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dayas · 4 years

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187 + dimya

187. “I know I kissed you before, but I didn’t do it right. Can I try again?”

Babies. Absolute babies. This was supposed to be pure but I accidentally knocked some spice in so 👀👀👀👀 Let’s get it!

—

The grand duchess Anastasia Romanov should know how to kiss by now. It’s just one of those things you know, like how to ride a bicycle or how to match your clothes. Unfortunately, her high and mighty status has robbed her of the opportunities to learn how to kiss the right way. To be clear, she’s been kissed before. A few rushed moments with a couple dukes, sloppy and stunned, overeager because of just who they were kissing. For them, it was a highlight. For her, it was yet another moment that she didn’t gain anything from an opportunity she took, save for maybe some hilarious yet embarrassing commentary from Maria when she returned to the assembly with her face flushed and lips slightly swollen.

The point is, she doesn’t know how to kiss, which is why it’s almost a relief when she sneaks out to the city and finds a club to drop into, because people are kissing everywhere. Literally everywhere. And to be honest, it’s a little much. Okay, a lot much. But it’s better than being holed up in the expansive Romanov palace. Her clothing is tight, absolutely not fit for a princess (or her family’s ideas of a princess). Instead, it speaks to her wilder side. The side that longs for freedom, for a life outside the one that’s chosen for her. Everybody thinks being a princess is a dream come true. And in some ways it is, but in other’s... it’s a nightmare. Trapped in the old ways with no choice but to adhere... that’s not the life for Anya. So she rebels from it, casts it off. It isn’t part of her when she leaves the palace walls.

She slips in nearly unnoticed, save for one stranger who’s gaze seems glued to hers. To her credit, she holds it (although she’s not really sure she can look away even if she wants to). Anya’s never been pinned by just a look before, but this is something else. Someone jostles her and the moment shatters as she ducks around the rest of them, shaking her head at herself. She’s here to have fun, and it’s about damn time that she did.

She ends up on the dance floor, right where she belongs. At balls, she always whirled around, going from suitor to suitor before leaving them all to dance with her father. He certainly wouldn’t approve of the moves she’s pulling right now, but a few likely prospects for the night seem to. None of them catch her eye, although one is brave enough to paw at her waist.

“Hey,” he says, wearing a sleazy grin and she moves away immediately, tensing up. A terse, “Hi,” leaves her lips, but apparently the guy is bad at reading signs because he moves closer.

“Where you goin’? Come dance with me.”

Anya can already see this unfolding and she doesn’t like the outcome, so she thinks up the quickest lie that comes to her tongue.

“I’m waiting for my boyfriend.”

Nice going, Anya. Might as well tell him you’re the Grand Duchess while you’re at it.

“Hey, is this guy bothering you?”

The new voice in the mix is the stranger from earlier. Up close, she understands why she was so mesmerized. He’s gorgeous. The harsh lighting of the club dulls his features a bit, but they’re strong. Dark hair swooped back, a broader build, quite taller than her.

“Nah, we’re just talking,” the other guy responds, and Anya wants to roll her eyes.

“Yes, babe, he is,” she pouts, leaning against him and putting her head on his chest. His eyes widen in minor confusion but her tell him to just go with it. Thankfully he does, wrapping a protective arm around her waist and glaring daggers that look a little too pointed to be entirely fake at the skeeze in front of them.

She can’t explain what comes over her in the moment, but she tells herself it’s for the act. “Babe,” Anya murmurs (mostly because she doesn’t even know his name, which she would use to make this look more real but it’s all she’s got), “thank you for coming back so quickly.” Anya doesn’t give herself time to think, merely leans up and kisses him. It catches them both off guard, but it’s quick so he doesn’t have a chance to kiss her back. And she feels a little bad about it (she’s not the type to go around kissing strangers! Unless they’re super hot, she’s super drunk, and both of them are cool with it), but it’s the lesser of two evils here. His grip on her waist had tightened in that tiny window of time, and he doesn’t relinquish it as he mumbles, “No problem,” to her with a smile that makes her heart beat in a few places she’d rather think about later in her bed. The stranger returns his attention to the guy who is still watching them and growls, “Leave her alone.”

Anya feels a strange flutter in her stomach intensify.

“Oh come on,” the other guy says, reaching out and grabbing her wrist tightly, “We were just talking.” Her instincts kick in, a few years of training for self defense with the guards. She’s done with the audacity, and after the couple of drinks she’s had, she’s a little looser than normal. So Anya cocks her arm back, hand curling into a fist, and punches the sleazy guy across from them right in the nose.

“Ow! Crazy bitch!” He yells, staggering back and Anya jumps into gear, grabbing the hot stranger’s hand and running through the club. Oddly enough, he runs with her, and they escape, spilling out onto the street. They don’t stop running until they reach a park about a mile away, laughing at nothing and completely out of breath. Anya’s hands go to her knees as she tries to inhale and exhale, and the stranger leans against a lamppost as he recovers.

“Where did you learn to punch like that?” He’s impressed, maybe even a little turned on. (At least, she that’s how she hopes he feels). She shrugs.

“You don’t grow up like I do and not know how to defend yourself.”

It sounds sadder and more serious than it is, and concern flickers in his eyes but she physically waves it off in hopes of avoiding further probing or suspicion. She winces, curling her fingers gently. Now that the adrenaline of the chase has worn off, her hand stings.

“Can I see?” He asks.

“Only if you tell me your name,” she answers, and he laughs.

“Dmitry.” Russian. She ignores the little part of her brain that’s happy to have found someone who shares a heritage with her, and the part that figures her family would enjoy that particular fact.

“Anya.” His hands probe around gently, brushing along her skin. They’re cold, but every place he touches erupts in flame, as though she’s thrust certain points into a fire. The constellation pattern of his movements leads to the conclusion that, “It’s not broken,” which makes her sag a little in relief. Explaining how she broke her hand to her family would cause even more trouble than explaining why she was out.

“Thank you,” she says, soft as the light above them. She can see him clearer now, haloed in the glow from the street lamp.

“You’re welcome.”

He hasn’t let go of her hand. He realizes he hasn’t let go of her hand at the same time she does and they both drop away at the same time, awkwardly avoiding each other’s gazes.

After some time, he says, “Well... it was nice meeting you, Anya. Don’t expect too much of your future fake boyfriends, though; it’ll be a hard comparison.”

The cheekiness of his grin lights her up, so she rolls her eyes to hide it. Still, decorum goes out the window when he turns to leave and she says, “Wait!” Her hand shoots out, capturing his wrist. Unlike the man who grabbed her earlier, she’s careful. He can pull away anytime he wants.

He doesn’t.

She clears her throat, steeling herself, and says, “I know I kissed you before, but I didn’t do it right. Can I try again?”

His face is slightly incredulous but he grins, nodding. She grins in return, placing a hand against his cheek and pulling him down to meet her lips.

This is it, she thinks as his hands fit themselves to her hips, gripping lightly, this is what a kiss is supposed to feel like.

Finally.

Anya’s a quick study, and she picks up on his tricks fast. She may not do extremely well with memorizing dates or words on paper, but when it comes to actions, she can mimic and absorb insanely fast. She lets him in when his tongue slips, giggling slightly into the kiss. His chest rumbles against hers with laughter, but it’s serious business again when she leans into him a little more and bites his lip.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” She asks, breathless, barely able to speak over the wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, her brain keeps repeating.

“A little eager there, Anya,” Dmitry teases, and she pulls away, crossing her arms and arching her eyebrows up at him.

“Let me rephrase then. Take me out of here.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. She’s used to getting what she wants and all she wants is him. She tends to demand things when they’re really important to her, because she doesn’t want to risk the chance of losing them. Of course, if this isn’t what he wants, she’ll be on her merry way. But thankfully for them both, he’s all in.

“Dmitry,” Anya says, laid back in his bed, holding onto his hair because his lips are short circuiting her brain again due to their placement on her neck, “I haven’t done this before.”

She expects another cheeky comment, but all he does is stop, moving his head so he can see her.

“Do you want to?” He asks, and it’s the best thing he could’ve said. She can tell he’s genuine, and she winds her fingers with his.

“Yes,” she whispers, and she means it. He checks on her the entire time, discovering what she likes and what she doesn’t. She, in return, picks up on what he likes as well. And it is so much better than what she thought this would be. Not because it’s him, but because it’s her. She revels in the feelings as they hit her, in every single imprint of his hand on her body.

His head is on her shoulder when they’re done, butterfly kisses ghosting across her skin. She smiles in secret, holding onto one of his hands underneath the covers. When she goes home, she will have to face the music of being out all night. Her parents’ disappointment, her siblings’ worries. She puts it out of her mind to lay there with him instead, worryless.

One night stands are not supposed to feel like that. She’s not supposed to want to stay. But she does. She does.

The grand duchess Anastasia Romanov does not know how to kiss. But Anya does. She can’t forget the feeling, the taste, every single sensation. Dmitry’s light snoring draws a quiet laugh from her, and she burrows down deeper against his side. Tomorrow she can work everything out. But tonight, she sleeps beside a man she’s just met, and yet knows without a doubt that she wants to see again.

In short, she’s screwed.

She falls asleep beaming.

—

That’s all for this ask! Thanks for asking!

#dimya #anya x dmitry #dmitry sudayev #anya romanov #anastasia romanov #anastasia broadway #anastasia musical #anastasia the musical #dimya fic #k chats #k answers #asks #prompts

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justforbooks · 4 years

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Michel Piccoli obituary

Stalwart of French cinema whose prolific career included films with Luis Buñuel, Jean-Luc Godard and Claude Chabrol

By Ronald Bergan

For more than half a century, there seemed to be one constant in French cinema – the actor Michel Piccoli. With his death at the age of 94 something vital has disappeared from the screen.

Never young looking – he was prematurely bald – Piccoli grew in maturity and power over the years, with directors such as Luis Buñuel, Jean-Luc Godard, Claude Chabrol, Marco Ferreri and Claude Sautet seeking his services more than once. He also worked for directors of the stature of Alfred Hitchcock, Henri-Georges Clouzot, Jacques Rivette, Costa-Gavras and Louis Malle.

Even when he was a big name, Piccoli was never too proud to play small supporting roles or even bit parts if he liked the screenplay. But whatever the size of the role, whether playing a goody or a baddie, Piccoli would bring to the character a gravitas (with a tinge of humour) and an ironic detachment, simultaneously revealing a real, recognisable human being beneath the surface.

Piccoli was born in Paris to a French mother and an Italian father, both of them musicians – his mother was a pianist; his father a violinist. At 19, he made his screen debut in a walk-on part in Sortilèges (1945), directed by Christian-Jaque.

After several roles in the cinema and theatre, he met Buñuel. “I wrote to this famous director asking him to come and see me in a play. Me, an obscure actor! It was the cheek of a young man. He came and we became friends.” Piccoli appeared in six of Buñuel’s films, usually cast as a silky, authoritarian figure.

His first performance for Buñuel was as a weak, compromised priest trekking through the Brazilian jungle in La Mort en Ce Jardin (Death in the Garden/Evil Eden, 1956). In Diary of a Chambermaid (1964), he was the idle and lecherous Monsieur Monteil, sexually obsessed with Jeanne Moreau as the maid Célestine.

Just as louche was his smooth bourgeois gentleman who persuades a respectable doctor’s wife (Catherine Deneuve) to spend her afternoons working in a high-class brothel with kinky clients in Belle de Jour (1967). Piccoli reprised the role charmingly almost 40 years later in Manoel de Oliveira’s Belle Toujours (2006).

He was discreetly charming as the Marquis de Sade in Buñuel’s La Voie Lactée (The Milky Way, 1969), subtly overbearing as the home secretary in The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie (1972) and sinister as a prefect of police in Buñuel’s penultimate film, Le Fantôme de la Liberté (The Phantom of Liberty, 1974).

In the 1950s, apart from his one film with Buñuel and his appearance as María Félix’s jealous lover in Jean Renoir’s French Cancan, Piccoli was cast mainly in run-of-the mill “policiers”. During this period, Piccoli was part of the Saint-Germain-des-Prés set in Paris, which included the writers Boris Vian, Jean-Paul Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir, and the café singer Juliette Gréco, to whom he was married from 1966 to 1977. He was also an active member of the French Communist party.

The 60s was his most creatively exciting and varied decade. His first leading role (with Serge Reggiani and Jean-Paul Belmondo) was as an unscrupulous gangster in Jean-Pierre Melville’s Le Doulos (The Finger Man, 1962).

This led to one of his best remembered parts, as Brigitte Bardot’s husband in Godard’s Le Mépris (Contempt, 1963), in which he plays a screenwriter, willing to sell his wife to a producer (Jack Palance) in order to get his script filmed by Fritz Lang. In a homage to Dean Martin’s character in Vincente Minnelli’s Some Came Running, Piccoli wears a cowboy hat in the bath.

As memorable as this image was the name of the character he played in Jacques Demy’s Les Demoiselles de Rochefort (The Young Girls of Rochefort, 1967). As Simon Dame, he is continually being greeted as Monsieur Dame (a joke that works only in French), and is rebuffed by Danielle Darrieux, who cannot bear the thought of being called Madame Dame.

It was in 1968 that Piccoli met Ferreri, who starred him in Dillinger È Morto (Dillinger Is Dead), a bleak study of alienation, in which a man’s life is laid bare. Piccoli is brilliant as an industrial designer who, while spending an evening at home, making himself a meal, watching TV and seducing the maid, decides to kill his wife and go to Tahiti.

It was the first of seven films the actor made for the Italian-born director, the most infamous being La Grande Bouffe (Blow Out, 1973), an excessive film about excess, where Piccoli as a TV personality, along with a pilot, a judge and a chef, all bored with life, literally eat themselves to death.

Piccoli’s few roles in English language films were less than challenging: they included his secret agent in Hitchcock’s Topaz (1969) and the suave card dealer in Malle’s Atlantic City (1981).

He was much happier in France, where his talents were not only respected but revered. His several films for Sautet showed him as a complex and flawed hero, starting with Les Choses de la Vie (The Things of Life, 1970), in which he played a man who, although having an affair, finds himself still attached to his estranged wife, his son and friends, and consequently unable to make the absolute commitment his lover requires.

In 1973, Piccoli formed a production company which kicked off with that year’s Themroc, directed by Claude Faraldo, in which he played a factory worker, living in a squalid flat with his mother and sister, pursuing an existence of repetitive routine and urban grind, before he rebels. What made this biting social satire particularly unusual was that language was abandoned completely, with the characters having to communicate in a series of formless noises, something Piccoli does particularly effectively.

Piccoli then returned to his speciality – the urbane bourgeois – in Chabrol’s blackly comic Les Noces Rouges (Blood Wedding, 1973), where he played a mayor’s deputy having an affair with his boss’s wife. In Godard’s Passion (1982), he was a factory owner whose wife is having an affair with a film director.

He gave three of his largest and most impressive performances in his late 60s and 70s. In Malle’s Milou en Mai (Milou in May, 1990), he is the ideal repository of all the director’s sympathies, the upholder of the best of traditional country values, unambitious, unacquisitive and a lover of nature, in contrast to his greedy middle-class family gathered for a funeral.

Rivette’s La Belle Noiseuse (1991) cast him magisterially as a famous artist trying to capture a new nude young model on canvas. In Oliveira’s Je Rentre à la Maison (I’m Going Home, 2001), Piccoli struck a personal and poignant note as an actor trying to deal with old age, and refusing to compromise his principles.

He shone in what amounted to almost a cameo as the courtly but bumbling elderly relative of the Duchess of Langeais (Jeanne Balibar) in Rivette’s Ne Touchez Pas la Hache (Don’t Touch the Axe, 2007), a version of Balzac’s novel on erotic obsession.

For the English language The Dust of Time (2008), Theo Angelopoulos’s last film, Piccoli joined such stalwarts of European art cinema as Bruno Ganz and Irène Jacob in a love triangle that covers the latter part of the 20th century. Despite some of the stilted dialogue, Piccoli bares the soul of a character whose sufferings include his internment and escape from a gulag.

He dominated every moment as a reserved and modest cardinal who panics when elected pontiff in Nanni Moretti’s semi-satire Habemus Papam (We Have a Pope, 2011). The first close-ups of him, when he realises he has been appointed the new pope, suggest, with subtle expressions, emotions ranging from surprise, humility, ambivalence, excitement and then horror.

In Vous N’avez Encore Rien Vu (You Ain’t Seen Nothin’ Yet, 2012), Alain Resnais’ intriguing, self-reflective examination of actors and acting, film and theatre, Piccoli, playing himself, is the doyen in a cast of leading French actors of the day.

He directed the features Alors Voilà (1997) and La Plage Noire (The Black Beach, 2001), the former winning the Critics’ prize at Venice, to add to the many prizes he had won as an actor. It was appropriate that when Agnès Varda filmed One Hundred and One Nights for the centenary of the cinema in 1995, she cast Piccoli as Monsieur Cinema.

He was married three times. His first two marriages, to Eléonore Hirt and to Gréco, ended in divorce. He is survived by his third wife, the screenwriter Ludivine Clerc, whom he married in 1978, and by his daughter, Anne-Cordélia, from his first marriage.

• Michel Piccoli, actor, born 27 December 1925; died 12 May 2020

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#JUST FOR BOOKS #Michel Piccoli

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knightthunderis · 4 years

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Once Upon A Time

Have you ever had one of those days when your past and present lives end up colliding and intertwining somewhere along the way? I know it may sound crazy but hear me out. I guess to fully understand how crazy things can get when your true love and soulmate are involved is to start at the beginning. We all have three personalities, our royal form which in his case is Karyson Gabriel Wolfe of Thaddea, his human and present form Tristan Michael Llewellyn, and his hero form Knight Wolf. But somehow his royal side got separated from the other two parts of his personality and landed back in Thaddea with no memories of our past together. This is the story of how through a crazy case of mistaken identity, lies, deceit, rivals, hidden agendas, conspiracy, invasion of privacy, blackmail, and manipulation my true love and I as Reimeiko Thunderis made it back to each other and full circle. I am known as Reimeiko Christyne Amaryllis Thunderis Wolfe by royal standards, Queen of Thunderia and Thaddea thanks to my getting married to Karyson before the last battle with Darcien’s forces. My father, his Knights and fellow royals had to use their combined powers to send us here to be reborn and find each other again. The problem was none of us had any memory of our pasts until our respective guardians found us and reunited us. But that is another story for another time. Anyway, when we were all reborn here, I was born Jamison Logan McKagan the eldest daughter of Robert and Veronica McKagan also known as Thor and Kyiandra Thunderis of Thunderia. But you already know that, if you know my story. Anyway, I am getting outrageously off track. But when this all started, I had no doubt how it would end because of Karyson and our past together. But boy was I wrong. I had never felt so betrayed in my life. How I came into this as Reimeiko Thunderis instead of who I am in the human form? Well I will tell you. It all starts here at the Coronation Ball. On this night, not only will Garyson be taking his place as king, but he will also be choosing his future bride. At the doors of the grand ballroom stood Jamison Logan McKagan Llewellyn also known as Reimeiko Christyne Amaryllis Thunderis Wolfe of Thunderia and Thaddea. The Lady Knight of Thunder was getting ready to make a grand entrance. Tonight was the night for her. As she entered the ballroom, the herald announced her.

"Lady Reimeiko Christyne Thunderis." the herald announced. She walked further into the ballroom spotting her friends and Knights from back home as well as some of the friends she had made along the way or so she thought. Her brother and sister in their Knight forms showed up close to her speaking telepathically.

(I know that the connection between Karyson and Reimeiko is solid.) Knight Shadow said. (But you might want to take the connection between Jamison McKagan and Tristan Llewellyn into consideration.)

(Tristan is Karyson’s human form though, remember brother?) Knight Nova replied. (They were separated into their own individual personas somehow and we must figure out how to reunite them, but now is not the time. The Knights are all stationed throughout the palace grounds, fully powered but dressed for this ball.)

(Do you not think that you are overdoing it just a bit?) She asked. (How are all the background checks into the key players going? One cannot know how to play the game without a scorecard and details on everyone involved especially who gains and loses the most. There are a lot of secrets here and I want to know all of it. Not just the key players but the background players too. Leave no stone unturned, leave no passage unexplored. We had orders to do that before we left.)

(Our wisdom knights are taking care of that and have been since before Dad debriefed us.) Shadow replied. (Anyway, we will keep in close contact with you as the night progresses)

Shadow and Nova made their way into the crowd to check in with the other Knights as Jamison glided over to talk to two other suitors in the competition. For some reason, she suddenly felt uneasy, why, she did not know. Granted, she had seen and dealt with her share of evil tyrants, love rivals, band rivals, and threatened hostile takeovers, but she and her Knights had always made it through almost unscathed.

“Reimeiko, you look so beautiful.” Elenia Zhang gushed. “The prince will not be able to take his eyes off of you all night in that gown.” Jamison drifted back and forth between the first debriefing and present day.

“First off we have Elenia Zhang.” Marco said. “There is not much known about her and her family except that they are Thaddean nobles who live outside the typical line. In addition to being a Thaddean noble, Elenia is multi-talented which will be one of her strengths and make her a good ally as well. Knowing you Jamie, you would have her and everyone else won over in no time.”

“Hah, he might like the way she looks,” Lamani Evander sneered. “But when it comes to choosing his future queen, he knows who will be able to rule by his side and that woman will be me and me alone.” Back to the debriefing.

Lamani Evander, she was so evil that she made Dariana Lanoson look and act like an angel, but even though she could scare or intimidate others, she did not scare or intimidate Jamison or Reimeiko. Long before, Jamison had faced off with the Federation of Evil’s many different factors, love rivals, rival bands, threatened hostile take-overs and she knew how to fight dirty if she had to. In her royal form of Reimeiko Thunderis, she fought like a man although she was a woman. Along with her siblings and fellow Knights, she trained from the time she was young to be able to take down and fight the forces of evil who continued relentlessly to take them down and take over the universe. Reimeiko and Jamison were rejoined or reunited when Jamison was fifteen and was discovered being Princess Reimeiko Thunderis while in her hero form of Knight Thunder and her boyfriend Tristan Llewellyn in his hero form of Knight Wolf was discovered as being Prince Karyson Wolfe of Thaddea which was who Jamison and the others were vying for. She knew something about Karyson, his true siblings Corydon and Racine, and Samuel and Francine that the other people present did not know. Samuel, Francine, and the Thaddean Trio were immortal like Reimeiko, her siblings, and Knights; and no matter what the other ladies of court thought, Karyson was Reimeiko’s eternal soulmate.

“Well I can say this without any conviction.” Jamison said. “It will be his choice who rules by his side not yours, and may the best woman win.” To herself she said. “I know it will be me because I have been to the future, I am the Queen in it and none of you are there.”

“I am sure that I will win because I have known him all his life.” Lamani replied.

Jamison rolled her eyes and shook her head as Lamani walked away. The only other woman in the running so-to-speak was a woman by the name of Almeda Fitzgerald who was being sponsored by the present queen Alyssa Candelaria. No one had really seen her through the competition because she had been staying close to the queen. Just then a trumpet sounded, and a herald announced the arrival of Karyson Tristan Michael Llewellyn Wolfe Prince of Thaddea and he was heading right in the direction of Jamison and Elenia. He took her hand and bowed. “Princess Reimeiko, may I have the pleasure of the next dance with you?” Prince Karyson asked.

“You want to dance with me?” Jamison asked. “I am ready to do much more than just dance with you, but I would love to.”

“I was hoping you would say that.” Karyson replied. He took her hand and whisked her away to the dance floor of the grand ballroom. As the orchestra plays, he leads her into a waltz around the room her gown swirling as they glide through the steps.

“To think a few months ago as Jamison McKagan,” Jamison acknowledged. “I did not even know the first steps to the waltz.”

“And now no one would ever know that your human form was not born into this life.” Karyson replied. “I hope you never have cause to regret coming here.”

“What do you mean? Why would you say that?” Jamison asked. “You and Tristan will be reunited before this crazy adventure is over, then so will we be.”

“So much has happened.” he said pausing as the song winds, his hands lingering on her waist and his eyes searched hers which were filled with uncertainty, fear, and confusion. “I need to speak with you.”

“Is something wrong?” Jamison asked, fearful of what the answer would be. Despite the soulmate connection between them, she knew that something was not right.

“There is nothing really wrong per se.” he replied. “It has been nearly impossible to even get a moment alone with you these last few days, but I need to know--”

“Prince Garyson, may I be so bold as to cut in?” Duchess Lamani Evander asked.

“Oh yes of course.” Karyson replied. “Do not worry, Reimeiko, we will talk later.”

[Yeah right] Jamison thought sourly. As Lamani and Karyson glided away, Jamison found herself wandering off the dance floor and running into a familiar face in the crowd. “Derrick? I did not know that you would be here tonight. You look so handsome in your formal uniform instead of your usual mix of clothes.”

“Karyson insisted.” Derrick replied. “I guess I should congratulate you. You look exactly like one of them. I guess you are one of them now in these days.”

“Please do not lump me in with those two-faced, hypocritical, narcissistic fleet of bozos and bimbos.” Jamison pleaded. “Real people like you are more fun to be around. You and I are cut from the same cloth. We do not fit into their world of snobby losers and I thank God that we do not.”

“This time tomorrow, you might be queen and then our lives are going to go in very different directions.” he said.

“If I am chosen to be his bride, but I have a sick feeling that I will not be,” Jamison said. “I will still be me. Titles do not make me who I am or who I will be. Nothing will take me over.”

“Looking at you right now, it is hard to believe that.” Derrick said with a sad look. “This place has a tendency of changing people, and some of us like the woman you used to be. You know, that right?”

“I promise, I am the same person I was from the beginning, even under this fancy, hard to breathe in a ball gown.” Jamison replied. “Despite everything that has happened, I have not changed. I am the same Reimeiko Christyne Amaryllis Thunderis, Jamison Logan McKagan Llewellyn. If there is ever a time you feel that I get too cocky, just remind me of the first time we met, I was taking out the garbage to the big dumpster outside and waiting tables at Russo’s bar and grill.”

“It does feel like it was so long ago.” Derrick acknowledged. “I cannot believe that it has only been a few months since this all began, and it feels more like once upon a time now more than ever after everything.”

#kingliam2019 #texaskitten30 laimtruelovealways #cordonianroyalty #trr knightthunderchronicles

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jxndds · 4 years

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historical/fantasy manhwas

A Capable Maid

The useless maid, Marie, has never been able to do anything correctly. But, after caring for a dying prisoner, she becomes a person she had always wanted to be. This is the start of the capable maid, Marie.

Amina of the Lamp

On the day of the Wizarding City Paz's destruction, Amina got stuck inside a lamp while trying to turn back time.

And 300 years later, she was awakened by a military commander, Jakal.

“I do not have any wishes for you to grant”

Well, I just want to hurry and grant a wish so I can go back, Who the hell is this guy?

Beware of the Brothers

Hari, a destitute girl, got adopted by Duke Ernst at 7 years old when she lost her mother, as the Ernsts had themselves lost their youngest daughter Arina and sought Hari due to her resemblance to the late girl. Even though she received all kinds of persecution by the three Ernst sons in 20 years of life at the Ernst estate, she could finally escape that blood-and-tear inducing life when she was about to get married.

But what is this?

When I woke up from my sleep, I'm back to that hellish childhood! Is this a dream?!

Hmph. If I can't wake up from this dream, I'll at least live without too much consideration for others now!

Just like that, Hari decided to go astray. Eugene, the "dutiful son" but cold, Cabel, the roughhousing knucklehead, and Erich, the angelic-looking bully and Arina's twin, all three be damned!

Contract Concubine

One day, Yesuh, a famous assassin, receives a strange request from a suspicious man. She's never received such a ridiculous request before, but after hearing how much the odd man was willing to pay, she decides to bite the bullet and take on the request.

However, upon starting the mission, Yesuh is shocked to find out that her suspicious employer is actually--?!

Ebony

“Be quiet. Shut up and live like the dead”

Ebony Vonieck is a convicted felon for the murder of her fiance and father. While waiting for her execution in prison, she is suddenly released from her hell when she is informed that the Archduke of Schneider Castle is waiting for her. Expecting her life to become a living hell, what awaits her instead is a household of warm employees and servants. Ebony has no idea that the Archduke will help change her life.

I'm Stanning The Prince

Angela's fanfic became such a sensation that it even reached the Imperial Family, leading her to get arrested on charges of treason.

Nevertheless, her fanfic improved the First Prince's image, and his sister, the Princess, decides to take political advantage of this and keep Angela by their side.

I Want To Be You, Just For A Day

The count's daughter, Psyche, is loved by all. Psyche, who took everything from me. Psyche, who always gets what she wants. I wanted to be her, even if just for a day.

Lady Baby

Young lady Calliope has suffered through nature's law and many accidents. Her family was decimated by ruin and an ongoing war, but upon listening to her melancholic singing upon the family's graveyard, a mysterious womanly figure tells her that she'll reward her for the beautiful song, and shrouds Calliope in darkness. Upon awakening, Calliope finds that she traveled back in time to when she was born! While Calliope slowly grows, will she be able to figure out who killed her family and stop them in time?

Lady Beast

Elisa, Princess of the Kingdom of Grandia, only purpose in life was to survive. She got married to Ginger, the Duke of Gwen, who is called the crazy mutt of Randall. She expected to be loved, but he didn’t care for her one bit. Then one day, the curse began. “This menstruation cycle is driving me crazy,” exclaimed Ginger in Elisa’s body.” Elisa blushing at Ginger’s words replies, “I’m also very troubled by ‘that’ thing I have to do every morning.” The curse of the devil had switched Elisa and her husband’s body! Will they be able to switch back?

Living as an Emperor's Fiancée

Adel, who entered the emperor's office due to the magic of the imperial magic, accidentally hears the secret plan of the emperor.

'Emperor' 'fiance' 'fake' 'killing' ... the interior minister and the emperor who came to Adele when he came back to school and took his breath away.

"I want to give you a chance to choose." "...chance?" "Go to prison ... be my fiancée!"

The beginning of the fateful love of the orphaned girl Adele and the emperor of Krishi.

Revenge Wedding

Meridian Sasha is the perfect woman who has the beauty, wealth, and status. She fainted and woke up on a ship in the middle of the ocean, with a wedding dress on. I got married?

"Who dares to try and touch Meridian Sasha? I'll make sure that he'll never want to marry me!"

The Evil Lady Will Change

Athanasia Cloix, a woman whose elegance and beauty is akin to that of a swan lake, was the Duke’s eldest daughter and the Queen of the social circles: an existence near to perfection. Due to some rumors, however, people began to misunderstand and belittle her. As she suffered through these unfortunate events, she learned to conceal her feelings by putting on a façade and agreed to a political marriage with the Winter-comer who's also known as the “Northern Monster”.

"As the Grand Duke, I will do my best to accommodate your needs and desires. But love alone is something I can't give to you." Unbeknownst to her, that very man will change her life and thus a new fate is about to unfold.

The Black-Haired Princess

The Crown Prince of the Murian Empire, Karyuel, and the Princess of the Carna Empire, Yurishien, despise their political marriage and dream of getting a divorce. To make matters worse, the people around them begin devising all sorts of schemes to split them up, and as they overcome the obstacles together, they become drawn to each other, despite their initial thoughts. Will these two immature birds be able to divorce as they had planned or will there be a different outcome…?

The Monster Duchess and Contract Princess

Leslie’s life as the youngest daughter of the Sperado noble family was always used for the betterment of her sister, Eli, who is betrothed to the Crown Prince of the kingdom. After a failed attempt to extract the black magic within Leslie by sacrificing her to transfer it to Eli, Leslie knocks on the door of the monster Duchess Salvatore and, battered, bruised and desperate, pleads for the Duchess to adopt her?!

The Villainess Lives Twice

“Tia, your brother has to do well for you to do well.” By committing all sorts of evil acts, she made her brother the emperor. But her dedication was rewarded with betrayal. At the brink of death, the one who extended a helping hand was her arch nemesis, the righteous Grand Duke Cedric. "Devise a plan I can't think of anyone else who could turn the tables in this situation, Lady Rozan. Lend me your strength." It wasn't possible to restore the balance of power for an empire that was already falling into ruin, but there was a way... to turn back time before everything went wrong. With her blood and tears, she sacrifices her own body to cast ancient magic in order to turn back time. This time, she wouldn't fail.

Returning back to her 18-year-old self, Artezia resolves to become the villainess for Grand Duke Cedric. "Please ask for my hand in marriage. I will make you the Emperor."

The Villainess Reverses the Hourglass

With the marriage of her prostitute mother to the Count, Aria’s status in society skyrocketed immediately. After leading a life of luxury, Aria unfairly meets death because of her sister Mielle’s schemes. And right before she dies, she sees an hourglass fall as if it were a fantasy. And just like that, she was miraculously brought back to the past.

Virtues of the Villainess

Ginger Torte and Lerajie Atlanta, both noble daughters of marquesses, are lifelong enemies and rivals. When Ginger’s fiance, Kishon Mickelson, is stolen by Lerajie, Ginger decides she’s had enough!

But one day, Ginger stumbles upon a strange novel - one where Lerajie is the main protagonist, and she is the villainess! She tries her best to ignore it, but when things start playing out just as written in the story, she has no choice but to rely on the novel to change her doomed future as the villainess.

“Exactly what did I do to deserve this fate?! Why did I have to become the villainess?”

Enter the mysterious Prince Izana, the male lead of the novel. Confined within the depths of the Templar Tower for years by King Astor, he finally sees the light of day when his father passes away. But according to the novel, he’s destined to fall in love with Lerajie, leaving Ginger to wallow in her own misery!

“All I ever did was live life as best I could! But as if stealing my fiance wasn’t enough, now Lerajie is going to claim the male lead?! No way I’ll let that happen!”

The “villainess” Ginger, who now knows Prince Izana’s deepest secret (thanks to the novel), attempts to seduce him with -2% cautiousness and 200% cuteness!

Wendy the Florist

Wendy is a reclusive florist who doesn’t believe in love. That is until he came in, ready to destroy the walls caging her heart.

Why Are You Doing This, Duke?

"My sweet songbird-- my eternal love--

Don't make such a sad face.

When my little songbird gets sad, it feels like my entire world is raining."

The duke known to many as the grim reaper, "Rowan Peruka".

He, the very person who was about to chop off my head last month, managed to become my husband?! He took me in not as a second or third wife, but as a first one at that?!!

I'd love it if this was true love, but this is all thanks to a mysterious magic spell. And the magic spell's power's been weakening to boot--!

A marriage with a bipolar(?) husband where your own life is at stake, <Why are you doing this, Duke?>

#isekai manhwa lightnovel fantasy magic romance

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kuningannasansa · 5 years

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A musketeers rewatch (that nobody asked for) 1x04

(warning: not always complimentary towards all characters, especially not aramis, anne and athos. dont like, don’t read)

We start with Louis being a prat and in this instance I love it!

Richelieu is wearing his red robes over the hideous black outfit. I wish it was just the robes.

Athos wonders what’s wrong with Aramis and Porthos says “have you forgotten about the massacre at Savoy?”. This is clumsy exposition. Realistically Athos the character would not have forgotten but I guess the viewers need to know.

“A strategically important pimple” - Lmao! Who says Armand hasn’t got a sense of humour!

This marks the beginning of these strangely depopulated court scenes. I do wish they had been able to afford more extras!

The Duke’s name is Victor... idk how I feel about that

The conversation between Marsac and Aramis is very well written, the exposition feels natural and also Aramis handles the situation quite well.

Now the Duke is mad and everyone is trying to calm him down. Treville points out that they should wait for the facts and Anne says that the shot could have hit any one of them, they are family and should stick together. This is why I liked her back in season 1! She was clever, had some political acumen and was good at playing her role as queen (women being seen as the gentler sex whose job it was to calm mens anger) while still maneuvering and getting her own way.

It is funny thou, how everyone else is making good points and Richelieu is pacing around in a panic not saying anything at first, not even responding to Victor’s insults. And when he does speak he miscalculates and angers the duke. He is brilliant when given time to think and consider, but not always quick on his feet lol (as pointed out by @tatzelwyrm in her wonderful fic Reformation, which I really must remember to review cause I fucking loved it).

Louis calls the duke a pomous arse and Richelieu points out that France needs Savoy, but his face says he agrees xD

There’s definitely some sexual tension between Aramis and Marsac. Or maybe I’m just a shameless slasher...

“If this gets me hanged, I’m going to take it very personally” - lol, I do love musketeers humour!

The scene between my dear grand deceiver and his bluff honest man of action is SO GOOD!! The dialogue, the delivery, the acting in general!

Richelieu’s room is ridiculously large and empty thou xD

“Death in battle is one thing, but your world of back alley stabbings and murder disgusts me” - that seems to be the show’s morality in a nutshell and I don’t like it. Whether you’re killed by Milady’s dagger between the ribs or a musketeer sword, you end up no less dead. Sometimes secret assassinations are necessary, that’s why countries have spy agencies. And while yes, in battle you can see your opponent coming and have a good chance to deny him, I am convinced that a big part of why killing in battle is seen as more honourable is that it is the more traditionally masculine option. Also, it is an option most easily accessible to able bodied men. Everyone else can’t always afford to “fight fair”.

“Not everything I do is pleasant, but it is all necessary.” - well, that’s not true either. Not all.

Richelieu panics again and wants to move the prisoner but Treville says a transfer would only attract attention and Richelieu is like “yeah, you’re probably right” lol. Poor cardinal, he’s trying to run the whole country alone but he needs advisors just like anyone else would to make the best decisions. If he would just admit it, his life would be a lot easier!

Dartagnan gets all jealous and territorial over Constance. I know it’s meant to indicate their true love, but I’ve never found that shit charming.

Aramis ties Marsac up. This is making me horny now.

“I’ve thought of you many times” - omg, I gotta see if there’s fic of them!

Constance finds out that Marsac is a criminal and instead of kicking him out, she kicks D’artagnan out! Bless!

Okay, so the Duke’s men killed the 20 musketeers because the Duke thought that they had come to kill him and put his son on the throne. And Treville told him where to find them through Cluzet (spl?). But actually it was all a distraction to kidnap Cluzet. Noting this down, cause I don’t remember the plot anymore.

PORTHOS DEFENDING TREVILLE!! <3

And Richelieu just couldn’t resist going to see his prisoner!

And Cluzet worked for the Duke officially but was actually a Spanish spy! Okay, that makes sense. I wondered why they kidnapped him lol.

Richelieu is gloating now. He should have stayed away from there.

“Total solitude, unlimited time to reflect... I almost envy you.” - oh Armand! You will learn in the Spanish prison :(

(yes, in this house the Spanish prison AU is canon)

Porthos: “this is the captain we’re talking about” Aramis: “which is why we owe it to him to clear his name” - damn, that’s a good argument! I like Aramis in this episode! That’s probably why I remember liking him a lot when season 1 first aired...

“If it is true, what then?” - @donnaimmaculata made an excellent point about that here: https://donnaimmaculata.tumblr.com/post/109300936446/aramis-was-actually-at-his-smartest-in-this

Louis playing swords with Louis Amadeus is so cute!! And the kid is a more gracious loser than Louis is a winner xD

“I don’t want protection, I want to be treated as an equal.” - that’s a good Constance line, much more feminist than that nonsense about the duchess later in the episode

And D'artagnan apologizes and promises not to lie to her again. Mentioning that cause his respect for her boundaries and acknowledging when he makes a mistake goes totally out the window in season two.

The duke: “Have you captured the man who tried to kill me?” Richelieu: “We should not be distracted by minor issues.” - what is wrong with him this episode?? he is not being at all diplomatic

The duke challenges Athos to a duel and Treville is so cool and quietly confident while Richelieu frets.

And Treville smirks at his evident distress xD

Treville gets mad at Athos for humiliating the duke. He could have defeated him in a way that left him his dignity, apparently. But Porthos says he would have cut his head off, so Treville should consider himself lucky, really.

Porthos is very good at spying!

Treville’s filing of documents is “meticulous”, apparently. Sorry, but that does NOT sound like him!

“I will never believe the captain is a traitor” - that’s noble of you Athos. Maybe you could have extended the same courtesy to your wife?

The confrontation with Treville is so angsty and well acted and tense! This is the show at it’s best, dealing with a serious issue and giving it the weight it deserves. I love!

It’s kind of sad seeing how in love the duke is with his wife! I hope he never finds out she’s a spy lol xD

Now Marsac tries to rape Constance. Was that really necessary? Like, really, why?? We understand he is an antagonist, there is no need to make him cartoonishly evil, especially by using violence against women.

I don’t know what his friend being a seezy rapist says about Aramis thou...

Dart to the rescue, yawn!

I do love how we are led to believe they’re gonna kiss and then she goes “teach me how to shoot” xD

“Honour? There’s no word in the language more likely to cause stupidity and inconvenience” - lmaoo, Richelieu I feel you

“You think I won’t have you arrested? That you’re above the normal rules of soldiering?” - Yesss Treville, have him arrested! You will save everyone a lot of grief down the road!

Aramis punches Treville in the face! LOL! xD

Aramis and Marsac argue how to handle Treville (Marsac wants to assassinate him) and Aramis just cradles his face!

And then Marsac punches aramis in the face and knocks him out cold! LOL! xD

I love how the duke is actually objectively right in this episode. Imperialist France is meddling in the affairs of another sovereign state. The weak suffer what they must. And the musketeers are not on the side of good by helping the King and Richelieu conceal Cluzet. They follow their orders and work for the state, but the state is, well, not always nice. Just pointing that out...

The duchess looks so cool and beautiful riding into the garrison in that yellow dress with her cloak flapping in the wind!

“You traitor!” Cluzet says to the duchess. Pot calling the kettle black

“Not your average duchess then” - I don’t like this line! It sort of implies that an average duchess without fighting skills is somehow lesser and plays into a long pattern in television when women are only valued when they have “masculine” skills. But I do love her character a lot! More on that here: https://kuningannasansa.tumblr.com/post/100754198434/a-duchess-of-savoy-appreciation-post

Richelieu’s FACE when he sees D'artagnan as the guard! xD

But I wonder what his plan was? What if the musketeers had not shown up to save his ass?

“Paris has a number of excellent places of correction, if you’d like a tour of them all?” - aawwww, sassy cardinal!

He even gives Dartagnan a look of acknowledgement. As well he should! The Cluzet switch was brilliant and funny!

Now Marsac is going to kill Treville, but Aramis stops him, saying there should be a court martial. Well done Aramis, keeping your head! Also, justice! It does exist!

This is another very well acted emotional scene!

Aramis shoots Marsac, choosing Treville over him. It’s sad and tragic and wonderful television!

“I love my husband, very much” - I like their relationship

Lmaooo now Richelieu is already plotting the Duke’s murder xD

Wet Aramis at Marsac’s grave is hot!

In conclusion, there were some things I didn’t like, but all in all this was a very good episode!

Red Guards killed in the line of duty: none

Women fridged: also none! this really was a good one guys!

Best dressed: Constance

#the musketeers #bbc musketeers #cardinal richelieu #captain treville #trevilieu #constance bonacieux #milady de winter #musketeers rewatch

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boneandfur · 5 years

Text

Rosemary Lane [2] [N*FW]

Summary: At a house party six years after the events of Desire & Decorum, old wounds will be opened and dark secrets revealed... // Notes: this is a canon-divergent AU. // Rating: This chapter is Explicit 18 +. By clicking "read more" you are consenting to read it. // Pairings: Marlcaster x MC // Features cameos of characters owned by @debramcg1106 (Ava) & @breaumonts (Lisette) // Words: 6656

•••

CHAPTER TWO

In the end, the promised maid had never shown, and Briar had done her hair best as she could, set with carved ivory combs and silk roses, to jog Edmund's memory, if only a little, of summer.

But now she regrets her choice of plunging neckline and plumes, and feels the chill all the way down at the far end of the table, Rosamund only catching her eye once, as though in apology -- Or triumph. Briar does not know her friend so well anymore, she wonders if she ever has.

"This is revolting." Felicity Sinclaire pokes at her cold consommé, and sniffs. "I swear, the Bastard Duchess means for me to catch my death in this place." She glares down the table at Rosamund, holding court at the high end of the table, the men clustered around her like bees to the honeypot. "This has gelled -- you, there, fetch me another." She directs her ire towards one of the footmen, who whisks the shallow bowl away, but does not return with a replacement.

"I think you are correct about the chill, madam." Briar’s wry observation is met with Felicity's scoff.

"Of course I am correct. I am always correct. I am a lady." As if remembering the station of the person she is talking to, Felicity raises her glass. "More sherry!" Making a disgusted moué with her lips, she mutters, "I only need it to get through tonight. What a farce. She only invited me here to uphold the charade that she does not want to sleep with my husband." A brittle laugh. "Not that she would get far. He's a cold fish, is Mr Sinclaire."

Briar is saved from answering by Arthur Woods removing her bowl.

"The broth was not to your liking, Miss Daly?" he asks under his breath. When he steps away, she looks down and her heart constricts. A sprig of pennyroyal lies under the dish. Briar feels the blood rush to her head, stifling a gasp. When the black spots recede from her vision, she drops her napkin upon it before anyone can see.

Her heart constricts. Who knows? Who could know? Red Moon Lane, and the sign of the rabbit upon the door. She pinches her arm hard under the table, willing herself to focus, but it is too much. Briar pushes her chair back from the table. "Something must have disagreed with me."

"It isn't any wonder," Felicity gripes, glaring at Rosamund again. But Briar has already fled.

•••

The air is crisp and chill, the moon a preternaturally thin sickle in the dark, late autumn sky. The dead leaves blow in a swirl around her feet, and Briar's cunning little red leather half-boots, which she had been so proud of at harvest-tide, crunch loudly over the frost-encrusted grass as she makes her way through the still silence to the stables.

Inside, it is warm with the heat of animals, and Briar finds Marlcaster's matching gray pair, munching happily on oats. She presses her face into the warm neck of Guinevere, willing her pounding heart to slow. Who could have known? Who? The thoughts whirl dizzily in her head, stirring up dark, evil memories, thronged with guilt. He wouldn't have survived anyway, Miss… See? He would have been unlucky, all the days of his life.

But she is the unlucky one.

"Miss? Are you quite all right? Miss?" A man's voice, a light touch on her arm. Briar does not know how long she has been standing there for. She pulls back from the mare's neck and gives a little squeal of terror, shrinking back.

The man pulls the fur back from his face and smiles, his face eager and kind. He is not handsome, not in the classical sense, but there is something about his smile, a kind of irrepressible charm. His eyes are blue as the summer sky, and something about his open manner makes Briar trust him in an instant, even though she, of all people, knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men.

"I am Maximilian Beaumont," he says in heavily accented English. He sounds French to Briar's uncultured ears, and perhaps something else. German? She has never met a German. "Cousin to the Lady Rosamund, and dreadfully late to the party."

"I did not hear you come in, sir." Briar hates the timidness in her voice. "They are on the main course by now, I am sure." She tries to relax, and lets her hand linger on Guinevere's side, feeling the mare's great heartbeat (thump-thump. thump-thump. thump-thump) help still her own.

"Ah." Maximilian nods genially. "My lady sleeps. See?" He opens the carriage door to reveal a woman slumbering in a nest of furs, pale strawberry lashes fanned out against a milk-white, freckled cheek. She is Sleeping Beauty, awaiting only a kiss from her prince in a bower made of fine oak and plush velvet, smelling faintly of vetiver and lavender. "Will she be safe here, do you think?"

Let her sleep, Briar thinks. Let her slumber, let her never wake to know what evil lies beneath the roof this night. "Better not." With a jovial smile she does not feel, she jiggles the woman's gold silk slippered foot. The lashes open, revealing eyes of a startling deep green, drunk with slumber.

"Quoi?" The girl sits up with a questioning look. "Maximilian?"

Briar removes her hand, feeling a slight pang of guilt. The love in Maximilian's eyes when he gazes upon his lady sends a dark twist of envy straight to the pit of her stomach, but she smiles, as though she has not a care. "Hello."

"Bonjour." The lady has a slight lisp, Briar notes waspishly. "Ah, me! But I have overslept! Is this your cousin, Maximilian? The fair lady Rosamund?" Her serious study of Briar's face elicits a deep line in her forehead. "Zut! She looks nothing like you!"

"Non, ma petite fleur," Maximilian says with a laugh, helping her out of the carriage. Beside the lady, Briar feels like a giant, all big farm girl hands and feet. "This is...?"

"Briar Daly, if you please, sir." Briar goes to dip a curtsey, then half-recalls herself, settling on a nod. "The house is this way."

The great Continental lord sets his lady's hand in the crook of his elbow, he towers over her. Briar cannot get over how very European the two of them look, too grand for the shores of England, too grand for even the duchess's estate, and for a moment she feels very small and inconsequential, until the lights of the great house appear in their view, and then she feels more like her old self again, and is not so dazzled any longer.

•••

"Rosamund!" The doors slam open, startling the footman, and wine sloshes all over Rosamund's plate. She half-rises from her seat, noticing how Sinclaire's hand goes to his sword pommel, he has not said a word yet at dinner, and instead has watched her all night as though on his way to the gallows at Tyburn, a hanged man.

"Cousin Maximilian?!" Rosamund sputters before she is lifted from her seat, spun around twice and then set down, his arms nearly squeezing the life out of her.

Marlcaster is on his feet when Maximilian finally sets her down, and he searches her face with his eyes, as though to ascertain she is yet breathing. "Rosamund? Do you know this man?"

"Know her?" The man's accent is hard to place, and his looks harder still, brown hair cut short in a military fashion, sideburns fashionably long. "Why, she is my dear English cousin!" The man peppers kisses up her arm, his unshaven upper lip brushing against her bare skin, like the bristles of a boar. He looks around at the assembled company, spreading his arms as wide as his grin. "Lord Maximilian Beaumont." He gestures grandly, and a lady steps through the door, clad in silver gauze. She is tiny, with flaming red hair like a scandal waiting to happen, tumbling loose and beribboned down her back. She minces daintily up to the table, sweeping a deep curtsey in Rosamund's direction. Behind them trails a sodden Briar, who sits back down at the low end of the table and will not meet Rosamund's curiously fixed gaze.

"Well met, Cousin." Rosamund waves the lady forward, all of a sudden feeling overshadowed in her own home. She has not felt so out of place since she was a young girl, sitting down to her first dinner with her lordly father and grandmama. "And this is...?"

"Lisette," the girl murmurs, eyes fluttering downcast, then looking up at her lord from beneath her lashes. "Bonjour, madam."

"It is 'your grace'," Rosamund firmly corrects her, feeling put out by the way the men gaze at the girl, and not quite knowing why. "Woods, set a place for my cousin and his... lady." She presses her lips together, flicking her eyes at Woods and down at the lower end of the table, willing him to understand.

"Very good, my lady." Woods, discreet as ever, sets two new places, one at Rosamund's left hand, causing a disgruntled Marlcaster and Sinclaire to move down one place, and one at the far end, next to Briar.

Lisette looks momentarily taken aback, but she bows her head, and dutifully takes her place at the low end, reserved for unwanted houseguests. Her eyes flash, and she raises her chin to Rosamund, though whether it is insubordination or respect, Rosamund cares not.

Let her know her place, Rosamund thinks unkindly. We have all had to, in our time.

Maximilian takes his plate, moving to the center of the table and causing havoc in Rosamund's impromptu seating plan. For such a lanky man, he seems to take up an inordinate amount of space. He digs into the spread with gusto, piling his plate high with every delicacy at the table, and putting it away so quickly that Rosamund pauses with her wine glass halfway to her mouth, wondering why he is not as wide as he is tall.

"Fantastique!" Maximilian smacks his lips, taking a long pull of his Rhenish wine and leaning so far back in his chair that it protests with a loud creak. "Wait until you see what I have brought for tomorrow night, Cousin Rosamund! A delicacy fit for a Cordonian royal!"

"Ah, Cordonia? I thought I knew that accent!" Hamid beams, dabbing his mouth fastidiously. To Rosamund's horror, he pushes back his chair and moves, sitting down across from her cousin. "Tell me, Lord Beaumont, is it true there is a flock of wild albino peacocks on the grounds of the palace?"

"True?" Maximilian laughs, throwing back his wine as though it is a tankard of cheap ale. "Everything you have ever heard about that land is true, and not just some wild fairy story." He leans forward conspiratorially. "When Napoleón came through, we ran him off the border, and he forgot Cordonia ever existed!" Maximilian touches the faded silver scar on his cheek. "This was from Waterloo. Do you know the place? I fought with the English." A dark shadow falls across his face, and from the end of the table, Lisette's voice pipes up.

"Ah, Maximilian, the ladies do not want to hear about France." Again, her tone reprimands.

"I should like to hear about it, Cousin. Let us all adjourn to the study for port and cigars," Rosamund announces firmly, trying to wrest control of her party back. When she rises, the gentlemen rise as well, and they sweep from the dining room in a great wave, the wake pushing the other ladies back beyond the reach of the undertow, where the eddies lap in the shallow pools.

•••

"He will talk and talk, and then he will drink and drink, and then he will weep. Do you not see?" Lisette's arm is looped through Briar's, this is their second walk around the room, under the heavy fug of cigar smoke.

Rosamund is holding court again, coughing delicately on her cigar, the men riven by Maximilian's talk of the battle none of them had seen, safe at home in their beds. Felicity has pleaded a trip to the necessary, and been gone a long while, perhaps it is truly stomach troubles as she claims, but Briar thinks she should not like to see the way Ernest makes sheep's eyes at Rosamund, were she Felicity.

A cold fish.

Somehow, she doubts this to be the case.

She remembers his groom, Thompson, a steady man, smiling as he regaled the servants with a tale of a stack of unsent love letters burning a hole in Sinclaire’s pocket, all for Fair Rosamund.

Just looking at the burning in Sinclaire’s blue eyes as he watches Rosamund flirt with Hamid and Marlcaster, she has no doubt he is as passionate a lover as any woman could wish. But if that is so, why then has Rosamund thrown him over so readily?

A shared, fleeting look between Marlcaster and Rosamund puts that thought to bed, and Briar feels her heart crumple in her chest. Why should it still hurt so much? After all, it has been six months. But he took all my best years from me, leaving Rosamund in the cold, and now I am the one who is left in the cold.

Maybe... But she stifles the thought. Briar will not take another suitor from Rosamund, and suffer in comparison because of it.

"We rousted the French at La Rothière! At Laon! At Quatre Bras!" Maximilian, larger than life, knocks the chess pieces side to side, and then stands, slamming one finely polished Hessian boot upon the table. The remaining chess pieces go flying. "And then we came roaring down the road to Brussels, and after a night of frolicking and fucking, met the French on the battlefield at Waterloo with our skulls ready to split from strong drink! Lisette feared I was done for, did you not, my dove?" Maximilian plucks his dove from the edge of the room, twirling her around in his arms. "We met on the eve of Waterloo, and I did not think I should ever see her again, not until I went to the ballet in Vienna, and saw her dancing in Sun and Moon as a falling star!"

"He leapt upon the stage, sending the orchestra crashing into the audience!" Lisette spins out, her silver skirts fanning around her legs and giving the assembly a scandalous view of her spangled tights. "The conductor increased the tempo! And we all danced on!"

"And after it was over, why there was nothing for it, she must leave the ballet, and Vienna, and remain forever by my side!" Maximilian bends over Lisette's hand, kissing each fingertip one by one, as though they are utterly alone. Lisette cups her cheek, fair skin blushing a deep rose.

"To the Cordonian hero of Waterloo!" Hamid stands with a cry, raising his glass.

Lady Rosamund begins to clap, and then the gentlemen join in, until they are all applauding the European lord and his left hand lady, who smile at one another, clasping hands. Rosamund's own smile is strained.

She does not like it when their attention has left her, Briar thinks, and wonders how her friend has changed so much from the girl she knew back in Grovershire.

Once.

Long ago.

•••

"Another round!" Maximilian bellows, pulling Lisette into his lap. They are all merry with drink, laughing so much that Briar fears she will lose control of herself if she hears another jest. She is on the edge of the group, hanging back, and she nods to Rosamund, rising.

"Oh, but will you ask Woods to fetch another bottle of wine from the cellars, Briar?" Rosamund finally acknowledges her, eyes bright with too much drink.

Briar cannot trust herself to speak, instead she nods, warily. Once she is outside the room, Felicity accosts her, jumping out from the shadows like a lurking ghoul.

"Is my husband still in there?" she demands, her shrill voice grating on Briar's ears. "Only it is quite late. I wish him to escort me home."

"I am not your servant, madam." Briar makes to brush past the squire's wife, and Felicity grabs her arm, hard, her eyes wild.

"No, you are no better than that -- that strumpet in there! At least you are honest about it, and do not pretend to be anything other than what you are!" Felicity pauses, gathering herself. "Thank you for that." She is not the kind of woman who thanks others often, spitting the words from her mouth as though they are rusty nails.

"Still, I am not your servant, nor am I hers." Briar shakes out her skirts, making her way to the necessary, Felicity still trailing after her, she cannot seem to shake the woman. "Have done, my lady." And leave me in peace.

But Felicity is still talking, as though once she has begun, she cannot stop. "I hate him, I hate this." Her voice is brittle, but her eyes tell the tale. "If only I had but a child, then I should be able to bear this marriage, but he is so selfish, Miss, he will give me none. I would rather he took a mistress, and got a strong son upon her. I would raise the child as my own, and give it everything due to its rank, if not for the misfortune of its birth..."

The words wash over Briar as she finishes her business over the dark hole. Mrs Sinclaire cannot know what she is saying. How long has the lady been drinking in the dark, alone? Quite long, by the smell of her she has depleted an entire cask of ratafia. She will feel it come morning.

"I lost a child, in a place like this... Down they fell, down, down..."

She is not saying what I think she is. Felicity's words wash over Briar, leaving her cold. "You need to lie down." She grabs hold of Felicity's elbow, tugging at her firmly. "You do not know what you are saying."

When at last she has tucked Felicity into her own bed, in the red room, scarlet for scarlet women, Felicity grasps at her sleeve, her eyes red with sorrow. "He is in there, he is with her, he does not see me any longer." Felicity begins to blubber, and somehow Briar knows she does not speak of her husband. "It should be me who wears the feathers of the ibis in my hair, Miss Daly!"

•••

This party has not gone the way she wanted it to. Rosamund leans back upon the uncomfortable chaise, studying Lisette from the corner of her eye as the men play a fast and heavy game of hazard, smoking the Turkish tobacco Hamid has brought out and laughing amongst themselves. Rosamund feigns a yawn, not that anyone notices. It is more for her own sake.

"I am quite fatigued, I think I shall head upstairs," she murmurs quietly to the lady, who smiles and nods, continuing to peruse the book(Moll Flanders), though Rosamund is quite sure she is only pretending to have a rudimentary grasp on English. "You and Cousin Maximilian are in the green bedroom."

Green as the girl's eyes, green as a summer's day, the larks trilling from the hedges. She is tired, so tired. This time, Rosamund does not have to pretend fatigue. She runs her tongue along her upper teeth, and sneaks a glance at the back of Marlcaster's head. As though he feels her eyes upon him, he half-turns, and meets her eye, and she feels it resonate all the way down to her toes.

(Green as a ribbon, green as Midsummer's Day, green as the grass she lay down in, staining her skirts.)

When she at last finds herself upstairs, she goes straight to the silent nursery, where once her child slept, milk-drunk and heavy-lidded, rocked gently by his nurse in the Karlington-crested cradle. After the Duke's death, she had brought it back to Edgewater with her.

The years spun by like the rings in a wooden top, and soon Crispin was a sturdy little fellow, his pockets full of frogs and worms, and then he was seven years old, and away at school, where his name has been down since his birth -- and if she misses him (oh, how she misses him!) -- is it not better that her son be away from her, when she does not deserve even a scrap of his goodness?

•••

A son! The heir of Karlington! The Duke had boasted, raising his glass high. He spared no glance for Rosamund, lying pale and exhausted in the bed, though Ava had made her look presentable enough; sponging the sweat from her brow before decamping to the kitchens to fetch a nourishing broth.

This will make you strong, and bring in your milk, my lady. That is, if you still want to nurse him?

Of course I do, Rosamund had whispered, kissing the soft, downy head, marveling at how the tiny fingers curled around her pinky.

He looks like his father, my lady.

Rosamund's terrified eyes met those of her kitchen maid, who stared back at her steadily, the dark blue eyes telling nothing at all. His father?

Ava nodded sagely, squeezing Rosamund's hand. You do not have anything to fear from me, my lady.

As Ava exited the room, the Duke had swaggered in, already three sheets to the wind, reeking of gin and old man sweat. After staring at the baby and boasting of him to hear the sound of his own grandiose voice, he said, in a curiously satisfied tone, He will be called after me, of course.

Your Grace-- Rosamund raised her head, sitting up, and the great man paused in his braggadocio. What about the name Crispin, Your Grace?

Crispin?! The Duke waved a dismissive hand. "No, no, my dear lady. It will not do. A Karlington needs a strong name." She wondered, then, if he thought of his old friend Crispin, dead in the ground these twenty odd years. Friend, such a funny word for the man he had betrayed.

(But Rosamund knows that the Duke barely remembers Crispin at all.)

"...You may give that name to the spare." He pulled at his chin, smile not quite reaching his eyes. "Let no one say the Duke of Karlington cannot be magnanimous!"

Crispin (she would always think of him as Crispin, not Tristan) began to cry, and the Duke stared down at him with a look of disgust.

"His first lesson shall be to be seen and not heard." The Duke clapped a hand over Crispin's mouth. "You there, girl, shut him up, else I shall shake him like the squeaking rat he is."

The nursemaid, hardy country stock who came from Edgewater with Rosamund, snatched the squalling Crispin back, fear making her voice high. "Her Grace will nurse him."

The Duke's regard fell upon Rosamund, and she could see by his face that she had angered him, though she knew not how or why. She held out her arms for Crispin, feeling relief at the way he nuzzled against her, where he was meant to be. She opened her shift, and Crispin began to suckle, the flaxen lashes fluttering against his cheek. He looks like his father. Flaxen hair, and dark blue eyes, the iris flecked with gold and gray.

"Ladies do not nurse heirs to dukedoms, Lady Rosamund." The Duke loomed at the foot of the bed, his shadow cast behind him on the wall, leaping and cavorting in the flickering candlelight. His voice was thick with jealousy as he stared at the child. "He has had your body for long enough."

"He is a fine boy, Your Grace," Rosamund said, trying to keep her voice strong, as though she had not heard him. She kept her eyes trained on Crispin's face, hearing the Duke's boots creak across the floor, stopping just beside the bed. Instinctively, her arms tightened around her child. A thin thread of fear tightened, knotting around her heart. He has his father's nose, and his chin.

When she had finally controlled her pounding heart, she looked up at the Duke, whose eyes were focused on the child, but not with any sort of patriarchal affection. Rosamund's eyes met Ava's, standing frozen in the doorway with a tray, her eyes fixed on the Duke like a mouse will watch a snake.

The Duke plucked Crispin from Rosamund's arms, staring down at his heir dispassionately before tossing him aside as though he were nothing but refuse.

Rosamund let out a muffled shriek, diving forward to catch him, and the tray clattered to the floor, splattering hot broth everywhere as Ava caught Crispin in her arms.

The Duke hissed, annoyed. "If you cannot control your household, madam, perhaps you should not be trusted to be in charge of my heir."

Rosamund tried to control her emotions, and failed, bursting into tears. She held out her arms for Crispin, but the Duke shook his head. "You know I am a jealous man, Rosamund. I do not wish to share you any longer. Nine months I've waited to have you back in my bed, and I shall take my pleasure with you this night."

A thin, high wail came from Crispin, and her milk let down, wetting the front of her shift. "But Crispin -- the baby! Your Grace, he needs me!" Rosamund cried, holding out her arms for her child, but the palpable fear of the servants gave her pause.

"I think my need is far greater than his, Fair Rosamund." The Duke hissed, cupping the front of his trousers in an unmistakably lewd gesture.

For the first time, Rosamund did not fear for herself, but for her son, the cuckoo in the nest. For Crispin is not Karlington's. Crispin is --

•••

"You must miss him."

Rosamund startles, she has not heard him come up behind her, and stifles a tiny shriek. "Is it that apparent, sir?"

He laughs, lightly, though not unkindly. "You cannot hide your distress from me, Rose-of-the-World." His palm touches her shoulder tentatively, and when she folds into his embrace, her nose pressed to his chest, he wraps his arms around her, holding her until the tears subside.

"I did not think it would hurt this badly." Rosamund's cheek is damp where it touches his shirt, yet she does not move away, content to smell the scent of wood and field upon him, and to feel his strong, warm hands stroking her back. "But Crispin must go to Eton, for he is Karlington now." (Though he is not. He never was.) "I cannot keep the child tied to my skirts any longer. Would that he were a daughter!" she twists her fingers in her skirt with a sigh.

"Now come, Rosamund, you know that is not true. If he were a daughter, the two of you should be living in genteel poverty in some backwater, like your mother before you, while some second or third cousin squandered the rents, up to his neck in debts accrued at the gaming tables."

Rosamund puffs out her cheeks, exhaling a breath, and grins up at him. "Like Cousin Maximilian?"

He affects a look of horror, then grins back. "Exactly like! This place could have been the making of a man like that though, do you not think?"

Rosamund thinks of Maximilian, of the wildness inside of him, like a caged animal, and shudders. "No. No, Cousin Maximilian is a man who was made for war, and does not quite know what to do with himself in peacetime, besides rack up monstrous debt and live a life of wanton excess."

He smiles carelessly down at her. "And you do not think that I am that sort of man? Would I have made a good heir to an estate, do you think?"

She taps her lips, pretending to think. "I do. You, sir, were bred for exactly this."

"Trust you to always say the very thing to make a man's head swell." He lifts her chin, brushing a gentle kiss across her lips, and she shivers, clutching at his jacket as Marlcaster kisses her again, firmer this time, his mouth tasting of blackberries and tobacco. "Rosamund." Groaning, he presses his forehead against hers, lifting her legs and pressing her up against the wall, his hard length leaping in his breeches against the apex of her thighs, and she feels her lower belly stir with heat, going utterly liquid and wet at the thickness of him. "Rosamund."

Her name in his mouth elicits a moan from her, she arches her hips against him as his mouth ravages her neck, gasping his name as though she is drowning, her hands tangling in his thick flaxen hair. "By God, I need to be inside of you again." Marlcaster pulls back, eyes searching her face. "If I cannot bury myself to the hilt inside of you and make you scream as loud as you did the last time, then I will have failed as a man."

He is drunk, she is drunk, they both are. He cups her face in his hands, kissing her hard and deep, and she remembers the first time, how there had been tears, and how he had gone slow, so slow, so gently, that the second time, half-awake at the edge of dreams, she had understood exactly what all the fuss was about.

"Rose-of-the-World," he croons, and she rocks against him, moaning. He sinks to the floor, his knees thudding onto the hardwood, and then he has buried his face in her dripping wet heat, his hands pushing her thighs apart. "I won't tup you until you beg me for it, like you did in the greenwood, when I tied your wrists with a chain of grass and flowers, and you knelt over my face, your sweet quim dripping honey in my mouth." The tip of his tongue swirls at the nub of her swollen clit, and he groans, cupping her bottom with his hands and pressing closer, his tongue caressing the slick cleft of her sex before teasing her clit again, with slow and maddening precision.

"Ned." Rosamund presses his head against her, and bites back a scream as he plunges two fingers inside of her, all the way to the knuckle, making a corkscrew motion as he thrusts them in and out of her with slow, steady strokes, gradually increasing the pace until she feels as though her entire body has been lit on fire from within. "Ned, oh god, please."

"Please, what?" Marlcaster hums as he licks her pearl, flicking the hood with the tip of his tongue and pulling one of Rosamund's legs over his shoulder. She is so wet that her thighs are slick with it, she feels his stubble scrape her inner thighs and she moans: a wanton, brazen noise. "Are you begging me to tup you?" He nips at her pearl, and she screams his name, the world going white hot with pleasure as she peaks, rocking her hips against his mouth, peaking again and again, pressing his face hard between her thighs. He stands, wiping his face with his sleeve, and then she is desperately kissing him, his thigh between her legs as he pins her wrists to the wall. "Were you trying to make me jealous with Hamid?" Marlcaster whispers raggedly, flicking one thumb over her nipples. His dark blue eyes, flecked with gold, search hers.

"Ned," Rosamund gasps, the movement of his thigh and his thumb eliciting a soft cry from her. The smell of her arousal hangs heavy between them for a long moment, and then he has begun to undo his breeches, one hand braced against on the wall as his tongue twines against hers, their mingled breath coming in jerky pants.

"Not here," she moans against his touch, drunk on the taste of herself on his tongue, wild strawberries and sweet woodruff -- no, drunk on the taste of him, of summer, of wild memory.

"Where, then?" Marlcaster groans, pulling away from her, his yard tenting his breeches. "Your other lover is at your bedroom door, mark my words, wearing an anxious tread through the carpet. How long was the Duke cold in the ground before you took Sinclaire to your bed?"

"What, jealous?" Rosamund is unable to keep the taunt from her voice, yearning to slap some sense into him. "I will have you know Mr Sinclaire has only shared my bed a handful of times. Not since you -- since I -- since we... He has become quite wearisome of late, with his worrying about my comings and goings from this house, if you must know." She tries to laugh, it falls flat. "One would think I had a taken another husband, and not a lover."

"If you cannot see how you hold the two of us in the palm of your hand, Lady Rosamund, then you are a fool." Marlcaster swallows, looking away.

"You have been no saint, either!" Rosamund pokes him in the chest. "You seduced Briar, and Ruined her, and now you have brought her to my house, though you swore in your letter that you were quit of the arrangement!"

"She wanted to come. Would you deny Briar a new patronage, because she once made the mistake of falling in love with me?" Marlcaster's hair falls into his eyes as he looks gravely down at her, and when she brushes it away from his forehead, he groans, stepping back.

"Work? She cannot work here." Rosamund's laugh is full of disbelief. "The servants talk, you know. A ruined maid, in my home! I may be a duchess, but I am not an idiot."

"That is not what I meant. You are still such an innocent, for all you pretend to be fast, Lady." His lips brush over hers again, "I think you cannot know much of love at all."

Marlcaster steps away from her, straightening his cravat, and leaves her standing there, wondering at the sudden sea change, and what the two of them have been doing, so far apart, all these mad, lonely years.

You cannot know much of love at all.

•••

Briar wakes when someone sinks into the bed of the blue room behind her, strong arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her close. Edmund. She sinks back against his familiar shape, and the bed creaks as he pulls off his breeches, caressing the curve of her hip.

"I know you are only pretending to be asleep, Briar." Marlcaster's voice is thick with drink, and she can feel his hard length pressed up against her backside.

She lays for a long moment in silence, wondering if he knows how deep the wound between them lies, if he cares at all. The sign of the rabbit. She squeezes her eyes shut against the tears. "Do I mean only this to you?"

"Come now, just because things are quit between us does not mean we cannot seek comfort with one another now and then." He rests a hand on her shoulder, propping himself up on one elbow.

She turns her head, studying his familiar face in the moonlight. There are new lines at the corners of his eyes, and she feels at once the weight of the years pressing upon the two of them. So many years. She inhales through her nose, catching the unfamiliar scent upon him, violet water and a woman's musk, and she recoils. "You have been with her! Rosamund." The name tears the space between them, ripping the scar apart. "You smell of her." She pushes on his chest. "Am I only your second choice, to slake your lust upon?"

She has caught him out. Marlcaster rears back from her, mouth pressed in a hard line. "And, what of it? It has been done between you and I for nearly a year. Should I not seek comfort in the company an old friend?"

Not when she was my friend first! Briar's lip wobbles, and she shakes, trying to hold back the sobs.

"Ah, Briar, Briar. I am sorry, I did not mean to make you cry." Marlcaster strokes her cheek. "What is it that Sinclaire has that I do not?" When she does not answer, his face grows dark. "Well? I know you fucked him, so answer, madam."

Briar rolls over, her cheek in her hand, facing him. "What makes you say such things? You know I was always true to you, Edmund." Except when… When she closes her eyes, she hears the sound of the rain falling on the roof in heavy, thick droplets, mingled with snow.

"I said you could fuck who you liked. But you were not supposed to take me up on it." His words are tearing apart the scar around her heart, but worse still is the way he says them, condescending and matter-of-fact, he does not care at all. "I know everything, Briar. Just admit it."

Everything. Edmund does not know everything that happened that night, the night Rosamund wore his mother's diamonds to the opera, the night that -- "What if... --"

"Not one of your fairy stories again, Briar." Marlcaster groans, flopping back against the pillows. "If a whore upon the Strand teased a man until he ravaged her, the fault is her own."

"And what if the woman in question was Rosamund?" The words are like thorns in her mouth, filling it with blood. Blood, all over the birthing rushes. The midwife's elixir, that she drank until the bitter dregs, steeped in thick, dark wine. And the pain, cleaving her heart in two, as she looked down upon the half-formed little face.

A monster.

Marlcaster's voice is harsh, thick with fury. "This has gone on long enough. Get out."

"Edmund?" She hates the quiver in her voice, she hates the way he looks down at her, as though he sees a stranger.

"I am damnably sick of your lies." His mouth twists in a snarl, and he pushes her away from him. "You and I, that is done, and everything between us dead for a long time. I brought you here with me as a kindness, no more. I pity how pathetic you are at this."

"You are the one who seduced me," she cries, stung. I did not know, then. I was a green girl, an innocent, and did not know the way of the world. "When you only tired of Miss Sutton, and sought some way to end your betrothal!"

"Aye, and it worked, did it not? You thought I would marry you, a lady's maid? Gentlemen do not make wives of maids, only mistresses."

"And what of Lady Rosamund?" Briar is sitting up now, half ready to leap from the bed or to slap him, but she is afraid, though he has never given her cause to be. It is not his fault that I failed. "Will she become your mistress too, Edmund? Will you buy her a townhouse, and drape her in diamonds and pearls?"

Marlcaster grabs her by the shoulders, gold brows drawn together in anger. "Enough! You will find a new patron -- take your pick!" The bitterness in his voice stuns her, and she shrinks back from it, recoiling from his touch. He does not seem to notice, looming over her in the bed, his face a mask of disgust. "You ask, what should a common Miss upon the Strand expect from a gentleman?" Marlcaster fiddles with his purse, and then he dumps it between them, the coins a shining silver river of betrayal. "Two shillings for a fuck, madam. That is all."

•••

#marlcaster x mc #desire and decorum au #briar daly #n*fw #the royal romance #rosemary lane

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zukadiary · 5 years

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Hoshigumi Small Theaters ~ Spring 2019

I am five entire shows behind on reviews and I hate it!!

But I finally make it to Kansai!! I conveniently managed to see these guys on back to back days upstairs and downstairs in the same building. If nothing else I think I am 500% more educated on Hoshigumi after this trip.

Man from Algiers / Estrellas 2.0

Man from Algiers ticks all the National Tour buttons—old, done many times, ambiguous time period (useful for traveling costume recycling, i.e. why not just use the rainbow sports jackets we need for Estrellas anyway!)—and while I’m not surprised that Coto can make just about anything good, I was a bit surprised at how much I enjoyed the show itself (this was the first time I’d seen it at all, which was a blessing as the surprise ending was my favorite part).

I can definitely envision it in all its original 70s glory, and it made me wonder if they really just wanted to exploit a West Side Story aesthetic’s swoon-inducing abilities and came up with the plot later; the opening looks and choreography were awfully familiar. Am I saying it didn’t work?

No I am not saying that.

(And the resulting prologue number was really cool).

The story, while dated, was simple and easy to follow, and does a great job of making sure you understand each character’s motivation with minimal info (difficult AND clutch for one-acts). There’s a good summary on the wiki, I’m including spoilers not mentioned there.

Team National Tour is definitely the lighter side of the troupe split, especially with regard to upperclassmen, but I thought Algiers was a good fit for this particular arrangement of members, and everyone really nailed their characters. Most notable:

Julien is a despicable person, and it’s a testament to Coto’s pure heart and brimming talent that she made him a totally valid protagonist, complete with moments that made my heart lurch a little (when his old friends are bullying him in his cute little chauffeur outfit; how quickly he abandons everything to stand by Sabine when everything goes to hell at the end).

It was very weird first not to see Aichan in Ocean’s and then to see her hanging out with a percentage of Hoshigumi, but this cast needed her. Her Jacques (albeit very reminiscent of her Bernardo) was a good balance for Coto; they both played unsavory people, but Aichan playing bad has kind of a darker streak that suits the more evil friend well, whereas Coto playing bad still has an undercurrent of goodness that gets you fully on board with his journey to reform.

Otoha Minori as Sabine was a good choice not only for her abs in the gold night club bikini dress, but for her maturity, which lended sincerity to Sabine’s fantasy-level selflessness in her concern for Julien and her desire to watch over him. When she shoots Jacques in her dressing room to get him out of the way so he can’t interfere with Julien’s new life, I was so impressed that it read as an act of sacrifice (however excessive and stupid) purely out of love and desire to see Julien continue to grow and succeed, instead of “look at what I did for you, come back to me!”

Asamizu Ryou played Bollinger, the dude who takes Julien in and grooms him for upper-crust success, opposite not just Coto (her senpai) but Shirotae Natsu (her mega-senpai), and she did it with a surprising amount of gravitas. She’s got that face which definitely helps, but she was a little scary and exuded a lot of authority. Shirotae Natsu was hilarious as the extraordinarily airheaded wife, and her interjections may have even been singlehandedly responsible for keeping the pacing of the show brisk and entertaining.

Sakuraba Mai played the Bollingers’ daughter Elizabeth. She was detestable, but in the way that indicates a great acting job. She’s at that awkward spot where it looks like she’s getting almost heroine weight roles in small theaters and disappearing in grand theaters. I hope they keep pushing her because she’s very strong.

Number one heartbreaker Kozakura Honoka (voice of an angel!) played blind Annabel, daughter of Kumichou/a very influential duchess. She mostly stays inside alone, and then Julien woos her with the intention of climbing the social/political ladder (while developing feelings for Elizabeth and also really never getting over Sabine). Annabel overhears Julien confessing his feelings to Elizabeth and asks her attendant Andre (Kiwami Shin, in love with Annabel) to let her kill herself. Honoka apparently put an immense amount of time and research into acting blind and it showed.

Fellow American Sayaka Rin had probably the most lines she’s had yet, in a role formerly held by both Takashio Tomoe and Hyuuga Kaoru <3

My personal MVPs of this show were Shidou Ryuu and Kiwami Shin, Shidou not even for doing anything particularly spectacular, but just just for having grown so much since I first became aware of her existence via the Koumori shinko 3+ years ago. She’s always going to be on the cute side rather than the devastating side IMO, but she’s developed enough confidence and control in her acting that she’s become a really lovable best friend/brother type; her character’s relationship with Julien and secret-but-obvious admiration of his far superior coolness was really adorable. Andre (Shin) isn’t a super juicy role until the very end, but the way Shin did Andre’s quiet breakdown when Annabel was explaining she didn’t want to live anymore, and then her poise when Andre came out of nowhere and shot Julien just as he and Sabine were trying to run away from shooting Jacques (?!??!) was like, my jaw actually dropped. Granted she’s still super young, but Shin isn’t someone who has thus far impressed me proportionately to the amount they’re pushing her, so this mini breakout was nice to see.

Estrellas (a revue that I loved!), like all tour revues with less than half the cast and no staircase, felt quite small, at least from the B-seki side box. But in the smallness, normally unseen people get to shine, and there were moments that had me bouncing in my chair. Amato Kanon is going to grow up dangerous (if Tennis Daughter doesn’t just consume all the otokoyaku below 98th); in the opening with everyone else beaming she was smoldering. Aichan and Anru took Kai’s medley (with different songs) and made it a very cute douki thing. Sazanami Reira needs to dance closer to the front more often. Ruri Hanaka (who, bless her heart, cannot sing, at least not like a musumeyaku) somehow snagged Airi’s part in Tonight is What it Means to be Young, and despite the singing, absolutely killed it; that girl can DANCE and she’s got sass and arm muscles for days and a look in her eye like she’ll superglue you to your makeup table if you cross her.

And boy, Coto looks good in that top position. The talent is really stupid, but on top of that she has such warmth. I’m really excited for her Hoshigumi.

Kamatari

Kamatari accomplished a feat, because admittedly I went in having already biased myself against it; I thought Beni and Airi getting a weird nihonmono for their last small theater was dumb and just about as NOT THEM as you can get.

But I take it back! It was lovely!

For starters it was visually stunning, which feels like the thing you say when you’re trying to convince yourself that you liked a nihonmono you didn’t actually understand a word of... but in this case, it really was just a bonus. The story (summary here) is not actually all that complicated, and the dialogue was even on the friendly side for nihonmono—no weird dialects (beyond what it always takes to decipher Beni), no 12th level keigo.

Act 1 introduces Kamatari (Beni) and Soga no Iruka (Hanagata Hikaru) meeting as youths in school and developing a friendship, and then takes us, as far as I can tell, fairly historically accurately through the events leading up to and including the Isshi Incident. Act 2 was a little harder for me to follow; but it seems to be just a progression of Kamatari’s struggles living under the new post-incident emperor Naka no Oe (Seocchi), with whom he’d conspired to eliminate Soga no Iruka, and the former empress/Naka no Oe’s mother (Kuracchi), who wants to see Kamatari suffer, because she both loved Iruka and couldn’t side against her son.

Most of the roles were pretty small so there are fewer standouts, but here they are:

This was the third in a progression of Hoshi shows I saw live (the other two being Another World and Elbe) that really helped cement my respect for Beni and Airi’s brand of chemistry. At the beginning of her top run, I was skeptical about Beni’s ability to generate romantic chemistry with anyone at all (Scarlet Pimpernel didn’t really help me with that, and I haven’t seen anything between that and Another World). They definitely don’t have sizzling hot chemistry, and they don’t have that cute newlywed chemistry either, but I noticed watching Kamatari that in the last few Hoshi things I’ve seen, I’ve found it very easy to believe how deeply Beni loves Airi in whatever world they’re portraying. They have like, comfortable old married couple chemistry (yes, even when they’re playing love at first sight). Their moments in Kamatari were very tender, but in a wholesome “aw, she cooked for him” kind of way. Yoshiko (Airi) also had a lovely part at the end, where the two of them are old, and Kamatari’s health is failing, and they go back to the spot where they met, and she says their life wasn’t always easy, and they suffered, and they struggled, but in the end she can honestly say she had fun, and she’s truly happy. I teared up! It was sweet and meta! That alone convinced me it wasn’t a bad last small theater for them.

Hanagata Hikaru was SO much the star of Act 1 that it had me wondering if this was gonna turn out to be HER taidan present (but then she died and didn’t appear in Act 2 at all). I can’t complain because she kicked ass. I feel like I said this exact thing re: Another World, but Mitsuru is normally about as vanilla as it gets for me, but she blew me away. The pompous genius school kid to the idealistic young man to the uncertainty that comes with the reality of seizing power to the change to tyranny mixed with love for the empress and complicated feelings for his childhood friend all flowed seamlessly.

Not that I’ve watched a ton of Hoshi recently, but this was the best role Tenju Mitsuki has gotten in GOD I can’t even remember how long. Esaka is in service of the (state? empire?) as a historical record keeper, and serves kind of as a narrator as well (along with Itsuki Chihiro). I don’t even know how to describe how she characterized him... he’s odd? Maybe a little off? Regardless, she was brilliant. Watch it.

Arisa Hitomi has that empress energy for sure. I read up on the history of the events afterwards, and the explanation of why she had to give up the throne after witnessing such violence (the idea back then that an empress couldn’t be sullied by such things), and that made the sensitivity with which Kuracchi portrayed her feel even more poignant the more I sat with it afterwards.

This was the first show where to me Seocchi felt like she belonged up there with Beni and Mitsuru. She definitely put some weight behind Naka no Oe and was very princely. NOW I wanna see her tackle a more interesting/challenging (and tbh more Hoshigumi) role from up in this spot.

All in all now I’m a little sad I won’t be around for God of Stars.

#takarazuka #reviews #hoshigumi #man from algiers #kamatari #am i 東宝組 now 19

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gffa · 6 years

Text

One of the best things about STAR WARS fic is that there’s almost always something for someone, whether you want something plotty or more time travel, whether you want to cry about how sad Leia Organa’s life is or revel in how strong she is despite it all, whether you want to dive all the way back to the prequels or if you’re here for the sequels, whether you’re here for the big name characters or the more minor characters that fandom will try to flesh out, there’s going to be something that appeals. It’s one of the reasons I’ve stayed as long as I have, because something will appeal, no matter my mood! Sometimes I want something more hopeful, sometimes I want something that will break my heart, sometimes I’m tired of one era or just more hyped for another. I appreciate that fic helps further the world of the Saga, beyond just the story of Anakin Skywalker! I appreciate that sometimes it still really, really is about him! I appreciate that there’s fic that appeals to my shipping heart, I appreciate that there’s fic that appeals to my gen-loving heart, I appreciate that there’s so much variety that it seems next to impossible to get bored with Star Wars, not when I have so many new branches that fandom will help me explore! STAR WARS FIC RECS: TIME TRAVEL RECS: ✦ Let’s Try This Again by Nny11, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, time travel, 11.7k wip Anakin’s life is shaken up when he finds a small togrutan toddler hiding in a dingy alleyway, after all, she did create a Force bond with him and is apparently his future Padawan. Wizard! ✦ In Time by Ripki, obi-wan & anakin & cast, time travel, 27.1k As the Clone Wars drags on and the secrets between them grow, Anakin and Obi-Wan have begun to drift apart. When a mysterious holocron sends them through time, they don’t only have to confront their past and future – but the present as well. ✦ A Future in Crisis by WolfMarauder, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & & padme & cast, 7.6k wip Ahsoka has a vision that may change the course of the future. She just needs to keep her master from falling, keep his wife from dying, and the Jedi Order from dying out… That’s all. The first step is returning the the Jedi Order and she finds she has more friends than she thought. ✦ Palimpsest by PorgParty, ben & obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & cast, time travel, 21.5k wip Kylo Ren, newly-crowned Supreme Leader of the First Order, finds himself flung back through time to the era of the Clone Wars. He decides to capitalise on this opportunity and insert himself into the life of his beloved grandfather Anakin Skywalker. Together they will rule the galaxy with an iron fist. Unfortunately, Kylo has never been very good at being evil. ✦ Old Man Luke by scarletjedi, obi-wan & anakin & luke & leia & ahsoka & asajj & cast, time travel, 41k wip Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes. “Who are you?” He asked, hoping a direct question would yield answers. The old man seemed adept at side-stepping information when asked a bit more deftly. “I’ve never heard of a Master with your level of talent.” ✦ Unexpected Awakening (The Rewrite) by Rhiw, obi-wan & cast, time travel, 6.4k wip The life of General Kenobi is cut short at the hands of his Padawan, but the sight that greets his eyes upon awakening is not that of blinding light of the Force, but the Jedi Temple he knew when he was still a youth. As he struggles to understand the path laid out before him, Obi-Wan unwittingly captures the attention of a singularly unusual Temple Guard, and that of a reluctant Qui-Gon Jinn. ✦ Rewind, Repeat by tulomne, obi-wan/satine & qui-gon & cast, time travel, 23k And just like that, Obi-Wan Kenobi dies. But death is just the beginning, he realizes as he wakes as he once was, Padawan braid and all, alongside Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn and Satine Kryze. Visions of the future, just out of his grasp, plague the young Jedi as the three traverse the galaxy, avoiding the dangers that follow the Duchess of Mandalore. PREQUELS RECS: ✦ Domo Arigato, Mr Roboto by amarielah, anakin & sam & dean & cast, crossover, 13.7k When Sam and Dean investigate a spate of Vader sightings in a remote Wyoming town, they discover that – this time – they’re hunting the real deal. Vader, meanwhile, has to adjust to a world that seems designed to piss him off. All while trying his best not to strangle the Winchesters. ✦ The Living Force; Parables for Padawans by glorious_clio, obi-wan & cast, 6.1k Since infancy, younglings are taught the Jedi Code, “Emotion, yet peace. Ignorance, yet knowledge. Passion, yet serenity. Chaos, yet harmony. Death, yet the Force.” Obi-Wan Kenobi learns these tenets backwards and forwards again. But even as a child, he is interested in nuance. And so his teachers tell him parables. ✦ The Great Galactic Politics Mess-Up by iomccoy, obi-wan & anakin/padme & dooku & mace & cast, 6.8k wip Obi-Wan Kenobi asks Count Dooku if he actually has any evidence. He does. It gets messier from there. ✦ A Future Unlived by AlexTirZeng, obi-wan & katooni & cast, 1.8k Just because a war was on didn’t mean people didn’t dream of a future; if anything, it made them long for what would come after. Obi-Wan was no exception. He’d hoped to see Anakin raise Ahsoka to knighthood. He’d hoped to take another padawan of his own. ✦ Remedial Jedi Theology by MarbleGlove, obi-wan & anakin & mace & cast, 31.2k wip Let us consider the fact that the Jedi Order is a monastic religious organization based out of a temple, with five basic tenets of faith. ✦ Lessons Learnt by Sweven, ahsoka & kit & cast, 2.4k As a kid, Ahsoka struggled with many things. Sometimes you just need someone to lift you up and give a word of encouragement. ✦ The Ryloth Excursion by Icarus_is_flying, obi-wan & ahsoka & cast, 2.9k After a surprise Separatist attack, Ahsoka and Obi-wan find themselves stranded on Ryloth’s plains. Now master and padawan must work together to make it back in one piece. ✦ Duet by Silver Sky 1138, oc & cin, 2.3k Asha Scarsi, the Jedi Padawan who feels the Force through music, isn’t half as good at lightsaber combat as she is at singing and mindtricks. So she’s a little nervous when Battlemaster Cin Drallig calls her to the training room after class. ✦ Luminous Spirits by Pandora151, obi-wan & ahsoka & cast, 5k Ahsoka and Obi-Wan, before and after everything changes. ✦ a choice made and made again by Sweven, obi-wan/satine & qui-gon & cast, 4.1k A glimpse into the year on the run ✦ We Have Lost by ReneeoftheStars, barriss & luminara, 1.9k It has been a long time since Barriss Offee was imprisoned for bombing the Jedi Temple. Not one to break, she has survived it. One day, she receives an unexpected visit from one she thought long gone from her life. ✦ The Sisters of the Little Kindness by ambiguously, ahsoka/asajj, NSFW, 4.4k Ahsoka isn’t alone as she goes into hiding. ✦ The Talk by B_Radley, shaak & ahsoka ( & background barriss/ahsoka), 1.9k A Jedi Master gives someone else’s Padawan The Talk ✦ The Only Home We Know by ReneeoftheStars, katooni & petro & ganodi & byph & gungi & zaft & cast, character death, child death, 2.4k The Jedi Temple is under attack. Determined to fight for their home, younglings Katooni, Petro, Zatt, Ganodi, Byph, and Gungi make their way to aid the Jedi Masters in defense of the Temple. But the situation is far graver than they expected. ✦ Darkest before Dawn by AceQueenKing, padme/mon mothma, 2.3k “I want my babies,” Padmé whispered, leaning into Mon’s shoulder. Mon tightened her grip on the younger woman, trying to reassure them both. Padmé, glorious flower of the Senate, was wilting fast in her arms, and it scared her, scared her more than she’d like to admit. ✦ Departed by Pandora151, obi-wan & anakin & vokara & bant & dooku, character death, 3.1k One was too late; the other was taken too soon. ✦ Obi-Wan Kenobi’s Lady Friend by Sulis57, obi-wan & anakin & rex & cody & boil & waxer & cast, 3.2k Anakin Skywalker just wants a quiet night at home by himself. Unfortunately, a group of unexpected visitors arrive bringing a potentially destructive acquaintance into Skywalker’s home. ✦ The Probability of Failure: The Mother by B_Radley, shaak & obi-wan & cast, 1.8k A huntress and Knight struggles to find peace in the wake of devastating loss. Several beings attempt to help her. ✦ Or has time rewritten every line by ambiguously, anakin & ahsoka & kaeden, 4.1k Ahsoka gets a message from an old friend that leads her to an older friend. ✦ Flickering Sunlight by Pandora151, obi-wan & anakin/padme & cast, 1.5k In the aftermath of Order 66, Anakin comes to a decision. OBI-WAN/ANAKIN RECS: ✦ Equinox by lilyconrad, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, sith!obi-wan (sort of), d/s, 95.9k During the Clone Wars, Obi-Wan and Anakin crash on a remote planet and take shelter in the ruins of a grand estate only to find they are not alone. ✦ Little Moments by darlingamidala, obi-wan/anakin/padme, 2.8k This is a series of obianidala-focused drabbles, prompts, and shortfics. ✦ WANTED: DEAD OR ALIVE by anecdotalist, obi-wan/anakin & bail & ahsoka & cast, 30.1k wip War has broken out between the Republic and the Separatists. But that is of no concern to Ben, one of the best bounty hunters in the galaxy. All he’s focused on is his next target…until he’s invited to a tournament of hunters on Serenno. There, he meets a young Jedi Knight—the Hero With No Fear, Anakin Skywalker—who’s disguised as bounty hunter Rako Hardeen. ✦ Unmoored by lilyconrad, obi-wan/anakin, ~1k In every world Anakin and Obi-Wan will find their way to each other, but this time it just might be too late for both of them. ✦ within us, through us by allourheroes, obi-wan/anakin, nsfw, ~1k The Force is everywhere. Obi-wan helps Anakin understand. ✦ a spring haze by bell, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 3.2k Obi-Wan kisses Anakin back because he believes in him. ✦ Three Bodies In Orbit by rainglazed, obi-wan/anakin/padme, 4k A collection of ficlets and drabbles I’ve written for the obianidala suggestion blog, now posted to AO3 for easier viewing. ✦ These Three Remain by shadowsong26, obi-wan/anakin/padme, 27.5k Immediately after the Festival of Light (and Obi-Wan’s stint undercover as bounty hunter Rako Hardeen), Anakin and Padme leave Coruscant on impulse, in response to an anonymous tip sent to Padme’s office about vital intelligence hidden in a cache of stolen goods. But things go terribly wrong, and they find themselves stranded and injured, with limited resources and no one knowing exactly where they are. ✦ Intently by zarabithia, obi-wan/anakin & cast, 2.2k Five times Anakin thought about kissing Obi-Wan in order to distract him. ✦ Tumblr Prompts by Darlings (FromDreamstoEmpires), obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, human au, 1.4k (for this chapter) A collection of prompts that I’ve filled on Tumblr. ✦ Satisfying Victory by zarabithia, obi-wan/anakin/ahsoka, nsfw, time travel, 3.4k The Force gives and Ahsoka takes. (Or, Ahsoka goes back in time and is totally going to fix everything. But there’s another order of business to attend to first.) ✦ untitled by themoosejthm, obi-wan/anakin/padme, NSFW, toys, 2.3k Anakin whimpered as he lowered himself onto the toy, his eyelashes fluttering and his toes curling. ✦ Soft now by Gondolin, obi-wan/anakin/padme (pre-ship?) & cast, 3k Luke and Leia saved the galaxy before they were even born, Obi-Wan saved them and got aggressively adopted by the Naberrie-Skywalker family. Bonding with dads (plural, yes, Obi-Wan) is important and Padmé needs a nap. ✦ Addictions by lilyconrad, obi-wan/anakin, human au, mafia au, 3.4k A Sith AU with three-piece suits: Ben is a “negotiator” for the mafia and Anakin his faithful, frightening enforcer. ORIGINAL TRILOGY RECS: ✦ In Which Vader Discovers He is a Father by glompcat, anakin & luke & leia & cast, 27.7k A collection of (mostly self-contained) AUs where Vader learns about his kids earlier than he did in the canon timeline. Exploring both that moment of initial discovery, and the way the story unfolds after Vader finds Leia and/or Luke. ✦ The Princess Who Remembered Her Name: An Alderaani Faerie Tale by glorious_clio, leia & cast, 6.3k “Once upon a time, there was a kind and clever and courageous Princess,” Bail begins his favorite story, and Leia is excited to share this with him. She goes through her life with the story in her mind, and tries not to read too much into it. ✦ The Hermit’s Son by landsail0r, obi-wan & luke, 1.2k AU where Obi-Wan raises Luke. ✦ Hope is a Four Letter Word by laniew1, obi-wan & luke, 3.2k wip Obi-Wan’s life is simple; he wakes, he eats, he meditates and on some mornings he watches Luke (or the Obi-Wan raises Luke instead AU). ✦ may you inherit his light by notbecauseofvictories, anakin & leia & bail, 2.5k In this, as in many things, Leia is her fathers’ daughter. ✦ for the hint of a spark by egelantier, luke & leia, 5.1k This is the gift she wants - her brother, her valiant brother, and the word is sweet on her tongue - and the price she doesn’t want to pay, the legacy she doesn’t want to accept. Her father’s body is burning, and she’s glad. ✦ How to Be Dead by victoria_p (musesfool), obi-wan & anakin & padme & luke & leia & han & rey & cast, 2.7k You lose everything. You give up. REBELS RECS: ✦ Untitled Rebels Fic by Mirror and Image, zeb/kallus & cast, 11.6k Kallus, on Yavin IV, sees a Lasat that isn’t Zeb. Things go as expected. ✦ Eidolon by Mira_Jade, han & hera & cast, 4k Captain Solo and General Syndulla, on the subject of shipcraft, idealism, and love. In no particular order. SEQUELS RECS: ✦ Of Worth by celeste9, rose & poe & bb8, 1.4k After Rose assists BB-8 with repairs to Poe’s ship, she gets an unexpected thank you. ✦ What They Grow Beyond by rain_sleet_snow, rey & anakin & cast, 7.1k The war is spluttering to a halt, and Rey goes to Tatooine to build a lightsaber. FULL DETAILS + RECS HERE!

#obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #padme amidala #obikin #obianidala #ahsoka tano #luke skywalker #leia organa #shaak ti #mace windu #asajj ventress #fic recs #star wars fic recs

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mind-reader1 · 6 years

Text

Queen of Hearts (Ch.4)

Drake x MC (Emma Barnes)

TRR AU: What would happen if Emma loved Drake but had to marry Liam?

Catch up here

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2105

Summary: Someone’s learned Emma and Drake’s secret before the court even knows. What will this mean for them? Liam and Emma make an agreement before their announcement to the press and drunk Drake tries to be romantic.

Note: NSFW coming next chapter!!!!!

Chapter 4: Adore You (Miley Cyrus)

I love lying next to you

I could do this for eternity,

You and me were meant to be in holy matrimony

God knew exactly what he was doing

When he lead me to you

When you say you love me

Know I love you more

When you say you need me

Know I need you more

Boy, I adore you,

I adore you

Drake's eyes flew open and he sat up to find Maxwell in the doorway. Emma groggily opened her eyes at Drake's sudden movement.

“Shit.” She saw Maxwell's shocked face and realized they were still in their underwear.

“Maxwell. I need you to listen.” He had turned to run but stopped, his hand hovering over the handle.

“It's not what it looks like.” Maxwell kept his back turned while Emma and Drake got dressed.

“Really? It looks like you're naked in bed with Drake even though you're engaged to Liam.” Emma groaned it was exactly what it looked like.

“There's more to it than that Maxwell. I'll tell you everything if you promise to keep it between us.” Maxwell bit his lip and turned around.

“Liam is my friend Emma, but so are you and Drake.”

“I'm going to go,” Drake said awkwardly, slipping out past Maxwell.

“Take a seat, Maxwell.” Emma sighed before recounting the events of New York.

“I'm so sorry I brought you here Emma. I never meant for this to happen.” Emma let out a small chuckle as she wiped stray tears from her eyes. She grabbed Maxwell's hand and squeezed.

“Don't be Maxwell, you couldn't have known. Besides, you introduced me to the greatest love of my life, for that I'll be forever grateful, but maybe you could get into the habit of knocking rather than barging in?” Maxwell gave a small chuckle and pulled her into a hug.

“We're at the palace now. If I can do anything to make it easier let me know.” With that, he left her alone to collect her things.

As she approached the palace, Liam fell into step beside her.

“We should discuss what we're going to tell the court, the press will be here in an hour for a press conference.” Emma nodded.

“Now that my name is cleared we're happy to announce our engagement.” It wouldn't come as much of a shock to anyone, in fact, it had been the question on everyone's mind once her name had been cleared.

“That's perfect.” There was no enthusiasm in his voice though, he was still hurting.

“Olivia is on to us. She cornered me in my room last night.” Liam nodded.

“We do need to make some effort of looking like a happy couple in public.” Emma winced at his icy tone.

“Liam.” She stopped and grabbed his hands. He looked down at her and she saw just how much he was still hurting.

“You're my friend and I care for you deeply. I can't do this if we only pretend to be happy for the cameras. I cherish our friendship and I don't want to drive a wedge between you and Drake, he's going to need a friend.” Liam gave her an apologetic smile.

“You're right. I'm asking a lot of you and Drake, and if all you ask for in return is my friendship, I can definitely do that.” Emma reached up to cup his cheek.

“Thank you, Liam.”

They got everything inside and barely had enough time before the press were ready for them.

“Welcome back your Majesty, Lady Emma.” they both smiled and waved to the press.

“Thank you. It's good to be back home.”

“I'm going to ask the question that's on everybody's mind. You've broken off your engagement to Lady Madeleine, where do you and Lady Emma stand?” Liam looked at Emma who gave him an imperceptible nod. They knew this moment would happen.

“King Liam and I are engaged.” The press was stunned into silence for a moment, once the shock wore off everyone's cameras were flashing and the questions were coming at them rapidly from all directions. Liam held up his hand and the press immediately stopped.

“In addition per Cordonian law, Lady Emma will be the newest duchess of Valtoria!”

“That's quite an honor and a large responsibility. Do you feel you're ready to take on such a roll?” Emma stepped up to the mic and put on the smile she reserved for the press.

“I know that some may have their doubts, but I love Cordonia, I will honor the people and do what is best for them.”

“Well, we certainly look forward to seeing what you do. Thank you, Lady Emma, your Majesty.” With one last wave to the press, they entered the palace.

They had just finished the press conference when Hana and Drake came around the corner, Maxwell in tow.

“I told you we'd find them here,” Drake said.

“What's going on?”

“We're home in Cordonia. What better way to celebrate than by going to a beer garden!” Maxwell was practically bouncing with excitement.

“Hana has been looking at the menu for the past two hours and still hasn't decided.”

“There's just so much to choose from!” Liam chuckled.

“Well, I have meetings the rest of the day. If you wait until this evening I can accompany you.” Liam said.

“I'm sure we can find something to occupy ourselves for a few hours!” Maxwell bounded off to do God knows what and Hana wandered off, continuing to stare at the menu.

“Guess it's just you and me, Barnes.” Drake took a step closer but kept his distance as the palace was buzzing with staff.

“I guess so,” she took another step towards him.

“Lady Emma!” They jumped apart and looked up to see Constantine approaching.

“I was hoping I could borrow some of your time.” Emma gave Drake an apologetic look.

“Of course, King Father.” She followed him to a dining room of the palace where Queen Mother Regina was waiting. He apologized for the scheme against her and discussed her duties as the newest duchess of Cordonia. It was awkward, to say the least, but a necessary evil.

By the time the meeting was over, her friends were ready to go to the beer garden. They all laughed and drank, it felt like old times, they were able to forget their troubles. Everyone was dancing on tables, Emma even got Drake to dance with her. It was a rare sight but Emma had never had so much fun in her life. It was late when they returned to the palace, Emma didn't have too much to drink but Drake clearly had.

“Psst, Barnes.” Drake stumbled up to Emma as they walked in. Emma couldn't help but smile, he was trying to whisper but failed completely.

“How about I give you a tour of the palace?”

“I've seen it, Drake. We all live here.”

“No, no. A secret tour.” Emma stifled a laugh.

“What does a secret tour entail exactly?”

“I can't tell you because then it wouldn't be a secret.” Emma playfully rolled her eyes, it felt good to have fun after everything that had happened in New York.

“Okay, Drake. I'll go on this secret palace tour with you.” He grinned and laced his fingers with hers.

“Follow me.” Everyone went to their rooms while Emma and Drake snuck off to the Grand Ballroom. Drake pointed out a small difference in the molding then revealed a childhood story. As Drake recalled the story Emma could see it so clearly, baby Drake getting competitive with his friend. He tried to lean against the wall but misjudged and began falling, he caught himself and tried to play it off but he looked ridiculous. Emma smiled shaking her head, she would have so much fun giving him shit for this later.

“This way.” He slipped out into the hall and Emma followed confused when he stopped halfway.

“It's a hallway.”

“That's not what I wanted to show you. Look!” Drake dragged her to the window and pointed out. It was a view of the palace wall, not even a pretty fountain, it was literally just a wall.

“This is the best, best view in the palace.”

Emma suppressed a giggle and nodded.

“It really is something Drake.”

“It's just so beautiful and it reminds me of you because Emma...uh Barnes, you're beautiful.”

“I like drunk Drake, your inner poet comes out.”

“I'm not drunk, Barnes. You're just blurry.” Emma rolled her eyes.

“Thank you for taking me to this romantic spot Drake, I'm glad it makes you think of me.”

“I've wanted to show you this since I realized I had feelings for you, Barnes.”

“You're pretty sweet when you want to be Drake.”

“I'm glad you think so.” Suddenly Drake frowned.

“Wait. Shit. This wasn't the right window. It's this one.” Drake grabbed Emma's hand and tugged her down to a different window that had an equally boring view.

“Not to sound ungrateful, but was this the secret? I didn't think windows could be a secret.” Drake frowned shaking his head.

“No...no. There's more.” he looked around and then his eyes lit up, it was like a lightbulb had gone off in his brain.

“Over here.” He stopped outside of a door.

“This is Kiara's room.”

“Why do you know where Kiara's room is? Why are we here in the middle of the night?” A hint of jealousy crept into Emma's voice. Drake grinned.

“You're cute when you're jealous.” he tapped her nose.

“We're not here to talk to Kiara though, we're here to prank her.” Emma's jealousy melted away into amusement.

“This is a whole other side of you. Drunk Drake needs to make an appearance more often.”

“C’mon, Barnes.” Drake snuck into her room and then stood there.

“Okay, what's the plan here?” Drake shrugged.

“You brought me here without a plan?”

“I didn't plan this far ahead. What should we do?” Emma whispered into Drake's ear and a grin broke out on his face.

“That's a great idea, Barnes!” They got to work flipping over every piece of furniture they could, a harmless little prank.

“Let's get out of here before we get caught.” They slipped out of the room and moved on with the tour. Drake brought her into a grand library, books in every direction, old frescos painted on the ceiling.

“Wow.” Emma slowly rotated and took in the full beauty of the room. Drake strolled along the shelves, running his hand over the spines. Drake's shoulder bumped a pillar and Emma began to hear a series of clicks and whirs before a panel in the wall swung open.

“This way Barnes.” He led her into an old stone passage.

“Where does this lead to?”

“Nowhere. I used it as my secret hideout as a kid. Whenever I wanted some time to myself I would come here. Nobody knows about it, not even Liam.”

“Why show me then? Why not keep it your little secret?”

“I figured with everything going on, you might want a break. You can come hideout here whenever you want Emma.”

“You called me Emma again.”

“I guess I did,” his eyes lit up again, “that was the secret! Your name. This is cooler though.” He gestured at the passage around them.

“You should still tell me the secret though. You call everyone by their first names but me. Why call me, Barnes?”

Drake sat down, his eyes kind of staring off into space.

“I didn't want to like you, I didn't want to get close to you when you first got here. You're you though, after that, I was trying to hide how I felt about you. It just kind of stuck I guess, now it's our thing. Reserved for you and me. It feels weird calling you Emma.” He chuckled.

“Thank you for telling me, Drake.” He grinned.

“Thank you for coming on the exclusive Drake Walker secret tour, this concludes it.”

“I'd give it two stars,” Drake looked genuinely hurt, “I'm teasing Drake. Five stars. It was perfect.” Drake bowed and lead her out of the passage, making sure to close the door behind them. He escorted her to her room and stopped, swaying slightly.

“Maybe next time I can give you a tour of my room. An exclusive tour.” Drake's eyes widened as the realization of what she meant hit him.

“Why not right now?” He leaned in and Emma could clearly smell the whiskey on his breath.

“You're drunk Drake. You're the one who said you wanted our first time to be special, we should hold off.” She gently put her hands on his chest. Drake sighed.

“You're right. I'll see you tomorrow, Barnes.” He gave her a soft kiss and stumbled away to his own room.

Emma was exhausted as she collapsed onto her familiar bed at the palace. Despite everything that had happened on the train, Emma had a nice end to her night.

Tag List: @princesstopgun @choicesyouplayandmore @leelee10898 @speedyoperarascalparty @brightpinkpeppercorn @indigo39 @furiousherringoperatortoad @agent-bossypants

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unyieldingvalxr · 5 years

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Samuel Tallmadge & Mashka:

@moretreasurewithin continued from X

Ivan Petrovich. It was an alias gifted to him by a Romanov. An alias that should have remained buried in the dirt outside of the Ipatiev House in Yekaterinburg. His autonomic response was to seek out the person from whose mouth, the name had fallen. For the timbre executing every syllable was vaguely familiar. His azure eyes which had once danced with jovial glee had dimmed into something predating a midnight sky- a deep sorrowful navy. He too, was a mere hollow shadow of a soldier and spy.

Could it be? His favorite? His Mashka? It had to be. The face, whilst changed, beheld the same splendor of the girl he had known and rescued from the Bolsheviks. Scarred, calloused hands extend to her although they dare not touch her for fear she’d wither away into the mist of another cloudy night.

He despises the reply he must give in return to her inquiry almost as much as he hates the ill memories that revive in his mind. But Samuel has never been one to tarnish the truth with lies, if it could be avoided. There’d be no sense in giving her false hope only to endure the trial of watching someone else snuff the hope from her eyes. “Yes.” His word wavers with agony. “I can not lie to you. You are the lone survivor, your grace.” Samuel’s head hangs with shame.

There is a story that lingers upon the bridge of his lips, though it can not quite manage to drop over the eaves. The loud undaunted roar of guns, the incessant shouting in Russian tongue, the blood….

oh the seamlessly unending scarlet river…..

His old battle wounds rip open afresh. Although not all of them were genuinely visible. “They…” His voice hushed, burdened by the onslaught of stimulation in his mind. He clears his throat so that he may make clear his experience. “The Bolsheviks had already done a good deal of damage by the time I returned for the others. There wasn’t much I could do.” He keeps it simple. Devoid of details, for in those qualifiers he desired to drown. Good conscience be damned! “Someone had divulged my cover and the Secret Police of the Red Guard were lying in wait for me.” Samuel could not and would not boast of bravery. Even though he offered a valiant effort to reach the suffering Nastya. But his efforts alone had not been enough to thwart the evil. She had taken her last breath just out of reach of his trembling hands.

Nine grueling years of imprisonment had led him here. Samuel had not been without wondering if Mashka had lived a better life, if she had survived past the borders of the Russian lines. But he offers a meek smile. For she had. “I do not regret saving you. I only regret that I had failed the others.” In truth, saving the Grand Duchess had been his one salvation during his imprisonment. He had proudly repaid her kindness by standing in the way of her assassination. Russia had one lingering ray of hope… an heiress of an Empire nearly decimated.

“Let me at least look at you,” he entreats in a gentle tone. Time, it seems, had been far kinder to her countenance than his own.

#tw: blood #tw: death #moretreasurewithin #muse: Samuel Tallmadge #Alias: Ivan Petrovich #unyieldingvalxr #tw: mentions of guns #Okay but lets be real Samuel only survived because of his faith and because he was liberated by enemies of Russia #the only reason they left him alive that long is because they thought he'd tell them where Maria was. He refused and swore he'd go to his #grave with that secret #And he would have too #tw: longish reply #AND HOLY TASH_IVCH that got long #don't worry about matching length #OOPS MY HAND SLIPPED #HAAAPPPPY ANNGSTING

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pvrestwolff · 6 years

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---- pleased to meet you, hope you guess my name; but what's puzzling you is the nature of my game.

trident’s task 000; a detailed introduction.

---- basic information

full name: ekaterina mikhailovna aliena zamolodchikova-markovy. pronunciation: yeh-kah-ti-ree-nah // mik-hail-ovna // a-lye-na // zamol-ohd-chkova // m-ah-rk-oh-fi. meaning: ekaterina ( the name ekaterina is a russian name, the meaning is ‘pure’ ), mikhailovna ( the name mikhailovna is a russian name, the meaning is ‘daughter of mikhail’ ), aliena ( the name aliena is a belarusian and latin name, the meaning is ‘foreign’ or ‘stranger’ ), zamolodchikova ( the name zamolodchikova is a russian name, the meaning is ‘bold and dashing female’ ), markovy ( the name markovy is a russian and serbian name, the meaning is ‘of Mars, the god of war’ ) reasoning: ekaterina was named for a dear friend of natallia’s, while her first middle name came from her father, and her second came from natallia’s oldest sister anastasia’s middle name, the original heir to the throne. her last names are her father’s and her mother’s respectively. nickname(s): kati, kat, nina, erica. preferred name(s): ekaterina or erica, but she does not mind certain nicknames from certain people. birth date: january 11th 1988. age: thirty. zodiac: capricorn // rabbit yang fire or tiger yin fire. gender: female. pronouns: she/her. romantic orientation: platonipandemiromantic. sexual orientation: platonipansexual. nationality: belarusian, russian. ethnicity: caucasian, ashkenazi jewish. current location: tulach island. living conditions: mediocre, living in the tulach house. title(s): crown princess of belarus, princess, belarus’ heir, grand duchess of vitebsk, the demon queen of minsk (colloquial),

---- background

birth place: the palace of snov, minsk, belarus. hometown: minsk, belarus. social class: royalty, upper. education level: masters degree. father: mikhail zamolodchikov-markovy. mother: natallia zamolodchikova-markovy. adopted?: no. sibling(s): two younger sisters and one younger brother. birth order: eldest. children: none. pet(s): daisy (maltese shih-tzu) and jay (labrador kelpie). other important relatives: tatiana nikolaevna ( cousin ), anya nikolaevna ( cousin ), ainsley dùghlas ( cousin ), alexander romanov-nikolaevna ( uncle ), nataliya kashkanov-nikolaevna ( aunt ), gavin dùghlas ( uncle ) and anastasia markovy-dùghlas ( aunt ). ( @tatiana-nikolaevna, @anyanik, @hrhxainsley ) previous relationships: charles flanagan ( first crush, murder accomplice ), grace thomas ( ex-girlfriend ), luka rossi ( ex-lover ) and unnamed prince ( ex-lover ). ( @classiciisms, @luka-rossi )

---- skills & abilities

physical strength: exceptionally strong for her size, she’s quite good at the salmon ladder and deadlifts. teamwork: she can and will butt heads with strong personalities or stupid people, but always works to reach the goal. talents: running, swordplay, fencing, knife handling, gun-handling, hand-to-hand combat, martial arts, ballroom dancing, adaptability, interpersonal skills, sketching, linguistics, communication, cryptography, symbology, and bdsm. shortcomings: intrapersonal skills, trust issues, manipulative. language(s) spoken: belarusian ( first language ), russian ( first language ), ukrainian, english, italian, french, gaelic, yiddish, hebrew, latin. drive?: yes for a car, yes for a motorcycle. ride a bicycle?: yes. swim?: yes. play an instrument?: piano, violin. play chess?: yes. pick a lock?: yes.

---- physical appearance & characteristics

face claim: lyndsy fonseca. eye color: blue, with a hazel ring around the pupil. hair color: honey brown hair type/style: thin and soft but abundant, naturally curly, normally sits at shoulder length but has gone uncut since being on the island. dominant hand: right, though when she was younger attempted to become ambidextrous. height: 5′4″. weight: 135lbs, but has lost muscle and weight since being on the island. exercise habits: every other day, early morning, erica would normally go for a 5km run outside. depending on her schedule, she will also practice either her fencing, her martial arts, go to the gym for strength training. the mornings she does not run she will spend her time doing yoga. skin tone: tan/olive. tattoos: a tiger on her left middle finger, a butterfly on the back of her neck, four birds on her left forearm, a sun and two stars behind her right ear, a tree on the right of her torso and hermes wings on the outsides of both her ankles. piercings: firsts, seconds, belly button, right ear helix. marks/scars: what look like straight and accurate cuts all over her body from her training, the scars are on her arms in particular, though they have faded and are not immediately noticeable. notable features: eyes, lips, hands, legs, ass. usual expression: resting bitch face. clothing style: neat blouses, skirts, heels, vests, a jacket, comfortable pants and the heaviest boots she can find. jewelry: none. allergies: none. body temperature: her body is warmer than most, and as a result environments feel much colder for her. diet: strict vegetarian, also tends to avoid eating eggs or smoking cigarettes that use castoreum when she can. physical ailments: short-sightedness, astigmatisms.

---- psychology

mbti type: entj-t ( the commander ) or istj-t ( the logistician ). //** technically untypable due to borderline personality disorder. enneagram type: type 8w7 ( the challenger, wing is the enthusiast ). moral alignment: chaotic neutral, borders on chaotic evil at times. temperament: choleric. element: earth. primary intelligence type: linguistic, logical, kinesthetic, musical. approximate IQ: 135, superior intelligence. mental conditions/disorders: borderline personality disorder, minor depression, obsessive-compulsive tendencies and sociopathic tendencies, sociability: usually an observer, cold until she can trust people and often uses a façade and flattery to win people over for her own benefit. emotional stability: no. obsession(s): looking after her weaponry, literature and keeping organised notes on everything in her life. compulsion(s): neatness. phobia(s): autophobia, atychiphobia, atelophobia. addiction(s): currently -- nicotine, alcohol and caffeine. previously -- cocaine and mdma. prone to violence? yes.

---- mannerisms

speech style: while speaking in languages she is fluent in, ekaterina speaks quickly and smoothly, but while speaking in english, she can converse well but not as quickly, she may pause to find the correct word or misuse idioms, sayings or phrases. accent: a mix of belarusian and russian, which has softened after staying in english speaking countries long enough. quirks: smoothing down dog-eared pages of books, running her fingers along the rim of glasses she is drinking from, hyper-focusing on work that must be done until it is finished, giving people special nicknames and standing on top of buildings to stargaze. hobbies: exercising, fencing, martial arts, reading, playing piano, exploring new places, sketching, creating/using ciphers for her journals, assassinations and murder. habits: adjusting her glasses constantly ( when she wears them ), flexing her hands, switching between languages and sharpening her knives ( when she has them ). nervous tics: running her fingers through her hair, tapping her middle finger and her thumb together and disassembling and reassembling her guns ( when she has them ). drives/motivations: power, ambition, freedom, justice, duty and loyalty. fears: rejection, failure, losing her loved ones and being totally alone. positive traits: rational, adaptable and powerful. negative traits: sadistic, manipulative and ruthless. sense of humor: dark and sarcastic. do they curse often? yes.

---- favourites

activity: swordplay and fencing. animal: tigers and bluebirds. beverage: anything alcoholic. otherwise, coffee. book: the great gatsby by f. scott fitzgerald, frankenstein by mary shelley, do androids dream of electric sheep? by philip k. dick, the elenium by david eddings, the hogfather by terry pratchett, his dark materials by philip pullman, the wizard of oz by frank l. baum, alice in wonderland by lewis carroll, the illuminae files by amie kaufman and jay kristoff, the starbound trilogy by amie kaufman and meagan spooner and inkheart by cornelia funke. color: purple and gold. food: strawberries, or any type of berry. flower: tiger lily. gem: rainbow moonstone. holiday: new year’s eve. mode of transportation: motorcycle. movie: reservoir dogs, kill bill, jeux d’enfants, indiana jones, monty python, studio ghibli, anastasia, fight club, pulp fiction and the princess bride. musical artist: stevie wonder, the four tops, the supremes, phil collins, no doubt, gwen stefani, tatu, pvris, bastille, sia, the beatles, andrew belle, the temptations and fleetwood mac. quote/saying: “we know what we are, but know not what we may be.” scenery: forests. scent: petrichor, strawberry and coffee, sport: fencing, lacrosse and soccer. television show: she doesn’t watch tv. weather: cloudy and mild.

---- attitudes

greatest dream: denying her claim to the belarusian throne and experiencing true freedom. greatest fear: rejection, failure, losing her loved ones, being totally alone and ascending to the throne. most at ease when: drinking, smoking and reading a book. least at ease when: powerless, weak and when she does not know something she feels she should. worst possible thing that could happen: her entire family is killed because of her actions. biggest achievement ( to date ): managing to maintain a semi-normal relationship with grace and reducing crimes in belarus through deals with members of organised criminal syndicates. biggest regret: allowing charlie to disappear from her life, manipulating the two princes and ruining her first betrothal. most embarrassing moment: ekaterina does not do embarrassing things. biggest secret: she finds special pleasure in killing those who deserve it. top priorities: self-preservation, freedom, protecting loved ones.

#task000 #//** THIS TOOK ME A DAY TO FILL OUT #♛ [ ** 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 ⁎⁎ ] PRINCESS EKATERINA #trident;task #☾ [ ** 𝘢 𝘱𝘶𝘻𝘻𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘹𝘪𝘵𝘺 ⁎⁎ ] TASKS

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thunderstaruniversalenterprises · 4 years

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Ch 1 Once Upon a Time