seen before. The vendor was talking away to him, and before he knew it, he'd been swept into his store and shown the most amazing silk robes. The man didn't even care that his hair and face were covered by a scarf of sorts, as that was what everyone else wore in the sandy country. When Levi had found him, the alpha laughed at the pink fabric the man was trying to force upon him. Pink was definitely not his colour, neither was the bright pink of the semi-transparent fabric. Wanting to prove to Levi that he could totally pull off dainty and delicate, Eren had twirled around with two lengths of fabric in his hands, which ended up with them both evicted over his shenanigans. In his side back, Luca had looked up at him like he was judging him just as silently as the vendor had. He'd even tried riding something called a camel for the first time. A kind of creature he'd never seen before, and wasn't sure he ever wanted to see again, but they'd had to "sell" their horses at the border to the sandy country as horses couldn't make it across the desert dunes. Of course, they didn't really sell them. It kind of worked on exchange where you left your horses on side, and were presented with a token you could chip in once you'd safely made it across the desert and to the port city that was at the end of the trail. On the first night of the trip they'd had a private tent, where Levi had been too busy laying claiming his body, he didn't have to worry about anyone else trying to make a move on him. They'd been so loud, the members of the group had teased them. Eren didn't mind, and when their tent slowly filled with fellow travellers he didn't mind either. He might not be able to speak their language, and the journey might have taken up a week and half, completely blowing Levi's two week plan out the water, but he felt so incredibly alive. Sometimes hours would pass without him thinking of home, then all at once it'd hit him, and he'd fall into a flunk over what was waiting in Eldia. Whenever Levi caught him in one of his moods, the alpha always pulled him close and told him it'd all be ok.

 After an amazing first week, and an interesting second week, the third progressively grew worse. They were delayed for two days due to a freak storm that had taken everyone else by surprise, so by the time they crossed into Marley, Levi was short tempered and constantly snapping. The alpha nursing a headache he refused any help for, and was back to walking in his sleep again. If he asked, Levi would snap, apologise, then fall silent. Next came the physical abuse. Like back at the hotel in Hannes's country, the first time Levi slapped him, he didn't know what happened. The second time, Levi broke his arm when Eren woke him while sleepwalking. Following Levi, he'd waited until his arm had healed before attempting to wake him, then slightly bent the truth by pretending he'd never been hurt in the first place. While he could deal with it, Luca couldn't. Luca had started to shy away from Levi at night, hiding under the bed and tucking his tail between his legs when the man tried to get close. He could see the pain on Levi's face. The confusion followed by the defeat. Eren's omega knew Levi wasn't to blame. Marley wasn't exactly Obsydin's, Levi's, or Eren's favourite place to be. For all Zeke's talk, poverty ran rampant in the border towns. To Eren, Marley had been the enemy... but to see its people suffering, it really drove home that Eldia wasn't the only one under the shackles of war. Where he could, and where he wasn't noticed, he'd use the seeds of all the new herbs and such he'd purchased to grow trees for farmers, or to give the sad crops a little boost. Levi didn't like it. He claimed Eren was being too obvious. But if a farmer already had an orchard, how was he to notice a few more trees? He just wanted to help people. Was that really so wrong? They hadn't asked to be swept up in this stupid war. Just like Levi hadn't asked to start losing more and more of himself, while Obsydin only continued to grow in his mind.

  Telling himself that they'd soon be home, Eren wasn't sure if he believed it anymore. He was tired. So fucking tired that he was sleep riding. Out of nowhere his lungs had started giving him trouble again, to which Levi had responded to by telling him "to stop that ridiculous noise". The alpha, once again apologising for his actions, only to spill half a bowl of boiling water across his lap when his grown so bad Eren needed a dose of steam. Levi's eyes had been blank as he carried the bowl across their small camp, pouring it across him before coming to when screamed at the unexpected pain. Luca had come running from the tent, launching himself into Eren's lap and growling at Levi. The baby dragon not realising his claws went straight through Eren's clothes, and tore into the tender flesh. Reassuring Luca it was just an accident between pained coughs, Levi was skeptical until Eren assured him too that he was fine, and that it really was an accident, while trying to dislodge Luca's claws. At least when Luca rode on his shoulder, the scales across his back offered some protection, not like the bare and soft skin of his thighs. He hated seeing both Luca and Levi upset. His happy family had started falling apart at the seems, as his omega began to grieve the loss, despite the fact his two loves were right there near him.

 Levi changed further after that night. Each time they touched, he apologised. Each time they had sex, it felt like they were two gears not aligning properly. Each time he sought Levi for comfort, Levi was quick to tense. In his heart he knew what was coming, but his mind was a different story as it foolishly hung onto the belief that they'd always be together.

    *

Since crossing the border into Marley, a sick kind of anger had wormed its way into Levi's mind. In his dreams he was searching for something, for someone, only for the dreams to end with the death of a red dragon so large it blocked the sun. He didn't know what it was supposed to mean. He didn't know how to interpret or "read" dreams, he just knew each time he woke, he felt a longing in his chest that wasn't for his lover.

 As they travelled, it became harder to focus on Eren. The alpha found his mind constantly at war with itself. They were in Marley territory. It would be nothing to ride into the capital and cause hell. He could kill Zeke before the man had a chance to destroy Marley. He could kill the whole royal family and not blink an eye at the fall out. He felt no sympathy at all for the citizens of Marley, nor the struggling people Eren was obsessed with helping. If they died, it simply meant there was one person who was less likely to take up a sword against Eldia, so, by Eren helping them, the omega was effectively aiding in the war efforts against their own country. Once the thought had burrowed it's way in, it seemed to infect every fibre of his being. The love and desire he felt for Eren, began to dim and flicker, yet, he knew he loved Eren with everything he had. It was Obsydin's madness that was tearing his lover from his mind, Hannes had said he'd go crazy trying to house two seperate consciousnesses in his mind, and crossing Marley's border had been the final nail in the coffin.

 For days he hid his pain the best he could. There'd been more and more incidents where he found himself in places he had no memory of being in, or he found Eren guiding him back to their camp, wreaking of pain, yet wearing a fake smile as if nothing was happening. The incident with the boiling water had happened before he'd known what was going on, Eren's screams echoing in his head. He'd reached his limit. He needed to leave now, or risk killing Eren. Just how many times had he hurt him? What had he done to him? Pouring boiling water across his lap, striking him, snapping at him. All of this was unforgivable in his eyes, but with the way Luca had become so weary of him, he was sure he'd done more, and for that, the last sliver of his human could never forgive him.

  Reaching the shore he'd agreed upon with Erwin, Levi found himself wavering over leaving. Just across the sea, Eldia was waiting for them. The sea that Eren and Luca had been so happy to play in once they'd reached the beach. He didn't know who was the first to reach the waves, only that Luca was barrelled up in the swell, when he reemerged, the first thing he tried to do was attack it. Eren didn't even bother changing as he ran into the water wearing his boots, whooping the whole time he was running, before belly flopping into the water. Their happiness was so genuine, that Levi realised he could no longer relate at all. He might have laughed, he was sure he had. Yet he couldn't remember just how someone laughed. Even thinking of the market where Eren had been thrown out the fabric store failed to bring any kind of fondness or warmth, and he knew for a fact he'd found it funny at the time. For all his gracefulness, Eren had looked like a shitty idiot as he'd spun circles and waved the pink fabric around in something that resembled "dancing". Nodding to himself, it was decided. He'd give Luca and Eren one last good day. He'd swallow down everything he could, and tell them both he loved them. He'd play in the water, or build sand castles on the beach. No matter how much he hated it. No matter how irritated he got. Today was Eren and Luca's day.

 So that's what he did. Letting the two dragons play, Eren shifted into his dragon form and let Luca climb all over him. It was a stupid idea, anyone could have seen them, yet he didn't say a word as he set up camp. He also didn't say anything when Eren shifted back, and returned a panting mess with a sleepy Luca in his arms. When the sun was at highest point, they ate lunch. Eren lazing around naked, having stripped off his wet clothes after playing. When Luca went down for a nap, the omega climbed into his lap, so Levi showered him with attention, desperately trying to brand every inch of Eren into his mind, and not show his annoyance over helping the omega who helped the enemy. He loved him. He loved him so fucking much, that he still couldn't understand how everything had gone so wrong.

 After sex they'd cuddled until the temperature began to cool, Eren clinging to him tightly, as if he knew he was going to wake up alone the following morning. Whispering words of love, it washed on Levi like water running down the drain. Hated this. Normally his brain would shut up after he'd knotted Eren, yet everything in his head was only getting louder. He didn't hear his lover asking if he wanted to join him swimming. He didn't realise how focused on the voices in his head were until he found himself staring into Eren's worried green eyes. How one person could love him the way the omega did, defied human logic. Blindly agreeing to whatever Eren was asking, was how he ended up swimming with the omega until Luca woke. The baby dragon coming bounding down to the waters edge, before plunging in and swimming right up to them. Eren was full of praise for their adopted child, scooping him up, and holding up so Levi could scratch between the two nubs that would form his horns as he aged. Both of them were far too pure for this world... and far too pure for the twisted creature he'd become.

 After swimming came showering, which soon turned to dinner. Eren and Luca were exhausted. Luca falling asleep in his bowl of milk, while Eren climbed into Levi's arms and mumble words of thanks. Making him waver yet again. In Eldia there could be a cure. It'd been months since they'd left now... yet he knew he was just being stupid by the way the thought of a cure angered him. He didn't know what came next for him, but Eldia wasn't it. As they prepared for bed, Levi laid Eren out under the night sky, bringing forth soft and breathy moans from the omega as he pleasured him to the point of purring. Blissed out and more asleep than awake, he held Eren close to whisper in his ear

"I release you of my commands upon you. I release you of your vow and oath to Eldia. Instead I give you this new command, find a way to be happy, and know that I truly loved you. I command you not to spill our secrets, though I say this knowing you wouldn't anyway. You were kind, and soft, and pure. I leave you this way. Find another alpha. Have a family. Be happy for both of us, and for our son"

 Levi stayed until Eren had fallen asleep deeply enough not to notice him slipping out of his hold. Dressing quickly, he moved Luca to Eren's side. Eren would be heartbroken come morning. He was going to need Luca to fill that hole of betrayal he was leaving on the omega's heart. Not that he understood it anymore. Next he sorted their bags out. The cursed sword that had started it all, hadn't survived the journey all that well. It's scales "crunching" as Levi handled it. He'd intended to just wear it upon his hip, but that was no longer an option, so he merely wrapped it back up and packed into the bag he was taking. He also took the remaining coins they had, as well as half the food and his own clothes from Eldia. He could always sell the silver off his jacket if he needed money, and by taking the coins, he stopped Eren from being able to buy or rent a horse to follow him with. When he was done, he spared a glance back to Luca and Eren, his family... a little voice in the back of his mind told him he was doing the right thing, even though he knew how mad Eren would be. All he could do was shake his head, as he gathered up the reins for both horses and started leading them away from the shore line.

 From here on out, they'd walk seperate paths, with the possibility of never meeting again.

[pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles]

Killer Queen (Girls Talk Boys Part 15)

Authors Note: This song has been stuck in my head all day so I had to use it. I want to thank anyone and everyone who’s read my writing. I am a thirsty bitch so any and all feedback and questions are appreciated

Caviar and cigarettes Well versed in etiquette Extraordinarily nice

She's a Killer Queen Gunpowder, gelatin Dynamite with a laser beam Guaranteed to blow your mind Anytime

Warnings: smoking, drinking, swearing the usual

Previous Chapter

First chapter

Camille couldn't breathe and she was afraid she was going to piss herself. It wasn't healthy to laugh this hard while wearing Spanx. She had to give him credit. Tom had really come through on the costumes. Cher's idea to go as Bob's burgers was fucking brilliant. She and Cody were Linda and Bob with Nick as Gene. Lucy was oddly sexy as Louise, but Tom dressed up as Tina was what had her in stitches.

“I am a smart, strong, sensual woman” Tom even had the voice down.

“Stop, seriously I can't do this right now. The knee socks. I can't” Camille couldn't stop laughing.

“Camille, we need to get your hair put on” Lucy, bunny ears and all, pulled her up the stairs with Tom following behind. Camille wasn't a part of the Bob's Burgers bunch. Instead she and her boss teamed up as characters from Steven Universe. Stephen was going as Steven, and Camille as Rose Quartz. Lucy helped her get into her big fluffy pink and white strapless dress. The three of them then went to work on her hair. Two separate clip in pieces attached to give her volume and long flowing pink ringlets. Between the dress and the hair she looked a bit like a drag queen coming out of a wedding cake all tits and pink curls. Camille even had to admit she looked cute.

It was a little after 9 PM. They were determined not to be the first group there so they hung out for a bit catching a pre party buzz. A round of shots and a blunt. Camille was elated she was finally feeling healthy again. She was absolutely mortified she'd gotten sick in front of Harry. He'd been an angel. Not only did he get her home and to bed, for the second time, he'd taken her notes and handled the party details until Ashton came home. Tonight was the first time she'd see Harry since that day.

She hadn't really gotten to see any of the boys since they got back from Europe. The exception being Calum who had come by the morning after he'd given her the gifts to make sure she didn't need anything else. She'd stayed wrapped in her blankets hiding her face. He'd lounged on the opposite side of her bed, at her strictly enforced distance, telling her about the tour and how he'd found each of her gifts. Camille winced remembering the torture of having Calum on her bed and not being able to touch him. They carefully avoided any serious discussion talking mostly about places they'd traveled. Camille kept asking him questions about places they'd both visited. Only while Calum toured in person Camille had only explored through books. He'd stayed for about an hour before Camille started to get sleepy again. Getting up to leave he'd turned and pounced on her. Scooping her into his arms he'd buried his face in her blankets under her chin. Camille couldn't resist reaching her fingers out to stroke his neck and his jawline. The many nights she'd fantasized were nothing compared to Calum being right here. She was glad she was swaddled up so he couldn't hear her heartbeat pounding or see how flushed she was getting. They lay there like that without a word before he'd kissed her between her eyes and left.

Cher almost lost it when she walked into the party and saw Harry dressed as Squidward. Tom REALLY came through on the costumes. Harry for his part openly whooped seeing the Belcher family.

“You guys look spectacular” Harry hugged her with four tentacles.

“No seriously that's something else” Cher stood back eyeing him. “Where's Spongebob?”

“He'll be here later. I'll have to introduce you.” He leaned in to whisper “ I heard a rumor you might be single.”

“I was always single” she whispered back.

Harry just nodded and winked at her “of course, I have to find someone but Calum and Luke are around here somewhere and I'm pretty sure I saw Ashton in the kitchen with the food”

Harry pulled Tom off with him somewhere into the crowd.

Cher caught sight of Luke and she elbowed Cody. “Check it out, it's Bat-Luke.”

Cody laughed and pointed out Calum dressed as Robin pacing back and forth “and his boy wonder.”

Cody watched as Nick and Lucy greeted Lucy's friends who'd shown up dressed as the Powerpuff Girls. He recognized one as the girl who'd hooked up with Ashton at the last party. He saw Cher's face and knew she'd recognized the girl as well. Cody made a note to keep track of this one.

Pulling Cher aside he nodded towards another party guest “Do you see who that is?”

Cher looked back and her jaw dropped “Cody is that really? Wait until Camille sees he's a person and not a salad.”

“Will you stop being stupid?” Cody hissed. “I found out he's got a new show and his costar just happens to be my ex.”

Just then Calum locked eyes with Cher and laughing hysterically he jogged over.

“Holy shit you look fucking incredible, all of you” Calum told them hugging Cher and Lucy nodding at Cody and Nick.“Although I'm never going to see Louise the same way again.” He glanced behind her. “Where's Camille?”

“I see how important we are to you Cal. Speaking of important where's the booze?” Cher teased him.

“In the kitchen. Hey do you know Luke invited uh, a guest?” Calum looked nervous

“I didn't, while I appreciate the heads up I'm fine with all of this, I promise” Cher told him. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah I'm just, fucking hell, ok so Ameena kept calling me earlier and when I finally answered” Calum suddenly stopped and Cher saw his eyes light up. She was positive she'd never seen anyone smile like that.

Camille had arrived. She'd had to wait for her boss and his girlfriend so she could bring them over, but also she liked to make an entrance.

“Camille you made it” Bat-Luke appeared at her side. “That costume is perfect. You look so pretty. Cal isn't ready for this.” His blue eyes twinkling behind his mask.

“Luke” she gasped and hugged him. “Oh I've missed you sweet boy. How is everything?”

“We'll talk later. There are other people who need to see you first” Luke gently grabbed her shoulders to turn her around where Calum was coming up. Camille caught sight of him in his costume and her butterflies were back in force.

Robin had never been a sexy character but hot damn Calum was making it work. The sleeves were super short allowing her to see every tattoo on his muscled arms. Her eyes dropped down sucking in her breath surprised at how sexy Calum's thighs looked in leggings. Realizing where her thoughts were headed she tried to focus back on his face only to blush at the intensity in his gaze. Between the bulge in his leggings and his expression Calum made no attempt to hide what he was thinking.

“Can you two please try to restrain yourselves a little” Michael and Crystal appeared breaking Camille out of her thoughts.

“Hi you guys” Camille hugged them both “oh my God y'all are the cutest ever. Wanda and Cosmo? That's too perfect.”

“I can't believe you came as Rose Quartz. It was made for you. You look great.” Michael told her.

“Who did your hair? I fucking love it.” Crystal reached out playing with the pink curls

“Tom and Lucy helped. They're clip ins. I'm lucky I got the hair first thing way before I got sick.” Camille told her glancing back towards Calum who was now talking to Cher and Cody but still looking at her.

“I hope you really like him” Camille turned back to her as Crystal spoke. “I'm not taking sides in this, but he's gone through a lot just to take a chance with you.”

“I didn't ask him to” Camille felt defensive but she couldn't pretend to be completely innocent in all of this.

“I don't think he had a choice” Crystal told her. “He fell for you pretty quickly.”

Camille shook her head. “I don't know about all that. He's still young. I'm not anything special.”

“To him you are.” Crystal replied. “So please be careful, he's been hurt enough lately.”

Camille felt her face get hot. She felt a little responsible for that. If she'd walked away from the start she could've saved Calum from some of this misery.

“Hey” Crystal nudged her “I'm not trying to make you feel bad Cam. Look how happy he is right now.” They both looked up and when Calum caught them looking he excused himself from Michael.

Calum shyly approached Camille. She had this effect on him sometimes where he got so nervous. He found himself intimidated by her, and she had no clue. Just like she'd never believe him if he told her how beautiful she was right now.

Taking her hand he raised it to his lips while bowing slightly “You look like a queen tonight, your grace.”

Camille could not breathe. How could this man be real? How could this possibly be happening?

“Thank you kind sir. Royal or drag?” Camille raised an eyebrow. She cursed herself for being sarcastic when he was being so sweet.

Until she saw his lips twitch up into that smart ass grin he'd perfected.

“A little of both really. The hair is really something else.” Calum replied.

Camille bit back her usual snark and instead planted a light kiss on his jaw just beneath his ear. “Thank you” she told him.

Cher watched them from across the room. They both looked completely smitten. She'd never seen Camille look happier.

“Yeah they're gorgeous but can we talk about how cute you are in those glasses Linda” Luke's voice startled Cher out of her reverie.

“Very funny Bat-Luke” Cher giggled.

“I brought you a drink” Bat-Luke held up a red solo cup that smelled of watermelon vodka and cranberry juice.

“Leave it to Ashton to steal Camille's recipe” Cher hated this awkwardness between them. Scanning the room she turned to him “I thought your new girlfriend was coming tonight.”

Bat-Luke took a sip of his drink “she's not my girlfriend just yet, but she's here already. Summer is Andy's assistant. She's taking photos tonight.”

“I'm sure she'll be thrilled you're talking to me” Cher quipped.

“She knows about you. I've been honest with everyone. Can I get credit for that at least?” Luke looked slightly irritated and a bit wounded.

“Luke, I don't want things to be weird between us.” Cher told him.

“Nothing has to be weird. Just two friends having a conversation dressed as two cartoon characters. Totally normal.” Luke winked at her.

“Check it out Spongebob and Patrick have arrived.” Cher pointed across the room where Harry was greeting his friends.

“Holy shit that's Liam and Niall” Luke choked out a laugh.

“Hey Foxy Mama, You smell kinda pretty. Wanna smell me? Hoohah!" Ashton abruptly joined them causing Cher to almost spill her drink laughing.

Ashton as Johnny Bravo was hilariously appropriate. He looked smoking hot in tight jeans and a tight black t shirt.

"I bet your name's Mickey, 'cause you're so fine. You're so fine you..."

“Ashton there you are” Camille came over to greet him with Calum in tow.

“Camille or should I say Rose” Ashton leaned in for a hug. “You look stunning sweetheart. Calum's a lucky guy”

Calum and Camille both blushed and looked at each other with adoration.

Ashton, Cher and Luke all exchanged little “awwww” glances.

The moment was interrupted by an alarm on Calum's phone suddenly going off drawing the attention of everyone around him.

“Is that your home alarm” Ashton peeked over his shoulder as he shut off the alarm.

“Yeah my back door is open.” Calum looked confused.

“You think someone broke in?” Cher asked him.

“Not so much as I'm worried Duke got out.” Calum shook his head still confused.

“What is it Calum?” Camille reached up to caress his face so he'd look at her.

“I have the weirdest feeling. I don't even remember setting the alarm” Calum kissed her hand before letting it drop. “I really do need to check on Duke.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Camille asked.

“Yes, but if you do and I get you alone in my apartment we won't be coming back to this party.” Calum kissed her lips gently “I'll be right back I promise.”

Calum left and Ashton nudged Camille in the ribs “You two are so gross you know that. Too mushy for me.”

“Shut the fuck up Irwin” Camille shot him a smirk. “You should really show Cher where the booze is and bring me another drink.”

Ashton chuckled and bowed towards her “your grace”

He went to Cher and wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

"You look pretty...I look pretty...why don't we go into the kitchen get a drink and stare at each other? You can watch my chest hair move in slow motion.”

Cher was giggling as she followed Ashton. “don't get too drunk too early.” Camille called after her.

“Mommy doesn't get drunk, mommy has fun” Cher called back.

Camille made her way back to Luke. “Is that her?” She nodded towards a pretty dark haired girl holding a camera lingering on the edge of the crowd.

“Yes actually” Luke motioned her over. “This is Summer. She's Andy's assistant/apprentice.”

“You must be Camille” Summer extended her hand.

“What gave it away” Camille smiled at her.

“The pink hair and I saw you with Cal. He's mentioned you more than a few times.” Summer looked nervous until she glanced at Luke and Camille could see the spark. “I have to go find Andy. I'm so glad I got to finally meet you Camille.”  Summer disappeared back into the crowd.

“She's cute Luke and she seems very sweet” Camille nodded at him watching him relax.

“I wanted her to meet you first. She's more nervous about Cher.” Luke took another drink before cocking his head and laughing. “Check it out Camille it's your favorite rapper.”

Camille scrunched up her nose “You know I can't stand Drake. He's a total fuckboy and this is his fuckboy anthem.”

“You know all about them fuckboys don't you Camille.” The venom in the tone of voice made both Luke and Camille whiplash towards the sound eyes wide.

“Your little boyfriend Quentin? Diamond do you love me? Ajayani are you writing? I'm not surprised you couldn't keep him satisfied. If you think for one second just because you lost your man you can make a move on mine you'd better back off bitch.”

Next Chapter Attention

I have a fetish for him in this picture I don’t even care who knows

@biba3434 @vfdsstuff @babygirlcashton

[stealth-spiderr]

K I N G S // t.h. // chapter two

royal!tom x pirate!reader 

prologue // ch.1 

a/n i sorta use the setting of black sails for this, so Nassau is the island which was unnamed in the other parts lmao ((and yeah look this isn’t really edited))

Summary // The son of a king and the daughter of a captain meet briefly before life begins to break them down and harden their hearts. By some twisted fate the two keep meeting, each time more difficult to recognise through the ever-growing dark stain on their soul.

Word Count // 3,144

Warnings // swearing, blood, death

“Do you have any leads at all? We’ve been out here for a week and we haven’t seen any ships,” Will complains to (Y/N).

The Galleon had been out, sailing directly away from Nassau, trying to come across merchant ships from Europe. Ships that (Y/N) had insisted would be there but no one had seen any evidence of at all.

“No direct leads, but Spain and England at the very least have ships through here. So it’s not unlikely we won’t see any,” she tells Will.

He gives her a look but she just glares back until he rolls his eyes.

“You still don’t quite understand everything it takes to be a captain do you?”

“The past two years have been a learn as you go process, so no of course not. Being a good captain hasn’t exactly been top priority either, I’ve needed to make sure everyone on the crew doesn’t hate me enough to kill me in my sleep and that everyone else knows I’m to be feared. Although now that I think about it, I honestly believe more than half the crew get off on how powerful I am, they’re all basically in love with me.”

“How conceited of you.”

“Perhaps, but that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

Before Will could make another comment a muffled yell can be heard, alerting the crew that a ship can be seen. The pair rush out of the captain’s quarters onto the deck, pushing through the men to see the approaching vessel.

“Sails!” the voice of the sentry, Isaac, calls once more.

(Y/N) was yet to spot the ship and let out a frustrated growl, “Fuck’s sake, where?”

“Over the bow, King.”

She heads to the front of the ship, men moving out of her way now, and she lays eyes the other ship. It’s perpendicular to the Galleon, that much could be seen, but not much else, something about it seemed off though.

“It’s come from Europe, right?” someone asks.

“Most likely, but it has no flags,” Isaac answers.

(Y/N) looks up to his place high on the mast, he looks through a telescope at the other ship with a slight frown on his face.

“What is it?” She calls to him.

He looks down to her after a second, “It’s very still, looks like no movement on deck. Or at all.”

She looks to Will, who’s confused expression mimics hers, in hopes of some advice on what to do but he shrugs, exhaling loudly in annoyance. She swears before moving to the rigging and beginning the ascent to the platform Isaac currently sits upon, a perfect view in all directions. She holds out her hand when she’s comfortably on the platform and Isaac hands her the telescope. She peers through the device, and sure enough the other ship is eerily still, no signs of men aboard at all.

“Give us a shout if you see any changes,” she tells Isaac, handing him back the telescope and making her way back down to the deck.

(Y/N) addresses the crew, instructing them to carry on towards the unmarked ship, but to remain cautious and ready to divert their course if need be. She then nods to Will, indicating for him to follow her back her captain’s quarters.

She pushes herself onto the desk, which she keeps clear solely for this purpose, and crosses her legs, drumming her fingers on her knee while she waits for Will to close the door behind him.

“Definitely not a warship, right?” she asks him.

“You looked at it through the ‘scope, not me.”

“It wasn’t riding low so I can’t imagine it would have a full arsenal on board. The major concern is why it’s so still, yes, it’s moving with the waves and however the sails catch the wind but there’s no direction.”

She rambled out all her thoughts to Will, as he had encouraged her to do two years ago when she first became captain. He would nod at anything he thought to be of any significance or something she should think more about, and he would shake his head at things that weren’t important or didn’t need to be considered. He’d tell her anything she missed as well and it didn’t take her too long to learn much of what she needed to know.

“We don’t know enough to make a decision right now, do we?” she says, intending it to be question but it didn’t come out like one.

Before Will can reply a frantic knock at the door interrupts the discussion.

“What is it?” (Y/N) calls.

The door opens, and she rolls her eyes because she didn’t give permission for the person to enter, but raises her eyebrows at the dark haired man who’s stuck his head in the room.

“Isaac’s got something you’ll wanna see, King,” he says.

And she’s off the desk and pushing passed him in seconds.

She climbs the rigging immediately, not looking towards the ship until she’s reached Isaac once again.

“What are we looking at?”

“See for yourself, King,” Isaac sighs, handing her the telescope.

She takes it, holding up to her eye and sucking in a breath when she sees why the ship is so still.

Bodies.

Most of the deck is covered in bodies. Blood stained, almost making it impossible for her to recognise their uniforms. Almost.

She smacks the telescope into Isaac’s chest and he fumbles it for a second before finally getting a hold of it, and he calls out to (Y/N) but she can’t hear him. She can barely hear anything over the blood pumping through her ears, and she can barely focus on where she’s putting her feet as she climbs down. It isn’t until Will’s hands sharply grab her shoulders that she snaps back to what’s happening.

“Royal Navy,” she says.

Will’s brow furrows, “English?”

“Yes, English. Who else? Now we need to get on board-”

“No, you need to think this through.”

“I have! From what I can see every single man on that ship has bled out on the deck, and even if they haven’t any survivors are clearly outnumbered. Whoever attacked them in the first place is obviously long gone, so I need to know what they left behind.”

“If they killed everyone, then whoever did this would have taken any information they deemed important back with them.”

“Exactly, it’s fair game for whatever is left.”

“(Y/N), what’re you gonna find that the men who run this ocean didn’t?”

She lets out a humourless laugh, “William, I run this ocean and men are idiots who never look beyond what they need at that very moment. I can guarantee you there is something important and that ship that they left behind.”

(Y/N) whips away from Will, her long hair flicking him in the face as she does, and she whistles to gain attention of her men.

“Get the hooks and nets ready, we’re boarding that ship.”

The crew had no problems boarding the navy ship, considering there was no one firing at them like they were used to. None of the men were ready for the state of it though, the bodies and the blood and the smell. (Y/N) did her best to hide her sorrow for the fallen men she was stepping over, trying to keep up her callous facade.

“Go through everything!” She calls out, “see if there’s anything useful we can take.”

She makes her way to the captain’s quarters, a sigh of relief passing her lips when she opens the door to find the captain hadn’t been taken down in the room. She immediately begins sorting through the papers and ledgers scattered across the desk, finding some pages about the manifest of the ship. No serious weapons, but a fair amount of pistols; although she doubted the attackers would have left any of the guns behind.

(Y/N) spent almost an hour going through the documents, having turned away Will all three times he’d come to the door, but she was yet to find anything of interest. She huffed and pushed the papers to the floor in a childish manner before getting up from the chair and sitting on the desk. However she nearly fell off of it when she heard a noise from the cabinet to the side of the room, internally cursing herself out for not checking it when she entered.

Judging from the size of cabinet, which wasn’t overly small nor large, but definitely couldn’t fit a grown man inside, she was curious as to exactly what was inside. She cautiously stepped up to it and pulled one door open to peer inside only to be met with a small fist jabbing at her face. She pulled out of the way before it hit her and fell back as a small ginger haired boy tumbled out after her.

The pair sat on the floor gaping at each other, and breathing heavily from fright.

“You’re a lady.”

“You’re a fucking kid.”

They said at the same time.

“Why were you in there?” (Y/N) asked the boy.

“Hiding, got told to not come out until someone came to get me.” he answered quickly.

She frowned, “And how long have you been waiting?”

He just shrugs, wrapping his arms around himself and shivering a little. It’s not very cold so she knows he’s shaking from being scared.

“What’s your name?” she asks softly.

“Paddy.”

“Alright, Paddy, I’m gonna look after you okay? But I really need you to try to remember how long you were hiding for, even if it’s a guess.”

“A while. I think I fell asleep, I don’t know how long for.”

“Okay. Do you know someone attacked your ship?”

Tears fill the boy’s eyes and he brings his knees up to his chest and shoves his face into them, quiet sobs filling the room. (Y/N) clenches her fists in a small panic because she has no idea what to do with a crying child. She hadn’t even interacted with many people her own age. She slowly scooted closer to Paddy and put a hand on his shaking shoulder, before she could force out reassurance he launched himself into her lap. His tears now pouring onto her shoulder as he clung desperately onto her coat, it takes her a few seconds before she puts her arms around him. She got a little teary-eyed herself because, god, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d hugged someone, and here was this boy clinging to her like she was the only left in the world.

The moment was cut short when the door burst open, Isaac stumbling in from behind it.

“King, there’s another ship here. I-I don’t know how I missed it, but it’s coming up fast,” he says quickly.

Before she can answer Paddy lets go of her and frantically moves away from her, eyes wide.

“K-king? As- as in the king of the ocean, the most ruthless pirate out of Nassau?” the boy stutters.

There’s a flash of pride (Y/N) feels for herself, because she’s evidently a myth spread across the ocean to England. She’d somehow got not only the men in Nassau to fear her but men in England and possibly other countries in Europe too. But the prideful feeling doesn’t last long, because this boy is now looking at her with utter dread.

“Di-did you attack the ship? Are you gonna hurt me too?” Paddy sobs, not looking away from her.

“Isaac, out. I’ll be up in a minute.” She commands

“But what about-”

“Out!”

Paddy flinches when the door slams shut and wipes his face quickly with both hands. (Y/N) goes to move near him but he presses his back into the wall and tries to keep back from her so she stops, holding her hands up in a surrender gesture.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, sweetheart, and I promise I didn’t attack your ship.”

“They say no one survives you,” he whispers.

She dares to let a smile twitch on her lips, “If no one survived me, there would be no stories. And now you’re gonna get your own story to tell.”

He smiles the tiniest bit, but it’s enough.

“Do you make it quick?” he asks.

“Do I make what quick?” she responds.

“I could hear screams for hours when the ship was attacked-”

“No, I make it quick.”

She didn’t want to hear how this poor kid just survived a traumatising event, she didn’t need anything to help paint a picture of her entering the very room they sat in only to find his body in there.

“Maybe you’re a good pirate, but nobody back home believes in that so they say you’re the baddest instead.”

(Y/N) scoffs, “I don’t think there’s such a thing as a good pirate.” A lone tear escapes her eye, Paddy wipes it from her cheek before she could even lift her hand.

A knock at the door breaks their moment, and she calls for the person to enter. It’s Will, who’s expression she misses because it contorts to a mix of shock and confusion upon seeing Paddy.

“Who the fuck is that?”

“None of your business, what do you want?” She questions.

Will’s face turns to worry, “Yeah that other ship thats coming up, it’s Royal Navy. And it’s too late to try and get away.”

“Fuck, they’re gonna think we did this.”

“I know.”

“What do we do?”

“Looking to you, King.”

She practically growls as she gets off the floor and storms to the door.

“Wait! My brother might be on that ship, promise you won’t hurt him.” Paddy pleads.

Will raises his eyebrows, as (Y/N) turns back to look at Paddy, her whole face softening for a second.

“Promise. As long as you stay in here until I come back and you okay?”

The boy nods and she heads out, Will following closely behind.

Out on the deck she can see the arriving navy ship approaching, in any other situation she’d be happy to fight but not now. Not with the promise she made to the kid and not with him on the ship period.

“Surrender, let them board. No one draws a weapon unless I do first or I tell you otherwise, understand?” she shouts.

A chorus of “yes, king” sounds across the ship. Some men get to waving the white flag of surrender while she climbs back up to Isaac’s platform.

“Go down, I want to watch from up here, I’ll come down when the moment’s right,” she instructs, and he listens without a word, climbing down in silence.

She waits until she can hear the navy men climbing across until she looks down, her eyes drawn to a young man with blonde hair who appears to be leading the men. He looks horrified by the bodies, as does all the newcomers. He draws his sword and holds it to Will’s throat, who holds his hands up, asking what happened. She knows Will will answer with the truth, not that lying and taking credit for this massacre would do them any good.

“WHERE IS HE?”

Her eyes snap to where the anger filled question came from and she nearly falls off the platform. A brown haired man jumps off the edge of the ship, storming up to Will with his sword drawn and holds it to his throat beside the blonde’s.

“Where’s who?” She hears Will ask with genuine confusion.

But she can’t move her eyes from the other man. She can’t bring herself to move anything, she even forgets to breathe for half a minute.

Because she’s remembering being caught taking lingering gazes at him.

She’s remembering how he looked under the orange glow of the sunset.

She’s remembering the blush that covered his cheeks the first time she saw him.

She’s remembering holding his face in her hands and kissing him.

His words snap her back to the present.

“Where the fuck is my brother?”

And suddenly the pieces fit together. (Y/N) realises Tom is the brother Paddy was talking about, just now realising the royal attire the boy had been wearing.

“Tell me where he is or I’ll end you right here in front of your crew,” Tom warns Will, who merely chuckles.

“Not my crew, mate.”

Tom frowns, sword dropping a little bit, “who’s your captain?”

(Y/N) grasps the loose rope and jumps from the platform, sliding down the rope and landing beside Will. Tom, the blonde, and the other Englishmen look at her in bewilderment, Tom’s stare a little more curious than the others. She can tell he doesn’t entirely remember her like she does him. Tom opens his mouth but she’s faster.

“I heard you were asking for Paddy?”

Tom growls, moving his sword to her throat, pressing it against her skin slightly.

“Where is he? And who’s your captain?” Tom demands once more.

“Tom, stop it! She’s the king of the ocean!” Paddy’s voice shouts from somewhere out of her vision.

Fuck.

Tom’s expression changes again, to something (Y/N) can’t quite decipher, his sword drops from her neck and she steps back. Paddy bumps her side as he tries to walk to Tom but she grabs his shoulder to stop him, he looks at her quizzically.

“I’m sorry,” she mouths to him, before drawing her dagger and squatting beside him, blade at his throat.

Tom and the blonde man point their weapons at her and take a step forward, she steps back, dragging Paddy with her.

“Uh, uh, no closer,” she says.

“How does a woman come to be king of anything?” the blonde asks.

“By killing men like you,” she answers.

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Harrison, stop it,” Tom hisses, finally giving a name for the blonde man. “What’s it going to take for you to leave my brother alone?”

(Y/N) thinks for a second, having to literally come up with an answer on the spot. She doesn’t want to be silent for too long but nothing is coming to mind that she could get from Tom, of his country. But then it hits her.

“Pardon for me and the crew of the Galleon in the eyes of the English Crown,” she proposes.

“Done.” Tom replies without hesitation.

“Thomas, no,” Harrison says, “you don’t have the authority-”

“You aren’t apart of this negotiation,” she tells him with a fake smile.

Tom groans, “No, he’s right. I don’t have the power to grant pardons.”

“Well we have a lot to negotiate, then do we not? Let’s take this somewhere a little more private.” (Y/N) offers.

She gently nudges Paddy over to Will, and pushing up on her toes to whisper in his ear.

“Be careful, and please don’t actually hurt him,” she instructs.

Will nods, and she turns back to Tom, gesturing towards the captain’s quarters.

“Shall we?”

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[inkstaineddove]

The von Katte Affair

Characters: Prussia

Summary: Gilbert stood besides Frederick, staring out into the courtyard of Kustrin. Neither of them wanted to be there. Neither of them wanted to see this. Neither of them should've seen this.

It was the first time either of them had wanted to die.

Potsdam, 1730 Two sets of black toed boots clipped through the halls of the plainly decorated palace. The shorter of the two men talked animatedly about the state of the military. The taller one nodded along, only half paying attention since he'd heard this speech yesterday. They were making their way towards the garden to watch one of the regiments run through its drills when a courtier stopped them. "Your majesty! Your majesty! I bring grave news from the border!" He skidded to a halt before the two men, almost crashing into the albino. Frederick William assessed the courtier with annoyance. "What is it? Out with it, I don't have all day."

"His royal highness, the crown prince, he's fled for England. He was seized on the border with France with another officer. I believe he goes by the name of von Katte." The king's jaw tightened. He turned around, facing away from everyone else. "What’s been done with them?" "They're being detained in Kustrin while awaiting your orders." He spun back around, hitting the courtier in the knees with his cane, forcing the young man to come crashing down onto the floor. "Are you a fucking idiot? What do you expect me to do? Two of my officers committing treason, one of them my own son? I want their heads and those of anyone else who acted alongside them!" He kicked the courtier until the man scrambled up. "Do you understand? I will not be made the laughing stock of Europe over this! My own fucking son...I want his head mounted on a pike and paraded through Berlin! Are my orders clear enough?" The courtier didn't answer. Instead, he ran back in the direction in which he came. Frederick William huffed. "I should've drowned that boy in the Rhine the day he was born. He's been nothing but a nuisance. Gilbert," He looked at the nation besides him. "Go to Kustrin. This was a slight against you as well. You're the only one I can rely on to make sure my will is carried out. Now get out of my sight." The king stalked off into the gardens, ready to yell at any soldier who was so much as a fraction of a step out of line. Gilbert sighed. The king had a point - the crown prince had been trouble for quite some time. He'd been moody and trying to eschew all his duties to play flute and read instead. Gilbert could understand that. He remembered when he was a young nation and enjoyed pissing off his father. Annoying Germania was his favorite past time if he wasn't pestering Hungary or Poland. This went beyond adolescent antagonism. The king was right, this was high treason and he'd make sure Frederick would understand that whether it was the last thing he did. --- "Don't play dumb with me, Fritz. You almost got into France. There were obviously more people who helped you out. I'm not an idiot." Gilbert made his way toward where Frederick was seated. He moved with the carelessness of a cat, acting uninterested in the whole interrogation. "I know I act like one, but I'm not. I'm more intelligent than you're giving me credit for. I know a lie when I hear one." "I was the only one who did anything. Katte followed only in an effort to stop me. He was trying to do the right thing and doesn't deserve the punishment you barbarians are giving him! I acted alone and got that far all on my own! See, Gilbert, I'm not nearly as incompetent as you and father would like to believe just because I don't get off from hunting dumb fucking animals and doing all that stupid military shit just to suck Austria's dick." Prussia turned around and pretended to be shocked. "Wow. Those are some very strong sentiments coming from his royal highness. Care to recant?" "Fuck you, you red-eyed freak." "That's what I thought. Alright, we'll go back to playing your game." Gilbert picked up the cane that was resting by the door. Without a word, he walked behind Frederick, making sure to be out of the other's vision. He waited till he saw the teen tense up. Then Gilbert started beating the crown prince in the back with it, releasing all the frustration he was feeling about the whole situation. "That's three for lying again, one for calling your countrymen barbarians, four for insulting the king, one for not referring to him correctly, and five because I'm sucking dick to not go into another thirty year war and sucking that dick got me this kingdom that you don't seem to care about. And here's two more because I can." When he was done, he went back around so Frederick could see him. He let the cane drop to the floor and watched the child who would be his next boss. The crown prince had bit his lip so hard that he'd cut through. Gilbert watched the blood drip down Frederick's chin and felt his hand twitch. At this point, he was no longer sure if it was to wipe it away or to slap him. When Frederick looked up, he had some tears in his eyes that, thankfully, hadn't fallen. Gilbert ran a hand through his hair, sighing. "Fritz, there's an easy way of doing this. Just tell the truth. The king's tearing up Berlin and Potsdam, wanting me to get a confession out of you - regardless of the truth - then send you to your death. All this shit, this is a waste of fucking time. Do you want to die?" The crown prince didn't answer. A pit grew in his stomach, but Prussia forced himself to ignore it. He knelt in front of the crown prince so that they were at eye-level with each other. "Just give me the names. No judge in their right mind will sentence anyone who helped you to death. And, when you inherit the throne, you can pardon them! Everything's erased and life can continue. But, for now, I need the names." Frederick sighed. Gilbert could see the fight leaving the prince's body. "Fine. We'll try this your way. There were Katte and Keith, but Keith should be far away by now so please leave him be. Lieutenant von Spaen may have caught onto something, but kept his cards close to his chest." Gilbert nodded. He'd get a better statement later. The important thing was that he'd broken Frederick. The king's ministers could fight for the details that Frederick William wouldn't need to consider in his decision. "Danke. You can head back to your cell now. The real ministers will deal with you after lunch." He sighed and smiled, feeling a weight off his chest. "You're not a bad kid, Fritz. You're really not. You're just like you're father sometimes, blind to any perspective but your own." Frederick strained to get up out the chair. He wouldn't say anything, but his back was screaming in pain from the fresh marks on it. He stumbled to the door, stopping when he heard the last bit of what Gilbert said. "And you're a fucking neanderthal. We're not friends, Gilbert. We're not going to be." "I've told you this before, I can't disobey your father. He's my boss. If I had it my way, you would've been raised differently. All of you would've been." "And I've told you this before, I wish you'd die. What's your kind good for anyway? We're royalty. We've got plenty of mindless buffoons to carry out our every whim. We don't need morons that only take up space and resources." Frederick stomped out and slammed the door as hard as his body would allow him. Gilbert stood in the room, staring after him. It took a few minutes, but he finally laughed. "Kid, you think I haven't thought about that before? As if I'd actually want to live this kind of life." --- Gilbert stood besides Frederick, staring out into the courtyard of Kustrin. Neither of them wanted to be there. Neither of them wanted to see this. When Gilbert had delivered the verdict, he'd hoped Frederick would've yelled at him. If the crown prince would've showed him how he felt, he would’ve been able to deal. He'd always known how to deal with his anger. Instead, Frederick had broken down. Gilbert was forced to comfort the man as best he could. He hadn't held the prince in years, he hadn't let Gilbert get close enough once he figured out he was on the king's side. That was an hour ago. When Katte was brought out, Gilbert looked away. He didn't want to watch his crown prince's lover die. He didn't need to see this, why had he been ordered to watch as well? Frederick William would get an official report of how the event unfolded from some low-level guard who'd blow his paycheck at a pub afterwards. The king didn't need Gilbert's first-hand account, both would detail the same thing. He'd been in many battles before, seen many deaths, but the idea of this one made Gilbert nauseous. He started to walk away when Frederick grabbed his arm and stopped him. "You've followed all his other orders and you'll follow this one. We're both to suffer." The crown prince didn't look at him. His voice dropped to a pained, pleading whisper. "Don't force me to go through this alone to only spare yourself." Prussia sighed and turned back to the window. He watched Katte sing hymns and pray as he made his way towards them. He watched the dignity with which the young man approached death. He watched - maybe with tears, maybe with none - Frederick and Katte call out to each other, saying everything that had been left unsaid. He watched Katte's head roll to the floor was ease and the crown prince fall into his arms, unconscious. Gilbert watched. --- For the first days after the execution, all was not the same. The guards pretended to go about business as usual. They ignored the moans and screams from Frederick's cell. They tuned him out, made jokes that it was a ghost in the prison instead of the heir to the throne hallucinating and seeing his dead lover in the room with him. The few times that someone entered the room to bring him food or drink, the prince would repeat that Katte was there. Katte was there and he wanted Frederick to flee with him. Every time he tried to leave, he wouldn't be allowed to get through the wall and Katte would return for him, promising to never leave. Why wouldn't they let Frederick leave? The guards and ministers made an executive decision to omit this to Frederick William. For his part, Gilbert stayed away from Kustrin. He spent every hour in different pubs and churches throughout the town - unsure of whether drink or devotion would bring him salvation after this new crime. He couldn't get the images out of his head. He couldn't stop seeing Katte's eyes and Frederick's limp body. He couldn't shake the feeling that he'd failed somewhere along the way. He'd done exactly as he was told, but he'd still forced the worse outcome to happen. It was the first time Gilbert had wanted to die. A message from the king was the only thing that forced him to return back to Kustrin weeks later. He forced himself to smile at everyone he saw. He resisted the urge to ask the other ministers how they slept at night knowing that they all  helped the king satisfy an unnecessary bloodlust. How they could look at themselves in the mirror and not see the blood that was all over them. Prussia stopped in front of the prince's door. He was afraid of what state he'd find him in. He'd heard whispers of what he was like from workers at the prison who came to the pubs at night. He didn't expect to see a Frederick who was relatively put together, with eyes that weren't bloodshot, and his nose buried in some snooty French literature. The prince nodded at him, indicating that Gilbert had his full attention. "The king's pardoned you. You're not facing any punishment. All you've got to do is swear an oath of loyalty to your father and play by his rules." He was troubled by the distressed look on the prince's face. "That means you live. Come on, Fritz, you get a second chance. You're free." This made Frederick laugh. He carefully put his book down and regarded the nation before him. "But at what cost?"

[callmetippytumbles]

Home, A TRR Fanfic Series, Part 6 (Liam x MC)

Tippy’s note: Here is Part 6 of the series.  Now everybody is in the same space and forced to interact.  With so many strong personalities in one small space, things can be unpredictable.  Once again, I saw their interactions going one way, everyone was like “Nah, Tippy.  Don’t do me.”  So they ended feeling the way I wanted them to feel but took their own journey to get there. 

After this part, there are two more parts to the story.  It’s winding down.

Disclaimer: Choices owns this and I do not.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5(1) | Part 5(2)

Words Counted: 5,311 Rating: PG-13 Pairing: Liam x MC (Halle), endgame

Tags:  @youwontlikewherewewillgo  @sleeplessescapades  @jasoncrouse @lizzybeth1986  @hopefulmoonobject @ayo-minty-jess   @flyawayblue56 @drakewalkerwhipped  @drakelover78  @umccall71 @writtenbycandy   @mfackenthal  @zilch3 @lynn1214  @crazyovertheroyalromance  

Summary: Liam’s arrival brings more tension and less resolution, and jerk crab legs are consumed.

Liam looked at Halle.  She looked the same, relaxed even.  At least she was until she saw him.  He wanted to immediately go to her and wrap her in his arms, but he held back.  He was used to feeling several pairs of eyes on him at once and not being too overwhelmed by it, but this time was different.  Maybe it was because he was with her family and not the same nobles and press that have been following him his whole life. Perhaps it was also because he cared about what Halle and her family thought of him more than the court or the press.

“Halle, are you just going to stand there with your mouth open like the jaw of the singing bass?” Joanne said breaking the silence.  “That man traveled a long way to see you.  The least you can do is say hello.”

She took a few silent steps towards him.  Her mouth moved, but no words came out.  Liam didn’t need any nor did her have any to offer her in return.  He closed the distance between them and hugged her tightly.  The tension that he felt melted away as her curls tickled his neck.  Halle relaxed in his arms inhaling his familiar scent that was part fancy cologne, part Liam.  

Harrold coughed loudly to remind them that they were not alone.  The couple separated.

Finding her words again, Halle spoke.  “Liam?  What are you doing here?”

“You left so distraughtly, I was worried.  I wanted to see you.”

He didn’t add that he needed her and wanted her to come home.  Liam couldn’t decide if he withheld that thought because he didn’t want to overwhelm her or because he wasn’t ready to hear her say that she was leaving him for good.

“I missed you too.”

“Why did you leave?”

Halle paused trying to find the words, “It’s... hard to explain.”

Before Liam could press for more, Joanne interrupted him.  

“Halle, where are your manners?  While you may know this man, some of us would like to be introduced.”  She held her hand up pausing feeble explanations her daughter wasn’t going to give.  “No matter, I will introduce myself.”

She moved her straight steely locks away from her face as she glided over to Liam and outstretched her hand.

“Hello, I am Joanne Berry.  I see that you have met my husband, Harrold.”

He looked at the older woman and saw where a great deal of Halle’s “spirit” came from.  Liam paused contemplating whether he should shake her hand or kiss it.  He decided to go with the safer option lest he incurs more of Harrold’s ire by being perceived as being too forward with his wife.  

“Hello, I am Liam.  Halle’s fiance.”

“Welcome, Your Majesty,” Joanne said, gently taking his hands in her own.  “I hope you are staying for dinner.”

“I do not want to impose.”

“I wouldn’t hear of it.  I hope you like spicy.  I am making jerk crab.”

Liam smiled.  “I would be honored.”

“‘You would be honored.’” Joanne turned to her daughter.  “See Halle, some people still have decorum.  You should pick that up.”

Joanne quickly introduced herself to Bastien and Mara before she picked up the bags she and Rhon dropped and then went to the kitchen.  Liam’s eyes followed Joanne and fell on the young man that entered with her who was now standing next to Halle.  He instantly recognized him from the picture on the TV stand.  The young man was taller than he appeared and has built some muscle over time. Liam walked over to him and introduced himself.

“Hello.  Are you a friend of Halle’s?” He extended his hand for a handshake.

“You could say that.  We were very close when we were younger.  Less so now.”  Rhon gave him a cautious but firm shake.

Rhon was still taking Liam in as he spoke.  He always said that Halle should find a man that treated her like a queen when they were younger before they started dating.  He never thought Halle would actually find a literal king.  

He squinted his eyes as he continued to look at Liam.  

“You know, you look hella Asian for a Greek dude.”  

Halle gave Rhon a firm smack on the arm making him wince.

“Don’t mind him,” Halle apologized.

“What?  I thought all Greek dudes are white.”

“Oh.”  Liam shook his head.  “Don’t worry, it’s alright.  I can understand some of the confusion.  I am Cordonian, but my mother was born in Korea.  We do speak Greek in Cordonia.”

“I see.” Rhon nodded his head as the understanding came.  Liam’s small smile faded.

Honestly, he was a little taken aback by Rhon’s comment.  Liam hadn’t needed to address his ethnicity since he was younger.  At that time he had to offer an explanation why he didn’t look like his father the way that Leo did.  By the time he got older, most people he had encountered already knew or didn’t dare to ask, mostly the former.  

While Rhon and Liam looked at each other awkwardly, Halle walked over to her father.  She gave Bastien and Mara a small wave.  They both nodded in her direction.  

“How long has Liam been here?” She asked.

“For a while I guess.  Let’s get the crab in the kitchen with your mother.  You can do the interrogation while we do that.”

Halle nodded.  They walked outside.  The car was still unlocked so they could grab the cooler from the back.  

“So what did you and Liam talk about?” Halle asked as she pushed the cooler closer to Harrold’s side.

“Life, love, cotillions.  He was fixated on your cotillion photos.  He thought you were part of some kind of royal court.”

“I can see that.  Some parts of a cotillion are not unlike court life in Cordonia.  However, you and Liam were quiet when I entered.”

Harrold pulled the cooler from the back seat as he waited for his daughter to finish.

“What were you talking about?”

“Nothing for you to be too worried about.  I will admit that I have grievances with the boy--”

“Man,” Halle corrected.

“Man.  I took the opportunity to address them.  If you go back with him, it could be another decade before I see you again.”

Halle winced when her father reminded her that it has been a decade since they have spoken.  The guilt still fresh.  

“I have to take these chances as they come.”

“Grievances?  You don’t know Liam.”

“I know Liam long enough to know that he doesn’t know you.  Also, as much as I know you want to put certain things that happened to you in Cordonia behind you, you can’t ask a father to sit with that knowledge and hold that anger in.”

“Dad.”

“I’m not apologizing for a single thing I said to that young man.” Harrold firmly asserted.  “He needed to hear everything I had to say.”

“Just what did you have to say?”

“I told him that he didn’t know enough about you or your experiences as a Black Woman, an American Black Woman, to begin to appreciate the demands he places on you.”  

Harrold adjusted the weight of the cooler and headed towards the house.  

“You had the race talk with him?” Halle said as she closed the car door for her father.

“You didn’t.  He needs to know.  While I know that you are in Europe and they, don’t treat things like that the way we do here, but it’s worth having.”

“I know.  Did you have to scare him?”

“Yes.  I did have to scare him.” He imitated the way Halle said scared. 

“I scared him because I am scared for you.”  

Harrold put the cooler back down and sat atop it.  

“Dad?”

Her father took a deep breath as he looked at his only daughter.

“I love you so much, but I am terrified.  What would happen to you if you go back with him, live that life?  You would be exposing yourself to so much, and you would have little to no protection.  Monarchy isn’t a family, it's an institution. Institutions do not have room for nuance, acceptance, tolerance.  They aren’t designed to protect you.  They are designed to swallow you whole, suck out the marrow and spit you out.”

Halle’s head jerked back after he said the last few words.

“Liam and I could make it different.”

“If that is so, then why did you leave him?”

Halle sat down next to her father.  She knew her father wasn’t entirely wrong.  She already felt herself being lost to the Monarchy game.  This trip was a mad dash to grab the sense of self she had left.  All of her time in Cordonia was spent fighting to prove that she belonged as well as fighting for Liam.  If she was going to go back, Halle had to be ready to fight for herself.

“Look, I am worried that you can lose yourself trying to fit in and be who the institution wants you to be when what they need is who you are.  Who Liam is.”

Halle looked over to her father questioningly.

“I didn’t say that Liam is a terrible person.  He seems like a kind, thoughtful young man.  A 'love-is-enough' kind of man.  It’s not bad, but I have to ask how much does Liam love you if he doesn’t know you?  Or you him?”

“We know the stuff that counts.”

Harrold took another deep breath

“You say that now, but if you don’t know where they come from, how they are, what shapes them, what breaks them.  You don’t have the full picture.  Then you wake up in the bed married to a stranger wondering how you got there.”

Father and daughter eyes met.  

“You and Liam have the chance to fix that, but that means you both have to stop hiding and presenting only your best.  You marry for better or worse.  It’s in your best interest to find out worse is.”

Harrold stood up.  He extended his hand and helped Halle to stand.

“Let’s get this crab to your mother so that we do not get sent to Cordonian jail for letting the king starve.”

**** Liam excused himself to go to the bathroom upstairs.  He rinsed his face with cold water before leaving.  As he exited the bathroom, he noticed the sign on one of the doors. It was purple and pink and spelled out “Halle.”  He knew he should just go back downstairs but curiosity got the better of him and he opened the door.

The room was small. Liam wasn’t sure what to make of it. He knew it was Halle, but a different one.  His eyes were drawn to the duffle bag by her bed.  The bag she packed when she left. He looked away not wanting to revisit that night.  He instead looked at the trophies and medals that lined the other side of the room.

Lots of first place medals in swimming.  He thought back to the night after the beach party when Drake was still commiserating over Halle beating him at swimming. They both didn’t know at the time that Halle was an award-winning swimmer and Drake was defeated as soon as she accepted his challenge.

His eyes then wandered to her vanity where a few pictures lined her mirror.  There was a photo of Halle when she was very young.  She was in a clear blue ocean being held by Harrold.  Another photo was of her and Rhon.  They were under a big tree.  Halle was hugging him from behind.  Both of them had broad smiles.  

Liam’s eyes lingered on that photo.  It wasn’t because of Rhon, it was Halle’s smile.  He had never seen her smile so wide.  He thought he had seen her happiest and widest smile.  

Liam jumped when he heard a small knock. Halle entered the room.

“I see you took a detour after your bathroom break.”

“I–,” Liam stammered.

“No need to apologize Liam. If I had the opportunity to peek into your teenage bedroom, I probably would have taken the chance to look too.”

Liam shook his head.  “It wouldn’t have told you much.  I wasn’t exactly allowed to decorate like you have.”

“Oh.”

“I see that you were a gifted swimmer.”  He said gesturing to the medals lined up on the wall.

Halle glanced at the wall and shrugged.  

“I liked it. I was fast.  I have always liked the water.  Ever since I was little.  My dad would say that even as a baby I was always kicking as soon as I touched the water.”  Halle mimicked her rapid kicking with her hands and Liam chuckled.

“It wasn’t until he took me to a father-daughter swimming class designed for children under 3 that my father realized I was trying to swim.”

“You talk about it like you do not like it anymore.”

She audibly exhaled.  “I don’t like the competitive, performative aspect of it anymore.  I do still like to swim for me every now and then.”

Halle looked over to the medals on the wall.  Liam’s gaze was trained on her.  He waited to see a smile or some kind of expression that showed that she was proud of those medals.  It never came.

She shook her head, a soft smile growing on her face as she turned to her fiance.  

“Well, this is my childhood bedroom.  It’s no Royal Chambers but-”

“This was you.  I wish I could stay here longer.  Learn more about you.  Maybe read your journal.”

“You would have to find it to read it.”

“So there is one?”

“Halle!” Joanne beckoned from the kitchen.  “Come help me finish up dinner and make that salad dressing that you were talking about in the market.”

“Coming mother.”

Halle left Liam to meet her mother in the kitchen.  He kicked off his shoes and laid back in her bed.  He stared at her ceiling, wondering about the girl that slept her night after night.  The girl with a big bright smile that loved to swim.  How did she grow into the woman he loved now?

**** Halle helped her mother with the salad so she could put all of her energy towards the crab.  Harrold and Rhon caught up and talked about going through “the princess phase.”  

It wasn’t too long before everyone was called to the table to eat.  Liam sat down next to Bastien who was at the end of the table.  Halle had Liam on her right and Rhon on her left.  Joanne and Harrold sat across from them with Mara on the other end of the table.  Halle, her parents, and Rhon were standing.

Harrold coughed to get Liam’s attention. 

“Liam, in this house we say grace before we eat,” Harrold said sternly.  Rhon snickered to himself as Liam quickly stood, a flush on his face.  Bastien and Mara joined him.  

“Thank you.”  He turned to his wife and affectionately asked, “Joanie, would you like to do the honors?”

She pleasantly smiled, “Of course, my dear.”

Halle’s parents joined hands, and everyone followed suit.  Halle smiled as she grabbed Liam’s hand.  He brought Halle’s hand to his lips and gave it a small affectionate kiss.  Harrold scowled at the young man.  Rhon shook his head, happy to not be the undesirable in the Berry household.

“We thank you our heavenly father for this bounty that we are about to consume.  Please bless the hands that made it as well as those who are about to consume it.  Finally, please bless the manager at the Oceanaire Crab Company for allowing me to negotiate for the improved pricing on the crab and that no one has gotten arrested.  Amen.”

“Amen,” everyone repeated and then sat down to eat.  

The conversation flowed as crab-leg shells were piled in the middle of the table.  First, there was the conversation on the food.

“Mrs. Berry, these jerk crab legs are everything that Halle has said and more.  I can see why when they were on the menu there was nothing that could make her miss them.”

Liam frowned when Rhon said that.  Halle never told him about her mother’s jerk crab.  He smiled when he caught Halle’s eye.

“Yes, this preparation was exceptionally delicious,” Liam complemented.

“It’s not too spicy for you Liam?” Joanne asked.

“No, I can handle spicy foods and even enjoy them.”

“Well that’s good to hear Liam, Halle is a hothead and loves spicy food,” Rhon said.

“I have come to enjoy subtler flavors now,” Halle defended.

“Well you do usually ask for chili oil or flakes to be added to your ratatouille,” Liam added.

Halle glared at her fiance.

“Did I mention that this dressing on the salad reminds me of the dressing we have back in the palace.”

“That was Halle’s touch.”

Liam smiled at Halle.  The small reminder of home, their home, was nice for him.

The conversation naturally flowed into other topics from there.  Liam tried to get as much information as he could about Halle, but also her parents.  As much as Constantine and Regina would be Halle’s family, Joanne and the seemingly more hostile Harrold would be his.  He should at least get to know them.

“Mr. and Mrs. Berry, how did you meet?”

“Well,” Joanne started.  Halle and Rhon groaned in unison.  They have heard this story many times.

“Excuse the peanut gallery,” She shook her head at Halle and Rhon.  “It looks like they are up to their old tricks again.”

“I’m sorry Mrs. Berry.”

“We just both know the sorry so well.”

“It was 1975,” Rhon and Harrold said in unison.  Rhon doing a fairly accurate impression of the elder Berry.  Harrold’s voice dropped off as Rhon continued in character.

“The time of bell bottoms and Afro-Sheen commercials with the Frederick Douglass.  I was an Alpha at Howard University, the best HBCU there is.”

“HBCU?” Liam asked.

“That is Historically Black Colleges and Universities,” Halle clarified.

“I was walking with my Alpha brothers when I stopped at this table of the finest collection of Deltas.  There was this loud Delta arguing with this young brotha.  Giving him the full Riot Act.”

“Well, it was a bake sale for the Deltas to rent a nice banquet hall for the annual semi-formal,” Halle interrupted imitating Joanne.  

“He was trying to scam me and my sistren.  He wanted to get a dozen cookies for 1.50.  Half-price!”  Halle imitating her mother’s brand of outrage perfectly.  Liam laughed.  “I couldn’t allow it.”

“Of course, he tried to get forceful,” Rhon continued. “And I couldn’t stand by and let that happen.”

“You two seem to know it really well, do you just want to tell it?” Joanne interrupted.

“No.”

Harrold picked up the story where Rhon left off.

“I could not stand idly by and watch someone tear down a Black Woman in public,” Harrold said focusing his gaze on Liam.  “I wasn’t raised like that.”  

Liam gulped.  Harrold relaxed his face and continued telling the story.

“I had to intervene.  I walked up to that brotha and told him ‘these ladies have set their prices for a reason, so pay what they ask or leave.’  That brotha looked at me, and I gave him ‘the eye’ to let him know that I was not asking him, I was telling him.  He got my message and left.  I then apologized to the beautiful but feisty lady, and she got mad at me.”

“I didn’t need to be rescued.  I was handling the situation fine.”

“I bought all of the cookies from her that day and apologized.”

“It was the least he could do,” Joanne defended.

“Two weeks later, the Alphas were going to meet with the Deltas since we decided it would be better to pool our resources together on one really fancy formal than two okay ones.  The Alphas did not have as much funds as the Deltas, but we did have access to better vendors.  So we joined forces.  I was made the head of the committee for the Alphas and when it was time to meet with the Deltas to start planning and guess who came in the room?”

Joanne explained, “I was the chapter treasurer and co-chair for planning the event.  Harrold was there and gave me this big, goofy grin.”

“Joanne was as cold as ice.”

“I was not.”

“The joint planning committee was awful.  I would have these big ideas and Joanne, and her co-chair would shut them down.”

“Well, you did want to blow the whole budget on the location which would leave next to nothing for all other aspects of the formal.”

“I didn’t know it at the time, but Joanne was an accounting major and a math whizz.  It was why she was the Delta’s treasurer until she graduated.  Joanie was always good for staying on a budget.”

“The joint planning committee ended with nothing set in stone.  We could only agree that we needed to see some locations in person.  I was elected to go as the Delta representative,”

“I had a car, and I knew that we may need to venture outside the city, I offered to represent the Alphas.  From there we were spending more time together.”

“Over the course of planning, I started to find Harrold less... irritating and more endearing.”  Smiling at her husband.

“When Joanie wasn't stiff she was resourceful and caring.  Not to mention funny.”

Harrold draped his arm over his wife’s shoulder and pulled her chair closer.  Joanne rested her head on his shoulder.

“At the formal–which was an astonishing success.  It was lovely, just under budget, and we had a professional DJ from New York, and beef wellington was served as an entree. – Your father asked me to dance.”

“I just had to.  ‘Always and Forever’ was playing.”

Rhon hummed some of the notes to the song.  Halle joined in for the last few.

“We have been dancing to that song together ever since.  Even at our wedding in ‘79.”  Joanne sat back in her chair.  “Speaking of which, you and Halle must be in the thick of wedding planning now that you are engaged.”

“We are.  Our wedding is in just about two weeks.”

“Two weeks?  Halle.  You didn’t tell me that you were going to be married in two weeks.” Rhon said.

“I knew your wedding was soon,” Harrold added.  “I didn’t think it was that soon.”

The room fell silent.  Halle could see the heartbreak in her parents’ eyes when they realized that she could have gotten married and never told them.  At all.  She looked over at Rhon, and he was similarly stunned and hurt.

Joanne shook her head and took a breath.

“S-So, have you picked your colors yet?”

“Umm--”

“Blue and Gold,” Liam answered.  “There would be some red accents to represent Halle’s duchy of Valtoria.”

“Duchy?  Halle, you’re a Duchess?” Rhon asked.

“Yeah, I became one when Liam and I got engaged.  It’s something I am still adjusting to.”

“Yes, Halle’s official title is Halle, Duchess of Valtoria.”

“Is this going to be high profile?” Harrold asked.

“Obviously, Harry.  More important than that, is Michelle Obama going to be there?  I have always wanted to meet Michelle.  She could give you tips Halle.”

“Ahhhhh–”

“No, Michelle Obama wasn’t invited.–”  

“Well, I guess I could meet Barack.  We all know Michelle is the important one though.”

“We didn’t think they would be interested in attending.  Also, we had to move up our wedding date considerably.”

“Really?” Harrold leaned forward resting his arms on the table.  “Why would you do that?”

Joanne’s eyes went wide as she looked at her daughter.

“Halle Yvette Berry are you pregnant?”

“Mother–”

“Did you come here because you are having a pregnancy panic?  It’s perfectly normal to be worried about becoming a–”

“I am not pregnant!” Halle shouted.

Liam turned to Halle and shot her a look that asked, are you sure?

Halle mouthed not pregnant.

“If Halle isn’t with child, why the haste?” Joanne asked.

“It’s complicated,” Halle started.

“Not that complicated,” Liam interrupted.  “Cordonia as a country has seen some hard times these past few months.”

“Hard times?  That is the understatement of the year,” said Harrold.

“Since there has been so much that has happened we thought that our wedding could be a positive event for our people.”  Liam laced his fingers with Halle’s.  “A unifying moment for us, our families, and Cordonia.”

“So it’s just for show?” Rhon asked.  “A stunt.”

“Is this a political union?” Harrold asked.

“No, we love each other and want to get married.  Our wedding being sooner is just as good for Halle and I as it is for the country.  Right, Halle?”

Halle weakly nodded.  “Yeah.  We were going to get married either way.  We just wanted our wedding to help the country.”

Joanne furrowed her brow.  “How much of this wedding is royal and how much of this is about the two of you?”

“There will be plenty of personal touches to let the both of us shine through,” Liam reassured.

“Halle are you even part of the planning or does Liam suggest a few things and whisk himself away, if he even bothers to do that?”

“It’s not like that.”

“Halle has been an active part of the planning process, Mrs. Berry.”

“Really?  Halle, have you tried on your wedding dress?”

“Uhhh...” Halle kept her eyes on the table in front of her.

“Have you seen it?”

Halle didn’t offer an answer.

Joanne inhaled.

“I have to say, Halle, this is not how I imagined you jumping the broom.”  She paused as another thought came to her.  “Dare I ask if you will actually jump the broom?  I assume that will not be part of the program due to the nature of this function.”

“Well mother, Liam isn’t Black.”

Liam jerked his head back in offense.

“Halle, plenty of interracial couples jump the broom.” Harrold offered.

“I’m not sure if it’s right for us.”

Liam narrowed his eyes and looked at his fiance.  “Right for us or right for me?”

“Liam.”  Liam ran his fingers through his hair.

“Please excuse me,” he said before he got up and left the table.  

Liam swiftly walked through the front door and let it slam shut behind him.  The cool evening air hit his face.  He placed his hands on his hips and took a deep cleansing breath.  Shortly after that, he heard the door slam behind him.

“Care to tell me what that was about?” Halle said.

“What everything here has been about.  That I am not fit to be your husband.”

“That was not was that was about.”

“Really?”  His eyes widened in the darkness as his outrage consumed him.  

“Your father seemed to think quite differently.  He was quite explicit with his qualms.”  He started counting them off on his fingers.  “I can’t protect you, I don’t know you, or anything about courting a Black Woman.”

“Liam.  My father has doubts, but–.”

“He is not wrong, Halle.  I have failed to protect you.  I know nothing about courting a Black Woman.  Up until today, I thought I could at least say I know you.  I cannot even say that.”

“That’s not true.”

“I didn't even know that you were not born in New York.  Or that one of your favorite foods is your mother’s jerk crab.  Or that you used to swim competitively. I thought I was going to come here to assuage your fears about us.”

Liam’s eyes met hers.  “Your doubt in me.”

“My doubt isn’t in you Liam.”

He exploded.  “Then why are we here and not in Cordonia planning our wedding?  Why did you leave?”

Liam turned his back to her so she can not see the frustration.

Halle stepped back.  Everyone was asking if she was so happy with Liam, why did she leave.  She was scared of losing herself, but right now she was secure but her relationship wasn’t.  The panic that Halle felt when she left she saw in Liam’s eyes now.

“I left because I do feel like I am losing myself because I am trying so hard to fit into your world.  There is so much of me that is under scrutiny, and I have to change.  Even when I do, I am just asked to change and give up more.  At the end of all of that, I am still the American commoner.”

He turned to look at her again.  Her curls blew with the gentle night breeze.

“Liam, you are mad because my father expressed doubts about our relationship.  At least when my father had concerns, he waited until he could address you directly to your face.  Your father hid behind a fake-ass smile the entire time while he planned on having another man assault me.  He did that up until the night of your Coronation.”

Liam winced when Halle brought up his father’s part in the scandal.  

“You had a few people doubt you, tonight.  I have an entire nation that questions me.”

“I have never doubted you, Halle.”  He said, his voice becoming hoarse.  “I have always loved you.”

“Liam I love you, and I know you love me.  It’s just, sometimes when you look at me in awe I wonder if you are genuinely impressed with me or that you are surprised that a lowly, commoner waitress could do something other than take your order.”

Liam turned to leave, but turned back.”

“I see now.  You do think I don’t know you.”

He turned to leave towards his car.  Bastien and Mara quickly followed behind him.  Halle watched Liam’s car pull out of her driveway and go.  She stared into the empty street after that.  After a minute or two, she turned to enter the house.  Rhon and her parents were in the living room.  Their silence told her that they heard enough of the argument.  Halle didn’t want to discuss anything with them.  She ran up the stairs to her room.  She closed the door behind her and flung herself onto her childhood bed.  That when the few pieces that were holding her together gave way and sobbed into her pillow.

Part 7

[rsfannan4]

Day Sixteen and Seventeen: Through Marlow and Into Windsor.

Each morning, the first thing that you have to do on the boat is turn the engine on for about twenty minutes. This enables the hot water heater to heat enough water for showering and coffee. With eight people, you go through quite a lot of water. This morning, when I checked the water gauge, it was on empty so the first order of business was to find a water and dumping station somewhere close by. I took an early walk towards the town center only to find out that the closest water available was down river several locks away.

So we set out early on our voyage to Marlow. The water and dumping station described to us was not in service, so we pressed further finally finding one about an hour or so out of Henley. We used the dumping station as well and had a good laugh because the hose used to suck out the waste had a transparent part of the apparatus close to the end so you can see if the task has been completed. So, you actually watch everyone’s waste exiting the tube. There is a waste portal on each side of the boat, so one could, if one wished, compare the volume of waste for those whose bathrooms were on one side of the boat to those on the other. Taking on water takes a bit of time, so it was almost lunch time when we slid into Marlow.

Sadly, Carol will be leaving us in Marlow. Nothing to be alarmed at, however, as she is returning to spend the last couple of days with her family before returning to the states. Her daughter Becky drove down to pick her up, so we met her for lunch at a pub that she had picked. Another delightful lunch, before heading back to the boat to see Carol off. We will indeed miss her.

It was not East finding a spot to moor our boat in Marlow, but we finally found room a little bit south of town. Diane and I spent the afternoon relaxing on the boat with our books, while the rest of the group strolled about Marlow. We are getting somewhat close to the end of our trip so dinner consisted of eating as much of leftovers as we could. We again played a bit of ukulele and consumed our share and more of the gin and tonic, wine and beer.

We got an early start for our two hour cruise in Windsor. As we approached the town, the castle high on the hill in Windsor dominated the landscape. Finding a nice place to moor was a breeze, so we parked our house on the water and walked along the water for a full day visit to this wonderful city.

Settlements here date to ancient times, but the city of Windsor as we know it now, began around 1170 when William the Conqueror, not long after his victory in the Battle of Hastings in 1066, built a wood and stone castle on a raised mound, complete with a walled courtyard and a protective ditch or moat. At about the same time, the Windsor Bridge, which separates Windsor from Eton (one city on one side, and the other on the opposite side), was constructed.

Windsor had been a significant town for several centuries before the castle as we know it now was built between 1350 and 1368 under the reign of Edward III, the largest secular building project in England during the Middle Ages. Its prosperity skyrocketed from its close association with the royal household, with plenty of work for an expanding population. Although the Black Death reduced the population by up to 50% in some other towns, Windsor doubled in size. It was “boom” time and people came to Windsor from all parts of the kingdom and from continental Europe.

Our first stop was the castle itself. The seven of us bought our tickets and took the tour of this storied home of the queen. This is a must if you are ever in the area. I am not a big Royal Family guy, but this place is rather amazing. It is huge. It can be seen for miles around. (Regrettably, you cannot take any photographs inside). My favorites in the castle itself were the dining room, where they can seat up to 160 people for a formal dinner and Queen Mary’s Doll House.

The doll house is extraordinary. Each room is an exact miniature replica of the rooms in the castle, with lights that work, faucets that actually dispense water, even a flushable toilet with miniature lavatory paper. Other items include monogrammed linens, lifts (elevators) and a garage of cars with operational engines. The tiny books that line the library in this “house” were written by well known writers and bound in scale size by famous publishing houses. The tiny paintings and tapestries are actual copies of those adorning the rooms of the castle. Even the bottles in the wine cellar were filled with the appropriate wines and spirits. The curators must absolutely love their jobs taking care of this masterpiece.

The last stop on the castle tour is St. George’s Chapel. Built in the 14th century by Edward III, it was enlarged in the late 15th century. It is simply gorgeous. It has been the site of hundreds of Royal weddings, baptisms, and funerals. It is also the final resting place of many many royals, including King Henry VIII, Princess Margaret, Prince Philip, and on September 19th of this year, Elizabeth II. Diane and I have had the pleasure of this tour with several groups of friend and family, and it never ceases ti amaze us.

From here, we crossed the bridge into Eton to eat at a favorite restaurant of ours, Don Beni. We have eaten here twice before, and the food and service were terrific once again. So delightful to share a large table with good food and good friends. I had my standby favorite at Don Beni’s, the fettuccine carbonara. What seemed like a rather large portion went down easily, every speck of sauce consumed with gusto.

From here, we went to do some shopping at the new mall-like area near the train station. Diane and I went to the toy store inside of Daniel’s Department Store (a huge store with just about everything) to look at their LEGO department. I also struck up a conversation with an entrepreneur who had a small music store inside Daniel’s and we talked ukulele for a while. Ukuleles sales have surged in the U.K. as well as everywhere else and they make up a large percentage of this gentleman’s business.

Over a light dinner, stilled filled-up from our lunch, we again drank some gin and tonic (Carol, in her great wisdom, left us another bottle before she left), this time while playing a rousing game of Phase 10, a favorite card game of ours.

As our vacation winds down, we will find a place downstream to moor tomorrow before we turn in our boat the next day.

More to come…..

[kitwilsonsass]

Since I’ve been putting it off due to lingering sicky feels, etc.

Here’s the far too long and far too unedited and written at 4am vacation rundown NO ONE ASKED FOR! (huzzah!)

So, yeah. I arrived at the new Amtrak station in the city which is a major upgrade from the trailer park reject of station the old one was. Way roomier. Could use a coffee stand or something but yeah. Improvement. Had to go underground under the tracks and back up to get to the very cold surface, it must suck in the winter.

About an hour, hour and a half into the trip I quickly realized that a.) all I wanted to do was sleep, and b.) that my throat was burning. I assumed this was due to the absurdly cold, non-stop dry ass air conditioning, but no. This bitch got sick for her entire trip. On the plus side I had the seats to myself for the majority of the trip, but still. I barely watched any CR or anything because I was miserable the entire time. Ya don’t wanna be miserable for 10+ hours on a train.

Got to Boston, to @conniecorleone‘s frightening apartment stairs. My bag was way too heavy and she troopered through taking it up them for me without dying. So if you ever need a tank in battle, call Rachel.

Hung out a little. Ordered some Five Guys. Watched a couple episodes of the first season of American Horror Story. I get the appeal but also never needed to see Dermot Mulroney’s ass.

Rach was busy with work stuff a lot early in the week, not helped by some dumbass school shooting threat the week before and kept apologizing while still going above and beyond as a hostess while I just felt guilty for getting snot on her sheets.

Day two I colored a bit. I can do a wicked water gradient with erasable colored pencils, for the record. Hung out. Relaxed. Used a lot of Zicam and Advil. Then we were on way to The Middle East for her conehead space boyfriend.

We waited like, an hour? In the chilly mist outside? The show started like AN HOUR LATE after that. The venue was nice but man, the mood was getting close to dead at points, especially since, again, FUCKIN SICK. But Planet Booty came on and while, a little on the bordering too raunchy side, put on a fucking amazing live show. Dylan has an absurd amount of energy that should be bottled and sold, but if it were it might result in the orgypocalypse. I saw a youtube comment that said he’s ‘very touchy lol’ and truer words never spoken. That man will grind on you and sing directly in your earlobe with his tongue if you are front row and happily, I was not. Yet somehow I still ended up with his sweat on my sweater sleeve thanks to someone being a dumbass and high fiving him after their set and not being able to handle the consequences. Ahem.

THEN TWRP TOOK LIKE ANOTHER GODDAMN HALF HOUR???

But I FORGIVE THEM because they were GREAT and played Daft Punk’s Celebrate in honor of motherfuckin Canadian Thanksgiving so... fine... I guess. My only complaint is they didn’t do The Perfect Product even though I get that’s probably a weird thing to do live. Also minimal keytar and Sung almost decapitated himself but you know... it happens. They DID do Tactile Sensation though which is a fucking jam. And Atomic Karate, ofc. And Meouch broke his fucking bass string which is like? Fucking hardcore? He came down like a foot away from us at one point. It was dope. They’re amazing live and have no right to be for dudes in ridiculous robot costumes playing synth in the year 2018 and rolling around stage on a hoverboard. Sadly I brought minimal memory cardage this year and didn’t get a lot of good video of them.

Afterwards, despite *someone* almost passing out, we hung out in the merch lines and did NOT accidentally cut ahead this time. I got a free signed poster because it was my birthday vacation ayyyyy and bought a couple EPs and the Together Through Time album. Then hopped over the PB’s line and got two hugs from Dylan who hung out and talked to/hugged/got selfies with every single person who got into line there and just? Good dude. Pure dude. Awful stache but... thumbs up human being. I got their Naked album and we headed out back to the apartment and some delivered Dominos (which was the only good Dominos I’ve ever had in my life.)

Day three I accidentally slept until like 4pm. Literally what else did we do that day? I cannot remember for the life of me. We might have went to Dunkin at like 9pm and she showed me a weird omnipotent plastic ear hanging on an electric wire? Was that this day? I have no fucking idea. Her Netflix and supply of Puffs tissues were my best friends this trip okay.

Day four she went to class and I relaxed and intended to walk to the mall. Unfortunately, my sick bleh hit and I didn’t feel up to going until about ten minutes before she got back. So we ended up heading over there together. I made her try Baja Blast, as is customary in my nation, and got her to try some green matte lipstick. Success. I was highkey hoping they would have a Build-A-Bear in the joint but they didn’t. They did have a Newbury though, that had the six-inch Roadhog pop which I’ve had a hard time finding locally, so I said fuck it and bought it.

That night was MST3k live! The theater was old as dirt. The kind of old as dirt where the flooring is bowing in. They had real strict rules on cameras and shit, which I get for the sake of spoilers but c’mon.... c’mon. Their merch sucked unfortunately though, so I didn’t waste any money on anything (for some reason they had 2017 tour stuff? It’s... not 2017?). The show itself was good, though I was wondering before it started how sick they must get of doing the same movie in different towns almost every other night. Pretty quickly realized oh, yeah, a lot of this show was likely pre-riffed. They did pull a kid from the stage at one point so he could guest riff off a script from Joel, which I’m thinking was a clever little insert fraction of the riff they did live between segments. I could be wrong, but on that front, it felt a little cheap. But it was still fun to see the boys and the bots live and have jokes cracked about not being able to afford the villains for the tour. And The Brain itself was........ I don’t know what I was expecting but..... it sure was.... something. The novelty was worth it and I will still gladly marry Crow T. Robot.

We went across the street to a little pub stop that was I think called Rock Bottom after that and got some much needed late night food. For some reason my brain was like “man, I could go for chicken fried steak right now” and don’t you know IT WAS ON THE FUCKIN MENU? WITH GARLIC CHEDDER MASHED POTATOES? Boston, much like with wings, does not know what country gravy is, but it was still everything I fucking wanted and did not expect to find, so A+. Also I was wearing a dress with shorts underneath it and stuck to the goddamn stool. Such is life.

Day five was rainy and miserable. I tagged along to university with Rach and it sucked, honestly. Being on a campus makes me feel awkward and the whole still being sick thing didn’t help. I ended up taking a walk way around the block to a Starbucks and getting the worst fucking frap I’ve ever paid too much money for. Went back around. Sat in the library. Felt even shittier. Started googling food places. Yard House wasn’t far but I didn’t want to deal with crossing a lot of traffic, especially if the rain started back up (it did, with a vengeance). So I ended up back around the block at some Olive Garden-esque fake Italian place with not an Italian in sight called Bertucci’s for some bland chicken-less fettuchini alfredo (because, as I’d reasoned with myself, I had chicken three times the day before). It was dimly lit, I had a booth to myself, and the water had the sweet skullet and braided beard combo I had liveblogged. People kept complimenting my tattoo. It was nice and no one seemed overly bothered that I was clearly killing time until I spent probably way too long in the restroom after trying to look alive. I tipped the dude ten bucks and left in the pouring rain with my umbrella.

From her school we took the world’s longest Uber to Parts Fucking Unknown in awful traffic and rain to find a Double Tree where @freakishlytallaustralian‘s parents were staying for a hot minute during their brief little US tour on their way to Europe. I’ve never met Mandi in person, but I’ve now met her parents who say she’s gotten to know a good bloke. She looks exactly like her mom. They were sweet. Anxious but sweet. And I am a freak who doesn’t talk and was sick trying to seem presentable at the bare minimum capacity.

Back ~home~ we ordered some JP Licks ice cream (BROWNIE BROWNIE BATTER!!! BROWNIE. BROWNIE. BATTER.), I watched CR and some stupid videos on the internet with her. Got some sleep. Sort of. Barely.

Despite Matt Mercer nearly succeeding at lulling me to sleep and eating my dreams, it didn’t happen, and I could not get comfortable for the life of me. The “coughing every five seconds in bed” started this night and was not having mercy. So I opted out of another day of hanging around campus to try and get some more rest. It didn’t really work, but I did eventually get a solid three hours or so, so it was something.

As the day progressed it was onward to the Science Museum to meet Ron the T-Rex. There was a wedding happening. How appropriate, for Bravier funko pops to have come along on the day of a blessed union. Coincidence? I think not. A turtle kept falling off a branch when he was trying to nap. There was some space stuff. It wasn’t great. But I got a little stuffed dinosaur and that’s Important.

From there we hit up the same movie theater we went to the year before and saw Bad Times At The El Royale. Do recommend. Chris Hemsworth as a Charles Manson was not something I ever thought I’d see, and I still don’t understand it, but it rather predictably works for me, so we’ll leave it at that. Good movie, good performances, good pacing and editing that could have easily not been. See it, it’s fun. Not perfect, but fun.

It was COLD AS BALLS after the movie and neither of us brought jackets or sweaters, so the walk to the train station and back ~home~ was a chilly one. We stopped in, got some warmth, and headed down the road past her old place to a bar. If we didn’t appreciate TWRP and PB enough already, the band she had to pay cover for us to get in for just to pick up food were about 8 upper middle aged men playing every instrument in the book. Afropunk, they said. No, we said. Offkey, we said. This place was dark as shit and loud as shit but you know what? They KNEW WHAT REAL, HOT CHICKEN WINGS WERE and for that, I am appreciative dammit.

Went back, got some more Dominos, and was finally introduced to John Mulaney’s (or two of) comedy specials. He’s genius and I *understand* it now, tumblr. I get it. We ate way too much and did my laundry.

The week had come and gone way too soon and I felt robbed of my good time by how shitty I felt. Hopping on the train the next day (after a godawful uber ride) was just as depressing as the time before. And even though I didn’t feel as miserable as the trip there, and once again had a window seat to myself, I found myself curled up against my hoodie crying trying to fall asleep again knowing I was already headed back home.

Once the initial depression passed, the trip wasn’t bad. The iced latte was good. The Albany stop not as confusing the second time around. The WiFi kept me company. Eventually my aunt texted me asking if I wanted to hit up Stevie T’s on the way home because they were 24hr and neither of us had eaten all night. It was a plan. Get off, get food, come home, faceplant on my own big comfy bed, vow to deal with my dad’s drama in the morning and call it a night.

Then *that* happened. Yeah. Last year? Every stop, regardless of time of night, they made announcements. They came by, checked the marker above your seat, and if you were due off at the next stop told you it was coming up, would help with luggage if needed, and directed you to the correct door to exit the train. This year? Nothing. They decided to stop making announcements right before the Rochester stop, and no one came by in our car to tell us where to get off. Stopped, myself and the other person due off at that stop, a late-teens girl, went to the door at the front of our car where every other stop had gotten off before us. We assumed since no one said differently, and no attendants were around, that must be it. We were idiots. Because by the time we realized hey, they’re not going to open this door and we should go to the far other end of the train, it was already moving again en route to Buffalo.

We found ourselves in the dining booths by the cafe car while the staff made vague remarks and the conductor acted like it wasn’t his problem. My aunt on the phone talked to the Rochester station, we tried to claim I didn’t even have a reservation until about two other people looked up my ticket. They said it was up to the conductor to get us a cab home, he laughed at us, claimed to know nothing about any of that, and asked if were were going to buy the bus tickets the other girl was looking up. The bus for 3am, in downtown Buffalo, nowhere near the station. When we got off the staff at the Depew station was a lot more sympathetic, and said since nothing else was being offered he would put us on the next train back home, but since it was a Sunday morning there was no train to Rochester until roughly 7:45am. It was about 1:30 at this point. I felt awful for encouraging the other girl not to pay for two ubers and a bus ticket with the only alternative being offered to sit alone in an empty, unstaffed station in the middle of the night for hours. And between the situation, being tired and still sick, and dealing with my aunt calling hotels only to get put on hold and lose the room she was trying to reserve - I put my bags in a corner, found the restroom, and had a panic attack. I don’t know why, but those tend to be stupid like that. It’s not even like I was scared, or confused, or that worried myself. I started out very ‘whatever, I’ll just get a room or stay in the station, I’m pissed but whatever’. But something about the constant calls and texts and my battery nearing 0 had me stressed and I was crying like a bitch. I just wanted to fucking sleep, and I knew that wouldn’t happen in a train station with nothing but some benches, a restroom, and a vending machine.

Rach suggested an alternative I felt guilty about taking but ended up going for: Get to her parents house just outside Buffalo, get their spare key, and sleep on their couch while they’re out of town with their blessing. So I called an Uber, and the first one passed me by, with the gps fucking up and saying I should be picked up ON THE TRAIN TRACKS. The second guy was smart enough to come to the cab pickup out front and was really cool. He said he was just thankful I wasn’t a fucked up drunk college party kid and the first all night. He didn’t comment on how I probably definitely looked like I’d just been broken up with in the world’s worst romcom. It was over 20 bucks and I tipped him the max. Found my way inside, set up the couch, and continued my momentarily on hold panic until I eventually passed out. My Aunt came to pick me up in the morning, I got carsick, we had mediocre diner breakfast and what’s after that isn’t news worth talking about. Isn’t it bad enough the tail end of the trip took up like a third of this post?

All in all... it felt like a disaster. I’m not gonna lie. In weird ways the stars aligned that TWRP would end up on Conan the night of their show and have to reschedule to the day I came to town, but I paid for it with otherwise bad timing and my body deciding against me having a good time. Fun was had, don’t get me wrong. The good was good and any chance to get away from... this, is appreciated, but it just seemed like everything went awry. 

Mucho thanks to @conniecorleone again, for letting me crash on the futon and be my usual bland self, even blander while ill, and also buying me expensive cold syrup and a-many ubers.

We’ll see if Massachusetts and I ever cross paths again.