#or maybe i’ve been watching too much ‘the crown’ and becoming increasingly depressed by the monarchy

[htylmg]

god i rlly did give up on my tma relisten like 1/3 through huh. guess im gonna have to resume that tmrw

[the-quiet-winds]

Don’t Look Back at this Crumbling Fool (part one)

did you ask for a sad fic? no. am i giving you one anyway? yes. another co-written piece with the amazing @ichlugebulletsandcornnuts, and this one has a lot of feels in it.

trigger warning for hateful words and self-deprecation

[Part 1: Think of Me in the Depths of Your Despair]

as their band became more and more popular, the demand for some kind of album grew, and eventually their manager got everything in place for each of the queens to record their songs, and then after several months of remastering and audio mixing the album was finally complete. a few days before the physical copy was released, each track was also released on YouTube, a website that katherine had become increasingly familiar with during her time in the 21st century. that morning, katherine loads up youtube and finds one specific song in particular. jane’s angelic voice fills the air as katherine turns up the volume as loud as it’ll go, unable to stop herself from smiling as she hears her mum’s voice.

jane walks past her bedroom and pokes her head around the door. “that loud enough for you?” she teases. katherine smiles honestly.

“i’ve got to make sure everyone hears how amazing my mum is.”

jane laughs at that. she enters the room, taking a moment to admire the instrumentals and harmonies in her song, before plopping a kiss on her daughter’s forehead. “i bet you sound even better,” she teases.

only a few short days later, jane’s enthusiasm for the album plummeted.

she is watching a video that katherine had sent her, one of their affectionately called “megasix” at the end of the show, when her own song shows up in the “suggested” bar. unable to resist, she clicks on it, and the recognizable piano starts. transfixed by the voice that somehow was hers, she doesn’t realize she is scrolling down the page. then, she sees it.

some fellow named “jack of none master of all” left a comment:

“worst song on the soundtrack. cheesy, overemotional, really weak compared to the others. guess every album has to have one flop, ain’t it a bit ironic it came from henry’s worst wife? snivelling and weak in this life, cruel and manipulative in the last. surrounded by honest, strong women as she is, it’s too obvious that jane seymour is the worst of the six.”

the words sting, and jane’s eyes widen slightly as she reads the comment. ‘is that really what other people thought of the song?’ she wonders to herself. she tries to forget about it, clicks another video of them all singing together, but she can’t get her mind off the comment. it wasn’t just what they said about the song that hurt her, but what they said about her herself; she’d already been worried about people thinking she was boring, that her story wasn’t exciting enough, and the second part of the comment seems to confirm her fears.

katherine enters the room humming Heart of Stone and jane feels a jolt at the tune, frowning suddenly and looking down at the screen.

“hey mum!” katherine greets chipperly. at seeing her mother’s less-than-enthusiastic response, she mellows. “what’s up?”

jane fights an internal battle in the span of three seconds. she wants to show katherine the comment and ask ‘is this how everyone feels?’ but that just feels shallow somewhere deep down.

“nothing love, just a bit tired, that’s all. two shows yesterday,” she leans back and stretches, “takes a lot out of your ol’ mum.”

“oh yeah,” katherine nods, taking a seat at the other end of the couch. “i get it. it was a really cool crowd last night, though, wasn’t it? i spoke to these two girls after the show and they were telling me all about how much they loved it!”

jane can’t help herself, and she finds herself leaning back and casually asking, “oh, that’s lovely, what did they say?” she tries to tell herself that she’s just making conversation, that she wasn’t trying to fish for information about what people thought of her song, but the anxiousness that filters into her brain while waiting for katherine to reply tells a different story.

“they couldn’t stop talking about me and boleyn, can you believe it?” katherine gushes. “they said that they died laughing during her song and they thought mine was super deep.” she stopped to contemplate. “they loved the last two numbers, and one of them said that parr had such a cool story, while the other said aragon easily would have ‘kicked henry’s arse’,” she quoted with a laugh. she doesn’t notice how none of the commentary pertains to her mum, and the slight fall of the woman’s face upon that realization.

jane can’t help but pick up on the fact that she wasn’t mentioned, and it all adds to her slowly building pile of evidence that maybe she was the worst one, that her song wasn’t as interesting or as good or genuinely emotional as the other queens. after all, after katherine spilling her heart out to the audience and parr offering them a moment of deep reflection, who would even remember a song about jane’s son? her mind whirs with activity, but on the outside she simply offers a slightly strained smile. “how sweet of them to be so kind about the show,” she says.

in hindsight, katherine would pinpoint that exact half-hearted smile as the moment that foresaw every event to follow that evening. in the moment, however, she saw nothing out of the ordinary.

their dressing room was a quiet din of activity, one thing that katherine loved. it's just her, her mum, and parr, so there's usually just low conversations and songs to be heard, mixed with the boisterous noise of aragon, boleyn, and cleves across the hall.

"places, queens!" the director calls, and parr makes her way to the hall knowingly. jane, as she does every night, pulls katherine into a tight hug. "mum loves you, kitty-kat," she murmurs the familiar words without a thought, "in this life or any other."

the show starts as it generally would, huge applause after the first number, aragon's song getting everyone dancing in their seats, boleyn's has them in in stitches...then it's jane's turn. she starts to sing the achingly familiar melody, feeling more insecure about herself than ever before. just moments into the second verse, she looks up and sees one audience member yawn dramatically to his date, who chuckles. every previous feeling jane had of inadequacy bubbles to the surface, and she lowers her mic, nods once to the audience, then walks off the stage, leaving five queens and four band members confused. cleves, desperate to not let it stop the show, immediately launches into her monologue, playing off jane's sudden exit with a joke.

katherine watched helplessly as jane leaves the stage, unsure of what to do. if she left the stage with her number coming up then she’d potentially end up messing up the rest of the show, but if she stayed then jane would be backstage by herself. the worst part was that katherine didn’t know what happened to make jane leave the stage. she shoots a glance at the other queens; they were about to leave the stage to get their neon ruffs, and katherine makes up her mind right then that she wouldn’t be coming back on without jane.

as she gets backstage she ignores her ruff and sunglasses, instead slipping past the surprised backstage manager who attempts to stop her. katherine ignores the frantic whisper for her to come back, and she follows the glimpse of a black and white dress disappearing around the doorway to the dressing rooms.

parr presses a few fingers to her forehead as she sees katherine dart off into the dark. this show is going to be one to remember. she hears the manager whisper-shouting to grace, the swing for when any of the women were absent from the show, that she was going on for howard.

"mum!" katherine hisses as she follows her down the corridor. "mum!" either jane doesn't hear or is ignoring her (katherine hopes it is the first one) and closes the door to their dressing room with a surprising amount of force. katherine knocks quietly, yet firmly, and keeps her lips very close to the door. "mum what's going on?"

there’s silence from the other side of the door, before a strained voice on the other side speaks. “kat, get back to the stage,” jane says, voice thick with emotion. “you’re going to miss your song.”

“i’m not going anywhere,” katherine shakes her head. “please, can i come in?”

katherine could be incredibly stubborn when she wanted to be, and jane knows this. she knows that if she refused, kat would just sit outside the door and wait until jane inevitably had to let her and parr back in to change out of their costumes. the sound of a lock clicking fills the air and katherine opens the door, entering the dressing room and closing the door behind her.

her mother looks a mess.

her makeup is smudged, lipstick and mascara creating a horrible caricature, her shoes and mic-pack are discarded, and jane looks some horrid combination of angry and depressed. the monitor on the wall blares to life as haus of holbein starts, and jane immediately goes over and shuts it all the way down, resisting the urge to throw something at it. “you should be on stage,” jane finally says, not meeting katherine’s eyes.

“well, i’m not,” katherine says simply, as if that was the end of it. “you should be onstage too, y’know.”

“i’m aware, katherine,” jane half-huffs, still looking anywhere except katherine’s eyes. kat takes a step towards her, concern filling her features.

“mum, why did you leave like that? did something happen?” her voice is soft and worried.

"i am absolutely fine, katherine," jane hisses. she hates that she's taking out her anger on kat, who dropped the show and is going to get a lot of heat from the director just to be with her. jane feels so incredibly frustrated that she can't even think straight. needing to burn off some of the energy, she picks up one of her shoes and hurls it. it collides with her mirror, sending shattered pieces of glass raining to the ground. jane runs a hand roughly through her hair, knocking off her crown as she digs her nails into her scalp. "everything is perfectly fine."

katherine jumps at the shattering of glass and her eyes widen. “mum-” she starts, before pausing. “it- it doesn’t seem like everything’s fine.” Her voice comes out a lot more timid than she intended, but it scares her, seeing jane like this. she swallows and stands slightly taller, reaching a hand out to gently touch jane’s arm. “please, mum, you can talk to me. i want to help, if I can.”

jane pulls back. she tries to take a calming breath but nothing helps. she just feels so angry and humiliated and is taking it out on her poor daughter who just wants to help. “katherine howard seymour,” she says in a low voice, “i’d recommend you leave before i say something i really, really regret.”

a chill runs down katherine’s spine, her stomach twisting slightly. “i don’t want to go,” she says, and her voice is small and weak, sounding like a lost child. “please, mum.”

she doesn’t know what to do. she’s never seen her mum quite like this before; she’s seen her upset, even angry, but not so irrationally angry that she’d break the things around her.

plus, jane never extended katherine’s name like that. it was always kat, or kitty-kat, or any number of affectionate nicknames, but never her full name. she doesn’t want to go, she wants to stay and make things better, but then jane turns to her, and the look in her eyes terrifies katherine.

jane walks over to the monitor and flips it on, listening for just a moment, before flipping it off again. they were just about to finish haus of holbein. she can’t face katherine like this, anger and jealousy and mountains of insecurity swirling in her stomach, so she faces away, shoulders hunched, voice still dangerously low. “go do your number, we will deal with this later, katherine.”

katherine doesn’t want to go, she really doesn’t, but she doesn’t know what else to do. “okay,” she says quietly, voice cracking slightly. “i- i love you, mum,” she adds as a desperate reassurance. she didn’t want jane to think she was abandoning her or anything, and her heart hurts as she turns around and leaves the dressing room. she tries to blink back the tears as she races back towards the stage, almost bumping into grace in her haste. grace looks relieved and calls the backstage manager over, who shoots katherine a look that’s a cross between thankful and angry before shooing her onto the stage with the others just in time for the intro to Get Down. katherine can’t concentrate during Cleves’ number, feet moving on autopilot, looking less like a video vixen and more like a lost child. her mind is back in the dressing room with jane, regretting giving in and leaving, giving anything to not be so scared and pathetic as to leave her mum alone back there.

jane lets out a shuddering sigh as katherine leaves, waits a second, then bursts into angry and upset tears. she curls up on herself, then ends up in a ball on the floor. the monitor on the wall is still lowly humming, and jane, through her tears, hears the familiar intro to all you wanna do. there’s a pain in katherine’s voice that makes jane hurt worse, a tremble in the high notes that jane knows she is the cause of. all she can do is lay on the floor, dangerously close to the mound of broken glass, and relish in being “the worst of henry’s wives.”

it’s ironic, in a way, how the pain that jane caused her daughter comes through in her voice, makes her song even more intense and emotional, and at the end jane can hear the audience screaming and cheering and applauding louder than ever for katherine. a terrible, bitter jealousy flows through jane at the sound and she hates herself for it, hates that she could ever feel such negativity even momentarily towards sweet, darling kat, who only wanted to help her. jane supposes this is about what she deserves; it’s not even like jane suffered at henry’s hands, at least, not nearly as badly as the others had. why should she get to share in their show at all?

as parr starts telling her story, she  feels that bitter rush again. parr speaks so eloquently, and singing makes it even better and more poignant. they start to talk, grace filling jane’s spot, and her already fragile sense of self crumbles further. she feels absolutely worthless, a story that doesn’t matter, a piece of wood amongst jewelry. it hurts, hurts horribly. she closes her eyes and tries to tune out the chipper ukulele sound as the group number starts.

she lies there for a few more moments, trying to block out the sound, before letting out a sigh. she supposes she should leave before the other queens get offstage; she can’t face them like this, not with the negativity running through her. she finally gets to her feet and changes into her regular clothes, slipping her shoes on and grabbing her bag as she hears the last note of the final song over the monitor. going for a walk to cool off seems like a good idea to her right now. she makes her way to the stage door quickly, slipping out as quietly as possible and setting off down the street.

[bobasheebaby]

On the Tree Tops- When Fairytales Break chapter 3

Pairing: Liam x MC; Bastien x MC

Word count: 2,562

Warnings: angst, hospital setting, past cheating

Summary: Bastien’s POV we’ve seen Everly’s now we see Bastien’s. Memories and health issues. 

A/N: I blame my muse and PB. My first thought when I saw the cover for TRR4 was “what if the baby comes out looking like Bastien?” My muse took this to a kinda dark place. A huge thank you to @stopforamoment who helped me figure out how to make what I wanted happen and figure out the rest of the series including how to finish this chapter. 

Series warnings: dark, depression, feeling of being trapped, past cheating, cheating, may go NSFW. By asking to be tagged you acknowledge you are at least 18 years of age and can handle the content. 

Let me know if you want to be added or removed from my taglist.

Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters, I’m borrowing them. 

So, do it. Decide. 

Is this the life you want to live? 

Is this the person you want to love? 

Is this the best you can be? 

Can you be stronger? 

Kinder? More Compassionate? 

Decide. 

Breathe in. 

Breathe out and decide.

— Meredith Grey

Bastien sat in his chair, his favorite spot to read or relax, only this time it was anything but relaxing. He held a tumbler of Scotch, his eyes trained ahead as he became lost in thought. He knew he shouldn’t have gone to check on her, it would only add to the pain of being kept apart. Except he needed to ensure she was alright, he had become increasingly worried as he noticed her leave her quarters less and less in the months since she became Liam’s wife, became Queen. 

Bastien’s heart had broken when he’d seen her in the royal quarters. The day Liam said he’d be leaving Bastien to care for her he knew she was in trouble. She looked so sad, broken, her eyes were haunted, she was but a shell of who she was. If I had listened to her, run away with her she wouldn’t be this broken. He took a sip of his drink, relishing in the burn down his throat, if only it could burn away his pain. He didn’t understand how Liam could be so blind to the significant change in Everly. She’s right, he’s never seen the real her to know the difference. 

Bastien rested his glass down on the table to his left. His right hand reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket, still wrinkled from where her hands gripped the fabric, clinging to him. He pulled out a folded piece of paper. He carefully unfolded it, gently smoothing it out against his thigh. The paper was fading well before it’s time from the frequent folding and unfolding it was treated to. His stormy grey eyes filled with tears as he gazed at the picture, his fingers gingerly tracing the lines of her face. Oh Evie, I can’t protect you when I already failed you. 

Bastien allowed himself to be transported back in time. Back to when he would see a smile gracing her beautiful face every day. Back when there was hope for them. Back when they were both happy. He could see the woman in the picture clear as day as if it had happened just days before instead of months prior. 

He’d taken her to the lake that most of the inhabitants of the palace, royalty and workers alike, weren’t aware existed. As head of the royal guard he knew the grounds and every secret they held. Everly stood with her face tilted up towards the sun, her hands holding her hair up, a few stray strands floating into her face. She looked so hauntingly angelic he couldn’t resist taking a picture of her. 

“I’d say take a picture it will last longer, but you already did.” She teased turning to look at him after the distinctive click of the shutter was heard. 

Bastien smiled stuffing his phone back into his pocket. “I can’t help that you’re so gorgeous that I can’t stop staring.” He slipped his arms around her waist. 

Everly smiled up at him, her grass green eyes sparkling brightly as if they contained a million stars. “Does that mean I get a free pass at staring at you?” She ran her hands up his chest, slipping her arms his neck. She tangled her fingers in the hair at the base of his neck as she pulled him down for a kiss.

Bastien broke the kiss smiling. He’d never felt happier than when he was with her. “You can look at me whenever you want Evie.” 

“Good, I was going to anyways.”

Bastien chuckled. God he loved her. He couldn’t wait until the season was over and he could be with her in the open. 

Bastien was broken from his memory by frantic banging on his door. He jumped up, photograph floating to the ground, forgotten as he quickly crossed the room throwing open the door. “You don’t need to keep banging—” He broke off when he saw Everly bent over, clutching her stomach with tears in her eyes. 

“Bas, I’m scared. Something’s wrong.” Everly cried, panic written on her face.

“It’ll be okay Evie. I’ve got you.” He said scooping her up into his arms. He radioed to have a SUV waiting as he raced through the halls. This can’t be happening, not to her. His heart pounded in his chest but he couldn’t allow panic to overtake him. She needed him to be strong in that moment. “We need to get to the hospital NOW!” He shouted as he approached the awaiting vehicle. He slid her in the back seat sliding in next to her, the driver taking off as soon as the door slammed shut. 

Everly clung to his arm as he removed his phone from his pocket dialing Liam. The line kept trilling until it finally switched over to voicemail. Bastien looked down at her as he listened, waiting for the beep. Her jaw was clenched as she gritted her teeth, one hand still clutching her stomach, the other gripping his forearm. Finally he heard the beep. “Your majesty, sir, it’s Queen Everly, she’s having stomach pains and I’m taking her to the hospital—”

“Ahhh.” Everly cried out in pain. “Bas I’m scared!” Her grip on his arm tightening.

Bastien dropped the phone just as he heard the message telling him how to re-record, his arms encircling her in a careful hug. “I know. I’ve got you. We’ll be there soon. Everything will be okay.” It has to be. She can’t take another thing going wrong. The scent of strawberries filled his senses as he kissed her crown. What are you doing, she’s not yours! 

Everly looked up at him with hollow tear filled eyes. “Is Liam coming?” 

“I don’t know Evie, but I’m here.”

“That’s cause your my white knight, always there for me when I need you.” Her face fell, remembering he wasn’t hers, not anymore, maybe not ever. 

They pulled up in front of the hospital, Bastien jumped out lifting Everly gingerly. He walked to the awaiting doctors, gently placing her on the gurney. Thank god someone called ahead. Normally that would have been his job but he was too focused on keeping Everly safe and calm. His mind raced as his feet blindly followed her to a private room. He gave her a rueful smile as they whisked her inside and he stood guard outside. It wasn’t his place to be inside, his place was here, keeping a watchful eye out for her. He straightened his suit jacket smoothing out the wrinkles the best he could. He stood, his back straight, hands clasped behind his back, blank expression on his face. Inside his mind and heart were racing. He hated leaving her in there terrified and alone, but it wasn’t his place to lend her comfort. 

***

A nurse walked out the room approaching him instead of walking past like the dozen times since Everly entered the room. “Sir, the queen requested to speak to you.”

“Of course, thank you.” Bastien replied. He entered the room, surprised by how small she looked laying in the bed. She was hooked up to an IV and had a strap running across the swell of her abdomen. He gave the machines a cursory glance as he moved further into the room. 

Everly smiled as she saw him. “Bas. Have you gotten ahold of Liam yet?” 

“Not yet.” Bastien watched as the sadness returned to her face. “Do they know anything yet?”

“Well they know I’m not in labor, so that’s good.” She pointed to the the strap across her belly. “This is keeping an eye on the heart rate.” 

“I’ll try to contact Liam again and let him know he’ll be relieved to hear that.”

“Don’t lie to me Bas. Please. We both know he should have answered by now. Or at least checked in, but he hasn’t.”

“I’m sorry Evie.”

Everly looked up at him with solemn eyes. “It is what it is.” She trained her eyes down as she fiddled with the edge of the stark white sheet. “I know you want to ask so just ask.”

Bastien looked at her, instantly knowing what she meant. “Evie, is it mine?”

Everly looked up at him, her lip quivering. “I honestly don’t know. I mean maybe. Probably.” She looked out the window. “I told him I was tired after, and we…”

“And we made love all night.”

Everly nodded sadly. “I don’t know what to do Bas. On one hand I want it to be yours, but then…” 

“Then Liam finds out.”

“Yea. I’m half hoping she’ll come out looking like one of you so I don’t have to figure out how to do a paternity test without him finding out. But then I don’t want to wait.”

“She?” 

Everly smiled. “She. The doctor told me when they checked her out via ultrasound. We were supposed to find out later this week, but then he went on the trip.” Her smile faltered. I’m all alone in this. “They gave me a picture. It’s on the tray there.”

Shit! He could have a child, a daughter. As much as he wanted a family with her, he worried what would happen if Liam found out about their relationship. It ended before they married, but it should have ended the moment she became the queen to be. He picked up the ultrasound, smiling softly at the image. He wasn’t sure if he wished she was his or Liam’s more. He wanted her to be his, but he needed Evie to stay safe. He was beginning to regret not running away with her more and more. 

“I picked a name.”

Bastien looked up from the ultrasound setting in back on the tray. “Tell me.”

“Alouette.” Everly replied rubbing her bump. “Perfect name for a little bird don’t you think?”

“It’s beautiful. It’s French for lark.” Bastien laid his hand on hers. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.” He said pulling his hand away. 

Everly’s smile fell. “It’s fine Bas. I want you too.” She grabbed his hand, placing in on her stomach. “Here.”

Bastien’s stormy grey eyes went wide as he felt a little thump against the palm of his hand. Is she mine? “Was that a kick?” His eyes trained intently on her growing bump. He felt oddly connected to baby growing in her. She has to be Liam’s. 

“Yea. I think she likes you.” Everly said smile meeting her eyes for the first time in months. Bastien knew what she was thinking but wouldn’t say, I think she knows who you are. “Bas, I know what I said but I don’t want to wait. I want to know now.”

“Evie, it’s too dangerous.”

“He’d find out anyway Bas. I just need to know. We can ask them while I’m here.” Everly looked up at him with pleading grass green eyes. “I can’t wonder anymore. We can have them send the results to you.”

“Okay Evie. We’ll find out. Maybe there will be nothing to worry about.” Bastien still didn’t know what answer he wanted. He knew that the baby being Liam’s would be easier, but is that what he wanted? When he’s felt her kick his hand he’d felt a subtle twinge of hope in his chest. He had immediately felt guilty, he didn’t want things to be harder for Evie. Aren’t things already bad if she’s this broken? Could she handle a lifetime knowing all they’d lost? Could he? He removed his hand from her stomach. “I should go back to my post.”

“Okay.” Everly said defeatedly. “Let me know if you get ahold of Liam please.” 

“I will Evie.” Bastien moved to kiss her forehead before remembering his place and pulling away.

Before Bastien could leave the doctor stepped into the room. “Your Majesty, I have your results.” He said giving her a bow.

“I keep begging you to call me Everly, please I don’t need any formalities.” She replied. 

Bastien had to stifle a chuckle, it was a small glimpse, but he saw the real Evie. The Evie he knew and loved. 

“Of course your— I’m mean Everly.” The Doctor stated glancing at Bastien.

“You may speak freely.” Everly said noticing the doctor’s hesitation. 

“Understood your— Everly. It appears you have a pretty serious urinary tract infection. We will start you on a round of antibiotics that are safe to clear it up.”

“So all that pain was from an infection?” Everly asked surprised. 

“Yes, UTI’s can be rather common during pregnancy due to everything being on top of everything else. That’s what can also cause the cramping.” The doctor explained. “I would like to keep you overnight to ensuring there are no complications or side effects for Cordonia’s future Queen.”

Everly grimaced. “Actually I was hoping to discretely have a prenatal paternity test done while I’m here. You can send the results to Bastien.” 

The doctor struggled to contain his surprise, eyes going wide. “Of course. Who shall we be comparing?”

“Bastien.”

“Understood. I will alert a nurse and we will get the test handled. It will be a few weeks until the results come back.” 

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” A flicker of an unknown emotion in the doctor’s eyes. He bowed before exiting the room.

“I’ll go and try to contact Liam again and update him on your condition.” Bastien said removing his phone from his pocket.

Everly nodded. “Bas can you come back and sit with me when you’re done? I don’t want to be alone.”

Bastien knew he should say no. He needed to keep his emotions and feelings out of it. “Of course.” He said before he exited the room, kicking himself for given into temptation. He needed to keep his distance, not stay close. As much as he missed her he knew it wasn’t meant to be. 

***

Bastien looked down at his phone, his jaw clenching as he reread the text. ‘Thank you for getting her care Bastien. As long as she’s fine I’m going to stay and handle this deal. Please keep me apprised of any and all changes.’ He keyed in his response, biting his tongue as not to say what he felt. You can’t come back for her? Again he found himself questioning why he had let her get away, denying them both of their happiness. 

“He’s not coming is he?” Everly asked her grass green eyes pleading with him to tell her she was wrong. She was inexplicably hurt by the fact that her husband couldn’t even call her to check on her. She felt even more broken than before, at least then she could pretend he cared. She knew she shouldn’t be surprised, he’d only be worried if something was wrong with little bird, his heir.

Bastien felt anger course through him. Liam was putting a deal over his own wife, own child. He doesn’t deserve her. His heart broke at the thought of telling her she was right. “No, he isn’t.” 

“Okay.” Everly said blinking back tears. 

Bastien took her hand giving it a comforting squeeze. “I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”

Feedback fuels me, please like, comment or reblog to let me know how much you like it. I can handle the screams, so scream away. 

Masterlist can be found in my bio.

Taglist will be reblogged.

[realityhelixcreates]

Lasabrjotr Chapter 12: Not So Great Expectations

Chapters: 12/? Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Warnings: Mentions of fear of sexual assault, blood, depression Relationships: Loki x Reader (But not yet) Characters: Loki (Marvel), Thor (Marvel), OFC, Andsvarr Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending, Reader is Still a Paranoid Conspiracy Theorist, Loki Tries, He Really Does Try Summary: The reality of Readers situation begins to catch up. As isolation and uncertainty begin to prey on Reader’s mind, Loki attempts to mitigate the situation with healthy activities. It doesn’t go as planned.

Days passed into weeks, but you never found your balance. Still being swept along, you attended history lessons, magical training, and regular check-ins. Everything blended into a blur, however, and you found it increasingly difficult to concentrate.

The pranks continued, small and unpredictable. Talking breakfast foods that left little messages from Loki, Andsvarr, or Saldis. Magical alarms playing out of thin air, to wake you in the mornings. Clothes that tickled you without warning. And always, more snakes.

They weren’t malevolent, but they were always unexpected, always startling and stressing you out.

There were still no more new books, so you read and re-read the few you had. The history and astronomy books were useful and educational, helping you understand your lessons, as well as the country you now lived in. The mythology book however, still caused distress and distrust in you, and the book of Shakespeare’s tragedies was even worse on your fraying mind. Nothing but gods and royalty being the worst they could be, as if it were normal.

You should have stopped reading them, but there was nothing else to read. With nothing to do, your thoughts ran in circles, spiraling down into ever darker places.

Both Loki and Brunnhilde became much busier as the weeks passed; your lessons ended up trickling off, leaving you bored and idle. For a while, you tried drawing to keep yourself busy, but the works showed the lack of vitality you now felt, and you eventually gave them up.

It was becoming harder to get out of bed. It wasn’t that you were getting sick again, just that you were sleeping more and more. It began to feel like that was the only way to make time actually move forward. Sometimes entire days went by without you sharing more than a handful of words with another living being. You still weren’t allowed to go outside.

What little time Loki did have for you was filled with exhausting magical lessons, which would have been impersonal and cold, save for his continued, perhaps increased tendency to get touchy-feely without asking.

Maybe he didn’t mean anything by it. Maybe that’s just how he was. Maybe he was just trying to make you feel like you belonged, despite all the stares you got whenever you left your bare, little room.

All it did was make you feel like he was prepping you for something terrible.

Everything around you smelled like him; his soap, his shampoo, whatever it was they washed your clothes with. You hadn’t worn anything that wasn’t green, black, or gold for almost a month.

You couldn’t confide in the Valkyrie; she was far too busy. There were new Valkyries now, and their training was taking up all her time. You couldn’t talk to Saldis or Andsvarr either; they were subjects of the monarchy, and unlikely to take your fears seriously.

So you were left mostly alone, spiraling down, and no one taking notice.

Days and nights passed, but the sun stopped setting, and you could no longer tell them apart. You should have found it amazing, but you only felt numb, with the occasional spike of anxiety.

Even your dreams were mostly empty, save for a pulsing blue light.

It gave you headaches.

                                                                                      *****

“Andsvarr, give me your honest opinion.” Loki said, just outside his quarters. “Do you think something is wrong with _____?”

“Wrong, your Highness?” The young guard asked, looking back at the closed door, as if he could see you behind it. “What kind of wrong? She doesn’t seem ill, but she’s been very…withdrawn? She doesn’t talk much anymore. I used to hear her singing when she was alone in there, but she hasn’t done it in a while. Come to think of it, she hasn’t asked for any food today…”

“Hm. Well we can’t have that. Bjarkhild will have my scalp if I don’t make her eat.”

“I think she is lonely, sire. She hasn’t left here for days, and she has no visitors. Saldis can’t ever stay long, and I can’t leave my post.”

“And I have been far too busy to pay her proper attention, hmm?”

Andsvarr faltered. “I-I would never say-“

“Hush. You’re not wrong. I have been busy. Did you know the builders found a series of subterranean chambers running under the city? They’re left over from lava floes, I’m told. They will be very useful, once fully mapped out and explored, but planning and regulation has been eating up most of my time. I wonder if she would like to see them?”

“She would probably like to do anything at all, my prince.”

“Hm. You are probably right. I’ll be right back with a meal. Our human musn’t be allowed to go hungry, after all.”

He returned with a tray of food, artistically arranged, with little radish and carrot flowers.

“I think this will cheer her up.”

Andsvarr grinned in approval and opened the door.

                                                                                      *****

 Loki had returned, after what seemed like an eternity away, just barging right into your room as if he owned the place. Well, he did. It wasn’t yours; he’d told you that on day one. The bed, the books, the clothes, none of this was yours. You had nothing.

He noticed you curled up in bed, though it was late in the day, and set the tray he was carrying down on the desk. You scrambled out of bed, loathe to make it easy for him to overtake you there, if he had finally decided to do so.

“Did I interrupt your nap?” He asked. God, he seemed to fill the room.  “My apologies. I hear you may have forgotten lunch, so I have taken care of that.” He gestured at the tray. “Enjoy.”

You stared at him silently, but he did not move. When it became clear he was not going to leave until you had eaten, you slouched over to the chair, and stared out the window, rather than look at him.

It raised the hair on your neck, knowing he was just looming behind you, watching you eat. He had provided you all your favorites, had made the meal beautiful to look at. You briefly wondered if you were supposed to eat the little vegetable flowers, deciding to do it anyway. You were a peasant, after all: food couldn’t go to waste.

You glanced at the window again, to see his reflection, faint against the neverending sunlight. Like a ghost, he stared down at you, hands behind his back, a self-satisfied smirk crossing his face. You looked away again, unsettled.

He leaned on the desk after you finished eating.

“Was it to your liking?” He asked. When his hand caressed your arm, it was so unexpected that you gasped and pulled away.

You hadn’t done that before. He drew his hand back, brows coming together in concern.

“Are you all right? Oh, have I truly neglected you so badly that you have forgotten me?” He joked. “Greetings _____, I am Loki, Crown Prince of Asgard. It is a great pleasure to meet you.”

He took your hand, and brought it to his lips. You yanked it away and turned your back.

“I’m s-sorry.” You stammered. It was horrible how much you had missed him, while still being so afraid of his ultimate intentions. “I’m just…not in the mood?”

Damnit, now you needed to work on your own phrasing.

You heard the door open and close quietly. When you finally turned around, both he and the tray were gone. You sighed in combined relief and regret. The room seemed so much emptier now.

So much safer.

                                                                        *****

 “Thor!” Loki exclaimed, rushing into their favored dining room. “I need to know how to make a Midgardian woman happy!”

Thor jumped up from his seat, a big, goofy grin overtaking his face.

“Brother-“ He began, opening his arms. Loki held up his hands to ward him off.

“Ugh, not like that! It’s _____, something is wrong with her. She seems distressed. I think she’s been forgetting to eat. I just brought her lunch, and she acted like she’d never seen me before! I haven’t been that distant, have I?”

He paced. “I know I’ve been busy these past weeks. Perhaps I should have made time. Well, what would you do?” He entreated his brother. No one else here had experience with human women.

“Making time is a good start.” Thor said, still smiling, but a little more serious.

Good, Loki thought. This is serious.

“She will want to know she hasn’t been forgotten. This is doubly important for someone in her position. Most other people, if you forget or neglect them, they can just leave. _____ is stuck, no matter how we treat her. So it becomes our responsibility to do a little extra for her sake.”

“My responsibility.” Loki said.

“I’m sure we can share. Take a little of the burden off of you.”

“Not necessary. I can handle this.”

“Oh, I see. Well, in that case, I would start setting aside time to spend with her, or time that she can spend with others. Just make sure she isn’t always alone. You and I both know what that can do to a person’s mind. If you want to take care of this all by yourself, then I suggest you take her outside. Show her the countryside, perhaps even take her into a town. If I’m remembering correctly, she is from a small town, yes? Full of farmers?”

“So she says. So you think she requires walking?”

“Loki…”

“Joking. Perhaps she likes horses?”

“That is a good train of thought. Follow that. After all we can’t have her…getting sick again?” He asked, trying to gauge Loki’s investment in your happiness.

“Exactly.” Loki said, just a little too fast. “That would be a disaster. I will make some plans then, try to squeeze in some _____-time between meetings.”

“Perfect. I’m sure she will be appreciative.” The brothers sat down to eat, Loki scheming, Thor still grinning, but not pushing any further. As far as he was concerned, everything was now on the right track.

                                                                                *****

Over the next few days, the little pranks changed rather drastically in nature. The ephemeral alarms changed from ringing to birdsong. There were no longer snakes in the bath; they had been replaced by water lilies. Perfume rose from your footsteps, and occasionally, flower petals rained down on you. The implications weren’t lost on you, but after reading Titus Andronicus for the tenth time, and revisiting the entries on Zeus’ many ‘conquests’, it only left a hollow little pit in your stomach.

Never be dependent on a man, you had told yourself, over and over. Not after the last time. And yet here you were again. Trapped. Utterly trapped.

Today’s  breakfast was beautiful. Eggs on toast. Strawberries, sliced, looking like little hearts. Skyr with lingonberry, which you adored. Little flower-shaped melon slices, and grapes. And the fish oil, of course, but you were getting used to that. The trick was to drink it first, and then follow it immediately with a drink of something else.

Today’s dress was also something special. It was much heavier than normal, a thick, plush wool, all green, sleeves gathered at the elbows, with diagonal pintucks all the way down the forearm, ending in asymmetrical hems at the wrist.

Well, that was Loki all over.

There was a full cloak, also green, with fur trim, and a golden yellow horse embroidered on the back. It had far too many legs, but you had read something about this. Odin’s horse, mentioned in passing in your mythology book, was supposed to have twice the normal number of horse legs.

Upon closer observation you noticed that, yes, this cloak was older than the dress, and had been hemmed to your height. You wondered who it had belonged to previously.

Such warm clothing. You could guess at what that meant, though you hardly dared hope.

Loki actually knocked this time, only entering when you said so. He too, was dressed warmly and finely. He paused a moment to take you in. He seemed pleased with what he saw, and you resisted the urge to back away from him.

“Ah, good. You’re dressed. That suits you very well. You may have surmised by now that we are going on a trip outside. If not; surprise, we are going on a trip outside. Tell me, do you like horses?”

Back home, there had been a woman who ran a farm mostly by herself. It was rumored that she was gay, but you didn’t care. As a child, all that mattered was that she had horses, and she was very nice to all the kids, and she taught you all how to ride the horses. She’d moved away very suddenly, years ago.

You nodded. “Yeah, horses are good. I can ride, if that’s what you mean.”

“Glad to hear it! Come with me. We shall go out riding.”

That sounded very nice; a simple ride through town-or what there was of it. You eagerly followed him, as he retrieved a cloth-wrapped bundle and lead you out of the Main Building. It wasn’t exactly what you would call a castle or palace, but you weren’t sure what to call a city hall that also housed rulers.

On the East side of the building, where you had never yet been, was a very large yard full of tiny flowers, purple and white. Under the undying sun, they flourished. Oh, to be like these flowers again!

To walk among the vast cornfields of home, to be in a garden, to even have just your houseplants again!

After what felt like so long stuck inside, bored, idle, and paranoid, being outside, with the noise, the air, the sun, the colors; it was a little overwhelming, and very exciting.

The stables held a variety of horses, and stablehands, who looked at you warily and gripped their tools a bit tighter. Loki said something to them, sending them all back to their business, and, aside from a few curious stares, they no longer seemed to care that you were there.

Loki’s horse was huge, black, elegant and beautiful, because of course it was. The horse you were introduced to was not exactly beautiful, but she was very cute. Small and stocky, extra fuzzy, with a short, shaggy mane. She was friendly, and accepted you with a placid manner; all the better, since it had been years since you had ridden, and needed to get the feel for it again.

Side by side, though very different in height, you both wandered through the city. People stopped to observe their prince and his strange guest as you passed. You briefly wondered how often Asgardian royalty had to deal with things like rebellions or assassination attempts. Loki had brought no guards with him, not even Andsvarr. He was either very secure in the belief that his people loved him, or very secure in the belief that he could handle anything thrown at him.

He steered you into one of the less finished parts of town; full of skeletal buildings, and empty homes. The further you went, the less developed the land became, just disturbed earth and roads marked with sticks and string. Before you knew it, you were passing the perimeter fence, and meandering into the countryside.

The beauty of the landscape was enthralling. Mountains rose in the distance, the low vegetation bursting with flowers. Before you knew it, the city had disappeared behind you, and the two of you were lost amidst the rugged terrain.

Loki stopped you near a copse of pine trees-the first real trees you had seen since coming here- and helped you dismount. Confused as to why you were stopping, you watched as he dismantled the bundle and laid it out: a blanket, and a basket of food.

A blanket on the ground, near the only trees in the area. Far from the city, where no one could see you or hear you. Where no one could come to your aid. The pit in your stomach opened up again, deeper than ever before.

So this was it, then? This was when he would take you? You sucked in a shuddering breath, fists clenched as he set out plates and little portions of fruits and cheeses. He was even humming softly to himself, not even seeming to notice you trying to steel yourself to the oncoming horrors.

He patted the blanket next to him. What could you do? You couldn’t run. You couldn’t leave. All you could do right now was sit.

He handed you a plate, gazing gently down at you. It chilled your blood. But it seemed he was going to let you eat first. Perhaps you could just eat really, really slowly.

Maybe it would go easier for you if you just focused on his good points? He did have them, after all. He was incredibly beautiful, for one. Of course you had noticed. Graceful and regal, and he always presented himself very well. He kept clean and well-groomed, and he always smelled nice.

Yes, think of that. Think of how clever he was, how much he knew and had seen. How strong he was, how powerful. How easily he could lift you up. Or pin you down.

No, don’t think of that.

Think of his sense of humor, and how softly he touched you. Maybe you could convince him to be gentle?

“Are you cold? You’re shaking. Here, do you need my cloak?” He draped it across your shoulders, placing his arms around you casually. Finally, your temper caught up with your fear.

You reared up on your knees, throwing off the cloak and scattering your plate of fruit and cheese, little fist cocked back.

Oh, he would never be gentle with you now.

Before you could throw the punch, something struck you in the back, sharp like a rock or a hornet. It stung terribly. Were there hornets in Iceland?

You fell into Loki’s arms, pain spreading through your back. Something slid free from your flesh to thump on the ground. Loki drew his hand from your back with a gasp. It was red.

What was going on? What just happened?

Why did you hurt?

A shape broke free of the trees, a person in a camouflaged cloak and hood. It raced past both of you, threw itself on your little horse, and rode the startled animal away at top speed.

Loki shook himself from his shock and flung his hand out at the retreating figure. You saw a flash in the eternal sun-a blade.

No, it might hit the horse!

You threw your own hand up, as if to catch it, though it was much too late for that. Power sizzled through you, out of you, like an extension of your own arm. It grasped the flying blade, and pulled it back to its sender.

“What are you doing?” Loki hissed. “What did you do? They are escaping!”

“H-horsie…” You whispered. The power swirled in your head, leaving you dizzy. It almost seemed to whisper.

Learn me. Learn me. Learn me.

You collapsed entirely in Loki’s grasp.

                                                                          *****

 Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn! This was supposed to be a scenic picnic! This was supposed to make you smile! Now you were bleeding and senseless in his arms, and you had expended your very first act of independent magic on preventing him from bringing justice upon your assailant.

He should have been able to praise you. To show off what you’d done. There was no time. He took the knife, and hefted you in his arms. There was no catching up to the escaping miscreant now; it was far more important to get you to safety.

Imagine! Defying Crown justice for the sake of a horse! At least you understood the value of such a beast.

It was a good thing that mortals were all so light, and his own horse more than strong enough. The ride back seemed to take an excruciating length of time. Why had he chosen a place so far from safety? There were places closer to home that were equally beautiful, what fool would go so far with no escort?

The berating didn’t stop when he returned to the city, nor when he turned you over to Bjarkehild, nor when he explained to person after person what had happened, and especially not when he was finally left alone with his own thoughts.

Who was that cloaked person, and why had he not sensed their presence? Why attack you?

That was a real hang up. You were a mere mortal, absolutely harmless. As far as he understood, you had never given anyone cause to hurt you. Even your occasional explosions of temper were ultimately innoxious, even endearing. That might just be because you were unable to hurt him, no matter how hard you punched, but he couldn’t imagine any person whose face had met your fist would hate you enough for it to hunt you all the way here and try to assassinate you.

What if you were not the target, but him? You had reared up for some reason, very suddenly, right before the knife struck. Had you sensed danger? Had you been just about to tell him? Had you been trying to protect him?

Foolish, little, weak, human idiot! If that was the case, he would lock you away in your room, and only let you out with a full contingent of guards around you at all times. He would keep you safe, no matter what it took. He had given his word, and he meant to keep it this time.

“Your Highness.” Bjarkehild said gently, shattering his spinning thoughts.

“Yes? What? How is she? Let me see her!” He demanded.

“Your highness.” She repeated firmly, holding her hands up to halt him. Her hands were clean, he noticed. That was a good sign.

“She is going to be fine. The knife hit at an angle; whoever threw it was either unlucky, or unskilled. The cut was deep, but it is just that-a cut. The blade did not even clear her ribs. She sleeps only because the combination of sudden injury and magic fatigue hit her hard. She will recover swiftly. As always with her kind, she must simply rest.”

Loki relaxed the slightest bit. You were safe now. Now was time to hunt. Now was time for revenge.

[perfectirishgifts]

The Top 10 Gaming Photo Modes Revealed–With A Surprising Winner

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The Top 10 Gaming Photo Modes Revealed–With A Surprising Winner

‘Forza Horizon 4’ is one of ten games making waves on Instagram right now.

Photo modes are becoming an integral part of gaming, and why shouldn’t they? Even before the likes of the Xbox Series X and PlayStation 5 landed, we’ve enjoyed utterly stunning games for years, which deserve to allow gamers to immortalize them in new and beautiful ways.

Ahead of the release of Cyberpunk 2077 tomorrow (November 10)–which is introducing its own top-of-the-line photo mode–research carried out by the photography community Shotkit has analyzed the popularity of gaming photography on Instagram, where trends like #ingamephotography and #virtualphotography are in their millions.

Thanks to the organization’s hashtag-heavy deep dive, we now have a definitive idea of which games dominate the image-happy social media site more than any other. And yet, despite the predictable appearances of games like Fortnite and Forza Horizon 4 on the top-10 list, a much more cinematic experience sits at number one, thanks to its deep and flexible photo mode.

‘Fortnite’ may have a player base of 350 million and rising, but it’s not number one on Instagram, … [] according to Shotkit.

10. The Sims 4 (4,800 posts)

Six years on, The Sims 4 is still going strong in the Instagram gaming community. It’s hardly surprising; after the year we’ve had, it’s understandable that people escape to a game that allows them to create a more attractive version of themselves (in my case, at least)–one who can live in a more trouble-free world, where the biggest danger is still the possibility of drowning in a fenced, ladderless swimming pool.

9. Uncharted 4: A Thief’s End (4,900)

While it might not have quite matched the generation-defining brilliance of its second outing–and the series’ original PS3 audience has largely matured to prefer Naughty Dog’s grittier The Last of Us–Uncharted 4: A Thief’s End is still one of the most beautiful and cinematic games on the PS4. The tenth Jeep-driving chapter, The Twelve Towers, must account for at least half of its 5,000 photos.

8. The Last of Us Part II (5,300)

While it might not let you take a Watch Dogs: Legion-style selfie with the Rat King, The Last of Us Part II is still one of the most incredibly beautiful games of its generation–and certainly one of its most visceral. Its world is the gaming equivalent of Talking Heads’ ‘Nothing But Flowers’: one gradually reclaimed by nature, where as things fell apart, nobody paid much attention. Then again, there was a deadly virus kicking about, so you can’t blame them. Let’s move on before we get even more depressed about 2020.

7. Ghost of Tsushima (16,900)

It’s not even five months old, but Ghost of Tsushima is an Instagram hottie. It’s entirely predictable, given its art direction–and the fact it’s so loved, it yesterday won The Game Awards’ Player’s Voice Award (something that has since been hit with allegations of impropriety). Pictures like this, from Jafree’s Perspective, only prove how magnificent it can look.

‘Ghost of Tsushima’ is the newest game in the top 10.

6. Forza Horizon 4 (33,100)

I’ve plowed about 150 hours into Forza Horizon 4: one quarter completing it, another quarter somehow getting three stars on all drift zones, and half of it on photography. Its effortless photo mode and a huge selection of endlessly customizable cars mean it’s too easy to get snapping; the fact Playground Games later added the “Picture Perfect” photography achievement, which also featured in its prequel, undoubtedly got more people taking shots.

5. Horizon Zero Dawn (40,500)

While The Last of Us Part II captures a more believable downfall of modern society, Horizon Zero Dawn presents its most beautiful: the aftermath of a technocratic dystopia, now governed by increasingly deranged Machines that threaten humanity a second time. Its brighter color palette, beautiful vistas, and ridiculous action make for some pretty incredible shots.

4. Skyrim (46,200)

Well, this isn’t a surprise: Skyrim is fourth, not least because it’s been released on nearly every console of note since its 2011 debut, as well as Alexa, Etch-a-Sketch and your fridge. But its deep modding community, which also made the leap to consoles, continues to make this classic even more beautiful and photogenic.

3. Fortnite (135,000)

The king of battle royale is relegated to duke status in the royal succession of Instagram photos, picking up third place despite a player base last registered at 350 million and growing. Maybe it’s because of youngsters’ embrace of different social media platforms, but it’s still a good showing–and its popularity may push it up the rankings as time goes on. I’m now hyper-aware of my own age by referring to Fortnite players as “youngsters”.

2. Grand Theft Auto V (146,500)

The PS2 gave us three GTA games, while three consoles have coughed up GTA V. And yet, the game’s initial technical achievement, and subsequent upgrades, have made it an “enduring mystery” in terms of never-ending sales. Photos unsurprisingly follow this trend–but interestingly, it’s a more recent Rockstar game that takes the crown.

‘Red Dead Redemption 2’ is the biggest hit on Instagram among virtual photographers.

1. Red Dead Redemption 2 (165,200)

Despite being just over two years old, Red Dead Redemption 2 tops the Instagram list for the most popular game on the photo front. Given it’s the closest we’ll ever get to immerse ourselves in a spaghetti western, it’s perfectly understandable. The largely untouched features of 1899 America provide some of the most jaw-dropping landscapes known to man. The filters, as evidenced above, only add to the game’s majesty.

Speaking to Shotkit, Leo Sang–an insanely talented Brazilian virtual photographer whose skills have led to sponsorship by NVIDIA, whose own photos are above–explained what makes the perfect photo mode. He said: “A familiar and easy-to-use photo mode is less intimidating if you’re getting used to virtual photography; the basic camera controls and settings should have easy access and be intuitive.

“The camera’s movement can’t be too restricted; the wider the movement range, the easier it is to compose your shot. The same applies to the other settings: field of view, roll angles, depth of focus, and so on… being able to fine-tune your shot helps you experiment and create a lot easier.”

However, high-quality graphics aren’t everything to Sang, who added: “An element of fun is always important, especially if you’re trying to do this professionally. If the game is fun, your motivation to find great shots increases as you want to do the character justice. It’s what explains why games like The Sims 4 and GTA 5 made it onto the list.”

The only disappointment in this list is that Control doesn’t feature, despite being what I think is the most uniquely gorgeous game of its generation. But who needs Instagram when you’ve got books, especially when we’re inevitably robbed of the internet with our own, HZD or TLoU-style apocalypse?

From Games in Perfectirishgifts