#but it's brushed off as nothing because he was complacent with the MC when doing that
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How would you describe Hermes? Most fictional adaptations that I've read have made him bland or a class clown obsessed with jokes. I'm trying to write something balanced but I'm unsure how to do it. Do you have any advice?
Personally, I think he fits chaotic neutral alignment more than any other god. I've based my interpretation not just on his myths but also on the domains he rules. For me he's an individualist who does things on a whim. Not that doesn't care for anyone else at all - I do think he genuinely and consistently cares for some of his divine family members. He's thick as thieves with Zeus, Apollo, Pan and Dionysus if you ask me. But towards the others, he is mostly just...idk if apathetic is the right word... but whatever he does - help or harm - depends on whether he thinks it's fun or not. He would also definitely and very easily convince others that he's helping them when in reality, he's not. As long as he is entertained, he would show no remorse for doing what he did regardless of how it would affect the others. This could be fun or terrifying, depending on the situation.
Like you said, the fun side of it is what's usually shown in most of media adaptations I've come across. He is usually written off as a comedic relief who does harmless pranks for laughs. So it would be a good change to see the other, terrifying side of this attitude of his. For all the complaints I have with Rick Riordan's characterization of gods, I've grown to like Hermes' portrayal in his series. He is fun, he is helpful. But he's also negligent and that actually has a significant effect on the others in the series. There's also one instance where Apollo recalls the tale of Hemithea and Molpadia, and he adds that if it was Hermes in his place, he would have just laughed and not done anything to save the girls. So if you want to write something more balanced, you could let his apathetic side peek in between his charming, cheerful nature. You can show that the consequences of his actions are not always fun and lighthearted, but can also be cruel, capable of truly hurting someone. Good luck!
#asks#anon#Hermes#my interpretation is probably very unpopular#both in the modern adaptations and in the community too lol#but I find Hermes' charm in exactly this side of his#like sure he can help you#but if it is more fun torturing you he'll just do that#I also like how he's a scheming lil bastard in Athena complex#and tbh even in lxre olympu$ he does something fucked up#but it's brushed off as nothing because he was complacent with the MC when doing that#that plotline has much potential to make Hermes actually interesting#but oh well
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MC loving hours!! ^^
CW: bad, bad stuff. It’s just verbal but it’s still bad
ok but ya’ll should focus more on canon!mc. like, all they can do is just tame beasts, compared to other unique magics, it’s pretty pathetic.
Can you imagine all the angst that can come from that? MC feeling even more of an outsider because not only are they from another world, their power is pretty useless when you can’t even do anything with it like Grim or Jack.
Or, make it better, make MC have no magic at all! The beast tame skill was just a lie crowley used to get this weird alien to settle down and be complacent as crowley uses them to their limit.
It hurts even more when it’s shoved in their face by Sebek or Ace. Sebek’s harsh scoldings and remarks on how Lord Malleus shouldn’t even be near someone as worthless as MC, or Ace’s cruel jokes and comments on how sad it must be to be the alien of the college (unaware on how deep their words cut, how it hits too close to home..) But MC would always brush it off with a smile and laugh, oblivious to how Jack and Deuce stare at MC’s fist tightening too hard.
Or maybe Leona going a bit too far with his wording, and it ends up sounding as though he looks down on them, like they’re a nuisance.
Like, hel-lo people! we’re in a school of villains! think of the pontential, you guys!
not to mention, those sadistic mfs that take pride in being someone’s misery! Lilia gaslighting MC into believing that MC has brought nothing but trouble ever since they fell here, the eel twins cornering and coercing MC into doing things they’re scared to do, only stopping once all that’s left is their uneven breathing, Cater verbally and physically pushing MC down till they’re nothing but a mess of tears and broken words, but even then, he’d still push even further because of how much material they’re giving him!
and when all is said and done, they all give MC words of praise, love, and affection, so they’ll have no choice but end up falling into the rabbit hole!
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[OM!] Amaranthine (Lucifer/MC)
Summary: To open his heart up to someone again and love someone unconditionally, without abandon-- a mortal nonetheless-- Lucifer has never understood Lilith more or been more afraid. There will never be enough time to love you, just as there was nothing he could do to change that.
So he must let you go.
Alternatively: Is it better to have loved and lost or to have never loved at all?
Word Count: ~1700
Notes: gn!MC, fluffy beginning but mainly angst, unhappy ending
amaranthine (adj): of an imaginary flower than never fades
--
Lucifer doesn’t remember the last time he’s ever felt content. Satisfaction comes close, but that feeling stems from pride in oneself, in one’s work. (Lucifer is familiar with satisfaction.) But when he wakes up on a quiet, weekend morning with his arm around your waist, the smell of the shampoo in your hair, and the gentle beating of his heart, he finally knows what it means to be content. To be so at ease that all he needs is to bury his face into the crook of your neck to fall asleep again; to be so untroubled that he need not worry about whether or not you’ll be there when he wakes up, because you will-- without a doubt.
When the rubble settled and the dust cleared and the drama dissipated from the House of Lamentations, Lucifer finds himself tripping over himself falling in love with you (as embarrassing as it is for him to admit that). It makes sense, now that he thinks upon it, that his heart would choose someone that had played the pivotal role in resolving the conflict within his family and mending the fraying bonds between him and his brothers. Exceedingly helpful as you were, he knows he was falling for you before you had any hand in assisting any of his brothers. Your heart was golden and your courage (though often he would call it recklessness) when it comes to protecting those you loved knew no bounds.
Lucifer walked you home and you held his hands. You stayed by his side while he worked and he gave you his attention. He kissed you good night and then you said, “I love you.”
Six months after you came down to the Devildom and wreaked havoc on the brothers’ lives (and brought them infinite joy), you no longer had to ask if you could wake up next to him.
Things were never perfect, but they were happier times. It was almost dream-like; he lived in a haze with you, taking whatever you would give him and giving whatever he could.
(And for you there was never a good time to bring up something that was potentially upsetting. Perhaps it was because you were mortal and time was intrinsically more precious, but the time that you had left in the Devildom loomed over your head like a guillotine.
Perhaps another time, you would tell yourself as you fell asleep in his arms. Another day, when the time is right, you say to yourself firmly when you see Lucifer smiling with his brothers, watching Mammon throw popcorn in the air and Beel catch them in his mouth. Another night, you think as you lie in bed, brushing your hand through Lucifer’s hair as he barely keeps his eyes open after a long night of work. This conversation can wait another day.
You hear his breathing even, but even after hours pass, you lie awake, wondering how you could find the courage to possibly break his heart.)
Months pass and Diavolo-- with dreams larger than life, than all three realms put together-- reminds him that all dreams do end eventually.
“Do you think we should have a party, Lucifer,” Diavolo says to him as the meeting ends, “when the exchange program ends?”
And Lucifer can only look at him, barely controlling the tremble of his lips as he recalls the days that have passed, and the days he has left.
There is never enough.
.
.
.
The problem with being content, ultimately, is that you are complacent. And when the world catches you unaware, it slits your throat without hesitation.
Lucifer walks into the House of Lamentation and climbs the stairs to his bedroom with a calm he does not feel. He dreads finding you, knowing full well what he must say as the final month of the exchange program comes to a close. Was there a way he could have prevented this? He thought to himself, some way to avoid the hurt that inevitably would come?
Lucifer opens the door to see you waiting for him, curled up in bed reading a book. The smile you give him, for once, does not ease his heart.
“Hey, Lucifer,” you start to say, “meeting with Diavolo?”
“Yes,” he says, clearing his throat. It is dry no matter how many times he swallows. He turns away from you and shrugs off his coat. "The meeting went… a little long." Lucifer places his hands on the vanity and looks into the mirror to see his face that will never age.
"...Lucifer?" You ask cautiously, having sensed something in the way he spoke or the way he moved. Lucifer sees you set down the book on the bedside table in the mirror and look at him in concern.
(He should have known better. A demon cannot resist temptation, cannot deny himself something that he wants, and he wishes you were not so tempting, not so loving that he couldn’t resist wanting to be with you.)
"Lucifer--”
“I think it’s best for the both of us if we break up.”
Lucifer hears your voice, high and strained in the background, accompanied by the ringing in his ears. It helps to hear the range of emotions from you as you traverse past shock, to disbelief, before settling on a horrified anger, because he can feel himself becoming your antithesis: calm, separated, and stoic.
“Where is this coming from?” You demand, standing up from the bed, silk sheets strowned haphazardly. He doesn't need to turn to know your eyes are blazing with a righteous fury and fear. "Lucifer, please,” you say, “talk to me."
Lucifer has a list in his mind, of excuses that roll off the tongue easier, that are better to swallow than the truth.
"When you leave the Devildom," he tells you, "I will return to the life I had before you came. I will not be able to visit you in the human realm nor have time to converse with you as we do now as I will return to Diavolo’s service."
Lucifer falters for a moment before continuing, tugging off his tie violently and tossing it onto the vanity. "Our relationship will become inconvenient and cumbersome,” he tells you. From the corner of his eyes, he sees your face reflected on the mirror: frightened and pale. He covers your reflection with a step to the right and looks away.
"If we want to conserve the good memories we've made here… then it is best if we did not continue this relationship.”
The room was quiet, save for the murmuring outside the walls as the brothers moved about in the House preparing for supper. When you finally speak, your voice is quiet, “Did I do something wrong?”
“No!” Lucifer spoke fervently, turning his head to convince you as much. But when he turns and sees you flinch, he turns away again and softens his tone. “No, that’s not it,” he says, glancing down at the vanity. “You haven’t done anything wrong. You’ve…” He feels his shoulders slump tiredly, relieved he could speak truthfully, “You’ve been good to me, to all of us-- more than I could ever ask for.”
“Then why?”
Lucifer opens his mouth, and the lies tumble out like sand through his clenched teeth, “You won’t be happy with me.”
“Why do you get to decide what makes me happy?" He hears you retort, approaching him but never quite within arm’s reach, "What if being with you makes me happy?”
"I don’t mind the long-distance, or- or waiting for the exchange program to start again or have you visit sometimes…" The more you speak, the less sure you sound, as if you’re trying to convince yourself, and the knowing must have shown on his face because you sigh and go silent for a moment.
“Look, I’m sorry. I-- we should have talked about this earlier,” you say, and he believes you. “But I mean it. I want--" a slight pause, "I want this relationship to work, Lucifer.”
“But we-- but we can make it work.” You grow quiet. “We can try to, can’t we? I know I want to... Don’t you feel the same?”
(Is there anything he could want more? If there was a wish he could make selfishly for his own happiness, is this not what he would have wished for?)
“I just believe,” Lucifer continues, clenching his fists, “that it is in our best interest if we ended things now before either of us gets hurt."
“Lucifer--”
"You will die," he says plainly, "and I never will." He looks at you and your face is pained. "You know that."
(To open his heart up to someone again and love someone unconditionally, without abandon-- a mortal nonetheless-- Lucifer has never understood Lilith more or been more afraid. There will never be enough time to love you, just as there was nothing he could do to change that.
How similar are you to Lilith, anyhow? You are not her-- not even remotely alike in any way. And Lucifer does not love you the way he loved his late sister. But it turns out that you are similar to her in the only ways that matters: you will die and Lucifer will lose you.)
You whisper his name like it is a lifeline.
But his mouth is dry and the words come from his mouth like blades on his tongue. “I can’t do it.”
(You will never understand the loneliness of watching the people you love die over and over and leave you. Perhaps you understand that; love him enough to know some parts of him that he still has a hard time understanding. Lucifer loves you, but he will never be able to be there when you need him most-- he is not brave enough.
So he must let you go.
Why does it seem that in every step he takes to protect himself and those he loves, he ends up hurting them anyways?)
“Okay,” you say, your voice barely a whisper. Lucifer watches you close your eyes and press your hands against your tears. You open your mouth in a wordless cry. “Let’s break up.”
#obey me lucifer#obey me#lucifer/mc#lucifer/reader#i love this man but the angst in him jumps out#break up scenes are hard irl and in fiction :(
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A Necessary Arrangement (Part Four)
A Desire and Decorum AU
Pairing: Ernest Sinclaire x MC (Ella Mills)
Book: Desire and Decorum (AU= Alternate Universe)
Word Count: ~1,650
Rating: PG
Author’s Note: A short and sweet chapter of Ernest and Ella’s story, when Ernest finally starts opening up and has the opportunity to comfort his new wife during an unfortunate tragedy.
You can catch up on the entire series here.
Please let me know if you would like to be added to my tag list. You can find all of my fics here - MASTERLIST
~~~~~~~~~~
The remainder of the races turned out to be extraordinarily tense with Ernest’s sour turn of his mood. Even when the Edgewater steed won first place and Ella stood up enthusiastically to applaud her family’s equine champion, Ernest did little but acknowledge the victory with a half-smile and a nod when Ella glanced down at him. The man who had started their afternoon outing so pleasantly was gone, his timid smile from before now hidden beneath the layers of furrowed brows and angst.
Ella could not help but to study him every few minutes on the carriage ride back to Ledford Park, trying to determine where the afternoon had gone awry and what gloomy thoughts were churning about beneath those tousled flaxen locks. His gaze never left the rolling countryside passing by, his mouth set in a tight line, completely oblivious to his young wife’s worrisome glances. As the carriage neared Ledford Park, Ella summoned the courage to speak, unwilling to lose this fleeting opportunity to have him alone and force him to respond to her questions.
“Ernest?” She began in a gentle voice. He did not seem to hear her. She cleared her throat and tried again, her voice louder and firm this time. “Ernest!?” He startled from his reverie, his eyes flicking back to find her observing him closely. “Ernest, I wish you would please tell me what is wrong? I thought we were having a pleasant time …”
Ernest maintained her gaze for a moment, then shook his head in frustration and turned away towards the window again. “Those people …” he growled under his breath.
“Those people?” Ella questioned, her brow knitting in contemplation as she recalled the conversations from earlier that day. “You mean the Duke and your cousin? I do not understand, they seemed extremely agreeable-“
“That is because you do not know them as I do!” Ernest barked as he turned back to glare at her. “They cannot be trusted, Ella!”
Ella’s jaw dropped open as she processed her husband’s outburst slowly. She could not comprehend how Ernest could not be fond of the boisterous and friendly Felicity, and even the Duke had done nothing disagreeable in their brief interaction. “But … She is your cousin. Are you not amenable to your own kin?”
Ernest let out a slow exhale, resting his hands on his legs to calm himself. He finally glanced up to meet Ella’s gaze, his eyes filled with remorse and concern. “She may be family through distant relations, but I had never met her until just less than a year ago. Shortly after she married the Duke.”
“Well then you should get to know her better, and we should be thankful to the Duke for reuniting you with your long-lost cousin, should we not?” Ella inquired innocently, reaching a hand instinctively out to clasp Ernest’s upon his leg.
He stared down at her hand upon his and Ella worried that he would again brush her off like he had earlier. Instead he placed his other on top of hers, cradling her delicate hand between his two larger ones warmly. He traced his thumb along hers, softly and carefully as he watched the slight movement. Finally he raised his eyes to meet hers, a wistful smile on his lips before they parted to speak. “Sweet Ella … I had hoped the same thing. But alas I have learned yet again that I am all alone in this world, with no true family to speak of.” He paused, his heartfelt stare imploring her to listen to his next words. “Please be careful Ella … I do not wish to see you disappointed as I was. As I said before, they cannot be trusted.”
Ella nodded slightly but dared not speak for fear of frightening away this gentle, compassionate Ernest. Her hand tingled where her skin came into contact with his, and it suddenly dawned on her that this was one of the very few times he had ever touched her willingly. She laced her fingers through his and gave him a soft smile, which he kindly returned, and they sat together in peaceful silence for the remainder of the ride home. Her mind was swirling with questions, but for today this small gesture of companionship was enough.
As the carriage circled the rotunda of Ledford Park, Ella caught a glimpse of Briar rushing down the front steps to meet the carriage, waving a letter in her hand frantically. Immediately, her stomach sank with dread … for she knew in her heart what news was to come. The carriage had scarcely stopped before she had opened the door and started to jump to the ground, uncaring of proper decorum if what she feared was true.
“My Lady, my Lady!” Briar called as she scurried to meet her at the foot of the stairs. “It is your father! He has taken with a fever and … the doctor thinks it shall not be long.”
Ella’s heart thundered in her chest and tears pricked her eyes as she scoured over the contents of the letter. It was only after she finished reading it that she noticed Ernest standing behind her reading over her shoulder, his hand cupped around her shoulder protectively. She glanced back over her shoulder, her eyes filled with tears that threatened to fall at any second. “I … I …” her voice was shaky as she struggled to get the words out.
“You must go to him.” Ernest replied simply, a look of understanding upon his face as he rubbed her shoulder comfortingly. She nodded in agreement, allowing a few tears to tumble down her cheeks. He stroked his thumb along her cheek to swipe them away, his eyes never leaving hers. “Briar, go fetch Lady Ella’s things. Luke, ready the horses to ride again for Edgewater. We will leave at once!”
~~~
The next few days passed by in a blur, Ella scarcely leaving her father’s bedside upon their arrival at Edgewater. Despite her greatest efforts and ambitions, the doctor confirmed her dreaded suspicions that there was nothing anyone could do now but wait. So wait she did, by his side, for nearly three straight days until he passed early in the morning on chilly day in November.
Ella stood entranced in front of the window in her former chambers, watching as the wind rustled the trees upon the lawn before her. The combination of grief and exhaustion had dulled her senses, for she did not even hear the footsteps behind her as Ernest approached. “Ella? Ella, you need to get some rest.” She startled when he placed his fingertips lightly on her forearm to gently gain her attention, dropping her gaze to observe his touch curiously. Finally she looked away again to the outdoors, shaking her head and allowing the tears she had been holding inside to spill down her cheeks.
“I will rest when it is done. As Lady of Edgewater and his only child, I must ensure that my father’s character is honored during the services. I cannot trust Henrietta to do him justice.” Her voice was shaky, but she held her head high as she spoke.
“Perhaps …” Ernest slipped in front of her, obstructing her view of the window to attract her focus, slipping his other hand upon her arm to coax her to look at him. “Perhaps I can be of service. Would you trust me to help plan the services?”
“I .. I … “ Ella’s eyes searched within his, finding kindness and concern behind his sapphire irises. And then she knew … she could trust him. “I would. I would, thank you. At least until I have rested properly.”
Ernest let out an exhale of relief, rubbing her upper arms gently as he cocked his head to view her better. “Good, good …” He paused, his brows furrowed with a look of worry before he opened his mouth again to speak with determination. “I will have to go to London after the services on business … I was hoping you might accompany this time. I think it would be good for you to get away for some time.”
If Ella had not been so exhausted already she would have likely questioned her husband’s motives for requesting her company, however on this day she did not have the energy to ponder his intentions. Some time away, an escape to the city … that all sounded wonderful to her. “Yes, I would very much like to accompany you this time.”
Ernest smiled, a genuine wide smile that reached all the way to the corners of his eyes. “Wonderful.” He turned around and closed the drapes on the window behind him, casting a dark shadow across the room before moving on to the next window. “But for now, you must rest.” He came back to her side when he was finished, ushering her gently to the bed and encouraging her to sit. She looked up at him in a stupor, whether caused by awe or fatigue she could not tell, then gave him a soft smile before he left her alone to lie down.
As she lay down upon her old bed and closed her eyes, Ella felt an odd sense closure and contentment. There was a sadness resonating in the corners of her mind of course, but a sense of complacency dulled the sharp edges of her sorrow. She would forever be thankful to have sat with her father in his last days, to provide comfort to him as he prepared to leave this world. Now that he had gone, although she missed him terribly, she felt sure that he was in a peaceful place watching down on her. And right now he was most likely smiling proudly, having just witnessed the warm interaction between his only daughter and the man he had been so proud to call his son-in-law.
END
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Drake's Diary ch.9 - Long Live the Apple Queen
Words :1682
Drake x MC (Emma)
It’s the second day of the Apple Blossom Festival. Drake was walking amongst the crowd, when he saw Emma. She looked like a maiden, wearing a colorful blue and white dress, complete with puffy sleeves. Drake couldn’t take his eyes off her.
He kept thinking about the previous night, when he had almost kissed her. The way everyone else seemed to fade into the background when he was with her. He thought about the tight hug she gave him. And when he got back to his room, he may have had a few more thoughts on those things that weren’t exactly…friendly. Nope, those definitely were not the thoughts of just a friend, and he hated himself for it.
The first activity was the pie baking contest. That was extremely boring, watching the ladies bake. But, as usual, Emma impressed everyone. Kiara had taken the pie at one point, then tripped, sending the pie up into the air. Emma, being wonderful as she is, managed to catch it. And then her team won.
Afterwards, Drake saw the Queen taking Emma aside from the others. He noticed at one point, Emma glanced at him with a sparkle in her eye.
What on earth are they talking about that she would look at me like that?
A few minutes later, Queen Regina addressed the crowd. “The Apple Blossom Festival symbolizes the growth vital to keeping our small nation thriving. Now, as is tradition, we will honor one distinguished, best dressed lady as this year’s Apple Queen. This is a ceremonial position for the people to decide. Last year, it was our very own Lady Madeleine.”
Madeleine let out her practiced smile” And I very much appreciated the honor.”
Drake rolled his eyes. When she was apple queen she just bossed everyone around and let them know how good she thought she was. There was nothing “honorable” about it.
Queen Regina continued “As for this year---citizens of Cordonia, who do you wish to honor with this title?”
The crowd erupts into wild cries, a frenzied mix of names, cheers, and boos. He heard Maxwell call out “Emma!!!”
Might as well join in. Madeleine certainly doesn’t deserve it twice.
Drake cheered “Emma!”
Soon the chants for Emma overpower any of the other names.
The Queen smiled “I think we have a clear winner. Lady Emma will be this year’s Apple Queen.”
Maxwell whistled “Woooooo! Go Emma! Party like it’s 1299! All hail the Apple Queen from the Big Apple!”
Queen Regina shot him a look before turning back “Lady Emma, please join me for you Coronation.”
Emma stands before the Queen as she hands her an apple-shaped scepter. “Lady Emma, I pronounce you Queen of the Apples. Long live the apple queen!”
Drake couldn’t believe how beautiful she looked. For a brief moment he let himself think what it would be like to be standing beside her, making sure she knew that he was her biggest supporter.
But that will never happen. Look at her. She was born to be a Queen. Hell, she’d be the best queen there ever was.
Emma smiled “Queen Regina, It’s an honor. Thank you all for electing me to represent you as the Apple Queen. I’m happy to accept this esteemed position, and I will treat it with the utmost respect…” she trailed off. “What now?”
Queen Regina spoke again “My Queen, I will serve as your acting seneschal and guide you through the ceremony. Before we proceed, we must fill out the Apple Court. These are the courtiers who will parade behind you. Who will be your cup-bearer? This person should be a close confidant you’d trust with your life.”
“Drake.” Emma announced, looking straight at him.
What?? I’m her close confidant? How did that happen? When? Oh, God, I have to go up there now, I actually do get to stand beside her and offer my support. The Queen was practically still talking when she said my name. Was it really that quick of a decision?
He cleared his throat as he walks up “You know the cup-bearer tastes drinks for poison, right?”
“You’ll be fine.” She rolled her eyes.
I can’t let her know I’m actually thrilled to be here
He scowled “I am blessed to carry out your agenda, my Queen.” He took his place at her righthand side. Glancing around, he noticed Liam staring at them, an impassive expression on his face. Fuck.
The Queen pulls out a goofy-looking fool’s cap. “My Queen, if you’ll name your court jester.”
“Maxwell”
Maxwell bounded up to them “Step aside, plebeians. Three-time jester MVP, coming through.”
Drake looked at him “You’re not supposed to enjoy this”
Maxwell just grinned “I’m sensing jealousy”
“Forget I said anything” Drake sighed. At least he was keeping up appearances. He wished he could show the real emotion he was feeling: joy. He didn’t even remember the last time he had felt that.
Maxwell plops the jester cap on his head. The bells jingle as they fall down in his face.
“My queen, with your court assembled, it is your right to issue an edict before your people.” Queen Regina told her.
Emma turned towards the crowd “My people. Love binds us together. Whether it is love of country, love of citizen, love of self. Those bonds hold us together.”
Of course, she’s talking about love. She would.
But then as she spoke again, she was looking at Drake from the corner of her eye “Our differences are insignificant compared to the power of love that we share with one another.”
He sucked in a breath. I…I don’t…what just happened? Why did she look at me while she said that?
Queen Regina summons a horse pulling a wagon of apples. “Oh, magnanimous Apple Queen, please show your generosity and share your bountiful harvest with us”
Emma smiled “Let me show you my love. Each and everyone one of you here is the apple of my eye.”
She climbs onto the wagon with Drake and Maxwell and they started to parade past the crowd. When Drake handed her an apple, he felt a spark of electricity when she brushed his hand reaching for it, her eyes searching his. But then she turned and tossed it into the flood of clamoring hands. And just like that, the moment was over. Towards the end of the line, Drake saw Olivia sulking among the crowd. Emma’s faced slowly morphed into a smirk. She threw an apple at her. Olivia frantically attempted to catch it but was unsuccessful. The apple hits her chest with a thud.
“How do you like them apples?” Emma called out “The Apple Queen’s power is absolute!” Drake let out a laugh. The look on Olivia’s face was priceless.
At the end of their parade, stood Madeleine by a potted baby apple tree.
“Your majesty, please honor you ancestor, last year’s apple queen, and plant a tree for the next generation.” Queen Regina announced
Madeleine curtsies “My Queen. Happy wishes for you.”
Emma gave her a nod. “Her former majesty, thank you.” She hopped out of the carriage. Darn it. He should have helped her down.
He heard Madeleine sigh. “The labor of your forebears will help you build a better world.” She lowered her voice, so Drake could no longer hear her. Not until…
“It taught me to appreciate the little things and not be an utter jerk.” Emma was glaring at her.
“Good. I like complacency in a future subject.” Madeleine smirked and stepped back to reveal a hole for the sapling. “The ground is yours, my queen.”
Emma takes the baby apple tree from the pot ad places it into the hole, scooping dirt in around it. “Everyone, the work we do today will benefit future generations. They deserve something worth inheriting.”
The crowd claps and Queen Regina spoke again “Thank you, your gracious Apple Queen. As for your final honor…”
Drake watched as Liam knelt beside her “You are entitled to a kiss, my Queen.”
“Liam, I humbly accept your offer.”
“As my queen wishes.” Prince Liam rises, gently leaning in and kissing her on the cheek.
I want to kiss that cheek. I’m the cup-bearer. I’m the one she trusts. Why can’t that be me? Why must Liam get everything he always wants?
Drake frowned. No. There was no way he was feeling jealousy towards Liam right now. Jealousy was not his thing. He loved Liam, he wanted him happy. But then…when do I get be happy?
With the tree planted and the kiss received, the crowd dispersed. Drake saw the Queen approaching Emma again, so he turned and walked away. He was no longer needed. He no longer had to keep up with the charade of cup-bearer.
Who am I kidding? She trusts me because we became friends. She trusts me because Liam told her to. I don’t have anything to give her. I can’t give her a damn thing but myself. And I’m not good enough.
He was practically back at the manor, when he felt someone grab his arm. He whirled around in surprise.
“Drake! I just wanted to say, I’m sorry I made you do that.”
“Rose, what are you talking about? Do what?”
She bit her lip nervously. “I’m sorry I made you part of the court. I know you hated it, I know you hate doing that type of thing but…when Regina said to choose someone I trusted with my life, someone I felt like I could say anything to in full confidence, it had to be you. It’s only you, and I think…well, I think it always has been.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek.
Drake’s heart melted in his chest. She gave him a nervous smile, then turned around and walked away.
I should go after her. I should thank her. I should say I feel the same about her. I should tell her I’ll always be there for her.
He swallowed. He couldn’t. He had to let her go. And it killed him.
@blackwidow2721 @sleepwalkingelite @flowerpowell @agent-bossypants @annekebbphotography @carabeth @imaketerriblechoices @notoriouscs
#the royal romance#the royal romance fanfic#trr fanfic#trr drake#drake walker#drake x mc#drake x emma#choices trr#trr#choices the royal romance#choices fanfiction
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