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procrastinatorimagines · 2 years

Text

First Move

Fandom: Legends of Tomorrow

Series: One Shot

Pairing/s: Mick Rory x Reader

Warning/s: None

Word Count: 1011

Summary: could you do a romantic x reader christmas 🎄oneshot on Mick Rory from- DC's Legends of Tomorrow (Where sometime after the reader returned from a ski trip in New York the legends decided to relax and spend christmas at John Constantine's house...

The good thing about having a magical key that transports you to a little mansion? You can be taken there from anywhere. Skiing in New York for instance, had been made 10x better by the fact that as soon as you were done, you and the other Legends that had accompanied you had placed the key in the most convenient door you could find and suddenly you were in Constantine's house.

Wiping the snow off your coat you were grateful for the sudden warmth as you slugged off your thick, heavy boots, careful not to step your socks in any of the snow.

"Welcome back," Sara called from the landing upstairs, hair a certain kind of messy that told you she and Ava had been enjoying their Christmas break.

You'd all decided, after the disaster with a second waverider and royally screwing up history, that it was best for all of you - and, let's face it, the timeline - if you took a proper Christmas off to relax in Constantine's other dimensional house.

"Logs are on the fire and gifts are under... well, they're not under anything at the moment," Sara said as she made her way downstairs, "so tomorrow a bunch of us are going to grab a tree - Y/N you can sit this one out since you went and got all the decorations for said tree to replace the creepy and... probably haunted baubles we found in the attic."

"You won't hear me complain," you laughed, shrugging off your coat and running your hands through your tangled, windswept hair, already planning a day to read, bake, and unwind completely.

When the others had finally left for the day - Zari and Constantine out god knows where and the rest to grab the biggest tree they would find - you were left with the place nearly all to yourself, save for Mick, who had grumbled about taking time for his favourite Christmas tradition - drinking in peace.

Curled up in a chair close to the first with a blanket, cushions, a hot drink and a good book, you sighed and settled in.

An hour or so later you head footsteps heading in, glancing over the back of the chair to see Mick enter.

"Hey," you said lazily, the warm fire and drink making you sleepy.

He nodded in his usual way in response and took a seat on the couch near your seat. "What're you reading?" He asked, trying to read to cover from where you both sat. You slid your bookmark in your page and showed him. He nodded, again, seemingly in approval.

"Not bad, not her best, but not her worst," he commented, getting your full attention now. You sat up at bit in your seat and stretched out your limbs like a cat, aching from all the time you'd spent in the same position.

Mick watched you wordlessly. "She's not Rebecca Silver huh?" You smirked.

"Not even close," Mick chuckled lightly, settling in to his seat.

"Is the ending as predictable as I think it is?" You asked, lifting the book slightly to show him what you meant.

"You mean cheesy and Hallmark worthy?" He replied, "absolutely."

You both laughed and you placed the book on the arm of the chair. "Yeah I thought as much."

"You got anything else planned today?" Mick asked. He didn't usually take such an interest, but you didn't mind.

"Thinking of backing some Christmas cookies in a bit," you answered, checking the time, "hopefully they'll be cooling by the time the others get back.

"I could... give you a hand if you want," he offered, much to your surprise. You did your best to hide said surprise, smiling at his generous offer and nodding.

"Let's do it." You stood up, shivering as you removed your blanket and heading towards the kitchen, Mick following behind.

You made small talk as you baked the Christmas cookies, mostly in the realm of you showing Mick how it was done, and laughing as he attempted to decorate said cookies once they were done.

"This is stupid," Mick grumbled, accidentally decapitating a gingerbread man as he tried to spread some coloured icing on top with too much force.

"Oops," you laughed, taking some of the icing from Mick as he threw the knife down in frustration, looking a little embarrassed that he couldn't get it right.

"It's not big deal, see," you covered both parts of the severed neck with icing and glued them back together. "There, now he looks like he has a scarf on."

"I'm useless at this," Mick grumbled.

"So maybe decorating isn't your speciality, I guarentee they'll taste good either way," you reassured him. "Why did you offer to do this with me anyway?" It had been fun, baking with Mick, but for the life of you you couldn't figure out why he'd decided to join you in the first place.

"I guess I erm," he stumbled for an explanation, ears going red. Was he... nervous? But what would he be nervous about?

"Mick-" You began, confused, when he cut you off.

"Ah to hell with it," he decided, one hand on your waist and one on the side of your head as he surprised you with a kiss.

"Oh," you blinked when he drew back, a slight noise from above you causing you to glance up to see mistletoe growing from the ceiling above you. Constantine and his magic house.

"I like you, okay, genuinely, and I've been trying to figure out how to tell you," he gestured around with his hands, full face red now.

You didn't know what to say so you kissed him back instead, something he had half not been expecting. When you both finally parted he looked pleased, even more so when you smiled at him.

"You want to go watch a movie?" He asked, not really knowing where to go from there.

"Only if there's hot chocolate," you replied.

"It's a date," he grinned, realising what he had said.

"Yeah, it is."

#mick rory #legends of tomorrow #dcs legends of tomorrow #mick rory imagine #legends of tomorrow imagine #mick rory imagines #legends of tomorrow imagines #mick rory one shot #legends of tomorrow one shot #dcs legends of tomorrow one shot #one shot

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jovialyouthmusic · 3 years

Text

A Lythikan Liaison

After the death of Jackson Walker, the young King’s Guardsman Bastien Lykel accompanies the Royal family to Lythikos in mid December.

Word Count 3517

Absolutely NS*W and NO UNDER 18s

Pairing; Bastein Lykel and OC

1 At a Loose End

Bastien Lykel stamped his feet to dislodge the packed snow from his boots as he entered the staff quarters at Lythikos Lodge. The Royal family was spending some time before Christmas in the duchy and taking young Olivia back to the Palace for the festivities. It meant half of the King’s guard, recently deprived of its popular captain, Jackson Walker, travelled with the King and his two sons. Bastien had been Jackson’s protege, and the new Captain had his own favourite, so his duties had diminished somewhat. Bianca, Drake and Savannah had remained at the Palace, as Bianca didn’t seem to have the will or desire to uproot the bereaved children from their home, despite the attractions of skating and building snowmen. To be truthful, it was dubious as to whether the family would stay in Cordonia, and Bastien thought it likely that they would return to Texas.

So he had leisure time that he barely knew how to spend, as his shift was over and Captain Parker had told him he wouldn’t be needed until the return journey. He wondered why he’d been brought along at all, knowing that his time would have been better spent supporting the Walker family. He suspected that Constantine wanted him to cut his ties with them in order to concentrate on his job. But if that was the case, Parker should be keeping him busy, not laying him off.

He sighed as he took his coat off and hung it where the snowflakes would evaporate in the warm air of the entrance hall. He went to the canteen and took a bowl of stew and a crust of warm bread to a table looking out over the frozen lake. A few of the Lodge staff were also eating their evening meal but left him alone, which suited him fine. The Lythikans knew how to make good hearty food, he’d give them that. He disliked their spiced drinks and the nog turned his stomach, but the red wine was robust and strong and the beer was tolerable in moderation.

He refused the hard spiced cookies that were handed out from table to table by a dour serving woman who leered at him and winked broadly, asking if he wanted someone to warm his bed for him or if he preferred a hot water bottle. Her tone made it plain that such a device was only for weaklings and children. He glared at her and replied he was perfectly capable of making his own arrangements and made his way to the bar, where a few of his fellow guards sat drinking. Lewis sat alone at a table at the edge of the room, able to see all that went on, as a good guard should. Bastien went over to join him, seeing his glass was almost empty.

‘Hey Bas, how are you holding up?’ Lewis asked. The two men had joined the Guard in the same intake, and had helped each other through some of the more arduous training exercises. Bastien had finished top of his year with Lewis a close second, and the two men had formed a strong bond.

‘I’d be just fine if Parker gave me more to do’ he grumbled ‘I’d far rather be working than told to go and relax.’ He eyed his companion’s glass of Skullcracker ale, making a resolution to have no more than two pints himself before he went back to his tiny room. He may not be working the next morning, but he could do without the crashing hangover Lythican alcohol gave him nonetheless.

‘Sleeping okay?’ Lewis knew that Bastien suffered flashbacks from the assassination attempt that had taken his mentor’s life. Bastien shrugged.

‘A little better’ he admitted ‘It’s too cold to get up and wander around so at least I stay in my bed until breakfast’

‘I wouldn’t admit the cold to the natives’ Lewis said in an undertone ‘They make them hardy out here. It’s only been a decade or so since they stopped putting newborns out in the snow to test how strong they are.’ Bastien snorted

‘It’s rumours like that which keep relations between Lythikos and the rest of Cordonia at an ‘us and them’ level.’ Lewis shook his head and drained his glass of ale.

‘Don’t look now, but those two over by the bar have been eyeing us up since you came in’ Lewis said with an almost imperceptible nod. As he had said, two women were looking in their direction, no subterfuge in their appraisal of the King’s men. They were both well built, one of them taller, close to Bastien’s six foot four inches and had pale skin and rich auburn hair.

‘I’ve already been offered a bed warmer, maybe I should take one of them up on it and get it over with’ Bastien mused.

‘You know what Lythicans are like, you’ll be in for a hard ride’ Lewis warned him. He handed his glass to Bastien, who stood up to go and order ale.

‘I’ve not much better to do’ he said ‘I should make the most of my down time’ He strode to the bar and put the glass down. The bartender raised his eyebrows at him.

‘Another pint of Skullcracker and whatever these two are having’ he nodded at the two women. The taller one held eye contact as she replied.

‘Are you sure you can handle that ale, King’s man?’ she asked ‘Most foreigners find just the one enough to send them to their knees’

‘Foreign? I’m Cordonian just like I presume you are’ he replied ‘Or are you claiming Lythikos is independent of the Crown?’ She frowned

‘Last I heard, Constantine insisted he’s King, and Duchess Lucretia hasn’t made a counter claim. Yet. And we call any non Lythican foreign, even if they come from the next village outside the duchy boundary.’ she replied acidly, but indicated to the barman that she’d accept Bastien’s offer. The other woman took two glasses of ale and went to join Lewis at his table.

‘So what part of Cordonia do you hail from, King’s man?’ she asked, as she took a healthy gulp of the ale that made Bastien hope he could match her without invoking the hangover.

‘My family comes from the capitol’ he said.

‘Oh yes, and what name do you go by?’

‘Lykel. Bastien Lykel’ She pursed her lips and nodded

‘A distinguished name. You might have a claim to the throne yourself if you can prove your lineage.’

‘Power doesn’t interest me’ he said, shaking his head ‘Attending banquets and balls and talking to trade delegates isn’t my idea of a fulfilling lifestyle’ He took a gulp of the thick ale. ‘I take it you’re Lythican?’

‘Naturally. The name’s Marcia. Marcia Wolfsbane’

‘That’s a fine surname too. Have you got links to the Nevrakis?’

‘Only in service, but then doesn’t most of the duchy?’

‘What do you do for a living?’ he asked curiously, and she laughed out loud, slapping her palm on the bar.

‘Can’t you tell? I’m in the same line of business as yourself. I’m part of the Lythican Guard. I saw you and your friend arrive with the Royal family’ She grinned at having bested him. Taking another swig from her glass, she nodded at him appraisingly, her gaze raking him from head to toe ‘You want to come back to my place and fuck?’ she asked. Bastien swiftly got over his chagrin at missing her occupation and gave her a slow smile. He liked directness, it left no room for misinterpretation and he was relieved that she wasn’t interested in drinking herself into a stupor. It had been a while since he’d had anything but brief encounters and wondered if this would be more than a one night stand. It wasn’t important, his job didn’t allow for romantic commitment although Lewis had a steady partner.

‘Sure, why not. Let me finish this first’ he replied.

------

Ten minutes later he found himself walking beside the tall woman along the narrow streets of the town that served the lodge and ski slopes. The Lythicans had found there was money to be made from winter sports in peace time and had spared no expense setting up resorts in the hills. Between the low log cabins the snow turned to slush underfoot and he was thankful for his good leather boots and thick socks that kept out the cold and wet.

‘You do realise that a couple of decades ago you wouldn’t have dared to be alone with the likes of me?’ she pointed out ‘Thank goodness for peacetime’

‘I like to think I’m a good judge of character’ he replied. ‘It’s my job to assess dangerous situations’ They trudged on for a while, passing other Lythicans walking to and fro in the darkening early evening.

‘Is it true you use those new tracking devices to keep tabs on each other?’ she asked curiously.

‘I wouldn’t tell you if we did.’ He said shortly. She turned down a dim side street which struck him as the sort of place that unwary travellers might be lured before being relieved of their valuables. Warily he scanned the shadows for lurkers as she strode on.

‘My home’s just down here, King’s man. I share the cabin with my friend back at the bar when we’re off the duty rotation. She’ll leave us alone for the night so you won’t have to worry about disturbing anyone.’

‘Does that depend on the willingness of my partner?’ he asked ‘He’s in a relationship, I’m not sure that he’ll bite’ Marcia shrugged as she stopped at one of the almost identical cabins and put her hand to the door. Bastien noted that it wasn’t locked, a sign either that there was no crime in the town, or that nobody would dare take anything from the occupants.

‘She’ll find someone or somewhere else’ The door swung open and she beckoned him in. ‘Boots off’ she ordered. Bastien bent to unfasten them and left them by the door next to hers and shrugged off his thick coat. The cabin was cool and smelled of spice and pine. She had already hung up her own coat and disappeared through a door off the lobby. He followed to find her kneeling by a wood burner setting a match to it. It took easily and the room was soon warming up.

‘You’ll take a hot drink?’ she asked

‘Only if it’s not spiced’ he replied ‘I prefer my drinks plain.’ She laughed

‘You’re missing out, King’s man’ she exclaimed ‘They warm the blood and heighten the senses’

‘No good if my stomach’s turned’ he said sourly ‘A nip of whiskey does the job very nicely’

‘In that case, hot chocolate with a dash of brandy. No spice’

‘That would be very welcome’ She disappeared, and he took stock of the room. He knew that the town was relatively new, extended to service the ski slopes, and the few traditional buildings were at the centre of the town, and here on the outskirts the buildings were less than five years old. The cabin walls were of dark logs that gave a sense of warmth, and the check curtains were thick and heavy. The furniture was mostly dark stained pine, modern but utilitarian. The couch and chairs were draped in woollen throws, the wooden floor augmented by thick rugs. Red was the predominant colour with accents of green and splashes of golden yellow. Shelves held books and trophies, and he went closer to examine the gleaming silver. Marcia re entered the room with two mugs. He turned to take his, nodding toward the trophies.

‘You have a lot of awards for markmanship’ he observed. She shrugged as he blew on his mug to cool the hot chocolate, plain as she had promised with no scent of spice and no cream, but an aroma of good brandy rose to his nostrils. He took a sip and felt it beginning to warm him from the inside.

‘I have plenty of time to practice, and the hunting in the woods is good’ She put her drink down and took the hem of her woollen jumper, pulling it up off and throwing it onto the couch, with a sigh that indicated that she was hot. She still wore a simple blouse and under vest and was well built, solid and muscular but with enough womanly curves to stir his desire. He knew Lythicans were hot blooded and very active in the bedroom with a casual attitude toward the number of partners they had at any one time, so he had come prepared with protection. Nonetheless, he had a question for her.

‘Are you currently in a relationship?’ he asked. She looked at him over her cup, her piercing blue eyes locking with his grey.

‘Only with my housemate. Are you?’

‘No, but I don’t want to cause any conflict’

‘You won’t’ she said ‘There’s nothing complicated about this unless you want it to be’

‘No, simple suits me just fine’ She put her cup down and moved closer.

‘You have milk on your moustache’ she said huskily, and leaned in to suck at his top lip. He groped to put his mug down on the table next to him, returning the kiss and putting his hand to the back of her neck.

‘Your hair is too long’ she said, reaching up to his forehead, but he gripped her wrist before she could touch it. She bit her lip ‘Someone could twist their fingers into it and control you’ Bastien realised with a flash why all the Lythican guard, male and female, had short cropped hair. He took a pride in his appearance, and his raven black hair was his weakness, always glossy and impeccably styled.

‘They’d have to get close enough to start with, and a good wrist lock would solve the problem even then’ He twisted her wrist to demonstrate, just until he saw her grimace, and let go. She knew her stuff, and it was refreshing to connect with someone so tuned in to his own profession. Truth be told, it was more of a lifestyle than a job. He hoped they could trade work experiences without compromising any confidential information.

But at that moment there was something more primal at hand, something basic and physical that stirred and aroused him. He was always holding himself back, keeping something in reserve, and he guessed that he could let go with her, be himself in a way he couldn’t with anyone else he’d encountered so far. She pushed him back and they stumbled to the couch. A split second decision allowed her to push him down and follow so that she was straddling him, triggering his arousal as her thighs clamped to his. Again she reached for his hair and he countered, pinning her wrists behind her back. Still she surged forward, her breasts pressing to his chest, her lips crashing to his. She lost her balance, allowing him to pivot so that she was the one sitting on the couch. He braced his knee between her thighs, letting go of her wrists. She put her palms to his chest, keeping him from leaning in to claim her lips.

‘One of us has to yield’ he panted.

‘The stronger the fight, the sweeter the surrender’ she growled, and bucked forward pushing him onto the floor. He landed on his back, the thick woollen rug cushioning his fall as she followed him down. He fought back, and they rolled around on the floor, neither giving in until they paused, both panting with exertion, Bastien on top but bracing his weight off her, elbows locked.

He straddled her, pinning her hips down and straightened up to take his sweater and shirt off, warmed through at last from their battle for supremacy. Her eyes blackened as she gazed at his broad muscled chest and flat abdomen scattered with dark hair. Again she bucked and threw him off, mirroring his effort by pinning him to the floor and stripping to the waist before falling on him and delivering scorching kisses and little nips along his neck to his shoulder. Her breasts were small and firm despite her stature, her belly soft but flat, and he was hard between her thighs. They rolled around the floor managing somehow to assist each other to strip naked and end up side by side, her thigh thrown over his hip, breathing hard. She reached down to judge his size with fingers and palm, and a slow smile spread across her face.

‘You are big in every way, Bastien Lykel.’ she murmured appreciatively. ‘I knew there was something about you worth pursuing’ Despite the woollen rugs and the heat of the wood burner the floor was hard and cold and he was grateful as she rose and pulled him to his feet, guiding him with purposeful stride to her bedroom. It was cool but she threw back the bedclothes to drag him on top of her, sinking into the firm mattress and spreading her thighs for him. She rose to sink her teeth into his shoulder and clawed at his back. With an inhuman effort he drew back from her, not quite lost yet.

‘I have – we need protection’ he panted.

‘In the bedside drawer’ she groaned ‘Hurry, I’ve not bedded a man for months’ He fumbled in the drawer and found a foil packet, tearing it open and hoping it was large enough for his girth. He was in luck, and rolled the rubber sheath over his length without discomfort. She pushed him over onto his back and mounted him like an animal, pressing her sex to him before guiding him where she needed him and he placed his hands on her hips, trusting that she knew what she was letting herself in for. She groaned as she started to lower herself onto him, alarmingly tight, but she was wet and the noises she made assured him that pain and pleasure were inseparable for her.

Soon she sat flush to him and rolled her hips, rising up above him and throwing her head back with a guttural cry before leaning forward to bury her face in his between his neck and shoulder, sucking and biting. What they did in that bed bordered on fighting as they wrestled for dominance, rolling over, tangling in the bedclothes, settling into a fierce steady rhythm that challenged the strength of the bedframe. Bastien realised that she could take anything he gave her, and savagely thrust into her willing flesh, pinning her hands above her head until she arched her back and gave out a loud ululating cry. He felt her pulse around him, and with a roar he followed her over the edge until they lay spent and panting, and he rolled off her to the side.

‘Are you sure you’re not from Lythikos?’ she panted as he cleaned himself up.

‘I may have some ancestors somewhere along the line’ he remarked. He went to the bedroom door.

‘You can stay the night if you like’ she said from the tangle of bedclothes. He paused in thought. He could remember his way back to his billet but was reluctant to dress and go out into the cold.

‘That’s generous of you. I need to get my clothes and fold them’ When he returned, she had straightened the blankets and thrown them back for him, a naked leg uncovered. He got in and lay on his back. He wasn’t a cuddler and the bed was wide. She seemed to understand, and curled into herself on her side of the bed.

‘When are you on duty?’ she asked

‘Not until we leave’ he replied ‘My superior seems to think I need down time, but I’d rather be busy’

‘I heard about Walker’ she replied, and he gritted his teeth.

‘I was there’ he said shortly, feeling himself tense at the memory.

‘He sounded like a good man. I never met him’

‘And you never will’ he turned his back to her.

‘I’m sorry for your loss’ she said quietly. ‘That was insensitive of me.’ He snorted, biting back resentful words. He felt her hand on his shoulder. ‘I’m off duty tomorrow as well. If you like, you could come hunting with me’ Her hand fell away. ‘If you look outside the back you’ll see the green and the communal cookfire. All the cabins that back onto it contribute – either with meat or vegetables, or by cooking. I need to make my donation’

‘I’ll think about it’ He was tired – tired of the flashbacks, tired of grieving, tired of worrying about the Walker family, and now from the physical exertion he had just undergone. He felt the comfortable glow of his release, and that and the brandy lured him closer to the edge of sleep. He felt his eyelids grow heavy. His companion was silent, and he surrendered to the dark comfort of slumber.

@sirbeepsalot @stopforamoment @drakesensworld @katedrakeohd @texaskitten30 @be-still-my-aching-heart @hopefulmoonobject @dcbbw @classylady1234 @rainbowsinthestorm @kimmiedoo5 @bascmve01 @ibldw-main @addictedtodrakefanfic @trappedinfandoms @fluffyfirewhiskey @kingliam2019 @bobasheebaby @marshmallowsaremyfavorite

#bastien lykel #Bastien x OC #trr bastien #lythikos

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cordonian-literature · 3 years

Text

wip wednesday :)

hi y’all so i wasn’t tagged (whoops broke the rules) and it’s still kinda early in the day but i wanted to make this post because i’ve been working on a few other fics and wanted to share :)

i’ve been finishing up Aftermath - the reason it’s taking me so long to post chapters is because i initially had a very sad ending planned. i weeped when i was rereading it because i’ve gotten emotionally attached to the characters (what a surprise) and am now rewriting a happier ending. i think there’s like... 3 chapters left (don’t quote me on that, i’m a mess and it could change, but its unlikely).

there’s also two other fic ideas that i had. the first one kinda throws canon out the window - but there are still some elements, like Bertrand and Savannah’s relationship (though it’s extremely altered), the assassination with Olivia’s parents, Godfrey & Barthelemy’s treason... it’s just changed, like Queen Eleanor’s story is different, Leo doesn’t abdicate, Liam and Drake never really became best friends, and MC (Klara/Claire Brooks) leads a double life, keeping both men (and families) away from each other

the second one throws TRH 3 in the trash (even though it already is kinda trash, haha). this would take place during the last chapter of TRH 2 and throw the whole vote stuff out the window - because the farther we go with that, the less it makes sense. basically, Auvernal kidnaps the heir, Barthelemy is involved in it, and Liam and MC (i’m keeping her as Riley Brooks for this one) along with the gang do everything they can to get her back (obviously why wouldn’t they). i thought it would be interesting putting a part of it in the heir’s point of view, since those were kinda funny in some of the recent chapters. nothing too dark or serious (i mean yeah the heir getting kidnapped is serious, but you know what i mean. besides that, there are no major trigger warnings)

both these fics will most likely flop, but i had fun with these ideas and wanted to share

so here we go

✦✧✦✧✦

The Aftermath - Chapter 32

When Bastien enters, his eyes widen as they rest on Boris. He gives Olivia a look.

“Drake,” she tells him, hoping that would be enough of an answer. Bastien frowns. Olivia didn’t know why Drake had done this either. The fool hadn’t given her any information as to what this man had done. Where was she even supposed to start?

Now she was really wishing she had called Jacob to give her a background check.

“So,” she begins, pacing in front of Boris. Bastien was at full attention, closely watching both of them. “What happened between you and Drake?”

Boris spits blood to the opposite side of the room. It drips down the wall. “Call the bastard in here. Tell him to explain.” His accent is thick and his voice is tried.

I probably should, she thinks to herself.

Bastien gives Olivia another look. She nods at him.

“Let us shift the conversation,” Bastien begins. “Can I ask how long you’ve known Lady Riley or her late husband?”

“How is that important?” Boris questions.

“Just curious.” Bastien’s voice remains level.

Boris sighs, then leans back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling. “Potter. I met him in college. He introduced me to Riley-”

“I’m sorry,” Bastien interrupts him. “Who is ‘Potter’?”

“The lovely Theodore Blaise.” Boris lets out a rueful chuckle. “You have not seen him in person? The idiot looks like Harry Potter. Stupid glasses, stupid hair.”

“Alright,” Bastien stops him again. “Continue. When did he introduce you to Riley?”

“New York. That one year. I was visiting before I had to go to... Switzerland? Sweden? One of the two. It was lifetime ago. Can’t remember everything.” He pauses to look around the room. “She was... with your King. We saw her in the park. Theo wanted to see her. We waited for the king to leave her before he went up to her hotel.”

Olivia knew that he was talking about the last night Riley had been with the court. But Boris was drawing out the conversation. She didn’t like how slow Bastien was approaching this. Olivia wanted to draw a knife — she had a new one she was itching to use — and force the answers out of him.

✦✧✦✧✦

Until the End - Prologue

A/N: also i made a thing for this series. it’s not a moodboard. idk what its called. like a banner or whatever? i felt creative and made it. i’ll probably end up making a moodboard too. there are three parts of the series, each part has seven/eight chapters. anyway this looks kinda wack i might not even use it

As we near the stairs, Olivia Nevrakis chases after Maxwell Beaumont, who tumbles down the steps.

“Why are you running?!” Olivia cries after the boy, a long object in her hand.

“Because you have a stick!” he cries after almost tripping over his short, chubby legs.

“What am I gonna do, hit you with it?”

“YES?!” Maxwell screams, a confused and fearful tone in his voice.

As the two reach the bottom of the stairs, Liam emerges from another corridor, laughing after his friends. His hair is a whorl on his head, and his cheeks are flushed pink.

“Hello, Mother!” he says. My son hugs my waist, then reaches to hug his father, but Constantine has already walked on.

I take the boy’s hand and we follow after the King. Near the entrance of the palace stands a man in guard’s uniform, a woman in a denim dress, and two small children.

“Eleanor, Liam,” Constantine begins. “I would like for you two to be introduced to a new member of our security team. Jackson Walker, his wife Bianca, and their children, Drake and Savannah.”

“A pleasure, Your Majesties,” Jackson says as he and his wife bow respectfully. The little girl blinks up at me while Drake looks between Liam and I.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Liam!” My son holds out his hand to Drake.

Constantine audibly coughs. Liam’s hand falls to his side, and his smile falls as well. I knew that the differences in status would not allow Liam to interact with the boy so improperly, but they are just children. I didn’t think there was a reason for such excessive formality.

Bianca slightly nudges her son. In a monotone voice, Drake greets, “Nice to meet you, Prince Liam.”

Liam’s expression lifts. I send a smile in Bianca’s direction, and she hesitantly returns it. Jackson holds eye contact with me a moment longer, a wide grin stretching his face.

Constantine grabs our attention again. “Jackson, you will be primarily working on my wife’s security team. Now if you’ll excuse us, we are expected at dinner. My head of security, Bastien, will lead you through the rest of your orientation. After dinner, you’ll be able to speak to my wife and receive any orders she has for you.”

“Yes, Sire,” Jackson bows his head again, and Constantine leads us away.

Godfrey and his family, along with the Beaumonts, Olivia, and Leo are already seated. They all stand quickly as Constantine comes into the room, giving polite bows.

The moment we sit, there’s a flurry of activity as the servants set our plates in front of us. Adelaide sips on her wine absently. Annabelle fusses over Maxwell, who has cookie crumbs on his fingers and face. Madeleine attempts to get Leo’s attention, but he laughs with Bertrand, the boys giving each other impish smiles. Olivia converses with Liam, taking on a gentle demeanor compared to how she behaved with Maxwell.

“Hostilities between Monterisso and Auvernal are increasing by the day,” I hear Godfrey mention to Constantine.

“The whole of Europe expects them to break out in war,” Barthelemy adds.

“Monterissian and Auvernese citizens anticipate some sort of peace treaty,” Godfrey continues. The men speak as if they are one unit, with one mind. “But other nations have already begun taking sides.”

“The King of Hidar is siding with Monterisso.” Barthelemy motions for a servant to bring him more wine. “But there are rumors that he is only doing so after receiving threats.”

“Most nations are waiting for Cordonia and Monaco for their decisions for who to ally with.”

When Barthelemy and Godfrey finish filling Constantine’s ears, they return to the food on their plates, staring down as if nothing else in the world concerned them. Constantine chews slowly, visibly considering their words.

“Monterisso has always kept a neutral face when it comes to Cordonian issues,” the King mentions. “They have never asked or hinted towards alliance. They are not many nations who ally with them at all.”

“So you must admit,” Barthelemy finishes chewing, “that allying with them instead of Auvernal makes a bad impression—”

“—and reduces the chance of alliances with other nations,” Godfrey finishes with him.

“How so?” I speak up. The three men turn their heads to look at me. No one else at the table pays attention to the conversation, but as their eyes burn in my direction — aggressive looks from the Dukes, while my husband raises an eyebrow at me — I want to take back my words.

But I do no such thing. After more than seven years of marriage, I had become accustomed to Godfrey and Barthelmey shutting down the advice I gave to my husband. This instance is no different.

✦✧✦✧✦

The Lion and the Heir - short series - Prologue

A/N: just as a heads up, i laughed while writing this. like i wrote this just for a good laugh and wanted to share. my friend sent me a writing prompt about a kid’s wild imagination and she thought it was funny and sent it to me (i sent her this same passage and we both laughed our heads off reading parts of it) so what i’m trying to say is that thinking this is terrible and cringe-worthy is understandable - i cringed at this myself and am very scared to post this lol, and might not even continue it. yes i made a moodboard thing. yes i laughed while making it. goodbye.

"Is everything well, Mommy?" I ask. Instead of answering me, again she attempts to silence me! I repeat my question, but this time the man tells me to silent myself.

Did they not know who they were speaking to? Perhaps I was interrupting something. Was there a lesson to be learned somewhere in this? I wish that Daddy were present at this meeting. Though most of his explanations were gibberish, he would at least attempt to make me understand.

The man walks towards me. He reaches his hands out to carry me, but I do not know this man! And he was quite stinky! I do not like him. I smack his hands away, and he takes a step back.

"With all due respect," I try to explain to him, "please introduce yourself before any forward actions. They are most unwelcoming. Your Princess does not appreciate this behavior."

He turns to my suspicious mother and says something in gibberish. I frown, for the language barrier does not mean that my subjects may disobey my wishes in such a manner!

Suspicious Mommy takes off the shield that was over her eyes. I find that it is NOT Mommy! Though they look similar, their differences are too contrasting. This woman's eyes were a tad sharper. She was too aware of me, and did not seem comfortable in my presence.

"Shhh sh shhh," she goes again, trying to pick me up, but I allow my short legs to fall from under me. My behind hits the mattress, and I feel my friend, General Lion, against my hand.

"Is everything well, Your Highness?" my trusty General says to me. "Is there anything I can do to be of service?"

"Dismiss this woman from my presence!" I command him.

"But... but that is Mommy!" he cries.

This woman was good in her disguise. She had fooled my trusted advisor!

"Believe me, General, it is not!" I tell him. "She has fooled us!"

"And she is trying to take you away?" he observes.

"Yes!" I am suddenly aware of what is happening. The woman begins to reach for me. "Quick!" I say, panic swelling in my chest. I had to do something about this, but all my heart is telling me to do is cry! I have to take more serious measures than that! "What am I to do?"

"Uh... uh..." General Lion looks around the crib, before he reaches out to me. "Take a hold of my paw!"

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

putting my Aftermath taglist because that’s the only one i have :) - y’all can see what’s happening in the next chapter & these other fics. if you’re interested in any (besides Aftermath) let me know! if you don’t interact or anything, i’ll leave you on the Aftermath taglist and won’t remove or add you anywhere :)

(also, people probably know this but just a gentle reminder, the only reason i don’t reply to comments is because this is a sideblog. i see them all though, so don’t worry. i just don’t want to confuse people by replying from my main blog or anything :) anyway let me stop trailing off)

@captain-kingliamsqueen @gkittylove99 @lovablegranny @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @mom2000aggie @kingliam2019 @queenrileyrose @shanzay44 @cordonianroyalty @hopefulmoonobject @hopelessromanticmonie @twinkle-320 @amandablink @texaskitten30 @pens-girl-87 @ladyangel70 @sanchita012 @cordonianprincess @cordonia-gothqueen @pink-diamond13 @queenwalton @yourmajesty09 @alj4890 @choicesbutterfly

^if anyone from this list wants to do the WIP Wednesday thing, feel free!!

#trr fanfic #wips

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stvlti · 3 years

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2020 Creator Wrap

I was tagged by @irolltwenties to do the 2020 Creator Wrap: Favorite Works tag! Thank you, lovely (*˘ ε ˘*)

Rules: it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 (or so) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought to the world in 2020. tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

Before I begin, let me just tag some friends:

@reaperlight @3dnygma @drowthelynes @transdankovsky @fantomn @lawliyeeeet @dressed-to-keehl @setfa @0akdown @reidsnor @clubolive @mermaides

No pressure, but it would be fun if you guys share some of your works this year ( ˘︶˘ ) let’s see those fics and edits and artworks!! Get the clicks and views y’all deserve 💕 💕

And now, onwards to my 2020 Favorite Works List!

I didn’t write nearly as much as some of you guys did. And though I did exceed my goal of putting out 1 fic per month, I don’t have 5 solid ones I’m proud of. So I’ll just list 4 fics here:

01 // Growing Pains

I’ve always been very nervous about reccing this one, because it broaches a topic that I don’t really have a right to claim? I’m not transgender myself, but I simply adore the trans Dick Grayson headcanon so much it singlehandedly brought me back to the DC fandom and restarted my fanfic-writing habit for 2020 😂😂 plus the writing quality isn’t half bad, and I still really like the idea/metaphor this little story started with and grew from.

Fave moment (besides the obvious):

"Ka-Pow!!" The boy ventriloquised. Lego Robin sailed through the air in his fingers. One stubby, outstretched leg made contact with a Lego henchman, knocking all the surrounding baddies over like bowling pins. "Sorry Mr. Bad Guys, guess it's way past your bedtime too!"

"Good job, Robin." The boy lowered his prepubescent voice and tried to affect Batman's gravelly timbre as much as possible. In his other hand, he walked Lego Batman across the floor of the crime scene. "How about we round them up and leave it for the Commish? It's getting quite late."

"Oh oh! Can I have cookies on the ride back?"

The boy swivelled Lego Batman's grinning face around. "I don't see why not."

Another night out in Lego Gotham City, another day saved by the Dynamic Duo. This called for a celebration indeed. The boy set the pair of heroes down by the Lego Batmobile and reached over to his own plate of Alfred's after-school chocolate chip cookies. He took his sweet time with the last piece, savouring each bite, sighing at the way it melted on his tongue.

02 // Transference

This is my best-performing fic in terms of the kudos to hits ratio, so I feel validated in being proud of this one :’) It’s a pretty good marker of the distances I’ve covered since getting serious about reading the comic source material end of 2019, as you can see from the much broader and varied cast of characters I focused on for this story. It also definitely cemented - to me, at least - the fact that I can write action scenes. When I went into “Second Chances” (a fem Jay fic) earlier this year, I was so nervous about writing the action sequence there, because I’ve never written a serious action scene up until that point! To me, this fic definitely showcases the growth I’ve experienced as a writer this year ^_^

Fave moment: (CONTAINS SPOILERS, PLEASE READ THE FIC FIRST IF YOU HAVEN’T!)

When the trio return, Ivy takes her place at the meeting table with a severe expression on her face. She chooses her words carefully, when she speaks. "The odds aren't pretty. We just accepted 100 refugees over the weekend, and the Green is still repairing itself after last week's attack."

Rose exchanges a glance with Jason. He gives her hand a reassuring squeeze, though he's not looking any better than she feels.

"But, each and everyone of us stayed behind to defend the Garden, because we all believed in giving a sanctuary for the civilian survivors out there.

"So bring them here. I'll take them in."

No sooner has Ivy finished the sentence, than Zatanna and Constantine have fired up their teleportation portal, and Harley's cheerful "Good luck!" is lost to the mad dash off to the rescue mission. The rest of the Shadowpact scramble after Rose as she launches herself through the portal—

—and slams into Arsenal, pushing him out of the way seconds before a meteoric explosion of green fire incinerates the very spot he'd been standing in.

03 // Paying It Forward

This one is important to me if only for the reason that it’s the first time I’ve written character dialogues that flowed. And I didn’t even need to plan them out meticulously beforehand! Do you know how rare that is for me as an ESL writer? Dialogues have been the bane of my existence since I started writing as a wee teen. Luckily, the Titans TV show has some solid character dynamics for me to fall back on. And from there I started reading NTT era Dick & Donna, and I just fell in love with their friendship. And now, I can turn to this fic as proof I still got it whenever I doubt my abilities as a writer c:

Fave moment:

Dick glanced at her, eyebrows raised. "She ran out on you?"

"No, no, we never really... I don't think it counts as running away if it never led to anything more."

"But you wanted it to be more." Dick paused, taking in Donna's silence, which would've fooled anyone else but him. "You still want it."

"I-- yeah." Donna sighed and held her hands up as if to say you caught me. "I'm... Sorry? For stealing your girl?"

Dick laughed, bemused. "She was never mine. She knew what she wanted, what she needed - and I wasn't in the right place to give her that."

"And you? You think I'm what she needs?"

"Better you than me. You're Donna Troy. Older, smarter, prettier..."

Donna gave him a deadpan stare.

"... And you know who you want to be. She likes that in a partner. I'm still figuring that one out for myself." Dick stretched his arms up and then leaned back into his seat, lacing his fingers behind his head as he stared up into the ceiling.

04 // When I'm down on my knees, you're how I pray

I’m including this one just to showcase I got the range, babey. And honestly, the fact that I was able to write this fic and actually receive positive reviews for it was a surprise to me too!! This was the first time I ever attempted to write a real darkfic with dead dove subject matters, and I managed to nail the emotional manipulation, somehow ;__; It was a real learning experience too, learnt so much about Catholicism just to write about Dick’s guilt issues in an AU setting nobody asked for 🤡

Fave moment: (dead dove warnings apply)

"Not at all, Richard," Roman said. The boy would come to him, eventually. "Now, it's getting late. If that's all, I'll have Jason fetch your room keys. Seven Hail Mary's before bed, and think about everything we've just discussed. Tomorrow we'll do a proper debriefing."

"I... Okay." For a moment, Dick sounded like he had more to say. Instead, Roman heard a muffled sniffle, one that Dick likely tried to disguise with a hand over his mouth. Silly boy.

"Thank you again, Father," Dick said, after a beat.

"All in a day's work, my child." Roman unlatched the door and stepped out of the booth. He nodded at Dick as the younger man ambled out of the booth after him. "Goodnight now, Richard."

As he set off for the living quarters, Dick called out. "Wait!"

Roman turned around, inclining his head.

"Will you stay?" The candlelight chased shadows away from Dick's face, and for one glorious moment, Roman could see the depth of the desperation shining in Dick's blue eyes.

"Guide me through my prayers. Please."

Roman smiled.

Oh did you think I was done? 😂 It did say Favourite Works and not just Favourite Fics, so I gotta include this one on the list too:

05 // 2020 Jason Todd Birthday edit

I said Robin Jason deserves better and I meant it! 👏👏 This edit took me 12 hours and 67 layers ‘cause I made a mistake on like my 8th hour into the editing process o__o but it ended up being my most popular serious graphic edit, so it was worth it. I guess!

I mean the likes to reblog ratio is still fucked but hey, I broke 1k, which is more than I can say for any of my other edits

#tag meme #writerly things #long post #writerly tag

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nightwingshero · 3 years

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Rosemary, abatina, dill, hollyhock, and sweet pear for whoever you feel like talking about! 💜

Thank you, hun!!! I did a mixture, because I’m missing some old OCs of mine, and some need serious development. Yeah, so it got really long, I am so sorry!

Rosemary: What's their fondest memory?

Blair: It would probably be laying out in the backyard with her dad while they watched the stars, or her dad buying her that nice telescope that he’d use with her. It meant a lot to her that her parents indulged when it came to her interests, they were always supportive. Most of her time was spent at aquariums, the observatory, zoos, and just doing a lot of stuff with her parents. Science fairs were always a blast, because her parents would help.

Emma: This would be either her and her brother Mark playing in the pond they had or playing football on the beach in the summer. Em would also work on an old Mustang, one she’s still helping him build, and Ash would come over most days and they would all just have a huge dinner in the backyard. Georgia gave decent weather for it. Most of her fondest memories are with her family or Ashton, because they grew up together and did a lot together when Emma’s family moved there. A beautiful, sunny day in Summer always takes her back.

Quinn: There were times where they would travel back to Russia to visit the remaining members of his mother’s family, and he would love it. Quinn absolutely adored his babushka, and the stories she would tell. His mother would tell the same tales, but it wasn’t the same as how his babushka would tell it. There was also sailing with his father. That was something Quinn thoroughly enjoyed, and it was something they continued on doing until his father died.

Wren: Definitely playing piano with her mother! That is probably the most precious moment for her. When she plays it now, she still feels as if her mother is there with her. Not only that, but her music teacher was her one good thing growing up. Mrs. Hall taught Wren how to actually play, and when Wren would sneak to lessons (under the guise of studying or going to the library), Mrs. Hall would often bake cookies and brownies for Wren, as if she were her own grandmother. Wren attended her funeral when she passed, and it actually felt like she had lost her grandmother when she heard. But those are memories she holds dear.

Abatina: Are they very picky or particular about anything?

Blair: Not really, no. Blair is rather easy going and goes with the flow. I think the one thing would be don’t touch her work station. It’s organized chaos with an actual system that only she knows, and she will absolutely lose it if you mess with anything because that’s her life’s work you’re messing with. I think that could be said for any scientist though, and she is very verbal about it. It’s a light reminder, or a happy request until you get too close and she becomes slightly frazzled and makes you keep your distance.

Emma: She can be an absolute control freak and has to have things a certain way (whether that’s because she was in the Marines or if she inherited it from her mother, who’s to say?) No eating in her cars, don’t touch her guns, and if you’re going along with her on something, you’re following her lead. Ashton, Nora, and even Roach give her hell for it, but honestly? Sometimes she can’t help it. Emma has a habit of taking control of a situation when it calls for it and she’s a super organized and neat person. Everything has it’s place, things are cleaned or done a certain way, and she would rather just do it herself.

Quinn: His hair and shoes. Listen, Quinn is very boyish in looks (there’s a reason Ryan Gosling is his faceclaim) and his hair is usually neat or done how he wants it. He’s not overbearing about it, he just takes his time with it because he does put care into his appearance. His shoes are shined, his clothes match and his outfit is sharp, he doesn’t go more than a few days without shaving. Once the Collapse happens, it’s one of the things he can control, so he does. Grayson often jokes he’s the prettiest guy of Armageddon, but Quinn laughs with him.

Wren: She doesn’t like it when other people drive. Having been in a traumatizing car accident, she prefers to be at the wheel for that sense of control. It’s honestly makes her so damn anxious when that’s not the case, and Quinn drives like a damn maniac from time to time in New Dawn. She will cling to something for dear life, and absolutely will backseat drive. It leads to a lot of spats between her and Jane, Quinn, and Ivy.

Dill: Do they have any rivals?

Blair: I would say that one of the biggest would be John Constantine. Blair is skeptical when it comes to the mystical and supernatural, needless to say, she absolutely does not believe in magic. However, when the Particle Accelerator went off, someone close to her was wearing a totem or a spiritual pendent that got mixed into her meta powers (it’s how she can cosmic project and do some of the things she can with energy manipulation...it also helps balance out her going supernova and such), so...some of her powers are part of the arcane. Johnny knew that the second he met her, so when she gave him grief and became skeptical when he was helping Ollie bring Sara’s soul back, he just smirked at her and went “hate to burst your little bubble, love--” and honestly, they’ve been at it from there.

Emma: Ha! Emma is competitive and very proud, so yeah, she has rivals, some more fun than others though. For example, her rivalry with Nikolai (and sometimes Price) is who can drink the other under the table. Yuri...well, they ended up in a fist fight on a misunderstanding when they first met, so while he’s working with her and the 141, there’s definitely some rivalry there with them trying to one up the other. She’ll spar with Ghost to see who is better too. Honestly, she’s always up for a challenge, and its something she shares with a lot of her fellow Marines back home--including her cousin and her teammates.

Quinn: John fucking Seed. Listen, they hate each other, full on loathing, because Quinn isn’t afraid to point out that he’s in a cult and we all know how John is when someone makes him feel insecure and inadequate...with Quinn he very much does, even if that isn’t his intention. It also doesn’t help that John notices how Quinn looks at his wife from time to time, and he doesn’t appreciate it, but the biggest thing is that Quinn openly challenges him on everything. To Quinn, he wants to poke holes in his logic and show that John isn’t at all what he thinks he is. Quinn is a natural leader, he had been in the Navy, he knows what that looks like and he’s quick to call John out on shit. Wren gives him a bit of a run, too, their rivalry just happens to uh...turn into something else.

Wren: Holly Pepper and Mary May Fairgrave. Those are the two that gives her the most trouble. In any other scenario (and in most AUs), Wren and Mary May get along just fine, but in canon? Wren straight up punches her in the face. There’s more to it, of course. Wren is being worn down by people wanting her to do this and that for the Resistance, her constantly being pulled in every direction and being forced to give to people without them giving in return. And Mary May wouldn’t shut up about the truck, while saying Wren was dragging her feet on what the Resistance needed done (mostly because Wren was sleeping around with John, but they didn’t know that yet), and Wren just gets overwhelmed with frustration and anger, and straight up punches her in the face and tells her “if you want the truck so damn bad, go get it yourself”, and storms out. Holly Pepper later becomes an issue because she knows John slept around with her, and Holly loves shoving it in Wren’s face. So...Holly ends up dying because she straight up attacks Wren, and Jane helps her with it because she knows that John has a soft spot for Wren. Plus there’s that little shit Quinn in New Dawn...they’re a lot of fun.

Hollyhock: What's their biggest goal right now?

Blair: Currently, it’s to find her place and stride with the team and her powers. She just wants to not have to lay awake at night and worry she’ll lose control again and hurt her friends and loved ones. Her whole life has changed, and there are still things that are throwing her off. She needs to find her footing again and feel more confident in what she’s become. Helping people, including herself and teammates/friends, is what’s most important to her.

Emma: As of right now, it’s to regroup and hunt down Makarov. She’s still healing from when Shepherd took out the 141 base and tried to kill her, Ashton, and Nora. The stitches are still healing a bit, but she’s pumped up and ready to take him down. Her goal, and focus, is doing whatever Price and Soap need her to do. It’s almost tunnel vision at this point.

Quinn: Take down the Highwaymen and fix whatever bullshit Whitney and Wren have going on. He won’t at all pretend he knows what fucking type of politics they have in New Eden, or what rules they’re going by, but it’s very damn clear that Ethan is no good and needs taken down. Him and Grayson came because Carmina asked Rush, and they were never ones to back down from a challenge, not when it comes to helping those in need. So, he’s gonna take down Mickey and Lou, allow Grayson to avenge Rush while protecting Prosperity, and then stand with Wren and Whitney as they take over New Eden.

Wren: That depends on if we’re talking Far Cry 5 or New Dawn, but she’s mostly taking out the head Seed and establishing peace. She’s trying to do what’s right, and whether that’s for herself (which is the eventuality of her changing sides) in Far Cry 5, or for their people and her family in New Dawn (overthrowing Ethan and opening New Eden to more freedoms.) It’s all revolved around Eden’s Gate though, and she agrees to help Quinn and Grayson because she still cares about Kim and Nick, and much of the others, so it’s just a pitstop on her plan.

Sweet pea: If you had to choose a favorite dessert for them, what would it be?

Blair: Crème Brule, strawberry shortcake, or chocolate lava cake. You could say all of the above, to be honest, she loves sweets. Blair is always snacking, and they’re usually little cakes, fruits, or something sweet. There’s a reason crepes are her favorite breakfast foods, fruit and sweet? Yes. Which I guess you could add porfait on the breakfast menu too, in that case...anyway, snacking is usually something her and Mick has in common, though she’s not constantly looking for it the way he is. Mick finds food in missions and randomly...Blair is more disciplined than that. She will grab stuff for him a lot of the times if they’re in the same room or if she’s working near him. Leonard just stares between them, he’s not sure what he thinks of their comrade (he also lost his more recent memories, so he can shut it.)

Emma: Dark chocolate cake or tarts. Anything that has a bitter or sour tinge to it, because she’s not really a sweets person. Not when it comes to that, at least. She loves her mom’s sweet tea (and homemade lemonade). But she just would have something like raspberry butter cookies, cherry pie, or even an old fashioned ice cream (yes, with bourbon). She loves dark chocolate though. And tiramisu.

Quinn: Oh, he loves the Russian desserts his mom would make, and honestly, Quinn has such a sweet tooth. Bird’s milk cake, Russian rugelach, waffle cakes, and especially kartoshka. He would help his mom (or babushka when they would visit Russia), and would eat them with Russian tea they would make. He also enjoys many flavors of gelato.

Wren: Cheesecake. Without a doubt. She has always been, and will forever be, in love with cheesecake. And all kinds, if we’re being totally honest. She will eat any flavor, she feels strongly about it. You wanna piss her off easily? Eat her cheesecake. Wanna get on her good side again? Bring her cheesecake. John does. Whenever he’s in trouble, he throws a cheesecake on it. She’s constantly eating it to the point Whitney and Rowan have both reminded her that it’s not a meal. Does she listen? No.

#oc: blair chambers #oc: emma miller #oc: quinn langdon #oc: wren blake #my ocs #asks #arrowverse #call of duty #far cry new dawn #far cry 5

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imthequeenofcordonia · 4 years

Text

Will you be my Valentine?

This is my contribution to @choicesfebruarychallenge because hosted by the amazing @clxd-play and @bi-cookie. The prompt is: Valentine. Thank you for including us all.

Paring: Drake x OC (Lily Rys)

Word count: 1,490

Warnings: None

A/N: I hope everyone is having an amazing Valentines day! All characters belong to Pixelberry other than Lily.

Permatag: @desiree---1986

Drake and Lily tags: @addictedtodrakefanfic @msjr0119 @drakewalker04

Lily was woken by the feel of Drake’s lips trailing along her bare shoulder, feeling his warm breath hit her skin making it come up with goosebumps.

She sighed contentedly and turned in the bed to face him, who already had a grin spreading across his face.

“Good morning,” She smiled at him sleepily, lifting her head up off the plush pillows to kiss him. Drake kissed her back then pulled away, leaning his forehead against hers.

“Happy Valentines day,” he smiled down at her.

She looked up at him starry eyed, smiling widely, “Happy Valentines day, Drakey.”

Before Drake could either respond nicely or grumble about the nickname, Maxwell’s voice rang out as he knocked on the door.

“Come on love birds breakfast is ready!” he yelled, being way too happy for that time of the morning in their opinion.

Drake groaned loudly, the moment now ruined as he laid back down, pulling the blankets over him, Lily giggled at him.

“So you don't want pancakes then?” she asked immediately catching Drake’s attention, leaning up on his elbows to look at her. “That’s what I thought,” she chuckled.

Drake and Lily both showered and got changed then headed down to the dining room for breakfast- the rest of the group, including Leo and Katie were already there, chatting over their morning coffee and tea’s or if you were Maxwell hot chocolate with marshmallows and cream.

They all said good morning to one another and Drake and Lily took a seat beside one another facing Liam and Riley.

Soon a plate was placed in front of everyone, the covers being taken off with a flourish to reveal a heart shaped pancake with golden syrup drizzled over them. Maxwell licked his lips and dug in, soon everyone joined in eating their own, each complementing how amazing they tasted.

The group all discussed what they had brought their partners for the special day. Lily felt kind of bad for Maxwell and Hana since they both didn't have a partner, the guilt faded when Max had a red rose appear and asked his friend to be his valentine. She was happy for him they had liked each other for a long time.

Leo turned to his sister after finishing chewing his mouth full of pancake. “So what did you get Drake?” he asked.

“We haven't actually done presents yet,” Lily told him.

“Somebody interrupted,” Drake said, glaring at Maxwell who didn't seem to notice as he was engrossed in a conversation with Hana, Riley and Liam.

Katie nodded, “Max does seem to have bad timing,” she said, sending a cheeky grin toward her husband, who returned it with his own one.

“I did not need that image,” Lily groaned.

“That’s a thing,” Leo said, getting a weird look from Drake and Lily as he pointed his fork at them before breaking off a piece of his pancake, eating it then turning back to them, “Are you two still doing that tradition of yours?”

“How did you know about that?” Lily asked, shocked.

“I’m your big brother, it’s my job to know these things.”

“I thought your job was to be a royal pain in the ass,” Lily smirked at him. She shrugged, sipping at her orange juice, “So what if we are? Traditions are supposed to be honoured.

****15 years ago****

Lily and Drake were seven years old.

Lily had her eye on a certain brunette haired boy that lived in the palace for quite a while now.

Lily, Drake, Liam and Maxwell had gone to the park a little while ago when Max had told the young princess that a certain someone liked her. Then she overheard a conversation between Drake and Maxwell where he said he had a crush and the girl he liked lived in the palace and had long blonde hair and crystal blue eyes.

He was everywhere, he was always around, every time she saw him she felt her heart start to race, her hands start to sweat and every time him glanced at her, her cheeks flushed red.

She had asked her mother about these strange feelings she had every time she was around him. She didn't mention it was Drake but Eleanor knew, he was all the princess talked about. The Queen explained that Lily liked Drake and that’s why she felt that way when she was around him, explaining that’s how she felt every time she was around Constantine.

Lily then discovered a day called ‘Valentine's day’ a day where you celebrated the loved you shared for somebody and thought it was a pretty cool day.

That morning her father had gifted Eleanor of bouquet or Roses.

She had plucked one when she thought nobody was looking and went in search of her Valentine.

She bumped into him when she rounded a corner. Drake offered her a hand up when he steadied himself, saying sorry. She took his outstretched hand and she could swear, well she couldn't because she was seven and according to her parents she wasn't allowed to say bad words, that she felt fireworks. The touch was electric, magical- this was her prince charming.

Drake pulled her up, she straightened out her dress, hiding the flower behind her back. She smiled at Drake then looked down to the floor.

“Are you okay?” the young boy asked. Lily’s cheeks flushed a crimson red and she nodded. “What’s behind your back?”

“Erm…” she said, shuffling from foot to foot nervously. She took in a deep breath, looked up at him and held the rose out to him. “W-will you be my Valentine, Drake?”

“Uh Yeah,” he nodded, taking something out of his back pocket and handing it to her. “I was coming to give you this.”

Lily looked down at the handmade card in her hand, with a drawing of a heart on the front and two people- a girl and a boy inside of it.

She grinned opening it up and reading the words on the paper.

To Lil,

I love you because I do.

Will you be my Valentine?

Love

Drakey

She looked back up to him, grinning and nodding her head vigorously. She reached out for his free hand in hers. “Yes. I’d love to.”

****Eight years later****

Drake and Lily were now both teenagers and their tradition of being one another’s Valentines had continued for all of that time. They weren’t kids anymore but they both still got nervous about asking each other.

Lily was out riding her horse around the palace grounds, she was getting back into that now. Drake was glad, she was thrown off it a few months ago and that left her quite shaken.

Drake headed to the stable’s, knowing full well he wouldn't catch up to her so he best wait. He knew her schedule, she’d go out at around 11am and be back inside for 12:45pm to get changed and then head to the dining room for dinner at 13:00pm.

Soon he heard the horse’s hooves nearing the barn and then a few seconds later the princess appeared, dismounting her horse and removing her helmet as a stable hand took care of her horse for her.

She grinned at him when she noticed he was there, “What brings you here?”

“What you forgot what today is?” Drake asked with a smirk.

She shook her head, “Never.”

Drake held out a box to her. She took it, opening it up and taking out the necklace. She played with the heart charm attached, turning it over to find “will you be my Valentine?” engraved into it.

She stood up onto her tiptoes and kissed him. “Always,” she mumbled against his lips.

****Present day****

After breakfast Drake and Lily headed back to their bedroom, taking a seat on their bed after deciding they’d do presents now.

Lily leaned over, taking out a box from under the bed and a card and placing it down. She handed it over to Drake and he passed her, her card and teddy bear. Lily smiled seeing that the heart the bear was holding had “Lil and Drakey” embroidered into it. She opened the card next, smiling at the photograph on the front of them both from a holiday they had been on the year before.

“Thank you,” she said, leaning off and planting a kiss on his lips.

“I love you,” he grinned.

“Love you too, Drakey.”

Drake turned to his card and present, deciding to open the box first. He carefully opened it up, chuckling when he pulled over a whiskey tumbler with the words “Will you be my Valentine?” on it.

Drake pulled her gently over to him, kissing her temple them placing a kiss on her lips. “I will always be your Valentine,” he told her pulling back.

She placed a hand on his cheek, her eyes locking with his, “And i will always be yours.”

#thefebruarychallange #drake x oc #the royal romance #trr #trr drake #trr fanfic #choices fanfic #the royal romance fanfic #choices: stories you play #happy valentines day

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the-writerly-night-owl · 4 years

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The Best Parts of the Past

The Royal Romance/King Liam x MC

Summary: Alexandra and Liam reminisce of their favorite memories one night.

Authors Note: I added another daughter for them maybe to be like a parallel to what Leo and Liam will be like when they grow up. One day I will emphasize that and it will be very cute. For the 41 Days of Cheer for the prompt favorite memory. I think I need to write more of these two, they are very sweet together. Enjoy!

King Liam held his daughter in his arms feeding her with a bottle. The moon bright outside her window as Kendra blinked her blue eyes up at him before closing her eyes completely. He loved feeding her as he felt close to his youngest daughter, like they had a bond. Gently he pulled the bottle out and burped her before heading over to the crib. From the door Alexandra watched him smiling putting a hand on the light switch. He nodded at her to turn the lights off before taking the baby monitor with him.

“Well she’s asleep,” said Liam. “I wish we managed to have her much sooner. I remember when Kenna was that young.”

“Kenna is still young she’s only six. Then again this is our newest baby,” said Alexandra wistfully. “But a six-year different between children is the same between you and your brother isn’t it?”

He nodded and thought about Leo. He was busy living it up and traveling around the world. Last he heard his older brother was in Australia doing some snorkeling and climbing a bridge. It looked like fun and he had sent everyone a gift back in Cordonia. He smiled and touched the door to their youngest daughter.

“Yea I just remember when Kenna was this young,” he said picturing her that young, as if it was yesterday. “I remember when we made those Christmas cookies together for Hana.” That was a very fun Christmas and one of the last ones before Kendra was born.

“I still can’t believe that you convinced me to name them Kenna and Kendra,” said Alexandra shaking her head as they headed over to their own room. “It’s like you and Leo all over again.”

“Except that we raise them better then what my dad had tried,” said Liam faintly thinking about Constantine as she put a hand on his shoulder.

“Liam, you dad did something bad, but he wasn’t an evil cartoon villain. Let’s face it, he did make you the man you are today. You know I remember, it’s one of my favorite memories, is with your dad. Because I remember winning him over and how he thought I would be a good queen.”

That was more in a teasing tone as Liam just shook his head. Alexandra just hugged him trying to lighten the mood. In a way it was working as he had kissed her forehead and then on her cheek and then softly on her lips. She had kissed him back before taking his hand and leading them into their room.

“One of my favorite memories is watching you get along with Regina. I still remember you winning that game of croquette. Most would let her win, but you never did.”

“Oh, stop it,” she said blushing as pulled him into their bedroom.

He had taken a time to watch her change into a silky royal purple pants and top set. She had grinned at him gesturing for him to follow her into bed. Grinning at her he had found his pajama pants and a tee before crawling in next to her.

Together they had laid next to each other. Her dark auburn hair sprawled out stark against the light-colored sheets. He had joined her as she adjusted to share their pillow together for now.

“Seriously what is your favorite memory? In general, something that you’ll always remember,” he said. “With me or without me I don’t care.”

“Alexandra, I have so many with you in them, it’s be hard to narrow that down,” he said sighing and smiled himself. “My favorite will always be the day that we met, you had taken me to see the statue of liberty and we had a wonderful date. Our wedding day,” he said kissing her once more. “The day our daughters were born.”

She looked at him wanting to hear at least one without their family inside it. Liam had to think catching her look and smiled as he thought of something.

“Outside of you just all the times that I’d spend with Leo growing up. Despite the age difference we were close. I can only hope that Kendra and Kenna have the same memories growing up. Now that I have answered you have to tell me one memory.”

Alexandra bit her bottom lip and laughed remembering her memories very well.

“When I was made an official Girl Scout Ambassador when I was in high school. My friends found it a little embarrassing, but I was proud of myself and my parents had come for the ceremony. We went and got pizza right afterward. Then ate any cookies we still had.”

Liam had laughed as he could picture it too. He hoped that he and Alexandra would give their daughters world if really wanted it. He could feel her breathing turn heavy and her eyes fluttering as she returned to her own pillow. He looked out at the moon shining into their window and smiled.

“Good night Alexandra,” he whispered into the night and kissed her forehead. They would have to talk about their favorite memories even more.

Tag list: @cordoniaqueensworld @flyawayboo @am-i-invisible777 @adrianadmirer @fluffy-cat-whisper @symonde @paisleylovergirl @elainew13 @itsbrindleybinch @brightpinkpeppercorn @darley1101 @mfackenthal @jlpplays1 @writerapprentice @indescribablechoices @wildsayeed @princess-geek @perriewinklenerdie @lilyofchoices

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popcartoonkabala · 7 years

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A monster is a person in your neighborhood: Satire vs. acceptance on Sesame Street= Netzach/Hod She b Malchut

Super-hero cartoons are arguably as rooted in gangster literature and media as they are in any epic heroic tradition. It's only very recently that there's been a move to return Star Heroes to military legitimacy, as The Avengers become an official S.H.I.E.L.D project... we'll see how long that moment lasts. Because since World War II, the super-heroes have tended strongly to be identified exclusively as private citizens, defined by, if not their hostility to government, a certain amount of government distance from them, manifest as either fear/hostility, or dependence, as in the case of Iron Man, or Superman or Batman. None of them are government stooges, or instruments, but the local or national state tends to come to them in need of help with some regularity.

The relationship between the state-- Malchuth and the heroes-- Zeer Anpin, is fraught with tension, as is the way of serious long term relationships. One is the stability, the other is the agent of justification. One just wants to serve, the other just wants to feel good, safe. Gangster literature is what, in many ways, first developed this relationship in the context of the modern city itself. The functional agency of drawing and circulating satisfaction vs. the frustrating maternal Law, defending some kind of innocence at the expense of functionality-- the end of the story is a covenant drawn between the two, making them agent facilitators of each other. It's like every good marriage, until it falls apart perish forbid. The distinction between one and the other demands mediation, and a third emerges naturally in the polarity between the two: The infant is to become the Tzaddik. Trusted somehow by all, and ultimately the most vulnerable, his/her death is the epic tragedy that lets everything fall apart.

Gangsters, like babies and deities, are folk heroes stripped of the conceit of altruism. What their most selfish values begin to describe are the truest essential concerns of any individual, and any nobility, loyalty, or pragmatic intelligence they express become relatively ennobled, and their folly is only that of the most traditional of ruined heroes: hubris, intoxication, and foolish obliviousness to the consequence of their failed confidence. Scarface dies much like Achilles and Balder, once they've climbed to the top of the world to become the most beloved and feared of the gods, a war god and a sun god all at once-- that's when it's over. A failed hero is the beginning of all cautionary example.

What is Count Dracula if not another of these failed heroes, but cursed with unending success? See the ultimate horror of Dracula in the later films-- frustrated by the nature of what he is, yearning so great that satisfaction and victory cannot satisfy? The vampire hero, redeemed, must overcome even the yearning for satisfaction in order to become profoundly trustworthy. You'll observe, this is also the lesson that creates Spider-man, Thor, Hulk, Iron Man, Wolverine, and many other Marvel heroes: only by giving up on personal satisfaction, be it in the form of love, revenge, wealth, or even divinity-- can they become what's trusted as a hero, and then they can overpower anything and everything, even death itself.

Frank Miller's neo-pulp heroes in Sin City take this a step further, rejecting even the appearance of even nobility itself in order to be heroes, and Chris Nolan's Batman is very influenced by Miller's version of gritty austere virtue-beyond-beauty. Here is the point where a Pop/super-hero remains distinct: he does not have to ever, give up his integrity. Pulp heroes, later day post modern comic icons, like John Constantine, Wolverine or any of the Warren Ellis Authority indy heroes outside of the mainstream mold. Their virtue is, partially, willingness to step past even needing to feel whole about their actions in order to do what needs doing. This is why Garth Ennis ultimately prefers to write war comics: that pragmatism is taken as a given, and the super heroic idealism is understood as a decadent privilege, at best.

Super-heroism rages, by it's nature against this criticism. This is most overtly expressed in Joe Kelly's Superman vs. the Elite storyline, notably adapted to animation in 2012. Don't call it naïve, don't call it juvenile-- call it simple, elementary, iconic. The hope of approaching moral depth and the implied darkness accepted in that is more resonant and literary, but betrays the purity that the heart yearns for from it's mythology. Maybe i'm exaggerating-- traditional religion and mythology tends to accept, even embrace, moral relativism and the challenge of dark nature and betrayal of ideals as a certain form of ideal-- but as civilization becomes more sophisticated and self aware, the antidote demands to be more pure, hence the progressively more senseless and emotionally immature nature of super-modern pop music, during any era that should be finding depth and collective appreciation of that capacity to acknowledge the disturbing range of what's clear about being a person, all the more so does the simplest, most even offensively naïve of narratives become resonant. Witness the victory of Christianity over both Roman paganism, Norse Aesir worship and folk Gnosticism-- why did the cruelest of all empires go with the religion that ultimately, theologically, justified its excesses the least? Because they needed the purest of purification to move on and be the kind of bad they were going to become from then on, in order to rule themselves all.

This is the degree to which satirical anti-heroes are central to the maturity of a culture. But once satirized effectively enough they can no longer be national icons-- they must either respond to the satire, and become better and more whole mythic heroes, like Krishna after Buddha, or Elijah after The New Testament critique of his fiery piety in the tale of the good samaritan. The choice becomes ironic pandering, ignoring the critique in search of more naïve audience, or better yet, some sophisticated refinement of character, and ideally a mythic defeat of the criticism. In this, the hero's ideals themselves defeat the villain embodying the critique. This is much of where the Batman vs. Joker conflict has gone in recent super-modernity, where Batman's commitment to protecting, or at least not killing, the monstrous grizzly and willfully chaotic murderer is justified as an ideological triumph-- not defined as a virtue by dint of dated calvinist “commitment to ideal”-- because no one respects that kind of ideological commitment as being authentically virtuous anymore. The triumph instead has been defined in specific contrast to the Joker's preference-- the Joker would like Batman to kill him, ostensibly, because that would prove the virtue of killing problems, and by NOT killing him, Batman proves his virtue and commitment to the legal process, in some strange sense, which strips batman of the danger of being a social terror.

The real reason for this hang-up is much more narratively practical-- the villain is too precious to kill off. The Joker, like almost every other villain of grace and note, is divinized by his meaningfulness. He was actually killed off in his second appearance, but to no avail-- the editors commanded the writers to find a way to bring him back to life only a short time later, and so it has been his practice ever since, much like Dracula or Moriarty.

The degree to which villains are different than monsters is the degree to which there is no reward in slaying villains-- only an end to the great narrative. Monsters, on the other hand, must be slain, as this is the original sin of demonization-- insisting that violent annihilation is the only solution to the needs of another “human.” A villain is preferred to be captured, and maintained in controlled captivity. This mystic clarity about the reincarnation of the slain enemy into distant freedom, as opposed to the power of sacred captivity, to keep one's enemy close, accessible, and monitored, like the very id itself. As indestructible and precious as the self itself, the moral of the story is Overcome, but never destroy.

Dracula's special and refined thirst is for the Moon, the untouched mother-- and his slave wife is the Venus, although the point where they meet is close. The early evening- But Venus is his weapon, while the Moon, ultimately, is his weakness, what gets him killed, even as much as he lives from nursing at it's behest and it's throat. This is the secret of the two “ה"'s in the four letter tetragrammaton “YHWH”.

One of the profound psychological innovations of Sesame Street is to reclaim the monstrous as synonymous with the human, thus overcoming at the most viceral and accesible level untold generations of demonization. Where traditionally Dracula and all the monsters represent the repressed and feared aspects of basic hungry humanity (“hell is other people”) Sesame Street takes Dracula and reframes his hunger as simple passion for the abstract and inherently unlimited satisfaction of numbers themselves. Whereas Count Dracula himself is the first amongst modern pop-monsters, The Count falls parralel to the sephira of Hod, sensetivity and co-dependance, the aspect of the god who gives numbers to the stars already created, unthreatening, although perhaps slightly nagging tho graceful and charming. Contrast this with the muppet I would consider his opposite number in rank and value, the Cookie Monster, who I would consider an expression of Netzach/Dominance, his hunger unavoidable and creepingly inquisitive, his pallette insatiable although still somehow respectful of some kind of engagement and personal limit in the context of personal need, reflected in his rectification as a vegetable eater who just appreciates the cookies as a “sometimes food,” even as his monstrous appetite remains intact. The villification of Venus/Innana is that of an insatiable lover who does not care much at all, but cannot long be resisted, or even resented, as the defeated visage of Ernie-without-cookies testifies.

A monster is just another person in the neighborhood; a reflection of our own normal needs and hungers, respected, honored, and safely sociably satisfied. Grouches and Satyrs are just themselves, and honored for and despite this-- what more radical message can civilization aspire to offer? This is, ultimately the great difference between Babylonia and Egypt: Egypt sought not (generally) to assimilate it's monsters and enemies, although there were periods where the Sethian was more integrated-- the foreign was somewhat inherently anathema-- and this nativist impulse endured until the Greeks overcame it, as was the nature of Greeks, to overcome nativisms with a glorious and all-consuming universalism. Rome's innovation was just to weaponize the Greek syncretic clarity, and apply it more aggressively, taking it's perfection for granted as much as was reliable. Once, to end wars within an empire, polytheistic pantheons were assembled, as a kind of a symbolic senate of the different priorities of different city-states within an empire. Egypt may have innovated this, if Babylon did not, it doesn't matter. Babylon's aspiration was not just to be an empire, but to be a great city, where things worked-- and it became clear that unless there was co-identification, and cathartic expression, of the different elements within their society, there would be conflict. The great Babylonian epic of Gilgamesh reflects this ambivalence, between the slaying of monsters and their integration and the acknowledgement of their humanity. The hero starts the story as a hated villain, an oppressive king resented by the populace he rules. A hero from outside of civilization comes to confront and slay him, this force of cruel and selfish modernity-- but instead, thanks to the intervention of certain gods, they become friends instead, and go on an adventure to slay another more monstrous monster. This conflict is greatly debated and engaged, before and after, and leads to conflict with greater forces, goddess and her pet cosmic bull. Our heroes slay the cosmic bull, and for this, one of them must die. A similar narrative is kept by the Greeks, when Kadmos slays the wrong dragon, the beloved of Hera, and so must lose his beloved sister Europa, forever. The moral is clear-- the more you can integrate, and not kill, the less threatened you will be. This is the purest moral of all civilization.

Sesame Street is in the unique summit between commercial and civil. Concieved, unlike most pop-cartoons, not for profit but for some kind of educational, civic or edifying purpose, specifically bound up in the grand project of universal education for all children, its excesses as far as violence and indulgence of children's affection for sugar and noise compel parental forgiveness and toleration, in light of the hope that the kids would enjoy this educational pop-media over less trustworthy and more commercially pandering tv shows. In it's early episodes, it could get away with a lot as far as puppet violence and questionable exploration of tantalization and titillation of kindergardeners, as it at least had positive tacit integrationist and educational function, about the nature and character of assorted letters and numbers(!). Once Sesame Street became established and somewhat universally successful, and thus, functionally institutionalized, it also became more sensitive to moral criticism, and able to be overtly responsible for the values and graces it would introduce, rather than assume were already part of children's paradigma. Cookie Monster introduces children to consumption, rather than just satirizing a hunger already observed, and becomes a certain kind of role model, now responsible to amend his own nature, so that the lesson of moral clarification become the implied arc of his journey, even as older episodes exist only in archive, except of course for classic routines, which are continually re-integrated into new episodes. The earliest Ernie and Bert routines remain in circulation and translation forever, because they are so fundamental and accessible-- a good omen for pop-longevity. Many classic figures are integrated into Sesame Street, but eventually used less and less because what they meant historically becomes less and less relevant. I was introduced to the character of Charlie Chaplin's “Tramp” in the context of Sesame Street, but they don't use even the Maria who played him so much anymore. Instead, is Mr. Noodles, the incompetent mime in Elmo's world who children joyfully correct as he manically tries to complete the most rudimentary of tasks, to no avail, until the advice of a quorum of offscreen children are able to get through to him, with the help of Elmo's omniscient voice. Elmo is the aspect of Malchus, in that he became the main character of Sesame Street, despite being a later addition to the cast. He is a monster child, like the once central Grover, but unlike Grover or Chaplin, he is defined by his absolute competence. His lessons are those learned after doing everything right, not wrong. He is the aspect of the wise child, not the fool, and so he is given an entire third of every episode of the final few seasons of Sesame Street-- until he himself, that is, the actor who played Elmo exclusively, was implicated in the hubris of the successful, and the good name of all that Elmo and Sesame Street are associated with became suddenly embedded in sexual impropriety. Such is the downfall of kings, specifically: fear of their appetites and preferences, because of their absolute power.

Sesame Street is too big to end because of an underage gay sex scandal or two, but not too big to need to be a bit castrated because of it. Pop-cartoons depend on grace, and the impression of trustworthiness

before both parents and children. As cool as we all want to be with what actors do on their own time, it was a bit more of a problem with Sesame Street, because the actors, especially in the case of Elmo, are so deeply and truly associated with the show itself. Not since Jim Henson himself was alive and available to make Kermit the Frog a celebrity, available for interview and all manner of guest appearance, was a character so genuinely and improvisably identifiable with the actor giving him voice.

It's not that “we” found out that Elmo himself was a chubby older black man with a thing for 17 year old men, it's that Elmo is such a naked expression of erotic power male power, easily identifiable as kind of Libyan Satyr; a naked, red wildman. Identifying THAT cartoon Id with an actual person, might just be a little hard to reconcile for long. So they appear to be phasing him out a bit, making the Elmo's world segments less personal and more theatrical, so that the distance of seeing him as more of a stage muppet that an intimate and eponymous pop force, like the great god Pan himself, kept alive only in Elizabethean chains, taken from the wild forest onto the city stage. A smaller King Kong is a loveable King Kong, unless and until he creeps you out. Then what're you gonna do?

The Sesame Muppets are monsters of the greatest virtue. They will not eat you, and don't even have to promise not to; the question dare not come up. They want to share and play responsibly, learn and help us learn. In this, they are a tikkun on the respective terrors and traditional issues with their respective forms. The Great Eagle, the “Big Bird,” hangs over looking patronizingly down for prey-- but Big Bird on Sesame Street is utterly without guile or threat, taking as much responsibility for whatever goes on as is possible, in his dreamy ignorance. This is the level of the great dove, divinity herself, rather than the predatory eagle or trickster raven-- the hawk coming to bring things to you, rather that to eat the eyes out of your head. Dracula is reduced to counting passionately only numbers and not bride-victims. The unconquerable hunger behind Dracula, the oceanic kraken come asurface, hungers only for cookies. Grover is something tragic, a hero partially defined by his constant failure. Through him, children learn the grace in not being good at something, and still trying because you care, and the effort is cute. But Elmo informs of the possibility of being inherently right at everything, and STILL being cute, and this is the different between the Messiah of Joseph and the Messiah of David. This is one of the strongest subplots in the old testament, and endures through the entire post Pentateuch bible, when the kingdoms of David and Ephraim (Joseph's son) literally split because of conflicting priorities. Modern scholarship identifies these two voices as representing conflicting political priorities involved in the bible's construction, Kabbalistic tradition prefers to assume that it's an internal expression of fundamentally complementary models. Joseph, identified with the sphere of Yesod, is identified with unyielding righteousness, and keeping of rules. He must die and fail at some point, if not in every generation, to make the point of the limitation of perfection in this world. The Davidic model, introduced in his forefather Judah, for whom the Jews are named, is about the triumph of earnest imperfection, bound up in a will to constantly do better, in a manner unbound by law or principle, although still beholden to the purpose and meaning of law and principle, and whose life, triumph and clarity can only come after being built by adherence to law and principle. The Davidic Messiah is the one who brings clarity to true purpose and divinity into the already formed Josephean structure. As such, he never dies, and cannot fail, but can only be disgraced into some degree of dismissal, as was the way with Elmo and King Solomon.

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thelittleredheadedmusician · 7 years

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So before I started taking prompts (which can still totally be sent in) I asked @silv3rclouds-with-graylining to give me one. He asked for some more college freshman!Damian that I did whilst admining for @whore4batfam and wanted it with a freaky friday twist. It got a lot longer than I planned but here it is.

“So how’s school going?” Damian rolled his eyes behind his mask, not that Todd could see since he was across the room and Damian was, well, wearing his mask.

“It’s fine. Going well,” he responded to his brother through the comms as he crouched behind a museum display. The thief, some D-lister Damian couldn’t even remember the name of, was carefully removing the ancient necklace from its case. “On my count. 3… 2… Now.”

Suddenly the Red Hood leapt from his own hiding spot and yelled, “Hey jerkface! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Damian went barreling into the thief and knocked him down onto the smooth tile floor, the necklace dropping from his grasp and skittering across the floor. Damian easily pulled the zip-ties from his belt and secured the man’s wrists and ankles for the police. “Nice going Demon Bat,” Jason chuckled as he sauntered over.

“-tt- Aren’t you missing a letter? Thought I was the Demon Brat.”

“Nah. Considering you’re nearly my height you don’t really qualify as a brat anymore.”

Damian rolled his eyes again but didn’t bother hiding the small quirk of his lips. His relationships with his brothers and most of the other members of their community had improved over the years. Which is why he was surprised but agreed when Jason asked for his help for the night.

Getting up he walked towards where the necklace had fallen. Jason had as well and both brothers bent to pick it up simultaneously. “No!” the crook shouted at them but it was too late, both boys had already grabbed the necklace.

“What’s your problem?” Jason asked and Damian knew that under the helmet he had a single eyebrow raised.

“I- what- dammit!” The man yelled.

Damian looked back to his brother who just shrugged, put the necklace in an evidence bag he pulled from somewhere before dropping it back into the case. “C’mon, cops will be here soon.” Together they grappled back out through the museum’s skylight to head home early. They had to get Damian back to school tomorrow after all.

Jason stretched, still laid out flat on his back in bed. The night before had been nice, stopping that robbery with the kid then special tea and cookies for the returning vigilantes from Alfred. Damian was being driven back to school today so patrols last night had been cut short in order to enjoy aforementioned tea and cookies before bed. He finally, blearily, opened his eyes and spent another minute or so staring at the ceiling before swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and standing. That was when he noticed something was wrong. This wasn’t his bedroom, not the one he used as a kid or the one he used when staying at the manor now. He realized with a start this was Damian’s room and what was worse, he was Damian.

Flinging the door open he sprinted down the hall to his own room and began pounding his fists on the door. “I’m coming!” and some mumbled curses came from inside. Said by his own voice. The door swung open and he saw himself standing there in shock. “Todd?” Damian asked. All Jason could do was nod before Damian began cursing some more.

The noise had drawn the attention of the manor’s other occupants and Dick had opened his door across the hall from them. “What the hell are you two arguing about at… 6:30 in the morning?”

“I’m him!” Jason yelled at the same time Damian said “Todd is me!”

Dick blinked at them slowly, shook his head and turned back around to flop down on his bed. “It is too early for this. Go make to bed until you two start making sense.”

Jason exchanged a wild look with his brother before the two rushed into Dick’s room. “Dickhead! Get up! We have a serious problem here!”

“Grayson I demand you assist us at once!” Damian had managed to roll Dick onto his back and the eldest now stared up at them in confusion. “The necklace! Todd! The necklace from last night must have had some sort of mystical properties.”

Jason nodded, “That must be why he freaked when we both touched it.” Jason glanced back down at Dick who was slowly managing to process this information.

“What… Jay?” Dick addressed what appeared to be Damian before turning his attention on the other boy, “Dami?” They nodded. “Well crap. The one time Zatanna actually goes off world.”

“Are you saying we’re stuck like this?!” Jason cried as Dick pushed himself upright again.

“I don’t know. We’ll have to talk to Bruce but if it was really magic that caused this then there’s not much to be done until we can get ahold of someone who knows what they’re doing. Damian began a long string of curses in a plethora of languages. “Damian. Language.” Dick scolded and led the way from his room.

Damian scoffed, “But you never tell Todd to watch his language.”

“Yeah well, Jason’s older than you.”

“Not if I’m him,” Damian responded smugly.

Dick blinked and seemed to flounder at this. Jason could not stop laughing. “Ok. New rule, nobody curses. In any language.”

Bruce chose that moment to exit his bedroom, as they passed no less. “What’s this now?”

Dick gave a mischievous smirk before pointing at Jason, “Looks like Dami? Actually Jay.” He then pointed to the other boy, “Looks like Jay? Actually Dami.”

Bruce’s brow furrowed but he only gave his usual “hmmph” in reply. The trio made it to the kitchen where they found Alfred and Cass making breakfast and Tim nursing a coffee. Jason got a wicked idea, running up behind Tim he grabbed him in a headlock and gave him a noogie with a loud “Timbo!” in his ear.

Tim wildly flailed his arms, “What the hell, Damian?! Get off!”

Jason laughed and flopped into the seat next to him, receiving a look that meant Tim was obviously doubting his sanity. “Do not blame me for Todd’s ridiculous actions,” the real Damian drawled from where he leaned against the fridge.

“What? No. Please no. Not again,” Tim groaned into his mug. “I need more coffee if I’m dealing with this crap.”

Cass just grinned, “Knew it was you. Whole time.”

“Well thanks for not being a spoilsport!”

Cass gave him a salute before turning back to the stove. Bruce sighed as he dropped into his seat at the head of the table. “I just checked, Zatanna and Constantine are both in some pocket dimension and with each other so who knows when they’ll be back.”

“What about the necklace?” Damian asked as he took up his own position at the table. Dick, Cass, and Alfred following right behind with the food.

“Police custody by now. And I don’t want to tamper with something we know nothing about.”

“So where does that leave us?” Jason asked as he snagged some bacon.

Bruce sighed, “I hate to say it but, stuck. You’ll have to go about acting like each other.”

Damian’s eyes widened and his whole face went pale. “No. That cannot be. Father, I have classes! Midterms are coming up! Todd cannot just take my place.”

“Normally I’d be offended that the Demon Bat would think I’m not smart enough but I am not going to college as him. No way. I got my degree a year ago now. Online. This is not going to work.” Jason informed the table.

“C’mon Jay. You can handle it,” Dick said with an encouraging smile.

“Nope. This is serious. I do not want to be responsible to turning Damian’s GPA to crap.”

“Thank you,” Damian said, dead serious.

“I realize this is not ideal but it will only be for a few days.” Bruce rubbed the bridge of his nose, a surefire sign that he was done with hearing any arguments. Jason sighed and stabbed his eggs a bit too aggressively.

A few hours later Jason found himself sitting on the bed in Damian’s dorm room, a detailed list of instructions in his hand. He was trying to remember the tour that Damian had given them during family weekend when the kid’s roommate walked in. “Hey Damian. How was your break?”

“Uh. Ok. Yours?”

Jack blinked at him, “Good. You feeling ok?”

“Yes. Why?” Jason consciously tried to mimic Damian’s speech patterns.

“Because normally you say something like ‘it was adequate’ or ‘sufficient’ or something like that,” Jack said with a grin.

Jason just shrugged, “I find my family exhausting and am rather tired.”

“Ok, whatever man. Guess that means we’re not playing Mario Kart tonight.”

“What?”

“Seriously Dam? It’s Mario Kart Monday! Your head must be messed up from all that Gotham smog. You get whacked over the head and kidnapped again?”

“Apologies. I must be more out of it than I realized.”

Jack just chuckled as he continued to put his shirts away. “Don’t worry. Get some sleep. I can make fun of you for it in the morning.”

Jason went to roll out of bed the next morning and just about died when he realized that he was roughly six feet in the air, Damian had lofted his bed and Jason had forgotten about having to be the kid for the next couple days. He made it to the ground without incident and grabbed Damian’s shower caddy before heading to where he remembered the bathroom was. He reviewed the list of instructions after the shower and went to where he had a fuzzy recollection of the dining hall. The food was good but nothing like Alfred’s and he was glad for Damian’s anti-social tendencies as he was able to eat his omelet in peace.

He checked the campus map that he had pulled up on his phone and went to find his first class, Environmental Science 101. He only took two wrong turns and still ended up being the first one into the lecture hall where Damian had told him he was expected to sit in the second row, fifth from the left. Jason found his seat pulled out Damian’s notes and books and fished through his bag for a pencil. He then put headphones in and flipped his hood up like he’d seen his younger brother do a thousand times but didn’t turn on any music. The room filled up around him and soon enough the professor walks in and starts class. Jason dutifully took notes and was pleasantly surprised to find he was enjoying himself. After an hour and a half the class left out and Jason went to find the next building.

After a week Jason found himself enjoying his time at college. Damian’s classes were interesting, his friends were nice and didn’t seem to mind Jason’s reluctance to join conversations, and the time off from patrolling was just fantastic. He was almost sad when he got the text Friday afternoon saying that Zatanna had been contacted and the necklace attained and someone would be picking him up in a little over an hour to pick him up. He packed up some clothes and the belongings he knew Damian would want back and went to wait outside. He bumped into Jack on the way, “You going home for the weekend?”

“Yes. Father has a charity event and I agreed to go.”

Jack nodded, “Ok. Have fun.”

Dick was the one who came to pick him up, a goofy grin on his face. “What is it?” Jason growled as he climbed into the car.

Dick shrugged but the smile never moved, “Oh nothing. Just imagining how much fun you must have had being Damian all week. Oh, and that Damian somehow worked out the logic that whenever he swore it was technically you so he racked up roughly $700 worth of swear jar charges for you to pay upon your return to the manor.”

Jason glared and muttered, “I’m so going to kill him.” The drive to Gotham was filled with Dick’s mindless chatter and constant changing of the radio station. Finally, they pulled up to the manor and Jason practically flung himself from the car. “DAMIAN!” He bellowed as he plowed through the front doors, “I AM NOT PAYING FOR YOUR SWEARING!”

“Oh my. I am never anything less than amused when you lot call me,” Zatanna smirked, standing in the middle of the living room holding the necklace in a white gloved hand.

“Can we just get this over with?” Damian grumbled from where he sprawled himself out in the recliner.

“What do we have to do?” Jason asked the magician as the rest of the family loitered around the edges of the room.

“Just grab the necklace at the same time,” the magician informed the two brothers.

“That’s it?” Jason asked incredulously.

“It seems too simple,” Damian agreed.

Zatanna just shrugged, “That’s it.”

They shared a glance and each held out a hand which Zatanna dropped the necklace into. Simultaneously they caught it and…

“I don’t feel any difference.” Jason said, still as Damian.

“It takes some time. Get some food, go to bed, you’ll wake up as yourselves. Now if you don’t mind letting it drop to the floor.” From there she picked it up, placed it in an evidence baggie that she passed to Bruce before waving and disappearing.

“Well then,” Jason said to the empty air. “I’m getting food.”

They did as Zatanna suggested and woke up the next morning, in his own bed. He smiled, rolled over, and went back to sleep.

Damian stretched and peered around his own room for the first time in a week. He got out of bed and went about his normal routine. The rest of the weekend passed without incident, unless you counted the various normal squabbles that broke out between the manor’s inhabitants. Sunday night saw Bruce finally driving Damian back to school. He let himself into his room and collapsed onto his desk chair. “Hey Dames. How was break?”

“Don’t you mean how was my weekend?”

Jack shook his head, “I’m not an idiot. I know that was your brother. Now tell me how your break was and we’ll go back to pretending like we both know you’re normal.”

Damian blinked at his roommate but shrugged and told Jack how his break was.

#dc comics #batfam #writing #own writing #my fic #damian wayne #jason todd #bruce wayne #dick grayson #tim drake #cassandra cain #alfred pennyworth #batman #college freshman damian #body swap

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theonedarkqueen-blog1 · 4 years

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Alyssa Milano Arnold Schwarzenegger Commando stock photos & Alyssa Milano Arnold Schwarzenegger Commando images

In a confined space, he looks like a trapped animal that, with all its physical strength, cannot do anything; the depiction of his advanced age flatters him remarkably. Some pages may also etch that his involvement in such films is a definitive indication of the end of his career, but the action icon should assume many more such roles in the future. Schwarzenegger also benefits from his young partner Abigail Breslin, for whom this film is much more a home game - an excellent combination resulting from a successful casting.

From magical to disastrous Golden Globes 2020: Tops and flops from the red carpet

It's summer vacation right now, you're sitting around the campfire and trying to play normalcy, an innocent get-together. But the conversation drifts again and again to the epidemic, to bitten classmates and with Maggie and her ex-boyfriend there are two in the group who share the fatal fate, even if nobody dares to speak out - only when the two are among themselves , talk about it more openly. Only after this meeting do the emotions burst out of Maggie's best friend. We will then send you a link with your password. By using had me going from FILMSTARTS you consent to the use of cookies. These enable our website to be better serviced. I expressly agree that you start executing the contract before the cancellation period expires. I am aware that with this consent I lose my right of withdrawal when the contract begins. The sound not only offers the viewer good dialogue reproduction, but also a pleasant surround sound and good bass inserts. So you can be satisfied with the overall sound quality, I like to give a good 95% here.

We use cookies to improve your shopping experience. If you continue browsing our site, you accept the cookie policy. Mel Gibson made a guest appearance in this comedy produced by his "Lethal Weapon" buddy Joel Silver. The main roles, however, are played by Billy Crystal and Robin Williams, both of whom are potential fathers of a young boy who wants to bring him back to his mother. Arnold Schwarzenegger delivers a simply great achievement. Without playing big emotions, he manages to give the silent and dramatic scenes another dimension with his facial expressions. He has never been so good. Abigail Breslin, known from Signs, Little Miss Sunshine and Zombieland, plays the title character Maggie as well. The girl's fear of the transformation, the concern for her family members and at the same time the growing greed for meat, are all wonderfully portrayed by the 19-year-old actress. Maggie Vogel (Abigail Breslin) has a problem. She was sentenced to slow death by the bite of a zombie. The doctors give Maggie another eight weeks. Her father Wade (Arnold Schwarzenegger) is allowed to take his seriously ill daughter to the family farm for the past few weeks. Eventually, the government managed to narrow the epidemic. The student Maggie (Abigail Breslin) is one of the last victims to be infected. However, the virus does not work immediately. The complete conversion takes place gradually and takes up to six months. The once cheerful teenage girl then returns to her home country to wait for the final transformation.

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In addition to visual elegance and stylishly placed gags, "The Last Stand" captivates with non-stop action and uncompromising hardness. In addition to Schwarzenegger, Johnny Knoxville ("Jackass"), Jaimie Alexander ("Thor"), Forest Whitaker ("The Last King of Scotland"), Eduardo Noriega ("Transsiberian"), Peter Stormare ("Constantine") and Rodrigo Santoro ("300" ) involved in merciless hunting. The item is currently not in stock, but can be ordered.

#père schwarzenegger

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cordonian-literature · 4 years

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The Aftermath - Ch. 26

Water Fun

Summary: Everyone does their best to have fun at the Regatta. During the beach party, Liam and Riley spend some time together.

Word Count: ~3.7k

Warnings: mention of character death

*All characters belong to Pixelberry, except those that are unique to my story (I’ve also used some characters and fictional instances from Donna Tartt’s book “The Goldfinch”)*

Catch up here!

Tags: @captain-kingliamsqueen @gkittylove99 @lovablegranny @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @mom2000aggie @kingliam2019 @queenrileyrose @shanzay44 @cordonianroyalty @hopefulmoonobject @hopelessromanticmonie @cinnamonspongecake @kuladekiwi @twinkle-320 @iaminlovewithtrr @charlotteg234 @amandablink @texaskitten30 @tinkie1973 @louiseingram1208 @queencatherynerhys @pens-girl-87 @missevabean @ladyangel70 @sanchita012 @cordonianprincess @liamandneca @cordonia-gothqueen @pink-diamond13 @queenwalton

I’m not sure if the tags are working or not, but I hope I got everyone down! If you would like to be added/removed, please let me know, I wouldn’t want to annoy anyone with notifications :)

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

- Maxwell -

When everyone — except Liam — walked out of the palace, they were glad to see Hana coming along. They understood if she would prefer to stay in her rooms instead of attending her cheating husband’s party, but she walked down the steps and into a car with Riley and Olivia, her face emotionless.

Rowan was coming with the Beaumonts in their limo after Maxwell had asked her to. He noticed that Savannah and Bartie were taking a liking to her, but of course there was Bertrand who always gave them a look when he saw them together.

At the marina, the colorful boats interrupt the peaceful blue waters. The sun warms the tops of everyone’s heads, but not unbearably. In the crowd of people, Maxwell notices Riley and the children, and waves them over.

“What’s up, baby blossoms?” he says to Gabriel and Eleanor. “You two look fantastic.”

“Thanks!” Ella cries. She was wearing a sailor dress, while her brother wore a matching suit. “We’re sailors! Argh!”

“That’s the sound pirates make, Ella,” Gabriel tells her.

“Oh... aye aye, captain!” she says instead.

“That’s... also what pirates say.”

The girl’s shoulders slump. “Then what do sailors say?” She looks over at her brother, who shrugs.

“Oh! What about,” Maxwell thinks aloud before crying, “All hands on deck!”

“All hands on deck!” the baby blossom repeats.

“Settle down, you three,” Bertrand tells them in low voice. He jerks his head towards an approaching cameraman and reporter. “We don’t want them to see foolish behavior, do we now?” He says menacingly to Bartie and the baby blossoms. Noticing that the reporter was making a beeline for Riley, he tries to quickly say, “Lady Riley, please remember—”

“Good morning, Lady Riley, it’s lovely to see you!” Ana de Luca interrupts Bertrand’s harsh whispers.

“Thank you, Ana!” Riley responds. “It’s wonderful to see you as well.”

“Just like your first Social Season, you’ve made quite a splash on Cordonian headlines! The people are itching to know how your relationship with His Majesty is going.”

She shoves the microphone in Riley’s face, but she doesn’t flinch and flashes a show-stopping smile. “There is a lot for both of us to catch up on, but our top priority is giving Gabriel a good support system.”

“Understandable. But... you said there was a lot for both of you to catch up on? Are you suggesting that King Liam didn’t know you, or your son’s whereabouts ever since you left Cordonia?”

Riley pauses for a second, but quickly catches herself: “Of course not. King Liam—”

“Then how come Cordonia’s heir is only being presented to the people now?” Ana interrupts her, plastering a concerned look on her face. “Surely you know the threats to the country that arise during such situations?”

Maxwell understood that Ana wanted answers, both for her story and for the people of Cordonia, but she really didn’t have to bombard Riley like that.

“My relationship with King Liam ended on a sad note,” Riley picks up again. “You know the scandal that surfaced during his Coronation. He was understandably upset, as was I, and our relationship had to come to a close. And since we couldn’t prove my innocence, he had to choose Countess Madeleine, who I know would have made a great Queen. I found out that I was expecting during the Engagement Tour, and to prevent another scandal and for the safety of my child, I withdrew from court and informed His Majesty.”

Maxwell was taken aback for a moment. Riley was saying all these lies so easily. He knew she had to, but he was still shocked. He looks down at the baby blossoms to find them looking up at their mother.

“Was that the reason he broke off his engagement to the Countess?” Ana asks again.

Riley flashes that smile again. “You would have to ask him that question.”

“So what exactly happened after he broke the engagement?”

“Accommodations were made for me to return to Cordonia, but King Liam decided that it was better to stay away for a while longer, seeing that there were many threats to the monarchy and his own safety. The last thing we would have wanted was to put our child at risk.”

Before Ana can ask another question, a herald trumpeting breaks through.

“What’s happening?” Eleanor asks up to Maxwell.

“Liam’s gonna say something,” Maxwell tells her.

They all turn to see Liam on an elevated platform with Prince Leo near him, smiling out at everyone. A crowd forms around him, and Maxwell notices Liam look in the baby blossoms’ direction and smile.

“Ladies and Gentlemen of Cordonia, I welcome you all to our Royal Regatta!” his booming voice cries.

The crowd around him begins to cheer and clap. Ana de Luca follows her cameraman over towards the main crowd, and they both disappear between the bustle of people.

“This day,” Liam continues, “holds both historical and personal importance. Cordonia, for as long as any of us have known is, has prided herself in remaining a generous nation, even when our neighbors are not as benevolent. The Regatta was also a favorite event of my father, the late King Constantine.”

Maxwell notices a shadow cross over Liam’s face, but it disappears in an instant.

“In his memory, we celebrate, and hope for the continued prosperity of Cordonia. So without further delay, let the festivities begin!” Liam concludes. The crowd cheers again, then disperse.

From the corner of his eye, Maxwell sees Drake and Jessica walking in their direction. Jessica’s bright smile and casual dress contrast with Drake’s expressionless face and his usual denim outfit.

“I heard a few nobles were gonna race before the actual thing?” Drake asks Maxwell. Jessica greets Rowan and the baby blossoms.

“Yes, I believe Duke Rashad, Landon, and Hakim are some of the main contestants,” Bertrand answers.

“And, uh...” Maxwell leans forward — taking a look back at Hana, who was in a conversation with Olivia and Riley, neither of which were paying attention to anything the rest of them were saying — “Neville’s gonna participate, too.”

Everyone makes a face, giving a quick, pitiful glance in Hana’s direction.

Maxwell looked around and noticed people getting ready for the race. He raises his head, hoping to see Liam somewhere, and sees him in front of the royal yacht conversing with someone.

“Baby blossoms,” he leans down to them. “You guys should go over to where Liam is.”

“Where is he?” Ella asks.

“At the royal yacht,” Maxwell tells them.

Gabriel grabs his sister’s hand, then leads her away from their group. But after a few seconds, they return, and Gabriel says, “Yeah, I don’t know where that is.”

“C’mon, ya little blossom babes, I’ll show you.” He begins leading the way to where he saw Liam, then turns back towards Rowan and tells her to follow.

She blushes, and rushes up to them.

Maxwell doesn’t see Liam anymore, but he still leads the children onto the royal yacht. When Liam hears them board, his face lights up and the baby blossoms run up to him.

“Daddyo!” Eleanor cries, running towards Liam with her arms out. Liam grabs her and lifts her over his shoulders and onto his back.

Eleanor giggles as she wraps her arms around his neck and her legs around his torso. Liam proceeds to march around the yacht, Gabriel following them and laughing along.

Maxwell notices a variety of sweets and snacks laid out on the table: fruits pierced with small sticks that had cute animals at the ends of them, and everything from cupcakes to cookies, also in the shape of animals.

Liam stops when the herald comes onto the boat and tells him, “Your Majesty, it’s time for you to announce the beginning of the races.”

Gently, Liam helps Eleanor off his back, who pouts. "Wait right here,” he tells her, then follows the herald off of the boat and back onto an elevated platform near the starting line. The herald hands Liam a starting pistol, and he holds it above his head.

“Racers, ready!” he calls out. Liam pulls the trigger and yells, “Go!”

The boats take off into the distance, and Liam rushes back onto the yacht to collect Eleanor in his arms again, letting Gabriel enjoy his fresh fruit.

Liam invites everyone else onto the yacht. While the women engage themselves in conversation, Maxwell, Drake, and Bertrand stand around and talk to Liam, who gives most of his attention to the baby blossoms.

Maxwell looks around at the activity around him, and is suddenly reminded that barely than two months ago, none of them could have imagined they’d all be together again. Back then, everyone had become accustomed to the boredom that their lives had been put into. But seeing everyone now, Riley talking happily with everyone, a smile on Liam’s face bigger than Maxwell had ever seen — he feels grateful for everything.

He stares at Rowan for a moment, silently hoping that she would look back at him. When she does, she smiles at him again, and he loves that look in her eyes. She breaks off the stare to glance at the children, and Maxwell is suddenly reminded of Boris.

He didn’t remember seeing the man anywhere after the Derby. Maxwell stands and looks out towards the docks. There are so many people that he can’t point out any specific person.

“The boats are back!” Gabriel announces. Everyone walks towards the edge of the yacht. When Maxwell focuses on the two small figures that were beginning to come into view, he tells everyone that it’s Rashad’s and Neville’s boats that are in the lead.

They all stare at the two boats in anticipation, and they hear cheers from the docks go out when Rashad’s boat passes the finish line first. Maxwell glances towards Hana to see a satisfied smile on her face. She seems glad Neville lost.

Liam walks closer to the shore and begins to applaud, congratulating Rashad. Both men exit their boats and shake each other’s hands, but Maxwell still notices Neville snarl after he turns away.

Once everyone is back on the harbor, Neville tells everyone that his party is beginning, and people begin to board his ship.

“Aren’t you going?” Olivia turns to ask Liam, who was already walking back towards the yacht with the baby blossoms in tow.

Liam frowns, then comes back up to the group. “Of course not. I refuse to have such an abhorrent man in my presence, especially one that has—” Liam breaks off for a second to glance down at the baby blossoms “—insulted my children, and a friend, no less. Anyone who doesn’t wish to attend can join me.”

They all turn to look at Hana, who doesn’t make eye contact with anyone, and stares out at the sea. “Neville said that he expects me to attend,” she tells them in a low voice.

Riley links her arm through Hana’s. “I’ll go with her.”

“But, Mama,” Eleanor tugs lightly on her mother’s pant leg. “I wanna go with Daddyo.”

“Go ahead, baby,” she allows, shaking her head and chuckling when Liam smiles at her. The baby blossoms follow Liam back onto the yacht as the rest of them reluctantly pile onto Neville’s boat.

On the boat, everyone crowds around Neville as he welcomes them. Olivia, Bertrand, Savannah, and Drake (being pulled along by Jessica) break off to mingle. Riley and Hana grab a glass of champagne from a waiter, and Maxwell and Rowan follow.

They go towards the end of the boat and take a seat on the cushions.

“God,” Rowan comments. Maxwell turns to her, noticing her gaze on Neville. “How did that type of person get married to Hana?”

They both watch Neville as he speaks to Adelaide, looking her up and down without any sense of modesty.

“Poor Hana,” Maxwell mumbles.

He watches Neville, whose eyes reach Hana. Still talking to Riley, she seems oblivious when he begins to walk over to her. But before Neville can get too close, Hana stands and walks over to Rashad. She talks to him with a broad smile over his face, and Neville reddens with anger.

They watch the racing boats leave the starting line. After the boats have gone from view, the group walks around to mingle. Once that got tiring — and Hana was tired of continuously walking away from Neville every other minute — they sat back down with new glasses of champagne, this time joined by Drake.

The five of them sit for hours, Rowan’s head resting on Maxwell’s shoulder, causing his heart to beat faster. Drake watches Jessica in the crowd, while Riley and Hana continue to talk quietly.

What feels like hours later, Jessica comes up to Drake, her smile gone.

“I’m leaving, darling,” she tells him. He stands, holding her hands in his.

“Everything okay?” he asks her.

She shakes her head and lowers her voice. “Papa passed away.”

“What?” Drake breathes. Rowan and Maxwell turn to look, slightly worried.

“He was in the hospital this entire week.” She says nothing else.

“I... I’m so sorry.” Drake brings her hands up to his lips. “Want me to come with?”

She shakes her head, gives him a peck on the cheek, then leaves.

Maxwell thinks that Jessica’s neutral face is odd, but considers that it would be even weirder to break down in front of the entire court.

More time passes, during which Maxwell itches to get up and dance. But there was no chance he was going to have fun at a party whose host had hurt Hana so much. He wishes he can apologize to Rowan; he wanted her time in Cordonia to be fun. He never asked her when she’d be leaving to go back to New York, but he feared that it was probably soon.

When the boats finally come back and reach the finish line, he leads their little group off of the boat, Rowan under his arm.

“Beach party time!” he cries.

- Liam -

Once the races were finally done, Liam leads the children towards the beach. Gabriel and Eleanor were reluctant to leave the yacht, and Liam was glad that they had enjoyed it so much.

He was worried about them lately, and how they were adjusting into their new lives. Not only that, but Liam was also concerned about them missing Theodore. He wanted to ask them about it, but thought that it was better for him to be a fun distraction rather than bring up things for them to worry about.

Thankfully both the children had on swimsuits under their outfits. They leave their things in the limo and race for the water, where some nobles have already begun partying.

Liam laughs with the children as he watches them splash around, but then remembers that he forgot to tell them to put on sunscreen. He wonders for a moment if it really matters, then decides to call them back.

While they get out of the water, Riley and everyone else appears, all of them wearing swimsuits already, except for her and Maxwell. Riley holds a little bag, from which she produces a tube of sunscreen. Once enough is applied to each of the children, they run back into the water towards Hunter and Heather, with Bartie following behind. Liam notices his brother in the water as well, then sees Drake start swimming towards him.

Bertrand proceeds to talk to other noblemen under the shade and away from the water. Hana and Savannah both find towels and sit on the sand under umbrellas. Rowan walks towards the water, then calls out for Maxwell, who still has his shirt on.

“Actually, Rowan,” he says to her. “How about we eat first?”

“Don’t you wanna have some water fun?” she says to him, the water up to her ankles.

Maxwell hesitates, and Rowan grabs his arm to pull him towards the water.

“I promise we can eat later,” she says to him. “But what’s a beach party when you don’t even have fun in the water?”

He seems like he wants to pull back, but Maxwell allows her to guide him.

“You can take off your shirt if you want?” she tells him when they’re almost knee-deep in the water.

Maxwell takes a second to stare at her, then quickly removes his shirt. Once Rowan sees the tattoo, she cries out, “Ohmygod, that’s so cute!”

“Aw,” Riley sounds, still standing next to Liam. “I’m glad they’re getting closer.”

“As am I,” he says. “Though Maxwell being romantically involved with anyone is the last thing I expected, it’s nice to see my friend happy. Especially after everything he’s done for me.”

Liam looks pointedly at her, and smiles when she turns to look at him. “And what has Maxwell done for you?” There’s a sense of joy behind each of her words.

He leans as close to her as decorum will allow to whisper, “He was the one who sponsored you to come to Cordonia, and he was the one who planned for us to have moments alone during the Social Season.”

Liam notices her look at his lips. “Hm,” she mumbles. When Riley looks back at his eyes, her gaze is playful.

“Will you accompany me somewhere?” he asks her.

“Of course.”

Liam looks around to check if anyone was looking at them, then takes her hand and leads her down a trail.

After Riley had left, he had returned to the Forgotten Falls multiple times, but only to stare at it. Only to remember the time alone they had spent together.

He helps her climb up, worried about her leg. When he pulls himself up after her, Liam sees Riley stare at the waterfall. He hoped that the smile on her face was in remembrance of their love, instead of thoughts of what could have been between them — such were the thoughts that were running through Liam’s mind right now.

“Do you want to go for a swim?” Riley asks him.

He knew they weren’t going to climb up to the waterfall like last time, and was elated that she still wanted to get in the water. “You don’t have a swimsuit,” he reminds her.

“So?” She laughs at him, then begins to take off her clothes. Liam quickly averts his gaze, then questions why he even did that.

He takes off his own clothes, but before he can get his shirt over his head, Liam hears a splash. Riley’s clothes are on the ground next to him, and there are ripples in the water. He shrugs the rest of his clothes off in a hurry, then jumps in.

Liam opens his eyes under the water, and sees her legs swimming away from him. He pushes his arms and legs to go after her, slightly mesmerized by how she gently kicked to keep herself afloat.

He lets himself fall to the bottom, then pushes himself up, grabbing her hips in the process and raising her above the water. She cries out, clearly doing her best not to laugh.

He holds onto her, keeping half of her body above the water. She holds his shoulder and looks at him while Liam spins them both in the water.

“The court will be going to Applewood tomorrow,” he tells her.

“I know,” she responds. “I don’t need Maxwell to tell me which event is next. Thankfully, I know it all by myself now.”

He looks up at her, refusing to let her go, and almost brings her down to kiss her, but catches himself.

“Do you think we could leave for Applewood early? You, the children, and I?” Liam asks.

“Why?”

“I want to show them around. It was one of my favorite places growing up. The royal family was rarely bothered at Applewood, as it was mostly kept away from the spotlight. Before the rest of the court arrives, I want them to enjoy that.”

He looks up at her to find Riley staring at him. There’s a smile on her lips, and she slides down to kiss him.

At first it takes him a little by surprise. Liam felt that he forgot what her lips felt like, but like second nature, one of his hands travels to her hair. He runs his fingers through it and relishes in the warmth that radiates off her body. He wants to bring her closer to him, but she pulls away and gives a little laugh.

“What’s so funny?” he asks her, expecting an answer.

She doesn’t give one, but swims over to the edge of the water to pull herself out. He follows her, then pulls her back towards him, pressing their lips together again. When she gently pushes away a second time, Liam wants to almost scold her, but the smile on her face is too contagious.

She lays on the ground and he sits next to her, wanting to touch her again. For now he consoled himself, basking in her presence. Lying next to him was a woman who was not phased by time; even after ten years she never failed to make his heart race, make him want more of her.

They stay like that for a while, her head on his shoulder. He tells her that Applewood is where he’ll announce that the nobility will have their belongings searched. Liam says that he’s concerned about their reactions.

Riley tells him how bad she feels for Hana, and how she wants to help her friend get out of that marriage. Liam mentions that Duke Rashad might be able to assist, and Riley says she’ll try to speak to him.

When Liam wonders aloud how the children may be doing, or whether they ate or not, Riley states that she thinks they should return.

They put on their clothes and share one last, lingering kiss before making their way back to the beach, where the children had just finished eating and said that they wanted to go to sleep.

Liam insists that they go back to the palace in his limo, and knows Riley cannot deny the children’s persisting. On the drive over, Eleanor falls asleep. Liam carries the girl to her room, and after putting her to bed, steals one last kiss from Riley before leading Gabriel back to their quarters.

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