count roland

you outshine the morning sun, my son

obligatory bit of captain cobra while cleaning out cs wips folder. obligatory hamilton reference. obligatory baby jones. i couldn’t stop myself.

Henry Mills, to be honest, was tired of the crying.

Yes, he was a fifteen-year-old who was just now experiencing the pain of a baby sibling—Roland didn’t count; the child was walking and talking completely normally by the time they met—but he was still terribly annoyed.

Liam was adorable. According to his moms, he looked like Henry himself as a baby. Henry didn’t really see it; Liam looked exactly like Killian except with hair of a lighter brown, more like his. According to Regina, Liam was a much better baby than Henry—she said it with a reminiscent smile just tinged with pain and remembrance.

But good heavens, Liam cried so much.

He spent as much time over at Regina’s as he could, but really he needed to see Emma too. So every now and then he suffered through a night or two of a screaming six pounds of young infant.

He read to the kid as much as he could, since Killian claimed that the boy sometimes actually slept a few hours at night after said story. Therefore, Henry tried to be decent and take Liam off Emma and Killian’s hands for a while so they could get a modicum of sleep. He held the kid in one arm—after Killian showing him how to not drop the wiggling child—and flipped the pages in the book.

He could have sworn that Liam preferred the tale of Charles and Leia without being told that the two were his parents.

Keep reading

In A Different Life… Asajj Ventress secretly returns to Dathomir
Roland Mouret, Fall 2017

In a galaxy far, far away but in a different life… Ky Narec does not die and he returns to the Jedi Order together with his Padawan Asajj Ventress. Her life within the Jedi Order is one trials and tribulations, and she more then aware that most Jedi Order doesn’t accept her. During the Clone Wars she takes a leave and secretly returns to her home world Dathomir where she learns to ways learns the ways of the Witches of Dathomir. Although her stay there comes to abrupt end when discovers that the leader of her own clan Mother Talzin is in league Count Dooku

anonymous asked:

AU: Regina calls Roland her son!

His toes brush the floor as he kicks his legs slowly, untied shoelaces dragging forwards, then back, forward, back. Roland’s hands rest by his thighs, curled in to tiny fists as he gnaws on his lower lip, and he waits. He’s never been in trouble before. Not really. Once, he’d had to sit still for a whole ten minutes because he’d thrown a ball inside the house and broke the TV. But this is different. He wasn’t at home this time. 

It’s her heels he hears first. That tell-tale ‘click clack’ of Regina’s stiletto’s, and he sinks a little in his chair. Not Regina, anyone but Regina. He bites his lip a little harder and bows his head, trying really hard not to cry. He’s going to be in so much trouble, and Regina’s going to be so disappointed, and he’ll never be able to make cookies with her again, or help her tell stories to the baby, or go out for ice-cream with Henry. 

“Roland?” He sniffs and flinches as Regina stops by his side, crouching down a little so she can look up at him instead of down, and he looks away, fighting off tears. He doesn’t want to be in trouble. He didn’t do anything wrong. 


“Roland, honey, look at me.” One of her hands moves to rest over his as they reposition in his lap, wringing together nervously and she stops him from fidgeting. Her other hand rises, her finger curls in and comes to brush under his chin, her thumb moving in soothing circles over his cheek, and his chest shudders a little. He’s seen her do this before. With Henry, mostly. But sometimes with him. When he fell over and scraped his knee, when she woke him up after a nightmare, when he said he didn’t want a sister. 

When she finds out what he did, will she stop?

He sniffs again and finally looks up, eyes dark and wet, and she doesn’t look angry. Her head’s cocked to the side, long hair falling to curtain her face as she smiles at him softly. “There you are,” she coos, and he smiles a little. That smile falls as the door across from him opens and the man steps out, the prince man, the man in charge. He looks a little nervous, but he doesn’t have a reason to be nervous. Not like Roland does. What if, when the man tells Regina that he’s in trouble, that he did a bad thing… what if she doesn’t want him anymore? What if she leaves him, like his mama did before? 

Regina’s head turns, her chin moving to rest on her shoulder as she looks over at the man, raises her brow and turns back to Roland, offering him a small smile. She stands, moving her hand to slide fingers through his hair. “Stay here, Roland. This won’t take long.” 

He hopes she’s right.

He watches as she turns on her heel and strides forward. She stops being Regina then. She’s the Mayor, the Queen, and the man swallows a little, chances a glance at Roland that has him hanging his head and averting his eyes. He’s in so, so, so much trouble.

The door closes behind them and Roland is left alone in the hallways, his feet kicking back and forth, his hands curling around the edge of the seat. He can’t hear what they’re talking about, the prince man and Regina, but he can see through the blinds if he strains his neck. They’re both sitting, and the man is talking, but he can’t see Regina well enough to know if she is too. All he can see is the top of her knee, her hands in her lap. 

And then she leans forward, and he can’t really see her face but she looks tense, angry, and his brow furrows. He wants to know what she’s saying, what the prince man is saying back, so he looks around. There really is no one else in the hall, just him. The lady behind the desk can’t see him from here… 

Roland slides forward a bit, letting his feet drop flat to the floor and he slowly, very slowly, tip toes towards the door. If there was one thing he’d learned from being a Merry Man, even if he was the littlest, it was how to sneak around. No one notices him press his ear to the door, not the prince man, not the lady behind the desk, not Regina. 

“Ms. Mills,”

“Madame Mayor,” she corrects. “Or Your Majesty… I’m not particularly picky.”

“Madame Mayor… You have to understand, our policy on physical assault is there for a reason. We can’t overlook Roland’s choice to attack another student, I’m sorry.”

“Oh, but you can overlook bullying and harassment? I am not an idiot, Mr. Mazur. Roland is not the kind of boy to start a fight.”

“Be that as it may, Madame Mayor, he did and –”

“And what? He was defending himself against a child older and taller and stronger! Where were you when names were thrown at his face like knives?”

“Madame Ma-”

“No. You don’t get to speak. If you think, for one second, that you’re going to punish my son for standing up to a bully, you clearly don’t know who you’re dealing with.”

That’s all he hears. 

Because that’s the last thing she says.

The door opens and he stumbles forward a little, manages to get his bearing and stand up straight just before he ends up crashing in to Regina’s legs. Sheepishly, he looks up at her and her eye brow is raised, her cheeks are slightly flushed and she still looks angry, but her eyes soften as he smiles up at her. Holding out her hand, Regina waits until he places his own in her palm before striding forward, giving him a gentle push to lead him out the door.

They leave the Principal without a second glance, and Regina hoists him up on to her hip before they reach the exit. He’s a little too big for this now, a little too heavy, but neither one of them complain. Roland rests his head on her shoulder and closes his eyes, all the worry and fear and concern finally catching up to him and gosh, he’s tired.

And he’s her son.

Yeah… he’s her son.

Vikings so far:

Count Odo: You should not believe Rollo, your majesty.

The Emperor: Oh, ok.


Lagherta, after pulling logs and pushing ships for over 4 months, amongst other things: I can´t belive i lost my child. I though i could defy destiny.


Roland the Noble: You should not belive Count Odo, your majesty, look at my evidences (waves hands in the air).

The Emperor: Oh, ok.


Björn: If only i coud figure out who tried to kill me…

Torvi: Thor fucking Heldenhammer, thank him you´re hot.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Robin introduces Roland to Regina for the first time :D

AN: I’m sorry it took me so long to get to it. I’ll be working on the other prompts later tonight. All mistakes are my own. Thank you for this one!! :)

Rated: K


It’s a busy morning in Grannys today. The sun is shinning brightly outside and people are milling about with smiles on their faces, seemingly oblivious to the looming threat of the new witch in town. Generally, on the rare occasion that she comes here for the food, Regina sits in her usual spot at the counter, eating her breakfast of apple pancakes with a mug of coffee on her own. However, today, she’s sitting in a booth, awaiting the arrival of her… well… whatever he is, like she has been for the last few days. 

Since that night in the forest the week before, her and Robin have decided to meet for breakfast everyday. It had been proposed by the former queen — initially — but then Robin had requested it to be a daily occurrence. Not that she was complaining. With the impending risk of her existence hanging over her head, Regina wants to spend as much of her time as she can with the people that she deems make her happy. It just so happens that Robin is one of those people.

A familiar mop of curly brown hair springs into view beneath her table, making Regina gasp before his sweet little face looks up at her and he brings one of his fingers to his lips. “Shh.” She wonders how she missed him crawling under her table in the first place.

Regina bites her bottom lip to stifle a smile as she looks up to see the boy’s father just enter the diner, a look of panic on his face. Their eyes meet and his shoulders relax a bit, and he walks straight towards her.

“Have you seen my son?” he asks, his brows furrowed with worry. Regina wonders, with all that’s been happening, if it’s safe to play along with the boy’s charade. She doesn’t want to cause any additional worry for him. Not anymore than she already has. She doesn’t fight her smile this time, but she shakes her head in the negative. His lips pull into a smile as he catches on.

“I’m afraid I haven’t, Mr. Locksley,” she answers, the corner of her mouth pulling into a smirk. The both catch the giggle beneath the table and Robin slides into the seat, opposite to her.

“Ah, now that is a problem,” he says mockingly, fighting to keep a straight face. The way he reaches out for her, his hand sliding across the table, palm up, is almost automatic if not for the slight crinkle in his expression that shows he’s worried she won’t take it.

“Most definitely,” she answers, lifting her hand from her lap and slipping it into his. She lets out a small breath, forcing her eyes to remain on his expression instead of checking if anyone is watching them. They hadn’t really touched much. Not since that night when she’d kissed him. They hadn’t had much of an opportunity for it, nor did she wish to flaunt something still so new and fragile in front of everyone. She hears Roland giggle again, and feels his small hands on her ankles. She has to lean back from the table as he pulls himself up into her lap, grinning mischievously at his father across from him.

“Hi, papa,” he beams. Regina’s free arm automatically wraps around Roland’s small torso, holding him loosely. 

“Hello, my boy,” Robin says, clearly amused. “Did you greet the Queen?” Roland nods quickly.

“Just now,” he answers, his large eyes blinking innocently. Robin chuckles, making the warm feeling in Regina’s chest expand. 

“I’m not sure that counts as a greeting, Roland,” his father chastises, but from the way his tone remains the same, Regina can tell he’s not angry. She wants to tell him that it’s alright. That she doesn’t mind. But she knows better than to put her nose into somewhere it doesn’t belong. She wouldn’t want anyone else cutting in on the way she would discipline Henry, making him disregard her authority. At the thought of her own son, her smile falls a fraction, her grip on both the boys before her loosening. Robin seems to notice and his hold on her hand tightens, an encouraging look directed at both her and Roland.

“Hello, Regina,” Roland says, turning in her lap, only to face her. She smiles again, eyes warming. So, he knows her name. Her eyes flicker over to Robin before looking back at his son.

“Hello, Roland.”

“Papa told me a lot about you,” he grins. The innocence in which he says it only makes Regina let out a small laugh, pretending not to notice the slight blush on Robin’s face. 

“Really?” she says, a teasing edge to her voice. “What kind of things?”

“That you’re the prettiest lady he’s seen,” he supplies enthusiastically.

“What else?” she asks, watching as the boy purses his lips in thought.

“That you’re strong and intel…lient.”

“Intelligent,” Robin says, speaking up. Regina’s eyes tear away from the boy in her lap, to look across the table. She knows her cheeks are burning just as much as his are. And she isn’t quiet sure whose hands got clammy in the past few moments but neither of them let go. She wants to kiss him again, she realizes, her eyes falling to his lips. 

“So is your father,” Regina says in a hushed tone; serious, compared to how it had been before. Roland’s giggle makes them tear their eyes away from one another and back to the boy.

“You think my papa is pretty?” His dimpled face grins up at her, a curious expression on his face. Regina laughs in response, her brows quirking up.

“Oh, yes. Very pretty.”

She means for it to be teasing, but she’s the one who ends up blushing when Robin throws a wink her way.

Very pretty indeed.

anonymous asked:

Her verse prompt: how and when do robin and Regina get engaged or married

This is obviously a part of “Her” verse, but can be read independently. Hope you enjoy!

Her Parents: 

They are together. They love each other.

But the rest is complicated.

He’s not sleeping, hasn’t slept well in the weeks since they’d returned to Storybrooke, regardless of the fact that she’s pressed into his side, holding on to him, loving him, staying with him, even when he doesn’t deserve any of it. Has there ever been anyone so undeserving as he, he wonders, and he looks back at her, vision that she is, gently tracing the faint scar just above her lip with the pad of his finger. His heart aches as he thinks of all the scars she bears internally, more than any human should have to bear, he thinks, and he winces at the reality that some have been carved by his own hand.

He’s hurt her. God, he’s hurt her terribly. And he hates himself for it.

What’s worse is that he continues to hurt her without meaning to, cursing himself when his pain seeps outward at the worst of times. He snaps at her when he shouldn’t. He gets impatient with Roland who has no idea why his Papa is acting so differently as the boy clings to Regina more than he had before they’d gone to New York, making her look back at him with a mixture of pity, love and out-and-out frustration which frustrates him even further. He avoids people, not wanting to meet their stares or hear their whispers, whether real or imagined, for Storybrooke is a small town and every citizen is all too aware of the fact that Zelena is pregnant and that the baby is his. Even the company of his men brings no solace, no joy, so he sits, he mopes, he carves and hunts in solitude.  

He curses repeatedly into the branches and thick undergrowth. He cries into his pillow when Regina is at work and the boys are at school. He wallows in self-pity and self-loathing, detesting himself more with each passing day, wondering why in God’s name he hadn’t paid more attention to his instincts and less to his code of honor.

His life is shit, and it’s no one’s fault but his own.

Keep reading