A/N: This will be a miniseries. This is probably my darkest fic yet. Not for the faint hearted. Also, I read some bs recently about how fanfiction isn’t “supposed” to be in first person (as if a huge amount of stories throughout the ages –first person or otherwise – aren’t fanfic of some description LOL). So naturally, even though third person limited is my usual groove, I’m going to give first person a shot.
A noble duty
i.
It is almost ten in the morning when the portcullis is lifted and I walk through. I squint as the direct sunlight hits my eyelids. I have forgotten what it feels like: the heat and the orange spots that appear before me as I blink. I stick out my tongue and taste the air, flavoured by sea-salt and apples; freedom.
A grunt behind me reminds me that this is a temporary reprieve and I hurry down the rampart, my legs wobbling a little and aching at the movement they are being afforded after such a long period of confinement.
I pause at the external gate, making sure that the guard has time to sight me and my silent sentinels and wave us through. I do not want there to be any misinterpretations of my behaviour on this first outing, because it is only if my conduct is beyond reproach that there will be even the slightest chance of another.
I tread carefully on the cobblestones, trying to steady both my feet and my nerves. There was a time when I knew the roads in the Capital by heart, striding fearlessly as crowds parted to let me pass.
But that was then.
I move differently now, watching people instead of being watched. I drink them in greedily, knowing that I won’t be permitted to speak to them. The sight of them is the closest thing to contact I will have until I’ve done my duty. Until we all have.
I take a furtive inventory of them all on my journey: the girls playing jump rope and hopscotch in the main square; the waiter delivering coffee to a table of plump and balding men; the baker smiling at a customer as she loads loaves of bread; the police officer writing a ticket and placing it on the windshield of a red convertible parked in a no-stopping zone.
It is the Butcher that catches me in my peeping, eyeing me curiously through the glass of his store.
Maybe it is his training. He is skilled in recognising lifeless meat.
I don’t know how long we stand there, gazing at each other, but one of my invisible companions clears their throat and I abruptly spin on my heel, heeding the warning.
I complete my loop of the town square quickly, only pausing once more, for the briefest of moments, when I catch my own reflection in a boutique window.
The clothes I am wearing are mine from before. Bespoke creations that were tailored perfectly to my form. They sit awkwardly on me now. The fabric gathers at my waist and shoulders and I look like a child that has played dress up with her mother’s frocks.
Would I be in this position if my mother was still alive?
I shudder at the thought, but brush it off just as quickly as it comes to me. The other girls have mothers and they are no better off. Our fate was sealed when Liam abdicated to pursue an American, just like his brother before him.
I wonder what he is doing now, if he knows what happened after he left?
Cordonia doesn’t know, I reflect as I make my way back up the hill. Except maybe the Butcher.
I am a little breathless as I traverse the incline. My body isn’t as strong as it used to be, but maybe it is also the sight of the Palace, the jewelled peak of the valley beside the Adriatic Sea. The stone walls seem to sparkle underneath the rays that stretch down to them from the sky. Nothing about the glittering exterior belies what happens inside.
If I squint, I can almost imagine that I am back in those early weeks of the social season; when it seemed that a bright and beautiful future were possible if we were our best and most beguiling selves.
I can still hear the crowds that lined the streets: calling our names and throwing flowers as they chanted.
I'll answer this one for my favorite muse: Elizabeth Foredale, my OC from the Desire and Decorum Modern AU.
✯ - I'll tell you how to make my muse cry
Elizabeth is a sensitive young woman and it is not hard to make her cry, whether it is with a sad story real or fiction, she will cry with movies (and some songs); and because she is compassionate she often will get emotional over other people's stories and experiences too. Something else that affect her is genuine compliments (living amongst the nobility she's used to adulation, but if someone says nice things about her and not her family or title, and without an agenda, that is the kind of thing that could definitely affect her and maybe bring a few tears).
However, there's another way to make her cry - and that's one she prefers actually - and is with a good joke, she's one to cry-laugh with friends when she's feeling relaxed around them.
Again, thanks for the ask, Rita! I hope you have a lovely day/night!
What made you choose Maxwell? Does Drake still have appeal for you?
Sooo funny story... I actually kind of fell for Maxwell after the whole rooftop scene, and then when I was writing him in Closure & AWA, that cinched it. He's just so amazing! He's sweet, kind, respectful and MC can be her best self around him. He's surprisingly deep, though he seems like a jokester, he's actually one of the deepest characters in the series. I wish he had been developed more in the first book. I'm attached to my HCs about him.
I have actually romanced Drake, Liam and Maxwell all at one time or another, respectively. It's not that I don't enjoy the Drake route, I do... it's just that the way he's written canonically really puts me off. I love fanon Drake but not canon Drake.
Impersonating your blog posts if all absorbed in one hit: Bastien and Olivia are fabulous. The only thing that would make them better would be if they were brothers that fought paranormal creatures! 💕
Okay I laughed so hard I had tears!
Bastien and Olivia are fabulous, I love them so much they are my babies, my loves. I don’t know if putting them in flannel and an Impala and fighting monsters would make them more badass, cause I mean they are already pretty badass.
Now if there was a way for me merge Supernatural and TRR besides just using actors as faceclaim I’m interested.
Are you Australian? You just reblogged an Australian electoral post
I am not! Was it the poster of the dude with the tentacles? because I mostly just thought it was funny. The pun, combined with the look in his eyes that suggests maybe he actually is an eldrich monster only waiting to reveal his true form.
An interactive project for the moral philosophers of the choices fandom
A/N: I am a little behind in responding to your awesome judgments, but I appreciate all the hilarious replies and reblogs so much. I will be responding as soon as I can, but I thought you'd all prefer me to post another update first : )
r/AmitheAsshole
Posted by u/monarchbutterfly
AITA for asking my friends if their child could inherit my Estate?
I am hopeful that this process will shed some light on recent events. A friend, “H” who is always quite charming and kind to everyone has told me I am an asshole and I am so shocked that I am here to see if others agree.
For the purpose of this post, I will describe myself as the holder of a very large Estate. The Estate impacts the lives and livelihoods of many. For some time I have been searching for an appropriate partner to help me run the Estate.
I thought I had found the perfect person, “R”, but due to some family issues there wasn’t sufficient support for us to be married. I instead got engaged to “M”, but as time passed I realised I couldn’t go through with the wedding. By the time I dissolved my engagement and proposed to “R”, she had moved on and was in love with my friend “D”. While I was disappointed for myself, I was of course very happy for R and D. They recently got married and I was delighted to officiate. I even loaned them my vacation property to use for their honeymoon.
For the sake of transparency, I will note that I have asked “R” on a number of occasions if she would like to continue having intercourse with me. These occasions included the night she declined my proposal and also when we returned from a group holiday abroad to our home country. While polyamory may seem strange to some, it is quite common in my culture. Nevertheless, R politely declined my offers.
I have been puzzling over how I’m going to secure the future of the Estate (which is vital - there cannot be any amount of time where it’s not clear who will inherit it when I die), and I had a brain wave: I could name R and D’s child as my heir!
Given how important the issue was, I immediately boarded a plane to my summer house. Seeing as my group likes to gather for parties, I also invited “H” and two brothers that we are friends with: B and M.
R and D seemed a little surprised to see us, but when I asked them about their future child being my heir they immediately agreed. D even said it would be an honour (which is surprising as he has never been fond of the Estate).
I thought that everything had ended rather well, but H recently had a few more drinks than she usually does at one of my regular Estate parties and she told me that I was "morally bankrupt" for the way I had treated R and D. She then recounted the events above in a most unfavourable way. I have tried to be as neutral as I can, but will of course answer any questions you may have.
