#trr forgive me

[mariemarieohcontrary]

Evangeline Lakandula my beloved 💖

God its been forever since I did this style it looks a bit wonky so I gotta get used to it again 😭

Interested in commissioning me? Click the source! 💗

[masked-alien-lesbian]

KTAW Day 3: Wine/Languages

Wine Aren't You Mine?

Kiara Theron x f!OC brief mention of Liam x Riley, Hana x Raelyn and Penelope x Ezekiel

The lunch Lord Breckenridge hosted for Kiara went well, nothing outwardly stood out to her. His manners were excellent, his conversation was engaging and he was the sort of man her parents could hope for in a son-in-law but...

"How did the date go?" Riley's text message blink back at her from her phone. Kiara bit her lip. She was grateful for Riley's attempt at matchmaking but every date missed the mark somehow. And the reason for that filtered through a row of grapes in her vineyard.

"Jag släppte dig men jag kommer att älska dig för alltid." [I let you go, but I will love you forever.] Kiara turned the corner and saw the most beautiful woman she ever saw singing in her own native language. When Allie looked up, she abruptly stopped and seemed to light up from the inside from the sight of Kiara.

"Your Grace! A good evening to you! You look ever so beautiful as usual." Allie says blushing at her own attempt at flirting.

Kiara smiles back, Allie had came to work at Castelsarrelian vineyards at Monsieur Bêron request. Hailing from Sweden, Allie had studied from the best in Italy before being snatched up, trained and became the head viticulturist after Monsieur Bêron retired. Kiara's mother worked with Monsieur in hauling all the finest French soil to start up their vineyards, Allie was the one who made sure it kept thriving.

"Hallå Ms. Larsson. How are you?" Kiara asks, delighting in the obvious attraction her viticulturist has for her. Allie may have thought she was being sly with her crush on her boss but Kiara had studied people and social cues at a very young age and she noticed how shy Allie became around her, how she blushed and stumbled over her words when Kiara looked at her. Kiara knew nothing could come from this relationship, it was inappropriate but she still found herself itching to touch the Swedish born woman's jaw, to lift her chin, to--Kiara mentally shook her head to clear it.

"I'm well! I was testing the pH levels of quadrant C's soil. After that intense storm we've had, some of the other quadrants soil was swept in quadrant C." Allie says clearly in her element.

"You work hard for me, Ms. Larsson, I'm ever grateful for you, tack. [Thank you]" Kiara says watching Allie's eyes lower coyly.

"Of course, anything you need of me, is yours, your grace." Allie says sending warmth to shoot through Kiara. She needed to get away before she lost her composure. She clears her throat and step back.

"I appreciate it, Ms. Larsson, I will allow you to get back to your work--"

"Wait, please your grace," Allie interrupts, a light touch on Kiara's wrist and big pleading hazel eyes, Kiara suddenly realized she'd throw everything away for this woman and that terrified her.

"The special Malbec that Monsieur cultivated should have aged properly, I was thinking we could taste it and make sure, and perhaps serve it for your parents' anniversary party next week."

"The wine from the last crop Monsieur Bêron oversaw before his retirement? Has it really been that long? That would be a nice touch for mother and father." Kiara says thoughtfully. Allie beam.

"I'll crack a bottle open with some refreshments. Meet me in the wine cellar in five!" Allie says before taking off excitedly.

Kiara looks over the tray of prosciutto, Asiago Tarragon and the bottle of Malbec, all proper appetizers that would pair well with a Malbec. Allie pops the cork and pours the both of them a glass. One taste and Kiara knew it was going to be a hit at her parents' anniversary party. It was a fruit bomb, round, smooth, fleshy...Kiara's eyes swept over Allie's lips.

"So? Your opinion?" Kiara inquires. Allie shrugs, swirls the Malbec in her glass.

"It's good. Definitely a crowd pleaser."

"But not your favorite?" Kiara asks. Allie grins.

"Give me a Shiraz any day of the week. Rich, full-bodied, velvety..." Allie says her eyes fluttering up to meet Kiara's. Kiara takes a sharp breath but let's it out when Allie changes the topic.

Even though Kiara has always tried to keep boundaries between her and the viticulturist, it was just so easy to talk to Allie. Soon she was talking about Riley's matchmaking attempts.

"I-I don't know. Perhaps I'm just too busy to maintain a relationship." Kiara trails off.

"Or perhaps, you're afraid."

"Excusez-moi?" Kiara says an eyebrow raised. Allie smiles kindly.

"You're afraid of opening yourself up to someone, of being vulnerable." Allie looks down and bites her lip. "Perhaps you're afraid of what other people will say or perhaps," Allie breathes out a shaky breath, "perhaps you're concerned that the one you want isn't able to provide for you and Castelsarrelian?" Kiara shakes her head in the negative.

"No, you ARE enough Allie, I-" Kiara trails off as she realized she finally voiced what was between her and Allie. She close her eyes as she mentally face palm but her eyes shot open when she felt Allie take her hands.

"It's rare when you find that one that lights up your soul, you know. If you let it slip away, it can be your biggest mistake." Allie says, Kiara looks away biting her lip. " But I'll never push you, I have too much respect for you." When Allie let go of Kiara's hands, she felt bereft. Kiara looked up to see Allie gathering the plates and their leftovers.

"I'll return these to the kitchens and head on home. Goodnight, your grace, må dina drömmar vara trevliga." [May your dreams be pleasant] Allie says smiling wistfully at Kiara before slipping out of the cellar.

Alone, Kiara contemplates the conversation she just had with Allie. So...they both have feelings for each other...a duchess and her viticulturist...it's not proper, the power imbalance alone, and yet...despite many people's disapproval...Kiara felt an ache that demanded her to go after Allie. She stood up sharply. Perhaps Allie could report to Joelle instead of Kiara. If Penelope could marry a vet, Hana could marry a previously undiscovered artist, and King Liam could marry a waitress, then Kiara could court a viticulturist. And with that firm decision, Kiara went after her.

@kiaratheronappreciationweek

@lizzybeth1986

@sazanes

[rosesnink]

Five Stages of Grief Series: Denial

Author's Notes

During the release of Bk2's early chapters, I wondered if anyone would be up for a fix-it fic of each reunions wit actually canon reactions. So here I am, after the b3 cover fiasco. This series will include Imtura, Tyril, Mal, Nia, Aerin and Valax's reactions. I've got taglist for everyone save Valax, since she was a LI later in the book. If you wanna be tagged in Valax's piece, let me know!

English isn't my first language, so please forgive any typo/grammar mistakes I may make

No beta, we die like men and all that jazz

If you wish to read more of my Blades writing, let me know!

If you want to read instead my TRR, COP, D&D or ACOR writing, check out my masterlist!

Likes are nice, but reblogs keep a post alive!

Summary: Nia deals with the aftermath of Brienne's disappearance

Word Count: 1.3k

Category: Angst, heartbreak, group fallout

Pairing: Nia Ellarious x F!Orc!MC (Brienne Nagoni, mentioned)

Rating: PG-13

TW: Alcohol abuse, religion

Book: Blades of Light and Shadow

The party was abuzz, and Nia observed bemused how, again, Mal and Tyril teased one another as Imtura and Brienne observed, chuckling. Threep was on her shoulder, eating treats as he and Loola commented on the scene.

Then, the purple vortex opened, and before she could properly react, Brienne had been snatched away. As the group argued loudly how to rescue her, Nia dropped on her knees, sniffling in silence ��Brienne…?”

Mal helped her up, rubbing her shoulders “Don’t worry, Priestess, we’ll get her back. We won’t give up on her.”

Everyone silently agreed to sleep this off and come back stronger tomorrow, after processing what just happened. For one moment, everything she ever dreamed of was at her fingertips: a woman she adored in the most delicious blasphemy that made the Gods jealous, a future, a sense of owning herself for the first time, and a world of possibilities at her fingertips.

But now, Brienne wasn’t there.

“She’ll come back,” Nia declared. “This is Brienne. She never gives up on anybody. She fights for her own. That is how we came to be. Because she loved Kade so much, she put herself through all of this for you, Kade. She’ll find a way back to us. To… to me.”

Silence rippled the room. Kade seemed convinced. She had crossed the entire continent once for him. Because that was Brienne. She loved with her whole self until the end.

Even if it meant ripping out her heart and throw it into a dark, bottomless pit.

Like she did when she stabbed Nia with the Sword of Light.

Because Brienne’s love for Nia was such, that she’d rather mourn the lamb she was than to condemn her to losing her entire self to greed and vengeance.

Three months flew by. Nia and her crew had gone to many places in the kingdom, on the quest for Brienne. Despite some moments, she knew that Brienne lived. She knew it deep into her soul. She kept praying, kept fighting despite wanting to lie down and cry. Because she knew Brienne would do the same. Because Brienne lived still, and she needed her. And because she wanted to breathe the same air again.

To smell her fragrance of jasmine, pine wood and poppies. Feel her warmth in her large, soft skin. Lie her head on her belly, that felt like the fluffiest of pillows. Hear her body work. Stroke her long, dark curly hair, always down with small braids. She had always wanted to braid it, feel the silky touch on her fingertips, to make her see herself as beautiful as Nia saw her.

And she would. Because Brienne was alive, and waiting for her to return the favor of saving her like she did when she was most alone and desperate.

“Nia?” Imtura called.

“Yes, Imtura?”

“…What if she’s dead?”

Nia shook her head “She’s not.”

“How would you even know?”

She clutched the bracelet Brienne retrieved in that forest for her, so she’d feel even the faintest ghost of her touch “A part of my soul would die, and my heart would be no more.”

Imtura looked down “Let us hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“It won’t. We’ll find her.”

Four months flew by, and the group was starting to lose hope. They had decided to rest on a tavern, where a very obviously drunk Imtura and a dejected Tyril fidgeted with themselves. Then, Imtura slurred “Alright, elephant in the room, I’ll say it: Brienne’s likely dead. Gone. Left to rot in a ditch and we’re just running circles.”

Tyril glared at her “If the Hero of Morella had died, Imtura, we would’ve known. Tragic news travel fast. Someone would’ve found her.”

“She’s not dead, Imtura, we just haven’t found her yet. These things take time.”

“And how come nobody in the continent have heard, hmm? Easy, she’s dead and all of this for nothing.”

Mal got up abruptly “I know you’re losing hope, but you don’t get to disregard Brienne’s life being at stake just like that.”

Imtura sized him up easily, being four heads taller than him “Brienne wouldn’t want us to waste our time with her death. So why delay it?”

Nia once again swallowed her anger and shook her head “She’s not dead.”

Imtura pointed a finger at her “You don’t know that, because, flash news, the heart and soul thing is bullshit! She’s dead, she’s not coming back and it’s time we own it.”

Tyril finally reacted, slamming his large hands so hard he broke the table and got up, eyes blazing fury “If you’re so keen on burying her alive, then do it away from us. Her true friends won’t give up on her and the search and will carry on.”

“Fine!” Imtura bellowed.

Then, got up and left, leaving behind shocked patrons and gossiping owners. Nia sighed.

She was alive. And the answer was back in

“Whitetower.”

Mal and Tyril looked at her like she had just turned green “Pardon?”

“A purple speck abducted her. Maybe Kade wasn’t far off when another possible realm abducted her for Gods knows what. We must investigate at once!”

Tyril looked at Nia sympathetically “I get where you come from, but we mustn’t leave any stone unturned.”

“We shouldn’t leave any page unturned either!” She cried, determined.

Mal, defeated, spoke “If you must, then go. Books and I have never been friends, and I’d be a burden there.”

“B-but we do everything together!”

“When Brienne was here, maybe. But she is not here, and without her…”

Nia nodded bitterly, then declared “I do hope your reasonings are enough not to break her heart when she hears of this.”

Mal looked away. Tyril flinched, like he had been punched in the heart. Perhaps she wasn’t the only one who had been charmed by Brienne after all.

“Especially you, Tyril. I hope not being there when she returns is worth all those stones turned.”

Then, she turned away and left.

On the ninth month, a soft knock woke Nia from her prayers. Adjusting her sleeping robe, she opened the door to a devastated but determined Mal.

“May I come in?”

“I’d never turn down a friend. Come. Do you want something? Tea? Pastries?”

“My stomach’s closed, but thank you.”

He sat at her chair, and she in the edge of her bed. Nia looked up and broke the silence “What brings you here? Where is Tyril?”

“Elf boy and I quarreled nonstop when you left. Couldn’t agree on anything. He left for Undermount, and I…”

“Gave up on her too.”

“Came to honor her memory. She may be alive, but I don’t think she’ll be back. And… I’m tired of being useless. I want to do something with my life than chase empty quests and even emptier coins. Brienne would want me to have a legacy on my own, even if she may never see it.”

Craving to talk of her, she leaned towards him and asked “And what legacy is that she’d want you to pursue?”

That night, a dream and a new hope was born.

Even if Mal spoke of her as if she’d died, Nia knew that Brienne was fighting with all of her might to come back home. To her arms. To their bed. To the future they had whispered to one another beneath the covers.

The moment her errands with Mal were done, she strid towards the room and raised her chin to the robed woman before her “I have thought about your offer. It’d be my honor to accept being the new High Priestess.”

She’d make the world a better place when Brienne came back. Because she would. Because that was Brienne. And because she knew the Gods were not done with her yet. Because they were meant to be each other’s faith. And they would. Because her Brienne lived.

[harleybeaumont]

Never Have I Ever

Chapter 11 - Demons From the Past - Part 2

Book- TRR

Series- Never Have I Ever

Pairings- Bertrand x MC 

Chapter Synopsis- Bertrand relives his past through nightmares.

Chapter Warnings- language, physical and emotional abuse, child abuse, violence, death

Rating - Mature

Word Count- 3,000

A/N- This chapter is pretty heavy as we get a glimpse into Bertrand and Maxwell's past family trauma. Please see warnings above.

————————————————————

..He turned on the TV in an attempt to drown out his intrusive thoughts regarding a certain woman who was sleeping a mere two doors away, and eventually drifted off into a restless sleep…

Chapter 11 - Demons From the Past - Part 2

Bertrand cowered on the floor of his playroom, looking up into the disdainful eyes of his father. The crystal squid statue in the foyer was in hundreds of pieces, and his father would ensure he’d never see the light of day again. The older man shook his head at his son, “What did I tell you boys about playing your infantile games in the house?! You’re nine years old now, Bertrand! Grow up!”

Bertrand apologized but his father yelled over him. “Enough! Where is Maxwell? I know he had a hand in this as well!” Bertrand didn’t dare to reveal his younger brother’s hiding place. As soon as Max had accidentally knocked down the statue, Bertrand sent him into the greenhouse to hide. 

“He didn’t have anything to do with this.. it was all me. I’m sorry father, it was an accident.” 

Barthelemy grabbed Bertrand’s arm and jerked him up roughly. “You are going to learn, son. All accidents come with a price.”

Bertrand was transported three years into the future, to the night after his mother died. With his arms wrapped around a sobbing Maxwell, he tried to keep a stiff upper lip. He needed to be strong despite the gaping hole in his heart. He had to be there for his brother, because now they had no one else.

Berthelemy staggered into the boy's bedroom, holding a nearly empty tumbler of scotch. “Quit your blubbering, it won’t bring her back,” he slurred as he glared at Maxwell. 

Bertrand immediately stood and walked past his father and out of the bedroom. There was only one way to stop Barthelemy when he started his drunken rants.

“You need to suck it up, Maxwell.. You’re a Beaumont for God's sake! I swear, I don’t know how I ended up with the world's biggest pussies for sons. Although I suppose your mother is to blame for that. It's a good thing she's-” 

Crash!

Barthelemy whirled around and saw a shattered bottle of scotch at his feet, amber liquid and glass covering the surrounding tile. Bertrand’s heart hammered in his chest as his father’s ire turned to him. Rage filled the older man’s eyes and Bertrand ran, knowing he would be close behind. 

“You son of a bitch, get back here!” Barthelemy yelled, running as fast as he could in his inebriated state. Once Bertrand had gotten far enough away from Maxwell’s bedroom, he stopped and faced his father. There was no use running, and there was nowhere he could hide. Barthelemy cocked his fist and all Bertrand could do was close his eyes tightly, thankful that it was him instead of Maxwell.

Four years later, sixteen year old Bertrand sat behind the wheel of his father’s Aston Martin, massaging his sore neck. The driver behind him swore she had put on her brakes, but the enormous dent in his bumper suggested otherwise. Bertrand only hoped that his father would be more forgiving if he found out about the accident in front of the police. Barthelemy pulled up to the scene in his black Rolls-Royce ten minutes later. “Oh, my son.. Are you alright?” he asked with what sounded like genuine concern. 

“Yes, sir.” Bertrand nodded and Barthelemy spoke politely to the police officers before returning to his son’s side. 

“Get your ass in the car,” he muttered under his breath and Bertrand obeyed immediately. Once the scene had been cleared and his father’s wrecked car was towed away, Barthelemy slid into the driver's seat. “I let you take my car, and you decided to go joyriding.” 

Bertrand shook his head, “No sir, I just wanted to get some extra practice! The driver behind me ran into me, it wasn’t my fault!” 

Berthelemy slammed his palm against the dash and Bertrand jumped, “A real man takes responsibility for his actions!” 

Bertrand looked down, not daring to say another word. The engine roared to life and Barthelemy took off like a shot. “Were you racing some other punk when you crashed my two hundred and fifty thousand pound car?”

“No sir! I wouldn’t-” 

His father cut him off with a forced laugh, “You think you’re an adult, is that it? You can do whatever you want? Well, go ahead and take the wheel, son.”

“What?!” 

Bertrand watched in horror as his father let go of the steering wheel while the car continued down the road at an alarming speed. “Go on then.. Take the wheel, Bertrand. Show me how it’s done.” 

Bertrand looked between his father and the road as the car began to drift toward the shoulder. “What are you doing?! I swear I didn’t mean to wreck the car!” 

Barthelemy casually put his arms behind his head and pushed the gas pedal down harder. “Come on, Bertrand. I said, show me how it’s done.” 

The car shook as it drifted onto the shoulder, gravel spraying wildly behind it. They were running out of straight road, and fast. Bertrand’s heart was hammering in his chest. Was his father really about to let them crash and die to teach him a lesson? A turn was fast approaching and Bertrand grabbed the steering wheel, preparing to save their lives. 

Barthelemy slammed on the brakes and the car skidded to a stop, fishtailing slightly as it did so. “You arrogant motherfucker!” Barthelemy yelled at his teenage son. “Thought you’d just take over my car, didn't you?!” He threw the car in park and rushed around to the passenger door, yanking it open and pulling Bertrand out. He tossed his son to the ground and landed a sharp kick against his ribs. “You can walk home since you're such a big man now!” 

Bertrand coughed and held his aching side, calling out after his father who was making his way back to the driver side. “Please.. It’s almost dark out. I don’t even know where we are!” 

Once Barthelemy was back inside, he locked the car doors and cracked the window slightly. “Guess we’ll see how long it takes you to figure it out.” 

Bertrand lunged for the passenger door, but as soon as his fingers grasped the handle, his father sped away, leaving his son laying on the ground in a cloud of dust.

The image melted away, revealing one of Bertrand’s worst memories ever.. years later at his college graduation. His father and Maxwell sat three rows back, smiling at him while he received his diploma on stage and gave a speech. He had graduated at the top of his class and been named valedictorian. Initially Bertrand wasn't even sure if he would be able to attend college, since there was no way he could leave Maxwell alone with his father while he wasn’t there to protect him. Thankfully it hadn't been too difficult to convince Barthelemy to send Maxwell away to year round boarding school. And Bertrand’s college graduation coincided with Maxwell’s high school graduation, so everything worked out. After the ceremony, Bertrand went searching for his brother, who had slipped away with a friend. 

A minute later, he noticed Maxwell’s friend running full steam out of a hallway. Bertrand headed in that direction and heard the unmistakable sound of his father ranting. 

“Smoking pot at your brother’s graduation?! Are you fucking insane?! Do you know how many important people are here?!” Barthelemy berated Maxwell from a room at the end of the hall. “God, it’s no wonder your grades were so piss poor! You know you wouldn’t even have made it through high school if I hadn’t paid them off!” 

Bertrand hurried toward the scene before his father could do any more harm to his younger brother. 

He was too late. Bertrand heard the telltale smack of his father’s hand connecting with Maxwell’s cheek.  

“Dad, I’m sorry! It was just one time!” Max cried, before another slap rang out. 

“Don’t lie to me, boy!” Another slap. 

Bertrand broke out in a run and found them in a janitor's supply closet. His father was dragging Maxwell toward the door by his shirt collar. 

“Father, please,” Bertrand tried to reason with him. “He made a mistake. He’s just a kid!”

“This is none of your business, Bertrand. Get the hell out of here!” Barthelemy shoved Bertrand backwards and he landed on the linoleum floor in the hallway. Barthelemy slammed the supply room door shut with himself and Maxwell inside, locking it with a click.

Bertrand banged on the heavy wooden door, pleading with his father to stop the assault. He threw his shoulder into it several times in an attempt to break it down to no avail.

“You are going to learn not to disgrace our name again!” His father yelled at Maxwell, and a loud crash immediately followed. 

“Stop!” Bertrand cried out, watching through the narrow window with tear filled eyes. “Stop, god dammit!” The door wouldn’t budge no matter how many times he threw his body into it. He pounded on the door in frustration, helpless tears streaming down his cheeks. “I'm sorry, Maxwell.. I’m so sorry.”

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t protect him. 

The image before him swirled and transformed and suddenly, instead of Maxwell cowering on the floor, it was Riley. His father struck her across the cheek and she screamed. 

“No!” Bertrand called out, his heart pounding as he threw his entire body into the wooden door, desperately trying to get to her. Yet his father continued, no matter how much he screamed and begged him to stop. With no other options, Bertrand decided to run for help, but found his feet were suddenly impossibly heavy, and his legs frozen in place. There was nothing he could do.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t protect her. 

He swiped away his tears and suddenly it wasn’t his father in the room with Riley- it was Tariq. Bertrand watched in horror as Tariq pulled Riley to him, kissing her forcefully while she squirmed, trying to get away. Bertrand yelled and pounded on the door until his knuckles bled. “Let go of her!” 

Tariq turned back toward Bertrand with a smirk before returning his attention to Riley’s now naked body. 

“I'm so sorry Riley!” Bertrand yelled through his sobs, watching her struggle. She needed help. She needed him.

And he couldn’t protect her.

Bertrand gasped as he was thrust back into wakefulness. He was drenched in sweat, his heart was pounding, his chest hurt, his stomach was in knots, and tears dampened his cheeks.. Yet his body was surrounded by the most amazing warmth and feeling of security. Once he got his barings, he realized that he was in Riley’s room, laying in her bed with his head in her lap. She was rubbing her hand across his back soothingly, whispering something comforting that he couldn’t make out. 

He sat up quickly and saw Maxwell was asleep in a chair across from the bed. The faint orange glow of sunrise shone through a crack in the curtain, slightly illuminating the dark room. Panic began to set in when he realized what must have happened. “How did I get in here?” he asked hesitantly.

“Hey, hey..” Riley whispered, taking hold of his arm and pulling him back down beside her on the bed. “It’s ok, Bert, don’t worry about it.” She wrapped her arms tightly around him and pulled him close to her body again. “I’ve got you. You’re ok.”

Despite the embarrassment at what Riley had possibly witnessed, he was so relieved that she was safe. The fresh memory of his horrible nightmares came rushing back to him and he returned her embrace, letting himself be held and comforted. 

She whispered, “I’ve got you.” The feeling of her fingernails gliding across his back and the steady sound of her heartbeat as he lay his head against her chest, instantly set him at peace. She kissed the top of his head, and used the sleeve of her hoodie to dry his face. 

“Riley?” He asked, breathing in her comforting scent while she continued to caress his back soothingly.

“Yes?” Her hand stilled briefly and she leaned forward to look down at him.

“Did.. Did Maxwell tell you about.. this?”

She sighed and hugged him tightly against her body. “Ya.. a little.”

Three hours prior..

An insistent knocking at her bedroom door woke Riley with a start. 3:00 am. Throwing open the door in panic, she found Bertrand standing in the darkened hallway outside of her bedroom, swaying slightly. “Bertrand!? Are you ok?”

He just stood there trembling with his arms wrapped around himself.

“Bert?”

Suddenly he choked out a sob and reached out to hold her tightly. “Oh!” Riley gasped in surprise. 

His body shook as he sobbed against her. “I’m so sorry, Riley.. I’m so sorry,” he mumbled over and over, and although she was baffled, she immediately returned his embrace.

Riley was speechless as she helped him make his way over to her bed. She turned on a lamp and his eyes fluttered shut but when he opened them again, it was as if he was looking straight through her. Realization washed over her and she helped him sit beside her. 

“Oh, Bert.” 

He rested his head against her shoulder and she wrapped one arm around him, using her other hand to dial Max.

“Damn it.” Max frowned as he entered her room, taking in the sight before him. “I should have known this would happen.”

“He’s sleepwalking, right?” Riley whispered, her arm still protectively wrapped around Bertrand.

“Ya.” 

“I’ve never seen him do this in all the months I’ve been here.. Why did you say you should have known it would happen?”

Maxwell sighed sadly, “It’s kind of a long story.”

“Tell me.. please?” Riley asked. 

Bertrand had settled into what appeared to be a restful sleep, and Max helped him lay down on Riley’s bed. He put a comforting hand on his older brother's shoulder while he spoke quietly. “So.. growing up, our dad was always a real dick. Like a really, really shitty person. Bertrand spent his life trying to protect me from him.. Which means he got the brunt of dads wrath most of the time.”

“Oh God.” Riley’s eyes widened and her hand flew to her mouth, “Did he.. I mean.. hit you both?”

“Emotional and physical abuse were his forte but he was also a textbook narcissist. He never shied away from telling and showing us how disappointed he was in us. Seems fucked up to say, but I’m thankful dad’s in a coma. The only thing better would have been if he actually died. Me and Bert have seen some of the best therapists around and it’s helped a lot, but.. he fucked Bertrand up really bad. It’s taken him years to stop having nightmares every night. Now it just happens when he gets really stressed out, which is almost always right before the court comes for the Bash.”

Riley’s heart ached for both of them, but especially for the grown man who always prided himself on being the stoic leader of House Beaumont, whose body was once again starting to shake from quiet sobs. 

“I don’t know what to say.. I’m so sorry.”

She placed her hand over Maxwell’s, which was still resting on Bertrand’s back. “Thanks,” Max replied with a sad smile.

“Does he remember this when he wakes up in the morning?”

“He does, mostly.” Maxwell nodded. “Although he never wants to talk about it. He usually sleepwalks to my room in tears, and apologizes over and over because he feels like he didn’t protect me enough. It’s also the only time he ever says he loves me. I blame dad for that too.” Max rolled his eyes, “Affection is a sign of weakness according to dear old dad.” He shook his head sadly, “So anyway, when this happens I just put Bertrand in the bed with me and hug him so he knows he’s ok and I’m ok, and he's not alone.”

Riley’s eyes welled up with tears, and she tried to discreetly wipe them away. “Max.. why do you think he came to my room tonight instead of yours?”

“Why do you think?” Max patted her hand sadly, and Riley swallowed down the lump in her throat as more tears fell from her eyes. "You can go sleep in my room tonight, Ri. I’ll take care of him.”

“No,” she swallowed hard while she looked at Bertrand curled up in her bed. “I want to stay with him.”

“Are you sure?”

Riley nodded, “Absolutely.”

“Ok,” Max dropped into a chair across the room, “but I’ll stay too, in case he gets really upset again.”

Riley lay on the pillows next to Bertrand and wrapped her arms around him. “I’ve got you, baby,” she whispered and rubbed his back soothingly until his breathing became rhythmic and calm. After about thirty minutes Maxwell drifted off to sleep but Riley remained awake, occasionally murmuring words of comfort.

Present..

Bertrand cringed in humiliation, knowing that Riley had to witness him in such a pathetic state. It was bad enough when he woke up in Maxwell's room after he had these nightmares, curled up against him like a helpless child. Riley would probably never talk to him again after this. 

“I am so sorry. I’ve inconvenienced you terribly,” Bertrand apologized, and sat up. “I.. I need to go.”

“Wait,” She took his arm to keep him from leaving. “You didn’t inconvenience me. Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No.” That was the last thing he wanted to do. What he really wanted to do was fall into a hole forever.

“Are you sure? Talking can help sometimes, and I’m worried about you.”

“No, I’m fine,” his reply was more harsh than he intended. “Sorry, but I’d really rather just forget this ever happened.”

“You know you don’t always have to shoulder everything alone.”

Bertrand closed his eyes for a moment. “Yes. I do.”

[lorirwritesfanfic]

Tag game

Thank you so much for tagging me @lizzybeth1986 😘

Currently Reading: The Age Of Empire by Eric Hobsbawm. History is my current obsession. Choiceswise, I think it was Crimes of Passion 1 or Queen B 2... It was a while ago... I don't know for sure which one was the last one.

Favourite Colour: Purple

Last Song:

Last Movie: A documentary about the events that led to a coup d'etat attempt in Venezuela during 2002 called Chavéz: The Revolution Will Not Be Televised. Like I said before, History is my current obsession.

Sweet/Spicy/Savoury: Sweet. I like savoury and spicy too (despite my little tolerance to spicy food 😅), but sugar is my addiction.

Currently Working On: Does daydreaming about it qualify as "working on"? Real life has been so time consuming lately that it took me four days to finish watching my last movie watched 😅 I do have many ideas for Hayden Young Appreciation Week, some half written WIPs for my Bloodbound series, Desire & Decorum AUs, TRR series and one shots, TWC one shots and a very messy sketch of a certain Choices character I miss dearly, but I don't know when I'll post them. (The sketch might never be posted though 🫣)

Tagging: @havenroyals @lilyoffandoms @princess-geek @andthatisnotfake and anyone who feels like doing this.

[sciralta]

Sometimes I theorize that a big motive for PB pointlessly genderlocking certain books is because they're too coward to make sexy revealing outfits for m!MCs. Like, forgive me if I sound like I'm reachng here, but I think it's pretty damn telling that of all the books where MC can wear lingerie/sexy underwear, only 3 of them are GOC while there are about 10+ that are GL.

Then again, I'm not sure I can trust PB to actually make good-looking underwear for m!MCs (or m!LIs for that matter). Look at the shit that AME m!MC, TPA m!MC, m!Sam, OH m!MC, m!Reagan, and the male TRR LIs got for "sexy underwear"– and, heck, even the default underwears that most m!MCs and m!LIs get– and tell me PB isn't just lazy as all fuck when designing for male/masc characters.

I mean… it’s a very funny tinfoil hat theory that’s obviously not the reason but it’s real fun to act like it could be.

My thing is: I genuinely do not know whether the reason the male fashion—in particular the sexy fashion—is lame as is because PB are lazy and just phone it in, or because they genuinely just have bad taste and don’t know what’s sexy. I mean, it’s probably both, but the fact that we haven’t seen a single speedo or sexy jockstrap outfit just proves to me that we have people who have no idea what they’re doing in charge of this.

What I’m saying is that they need to hire a gay to oversee the men’s clothing, stat, and if there already is a gay overseeing than they need to hire one who’s actually cool with taste. Like, Jesus Christ, get the opinion of someone who’s been to a leather bar or seen gogo boys at least once in their life. We can’t keep living like this.

[annaroselyn]

How long have you been played RC btw? And did you left Choices fandom or...? Oh my, I'm sorry if I am beeing too curious right now. Forgive me. I just realized old Choices players often play RC right now. Well, I'm one of them now too 👀

I started playing RC in November of 2019. I remember because I was looking for something to do while on a Thanksgiving trip with my family. I read the first two seasons of Queen in 30 days, a book I love but never recommend but it is very odd. I started playing Choices in early 2018, with TRR of course. I still read Choices but the books I like have been few and far between lately. I am not currently reading any new books at the moment. I am excited for the CoP, TCH and Blades sequels.

[deb-1106]

@petiteboheme My OTP do almost NOTHING that follows canon. 😂 After book 2 of TRR, Canon got very annoying, and I used it more as a timeline than anything else. In my stories, Liam presents Drake and Ava the Valtoria duchy as a wedding gift. It's not given to Ava, because I found that totally weird and cringy. Bestowing it upon his closest friend and his new bride (who rejected his advances at every turn) as a gesture of goodwill and forgiveness makes much more sense to me. As for TRH...I don't even follow that as a timeline. 😏 After the honeymoon on Liam's private island ...that story is dead to me. 😂

MC Madness

MC Madness

MC Madness

Okay, so I know that I’ve missed every deadline. 🙈  But the thing is…I started all of them!!!  LOL  I just have terrible follow-through.

So I combined weeks 2 and 3 (party prep and party time) into one mood board to try and get back on track.  I apologize profusely to @choicesmcmadness for completely flouting the rules, but here we are. 😋

I’m tagging my current tag list. ❤

@ao719 @burnsoslow @sincerelyella @charlotteg234 @thirsty-flygirl​ @mskaneko​ @choiceswreckedme @walkerismychoice @txemrn @twinkleallnight @imashybish @blackcatkita @katedrakeohd @boneandfur @sfb123 @queenrileyrose @foreverethereal123 @kingliam2019 @nestledonthaveone @bebepac @petiteboheme @princess-geek @indiana-jr @nikkis1983 @yukinagato2012 @tessa-liam @marshmallowsandfire @twinkleallnight @tinkie1973 @mom2000aggie @walkerdrakewalker @alyshak92 @emkay512 @karahalloway

  RSVP

Who will be coming? 

Duchess Ava Matheson Walker

Where are they coming from? 

Ava is my MC from The Royal Romance series (and the Royal Heir, although I’d rather forget that travesty.🤮)

Are they going to be bringing a date to the party? 

Ava will be accompanied by her husband Drake Walker, The Duke of Valtoria.

Keep reading

[msjr0119]

Forgive me

Part 9

A mini series, includes suicide and abuse.

Based on true events but using TRR characters who are owned by Pixelberry.

@annekebbphotography @burnsoslow @drakesensworld @ladyangel70 @kingliam2019 @bbrandy2002 @butindeed @bascmve01 @drakewalker04 @pedudley @captain-kingliamsqueen @duchessemersynwalker @insideamirage @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @kozabaji @texaskitten30 @ibldw-main @kimmiedoo5 @nikkis1983 @dangerouseggseagleartisan @gnatbrain @walker7519 @lodberg @cmestrella @hopefulmoonobject @addictedtodrakefanfic @angi15h @liamxs-world @rafasgirl23415 @notoriouscs @yukinagato2012 @dcbbw @qammh-blog @nz1091 @beardedoafdonutwagon @cordonianroyalty @custaroonie @lauradowning29

A shorter chapter compared to others...

******

Anton paced up and down, wondering what excuse he could use for being in Cordonia. He had to think tactfully- a way to brainwash Riley into thinking he was infact Justin. Frustrated that she rejected him back in New York two years ago, he had every intention of making her the rightful Queen in Cordonia alongside of him. Falling instantly in love with her after unexpectedly meeting her, he became obsessive- stalking her. That was until she became pregnant with Cordonia’s heir- a spanner in the works. Luckily Leo didn’t have a clue about his true identity when they met.

*****

Riley was grateful for her friends helping her out with Lucas, so she could see to Liam. Walking into the room, the nurses were removing the gauze from Liam’s eyes and inspecting them.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes.” Placing a kiss on his lips, she noticed at how much he had improved.

“How are you feeling?”

“Much better now I can see you. I’ve missed your beautiful face. Where’s Lucas?”

“Max and Drake were arguing over who was the best uncle. In the end they both took him out. I’ll have to rescue him from them soon. Have they said when you’ll be discharged?”

“Well technically I’m the best uncle as I’m blood. Remind them that next time. No not yet.”

“That is true. Take this time to rest, not worrying about what is going off. Kiara is fine. She’s shaken up. But is grateful for you saving her life.”

“I’d do it for anyone in my court. As much as I was missing you two I’m just glad you weren’t there- I don’t know what id do without you both.” Holding his hand, she didn’t know what her future held- sure he said yesterday that he wanted to make her his princess but she believed it wasn’t true words.

“Neither myself or Lucas are leaving you. You’re our family. I better go and rescue tweedle Dee and tweedle dumb. I love you Liam.”

“I love you too Riley.”

*****

Riley arrived at the palace, she avoided walking by the ballroom. Even though she wasn’t present at the time of the attack- she had images in her mind of what happened. Walking to the courtyard, she saw Lucas between the two men. They were still arguing about who the best uncle was.

“Can’t believe you two. And technically Liam is the best uncle- argument over. Those were his words not mine.” Picking Lucas up, he held her tightly- feeling like a rubbish Mom abandoning him, she wanted to spend the rest of the day just the two of them.

“How’s Liam? King Constantine is wanting to see you by the way. He needs to introduce you to someone.”

“He’s looking better- they removed the gauze and patches. Oh. Do you know where he will be?”

“Most likely his study. We will go and visit Liam now then. By the way, how can he be uncle and father at the same time Riley?” Maxwell winked as he left with Drake, the fact that he stated was true. Most people would think it was an odd relationship to have- keeping it in the family.

******

Arriving at the study she hoped he wouldn’t keep her long. Knocking on the door, she was nervous- they hadn’t exactly had the perfect relationship.

“Riley, Lucas. I’m thrilled that you are both back.” Eying him suspiciously, she didn’t understand his new sincere attitude since Leo’s passing.

“Your majesty.” She curtsied, even with the struggle of holding a one year old.

“There’s someone I’d like you to meet. Ever since the attack, I need you both to be safe. Bastien has organised a personal guard, Mara who you will meet within a few days. But there is also someone else, due to Leo’s passing and you have caught the presses attention and they have been asking constant questions. I’ve hired a personal public relation officer, if we need him for any reason. Riley, this is Justin.”

“Hello again, Riley.”

“J-Justin?” The colour drained from her face. The man who became obsessed with her, showing no interest in him at all- she rejected all his efforts to take her on a date. Using the marriage card.

“Do you two already know each other?” Constantine asked, not thinking anything bad of it.

“Yes, we met in New York a couple of years ago.”

Riley stay calm but get out now! You’re not safe.

“If that is all, I’ll leave you alone your Majesty, Justin.” Justin grabbed her wrist as she turned around to leave, attempting to keep calm even though she was beginning to panic about Justin’s motives.

“I’m so sorry to hear about Leo. It is such a great loss. When I met him on those few occasions, he was a gentleman.”

“Yes he was. We all love him. I really should get going.” Exiting the room, Justin followed her.

“Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

“Can you leave me alone please.”

“You lost one prince, have you moved on with Liam? Why did you reject me? I would have given you everything.”

“Because I wasn’t interested Justin. I was Leo’s wife whether or not it was fake.”

“Is it because I’m not a prince?”

“Justin please let me go. I’m not interested.”

“If anything happens to Liam, I’ll still be here Riley.” Riley nodded, trying to stay calm. Needing Leo to elaborate on what he meant by her not being safe. Justin walked away smirking.

******

Drake and Maxwell entered Liam’s room, smirking at him.

“You did all this to get a rest Li?”

“Of course I did Drake. Your jokes get better everyday.” The friends all laughed together.

“So, what’s going on with you and Riley?” Maxwell asked intrigued for some positive court gossip.

“I love her. She says she loves me. I know what I want but I’m not sure if she will want it?”

“What do you mean? Her moving here?”

“Yes. And....” Liam blushed, avoiding his friend’s gaze.

“And?” They both said in unison, looking at the love struck prince.

“And I think... no I know... I want to marry her. Make us a family, I know Lucas will never be mine but I’ll protect them both and love them both for the rest of my life.”

“Beaumont, pay up now.” Liam looked bewildered at the pair- Maxwell exchanging money whilst shaking his head.

“Drake had a bet that you’d make her our future Queen.”

“She hasn’t said yes. I haven’t even asked her. It’s probably too soon.”

“She will say, yes. If not, I’ll not have any whiskey for a year.”

“Now that id like to witness.” Liam laughed, knowing full well that he would never go cold turkey. The friends sat and talked for a while, mainly talking about Riley. Wondering what type of future Queen she would be. Both men were truly happy for Liam, neither had seen him so smitten before. Both hoping that they could live happily together with no more drama.

*****

Hiding in Liam’s quarters, Riley felt nervous- paranoid that her stalker had somehow crept back into her life.

“Leo, why are we in danger. Please. I need you know to show me a sign or speak to me again.” A cold breeze went past her. Closing her eyes, she didn’t want to open them.

Ri, Justin isn’t who he says he is. The day I died- it wasn’t suicide. They forced me to write the letter... they wouldn’t allow me to ring you to say goodbye. They drugged me. Careful to not mark my body- they planned everything. They left me- I struggled, hoping I’d be able to escape the noose. Justin planned the attack. He’s trying to kill all the royal family to take over the throne. Take a leaf out of Olivia Nevrakis’s book- carry a dagger at all times. You can outsmart him, together. Inform Liam, Maxwell and Drake. Together you can all kill him if you act careful. Don’t put yourself or Lucas in any danger. Please forgive me for not being able to stop any of this.

[destroy-the-cannon]

Brief TRR Thought Dump

Ok. So I know by now we’ve all seen the royal finale announcement, coming out THIS JULY, but can we talk about it for a sec???

I cannot be the only one having mixed feelings on this. Because yes, the royal heir has been kind of a hot mess. So much so that I never even finished the first book!! (having my mc be pregnant was just too weird for me) And I’m sure we can all agree that the time is definitely here for the series to end. But do y’all remember that first book? The one that came out YEARS ago? Can we take a second to think about that?

That series was the second one I ever read on choices. It’s what started this blog, it’s how I discovered the fandom. Those characters, their relationships and interactions, meant so much to me. Even if I dropped off them for awhile, going back through my old posts and reblogs reminds me how much I still love them, and what a source of comfort those books were to me. And I know we’re all kind of celebrating the end, because it really is about time, but can we also take a second to mourn?? It’s really all over. And I’m going to miss it. Olivia. Maxwell. Hana. THE BLOODY CORGI(S). These books were a choices staple. A constant, for so long. And it’s actually coming to an end.

[cordonian-literature]

Forever Mine

chapter two

❦ summary — The time for Princess Riley to step into her role as queen fast approaches and finding the future king is Cordonia’s top priority. Commander Liam is aware of that, and has plans to make sure the princess ends up with someone suitable.

➺ chapter warnings: none

❦ catch up here!

➺ word count: (+/-) 1640

*all characters belong to Pixelberry, except those unique to my story*

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

Liam constantly glances at the pink box throughout the night, and it is the first thing he looks at the next morning — his neck stiff from the odd angle he had slept in. 

Once he’s rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, the Commander sighs at the pile of unfinished reports. After getting up and taking a look at the time, he knows that he’ll have to skip the Derby. The tight grip he has on his pen makes his knuckles white. 

On the other side of his door, a servant stands ready to give him coffee. The young man hesitates to knock, and his hands shake while he pours the Commander his drink. Noticing the intense look in Liam’s eyes as he stares down at his papers, the servant rushes to finish pouring the coffee and walk out of the room, convinced that the worst thing that could happen to him was that man’s gaze falling upon him. 

No kind comment from the princess would change the palace staff’s opinion of the Commander; everyone knew that he was a man one must only have limited contact with. 

…

As the limo begins to slow, anticipation and dread creep into Riley’s stomach. She moves her hand over her skirt to straighten any wrinkles and prayed the paparazzi won’t have anything negative to say about what she’s wearing or how she looks.

Olivia had told her that she looked modest and respectable, and Riley could only hope that everyone else will think so, too.

Keeping her knees together, Riley swings out of the vehicle, plastering a practiced smile on her face. She tries to continue towards the tents, but reporters block her path. This was the part Riley hated most. She struggled not to squint at the camera flashes aimed directly at her eyes. She didn’t know the answer to any of the questions the reporters were asking her. 

The anxiety suffocates her. A whimper escapes her lips, but is drowned out by the noise around her. Olivia notices and gives Riley’s hand a gentle squeeze as security makes them back off. 

While passing through the crowd, Riley keeps her eyes peeled for her father. If Constantine wasn’t here, then that means that Liam most likely wasn’t either. Disappointment floods through her; Riley had wanted to continue her conversation with the Commander from last night. Not only that, he knows how to easily douse her anxiety: something she desperately needs now.

But she doesn’t have a chance to think much about him: Leo and Drake step in front of Princess Riley, asking why she’s late. 

“The race is about to start any second,” Leo states, gently grabbing Riley’s arm. 

“Then what are you two doing out here?” she asks playfully. Pulling her brother and Drake into the tent. 

“Actually,” Drake slides out of her grasp. “I’ll find you guys when it’s time for the picnic.” 

The three of them stop in their tracks. Olivia scoffs. “Where are you going?” 

“Gonna go wait in the stands,” Drake lies. 

“For who?” Leo questions. “You always watch the races with us.” 

“Yeah, but—”

“No but’s!” the princess cries. Riley practically pushes Drake into the tent, ignoring his protests. 

A shot rings out, signaling the start of the races. The distant thunder of horses running vibrates throughout the air. Leaving her friends near the entrance of their tent, Riley makes her way towards the railing to catch a glimpse of the animals as they pass by. 

Drake watches her childish excitement, slightly amused at the way she frowns when her favorite horse slows down and Olivia’s speeds up. Riley yells supportive phrases to the horse, which it can’t hear or comprehend. Leo keeps an eye on his friend, about to ask Drake why he didn’t want to watch the races with them, and notices the way Drake’s features soften while looking at the princess. 

Leo doesn’t break Drake out of his trance, and instead watches as the man walks up to Riley and laughs when Olivia complains about her horse slowing down again. The more Riley laughed, the wider Drake’s smile became.

Noticing this sends an itch onto the back of Leo’s neck, but it’s not as bothersome as the one from the night before. Seeing Drake lean close to Riley as she laughs at her friends wasn’t as irritating as watching Liam do the same thing. 

A feeling of pity rushes through Leo: he understood his friend’s feelings. He supported them, too. Drake’s side was one of the few places where Leo trusted his sister to be safe. 

But in a few months, Riley would have to choose the man she was going to marry, and none of the options were Drake. As much as Leo wants to help his friend, he internally curses at the idiot for keeping his feelings hidden for so long. 

"Because anyone could see that she’s been losing the last few races,” Drake says to Olivia, breaking Leo away from his thoughts. 

“So the years Estella spent with a flawless record mean nothing?” Olivia throws back, talking about the horse. “Of course you would be the one to think you know everything about horses.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Drake questions as Riley links her arms with his and Olivia’s and leads them out of the tent while they argue. “All I’m saying is that the horse lost. They need to stop letting her race.” 

“As long as she keeps fighting, she hasn’t lost.” 

“How does that—” Drake tries to start, but Riley ushers them into the limo and stops her friends from continuing their banter. 

... 

The gentle wind of the afternoon and the light song of birds on the path towards the picnic almost made Liam forget about the two soldiers following close behind. They were asking for an increased number of troops to be sent out. Liam was too distracted thinking about his darling to come up with the right number, so he told the two that he would give them answers when he returns to the palace. 

They salute and walk away. Once Liam nears the main party, he takes a moment to survey the guests and analyze what they were doing. When something bumps into his left side, he doesn’t even notice until a delicate voice rings out, “My apologies!” 

Before Liam even turns his head, he notices that the apologetic person has grabbed some guests’ attention, who turn away and snicker when they see the fallen person. Liam moves to aid the woman. 

He reaches his hand out to her and assists her in standing up. The woman’s long dark hair and small figure vibrate through Liam’s memory, and he realizes that he stands in front of the infamous Hana Lee. He hadn’t heard much about her reputation, but he knew just enough from the guests’ giggles as they stared at her. 

“No worries, Lady Lee,” Liam says to her, bringing her soft hand up to brush against his lips. He feels her hand twitch slightly, perhaps in nervousness, but when Liam lifts his head to meet her eyes, Hana’s expression yields nothing.

Liam tries to continue the conversation. “I hope you enjoyed the Derby.” 

“It was lovely,” Hana manages in a shaky voice, eyes darting towards a group of laughing ladies. 

Liam leans closer to her. “Try your best to ignore it. Letting them get under your skin is letting them win. Show them that you’re unfazed by it.” 

When Liam leans back, Hana’s eyes are wide, but her shoulders are a bit straighter. Unfortunately they tense up once more when another woman’s voice calls her name. 

“There you are, dear!” she says, putting her hand on Hana’s shoulder. Lorelai Lee, Liam realizes. In a low voice, one that Liam knows he’s not meant to hear, Lorelai continues, “I told you not to walk off alone, there was a gentleman waiting to be introduced to you... Did you introduce yourself to the Commander?” She turns back to Liam and exchanges a respectful greeting, allowing him to kiss her hand. 

In the middle of the conversation, Duke Landon approaches Liam. 

“Ladies.” He nods his head. 

“Duke Landon.” Lorelai repeats the action, then turns to Liam, a wide but stiff smile on her face. “We won’t keep you occupied any longer, Commander. I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening.” 

“Likewise,�� Liam returns, giving Hana Lee a smirk as she turns away with her mother, allowing him to catch a slight blush that appears on her face. 

How... easy, Liam thinks to himself, toning out Landon’s ideas for the upcoming meeting with the king. Respectfully he allows the Duke to finish talking before walking on, keeping his eyes peeled for the princess. 

Exchanging nods with members of the nobility were tiring. He held everyone’s respect, but not many people held his. 

Finally, Leo’s blond head and deep laugh come into Liam’s view. The prince watches his sister play croquet with Lord Maxwell. Liam makes his way to the side of the picnic sight, where tables filled with pastries wait to be eaten. 

He pretends to examine the sweets, but as he brings some bread to his mouth, he watches as one of the balls Maxwell hits goes flying into a bush. Liam watches as the princess and Maxwell lean close to each other and laugh. 

After containing her laughter as best she can, Riley lifts her head to look around if anyone saw Maxwell’s mistake. Thankfully, she only comes into contact with Liam’s soft gaze. She waves at him, and he walks over. 

And while they talk, neither of them notice as Leo’s expression turns sour. When Liam says he must leave early, neither of them notice how Leo’s face relaxes — but Leo watches both their eyes express an intimate sadness, one that Maxwell jokingly shares.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

please let me know if you would like to be added/removed from the tags :) 

@twinkleallnight @gkittylove99 @sweatyrysconnoisseur @kingliam2019 @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @queenrileyrose @royalromancer @princess-geek @mom2000aggie @hopefulmoonobject @zoehanji​ 

[runtheduels]

tag yourself, trr edition

[sunandlemonsandtrh]

FORGIVE ME WHILE I-🤧♥️♥️

[rosesnink]

Red Threads of Fate (That Bind Us Together), Arc I- Black Thorne, White Rose (Pt. 1)

Author's Notes

Je suis back!! After months of not touching this series due to rl craziness, I'm back with COP stuff babey!! This arc will be an interesting one, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. That being said, read the warnings and bon appetit!

English isn't my first language, so please forgive any typos/grammar mistakes

Some parts of the fic will look like they're highlighted. This is an editing errors due to my Word doc crashing many times, losing excerpts because my computer crashed. I know it's annoying, but please try to ignore it and enjoy the read

If you want to be tagged in my COP writing, let me know!

If you want to read more of my ILITW, TRR & D&D stuff, check out my masterlist!!

Summary: Nerea has been in Drakovia for a while, yet she feels very lonely. Meeting a certain Thorne will be eventful... to say the least

Word Count: 2.9k

Category: Romance, coming of age

Pairing: Vasili Thorne x F!OC, Sebastyan Thorne x F!OC (eventually) Marguerite Thorne x F!OC (Nerea Rose) (eventually), mentions of F!Trystan Thorne x F!MC (Neera Rose)

Rating: T

TW: There is a suggestive scene at the end, as well as mentions of discriminations against Romani people, reader's discretion is advised

Book: Crimes of Passion

Two months, six days, a hundred and two minutes and seven hundred minutes.

That’s how long Nerea Rose had been in Drakovia, and not one friend she had made. Sure, there were groups and people she had things in common, but she didn’t seem to have her crowd.

If one didn’t count Juliana Georgescu, but everybody got along fine with the countess. What a life she must lead, Nerea thought. Nevertheless, it seemed that power and wealth had a price, for her mothers had found her a suitor. The Crown Princess, no less. Absorbed in her own thoughts, she bumped into someone, dumping coffee and books all over the place. A small curse in Drakovian was spit, and Nerea did her best to apologize in an accentuated Drakovian “My apologies, I did not see you at all! Please, let me help you—,” She froze in place when she caught sight of the brown skin, dark eyes and glasses “Y-Your Royal Highness! Do forgive me—,”

A thread of apologies began between them both “It’s alright,” he answered in perfect English “I was quite absorbed myself. I did not hurt you, did I?”

“I could ask you that myself! Good heavens, your jacket is ruined! Here, let me…” He put his hand on hers and smiled reassuringly.

“I wanted to get rid of it eventually. I should’ve seen you—,”

As she collected her last book, when she saw the face of the poor man she trampled, recognition and shame came upon her “Oh my, I’m so sorry, Prince Vasili, I should’ve known—,”

He chuckled “Do not fret, I should’ve seen where I was going as well. I suppose we were both distracted.”

She shook her head “No, I should’ve seen where I was going, and now my latte is all over your surely expensive coat!”

He helped her up “Nothing a good rub won’t fix. Please, allow me to walk you to class and buy you a new latte. My treat.” He smiled, and my, what a beautiful smile that was.

“I can’t ask you that—,”

“I’m offering. Besides, I’m afraid my espresso is all over your beautiful dress too. My lady mother would be mortified if I maimed such a beauty. You are…? A beauty like yourself must have a name.” He extended his hand.

“Nerea. Nerea Rose.”

His grip was firm, yet gentle and warm, welcoming even. His eyes swept her before they too widened in recognition “Ah, I’ve heard about you! The American genius who has been travelling throughout Europe’s best universities. Your thesis on the advantages and abuses of AI was formidable. Truly a work of art. My siblings got tired of my gushing about your nuances and the way you expressed it. Not even professionals ten years ahead of you could’ve explained it as well and as richly as you.”

She blushed deeply and bit her lip “I’m glad someone appreciated it. I’m afraid my father didn’t understand much ‘technological mumbo jumbo’ and my sister couldn’t even finish it because the language was too complex.”

He smiled “Shame. It’s a true work of art. Do tell me, what brings you to Drakovia?”

“Well, since I’ve dipped my toes in technology and martial arts, I was thinking of getting a masters on Classical Languages: Latin, Greek, Ancient Egyptian, the works.”

Vasili looked at her, delighted “I am a humanist myself. Not many scientific minds appreciate the arts and humanities. Science may give us answers and make us advance as humanity, but it is art that nurtures the soul.”

Nerea smiled fondly “That’s what my mother used to say.”

Vasili frowned “’Used’?”

Nerea fidgeted with her fingers “She disappeared. Police assumed since she was a Romani—despite her ID clearly stating she was Andalusian—she just escaped with a lover, which she would never do.”

Vasili made a face “To hear the injustice in America is one thing, but that is too far.”

“Not to mention blatantly racist. But it was long before I could even have a conscience, so there isn’t much to do save do her proud, wherever she is.”

“You already have.”

She looked at Vasili, touched by his words, but before she could say something, the professor called “Ah, Miss Rose! Do come in, we have been waiting for you.”

“Your Highness—,”

“Please, just Vasili.”

“Very well, ‘just’ Vasili. I’ll see you around.”

During the small recess, as she walked around the campus, enjoying the small sandwich she made and the unusual sunny weather in the cold Drakkos, she spotted a little boy with gorgeous green eyes towards her. She smiled at him “Hello, sweetie! Are you lost?”

She noticed he held a bonbon, and made a gesture to give it to her. She chuckled “That’s sweet, darling, but I can’t. It’s yours.”

The boy insisted, his eyes making that face that made her melt. She sighed, defeated “All right, all right. I’ll take it. May I give you a thank you huggie?”

Wordlessly, he hugged her and she smiled, and a minute later, he took off to his bewildered mother. She gave her a smile. Just because this wasn’t the first time that a child smiled at her or even went as far to go to her didn’t mean it was strange. A good strange, but strange nevertheless.

“Nerea!” Juliana called.

She turned around and strid to the countess, who seemed to hold court with a few of her classmates. Many of them observed her curiously “What was all of that about?”

Nerea shrugged “I don’t know. It’s not the first time, but it’s still… odd.”

While Vasili did not have many friends, the ones he did were genuine and quite interesting. It was nice, hanging out with people who were as smart or nearly smart as her, not feeling for once like she once set the room quiet with a scientific joke.

As she observed her new group, her eyes stopped on Juliana, and as she talked and interacted, something in her body woke. For a moment, she lost her breath and one voice in her head told her that something terrible would happen to her. Then, it was gone.

When she opened her eyes, Vasili had steadied her and looked at her concerned “Are you alright, Nerea?”

“I… It’s nothing. Silly stuff of mine.”

“It didn’t seem like nothing.” He insisted.

“I just… I got a gut feeling that said that something terrible would happen to Juli. Stupid, right?” She chuckled, brushing it off.

They all looked at one another, obviously creeped out. She excused herself, going to the bathroom. After taking a few deep breaths, she washed her face, and that’s when she observed that Juliana had followed her.

She turned around, and observed that the countess observed her closely “How often do you get these gut feelings, Nerea?”

“Not very often. Only when a tragedy is bound to strike.”

Instead of looking at her like a madwoman, she leaned close, intrigued “Such as?”

“Before my mother disappeared or my Uncle Jimmy died, I got the same gut feeling. I suppose I also know when someone’s trouble.”

She nodded “And you got a feeling that I may be in trouble?”

She shrugged, “I suppose. I know it sounds ominous, but it’s yet to fail me.”

She placed a hand on her shoulder “I will keep it in mind. Thank you, Nerea. You’re a good girl.” 

As they came back, they had begun a debate about what prompted the child’s behavior. “…That was amazing! Children are a great judge of character. Has it always happened?”

“Since I turned sixteen, yes. I suppose I’ve always had a wide maternal side and connected well with children. Many stared at me when I’m out, for some reason.”

Vasili added to her surprise “That is a scientific proof that you are beautiful. I’m afraid I’m not children’s favorite prince.” He shrugged, “Trystan and Bas are.”

One of their friends clapped the prince’s shoulder, remarking that he was the group’s favorite by default. Nerea shyly said “Just because children don’t tend to look at you doesn’t mean that you aren’t handsome. It’s… what, one fact among many? I’ve seen gorgeous people who were awful to children.”

Vasili looked at her with interest before smiling “You have a point. You’ll fit well amongst us, Nerea.”

Christmas finally came around the corner, and Nerea had packed everything when she decided to look outside the window… to find it all covered in snow, even some cars! She turned on the news as the weather guy kept talking about how it’d be snowing like this throughout most of the winter, making it impossible to get out of the country. Her phone ringed, and of course, her flight had cancelled due to said weather. Sighing, she sat down and put her head in her palms, letting out a grunt of frustration.

Just then, Vasili called her. He rarely called, preferring text over call. She picked up, intrigued “Hello?”

“Nerea! I suppose you’re on the plane back to New York?”

“Nope. My flight got cancelled due to the weather, and I have nothing but yoghurt and ramen on the fridge. Why do you ask?”

He cleared his throat “Well, I was on the way home when the snow trapped my car, and your house is just above it. Perhaps I could… crash in there? Until they clear out the road, that is.”

She flushed. For months now, she had developed a complicated crush with Vasili, and the idea made her flustered “O-Of course! I’ll open the door for you. It’s—,”

“Portal 26, second floor, door 3B. I remember, Nerea.”

She smiled “Good. See you then. Hope you like cheap ramen.”

She hung up, looking at herself in the mirror, fixing her hair and spraying the special ‘Amor Amor’ perfume by Cacharel and putting on some lip oil before going to the kitchen, pretending to be preparing dinner.

The door closed behind her, and a snow-covered Vasili stepped into her view, his glasses foggy and covered in specks of snow, as well as his coat and boots. She beamed for a minute before giving him her usual friendly smile “Please, take off your shoes and coat! The heater is right there,” she pointed “and the guest room is next by mine. It’s not a palace, but it’s comfy. Can you tell me if there’s warm bedsheets there?”

Vasili obeyed the host, leaving the damp shoes by the door and hanging the coat and craned his head to the small but cozy guest room. He called out “All clear! Thank you, Nerea. I didn’t know who else to call.”

“You’re my friend. I’m happy to help. Please, sit.”

It was then when she took off her eyes from his face and noticed the large bag. She raised her eyebrows “What is that?”

“Ah, well, Marguerite had asked for Thai takeout, but I suppose that is no longer an option…”

She smiled “I love Thai. Here, let me plate it.”

“May I help?”

“Sure! Cutlery is in there.”

They both plated the Thai food and went to her desk, which was a gateway to the kitchen, and chatted animatedly about what they had been looking forward these holidays. Soon, they exchanged holiday-themed childhood stories “…Poor Nina. Swallowing snow sounds unhygienic.”

Nerea laughed “Curiosity killed the cat indeed. Despite my warnings, she didn’t listen, and we had to hospitalize her. Ever since, she listened to me more often. Well, as often as an eleven-year-old could.

They chuckled “Your sister sounds like quite the character. You must miss her.”

A pang of sadness washed over her “Very much. I’m bummed I can’t see her now. It’s… my first Christmas outside the US.”

Compassion could be read all over Vasili’s face “I can’t imagine how hard that must be. Is there any way I may be able to make it amenable while I’m here?”

She shrugged “It’ll be weird, to not cook an entire feast for the family. We always spent time with my father, sister and the Ginovesis. I’d make my special dish of huevos rotos, followed by migas and my stellar homemade turrón. I do have the ingredients here, but not an audience.”

Vasili gave her an amused look “What am I, Nerea, chopped liver? I’d be happy to be your audience.”

She shook her head “I can’t ask you that.”

“You’re not. I’m offering.”

She smiled widely “All right. But you’re helping, mister! Number one rule of the Rose Christmas; you want to eat; you have to earn it!”

He teasingly made a military salute “Aye aye, Captain!”

For two hours, they cooked, an intimate synchrony between them that neither could explain as the food was made, a certain unaddressed intimacy between stolen glances, the occasional hand brush, and how each looked at the other’s body. Especially the lips.

At last, the food was made, and they dug in, and Vasili seemed to hold back a moan of delight when he tried the huevos rotos. “Mm. The richness of the egg, the meat and the softness of the egg yolk is simply divine, and the spices really give it a kick. You truly are a talent at everything you do.”

She blushed “Thank you. I was nervous that it wouldn’t be to your tastes…”

He chuckled “I may be a royal, but I am capable of appreciating the simple things in life. And this is too delicious to ignore because the ‘commoners’ eat it as well.”

Nerea smirked “It has been a while since we’ve considered royalty some sort of demigods.”

“Thankfully so.”

They clinked their glasses, Riojan wine sparkling red “To family.”

“And those close to your heart.”

Smiling wide, they drank and kept talking and exchanging tales “You’re telling me that Patryk dared Kaspar to put on the prime minister’s underwear and streak across the building in it? No offence, but gross.”

“Not as gross as mudpies. That poor guy.”

“Hey! In my defense, he cheated on me!”

Vasili looked at her intensely “A crime indeed. Such a shame that beauties like yourself don’t get appreciated. If you were mine—,” His eyes shoot wide, and he cleared his throat “Apologies. It seems like the wine made me overstep.”

Nerea must’ve been affected by the wine, for she surprised herself when she blurted out “If I were yours, what would you do?”

He took her hands in his, an intense look on his face making her gasp “I’d worship you day and night. I’d give you the world. Every other woman would cease to exist.”

“Vasili, that is—,”

The strong wind slamming open the window interrupted the moment. Bolting up, the both rushed towards the window, where both forced it closed and panted, the effort being visible, as well as the tension of the moment.

“Whew! I need another glass after that.”

“I’ve had enough alcohol. I could use the turrón, though.”

She let out a breath “Coming right up.”

The morning after, Nerea had overslept due to the many glasses she ended up drinking. She remembers Vasili taking her to her bed, taking off her make-up and pulling the covers so she wouldn’t be cold.

She woke up and, remembering she had a guest, quickly brushed her hair with her fingers and checked her breath. Smelled like wine, of course. Taking a mentos from her drawer, she looked for something cute yet discreet. Ignoring her headache, she lifted her head and tried to have a pleasant smile on her face.

Coming out of her bedroom, the sight before her gave her heart flutters: Vasili had his shirt half-open, his hair was messy, and he was making breakfast. It smelled delicious. He seemed to notice her presence and smiled widely “Nerea! Please, do sit. I’ve made the liberty to make, ah… what do you call it? Pankays?”

Nerea chuckled “Pancakes, and it smells divine.”

He gave her a wry smile “I’ve decided to give it a Drakovian twist. It’s not as good as yours, but I believe it is how it’s done.”

He gave her the plate, and their hands brushed again. He cleared his throat “Look, about last night, I didn’t want to overstep, but… I like you, Nerea. Very much. You draw my eye like no other, and of course, you don’t have to return my feelings, but—,”

“I do return them,” she interrupted.

His gaze lifted, what it seemed like hope “Truly?”

Armoring herself with valor, she struts towards him and gave him a small peck. For a moment, he was surprised, and next thing she knew, he was kissing her passionately, a throaty moan escaping him. Next, her hands were on his hair and shirt, completely forgetting about breakfast. She chuckled “I probably reek of alcohol.”

“I rather like the taste of cherries and wine. A very sophisticated mix,”

He lifted her up with surprising strength, and she chuckled as he kissed her neck, gently dropping her to her bed. He looked at her like he was a hungry man and she was his last meal on earth. Taking off his shirt, he climbed towards her and whispered “Do you want this?”

She nodded frantically “Yes,” her voice was hoarse with desire.

He smiled devilishly “It is a good thing we haven’t eaten yet. What am I about to do is not fit for a full stomach.”

Their lips locked again, and as the sun came up, only them and their rampant tension seemed to exist for a few hours.

As in that day, Nerea didn’t feel so alone in Drakovia.

[flowerpowell]

Lonely Thoughts (Liam)

Author’s Note: Okay, so this is not a typical fic, is not even a fic, it’s rather a kind of stream of consciousness in a form of a poem. This is also a kind of blank verse, hence it’s not rhyming (but I didn’t keep it as a imabic pentameter so I can’t say it’s an actual blank verse, I hope you know what I’m talking about lmao). I just wanted to attempt to capture Liam’s emotions since he barely shows any in TRR. I hope you’ll like, any feedback is very much appreciated since I’m super nervous about posting this.

Idk if I should tag on poems too but I’ll tag my TRR/Liam/perma tag list + those who encouraged me to post it (thank you!): @christopher-powell @zigthetwig @jared2612 @damienazariostan @littlegreenmoo @katurrade @gardeningourmet @walkerduchess

Nights in my empty room the darkest place I know with heart full of regrets fears and doubts and hope 

Struggling to find words that would come out as right looking at you and smiling  despite my broken heart.

I am happy for you, I really, really am.

That’s where the things belong Who am I to complain?

Never stood a real chance yet however, I tried to win your loving heart that was never meant to be mine.

Deprived of affection, and any sort of love, you were my only hope for a light in my life.

You could’ve had a kingdom with a King at your feet, yet you simply declined it. Have I done something wrong?

Mind racing to the day  we met for the first time when I blindly believed you’d end up being mine.

And now looking at you holding my best friend’s hand, speaking now or never I just wanted to say,

No matter what happens tonight You were, are, and will be my only true Love.

[stayfallentasticc]

More than Friends

Maxwell finds himself subconsciously searching for her in the crowd again. It hasn’t occurred to him when he started to seek her in a crowd, much less, why he was doing it. He only seemed to know that he wanted to. He wanted to see her. He, always wanted to. But, he couldn’t. Shouldn’t. She was in love with someone else. She belonged to someone else. He sighed softly, looking away from the crowd that began to make their way onto the dance floor. He took a sip of his drink. He was content enough with his seat at the party. Far. Isolated. Away from judgment. 

He spots her, chatting away with Hana and Drake. Her head throws back in a fit of laughter. He wonders what she’s laughing about, what Drake said that got her laughing to her core. He wonders if anyone for that matter complimented her on how lovely she looks. How her smile seems to illuminate the room. He takes in her tight red dress that matches the color of her lips and how her hair falls in ringlets of black curls. Maxwell swears he never seen anyone or anything for that matter to be so beautiful. So mesmerizing. 

He gulps. Dangerous thoughts. Being in the same room as her was always a bad idea. It sparked ideas in Maxwell that shouldn’t even be there in the first place. He hated it. He hated this feeling. 

Sighing, he picked up his drink once more and brought it to his lips to only find it empty. He must’ve drank it all without realizing it, too busy with thoughts of Her. It’s always Her. He straightens his tie and strolls towards them. A smile plastered on his face, yet the feeling of nervousness still present. She turns to look at him. 

“I was beginning to wonder when you’ll stop getting bored from sitting at the table.” She chuckles, playfully punching his shoulder. A lopsided smile tugs at the corner of his lips. 

He feels a strange sensation in his stomach upon hearing her voice, he wave his hand away in dismissal. “Hey, for your information, the drinks back there are even more lovely. Free from the prying eye” 

“Ha, it seems like the roles are reversed. Usually it’s Drake out in the back with his whiskey.” She smirks. 

“Figured it was best for me to channel my inner Drake.” Maxwell laughs, nudging Drake who scoffs in response. 

Before, Nicole could respond, someone lightly taps on her shoulder. Maxwell gulps, a deserving noble. 

“Lady Nicole, may I have this dance?” The man flashes her a smile, offering her his hand. Maxwell finds himself annoyed by the man. Who does he think he is? Maxwell furrows his eyebrows, feeling his jaw clench ever so slightly. When did he get so protective? All these questions. Yet, to no prevail, no answer. 

“She’s with me.” He finds himself saying, his hands shoved deep in his pockets as he offers the guy an apologetic smile. “I, mean, she’s-me-” 

She raises her eyebrows for a brief second, before nodding her head. “Oh, yes, I promised Maxwell a dance. House Beaumont has to stick together.” She tells the guy, before quickly thanking him for the offer. Maxwell finds himself turning red. 

“Ah, I see. Well, it’s always nice to see you Lady Nicole. Hope you have a splendid night.” The man brings Nicole’s hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss upon it before leaving soon after. 

“What’s that about?” Nicole laughs. 

“Oh” Maxwell scratches the back of his head, chuckling softly. “I saw that you were uncomfortable. is all.” 

“Hm.” Nicole ponders, nodding her head. “Well, we better get on the dance floor now before he finds out the truth.” 

“You want to dance with me?”

“Always.” She tugs on his arm and leads him to the dance floor. 

He swears if angels existed. She would be one. 

A comfortable silence settles over them as they watch other people dance from the balcony. A drink in her hand, a drink in his. 

“You’re a natural.” Maxwell, says, not letting his eyes wander from Nicole’s eyes. “You’ve been practicing.” 

“I have to thank Hana for that. Without her, I probably would still have two left feet.” She gestures to her legs, flushing bright red when she catches Maxwell gaze lingering a little bit longer than usual. She coughs. “I expect a reward for being an amazing addition to House Beaumont.” 

“Of course.” He pauses, shaking his head, as if the end of his sentence was something he couldn’t bring himself to say.”You know, I could never say no to you.” 

Silence.

“It might be nothing, and I might be overthinking things, but why did you stop the noble from dancing with me.” Her voice is barely above a whisper, in the pit of her stomach, she was sure it was nothing. It was always just pure friendship with Maxwell on his side of things. 

He lets out a patient sigh, placing his drink down on the table, his face away from being seen. “Honestly, I don’t even know.” He turns to look at her. When she finally looks into his eyes, he confesses. “All my life, I felt incomplete. Not entirely myself. My father…..” He furrows his eyebrow, shifting his weight from one leg to another. “I never lived up to his expectations. I always had my guard up. If it weren’t for you, I probably be sulking by myself, laughing away the emptiness that just is. But, you’re here and it’s, I thought, I made myself clear when I said anything ‘you’ lights up a room.”

“What are you saying Maxwell?”

He takes a step closer, pinching the bridge of his nose, contemplating. “If this was a simpler matter, you wouldn’t be here for him. I wouldn’t be rooting for you to win. I haven’t been sure of anything in my life. Maybe it’s stupid of me to think I could be so sure, that you would want me, in a parallel life or any life really, I’m just me after all, but I’m certain that I would be happy with you. I know I would. I don’t know when I felt this way. I know you’re in love with him. I know it. But I—”

She takes a deep breath, feeling the tears rising before she quickly blinks them away. “Honestly, Maxwell, there are moments when I feel like you and I have broken down every wall imaginable. And then, you push me away, and I feel like we’re back where we started: friends. If I knew for sure that we could —” 

Before she could finish her sentence, he bridges the small gap between them, pulling her in for a kiss. He pulls away shortly after, resting his forehead on top of hers. He leans down, letting out a sigh. “I’m not completely sure what this feeling is. What we are, but I think we can both agree, we’re definitely more than just friends. Let’s give us a shot. I’m all in if you are”

She nods and in a swift, but gentle move, Maxwell tucks her hair beneath her ear and kisses her tenderly. 

Heaven could wait.