#i loved when brennan said and we never stop blowing up and they never stopped blowing up all over the president | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jq37 · 5 years ago

Text

The Royal Report– A Crown of Candy Ep 1

There Is Strength in Sweetness

Much like the years, the seasons of D20 start coming and they don’t stop coming. Fantasy High: Sophomore Year is barely in the record books and we’re already jumping into our new season--the Game of Thrones/Candyland mashup: A Crown of Candy!

If y’all have been with me since Sophomore Year then you know that I did very in depth recaps of every episode with a very specific format but I’m gonna try something new for this season.

The format might change a little between episodes as I figure out what works best so bear with me but the plan is to do more highlights and opinions than a blow by blow. But, like, we’ll see what happens.

So, anyway, saddle up your Meep and let’s visit Candia--one of the six kingdoms of the land of Calorum (aka: a fridge. We see you Brennan, it’s a fridge). Twenty years ago, the Ravening Wars wreaked havoc but they’re currently in a time of peace which (mostly) everybody is psyched about.

Meet the Family

This is not a new observation but, while most seasons of Fantasy High focus on found family, this season is all about family-family, specifically, the royal family of Candia and their associates.

We’re first introduced to Murph’s character--Sir Theobald Gumbar (Level 3 Eldritch Knight)--who is the a huge, golden-armored, gummy bear, leader of the Tartguard, protector of the royal family, and the logical endpoint of Murph’s lawful good predilections. Sir Theo is, of course, on time with bells on for the big Saint’s Day/Coming of Age birthday party for the twin princesses of House Rocks. Unfortunately, he’s clearly never seen The Little Mermaid because when the heralds announce the princesses, they don’t show up. Frustrated, he goes to try and find them.

The first place he checks is with Zac’s character, Chancellor Lapin Cadbury (Level 3 Celestial Warlock). He is (in no particular order) the royal tutor, a chocolate bunny, an official of the main state sanctioned church of Calorum (the Bulbian Church), and a pompous ass. Oh, one more thing? He and Theobald can’t stand each other. There is nothing funnier than two very proper grown men who hate each other's guts. Sir Theo shows up to his classroom where the princesses are having a lesson--or at least they’re supposed to be. Further inspection shows that they’ve just left two straw dummies in their place. Classic.

So, we pan out to the city to meet my favorite characters so far (I absolutely play favorites but I also disclose when I’m doing it so I think I’m in the clear) the twin princesses/chaos gremlins--Jet and Ruby Rocks (both level 1 Rogues) played by Emily and Siobhan. Theo may not have seen The Little Mermaid but the twins have def seen Aladdin, because their number one pastime seems to be escaping the palace to roam the city--hilariously illustrated when they chuck a gem into a peasant's bag and his reaction is a super nonplussed, “Guess the princesses escaped again.” They’re got the Disney Princess-itis really bad because both of them feel stifled by palace life and want more--specifically, Jet wants to be a warrior and resents having been born in peacetime (especially since she’s slightly older and in line for the throne) and Ruby wants to run off and join the circus as an acrobat. They are total twin BFFs to the point that their Thieves Cant has been reskinned to Twinspeak which is a detail I love so much (and that will become unspeakably tragic if something happens to one of them Brennan).

Jet gets a letter from her secret crush Thad, an Avocado from Fructera (these are the sentences I am being forced to write this season folks) and schemes with Ruby about how they can get to Comida (the capital city) to meet him--possibly by sweet talking Theobald which is easy because he’s so thirsty for respect. Sure enough, Theobald and Lapin soon find them, following their path of destruction and the princesses are brought back to the castle.

Back at the castle, we’re introduced to Lou’s character--King Amethar Rocks (Level 3 Storm Herald Barbarian)--who is having a somber moment, surrounded by the statues of his four older sisters who died in the Ravening Wars, leading his reluctant taking of the throne. He’s interrupted by Lord Calroy (his right hand guy and a full ass talking slice of cake because Brennan is trying to break me this season but I refuse to give him the satisfaction) who lets him know that his daughters have escaped and his delighted reaction immediately lets us know which side of the family they take after.

Finally (at least wrt PCs), we meet Ally’s character--Liam Wilhelmina of House Jawbreaker (Level 2 Ranger) who is a political prisoner/ward of House Rocks and a soft, outdoorsy, mountain kid who is perpetually followed around by his pet pig--Peppermint Preston whose death will absolutely force to me to Google “Best Denny’s Parking Lots for Fistfights.” He misses his dad but not his dick brothers because Ally isn’t allowed to have a fully happy family in any season. Liam is from the disgraced House Jawbreaker and his brothers seem to expect him to try and off the King while he’s in their orbit. While he’s in the woods, looking for seeds (as one does) he finds and accidentally breaks an important looking teacup, which we’ll get back to.

The other important character we meet this episode is an NPC--Queen Caramelinda, mother of the princesses, wife of Amethar, and keeper of 100% of the impulse control of House Rocks. She’s the main disciplinarian to Jet and Ruby, the clear decision-maker in the kingdom, and the only literate one out of her and her husband. She also seems to be the only character that respects Lapin’s authority.

An Inciting Incident

So, with all our characters assembled, all that’s left is the plot hook which Caramelinda provides in the form of a personal letter from Emperor Gustavo--the head honcho of the entire realm and his old friend--to Amethar. He’s not doing well health-wise and he needs to name an heir that’s not related to him at a big tourney that he’s personally inviting Amethar to. Amethar is a little slow on the uptake but Caramelinda eventually connects to dots for him that it seems very likely that Gustavo is going to name him emperor.

Amethar is not vibing with that information at all but Caramelinda basically holds him by the ear until he reluctantly agrees to go--though he insists that Ruby and Jet also come along to keep him company. Caramelinda only agrees on the condition that Lapin goes with. She also invites Liam (who is caught off guard but game) and Sir Theo is basically going by default. Caramelinda is staying home to hold down the fort but the talking slice of cake is going because Brennan hates me and doesn’t want me to be happy.

The traveling party is chosen, the twins have been gifted with sick, inherited weapons from their aunts: Flickorice--the Twizzing Blade (Jet) and Sourscratch--the Puckering Bow (Ruby). It’s almost time to be off, but there’s still one last thing to get to before we leave the twins’ party.

Lapin, feeling the pull of something broken (told you we’d get back to it) subtly makes his way outside, but is followed by Jet and Liam. Now, if you remember, I said earlier that Lapin is an official of the Bulbian church. Which is why it’s so surprising for Jet and Liam to see him talking to the Sugarplum Fairy, a deity of the Sweetening Path--a non-sanctioned more animistic religion that really only has sway in Candia. He fixes the teacup and then she appears, telling him that he’ll need to be wary once he leaves her sphere of influence and that boldness will be required in the days to come. Lapin, who seems to be having this conversation very begrudgingly, asks if she’s asking him to do anything in an official capacity and she smiles and says that she’s not asking for her third wish(!). Then what does she want? She wants him to know that there is great risk in what he is doing, but not acting is the greater risk. The coming challenges will be great, but he must protect the royal family or all is lost. She wouldn't have used her second wish to bring him to them if that weren’t the case. They hustle back and spill this to Ruby, obvs.

Anyway, onward! The next day, the caravan is set up and--with a warning about a sugar free chocolate warlock (ominous, as sugar free chocolate always is) they’re on their way to meet their escort out of Candia. Ruby decides to do her acrobat thing and is hanging out on top of the carriage instead of inside it as she and Jet “subtly” (read:not at all) bring up the Sugarplum Fairy to Lapin to see if he cracks.

Suddenly, the caravan stops. There’s a tree felled in the path, which really only means one thing in this kind of story.

Ambush.

Ruby, outside of the carriage and unprotected, takes 16 points of damage and is fully down with a failed death save due to some unknown effect. The carriage is riddled with arrows.

Everyone rolls for initiative and that takes us into a new (sure to be recurring) segment I’m calling:

Things I’m Concerned About

I’m concerned about Jet and Ruby (and not just because I’ve been worried about Ruby for a while due to things the cast has said and because she fully *died* this episode). They have their genres so wrong. They think they’re Disney movie protagonists but they’re in Game of Thrones and they don’t know it. Being Wrong Genre Savvy is a BAD position to find yourself in. Carriage surfing shenanigans don’t fly in a world that wants you dead.

OK, Carameinda. I’m inclined to be pro-Caramelinda. Like, she’s the hardass but she needs to be because Amethar isn’t helping run the kingdom. If this was a different story, she wouldn’t give me any pause but I read Macbeth and feel some light Lady Macbeth vibes. Gonna be keeping an eye on her.

Calroy and Sir Toby (didn’t mention him, he’s a slightly lower ranked Gummi Bear guard and friends with Theo). In a story like this, I’m looking for the possible betrayals before I get blindsided and the only people who can really betray you are people who are supposedly loyal to you. Calroy had a little aside with Amethar about how he shouldn’t be the Emperor if he doesn’t want to be--which isn’t wrong but is also something someone angling to keep him off the throne for other reasons would say--and Sir Toby decided to stay behind to help hold down the fort--again, either an innocuous decision, or angling to be left alone and to his own devices.

Whatever is going on with the Sugarplum Fairy and Lapin? Do not care for that one bit. I understand that a Warlock pact is mechanically very similar to a Paladin oath and a Celestial Warlock pact is even moreso but guess what? Still don’t trust it. I know Ruby’s Arcana check said that she’s generally a chill spirit but I still don’t trust it. And getting Wishes from your follower? Weird and suspicious. What’s your game, lady?

Emperor Gustavo apparently has a daughter who is barred by law from taking the throne when he dies. That sounds like a very strong motive for *something* at some point down the line.

I’m a little concerned Jet is being catfished by this Avocado. First of all, not a sentence I thought I’d ever write. Second of all, I’m probably just being paranoid. But that feels like a great way to get a princess alone for kidnapping or shanking or something.

Update: Brennan did an AMA and, regarding the previous bullet point he said, and I quote, “You are right to be concerned!” so now I’m concerned about that too! Fun!

I’m concerned about the mechanics of how a slice of cake person works. Slice implies a full cake. Where is the rest of the cake Brennan? Where is it? And, like, Brennan said on the post-show stream that we’re making the “what do they eat?” question weirder than it actually is because we’re made of some of the stuff we eat but hey Brennan? If I could pick a flesh toned and textured apple off a tree? That would be weird, OK? And I’m sorry for everyone else who had to picture that but it had to be said since Brennan is insisting on walking us down this garden path.

I’m concerned about whatever the hell is happening with Liam. Disgraced dad, mom is a shaman of the local fringe religion (Sweetening Path, like Lapin), and his brothers want him to shank the king or something? No way this ends in smiles for everyone.

Brennan said Pyramid of Food so I’m concerned about fruit rollup mummies.

OK but more than anything, I’m concerned about the death rules of this game. Death in D&D is cheap but, in a campaign like this, it can’t be. I’m not super well versed in GoT but it’s my understanding that resurrection in that series is possible but rare. Brennan said he specifically didn’t let Ally stock certain healing spells and that’s very telling about how things are gonna be handled. I guess we’ll see in the upcoming battle episode how that works but my general thought is, I hope everyone made interesting backup characters.

Five More Things

So, my thoughts on the new characters. I love Ruby and Jet with my entire heart. Watching Emily and Siobhan roleplay sisters and enable each other and hype each other up is so fun--or it would be if I wasn’t low key bracing to lose one of them sooner rather than later. Zac playing against type and Murph playing to type are both fantastic. I want nothing more than for Theobald and Lapin to continue sniping at each other. I hope that’s the first PvP fight of D20. Amethar is a lot of fun but clearly in over his head and I’m interested to see where he’s pushed. Liam is literally just vibing. Hope he doesn’t have to commit regicide!

God, the House Rocks PCs are such a disaster family. I love it. The moment when Calroy comes in and is like, “The princesses have escaped,” and Amethar breaks into a grin and is like, “Dude, that’s so dope!” I was like OH, so it’s *all* of them, huh. But, honestly, this should have been on the “Things I’m Concerned About” list because come on. They’ve not all gonna make it. And then we’re gonna have to watch the remaining family members react to that? Oh no.

Love Ruby’s bow. I have a player in my game who also has a magic bow that produces energy arrows because, truly, who has the time to deal with the logistics of how many arrows you had left after last fight? Magic arrows. Boom, done. Next.

Getting bagged on by your Patron for not having a spell when she’s the one who gives you your spells is so funny. Also, Mending isn’t a Warlock spell which makes it even funnier.

**I’ve given myself a 3k word limit on all of these to try to put some boundaries on myself but, Lol, prize to the first who guesses closest to the first episode I break that rule.**

#a crown of candy #a crown of candy spoilers #dimension 20 #dimension 20 spoilers #the royal report #listen I don't hate calroy #I hate the *implications* of calroy

147 notes · View notes

peterbishop · 5 years ago

Text

someone like you

Mark opens his mouth, as if to answer, and snaps his fingers. “She’s your girlfriend, isn’t she? I saw you kissing some chick before I got brought into here. I thought it might have been her, but I couldn’t believe someone like you would end up with someone like her.”

(or, a suspect uses jake and amy's relationship against jake)

read on ao3

Sometimes, they hold hands walking into work. And sometimes, she presses a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth before leaving to brief her beat cops on the day. Her fingers may linger on his wrist for a moment too long and Charles breaks into the widest grin, but they wouldn’t have it any other way. They never fully shied away from PDA while they were dating—being married, however, makes it all that more enticing. “Sorry,” Jake will say to the role of Rosa’s eyes, “I just love my wife.”

It’s never been a problem; not even when Gina made mention of their “bang me eyes” being on full display the week following their honeymoon, much to their horror (resulting in a secret tryst to the third floor supply closet to get it out of their systems). They are simply in love, endlessly enamored by one another, and no one can imagine it another way. Parts of a whole: Jake and Amy. With one comes the other.

Even more so with their wanting to get pregnant. Jake whispers how beautiful she looks when she surprises with him a cup of coffee, and her lips ghost the shell of his ear when she tells him how much she loves him in that dark green shirt. It’s shared smiles and glances that say more than any string of words. Everything feels more alive, more infused with attention and care, since they decided to start trying for kids. It’s precarious and tangible and real. Love is that, Jake decides after one particularly mind-blowing night: it’s him and Amy and knowing that they’ll create a being out of their own adoration.

So, sue him if he cups her cheek when she gives him a goodbye kiss before heading for the elevators. And for whispering, “Oh, the things I would do if we weren’t here…” with a wink to follow. She goes in for one more kiss—cue faux-gagging from Rosa—and tells him she’ll see him in a few hours. His eyes continue to follow her, watching and falling in love all over again, before she disappears downstairs.

Terry walks over to Jake’s desk and drops down a file. “I need you to question Mark Robinson.” His eyes flick towards a man, appearing mid-forties and fairly fit, standing in the nearby holding cell. “He’s our lead suspect in the 87th street robbery case.”

Jake looks through the file. “Didn’t Amy arrest this guy?”

“Yeah, but she’s busy with a seminar this morning. It’s a pretty open and shut case—read the file and you’ll be fine,” Terry says.

Jake nods, “Sounds good,” and starts reading.

“Who are you?”

Jake slides into the cool metal seat, flicking open the manilla folder before him, and cooly smirks. “Jake Peralta, detective extraordinaire.”

Mark Robinson cocks his head, almost with disappointment. “You didn’t arrest me.”

“Quite the astute observation there, Mr. Robinson,” Jake says, probably too sarcastically. “Maybe you should be a detective.”

“What happened to that Latina chick?” Mark asks bluntly.

Jake’s jaw twitches, slightly caught off-guard. “I’m taking over the case. Now, Mr. Robinson—“

“That’s a shame,” Mark laments. “I wanted to see her again. She’s pretty sexy.”

“Sir,” Jake says, curt.

“Like, so hot. I would let myself get arrested again if she was on the other end of it.”

“Sir, you’re here to answer my questions. I don’t need the commentary.”

“Are you trying to tell me you don’t find her attractive?”

Jake’s teeth start to grind. “You’re talking about a highly decorated sergeant. I would suggest not saying another word about her.”

“C’mon, it’s all in good fun. Just some locker room talk, man.” Mark gives him a smarmy grin.

“No,” Jake levels, words sharp and slight. “It’s not. Now again, Mr. Robinson, we have eyewitnesses who place you on 87th street at the time of the robbery. Would you like to explain why you were there?”

Jake takes a deep breath and curls his hand into a fist, trying to restrain himself from hitting the table. Mark’s eyes flicker down to Jake’s left hand, his silver wedding band shining in the light, and breaks into a laugh. “She’s your wife? This keeps getting better.”

Jake thinks back to the Keri Brennan case, one of he said, she said, which proved to be harder on Jake than he anticipated. Amy opening up to him in the break room, about her old captain and expectations and how this is normal, for her and for women as a whole. She looked at him with wet eyes and spoke in sullen words, and he almost couldn’t meet her gaze, feeling helpless and hopeless. She never needed him to protect her, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to do so. He held her hand tightly on the yellow couch that day and continued to hold it tighter when they left work.

He watched feminist documentaries and thought he got it. But this, looking Mark Robinson in his sleazy eyes and listening to sordid words drip from his mouth without care—Jake feels like he’s back in the break room, realizing and understanding all over again.

“Shut up,” Jake says lowly.

“Did I get to you, detective extraordinaire?” Mark disparages, positively gleeful.

“No—I just don’t have time for dicks.”

“Oh, I definitely did.”

Jake slams the folder shut. “Clearly, you don’t want to be here. Neither do I. I could be doing so many other things right now. So, just admit that you broke into that woman’s apartment, and we can move on.”

“Nah,” Mark says, casual and nonchalant. “I’m having fun.”

“You stole tens of thousands of dollars of jewelry off her dresser. Felt good, didn’t it?” Jake prods, sinking to the man’s level. “To just take advantage of her?”

Mark laughs. “You think you’re going to coax it out of me?”

“She’s quite the beautiful woman, but she didn’t want you, did she? You must have met her at a bar, maybe followed her home, but she said no.”

The suspect wrings his hands together. “Nice theory there, but no.”

“So, why were you on 87th street?”

“Just taking a walk. Is that a crime now, too?”

“No, but having no alibi definitely points toward you being guilty.”

Mark falls quiet.

“C’mon, Mark. Just say you did it. We’re sending cops to your apartment soon, anyways. You really think they won't find anything?”

Again, no response.

“If you admit to me that you did it, maybe we’ll lessen your sentence.”

A beat. The man’s forehead wrinkles, thinking.

“Fine,” Mark spits, laughing. “I did it. I robbed that bitch—she just made it too easy not to.”

Jake stands up from his seat. “See Mark, how hard was that?”

Mark breaks into a grin, still laughing. “And I know I could rob your wife’s heart too.”

“Oh, you fucking wish,” Jake sneers, and leaves with the slam of the door.

Jake tosses the file onto Terry’s desk and says, “He confessed,” before quickly turning to leave the office.

“Hold up there, Peralta. Where are you going?” Terry asks, and Jake spins on his heels.

“I gotta go see my wife.” Terry gives him a dubious look, and Jake sighs. “If you see the tape from the interrogation room, you’ll understand.”

Amy is doing paperwork when Jake brings her face into his hands, kissing her softly, slowly. When he breaks away, she looks at him warmly, trying to fight off the smile that tugs at her lips. “What was that for, babe?” she asks.

“I just wanted to let you know I love you,” he says simply.

He thinks he’s hiding it, but he knows she can sense the slight change in his demeanor. She’s his wife after all. “I love you too, but seriously, Jake,” she says, “what is it?”

He pulls over the chair that resides next to her desk, his voice low: “I questioned the man you arrested, Mark Robinson.”

“Did he confess?” she asks.

“Yes.”

“That’s great.” She pauses as his head drops down, their eyes no longer meeting. “It’s not great?”

“He said… things that I can’t get out of my head.”

“Like what?”

Jake lets out a heavy sigh. “He saw you kiss me before I went to interrogate him and basically used it against me. He couldn’t believe I was with someone like you.”

“Oh,” she breathes.

“And he was just saying awful stuff about you, calling you a chick and—god, I wanted to punch him, Ames. I really did.”

Her hand falls to his, giving it a squeeze. “Babe—“

“You’re my wife,” he says so surely. “And I love you, and I know you love me but—“

“But nothing,” Amy cuts in. “The guy was just being an asshole. He doesn’t know you nor understands the millions of reasons that I’m in love with you.”

Jake softly smiles at that, almost blushing.

“You’re kind and brilliant and everything. My everything,” she says, and Jake thinks his heart could burst the way it batters against his ribcage with all-consuming love.

“I married the cheesiest person in the world.”

“Yes, you did,” she smiles back. “And no one can change that.”

When Jake heads back to his desk, Mark is getting taken out of the holding cell in handcuffs.

They make eye contact and maybe, Jake waves goodbye with his left hand, purposely showing off his wedding band. And maybe, he proudly grins and mouths ‘she’s my wife’ as Mark scowls. And maybe, he holds up his ring finger as if he were flipping the bird.

But when the workday ends and he brings his arm around Amy’s waist just as they exit the precinct and she leans into his side, sweetly whispering his name? That’s a definite.

#my writing #jake x amy #b99 #peraltiago #uhhhh i dont really know what this is :)#is it angst?#is it overdramatic?#whomst knows

148 notes · View notes

punkscowardschampions · 5 years ago

Text

Jac & Savannah

Jac: Feel totally free to ignore this, and this isn't an attempt to further any more conversation between us again if you don't want it, but it would feel bizarre to pretend...well, that we hadn't known each other before, or that I'd forgotten you entirely, so Jac: Obviously things weren't great when you left but I'm fully over that as no doubt you are too Jac: As we're classmates again, it makes sense to me that we are civil and prepared to work together if necessary but I'm not going to attempt more than that, nor am I holding some kind of grudge which would prohibit the former, I thought I'd reassure you of that, as well as just say, hello, I suppose 🙂 Savannah: You're right, it would be bizarre as well as counterproductive Savannah: though, we don't actually know each other any more, two formative years having passed, so I don't see why we can't start over Savannah: treating each other like we would our other classmates Jac: That sounds logical to me too Jac: I'd be happy to treat this as an introduction opposed to a reintroduction Savannah: okay Savannah: but before we do, I just want to say I'm really proud of you for getting in Jac: You too Jac: it's amazing, isn't it Jac: better than we had even visualized and worked and prayed for Savannah: I always knew you could do it Jac: I had no doubts about you, either Jac: potential that you'd changed your course and vision but whatever you put your mind and talent to Savannah: I did think you'd go to Bath, or that I would Jac: I could lie here and say something about preferring the history and culture of Edinburgh as a city, and finding St Andrews better in X Y Z but Jac: Bath didn't happen, is the reality of it Jac: but I'm not devastated, as I once would've been to be left with my 2nd choice Savannah: We don't have to lie, it didn't happen for me either, partly because catholic school did of course, but that's not the entirety of it Jac: I try to leave lying, however innocuous and pointless, two years ago, too Jac: Karma or otherwise, just stopped feeling worth it Jac: how was your new School? Savannah: A lot of things stopped feeling worth it to me too Savannah: Oh, Sienna liked it Savannah: I did not Jac: I am sorry to hear that Jac: I can't think of anything I would've liked less than being surrounded by other hormonal, crazy, moody, bitchy teenage girls either Savannah: at least she thrived, you wouldn't even recognise her now Savannah: she's so Savannah: Loud Jac: 😂 Jac: Loud can be good Jac: at least some positives came of it all Savannah: she reminds me of how I remember Jude Savannah: but she's happy, I think Jac: I think you'd still have recognized Jude Jac: likely from a mile off, giving you time to escape Jac: I hope she is Savannah: 😄 Jac: and that you'll be happier here than you were there, too Savannah: unless either of my parents enrol, we can take that as a given Jac: I'll drink to that Jac: complimentary coffee, that is Savannah: for now anyway Jac: Hopefully the plans get a little more exciting Savannah: 🙌 Jac: Have you heard any Psych school nights being organized or do you think one of us should bite that bullet and start the group chat? Savannah: we should do it Savannah: best foot forward, you know? Jac: Absolutely Jac: Why not, eh Jac: You're in halls too, right? Savannah: Yes Savannah: where are you? Jac: John Burnet, how about you? Savannah: You only get a single bed too! Savannah: I'm in University Hall Savannah: it's so pretty Jac: The nuns taught you well then 😛 Jac: I think it's worth it for the architecture, we'll just have to remember not to roll Savannah: 👼🏾🙏🏾 Savannah: It wasn't worth ANOTHER argument with my dad about co-ed Jac: and you get to have the Libraries literally right on your doorstep Jac: I was debating it, but I'm still better in smaller crowds, that sold JB to me ultimately Savannah: if my dad didn't run my life I totally would've applied there too Savannah: I love that it has a garden Jac: I know, right? Jac: Well you can use my little patch of 🌷 🌹 🌺 🌸 🌼 🌻 whenever you like, because I'll certainly be haunting the libraries enough Savannah: You haven't lost any of your sweetness Savannah: & of course you must, I hate studying alone Jac: I'll probably be tragically uncool forever, our classmates may as well find out sooner rather than later 💁 Jac: if the sight of all those books gets too much, there's always the 🏖 for maximum studying, I'm sure Savannah: No way! I had more fun with you than I've had with anyone else EVER Savannah: they'll find all your good points Jac: 😊 Jac: Okay, we did have some fun Savannah: a lot Jac: I can't/shan't disagree with that Savannah: it doesn't feel like two years Savannah: sometimes more like twenty, or like two months Jac: It is really weird, I felt like I haven't said it because it can't be overstated Jac: but good weird Jac: are any of your friends from Sligo here too? Jac: I don't know anyone Savannah: I don't know anyone either Jac: A familiar face is a good thing Jac: as is getting to know each other afresh, they can coexist Savannah: I thought it was for the best that nobody followed me here, until I saw you Jac: Shocking as it was Jac: glad the 😱 isn't permanent Jac: I'd hate to do that to you, honestly Savannah: you don't believe I could pull it off? Jac: Of course you could Jac: but your 😄 is undeniably a better look Savannah: my lips ARE very big, I could end up looking like a blow up doll if I'm forever open mouthed from today onwards Savannah: then I'd never marry a prince Jac: Why we're here, obviously Savannah: Everyone thinks so Savannah: just because my boyfriend dumped me after the leavers cert Jac: Oof Jac: that's rough Jac: though at least he didn't steal your Summer? I guess Savannah: Oh my god! That's exactly what he said Savannah: no wonder he reminded me of you Jac: Oh God 😬 are you suggesting I should be in Sallies with the rest of the fuckboys? 😂 Jac: not the crowd I was hoping to get in with but, you know Savannah: where you are is perfect for you Jac: 🤞 Savannah: it feels right being here Jac: Yeah Jac: it really does Savannah: I was worried I wouldn't feel that when I actually got here but 🙏🏾 Jac: I thought it'd be scarier being away from home Jac: but if anything, it's a relief Savannah: you don't have to share a room with Jude any more, it obviously would be Savannah: how is everyone though? Jac: 🍵🙊 Jac: No, they're good, all doing their own thing Jac: Jesse's got his music, the kids are the same old Jac: oh, Jameson got a girlfriend though, that's cute Savannah: I can't believe one brother is literally famous and the other is adorably loved up Savannah: Sienna hasn't had a boyfriend yet, I think that's my fault Jac: Honestly, they're both unbearable now 😏 Jac: overprotective big sister vibes or off-putting dumping ex? Savannah: Jesse was always an acquired taste, which I never did Savannah: Oh, both, for sure 🤫 Jac: Musically and personality-wise, he'd agree you have a point Jac: long as she's happy, like you said Jac: always found them too distracting myself Savannah: I suppose I just always needed a distraction Jac: Clearly, that's why we aren't having this conversation in Bath Jac: for the best, in the end 🌌🔮 Savannah: I hope so Jac: Honestly, it's a better uni Jac: and I'm not just lying to myself/you to make us feel better 😂 Jac: Delia Rockford, you remember her, right? Jac: She got into Bath, so, you aren't missing out, is what I mean Savannah: I hate her Jac: She's doing International Management and German Jac: the language of the future 🤨 Savannah: She's German descent! That's basically cheating Jac: You'd think she's got a place at Cambridge studying classics the way she's been bragging Jac: they aren't remotely top in languages or whatever the hell International Management is but alright 🙄 Savannah: I'm so glad she blocked me after what happened during the party at Michelle Brennan's house Savannah: which wasn't even my fault Jac: Now that feels like a million years ago Savannah: It was Savannah: I don't think we were even friends yet Jac: We weren't for that long, in the grand scheme of things Jac: that's the weirdest part Jac: we were pretty intense, yeah Savannah: everything was pretty intense Jac: It was Jac: Isabelle is doing coaching at TUD Jac: we were never really the same but she's well in herself Savannah: She'll be incredible at that Savannah: if it had happened to me, there's no way I would've not been retaking the year Jac: I know Savannah: did you hear about my mum? Jac: No, I don't think I did? Savannah: she'll appreciate it not being common knowledge, I guess Jac: Is she okay? Savannah: She's doing better now Savannah: which I suppose means she's at about the same level as she was before I left Savannah: because she really struggled after Jac: It must've been really hard for her Jac: to have you two gone, and realize it probably was for the best Jac: did you see her much, in these two years? Savannah: not as much as I should've Jac: You can't be blamed for that Jac: you had to take care of yourself, and Sienna Savannah: but she needed me to stay Jac: Maybe she needed to sort herself out Jac: and she's getting there Jac: our parents shouldn't be our responsibility Savannah: It has to work out here, you know? Savannah: I can't go back Jac: Of course it will Jac: you're going to be fine, amazing Jac: and then you can do your masters and your Ph.D. and then marry a prince and you'll have several royal residences, neither of which will be in Dubo or Sligo Savannah: I'm just sick of things being painful, difficult is fine, but I want it not to hurt Savannah: which is a HUGE overshare if we met today Jac: it's cool Jac: I hear everyone is best friends for life fresher's week Savannah: that makes me feel a lot better Savannah: especially when I pause to consider how many of them I'm likely to cry on before it's over Jac: It's basically tradition Jac: you won't be the only one Jac: moving forward, it's bound to make you think more about what you're leaving behind, even if temporarily Savannah: I've missed you Savannah: sorry if that's like leaping over a boundary or something Jac: I wouldn't have bet on that being what you said, should I ever see you again Jac: but it's better than what I would've Savannah: It's not like this with anyone else Savannah: I can't change that Jac: I never really Jac: like I went out, people would talk to me, I'm not trying to sell a sob story here Jac: but you're right Jac: it was never the same with anyone else, not remotely Savannah: I've given you mine already, so if you have one, it's okay to tell it or not Savannah: even if I'm so embarrassed I did that Jac: Seriously, no need Jac: you were there to witness my unfinest hour Jac: I treated lots of people like shit Jac: Is, mainly Jac: but you too, in lots of ways Jac: not proud of it, but I changed, still am, hopefully Savannah: I hope you don't change too much though Jac: Yeah? Savannah: I thought you were perfect how you were Jac: And I'm the sweet one Savannah: we both made mistakes, but that's human Jac: It's been a while since anyone's accused me of being human Jac: all those exams Jac: 🤖 felt more fitting Savannah: & you look so 👼🏻 Jac: You look as flawless as you ever did Savannah: My auntie mailed all her good skincare to Sligo Jac: expect no less 🙌 Savannah: the fresher air was 🙌 Savannah: even if the rural accents took me by surprise Jac: 😵 or 🥴 surprise though? Savannah: not like 😊 😋 😍 😘 🥰 Jac: the accent here is pretty 🤭 Jac: though Savannah: which one? 😄 Jac: Valid Jac: very town VS gown Savannah: which one though? Savannah: tell me Jac: The original Savannah: very Romeo & Juliet of you Jac: Oh no Jac: am I that cliche now? Savannah: we'll see Jac: Sounds slightly concerning Jac: but I'll do my best to subvert expectations Savannah: it'll be concerning if you get distracted by some boy's accent after working this hard to get here Savannah: unless he's a prince, obviously Jac: Not changed that much Jac: I'd get disowned if I married royalty, anyway Savannah: 🚫💍👰 Savannah: just adorable heirs to the throne Savannah: 👶👶👶👶👶 Jac: adorable, illegitimate bastards ❤ Savannah: yes Savannah: or is that another cliche? Jac: Probably Jac: although if we are educated, career women now, any babies is beating expectations Savannah: except not really because every career woman is also determined to become a mother & prove she can have it all Jac: 🚫👶 it is then Jac: maybe a dissertation topic, at any rate Savannah: 😢 Jac: 👶🏾👶🏾👶🏾👶🏾👶🏾👶🏾👶🏾👶🏾👶🏾👶🏾 Jac: many as you like Savannah: they all need best friends Savannah: you have to stick to the plan Jac: Can I get through freshers first? Savannah: 🤞🏾 Jac: Please, I'm no amateur Savannah: I hope not, I'm single & the point is we do it at the same time Jac: as am I Jac: not feeling any 1st year that hard, thanks 😏 Savannah: you always date older, it's fine Jac: None of our lecturers were the one Jac: another cliche avoided Savannah: I'm not sad about that Jac: There's enough inequality of power about without actively seeking out the dynamic, agreed Savannah: ^^ Jac: the fashion show seems to have got the diversity memo though Jac: could be cool Savannah: it's going to be the highlight, I can feel it Jac: 😄 Jac: I was thinking Tues for our psych night, as nothing much is really going on Jac: what do you think? Savannah: good idea Jac: 👍 Savannah: I'll start the chat if you want Jac: You were always better at talking Savannah: when it's not that important, but when it matters, you always know exactly what to say Savannah: at least to me Jac: You're easy to talk to Jac: in a way I really could never work out Savannah: There's nobody in my life right now who would agreed with that Savannah: so it must be you Jac: my inbox full of unreads would say otherwise but Jac: I'll take it Savannah: okay, it's us together Savannah: does that make you happier? Jac: Better Savannah: your hair got really long Savannah: I'm BEYOND jealous Jac: You've got no reason to be jealous of any other girl in the world Savannah: you're not any other girl in the world Savannah: 🤫🤫 Jac: 😶 Jac: Promise Savannah: it looks beautiful, I can't cope Jac: My 😳 will not Savannah: 💗 Savannah: 🌷 🌺 🌸 Jac: Is that a dress code? Savannah: well NOW it is Jac: 😂 Jac: My wardrobe can accomodate Jac: cheers for the heads up Savannah: you're welcome Savannah: & we're all set until 💬 Jac: I better let you get on then Savannah: was it that good of a conversation starter? Jac: Solid Jac: will scare off anyone 😱 of 💗 🌷 🌺 🌸 Savannah: well I obviously don't need that negativity in my life Savannah: but I didn't mean to end this conversation Jac: We don't have to Jac: What are your plans for the rest of the day, now the obligatory are over? Savannah: don't judge me, because I know I sound like a different person, but I haven't made any Jac: Thank God, me neither Jac: I didn't know how long any of that would take Jac: nor unpacking, which is technically done but that says nothing about the decorating I wanna do Savannah: I could help Jac: Or, slightly more fair, we could check out the town, see what shops are about? Savannah: I'd like that Jac: Cool 🙂 Jac: let's have half an hour to debrief and make sure we don't look 😱 and then head out? Savannah: okay Savannah: you can put your hair up & save my life Jac: oh 🤫 Savannah: I am serious Savannah: 🚗 🚕 🚲 are distraction enough Jac: You could rock a cast Jac: but I won't let it happen Savannah: what would you write on it? Jac: That's a good 🧊breaker Jac: but I'll have to keep that secret for now Savannah: if I ask everyone on Tuesday, will you tell me then? Jac: It's a deal Savannah: it is

1 note · View note

knowledgefulbutterfly · 5 years ago

Text

Read and Weep

He pressed his hand to his chest, gasping in pain.

“Brennan, you need to go to a hospital,” someone in a uniform told him, but he swatted the person away, trying to find his phone.

“I gotta tell her—” he was cut off, still looking for his cell, “where is it?”

Brennan became more and more frustrated when he couldn’t locate his phone in his pockets, so the EMT stopped his struggling, “If I give you my phone will you let me bandage you up? You’ve made your bleeding worse.”

Had he? Brennan hadn’t noticed in his frantic flailing, but it felt good to have the phone slipped into his hand. The EMTs made it hard to dial as they were trying to wrap a wide bandage around his chest, but Brennan knew her number by heart, and had no problem pressing the microphone to his ear.

“Mara?” he asked as the person on the other line picked up.

“Yes?” the feminine voice answered, and Brennan jolted up quickly, making the EMTs push him back down. It was so good to hear her voice when he was in so much pain.

“Mara, I’ve got to tell you something,” he hesitated, coughing a bit. Blood dribbled out of his mouth, coating his chin, “I love you so, so much.”

A laugh came over the other line, rough and sweet, “did you call me in the middle of the night just to say that or is something wrong?”

Brennan smiled as he waved off the EMTs, adding a sad tilt to his lips, “No, nothing’s wrong, I just wanted to say that I love you. So much.”

“You’re weird,” Mara said lightly, “So, since I’m awake now, you wanna talk?”

“Sure,” he coughed again, and tried to push himself farther up, but his strength was failing him. The EMTs situated Brennan on the ground and he kept talking to Mara.

“Sooo,” she held out the word and Brennan could just see her twirling her long blonde hair over a finger, “The fall ball is in a few days, are you going?”

Brennan laughed at the irony, but the action just made him wince, “No, honey, I don’t think I am.”

“Aww,” she said, probably pushing out her lip.

“You never want to go to those things anyway,” Brennan said, trying to console her before she actually started to cry.

“But I thought maybe this time would be different. I mean, this is our senior year. Maybe we mix it up a little,” Mara explained and Brennan knew she was back to twirling her gold-spun hair. He wished he could see her hair right then. He wished he could see her.

“Yeah,” Brennan’s breath was coming fast now, and he was starting to get winded with the effort of sounding fine to Mara, “wait until senior year to mix it up.”

“It’s our last kick, though, Brenn,” Mara pleaded over the line, and Brennan laughed again, fumbling to put the phone on speaker since he was too weak to hold it up to his ear. The EMT pressed his finger to his lips and nodded at Brennan, then his colleagues.

“Yeah, I’m sorry Mara,” Brennan huffed, “I really can’t come to the fall ball.”

A sad sigh came over the line, “What came up?”

Brennan copied Mara, blowing a large breath of air out of his lungs, “I dunno. It’s like on Saturday, right? I might not be alive then.”

An EMT shook his head and patted Brennan’s knee while Mara laughed over the phone, “You’re such a weird guy, Brenn. You probably don’t have a suit and are too lazy to go get one.”

“Yeah, hun,” his voice was raspy and tears were streaming down his cheeks, “I’m too lazy.”

“Brennan, are you okay?” Mara’s tone of mocking had left her voice and was now filled with worry.

“Yeah, just—” he coughed again, producing more blood that ran down his neck and chin, “just tell me a story.��

“Okay,” Mara sounded skeptical, but she launched into an epic tale about a prince and a princess but the princess saved the prince. Brennan’s smile twisted in pain as he tried to move closer to the phone.

She was saving him. And when Brennan closed his eyes and started to melt into the warm, fuzzy blackness, all he heard was Mara’s voice. and Mara’s voice was all he wanted to hear.

“Brennan?” Mara’s voice came over the line, “Brenn, can you hear me?”

The EMT grimaced and picked up his phone, “Ma’am, I’m sorry I have to be the one to tell you this but…”

@darling-i-read-it , you said that you liked sad stories, so i hope you don’t mind that i @ted you.

This is an older story, but it’s one of my best

#my writing #story #short story #sad story #situational irony

2 notes · View notes

littleredroseonthevalley · 6 years ago

Text

Red Rose - Chapter 16

Prologue Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5 Ch. 6 Ch. 7 Ch. 8 Ch. 9 Ch. 10 Ch. 11Ch. 12 Ch. 13 Ch. 14 Ch. 15 CH. 16

Summary: Riley manages the fallback from the hedgemaze fiasco, but she’s soon reminded that there’s no dull moment in Cordonia, as Tariq barges into her room and her and Drake have a moment.

Rating: M - Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16 with non-explicit suggestive adult themes, references to some violence, or coarse language.

Theodora sat at her dresser, brushing her thick, platinum blonde mane. Puberty has done her very well, with her skin as fair and spotless as it was at her birth, the hourglass figure and the harmonious breast also being God-given gifts. Her eyes were cold and cutting as a knife.

That night, they shone in determination.

“Promises are made, promises are broken.” She told to her own reflection. “Well, father, two can play at that game.”

She took off the brush from her hair and placed the richly-engraved brush back into the dresser drawer. She then rose from the chair and walked over to her closet. She took some clothes from the racks and threw them at a bag open at the door. She then proceeded to change her blue dress into a pair of pants, a shirt and a green parka.

All dressed, she threw the bag over her shoulders and sneaked off to her parents’ room. At that time of day, it was predictably empty. Behind a painting, lay a safe, and the code was 1918.

Inside the safe, there was cash, jewels, and most importantly, a hostage for her escape operation.

She refused to end up like her parents and siblings. She refused living that odious life. There it was a passport for another life, another herself.

Theodora threw everything inside the bag and sneaked her way into the house’s backdoor.

Half an hour later, safely on a train going away from the life she knew, she took a deep breath. Relief washed her lithe body.

Escape seemed at hand’s reach.

Applewood, Neokastron, Cordonia, Fall 2015

“Oh, God.” Riley bemoaned. “I’m so screwed.”

“This does hamper our initial plans, yes.” Charlotte noted. “We would stay in Cordonia until Theophany, and, when Liam did not pick you, we would have a good reason to leave. Riley would be killed off in some tragic accident a few months later, and that would be that.

“What we didn’t count on is the fact that you want to stay.”

“No matter, we are sticking with our original plan.” Riley said, determined. “Regardless of what I may be feeling about Liam or about anyone else, there is no way I can stay in Cordonia come February. Even if the impossible happens and Liam does choose me.”

“But there is a way.” Charlotte said, thoughtful. “Think about it: your story held uncontested up until now, even with the security services looking thoroughly into it. I doubt anyone except perhaps the MI-5 or the CIA could blow it now, much less some lowly yellow press, sketch of a reporter. And that’s only in the first few months, once the rage of your marriage passes, they stop snooping on the dirty secrets of your past and start snooping on the dirty secrets of your present.

“You have files of the marriage of Amara Grey and Brennan Flowers, the latter of whom died without any relatives to say you weren’t related to them, and the former is so deep in this as yourself, she won’t blab or else she’ll be packing to a federal prison.

“You planted school records in not one, not two, but in three different institutions, you swapped the yearbooks from the library in Cedar Cove, and all your supposed colleagues seem to remember a shy, quiet student at the corner they don’t quite remember the name of.

“You fed a fake Facebook for years, for Christ’s sakes!” Charlotte exasperated. “Honestly, if I didn’t know you, if I didn’t know you were lying, I would fucking think you were really Riley Flowers.”

Riley weighed what has been said by Charlotte, and she had to give her a point, by now there is no conceivable way for her to be discovered, not by the Cordonian court, and not if she didn’t screw up. However, one thing weighed heavily on her mind: “What about Karen and Ludwig?”

“Riley, my promise holds regardless of you deciding to be a queen or not. A week in February, and you’ll be free.” Charlotte said, in all seriousness. “We could tell everybody you were off to New York tying up some loose ends, we could even have Amara backing up these claims.”

Riley grumbled. “It still don’t change what happened today. Liam and I still had this huge fight, and we both said things we shouldn’t have, even if we did meant them.”

“Hey, sweetie, do you still have your journals?” Charlotte asked.

“My journals?” Riley said, confused.

“When you were younger, every time you got upset, you used to write your feelings away. Don’t you do that anymore?”

Then it dawned on her. Her notebooks. She used to write on them every day, as in to chase away the feelings of loneliness and fear from getting caught by the Rosenbergs. She remembered to take them to Cordonia, but she hadn’t touched a single one of them ever since she left New York.

Riley rummaged her trunk and pulled out six leather-bound notebooks. “Here they are. All the way back from the time I moved to New York.”

“Now, why don’t you give them to Liam as an apology gift?” Charlotte proposed.

“What?” Riley shouted. “Are you insane?!”

“Why not? I know you are paranoid enough not to put any names on those, and yet they are personal enough for him to see you’re making an effort to reach out. Besides, they’re the most genuine piece of yourself we can afford to give him right now.”

“That… That…” Riley stuttered while the wheels of her brain turned. “That might be actually a good idea.”

“I’m full of those today.” Charlotte said, smugly. “Now, come, we have to re-do your make-up and accessorize with this dress. Lord, for as much Bertrand is a stick-in-the-mud, he really has no sense of style!”

Riley giggled. “He really don’t. All that ‘country lord’ look of his isn’t working on his favor.”

New York City, Summer 1979

Melissa payed her cabby and got out of the car. Her meager belongings, mostly clothing, were packed into a small, black bag.

She had just arrived from the airport, she was at her parents’ home, in Georgia, and it certainly did not end her way. Not that she really blames them, she had thrown them a bomb.

She had met Kristijan during her internship at the United Nations. She was working under the Spanish ambassador, while Kristijan was a guard to Lord Talmai Bartholomaios, the Cordonian envoy.

They had met when he helped her when she got lost on her way to a meeting at the UN. He had been posted there for over three years and could probably walk through those halls in his sleep. He had a rare afternoon off, as Lord Bartholomaios was otherwise engaged, so, after her meeting, they went out for a coffee and became friends.

After some outings through the city, they started dating. It was a whirlwind romance, one she threw herself into head first.

However, Labor Day was just around the corner, and Lord Bartholomaios was due to return to Cordonia, and Kristijan is supposed to go with. He had told her his ‘commander’, the head of the security services he wasn’t allowed to disclose, was impressed with his work, and offered him a superior position, one that required him to move back to his homeland, permanently.

Facing the possibility of never seeing each other again, Kristijan proposed to Melissa last Friday night. She said she had to talk it over with her family first and promised him an answer the following Monday.

Today.

She used the card key Kristijan had given her and waltzed into the hotel. She went up to his floor and knocked on his door.

He answers her with a grin and a: “Melissa, you’re back!”

“Let’s do it, Kristijan!” She said, overwhelmed. “Let’s go to Cordonia! Let’s get married!”

She didn’t give him time to respond, as she kissed him passionately.

It might be against every ounce of reason in her body, but Melissa Walker was in love.

Applewood, Neokastron, Cordonia, Fall 2015

An hour later, Riley snuck off to Liam’s chambers. No-one saw her, as the servants were busy with preparations for the party downstairs, while the noblepeople were in their rooms dressing up.

She knocked three times, slow and steadily, waiting for a response. After a moment, a tortured ‘Enter!’ was heard from the other side of the heavy, engraved doors.

Prompted, she pushed the heavy doors weakly, as if she was afraid of it disturbing someone’s sleep. The room behind it looked the part, as its thick curtains were drawn, letting none of the sunset light into the room. The bed was also disheveled, as if none of the servants remembered to make it that morning.

Sat on a chair, with his back turned to the door, sat Liam. He had a glass on his hand and a tumbler on the coffee table in front of him, the brown color of the liquid suggested it was bourbon.

“If you came here to tell me I should be getting ready for dinner, pass along the message to my father I will be out shortly.” His tired voice rasped through the room.

“I did not come here to tell you that.” Riley said, in a meek tone. “Though, I can try to reach the King.”

“Riley!” The blond exclaimed, turning to see her. “What are you doing here?”

The woman sighed. “I came here to talk. To apologize, actually. I said some things I shouldn’t have, and I overreacted a little about… that.”

He gaped. “No, no, you were right, I shouldn’t have read that file. I just got scared and did something stupid, and when you caught me, I got scared again and just made everything worse. I should be the one to apologize.”

“Let’s agree we were both on the wrong, then.” She offered. “Regardless, I haven’t been doing a very good job of soothing your worries. You felt the need to read that file because I don’t talk about the past often, and while you’ve never asked, I also haven’t been going out of my way to tell you about it either.

“I don’t do that because it is painful for me to remember. Not the thing about my mother or my aunt and uncle, but for me it feels like every step of the way so far have been difficult somehow, and I just keep hoping for the next to be easier, to be painless. For me to be able to do that, I have to try and forget a little bit of the past and try to move forward, without looking back.

“When I moved to New York, I got into a little of a rough path and I found that writing my feelings helped sorting them out. So, I want you to keep these.” She handed him the six notebooks.

Liam inspected the objects. “What are these?”

“Those are my journals. Six years-worth of them, from the time I moved to New York to the day before I’ve met you. I haven’t written on them ever since I arrived, though, because every day seems more hectic then the one before, so…” She trailed off.

He placed them neatly on the coffee table, away from the tumbler and the glass of booze. “Are you sure you want me to read them?” He looked deep into her charcoal eyes.

“No, I’m not.” She said, honestly. “But I’m sure I want to give you, us, a sincere attempt, and if that’s what it takes, then so be it.”

Liam quickly crossed the distance between them and hugged her tightly. “Thank you, Riley.” He whispers into her hair. “Thank you for being so kind and patient with me, even when I don’t deserve it.”

He kissed her deeply, making her knees go weak.

Palace of the Brigades, Avlona, Cordonia, Summer 1984

Melissa had her finest dress on, and her little child was also dress impeccably. She lived at the Brigades for five years, now, but she wasn’t quite used to the idea of royalty, and the prospect of actually meeting one made her giggly.

She walked over to some French doors, where Bastien, one of her husband’s apprentices, waited stoically for her.

“Good afternoon, Bastien.” She greeted, amicably. More than once the young man has had a meal with them at their apartment on the service lodge of the palace, and both Kristijan and Melissa had a soft spot for the boy.

“Good afternoon, ma’am.” He smiled at her. “Your Majesty waits for you.”

“Lead the way!”

He nodded and opened the door for her. It leads into a small drawing room, in which the Queen have had served some tea and biscuits.

The young royal rose to her feet, with some difficulty, taking upon account she was heavily pregnant, and greeted her. “Madam Walker, I am very glad you took upon my invitation this afternoon.”

Melissa’s face probably betrayed the frantic thoughts running through her head. “Y-Your Majesty!” She bowed hastily. “It is I who is glad about your invitation!”

She laughed softly. “Please, call me Carmela. We are alone, and I was hoping we could have a more relaxed conversation.”

“Of course, ma’am. I mean, Carmela.” It was rather strange calling a girl younger than herself ‘ma’am’, after all.

“Great!” She smiled. “Is this little Drake I hear so much about?” The blue-blooded approached the carriage, where the boy slept soundly. “How old is he again?”

“Six months.” The woman answered, with a soft smile. “He was born in late Fall last year.”

“How adorable.” She gushed. “Pardon me, I have the baby fever. I must run poor Bastien haggard with all my questions about all the mothers at the palace.”

Melissa giggled. “I remember how I was with Drake. I spent the day looking through baby clothes catalogs and pregnancy books. When are you due?”

“The doctors say All-Hallows, but I think this one’s going to be an early bird.” She patted her own protuberant stomach fondly. “I’m thinking of naming him Liam if it’s a boy.”

The other did a small double-take at the revelation. “It is different in Cordonia.”

“It is unusual in Italy as well.” She dismissed, with a faint smile. “But I’m a fan of Liam Clancy. Constantine’s going to take some convincing, though.”

“I thought the King wanted something more traditional.”

Carmela shrugged. “Some Greek mouthful, yes.” She poured two cups of tea and handed one to Melissa. “Speaking of things unusual, I never expected to see a surname like Kristijan’s in Cordonia. Walker,” She tested on her tongue, with her foreign accent. “It’s English, right?”

“It’s actually my name.” Melissa pointed out. “Kristijan said his surname carried a stigma in Cordonia, and he wanted to change it when we married.”

“Oh, my! There’s so much I know not.” Carmela commented. “Was it Slavic? I’ve noticed our Serbian subjects are very hostile to our rule. It would make sense for Kristijan to change it when he joined our employment.”

The other woman shook her head. “No, it was Greek. Bunas, after the river.”

“No, it doesn’t ring any bells.” She commented.

“How about the social season, ma’am?” She tried to change the subject. “You’ll probably be bed-ridden by then.”

“Don’t tell me.” She grimaced. “It would be my first one as Queen. Fortunately, Constantine is able to attend alone the events elsewhere. What worries me are the ceremonies held here at the Brigades. Which reminds me, Melissa?”

“Yes?” The woman responded.

“You were a diplomat once, right? Before marrying?”

She laughed uncomfortably. “I wouldn’t say that. I worked at an embassy, and I have a degree in International Relations.”

“But you do understand about ceremonials?”

“I suppose? Somewhat, at least.” Melissa said.

Carmela smiled broadly. “Great! You see, I was looking for a secretary, to help me with the preparations for the season. I would do it myself, but with the pregnancy and everything…” She trailed off.

The woman made a double-take. “Are you sure you want me?”

“Of course. You know the ropes, and I know I can trust you. It is more I can say about any other woman in this house.” The monarch answered. “And you will be paid handsomely for the job.”

Melissa weighs her options. As the wife of Kristijan, she was not allowed to take employment outside the palace and caring for Drake full time get really boring fast. Besides, with the money, they could save for retirement, which came early for royal bodyguards.

“Okay. I’m in.” The eldest smiled.

Applewood, Neokastron, Cordonia, Fall 2015

Riley arrived at dinner rigorously on time, perfectly composed and her head held high. Liam wasn’t with her, staying behind as in not to arise suspicion, but aside from him, all of the guests at the chateau were already in attendance.

Servants bustle about, keeping the tables freshly stocked with foods and drinks. Over a couple of tables, a few girls conversed in rushed tones.

“The King and the Queen seemed quite taken with you today, Lady Madeleine.” Some random suitor commented with said blonde.

She smirked. “They respect my opinions. And I believe we have a lot in common. I hope I’ll have the support and respect of all the ladies of the court if I’m chosen.”

The tone of her ‘if’ portrayed no doubt.

Penelope sat next to the pair and whispered back: “To tell you the truth, I think Lady Riley may be the one to be chosen, and I think she would be a wonderful queen.”

As much as Penelope’s heart was in the right place, that certainly wasn’t the moment to make that kind of statement. Much less to Madeleine, who frowned quite pronouncedly: “I suppose you are entitled to have your own opinion.” She said.

Charlotte waved at her, as if they were just meeting. Riley started walking over to her, also keeping up the appearances, when she crossed paths with Tariq.

“Good evening, Tariq.” She greeted, politely.

“Lady Riley.” He nodded, acknowledging. “It is always a pleasure seeing you.”

“A rare one, it seems. How have you been?” She engaged in conversation. Bertrand would be proud.

He laughed. “Indeed. I’ve been as splendid as you look, my dear.”

“You seem flirty tonight.” She pointed out.

“It comes from the deepest recesses of my being.” He winked. “This event can hardly bear a star as bright as yours.”

Riley thought it to be strange behavior from the young nobleman but preferred not to probe. She has enemies enough, no need going out and making more. “Thank you, Tariq. You flatter me.”

“It feels me with joy to hear you say that.” He beamed. “You know, I have to tell you, after talking to most of the other ladies here, I find myself having nurtured such an… appreciation for you. You are like a breath of New York fresh air.”

Knowing those same girls he speaks of, Riley can only agree to the sentiment, even if the phrasing is hardly ideal. “I don’t think anyone says that.”

“The other suitors are absolutely boring.” He admonished. “One talks only about her dogs, another merely sulks to the corners. And don’t get me started on Olivia.”

“Some of the other girls have their charms.” Riley weighed.

Tariq scoffed. “If they do, I have yet to find them. They have good breeding, wealth and manners, but they’re absolutely dull. How disappointing.”

There it was. Tariq the Plutocrat. Riley was starting to worry he had banged his head at some table corner.

He, however, wasn’t done: “Whereas with you, Lady Riley, you grow more interesting every time we speak. I must, however, take my leave. May you have a fantastic evening.”

Tariq bows and left, while Maxwell approaches.

“There’s our little social star!” He greets, with an unusual dose of excitement. “Is that Tariq you were talking to?”

“Yeah, and it was weird.” She commented, while looking at the place the young middle-eastern left empty.

“Strange?” Maxwell inquired, confused. “How so?”

“He was so amicable! And before today, we barely talked.”

The man tutted. “I’ll keep an eye on him. Now, come, Bertrand and I got a table this way.”

Palace of the Brigades, Avlona, Cordonia, Spring 1993

Melissa was sitting on the kitchen table. The dinner was served, and the children already ate. Drake and Savannah were at the conjoined living room, having their TV time.

Kristijan was late for dinner, again. Melissa knew his patrol schedule was messy, but he had said he would be home that evening. She tapped her fingers against the table, anger and hungry, as she had been kind enough to wait for him.

She sighed angrily and walked over to the living room. “Kids,” She told them while turning off the TV. “It’s bed time.”

“But, mommy!” Little Savannah complains. “Daddy isn’t here yet!”

The woman sighed once more. Her husband gave her nothing but trouble. “I know, darling. But it’s late, it’s way past the time for little girls to be in bed.”

She pouted. “I’m not a little girl anymore.”

“I’m sorry, Miss Grown-Up.” She smiled at her daughter’s antics. “Tell you what, go to bed now and I’ll have daddy giving you a good-night kiss when he gets here, ‘kay?”

“’Kay…” Savannah caved and walked over to the bedroom she shared with his older brother.

“Drake?” The woman called.

“Yeah?” He grumbled. Sometimes, she swore that boy was born sour.

“Watch your sister, okay? I’ll go over to the kitchens, but I’ll be right back.”

He looked at her warily but nodded his head. She kissed his hair and went out the front door.

Closing and locking her apartment’s door for security, she started walking down the hall. However, instead of going down to the kitchens like she said she would, Melissa walked over to the bachelors’ wing and knocked on an apartment’s door.

A man came out. “Mrs. Walker?” He asks, confused. “What are you doing here?”

“Bastien, you’re on the night shift tonight, aren’t you?” She inquired, feverishly.

“Yeah, I was going out right now.” He said. “Why? Do you need anything?”

“Actually, I do.” She smirked, with a hint of crazy in her eyes. “I need you to take me to the Queen’s chambers. It’s where you’re supposed to switch guard, isn’t it?”

He looked at the woman he so deeply respected and cared for. Bastien was sure that if she was asking such a thing, she had a legitimate reason for it, no matter how unorthodox. “Follow me.” He said and led the way.

On a hurried place, they made their way through the labyrinthine, ghastly hallways of the Brigades at nighttime. When they arrived at the heavy, mahogany doors of the quarters, Melissa eyed Bastien for him to make himself scarce.

The look he gave in response said that he would not hinder her, but he sure wasn’t leaving.

It was his own peril. Taken by murderous rage, she opened the door and walked right into the room. Unfortunately for Melissa, she saw exactly what she was looking for.

She picked up a shirt laid on the ground and placed on her nose. She knew that aftershave anywhere. She let it fall to her feet as she walks over to the bed. The couple laying there was fast asleep.

Melissa sat on a chair by the dresser and turned on the lamp. She took a good look at the face of the man resting on there. Tan skin, shaved neatly, but with a defined, rugged, hairy chest.

She picked up a heel on the floor and admired it. A dark blue, satin Zanotti, with silver fastenings. A beautiful shoe for a beautiful woman. Melissa twirled it by the heel, and then threw at the man.

He woke up, of course, startled. His eyes focused on her: “Melissa! What are you doing here?”

Her eyes glinted with the light of the lamp. “Why, Kristijan, you’re late for dinner. I came looking for you.”

The woman woke up, dizzy, and looked over at Melissa. “What is the meaning of this?!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Regina, did I wake you up?” She asks, sickly sweet. “Now you can join us.”

“I would ever.” She admonished. “Have some respect!”

Melissa clicked her tongue and shook her head. “Oh, Regina, I find it terribly funny how you Cordonians think everybody owe you respect. When will you learn respect is earned?”

She leaned over the bed, over Kristijan, and whispered to her: “Don’t try evoking any Laws of Exception on me. I’m not a Cordonian citizen. You can’t throw me on jail.”

The Queen fumed but did not say a thing. Kristijan, however, pulled her away and stood up. He was as naked as the day he was born, his intimacy hanging limp by his leg.

He tugged on her arm, and whispered menacingly: “Let’s go, Melissa.”

“I’m going, I’m going.” She wriggled her arm away, and then lowered her sight to his genitalia. “But I think you should change first. I know you clearly don’t really care who see your bits, but some people may.”

She stood up and started to leave. Kristijan came after her, thankfully using some underwear, shouting: “Melissa! Melissa, wait!”

“What?!” She turned and barked.

“Just hear me out, okay?!” He said, frozen in place by her glare.

“What are going to say, huh?! It wasn’t what it looked like?!” She shouted, the sound bounced from the walls and empty rooms.

He sighed. “It is what it looked like. Or not, I don’t know. I did sleep with the Queen, I have been sleeping with her for some time, too. But what did you want me to do? She’s the Queen, for Christ’s sake!”

“I wanted you to keep it in your pants. I expected you to keep your vows. I expected you to, at least, tell me what was going on.” She said, cold.

He scoffed. “And then what? You think I’d still have a job here? A place to live?”

“We would find a way, Kristijan!” She shouted, frustrated. “I’m not an invalid!”

He sighed one more time. “What now?”

“I’m going back to the US.” She said, seriously. “I’m taking the kids. There’s nothing for us here anymore.”

With that, Melissa left, and Kristijan did not try to stop her.

Applewood, Neokastron, Cordonia, Fall 2015

Riley followed Maxwell to the table and sat down between him and Charlotte, who accompanied them on that meal.

Soon enough, the sound of glass clinking fell through the al-fresco dining area. Everyone then turns to the source of the noise, which was the figure of Prince Liam, standing up next to Constantine and Regina.

“If I may have everyone’s attention, I’d like to say a few words before we serve the main course.” The blond announced. “First, I would like to thank everyone for joining us out here at the country estate. I had the honor and privilege of having you in my court, and I could not ask for better company.

“As I step into my father’s place in the next few weeks, I can only hope I am half the man he was for Cordonia.”

“Long live Prince Liam!” Maxwell pulls the chant, followed by claps and cheers by all attendees.

“Thank you all.” Liam bowed. “When we next meet like this, it will be on the next event of the season, the traditional New Year’s party hosted by the illustrious House Beaumont.”

The crowd applauds, and Maxwell hollered: “Woo-hoo!” He then turns to Riley. “I can’t wait to show you the manor.”

“Maxwell, aren’t we a little strapped for cash right now?” She asks, concerned. “Can we afford hosting a party this big right now?”

He grimaced. “I don’t think we have a choice. Like Liam said, it’s tradition. We can’t back out now.”

“Yes. If we back out, we might as well announce to the whole world we are officially ruined!” Bertrand barked.

“Bertrand has a point.” Charlotte pointed out. “The manor house is big and opulent enough, we’ll be fine as long as we keep them busy. If the food is a little lacking, I bet no-one will notice.”

As the applause dies out, Liam continues: “The Beaumonts will surely give us another legendary night to remember. Until then, I thank you once again and wish you a good night.”

Palace of the Brigades, Avlona, Cordonia, Spring 1993

The Walker family, the personnel of the palace division of the Security Services and the Royal Family was congregated at the chapel within the Brigade Hill, honoring a sacrifice of one of their own.

As per request, there would be no speeches, no talking, no medals. There would only be a prayer conducted by the chaplain, which was over. The people were walking on a line, saying their condolences to the widow, standing by the casket.

After a big group of maids, security guards and other relatives payed their respects, there came the turn of the Royal Family. The youngest boy, Liam, was spared from the ceremony, thankfully.

Melissa couldn’t spare Drake of many uncomfortable comparisons he was subject to as the ‘common’ friend of one of the Princes, but the absence of a parent was a circumstance she really hadn’t considered to face up to a few weeks before.

Then, when Kristijan’s sins had come to light, Melissa was ready for filing divorce. She had bought the plane tickets, prepared the kids’ passports, wired her savings, called some relatives. And now she was a widow.

The first one to offer his sentiments was Prince Leo. The teenaged aristocrat couldn’t be bothered to play the part appropriately, appearing bored throughout the ceremony. Though, it was fair to say he would have rather for Kristijan to have failed on his mission.

Following him, there was Constantine. He hugged her softly, and said, on a low tone: “Your husband died a hero. The Royal Family has an eternal debt to you, ma’am.”

Then, it was the face she dreaded the most. Regina. Her dead husband’s lover. The woman he died to protect. There was something salacious, belonging to a cheap paperback novel, having such an encounter.

She was wearing a black, embroidered silk dress, her head covered with a shawl and a Spanish mother-of-pearl clasp. As she often does, Regina was asserting her power with subtlety.

The royal approached her and whispered softly to her ear. “I want to see you out of this country by nightfall. Take your snotty twerps with you.”

“Say, Regina, doesn’t your husband find most strange for you to be all alone with Kristijan on the gardens? At the middle of the night?” She asks, with a smirk.

“Are you really threatening me?” She barked.

“Not at all, Your Majesty. I am merely showing you I am not without my own bite.” She said, neutral. “But rest assured, by this time tomorrow, I’ll be far away from your sight.”

The Queen huffs and backs off her.

Applewood, Neokastron, Cordonia, Fall 2015

Riley walked down the hallway leading to her chambers. She was alone, as Bertrand and Maxwell were busy arranging their suitcases, and Charlotte said she would retire early.

Speaking of the Beaumonts, they said they would be spending their Christmas on a ski lodge in Switzerland. Given the price of the room and the fact the holiday was upon them, Bertrand made it clear she wasn’t invited. Charlotte said she could spend the week in Italy with her, but Riley knew how it was at her place, and she had her fill of aristocratic parties.

She reached her door and opened it. “Charlotte!” She called. “I’m here.”

The room was empty. Shrugging, Riley tried to lock the door, but the lock seemed stuck. As it was very late, the two women would have to make do with a chair against the handle.

Deciding to place it only after Charlotte’s return, Riley started taking off her clothing and her bodice. Butt-naked, she put on a silk robe and started walking over to the dresser to remove her make-up.

It was when she heard the door open and shut. “Is it you?” She called, distracted.

“It is I, love, and good Lord! Disrobing in my room! What a forward gesture. I like it.”

It wasn’t Charlotte’s voice. Riley turned to the intruder and shouted: “Tariq! What the Hell are you doing here?!”

“Please don’t misunderstand. I’m not upset. I’m just surprised. I suspected, but I’ve never thought it would happen so soon.” He said, approaching her.

She tried to cover herself better, while taking a step back. “Tariq, I think there’s something wrong here…”

He takes her hand and places over his heart. “No, I must say this! Your feelings are most ardently returned! You’ve enchanted me just as you enchant everybody you come across, and now I know you feel the same way about me.”

She raises an eyebrow at him. “About that…”

Before she can say anything else, he lowers his head and take her mouth into a kiss.

Riley starts trying to push him away, when the door is pushed open and a figure launch itself into Tariq.

“Get away from her!” The deep voice commands, pining the middle-eastern man away from her by the shoulder.

“Unhand me!” Tariq spats back. “How dare you enter my room without my permission!”

“He’s one to say!” Riley sneered to herself, as Tariq punches the figure squarely on the face. Just then she is able to take a good look to the man, who reveals himself to be Drake.

The commoner reels back for a split second and then tackles the nobleman to the ground. They grapple intensely for a second until they pull apart.

“Who the Hell do you think you are busting into my room?!” Tariq shouts, angry.

“This is Riley’s room!” Drake spats back. “And I heard her screaming, I think she wanted the interruption.”

“Oh, God!” She ran her hand through her hair. “Tariq, someone pulled a prank on you. I’m not, in any way, interested in you, I’m sorry.”

He looked at her with puppy eyes. “So, this isn’t going to be the bold, romantic beginning to our love story?”

“No.” She doubled the ‘o’, shaking her head.

He sighed and tried to gather whatever little dignity he had. “I see. Let me deeply apologize here. I’m so sorry for this transgression. I was incredibly wrong. Now, before I can humiliate myself any further, let me take my leave. Good night, Lady Riley. Whomever has your heart, he is indeed a lucky man.”

As the man leaves, Drake slams the door shut behind him.

Riley threw herself on the bed, covering her face with her hands. “Before I bemoan my luck, thanks, Drake. If you hadn’t intervened, I would have kicked him in the nuts and it everything would be worse.”

“Aw, shucks, Flowers, don’t go soft on me now.” He sideline-smirked at her. “I’ll always be here for you. Because of Liam, of course.”

She sat up straight and looked at him. “What Liam got to do with anything?”

“Liam would never forgive me if something… bad… happened to you.” He sighed and withered under her inquisitive look. “And I wouldn’t forgive myself, either.”

She smirked, defiantly, at him, while he averts his eyes, embarrassed.

He clears his throat. “Anyways, you can see why it looked bad. I heard a scream and I saw you half-naked, with Tariq all over you…” He trailed off. “Are you okay, though.”

“I’m fine.” She said, earnestly.

“Well, I should get out of here before we really cause a scandal.” He said, and turned to leave when he winced in pain, clutching at his side.

“You’re hurt.” She pointed out.

He dismissed it with a: “Nothing some whiskey won’t heal.”

“Come on, big boy, I’ve got some ice.” She said, motioning for him to sit on the bed.

He smirked. “You trying to get me to take my shirt off, Flowers?”

“I am succeeding.” She smirked at him. “Chop-chop, I don’t have all night.”

“You have a real bossy side to you.” He murmurs while obeying her order.

“Take it to someone who cares.” She rolled her eyes, picked up a handkerchief and some ice, and started evaluating the bruise.

“So, doc, do you see anything alarming?” He asks, ironic.

“Other than the fact you bruise like a peach, it seems you’ll be okay.” She said, snarky.

He scoffed. “Tariq hits harder than you’d think.”

Riley laughed, ironically, while standing up. “I can’t believe you lost a fight to Tariq!”

“I didn’t say I lost! I never said that!” He defended, desperately. “I definitively won, I’m just saying he got in some good hits and I didn’t expect that from a palace brat.”

“Whatever floats your boat.” She smirked.

From Drake’s point of view, the moonlight coming from her window framed her profile. Her petite, princess-like nose and superior smirk were features he was sure he was supposed to despise, but it seemed right on her, like if it was supposed to be so.

Drake runs his fingers through his hair. “You can be so…” He started, but then lost his nerve. “Never mind. Hey, aren’t you supposed to be treating my wounds?”

“Before I ice your wounds, wouldn’t you like something to drink?” She offered. “Lest of all you bitch when I put it on your rib.”

“Hit me.”

She walked over to the bar and poured two glasses of whiskey on the rocks. Handing him one of them, she says: “I wouldn’t make you drink alone.”

“Heh. Thanks.” He smirks.

Drake downs his glass as Riley presses the ice against his body. “Hey! It hurts!” He complains.

“Grow a pair!” She bit back but pressed more gently the ice.

Drake turns and catches her eye. After a long second, he lowers his gaze. “Thanks.” He breathed out and paused. “I know I don’t act very grateful for anything most of the time, but I do… care about you.”

“Mighty way to show it.” She complains. “Most of the time you act like you hate me.”

“I do not.” He defended.

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Drake.”

“Okay, I do, don’t I?” He sighed. “It’s not personal. It’s just… easier that way.”

“Easier? For whom?” She questions while keeping up with the ministrations.

“You’re here for Prince Liam. All of the suitors are. And, well, so is the entire court. All the nobles, all the servants, even. Everything and everyone in this place exists to orbit around Liam. You could almost hate him for it, if he weren’t so damn likeable. It’s dangerous for people like you and me to forget about that.” He grumbled the last part.

“Where are you getting at, Drake?”

“Hell, Flowers. Don’t make me say it.” He whispers and gulps down his drink. “If we’d met somewhere else, anywhere else. At a club in New York, or in the airport, or at a party… If you hadn’t been our waitress that night, and I hadn’t been sitting next to Liam… Do you think it would be different?”

“Drake, Drake, Drake.” A woman’s voice came from the door. The two of them broke apart, and faced the source of the sound, which was Charlotte’s frame. “Don’t you ever tire of being a whiny, charity case? Because I do, constantly.” She sneered.

“Fuck you, Rosenberg.” He barked at her.

“Drakey-poo is mad? How sad!” She ironized. “Let me answer this one for Little Miss Flowers over here. It wouldn’t be any different. You know why? Because you’ll always be the same, you’ll always look over your shoulder, worried that Liam will take your happiness away from you, that they will move on to greener pastures. And so, you make their lives a living Hell, so when they finally leave, you can act like if you had known all along.”

He lunged at her, and it seemed like he was going to hit her, but he lowered his hand and said on a dangerous tone: “You are just some left-over, bitter, society wife. Look yourself in the mirror before preaching about my life.”

With that, he left the bedroom.

Charlotte then shuts the door. Riley runs over to her. “God gracious, Charlotte! Where were you?”

“Constantine called me over to his study. He was trying to negotiate part of their debt.” She said, dismissive. “What is more interesting is why Walker was here in the first place.”

Riley then explained everything to Charlotte about what had happened that night. The blonde walks over to the door to check it. “Riley, I locked the door on my way out.”

“But it was open when I arrived!” She said, nervously.

“Check the trunk!” The blonde commanded.

It was still locked, with no signs of forced entry. “It seems our secret is safe, at least.”

Charlotte was fretful, still. “Regardless, there’s blood in the water. Come, we’re leaving now.”

The two girls packed everything on the room quickly, and on the silence of the night, they fled Applewood.

Atlanta, Georgia, Summer 2010

A middle-aged man climbed slowly the stairs. He was struggling with the steps, having been hindered with a crutch. Unfortunately for him, the building had no elevators and his destination was on the fifth floor.

It was a very important meeting, which is why he had come from so far away, and the delicacy of the matter had him prescinding of his assistant.

When he finally reached the floor, he stopped for a moment, to catch his breath and to dispel his flustering. He wiped his forehead with a handkerchief, as Georgia was much warmer than he had expected. Then, he continued his walk and knocked on an apartment door.

A woman answers. “Hello. How may I help you?”

He cleared his throat and asks: “Are you Melissa Walker?”

Her face paled. “Who are you?”

“I am Ludwig von Rosenberg.“ He said, solemn. “I wish to speak about your husband.”

Red Rose - Masterlist

<< Last Chapter Next Chapter (TBR) >>

Taglist: @boneandfur; @mfackenthal

#red rose #the royal romance

20 notes · View notes

callunavulgari · 7 years ago

Text

Scrapbook 2018

Scrapbook for 2018! A reminder, for myself and others-

Italicized titles = enjoyed muchly, bold titles = love, titles with an asterisk* = OBSESSION and titles in (brackets) are re-watches/re-reads. And lastly, strikethough = DISLIKE.

Goals are: read forty-five new books this year, finish six video games, write either 30 fics or 70k total, finish the damn Sabriel AU, and write something original.

MOVIES

January

(Guardians of the Galaxy 2)

Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell No Tales

February

(LOTR: Fellowship)

(Wonder Woman)

Black Panther

Annihilation

March

The Ritual

Cloverfield Paradox

Pacific Rim Uprising

A Wrinkle In Time

(Star Wars: The Force Awakens)

(IT)

(Star Wars: The Last Jedi)

April

Wolf Children

Moonlight

The Red Turtle

Europa Report

Avengers: Infinity War

May

A Quiet Place

Alien

Deadpool 2

The Conjuring

BOOKS

January

A Tale For The Time Being | Ruth Ozeki

La Belle Sauvage | Phillip Pullman [Fin]

London Falling | Paul Cornell

A Swiftly Tilting Planet | Madeline L’Tengle [Fin]

In Other Lands | Sarah Rees Brennan [Fin]

They Both Die In The End | Adam Silvera [Fin]

Thunderhead | Neal Shusterman [Fin]

The Sun and Her Flowers | Rupi Kaur [Fin]

The Paper Magician | Charlie Holmberg

February

A Tale For The Time Being | Ruth Ozeki [Fin]

The Diviners | Libba Bray [Fin]

The Paper Magician | Charlie Holmberg [Fin]

We Were Liars | E Lockhart [Fin]

Lair of Dreams | Libba Bray [Fin]

The Tropic of Serpents | Marie Brennan

The Goblin Emperor | Katherine Addison

I Am: Seventeen Brushes With Death | Maggie O’Farrell [Fin]

Norse Mythology | Neil Gaiman [Fin]

Phasma | Delilah Dawson

Caraval | Stephanie Garber

March

The Tropic of Serpents | Marie Brennan

The Goblin Emperor | Katherine Addison [Fin]

Phasma | Delilah Dawson [Fin]

Caraval | Stephanie Garber [Fin]

Tess of the Road | Rachel Hartman [Fin]

Clariel | Garth Nix [Fin]

Seraphina | Rachel Hartman [Fin]

Before The Devil Breaks You | Libba Bray

April

Before The Devil Breaks You | Libba Bray [Fin]

The Tropic of Serpents | Marie Brennan

Salt to the Sea | Ruta Sepetys [Fin]

The Wicked Deep | Shea Ernshaw [Fin]

Hamlet | William Shakespeare [Fin]

Fangirl | Rainbow Rowell [Fin]

The Scorpion Rules | Erin Bow [Fin]

The Thief | Megan Whalen Turner [Fin]

Hear The Wind Sing | Haruki Murakami [Fin]

May

The Tropic of Serpents | Marie Brennan [Fin]

Only Human | Sylvain Neuvel [Fin]

World War Z | Max Brooks [Fin]

The Queen of Attolia | Megan Whalen Turner [Fin]

The Stand | Stephen King

Shadow Scale | Rachel Hartman [Fin]

London Falling | Paul Cornell [Fin]

Goldenhand | Garth Nix [Fin]

PODCASTS

January:

N/A

February

N/A

March

The Bright Sessions (Eps 30-41)

Wolf 359 (Eps 5-8)

King Falls AM (Eps 5-6)

April

The Bright Sessions (Eps 41-52)

Wolf 359 (Eps 8-13)

King Falls AM (Eps 6-7)

Penumbra Podcast (Episode 1)

May

Wolf 359 (Eps 14-49)

The Bright Sessions (53-55)

TV SHOWS BY SEASON

January:

Planet Earth II

Devilman Crybaby

Steven Universe s4

Brooklyn Nine-Nine s1

RWBY s5

(Stranger Things 2)

The Orville

(The X-Files)

The Flash s3

February

The Flash s3

Brooklyn Nine-Nine

The Gifted

The Good Place

The Runaways

AP Bio

March

Voltron s5

(Soul Eater)

Battlestar Galactica

(Sailor Moon)

Cardcaptor Sakura: Clear Cards

Bride of the Ancient Magus

Kabaneri of the Iron Fortress

April

Battlestar Galactica

Legion

The Flash

AP Bio

(Yu Yu Hakusho)

Persona 5 Animation

Westworld s2

May

Westworld s2

Legion

The Flash

Lost In Space s1

Persona 5 Animation

Siren s1

Steven Universe s5

VIDEO GAMES

January:

Prey (18 hrs)

Horizon Zero Dawn: The Frozen Wilds (20 hrs, FIN)

Monster Hunter World (8 hrs)

February

Monster Hunter World (25 hrs)

Kingdom Hearts BBS (1 hr)

March

Monster Hunter World (25 hrs)

Witcher 3 [FIN JFC]

Stellaris

Life Is Strange

April

Life Is Strange

Final Fantasy 12: Zodiac Age

Dragon Age: Inquisition (Dany - 98 hrs; Brienne - 5 hrs)

May

Dragon Age: Inquisition (Dany - 138 hrs - FIN; Brienne - 5 hrs)

SOMA

Witcher 3: Hearts of Stone DLC

DELIGHTFUL FIC

January:

Just the One, Two by Panny | Jessica Jones | Jessica/Trish | 10k They say you should never meet your heroes, but what about when you've been sort of in love with them since they broke your mother's marble sink?

Daylight by @notbecauseofvictories | Star Wars | Rey/Luke | 3k “Can I ask what you think it is you’re doing?” Luke says. His voice is only a little strangled. The silence that falls in its place is awkward, thick as sand. “Oh,” Rey stutters out. “Is that not—?” “No,” Luke grits out. “Please put your clothes back on.”

run all the lights by @fahye | Captive Prince | Damen/Laurent | 8.5k He’s a slim, too-pretty boy of twenty, and the men of this particular underworld talk about him as though he’s an open flame, a sparking engine near a pool of gasoline: volatile, and not to be handled. Kid’s got balls of sheer fucking steel, Damen’s contact said. Which must be true, because having just lost a race against Damen for pink slips, Laurent looks him straight in the eye and says, “Double or nothing?” in a voice like vodka poured straight from the freezer.

They Say It's Mighty Fine by apocryphal | Teen Wolf | Sterek | 23k "Hello. This is Alpha Vernon Boyd, calling from Camp Remus about—""Derek?" Talia asks, confused. "You're calling about Derek? Is he okay? What happened?""Oh, boy." Melissa blows out a breath. "All right. Is he hurt?""He's been there for two hours, what could he possibly have—" John pauses. "Hang on, Camp Remus? Like the werewolf camp?"

León de mi Corazón by clockheartedcrocodile | The Exorcist | Tomas/Marcus | 16k | Not for the first time, Marcus wishes he were a poet. Tomas drinks up beautiful words like wine, practically thrives on them. He thinks of his own clumsy attempt at a letter, begun and re-begun until the whole thing had been consigned to the rubbish bin. It was laughable.Besides, he thinks, Tomas and Jessica wrote letters because they could not have each other.“You have me,” he says, quiet enough that Tomas won’t wake.

Things Worth Knowing by Femme (femmequixotic) | HP | Drarry | 163k After the Battle, Harry thinks he's left Hogwarts for good, but Minerva insists that all students return for an Eighth Year if they wish to sit for NEWTs in the spring, and Harry needs those NEWTs to go into the Aurors. Draco's just grateful not to be in Azkaban. Or the Manor. He's hoping he can steer clear of Potter this year and grapple with his own problems.

Under the Covers by ToAStranger | Stranger Things | Steve/Billy | 72k Steve is (maybe) a little bit still in love with Nancy Wheeler and (maybe) trying to figure himself out-- between the night terrors and the babysitting and the general weirdness that is Hawkins, Indiana-- before he graduates.Billy Hargrove fits in there somewhere (probably).

the party never ends by brawlite | Stranger Things | Steve/Billy | 7k Billy wants a fight from Steve Harrington. He'll do just about anything to get it, too.

February

what a wicked game you played (to make me feel this way) by brawlite, ToAStranger | Stranger Things | Steve/Billy | WIP | Billy knew Steve Harrington would ruin him. Steve knew Billy Hargrove was nothing but trouble.They never expected it to end up like this.

don't just stand there by brawlite | Stranger Things | Steve/Billy | 3.5k Steve kisses a stranger in a club in a desperate attempt to spurn an advance from an unwanted admirer. Turns out, it's not really a stranger at all.

there's nothing wrong with me (loving you, baby) by ToAStranger | Stranger Things | Steve/Billy | 4.6k | “Mr. Hargrove,It has come to HR’s attention that you have, once again, used company property incorrectly. Please refrain from using the break room as a work out facility during your lunch hour. If you are in need a gym recommendation, I'm happy to provide you some. Remove your weights from the lower cabinets at your earliest convenience.Regards, S. Harrington”This isn’t the first ridiculous email Steve has had to send to Hargrove, and Steve sincerely doubts it will be his last.

in waves by lymricks | Stranger Things | Steve/Billy | 45k Plant your feet, Billy wants to scream at him. I’m going to bowl you over.

can't you see them? (can't you feel them?) by ToAStranger | Stranger Things | Billy/Steve | 8k | They're breathing down your neck.

Little Pockets of Upturned Loneliness by SeptemberEndings | Stranger Things | Gen | 5k | Months pass, and nothing bad happens to Will.

isizathu by black_nata | Black Panther | T’Challa/Erik | 8k | "What do you want?" T'Challa whispers. Almost like he's pleading. All Erik wants to do is wrap his fist around that smooth throat and make him beg some more.

falling for you in hawkins, indi-fucking-ana by LazyBaker | Stranger Things | Steve/Billy | 31k | Billy gets his shit together. Steve figures some stuff out. They fall in love.

thank god you see me the way you do by LazyBaker | Stranger Things | Steve/Billy | 6k | Five times Billy has had sex and one time he made love.

Secrets Make This Town by Oop | Stranger Things | Steve/Billy/Hopper | 5k | Hopper knows that Billy Hargrove sucks cock like he was born for it and he knows Steve Harrington is hung like a pornstar. He knows these by accident.

March

another city (better than this one) by notbecauseofvictories | Star Wars | Gen, Ben Solo & Lando | 6k | “You really should be more creative with your aliases,” Lando says mildly. “I’ve had every anagram of ‘Skywalker’ flagged since the first time you tried to run away from home.”

his hands so cold they shake by plinys | FBAWTFT | Percival/Credence | 4k | A soul mate is meant to be a blessing, but Percival feels anything but blessed.

We Keep Meeting by scioscribe | Hamilton | Hamilton & Burr | 4.5k | In which Hamilton finds himself a little more non-stop than even he expected, and Burr doesn't know why he's surprised that even death can't make Alexander Hamilton lie down and be quiet.

There Aren't Any Stars in the Sky by Ambrosia | Star Wars | Reylo | 4k | “Why are you here?” Rey asks. She appears to be meditating. Even his muscles remember the basics. Her eyes are peacefully closed.“Your mind is most open when you Jedi meditate, ‘letting everything go’,” he tells her, striding around in a vicious, predatory circle. “Which you would know if you had an at least halfway-competent teacher.”

Found Wanting by sellertape | The Bright Sessions | Mark/Damien | 2k | It didn’t take superpowers to know what Mark wanted him to say. He wanted him to lie. It didn’t take superpowers to get Damien to do what you wanted.

pull out the insides by SpineAndSpite | The Bright Sessions | Mark/Damien | 4k | “Stop,” Damien says again, more insistent this time.“I’m not doing it on purpose.” Mark's heart pounds in his ears and he sees Damien’s hands shaking. God. They shouldn’t have started talking about sex. Shouldn’t have filled in the colors and shadows to this pencil outline of a sketch forming between them. They shouldn’t have given it a name.

Life Is Not A Love Song by DetectiveJoan | The Bright Sessions | Mark/Damien | 4k | “Oh, you know the old saying — once bitten, twice mildly paranoid that everyone you’ve ever met is secretly working for the shady government agency that kidnapped you.” Mark's voice is sing-song through the dressing room door.

I Want You To Want Me by Ryuutchi | The Bright Sessions | Mark/Damien | 4k | Food, scotch, sex-- I don’t know, Damien; there's a lot of good things in life.

(coming for the king, that's) a far cry by lipgallagher | Stranger Things | Steve/Billy | 17k | billy and steve 'pretend' to be gay boyfriends in love for what is essentially just extremely small-time personal gain.

all these to me by lymricks | Stranger Things | Steve/Billy | 9k | Three times Steve and Billy share (a bed, a meal, the truth) and one time they share (a virus).

Until My Feet Bleed and My Heart Aches by Reiya | Yuri On Ice | Yuuri/Viktor | 197k | ‘…Of all the rivalries in the world of sports over the years, perhaps none has become so legendary as that of Russian figure skater Viktor Nikiforov and his rival, Japanese Yuuri Katsuki…’

no need to say goodbye by smolsarcasticraspberry | Voltron | Allura/Shiro | 13k | The juniberry tree blossoms every seven years, and when it does, a gateway opens up to another world - a world that Shiro first explores as a child. There, he meets Allura.

(shoot the lights out, hide) till its bright out by lipgallagher | Stranger Things | Billy/Steve | 50k | The most dangerous thing walking around Hawkins goes by the name Billy Hargrove. And he fucking knows it.

April

so this guy walks into a bar by MasterOfAllImagination | Pacific Rim | Newt/Hermann | 2.5k | “Bourbon,” Hermann says, hooking his cane on the edge of the bar and sliding by degrees onto a stool.“Straight up?” the bartender asks.“Please.” Does he look like the kind of man who enjoys having his nostrils fumigated by undiluted whiskey? “On the rocks.”

Seeing in Color by what_alchemy | Pacific Rim | Newt/Hermann | The Dr. Geiszler Hermann had found in the publications — printed pages worn with constant handling and tucked into his briefcase for easy access — was an eloquent scientist whose work functioned at a level far above almost anyone else Hermann had ever encountered in the field, and yet he neither patronized his readers nor expressed himself in the inexplicable jargon which so infected much academic work.

Strong Enough by therealraewest | Pacific Rim | Newt/Hermann | 4k | "I would like to speak to Newt."

Laying Siege by astolat | GOT | Jaime/Brienne | 8k | “Marry me instead,” Jaime said.

Fool by astolat | GOT | Jaime/Brienne | 15k | Jaime didn’t really expect things to go well when he rode north, but after all, they hadn’t been going well otherwise, so it wasn’t that much of a change.

heartstrings by taylortot | Miraculous Ladybug | Marinette/Adrien | 60k | one of marinette’s rare unlucky days turns into something treacherous. thanks to a certain cat, the real danger passes, but there are other things to be more afraid of. her heart, for example, might be one of them.

Words by astolat | GOT | Jaime/Brienne | 10k | “So we’ll look for you in the North," Robb Stark said, "coming to pay your debt."

nanna by biggrstaffbunch | Thor | Thor/Loki | 1k | Thor, after.

just in it for the game by grim_lupine | Thor | Thor/Loki | 6k | “It's excellent rehabilitation for my image,” Loki says, widening his eyes. “They love you, and because of that they'll trust me. You wouldn't ruin this for me, would you?”

May

these fragments by Wildehack (Tyleet) | Avengers | Loki/Valkyrie | 4k | “Someone has to survive this day,” Thor grinds out, pressed briefly close to her by the fight.“Someone will,” she tells him.

Make Me by Ajaxthegreat | Star Wars | Hux/Ben Solo | 52k | A genocidal megalomaniac Emperor and a very slutty smuggler/occasional Resistance spy walk into a bar.

cherry pie by brawlite, ToAStranger | Stranger Things | Billy/Steve | 61k | illy Hargrove lives for summer. Endless sunshine, heavily chlorinated pools, roaming ice cream trucks, and unencumbered freedom? There’s nothing better.Even being stuck in Hawkins can’t ruin the summer for him. He eats it up, devouring every day whole.***

the ghost and good queen val by Wildehack (Tyleet) | Thor | Loki/Valkyrie/Thor | 8k | “Oh my god,” Korg says. “You did! You saw a ghost!”

Suspicious Minds by astolat | DA | Iron Bull/Dorian, Inquisitor/Solas | 4k | “Hm,” Bull said, thoughtfully. “Something I’ve been curious about. Solas.”“You want to talk about another man now?” Dorian said.

By The Still Waters by emilyenrose | DA | Fenhawke; Inquisitory/Solas | 83k | Hawke was left in the Fade. Fenris goes looking for him. He doesn't go alone.

Some Things Are Certain by cupiscent | Star Wars | Anakin/Obi-Wan | 7k | Detained far from where he should be by random chance, Obi-Wan meets an unusual slave.

For Better or Worse by DragonBandit | The Bright Sessions | Damien/Mark | 22k | Wherein Damien and Mark are soulmates, and this changes enough.**

killing me to love you by mostlikelydefinentlymad | The Bright Sessions | Damien/Mark | 2k | Mark waits by the phone.

give my reflection a break by autoeuphoric (FreezingRayne) | The Bright Sessions | Damien/Joan | 5k | When the bell rings, she almost doesn’t answer. She hasn’t ordered anything and it’s too early for carolers. She does not speak to her neighbors, and she’s not about to start today.Joan gets up and answers the door anyway. Because she wants to.

Try, Try, Try Again by anticyclone | The Bright Sessions | 8k | Joan gets mugged. Damien interrupts. Interrupting is kind of his thing.

sharp shock to your soft side by agivise | The Bright Sessions | Mark & Damien | 22k | The universe is a cruel, unforgiving bitch, and honestly, he's a little sick and tired of it. Sure, he deserves it or whatever, but still, totally uncool, universe. Real poor timing.

Scarier Things by starkraving | The Bright Sessions | Mark & Damien | 5k | Mark drags Damien back across the country in what amounts to the most karmic reverse kidnapping in history, but stopping to take hipster pics of scenic overlooks will not protect you from the scary stuff lurking in the liminal space behind highway truck-stops.

Patient Intake by starkraving | The Bright Sessions | Joan & Damien | 9k | ssume Joan takes a less passive approach to Damien’s influence in her life. Assume she’s sitting in her car with the engine running and he’s on the sidewalk in front of her. Assume there’s six months between this moment and the moment she first met him.

Artifice by buttpatrol | Wolf 359 | Eiffel/Hera | 23k | A story told in parts about colour palettes, identity, robot uprisings, sensational trials, space, and messy love.

blow your mongrel mind by endquestionmark | Wolf 359 | Eiffel/Jacobi | 13k | The first time Eiffel sees Colonel Warren Kepler — shockingly real, after so many days spent somewhere between delusion and despair — what strikes him most is how still Kepler is.

Calling Out My Name by vlasdygoth | Wolf 359 | Jacobi/Kepler | 2.5k | Five times Kepler called Jacobi a pet name, and one time Jacobi managed to pull it off on him.

and twice as bright by endquestionmark | Wolf 359 | Eiffel/Hera | 6k | “Eiffel.” Very quiet, hardly audible through the echoes. “What is it like?”

DELIGHTFUL FANVIDS

January:

2017 [Multifandom Mashup]

MCU Films // ♫Can't You Hear Me Knocking (12 Strong trailer version)♫

Arya & Brienne // The Rules Were Wrong

play with fire [Black Butler]

kylo ren & rey【 In a Dream, in a Nightmare 】TLJ spoilers

Stranger Things || Above and Below

Jim Hopper || Do you ever feel cursed?

Stranger Things || Sweet Dreams

February

Stranger Things || Time After Time

Darth Vader // The Force is strong with you

Game of Thrones || We Live In A Beautiful World

Allison Argent | Look What You Made Me Do

Kylo Ren and Rey l Hearts A Mess

►Stranger Things | Stay Alive

not alone | stranger things

Will Byers || You're home now

March

Voltron | Cosmic Love

Voltron | Broken Crown

River, MARVEL. [2k]

Voltron | Radioactive

S O L D I E R ll Voltron AMV

Loki // Hustler

a morphine toast

Bucky x Steve || Brooklyn (Go Hard)

Fullmetal Alchemist || Brother

Anime Mix - Legends Never Die [AMV]

Death Parade AMV - Feeling Good

AMV - Crucible of Souls - Bestamvsofalltime Anime MV ♫

[AMV] Transmutayshun - FullMetall Alchemist: Brotherhood

AMV Dazzling Inferno

April

kylo ren || animal

FLESH || Yuri on Ice

Roman&Peter || Piece by piece

◼️ quentin&eliot; give me love

Hannibal/Will - Take Me Back

Kylo Ren // In The End

(Marvel) Avengers | The End

Thomas & Newt ✘ Could I have saved him?

Multifandom || Wake Up

The Avengers | The Final Curtain

(SW) Darth Vader | A Light In Darkness

loki laufeyson | saturn (+ragnarok)

Loki - Birthright

May

Infinity War | I Was Here

Avengers: Infinity War

MARVEL || Bohemian Rhapsody

River, MARVEL. [2k]

The Expanse || A War Built On Lies

Avengers || Together

MARVEL || Lions Inside (collab w/ djcprod)

COMIC FILMS - Bohemian Rhapsody

Pixar: The Complete Supercut (2018)

Let Us Be Brave

👑black panther👑

X-Men || Revolution (ft. Ruelle)

DELIGHTFUL MUSIC

January:

Choir & Crickets | Jeff Russo

Black Lung Heartache | Joe Bonamassa

Undiscovered First | Feist

Tribe Society - Kings

MIX - MAURICE RAVEL Bolero

Never Give Up | Sia

Silvertongue | Young the Giant

Vikings Soundtrack

February

Sweet Dreams | Mark Hadley

A Hazy Shade of Winter | The Bangles

White Rabbit | Jefferson Starship

Stranger Things Theme | Kyle Dixon

Go To War | Nothing More

Does Your Heart Break | The Brilliance

Please Speak Well of Me | The Weepies

Smallest Light | Ingrid Michaelson

Flying | Cody Fry

My Friends | Oh Wonder

New Rules | Dua Lipa

Young As The Morning Old As the Sea | Passengers

Never Be The Same | Camila Cabello

Slow Down Love | Louis the Child

Come Together | Gary Clark Jr.

Don’t Think Twice | Utada Hikaru

Your Tongue Like The Sun In My Mouth | Sophie B. Hawkins

&Run | Sir Sly

Giver | K.Flay

Black Panther Soundtrack

March

Daddy Issues | The Neighbourhood

Whatever It Takes | Imagine Dragons

Carry Me Back To Her Arms | Jessica Curry

The Healing | Gary Clark Jr.

These Days | The Black Keys

No Roots | Alice Merton

Susanne Sundfør | The Golden Age

The Blue Whale | Steven Price

Everywhere' by J2

Sinners | Barns Courtney

Sam Tinnesz - Play With Fire (feat. Yacht Money)

Here | Junna

Robert DeLong - Favorite Color Is Blue (Lyric Video) ft. K.Flay

Steve James | Warrior

Hold My Liquor | Kanye West

Sweatpants | Childish Gambino

April

The Sailor Song | Autoheart

Steve James - Warrior (feat. LIGHTS)

Mother Mother - Reaper Man

Hello | Via Audio

Beyoncé | Back to Black

James Brown - It's A Man's Man's Man's World

Emeli Sande - Daddy

Nathan Angelo - Leigh

"In The End" Linkin Park Cinematic Cover (feat. Jung Youth & Fleurie)

May

Black Space/Stand By Me | Imagine Dragons

Dear God | Lawless

Sinners and Saints | Andrea Wasse

Ghost | Natasha Blume

Peter Gundry - Tales of the Night

Metal Gear Solid V Medley: Quiet's Theme / Sins of the Father | Freya Catherine

SOWULO - Yule

WOLVEN STORM ORCHESTRAL COVER (Witcher 3 - Priscilla's Song)

Amulet | Copal

Holding Out for a Hero | Nothing But Thieves

WRITTEN FIC

January:

N/A

February

Everybody's Looking For Something | Stranger Things | Steve/Billy | 4,790 words | On the third weekend of May during their last year at Hawkins High, Steve Harrington throws a party.Billy crashes it.

taste you on my tongue | Stranger Things | Steve/Billy | 2,290 words | “You’ve never felt pleasure like it, Steve,” an old girlfriend had told him once, her eyes bright with memory. Steve shrugged. “No vampires here, though.”

March

Home | Star Wars | Reylo | 1,670 words | “Rey,” he says into the quiet. “Just drive.”

April

hits like a drum | Stargate Atlantis | Mcshep | 3,507 words | “Believe it or not, having something with sharp teeth breathing down your neck is not actually conducive to one’s thought process.” John barks out a loud, abrupt noise that might be laughter, his breath tickling the hairs at the base of Rodney’s neck. “I’d have thought it would be good motivation.”

feed the hunger | Stranger Things | Steve/Billy | 1,792 words | “Thought you wanted to fuck me, Hargrove,” Steve whispers, and presses a sweet kiss to the hinge of Billy's jaw. “Now's your chance.”

Apotheosis | Marvel - INFINITY WAR | Thor/Loki, Steve/Pepper/Tony | 4,450 words | Grief, a story told in three parts.

May

N/A

FANMIXES/GRAPHICS

January

2018

February

We Could Be Heroes

Daddy Issues

March

N/A

April

Newmann

May

danien: back in black

#heather says what #scrapbook #2018

1 note · View note

ive-always-been-a-pirate · 7 years ago

Text

The Other Prince + A CS Modern Royalty AU [Chapter 8]

Modern Royalty AU: HRH Prince Killian has grown up in the shadow of the crown while enduring tragedy and the burdens of being the spare to the heir. With a desire to escape his past, he agrees to play host to the visiting general’s daughter in exchange for an eventual life outside royal bounds. Moving on is never that easy though and he quickly learns that being the ‘other’ prince is even more difficult when you find yourself falling for the girl everyone wants your brother to marry.

Catch Up On Previous Chapters: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven Also on FF.net and AO3.

Word Count: 9,063

This totally spiraled out of control and that’s my only excuse for taking forever to finish it haha. Thank you to @optomisticgirl for being a lovely beta and for listening to me whine and second guess everything constantly :] you’re a gem, my friend. There’s more to come (including some stuff with Liam, Brennan, and others) in the next one! Enjoy! XOXO

The street was busy as Emma stomped along the sidewalk, her black rain boots slightly damp and her mind in a fixed state of stubbornness. The weather had been shifting back and forth all day, the sky calm one moment but the sharp wind blowing the next. It wasn’t a huge surprise that a light rain had finally started to sprinkle and it was easy to be thankful for the warmth of the light, mesh-lined gray jacket she had zipped tight around her frame. As she took a moment to glance back down the winding road she’d just traveled by foot, Emma realized the durable material keeping the storm off her skin was currently the only thing she could muster any gratitude for.

It was likely she was acting a bit dramatic and definitely a little selfish, but she also firmly believed she had grounds to be both. The not so casual conversation she’d been blindsided with just before dinner hadn’t been a true betrayal or a major deceit, but it had certainly been unexpected and frustrating in a way she wasn’t ready to discuss with anyone. The news her father had announced a few hours earlier was an annoying reminder of just why surprises were not high on her list of favorite things.

No, Emma liked plans. Well, except the new one her family now had - the one that included staying in London for the next two weeks.

The splashing of car tires through the puddles was a rhythmic distraction and her feet continued to carry her down the shop lined road as she pulled her hood up over her head. She wasn’t really sure how long she’d been walking - it wasn’t like she had left the palace with much of a goal in mind. Glancing up at the dreary sky, she merely hoped that maybe the walk would help her ignore the echo of her father’s words in her head.

“I know you aren’t the biggest fan of metropolitan London, Em, but I have to be here - at least for now. The countryside has been kind to our family and I’ll miss it too, but it was never meant to be permanent. This job is a big change for all of us, but I have to give it a chance and I need you and your mom with me on this.”

She knew he was right - now that he’d approached what might qualify as total recovery, there wasn’t much left for any of them in the quiet confines of the Yorkshire property. Sure, the move there had required a lot from her, but it wasn’t as if she had a whole lot - or anything, really - to go back to now. She let out an exasperated sigh as the drops of precipitation grew larger, her steps slowing as she reached a street corner. He’d looked so honest when he made the hopeful request for her support and as irritated as she’d been, denying him the opportunity to save his career wasn’t the right thing to do.

“Can you just….try, Emma? Just for a few weeks while we sort out a schedule?”

Watching her breath hang briefly in the cool air, Emma recalled the nod and weak hug she’d given him. Sacrifice was the name of this recently recurring game and for now, she had to keep playing it.

Looking quickly to the left, she caught the appearance of a small establishment crafted in gray bricks trimmed with deep red paint. The door was solid mahogany, hanging on black hinges that had definitely been well tested. The rounded windows alight with a warm glow seemed to call to her and while the overhead posted name of The Round Table didn’t immediately tell her what the building’s purpose was, the handful of tipsy patrons stumbling out onto the sidewalk certainly did. A place like the one she’d paused in front of was probably well known for its gin or assortments of well crafted lager, but her addled mind immediately went the one indisputable option.

Alcohol - and she honestly didn’t care what kind.

Reaching forward to prop open the heavy door, Emma ducked inside the apparent pub without a second thought. As she looked around the instantly easy space and noted the surroundings - a weathered bar counter, occupied pool table, a soccer match blaring on a distant flat screen, and amusingly accented population - she knew this was the perfect place to toss back a beverage or two. Few people seemed to give her much notice and nobody appeared to realize just how out of place she definitely was.

Thank god, she thought as she approached the row of stools just below the wood bar top.

“Evening, m'lady,” a dark haired bartender greeted, his smile framed by a thick beard. “Braving the storm, eh?”

“Oh, umm - yeah I guess,” she said in return, hoping she didn’t look too nervous about venturing into unknown territory. “It’s not too bad out there yet, actually.”

“Well, tumultuous enough that you’re seeking-” he returned, reaching for a glass and narrowing his eyes pensively. “-a little whiskey, I’m guessing.”

“Wow,” Emma laughed. “Am I really that obvious?”

“I’ve been at this a long time is all,” he grinned. “On the rocks or neat?”

“Not picky,” she shrugged. “I don’t need anything fancy.”

“Nonsense, lass,” he disputed with a wave of his hand. “After all, you’re only in London….well, not often, right?”

“Ah, very transparent I guess,” Emma sighed, accepting the glass tumbler he set down in front of her. “I should probably work on my local dialect.”

“Nah, I say you own it. It’s not often we get Americans in here.”

Emma smirked at his little reassurance, taking a sip from her drink and feeling the whiskey burn in the best way as it slid down her throat. She decided not to refute his assumption that she’d come from the states since she sort of did courtesy of her college experience. She hadn’t expected to find any sort of company when she’d left the palace - after all, the intended endgame had been to avoid pretty much everyone. It was relaxing to be in this environment though and the lumberjack type of guy making conversation seemed easy enough to talk to.

“I have to admit I haven’t been to an actual bar in a while. This seems like a place for regulars.”

“Well, some of them far too regular, but I guess anyone who’s been pouring drinks for nearly ten years at the same pub would say that,” he explained. “Kind of a hazard of ownership I suppose.”

“Wait, you're….”

“Arthur Pendragon - proprietor and long standing pun,” he smiled. “Hence the, uh….the name.”

It took Emma a moment to piece together what he meant, but once it clicked, her face lit up with realization he’d likely witnessed many times. The subtle shake of his head and barely embarrassed eye roll told her he’d ceased to see the endearing charm in Camelot cliches long ago.

“Well, I can’t say I’ve ever been served whiskey by the once and future king,” she replied cleverly. “I take it the name wasn’t your doing?”

“Definitely not,” he confirmed, tossing a coaster on the bar as a resting place for the glass she’d yet to put down. “My wife’s actually.”

“My compliments to her wit then.”

“I’ll be sure to mention that next time I talk to her,” he said with a hint of melancholy. “She's….not been around for a bit.”

“Oh, I'm….sorry,” Emma returned, her cheeks rosy with regret for bringing it up. “I just assumed-”

“Not your fault, lass,” he told her kindly. “It’s okay. I suppose most relationships are tested in one way or another at some point. Sometimes it just takes a bit to sort itself out.”

“Yeah, I-” Emma said with familiar understanding. “-I know what you mean.”

“But, enough about my sob story. I’m the one who should be offering an ear - part of the job description after all,” he deflected, a bit of his happier demeanor returning. “What brings you to Victoria Street this evening, Miss America?”

“It’s Emma actually,” she said in amusement, tapping the sides of her glass. “I guess I just….needed to take a beat.”

Truly, she didn’t have a real purpose for why she’d all but stormed out of the palace earlier that night - well, not a fair one, anyway. The quarters at Her Majesty’s abode were beautiful and vast enough that she’s managed to find plenty of personal space while also avoiding running into a certain prince. Emma knew he didn’t actually reside at the building currently accommodating her and her family, a detail that had been learned from a late night internet search instead of a recently bought book she'd already misplaced. Still, she couldn’t stop wondering when she might stumble into another awkward encounter with him - or who’d be doing the literal stumbling this time.

She wasn’t sure she wanted to chance finding out and that had been a decent reason to slip away for a bit - or at least, that’s what she kept telling herself.

“Well, when the world’s got you down, a drink never hurts,” Arthur continued. “Sometimes a chat with a stranger is helpful too. That is, of course, if you’d like to talk?”

Emma exhaled, biting her lip as she tried to decide just how honest she should be. She didn’t know this guy - or anyone else in the area, for that matter - and perhaps it was best to keep it that way. Getting used to being in London seemed wrong, especially since she was still hoping her stay wasn’t permanent. The whole idea of her being at the bar was suddenly a bit surreal. Though she’d wandered into this hole-in-the-wall tavern on a whim, she had felt more relaxed in the past twenty minutes than she had in days. It was likely a beginning side effect of the alcohol, but it was also the fact that this place was different - simpler and secluded to a degree she was truly appreciating.

Still, she needed to stay beneath the radar for now and being too candid with the hospitable bar owner currently pouring her another glass of Irish whiskey wasn’t going to help her quest for anonymity.

“I guess I just needed to avoid responsibility for a few hours,” Emma offered, her voice vague as he tilted his head in amusement. “Is that awful?”

“There are worse reasons to imbibe-” he countered with a nod toward one of the rowdier corner tables. “-and I hardly doubt your venture here will be as unacceptable as the display that group of sodding fools tends to put on.”

Peeking over her shoulder in the direction he’d just gestured, Emma caught a glimpse of the pack of rather obnoxious men he had just mentioned. They’d clearly been indulging in a high bar tab long before she arrived and their frustration over the display of athleticism on the screen in the corner was plenty loud and quite profane.

“They certainly don’t like whatever team is winning,” Emma commented. “Are they always like this?”

“More or less - but usually more,” he grumbled, tossing a bar rag off to the side. “I’m rather sure they don’t realize that this was actually televised almost a week ago or that it’s a preseason game, but it’s likely they won’t be pleased to find out. That said, I ought to make the rounds. You’ll be okay for a moment?”

“Oh - yeah, I’m fine,” she assured him with a grateful smile. “Thanks for the drink.”

“On the house, lass,” he said in return with a good humored salute. “Stay as long as you like.”

Emma felt her shoulders relax at the welcoming reception she had managed to find. She knew as she held the glass firmly and glanced around the dim space that she could get used to the solitude of a place like this - at least while she had to remain in the confines and close vicinity of royal world. She realized this bar could be her sanctuary of sorts - and so it was only fitting she tried it out again the following night as well.

Arthur had been glad to see her return the following evening, her escape from the palace aided by a very helpful Marco just after she said goodnight to her parents. Neal had returned to school earlier that day, a fact that made sneaking out a bit easier. She’d been somewhat sad to see him head back into one of the many buildings at Eton, but he’d given her a huge hug and a small stack of rather suspicious documents before doing so. She stuffed them into her jacket when he’d offered her that one line of explanation followed by a wink.

“Just in case you’ve yet to truly make up your mind about the next step, Em.”

She hadn’t dared decipher what he meant by that until she arrived back in the secluded bedroom she’d been set up in at Buckingham, but as she dug the stapled papers out of her zippered pocket, it was clear what he was trying to do. There were a variety of the unexpected documents, their professionally bold headers and traditional logos making it immediately clear that they were brochures for higher education. She smirked to herself while flipping through them, noting that Neal had done his best to cover all the bases when he’d likely swiped them from one of the offices at Eton. There was information on a few universities - Oxford and Cambridge, both of which she was positive she'd never be admitted to - and also a couple of others that gave details about institutes like King’s College and Imperial. She’d skimmed the text in acknowledgement of her little brother’s thoughtfulness, but eventually stowed them away in the concealed pouch of her lightweight parka. The pamphlets remained there, hidden alongside her accepted reality that completing her degree wasn’t in the cards any longer while she downed a quick glass of top shelf bourbon at that same pub.

She told herself she could deal with the brochures, Neal, and everything else later - a decision that perhaps sparked her current and third trip to the cozy bar a few blocks away.

“Anything good on tap?”

“Well, there’s a frustrated face if I’ve ever seen one.”

Though the voice was equally happy to welcome her, it didn’t belong to Arthur. This one was full of the clever kindness she’d learned was all Ruby - the girl who was a few years her junior and one of the regular weeknight bartenders. They’d met on the first night Emma had ventured into the building when Arthur had stepped out to take a phone call from the estranged wife who still seemed to have a hold on him, a fact that Ruby had explained while pouring them each a shot of something she definitely hadn’t requested.

That had become somewhat of a theme in Emma’s life recently - accepting things she hadn’t asked for. If she was going to have to keep doing so, she decided that it was probably okay to use a little alcohol to help it all go down easier.

Taking a sip of the offered liquor hadn’t been too difficult - a brand of vodka bottled in France, she eventually learned - as she kept perched on the stool just across the bar top from the long haired brunette with the fiery personality. They’d chatted sporadically for a couple of hours, sharing small details of their lives and laughing over battle stories they’d encountered through years of travel and relocation.

Ruby was from the Great Lakes part of the states and had grown up in a small town surrounded by the tall trees of some very remote woods. She’d been in the care of a single mother until she hit junior high, but had then moved to live across the Atlantic with a very traditional grandmother in the European countryside. Ruby claimed the loving elderly woman had saved her from herself after some rather promiscuous years and had entertained her endlessly with tall tales about sorcery and werewolves. She’d left the old cabin a few years earlier when her grandmother passed, bouncing between a few nearby countries before landing in England. Ruby had quite the colorful past and while Emma thought the girl’s adventures were far more interesting than her own, she couldn’t help but be glad they’d met and bonded - even if it all might be only temporary.

“So,” Ruby started, grabbing a glass from beneath the counter and raising her eyebrows. “What’s got you down, Goldilocks?”

“Really? What’s with the nickname?”

“Hey, I call it like I see it and right now-” Ruby responded as she searched the top shelf for a bottle. “-I see a disgruntled blonde who has come to this Camelot inspired oasis to soothe what troubles her.”

“Very poetic,” Emma acknowledged, setting her jacket aside. “But perhaps we better stick with ‘the pissed off traveler who just learned her plans have gone to hell’.”

“Ah, I like mine better,” Ruby laughed, tapping her chin. “But you know, I think there’s a specific drink for the type of person you’re describing.”

Emma made herself comfortable, something she regretted the moment her new friend plopped a bottle of cinnamon whiskey down between them. Ruby’s red lipstick outlined mouth curved up into a deviant smile that immediately had Emma shaking her head.

“Not happening, barkeep.”

“Oh, come on,” Ruby coaxed. “We don’t get a new shipment in until tomorrow so most of the decent brands are running low anyway. That is, unless you’d rather forego the hard stuff and I can crack open a bottle of that shitty home brewed beer Arthur has been trying to get everyone to buy.”

“I think I’ll pass on the Crimson Crown Ale, thanks,” Emma replied. “But I’m pretty sure shots of that firewater aren’t the best alternative-”

“No, no - no shots, but an exclusive cocktail mixed by yours truly,” the girl told her as she grabbed a few other labels of booze. “You’ve gotta live a little, Emma.”

“Or die of alcohol poisoning,” she countered, her eyes warily regarding Ruby. “What’s in this drink anyway?”

“That’s yet to be totally decided,” Ruby grinned as she grabbed a jar of cherries from below the counter. “I do have a few name options workshopped already though.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“I’m thinking maybe like 'Big Bad Something’ or 'Sweet Little Sleeping Curse’,” she carried on, illustrating the ideas with finger quotes and snatching a nearby shot glass. “I vaguely remember learning how to make this drink called a 'Red Riding Hood’, but it’s got a certain vodka base and Arthur prefers to hoard that stuff in the back. I’m pretty sure it’s fuel for drowning his sorrows after last call.”

“Cute, but I have no idea why you’d go with such a whimsical theme,” Emma replied. “I don’t remember the hangover from that stuff being anything remotely like a fairytale.”

“Yeah, I gotta say I don’t either,” Ruby said, a small laugh escaping her as she shoved the random ingredients aside and looked toward the fast opening main entrance. “But, if this was one of those classic storybook tales, we’d now have the role of evil villains filled.”

Her nod toward the door was brief as she grumbled some below the breath remark. It was a shift in the girl’s demeanor that made Emma wonder and she couldn’t help but peer over her shoulder in curiosity. It didn’t take long to pinpoint just who had suddenly put her new friend in an irritated mood - the raucous and rather ignorant group of men she’d been warned about the first time she’d sat upon her current stool. She tried not to stare despite their loud attempt to gain the room’s attention, a disruption that made Ruby sigh loudly as she downed a bit of the spicy alcohol they’d been debating.

“Why don’t you guys kick ever them out?”

“Well, despite their generally asshole behavior, they’re good for business,” Ruby explained. “Sure, they can be annoying, but their bar tab climbs much higher than any other band of idiots who wander in regularly.”

“So this happens a lot?”

“Just a few times a week so it’s manageable for the most part,” she continued while counting napkins. “I’m going to grab that last case of cheap beer from the back really fast - lord knows they’ll probably be over to order some any minute now. Hang out for a bit?”

“Yeah, of course,” Emma smiled. “Planning on it.”

Ruby returned her grin, tying her hair back as she headed for the hall that must have led to the back storage room. Glancing around, Emma soon found her attention falling back on the rowdy men now chatting over a pool table between their rants regarding the game still playing on the television. She was so busy trying to decipher just what made guys like them tick that she failed to notice one of them slink up to the bar at her side.

“You-” he started, his almost predatory stare zeroing in on her as he tapped his fingers on the bar. “-aren’t from around here, are you?”

“Ah….good call,” she replied casually, silently praying that he’d leave her be. “Just stopping in for a quick drink before I hit the road.”

“Hmmm,” he smirked. “Where might a fine woman like you be going on a night like this?”

Emma felt herself shift away ever so slightly from the smell of fading alcohol hanging on his flirtatious breath. She was really in no mood to spell it out for him, but as he held her involuntary gaze, it became apparent that he wasn’t about to take a hint.

“Back to where my family’s staying - I’m on a trip with them,” she tried, biting her lip as she made an obvious glance toward the clock. “In fact, I really should get going-”

“Oh, come on, beautiful - it’s still early,” he replied as he inched closer. “Have a drink with me.”

“Ummm, thanks….for the offer, I mean, but I-”

“No excuses,” he cut in, his words wrapped in an unsettling whisper. “Have a drink with me.”

Emma felt her shoulders straighten as she fixed her eyes on him, cataloguing his appearance like she’d need to describe it accurately to the police later on. She wasn’t sure if it would be because he’d crossed a line with her or because she’d beat him senseless as a result, but she was extremely certain that everything from his suspicious eyes to his thick black coat made her very uncomfortable. Cowering when confronted was never a road Emma liked to travel though and despite the way he was making her skin crawl, she couldn’t back down from his proposition without a hell of a retort.

“I’m not sure if that’s a request or a demand,” she returned firmly. “But I can promise you that I'm not interested.”

“You really can’t say that yet though,” he chuckled. “You still haven’t heard my offer.”

“I’m pretty sure I haven’t given you any indication that I’d like to.”

“Just one drink, beautiful….or two, and then I assure you that I-” he drawled as he reached for her glass. “-can make you forget all about your family.”

“Okay, pal, I know we just met and all, but I’m going to need you to back the hell off.”

“Hmmm,” he persisted as he traced her arm. “You’ve got a little fire in you, don’t ya? I have to admit I kinda like that.”

“I said-”

“I believe the lady said no,” another strangely familiar voice cut in. “Step down, mate.”

Emma realized quickly that it wasn’t Arthur and her head swirled with confusion - why did she recognize this voice? Her boundary crossing opponent turned briefly, letting out a hearty chuckle before slamming his half empty beer bottle down on the bar. Emma chanced a look at the other man and though she was somewhat irritated at the 'white knight’ status he apparently wanted to earn, her guard dropped rapidly the moment she learned just who was attempting her rescue.

No way, she thought as her mouth parted. What the hell was he doing there?

She zoned out for a minute, her eyes hooked on just who had an interest in defending her honor. The few words exchanged between him and the persistent jerk at her side were ones she didn’t fully catch as she tried instead to sort out why of all the pubs - or perhaps even gin joints - in the world, he had to walk into this one. It was a thought similar to one once vocalized by a handsome actor in some black and white film her mother loved and she was attempting to recall which one when two fateful words from the protective man a few feet away cut through the haze.

“Try me.”

The chaos that followed was rapid and it took Emma a few moments to realize that a fight was breaking out, but as she watched the guy who’d been hitting on her take a hard punch to the jaw, it became quite clear that she was about to witness exactly what drunk and disorderly truly looked like. She froze for an instant, her view moving back and forth between the fists being thrown as she gasped at the scene. She hated merely standing by in disbelief, but getting dragged into diffusing a situation she didn’t totally understand wasn’t wise.

It was obvious that getting out of there would probably be the safest choice, but as Ruby’s pleading eyes found hers, Emma stepped forward to do….well, something. She just didn’t know what.

“Get the hell out of here, Gideon,” Arthur growled as he managed to shove the instigating man back out the way he’d come in. “Take your crew with you.”

The onlookers were almost too quiet as they watched and Arthur took a deep breath before turning on his heel, announcing there’d be a free round courtesy of himself. The distraction gave Ruby enough time to pull the unsuspecting opponent of the bar brawl into a secluded hallway, but not before waving toward Emma in a last ditch request for assistance. Her feet moved automatically, navigating her through the throes of people elbowing their way up to the bar. The dark haired girl Emma had come to know as an ally was huffing for air by the time they met in the back door corridor.

“Hey, can you….take him to the back? Arthur is about to pour out a handful of apology shots and he’s gonna need help,” Ruby asked, trying to keep him upright. “I just need like fifteen minutes.”

“Yeah - of course,” Emma agreed as she moved closer. “Whatever you need.”

Ruby nodded gratefully and bolted, leaving Emma to observe the aftermath quickly over her shoulder before glancing back toward the disheveled haired prince - a choice that soon caused her flabbergasted reaction. His eyes were a wild blue and wrought with anguish as he steadied himself against the wall. The cut just below his brow was already swelling and had started to bleed in a way that mirrored his injured left hand. His fingers were deep red with knuckles that would likely bruise and he heaved for air with jagged, deep breaths. The way he briefly looked at her was riddled with embarrassment as he appeared to realize who she was as well.

“Hi.”

Her voice was timid upon offering the out of place greeting, but she had no clue what else to say to this man - the one she’d been avoiding who was now cloaked in muffled anger and a spirit that was much less than that of most royalty.

“Hi,” he breathed, his mouth trying on a weak smile before he ripped his sight away again. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

He lifted weak fingers to his face, touching his cheek and realizing there was blood making a path down his cheek. He sighed with frustration before glancing back toward her and Emma fought to find some….any reply.

“The surprise is mutual,” she managed. “Are you okay, Your High…uh…”

“Killian,” he responded, defeat heavy in his reminder. “Just Killian, lass.”

Dammit, Emma thought as her mind clouded. This was sure as hell not how she’d hoped her night would go.

Killian couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt quite this exhausted by his birthright. Well, perhaps that wasn’t the total truth. He’d felt similarly tired the morning Liam had confronted him about his behavior at the bar, but somehow, even that head splitting scolding hadn’t stopped him from returning now to that very same place a few hours after sundown. It had been days since the bar scuffle the greedy tabloids had still managed to pick up on and as soon as he had managed to escape the presence of his observant brother, Killian had felt the familiar urge he’d been prodded with several times over his adult years - the need to feel normal. He’d wondered silently as he snuck down the several shortcut alleyways toward The Round Table if the solitude of a quiet establishment and a stiff drink might offer just that, but he hoped even more so that he might still be welcome at such a place.

His Converse sneakers plodded the pavement as he recognized the fact that he’d likely never be totally banned from the tavern he was headed for. After all, if anybody could knock him off his royal pedestal with a glass of rum and a few honest words, it was definitely Arthur - the man who was his reluctantly understanding confidante and older cousin by about three years.

They were related through the belated princess with Arthur’s father being his own mother’s oldest sibling. The restrictions placed on the royal family had been tested many times by Katherine’s insistence that her young sons maintain a solid bond with her side, especially the several cousins they had through her bloodline. Killian had always been grateful for that. Arthur seemed to comprehend the struggle both he and Liam faced when it came to the crown, even though he’d never know an obligation like that himself. It was a relationship unmatched by many others and despite the fact that Killian hadn’t always made their pact of family all that easy, Arthur had never shut him out - though he had every right to on several occasions.

It wouldn’t have been the first relative to lose faith in the spare to the heir, but fortunately, things had never turned out that way with the bartending man he somewhat resembled and truly loved. Killian knew that as difficult as it might be, he once again needed to make things right while he could.

Liam had been busy when he decided to slip away from Buckingham Palace, his regal and slightly inconvenient home away from home. He understood why his older brother felt it necessary to keep temporary quarters at the grand building while the admiral’s family was visiting, but Killian’s own reasons for staying in one of the lavish guest rooms was something not even he could totally explain. Perhaps it was for some unknown desire to not be the only prince lingering on the Kensington grounds or maybe it was a need to stay in the know about whatever military changes might be underway, but deep down, he knew his hope that he might run into a certain blonde was definitely part of it.

For the record, he hadn’t seen her - and it was driving him crazy.

Sure, the royal property his grandmother lived upon was huge, but not so much that he shouldn’t have caught a glimpse of the green eyed girl over the few days since the afternoon at Eton. He’d speculated that she might be avoiding him and while he wasn’t totally sure why, he had to admit that he’d been a little nervous to locate her - and that had everything to do with the book he had concealed beneath a pillow on the four post bed he’d been using for some constant tossing and turning.

He blinked rapidly as he paused outside of the door, tugging a beat up flask from his pocket and taking a quick swig. He’d never been great at dropping his pride to offer an apology, but he knew this was important - and he could only pray that his quick dose of rum would allow him to remember that once he entered the building

“About time you showed up.”

Killian had barely stepped inside the dimly lit space and entered the back room office when he was greeted with chiding words from the owner himself. He deserved the taunt he supposed, but it didn’t keep him from tossing Arthur an automatic eye roll. The man was busy penciling something on an order form, but the task didn’t prevent him from holding the upper hand in their bantering exchange.

“I suppose I ought to be a bit more welcoming as the owner of a small business and all, but-” his cousin offered distractedly, finally peering toward him with a raised brow. “-I’ve only recently had that glass out front repaired.”

“Aye,” Killian sighed with a slump against the doorway after he set an envelope next to the paper. “I’m hoping this might cover that - and if not, that you’ll let me know.”

Arthur almost instantly slid the folded paper pouch back across his trademark desk in the direction it had come from. Killian lifted an eyebrow before returning a steadfast stare, but it was soon apparent that his relative wasn’t about to accept the gesture of a few higher end bills. It truly was a pathetic way to attempt making amends and one that definitely shouldn’t be necessary. The healing battle wounds that were finally fading from his own guilty face were proof that he owed Arthur at least that much - even if he’d known from the start that the proud bar owner wouldn’t take it.

“You know that royal salary of yours has never been worth much around here,” his older relative told him. “I’m merely stating the hope that we won’t have to have this endearing conversation again for a while. I mean, the chairs around the tables opposite that new window do need replacing, but I’d rather-”

“Got it, mate,” Killian nodded, pressing his lips together. “For the record, I’m sorry-”

“I know you are-” Arthur smiled. “-and that’s the only thing that makes it okay.”

He still wasn’t totally sure why this man tolerated him, but as Arthur flipped his pencil toward the doorway in salute, Killian reminded himself to stop taking that for granted.

“Now,” the man sighed as he found his feet. “How about some rum and ranting? Sounds like we both need it.”

“Aye,” Killian agreed. “You have no idea, mate.”

“Well, I’m excited to learn then,” he returned, slapping the envelope of cash against Killian’s chest before heading for the hallway. “You’re buying - oh, and grab that bin of clean glasses on your way up.”

Killian smirked to himself as he lifted the box, his feet trailing after the owner. He’d entertained the idea of a life like this many times before - how it would be to swap out kegs and care for a humble business like the one his cousin had built from nearly nothing. He had always appreciated the way Arthur could assimilate him with a simple comment or a thoughtless instruction. Sure, most royals wouldn’t stand for a world centered around menial tasks, but Killian thrived on the idea of being ordinary.

It was an odd envy he held for people like Arthur, but it was also a desire that was very disrespectful to the crown - which is exactly why he chose not to mention it to anyone.

“So, how’s your brother? Still constantly worrying about you?”

“Among other things,” Killian shrugged as his cousin took the rattling crate of fragile glass. “You know Liam - saving the free world one weary soul at a time.”

“Aye,” Arthur laughed as he turned toward the shelf housing a few bottles. “I suppose it’s a hazard of such an authoritarian job. What else is new with you?”

Killian halted with a sigh, his eyes scanning the bar instead of conjuring up an answer that wouldn’t raise suspicion with the man who’d just asked him a casual question. Arthur knew all about the upcoming royal events courtesy of his bond with Liam and he wasn’t one to often seek out small talk. He knew his cousin was attempting to learn what had taken him so long to wander back by the corner pub and while he wasn’t sure that lying was the best route, he knew one thing for sure - he couldn’t tell Arthur about Emma and the way her presence as well as absence seemed to be consuming him.

There wasn’t much to tell anyway, he thought quietly. She was just visiting and she’d be gone eventually so divulging what little information he had seemed futile. Bottling it all up for now was the best plan - and lord knows he’d gotten good at that over the years.

“Just trying to fill a few roles for Gran,” he offered vaguely. “Mostly little stuff - taking over her rugby patronage and attending a charity thing later this week.”

“Good for you,” Arthur nodded, pouring them both a glass of the bar’s best rum. “Liam mentioned you have some palace visitors currently?”

The color drained slightly from Killian’s face as he cleared his throat before taking a swallow from the fresh drink. He wasn’t sure how much his annoyingly honest older brother had said, but he instantly wished Liam had for once kept his mouth shut. His sight drifted toward the opposite end of the room, finding Ruby soon enough and wondering if he might use needing to catch up with her as an excuse to avoid this conversation. It took only seconds of watching to realize the dark haired girl was busy tending to another patron, one he almost recognized. Long blonde hair, nervous posture, a laugh he could barely hear….

“Anyone you know?”

Killian had been so briefly entranced by who he imagined the girl sitting at a fair distance could be that he almost thought that’s who Arthur was referring to. Of course he wasn’t though - he was inquiring about Admiral Nolan’s family. Killian straightened his shoulders as he tried to focus on the discussion at hand.

“No, it’s, ummm, just a….family from up north,” Killian answered, tearing his eyes away from what was obviously a half-assed hallucination. “They’re leaving soon I believe.”

“Oh - that's….not what I heard.”

He was about to ask Arthur what the hell that meant when he caught the sound of a voice he was truly in no frame of mind to deal with. He was relieved that the tone wasn’t directed at him, but slightly unsettled that its usual venom laced accent had been replaced by a pathetically sultry one. Such seduction was often aimed toward Ruby - who was perfectly capable of putting the man who caused frequent commotion right back in his place - but this time, the heavy flirtation was aimed toward the girl Ruby had been chatting with. His eyes narrowed as he watched for a moment and his blood seemed to simmer without explanation. Sure, it was beyond annoying to see Gideon strutting around like he owned the place - though Arthur had told him many times that wasn’t the case - but for some reason, this particular display was even more infuriating.

“Shit,” Arthur said as he pieced together what was happening. “I didn’t think he’d be in tonight.”

“It’s fine,” Killian assured him, biting his lip as he tried to convince himself of that as well. “Who’s Ruby talking to over there?”

“Ah, you mean the blonde? Lass from across the pond somewhere,” his cousin answered. “She’s been in a few nights this week.”

“Has she just recently become the object of Gideon’s affection?”

“Hey,” Arthur said quickly, shaking his head. “Not worth it, Killian.”

“What?”

“You know what,” he stared, lifting his brow. “We established long ago that Gideon is an idiot and though his intentions likely aren’t the best, I’m quite positive that girl can take care of herself.”

Killian glanced the girl’s way once more, trying to find the belief that the man behind the bar was correct. He wasn’t about to jump in and fight a battle that might not be necessary, especially given how his last scuffle went, but he knew standing idly by while Gideon acted like an arrogant casanova wasn’t something he could manage. There were really only two plans of action and since the first one hadn’t panned out so well in the past, he opted to take the second as he finished his rum.

“I should head out,” he told Arthur, dropping the envelope on the counter and rising to his feet with a smirk. “For your trouble - or perhaps the kind I caused you.”

“Smart ass,” Arthur grumbled with a shake of his head. “Be safe, mate.”

Killian nodded once before turning toward the door in brief contemplation. He could easily leave through the back, sneaking out the hidden exit as stealthily as he’d entered. It would probably even be for the best since any attention he and Gideon might pay each other probably wouldn’t be the positive sort. He tried to remind himself of all of this as his feet carried him toward the main door, a path he regretted the second he noticed just how close the other man had moved to the girl he felt he needed to guard.

Maybe it was the way she appeared to be so uncomfortable in the close confines his nemesis had trapped her in or maybe it was the blatant refusal he heard her offer as he passed by. Maybe it was even simply Gideon’s failure to yield as she continued to push him away. Whatever the cause was, Killian felt his grip pause from reaching for the door handle and his body abruptly turn back around.

“I believe the lady said no,” Killian stated in a low tone, his glare full of warning as his rival looked up. “Step down, mate.”

Surprise filled Gideon’s face as a cunning grin took over his mouth, a sure sign that this wouldn’t be civil in the least. Bloody hell, Killian thought as his skin prickled. He didn’t need this tonight.

“Well, look what the palace spit out,” Gideon sneered. “Back for more, are ya?”

Killian felt his breath hitch as he clenched his fists, trying to quell the anger that was tempting him to end their exchange of words with a swift right hook. The feeling was a well known one - he’d never gotten along with the man who was trying his hardest to pick a fight. Gideon Gold was an abolitionist with a penchant for drinking, gambling, and taking cheap shots in rugby matches. Their dislike for one another had been ongoing for years, but the feud they’d once endured had only just come back into play with the recent fight. Killian had tried to hold back that night, but when Gideon had decided to drag the royal family’s name through the mud, he’d snapped.

He couldn’t let that happen this time though. He had to walk away - pride be damned.

“No,” Killian replied, clipped and firm as he refused to break the man’s stare. “I’m not here to fight you, Gideon, but you best not give me a reason to think twice about that.”

“Well luckily, you won’t need to, your highness. When we’re through here, you won’t be doing much thinking about anything.”

The challenge was there, thrown between them with the threatening curve of the man’s smirk. Killian felt his temper spike as his defenses rose, his lips pressed together as he tried to brace for whatever came next. He hadn’t come here to start a war, but he also hadn’t expected to see the girl he couldn’t stop thinking about stuck in the line of fire. He couldn’t let Gideon win this one - and it was that conclusion that pulled two very bold words from his mouth.

“Try me.”

It all happened shockingly fast - the sound of glasses breaking and a gruff yell of Ruby’s name that sounded urgent. The dark haired girl dropped the box of beer bottles instantly and bolted to where Arthur had suddenly appeared, his cousin’s arms fighting to shove him back toward the hallway. He’d barely gotten in a solid hit when he realized he’d taken one as well, his feet carrying him backward weakly as his thoughts blurred. Killian realized then that he’d lost sight of the girl during the commotion, a detail that wasn’t helpful even though the vague observation of Arthur pushing his rival out the door was. He managed to hobble back toward the office courtesy of Ruby and his back hit the exposed brick wall with a thud while he tried to right himself. He was attempting to do that much when he was joined by Ruby and another girl - well, the girl.

Emma, he thought as his heart pounded violently.

He didn’t hear much as the dark haired lass usually manning the bar spoke to the blonde he truly didn’t want seeing him like this, but when Ruby sped back down the hallway and left the pair of them alone, Killian realized he didn’t have much of a choice. She peered up at him with questioning eyes, taking a few steps forward with caution.

“Hi.”

Her gentle greeting was shy, her teeth pressing against her bottom lip as she waited to gauge his response. He felt truly miserable, but it wasn’t fair to act like an ass when she had opted to stick around for this.

“Hi….didn’t expect to see you here.”

“The surprise is mutual,” she answered after a moment. “Are you okay, Your High…uh…”

“Killian,” he assisted, not feeling the least bit worthy of a royal title - not that he’d ever want her to address him as such anyway. “Just Killian, lass.”

“Right,” she started in a nervous tone, clearing her throat. “So….the back?”

“Over-” he barely nodded, his head gesturing toward a dark room. “-there.”

She took his arm gently, her touch a light brush of fingers that created a loose grip around his bicep. Trying not to lean into her, Killian took the several stumbles that would land them in a storage area he’d only seen a couple of times before. The overhead lights flickered on, forcing him to squint as he took in the new environment. It was mostly boxes stacked high alongside a wine cabinet his cousin kept well stocked. The letters on the labels came into focus after a moment and he tried to read a few, his efforts eventually halting when she ushered him toward a lone chair by a sink in the corner.

“Sit down,” she told him with a tilt of her head. “Your hand is cut-”

“It's….fine-”

“No, it’s not,” she argued, her voice direct but caring. “Now, sit. Let me….just let me help you.”

He gave up rather fast, closing his eyes to avoid the glare of the fluorescent bulbs burning far too brightly before the sound of running water forced his exhausted stare back to her. She’d pulled a light blue towel from some box behind him and had started to wet the material, obviously intending to assist him in cleaning the blood and shame off his face. She’d probably be good at the former, her insistence in doing so making him think she might be even more stubborn than he typically was. It was the second part that she likely wouldn’t be able to help him with.

“Here,” she offered, lifting the cloth toward his eye. “Chin up.”

He did as requested, inhaling sharply at the feel of a damp towel on his fresh wound. She seemed to find his reaction a bit entertaining and it poked at his crumbling pride just enough for him to respond.

“You’re not supposed to be here.”

He realized almost instantly how misstated his words were. The quiet scoff she offered told him so too as she rinsed the rag quickly before returning her attention to the large cut. He truly had no right to set boundaries on whatever she chose to do within or outside palace walls and he was reminded of that as she swiped the cloth along his red stained cheek a little harder than was needed.

“Well, if my conclusions are the tiniest bit correct then-” she retorted, pausing when he hissed a low sound of discomfort. “-neither are you.”

“Conclusions?”

“I’m observant enough to know that wasn’t your first fight with whoever that was,” she clarified, her sights now studying his hand. “In fact, I think I remember seeing a recent photo of you that proves that.”

“Ah, I must say I didn’t think you’d be a tabloid reader,” he replied. “You know that’s the same old publication that would have you believe the Queen is a frivolous drunk.”

“Yeah, while using the gossip column as a news outlet can be very interesting,” she laughed, scouting out a cotton bandage roll from the first aid kit below the sink and setting it aside. “I’m also just….good at reading people.”

She wasn’t lying - he could tell that much as he watched her eyes decipher the current situation. It scared him on some level to think that she might understand him more than she was letting on, but the soothing movement of her touch as she tended to his hand made his insecurity a little easier to ignore - at least for now.

“There,” she said softly as she looked up for a sign of validation. “Better?”

“Thank you,” he nodded as he regained some sense, his eyes falling carefully on the way her fingers and the bandage curled gently around his hand. “But you know you don’t have to do that.”

“I don’t mind,” she assured him. “After all, this is kind of indirectly my fault.”

“It wasn’t,” he disagreed. “I just didn't….well, you shouldn’t have to deal with Gideon Gold - and I guess the idea of being a gentleman lead me to being a bit rash.”

“Oh, so now you’re a gentleman,” she smiled, looking down at his wrapped knuckles. “Is that what we’re calling this?”

“I’m always a gentleman,” he grinned in return. “But I guess I haven’t proved that much in the past.”

Killian bit his lip as her smile shifted to a smirk, the feel of his teeth on the minor wound reminding him that his choice was a bad one. The past, he thought briefly - did they even have one of those? Their interactions up to this point hadn’t been totally honest or all that coordinated, but it was still something.

He wondered quietly if she felt that way too.

“It’s okay,” she said after a moment. “But for future reference, I can take care of myself you know.”

“I suppose I should have recognized that.”

“Well, in your defense, we don’t exactly know each other,” she replied, shaking her head immediately. “I mean, we don’t really-”

“Aye,” he cut in with a smirk. “I should apologize for that too.”

“For the balcony or for bumping into me?”

“Both,” he shrugged. “Not my finest moments.”

“Or….mine, I guess,” she told him. “But maybe, we should just….start over?”

“Hmmm,” he sighed, lowering his hand. “How’s that?”

He was having a hell of a time not staring at her. Her hair hung loosely in waves that shifted on her shoulders each time she moved and the constantly changing expression on her face kept him guessing despite the throbbing in his rattled skull. This wasn’t the first time he’d noticed how beautiful she was, but the close proximity they’d now found themselves in seemed to magnify this attraction he had to her. Starting over was probably the best offer he could hope for given their rather odd beginning and he waited to hear just how she planned on initiating that, his gaze analyzing the curve of her lips in the meantime.

“Emma Nolan,” she said with a rather adorable half smile. “Nice to meet you, Your Highness.”

He grinned slowly, the slight stretch of his lower lip testing the scar that was likely forming there from the last battle with Gideon. There was something so casually innocent and sweet about her actually offering a real introduction that he couldn’t help but play right into it.

“Aye, a pleasure, lass-” he countered, slightly raising his eyebrow. “-and Killian will do.”

“Okay then-” she finally conceded. “-Killian.”

Her eyes were even more green than he’d originally concluded, the deep emerald hue of them paired with a hint of forgiveness he truly hadn��t earned. The pain brought on by his recent conflict in the bar seemed to fade ever so slightly as he held her gaze with a fascination he didn’t understand. There was something about her - something so guarded and beautifully hidden in her eyes - and he let a goal of unmasking it form in his weary mind. The fact that she’d be gone soon prodded him and he felt his shoulders shrink with the cruelty of that knowledge.

Why had he wasted so much time? Why had he been avoiding this? Why in the bloody hell did she captivate him in such a vexing way?

“God, there you are,” Arthur gasped, his sudden presence causing their staring contest to lapse. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah….yes - fine,” Killian answered, trying to pick the right words. “Look, I didn’t know he would….I’m sor-”

“It’s alright, Killian - that wasn’t you,” Arthur assured him, looking toward Emma curiously before resuming his breathless speech. “Glad you’re fixed up. Can you stand?”

“Aye-”

“Okay, good….and I hate to add insult to literal injury, but while that wasn’t pretty, things are about to get a lot worse,” Arthur warned, his eyes anxious and filled with concern. “Your brother is on his way. We need to get you out of here.”

Tagging some friends: @xpumpkindumplingx, @jennifer-morrison, @spartanguard, @laschatzi, @kat2609, @eala-captian, @allietumbles, @andiirivera, @kmomof4, @galadriel26, @timeless-love-story, @msres, @harryandthecambridges, @thesschesthair, @its-like-a-story-of-love, @lovelycssefan, @hooksheroicheart, @cat-sophia, @gonzothegreat90, @rebelcxptain, @prairiepirate, @yesplskillianjones, @jennjenn615, @heomomka, @fckyesroyals, @lenfazreads, @cherrywolf713, @lucasxdorothy, @lifeinahole27, @hollyethecurious, @fairytalesandtimetravel, @pirateherokillian, @shipsxahoy, @onceuponarelm, @winterbaby89, @captain-k-jones, @weall-l00k-the-same-inthe-dark, @shady-swan-jones, @captainswanparrilla, @ilovemesomekillianjones, @princesseslikepirates, @sherifffjones, @deathbycaptainswan

#cs ff #cs au ff #cs modern royalty au #prince!killian #cs fic update #captain swan #killian jones #emma swan

82 notes · View notes

hungrywhovianjedi · 8 years ago

Text

It Hurts To See You and Him

Hook is pulled into a curse which sends him back in time, to when Neal and Emma are on their whirl-wind romance, robbing convenience stores, and squatting in hotel rooms. But what will Killian do when August comes into play and he has to watch Emma experience the heartbreak that built all of her walls? Will he change the past? Or let Emma down in her time of need?

Chapter 7

read the rest

Prologue, chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6

also on FFN

tagging a few who showed interest last chapter: @teamhook @flyflyangel @revanmeetra87

Killian and Neal shared a look, Killian had the dagger tucked back into his coat. Neal nodded at the pirate. Then taking twin breaths, the two men stepped into the swirling maelstrom. The magic swirled around them, filling all of their senses. Then just as the first two times Killian had been through them within the past few trips, it was gone suddenly.

Neal stumbled, "Jesus Christ!" he gasped, "That was a trip."

Killian chuckled, "Aye, first time, I ended up in a pile of trash." He glanced at his companion, the night air cool, as an owl hooted nearby. "It was certainly smoother when Zelena cast it." he said, "Come, I believe this is the correct night. So we have to hurry." He said, starting forward without waiting for a response.

Neal hesitated for a moment. He thought of all those moments he and Emma shared, him helping Henry with his first steps. Taking them to Navy Pier on vacation when Henry was six. Their little house in Tallahassee, dancing with Emma at their wedding. Hearing their son's first words "Dada" reading the little boy bedtime stories. Holding Emma's hand as she gave birth. Holding her as they watched the sunset from the hood of the bug, Henry sleeping soundly between them. Kissing her in the rain, after a nasty fight, where Emma had almost left him, taking Henry with her. Finding an old beat up storybook in a bookstore, for their son, who was just turning ten.

With one moment in time once changed, all of it would be gone. "Baelfire? Are you coming?" Hook asked, from where he stood at the corner, "I recognize this place."

Neal felt a scowl despite his efforts. Hook. While he lost everything, He would be getting everything. Then that night flashed through his mind. The darkness, swirling down towards Regina, and Emma coming up with an idea. Running forward before they could stop her, the dagger plunging into the inky blackness, as it switched its target, swirling around her, swallowing her. So with a cough he nodded, and followed Killian. He needed to save Emma. No matter how much it might kill him.

They followed the path Hook took on his first trip through. Spotting August finishing up packing his bike before he left. He paused, mouth open "What?" The puppet asked curiously. Both men ignored him, and carried on.

When they came to the phone booth, Killian and Neal both paused, neither wanting to see what came next happen. Neither wanted her heart to break. But both knew there was no other option. They had to keep Emma from filling her heart with darkness.

They saw past Neal pacing in front of the phone booth. Torn by indecision. Then he moved forward, stepped in, and held up the coins.

"Stop." Past Killian says in a stern voice.

Killian watches as Neal goes rigid. Fear radiating off of the man, as he responds quiet enough that the two men on the sidelines couldn't hear, thought they both knew what was said.

The past pirate steps into the light, looking menacing and angry, "Don't make that call." He warns in a low voice, that carries perfectly, "It'll be the biggest mistake of your life."

Neal scowls, clenching his fist at his side, "It would be easier to do it now." He growls, "Get it done with. It'll be easier."

Killian shook his head, "You and I both know it won't be. I was very angry here. We don't want me murdering you, because you turned her dark."

"I didn't!" Neal hissed.

A glance from pirate to thief, "He won't care. He'll see the name, and he'll attack. I may be reformed, but that doesn't mean the pirate is gone."

"Question is, will you let history repeat itself?" Past Killian was asking.

"So we wait till you guilt me into staying, then we guilt me into leaving?" Neal glared, "We're gonna give past me whiplash"

"What is this? Back to the future?" Neal throws up his hands with a laugh, "Okay Marty McFly, next are you going to tell me I have to go punch you and become her hero?"

"I still have no idea what that means." Killian admitted, "Though Emma said something similar when we took the time portal of Zelena's."

Neal huffed softly, "Doesn't surprise me. We used to love watching that movie together."

"In the future, I love her. It took so long to get her heart to open up, she was broken when I met her. That call destroys Emma Swan the way she is." He warns. Killian knew he was right. Knew that the Emma he knew, was not the Emma blindly trusting Neal Cassidy.

"Maybe that's what makes the savior." Past Neal reasons. Neal grits his teeth. Knowing that he had really believed that. But there was also that familiar tang of fear. Fear that his father would find him. That he would end up right back where he was when he was a boy. Firmly beneath his father's thumb. Though it had helped that Rumpelstiltskin hadn't known it was him, until he was about to yank Emma out of town, to try and find him.

That had been the source of one of the greatest fights he and Emma ever had. She had almost punched him right there, because he had kept that from her. Had never told her he knew about the magic, when he had encouraged her to listen to Henry, and find Storybrooke. The town their son was certain held all the secrets of her life.

"Like father, like son." He hears past Killian growl.

"That was a low blow." Neal said to Killian beside him.

Killian shakes his head, "I had no other option left. You denied me. I needed to convince you."

"I'm nothing like my father." The younger man said in a harsh voice, turning his back to the older pirate.

"Still. Really shitty move. Doubt you'd like me saying you were just like your dad." Neal reasoned, "Something tells me we have shitty father figures in common."

Killian gritted his teeth, thinking not for the first time in the past few months, that he would become like Brennan Jones. But he knew in his heart, he would never abandon Henry. Nor any child that he and Emma might ever have. "I fear I might already be becoming so." He said softly. "Brennan Jones was a criminal, and I am no better."

Neal surprised him by laughing a low laugh, that their past counterparts would not hear, "I'd say you must be. From the look on your face, Brennan Jones wouldn't be fighting so hard to get back to a woman. Or a kid that isn't his."

Killian sighed, "Considering I would never leave Henry in the binds of slavery to buy passage to escape my crimes. I would say, in that way, I am different from my father. But in all the rest, I can claim no innocence."

"You must have done something right though. If you got Emma to fall in love with you." Neal whispered, as he heard his past self to yell for Hook to wait, "I was a good father." He tells him, "Despite what I may have done. I was a good father for Henry. A good husband for Emma. I never hurt them."

Killian looked over to the other man, and saw how much he was hurting. "I'm sorry. I know. I could see it in your eyes, the way you shielded your son. I know. I'm sorry I have to take that away from you." He looked down in shame, "I'm sorry that I made you know what you could have had."

"I wouldn't change it." Neal said softly. "Even if I stop existing right now, because you change it. I wouldn't trade getting to love Emma Swan. Even if that stubborn woman wouldn't take my name when we got married. I wouldn't trade a second."

Killian looks him in the eye, before the moment is broken, by Neal calling after Killian below them, "Then I won't." Past Neal promises.

"Unfortunately." Killian said softly, as the other him called back, "You will make that call."

Neal closed the phone booth, and was starting to leave, when Neal called out to him. "Hey, Stop."

Past Neal froze. "Who's there?" he demanded.

"It's us, mate." Killian said as he and Neal stepped out into the light.

"Hook?" He asked, eyes darting down the road, "What the hell?" Then his eyes landed on the other Neal, "What the hell?" he asked again.

"Surprise." Neal said, shrugging his shoulders, "Listen man. I know what other Hook there said…"

"No!" They were both unsurprised by his anger.

"It's the only way. Things from when I'm from? Not good. Really not good." Neal reasoned with his past self, "And this?" he gestured between them, "Is the only way to protect Emma."

Past Neal cut to Hook, "He changed your mind pretty quick, huh? Five seconds ago, you were telling me not to."

Killian nodded, "Things change. I saw where the decision to lead, and it's not good."

"It was for a long time, thirteen years. It was good for thirteen years. But, something happened. Something happened to Emma." Neal corrected. "This is the only way to protect her." He said, ducking his head.

"Like hell. I'm not letting you talk me out of this. I'm not leaving Emma, and my son."

"You didn't care a moment ago." Killian stated, with a raised brow.

Neal glared at him, "Well, things change, mate." He snapped, "I'm not abandoning my son."

"So you would rather her turn dark?" the older Neal questioned, "Because that's what happens. You stay, she goes dark."

Neal let out a laugh, "Yeah right." He glared at Killian "You did this. Decided that you couldn't live without her? So you thought, I'll just go back, and make sure she gets to be mine?"

Killian glared, "No. I wouldn't do that to Henry. Or Emma. They don't deserve what you need to do." He reached into his coat, hand closing around the hilt of the dagger, "But you know what? Emma doesn't deserve this either!" He snarled, whipping it out, letting it hang in the air between them. Emma's name clearly etched onto its surface.

Neal looked down, with a silent sorrow, as past Neal recoiled in fear, "No!" he gasped, his eyes focused on the dagger, then cut to Neal, then back to Killian, "This is a joke, right? Emma's not… Rumpelstiltskin, my father, he's the dark one. Not Emma."

"He is, if you make that call." Neal told him, forcing Killian's arm down, taking the dagger, which filled him with dread out of sight. "But if you don't. If you choose to go to Emma, you set her on the path to this." He gestured to the dagger that Killian held in a death grip.

"I guess August was right…" Neal whispered, "So, I leave Emma, she's okay?" This time it was aimed at Killian.

"Eventually. It takes her a long time to trust again. But she'll be fine, one day." He says truthfully, "When last I saw her, she was dancing beneath the stars. Her light shone so bright. I'm trying to reconcile that Emma with the one that we are here to save. I can't, there was no light in her eyes. She was not the woman either of us love."

Neal shook his head, "So I leave, she's happy? I stay, she's the dark one." He looked up at his future self, "Not much of a choice."

"Let her go. I'll protect her heart, once she lets me. I promise. Just let Emma go. Protect her heart."

"By breaking it."

Killian looked down, "Aye, but a broken heart can be healed, a darkened heart is dark forever." Killian wanted to reach out. Wanted to comfort the man in front of him, "I'm sorry." He turned to the Neal he had come with, "I'm so sorry."

"Sorry doesn't make this any easier," Neal growled, but he turned away from Killian and the older Neal and went to the phone again, and he dialed. He told the police where to find Emma. That she had one of the watches, and when he was done, he turned to speak to the two men who came to warn him, but they were gone. Just like when he woke alone in a world he didn't know all those years ago. Neal had lost everything.

~~CS~~

When Killian came to, he was laying on his back aboard the Jolly Roger He groaned, throwing an arm over his face.

"Gee, I didn't think I'd tired you out that badly. Here I thought you could hold your rum." A familiar, feminine voice joked, he peered over his arm, and felt a smile tugging at his lips.

"Not at all, lass. I was simply overwhelmed by your absence." He joked, "I'm being dramatic, the lad mentioned it worked on you,"

Emma laughed, a full and light laugh, "Oh now did he?" She questioned, "I'm going to have to have a talk with that kid,"

He sat up, "Perhaps, or you could come and give a pirate a kiss."

She shook her head, "You never give up, do you." She chuckled, moving in closer. "But, I was never very good at saying no." she said, ghosting her lips over his. He took control, catching her and pulling her down into his lap, and kissing her fully.

She pulled back, "What was that for?" she asked, kissing his jaw.

He smiled, "I just missed you is all." He whispered, nuzzling his nose into her hair.

Sneak peek at next week!

Killian couldn't breathe, this wasn't happening. He wasn't going to lose her like this.

#whovian writes #ouat ff #IHTSYH #cs ff #cs

10 notes · View notes

gleefail · 4 years ago

Text

Glee Memories: 1x14 Hell-O

A long, long time ago, as Glee was approaching graduation in Season 3, I found myself nostalgic with some rare free time on my hands. So I decided to rewatch the series from the beginning and jot down some memories, discrepancies that have arisen since, fave quotes, tally solos - all that good stuff, strictly for shits and giggles.

8 years later (eek!) and once more I find myself with an unexpected abundance of free time. With so many revisiting or being newly introduced to the show between binge watching during Quarantine and all the tragedy that has surrounded the show since it went off the air, I figured I’d finish what I started. And by finish, I mean go through the end of S3. Cause I truly cannot acknowledge what happened after that. Except for 5B.

Kicking this off by reposting the first 15 episodes I already went through. Enjoy!

1x14 Hell-O Let the record show: the “So here’s what you missed on Glee” guy is now the guy we have come to know and love (Ian Brennan, right?)

“We’re glitterati. I feel like Lady Gaga.”

Add Mercedes to the list of Glee clubbers who’ve been slushied!! So it’s Rachel, Finn, Quinn, Kurt, Puck, Mr. Schue, and Mercedes. Leaving…Santana, Britany (has she EVER been slushied?), Artie, Matt and Mike. Right?

Will: Now you’re saying we have to place at Regionals or the Glee club’s gone? Me: That’s what he said in the first place!! What is going on?! Figgins; Schue, that was the deal from the beginning. Me: *satisfied* Hooray for continuity!

“Those spotlights in the auditorium don’t run on dreams.”

Sue’s back!

haha. Sue blowing on Figgins’ ear ‘romantically’

“Would’ve gotten you one, Will, but…I don’t like you.”

So…Finn sucks at basketball and is depressed.

Yeah, Puck just told Quinn he’s not break ing up with her but she needs to stop supersizing cause he doesn’t dig on fat chicks. A couple things: 1. Last episode didn’t she turn him down saying she was doing this on her own? In the words of my one true love Trouty Mouth, “that’s what I thought.” 2. Puck doesn’t dig on ‘fat chicks’? #oops Glee.

“I’m pregnant!” “And that’s MY fault?” …Puck might be as simple-minded as Finn.

So Finn and Rachel are dating now. When did that start? Who decided that? Might’ve been nice to see…

Oh yeah. Sue drugged Figgins and blackmailed him to get reinstated. Damn, I miss when this show had balls to do stuff like this and not apologize for laughing hysterically at it.

Damn, Figgins is hairy as hell.

“What do you guys say when you answer the phone?” “Waddup?” “Who dis be?” “No, she’s dead. This is her son.” HA!

Did Alexander Graham Bell really answer his phone “Ahoy ahoy!”? Can I start answering my phone like that? I CAN AND I WILL!

haha. Rachel wears training bras.

“Only this time I can just lean over and kiss you if I want to…and I want to.” Still makes my ovaries tingle. Lalalerr.

“We were seduced by the glitz and glamour of showbiz”

I’ve just pinpointed my problem (if you can call it that) with the Will/Finn relationship: I feel like we never really saw it start. It just doesn’t sit right with me. It’s always felt forced and like “look at how close and father/son they are” but…when did that start or develop into that so we could fall in love with it along the way? Answer: it didn’t. They just started saying it was already to that point rather than showing us how they got there, if that makes sense. Compare that to the Sue/Becky relationship and how we’ve watched it progress and how invested I am in that and there’s a clear difference. I wonder why they did this this way. And how much more I might care if they hadn’t. Hmm.

“Oh you mean like, meeting other girls? Cause I think I’m dating Rachel. At least she sure thinks I am.” #BlessFinnsHeart Also, why does Glee leave this unclear? :(

Mr. Schue just told Finn he wants him to sing. Finn’s response “so that’s why the band’s here” and a dopey grin. #BlessFinnsHeart

Ok. I’ve never been the biggest fan of Finn. I think he’s funny when they let him be humorous. But he’s never been my dreamboat on this show. HOWEVER…Finn in pursuit of a lady is Finn at his hottest in my opinion. I pay attention when that’s happening, lol.

Apparantly Kurt agrees. He is like a cat in heat over there. Lordy!

Aw, Brittana walk with linked pinkies. Forgot about that being their thing. I love that Quinn sees that and immediately knows they’re up to something, lol.

So…Finn thinks he’s dating Rachel…and agrees to go on a threesome date with Brittana…and when Rachel kinda catches him, he lies. Oh boy. Why did they make this unhealthy from the start if we were supposed to be rooting for this as the power couple on the show?

Rachel’s speech to Finn when he says he doesn’t wanna be her boyfriend is effing spot on.

God. I’ve been in Rachel’s position where her andFinn just ended things and he’s immediately flirting very openly with other girls right in front of her like he could give a shit. I feel your pain, girl.

Aw. Puck and Quinn are being supercute during this song.

“I’m sorry. I was just focusing on the first syllable.”

“Your rendition of Don’t Rain On My Parade was flawed. You totally lack Barbara’s emotional depth.” PREACH!

Haha. Jesse reads celebrity biographies for lifestyle tips.

I love Jonathon Groff on this show. LOVED him in Spring Awakening and was so stoked to hear he’d be on this show. I gotta say, his chemistry with Lea Michele is flawless.

Haha. Confession: I love Lionel Ritchie. And this song makes me giggle cause of the video he did for it.Heeee!

Aw. Finn was a dipshit and dumped her and now the star of Vocal Adrenaline, who is just as crazy driven as she is, asked her out. Even rewatching it I’m happy for Rachel Berry.

“There was a mouse in mine.”

I love Brittana talking about the hottest guys in school right in front of Finn like he’s not even there.

Is it just me, or is it gross that they put a lemon slice on your spaghetti at Breadstix? Yuck.

“You buy us dinner, and we make out in front of you.” Oh Brittana. :)

“Those sweaters make her look homeschooled.”

“Don’t make fun of Rachel. She’s kinda cool….” “Finn. That’s mean.”

“Did you know that dolphins are just gay sharks?”

Ugh. I still hate this Wemma scene to Hello Again. So boring.

“I dunno why but…I’ve always had a soft spot for this song” Oh ouch. Knowing now why…ouch.

Emma’s a virgin. I remember thinking “well damn. This’ll drag out forever…”

What. The hell. Is that picture Rachel has in her locker of Jesse? It looks like she drew it herself in crayon. Omg. How’d I never notice that before. Ha!

Ok, WORST way to get a girl back EVER: repeat Finn’s words to Rachel right now. “I realized I don’t wanna date other girls. Only you. You do talk too much and usually you just talk about yourself but…at least I don’t feel alone when I’m with you.” – EFF YOU, FINN! Also, remember when Mr. Schue told Rachel she’d find a boy whose favorite parts about Rachel would be the bad stuff? Yeah, so far that’s not Finn.

Atta girl, Rachel!

I’m sorry, but it’s douchey that Finn ran to Mr. Schue to tattle on Rachel dating the competition. Like…so what? My God. My students date kids in other showchoirs all the time. In real life, kids make great friendships with kids in other choirs. …but it’s Glee.

“I didn’t wear a bra and I had them turn on the air-conditioning.”

“I am engorged with venom and triumph.”

Vocal Adrenaline are inhumanly good dancers. My. God.

Yaaaaay, Idina Menzel!

“You wanna look so talented it’s literally hurting you. I want a look so optimistic it could cure Cancer.”

Will is concerned with the ‘fraternizing with the enemy’ aspect of the Rachel/Jesse relationship. Oh my God. Get over yourself or you’re in for a lot of trouble over the years,Will. How can he do this and then preach that he wants to blur the lines between Football/Cheerios and Glee Club? Double-standard hypocrite. I’m annoyed with him.

And now Will and Shelby are makin’ out. While he’s still pursuing Emma. Oh boy. You jerk. Also, as hot as Matthew Morrison is, I still watch this and think this couldn’t be fun for Idina. Cause she’s married to Taye Diggs and I imagine nothing compares to the kisses of Chocolate Lovin’ (as I call him).

“Are you gay? Cause most of the showchoir directors I make out with are gay.”

“Cut the butter, Benedict Arnold.”

Okay, I will say, as much as it annoys me, the way Tina, Artie, Kurt and Mercedes are presenting their concerns over Rachel being with Jesse makes perfect sense and kinda won me over. They’re only asking her to hold off until after Regionals so they don’t risk a repeat of what happened at Sectionals. Mercedes said they’re all happy that she’s happy but they’re worried he might be playing her. This sounds like genuine concern for her and hesitancy to trust the competition. Very different than the game Schue and Finn are playing.

“Look, we not saying that dude is playing you-“ “He’s playing you.” Kurtcedes love.

It is sad to watch them threaten to quit or kick her out if she doesn’t break up with him and she’s being vulnerable and asking how they could do that to her.

Aw. Poor Rachel. :( Jesse’s so good for her!

“Everyone is replaceable. Even you.” I love that someone (Kurt) said this to Rachel. And meant it. I hate that the show has since forgotten that nugget of truth though.

The McKinley High Old Maids Club.

Another Lauren Zizes sighting! Yay!

This Emma and Terri scene makes me so uncomfortable.

“I carry a rape whistle!”

Rachel is talking crazy and Jesse just laughed at how cute she is and how much more of a drama queen she is than him. Listen, I didn’t LOVE this pairing the first time around, but right now…perfection.

Hello was Terri and Will’s junior prom song. Ouch.

This is very smart and mature that Emma and Will are not pursuing their relationship yet because he needs to be alone for awhile. It made me sad at the time but…it’s ridiculous to think for a second that he doesn’t need a break between divorcing the woman he’s been with since he was 15 and heading into another relationship. Well done, Glee.

Rachel tells Finn to spread the word she ended things with Jesse. He tells her he wants to be with her and that he circled some dates on her ‘crazy calendar’ (eff you, Finn). Um, wtf? She just broke up with someone else that she didn’t want to break up with (well, not really but, as far as Finn is concerned) and he’s assuming she’ll want to get back together with him? Ugh. Douche Finn.

haha, Finn seems extremely confused that Rachel is rejecting HIM for a change. I actually really like this dynamic.

I hate to admit it, but…Finn is super hot in Goodbye/Hello. I’m tellin’ ya, the only dreamboat Finn in my world is a Finn in pursuit of a lady…

SOLOS: Finn (2), Rachel (3), Jesse (2)

#Glee Memories #Glee #lol Glee #Glee Hell-O

0 notes

scoutshonor56 · 8 years ago

Text

The Morning After...

“It is well known at the coronation of kings and queens, even modern ones, a certain curious process of seasoning them for their functions is gone through. There is a saltcellar of state, so called, and there may be a castor of state. How they use the salt, precisely – who knows? Certain I am however, that a king’s head is solemnly oiled at his coronation, even as a head of salad. Can it be, though, that they anoint it with a view of making its interior run well, as they anoint machinery? Much might be ruminated here, concerning the essential dignity of this process, because in common life we esteem but meanly and contemptibly a fellow who anoints his hair, and palpably smells of that anointing. In truth, a mature man who uses hair oil, unless medicinally, that man has probably got a quoggy spot in him somewhere. As a general rule, he can’t amount to much in his totality.”

Sorry, I couldn’t resist that one, and allow me to briefly explain: I was cruising the aisles of my local bookstore the other day, checking on a few authors, when I passed a stack of books piled on a table, marked ALL BOOKS $7.95. “Holy crap”, I thought when there on the top was a hardback edition of Melvilles’ “Moby Dick”! My second thought was “I can’t believe I’ve never read it…” A classic for eight bucks? I must give it a try.

It was written in 1851, and this afternoon I’m about 100 pages into it when I came across the above passage, being a rumination by Ishmael as he ponders in defense the authentication, both morally and financially, of the whaling industry and its harvesting of oil, his newly chosen profession, and adventure, after leaving his past life aboard merchant vessels behind.

But enough literary talk – other than to say so far I am really enjoying the book – let’s return to the present, where our new Commander in Chief started his first days in the Oval Office over this past weekend! I’m going to refrain from commenting on his Inaugural Address (for the most part), as that would at least double the length of this blog, but for anyone who is interested, there was an excellent piece by Charles Blow in this morning’s NY Times that says it way better than I could anyways.

Now most people would think – including all modern day presidents of my lifetime – that it would be time to put the long, grueling campaign, the rancor, and all of Friday’s pomp and celebration behind, roll up your sleeves, put the big boy pants on, and play president… stop, you’re killing me! You don’t know Donny Little Hands very well do you? And no, I’m not going to let that moniker go, as it so perfectly encapsulates this man’s most obvious and deep character flaw – his vanity and fragile ego. When Marco Rubio tossed that juvenile, “wink-wink” lob Trump’s way back in the early days of the GOP primaries, Donny didn’t let go of it for weeks, literally compelled by the unstoppable urge to proudly display the size of his (pussy grabbing) hands every chance he had thereafter. He did everything short of pulling an Anthony Weiner. By the way, that was also the moment I got my first inkling that this whole presidential race just took a hard turn into the ridiculous. Somehow I just couldn’t imagine any past, running candidate bringing up an opponent's questionable penis size during a debate. Well, to be fair, that reveals as much about Rubio as it does about Trump…

So let’s get to it; first order of business? Lash out against “the false press” Saturday morning (who later that day he characterized as “among the most dishonest human beings on earth”) for releasing those phony photos comparing his tepid inauguration crowd to Obama’s in 2009. Donny Little Hands’ guesstimation? “The largest inaugural crowd ever”, “a million and a half, at least”. Does this guy ever get tired of talking in superlatives? Virtually everything in his world is “the biggest!”, “the best!”, the smartest!”, “amazing!”, “most beautiful!”…

I myself was awed by his greatness right off the bat when watching a re-play of his inauguration speech I noticed he kicked it off by first thanking Chief Justice Roberts, past living presidents, people of America, and then finished with thanking “the people of the world”… WOW, who would have guessed this past election included the entire global population! No wonder Hillary lost! Later he continued with “You came by the tens of millions to become part of a historic movement, the likes of which the world has never seen before.” What is this, the Second Coming? Did the mother ship from “Independence Day” just land?

Hey Donny – for a more accurate look at the world’s opinion of you, ahh, did you happen to catch any of the crowds (especially in Washington, where his inauguration numbers were dwarfed) from Saturday’s global Women’s March? From this humble observers chair it looked like just as much a repudiation of you and everything you represent as it was about Woman Power… just sayin’…

And how could he miss it; by now I imagine the Oval Office desk has been cleared of everything other than a gold framed picture of himself and a TV monitor, where he gets all of his news and updates. The last time Donny read anything other than one of his tweets it was his latest class action law suit, and even then, after a scant couple of minutes he probably gave his attorney a bored look before telling him, “Just give me the bullet-points, Jason…”

But back to Saturday: in dual attack mode, he sends out his new press secretary, Sean Spicer, for his own inaugural session, at the podium in front of the shark tank called the White House Press Room – and after Trump feeding them verbal chum for months, they were ready to start circling the body. A nervous Spicer in an ill-fitting suit – almost a David Byrne-ish looking “big suite” - lamely tried to issue his boss’s retaliatory response while looking like a high schooler called to the front of the class to read his term paper. Report issued, he quickly retreated off stage without responding to, or even acknowledging, one single question.

Why even have a “press room”? Why not just set aside the pretense and re-name it “Proclamations of the King”?

Later that same day DLH (Little Hands, remember?) paid a shmoozy, lame, and totally transparent visit to C.I.A. headquarters to address its curious crowd of workers and head honchos: Hey, you know when I compared you guys to the Nazi’s just last week and how I once used quotation marks around the word “Intelligence” when referring to you in my tweets? JUST KIDDING! I love you guys!!

During a fifteen minute suck up he didn’t last five before cranking up the uncontrollable, self-aggrandizement preening machine, and then quickly moving on for the rest of the speech to crying like a little bitch about the hateful press – poor little Donny, he just can’t help himself.

The all-hands crowd gave the same respectful, perfunctory applause as any worker when a new manager takes over their department and he’s a well known incompetent asshole, but you feel compelled to put on the smile mask and clap anyways, because you want to keep your job. Hey, my sympathies, I’ve been there many a time!

From Saturday’s NY Times: Nick Shapiro, who served as chief of staff to John O. Brennan, who resigned Friday as the C.I.A. director, said Mr. Brennan “is deeply saddened and angered at Donald Trump’s despicable display of self-aggrandizement in front of C.I.A.’s Memorial Wall of Agency heroes.

Brennan says that Trump should be ashamed of himself,” Mr. Shapiro added.

“I was heartened that the president gave a speech at C.I.A.,” said Michael V. Hayden, a former director of the C.I.A. and the National Security Agency. “It would have been even better if more of it had been about C.I.A.”

Representative Adam B. Schiff of California, the ranking Democrat on the House Intelligence Committee, said “While standing in front of the stars representing C.I.A. personnel who lost their lives in the service of their country — hallowed ground — Trump gave little more than a perfunctory acknowledgment of their service and sacrifice. He will need to do more than use the agency memorial as a backdrop if he wants to earn the respect of the men and women who provide the best intelligence in the world.”

Ouch! What the hell, he’s already made it clear that he will treat the daily intelligence briefings with less interest and enthusiasm than the Wall Street Journal stock exchange reports, recently dismissing them with the incredible statement given to Fox News "I don't have to be told — you know, I'm, like, a smart person," Trump said. "I don't have to be told the same thing and the same words every single day for the next eight years. It could be eight years — but eight years. I don't need that." Wow! And he’s already predicting a second tour of duty!

Anyways, this all leaves me thinking the day-to-day operations in the White House will from here on be conducted something like this:

V.P. Pence entering the Oval Office: Mr. President, Congress just submitted a rough draft of our health care transition budget and…

DLH: Wait a minute, wait a minute, Mike – did you see what CNN said about me this morning? Call Spicer!!

Member of the advisory group in a roundtable meeting: Mr. President, there was another mass shooting yesterday and the press wants to know…

DLH: Fuck that, you know what Chuck Todd said about me over the weekend on Meet the Press? Kellyanne, get Spicer in here NOW!

Secretary of Defense, James Maddis: Mr. President, Kim Jong-un, in response to your speech yesterday has again brought up possible nuclear retaliation…

DLH: Who? Oh yeah, the guy with the funny haircut… hold that thought Jimmy, did anyone else see this last night?

Throw this guy a bone, and he will jump every time if his ego feels the least bit slighted, and the bigger the perceived slight, the more tenaciously Donny hangs onto it. Speaking of Kellyanne Conway and Chuck Todd, they actually did spar over the weekend around the issue of Sean Spencer’s ridiculous statements (lies) to the press, and in her boss’s defense she used the phrase “alternative facts”. Say what..? I busted my brain over the cryptic and diametrically opposed nature of that use of these two words as a sensible phrase, especially coming out of the mouth of a presidential spokesperson and advisor. Ahem, if I may – one more time you bimbo Pinocchio; unless we’re in the land of quantum physics, or at Hogwart University, a “fact” is a fact, singular by definition and indisputable, whether you and your boss like it or not. An “alternative fact” is self-negating. Now go back to your new and plush office with the great view and don’t come out until you understand the concept of “fact”.

Let us start to wind this down tonight with one of my “Top 10” peeves with this orange-headed clown, a particularly frustrating one: Yesterday his aides again repeated that he will not be releasing his recent tax returns – a presidential tradition of courtesy and openness unbroken since 1976 – dismissing the issue with the glib, ignorant, and totally false assertion that “people don’t care”. Yes they DO care. I care. As a matter of fact, an official, on-line White House petition for such, posted January 20th, got almost three times the required 100,000 e-signatures (including mine) within 24 hours - and the list is still growing. Suck on that, Assclown. What is any normal, clear thinking person who’s brain isn’t stuck in neutral (or reverse) supposed to deduce from this position other than those returns include a potential career bomb that would start you on the path shared only by Richard Nixon, as the second president of the United States forced out of office in shame and disgrace.

Throughout the 240 year history of this, our grand experiment in democracy – a word that didn’t appear once in DLH’s Inaugural speech – there have been times where great men had the “right stuff” to hold public office. Men who weren’t afraid to be held accountable for their words and actions. Such a man was our 26th president, Theodore Roosevelt; an American statesman, author, explorer, soldier, naturalist, and reformer, who served as our president from 1901 to 1909. On May 7, 1918, he was quoted in the Kansas City Star saying the following:

"The President is merely the most important among a large number of public servants. He should be supported or opposed exactly to the degree which is warranted by his good conduct or bad conduct, his efficiency or inefficiency in rendering loyal, able, and disinterested service to the Nation as a whole. Therefore it is absolutely necessary that there should be full liberty to tell the truth about his acts, and this means that it is exactly necessary to blame him when he does wrong as to praise him when he does right. Any other attitude in an American citizen is both base and servile. To announce that there must be no criticism of the President, or that we are to stand by the President, right or wrong, is not only unpatriotic and servile, but is morally treasonable to the American public. Nothing but the truth should be spoken about him or anyone else. But it is even more important to tell the truth, pleasant or unpleasant, about him than about anyone else."

In that spirit, no Mr. “President”, I will not stand down; I will not look the other way; I will not be silent; nor will I lesson my love and respect for this great nation, which is now in the hands of a contemptible fraud, who thus far has displayed nothing but pugnacious and liberal disregard for the norms and conventions of this highest of public office. You sir, in my estimation are less than a slick smear of horse shit on the bottom of Teddy Roosevelt’s boot.

*and a thanks and tip of the hat to Gary Trudeau for my header graphic – my sister recently said she simply can’t bear looking at Trump’s clownish visage gracing the top of my blog posts any longer!

0 notes