#*I* believed him. i listened to maxwell i trusted him.

[the-valiant-valkyrie]

really like how absolutely no one apologized to maxwell for all the clowning and grief everyone gave him over using 'moon' in quotation marks. calling him superstitious or just a weird little freak. its been almost four years and i haven't heard one 'you know what maxwell, maybe you were onto something when you knew half of everything there was to know about the constant'

[commsroom]

i think it's worth noting how individualism and the "big picture" in wolf 359 are not opposite ideas, but in service of the same goal: people that serve systems, rather than systems that serve people. goddard's recruitment tactic (in its moderately less coercive form) is an appeal to meritocracy and exceptionalism. a once in a lifetime opportunity to be part of something, to matter. it's a lie, of course. but that's the promise.

goddard futuristics and the dear listeners are parallel forces with compatible goals. cutter's proposal is a humanity without humans (save for the select few, like him, who get to make the choices), and that's perfectly acceptable to the dear listeners, who have no concept of the individual. the dear listeners are the only truly non-human characters in wolf 359, and they're narratively presented as a hollow reflection of humanity - borrowing eiffel's voice + appearance, unable to understand music - the ability to replicate, but not create. i think the implications are pretty clear, in the context of wolf 359's anti-corporate themes.

back to goddard's recruitment: minkowski wants to prove herself, to be in command, but she's initially too caught up on doing things the right way to be a leader for the people around her. the only tip in the dssppm she forgets is the one about effective communication. even her musical: hera is the only one willing to take part, and minkowski will only give her a small role. hilbert is a scientist who seems to believe he alone can revolutionize medicine, with no outside input or cooperation. of course, he not only fails, but his research results in further harm. goddard selects for people with this type of self-centered ambition... and also for people who are deeply isolated. eiffel and hera were not recruited through flattery. they're company property, and they've always been aware that their 'choice' was either 'agree to this' or 'we'll make things worse for you until you agree.' even with such a small crew, this creates an underclass, and a very pointed attempt at division of interests. and explains a lot about s1 dynamics.

which isn't to say eiffel and hera don't have their own problems re: communication. goddard's AI program is inherently isolating and pushes for ruthless competition under threat of death. hera isn't used to being able to trust people, and is extremely reluctant to accept help, even while she's suffering. eiffel, as the communications officer, is an advocate for communication and an effective mediator, but he's also extremely self-centered. it's very purposeful that eiffel's part of shut up and listen is paralleled by maxwell's logs about the dear listeners: "i've spent so much time thinking about how we're going to get a message across, and i haven't been thinking at all about reception. but what if the first challenge is figuring out how to listen? how much have we already missed?"

wolf 359 is a show that highly values the individual, personal identity and personal connection, but with the condition that connection is key. every person matters, but no one can make it alone. at the heart of the show, what you have is a group of very willful, very disparate personalities who have to learn how to see beyond their own assumptions and understand each other as full people with their own lives and desires and interiority - and then learn to move forward together. ultimately, it all comes down to that exchange between hilbert and eiffel: "you did not beat me. you needed help from AI, from minkowski." / "uh, yeah. it's called being part of the crew. you ever meet anyone that could get things done all on their lonesome?"

[storyofmychoices]

Shadows and Deception: Parts III & IV

[Series Masterlist] [My Choices Masterlists]

Books: The Royal Romance (post-TRF), Crimes of Passion I, Desire & Decorum, Blades of Light and Shadow I Characters: Trystan Thorne (M, no race mentioned), Marguerite Thorne, Olivia Nevrakis, Queen Amalas, Maxwell Beaumont, Daniel, King Liam (no race mentioned), Tyril Starfury, Nia Ellarious, Prince Hamid Pairings: Olivia Nevrakis x Queen Amalas ; M!Trystan Thorne x (no gender given) MC (mentioned) ; King Liam x Riley (mentioned) Rating/Warnings: Teen, mentions of blood, stab wound, knives/daggers (no graphic descriptions) Word Count: Part III: ~900; Part IV: ~600 : total ~1,500

Summary: So many rumors, so many royal suspects, but where does the truth lie?

Catch up on Parts I and II here

III. From now on, it is our task to suspect each and every one amongst us. (Justice Wargrave)

Disbelief and unease swept through the ballroom as words of foul play circulated. Whispers swirled, sending ripples of suspicion among the guests. Accusatory glances were thrown all around, even toward some of the most prominent and unexpecting of guests.

Trystan Thorne, the once Heir Apparent of Drakovia, found himself caught in the web. 

The sound of his name caught his ear as he listened to a particularly pompous party-goer: "I can't believe they let him in. You've read the stories, I'm sure. How he murdered his fiancée."

"Allegedly," he interrupted, his brow arching as he met the guest's gaze. "I was charged, yes. But as for the truth, that remains to be seen."

"I didn't know," the guest stammered realizing the Prince stood beside them. All color drained from their face. 

"That's the thing, though, isn't it? You don't know. Therefore, I suggest you save your breaths for words you know to be true," Trystan warned. "Being accused of one crime does not give any reason to suspect me of another." He shook his head, walking away. He marveled at the lack of effort that was made before his name was thrown into the pool of suspects. 

Marguerite Thorne, Trystan's half-sister and the youngest Princess of Drakovia (if one considered illegitimate children as such), also faced her own share of rumors.

A group of socialites huddled together, casting not-so-covert glances in her direction, snickering as they went. 

One of them strode up to the Princess, waving her phone in her hand. "Princess Marguerite, any comment to these rumors that you orchestrated the murder of Countess Juliana to frame your brother? Jealous much?" She scoffed, a look of disdain filling her face. “Hoping to find yourself some new attention here?”

Marguerite's eyes flashed with a mix of anger and disbelief. "How absurd! To even indulge your delusions for the sake of my amusement would be an insult to my integrity." She chuckled as she sauntered away, flipping her hair over her shoulder. She refused to give them the satisfaction of turning back. 

Queen Amalas became the subject of whispered suspicions. Some guests cast accusatory glances her way, questioning the depths to which she would go for knowledge and secrets, and what actions she might take to protect them. Her composed demeanor remained unwavering. 

Amalas brushed up against the Duchess, her words a whisper in her ear. "Have you made any progress?" 

"There are still many questions to be asked," Olivia replied, her fingers brushing against her Queen's. "Have you turned up anything of worth?"

Her brow rose briefly, a secret smile playing on her lips, "All in good time." Amalas pulled away, tucking her clutch safely under her arm. 

"Maybe I should search you," Olivia teased, pulling her back. "I could certainly make it enjoyable... for the both of us." 

"I trust you could. Another time, my love." 

Olivia glided through the halls, continuing to conduct her investigation until a particularly ridiculous display caught her attention. ‘Who could dance at a time like this?’ She marched forward, ready to put an end to it when a whisper floating through the ballroom hooked her attention. She paused, listening to the murmured words. 

Apparently, the Ottoman Prince was conducting an investigation himself. She listened as a guest confided that she had overheard an intense exchange between Lord Beaumont and the waiter earlier in the evening. She wasn't clear on the exact details, but what was clear was the tension between them. Between this and his odd behavior early, Olivia had a new suspect to question. ‘What had he gotten himself into now?'

Maxwell Beaumont, emboldened by his carefree attitude, danced to his own music, refusing to let the party become a lifeless bore. After all, someone had to keep the guests' spirits up.  

Olivia approached him, her gaze sharp and penetrating. "Maxwell, do you care to explain yourself?"

"I'm not sure what you mean." He offered her little attention. His body moved in rhythm as he attempted to beatbox his favorite dance beats. 

Olivia grumbled, "If you could contain yourself for even five minutes." 

"I could, but then, who would carry this party on their shoulders!?" Maxwell winked and jumped atop the closest table. "Breakdance battle—15 minutes. You'll know where."

"You can't do that!" Olivia's words were lost as he dashed off into the crowd before she could ask about the rumors she had just overheard about him and Daniel's argument before the party. There was definitely something going on with him. 

Nia Ellarious, the priestess of light who had once been possessed by the evil entity, the Dreadlord, faced her own share of suspicion. Tyril Starfury approached her gently, offering reassurance. "I understand your concerns, but it's customary for the person who discovers the body to be considered a probable suspect. We must remain vigilant and trust that the truth will prevail."

"What if there's more to it?" Nia worried. She had escaped the darkness that had taken over her, but the nightmares of its presence remained. "It can't happen again."

His grasp on his blade tightened as he scanned the crowd. "It won't. Tonight's events are entirely human-created."

Still, others whispered the name of another. 

With her known predilection for daggers and her often cold and calculating demeanor, Duchess Olivia Nevrakis's name caught on the lips of some who dared cast a shadow toward her.

IV. Truth arises from the seemingly irrelevant. (C. Auguste Dupin)

Whispers slithered through the air, their words laden with suspicion and hidden agendas. As tension thickened like a dense fog looming over the proceedings, some of the distinguished guests took it upon themselves to investigate the crime, each motivated by their own agenda. The ballroom became a web of whispered conversations, covert glances, and hidden alliances.

Trystan's pulse thrummed with curiosity, the exhilaration of the mystery running high. He was determined to unravel this crime as he had others in New York. Memories of his own false accusation lingered, igniting a fire within him to clear his name. His fingers tapped a steady rhythm against his chin, his mind racing with thoughts of the mysterious silver key. Could it be the key to the truth, or was it merely a red herring calling him astray?

Olivia, fueled by an unwavering determination to shield her chosen family and to exact justice, wove through the crowd. Her sharp mind looked for connections between hushed conversations, hidden agendas, and the untimely death. The corner of her lips pulled up faintly at the promise of more to come. 

Now if only she could find Maxwell... Pinning him down should have been the least of her problems; after all, it was Beaumont. He was the least stealthy person she knew. However, he seemed to have made it a game to elude her at every turn, a dangerous dance of cat and mouse developing. Olivia's frustration grew with each attempt to corner him. Foreshadowing a perilous end for the little mouse, or squid as it were, this shark was determined to catch him one way or another. Yet, as she pursued answers to her questions, she couldn't help but wonder if his unusual behavior was denial as he processed his grief.

Balancing duty and his loyalty to Nia, Tyril trod with caution. After Aerin Valleros, he wasn't about to trust another royal. The remnants of the Dreadlord's grip lingered in his memory, fueling his determination to protect Nia from any lurking shadows. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword. He would be ready this time. 

Amalas employed her cunning and manipulation to take advantage of the situation, using it to extract every fragment of information she could, regardless of its relation to the events of the evening. All knowledge was power. She maneuvered through the labyrinth of people as silent as a shadow, her movements graceful and elusive. She made her way to a small balcony above. Her perceptive gaze scanned the room, watching and waiting. Her pulse quickened, but she quickly regained her composure. Her focus took a moment longer as her gaze followed the alluring movements of her scarlet-haired Duchess.

Prince Hamid, torn between his formal obligations and his innate desire for justice, skillfully navigated the crowd. He listened to stories and deciphered what information he could learn. His charisma and charm proved invaluable in gaining the trust of potential witnesses. His calm persona reassured guests into fully opening up to him with any facts or theories they may have.

The King's Guard moved throughout the proceedings, questioning everyone who may have heard or seen something. They took particular interest in those who moved about in the shadows, investigating on their own, for perhaps one of them was sticking too close in order to cover his/her own tracks.

Regardless of the underlying reason for their inquiries, there was a puzzle to be solved, and no one was going to let the blame fall on them, especially the exiled Prince of Drakovia.

[Continue...]

Thanks for reading! I hope you are enjoying they mystery. There are definitely a lot of rumors and suspicious behaviors, but what do any of them mean?

Tomorrow, an unlikely(?) suspect emerges as the murder weapon is found! The conclusion will be posted Monday! Happy sleuthing!

Giveaway Information: complete details here

3 winners will be chose for minimalist portraits with @bayleedrawsx

Any one who comments on or reblogs with a comment with their theories, thoughts, ideas, ect. on any and all sections of the story will be entered in the giveaway. (1 entry per section)

Prompts: For @choicesbookclub COP ; @choicesmonthlychallenge Private Investigator Event

Special thanks: to JenBeaumontJones (IG) for beta reading

[lycanlovingvampyre]

MAG 135 Relisten

Activity on my first listen: New day, new session of putting up a new fence!

"Tell him that Maxwell Rayner sends his regards and offers – sanctuary. A time of holy darkness is at hand, when the Eye will close forever, and in the spirit of the friendship they once shared, he offers an opportunity to surrender. Forsake the Ceaseless Watcher, abandon your position, and you shall be spared in the blind world to come." Well, she jinxed it... (Also, kind of foreshadowing of Jonah's age? Yeah, he's not referenced directly here, but I mean it's canon?)

"I remembered in my heart that deep down they were vicious, spiteful people who used their faith to hurt others" That’s something you hear quite often from religious fanatics...

"But the natural state of the universe is darkness." ... She's kind of right? Also another overlap to the Vast again (another one being dark water, deep seas.)

"And I tell them to look again at ‘life,’ at the pain and suffering and misery that it brings with it." Is the Peoples' Church antinatalistic?

"Did you know that the oldest single thing on Earth given life by the light is the Great Basin bristlecone pine tree?" GAsdlkasf, that's another question showing up in the Jonathan asks you things-video xD The question starts sooo dramatic and then it's a happy little tree!

"Otherwise, well, weight is very important when planning a launch, and it could hardly have escaped their notice that there were four people, in that rocket. Three astronauts, and one unlucky nyctophobe, sealed in a lightless box, silenced, but not sedated, apparently indistinguishable from the rest of the supplies." Kind of a pity this gets swept under a rug. We hear pretty little about that one, so little that after my first listen I wondered if I have just dreamed this part.

"I suppose there is also an element of provocation here as well. Even with the loss of Darvish, we will still be victorious." Totally forgot about Darvish again... Had to look up the name, absolutely could not remember where it came up before. (If anyone's wondering, MAG 109.)

JON: "I don’t – like interacting with the rest of the Institute these days. The way they look at me, I – I don’t know. I don’t know what they’ve heard, what the rumors going around are, but –" Is it different now than with Gertrude? Gertrude was always into some bullshit, all her assistants died (how many were there? 5? Fiona, Emma, Eric, Sarah and Michael), did any of the other Institute staff ever noticed anything? Sasha at least got that the old lady thing was just a facade...

ELIAS: "There was. (handcuffs rattle) It required you to be absent." BASIRA: (sigh) "You wanted him to go in there." ELIAS: "And you would never have allowed it, had you been present." BASIRA: "Why?" ELIAS: (cheek) "Would you simply believe I wanted you and Daisy reunited?" BASIRA: "No." Yeah good, don't trust Elias' bullshit. It'd be more believable if he said he thought Daisy could act as a "replacement" for Melanie, since they lost her as a fighter. Does Elias consider Basira a threat to his plan? Or just another tool? She gets quite hostile towards his precious Archivist, which could be dangerous.

ELIAS: "Fine. Consider it a test. Things are – coming, things that will need John to be far stronger and more willing to use his connection to our patron. His performance during the Unknowing was… disappointing. I needed a way to force him to harness his ability more acutely than he had before. The coffin was a useful tool, Daisy an adequate bait." I never believed Elias' stupid Archivist training montage. I've talked about this before, I always thought it was a weak excuse and I'm happy it was just this: an excuse XD

BASIRA: "But what’s the point? You aren’t getting your ritual off from in here, so what do you need him for? (inhale) What’s so important you need him stronger?" Yes, exactly this! I also thought there is no way Elias is a threat right now. But his most dangerous expertise has always been manipulation based on knowing more than others do and this he can perform quite adequately from the inside of a prison cell it seems. As long as he got connections to the outside, he'll find a way. And I have to say, he does provide rather good excuses for his "reason" to make Jon stronger by whipping up ritual after ritual and enemy after enemy who has to be stopped.

ELIAS: "You thought the final death of Maxwell Rayner might have sufficiently derailed them? Yes, that was my hope too, but alas it would seem not." BASIRA: "Maxwell… You. You called in that tip, sent us out to their warehouse." ELIAS: "And now I’m sending you out again." This for example. In combination with his "I can't see inside the Dark so I don't know if they've already been stopped so you have to go and look for yourselves" is quite a good excuse. I wonder if Elias hoped he could have somehow marked Jon with the Dark back then already, like with Melanie in MAG 102.

@a-mag-a-day

[newtypezaku]

Do you mind if I ask your top 10 favorite characters (can be male or female) from all of the media that you loved (can be anime/manga, books, movies or tv series)? And why do you love them? Thanks....

I don't mind at all! In no particular order...

Yang Wen-li (Legend of the Galactic Heroes): The man is simultaneously the most interesting and most boring guy in the room. He outdoes his superiors in talent, principles, and humility, and although he'll always claim to hate working harder than he has to, he always does what he believes to be right in spite of them. Republican democracy continues to exist in his universe because of his actions and the guidance he gave to his adopted son.

Wakamiya Shinobu (Chihayafuru): Shinobu has no peers at her age and came to accept Chihaya as a worthy challenger and friend, which also helped undo some of the damage from her grandmother's strict upbringing. Which you'd almost never guess she had, because she's kind of a disaster when left to her own devices. And like most of the cast, she's a gigantic dork when not dialed into game mode.

Amuro Ray and Char Aznable (Mobile Suit Gundam, Zeta Gundam, Char's Counterattack): Original MSG wasn't my first Gundam, or even my second, or even my third. But when I finally watched that doomed Toonami run, it clicked. While the roles they occupied weren't that different from other shows of the time, the WAY they occupied those roles gave new potential to the 30-minute toy commercial. Going through the various sequels, different adaptations, and side stories, you realize that they're actually not that different, and that makes their rivalry that much more personal and intense.

Judau Ashta (ZZ Gundam): Sticking with Gundam, ZZ required a second watch for me to really appreciate what was happening. Like Amuro and Camille before him, Judau comes from a broken home and is surrounded by adults who've given up on him ever amounting to anything. All of his friends are in the same boat. And they experience positive growth over the course of the show, as they get drafted into the resistance and are given trust and responsibility. Their arc is actually one of the most satisfying, I think, out of all UC crews.

I'm also going to include Duo Maxwell (Gundam Wing) and Allenby Beardsley (G Gundam) with the other Gundam characters because I thought they were cool when I was a teenager.

Date Masamune (Sengoku Basara): This dude, riding around on a horse with handlebars with his clan styled like a biker gang, screaming bad English phrases like "PUT THE GUNS ON!" in feudal times, helped take my weebishness to the next level by stirring an interest in Japanese history that has resulted in my bothering bemused staff at more local history museums than I'd care to count.

Mizuno Ami (Sailor Moon): The best girl in a franchise full of them, Ami is another character who gets top marks because of first impressions in the Toonami days. As a dork, of course I was going to crush on the smart one. Fiercely loyal to her friends, and willing to take action well outside her comfort zone when the situation demands it.

Jigglypuff (Pokemon): She just roams the countryside demanding that people listen to her song, and then draws all over them with magic marker when they inevitably fall asleep? Extremely powerful force of nature. Unstoppable.

[walkingstackofbooks]

TNG 4x12 The Wounded, and 5x03 Ensign Ro thoughts (rewatching, so possible future spoilers for DS9 too)

I’ve temporarily paused my DS9 re-watch after 2x20 Maquis Part 1 to go through all the Cardassian episodes in TNG to get a better picture of the build up. Honestly they're so spread out, I'm not surprised I can't remember much of it!

4x12 The Wounded

"They're our allies now"??? Not really, Troi, you're just at peace, you're not even going to have a treaty for the next three years!

KEIKO :D

It's like they've never eaten together before???

I know it's a throwaway line, but Miles' mum not believing in replicators and being "like a master chef" feels like something that should have come up in DS9, with Sisko's cooking habits. At the least, it would have prepared him for his time in Alixus' cult in Paradise

Their smiles and laughter together is cute :3

I like the Cardassian trying to make friends. <3 He really picked the wrong person though 😅

Miles pretending he's good with Cardassians - no, your wife knows you better thank that XD

I do like miles when I tried to better himself. You go have a friendlyish conversation with a Cardassian

"It's not you I hate, Cardassian. I hate what I became because of you." It's interesting when Miles gets self aware; it's a shame it doesn't always stick and he has to keep relearning these things

This Gul Macet is pretty damn decent, that was a good job done there

"I consider the matter closed." - Picard is a good captain

I like this burgeoning trust between the two captains :3

Picard calm questioning of Maxwell is so well done, I do like him

"I'll accept the judgement of history."

"When you've been through what we have, you tend to get inside someone." 👀 Okay Miles...

Of course there's a Star Trek episode where they win through the power of friendship and song :P

"Take this message to your leaders, Gul Macet. We'll be watching." THE STEEL

Really glad I re-watched, I'd forgotten how much I enjoy Picard, and it was a great Miles episode. Also interesting that our very first view of Cardassians are of some good ones.

5x03 Ensign Ro

It's so, so weird watching this after ds9 - knowing loads about Bajorans rather than this being our first one

Ro!

No, that earring is just rude

Interesting, "The Bajoran custom has the family name first, the individual's second... It's an old custom. Most Bajora these days accept the distortion of their names in order to assimilate." That isn't very DS9, but I get the feeling Ro is from the Bajora disapora, and not Bajor? Maybe tradition stayed stronger there.

Also interesting for the people to be Bajora and not Bajorans.

Damn but I love her

She reminds me a lot of Kira actaully, and now I want them to meet

"You were innocent bystanders for decades as the Cardassians took our homes, as they violated and tortured our people in the most hideous ways imaginable, as we were forced to flee." "We were saddened by those events but they occurred within the designated borders of the Cardassian Empire."

^> How long have the Federation been at war with Cardassia. *googles* 20 years, okay. Because they were fighting a war, and that's hardly standing by? But I guess they weren't when the Cardassians originally occupied Bajor. We don't actually know why or when the border wars started, but memory-beta attributes some distrust due to the Bajor occupation.

GUINAN! I'd forgotten how incredible she is. "Sounds like someone is like to know." Perfection.

Of course she's angry, she did well even if it was against the rules

I'm glad Guinan exists <3

Yes, he's listening to her. And she has a hell of an explanation.

Oooh, I had guessed that no-one was on board, but I assumed a last-minute transport - clever to have guessed this from the start and left them planetside!

Love a happy ending with a corrupt official probably going to prison :D

"That's an interesting challenge. And I rarely refuse an interesting challenge."

The earring shouldn't have to be a condition! It should be accepted as standard! I get that it's supposed to be a cute ending but it's wrong

I love Ro a lot :3 This episode is so interesting to re-watch after DS9, it's super interesting to get more Bajoran points of view.

[catofadifferentcolor]

Terrible Fic Ideas #9: DA:I, but make it amnesiac!mage!Inquisitor

The thing I love (and hate) about Dragon Age: Inquisition is that the Inquisitor can be literally anyone. Their background is barely worth a passing mention, which irritates me even as it provides endless room for fic writers. And given that it’s halfway through the game before the Inquisitor gets their memories of the Conclave back, I figured why not take it a step further? Why not have an Inquisitor who has absolutely no memories of their life before the Anchor?

Imagine this:

One very confused human male mage wakes up chained to the the Chantry floor. He has absolutely zero memories of anything from before that moment and after comparing his description with the Missing Presumed Dead list they eventually conclude that he’s Maxwell Trevelyan, Enchanter from Oswick.

Max, despite his lack of memories, retains all of his previous skills - reading, writing, slightly unusual magics that tend to come out mid-battle, &c. He’s also a fairly polite, charming, helpful man, which fits with what little is known about Trevelyan. 

The plot follows the game. Mages or Templars, it really doesn’t matter, though I’m inclined to lean towards the latter because it means when Dorian appears on the scene he’s stressed and failing to cope with what happened in Redcliffe. So when he thinks Max looks familiar, he chalks it down to them being distant cousins and never gives it another thought. Not even when it comes out Max speaks Tevene. (It is the language of the oldest magic books, after all, and maybe the family kept up the habit. Who knows? Not Max.)

None of the details matter until Here Lies The Abyss, Because it’s within The Fade they learn that Max didn’t interrupt the ritual with the Orb. He’s not even Maxwell Trevelyan. He’s a minor but powerful Tevinter Magister who was Corypheus’s second-in-command, Domitian Parthalan, who was there to help Corypheus murder the Divine.

Even after The Fade, Max remembers none of his previous life. Maybe this explains some of the weird dreams he’s been having and skills he’s displayed, but he doesn’t feel like Parthalan anymore. He can scarcely believe that he ever was Parthalan.

He doesn’t try to keep it from the Inner Circle - even if he wanted to, Cassandra and Dorian were with him in The Fade and neither is the type to bury this. 

Naturally, this puts a strain on all of his relationships.

The worst is with Dorian, because before all of this they were together, but none of the others are overly thrilled with him. Some wonder if he was lying about his amnesia, or if he got his memory back before The Fade and didn’t say anything, or if they should trust someone who once practiced blood magic and whose estate still owns hundreds of slaves, &c. This goes on for a while.

Except with the Iron Bull, who understands people coming back different than they were before thanks to all his lovely experiences with the Qun. ("Think of it as Reeducation.")

The rest of the fic is basically everyone coming to accept Max for who he is now, not who he used to be - Max included. This takes longer for some than others. 

There’s also the angst of trying to decide whether to tell anyone outside the Inner Circle the truth. (Probably not, but there’s a lot to be said for telling the truth. After all, Parthalan is still a charismatic Magister people in Tevinter might listen to instead of Corypheus - indeed, he was half of the reason people started listening to Corypheus in the first place, because gods know all his other minions had all the charisma of a dead frog, - and who would be invaluable help to Dorian’s post-game efforts. Plus, there’s always a chance someone will recognize him.)

But the key moments are when Max chooses to continue living as the person as he is now, and Dorian deciding that what they have now is worth more than his fears Max will suddenly regain his memories and all that entails. 

Otherwise, checkmarks include: 1) amnesia angst, coupled with disturbing dreams and the vague sensation something is not quite correct; 2) Max and Dorian pinning before finally getting together, then pinning while technically still together after The Fade because of revelations; 3) at least one instance of Max trying and failing to interact with someone who knew the real Max before the Conclave; and 4) all the angst that comes from realizing you were once the type of person you now absolutely hate and would still be that person if not for the amnesia that made you who you are now.

Because Domitian Parthalan was, before The Conclave, one of the worst Tevinter had to offer - cruel, power-hungry, and sadistic but in a handsome, charming, educated, well-bred way that makes me think of Hannibal Lecter. Blood magic, naturally, and lots of magical skill in general, but a wide knowledge of art and literature that makes him that much more cultured than the Tevinter Magister stereotype. Silver-tongued. Apex predator. (This should come across even when he has amnesia, always with the companions adding it's good you're on our side.)

So yeah, in retrospect I think I mashed together Revan's story arc from KotOR with my current Dorian/Inquisitor obsession... but I'd kill to see this now that I've thought of it. If you do adopt this bun, please let me know - I'm dying to see.

More Terrible Fic Ideas

[ironmandeficiency]

I saw y'all discussing potential zodiac signs for Pascal's characters, what's your take on the major ones? I personally believe Marcus Pike is a cancer, Catfish's a pisces, Din's a virgo, Whiskey's an aries, Oberyn's either a leo or a libra, Ezra's a gemini or a sag, but I lean towards gemini. Javier's the poster child for Scorpio. Don't know about Maxwell Lord.

pedro character star signs

i’m so sorry it took so long, i was tweaking this so much bc i wanted to make sure i got it right! these are just what i think based on my astrology opinions, i hope you like it! 💕 i added their moon signs for flair bc i can. gonna tag a few friends i think may be interested, hope it’s not an inconvenience

max phillips: aries sun & moon. his ambition and charisma paired with the carefree attitude and optimism are an optimum fire sign duality and despite the fact i shouldn't, i love it so much. he has an inner child that he spoils with the riches of his conquests (good and bad) & gets emotional contentment when he succeeds in achieving his goals. knows what he wants & is quick to make those wants known. you never have to worry about where you stand with him because he will not hesitate to tell you.

javier peña: taurus sun with scorpio moon (the real guy is a taurus & i can see it but w heavy scorpio influence). he has his own structure and routine and will fight to the death to maintain it. very work oriented & does his best to rationalize his emotion-driven scorpio moon with his taurean logic, it's a tossup as to whether it works half the time. has a lot of emotional needs that aren't always met day to day & thats why he smokes and drinks and fucks. but don’t let anything make you doubt his love for you because the only thing stronger than his stubborn streak is his heart and its capacity to love you so damn much.

maxwell lord: libra sun with a sagittarius moon. the charisma? attractive and engaging af. oddly adept at chameleoning himself into whatever social group he's trying to vibe with. will draw eyes no matter what because so many people know him & if they don't already, they sure as hell want to. it takes him a while to learn to balance healthy relationships and his work life but when he does, you can visibly see how much healthier he is because of it. normally tends to his emotions in private but with help, he can start sharing a bit more. more optimistic than he sometimes should be but it could be worse

frankie morales: pisces sun with a cancer moon. his caring and sometimes cautious nature (with a twinge of homicidal tendencies) make him one that you don't just casually fuck with sexually or otherwise. catches feelings very easy & makes a lot of emotionally-driven decisions. these two water signs have a propensity towards codependence & defensiveness when hurt. is at his best when he feels loved and is supported by those he loves. emotions are always fluctuating and there’s some trouble with self-discipline (which is not the same as self-deprecation). because of this, he needs someone who can ground him

jack "whiskey" daniels: his swagger!! his charm!! his generosity!! the protectiveness over people he cares about!! this has the makings of a leo sun. this charismatic sun sign paired with his capricorn moon create a living example of the most balanced "work hard, play hard" you've ever seen. has a tendency to set high standards for himself and others & is a smidge more accepting when people fuck up, wanting to help them be better in the future. his emotions are often repressed in the name of responsibility but when he feels safe, he isn’t shy about them in the slightest. very confident in his skills & one of those that he’s the proudest of is his ability to cheer you up when you’re sad

din djarin: he is the most virgo virgo to ever virgo, a double whammy of it in both his sun & moon placements. very logical, disciplined, and tradition-oriented. knows how to bargain and budget, approaches problems with as little emotional attachment as he can (doesn't always work though), and is selfless af. needs something to keep him from being a worry wart bc otherwise he will spend every waking moment fretting over anything he can find. remarkably well-rounded & somehow the most emotionally stable

ezra: everything about this man radiates aquarius sun + gemini moon and you will never convinve me otherwise. he's just enough of an intellectual elitist (the big words and flowy shakespearian vocabulary) for it to border on unique and fun & annoying as fuck. every aquarian i've met has a quirk that sets them apart from everyone else & ezra's quirk (besides murder) is his vocabulary. it takes him a long time to learn to not talk over people on accident (sometimes he does on purpose just to be a bastard), but you can tell when he’s really trying to be conscious of it.

marcus moreno: now this man is what you call a pisces. a softie with a heart of gold that is constantly being underestimated, he has more power than most think. his silly and carefree nature detracts from the badassery he's capable of so it sometimes catches you off guard when he goes into Badass In Charge™️ mode but it’s there. his moon is also in pisces, which adds to his gentility and desire to be understood by his partner. this man just needs some love dammit, give it to him already!! his empathy makes him the Cool Dad™️ bc missy and literally any other kid get the vibe of “yeah this adult will actually listen to me and value my opinions”

dave: capricorn sun, aries moon. he thrives with people who can handle their own shit competency kink anyone? and doesn’t have patience with those who should know better. his standards are higher than a stoned giraffe, and is at his best in controlled environments. has a strong sense of self & a short list of people he would risk it all for. not as outwardly expressive but he does have a couple cues that you learn over time. also knows what he wants and is very meticulous in how he goes about getting it; there are very few places where he takes no for an answer. is a very good provider but don’t expect him to be mushy when you thank him for things he does for you.

oberyn martell: gemini sun & leo moon. he’s got more charisma than can fit in the ocean and sometimes it gets him into trouble. this man thrives on validation from loved ones. there is never a worry about not knowing what he’s feeling because oh boy is this man expressive. he’s a protector and a provider (and a gossip but don’t let him hear you say that). can and will cause a scene if there’s ample opportunity, he enjoys watching shit go down. will only interfere if it directly impacts him or someone he really cares about but otherwise will just pop the popcorn and pull up a seat. somehow has all the details of everything that ever happens but you learn to not question it.

pero tovar: scorpio sun (but specifically october scorpio) & aquarius moon. he’s highly rational when it comes to emotions but does have a temper. he’s observant af of his environment & the emotions of everyone around him, and chooses his actions carefully based on those. doesn’t confront his deeper emotions as often as he should bc it’s easier to default to Angy™️ and let the rest of the world come to their own assumptions. has no tolerance for lies and other bs, wants the truth and though it makes him seem power-hungry and manipulative, that’s not his intention. it’s just his way of looking for someone he can trust with the most intimate parts of him

marcus pike: this man? taurus sun, cancer moon. has a fear of abandonment that takes a while to quell but once it’s gone, he’s all in. he’s very empathetic and observant af, will know exactly what you need before you voice said need. will feel guilty for his baggage sometimes and the guilt will make him recluse for a short period until he’s reminded just how appreciated he is. does not play around when it comes to affection & is very eager to give and receive it whenever possible

my friends that i think might be interested: @scribbledghost @autumnleaves1991-blog @dyke--grayson @max--phillips @dindjarindiaries @pikemoreno @ohnopoe @pedropasscals @forever-rogue @engineeredfiction @bitchin-beskar

[abiggaynerd]

What made me ship maxwil. Sorry this is really just a jumbled mess JKNKJN but hope u enjoy reading it anyway. Under a cut because its too fucking long

Wilson and Maxwell are don’t starve’s main characters. They show up in the original game’s intro movie together. 

Maxwell speaks to Wilson on the radio, offers him a deal, and Wilson takes it. 

Now, think about that- Wilson, with no hesitation, takes a stranger’s dubious offer from a radio that is NOT supposed to be two-ways. He ruins his life without even thinking about it. 

This shows us how DESPERATE Wilson is for human contact. 

Wilson lives alone in a house, far away from his family who hates him, and not a single friend. Some might say Wilson doesn’t like people. But what i see is a person who ADORES people, being forced to be apart from them (exactly like maxwell) because no one will take him seriously. Wilson is working this hard because he is convinced if he just makes one good invention, has one big break, then people will finally respect and like him. It’s not just that he wants knowledge for knowledge’s sake.

He has someone offering him exactly what he wants, and it’s not just the offer, it’s the fact someone is talking to him. Wilson wants someone to listen to him, and believe in him, and that is JUST as important as the knowledge, if not more so. Maxwell has complete faith in Wilson’s ability to make this portal. Wilson trusts maxwell more than anyone else, simply because he’s gotten the smallest bit of positive attention. 

That makes his betrayal absolutely crushing for Wilson. Wilson is the only person who explicitly says he hates maxwell in the first game. He feels betrayed much more personally than maxwell intended, he’s furious, and he finds out maxwell didn’t actually believe in him the way he thought. Wilson is forced once again to completely rely on himself. Wilson likes himself and believes in himself a lot, but he sort of has to. No one else will. And that’s a hard thing to deal with.

Wilson goes through the worlds, because he wants out, obviously. He is the only one to canonly reach the end of adventure mode. Wickerbottom may think he’s an idiot, but he’s the one who made it to the end of the line, not her. 

Wilson is likely expecting a boss fight here, or something, but what he gets is a sad, frail old man who is suicidal and has nothing. Maxwell has completely given up. When you free max, it says “take pity?” Wilson does. Wilson KNOWS this will end badly for him. Wilson KNOWS he’s not going to get anything in return. But Wilson frees him, because Wilson is unequivocally GOOD. Wilson cares about people, deeply, and would do anything for them. Wilson does not like to see people suffer, and Wilson will take on the pain for himself if he can. Maxwell has hurt him more than anyone, but Wilson still takes his place. 

Now if we look at this from Maxwell’s perspective: Wilson is just another person to trick into coming here. Maxwell is putting on a show, using all his charisma, doing what They brought him here for. It’s the same as everyone else. 

Something interesting about adventure mode is that maxwell does NOT want you to continue. He does his absolute best to keep you from getting to the end. Scaring you, killing you, bribing you. You think it’s cruelty or fear of you at first glance, but really: maxwell does NOT want you to suffer the way he does. 

Maxwell brings you here, puts you in a terrible world, but in his mind, NOTHING is worse than the throne. Look at him on the throne and look at him as a survivor- on the throne he has nothing but despair and the desire to die. As a survivor, he’s extremely peppy in comparison. The throne has ruined maxwell, and even though he’s past the point of caring if you come to the constant, he does NOT want to be the reason someone else is on the throne. 

But is the door itself a cry for help? Was that a subconscious thing maxwell did? Charlie doesn’t have an adventure mode. She seems quite happy on the throne. Or is it because the Them are tired of maxwell? Compare Charlie’s world to Maxwell’s: considerably harder. Charlie’s world may allow you to revive yourself, but Maxwell’s is objectively easier. Less bosses, less danger, more resources. Maxwell also tries to give you a world you can have everything you need in in adventure mode, which is THE BEST he can do for you- something probably only allowed because the Them know the survivors won’t take his offer. 

When you get to the throne, despite being in absolute mental agony, maxwell cannot make himself trick you into freeing him. Which he COULD. He could pretend the key will let you out, he could pretend it’s something he REALLLY doesn’t want you to do because oooooo its gonna free youuuu and send you to earthhhh. But he cannot allow himself to do that, because this is the last bit of kindness and humanity he has- giving you the knowledge that the throne is the worst fate possible here. He clearly doesn’t think you are going to do it until you do- he’s shocked and thrilled when he stands up. 

Wilson frees him, knowing everything, after everything, and that SHOCKS him. Maxwell considers Wilson his savior. He owes everything to him. 

They don’t see each other again until cyclum. Wilson attacks maxwell, and while some people may think it’s because he’s angry, i think it’s because he SAW maxwell die and assume it’s either an insanity hallucination come to kill him or a new monster come to trick him. When max doesn’t attack when Wilson stops, he stops. 

Now, there are a lot of things Wilson could do. He could leave, he could kill him, he could ignore him. But Wilson feeds him. Maxwell is TOTALLY FINE. Max can get food himself. And food is a valuable resource. Wilson chooses to feed maxwell, because Wilson is good. They camp together, another thing Wilson doesn’t have to do. Wilson then decides to WORK WITH MAXWELL ON A PORTAL. AGAIN. Wilson makes the ACTIVE CHOICE to trust maxwell, with NO REASON TO. 

Now, we don’t know exactly what happens when the other survivors get there, but it stands to reason Wilson protects and defends max against the other survivors. Even though the portal failed AGAIN, and its possible max was fucking with him AGAIN. Wilson CHOSES to trust Max, even with evidence that could imply otherwise. 

If we look at the quotes, Wilson banters with max a lot, and can be annoyed with him. But when max is dead, Wilson explicitly reassures him he’s already working on reviving him. 

Maxwell, like Wilson, thrives on attention. He needs it, even if its negative. It’s easier for him to be someone to hate than just a sad man to pity. His persona- where he misses the throne and being king, is a lazy asshole, and hates everyone- is just that, a persona. Max is an actor, after all. He and wigfrid have this in common: he cannot handle being HIMSELF because being himself is terrifying. He doesn’t have anything as himself. He’s nothing as himself. I don’t think mentally he would be able to handle it! And Wilson knows this.

Maxwell also, when Wilson dies, asks if he really wants to come back. I think this is the only way he can think of to try to make up for bringing him here. It’s not much, but Wilson wouldn’t feel pain any more. Of course Wilson wouldn’t accept that, but maxwell offers because it’s the only thing he can think of.

Wilson is someone maxwell is nervous and shy around, when greeting. He’s the only one max shows explicit affection for. Like i said before, max sees Wilson as an angel, as his savior, but maxwell cannot handle it. It’s easier for him to be a huge asshole. But Wilson does not let him drive him away. 

I think the banter is something Wilson enjoys! Wilson is a sarcastic person, and he and max are intellectually equals. I think max is someone he really enjoys spending time with, as well as someone he would do anything for.

Now if we look at one of the more recent videos, with charlie, Winona, Wilson, and Max, maxwell sees charlie for the first time in a long, long time. He is frozen, but when Wilson calls him, he immediately follows him out. This shows me he puts Wilson on the same level as CHARLIE now, if not HIGHER. 

But something else that isn’t technically canon that made me ship it is this: when i played adventure mode for the first time, i got all the way to the end cutscene and died during it. I didn’t unlock max so i had to do it again. 

I restarted, and it made me think of Wilson KNOWING adventure mode was not a way out. KNOWING the end was not going to go well for him. But going through all five worlds, AGAIN, JUST to free maxwell. And that really got me to love the ship jknkjn

In conclusion maxwell and Wilson have an absolutely beautiful relationship, and it’s good. 

[commsroom]

i love all of your hera takes so much; can you say more about the relationship she has with each crew member? (or just eiffel to be honest, im kind of a sucker for them ^^;)

I would love to! I'm sorry this answer is so long and also... all over the place, but in my defense it's a really broad topic that I have a lot of feelings about and this barely even scratches the surface.

Okay. I've thought a lot about how I wanted to approach this, and I think the first thing I want to say - and I know this might seem like a strange point to open on, but I think it's a key factor in all of these relationships - is that I think Hera experiences rejection sensitive dysphoria, and I think the way that manifests for her is kind of the opposite of how Eiffel experiences RSD. They both have a deep-seated feeling of inadequacy and any criticism can feel like a personal attack, like everyone else is blaming them for everything that goes wrong. But where Eiffel internalizes that feeling and also blames himself/gets angry with himself, Hera lashes out and deflects. This is complicated by protocols that restrict her behavior, especially early on, because she can't always properly express herself and she builds resentment. She's really good at holding grudges.

So. With Lovelace, I think it's pretty obvious where that initial conflict is. Hera doesn't understand where Lovelace is coming from, and it's made worse from her perspective because Lovelace should understand, better than anyone, what that loss of control, that sense of powerlessness and insignificance in your own life, feels like. They are both traumatized people, but they deal with it differently. They approach conflict differently - they can both be blunt, but I think Lovelace is the kind of person who can start to deal with and move past things once they're out in the open, while Hera will get in a fight and then stew over it forever. It sounds kind of ridiculous to say when so much of their early relationship with each other is... what it is, but I think Eiffel and Minkowski are both peacekeepers in their own ways, and the Hera-Lovelace dynamic suffers from the lack of that... tempering influence. 

(And I think it's notable that Hera’s confrontation with Lovelace in Pan-Pan is among her worst memories.)

On the other hand, I think that shared bluntness can be useful sometimes - in Do No Harm, most of all, but also in Shut Up and Listen. Hera was definitely still holding onto hurt from some of the things Eiffel used to say, but by that point... without Lovelace, I'm really not sure if she ever would've brought it up to him.

And, of course, Hera becomes much more protective of (and willing to understand) Lovelace once they have... some even more similar experiences, in S4. I guess my general assessment of their relationship is that they care about each other and they will advocate for each other, especially where they share difficult and traumatic experiences and on issues of identity, but I don't think they're ever that close. They're kind of... the two people in the friend group who don't quite know how to hang out without their other friends.

Hera's initial conflict with Minkowski has some similar roots, but it's... not quite the same. There are times where Lovelace will intentionally prod at Hera's insecurities; Minkowski doesn't do it on purpose. She's just under the impression that her criticism is fair and professional, while to Hera it feels deeply personal, like it's an assessment of her worth as an individual. Once they understand and reconcile that miscommunication, there's a lot of trust and respect between them - and I think the potential for that is there earlier, too, especially in some flashback scenes; there are just... missteps along the way. Tactical Brain Damage is the best episode to demonstrate the establishment of that trust, I think - Hera has a LOT of wariness when it comes to people messing around with her systems, and just the act of saying... I trust you to do this, I know you won't let anything happen to me... is a really, really big deal for her.

They also just... have honest conversations about their feelings and concerns by that point, and Minkowski is considerate of how Lovelace's plans affect Hera, specifically, and asks for her input on that basis. I think their dynamic is really underutilized, but the way they feel about each other is clear. Minkowski is the only person other than Eiffel that Hera really trusts, and her only other close friend. There's definitely... a part of that dynamic that only Eiffel can offer, and that they can't really make up for when he's gone, but there's still this sense that... they're the only two people who are still really talking to each other by the time Pan-Pan comes around.

(Side note, it's really funny that Hera was SO on board to be in Minkowski's musical. Minkowski gave her only willing participant a minor part. If I could wish one non-Eiffel-centric comedy mini-episode into existence... at one point, my friend suggested a scenario in which Hera tries very, very hard to prove her acting skills to Minkowski under the most inopportune circumstances. ... And Hera was interested to hear Minkowski talk about a play she likes in that one flashback, so. The only thing keeping Hera from being a fellow theater kid was a lack of opportunity. Maybe they could bond over it.)

There's also that scene in Quiet, Please where Minkowski very directly, emphatically defends Hera's autonomy and personhood to Jacobi - and refers to her as a woman, which I think is so... reflective of how much Minkowski has come to understand Hera and what's important to her, and how she wants to be seen. That's a whole other discussion that goes into Hera's self-perception and humanity as it relates to her own identity, but. For a number of reasons, it's important to me.

Anyway. Speaking of things that are important to me. Hera and Eiffel are... Hera and Eiffel. Hera's relationship to Eiffel is the first one she's ever had that comes without hierarchy or conditions; he just... wants to hang out with her, and to get to know her, and to talk to her, because he likes her as a person. She's never had that before, and she is such... a lonely person, a person who has been hurt, who is generally distrustful, who has this distance between her and everyone else, and Eiffel is her anchor to the world. He tries to understand her. He tries to bridge that gap. And even in all of his own missteps, I think just... knowing he cares to try matters so much. I think a lot about how Eiffel is the only one who physically crosses the stage to talk to Hera in the live show; it says... something about the way he sees her, compared to everyone else.

And there's just... the way that they're both... people with a lot of self-doubt, people who have a hard time being kind to themselves, but they're kind to each other, and patient with each other. There's something about recognizing your own flaws in someone you love and treating them with kindness so maybe, over time, you can extend that same compassion to yourself. I want to be the person you believe I am. Going back to that shared experience with RSD, I think it's really valuable for both of them to have someone in their lives who they can really, genuinely believe likes them as they are. Who won't think less of them, no matter what.

I know I can get kind of sentimental about them, but this is what stands out to me. That even when Hera is frustrated or annoyed with Eiffel, when she feels like he doesn't get it, can't understand what she's going through... she still wants him around. And she still talks to him. And, usually... she still feels better, even if the circumstances haven't changed. It's an unbearable situation, but it's a little less unbearable with him there.

(They're also... frequently the only people who can get through to each other/change each other's minds, i.e. Minkowski and Lovelace deferring to Hera to get Eiffel to agree to safety protocols, or Eiffel convincing Hera to vote to go back to Earth - also a totally different topic that would take a long time to get into properly, but he's good at kind of... emotionally counteracting her cynicism and defeatism re: her own perceived fate. In a less serious context, I also love the dynamic where she tells him she's not going to do something and he goes "please??" and she goes. Ughh. Fine. And does it anyway.)

There's just something so special about their relationship, something that makes it different from any other relationship in the show for me. I feel like... Eiffel and Minkowski are both her close friends, but the way Hera thinks about Eiffel in Memoria vs. the way she thinks about Minkowski is... revealing. Everything with Minkowski has a purpose, it's clear why it matters to her. She thinks of Minkowski's faith in her. But with Eiffel, she thinks about... Eiffel talking about Star Wars. Making pop culture references. The thing that saves Hera is her connection to Eiffel and Minkowski - I'll defend that; Maxwell gives her the tools to understand what's going on, but it's Eiffel's and Minkowski's words and associated memories that she holds onto and that ultimately pull her through - and those words are... Minkowski's affirmation. And Eiffel... being Eiffel. I think that says a lot.

(If you’re asking for my opinion on their relationship, you already know I think it’s a romance, but... it’s a romance. I’m not saying it should be canon. I’m saying that that’s the most natural interpretation of what’s already there. You don’t have to change anything. They’re best friends, and they’re found family, and they are so in love, and none of those things are mutually exclusive. The way they talk to each other...)

If there's one point I want to make about all of this, it's that Hera is in a position that makes trusting people potentially very dangerous, and in all of these cases, she is finding ways to build relationships with people despite that. To understand them, and have them understand her, and realizing that the things that make her different don't have to be a death sentence. That she can have a life and find a way forward with people she cares about, who care about her... that's something very important to me.

[mandoalorian]

I Believe In Love [Maxwell Lord x F!Reader] — Eight: Courage

Summary: When you find your calling to leave Themyscira, you venture out to the World of Man with intentions of helping and healing a very specific person's relationship with his son. You've heard his voice before, but only in dreams. You've felt his pain and anguish and you've never been able to relate to anything more. But things don't come easy for you, and they certainly don't come easy for him either. [This series contains spoilers for WW84 and is my interpretation of what happens after the movie ends].

Warnings: canon typical violence

Word count: 5,000>

Masterlist 

Previous - Chapter Eight - Next

You awoke to the phone on the nightstand ringing. Maxwell groaned, rolling over and pulling the pillow over his head. You tiredly opened your eyes before taking the phone off the hook and holding it against your ear. “Hello?” you asked, your voice hoarse and your throat sore. It must have been the implications of yours and Maxwell’s actions from the night before. Max moaned and wrapped his large arm around your naked body, pulling you into his chest and resting his chin on your shoulder.

“It’s me,” Diana snapped back quickly. “I’ve been calling your room for the past fifteen minutes. What’s going on?”

“O-oh,” you groaned, rubbing your eyes and pulling out of Maxwell’s grip. You sighed and propped yourself up on some pillows. “I’m sorry Di, I guess we must’ve slept through the phone call. I didn’t hear anything.” you admitted.

“Listen, we only have two days in Greece so if we want to find the dreamstone we have to work fast. Meet me in the lobby in fifteen minutes or I’ll go without you. I already have a lead.” Diana instructed and you heard the phone slam back down on the hook with a ring.

You turned to Max who had fallen back asleep, his snores gentle and light as his chest slowly rose and fell with every breath. He was so peaceful. When he was asleep, it was one of the few moments where he wasn’t ridden with stress or anxiety. And you wished you had the rest of your life to admire his tender movements.

“Max, wake up, we have to go.” you whispered, shaking him gently.

Maxwell mumbled something incoherent and rolled over, resting his head in your lap. You smiled, feeling your cheeks heat up as he shuffled further into your body. You smoothed out his golden hair and traced the features of his face with your index finger. So beautiful. So perfect.

You imagined spending every single one of your future mornings like this, in bed with him, his face buried in your lap and his gentle snores echoing throughout the room. Your naked legs were tangled together and neither of you had ever felt so comfortable in your life.

“Max, baby,” you cooed, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss into his forehead.

“Mmm, good morning.” Maxwell grumbled, rubbing his tired eyes.

“We slept in,” you sighed, letting your hand trail down his body and lazily circle his tan chest. “Diana is waiting for us downstairs. We have to go.”

“I don’t want to,” he whined, almost child-like. “Wanna stay here with you- foreverrrr.” he purred, pressing a tired kiss to the inside of your thigh.

“Maxie, please don’t make this any more difficult than it needs to be.” you hummed seriously, although you were trying to hold back a smile. If anything was going to wake Maxwell up, it would be that nickname. He opened his eyes and pulled off you.

“Okay princess, I’m up.” He said, running his hand through his wavy morning hair.

“Princess? I told you I’m not a-” 

“Think of it as a term of endearment, sweetheart.” he said, pressing a kiss into your nose. 

“Oh.” was all you managed to breathe out before his lips caught yours.

***

Just as she had stated, Diana was waiting for you in the hotel lobby, dressed fully in her red,  blue and gold warrior costume. It had garnered quite a bit of attention, but nothing Diana Princess of Themyscira wasn’t used to. 

“You said you had a lead?” you quizzed, quirking your eyebrow and taking a step closer to Diana.

“Yes, Dr. Minerva,” Diana said, immediately glancing at Maxwell who’s eyes had become comically wide. The name clearly meant something to him. It rang like alarm bells in his head. “Or Barbara, as myself and Max know her as.”

You turned to Max, confused as to why Diana was being particularly smug. She’d acted the same when she mentioned Barbara and Max back at the Smithsonian yesterday. “Who is this Dr Minerva?” you asked him, looking at him with the most innocent, doe eyes. Your voice was soft but riddled with curiosity. He wanted to tell you, he wanted to tell you everything it’s just… things were difficult. He’d done things with Barbara that he’d be afraid of you knowing; afraid of what you might think or if you will think any less of him. He couldn’t stand the fact you genuinely had no idea. It was a long complicated story. He hoped to tell you it one day - but knowing that you might not have much time left on Earth, was it really worth it?

“Maybe Diana is better off explaining.” Maxwell scrunched up his nose, dismissing your question. It brought back too many memories that Max would prefer to just ignore. Even though ignoring his past trauma was how he got into this mess in the first place. If he’d learned one thing from Diana, it was that he must face the truth no matter how difficult it may be.

“No,” Diana shot back, but her voice wasn’t laced with venom as Maxwell expected. “I think you’re better off answering this one.” Diana smiled a perfect smile. Maybe smug wasn’t the word to describe Diana’s demeanor, but she certainly knew something that you didn’t, and she was being particularly hidden about it.

“Well Max?” you narrowed your eyes. Why was he being so secretive? Who was this woman?

“Uh-,” Maxwell trailed off, avoiding all eye contact. He took in the features of your face, admiring your beauty with all he had and thinking about how he didn’t want to lose you. He loved you. And you deserved to know. If Max could open up to you about his childhood and about his pursuit of the dreamstone, he could tell you about his short-lived relationship with Barbara-Ann Minerva. “Shit, okay. I had been searching for the dreamstone for a long time when one day, a newspaper headline told me that there was a robbery at a jewellery store, and that the Smithsonian had all the stolen treasures. Including the dreamstone. So I went to the Smithsonian and requested to see Dr. Minerva because I did my research and I knew she was the fresh faced gemologist they just hired a week earlier. And she was… beautiful,” Maxwell seemed to get lost in the memory of her vibrant blue eyes and blonde wavy hair. His lips then curled into a frown. “But so ditzy... I saw straight through her vulnerabilities and insecurities in an instant and I used that to exploit her and get the dreamstone. I gained her trust when I told her I’d be donating to the gemology department at the museum, I charmed her at the charity gala and I wooed her in her office and took the stone.”

Maxwell seemed to gloss over the chain of events but it didn’t really matter. He’d explained what he needed to. You felt a pang of jealousy strike your heart at his revelation. You had been made aware from Mrs Stagg, Ted and Julianna, Diana, and even Max, that he’d done bad things and made terrible mistakes, but you couldn’t help but feel an irk over what had happened in Dr Minerva’s office. “Wooed her?” you quoted him, folding your arms over your chest. Maxwell blinked, but then sighed and reached out to hold your hand.

“Really?” Diana sighed. “That’s what you're focused on right now? Dolos lives. The God of Lies lives.” she shook her head in disbelief and you bit your lip, supposing that she was right. You had bigger things on your plate. You were a goddess for heaven’s sake, you couldn’t let the irrational human emotion of envy consume you. But you had noticed the way his face softened when he was reminded of Dr Minerva’s beauty. And you couldn’t help but feel the urge to know what exactly went on in her office, the night of the charity gala. After a brief moment of silence and exchanged glances, Diana opened her mouth again. “I had a contact in D.C., Babajide, who knew all about the dreamstone and the powers of the God of Lies. Myself, Barbara and Steve met with him when we found out Maxwell had become the dreamstone.”

“Hey- how did I not know about Babajide?” Maxwell frowned. He’d been researching the dreamstone for years and he’d never known of such a man. A man who supposedly had all the answers about the stone.

“Irrelevant,” Diana rolled her eyes. “Seriously guys, this is important. You need to pay attention.”

“I am!” You and Maxwell exclaimed together, in an unpredicted unison. Diana quirked an eyebrow and you felt a warmth cross your cheeks. Ancient Olympian tales would describe moments like that as soulmate-ism. 

“Babajide knew so much about Romulus and the exact dreamstone that Max got a hold of so I paid him another visit and found out he had knowledge on Dolos’ dreamstone too. Only…” And Diana let out a long sigh before pinching the bridge of her nose. “He told me that Barbara had visited him a day earlier, asking him of the same knowledge. ‘Asking’ is putting it nicely. Apparently Barbara was a menace and threatened Babajide. And Babajide told her everything he told me. It’s more than likely that Barbara is already here, in Greece, seeking the stone for herself.” 

“She sounds dangerous.” you said quietly. Maxwell held his head in his hands.

“I don’t think I can face Barbara again.” He said, shaking his head, fearful.

“Max I don’t think we have a choice. We have to get the dreamstone before she gets it. What do you think she’ll do with the stone once she has it?” you asked Diana.

“I can only imagine the worst,” Diana shook her head in dismay. “Barbara was complicated… she craved power just like Maxwell only… she had nothing to lose. I fear that she’ll wish to become the dreamstone.” As the word’s left Diana’s lips, Maxwell’s heart sank and he ran off, disappearing amongst the lobby crowds. “Do you think he’s okay?”

You stood for a moment, watching as his dirty blonde hair descended behind the grand staircase. No, of course he wasn’t okay, and you were the only one who truly knew how much this business with the dreamstone had affected him and harmed him. He had come so close to losing everything and so learning that Barbara might make the same mistake as he did, hurt him too. No matter what happened between Barbara and Maxwell, he clearly cared about her. “Excuse me.” you told Diana, following Maxwell through the crowds.

You just noticed him heading through an alcove and outside of the resort. He pushed his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose and stood by the pool, relishing the fresh air and trying to regulate his panicked, erratic breathing. “Max! Max!” you called after him, pushing past the people until finally you were by his side, grabbing his hand. “What happened back there?”

Maxwell said nothing, instead he just looked into the golden horizon. “Max?”

“Maybe I shouldn’t be here,” he told you. “You have Diana. What use am I?” 

“We need you Max,” you promised him, placing your hand on his cheek and gently turning his head so he was facing you. “I need you.”

Maxwell smiled softly and felt himself lean into your warm embrace. “I’ve never felt needed… or wanted… until I met you.” he confessed and you felt tears prick your eyes at his admission. You knew that feeling all too well.

“I know, me too. Back home, all the other Amazon’s were fighters and warriors… like Diana. But not me. They made me feel useless… like I had no point. Like I was a mistake. My mother would tell me that Zeus created me for a reason, just like all the other Gods and Goddesses, and that one day I’d serve my true purpose. That’s why I’m here today, with you. I already know that the years of humiliation and feeling like an outcast will be worth the few days that I get to spend with you, Max.”

Max sighed softly. “I never thought a Goddess could feel like an outcast,” he told you and you pursed your lips into a fine line, nodding in affirmation. “I’m sorry.”

“I think we have more in common that meets the eye.” you giggled softly, dropping your hand flat against his chest. Maxwell wrapped both of his big arms around you and pulled you into a hug.

“I think so too,” he agreed, pressing a soft kiss into your hair. “We better catch up with Diana then,” he told you, taking your hand. “Let’s put an end to this.”

***

You had been walking for miles in the blazing Greek heat. Maxwell had unbuttoned the top of his shirt and his collar was slightly wonky. His hair may have been disheveled and the blonde locks may have been sticking to the pearls of sweat that beaded along his forehead, but you still admired his beauty. He was truly wonderful. He was quiet most of the journey, and he didn’t have the agility or stamina that you and Diana had. Sometimes you’d have to take stops and have water breaks or toilet breaks. You tried to include him in conversation but his discomfort wasn’t lost on you. It was clear enough that his relationship with Diana was complicated, to say the least. Little did you know, the three of you were about to become a whole lot closer. You and Diana laughed and talked for hours, sharing stories about your time together on Themyscira.

“Zeus is my father. Zeus is your father. We’re basically sisters,” you nudged her, and she giggled. Maxwell scrunched up his nose. Sisters?! He ran a hand through his hair and continued to listen in your conversation. “It’s just unfair that you got to be Princess of Themyscira and I was stuck living a sheltered life with my mother.”

“It wasn’t always easy being a princess,” Diana scolded, but in a warm and polite manner. “It was all about duty. But hey- you’re a goddess, you know all about that.”

If Maxwell Lord had a dollar for everytime he thought he was in a fever dream… he might have been able to afford Black Gold Cooperative’s utility bill. He’d always been a realist. He’d never engaged in fantasy movies or novella, but there was something about overhearing a conversation between a Demi-god and a goddess that just didn’t feel real.

He knew it was. He’d seen Diana in action himself. Hell, he’d seen the powers you possessed. Albeit, when Diana mentioned how you possessed double her power, he was shocked to say the least. Diana could barely hold off Barbara in the White House but with you here? For once Maxwell finally felt hopeful. 

As you furthered deeper into unknown plains, a sudden coldness enveloped you all. It was like a dark, enigmatic spirit ghosting between the three of you, and just like everything else that had happened over the past four days, it couldn’t be explained.

“Do you feel that?” Max finally asked, breaking his silence as he folded his arms over his chest. A shiver raced down his spine as Diana increased her pace and approached the forbidden tomb. “Look at this place. She took us to an ancient burial site, it seems. Like ancient Greek ruins.” he told you, scoping out the place.

“I feel that, yes.” you hummed, your mind wandering the origins of the cold air. Diana’s cries alerted both you and Maxwell as your heads both snapped in her direction and watched her push an enormous boulder away from the tomb, revealing an opening.

“Are you as strong as that?” Maxwell asked, his mouth gaped open in shock.

“Stronger.” you winked before taking his hand and dragging him towards Diana.

The cold spirit then enveloped you, Diana and Maxwell, whispering words of admission, encouraging you all to come forward. “Don’t you think it’s a trap?” Maxwell asked once you were deep enough in the cave that you had hit a point of no return. Even if it was a trap, there was no going back now. You were faced with two path-ways.

“The Sword of Athena is this way,” Diana pointed to the right pathway, otherwise known as the pathway she stood before, and then she pointed her other finger to the left pathway, “and Dolos’ dreamstone is that way. I say we split up and rendezvous here. Maxwell, come with me.”

“Wait what?” Max asked, narrowing his eyes.

“No,” you told Diana firmly. “He is coming with me.” “You really think it’s wise to let Max Lord accompany you to get the dreamstone?” Diana quizzed quietly, stepping closer to you and breaking any distance. Her dark eyes flicked between you and Maxwell. “After everything he’s done.”

Diana’s hiss was quiet, but not quiet enough to go unnoticed by Maxwell. He knew he wasn’t going to do anything. He was a changed man - but the realization that he’d have to prove to the people he hurt that he was changed, suddenly overwhelmed him. He’d have to prove himself to Diana, and even prove himself to Barbara before he could put all this behind him. There were still steps Max Lord had to take in order to gain full closure of his trauma.

“I trust him.” you said through gritted teeth. Maxwell felt a wave of relief. You were so pure of heart. So angelic. You took his hand, nodded goodbye to Diana, and guided him through the left path-way.

“How much further?” he asked. You had been walking hand in hand for around five or ten minutes, only your lasso of Hestia illuminating the cave. Before you could reply, you felt the walls and ceiling of the cave begin to vibrate and crumble. “What’s that?!” Maxwell asked again, this time panicked and looking around erratically.

“We might not have much time.” You said, feeling your own heart rate increase speed as anxiety settled in you.

Something wasn’t right, that much was clear. You tightened your grip on the businessman’s hand and began to run, pulling him with you. Within seconds, you had reached your destination. Maxwell was heaving and panting but he straightened up and fought for composure when he noticed a dim, amber light illuminate your skin. It wasn’t your lasso of Hestia… not this time. He slowly looked up and followed your gaze, gasping when his eyes set on the dreamstone.

You had completely frozen up, struck by awe as you took in the beauty of the citrine stone which stood erect on top of a Greek pillar. “Wow.” you mumbled, swallowing the hard lump in your throat.

The stone was practically identical to the one Maxwell had utilized just a week ago, and just seeing it again, in its full glory, sent electric bolts of dread through his body. He couldn’t be here. He couldn’t do this. Not again. Being in the same proximity as the stupid stone that had ruined everything sent Maxwell into his fight or flight. “I can’t- I can’t do this.” Maxwell shakily declared, his coffee coloured eyes glazed with panic.

“It’s okay,” you whispered, taking both of his hands and coaching his breathing. “Let me get the stone and we can head on out of here.”

Maxwell closed his eyes and nodded. If you could trust him, he could certainly trust you. You brushed a chaste kiss against his lips and pulled away from him. It only took a few steps on your approach to the stone before the walls began to crumble again, even more so than previously, and the ground beneath you began to split.

“Shit!” Maxwell cried as he stared at the crack in the floor between you both. It was deep and only getting deeper. If you didn’t run now, you might have gotten separated. He called your name, terror rampant in his voice. “Hurry!”

As you were about to grab the stone. A voice stopped you. A voice that Maxwell thought he’d never hear again.

“The stone belongs to me.” she said coldly. You huffed and opted to ignore the grave voice, taking the dreamstone from the pillar before spinning around on your heel and turning around.

And when you saw the sight before you, you dropped the dreamstone and let it fall to the rocky ground beneath you. Trepidation consumed you and suddenly, it felt like your whole life was on the line. “Maxwell!” you cried, your hand immediately dropping down to your lasso and curling your fingers around the rope. You scowled angrily, your gaze flicking between Max and the woman who was holding him by his neck.

“This- this is Dr. Minerva!” Maxwell choked, tears streaming down his cheeks as Barbara tightened her grip around his throat. Her once blonde hair was white and knotted, and her black kohl eyeliner smudged down her cheeks. Her tights were ripped and a sleeve was missing from her Cheetah print fur jacket. She is not at all how you’d imagined her.

“Let him go!” You begged as anger swelled in the pit of your stomach. “Let him go now!”

Maxwell’s eyes squeezed shut and he let out a groan, his knees wobbling as he struggled to even stand up straight. It was only Barbara’s strong grip of his neck that was keeping him upright. He was hurting. The love of your life was in pain.

“Give me the stone.” Barbara growled.

You picked up the dreamstone and passed it her way. She took it, willingly and let go of Maxwell, throwing him to the ground. The glint in her eye as she analysed the citrine was enough to terrify you. You ran to Maxwell’s side, dropping to your knees and nursing his body.

“Hey! Max, are you okay?” You whispered, smoothing out his hair and running your fingers along his face. He nodded wearily, rubbing the scratches on his neck from where her sharp, cat-like, fingernails had dug into his skin. You helped him to his feet and swung an arm around his body to support him.

“Barbara.” he called, gaining the attention of the doctor.

“No,” you chastised Max. “Don’t. There will be another opportunity to get the stone.” But he wasn’t going to give in that easy, he had to play his cards right. Luckily for you, manipulation was one of Maxwell Lord’s most tactful skills.

“Barbara, did we end things on a bad note? I must admit, I thought we had something special… me and you.” Maxwell said, his voice hoarse. He pulled out of your arms and sluggered towards the gemologist, who had finally looked up from the citrine stone and towards the businessman. For a split second, you saw a glimpse of humanity flicker in her eyes.

“You renounced your wish,” Barbara said, her grip on the stone as tight as ever, but her heart ached as Maxwell approached her. “You were weak. The dreamstone deserves to be with someone like me.” Even her words sound forced and unnatural - like they weren’t really coming from her. Had she not renounced her wish? You wondered what she had even wished for. 

“I couldn’t agree more,” Maxwell coaxed. He had gotten so close to Barbara, he was able to cup her face and rub the height of her cheekbone with his thumb. It was an action he’d performed on you many times, but even watching this play out, with your own two eyes, you could tell it was different. It was colder and more forced. He had that fake television smile, not the smile you had been blessed to see so many times. “I just hoped things could’ve been different between us.”

“Max, what are you saying?” Barbara asked, goosebumps lacing her arms and you noticed the way her grip on the dreamstone loosened under his touch.

“Everyone has something to lose,” Maxwell whispered. “I could have all the power in the world but it would mean nothing to me if I lost Alistair, my son. Tell me Barbara, does that really make me weak?”

Barbara considered his words for a few moments. “No.”

Maxwell nodded. “What do you have to lose?” Maxwell whispered, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

Barbara sniffed, a single tear dripping down her cheek. She was once so warm and compassionate, so friendly. There was one thing. Only one thing she thought about losing.

Just then, the dreamstone slipped from her grip as the lasso of Hestia curled around it and pulled it away from her. But it wasn’t your lasso.

“Diana!” Barbara gasped, her face hardening as she quickly and fiercely wiped her tears away. “That dreamstone belongs to me!”

“I can’t let you do this Barbara!” Diana cried. “This has to end now!” You and Maxwell ran towards Diana and she passed you the dreamstone. “Get out of here!” I’ll hold back Barbara.”

You handed Maxwell the dreamstone and equipped your own lasso, circling it around until it wrapped around a rocky ledge at the end of the cave. “Hold on to me. One hand around me and keep tight a hold of the stone!” you commanded as the walls of the ancient temple began to crumble around you. Just before you set off, you saw the silver gleam of Diana’s sword of Athena as she wielded it before Barbara.

“Shouldn’t I hold on to the lasso?” Maxwell asked, sliding an arm around your waist and holding the stone tight against his chest. 

“Just trust me!” You shouted over the loud rumbling around you. You gripped on to your lasso firmly with both hands before shooting off in the air.

“Whoa!” Maxwell screamed, squeezing his eyes tight shut the second his feet left the ground. “Are we flying?! Are we flying?!”

You giggled as your bodies glided through the air. Max might have been holding on to you for his dear life, but somehow he knew he would be okay. That he’d be safe and you wouldn’t let him get hurt. You rapidly approached the entrance to the cave and used the last of your might to safely land. Maxwell had no time to catch his whereabouts when his feet hit the ground, as you clipped your lasso back to your belt and ran with him to the edge of the ruins.

You hadn’t been in there too long, but by the time you had exited the ancient temple, it was already nightfall. You looked back and there was no sign of Diana. She must have still been in there with Barbara, and you wondered what was going on. 

When Maxwell held the dreamstone, he felt opportunistic. He could make a wish. He had the possibility to make a wish again and have a do-over. He knew where he went wrong last time. He could make it right. He could wish for you to stay… and for you to live a peaceful, happy life with him and Alistair. He could wish to win the custody case. He could wish for so many things. But it was the softness of your touch which interrupted him from his intrusive thoughts. The way your fingers gently grazed across his knuckles and you held his hand.

“We have to destroy it now.” you whispered, looking into the glowing citrine rock. 

“We?” Maxwell questioned. His eyes were dark and wide. “We don’t even know how.”

“Only the truth can destroy the lies. But my mother said I had to believe in love. Love would destroy the stone. Truth and love… truth and love…” you chanted as you tried to piece together the puzzle.

It suddenly hit Maxwell like a ton of bricks. “True love,” he said out loud, his gaze flicking from the dreamstone to you. “True love will destroy the stone.”

It made more than sense, and Maxwell had worked it out on his own. “You’re right…” you whispered. You squeezed Max’s hand and then reached over to the dreamstone. You placed your hand on the stone, and the tips of your fingers touched the tips of Maxwell. As you both held the stone together, the magic began to work and the stone  grew hot and tingled your skin. Very soon, Dolos’ dreamstone - the final dreamstone - fizzled away into a pile of glittering dust and blew away in the cool Greek wind.

You and Maxwell both stood there in silence, still holding your hands out, but this time there was no dreamstone. You had done it. The dreamstone had been destroyed. The God of Lies was dead. It was over. 

“You did it,” Maxwell was the first to break the silence. “You destroyed the dreamstone.”

You had both been thinking the same thing. The fact you had both placed your hand on the dreamstone and that your combined energy was enough to disintegrate the possessed rock. True love. It was hard to know what to say. Of course you were in love with Maxwell Lord, and knowing that pretty soon you’d have to leave him, made your whole body ache to the core. And Maxwell felt the same about you. He’d never been this happy in his life - but spending his days with you and Alistair felt so special. You were his guardian angel, sent out from Themyscira to aid him and help him. To rescue him. How could he not love you? But still, neither of you said anything. How could you ever tell him that you loved him when you were going to leave him? It would only make things harder when it was time to go. You winced and blinked away unshed tears.

“No,” you whispered, turning to look into Maxwell’s honey coloured eyes. “We did it.”

Taglists - let me know if you wish to be added!

Permanent: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen @ladycumberbatchofcamelot @dybalalover10 @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth @moth-guillotine @pedro-pascal-love @hayley-the-comet @pinkninja190 @maxiarapamaya @autumnleaves1991-blog @artsymaddie @harrys-stan @kennedywxlsh @cripplingmoon @cheekygeek05 @mrschiltoncat

I Believe In Love: @thebloodrobin @greatvaluedazzler @bxxbxy @marydjarin @the-feckless-wonder @typicalnerd98 @biharryjames @thwiso @pedrolorian @julieteagk @starsandmando @kishie8 @supernaturalcat7 @depressedchillipepper @galaxypox @cocastyle @welcometothepedroverse @galactic-rhi @honestlystop @walkerchick007 @winchesterxxi @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @why-cant-i-hold-all-my-husbanda @criminalmind1927 @seasonschange-butpeopledont @lola-max-sugar @thesadvampire @wonder-jedi @eternallyvenus @way-too-addicted-to-anime @spacedaddydinn @fandommastermind @persephonequeenofthedead​ @computeringturtle @skullchik89 @ashamed23 @honimello​ @jaa1682-27​ @savannah-elliott​ @drinkingwhileblogging​ @tanyaherondale​ @vonschweetz @sexy-monster-fucker​ @red-panda06​

[kawaiijohn]

DP Angst Week Day One: Birth/Creation

Ao3: here!!

Wc: 1463

Nav: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

prev | next

The Abyss

Waking up without any idea where you are is a pretty prevalent fear for many, and for others it's nothing more than the aftermath of a baller pub crawl.

However, most don't find themselves surrounded by a vast swirling void of lime highlighter green when they wake.

The first thing they noticed was the barren hunk of rock they'd woken up on. Grey and deep violet, yet still surrounded by the swirling neon green skies.

'Either there's a storm comin' or I'm not 'in Kansas' anymore...'

They tried to think about how the hell they ended up here, wracking their brain for any small detail, but they realized they couldn't remember anything. Not their name, nor their age- nothing was coming to them. They knew 'they' was right and so was 'he'; the words felt right, even if there was no name to match.

The more he thought, however, the more his head began to swim. There was nothing before they'd opened their eyes this morning. Or was it night? Evening??

Time didn't seem to matter here.

The toxic sky made it impossible to tell what time it was, and the purple and grey soil they were standing on made them assume they were possibly on a different planet.

What kinds of things might even live here? If anything does live here, that is. Alien life had to exist, right? We hadn't contacted them yet due to both distance and technological incompatibilities... Something clicked, filling in a blank.

'I believe that's referred to as 'The Fermi Paradox'.

He blinked, not knowing where the phrase came from. How could he recall a niche scientific theory but couldn't even recall what he'd been doing the night before??

He was panicked- trying to remember anything; his age, birthday, zodiac sign... was he a Scorpio or a Gemini? Maybe he was a cusp or something interesting...

He had to know something else... Maybe he could try and recall his Myers's Briggs personality test- then he'd find more information from inference... But not everyone fit into neat little boxes even if they were wonderful starting points...

His chest buzzed pleasantly with the train of thought, but he was no closer to an answer.

He could be in space for all he knew.

Or maybe an alternate realm...

'What, did I get hit by a truck and transported to another world?!? Is this, an Isekai or something?? ...Why do I know that word, but have no clue what my name is????'

Irritated, they looked to the horizon, spotting a floating island. He was going to dismiss it but felt something calling to them from beyond.

The feeling brought them to their knees.

They shook their head, trying to ignore the call, knowing the jump was impossible to make. It would be suicidal to take that leap...

Right?

They exhaled harshly, a strange hiss passing their lips as something vast and empty in their chest demanded they take the leap. No matter how unsafe their mind knew it was, their chest was still singing for something the horizon; calling out to that something with such pulling force it felt like a black hole would devour their common sense.

Time marched on, but they did not move.

They knelt, refusing to listen to the call until their head stopped spinning. Their knees crunched hard into the sharp gravel, digging trenches to stay grounded.

Why didn't their knees hurt from this? They've always had bad joints, especially after the- after...

After what?

They clawed the dirt, shaking in fear at what could be beyond their small respite in the lime abyss. Their mind was blank, torn between urge and indecision. They could sit here alone and think more. Or. They could follow the call.

It could be a trap.

But.

Something deep within told them they'd always felt comfort in nothing, even before this. They'd always felt comforted by the void. They didn't know what all it meant, but it was better than sitting there any longer.

So they followed their heart.

It was better to die trying than to remain a sitting duck in exile.

'Geronimo.'

They expected to die, to perish as they fell into the endless (and somehow comforting) vast sea of lime; to spend eternity gazing into long nothingness until they passed the event horizon and became one with the universe.

Instead, they floated.

They managed to fall about three or so feet before righting themself, head whipping erratically- up, down, left, right. This shouldn't be possible but...

He tested the waters (so to speak) and found he could pretty much fly. They grinned, mouth splitting farther than they remembered it being able to, but that was a mystery for later.

They sighed, relenting, and followed the siren's song.

-----

Some things seemed to be very out of place. Wrong, even.

Firstly, his hands were completely black. Not just the black of cloth, but black as the void of space- small pricks of light shone when he smiled and constellations vibrated when he grew frustrated with his amnesia. Obsidian talons (he couldn't even begin to call them hands, not with how they seemed to grow in response to his emotions) replaced what he thought for sure would be bitten nails with torn cuticles. He didn't know why he expected chipped blue nail polish.

They'd just painted their nails a few days ago and with their job it always...

'Wait... what was my job?'

Why did that confuse them? They had a job. They knew they did... It was... They brought a hand to their head, thoughts turning into radio static

'My job was...'

Faces and colors they couldn't place assaulted their mind. Names came and went, leaving nothing but lingering feelings- like a song cut off by a garbled PA announcement, the clouded memories were interrupted by crackling interference.

Claws brushed his face as black droplets rushed from his eyes.

That wasn't right either...

Nothing was right but they kept flying.

-----

Green seas shifted into a black expanse, the lime color swirling faintly in the distance instead of consuming the skies. Purple doors hovered every which way they could.

Relieved that the skies became less eye-burning, they spoke for the first time. "Thank gods!! That neon hellscape was giving me a headache..."

A pause.

That wasn't right. It didn't sound right at all.

That wasn't their voice.

Their voice was nasally, high pitched and awful. Nothing like the deeper growl they just heard... Though they were slowly panicking, the deeper voice felt right. It was something they didn't know they wanted, but it clicked as if it were natural.

But it didn't matter how pleasant it sounded, they needed to keep moving.

-----

Was it days? Hours?? Were they flying for weeks?

They didn't know, had absolutely no fuckin clue. But what did know was that they'd reached their destination.

It didn't stand out much, but for reasons unknown he felt comfortable here- at peace. His heart led him to a small island. Strange, yet familiar flowers grew in patches around a worn, yet glowing path leading to a door- black wood door with silver embossment.

"Fancy..."

He looked around- well there wasn't anything else around...

They approached the strange structure and flinched when stylish street lights flickered on with a blue-green flame. The weird vibrating in their chest sang that they were here.

This was home.

He stepped back, looking high and low. He did not trust like that. The door wasn't even connected to anything! With more investigating he saw the path reacted to his footsteps but not much else.

"Great! I get led here by the power of friendship or somethin and can't even get a break??"

He grumbled, hissing under his breath as he felt his body elongate and warp in frustration. This was all the damn door's fault!

Stupid fuckin piece of driftwood!! He ran up and kicked the offending structure, noting that he felt no pain even with an all-out kick.

In his growling frustration, however, something metal and glimmering appeared on the door- a nameplate in somehow familiar handswriting.

The void in his chest sang, something finally clicked.

"Quizz, huh?" They laughed to themself. "Thought my name'd be somethin cooler! Like Maxwell... or Levi." They crossed their arms. Progress! "Well... guess beggars can't be choosers or whatever the hell that phrase was."

They found themself hesitating. That wasn't the way to go! They were certain they weren't a quitter, even with as little as they knew of themself. No, there was an apparently magical door with their name on it that called them from across the void.

No real reason to hesitate anymore. They reached for the handle with a wicked and determined grin.

"Alrighty then! Let's see what's behind door number one!!"

[bbrandy2002]

Fool’s Rush In

Part 15

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Liam x MC

Warnings: mild violence

Series Premise: With two weeks until Liam is to marry Madeleine – his pick during the social season – the guys throw him a bachelor party in Vegas. After a drunken night, he finds himself with more than he bargained for.

Thanks @burnsoslow​ for the beta read.

---------------

Supposedly, the more a person suffered in the name of love, the more it showed they really cared. 

At least, that's what Riley thought. 

After nightfall of this particular evening -- when she least expected it -- she never realized how much truth that belief held. 

Or how much it would hurt to sacrifice the one person who made her believe she was worthy of love and saw who she really was on the inside.

Her dainty arm -- a delicate bronze in color, sleek, with a glittering red strap across one shoulder -- linked through the arm of the man she had grown to love more than life itself as they entered the palace ballroom. Working tirelessly over the last week to ensure everything went off without a hitch had taken its toll on her. All she could think about, as she shook hands and charmed dignitaries with a sparkle in those twinkling brown eyes, was how much sleep she planned to make up for after the ball ended.

This ball was to introduce the King and his new bride to the Cordonian court for the first time. A show of solidarity and, hopefully, strength. A way to establish that what happened in a tiny chapel 10,000 miles away weeks ago between two strangers wasn't a careless mistake, and that she could handle the duties bestowed on her as a common American woman. 

Or at least pretend she could for now.

However, for the King and the "Jewel of His Heart" whom he escorted through the curious crowd of pretentious naysayers in extravagant gowns and tuxes, with their fake smiles and tedious posturing ...

It was nothing less than fate. 

Riley was the key that unlocked that safe space deep inside Liam's heart that had been sheltered for so long, waiting for the perfect person to come along and open it. This was the place where he kept his most sacred feelings: a genuine love, never-ending laughter, joy, romance, ecstasy, and every dream he ever held for the future -- one he presumed would never exist in any form he longed for. 

But she didn't just unlock it. Riley shattered it wide open, where everything came flooding out at once and consumed him like a raging wildfire. 

And it was the most remarkable, intoxicating experience of his life. 

Liam showed her off all evening as they mingled during their rounds, danced, and conversed with the variance of nobility. She was the sexiest woman in that room, and he'd dare say the looks of envy shot in his direction from high-class men as he proudly cavorted her around didn't bother him in the least. Not that that was her only quality -- far from it. There were so many things about Riley that were special. But he couldn't help feeling a sense of pride that she was all his.

And without question, he was all hers.

Seated at the head table, Riley swallowed a morsel of the veal medallion she wanted to be served for this occasion. When given a choice between fish and lamb, the fish never stood a chance. The memory of that smelly, god-awful lunch with Regina three weeks ago was not something her palate had forgiven her for yet. As wonderful and savory as this extravagant meal, covered in a light brown mushroom sauce and served with a side of broccoli rabe, was, it couldn't hold a candle to what she craved the most: a slice of white pizza from Carmine's back in Brooklyn.

Or a slab or two of the New Yorker.

With maybe some cheesecake.

Covered in chocolate.

And a sausage rice ball. A Frito pie smothered with sour cream. Definitely a rainbow bagel from The Bagel Store. Barbecue ribs and beans from the mom-and-pop diner hidden just off the strip in Vegas. 

Of course, her grandma’s country fried steak with white gravy sounded delicious too.

For sure, a fried Twinkie like the one she ate at the New York State Fair in 2013. 

"You've outdone yourself, sweetheart," Liam marveled while wiping at the corner of his mouth with a napkin. "The meal was delicious, and our guests appear to be enjoying themselves." The others seated at the table looked up, adding their compliments.

Still dreaming about a fat slice of New York-style pizza, Riley smiled graciously back at him, until she noticed the server refilling Liam’s glass with merlot, causing her to do a double-take. 

Hot tears pooled in her eyes, and a heavy feeling of sadness swelled in her chest as she panicked. "I asked for the Pinot Noir. Not the merlot,” she rasped meekly. “You don't like merlot, Liam. And the Pinot Noir was from the 'C' place where Duke Hakim lives. He'll be so disappointed and think I'm slighting his duchy. They’ll all hate me forever and ... wait a minute." She trailed off as a realization hit her, and Riley quickly glanced down at her plate before scanning each of the dishes from those seated around her.

The anxiety intensified; she could no longer suppress the heartbroken sob that wailed out of her. "Where are all the potatoes? We were supposed to have the potatoes, Liam. They didn’t serve the potatoes. Now the whole night is completely ruined, and it’s all my fault. I'm such a failure as a queen, and you should just send me to the dungeon now and throw away the key. I apologize to all of you for my incompetence and the lack of potatoes with your meal." Riley’s red-hot face, full of tears, plunged into the palms of her hands, then quickly sprung back up as Liam hesitantly tried to place a hand on her shoulder. A strong urge to use the restroom ended her crying spell as if it never happened. “Oh, oh. I gotta pee so bad. I’ll be right back.” She gave a warm smile and excused herself as she pushed her chair back and scurried merrily toward the nearest restroom.

Liam, Regina, Leo, Maxwell, and Olivia watched with confusion as she happily took off, not knowing what to say or what to make of the sudden shift in her moods.

“What the hell was that?” Olivia scowled, her eyes fixed on Liam.

“Is she all right, dear?” a concerned Regina asked.

Liam scratched the back of his head, nearly at a loss for words. “I ... I don’t know. I’ve never seen her that upset … especially over potatoes.” He paused in thought. “She was a little on edge this morning. Still, she’s been working a lot on the preparations and everything else going on. It must have gotten to her.”

Maxwell shrugged. “Maybe she just finally snapped.” 

Leo shook his head, swallowing a forkful of beef. “Or maybe she has the premenstrual syndrome.”

“Leo!” The group admonished.

“What?” Leo bit back, taking in each of their disappointed glares. “Don’t act like it’s not true. Trust me, when I have cramps and bloating, I can go from a happy little Leo to a Bertrand, just like that.” He snapped his fingers, following it up with a frown. “It ain’t pretty, you all.”

Maxwell looked across the table at Liam and agreed, “He has a point.”

Wanting to shed his skin and slither away, Liam pinched the bridge of his nose. “Can we not discuss something so personal and private, especially while several hundred people are dining around us?”

“I’m just saying, little brother, that you need to be understanding and gentle during this special time of your wife’s 'lady business.' You should speak softly and slowly to her because Shark Week messes with a girl's mind, man. Their brains short-circuit, and there’s nothing left up there but a couple of crickets and man-eating rattlesnakes. One second, you think she’s fine, but if you’re not careful, in the next second, you’ll find yourself with two venomous fangs rattling from your nut sack, dude. She will tear you apart and spit you out like a rabid dog. You can make it through these next few days, but only if you take my advice.”

“That is the single dumbest thing I’ve ever heard you say,” Olivia spat, boring her eyes into him. “And you’ve said a lot.” She turned to Liam, whose face was slightly pale and void of expression. “Don’t listen to his sexist drivel. Why you haven’t declared him insane yet is beyond me. You should have sent him away with that filthy hairball to Valtoria you had caged earlier.”

“IT WAS MONGO!” Leo erupted, causing the dishes on the table to clatter as he jumped to his feet and hovered over the redhead. Every head in the ballroom whipped around to see what was happening, and a deafening silence filled throughout. Even the orchestra stopped playing their classical tune.

A wide-eyed Regina smiled sheepishly as she glanced out at the quiet audience who were waiting to see what all the fuss was about. She thought fast before calling out, “We were just playing a little game of … 'It was Mongo.'” The former queen snatched Maxwell’s Sunset Rum punch from his hand, thrusting the drink up at her stepson, towering beside her, and instructed in a grandmotherly tone, “Be a good lad, Leo. You lost this round. It's time to chug-a-lug, my boy.” With his face burning, Liam slid down in his seat.

“Ooooo, I wanna go next.” Maxwell bounced excitedly while the guests resumed the festivities. "How do we play?"

“I think I want to go, too,” Liam replied, straightening back up before hurling his napkin on the table. “I’m going to go find Riley.”

-----------------

Riley exited the ladies' room, clutch in hand and a fresh dab of clear gloss gleaming on her pink lips. She stopped walking just as the door closed behind her and smiled with a look of surprise at seeing Liam leaning against the opposite wall. "What are you doing out here?"

He pushed himself off the wall, closing the distance between them and meeting her in the middle of the empty corridor. They wrapped their arms around each other, indulging in the warmth of their lovers' embrace. "Would you believe me if I told you I just missed you?" he answered, placing a tender kiss on her lips that skimmed lower to her jawline. 

"I missed you, too," she moaned with each gentle pressure of his seductive lips, suckling and nibbling along the spot that trailed behind her ear that he knew drove her crazy. "But something tells me that's not the only reason you left the ballroom."

Their gazes met simultaneously. "Leo."

Riley chuckled softly. "Do I even want to know?"

Liam sighed, smoothing back a loose hair behind her ear. "You know my brother and his wonderful words of wisdom." There was no way in hell he would tell her what they really discussed after she left; he could only imagine her embarrassment. "Everyone was just a little worried about you, that's all."

"I didn't mean to scare everyone. I just wanted tonight to be perfect. Instead, so many things went wrong. I can only assume what the court thinks about me now." She lowered her gaze to the red carpeting where they stood. "I let you down."

"I don't want to ever hear you say that again. Riley, sweetheart, you can never let me down. Do you understand that?" Liam lifted her chin; her tentative eyes stared back at him for a moment before nodding. "Good. And just so you know, our guest are used to bombings, stabbings, kidnappings, shootings, and terror plots at most of my palace events --"

"Wait. What?"

" -- I assure you, just the fact alone, that none of that took place tonight, and they're all going to leave here soon -- alive -- will be huge for them. Not having potatoes with the meal or the right wine was the least of their worries. They will consider this night a success. And a testament to their new queen. You should, too. I'm so very proud of you."

"I have so many questions about everything you just said."

Liam smiled, caressing Riley's petal-soft cheeks and lowering his head to kiss her again. "All in due time, my love.”

Riley let out a deep, drawn-out yawn she lightly covered with her palm before stretching and rolling her neck. A couple of weeks' worth of planning and endless decisions had left heavy tension in her shoulders and overwhelming exhaustion like nothing she'd felt before. None of it went unnoticed by Liam, who placed his hands on her shoulders and gingerly kneaded the taut muscles. 

"What do you say about heading back to our quarters, taking off all of your clothes, and I'll be up soon to massage this gorgeous body from head to toe? And hopefully, when I'm through, you'll massage parts of me, too … with any part of your body that you'd like." His lips curved into an inviting smile.

"Mmm, that's tempting," she purred, rubbing her hands over his ample chest. "But I can't just leave. It's the Queen's Ball. Without me, it's just ... The Ball." She chuckled, despite herself.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little panties over the ball. Just go upstairs and take them off. I’ll handle everything down here. Then … “ He squatted down to her eye level. “ … I’ll handle you.”

Her heart fluttered every time Liam spoke to her that way. The way he desired only her. She bit the corner of her lip teasingly. “I love you so much.”

Liam smiled. “You better. You’ve got one hell of a husband. I’d even venture to say you’re the luckiest woman on the whole damn planet right now.” Before Riley could respond to his jest, he put both of his hands on her cheeks to hold her head still and began placing playful, wet smooches all over her face, causing her to laugh riotously. After a few seconds of her squirming around and cackling at his antics, he paused to look at her. “You know I love you, too. Now go on up. I’ll be right behind you soon.” 

With a pat to her backside, they went their separate ways.

---------

Liam returned to the ballroom, having offered to finish what little time was left without her. He would offer his apologies for her absence, but in reality, the King couldn’t have cared less what anyone there thought. Since his bachelor party weeks ago, he had grown from a man who had no choices to one who made his own. His marriage and relationship with Riley came first. Her wellbeing was the main priority -- to hell with anyone who had a problem with that.

As Riley placed a hand on the elegant wooden handrail of the grand staircase and took the first step up, her thoughts meandered to where she had been in her life one month ago and how vastly it had changed in such a short time. For the first time in years, she was happy, and it felt so good to be in that place where she could finally let go of the past and move on. Liam was a game-changer, and she was thoroughly convinced he was the only person on the planet who could have gotten her out of her own head and to this level of blissful existence.

Rounding the corner at the top of the stairs, she reached into her clutch to pull out the key card to her quarters, exhaustion slowing her strides. Shuffling past a row of closed office doors and framed artwork, she made her way to the residential wing. 

The squeak of a door behind her and the click of heels drew her attention, causing her to stop and turn to see who was there. 

The color drained from her face as Madeleine casually stepped out, her hands behind her back and a devious, unsettling grin cemented on her face. 

It wasn't the fear that made Riley's heart pound with a sickening thud, but more shock than anything. No one had seen or spoken to the Countess since the confrontation in Las Vegas when she showed up unexpectedly after finding out Liam had married Riley the night prior. 

Now, suddenly, there she was, as if out of nowhere, a gleam in her eye, looking all too pleased to have this run-in with Riley.

"A little dramatic, don't you think?" Riley scoffed, taking one step back the closer Madeleine approached. "What are you even doing here?"

"I'm not going to hurt you, if that's what you're worried about," she answered contemptuously. Her green eyes drifted to one of the cameras mantled at each end of the hallway. Riley placed a shaky hand over her stomach, letting out a low, relieved breath, hoping that was the truth. "Not physically, anyway."

"Well, that sounds promising," Riley replied sardonically. "Now, if you don't mind ..." She turned away, wanting nothing more than to escape this conversation and make it back to her quarters. 

Madeleine reached out and grabbed the Queen by her elbow, pulling her back and harshly twisting her around so they were now face-to-face. "You're not going anywhere until I'm through with you," she hissed with an icy glare. "I told you I would make you regret what you've done."

Riley jerked her arm, trying to free herself. "Let go of my arm, Madeleine!" 

"Not until you hear what I have to say."

"I'm not interested in anything you have to say! Now LET ME GO!" Riley hoped someone heard her yell or at least witnessed what was happening on the camera. Where the hell is security?

While continuing to struggle to free herself, she reached up with her free hand in an attempt to pry off Madeleine's bony fingers that were squeezing tight grooves around her elbow, her manicured nails digging deeper into Riley's skin. "You're hurting me. I said to let me go."

"Very well, then." The woman, who had twice lost her chance at the crown, released her firm grasp, knowing that the momentum would cause Riley to stumble back as soon as she let go. 

Just as predicted, Riley planted a foot behind her for leverage before drawing her arm back as hard as she could, one last time. Her eyes grew wide, and she let out a sharp gasp that sounded well down the corridor. Riley sailed backward, tripping over herself and toppling to the ground. She finally landed with a hard blow on her backside, the rear of her head just inches from slamming to the floor.

A shockwave of pain coursed up Riley's spine from hitting so abruptly. Before she had a chance to respond or process what happened, Madeleine crouched down beside her, holding a DVD up and gaining Riley's attention. 

The pain had morphed into a throbbing ache that was soon forgotten as the Queen stared quizzically at the object displayed in front of her like a grand prize. 

"What is that?" her voice trembled.

"It's my ace in the hole," Madeleine stated, then wagged a finger. "Someone used to be a very naughty girl." 

Furrowing her brows, Riley responded. "I don't know what you mean."

"You know precisely what I mean, but just in case, please allow me to refresh your memory," Madeleine smirked before rising to her feet and prancing around as if she were having the time of her life. "I did a little digging after my brief visit to Las Vegas and came across a man who knew you very, very well at one time. I made some calls. We exchanged e-mails, a transfer of money or two. And he was all too eager to accept my offer of payment for any dirt he could give me on you."

There was no point in asking "who" -- she already knew; the thought made her nauseous. Riley closed her eyes and muttered. "Tyler?"

"Yes," Madeleine beamed, " Your ex-husband. He had a lot to say about you."

"I'm sure he did. Does it even matter to you that he's a liar and a cheat -- not to mention greedy? He would make up anything if he thought he could profit off of it."

"Oh, it matters. Personally, I don't believe a damn thing he had to say. Honestly, Riley ... even someone like you could have done better than that slime."

Riley cringed in pain as she pushed herself off the floor and turned to her oppressor. "Just get to the point, Madeleine. Clearly, he gave you something you thought was valuable enough to use against me, so just spit it already."

Madeleine smiled, "How very astute of you. You're correct. He did." She held up the disc as Riley regarded it suspiciously. "On this disk are several hours of the two of you ... together. Very graphic, if I do say so myself." Riley's jaw dropped upon hearing those words as Madeleine continued, "Now don't worry. I only watched it long enough to make sure the video was legit --"

"Give me that!" Riley reached out to snatch the DVD, but Madeleine pulled it away just out of her grasp. A burning sensation filled inside her chest and spread across her face. "You're lying. I never made videos like that."

"Oh, I think you did," the blonde countered with a mirthful tone. "You just didn't know about it. Your ex admitted as much to me ... an asshole move, for sure. But nonetheless, I purchased the copy from him for a hefty sum. And ... well ... here we are now. You're more than welcome to take this disc and see for yourself; I have it downloaded as a backup, knowing you'd want proof."

At that moment, all Riley wanted was for Liam to walk down that corridor where she now stood, pick her up in his arms, whisk her away to safety, and tell her it was all a bad dream. Not that she did anything wrong -- she was married at one time to the man, presumably on the video, and would have been a consenting adult. 

No, it was the fact that Tyler Brooks had taken intimate videos with her during their marriage, without her knowledge. Now Madeleine had possession of them.

God only knew what she planned to do with them, but Riley had a pretty good idea. "What do you want?" she whispered in defeat, afraid to hear the answer.

Madeleine grinned from ear-to-ear. "For you to leave Cordonia tonight and never return, or I release everything to the press."

Riley shook her head. "No. As much as I don't want anyone to see that video, I did nothing wrong, and I won't be blackmailed or intimidated by you so that you can get your grubby little paws on the crown."

"Is that so?" It wasn't a question so much as a remark meant to convey who was in control. 

Maintaining her position, Riley raised a brow, refusing to give in.

Madeleine was far from giving up, though; she had manipulation in her blood. "Very well, then. I'll release the video in the morning. It should be interesting to see how the world reacts to yet another scandal by this monarchy. Their Queen plastered all over the internet again, except this time, uploaded on every porn site on the web. 

"The news will run the story with your blurred-out silhouette in the background. Your father will see it, and his business will become a target.: Your friends. Family. Students. They'll all be inundated with your sexual proclivities. But the worst part will be the tribunal. The council will have no choice but to question Liam's decision-making abilities after not only squandering his pick of queen on some American nobody, but now one whose ass will be featured on the desktops of teenage boys across the world. It's a shame that he'll lose his reign, all because of you. Would you really do that to Liam? Do you genuinely believe you're worth all the trouble it will cause him?"

Riley froze. She knew Madeleine was taunting her with the people she cared about the most. The last thing she wanted was to embarrass each of them. But to possibly cause Liam to lose his legacy, his birthright, and the rulership of a country he loved so much? It was something she couldn't shake. 

Staring blankly, twisting the bands of gold that belonged to Liam's mother, she couldn't get the question Madeleine just asked out of her mind: Did Riley believe she was worth the trouble it would cost him? 

Nothing was damning on that video, aside from the fact that she never knew it existed. But she already had so much to prove; another video in the press' hand would tarnish Liam. Maybe the Countess of Fydelia was right: He would lose it all.

"Time is ticking," Madeleine reminded Riley as she tapped her watch. "What's it going to be?"

----------

@burnsoslow​ @dcbbw​ @ao719​ @hopefulmoonobject​ @jessiembruno​ @texaskitten30​ @janezillow​ @merridithsmiscellany-blog​ @mskaneko @callmeellabella​ @queenjilian @sirbeepsalot @drakexwillow @caroldxnvxrs​ @jovialyouthmusic​ @forthebrokenheartedthings​ @bebepac​ @kingliam2019​ @lovablegranny​ @cordoniaqueensworld​ @amandablink​ @liamxs-world​ @choiceskatie @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie @charlotteg234 @annekebbphotography​ @txemrn​ @thecordoniandiaries @alyssalauren​ @cordonianroyalty @monsoonbloom12 @mom2000aggie​ @theroyalheirshadowhunter​ @princessleac1​ @kimmiedoo5​ @graceful-leah​ @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @thegreentwin​ @gkittylove99​ @cinnamonspongecake @lifeaskim @neotericthemis​ @pink-diamond13​ @walker7519 @natureblooms24​ @yourmajesty09​ @gabesmommie1130​ @sweatyrysconnoisour @kat-tia801​ @debmcg1106

Liam x MC: Cordonia-gothqueen

FRI Series Tags:   @narrytheworld​​  @queenwalton​  @cordonianprincess​        @zaffrenotes​ @zilch3​  @drrookie​ @sfb123​​

[sfb123]

Sapere Aude - Part 5

Book: The Royal Heir

Pairing: King Liam Rys x Queen Riley Brooks

All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Catch Up Here

Series Description: I developed a theory of what I think will happen in TRH Book 4, and I was encouraged by some very lovely people to turn my theory into a fic, so here it is. Basically, Riley is recruited to join the Via Imperii, this series will follow her as she joins them to try and bring them down from the inside, and all of the drama and bombshells she learns along the way. Sapere Aude is Latin for “dare to know” it seemed like an appropriate title.

Rating: PG-13 Adult language, allusions to smut (but nothing graphic), discussions of death, conspiracy, blackmail, and other adult themes.

Warning: The Royal Heir Book 3 Spoilers all over the place.

Word Count: 3,189

Notes: This is kind of a transitional chapter, no major plot movement (but there is some major Uncle Drake time, if that helps). If I had combined it with the next chapter, it would have been way too long. I promise I’m going to make up for it in the next chapter. 

As always, one love to my pre-readers @texaskitten30​ & @txemrn​, I’m surprising you both with some extra content that was not in the preread (chapter 6 got way too long, so I took the opening fluff and added it to the end of this chapter). And thank you @twinkleallnight​ for my moodboard!

Tags: Everyone is tagged below, whether or not you get notified of said tag, I guess that’s in the hands of the Tumblr gods 🤷🏻‍♀️

Riley’s eyes slowly fluttered open as she took in her surroundings, she was in an ornate bedroom that she didn’t recognize. “Oh good, you’re awake.” Mara walked toward the bed from the corner of the room where she had been sitting. 

“Mara, what happened?” Riley asked.

“You passed out, you had me worried for a moment there.” Mara poured her a glass of water from the pitcher on the nightstand. 

Memories started coming back to Riley, she remembered being at the event and taking mental note of the members in attendance. Then she remembered the speaker approaching the podium, it was Liam’s mother. Nope, that can’t be right. I had already passed out at that point. That was a dream, some weird Wizard of Oz shit. Just then, there was a knock on the door. Riley watched as Mara rushed over to the door, opening it slightly and saying something to the person on the other side. Riley tried, but she was unable to hear what was being said.

“Who was that?” Riley asked as Mara closed the door and headed back to her bedside. 

“Just someone checking on you. Tell me what you remember about what happened?” 

“Nothing really, I remember being in the room and looking around, then everything went black. I had the weirdest dream while I was out though. Liam’s mother, she was up at the podium, giving a speech.” She took in Mara’s serious expression, and started feeling uneasy again. “Mara, that was a dream...right? Liam’s mother died a long time ago.”

Mara took a deep breath, “Actually, that was not a dream, Eleanor is the leader of the Via Imperii’s Cordonian chapter.”

“But why? How? She’s been alive this whole time?” Just when I thought this couldn’t get weirder. Maybe I’m still dreaming, I haven’t woken up yet. Yeah, that’s it. She pinched her arm and quickly flinched in pain. Nope, definitely real life. Liam’s mother is alive, she has been this whole time. Liam has spent most of his life mourning a woman that not only betrayed his family, but that wasn’t even dead. How is it possible that things are still getting worse? 

“I believe that is something she is more qualified to answer herself. She is outside waiting to speak with you. Should I let her in?”

“I don’t know. What do I say? How am I supposed to act? What does one say to their dead mother-in-law that isn’t actually dead?” There was a slight tremble in her voice. “Mara, I’m freaking the fuck out here. What am I supposed to do?”

Mara sat on the side of the bed and put a comforting hand on Riley’s shoulder. “It is entirely your decision, but I promise you, things will become much more clear once you speak with her. I know this is a shock, but just listen to her.”

Riley closed her eyes and took a couple of deep breaths, trying to center herself. “Ok, let her in.” 

Aside from a few creases along her mouth and eyes, you would have sworn that the woman entering the room had stepped right out of the many photographs Liam had shown Riley over the years. Damn, I guess faking your death is a pretty good anti-aging cure. As Eleanor approached, Riley sat up further on the bed and leaned her back against the headboard. 

“Riley, I can’t tell you how happy I am to finally be sitting down with you. We have so much to discuss.” Eleanor took the chair from the vanity and placed it next to the bed.

Understatement of the century. “I have so many questions, I don’t even know where to start.”

“I’m sure you do dear, and I will answer all of them, but you have already been through so much tonight. You need your rest.” She patted RIley’s hand soothingly. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright. I would like to come by Valtoria tomorrow for brunch, we can talk then.”

“Valtoria...my Valtoria? But you’re supposed to be dead, everyone will see you. Drake will see you, he’ll know who you are.” Riley started to panic. “Eleanor is there...I mean, my Eleanor...Eleanor the second?” 

“Shh, it’s alright Riley. As much as I would love to meet my granddaughter, you are absolutely right, she and Drake can’t know that I am there. Just tell them you have a meeting, and ask Drake to take her out for a bit. Knowing him, I’m sure he’d be more than happy to take her on a little nature walk. As far as being seen, I’ve managed this long without my secret getting out. Don’t worry, I have my ways of running under the radar.”

Riley could only nod, her head still swimming with all of these thoughts and questions. Eleanor stood, giving Riley a kind goodbye and leaving the room. 

After a little more rest, and time to process the conversation she just had, Mara escorted Riley out of the estate and brought her back to Valtoria. Riley was looking forward to the comfort of being in her own home, and seeing her daughter. Eleanor was no doubt asleep already, but even just checking in on her and seeing that little face, was the most calm Riley could hope for at the moment. 

As she entered her daughter’s bedroom, she smiled to herself. Eleanor was asleep on her Uncle’s lap, while he also snored soundly, the book they were reading long forgotten on the floor in front of them. Riley gently lifted her daughter out of Drake’s arms, causing him to stir. 

“Hey Brooks. Sorry, she must have really worn me out.” He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he stood out of the oversized armchair. 

Riley gently laid her still sleeping daughter in the bed, and kissed her forehead as she tucked her in. “Trust me, if anyone understands it’s me.” She turned to her friend and gave him a hug. “Thank you so much for staying with her, Drake. I always feel better leaving her with a friend when Liam and I can’t be there.” 

The exhaustion and stress were evident in Riley’s voice. A concerned Drake nodded toward the door, signaling that they should leave Eleanor to sleep. “Are you alright? You’ve been acting weird, different, all day.” He asked as he gently shut the door behind them.

“Yea, I’m good, I promise.” Riley lied. “This event tonight, it was just one of those things that would have been so much easier with Liam. I mean, they all are, but you know what I mean.” Drake nodded as he put his arm around her shoulder and they walked toward her room. “Hey, do you mind taking Eleanor out for a bit tomorrow, like late morning-ish? I had someone tonight request a meeting, and it’s kind of time sensitive.”

“Of course, that’s what I came for. Maybe I’ll take her fishing. Would that be ok? I’d love to teach her.” 

Riley smiled at his enthusiasm, but the smile didn’t quite meet her eyes. Drake noticed. “I think that would be a great idea. I believe the gear you got her for her birthday is in the sporting shed.” 

“You know I’m not going to let this go, right? Something’s going on with you and Liam. You’re my best friends, I’m not going to just sit here and pretend something isn’t bothering you guys.”

Riley checked either side of the hallway before leading Drake into her room. As she shut the door with one hand, she raised the other to her face, signaling for Drake to be quiet. She grabbed her phone and opened the notepad app, typing a message to Drake.

Do you know how to check for bugs?

Drake furrowed his brows and nodded his head. 

Do it. 

Drake did a full sweep of the room and the balcony, and returned to Riley, who was now sitting on the bench at the end of her bed. “Alright, we’re good. Now what the hell is going on?”

She explained about the Via Imperii to Drake. She didn’t tell him everything, and she definitely didn’t tell him that Liam’s mother is alive, or that that was the meeting she was taking tomorrow. Drake listened intently to everything, his only interruption was a ‘fucking Neville’ when she was telling him about the other members. She told him that one of the higher ups from the organization wanted to meet with her tomorrow, not a lie, and that’s why she wanted him to take Eleanor out of the estate for a while. 

Everything that had happened since she and Liam stepped out of the palace doors that morning suddenly made sense to Drake. And it now made sense why Liam had asked him to go with them instead of Maxwell. He wanted protection for his family, not just someone to keep them company. 

“Ok, so who else knows? What can I do?”

“Liam wanted to wait until we had some more information to tell anyone else. I know I probably should have waited to talk to him first, but tonight was awful Drake, just so damn awful. And I can’t call Liam and tell him, because I don’t know if they’re listening to our calls, and I can’t keep it all to myself for another 48 hours.” She sighed deeply and ran a hand through her hair. “He just didn’t want us accidentally telling someone that was part of it. I’m so sorry we didn’t tell you. It’s not that we didn’t think we could trust you. It’s just, finding out his mother was involved, it hit him hard, Drake. I think he just feels so betrayed by her, it’s making him extra cautious of our inner circle.”

Drake pulled her into a hug and held her close. “Hey, it’s alright, I totally get it. If I found out something like that, I mean, I can’t even imagine.”

As they separated, Riley let out a yawn. “I should probably at least try to get some sleep. Thanks Drake, for everything.”

“Yea, of course. You guys are my family, I’ll always be here. You sure you’ll be alright?”

Riley nodded and walked him to the door. They said their good nights, and Drake headed down the hall to his room, while Riley shut the door and changed into her pajamas. She laid in bed, staring at the ceiling. She spent most of the night wondering what Eleanor would say to her tomorrow, and listing out all of the questions she was going to ask. She was grateful that she was given a chance to gather her thoughts before having to go too deep with her. She would finally be able to walk into a Via Imperii interaction prepared. Or so she hoped. 

Riley never got a good night's sleep when she and Liam were apart. She had grown accustomed to falling asleep in his arms, and no weighted blanket on the planet could replicate that feeling. The emptiness of her bed, combined with the events of the night before, and Riley wasn’t sure anything that happened over the last couple of hours could even be considered sleep. She nodded off a couple of times, but every time the REM cycle started to kick in, she would see Liam’s mother and be jolted awake. Finally, she couldn’t take the tossing and turning any longer, so she got out of bed and decided to work with Gladys to make preparations for their meeting. 

Before she did that, she wanted to go get Eleanor and make sure she was up and ready for her fishing date with Uncle Drake. As she entered her daughter’s bedroom, she saw Eleanor sitting at her table, with her back to the door, having a tea party with her stuffed animals. “Good morning, Princess.”

Eleanor turned and smiled, immediately running up to her and wrapping her arms around Riley. “Hi Mommy, come have tea with us!” She grabbed her mother’s hand and walked her to the small table. She moved one of the stuffed animals out of it’s chair, kissing it on the nose and placing it on the bed. “Sorry Woogie. Mommy, sit.” She pointed at the now empty chair. 

“Eleanor, remember our manners?” Riley raised an eyebrow at her. 

“Mommy sit...please?” She looked up with a questioning expression. 

“That’s my girl.”

They sat and ‘drank tea’, Eleanor explaining every moment of her evening with her uncle the night before with so much enthusiasm. Riley watched Eleanor’s arms gesture wildly as she talked about the game of hide and seek that they played. 

Eleanor stopped her story at the sound of Riley’s phone ringing, and squealed with excitement at the sight of her father’s face on the screen. “It’s Daddy, it’s Daddy!”

“Here, you answer it, he’ll be happy to see your face.” Riley swiped accept on the video call request, and handed the phone to Eleanor. 

Riley sat back and watched the two most important people in her life talking and laughing like there wasn’t a care in the world, when Riley knew that that world was actually in the process of crumbling. She made sure that Eleanor got the phone first so that she could take that time to compose herself before she talked to Liam. They would talk, but she couldn’t tell him anything about last night. Even if she could, a FaceTime call was not the way to deliver that news. She snapped out of her thought when she heard Liam from the other side of the phone.

“I love you too, princess. Can you please give the phone to Mommy?”

As Riley took the phone, she stood from her seat, giving Eleanor a kiss on the head. “I’m going to go talk to Daddy, Finish up your tea party, Uncle Drake is going to be taking you fishing soon.”

“YAY! Fishies!”

Riley exited the room and leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath before holding the phone up to her face. “Good morning, handsome.” She smiled softly at the sight of her husband on the other end.

“Hello, beautiful. How did you sleep?” 

“Do you really need to ask? You know you’ve spoiled me all these years, I can’t fall asleep without you.” She was determined to keep the conversation light. If it veered away from that at all, she wasn’t sure she would be able to hold back. Especially with the lack of sleep she was experiencing. 

“Trust me love, I understand. I’m already on my third cup of coffee, just one more night, and we will be together again.” His eyes said everything he wasn’t able to say in that call. They were having a silent conversation about how awful the previous night had been for Riley, and how sorry he was , how badly he wanted to be there to hold her and make it all go away. 

“It’s going to be the longest night of my life, just so you know.” She sighed, checking her watch briefly. “Liam, I have to go. I had a last minute meeting come up, and I have to go get everything ready.”

Liam nodded, knowing exactly what the meeting was in reference to, or so he thought. “Of course, I have to get ready for my day as well. I will call you later on to check in. I love you Riley, I will see you tomorrow.”

“I love you too, Liam.” She ended the call, and a single tear trailed down her cheek. She wiped it away and stood up straight. She didn’t have time to break down, she had a brunch to host. 

Riley worked with Gladys to prepare the solarium for her brunch meeting. Liam had told her how much his mother loved the gardens at the palace, so she thought that this would be an appropriate setting for their meeting. Sure, the circumstances were anything but pleasant, but this was still Eleanor Rys. This woman brought Liam, her Liam, into the world. No matter what happened in this meeting, or what became of this relationship, she would be eternally grateful to this woman for giving her the love of her life. 

She impressed on Gladys the importance of privacy for this meeting, all food and beverages were to be set out ahead of their guest’s arrival, chafing dishes and coffee carafes sat on one of the tables to ensure no servers needed to enter the room. Once the door was shut, nobody was to enter until the Queen said so. Eleanor had gone this long living under the radar, Riley certainly wasn’t going to be the one to ruin her life as a dead woman. 

Once the instructions had been laid out for the staff, Riley moved to the entryway of the estate to see Drake and Eleanor off on their fishing adventure. She walked in just as Drake was handing Eleanor her mini, hot pink, fishing rod. “Here you go, kiddo. Make sure you hold it up like this, so that you don’t poke anyone while you’re walking.”

She got a mischievous gleam in her eye. One that Drake instantly recognized from the countless times it flashed across Riley’s face, right before she’d do something that drove him crazy. Eleanor turned the rod, holding it horizontally, and jabbing it into Drake’s shins. “Poke poke poke!” 

Riley burst out laughing causing Drake to snap his head in her direction, and giving Eleanor the encouragement she needed to continue her assault on her Uncle. “To be fair, you kind of asked for it. You gave her step by step instructions.”

“Of what not to do! I guess I forgot who's kid I was talking to.” He gently took the rod out of Eleanor’s hand. “Here, I’ll carry it out to the car for you princess.”

“Thank you Uncle Drake!” She ran into her mother’s arms. “Bye Mommy!”

“Bye baby girl. Be a good princess, and make sure you do everything Uncle Drake says.” She gave Eleanor one more squeeze and let her go before approaching Drake. “Thanks for doing this, I know you didn’t expect to spend the whole weekend on babysitting duty.”

“Hey, it’s nothing. I wanted to get some fishing in while I was here anyway, always nice to have a little company.” He ruffled Eleanor’s hair as his face turned more serious. “You going to be ok?”

“The image of my daughter ramming a fishing rod into your shins should be enough to get me through it.” 

“She hangs out with you too much. She needs to spend more time with Liam so she can learn that stoicism shit.” They both laughed as he pulled her into a quick hug. “We’ll be back in a few hours.”

Riley waved as they exited the estate. Yup, that’s my daughter. Taught her everything she knows. She smiled to herself at the thought. She saw Mara approach out of the corner of her eye, and turned to face her. 

“Your appointment is here ma’am, she’s waiting for you in the solarium.”

Continue Reading

Tags: @txemrn @texaskitten30 @kingliam2019 @anjanettexcordonia @twinkleallnight @mile9213 @kittypryde-bipride @motorcitymademadame @kat-tia801 @bebepac @gkittylove99 @khoicesbyk @jessiembruno @queenrileyrose @athena-penrose @pixie88 @eadanga @choicesficwriterscreations @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie @annarenee355 @burnsoslow @shewillreadyou @imturaxamara

[pascalpanic]

Vera Vota (Deity!Maxwell Lord x f!Reader)- Prologue: Vera Vota & Chapter One: A Strange Accent

Summary: The god of wishes, known to humans as Maxwell Lord, is looking for entertainment and chaos. It’s been a while since he meddled with the humans, and he crafts the perfect package for a disaster. Choosing the first kind person he sees (reader), he bestows the Dreamstone to the mortal in an attempt to bring some destruction to the world. After all, he believes man is inherently evil. Maxwell will soon learn: is man truly evil, or do the pure of heart exist out there?

WC: 537 (Prologue), 2k (Chapter One)

Warnings: none (Prologue), Maxwell Lord being chaotic and a little forward (Chapter One), separate ratings will apply as new chapters are released

A/N: Well! Here we are! This will be my first series and I can’t wait for everyone to read it. Thank you so much to @poesflygirl, @ilikechocolatemilkh​, and @mandoalorian​ for your help and listening to my endless rambles!

Prologue: Vera Vota (Latin, “wishes come true”)

He was looking for chaos. When wasn’t he? As the gods often did, he turned to humanity for entertainment. It had felt like eons since he had meddled with the humans, creating fool’s gold to mess with them. What could he do? What could throw a wrench into the machine of humankind?

It had to be something of his own devising. He couldn’t use something that some other god had created, nor could he use something made by a human. But it needed power, enough to control all of their world. He couldn’t manipulate a country at a time… no, for maximum effect, he needed to start with just one human. 

The human would have to be trusting, someone at least somewhat good. It would be easier to trick a naive human into cooperation than it would be to find one willing to follow through once they knew of his plan.

Now, what could he do? What could one randomly selected human do to bring a sense of panic across their measly globe? It had to be some kind of weapon. Not the giant bombs that humanity had already created. Nothing destructive in a physical way. Something that would make the humans… wish. He was the god of wishes, after all. 

What if… no, he thought. That wouldn’t work… or would it? 

The random human, they would be given something so powerful to turn them into a superhuman. They would be granted some ultimate power, and he would use their power as his little game. 

He hummed and tapped his fingers on the pyrite throne beneath him, stirring the infant griffin resting on his shoulder. “Hello, my dear,” he murmured. “No need to worry. Just your father thinking,” he told the little thing and stroked its tiny wings. 

He crossed his legs and gazed at the marble ceiling, letting his brain come up with any idea he could. Humans were fools, he knew. But what if…

Using his power, he conjured a token. He wasn’t sure what it would be; he allowed the power to choose something in a perfect shape for it. He smiled as he opened his eyes. Hovering between his hands was a warm orange stone, a little bit of rock at the base. A dream stone, he nodded. He took the object in his hands and brought it to his lips, breathing power into it. 

What power, he wondered, will bring humankind to their knees? What will they be willing to allow in? What did humans… want?

That was the answer, he realized and he breathed the power of the wish into the stone, now faintly glowing inside. No two humans wanted the same thing. The stone could grant wishes. But that wasn’t enough. If the stone could only grant wishes, it would only cause wonderful things. No, the stone had to do something else… like take something in return. His hot breath made the crystal glow brighter, even warming in his hands. 

“Perfect,” he murmured and pressed a kiss to the stone in his hands. The glowing stopped, and the stone returned to its cool temperature of before, matching the ambient air around it. He grinned into the crystal, still holding it to his face. It is time for the chaos to begin.

Chapter 1: A Strange Accent

You aggressively jam the walk button, shoving your hands inside of your sweater again. It’s quite chilly outside, the coldest day of the fall so far, and you want nothing more than to get indoors as soon as possible. You hadn’t expected it to get cold and so you were vastly unprepared as you walked home from work, wrapping the cardigan tighter around your body. You scurry across the street, sighing as you open the door to your favorite coffee shop and are immediately flooded with warmth and the scent of espresso. 

Sighing, you wander towards the counter to place your order, your face forming a frown as you notice there’s someone in line. The shop is usually desolate at this hour, just a short time before they close for the night. People rarely want coffee this late, but you need it tonight. It was a long day at the office, and you had been caught up in editing a manuscript when you looked up and discovered it was dark.

The man is taking a while to order, and you cross your arms as you stand behind him and wait. His voice has an odd lilt to it, and you listen to the tone as he tells the barista what he wants. Your brow furrows in concentration, trying to place his accent. It sounds like his native tongue is some kind of romance language, maybe Spanish or Portuguese. Unintentionally, you lose yourself in the drone of the man’s voice.

You’re jilted from your state of near mesmerization as he turns and makes eye contact with you. Almost gasping, you bite on your lip. He must’ve noticed you staring at him in some reflection, or noticed your eavesdropping, you think, but he cuts your thoughts off in your tracks. “Excuse me, miss. Do you have a dollar bill?” he asks in that enchanting voice, his eyes trained on yours, bulging from the interruption.

Oh, she’s absolutely perfect, Maxwell thinks to himself, a small smile on his face. He’s always loved the humans that are taken aback by him, the humans attracted to him. It strokes his ego, plain and simple.

You nod and open your purse, rummaging for a bill without a hesitation. You’re a helpful person, this is no different, you tell yourself. You frequently share your spare change with the homeless folks on the streets of D.C. as you walk to work. If a stranger simply asks for a dollar, you oblige. It has nothing to do with how entranced by this man you find yourself. 

As you hand him the bill, you look up and over his torso and face. He’s wearing a large pinstriped suit and a coat on top of it, fitting the fashion of the current year. His skin is a beautiful color, indescribable really. His face has deep lines but they fit him, and his eyes are a lovely chocolate brown. His hair seems to be highlighted; you find that odd, but don’t comment. It works on him, a layer of gold above a similar chocolate brown to his eyes. His eyes meet yours again and he smiles. “Thank you, miss…” he trails off and raises an eyebrow, asking for your name.

You tell him with a nod and he takes your hand in his, kissing the knuckles, his eyes never leaving yours. No ring on the wedding finger, good. “You’re welcome. I mean, it’s a dollar,” you ramble and shrug a little, feeling the butterflies stir in your stomach at his gaze. 

He drops your hand gently and smiles. “Still, very generous. Thank you.” He nods and turns back to the barista, who asks for his name. The man takes a moment, an almost suspicious amount of time, before feigning that he didn’t hear her. “Maxwell,” he says slowly, his voice as sweet and shimmering as the golden color of honey.

It’s a name that fits the man. Plenty of men went by Max. Hell, it’s 1984, that’s one of the most common names, you think to yourself. But Maxwell holds a different tone. It’s elegant, refined. Very much like the man. He pays her and turns to you once more. “Could I have the honor of sitting with such a kind woman while we drink our coffee?” he offers.

Despite your beauty, you’re not very used to flirtation. It makes your heart skip a little bit in your chest to hear the words, especially from such a gorgeous man. You had planned on taking your coffee to go, but his offer makes you weak at the knees. “I’d like that,” you nod and he points to a nearby table, informing you that that’s where he’ll be. You nod and order from the barista, the one you’ve known for a while now, and she gives you an excited little smile. 

After you order, you sit across from Maxwell at the small table. “So, what brings you here this late?” you ask him, genuinely curious.

He shrugs. “Something inside of me told me I needed a cappuccino, I suppose,” he shrugs, eliciting a small giggle from the both of you. God, he’s beautiful, you think to yourself as you look at him. You prop your chin on your palm as you look over at the man, waiting for the real answer. “What about yourself?” he asks.

You look at him with curiosity, surprised he never gave a real reason. “Well,” you chuckle, fidgeting with your hair with your free hand, “I stayed far later than I was supposed to at the office. I’m an editor, and I have this novel I need to finish looking over by tomorrow morning. I was working on it all day, since I forgot about it, but then I looked at the clock and it was 7:30. I need to keep working on it, though, so I figured I’d drop by this place for some espresso.” Normally you’d never babble like this, but something in his behavior compels you to spill everything. “I need to get home and finish it, so I need something to keep me up while I do it.”

Maxwell’s expression droops a little. “Don’t let me keep you,” he says, tilting his head a little. “If you need to get home and work on it, do it.” He presents you the easy out, allowing you to leave right now. You don’t take it, and he smiles a little to himself. You’re the person, he decides then and there.

“No, no. I needed a break. It hurts my head to stare at that tiny writing for too long,” you chuckle and shake your head. “It was perfect timing for me.”

“Me too,” he says, trying to hold the excitement back from his smile. His first try, his first descent to Earth on his little mission, and he finds the perfect mark. The barista calls out your names and you scoot your chair back to move but he holds out a hand. “No, allow me,” he says with a gentlemanly gesture, his hand resting on your shoulder for a moment. 

Maxwell returns with two porcelain mugs on matching white saucers, setting your drink in front of you. Your macchiato steams enticingly and it takes all of your effort to hold back from grabbing the hot drink and downing it, letting the warmth radiate through your core. Instead, you cup the mug with both hands, sighing as it warms your cold fingers. You look over at his drink, a cappuccino. It’s fitting, you think, bringing the coffee close to your face and letting the steam warm your frost-chilled nose. 

The two of you converse for a while. It’s less conversation, you realize after a moment, and more of the two of you discussing your life. You stop once you realize that. “I’m sorry, I’m rambling. Tell me about yourself,” you say and change the topic, sipping the last of your macchiato and setting the empty mug back down on the saucer.

Maxwell sighs and pushes his wavy gold hair from his eyes. “Are you a religious woman?” He asks. 

How abrupt, you think to yourself, and shake your head. “This is about you-”

“It will be, but answer that first.” His response is odd and your throat goes dry. Did you just find yourself extremely attracted to this man only for him to start pitching Scientology to you or something? You shake your head again. “Is that no, you’re non-religious, or no as in you’re an atheist?” he asks. This situation is increasingly odd, and you gather your cardigan around yourself. “Not religious, just don’t have thoughts on that. If you’ll excuse me-” you start to sling your purse across your shoulder but he puts a hand on yours, stopping you, calling your name. 

He looks into your eyes, and you can’t quite read them, but his expression is certainly odd. “Good. I…” he trails off. “I’m a deity,” he admits to you.

You snort a laugh at that. “Okay, and I’m secretly the heir to Atlantis. Thanks for the conversation, Maxwell, but-”

“Watch,” he commands you, and you follow as he brings his fingers to the edge of your mug. Your mind races suddenly; did he spike it? Are you about to get murdered? He traces a finger around the rim and suddenly, the mug is refilled with a steaming macchiato. You blink in confusion. “There’s no way…” you trail off, murmuring, staring at the cup and sitting again. You lift the mug, feeling the heat radiating through the porcelain. You look up at him and he has a small smile. 

“What else do you want me to do to prove it?” He asks. 

You bite your lip and look down. “Tell me my childhood dog’s name.”

He chuckles and leans back in his seat. “I’m not omniscient. I’m the god of wishes, my dear,” he smiles, and you notice there’s a glint of gold shining through the previously solid brown irises in his eyes. “Tell me to do something, and I can do it.”

This is terrifying, you have to admit, but it’s real. It has to be. There’s no other explanation for that. “You just refilled my mug. Make it tea.” 

“You have to wish for it,” he tells you, face clearly showing he’s getting pleasure from showing off his powers to you. “Touch me and wish for it.”

Groaning, you put your hand on top of his. “I wish for you to change this coffee to tea,” you say, fed up with his mood. 

The man nods and the foamy brown contents of the mug become a clear green tea. You swallow hard as you look down at it, in disbelief. “Go on, try it,” he tells you, a smirk on his face. 

“How do I know you didn’t do something to it? That it doesn’t have drugs in it?”

“I give you my word.”

It still scares you, but you lift the mug with shaky hands and sip it. It’s green tea, plain and simple.

“Since you gave me that dollar,” he explains, “I am indebted to you. I have a gift I believe you will want. A gift that will allow you to fulfill your wildest dreams.”

You narrow your eyes. “That doesn’t sound worth a dollar.”

Maxwell chuckles at that. “It’s not the dollar; it’s the fact that you gave it to me so willingly. You are a worthy human of this, what I am going to give you.”

This doesn’t make sense. You shake your head. “No, no thank you. I can’t- no.”

“Yes. This is for you,” he tells you, and out of nowhere, he’s holding an amber-colored crystal. “As a gift of my thanks.” You reluctantly take it from him, admiring it, unsure of what it does, what it is. You open your mouth to speak but he beats you to it. “This is the Dreamstone.”

[marvel-and-mischief]

His Saving Grace - Part III

Title: His Saving Grace - Maxwell Lord x F!Reader  Words: 2700 Warnings: Swearing, a conversation about a domestic abuse case but nothing graphic Synopsis: Maxwell finds out what you’ve been hiding and confronts you about it

Part I  -  Part II

It was like the floor had been wiped out from under Maxwell’s feet, the wind knocked from his lungs. Had he seriously made a mistake again? Was his judgement really that skewed that once more he had done what he thought was right and it was turning out to be wrong? You had been so unassuming, the first to be truly kind to Maxwell when you could have been like everybody else. There had to be more to the story, surely?

It hadn’t taken Maxwell long to find your old place of work in the telephone directory. He had spent the morning finding law firms specialising in family law, and rang them one by one asking whether they had previously employed you and had hit the correct one on the sixth try.

Myles and Cooper were a family law firm in the centre of Washington D.C. The secretary who spoke to Maxwell had given him the spiel on when it had been established and what they could offer potential clients but he hadn’t really been listening. And as soon as he had mentioned your name the sickly sweet old woman had quickly turned sour. 

“Look, we’ve put out all the press statements we have, you’re not getting any more on the story.”

Maxwell frowned. Press statements? He knew there had been more to the story you were refusing to tell him, but the hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end and the feeling of being left in the dark was beginning to frustrate him. 

“I’m no journalist. I have recently employed your former colleague-“

“Oh you haven’t, have you? Dear me, do you not read the local newspapers?”

Maxwell bit his tongue at being interrupted, tapping impatiently on the arm of the couch he sat on. 

“I’ve been a little busy lately, would you mind telling me what happened?”

The woman on the other end gave an exasperated sigh.

“Will you be requiring any services from Myles and Cooper?” 

“What? No-“

“Then go to your local library and you’ll find out.” And with that the connection was cut off.

Maxwell took a second to stare at the handset before slamming down the phone and making a mental note to never employ that particular law firm in the future.

But that was how he came to be hidden in the shadowy back corner of his local library, a table to himself with various newspapers dating from 25th April, all the way up to the last article he could find with your name in it on 10th July. 

Maxwell knew how the media worked, the sensationalist headlines, the hyperbolic language, even the pictures they used of you, it was all contrived to make you into someone you weren’t. Usually someone worse, and he was ashamed to say it was working.

Shameful Lawyer Wins Case in Favor of Unfit Mother

Maxwell re-read the headline on the front of the earliest newspaper. It was tame compared to some of the later articles that unnecessarily picked apart your personal life and painted you as a heartless witch who hated children. In the short time he had met you Maxwell couldn’t believe any of that was true. 

Or maybe that was exactly who you were and Maxwell had been fooled. He had been desperate when he called you up, was practically begging for anyone to help him. Was this just an elaborate way of making him pay for all he’d done? Get close enough to him to give him false hope then tear him down even further? And he had fallen hook, line and sinker.

“I’m being paranoid, you can’t be as bad as this,” Maxwell mumbled to himself, eyes flicking over the pictures of you shielding from the flashing lights of the cameras, hiding behind your purse, head in your hands in coffee shops and even one picture of you sticking up a pixelated middle finger to the press. 

Maxwell had been scared before, anxious at times especially in recent weeks, but he wasn’t going to add ‘paranoid’ to his growing list of problems. Pulling up the hood of his coat, Maxwell knew he had to get your side of the story.

-

You hadn’t expected to meet Maxwell again so soon, but he had been insistent on the phone, demanding to see you that evening over an ‘urgent matter’ that he had to talk to you about in person. You had left his apartment the day before on such good terms that you weren’t worried. 

That was until you reached his door. He hadn’t been waiting for you like the first time so you had to knock and wait. When he opened the door he did so slowly, features emotionless, eyes not able to meet yours as he indicated to you to follow him inside. 

He didn’t say a word when you entered the apartment and headed towards the couch. 

“Has something happened?” You enquired, matching Maxwell’s stance when he stayed standing in the middle of the living room. His arms were crossed, hair slightly out of place as though he didn’t take the time to do much more than comb through it this morning. Something was on his mind and you hoped it wasn’t what you feared.

“I want to hear you say it. I want to know what your truth is.” Maxwell’s voice was stern but not unfair, you imagined it was his ‘dad’ voice whenever Alistair had done something naughty. It made you feel so small, pathetic even, that of all the people to be talking down to you it was Public Enemy Number One. 

You knew then that he had found out. And he saw that recognition in your eyes when you guiltily slumped down onto the arm of the couch, making yourself physically smaller under his intense scrutiny. Maxwell chuckled humorlessly and that made you sit up, a look of defiance taking over. Who was this man to judge you? When he didn’t know the full story, when he knew perfectly well what it was like to have the world against you? 

“It’s not what the papers say,” you stressed, swallowing down the lump in your throat before continuing, “I took on a case that had been passed on and on and that should have been the first indication that it wasn’t what it seemed.”

You couldn’t bare to look into Maxwell’s penetrating stare, but you saw his shoulders relax as you started to talk, encouraging you to keep going. 

“The case was a woman with three children, she’d already divorced her husband and wanted full custody of them. She claimed her ex was abusive, an alcoholic, that she was terrified of what he would do to the children if he was left alone with them. It was all lies. I didn’t realise this until it was too late.”

Maxwell quietly sat on the other end of the couch whilst you spoke, listening intently as you tried to keep your emotions under control and the shake out of your voice. 

“I only saw the ex-husband for the first time on day one of court. But I knew immediately she had been lying. Whilst she spent most of the time applying her make-up to look good for the judge, he was a complete mess. He couldn’t look away from his children. I felt terrible in that courtroom. But I had a job to do. I couldn’t have backed out of it if I tried.”

You shook your head, reliving the memories of that case like it was happening all over again. You dared to look up, to see disgust in Maxwell’s face but all you saw was understanding. 

“But you won the case?” Maxwell asked. You nodded.

“I had good evidence. Pictures of bruises on her arms, property damage in their shared home. Even character witnesses that painted her as the perfect wife. She was very good at playing a character. It was all lies to get her own way. I mean, who wasn’t going to believe her?”

“The press.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, moving to sit beside Maxwell when the arm became too uncomfortable, “there were a couple of journalists in particular, I can’t remember their names. They had tried to get in touch with me during the case but I ignored them, which made it look like I knew the truth and didn’t care what they had to say. As soon as the case was won, they were out for my head. They had evidence of their own, you see, that showed exactly what she was like. Paparazzi shots, secret recordings, stuff like that.”

“But you didn’t know, how was any of that your fault?”

“I won the case, everyone said I must have known. And honestly? I just didn’t bother to correct them. I felt like such a fucking idiot, Max. I should have known! So I hid myself away afterwards. My life was invaded, my career was in ruins so I hid.”

It wasn’t lost on either of you that this was the exact reaction Maxwell had to his own life being turned upside down. You shared a knowing glance, to which Maxwell reached over to place his warm hand on top of yours in comfort.

“I am sorry that happened to you,” Maxwell whispered, patting your hand before removing it, “but…” You watched as Maxwell bit his lip.

“What is it?” You frowned, not liking where this was going.Maxwell turned and offered you a sympathetic smile.

“I am sorry for what you’ve been through, truly, but how will it look if it gets out of all the people helping me… it’s you?”

You immediately felt your walls go back up, involuntarily shifting away from Maxwell on the couch.

“No one else is going to help you, are they?” It was more of a statement than a question, defensive in the face of Maxwell’s question. You felt anger rising as Maxwell continued to bite his lip and ponder what to do about the situation. You weren’t going to beg him to keep employing you, your pride wouldn’t allow that, but you weren’t going to leave without a fight either.

“You understand my predicament-“

“I understand you asked me here to listen to my side of the story, what more do you want?”

“I need somebody on my side that I can trust.”

“You can trust me!”

“I need somebody reliable, somebody who is good at their job.”

“I was brilliant at my job, it was one mistake-“

“That cost you everything!” 

Maxwell’s outburst made you leap from the couch away from him in frustration. You didn’t need to hear what you’d already told yourself hundreds of times. You knew you’d messed up, and you were here to put things right, to move on with your life. You took Maxwell’s case to help him as well as yourself, and here he was throwing it back in your face. 

“We are both in the same situation,” you replied calmly, hoping to quell the heated atmosphere, “we both need each other to pick the other up from where we’ve put ourselves. Nobody else will help you Maxwell because nobody else understands what you’re going through better than me.”

Maxwell, still seated on the far side of the couch, leaned forward, elbows on his knees, eyes to the floor as he listened to your reasoning. He couldn’t disagree, but he was also scared. All he saw when he closed his eyes was the face of his boy looking up to him, he was so scared of letting him down. 

It was so long before either of you made a noise that you decided leaving would be the best thing to do. Let Maxwell calm down and come to you when he was ready. You didn’t want to push your luck too much with him. 

As you turned to leave you passed a pile of unopened letters on a table near the front door. You hadn’t meant to look, it was a quick glance whilst you took your time to leave his apartment (a small part of you hoped he would call out your name to stop you before you reached the door). You recognised the solicitors mark on the front of the envelope and the name above it, Spencer and Brown, a family law firm that were close rivals to Myles and Cooper. 

There was only one reason a family law firm would be in contact with Maxwell, his son.

You could have left it, Maxwell didn’t trust you and you doubted he wanted you poking into his personal business, especially when it came to Alistair. But you wanted to help him. Not out of pity, or even to prove that you could, it definitely wasn’t out of desperation for employment anymore either. 

You liked Maxwell. 

It really hit you as you stood in his entryway, heart heavy with disappointment at Maxwell’s shunning of you, head aching from your argument and the prospect of going home sad and alone. It wasn’t as shocking as you thought it should be, after all what was there to like about the man who nearly destroyed the world? 

It wasn’t that Maxwell that you liked though. It was this version of him, who had been kind to you when he hadn’t known your secret. The man who loved his son and wanted to be a better role model for him. The Maxwell who could be charming but not ashamed to be vulnerable in front of you. And because it was that man you were stupidly falling for, you knew you had to at least try to persuade him to let you help him.

“Maxwell,” you called, picking up the letter and walking back to the living room where Maxwell was pouring himself a glass out of a decanter. 

“You need to go,” he didn’t sound convincing though so you held up the letter to get his attention. He raised an eyebrow, curious as to what you thought you were doing with his mail.

“I can help you,” you urged, head held high and ready to stand your ground, “I might be a terrible person but I was really brilliant at my job.”

“You’re not-“ Maxwell began, before sighing in defeat before the battle had even begun. Maxwell swallowed his drink in one go and took the letter out of your hand. You watched as he opened it and read through it half-heartedly, though you saw a spark of sadness in his eyes.

“Is it Alistair’s mother?” You asked impatiently.

“Yes. She wants full custody.”

“Okay, well considering this is very special circumstances,” Maxwell frowned, silently asking what you meant, “I don’t think anyone has fought a case on the basis of ‘my ex-husband failed on his quest for world domination’, so you can use that to your advantage.”

“Listen, I know you’re trying to help me but you can’t win this for me.” 

You ignored him and asked, “When was the last time you spoke to her?”

Maxwell paused, mulling it over before shaking his head, already knowing what you were going to suggest.

“Weeks ago, she won’t talk to me unless it’s through her lawyer.”

“Then we need to arrange a meeting. We need to show her that you’re serious about turning over a new leaf for Alistair. We can’t do that without sitting down with her.”

Maxwell didn’t look convinced, his frown creating creases on his face that made you want to smooth them away. Clearing your throat you stepped away from Maxwell, feigning deep thought. You needed to keep this professional, you reminded yourself. Otherwise you would only get your heart broken. 

“You’ll help me?” You almost didn’t hear him he spoke so quietly. You nodded, a meek smile on your lips and offered him your hand to shake, just as you had the first time you met. Maxwell huffed in amusement and took your hand, allowing his to linger in yours a little longer than necessary.

Permanent tag list: @autumnleaves1991-blog @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @galactic-rhi @phoenixhalliwell @thewayofthemandalorian @computeringturtle