#TRH AU

[wolveria]

Update Note 03/31/2024

As of today, I'm officially taking a break from The Raven's Hymn. I was always planning on doing this, but I'm starting a few chapters early as this is a very good place to pause. I've been overwhelmed with multiple medical issues this year, and while dealing with those, also making sure my job is protected.

All that aside, there is good news. Accompanying the hiatus of the main story, I'll be posting the AU one shots in a separate fic as part of a series. For months, I've been compiling ideas for one shots featuring Reid and a number of other SCPs and people, including a few "what if" scenarios with 049. If you ever wondered to yourself "hey, what would happen if Leahy dosed Reid/049/both of them with sex pollen" or "what would it look like if 035 actually got serious with his attempts at seduction," then this is the place for you.

I will be returning to The Raven's Hymn as I have many, many things in store for these two. We're nowhere close to the end. It's a daunting task ahead of me, and I need the time to outline the rest of the story for my own sanity. If I could guess, I would say we're halfway through to the end. Considering the word count already, you can see why I need a breather.

If ever want to say hi or just talk about the bird boy, I'm always up for that. Thank you to everyone who has stuck around this long, or is just now finding this story. I will be leaving TRH as marked "incomplete" since this is not the end 💙

#the raven's hymn #trh au #update #now that that's out of the way #i can post the surprise

[txemrn]

Déjà Vu

Chapter 1

Series Summary: After an unforgettable night with a stranger, Princess Eleanor finds herself caught in a secret love triangle between a noble and a commoner.

Chapter Summary: Eleanor prepares for a night out with her best friends despite her mother's wishes for her to attend a special family dinner.

Pairing(s): Liam x Riley (in discussion); more to be revealed

Word Count: ~2740

Warning: 🔞 Mature Audiences Only 🔞 this chapter references drinking; brief language

A/N: Welcome to my Crack Fic! No one asked for this... at least no one of sound mind, and if you're a big fan of TRR, you might actually hate this (no, I'm not killing Liam!). When I pitched this idea (half-joking, half-serious) to some buddies after reading the book Birthday Girl by Penelope Douglas, the eager encouragement I normally receive was met with (what's that TikTok trend with that T Swift song?) "horrified looks from everyone in the room". But... I could not get this idea out of my head. So, here we are! I have a general idea of where this story is going... but I'm actually leaving myself open to possibilities. No matter how the road twists and turns, I would be honored if you join me!

A/N 2: This story takes place approximately 2 decades after TRR/TRH. I have made some canonical changes (they will be mentioned). Characters and some plots belong to our friends at Pixelberry! Huge thank you to @charlotteg234 for looking over this for me (and laughing like a maniac with me)! This was not Beta'd; please excuse my errors.

~🖤~

Eleanor

Tapping my newly manicured nails against the glass topper to my vanity, my gaze nervously shifts back and forth between my choices for the evening. I don’t know why this is so hard–or why it’s taking me this long to decide–but somehow, here I am in quite the conundrum.

Perversion or Temptress: that’s it. But, when it came to darkening the outer-corner of my eyelid, picking the right hue of eyeshadow matters. Yes, yes, they’re both a deep black; one is a dark matte that has the potential to smudge all over my porcelain face, but the other one, while dark, has little flecks of silver.

Biting my lip, I look at myself in the mirror before looking back at the YouTube tutorial I was following.  I feel silly making such a big deal over the color; afterall, this is supposed to be fun. Normally, for me, it is.  I’m actually really good at doing my own make-up, thanks to the internet and to my mother who convinced my father when I was fourteen that mascara and lipstick would not lead me down the path of destruction and eternal damnation.

Well, I guess I should clarify: I do a great job on my make-up, my everyday natural, diplomatically poised look. Think lots of pinks and taupes. It’s the latest trend for crown princesses; I should know.

But tonight, I wouldn’t be Princess Eleanor. I didn’t want to be Princess Eleanor. 

Dangit, that came out wrong. I don’t mean to sound like some stereotypical spoiled brat that is born into money and power, who craves freedom from her poor little privileged life.  I am content–actually, very grateful for the life I have been born into. I have been given incredible opportunities and experiences because of it. But, I’m not naive; I know I have a high-calling, one filled with much responsibility and dedication. Someday I will be queen of Cordonia.

Let’s not get ahead of ourselves... 

Tonight, I’m just Nora–at least that’s what my friends call me, and since I’m turning twenty this coming Tuesday, they wanted to take me out over the weekend. This weekend. See? Responsible. But, there is just one problem…

There’s a sudden knock on my door, my mother instantly inviting herself in.  “Dinner’s in thirty Eleanor–”  she freezes as her eyes grow wide. “Y–you’re make-up… don’t you think it’s a bit on the, um… heavy-side?”

“Mom,” I singsong, "it's supposed to be. This is how all the celebrities and models wear their make-up when they hit the town." 

"Hit the town?" My mother gave me that eyebrow, the one that gives away her true unspoken feelings. "You're going out tonight?"

"Mhmm. To dinner." I settle on Urban Decay's Perversion, and start tapping the color against my eyelid. "I told you and Daddy that Josie and Beth were taking me out–"

"Eleanor," my mom shot her first warning signal with her tone. "We discussed that tonight wasn't a good night. And if you ladies could do things tomorrow–"

"It's just a family dinner," I continue to work on my look. "Daddy said it was fine–"

"But you know how important this dinner is. We have a special guest."

Yes, yes. We know.

His name is Drake Walker, and he is–well, was, my parent's best friend back in the day before I was born. He actually grew up with my dad, Drake's father serving as my Grandpa Rys's royal guard when he was king of Cordonia.

But, then there was a falling out of some sort…well, that's according to my Uncle Leo. He means well, but I'm fairly certain the truth has been stretched.

Anyway, I'm not too clear on what happened, but shortly after my parents got married, Drake moved back to his home in America to start a normal life. He never settled down with a wife, but he kept busy with his construction company.

That is until four months ago when he discovered his business partner had been siphoning company funds into off-shore accounts. Now he spends his days laid up on the couch with a fifth of whiskey. And broke as a joke.

Drake's brother-in-law Bertrand Beaumont, the Duke of Ramsford, serves on the royal council with my parents, and after a late meeting one night, he shared the truth about their former best friend. 

Daddy and his bleeding heart… sure, he can see fiery red from time to time and his temper can bubble over, but my father is known for his grace, forgiveness, and charity towards others. He contacted his old friend… which then led to an invitation back to Cordonia.

'It's only for a little while, until he gets back on his feet,' Daddy assured my mom.  'We'll give him tasks around the palace until then.'

Mom called it a 'midlife crisis'. I don't think I was supposed to hear the latter part.

I began to draw on my eyeliner as my mother crossed her arms, glowering at me. Feeling the disappointment radiate from her glare, I stop, shrugging my shoulders. "What?"

"Part of being royal is posing as a unified front as a family."

"You act like this is some official business or a press event–"

"Our closest friends are going to be here, Elle, and–" she stops, her eyes playfully smoldering as her voice becomes angelically romantic. "--I think even Bartie is coming." 

"Mom!" I chuckle, my cheeks pinking in embarrassment from her inflection. "It's not like that with him."

Oh, but it was…

Bartie Beaumont is one of my closest friends. He's a few years older than me and well… I really enjoy spending time with him.  He's incredibly kind and charming in and out of social situations. He's quite handsome with his dark, well-kept hair and deep chestnut eyes. And smart–goodness, he's smart. He can keep up with my father, round-for-round in debating politics and foreign policies.

He's always been fiercely protective of me, even when I was a little girl. But he was always just Bartie, my honorary older brother… that is until he asked me to dance at a charity gala when I was sixteen. I had never been asked to dance by a boy before; I was normally paired with other noble children, usually from the suggestion made by their mothers. But this? It was different… and special. Someone chose to dance with me because they wanted to. And until that moment, I never understood what it meant to let a partner 'lead you', and well… I digress. It was nice. Bartie… he's just nice.

"But seriously, Mom," I continue, "the girls have already set everything up for tonight, and I'm the guest of honor for that. I can't just stand them up."

My mom gives me a long sigh. She's having that internal argument with herself where she compares her younger years as a commoner versus her younger years as a royal. "I guess I was hoping you'd get to meet your Uncle Drake tonight–"

I couldn't control my giggles. Growing up, Mom and Dad always referred to their close friends as 'Aunt' or 'Uncle', like my Uncle Max and Aunt Livvy. But they were also active members in my life that I saw frequently. 'Uncle Drake'? I don't even know the guy. 

"Isn't he living on our couch for a while? I'm sure I'll meet him at breakfast sometime." 

My mom pursed her lips. I think she realizes she has no other reasons to keep me home. Thank goodness.

"Is Lars going with you, or is one of the other guards?"

"Mom," I whine.

"Eleanor, you know the rules–"

"But I just want to be a normal twenty-year-old for the night–"

"Almost twenty-year-old," she smirks, stepping forward to fidget with my wavy, honey-brunette hair. "It's just not safe, baby. People know who you are–good people… and bad people. Even under all of this make-up, people will still recognize you."

I give a little huff, but she was right. I once dyed my hair purple and wore thick-rimmed frames to a show for a local punk band, and I'm pretty sure I posed for more photos with fans than the musicians.

"Fine, I'll ask Lars," I give my mother a half smile. "Anything else, your majesty?"

"One more thing," she twirls me around to face my reflection in the mirror. I'm keeping it pretty casual tonight with a white shirt and black ripped skinny jeans. I am pairing my black moto jacket with some gold accessories and my red Jimmy Choo pumps. Surely the woman doesn't think I'm showing off too much skin. 

Suddenly, she raises my shirt in the back and unclips my white bra.

"Mom!" 

"Eleanor," she snickers, shaking her head at me. "We've been over and over this ever since you got boobs: white shirt, nude undergarments."

I whip off my bra, quickly grabbing a skin-tone t-shirt bra. "No one's going to be looking."

"Someone is always looking." 

After hooking my bra and smoothing out my tee, Mom gave me an approving nod. And then she put her arms around me, pulling me into a hug. "Have a good time tonight. I love you, my twenty-year-old baby."

"Almost twenty-year-old baby." We both fall into titters as we squeeze each other closer. "I love you too, Mommy."

------

I text my bodyguard Lars to let him know about the evening, and as expected, he'll be ready with the car in ten minutes. 

Poor guy was ball-and-chained to me when I got my driver's license. I'm sure when he signed up for the guard, he pictured himself traveling around the world, looking like a badass with my dad. Instead, he got me, and the only traveling he normally does is to gather my morning espresso and cronut. He's made more trips to Sephora than any man should ever make in his lifetime–even more than my Uncle Max.

He's a good guy… if you like the serious, never-crack-a-smile type. He looks like John Cena with a permanent angry expression, complete with a single bulging vein in the center of his forehead. He's a man of few words despite my attempts to make him laugh, but underneath all the brawn and muscle, he has a big heart. He has literally given me his coat so that I wouldn't have to walk through a puddle of half-melted snow. And to think, he has sworn to give so much more for my own life… 

My phone abruptly pings. Beth.

>>> "Hey, bday bish! R U ready for the nite of ur life?"

I chuckle under my breath after reading the text. Night of my life… She always has a flare for the dramatics, but then again Beth has always been the life of the party. She has more personality in her pinkie finger than all of the citizens of Cordonia combined. Her mother is the Countess of Fydelia, and ever since Beth's father left, she's been indisposed.  Mom says that's a more tactful way of saying, 'alcoholic'. 

Beth walks more on the wild side, a real risk-taker. When I get in trouble, chances are she is somehow involved, like the time I got caught with a bottle of Smirnoff Ice at the Baron's Ball. Ugh, talk about the hangover from hell… and that wasn't even my punishment…

But she, along with Josie, are my ride-or-die. My BFFs. My "You jump, I jump, right?". We've grown up together, became women together, and nothing was about to ruin that bond.

I fire a text back to Beth. 

>>> "Can't wait! My car will be ready in a few. What restaurant are we meeting at?"

My phone instantly dings, catching me off guard in my attempts to glide on some lipstick. That was fast. I tap on the message.

>>> "We're coming 4 u! Be ready!"

My face falls. I know it's probably hard to believe, but my friends often forget that I'm a princess. Like, the legit crown princess of Cordonia, and because of that, I need a bodyguard present during all activities outside of the palace that have not otherwise been secured by the royal guard. As you can imagine, that rule made me so popular in grade school when my parents tried giving me a 'normal life'.

In retrospect, I'm quite grateful for the security through the years, especially when I hear about plots made by secret coups against my dad. But still, it would be nice to get my own darn breakfast. And I'm sure Lars would love to sleep in for once.

I text back.

>>> "And Lars"

>>> "R U kidding me? Ur shadow has 2 come?"

I let out a defeated exhale.  She knows this. My phone suddenly rings, her picture lighting up the screen. "Hey–"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" She sounds irritated, as if I did this maliciously to her.

"Beth, you know my parents won't allow me out without him or any other–"

"He can't come with us," she interrupts. I can hear Josie in the back, trying to calm Beth down. 

"And do tell–" I cross an arm over my chest, raising an eyebrow, "--why is that?"

She lets out a huge sigh. "Fine. It was supposed to be a surprise for your birthday, but–" she hesitates, sucking on her front teeth.  "I got us three VIP passes into Core!"

I blink a few times, racking my brain for this to somehow trip a memory. "Core?" Nope. No tripping. "What's Core?"

"Nora!" She scoffs in disbelief. "It's only the newest and hottest club in town. Tonight is opening night. Half price shots–"

"Uh, Beth–?" I could feel my stomach sinking under the weight of her excitement. And Josie wasn't any better, squealing over the line. 

A club? Like, with dancing and drinking? I had never been to one before. And something tells me that the king wouldn't be too approving of his nineteen-year-old daughter partying with half-drunk strangers, groping her in the name of dancing. Still, it sounds like so much fun.

"--and we have a VIP table with bottle service until midnight!"

"Beth!" I call out to get her attention again. "There… there's just no way I can do that. Especially without Lars."

"C'mon, Nora. It's your freaking birthday. You're supposed to let loose–"

I hang my head into my hands. "You know I want to, but… I–I can't do that. My parents–"

"--don't have to know."

That silenced me real quickly into deep thought. I might not be the world's most perfect child, but I have learned never to hide things from Liam and Riley Rys. Never. 

But I'd be lying if a glimmer of hope and excitement didn't blossom in my chest at the thought of going out despite my parent's knowledge. Besides, I am an adult; I'm almost twenty for crying out loud. If anything, I've shown them how responsible I am, and that I can be trusted. Plus, Aunt Livvy has taught me more than enough self-defense maneuvers that I could probably take a second job as a spy with her wife.

Okay. Maybe Beth has a plan.

"And how won't they find out? Lars has to give a detailed report–"

"We won't bring him."

That's the plan? I snicker under my breath, chewing on the inside of my cheek. "And… how do you suggest I get rid of him?"

"Why not a sleepover?" I hear Josie suggest in the background.

A sleepover. That could work. There were few places I could go where security didn't have to be right beside me once a building was given the all clear. Beth's house happened to be one of them. 

"But I'm already dressed up. And–and I told my mom we were going out–"

"So?" Beth interjects. "We changed our minds. We'll have dinner catered."

Crap. Am I really considering this? I look at my reflection in the mirror as I twist my lips. Dangit. And I'm having a really good hair day.

"What's it gonna be, Nora?"

I take a few cleansing breaths. I can feel my pulse, galloping like a racehorse in my ears. Could I actually get away with this? I've been to Beth's house thousands of times. The guard comes in, does a quick sweep, and then keeps watch outside, never to return until it's time for me to leave. We could sneak out the back through the guest house. He would never know.

I swallow thickly, adrenaline pouring into my veins.

"Okay. Let me make a call."

~🖤~

Tags (Please let me know if you'd like to be added/removed)

PERMA

@alj4890 @ao719 @charlotteg234 @issabees @kat-tia801 @kingliam2019 @mainstreetreader @mom2000aggie @nikirennie87 @peonierose @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam

ALL TRR

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------

Thank you so much for your support! Every like, comment and reblog means the world to me! 🖤

#the royal romance #the royal heir #choices fanfic #choices fanfiction #crack fic #trr crack fic #king liam #liam rys #liam x mc #liam x riley #riley brooks #drake walker #eleanor rys #bartie beaumont #bertrand beaumont #leo rys #choices trr fanfic #choices trr au #trr au #trh au

[mafia-diamond-smthidk]

*knock* *knock*

"Hey, uh, Miss Diamond? Some kid just knocked out a bunch of our goons and is claiming you hired him?"

[Her office was empty. Nothing but papers & photos of a few familiar faces scattered on her desk & a bulletin board up on the wall that hadn’t been there beforehand.]

[take a look at the photos?]

#trh #sona mafia au #mafia of the reds #mafia diamond #mafia dash #in character

[dcbbw]

WIP Wishlist 2024

Hello tumblrs , and Happy March 2020-4! I’m still waiting for the new year to actually feel like a new year instead of a continuum of the year before it. Can anyone else relate? 

At the very beginning of the year, while battling a never-ending case of RSV, I saw posts here about people’s writing resolutions and goals for this year. Me? I have a wish list of stories I want to start, continue, and/or finish. I will still be writing original stories, but thinking this may be the year I settle down and write/publish my own Great American Novel. We’ll see.  

Meanwhile, below is a glimpse of what immediately came to mind when I thought to put this together. Where applicable, snippets will be posted. As usual, everything is in states of rough drafts and flux, and final publication may vary from what you read here.  

Newbies:  

These are stories that are in the creation conception stage; ideas, thoughts, some words.  

The False Queen 

A long ago battle between the True Queen (Ravika/Riley) and her usurper (Magda/Madeleine) resumes during the Cordonian Social Season. Think Xena, Warrior Princess with some time travel thrown in. 

Untitled 

An unlikely pair (Justin/Anton x Kiara) finds love during the Engagement Tour. But with Anton having other plans in mind, the path to happily ever after is anything but smooth.  

Wolves and Sheep 

Combining my Riam, Anton, and Secrets of Cordonia AUs, this is the story of the trial of Anton Severus.  

At the prosecutor’s table sits the Duchy’s High Counsel and Lord Rashad Domvallier. Folders and papers are stacked neatly on the table while the men converse quietly as they type on laptop keyboards.  

The defense attorneys sit at a table across the aisle from them: a statuesque blonde woman wearing a gray pantsuit and an African man in a pinstriped three-piece navy suit. The woman is reviewing a document, her pen occasionally scribbling on the paper. The man is speaking in hushed tones into his cellphone. 

Security is omnipresent: King’s Guards work and stand side-by-side with the local constabulary and guardians of the Court.  

A side door swings open; two guards, followed by the defendant and two additional sentries enter. The guards part, allowing the public its first glimpse of Anton Severus in over five years. The quiet of the courtroom is broken by rustling and whispering as everyone strains forward. Members of the Cordonian Court are no exception.  

A sneer of disdain twists the mouth of the Duchess of Lythikos, Anton’s ex-wife. Her fingertips unconsciously begin rubbing the area on her abdomen where his dagger tore her flesh. 

The King leans forward intently, his dark-ebony eyes hard as obsidian. His expression is stoic, betraying nothing. 

The Queen is sitting ramrod straight, her eyes wide. “Holy FUCK, he’s hot!” she murmured. “I could make that man a King.” 

Without breaking his gaze on his nemesis, the King lightly slaps her thigh, causing his wife to frown at him. “I said what I said,” she hisses. “I did it for you, I can do it for him.” 

“I was royal long before I met you, and King when I married you,” Liam reminds her in a slightly reproving tone, his eyes still fixed on Anton. 

“There you go, twisting the narrative,” Riley huffs as she reaches for her husband’s hand. He readily allows her to hold it. 

Affairiage 

I thought I was making Leo Rys and Savannah Walker leads in my version of Same Time Next Year, but it appears I’m doing a fanfic of 28 Summers 

Heartland 

Back in the Year 500 BC, I came up with the idea of a late 1950s period piece featuring the TRR crew, and promptly never said another word about it:  

Well, cauldrons are beginning to bubble, and plans are being made to rework plot and premise to turn this into an anthology series set in the American Midwest during an era where Dick Clark reigned, Jim Crow ruled, and innocence began to lose its bloom.   

Sixteen Candles 

Another story that popped into my brain and left just as quickly. But thoughts of Drake Walker as Jake Ryan and Liam as Long Duck Dong are back and this time, I don’t think they’re going anywhere. 

Small Town Secrets 

This was originally titled Life in a Southern Town aka The Political AU and was going to follow the political campaigns of five mayoral candidates: Riley Brooks, the incumbent; her ex-husband Liam Rys (they still live together in the same house and co-parent their two daughters), a former state senator; Madeleine, District A councilmember; Leo Rys, the dark horse candidate; and Drake Walker, Riley’s former (?) lover who calls her a demon and a plague on the town.  

However, life events and imagination are collaborating, and I am repurposing the story to include political intrigue, hidden secrets, and humor in inappropriate places.  

Debating if this will be a Great American Novel nominee, and whether to use OCs versus the usual cast of characters.  

Little Nobles 

A (somewhat) light-hearted look at the childhoods of my favorite noble gang, along with the friendships and rivalries between their parents. 

In Progress: 

Stories that are nagging me to write them/finish them 

City Girl, Country Boy 

Tis the season, and Liam finds himself alone on holiday in Manhattan where he runs across an old friend. 

From the corner of my eye, I glimpse height and dark wool; hands stuffed in pockets. Perfectly combed dark hair and Asiatic features on a half-shadowed face. I mentally shake my head as I continue walking. It’s been over a decade since we last laid eyes on each other; there’s no way it’s him.  

I’m disappointed that after all this time, I still search for his face in the crowd, that I still hope he will pursue me despite the different trajectories our lives have taken. My steps are quicker as I pass apartment buildings, skyscrapers, and storefronts gaily decorated in the theme of the season. Street vendors hawk bootleg wares  

I’m nearing Canal Street subway when I hear running footsteps behind me. Automatically, I step to aside, so I don’t get barreled over but the steps slow as they near me.  

“Excuse me, miss,” a familiar baritone says, and I stop walking.  

It can’t be.  

I haven’t heard that voice in 12 years, but I don’t need to look to know who it is. I turn anyway so my ears and eyes can be in agreement. I am hoping my expression is neutral despite my insides being a squirrel in traffic.  

He hasn’t changed.  

His hair is still black with that streak of gray on the side; his face still unlined. Or maybe the New York night softens his years. He wears a custom-tailored, black wool coat; his wingtips are so polished, I see the streetlamps reflected in them. His cologne is subtle and not the one I remember. He still exudes confidence despite the smidgen of uncertainty in his eyes.  

Me on the other hand, I am now more TJ Maxx and Macy’s clearance rack than Louboutin. I don’t smell expensive; more like affordable. My trench coat is … vintage, and long overdue for a dry cleaning. My shoes are a dull matte black, scuffed from traversing streets and subways.  

“It is you.” I hear his disbelieving whisper despite the throng of people impatiently jostling past us. 

The Odd Couples 

It’s throwback DC AU gang, all mixed up: Liam x Liv; Drake x Madeleine; Leo x Riley; Max x Penelope 

The couple was in Baltimore for the weekend, attending a costume party thrown by Liv’s employer. There had been a buffet, open bar, and a prize for the best costume. Which Liam and Olivia did not win; Carlos Santiago, a member of the Environmental Services team, along with his wife and three children came costumed as birds and bees and won the prize.  

Liam and Liv were The Ricardos: Olivia’s red hair was done up in Lucy’s signature poodle hairstyle, and her dress was a dead ringer for the world’s most famous housewife’s iconic frock. He had wanted to wear a tuxedo and carry a conga drum but settled for Ricky’s purple polka dot silk smoking jacket with shawl collar, black pants, and black velvet slippers.  

“I can’t believe we didn’t win!” Liam muttered beneath his breath as he came behind Olivia, arms encircling her waist; his palms splayed against her flat, toned stomach. She responded by leaning against him, her back pressed against his chest.  

“Don’t hate!” she admonished. “With those Korean features and Boston accent, no way were you a convincing Cuban band leader. Besides, you have to admit the birds and the bees is a pretty creative idea.” 

“Not more creative than my SOCK GAME! I mean, Liv … you gotta admit, it’s damn good tonight!” 

He was wearing black, knee-length socks with red hearts inscribed with “I Love Lucy” scattered all over.  

Olivia rolled her eyes in exasperation at the mention of his sock game. 

This man and his socks! He thought his sock game could cure cancer and bring about world peace. 

“You’re sock game is great as it always is, darling. But it was a costume contest,” Olivia placated in a soothing tone as his fingers began removing bobby pins from her hair.  

She spun around, facing her boyfriend. Her hair fell in soft curls that framed her face. Her green eyes twinkled as she pressed a quick kiss against his lips.  

“You big, spoiled baby,” she teased. “Wanna smoke? I brought a couple of blunts along.” 

Quickly, he shook his head. “No way am I going to be in BALTIMORE off some loud.” 

Alienation of Affection 

An installment of my Gritty City AU loosely based on true events where sneaky links and self-loathing collide. Reader discretion will be advised. 

Caught 

Inspired by a keysmash-filled convo with @ao719, a twist on the night of the Engagement Ball 

This is her first admission of guilt and/or wrongdoing our entire time together.  

She has no choice.  

I attempt a deep inhale, but my chest is too tight.  

The wedding is in one week. Tonight was our engagement gala.  

“Yes, Liam yes!!! A THOUSAND TIMES, yes!” 

I caught her … them … in the act. The woman I love madly, truly, deeply and the man I trust more than anything in the world.  

I manage to choke out a single question. “Why?” 

Her shoulders slump as her head falls forward, causing her hair to cover her profile. “It hasn’t been going on long; it started on the Engagement Tour. I told him in Vegas that what we had would have to end.” 

I watched her leave the stag party arm-in-arm with Drake Walker. My best friend, with whom Riley wanted to have a fling. She swore it was a one-time affair; she was too much in love with me, but she wished to satisfy her curiosity.  

I attempted to leave first, but I was not only one of the honorees, I was also King.  

Per traditional protocol, the King is the last to leave.  

So I remained behind, drinking copious amounts of American liquor, making small talk in a loud voice so as to be heard over noisy music, and dancing with women I had previously rejected.  

All while Riley spent the night with another man. 

“But it hasn’t,” I interrupt harshly. 

Based on Tumblr Events:  

Untitled Song Rewrite 

Based on Jill Scott’s Epiphany 

Sisters Someone 

A two-part story that brings together Sloane Washington and Kiara Theron for their respective appreciation weeks (hosted by @lizzybeth1986) 

Untarnished Silver 

For King Liam Appreciation Week (KLAW), a look at 25 years of the rule and reign of Cordonia’s favorite King 

The Grand Ballroom in the Palace’s West Wing had been completely transformed into an elegant banquet hall:  

Buffet tables filled with steaming trays of foods catered from two of Cordonia’s newest and most critically acclaimed restaurants: The Little Lamb, and its sister eatery The Commoner’s Crown, were conveniently placed next to open bars throughout the humongous room.  

Tables were covered with white linen cloths and topped with floral centerpieces of irises, Peruvian lilies, and magnolias in silver vases. The flowers represented congratulations and longevity, sentiments that had been expressed repeatedly to the King and his family during the tour.  

Balloon bouquets colored silver and cream floated near the ornate ceiling, as well as being tied to chairbacks. Dining tables strategically ringed the room, affording the 1,500 attendees a full view of the stage and podium. Life-sized photographs hung from brocaded walls, capturing moments of the King’s life:  

Accepting the Crown Princeship one week to the day his brother Leo abdicated.  

Coronation night, wearing the King’s crown, royal robes, and holding the family scepter.  

Feeding ducks at Lake Fabian with his mother.  

He and Riley’s engagement portrait.  

Their wedding day, mouths opened in laughter with their faces covered in cake and frosting.  

In a dressing gown, his back to the camera and face in profile as he held one of his sons in his arms. 

Atop a horse with a frown of concentration on his face, playing in a charity polo match, the camera catching his mallet mid-swing. 

Speaking with Chancellor Merkel at a summit, a half-smile on his face as they looked down at a document, his index finger pointing to something on the paper. 

He and Riley dancing at their 20th wedding anniversary party, her face nuzzled against his neck while his lips hovered above her ear. 

A funny family portrait, complete with exaggerated poses and expressions. 

The Couple Next Door 

A reworking of the 2005 action comedy hit, Mr. & Mrs. Smith 

Final Cut 

Based on the first three chapters of a Round Robin hosted by @choicesprompts 

Bertrand Beaumont turned off the microphone before shuffling, then paper-clipping his index cards. He glanced up briefly to see the group filing out of the hotel’s ballroom; a curious expression crossed his face when he saw a few laggers approach others, striking up conversations.  

What have I gotten myself into? 

Starting a public relations firm had seemed a great idea a year ago. With the Duke’s diverse background in fashion, finance, and political legalities, coupled with his penchant for decorum and obsession with appearances, it had seemed a no-brainer. 

Savannah was his operations manager, responsible for events logistics and administrative support. Justin Severus was his right-hand person; he had done a marvelous job restoring the Queen’s reputation after the unfortunate incident at Applewood.  

He stepped from behind the podium and briskly made his way off the dais, looking down at his watch as he strode through the room. Looking back up, he saw Justin leaning against a wall, waiting for him at the elevator bank. The closer Bertrand approached his deputy, a wide smile spread across Justin’s face.  

“You were great!” he greeted the Duke. “You kept the rowdies in line and gave them just enough to pique their curiosity.” 

 Bertrand pushed the call button. “This group is not what I was expecting. South American overlords. Hollywood has-beens and wanna-bes. AMERICANS! We’re going to need to double-check the mentor list again.” 

Bertrand had postponed the mentor/mentee matchup because it was not yet finalized.  

“It’s a hella group, for certain. The subject of an international child custody case, a lawsuit-riddled doctor, disgraced C-suite executive, Leo, Trystan, Olivia, a scandal-ladened starlet, America’s Sweethearts, Princess Marguerite, and Duke Dick.” 

Bertrand gave Justin a withering glance. “DO NOT engage in intercourse with the Princess!” he warned.  

“Too late,” Justin smirked.  

Bertrand shook his head before commenting again. “The Selection Committee must have been drunk when they approved their choices. Have the other members of Court arrived?” 

The elevator arrived and the gentlemen boarded. Justin’s index finger punched their floor number as he shook his head.  

“Not yet. A storm is coming in, waves are choppy. They should be here by 4, and that will be the last ferry into and out of the Isle until Monday morning.” 

Bertrand mulled over the information. “At least we don’t have to worry about anyone sneaking off.” 

Finish Them:  

So these are stories that are soooo close to completion, but I am on the fence with two of them; the others, not sure why they are still sitting around gathering dust.  

House of Cards 

Based on the international phenomenon Squid Games, this is the backstory of “The Salesman”. On the fence about this story, and more so about posting this one in the fandom. 

On this, the night of Day 2, the remaining participants were playing yet another “game”: Pillow Fight.  

Innocent sounding enough.  

Except everyone knew there would be a deadly twist, and all wanted to be alive in the morning. After realizing that this was a game to the death; overcoming the initial shock of a robotic doll the size of a fully grown tree whose eyes were infra-red cameras, and learning elimination meant certain demise … partners had already become opposition.  

Player 081 inadvertently set the match to the fuse. No one knew if it was intentional. No one cared. 

The middle-aged man, who was less than 48 hours into a dry drunk, muttered “fuck” under his breath as he stood on his top tier bunk in an attempt to press his palm against the glass pig’s underbelly.  

No one was sure why.  

Was he trying to steal the bank’s treasure? Or turn off the irritating light? 

 It no longer mattered.  

The money wasn’t his and now, it never would be. 

As pillowcases filled with objects such as rocks, sturdy tree branches, and in some …mere feathers randomly swung wildly, the white cotton slowly seeped red. Hollers and screams filled the room and echoed off walls and ceilings as beds collapsed from metal bars being snatched by the frenzied mob or being tipped over in the melee.  

On the other side of the bunker, a thin, petite woman who looked no older than a teenager sniffled, the tears she cried streaking a bruised cheek covered with the dried blood of a corpse. A young man lay on his side behind her on the narrow mattress, his cracked voice in her ear.  

“It’s gonna be okay, Soo-Ah; just four more games and then we can leave,” he assured her in a ragged whisper. 

The woman hitched her breath. “My pillowcase has FEATHERS, Sang-yul! If they pull me into the fray, I’ll be leaving here a lot sooner than four days!” Her body shook with silent sobs. 

The 23-year-old street urchin said nothing. Instead, he swallowed heavily and tried not to puke at the smell of blood, both old and fresh, assailing his nostrils. His arms tightened around Soo-Ah, his only friend in this hellhole.  

The pig’s lighting flickered faster and more erratically as the fighting grew more frenzied. Sickening thuds, bellows of pain, and the sounds of shoe soles squeaking against the blood and brain splattered linoleum flooring were as loud as bombs.  

Sang-yul chanced a glance over his shoulder, his body tensing at the sight of someone headed in their direction, their face pale and ghoulish in the broken light. A metal pipe was carried in one hand, a bloodied cloth sack in the other.  

Coal black eyes darted everywhere looking for a victim.  

Less players meant more money. 

Sins of the Father 

A Gritty City AU installment. Reader discretion will be advised. 

He met Madeleine at her car door, his lips crashing uninvited against hers in a kiss filled with desperation and disbelief. When the kiss ended as abruptly as it began, Madeleine adjusted her tortoise-shell glasses while her green eyes searched Liam’s face almost warily.  

“What the hell was that?”  

“Someone killed Poppa Joe tonight!”  

Madeleine quelled a shiver that raised goosebumps on her exposed skin before reaching back inside the car for her purse. “Thank GOD,” she breathed as opened the rear driver-side door to release Hans and Gunther, who bounded out of the car and sat before Liam so he could rub their heads and murmur sweet gibberish to them. 

The restauranteur was yet another of Poppa Joe’s victims; when she was 15, the priest had gotten her pregnant. The scandal was handled quietly by the parish and her parents; the latter believed the father of the baby was an upperclassman named Tariq.  

The young blonde left school for one month due to “illness”. It wasn’t a complete fabrication. 

Madeleine’s abortion was a back-alley botch job which left her with a raging infection and too much blood loss. She survived but had to have an emergency hysterectomy.  

She no longer cared. When she and Liam were getting serious and discussing marriage and family, he was relieved they would be unable to have children.  

Tariq, the son of poor Moroccan immigrants, was transferred to an exclusive private school in the city’s North End, all expenses paid via a scholarship provided by St. Joan’s Academies. 

“How did the rest of the party go?” she asked quietly as they began walking towards the house, holding hands; her blonde hair bounced against her shoulders. 

Liam nodded slightly. “Good. We got Sloan Enterprise and slew of new donors.” His side-eyed his wife. “Where did you go with the dogs? It was supposed to be a walk.” 

Madeleine turned her head vaguely, meeting her husband’s gaze.  

“Ice cream,” she replied in a soft voice.  

Her husband nodded thoughtfully. The term was code between them; when situations became too overwhelming, too triggering, they said they needed “ice cream.” 

“I hope you brought me some back.” Liam squeezed Madeleine’s hand more tightly.  

“You don’t like chocolate.” 

The Queen’s Friendship 

Riley was chatting with Maxwell in the Delegates Dining Room at the UN, waiting for the gala to begin. Liam was at the head of the room, arm in arm with Madeleine. His eyes spotted Riley and he winked. Riley rolled hers and turned her back to him.  

“Blossom, don’t act like this! You know he’s trying,” Maxwell begged.

“WE’RE trying! He’s kissing his fiancée,” Riley retorted. Her eyes scanned the room. “Oh, look … there’s Drake,” she stated before walking away from Maxwell.  

Riley had no idea if it was Drake or not, she just wanted away. From Liam, Madeleine, Maxwell … Cordonia. Riley figured now was the time to make the break. She was back home in New York City. She still had her apartment, for the next month at least. She passed by elegantly dressed tables and came upon an hors d'oeuvres station; she paused to pile a tiny plate with even tinier bits of food when she heard her name.  

“Riley Brooks?” 

She turned, a disinterested expression on her face until she saw who it was. Riley hurriedly set her plate on the edge of the buffet table before wrapping her arms around Veronica.  

“OH MY GOD, Ronnie! What are you doing here?” Riley shrieked.  

Veronica hugged her old friend tightly. “It’s so good to see you!” The women separated. “You look great, girl! I’m one of the event planners, why are you here?” 

Riley shrugged. “I’m with the band.” 

Veronica shook her head in disbelief. “How did you end up with royalty?” 

“I answered an ad to be a waitress.” 

DC AU Series, Chapter 6 

The chirping of birds and a full bladder woke Riley up. She arched her neck, eyes still closed; they opened quickly when she felt arms around her waist and Liam’s soft snores behind her. Last night ran through her brain: their fight, their kiss, their confessions. Riley inhaled and let out a shaky breath; were they really going to do this? 

Yes. 

Was she ready for it? 

No.  

Her hands curled around Liam’s wrists, trying to pull them apart. He resisted at first, but let his arms fall away from her body. Riley missed their warmth immediately.  

“Where are you going?” Liam mumbled.  

“Bathroom and to take my meds.” 

“Your pill and a bottle of water are on your nightstand.” 

Riley looked and saw the pink pill sitting on a tissue, next to an unopened bottle of water. When did he do that? 

“Thank you. But unless you put a toilet on the nightstand as well, I gotta get up.” 

Liam shifted, allowing Riley to move and sit up. He watched her adjust her night shirt; his eye was caught by a mole on the back of her neck.  His finger reached out, touching it experimentally. Riley giggled as she shrugged away from his touch.  

“It’s like a potato bug,” Liam said as he tried to touch the mole again.  

“Oh, dear God! Don’t you have to go to work or something?”   

Liam lay on his back, hands behind his head. “Not going in today. You need me here.” 

Riley frowned at him as she walked past the foot of the bed. “I’m fine, Liam. It’s just Drake.” 

“Drake with apologies and explanations and closure. Different Drake than what you’re used to. I’ll feel better if I’m here.” 

Riley shook her head as she stepped into the bathroom.  

“This is what having a man who wants to claim you is like, Riley B.!” he called out.  

“We’re not there yet!” she hollered back.  

“Practice makes perfect!” 

Oldies but Goodies: 

New chapters/updates of old stories:  

Timing 

Object of Affection 

Betrayal (Riam) 

The Commonerr’s Wife 

The Commoner (not that old, but I too want a thrid chapter) 

One Night Stand 

UnRomance 

Streets of New York

Platinum (truly needs to be filed under Finish Them)

Best Friend (Depeche Mode Diary entry, needs to be a Finish Them)

Liara 

And these are my #goals for 2024 writing-wise. I hope something caught your eye, piqued your interest. For all those still hanging with me and exercising the utmost patience while I let life kick my ass, I LOVE YOU! Something’s coming soon-ish, just not sure what.  

Hope you’re here for it. 

Tagging: @jared2612 @marietrinmimi @indiacater @kingliam2019 @bebepac @liamxs-world @mom2000aggie @liamrhysstalker2020 @twinkleallnight @umccall71 @superharriet @busywoman @beezm @gabesmommie1130 @tessa-liam @gardeningourmet @mainstreetreader @angelasscribbles @emkay512 @princessleac1 @charlotteg234 @alj4890 @lovingchoices14 @lady-calypso @choicesficwriterscreations

#dcbbw writes #all the wips #trr/trh au fanfiction #writer on tumblr

[angelasscribbles]

Heir Apparent Chapter 20: Asked and Answered

Series: Heir Apparent.

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Drake x Riley, Liam x Riley (past)

Rating: R

Warnings: Mature themes, language

Word count: 1,625

A/N: Every time I think I know where this is heading and how it's going to end, I'm wrong. The characters keep doing their own thing. Half the time I'm surprised when I'm in the middle of writing what I wanted to happen and suddenly something else comes out. Anyway, I already know some of you are going to yell at Liam lol. Sorry/not sorry. I can't help it, I apparently can't control my own damn characters.

Everything else: Master List.

“Whatever it is, just spit it out already!” Riley was unable to take the frustration and suspense any longer.

Her husband had been acting squirely ever since the press conference. He was clearly agitated about something, but he wasn’t forthcoming with details of whatever it was.

“I thought we agreed we were telling each other everything from now on,” she reminded him.

Drake ran a hand nervously through his hair as he took in her demeanor, hand on her hip, a frown on her face, worry in her eyes.

He had to ask her, right? If for no other reason than to settle the whole thing once and for all.

“Yeah, okay, right,” he gestured to the cream-colored loveseat in the middle of the sitting room, inviting her to sit.

She took a seat and looked up at him expectantly, “Well?”

“Well…I…” he took a moment to quell the shaking in his hand as he drew in a fortifying breath, and took the seat next to her. Taking her hand in his, he decided to just spit out quickly, “I just wanted to know if you…if you wanted a Cordonian Arrangement.”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“It’s an addition to the marriage vows, basically a formal agreement opening the marriage-“

She pulled her hand out of his and her body jerked away from him as hurt and anger bubbled up in her heart, “You want to see other people?”

“What? No!” panic swept through him as he tried to explain, “It’s not for me, it’s for you!”

“What do you mean? You’re not making any sense! You want me to see other people?”

“Only if you want to…”

She stared at him as shock and confusion swam through her, “I don’t understand, Drake, why would you think I wanted to see anyone else?”

“Not just anyone, Riley…this would be a way for you to maintain a relationship with Liam….if you wanted to...” he trailed off, sighing with defeat.

“I don’t! Why would you think-“ she stopped midsentence as the answer presented itself to her, “Fucking Liam! This was his idea, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, but-“

“But what, Drake?” She sprang to her feet and stalked away from him, “Are you seriously trying to pimp me out to your best friend right now? Is that what’s happening?”

“No! God…no! This isn’t what I want, but if it’s what you want then-“

“Then what?” She whirled on him, fury blazing from her eyes, “You’d be okay with sharing me with him?”

“No!” He leapt out of his seat as a maelstrom of emotions exploded in his chest, “I told you, this isn’t what I want! But Liam said-“

She made her way back to him with record speed, “I don’t care what Liam said, Drake! You’re my husband, not Liam!”

“I know that Riley but-“

Face red and shaking with fury, she yelled, “I know I fucked up in Vegas, Drake and I’m sorry! I don’t know how many more ways I can make that clear to you! When are you going to stop punishing me for it?”

“Punishing you?” His mouth fell open incredulously, “No, I’m not! That’s not what this…how the hell would letting you continue to sleep with Liam be me punishing you?”

She drew in a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself as she realized he was being serious and forthright, not snarky or sarcastic, “Because, Drake….the fact that you really thought I would want this…that I would say yes to it hurts me!”

“I….” he raked a hand through his hair as relief crashed through him, “it does?”

“Fuck, Drake, yes!” tears spilled down her face, “of course it does!”

He reached for her and drew her into his arms, “Baby, why are you crying?”

“Because it’s my own damn fault that you think that!”

“I’m sorry, please don’t cry. Don’t blame yourself for this.”

She hiccupped a little as she drew away from him, “Oh, I don’t. Not for this! I’m blaming Liam for this!”

“He was just-“

“Just what, Drake? Just putting doubts in your head? After everything we’ve overcome? It’s not okay!”

“I really don’t think he meant-“

“Are you defending him?”

“Um…” he took in the fury in her eyes, “….no…”

She picked up her phone and started dialing.

“Riley, are you sure you should do this right now? Maybe you should-“

“Don’t you dare tell me to calm down!”

“I wasn’t!”

He absolutely had been.

When Liam answered she barely gave him a chance to say hello, “Did you tell my husband to ask for a Cordonian Arrangement?”

“Uh…” in his private office, Liam gestured for the press secretary to leave and give him some privacy.

“Well?” Riley demanded, “Did you?”

As soon as he was alone, Liam leaned back in his chair with a defeated sigh, “I take it by the tone of your voice that the answer is no.”

“Of course, the answer is no, Liam! I thought we’d made a breakthrough in therapy last week! How could you possibly think any of us are ready for something like that? Huh? Drake and I are trying to put our lives back together and I need to focus on the baby right now!”

The sinking disappointment in his chest made a U-turn. He cleared his throat and sat upright, “I apologize, Riley. You’re absolutely right. We did make a breakthrough and I heard you.”

You said you still loved me.

“Okay, good,” she was mollified a little. “If you care about my happiness, or his, please back off and stop this.”

“Absolutely. I promise!” I promise to back off for now.

She said none of them were ready for such a step, not that such a step would never be possible. She said she needed to focus on the baby for now, not that their relationship, such as it was, would never be on the table for discussion.

He was a patient man. Time was on his side. She wasn’t going anywhere. They were going to be coparenting for a long time.

He realized that what he wanted might never happen, but he was all about calculated risk.

It wasn’t even that he wanted to have sex with her again. Of course, he did, but that wasn’t really the point. Sex was easy enough to come by.

He wanted her love. If that took the form of a deep and close friendship, he would settle for that.

He wanted her to trust him again. He wanted her to like him again. He wanted to be a part of her life again. A real part, not just someone on the periphery, an outsider looking in.

He wanted to be a part of his child’s life, a real part, not just a weekend father or an obligation, an amorphous authority figure to please like his own father had been.

To have a good relationship with his child, he had to have a good relationship with the child’s mother. That was common sense.

Riley seemed to think he was an impediment to her marriage and that was the opposite of what he’d been trying to do.

With sudden clarity he realized that the only way to accomplish both of his goals was to repair his relationship with Drake.

Not that he didn’t want to do that for the sake of their lifelong friendship anyway. It was just difficult overcoming all the emotional obstacles that lay in their path.

But just as he knew he needed to repair things with Riley in order to have the best relationship possible with his child, he realized that he needed to repair things with Drake if he had any hope of salvaging anything from the wreckage of what was left of his relationship with the woman he loved.

What a tangled mess the three of them had made.

He supposed he had Drake to thank for her staying in Cordonia so there was that. Of course, if not for Drake she would be married to him right now, by her own admission.

Not happily, though. He had to remind himself of the other part of their conversation.

She still resented him for what had transpired on coronation night and in the days and weeks following.

Of course she had fallen in love with the man that has swooped in and rescued her, the one that had been there for her, the one that could, and had, claimed her publicly. The one that had literally taken a bullet for her.

Drake had been willing to die to protect her, and he almost had.  

Liam would have been willing to throw himself in front of a bullet for her, but he knew he’d never have been allowed to. Security would have tackled him to the ground before he could have moved.

The same moment Drake had been saving Riley’s life, Liam had been drug from the dais and pulled out the door of the ballroom.

As these thoughts poured through his head, he had an epiphany. He had made the right decision not to marry at all regardless of if Riley ever consented to enter into an extramarital relationship with him or not because he simply had nothing to offer a potential wife other than the danger that came with the crown.

Riley was right. He would never be able to put her, or any woman for that matter, first. Cordonia was a harsh mistress and she demanded everything from him.

His jaw set as he determined that the same would not happen to his child. He would make sure of it. And he would make it up to Riley somehow, even if it took the rest of his life to do so.

#heir apparent #angelasscribbles #drake x riley #liam x riley #the royal heir #the royal romance #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #complicated au #the royal heir au #liam rys #drake walker #riley brooks #trr au #the royal romannce #trr #trr/trh

[dwiankus]

The Loyal and Hard Working MCs also Kindhearted

Amazed by them who part of

#choices stories you play #playchoices #choices #hogwarts #hufflepuff #hogwarts au #love island the game #the elementalists #surrender #high school story: class act #high school story choices #high school story #the royal heir #the royal romance #trr/trh #choices trr #choices the royal romance

[lartistwriter]

ROLE SWAP HUNTER AU

Capitulo 1, parte 3:

- ¡Deja ya de volar, cuervo! -grita el chico, quien se queda mudo cuando ve el lugar tan extraño en el que se encontraba, pues este estaba lleno de trastos- Hala, y yo que creía que tenía cosas raras, esto -dijo sosteniendo una percha que atravesaba la cabeza de un muñeco que estaba pegada al cuerpo de un peluche de lagarto al que habían sustituido un brazo por un tenedor-... es otro nivel.

- Has vuelto por fin -escuchó Hunter asustándose, pero decidido levanto una tela de la carpa en la que parecía encontrarse, para poder ver el origen de aquella voz femenina- Vamos a ver que has traído hoy.

Hunter ve como el cuervo blanco se coloca encima de un baston, al que se acaba uniendo volviendose el animal en lo que parecía una figura decorativa de este.

- Basura -dijo la bruja mientras sacaba de la bolsa un teléfono, un anillo y una copa de oro que relucía, tirando esos tres objetos a cualquier lado-. Esto sí -dijo feliz mientras sacaba unas gafas de broma de las que se caían a través de unos muelles unos ojos de plastico-, con esto si me haré rica. Y esto -dijo sacando el libro de Azura de la bolsa  y lo acercaba a una vela-, me servirá para hacer fuego.

Hunter reacciono rápidamente, lanzándose a por su libro.

- Perdón, disculpe es mio, gracias -tras tomarlo corrió hacia la puerta por la que había accedido, pero esta se cerro antes de que pudiera traspasárla.

- No vas a ir a ninguna parte -le dijo la mujer mientras se quitaba las gafas de broma.

Este guardo rápidamente el libro como pudo en su mochila y levantando la tela salió de la carpa para encontrarse con un mundo increíblemente raro.

- Ay, madre mía, ¿qué está pasando? -se trato de alejar del precipicio desde donde estaba viendo todas esas rarezas cuando se topa  con lo que parece un hada- ¡Ah! Anda, pero si es un hada, vas ha decirme que todo esto es un sueño ¿verdad? -pregunto deseado que dijera aquello, pero estaba lejos de la realidad.

- Dame tu piel -grito el hada mostrando unos afilados dientes.

- ¡Ah! ¿Dónde estoy?¿Me habré muerto?¿Estaré en el lado malo? -se preguntaba el joven al ver que todo era tan extraño.

- Ya quisieras -le dijo la mujer tomándolo del hombro y asustandolo.

#the owl house #the owl house oc #the owl house fanfiction #the owl house fandom #the owl house fanart #role swap au #role swap hunter au #hunter #hunter toh #toh hunter #toh oc #toh #toh oc x canon #toh fanart #toh fanfic #toh fandom #theravenhouse #trh #the raven lady

[spitinsideme]

I absolutely adore the demon AUs so I ended up drawing them <3

I struggled with Ragatha, sorry it looks bad 😭

GOD DONT YOU WORRY I STRUGGLE WITH RAGATH TOO BUT TJAT STILL LOOKS GOOD !!!!IT FUCMS !!!! THE WAY YOU DREW HER HAND SMOKING HODLING TRH CIGARRERE I HAVE NEVER WNATED SOMEONES FINGERS ISNIDE ME THAT MUCH !!!! NOT EVEN SRXUALLY THE HAND JJST LIIKS ABSOLUTELY AMAIZNG AND I LOVE IT !!!! AND POMNIS HORNS LOOM SOFUCJING GOOD I LOVE THISOSOSMUCH 10/10 !!!!!

#demon x nun au #i llve this art somuch #honestly it looms sososos cool #im shaking with excitement and happeniness

[dc-polls]

"That Really Happened?!" DC Comics Tournament Entry #5

Superman's Sentient Excised Tumor with Daddy Issues

[ID: A comic image of Kancer, a giant inhuman monster looking creature with a long head like the alien queen, wrapping his tail around Superman's torso. He has many green spikes that resemble kryptonite crystals coming out of his back and tail, and he has a lot of green dots on his body that are either eyes or glowing orbs. Superman shoots him with laser vision. /END ID]

What Happened?

A villain (Pokolistan Zod) enacted a complicated scheme to give superman a tumor. He had a tumor, and was almost dying until Superfam excised it from him. However, Zod took the tumor and used science to turn it into a sentient creature called Kancer, who then started mass murdering people to get Superman's attention. He calls Superman "Father" all the time and feels close to him because he came from him literally (aside: We also see the villain literally looking at Kancer's growth tank and saying "congratulations, Superman, we're fathers..." Everyone says that Kon El with his retconned story is Lex and Superman's canonical baby but they ignore Superman and Pokolistan Zod's first canonical baby???) Anyway. Kancer offers to become Superman's pet (?) and stop killing people if Superman kills Krypto, his dog, to give him a space (and prove he's important). Kancer at some point reveals he knows Superman is Clark Kent, due to having been literally growing inside him, and is debating telling Zod his secret identity and will if he is rejected. Clark angsts about this, and Kancer goes to Pokolistan where aside: Guy Gardner has been repeatedly killed and mutated until he's lord of hell due to crossover events from OWAW. Guy tells superman he has to take his place in Hell or something bad will happen. Superman doesn't want anyone to die or go to hell but agrees because reasons. Krypto tries to kill Kancer and Superman stops him (Krypto) which inadvertently convinces Kancer Superman loves him for real and he takes GUy's place in Hell to save Superman. Guy is non-plussed about this and says he was going to hell anyway because he killed so many people but also he was a literal baby how was he supposed to know murder was wrong? Anyway, I don't think anyone had "Superman's sentient tumor with daddy issues becomes a serial killer and sacrifices himself in Hell" on their DC bingo card. Also this was all main canon and not an AU, with Clark Kent Superman.

--

Tournament polls will be posted after all entries are up. As always you can find all posts related to the tournament using #dc-polls-trh

#dc-polls-trh #dc comics #clark kent #superman #pokolistan zod #kancer

[enby-ernhardt]

“Introducing Newlyweds Sir Raine Nightbloom, Hero of Morella and twice saviour of the Realm, and Aerin Valleros, Hero of Morella”

Please pretend Raine’s hair has the blue gradient, I wasn’t able to do that without it looking like crap.

Raine and Aerin, with their twin daughters Kendra and Keira, the owlbear cub I have yet to name in this au, and a flying squirrel creature they have yet to notice but Raine is going to adopt.

So I wanted to give Raine some fancy clothes that were nicer than the masquerade outfit, and rather than make it easy on myself by making it a ball or other such function, I decided to make it a wedding, which obviously meant Aerin had to be there 😆

And then I figured, why stop there? Why not make the kids as well? And so, here they are. I’m actually quite proud of how they turned out 😁

Keira is named after Aerin’s late mother, and Kendra after the queen from Raine’s favourite story. (It was going to be Kenna, but I can’t decide if they’re Nightbloom’s or Valleros’s, and Kenna Nightbloom has too many N’s)

@bladesrc

Asset list:

I only grabbed a few files from abookishcreative, surprisingly (here): All the baby stuff was recoloured from baby bump assets, except the headband which was from The Royal Heir Raine's formal outfit is a recolour of Drake's masquerade outfit from TRR/TRH

Most files were from farizrz's assets folder here, just recoloured: The Church background and Aerin's formal clothes (recolor) were from Guinevere Raine's casual outfit was recoloured from The Cursed Heart Cabin background, Aerin's casual outfit (recolor), the Owlbear, and of course Raine were all from Blades, with Raine's fancy hair recoloured from the pink elf MMC

And Aerin was assembled by korgbelmont (here) his hair was a nusance!

#blades mc #aerin valleros #blades of light and shadow #playchoices #blades redesign challenge #blades rc

[wolveria]

AU - Both Pollened for that WIP game?

Good choice good choice

There was nothing very disarming about the SCP waiting inside. The door slid back to reveal the dark form sitting at the table, his shoulders slightly hunched, and his head bowed. His mask lifted upwards so quickly it was almost a jerk, his eyes focused on you like a large hawk spotting a mouse in a meadow.

You frowned at the unusual display but continued forward, your tablet held against your chest as you entered the interview room. The Class III Humanoid Restriction Harness was in place, two extender bars connecting the collar around his neck to the grips of the two guards who flanked him. Even sitting down with his wrists shackled to the table, they weren’t taking any chances.

Typically, you would be at ease in the SCP’s presence, but something had clearly agitated him. You assumed the guards had been rougher than necessary, leaving the poor entity ruffled and misused.

You sat at the table opposite of SCP-049, laying the tablet flat on the table, and gave him a reassuring smile.

“I’m going to ask you a few questions today. Is it okay if I record this interview?”

The SCP stared at you, but his grey eyes seemed fixed on the wall behind you.

“SCP-049?”

“I would not suggest making a record for what is about to transpire, but I fear that decision is outside your control.”

It was your turn to stare. The SCP’s words had been low, grinding in his throat as if it was difficult to speak, and his eyes were now focused on you far too sharply.

“SCP-049, are you feeling all right?”

One of the guards behind you clicked his radio, but you heard nothing else, indicating he had switched to his headset. Behind the glass, the weight of their stares were heavy on you, a reminder that your position was on the line.

There was a crinkle of chains as 049's folded hands shifted on the table.

“Are you?”

The question brought you up short. The way it was presented was fairly neutral, but this level of stubbornness was unlike him.

“049, if you are unwilling to cooperate for this interview, then you will be escorted back to your cell.”

“No. I will not.”

He leaned forward, chains pulled taut at the movement.

“Neither you nor I will be leaving this room. Not, I suspect, for a while.”

You opened your mouth to ask him what the hell was wrong with him, and then fell silent. Guards on both ends of the room suddenly turned, opened the door, and walked out.

All you could do was watch, startled into inaction until the room was emptied of all but you and the SCP.

You leapt from your chair, tablet forgotten as you swiped your keycard in front of the reader. It didn’t so much as beep. You pounded on the door, calm professionalism forgotten as you were left trapped inside.

You went over to the mirrored observation window next, banging your hand into the surface so hard it wobbled. Panic rose in place of confused anger. Your forehead was beaded with sweat, your hair already damp, and heat sufficed your skin.

“You are feeling the effects.”

You met 049’s reflected gaze in the mirror.

“The effects of what?”

His head tilted, as of the answer was obvious.

“Whatever they have given us both.”

Your mind immediately backtracked to earlier that morning and the unusually bitter coffee some tech had handed you before the interview.

049 must have glimpsed it in your eyes, the conclusion you’d drawn with the facts you were given. You and the SCP were caught in an experiment, exposed to an unknown chemical, and the results would be documented.

Without warning, the SCP yanked through his chains, the links scattering across the floor like spilled jewels from a broken necklace. He rose to his feet, broad shoulders blocking out the light behind him, his beaked mask dipped as his gaze burned through you.

You bolted from the window into the far corner of the room, but the entity was right on your heels. He grabbed a fistful of your coat, yanked you backwards, and slammed you onto the nearest surface: the interview table.

#the raven's hymn au #trh au #scp 049 x reid #scp 049 x reader #wip game #anon #reid and 049 don't really know each other yet so he's a lot colder in this one #but it'll be fine don't worry ;)

[mushroombossa]

TRH was good (not great though), but it confirms my sentiment that the movie format isn't very compatible with B5. At the same time you need to have a decent grasp of the story to understand and appreciate all the references, it is very shy on covering new grounds because of the amount of build up the story needs to hit the right points, which isn't an issue in a series format. What is left is pure fanservice, which for some is bliss and for others a disappointment.

I keep wondering how this would turn out were it a limited series of 6-8 episodes. Perhaps Sheridan could stay longer in an alternate reality to let us absorb what's happening better and help us connect with the characters aside from a quick cameo. The Sinclair AU was the most interesting to me, precisely because they spent the most time there in the plot.

But we can't blame JMS too much, can we? Knowing Warner Bros, it's a miracle this even exists. If the reboot ever comes out of development hell, maybe we're bound to see more interesting stuff. But as it stands, this film is an inoffensive fun time to have, but nothing much else.

#babylon 5 #babylon 5 the road home

[dcbbw]

Sneak Peek Sunday--The A/N Edition

Happy Sunday, tumblrs and Happy Mother’s Day to those who celebrate. It’s late evening but didn’t want to let the day end without posting snippets of the two stories that have somehow taken priority in my mind and are bubbling up furiously in the Fuck Wizard’s cauldron.

There are only two tonight, and they are accompanied by the author’s notes. I implore everyone who reads this to take the time to read the A/N for Waiting Room even though it is appropriately tagged with content warnings. Also, please reach out via comments or DM if you want on or off the tag list for Waiting Room (or just in general).

Everything’s below the cut, and in a state of rough draft. Final posted versions may differ. Enjoy and see you soon!

Texting (tentative title)

This story is the result of a wild hair all up IN my buttcrack and a plethora of disjointed ideas. The inspiration for said story is ripped straight from real-world headlines and this movie trailer. I was going to keep this somewhat canon compliant, but Cordonia/transatlantic doesn’t work here, so I present to you the NYC AU.

I am excited about this, and believe it or not … I am super stoked to have Drake Walker living in NJ with his girlfriend/fiancée Anne Marie, a true Jersey girl complete with big hair, 90s era hoop earrings, and that accent.

Thanks to those who read the beginnings of this story and encouraged me to WRITE IT! WRITE IT! WRITE IT!

You guys already know who belongs to PB (but do they really?); everyone else belongs to me.

Song Inspiration: Midwife, Sickworld

Brooklyn

“I’m in love with you, you know,” the man whispered against the woman’s shoulder. His breath was harsh and hot, with the staleness that comes from awakening out of a deep slumber.

A smile curved the woman’s lips; she spoke though her eyes remained closed. “I can’t tell. I’m still a fiancée after seven years,” she teased.

He nipped her shoulder. “In less than a month, we move from promise to commitment. And we needed that time to prepare, you know that!”

She stretched languidly, twisting her body so she faced him. “Indeed, we did.”

In their time together, the couple had bought a three bedroom, two bath house with an attached one-car garage; a rarity in Cobble Hill, a neighborhood within Brooklyn, New York. The fact it cost under a half-million dollars turned the rarity into a unicorn.

They had started a business: a pub in the center of one of Brooklyn’s most bustling communities named The Bar Belle; he often said it was an ode to how they met.

He had purchased the car in their garage for her; she was the official chauffeur as he had never learned to drive. His argument was always, “For what?”

In seven years, they had built a life.

Riley Brooks sat up in the bed, waking before the alarm clock went off. A slightly sour odor wafted past her nostrils when she pulled the sheet closer to her nude body; she couldn’t recall the last time she had washed the linen.

It didn’t matter.

Her eyes traveled around the bedroom, tears pricking the corners of her eyes as she took in the pictures of her and Daniel; of his dark blue eyes, dark brown hair, and lopsided smile. She reached blindly for her phone laying atop her nightstand, and through tears, she texted a message.

New York County District Attorney’s Office, Manhattan

The man was focused on the screen in front of him, blue eyes trained on the string of 1’s and 0’s as he uploaded the latest patch update to the 752 employees of the New York County DA’s office. The buzzing of his phone caught his attention.

It was her; it had been her for the last six months.

His long fingers moved swiftly over the wireless keyboard as he typed, answering and entering prompts by rote; his mind was curiously wondering what she had to say this time. It took all of his self-control to not pick the phone up immediately. Once the update began to run, he picked up his phone, entering the world’s worst numeric passcode: 1234.

Dear God, Daniel. It’s been long enough for me to have accepted that you’re gone. But I haven’t and don’t think I ever will. I still expect to see you when I open my eyes, I still wait to hear your key in the lock, even though I have it now. I keep it in my wallet. In any case, good morning sunshine.

I miss you. So fucking much. I just want you here with me.

Still loving you,

-R

The man felt his throat constrict, but there was nothing he could do.

“Ahem.”

He lifted his eyes from the phone screen and peered over his dual monitors to meet the cool green eyes of the woman seated at the desk across from him. She broke her gaze to stare pointedly at the cellphone.

“It’s nothing,” he muttered as he guiltily placed the phone back on his desk.

“I don’t believe you, and you need to tell her,” Olivia Nevrakis snapped as her fingernails clacked against her keyboard.

The man abruptly pushed his chair back before rising from his seat. “I’m going to the bathroom,” he announced to no one.

“Need someone to hold your hand?” Rashad Domvallier asked snidely before answering a service desk call.

The man flipped Rashad the bird before exiting the office, taking care to leave his phone where it was.

 Waiting Room

Content Warning/Triggers: usage of a racial slur, graphic description

A/N: This story is a fictionalized version of historical events. It is not fanfiction, so there is no Liam here. There is no Drake, no MC, nothing Choices/PB related. I realize this a fandom, and certain content is expected, needed, wanted. Feel free to keep scrolling now.

The basis of this story has been a stain on America for 68 years and counting. No justice was ever served, no questions ever answered. The facts of the case are true, the conversations and inner thoughts are my imagination and thought processes.

On April 27, American icon Jerry Springer died; an hour later it was reported that Carolyn Bryant Donham had passed as well (official date of death for Bryant-Donham is April 25). For those who don’t know, Carolyn Bryant is the Mississippi white woman who accused Emmett Till, a 14-year-old black boy from Chicago of making lewd sexual advances towards her, resulting in the horrific torture, beating, and lynching of the teenager.

What was done to Emmett Till shocked a nation, both blacks and whites, and galvanized the Civil Rights Movement. If you wish to research Emmett Till, please do but be warned: the pictures of his face after he was fished from the Tallahatchie River (with a 75-pound cotton gin fan tied to his neck with barbed wire) are graphic and not for the faint of heart.

This story is a conversation between Carolyn Bryant and Jerry Springer as they await judgement. I think the enigma and mystery Carolyn Bryant shrouded herself in for the remainder of her life following the acquittal (by an all-white, all male jury in Sumner, Mississippi) of Till’s killers would appeal to every aspect of who Jerry Springer had been: reporter, lawyer, talk-show host.

Disclaimers/Warnings/Triggers:

·         There are racial slurs used in this story. They are not used gratuitously nor with impunity. We are hearing from a young, uneducated white woman born, bred, raised in the American south circa 1955. Jim Crow was King, segregation was the way of life, and blacks were not addressed by even their names, let alone with titles such as Mister or Miss.

·         If you don’t know, I AM a 100% black American woman who has lived over a half-century on this earth. I am neither racist nor classist, but apparently, I write one on the internet. None of these excuses the usage of slurs but may make it a little more tolerable.

·         The discussions regarding race relations, Carolyn’s accusation, and Emmett Till’s murder will be frank, raw, and to the extent I can make it, … honest.

I didn’t write this for anyone other than myself. This story will not be for everyone, and I both respect and understand the choice to pass on this.  For the few who expressed interest in reading, I appreciate you, your support, and your encouragement.

Song Inspirations:

Mississippi Goddam, Nina Simone

Daylight, David Kushner

He noticed that the air from the hallway was not fresh; it had a distinct sour stench. His nose wrinkled in response. Carolyn Bryant, who made no acknowledgement of the unwelcome odor, looked over when a voice called for her. There was no one in the doorway.

“Lyn, come on! We been waiting on you!” The voice was deep and impatient in tone.

Roy Bryant.

Carolyn rolled her eyes while exhaling a frustrated sigh. “Of course Roy would amongst the first people I see here.”

“COME ON!” Roy thundered, his voice closer. “Time to face the music, dear!” The sarcasm placed on the endearment was palatable.

Her brows furrowed in unease, the woman rose from the love seat. “I suppose this is goodbye. For now.” She extended her hand, which Jerry shook.

She turned to make her way to the door, and stumbled backwards as a strangled cry arose from her throat. A 1955-era Roy Bryant stood in the doorway, but he was different. His outfit was the same white shirt and light-colored slacks he wore during his trial, the hairs on his barreled chest and burly arms still dark and curly. But his face … held the disfigured visage of Emmett Louis Till.

Swollen. Grotesquely damaged, resembling a mutilated papier-mâché project more so than a human face.

The Emmett Till that had been pulled from the Tallahatchie River. The face that Mamie Till insisted the world see to show everyone the inhumanity that lived in the Delta of the deep south. The face that Carolyn Bryant had closed her eyes to, and her husband had proudly proclaimed to be his handiwork.

“ROY, WHAT IN THE WORLD HAPPENED TO YOU?”

Roy raised an arm to run thick fingers through the wiry stubble that haphazardly covered patches of a now pasty gray skull; he shook his head in dejected bemusement as he did so. His “eyes” met her gaze, one socket empty; it was where he and his brother JW had gouged the eye out before putting a bullet in the boy’s head. The hole left behind from the shooting was a gaping crater in what used to be skin.

The other eye was inflated shut. Swollen, discolored lips cracked apart in what passed for a smile. The mouth held no teeth; they had been either knocked out or pulled out with pliers. The gums were swollen to where it resembled caricature and caked with dried blood.

“THIS is what YOU did to me, to ALL OF US!”

“I NEVER TOUCHED THAT NIGGER BOY!” Carolyn protested as she made her way back towards Jerry Springer; the television personality deftly stepped aside. He wanted no parts of that. He had his own husband/wife confrontation to answer for.

“You didn’t have to. You weaponized me and JW to do it for you! You orchestrated this entire fiasco, Carolyn! And the biggest joke out of all of this is that boy NEVER died! WE DID! As soon as he was discovered, WE DIED, and he was catapulted into immortality! ALL BECAUSE OF YOU!”

The heated words were accompanied by snarls and growls almost animalistic in nature.

“YOU’RE A LIAR and I’m not going ANYWHERE with YOU!” Carolyn screamed as she wrapped her arms around herself.

Roy snorted derisively. “You have no choice. Now, I can’t enter the room … but others can. Speaking from experience, it’s best you escort yourself out.”

 Tagging:  @jared2612​​ @ao719​​ @marietrinmimi​​ @queenjilian​​ @indiacater​​ @kingliam2019​​ @bebepac​​ @liamxs-world​​ @mom2000aggie​​ @liamrhysstalker2020​​ ​ @twinkleallnight​​ @umccall71​​ @superharriet​​ @busywoman​​ @gabesmommie1130​​ @tessa-liam​​ @beezm​​ @gardeningourmet​​ @lovingchoices14​​ @mainstreetreader​​ @angelasscribbles​​ @lady-calypso​​ @emkay512​​ @princessleac1​​ @charlotteg234​​ @queenrileyrose​​ @alj4890​​ @yourfavaquarius111​​ @motorcitymademadame​​​ @queenmiarys​

#dcbbw writes #wips #trr/trh au fanfiction #original work #carolyn bryant #jerry springer #writer on tumblr

[angelasscribbles]

KLAW 2023 Day 1 Throwback: Mother in Law Hell

King Liam appreciation throwback

Another Drabble Me This story. This ask was fun and challenging to write while staying to true to his character because I don't see Liam discounting Riley's feelings, ever. So instead, I went at it from the angle of his propensity to see the best in those he loves, eg, giving Regina the benefit of the doubt time after time.

#KLAW #KLAW 2023 #KLAW DAY 1 #KLAW throwback #throwback #kingliamappreciationweek #king liam #liam rys #liam x riley #trr au #the royal heir #choices trh

[dia-smthidk]

what the fuck does trh stand for

Welcome to the Sona Mafia AU

#sona mafia au #dia-asks

[bebepac]

Six Sentence Sunday 09.18.22 / Mood Music Monday

In case you were wondering, I’m still around!  I know I’ve been slacking on my posting and updating on fics, but life has been coming at me fast lately and still keeps coming.  I’m glad I have some ideas bubbling, it’s just not been easy to get them down.

I will say this though,  I have been doing the choices prompts, and it’s opening up different pairings, and so far, each of the stories I’ve written for it weren’t things I was planning to do.  So here’s to opening up different pairings in my writing.  Hope you enjoy these series of one shots, who knows, they might open up to be a new series at a later date who knows!?!?!?

Here’s what I posted recently:  Part 2 of my Pretty Woman-like story  

And Everything Nice (TRR AU / Liam x Bebe / Liam x F!OC)

Original post 09.18.22  at 2:18PM EST

Mood Music Monday  Submission

Their First Loves The Book:  Rules of Engagement / TRR Crossover One Shot Pairings: Leo x Madeleine / Liam x Riley Status:  Still in the writing process

Song Inspiration:  F**K You by Lily Allen

“This isn’t working for me anymore.”’

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“This was the agreement. This has always been the agreement. Or have you forgotten?”

“I’ve forgotten nothing. But everything is different now.”

“Nothing has changed Leo. You proposed.  I accepted.  I was supposed to be Queen.   From the beginning you and I were to be paired together.“

“Madeleine, everything is different now.  I fell in love,  I’m going back to  meet the cruise in Greece at the next port they stop.  I want to be with Katie.  I have a chance for true love. I’m going to take it.  

“True love is a myth Leo.  It’s not what we do here.  You grow to love someone. That’s what we do here.”  

“It doesn’t have to be like that, people like us can have more. Don’t you want more for yourself?”

“You know what I want Leo?  I want to be Queen! I was born and bred for it.”

“Well, it won’t happen with me then. I abdicated the throne to be with her.”

“YOU WHAT! FOR WHAT?!?!?!”

“This is not the life I was meant to live Maddy, in a loveless marriage with you.”

“I AM SUPPOSED TO BE QUEEN!”  

“I don’t love you, and you don’t love me Maddy.”  

“I love Cordonia with all of my heart.”

“That may be so, but you don’t love me.”

“It’s the same thing Leo.”

“I AM NOT CORDONIA!!!! AND I DON’T WANT TO BE KING!!!!”

The Best Part

The Rotten Apple 🍎 : Chapter 15 The finale The Book:  TRH / TRF Pairings:  Eleanor x Nico / Eleanor x M!OC / Liam x Riley Status: Still in the Writing  Process

Song Inspiration: Best Part by Daniel Caesar feat H.E.R.

She glanced around the outdoor venue.  It was a beautiful intimate setup. She knew she personally had nothing to do with the setup, but she could see little hints of her own attention to detail in the decor for the day.  That was one thing she got from her.  She had been independent and had  asked for no help or financial assistance from the crown, for this day; she had made this day her own.   Eleanor has always excelled in arts and crafts, and she could tell some of the beautiful little details and arrangements were made by Eleanor herself. 

This day was very special to her.    Finally her nerves had gotten the best of her. She felt like an intruder, even though she had been invited.

“I shouldn’t have done this.  This was a huge mistake.  I don’t want to upset her.  Not today, when she’s going to be so happy. She deserves that.  I don’t want to ruin this for her.  I should leave before I’m seen.”

Riley jumped from her seat.  A few people around her glanced in her direction, but no one said anything as she wasn’t recognized wearing her veil.

Liberty grabbed her arm.  “Mother, you won’t ruin it.  Please don’t leave. It means you truly care for her if you stay.  It will mean a lot to her if she knows you stayed.  It’s a small private event on purpose. And I’m glad you took me up on my offer to be my plus one.  Father has no idea?”  

“No, we didn’t speak before he left. I suspect he was hurt and angry with me.”  

Riley resumed her seat in the corner, taking Liberty’s hand.  “What’s going on with me and your Father is not anything for you to worry about.”

“But I do worry Mother.  You and father don’t even share a bedroom anymore.  Are you getting a divorce?”  

“I don’t know.  I hope not.  I still love your father.  And I think he loves me too.”  

#bebepac writes #trr fanfic #trr fandom #choices fanfiction #the rotten apple 🍎 #rules of engagement #liam x riley #elle x nico #trr leo #trr liam #cfwc sunday six #mood music monday