#But Charles is keeping him safe so woo

[ask-keith-the-basement-dweller]

Hey Keith! Sorry I haven’t been active! Me and the other workers are at a vacation at the Bermuda Triangle! Did you know the island here is fantastic!

So how’s it going back home? Hope you have Chales by your side!

- Pat! (And Karloff and Byron)

[The letter back is written very sloppily but still readable even with the spelling mistakes]

It has been...confusing.

First boss and this orange little alien were screaming to me about this Floig thing...

Next thing I know I'm dealing with an angry mother and her crying child about her Floig getting stolen

.....everyone is gone again. Like Liz, Matt, all the other special guests, that orange thing and boss! Kinda like...the panic park incident...

Bbut I'm sure everything's fine! Charles here says so themselves [Cut to tiny doodle of Charles going "It's okay!" Beside the words]

So, yeah! Keep enjoying your vacation, and take lots of poggers photos of it for me!

-Keith

(BTW- Boss is teaching me today's slang!)

[....the most concerning thing was probably that ending part]

[blairsreddress]

Part-time lover.

Dear readers, when Summer casually informed Nikki that Kyle had moved on with Audra, we saw the rage boiling up inside Nikki. Nikki already disliked Audra. When Nikki discovered that the same woman who tormented Noah with the tale of miscarrying a nonexistent baby was now wedged between Kyle and Summer reuniting, we knew it wouldn't be pretty for Audra.

But Audra was brilliant in winning over Victor. She has at least one Newman in her corner. The most important Newman, in fact. Nikki told Audra in no uncertain terms that she had to end her affair with Kyle if she wanted to continue to be employed at Newman Media. Audra lied through her teeth and swore that she'd never smash with Kyle again. We instantly knew she was lying.

Readers, Zuleyka Silver is an old-style soapy vixen. Every soap used to have a bad girl who seduced and schemed her way across town, and today, Audra Charles is that girl. I went from being totally annoyed by her to finding her one of the most exciting characters on the canvas. She slithers into every scene with an agenda. She has the most powerful men of Genoa City, including Tucker, Nate, Kyle, and Victor, all under her spell and doing her bidding. She's never met a problem she can't squirm out of. And her wardrobe is to die for. She looks stunning every day in every scene. In the real world, we are offended by women using their sexuality to get ahead, but in the soap world, it's the standard.

I am waiting for the day when Audra gets busted. After swearing she would end things with Kyle, Nate has already seen Audra and Kyle together. Will Nate tell Nikki to score points, or will he keep Audra's secret safe so he can keep boffing Victoria in the break room? Will the two of them strike a deal? I suspect they will, as they are both opportunists with highly suspect moral compasses guiding them through life.

Meanwhile, Kyle is being wooed back across town to Jabot with the bait that Jack needs to fire Billy for Kyle to return. Diane said she didn't want to influence Jack with her thoughts. Still, she immediately tried to influence Jack with her opinion. Diane wants her son back at Jabot because she feels they are losing him. If Kyle leaves Newman Media, will Nikki be able to have any say over who she dates? Since it's a family company, Nikki could invent some reason to fire Audra if she wanted to get rid of her. While an employer can set up rules for employees dating, I don't know of any companies where an employer can have a say in your love life except for churches and the military.

If Kyle returns to work at Jabot for Jack, that will take him out of Audra's orbit and put him into Summer's. Will daily interaction make them realize how much they miss each other and try to find a way back together for Harrison's sake? The thing is, I love the character of Summer just like I love her crazy mom, Phyllis. I root for them even when they make terrible choices that are at the root of their own heartbreak. I have asked myself, if I was Summer and my mom was in trouble, is there anything I would not do to save her? I would do anything to save her. I would take her side over anyone's side on earth. She is gone now and was not the person who would have faked her death for revenge, but you get my point. I see Summer's point of view and understand her actions.

In like manner, if I look through Kyle's lens, I see his point of view just as clearly. If my mom was in jail for a murder she didn't commit, and my spouse knew and didn't tell me, I'd have a hard time forgiving that, too. I don't know if this couple can be saved, but I hope they can. In the meantime, I think Summer and Chance should have a fling, and I will keep writing that in my column every week until someone listens to me and lets them connect.

There is something I have noticed on Y&R that is different from the old days. It used to be Victor vs. Jack -- the competition was between Newman and Jabot. But now it's all internal family fighting. Jack is fighting Ashley and Billy, and Victor is refereeing fights with Victoria, Nick, and Adam. I don't find it as satisfying as the rivalries from the glory days of Y&R. Am I alone in this?

Dear readers, as you may know, I write Two Scoops for both Y&R and General Hospital. Last week, I posed a question to my GH readers that I will now pose to you. Which current storylines will pass the test of time and be discussed 20 years from now? Any? I miss the old catfights of Jill vs. Kay, the Abbotts and the Newmans' clashes, Gloria the gold digger, Victor going to Kansas and falling for Hope (Adam's mama!). I even miss the wack-a-doo storylines, like Drucilla accidentally sleeping with Malcolm because she drank too much Nyquil and thought he was Neil; Cassie's death; Daniel and Lily running away together; Paul, Cricket, Danny, and Phyllis; and even the creation of new companies like Tag and Grab and Restless Style were fun to watch.

Right now, Phyllis faking her death was the most exciting storyline, but I miss Jeremy Stark because he was so pretty. Yes, I am that shallow.

Currently, many of the storylines leave me unimpressed. Watching Victoria and Adam fight for the 800th time over who is Daddy's favorite just doesn't wow me. We aren't quite at the redundancy levels of B&B's two never-ending triangles, Liam/Hope/Steffy or Ridge/Taylor/Brooke, but it's getting there. I find myself rolling my eyes a lot.

But perhaps I am just impatient. Maybe things are just about to get juicy. The previews at the end of Friday's episode suggested that Nick would choose to run Kirsten Inc. with Sharon, leaving his seat open. Victoria starts a pitch about who she thinks should be in that seat, and Victor shuts her down. He said he had already decided who to fill the role with and that it would not be Nate. Also, at the end of Friday's episode, he was at Adam's door. I can't decide. Will Victor give Adam the role, or will he give Audra the position and put Adam back at the helm of Newman Media? Either way, Victoria will be furious, and that will delight me.

I need to say that I love Amelia Heinle. My dislike of her cold-as-ice character has nothing to do with her. Well, wait. That's not entirely true. It has to do with the fact that she is a fantastic actress who convinces me daily that she is a cold, entitled, selfish woman who doesn't care who she hurts as long as she wins.

I know from years of writing for Soap Central that expressing my dislike of a fictional soap character often prompts people to write to defend the actor. Trust me, it's never about the actor. If I think someone is a bad actor, I will say so. But in this instance, I find Amelia Heinle to be a delightful person on her social media! But Victoria Newman is a character that I rarely root for. I want her to lose. I want her to go down hard. I want Adam to beat her and ascend to the throne just because she is so confident that he can't.

If you disagree, that's totally cool. We watch the same TV show and like different characters.

Right now, Victoria Is fuming that Victor made all the changes to the company structure while she was out of town and didn't even consult her. He had to remind her that his name is on the door, it's his company, and he can do as he pleases.

Readers, I know that someday, Eric Braeden will retire. I dread that day. I can't imagine Y&R without him. I can't imagine the Newman family without their patriarch pulling the strings. I adore Eric Braeden both on- and off-screen. This past week, when he had the big family meeting to inform them of his decisions when Adam reminded Victor that he hadn't done anything differently than Victor would have done going after something he wanted, Victor gave his son a wink that was everything.

Mark Grossman is electric to me. I never ever fast-forward an Adam scene. When Adam is angry, I'm a little scared. When Adam is lovesick, I feel it. When Adam is grieving, I cry with him. When Adam is immature and selfish, I understand why his siblings find him annoying. He brings every facet of Adam's character to life, and I greatly appreciate his work. I root for him over his sister because he's the underdog. He's always been the one who didn't fit in. He's always danced outside the circle, trying to get in.

But do I trust him? Nah. He told Sharon he'd be willing to start at the bottom of the mailroom and work his way up if needed. How long do you really think that would last? But perhaps this time, he is sincere. For fun, let's assume he is genuine and wants to make things work with his family. If it is true, will Victoria ever embrace him? Will Nikki? Can he ever get himself all the way inside the family circle? Time will tell.

Nick's offer to fund Sally's new company is intriguing -- she wants him to be hands-off. Unlike the rest of his family, Nikolas isn't all about money. I think he may honor his agreement with Sally, but I am not sure he can keep from offering his opinions. I hope Chloe comes back to partner with her, despite their rocky past. I enjoy the friendship between the two of them.

Nick's ex Phyllis, the supposedly changed woman, is gently meddling in Daniel's love life and seems downright giddy that Heather is still in town. Doesn't she recall that her visit to Heather and meddling in Daniel's love life before is one of the things that drew a wedge between them? But this time, I think Heather is on board. I think she has seen that Daniel has turned his life around, and she's changed her mind about being done with him. I'm a little torn here because I like Daniel and Lily. I also like Heather, so I will keep an open mind and allow the writers to take me along on the ride and see where Daniel lands.

But which writers? The writers' strike is still in full force. I have already noticed creative editing where characters have flashbacks of things they said three days ago to fill up the time between new and old scenes. I know that GH is using scab writers. Is Y&R, too? I honestly don't know. What I know is that many of the current storylines are not connecting with viewers, and I hope viewers don't give up on the lackluster plots and give up watching before the strike is settled. The next sweeps period for 2023 is October 26 to November 22. That's usually the climax of all the big storylines we wait for all year -- but will we even have any stories with cliffhangers that need thrilling conclusions? I sure hope so.

What will happen tomorrow, dear readers? Will Tessa return from her tour to an empty house and wonder where baby Aria and Mariah have gone? Will Lily still want to have coffee dates with Heather when she realizes Heather wants Daniel back? Will Adam invent a new mail sorter in the mailroom that saves the company millions and fall back into Victor's favored child role? Will Sally decide which brother she wants or keep them both hanging on the line?

Will Audra sleep with Adam if he becomes her new boss and leave Kyle by the wayside? Will Sharon be able to turn Kirsten Inc. into a success, or will one of Cameron's long-lost kinfolk show up and try to take it from her? Will Jack realize that Billy is right about Diane and that their post-nuptial contract isn't as cut and dried as Diane claimed? Will Tucker have an answer for why Ashley is missing, or did he lock her up someplace so he can take her patents and reclaim his empire?

Only tomorrow knows, dear readers, and I will tune in tomorrow as long as there are tomorrows. Tamilu

[vanillasakura]

it's revswanson! it won't let me ask from my gaming blog but for the character thingy if you're still up for it...

adult jack with numbers 2, 5 and 19

uncle (rdr1 and/or rdr2) with 17

and abigail with whichever ones you were wanting to answer, even all of them ;)

Jack:

2.) Who he wants to please the most

During rdr1, Jack really just wants to please his parents. He feels so guilt ridden over what happened to both of them (even though absolutely none of it was or could have been his fault) and despite how depressed he is, he just wants to know that they’ll find peace if he takes down the man who ruined their lives

5.) A cherished personal belonging

From John: Arthur’s journal. It was left to him upon his death, and was the first time Jack really got to know his uncle on the level his parents did. By extension, it’s also a reminder of his father

From Abigail: Her engagement ring. He always keeps it on his person, sewn into a little pocket that he always checks is extra secure. Sometimes he’ll take it out and fiddle with it if he needs something to do with his hands.

19.) When he feels safest

Honestly Rdr1 Jack never feels safe. He’s aware that everything could go wrong at any moment, and even though he doesn’t let it show, he’s terrified. I’m going off of my headcanons about older older Jack for this one

Anywhere with his kids or with Charles, Mary-Beth, Sadie, and Bonnie. If he’s with all eight of them, even better. They’re the people that reminded Jack that kindness does exist, and he loves them more than anything else in the world

Uncle:

17.) What he’d sing at karaoke

Okay laundry list time

Don’t Stop Believin’-Journey (he would duet with John when they’re both wasted off of their asses)

Bohemian Rhapsody- Queen (horribly but it’s okay we love him)

Blue- Eiffel 65

Jack would convince him to try and sing the Xie Hua Piao Piao Bei Fung Xiao Xiao song

The Sweet Escape- Gwen Stefani (but only the woo hoo yee hoo part somebody else sings the actual song)

Uncle knows he can’t sing so he never tries to sing a song seriously. For him, karaoke is about having as much fun and doing as much weird stuff as possible

Abigail:

1.) Something she’s truly proud of

Herself, easily. Abigail has come so far and has done so well for herself, sometimes she can’t help but smile when she looks around Beecher’s Hope and knows that all of this came from a mix of her and John’s hard work

10.) How she deals with pain

Abigail is a huuuuge romantic, so she definitely seeks comfort in her s/o. If we’re talking emotional pain, she’ll let her walls down, hoping that talking through everything with someone else will help

16.) Her sexuality

Bisexual queen. In fact, every single Marston is bisexual, I cannot see any of them as solely straight/gay

[holdmyhopeinyourhands]

Meanwhile W12 is getting wooed by SF21, pulling her to the side and watch the city lights. SF21 made her feel things that RB16 never did, her heart fluttering and she felt… safe.

SF21 was all the sacrifice that accumulated to F1-75 and he has made his peace with it. Charles and him had some good times and while F1-75 is breaking under the mistakes and SF90 is drowining in sorrow, SF21 holds his precious memories close and is grateful for how content he is and with W12, well life just keeps on getting better.

But then one day I sees Charles sitting in a corner looking so defeated and sad so he bails on his outing with W12 even forgets to send her a text as he goes and sit next to Charles, letting his driver use his shoulder to hide away from the world.

[post-modern-prometheus]

📓

these are gonna get longer the more i get ehehehe

ok so basically it's back to the future... two.

like peter has something that lets him run to an alternate timeline?? idfk but we talked ab this kinda one day but then the next day i had band class and we layed on the floor in the auditorium in the dark for an hour and a half listening to music bc Tradition so i had a lot of time to think so here we go- with what i can remember cuz i cant find where i wrote it down bc i forget which day it was.

basically evil erik. kinda like supreme leader woo woo. and alternate timeline peter- pietro- is like his, in the words of evan peters, 'little minion'. bc he's just trying to make his dad love him :'( so peter gets there and is freaked the FUCK out. so he runs away to the xmen mansion... which is a pile of rubble. he's absolutely devastated but then boom someone knocks him on the head.

he wakes up and he's like woah! holy shit! never thought id be so happy to see scott. cuz all his friends are there. but theyre not as happy to see him as he is to see them. they, obviously, think he's evil peter. and he's like yeah. so i'm not. just get charles in here, he can read my mind and prove it. they're like. buddy charles is dead how dare you bring that up... esp since your dad killed him. and peter's like PARDON???? ERIK???? KILLED CHARLES??????????? but then hes like ok well you still gotta believe me. i'm me and not him okay-

and then a voice from the shadows is like "i believe him" and peter freezes because he hasn't heard her voice in YEARS no way that can't be- wanda steps out and oh look it's his dead twin. turns out in this universe, erik discovered that he had kids. but charles faked wanda's death or smth to keep her safe and away from erik so also this universe's peter/peitro thinks she's dead too. and so they're all like cool let's defeat erik now.

so they sneak back into erik's like. place or whatever. and as it turns out, alternate universe pietro didn't like being locked in a closet earlier (peter's like my b bud :/) so he fights peter, thinking that peter is raven, who he's long suspected of being a double agent for the xmen. and peter manages to be like "hey your sister's alive" and pietro's like "well why should i believe you" and peter's like "if there was even a chance that my sister was still alive, i'd take it". so that's how peter recruits peitro.

and so they go to take down erik, but pietro's kind of a pussy so erik sees through it and.

kills pietro.

and peter's like HNGNFH??Y*&^&980 cuz he just saw his dad kill... him.

that's really as far as i got but somehow peter gets through to erik with the help of the xmen and remorse for killing charles and pietro. and then gets back home and yeaaaaah

[bellamer]

A long time ago I had a Repo the Genetic Opera OC named Cecelia who was the Largo kids Chief Financial Officer that Rotti left behind that in the wake of his death, she would help his children run the company if god forbid one of them actually took over. Once Amber took over GeneCo, she started overspending on so much unnecessary shit, not to mention that her brothers were also taking from the budget and because new lawsuits were coming in and none of the Largo siblings knew how to handle them like Rotti did, so they were just paying off the people who were suing just however much they asked so she had to fix everything while learning how to deal with the Largo siblings.

Whenever Luigi got angry at her and tried to stab her, she learned how to counter this, by either dodging and making his knife get stuck in the walls, wearing phone books under her shirts so that he couldn't stab her midsection, or just stopping the knife with her hands and making him listen to her until he calmed down, or secretly replacing his knives with rubber knives when he wasn't looking, which ultimately cut down on the costs of constantly replacing GENterns.

She was more or less safe from Pavi because although he thought she was beautiful, he didn't care to steal her face because she was a black woman and he only stole faces that match his skin tone but it didn't stop his excessive flirting with her and him trying to woo her whenever she tried to talk to him about something serious.

Amber was sort of difficult to work with since she had a habit of throwing tantrums and whenever Amber got like that, she eventually learned to work around her and make decisions when Amber got all huffy or was spaced out from Zydrate from her latest surgery that she couldn't do anything. (She honestly prefers it when Amber is high and out of it because it makes it was to run things without her.)

She also takes care of the lawsuits by appearing in court and pulling all she can to make the defendant lose and if that doesn't work, she sends out Repomen to kill the person suing.

Cecilia runs GeneCo behind the scenes because all of the Largo siblings are incompetent in running the company and if it wasn't for her, GeneCo would have gone bankrupt or would be run to the ground and she tends to keep the Largo siblings in the dark about things. She knows the risks are that they'll probably have her killed if they find out, but she has a plan for that.

I loosely based her off of Charles Foster Ofdensen from Metalocalypse.

[jackyjango]

Mr & Mr. Xavier-Lehnsherr

Cherik Week- Day 1: Space AU/Powerbottom AU

So I couldn’t decide which I liked more- the Space AU or the Powerbottom AU, so I mixed the two and added a Mr & Mrs Smith AU also into the mix for good measure, and here is the result!

Ratings: Mature

-----

Miles and miles of slums stretch below the hull of the blackbird, dark and brooding, lighted here and there by flecks of neons and the dim starlight. The settlements below them are so unlike the illuminated skyline of Hyperion that Charles would have readily believed that they were on an alien quadrant of space if he hadn’t already known otherwise.

Charles isn't familiar with this quadrant of space-- which really is a good thing this time. If he isn't, so isn't the Agency. With Erik hijacking their escape, Charles doesn't know where they're headed to either. The prospect of running away from everything and everyone he’s familiarised all his life should agonise Charles, because if things go south, he has no means of escape. He’s simply stuck. But it doesn't. Not when Erik is setting the course for their destination beside him with a determined scowl on his face. 

He trusts Erik, Charles realises. And not for the first time, Charles wonders when that happened.

If you ask his late sister, she'd probably say that Charles had always had the hots for the bad boys. 

Maybe it's true. Maybe that's how Charles had ended up willingly in their marriage bed. Maybe it's the ease with which Erik fights that had drawn Charles to him-- the confidence with which he uses his body to ensure maximum destruction, the fluidity with which he flares phasers as though they were an extension of his arm. Maybe Charles had been attracted to the grace with which Erik wielded his physical form in a way Charles would never be able to in his field of work. Maybe it's the aura that swirls around Erik for being the best mercenary on the planet. Or, maybe it’s just the roguishly handsome figure Erik cuts in a leather jacket and aviators with a cigarette caught loosely between his thin lips. The thing is, Charles doesn't know. And that's a tad antithetical coming from a man who had made knowing everything his job.

Charles wasn't a field agent. No. He was far from it (He’d wanted to prove to his sister that violence and bloodshed weren't the only ways and means of espionage). He was a master extrapolator, a master manipulator; the best in the Agency. He was called on demand and assigned to cases in which the stakes were high, when tensions had to be subdued and classified and clandestine information had to be drawn out of his targets through manipulation and seduction. Just like he had been assigned to a case two years ago with the orders to glean classified information from a dangerous mercenary working for Shaw’s Agency. One, Erik Magnus Lehnsherr.

Funny, how two years later the master manipulator had ended up being manipulated. And not for the first time, Charles curses his treacherous heart.

'What do you see in him that you're willing to sacrifice your career and life?' Emma had asked him that morning after everything had gone tits up and their covers had been blown. 

'He has a big dick, Emma,' Charles had replied dryly. 'And he knows how to use it.'

Though that had been one of the reasons why Charles had fallen into bed with Erik so readily in the beginning, it wasn't what had kept him there-- not entirely, at least. What had kept him there had been the good in Erik-- buried under piles and piles of hatred, anger, cynicism and narcissism, but good nonetheless-- pure and bright as a star.

'We're safe now,' Erik says, breaking the silence that had settled over them and pulling Charles out of his churning thoughts. 

Erik checks the radar once more and plots a new route to their destination.

Good. Emma’s team must have lost their track and Shaw must have backed off. Or maybe their employers are just buying time to join their forces and renew their attack. Or this is just the clam before the storm and Charles and Erik will be forced to resume their run. Or they could bide their time and be prepared for Emma and Shaw when they come for them the next time. Regardless of all those possibilities, if Erik says that they're safe for now, then they’re. Charles believes him. 

They cruise for a few more minutes in companionable silence as Erik sets the ship on autopilot.  Ghostly settlements stretched out before them, twinkling now and again like a fading supernova, an amber river cuts through the black patches like the lightning would cut through the storm clouds.

'How much of it was fake?' Erik asks without preamble, voice inflectionless and face impassive. Apart from the obvious goes unsaid.

Charles huffs out a breath. He leafs through the memories in his mind, memories of Erik and him tangled in their bed, giving pieces of themselves to each other, memories dusted over a duration of two years in a home in Hyperion that they called theirs, and Charles realises with a high blush on his cheeks that he'd given a lot of himself in the process-- way more than what was required to keep the pretence intact. 

He doesn't know where to begin, so Charles looks out of the plexiglass window into the settlements stretching below them as far as his eyes can take him. 'I wasn't lying about loving tea,’ he says, because out of everything that he’d shared with Erik in their year of marriage, that had been the first. ‘I wasn't lying about hating your smoking,’ he says, and ponders whether to continue or not, to compromise his heart more than he already has. Then again, what else has he got to lose from it?. So he ploughs on, ‘I wasn't lying about my anxiety or how much I love cuddling.’ Charles huffs out a breath. ‘Raven used to call me a cuddle whore. I wasn't lying about my sister or about drowning myself in substances after her death. I wasn't lying about my abusive step-father or step-brother. I wasn't… I wasn't lying about loving you.' 

'And you?' Charles asks, turning towards Erik. A heavy weight settles at the bottom of his gut over the possibility that Erik might not share his feelings. That Erik had been the exceptional husband he had been for the last year only to further his own agenda. That every time Erik had said that he’d loved Charles, he’d only said it to fulfill his mission. 

Charles’ hands begin to tremble where they're fiddling on his cuff links.

Erik smirks. 'The only thing I was lying about was liking your cooking.'

Relief floods Charles' system, heady and potent, and a boisterous laugh bubbles up from his chest. 'Why, Erik, you speak as though you're a gourmet, chef' Charles says, recovering.

'You wouldn't be saying that after I cook you dinner,' Erik says, smiling. Something in the way he says it reminds him of Erik's proposal a year and a half ago in a cafe by the road in Hyperion, only this time, there's something real behind the twinkle in his eyes. Something honest. And that's when it hits him.

'Are you trying to woo me, Mr. Lehnsherr?'

Erik grin with all his teeth. 'Only if you want to be, Mr. Xavier'

And God, he wants to be. It's a giddy thought, to be chased by someone like Erik, only this time they both know the outcome of it.

Suddenly, the coldness of his seat is unbearable. Discarding his suit jacket, Charles moves across his own seat over to Erik's and swings his leg to straddle Erik. 

Erik's hands settle on his hips while Charles grabs the lapels of Erik's leather jacket. Erik's looking at him with a small smile, and something akin to wonder in his eyes. 

Ah! That's why he had been drawn to Erik all those months ago, that’s why he’d fallen into bed so easily with Erik, and that’s why he blew his mission and everything he’d worked for in his life to run away into an unknown quadrant of space with the man he called his husband- to have Erik look at him like that. To have such an effect over someone as aloof and elusive as Erik. The power and head rush it had given him then had been addictive. It still is.

'Listen to me, Mr. Lehnsherr,’ Charles says as haughtily as possible, leaning down to brush his lips against Erik’s. ‘You're going to take me on a date in a respectable restaurant like a proper gentleman. You're going to kiss me goodnight after. You'll fuck me after our third date just the way l like, and if you behave, I'll even let you propose to me. For real this time.'

Erik nods slowly, as though he’d intended to all of that anyways. 'And now?' he asks, voice deep, rich and smooth like velvet.

'And now,' Charles says, rubbing his thumb gently over one sharp cheekbone. 'I'll ride you into your seat and you’ll pay me back with a scalp massage when we disembark.'

Erik smirks. 'You weren't faking being bossy either, were you?' 

'I wasn't faking about a lot of things, darling,’ Charles says fondly and reaches for Erik’s belt.

-

[awackyphdinadorkable]

Cherik Moodboard - Royalty AU

When King Erik arrives at Westchester Castle as one of the suitors for Princess Raven, he is not sure what to expect. His invitation to come see Genosha was politely yet resolutely turned down by Prince Charles. It came as a surprise to Erik. After all, one of the conditions to even be considered as a suitor for the princess was that she would call the respective suitor’s kingdom her new home.

Though Erik can’t say that he knows much about the inner workings of royalty. He is an elected king, not one chosen by the texture of his royal blood. And if it wasn’t for his people, he would stay clear of any political machinations on the mainland. But if he wants to be involved in the meddling, if he wants to ensure that his people are safe, he needs a more solid standing among the royals. Because his people are special, and so they need special care.

Thus, a marriage is in order.

Princess Raven is a pleasure to the eye and to have conversation with. What causes Erik more irritation is her older brother Charles. While he invited them to the castle and is by all means a perfect host, Erik finds the man rather strange. He is charming but seems to always keep a safe distance, never letting on just what he feels or wants. And Erik wants to know what people he is dealing with. After all, the safety of his people is at stake.

Nonetheless, the wooing proceeds. Princess Raven seems charmed enough by him, though the prince’s personal assistant Hank seems not at all pleased about that circumstance. If Erik is not mistaken, the man is quite enchanted by the princess, but does not seem to have the courage to act upon it.

One night, as Erik wanders about the castle aimlessly, he finds Prince Charles on the ground after he seemingly fell down a flight of stairs. Erik tries to help, but Charles is oddly agitated, calling out to Hank all the while and refusing to stand up or let Erik help him stand.

Though Erik soon understands the reason why: Apparently, the prince lost the ability to walk and has since cleverly disguised that circumstance with the aid of both the princess and his assistant. Because, like Erik and his people, Charles was born with special abilities. Just that his abilities allow him to read and even change the minds of others. And so, leaving everyone under the impression that he is walking when he is, in fact, in a wheelchair, is no longer an impossible task.

To secure his family’s castle and ensure the safety of his people, some of whom are also gifted like them, Charles had to take more drastic measurements to find his sister a suitor. With the many conditions tied to the marriage to Princess Raven, he hopes to make sure that both she and their people are safe and remain hidden from view of people who may easily take advantage of their gifts. Charles explains that since he met Erik, he grew most sure that he is the only one he’d trust to marry his beloved sister. And that is the only reason why he dares to take the risk not to erase the truth from Erik’s memory.

Already in their youths the Raven and Charles agreed that she would ascend the throne, as Charles had no intention to rule, whereas Raven likened herself the position. Things changed after the incident that cost him his ability to walk - and to have an heir to inherit the throne of Westchester. Because that created a necessity where there used to be no more than an opportunity for the siblings to follow their dreams and truly be who they are. Because short before his father died, it was decided that if a royal holding a castle has no living heirs to continue the lineage, the castle would fall to the state.

And that is a risk they cannot take, not with some of the most vulnerable among them whose abilities can easily be exploited by the kings, queens, lords, and ladies alike.

Charles grew fearful after the incident that changed his life, not only for his own safety but that of his sister foremost. Because it was not mere accident. Raven has since taken that to mean that he wants to rule over her life and does not truly believe that she’d make for a good queen. Their tensions grew until a new deal was reached between the two: Raven would be queen beside her soon-to-be husband and one of her children would inherit Westchester, leaving Charles are regent until the child comes of age. Because Raven doesn’t see Westchester as her home anymore, she feels it is a cage and that she has to escape from it, from her brother.

While Erik feels for Charles and Raven, he does not believe that this is without alternative. Charles won’t be shaken, and neither will be his sister. The King of Genosha finds himself conflicted. He did not expect to fall in love with his future betrothed, after all, he also had a political agenda in mind when he came to Westchester. Nonetheless, he cares for the princess, and he would rather spare her a loveless marriage. But can he wait for another princess to give him a chance to speak with the other royals as equals and represent the interests of his people?

Though Erik is not the only one finding himself in an inner turmoil. Charles buried so many things inside him ever since the incident that the strong-willed warrior king from strange shores presents an escape he’d love to pursue. Genosha feels like a distant dream of a life without having to hide, not just as a man with special abilities, but also as a man with a certain inclination that kept him from seeking the throne and continuing the bloodline well before Raven showed interest in ruling Westchester as Queen.

Yet, despite their efforts, their attractions run contrary to their causes and the two find themselves unable to fight it anymore. But such an attraction is not only dangerous for its nature, it may well put at risk what both are desperate to protect. So is such desire, such love worth the risk, the sacrifice?

[verai-marcel]

Can we get a fic where some of the gang members including the f!reader go out drinking and Arthur gets loose and ends up sleeping w/ the reader, letting his feral out a bit? Love your writing >:)

Hidden Desires (RDR2 Fanfic, LH Arthur x F!Reader, 18+)

Summary: After a night of drinking, Arthur loses his self-control when you give him the opportunity to give into his hidden desires.

Author’s Notes: A lovely request from anon, oh yes. And since you didn’t pick an honor, we’ll get down and dirty with low honor Arthur!

Tags: shameless smut, low honor Arthur, Arthur x female!reader, rough sex, doggy style, light D/s tones, virgin reader, dirty talk

AO3 Link is here!

——————–

“C’mon, let’s go!”

Lenny shook his head. “I’m gonna pass. I had enough of drinkin’ for now.”

Javier shrugged. “Alright. Anyone else coming with me and Arthur?”

You laughed softly, recalling how Arthur had come back a few nights ago, drunk as a skunk, yelling something about never being taken alive and being an American before passing out in a field nearby. You had let him be, but had quietly waited nearby for him to wake up, keeping an eye out for wolves or coyotes. Ever since you had joined the gang, you had taken it upon yourself to take care of the gruff outlaw, knowing that deep down, he had a soft heart.

“I’ll go,” Charles said, walking towards the two other men.

Glancing around, you noticed that no one else seemed to want to go. “I’ll go too,” you finally said. “If only to make sure you boys get home safe.”

“We’ll be fine, that’s what Arthur’s for,” Javier said, jabbing a thumb in Arthur’s direction. “He’s learned his lesson, right?”

Arthur just shrugged.

Shaking your head, you followed the three men to their horses.

“Wait, what about me?”

The four of you turned to see Sean, jogging closer.

“Did ya t’ink you’d be able to go fer a pint wit’out invitin’ me?”

Arthur just sighed.

“The more the merrier,” Javier said, although you could tell he said it with a bit of reluctance.

“Well t’en, let’s get goin’!” Sean said jovially.

It was going to be a long night.

***

You had made the wise decision to only have 2 beers, slowly sipping your drinks to trick the boys into thinking you were drinking more than you actually had. In the same amount of time, they had drunk enough to stumble around the saloon, chatting up anyone and everyone. Well, Sean was, at least. Javier and Charles were trying to woo some ladies, while Arthur tried to keep up with Sean’s conversation.

Meanwhile, you stood at the bar, finishing your second and final beer. You smiled as Arthur stumbled over to you, leaving Sean to fend for himself.

“Had enough of Sean’s tall tales?” you asked, a teasing lilt to your voice.

Arthur grinned at you, leaning against the bar, tilting his head towards you. “More than enough for a whole lifetime.” He took a step closer to you, one hand sliding around your waist.

You blinked in surprise. Arthur had never been so close and touchy with you before. The warmth of his hand sparked a fire in you, the touch of his hand as his fingers caressed your hip making your heart beat faster. 

“Why, Mr. Morgan, you’re being awfully forward tonight,” you teased. 

“They don’t call it liquid courage for nothin’,” he joked. “Been wantin’ to talk wit'chu fer a long time, princess.”

His eyes said he wanted to do more than talk. 

Feeling bold, you moved closer to him. Leaning over to whisper in his ear, you grazed your lips against his earlobe. “Why don’t we talk somewhere more… private?" 

Arthur turned his head just enough that you felt his stubble against your cheek as he replied, "Whatever you’d like, my lady.”

***

You wasted no time getting a room and, holding Arthur by the hand, leading him upstairs to one of the farther rooms away from the saloon.

The second you were both inside, he slammed you against the door, rubbing his body against yours. His deep moan as he pressed his hard length against you vibrated through your body, and you responded in kind with a moan of your own.

“Arthur,” you keened, begging for more, your hands unbuttoning his shirt.

He kissed you as he fumbled at your buttons, the two of you almost comically rushing to remove each other’s clothing as inhibitions just careened out the window at record speed. His tongue invaded your mouth, exploring you, conquering you as he got your blouse open and then pulled your chemise down just enough to free your breasts. He grabbed them and squeezed, moaning as he dry humped you against the door.

Your hands made quick work of his buttons, exposing his wide chest to the air. Splaying your hands across his hard muscles, you ran your hands down his body, all the way down to his belt. Undoing the buckle, you felt him pull away.

Watching as he took his gun belt off and set it on a table, he tore off the rest of his clothes, quickly kicking off his boots until he was naked, his cock hard and ready for you.

“What’re you waitin’ fer, princess?” he asked, seeing that you had not moved from your place against the door. “Take’em off.”

You sauntered past him, letting your blouse and chemise flutter to the ground as you peeled them off one by one. Just as you reached the bed, prepared to unbutton your skirt, he suddenly came up behind you and shoved you onto the bed. Falling onto your stomach, your legs hanging off the side, you lifted yourself up only to suddenly be pushed down, Arthur’s hand on your neck, holding you in place. His other hand lifted up your skirt, flinging it upwards to reveal your cotton drawers.

“Get these damn things outta my way,” he growled.

You reached down, pulling your drawers off as best you could while being held down by Arthur’s powerful grip. You got them halfway down your legs before you couldn’t reach any further, and you started wiggling your legs to get them the rest of the way off.

Arthur smacked your bare ass.

“Ow!”

“Stop wigglin’.” He let go of your neck, grabbed your drawers, and pulled them off. Grabbing your hips, he pulled you closer to him, your lower half hanging off the bed. Stepping between your legs, Arthur ran a finger between your nether lips.

“So wet. This fer me, darlin’?”

“Only for you, Arthur.”

“You sure know the right things to say.”

You felt Arthur’s cock nudge your opening.

“Say you want it.”

“Please Arthur, I want it.”

“Want what, princess?”

“Your cock, I want your cock!”

Arthur chuckled as he slowly pushed himself inside of you, the sweet burn of his girth etched forever into your memory. His low groan as he made his way fully inside of you was erotically charged, his breath coming out in one slow, shudder when he hilted. “Fuck,” he muttered. “So tight, like you…”

He trailed off.

Then he grabbed your hair and pulled your head back.

“Am I yer first?” he asked quietly.

You didn’t respond.

Arthur bent over you, his chest pressing against your back. His lips grazed the shell of your ear as he gripped your hair harder and snarled. “Answer me, girl.”

“Yes,” you hissed back.

He suddenly let go of your hair and stood up straight, grabbing your hips. “Then I’ll make sure I’m your only one.”

He pulled out slowly, and re-entered you with such an unhurried pace that you squirmed. Spanking your ass hard, he then stroked your reddened skin when you whimpered.

“You behave now,” he murmured. “I’ll be good to ya.”

His thrusts started to speed up, his hands stroking you, pulling your hair, until he bent over you again and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, holding you tight.

You felt a tightening in your core, a spring being wound up to the point of breaking.

Arthur suddenly stopped and pulled away from you.

Crying out in loss, you barely had time to breathe before he flipped you onto your back and grabbed your legs, resting them on his shoulders as he pushed into you impatiently. He grabbed your breasts again, squeezing them, teasing your nipples between his thumb and finger while he fucked you. Staring down at you, an arrogant smirk on his face, he gripped your jaw. 

“Beg me to fuck you, princess.”

“Fuck me, please, Arthur, I need you to fuck me!”

Arthur’s grin widened as he reached down and stroked your clit. You started to tremble, your legs tensing against his shoulders, your hips lifting of their own accord as you were brought higher and higher to the peak.

With one hand, he lifted your ass up to change the angle as he rutted harder into you, while he rubbed your clit faster. His eyes darkened with lust as he watched you writhe below him.

“That’s it, be a good girl and let go fer me.”

Reaching out to grip his arms, you cried out, coming hard around his cock as he continued to pound into you. Digging your nails into his skin, you spasmed uncontrollably in his grasp until you finally came down from your ecstatic high and slumped on the bed, catching your breath.

“My turn,” Arthur said before he stepped away from you and sat down on the edge of the bed. He reached over and picked you up, settling you on his lap, facing away from him, your legs between his. His cock rubbed against your bottom, sliding between your buttocks. “Ride my cock until I’m done.”

You lifted yourself up and lowered yourself onto his thick shaft, your pussy still sore and sensitive from his thorough fucking. Slowly riding him, you looked behind you to see his eyes riveted on your behind.

“Like what you see?” you asked teasingly.

“Been wanting this fer so long,” he mumbled. He grabbed your ass and squeezed. “So beautiful. How can you be so damn perfect?”

You rode him harder, turned on by his complete infatuation with you. He couldn’t keep his hands off your ass while you bounced up and down on his length. He leaned in close to kiss your shoulder and stare down at your gorgeous rear, taking his cock with an eagerness that drove him wild.

“Fuck,” he uttered. “Stand up and bend over, princess.”

You did as he commanded and felt him stand up behind you, humping the crevasse of your ass until he moaned your name and you felt his spend spilling onto the small of your back.

He collapsed back down onto the bed, his arms spread out. You laughed at the sight of him, exhausted and sated. You lay down next to him and snuggled into his side.

“G’night Arthur,” you whispered.

You were answered by gentle snoring.

***

“What the…?”

You awoke to Arthur staring at you, his eyes blinking in disbelief.

“Yes?” you asked him politely, despite the fact that you were both naked. You both had fallen asleep on top of the covers.

“Did we…?” He gestured at you and himself.

“It was wonderful.”

Arthur was shocked for a moment, then regained himself. “Yes.” He cupped your cheek. “I thought… I thought it might have been a dream.”

You smiled at him. “No dream, Arthur. It was real. I only hope you remember what you told me.”

“Uh… of course.” He blinked and looked away for a split second.

You arched an eyebrow at him.

He sighed. “No, I don’t remember.”

“You said you were going to make sure you were my only one.”

Arthur nodded. “Well. Sounds like something I’d say.” He rolled over on top of you, and pumped his hips so you felt how hard he was at this moment. “Better make sure then.”

As he spread your legs and entered you once more, you felt like you had won the world.

——————-

End Notes: Really felt good to write so freely, just giving into what the scene looked like in my head and not worrying about plot. Thanks for the request anon, hope you enjoyed this little romp with Arthur!

[chuckepisodes]

Chuck vs. The Alma Mater Part 3

Here you all were. At Stanford. Everyone was going crazy for the football game. You, Chuck , Sarah and Ellie were walking around. You looked over at Chuck to see how he was doing and you could tell he was not enjoying this. "This is really freaking me out. It's like nothing has changed." Chuck said. " Is that good or bad?" Sarah asked. " It's, uh... It's, you know- Yeah, it's- Yeah." As they were walking more, Devon came out of nowhere, throwing a football at Chuck. " Woo! Go Bruins, huh?" he then lifted Ellie over his shoulder, spinning her around. You laughed watching the two. " Devon, put me down. Put me down. Stop it. Ha-ha-ha." " You ladies ready to rock? " Devon asked the rest of you after putting Ellie down. "Yeah, when you put it that way, maybe not." Chuck said. Then Devon ran away, not before patting him hard.  "Okay. Nice barbecue." " Woo!" Someone yelled running by you. ""Woo" you." Chuck said. You laughed and linked your arm with his. "Uh, you wanna meet us at the stadium? I think we're gonna hang out here until the game starts." Ellie said laughing. " Yeah. I'm gonna take Y/N a little trip down memory lane for the times she visited me here and for Sarah , the Chuck Bartowski memorial tour since she's never been here. So call me if any rabid Stanford fans decide to put Awesome in the hospital. " Chuck said jokingly. "Ha. See you." And Ellie was off.

You , Chuck and Sarah were still standing around when you saw Casey coming over to you guys.

"Nice job blending in with the crowd." you said looking at him since he was dressed all in black. "Who you rooting for, death?" Chuck asked. " Ehh. Leave the quips to me." "The library's this way, across the quad." Chuck said pointing straight ahead.

You and Chuck still had your arms linked as Sarah walked beside you and Casey was beside Chuck.  As you were walking around the yard though Chuck slowed down and stopped. You looked over at him concerned. "Chuck? What is it?" you asked. " I don't know, I figured this'd be tough, but this place... is just a lot to take in, you know. I used to have so much fun here, and then..." "And then?" Sarah asked turning to look at Chuck. "It was the worst day of my life, getting kicked out of here. Having to hear Ellie's voice when I told her I was coming home. Having to call Y/N to tell her the news. Packing up all my stuff and leaving as Bryce just stood there. He said I brought it on myself." You squeezed his arm as you leaned in more now, giving him a side hug, which Chuck gladly accepted, wrapping his arm around you. "Why do you think that Bryce betrayed you?" Sarah then asked. " I don't know. He's had four years to call and set the record straight. And now that he's gone... You know what? Forget it. Bryce has betrayed a lot of people, hasn't he? Come on Y/N." Chuck said keeping his arm around you as you walked away. Sarah and Casey following closely behind. " Mm. Roger that." Casey agreeing to what Chuck said.

"We have to play this really cool. Magnus has the book number. He could have beat us here." Casey informed you all as you approached the library. "Think he's in there?" you asked. " Maybe you two should stay here." Sarah said turning to look at you and Chuck. " Yeah, that always works out well. You can't find the book without me. Y/N and I are going in." Chuck said as you all walked in. As you got in though Chuck forgot that you needed your student ID to get in. "Oh, no, no, no." Chuck said, starting to panic. "Looking for this?" Casey said holding up Chuck's card. "You stole my ID?" " I borrowed it to reactivate it. Sorry, I couldn't wipe the idiot grin off your face in Photoshop." "Well I think it's cute." you said. "Thank you Y/NN." Casey then handed you and Sarah an ID and had one for himself and you all began to swipe your cards to get in.

You were all following Chuck around the library, hoping he'll be able to remember the spot. "There. There, that row." Chuck said finally remembering. When you got there though you noticed the book was gone. "Oh, no." " We're too late, Magnus beat us here. He's got the book." Casey said. "Great." you said shaking you head. " Hold on." Chuck said examining the spot. He started to feel underneath the above shelf when a slot opened and he removed a disk. "Gotcha." Chuck said showing you all the disk. "The intel." "The book number was just a way to mark the spot." you said. " Let's get out here before Magnus realizes that book he has is worthless." Sarah pointed out and you all nodded. "Hey, you, don't move." A man shouted approaching you all. Casey put his arm out stopping the man from getting any closer." Charles Bartowski? You still owe the library $294. 68 in late fees." "Oh damn." you said looking over at Chuck. " Do you take credit cards?" " You think this is funny?" You then all began to notice some men sneaking around with guns. "Chuck, Y/N, run." Sarah urged. You and Chuck looked at each other then bolted as Sarah and Casey ran towards the men. " Head for the back door, guys!" Sarah yelled.

You and Chuck ran out of library when you noticed a man running after the both of you and you ran faster. You were able to knock down a table making the man trip over it and fall. As you ran Chuck noticed Ellie and Devon standing around and he didn’t want them to notice the both of you. He stopped you and pointed over at them then pointed at the table and you both crawled underneath it. When you got out from under the table, someone grabbed Chuck, pulling him up. "No! Chuck!" you yelled, quickly getting to your feet. "There you are." You and Chuck quickly relaxed when you realized it was just Casey. " Hey, you, freeze!" a man yelled running to you guys so Casey elbow punched the man, knocking him right out. Sarah quickly caught up also. " All right, they spotted us. Okay, we have to go." Sarah said as more men came walking up to you all. "I swear this school has it in for me." " Come on." Sarah said grabbing your hand as you all began to run.

You all ran into a building and found yourselves at the doors of a lecture room. You all peaked your heads inside to make sure no one was around. "We're safe for now." Sarah said as you all entered the room. " I need to see what's on this disc." Chuck said walking up to the computer. "Hey, Chuck. That's top secret." Sarah said trying to stop him. "Yeah, well, so am I. There could be answers on this disk about why I'm in the Intersect." "I still wish I could know with UCLA. It's been bothering me." you said looking at Chuck and Sarah. "I know Y/N and I'm sorry." Chuck said. "It's not your fault. Now let's see this." Chuck popped it in quickly as you all gathered around the computer. " That's testing data. " "And videotaped interviews. These are students." Chuck said. " Exactly. Students that were recruited into the CIA by Fleming. Ten years worth. It's all their current information. " Sarah said. "No wonder Magnus wanted it so badly. Foreign governments would pay for that." Casey added. "Look at that! " Chuck said pointing at the screen. "Bryce Larkin. Bryce joined the CIA our junior year?" Chuck said shocked. "That's enough. Now we know what he's after." Casey said wanting to leave. "No, wait, that's me! I'm in here too." Chuck said pointing at his name now. "Click it." you and Casey said. "Don't click it." Sarah argued. " I never applied to be in the CIA." All of a sudden the men came barging in, shooting. "Chuck, Y/N get down!" Sarah shouted as you and Chuck ducked.   There were more and more of them coming in and shooting. You and Chuck stayed close, continuing to duck, trying not to get shot. "You think this would be a good time for us to be waiting in the car?" Chuck said looking over at you and you nodded your head quickly as the shooting continued.

[whirlybirbs]

me, reading miss turner fuck those people up: hell yeah, hell yeah, hELL YEAH

NIGHT RIDERS   //   ii.

summary: following this fic, you’re brought back to camp and cleaned up. in the wake of the destruction, you bathe and arthur makes some promises. rating: t, mention of violencepairing: arthur morgan x reader, turner as a surnamea/n: from my simpler said aloud series! yay! angsty-fluff!

“Yer gonna be alright.”

Promises.

It’s those words and the weathered, scared hands that coax you down from the dissociated disconnect. 

Arthur Morgan isn’t a gentle man by nature -- but, he can be. He’s re-learning, again after years of being on his own, how to love and to cherish and to have and to hold. With you, it’s easy.

He loves you.

(You are different from Mary. You don’t complain when he’s a little too rough with his hands, when he’s dirty from a job and he kisses you with mud along his cheeks. You don’t place his masculinity upon a pedestal to marvel at from afar. You take him as he is, as he always will be: rugged and rough and wanted by the law and the land.)

He holds you like you’re made of porcelain in this moment, fingers winding into your waist as he helps you down from his horse. Your knees shake when you meet the ground.

You’re... in a bad way. You’re rooted in your head and not so much the reality of the somber stillness that your appearance inflicts on the camp. Your lace chemise clings to you with the blood of someone else, nose split and right eye ringed with a gnarly purple bruise. The remnants of self-defense paint your face like macabre war paint. There’s blood stains up your wrists and spray patterns in your hair. Tangled tendrils hang, obscuring the raw burns from the rope that had been tied around your throat. 

Susan Grimshaw, mother hen, flocks to your side in an instant. She can see the palpable worry written all over Arthur’s face -- this is her job, it’s her job to keep the girls safe.

Her voice lacks it’s usual sternness. 

“Mary-Beth, Tilly,” she asks, “Why don’t you start a bath, please? Karen, help me get Miss Turner to her tent.”

A bath sounds nice.

The hot water washes away a multitude of the brutality and you sit in the metal basin, scrubbing at the lifelines in your palms. They’re stained with sin.

Mary-Beth works soap through your hair and Karen sings, softly, as she works your chemise in the laundry by your tent. Outside, you can see the shapes of figures against the canvas. One is Arthur, you know, by the tall and broad stance -- Hosea’s voice is heavy with concern and Dutch’s with anger. Charles lingers beside his best friend, hand on Arthur’s shoulder.

Tilly says your name softly.

“You did th’ right thing, you know,” she says, “It ain’t easy, but stomachin’ it gets easier... You came back an’ you survived. That’s what matters.”

Tilly’s words have a hollowness to them.

You’re struck with the sound of that ax driving through a skull.

Hollow. 

You’re quiet for a long while, fingers dipping in and out of the water as Mary-Beth winds intricate braids in your wet hair. It’s a welcomed distraction; the sounds of voices continue as the water gets colder and finally you decide that you’re clean enough.

This feeling isn’t one you can wash away.

The flaps of your tent move.

It’s Arthur.

He’s wringing his hat, eyes pulled into a worried expression that has the girls rising and moving to give you both a moment alone. They’re nothing but a flurry of skirts in the wind, gone without a word.

The outlaw in the door-way, tall and broad and towering over you in the bath, clears his throat.

You look like a nymph -- some pretty picturesque woman in a bath of opalescence. A braided crown sits high on your head and you pull your knees closer to your chest. The bath ripples around you and there’s shame in the way you sink into the water. The bruise around your eyes is ghastly.

It makes Arthur’s heart hurt.

“Wanted t’ check up on y’,” he says shakily, “Y’ had me worried sick.”

You nod, eyes hitting your knees as you fiddling with the water.

He moves to sit on the stool Mary-Beth had been settled on previously. 

You exhale. 

He drops his hat to your bedside table, leaning forward on his knees. You move in the water, turning to look up at him. 

A warm hand slips along the curve of your jaw. His thumb grazes the bruising along the orbital socket there, all purple and yellow and sore.

It’s grounding.

“M’ sorry.”

“Why?”

“I shouldn’t a’ let it happen,” he says, “I should be keepin’ y’ safe.”

“That ain’t yer job.”

You turn, raising two cold hands to cup his own. You turn, dotting a kiss to his palm. You eyes never leave his and Arthur has to swallow down the burn it creates in the pit of his heart. Silence fleets between you both. When you finally speak, your words are shameful and quiet. 

“I killed two men, Arthur,” you whisper, “I... I drove an ax -- I did a bad thing.”

Arthur knows the feeling. The first time is always the worst. It doesn’t get better -- but it’s easier to ignore. He remembers the first time he gunned a man down outside a saloon. It’s a horrible winding stab that sits like lead in your gut for weeks. 

But there’s something else in your eyes. A fire.

“Y’ did what y’ had to,” he says, brushing fingers to your temple, “Y’ got away.”

“He was th’ one who shot you.”

Blue eyes roam your face with a sense of surprise. 

“Revenge is a fool’s game, sweetheart,” he warns, shaking his head, “It’s bad business --”

“Don’t care,” you say, “I’d do it again. I’d do it a thousand times over. He belongs in the ground, Arthur, he ain’t nothin’ but dead now. I don’t regret what I did.”

Arthur wonders if in any other life he’d be as touched as he is now. If, in a life where he was good and honest and law-abiding, the idea of murder as a gesture of love would be as wooing as it is in this moment. The outlaw can’t help but gawk for a moment as you take his hands again. 

He leans, lips finding the corner of your mouth.

He lingers.

You sigh.

“Y’ scared me half t’ death, y’know.”

“M’sorry.”

Another kiss. 

“I can’t lose you.”

It’s said like a prayer, followed by a kiss that’s gentle, achingly so. With each peck you can feel yourself being reeled back into reality and away from the pummeling beat of the night’s events. With him winding his hands in your hair and nosing at your cheek, you can forget about it all in favor for sweetness and kindness and him, so solidly real and solidly yours. 

“You won’t.”

“You promise that?”

He’s unabashed in his surrendering -- Arthur bears his soul in his words.

You nod, pulling from his lips. “I promise.”

He likes the idea of you and him making promises. It seems... natural. Like for once, he isn’t so sad and so lonely and so old -- there’s someone by his side, someone to appreciate and to support. Arthur finds himself, as he helps you from the bath and into a clean and dry chemise, wondering if you’d ever agree to a bigger promise.

You’d look lovely in white.

He winds himself into you like a vine seeking the sun as you make a disgusted face at the bruises and rope burn along your face and neck. He drops a kiss to the juncture of your neck and you squirm.

“Yer beautiful,” Arthur rumbles, “No matter what.”

Through exhaustion and the warm steep in your bones, you finally smile.

“I’m gonna put a bullet between Waylon Robbins eyes,” Arthur says at the sight of it. The fact it had almost been stolen from him is gut-wrenching. It pricks his face with anger. 

“An’ I’ll be by your side when y’ do.”

Promises. 

Promises, promises, promises.

[knives-out20]

Magnetic Pull - Erik Lehnsherr x Male!OC - Part 17

Fandom: X-Men: First Class (2011)

Pairing: Karmel Rosenstein (OC) x Erik Lehnsherr

Warnings: Spoilers for X-Men: First Class, Swearing, Repressed homosexuality, 

Notes: We’re so close to the end, I can’t wait!

With Hank piloting, Moira and the team took the jet to the ocean's blockade line. They soared down to where all the military ships are, catching the eyes of many of the soldiers.

Karmel was buckled in right beside Erik.

"It looks pretty messy out there" Hank called.

Karmel and Erik locked eyes, slightly stressed out as Charles pressed two fingers to his temple. 

"The crew of the aral sea are all dead. Shaw's been there" Charles spoke, Erik tensing at the mere mention of him.

"He's still here, somewhere" Erik urged.

"He set the ship on course for the embargo line."

"If that ship crosses the line, our boys are going to blow it up" Moira clarified."And the war begins."

"Unless they're not our boys" Charles suggested, earning confused glances from all around. He closed his eyes, pressing two fingers to his temple again. 

Karmel took the opportunity to face Erik."Hey, uh- Erik" he called, earning Erik's attention quickly.

"Yea?"

Karmel pursed his lips."Does your...neck still hurt?" He asked, still concerned over the topic. Karmel had been wavering over it since they left."Can you still breathe properly?"

Erik let the ghost of a smile haunt his lips quickly."I'm fine now, thanks" he nodded."I'm lightning in a bottle, remember? A choke-hold can't do that much damage on me."

Karmel smiled at how Erik remembered his compliment. He pat Erik's knee in pride (like Erik did to him in that trunk in Russia) before looking away. The smile was wiped off his face when Hank turned the jet upside down, Charles yelling "hold on!"

Erik, as if automatic, outstretched an arm over Karmel, who did the same to him rather than use his vines like the trunk in Russia. Yea, he knew Karmel was mainly trying to shield him in that trunk, but he never commented on it.

"A little warning next time, Professor?" Hank rhetorically asked when the jet turned right-side-up again.

Charles glanced at him, then over at Erik and Karmel."Sorry about that. You alright?"

"Yea" Sean choked.

Karmel and Erik slowly pulled their arms away, the ghosts of their arms on each other lingering. They smiled awkwardly at one another.

"That was inspired, Charles" Moira teased.

"Thank you very much, but I still can't locate Shaw" Charles noted, Erik quick to pipe up.

"He's down there, we need to find him now."

"Hank?"

"Is there anything unusual on the radar or scanners?" Hank asked Moira.

Moira shook her head, "no, nothing."

"Well, then, he must be underwater. And obviously, we don't have sonar."

Erik sighed silently, discouraged.

Which, Karmel was far from liking."Hey, Erik, look at me" he whispered, earning the man's desperate attention. Karmel ignored the faint blush he gained from locking eyes with Erik."We'll find Shaw, alright? We'll take his ass down, the shitstain won't know what hit him. Trust me, okay? We'll get him."

Erik glanced down at Karmel's lips, nodding at what he said.

"And we'll kill him."

Erik picked up on Karmel's whisper, his eyes lighting up."Weren't you on the border about this last night?" He breathed.

Karmel flashed him a smile, turning away to see Charles grinning at him."Fuck off" he mouthed, Charles holding back a giggle. It was clear to Karmel that Charles hadn't picked up on his whisper on killing Shaw, but Karmel couldn't even grasp the fact that he said it. Was he really up for killing Shaw...?

And then Karmel caught the smile on Erik’s face.

Yes. Yes he was.

Charles got distracted by Sean, who said "yes we do" in determination."Yes we do, yes we do" he echoed when it clicked, ripping off his headset, Sean, Erik and Karmel following his actions."Hank! Level the bloody plane!" Charles yelled as Sean and him made their way across it.

Hank grinned, obediently leveling the plan normally again.

Karmel and Erik walked over to where Charles and Sean stood, Sean outstretching an arm to stop them.

"Woah! You back right off!" Sean warned, standing at the bomb bay with Charles.

Erik tilted his head and smiled playfully, putting his hands up in surrender.

Karmel's eyebrows knitted together in confusion."Yo, what the fuck did Erik do, huh? Hank chokes him out once- for no reason- and suddenly this guy's unworthy to be in the same vicinity as you? Huh, you little sh-"

Erik cut him off, putting a hand on his shoulder."Karmel, Karmel" he calmly called.

"What?"

"I pushed him off of a fucking satellite dish."

Karmel blinked slowly, Erik's eyes searching his own."Well, yea, but that was like one time, and it was funny, and- and it worked out, didn't it? Charles was thinking the same thing, you said so, this ungrateful lil' kid is just-"

"Karmel," Erik softly repeated, both his hands on Karmel's shoulders."I pushed the boy off of a satellite dish."

Karmel's lip twitched in annoyance, as he crossed his arms and shot Sean a glare."Mmh, still" he mumbled, calming down at Erik's touch and soft tone.

"I know" Erik chuckled, pulling the two of them away from Charles and Sean.

"Beast, open the bomb bay doors!" Sean called.

Karmel stepped back when the floor between Erik and him, and Charles and Sean opened up, pulling Erik with him.

Erik smiled at him."Don't worry, I'll be careful" he whispered, patting Karmel's hand.

Karmel grit his teeth, nodding silently as he kept his eyes on the water racing under them. 

"Remember! This is a muscle!" Charles yelled at Sean, patting the boy's throat."You control it! You'll be in here the entire time!" He tapped his temple."We'll see you soon! On my mark! Three! Two! One! Go!" Charles screamed, Sean letting out a loud 'woo!' Of his own when Charles pushed him out of the jet.

Sean spread his arms, screaming at the water to keep him up.

"Alert the fleet, they may want to take their cans off" Moira spoke to Sean through a walkie-talkie.

"Banshee has got a location on Shaw" Charles nodded at Erik and Karmel, Erik nodding back.

Erik pulled Karmel closer to his side, Charles' gaze darting between the two of them.

"Are you ready for this? Both of you?"

Erik looked to Karmel, nodding at him to see if he was ready."You ready, friend?"

Karmel nodded back in signal, ignoring the sting of pain he received from Erik calling him 'friend'."Let's find out, friend."

Hank turned the jet around, diving back over to the ships. 

The bomb bay slowly reopened for Charles, Erik, and Karmel,  a small pair of wheels coming down for them to hang onto. 

Erik knelt on one side of the wheel's axle, Karmel on the other, wind flapping through their hair as they overlooked the ocean.

"Cheesy as is, the ocean kinda reminds me of your eyes" Karmel teased, heart racing as he said it.

Erik spared him a look, grinning again since Karmel was looking away to hide his blush."Funny, I was going to say the same thing about you."

Karmel cackled, turning back over to him."You old dog!" He replied, watching Erik reach out his hand, as if searching under the water. Karmel watched as Erik's hand froze in one spot, and started to shake violently."Charlie Chaplin, earth to Charlie, I think Erik found shitty Mr. Shaw" he called, Erik grunting softly over him. Karmel looked at Erik holding onto the axle of the wheel, and moved his own hand up so that it was over Erik's own."You got this!"

Charles watched, putting two fingers to his forehead."Remember: the point between rage and serenity." he spoke into Erik's mind, instantly calming him down."When Erik pulls the craft out of the water, I need you to use your vines and fish it out, Karmel!"

Karmel nodded in response."My uncle used to take me fishing all the time, Charles, I got this!" He yelled back, as a white submarine slowly grew closer and closer to the surface. Once it even got close to coming to the air, Karmel had his vines loop out from behind his back and wrap around the white ride like a bunch of lassos. He grunted, aiding Erik in pulling it out of the water."We got it, boss, what now? It's like lifting weights- keep going, Erik!" Karmel yelled, as the sub floated right by time at this point."God, Erik's strong as shit." Karmel thought, momentarily forgetting that they had Navy military eyes on them.

The jet sped up, flying by the submarine and headed over to the island in the near distance; Erik and Karmel kept their hold, pulling it along with them.

"This is like fucking tug-of-war, what the hell-" Karmel swore.

"Don't drop it now, Karmel!" Erik yelled over."We got this!"

Karmel breathed shakily."We got this" he repeated. Karmel watched as a man stepped out from inside the sub they had a hold on, and watched him lock eyes with Erik."Shit."

The man huffed, reaching his arms out and spinning like a dreidel. He got surrounded by a mini tornado, which came flying their way.

"Karmel!" Erik yelled.

"Erik!" Karmel screamed back, making sure he had Erik's hand still under his own.

"Both of you, take my hands!" Charles called from above, reaching out both of his hands from a safe distance inside the jet.

Once encased by the tornado, Karmel pulled Erik closer to the axle; closer to him. One hand controlled the vines holding the submarine, the other now wrapped around Erik in a protective half-hug that made his heartbeat race like Sean through the wind. Karmel narrowed his eyes due to the gusts of wind, Erik and him dropping their powers in unison. He let his vines wind back into him, Erik letting off his magnetic pull when the sub crash-landed on the island. 

Erik grunted again, his arm looping around Karmel and pulling the vine-mutant closer to himself."You alright?" He called.

"Only if you are!" Karmel called back.

"Erik, Karmel, take my hands!" Charles repeated his wish, one engine snapping off of the jet.

Erik reached for Charles hand, his other now holding onto Karmel's."Can you pull us both inside?" He asked.

"He better, bitch!" Karmel yelled, both hands clasped onto the one Erik offered, their feet dangling in thin air.

Charles heaved back, safely pulling Erik and Karmel back into the jet.

Karmel panted desperately, both hands still holding onto Erik's as they lay back."Fucking-" he swore, free hand over his chest. Karmel's curse was shortened due to the fact that they crash-landed onto the island as well, throwing him onto his stomach.

Erik dove over Karmel, both hands flat on the floor to protect him as they all screamed in fear.

[samanthajameswriter]

Today’s post will be the tale of a royal exit written by guest poster Simone T. Whitlow from the blog History and Imagination. Whitlow discusses and tells the life story of Princess Sophia Dorothea and her exiting the royal family. The consequences were enormous. it is a story filled with an unhappy marriage and daring escapes.

I have taken a few shots at writing it under the auspices of a whodunit, but I don’t think there’s any doubt who the murderers are. I then had another run – this time as a faux fairytale, an OG soap opera? I had a line from John Wilmott, Earl of Rochester kicking round in my head about his patron Charles II, and thought what about riffing off that; this is an example of what a crazy, swinging place Europe’s courts were in the late 17th Century after all… but I abandoned all of these.

Then Megxit happened; The Sussexes – Harry and Meghan – announced they were leaving ‘the firm’. In some quarters there was shock, and I understand there was an urgent family meeting. Harry didn’t get thrown into a cell in the Tower of London. There was no clandestine dash for the English channel (like the aforementioned Charles II after his defeat at the Battle of Worcester in 1651). No disguising himself as a servant. No hiding in oak trees. Public discourse re-centred on whether you wished them well, or thought them a pair of spoilt brats. This brought me back round to this tale again… Imagine you’re a deeply unhappy royal, but it is 1694. Does Sophxit play out any differently?

This tale begins on the evening of July 1st, 1694. The setting, Hanover – a Germanic Duchy which would eventually be subsumed into a larger German nation, and whose first family would go on to be kind of a big deal.  A young man, aided only by moonlight, sails along the Leine river till he reaches the Leineschloss – the palatial riverside home of the duke and his family. He moors his boat, then cautiously enters the property. The man is Phillipp Christoph, Count Konigsmarck – an aristocratic German born Swede from a long line of mercenaries. His father had served King Gustav II Adolph in the 30 Years War, rising through the ranks to Field Marshall. Phillipp himself had fought the Turks for Holy Roman Emperor Leopold I. At this point in the tale however, he was under the employ of the Elector of Saxony. Tonight he’s been summoned to met his paramour – Sophia Dorothea, princess of Celle – the very unhappy wife of Duke George Ludwig.

Count Konigsmarck

Princess Sophia Dorothea

Duke Georg Ludwig

Sophia, though surprised- she never summoned him – is ecstatic over his arrival. They haven’t seen each other for weeks. She is also a little perturbed and angered at ‘that woman’s’ gall. “Well, clearly she’s still spying on us” I imagine one saying “Never mind, in a day we’ll be out of this nightmare” the other may have replied. With rather less poetic license you can imagine the rest of their night – Konigsmarck had not come to play solitaire after all, nor Sophia to play old maid. I like to imagine Sophia enfolding the count in her arms as he left and whispering “keep safe, hell hath no fury and all” but that is a little anachronistic – Congreve would not publish ‘The Mourning Bride’ till 1697. This is the last time Sophia Dorothea would see Count Konigsmarck – in the following hours he would disappear from the face of the Earth, never to be seen again.

Joining ‘The Firm’.

To explain how Sophia Dorothea found herself in an unhappy marriage, I need to take us back a generation. The first fact worth knowing is there was no German nation in the modern sense until January 1871. People could be ethnically Germanic, but Germany was a collection of feudal states for most of it’s history. Until 1806, they were also overseen by a ‘Holy Roman Emperor’. From 1346 the Emperor was elected by a council from the Elector states – This is important to know later. The second fact is marriages of convenience were very much a thing in the 17th Century, particularly among the aristocrats. Third, this tale concerns two duchies, Brunswick- Celle and Brunswick- Luneberg, afterwards known simply as ‘Hanover’. These duchies were ruled over by two brothers. Fourth their leading citizens of the duchies wanted to see the two areas reunited one day. Now that is out of the way…

Sophia Dorothea’s father was a man named Duke Georg Wilhelm of Brunswick- Celle. Georg W had been engaged to a princess from the neighboring duchy of Rhineland Palatinate (her name was also Sophia, though she hardly gets a mention beyond this point), but he was desperate to stay a bachelor a little longer. He cancelled the engagement – passing her on to his brother, Ernst August, Duke of Brunswick Luneberg. The leading figures of Georg W’s duchy were furious, but when Georg signed a legal agreement stating he would never marry – and would pass his duchy to Ernst, (merging the duchies) on his death, all was forgiven. Georg was not exactly out of the firm, but was free to enjoy his newly acquired freedom. The problem was Cupid laid Georg W low after he crossed paths with the beautiful Frenchwoman Eleonore d’Olbreuse.

Georg immediately knew they must marry and start a family. His own duchy and brother Ernst were unimpressed, so Georg W approached Leopold I, Holy Roman Emperor for permission to marry Eleonore. Leopold gave his blessing, but many years after the fact– at this stage Georg and Eleonore had a child, Sophia Dorothea, now 10 years old. There was a caveat to Leopold’s blessing – Georg W had a daughter, Ernst a son (Georg L) – the two cousins would marry, uniting the duchies. This suited all, but the two cousins themselves, who detested each other.

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Georg Wilhelm

Eleonore d’Olbreuse.

Ernst August

Sophia Of Hanover

Complicating matters further, both Georg L and his father Ernst were openly having affairs outside of their marriages. Given what transpires it is worth mentioning Georg L’s double standards with affairs. The key fact to take on however is Ernst, Sophia’s uncle-stepdad, was involved with a lady named Countess Platen.

The Konigsmarck brothers.

We’ll come back to this lot in a second, but first let’s discuss Count Konigsmarck. He has quite a fraught backstory too. Konigsmarck was brought up at court, and knew the rest of this cast well. Both he and his brother, Karl, were sent to England in their mid teens, around 1680. They were sent off to learn courtly skills and mingle, but both brothers soon got into trouble. Phillipp’s trouble involved losing huge sums of money through gambling. Karl’s trouble was on a whole other level.

The two brothers began associating with several high society Britons- including Charles II. Karl had become smitten with Elizabeth Seymour, Duchess of Somerset. Elizabeth was – you guessed it – caught in a loveless, arranged marriage to a wealthy, cheating husband – the wealthy landowner and MP Thomas Thynne. On 12th February 1682, Thynne was travelling in a carriage through Pall Mall, when three men with pistols – Christopher Vratz, John Stern and George Borosky gunned him down. The three men were captured, and named Karl Konigsmarck as the man who hired them to make the hit. The assassins would hang, Karl walked free – but both young men were outcasts in England from this point on. Both returned to Europe and joined Leopold’s army. Karl would be killed in action fighting the Turks in Greece in 1686. As an aside, not long after Thomas Thynne’s murder, a poem circulated through London.

“Here lies Tom Thynne of Longleat Hall Who ne’er would have miscarried; Had he married the woman he slept withal Or slept with the woman he married.”

Let the Dangerous Liaisons begin.

In 1688, after eight years service in the wars with the Turks, Phillipp Konigsmarck returned to the court of what was then Hanover. The ladies of the court fell for this dashing, young soldier. He became a close friend and confidant of Sophia Dorothea – a sympathetic ear who would keep tales of Sophia’s horrible husband, hideous uncle/stepdad, and terrifying mistress of uncle/stepdad – Countess Platen, confidential. Konigsmarck also began an ill advised affair with Countess Platen himself.

The young count soon realized; one, he had fallen in love with princess Sophia – and two, Countess Platen is a dangerous lunatic he should have never become involved with. He took on a new military commission and left Hanover, hoping the countess would forget about him.

On his return to the court in the spring of 1690 he began wooing the princess. The countess, meanwhile resumed her wooing of the count. When left unrequited she hired spies to follow the couple, and intercept their letters. By 1693 Countess Platen stopped even attempting to repair the broken seals on the couple’s love letters. Phillipp resumed his affair with the countess, hoping to placate her; at the very least to stop her from spilling the beans on them. Phillipp and Sophia make the decision to run away together; to start a new life elsewhere- far away from courtly life. This presented a problem for the two. Phillipp was lousy with money, and currently broke – he had not been working, while wooing two ladies. Sophia, upon marrying Georg L, ceded all her possessions to her husband.

Phillipp took a commission with the elector of Saxony, in Dresden in May 1694. Sophia sat tight and waited for Phillipp to make some money. 1st July, at the urging of a counterfeit letter, Phillipp returned to Hanover. Possibly aware it was a trap, Phillipp had saved a month’s worth of wages. Most of the court were away at their summer house at the time – Georg. L included. Tomorrow morning they would run away – and begin a new, happier life together. The following day Count Konigsmarck was nowhere to be found. A distraught Sophia Dorothea eventually hears the scuttlebutt from the markets “the witches of Dresden…” lured Phillipp away.

So…. what happened?

Let’s work through the facts – and suppositions – of the case. There are at least five possibilities. It’s generally accepted the counterfeit letter came from the countess. She had spies watching the couple, who reported to her that the couple were planning to abscond the following day. It is established fact also that Countess Platen informed her other lover, the uncle/stepdad Ernst, of the two lovers’ plan. Ernst ordered four cavaliers to arrest Count Konigsmarck immediately. The four men caught him outside the palace, swords were drawn. When the men eventually faced trial they claimed the count had drawn his sword, a fight broke out, and the count got stabbed to death in the melee.

What happened to the body? Who the hell knows? That is the real mystery. The four suspects were never on record on this matter. One theory has his body thrown into the Leine river, or immolated, or buried on the property. There was excitement in 2016 when bones were dug up on the site, but DNA proved the bones belonged to five separate men (none Phillipp) and a selection of animals.

Possibility one is simple as this, manslaughter. Count Konigsmarck, the battle hardened soldier of fortune thought he could fight his way out of an awkward situation and the four men got the better of him. It was, at most, a case of manslaughter.

Two, when Ernst August sent the cavaliers out to stop Konigsmarck, did he give the order to murder him before the elopement uncovered his dalliances, causing him embarrassment? He may have wanted him out of the way for this reason. Besides personal embarrassment, Hanover had only just been appointed an elector state, who help choose the Holy Roman Emperor. A scandal involving their royals may have jeopardized that position.

Three, well that ‘hell hath no fury’ motive is also out there. Countess Platen was jealous, and involved in high level stalking behaviour. She had laid this trap for the couple, does it not make sense to go that one step further. Did she kill Count Konigsmarck, solipsisticly to say ‘if I can’t have him, no-one can’?

Four, did Georg Ludwig know of the affair, and order the assassination? An elopement certainly would have left him a cuckold. Working counter to this, Georg L seemed unaware of the affair till after the affair was exposed. As soon as he heard, he divorced Sophia Dorothea. He exiled her to house arrest in Ahlden Castle, another family possession. She was kept prisoner until her death 32 years later. Here’s my reason to doubt Georg as the mastermind – he divorced and imprisoned her six months after Count Konigsmarck disappeared. Perhaps Georg was an endlessly patient man? I doubt it.

Now, I want to put a fifth suspect on the table – I said I would not mention her again – but I need to in order to tie this to the Sussexes at the very least. Ernst August’s wife, Sophia the elder, scorned by Georg W, and in what one would imagine as unhappy a marriage as anyone else in this tale – Her husband was cheating on her with Countess Platen after all – well she had a dream.

Discontent with her lot in life, married to a petty duke of a tiny duchy, she daydreamed of a time when herself, or her son would run the larger archipelago to the north-west. This did not seem such a crazy daydream. Her grandfather had been James I of England. In 1685 Charles II died leaving 14 illegitimate children, but no heirs. The crown passed to his brother James II, who was deposed in the ‘Glorious Rebellion’ of 1688. This saw a joint rule by James II’s daughter Mary, and the Dutch Import William of Orange. The line of succession had gotten a little complicated of late, and Sophia the elder’s daydream was seeming less and less blue sky thinking, more a genuine possibility – just so long as a giant scandal didn’t break out about her cheating husband, cheating daughter in law, and surrounding rogues gallery. I can’t count her in, but I certainly can’t ignore she too has a motive.

By 1702 both Mary and William of Orange had died. The crown passed to Mary’s sister – Anne. Anne fell pregnant 18 times – and suffered six miscarriages, five stillbirths, and none of her remaining children lived beyond two years of age. When Anne died on August 1st 1714, the crown passed to one Georg Ludwig, of an obscure German duchy, henceforth known as George I of England, whose family sit on the throne of England to this day.

How do I feel about the Sussexes and Megxit? Well, I am glad for the couple that it is 2020, not 1694 – and I wish them well.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Simone T. Whitlow is a musician, history blogger, and occasionally a squeaky wheel, working for well oiled corporate machines. Simone is based in Auckland, New Zealand and writes most weeks for Tales of History and Imagination.Tales of History and Imagination is a collection of strange and eccentric stories from our collective past. From Victorian Boogeymen to forgotten wars in far flung nations, mysterious super-weapons to people who simply took a path less traveled – Tales of History and Imagination is a compendium of the stories never told in history class.

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  The Deadly Sophxit of Count Konigsmarck and Princess Sophia Dorothea Today's post will be the tale of a royal exit written by guest poster Simone T. Whitlow from the blog…

[lady-plantagenet]

Chapter 3 of a Bygone Era -

A Fictionalised Account of Isabel Neville’s life from the point of view of her and those close to her.

Points of view written so far include Anne Beauchamp, Anne Neville and George Duke of Clarence.

26 June 1465 - George Plantagenet, Duke of Clarence

The ride beyond the Yorkshire Dales was more than any reasonable man could endure and George’s spirit waned with each passing of the moon. Now arrived, he was glad to be relieved of his riding habit. The summer sun looked upon him, setting his glossy green silk aglow, elevating the golden weaved threads to a glimmer and his persona to a countenance so divine, Paris himself would have payed homage had they encountered.

Now, his cousin of Warwick requested his presence for a private audience before the dinner and George despite his wishes could not feign ignorance to himself. After all the noble blood of the land has been mingled with the Rivers, he intends to woo me himself, for Isabel. He set his cup of Rumney wine on the painted table of his chamber wondering what possessed Warwick to have his wines brought from Wallachia of all places. Mayhaps he has even befriended the Impaler himself. There is not a road in christendom left unexplored by the shadows of his ambitions.

Realising it was nigh time he appeared for the audience, he made his way past the stony winding stairs of what was unofficially called the Guy de Warwick tower and across the gleaming inner court, beset with a sea of jade shards bobbing to the wind in a biddable manner, until he reached the threshold of The Maiden tower. A wry chuckle escaped George. The choice of meeting amused him nearly as much as his lodging arrangements. The thematic allusions to the ancient Neville tale of Guy of Warwick and The elusive and noble Lady Felice did not elude him. While awaiting his receipt, he wondered whether ballads still held court in Isabel’s heart.

A servant he did not recognise before beckoned him into a suffocating chamber of cream and steel where George to his surprise was faced with the Countess of Warwick sitting beside her husband, as if they were a king and queen holding court. So this is how royalty ought to look. George thought back to his brother’s court and how the new queen’s striking beauty and liveliness did not sit well with the austere and mystical nature expected of one who claimed the sacred place next to an anointed king. The Countess, however, appeared as if a part of the room as a whole, as would the queen of heaven in a nativity tableaux.

As he knelt for each of their blessings reminiscent of a bygone era of peace and childhood, he rose with a solemn smile. To his discomfort the Earl and Countess did not avail the room of its stilted atmosphere with their faces remaining taut like sheets of ice.

‘George we are honoured to be having you here again and with us for near a fortnight, truly much time has passed since you were under our guardianship and a mere lad in the courtyard sparring with play swords’ said the Earl neutrally ‘however the time has come for me to address an issue that we had near no time to discuss while at court.’

What in the heavens could he be referencing? I do not remember exchanging anything but pleasantries with him. Best keep my mouth shut and refrain from guessing or else I may be held to have had expressed my willingness to carry out something I would ne’er do.

The Earl was waiting expectantly. George could not help himself and blurted: ‘My sister Margaret is arranging a marriage between myself and Mary of Burgundy, which she hopes will result in a double alliance between our realms when her own betrothal to Charles I is underway’. Just to think! Margaret and I living in the most marvellous court in Europe and when the Duke’s recklessness resolves in death, her and I can rule the Low Countries like two kings. ‘ And so, before you ask me to wed Isabel, I tell you that I cannot regardless of what you may think you have heard me say at court.’

The Earl let out a full-throated laugh so strong that his whole body appeared to be shaking. Even the Countess stifled a chuckle behind her long ringed fingers. Half a minute went by and the Earl’s head was snapped back in roaring laughter revealing the roof of his mouth, which in this moment was opened so wide it resembled a scarlet cave.

George could not understand what was so funny.

‘George, I am not your doting nursemaid concerned with your heart or an up-jumped merchant who is trying to seduce you with sweetmeats to cajole you into a coupling with my daughter, by entrapping you into my home.’ The Earl began. Laughter still seemed to coat his voice like sugary water hiding overlying vinegar. The incredulous tone denoted an arrogance such that it arose an eyebrow even in the Earl’s wife whose reputation for haughtiness cast a shadow that outran even the borders of her own lands.

George looked at the Countess expectantly - the woman who he loved very nearly as much as his own mother. The woman who never derided him for fidgeting with his book of hours during mass, the woman who applied salve to his wounds when he would constantly fall out of bed and vouched for him that they were earned on the sparring field, in order to shield him from Rob and Thomas Parr’s cruel derision and the potential of Isabel’s incisiveness. He peared down at the forest green of his doublet sleeve in shame. Shame for holding the Countess anywhere near in affection to his own wimple-wearing mother, whose frankness and coldness, though honest, rarely elicited charm.

‘And what you are trying to say cousin is that it is I that should be beseeching you to give your Isabel in marriage to me. That I was invited here to offer myself up in exchange for an honour much above me’ George’s face was puffing up into a crimson that stood out markedly against the cold watery colours of his doublet and cape. ‘You forget that though you may have made my brother king, you did not make me a man, and judging by what a king he turned out to be and-‘

‘And what?’ The Earl prodded on

‘-and what is in fact the truth about his and my diverging lineages’ George’s voice coming out as a strangled whisper ‘we both know the truth and how the divine order has been disturbed’

The Earl nodded knowingly, satisfied that he had extracted the confession he needed from his young cousin at his expense.

‘Therefore, I would find it odd that you find it amusing that I would be in good standing to marry the future young Duchess of Burgundy’ George continued his voice gaining courage ‘You dare insinuate that your offer of Isabel would be charitable and that it is I that should haggle for this honour, when dear cousin it is you who should be humbled by such a match’.

Having confirmed his own suspicion that George personally subscribed to that old rumour, the Earl then knew how to proceed further. He was about to express his proposal in full but seemed interrupted by the Countess who shot up as if in shock. The glare from the gilded edges of her caul burned in the hot summer sun, and indignantly she said ‘You would be calling your mother a whore! The one who sacrificed her life for you after Ludlow to see you safely spirited away to the Low Countries... She would have been queen, George!’

George was at a loss for words. The scales weighing up the two factors in his head were shifting in positions like two poles of a weathervane spinning frantically in a violent storm.

‘Veritas Lux Mea, cousin’ said a solemn George crossing himself. Since I was a ninny and blurted that out, I would do well to act ashamed by it. I shall play George the hero who bears the sacrifice of his mother’s dishonour on his weary shoulders and accepts the crown despite the love he bears for his brother.

The Countess who, like most women, raised her defences upon the suggestion of a fellow women’s dishonour - not for want of defending proud Cis’ honour but her own - was now reverting to her typically restrained composure and peacefully reclaimed her seat, while the Earl let out a resounding ‘hmm’.

George who just now realised that he had been standing throughout this entire encounter, made for the other side of the chamber for a heavy oak chair. Mayhaps I should have demanded Warwick give me his seat in deference and as an apology for keeping me on my feet and knees. Instantly regretting not doing that George stopped midway and took a seat on the chair he dragged with him.

‘George’ began the Earl calmly ‘It seems our minds are ad idem, do you recall the feast where you were made Earl of Richmond and John Woodville bested you at hawking?’

George nodded from the chair across the chamber, his previous bout of anger subsiding into a tired acquiescence.

‘I recall asking you whether you thought you could do better as king. Well do you remember?’ asked the Earl.

‘I remember that too’

‘I could make you king. With you on the throne we could cleanse this country’s government of the Woodville filth, restore piety to the court and mend our ties to France. Between us, what Edward did well was all my merit. If I were to be placed beside you as counsel, we could ensure that your reign would be at least an improvement on the current state of affairs’

‘Then you would recall cousin, that I gave no answer to your question about wanting to be king.’

‘You are too modest George’ said the Earl in an a tone so sweet it was resoundingly artificial. ‘I know your brother better than you do, the years between your ages made sure of that. I can tell you hand on heart that at six and ten years he had less of his wits about him than you now do. Besides if what you said about his paternity be true, then we would make god angry by failing to act’.

‘Now now cousin, if you would put me on the throne in hopes of restoring your French alliance I regret to tell you that I would never allow it. You know very well why. Just as I, you lost a brother and father to that bitch of Anjou and the latter’s head ‘till four years past still stood severed atop the gates of York next to my own father’s’ George realised that his tone was rising in aggression at a rate he could no longer contain, much like a wild horse who after daring to descend a steep hill could no longer calm its trot, descending into a grassy grave.

To his surprise, the Earl let out a melancholic sigh leading The Countess to instinctively place both of her hands over his. The crane white of her embroidered cotton chemise fell over both their hands like a bandage and it looked as though her touch was blocking a bleeding open wound.

The Earl’s voice now lowered to a solemn murmer, so much so that even George felt his fiery temper extinguish. ‘Now George, that is precisely the reason we must mend our relations with France. Margaret is but a distant relative of the French queen and given how France consented to me joining Edward and Bona of Savoy in marriage - his very own sister-in-law -, it is clear that the Spider King is eager to forge new alliances that would suit him better. Leaving that aside, you can now see why I laughed at your suggestion of Mary of Burgundy, for what man would want to be a mere consort of a Duchess when he can be King of England? And if that is what you shall become you can now see how a marriage with the heiress of Edward’s future ally would be quite impossible’

George had been flattered by his favourite sister’s concern in suggesting that marriage, but in truth, he was loyal to that match for his sister’s sake not for some idealisation of the future Duchess who was after all, still years away from her own flowering. Her father still entertains my dastardly brother-in-law Henry of Exeter at his court and with his own Lancastrian heritage, he would be far more likely than even the French to turn to Lancaster. Besides, what would I want with an eight year old bride?

‘I would not marry with Bona of Savoy or any other French Princess. I respect your logic but I cannot be bound to a woman who shares any kinship with the she-wolf that wrecked havoc over my life since I came into this earth’ stated George.

George suspected the Earl would arrogantly state that France would not give one of its daughters to a second son like him as an indemnity - a gamble too high even for the most compulsive gambler - which Louis XI was anything but.

He instead said: ‘I know that George. It simply will not do. All you need is here in England - a wife of a family even older than the Plantagenets whose loyalties would run with yours’

‘I know what you will suggest and I would marry Isabel, cousin. But not like this. I would not be your pawn like Edward was and I will not have her imposed upon me from above as if you would be my superior, ingratiating my humble person with so lofty a marriage’ said George

‘My apologies George, if my tone and actions were conducive to you believing me haughty. It is you who is the true heir of Lionel, Duke of Clarence, you would be our king and I your counsel but nothing more - I would not have thought you to accept any different. Now Isabel I recommend unto you for more than her blood. My finest daughter has the bearing of a queen from near birth and is well-read and wise beyond her years. If I may say so at risk of betraying her secret: she took a liking to you long before a marriage has even reached our minds and if I may be so bold, I believe you have noticed that too and care for her affection more than a jot’

‘Indeed cousin, I have always remarked her beauty and despite our familiarity, she still retains an otherworldliness to her that captivates and assures me, that in her, I may find the solace needed to keep my wits about me on the road to kingship’ said George already starting to alight from his chair in order to advance towards the Earl and Countess to ritualistically perform the hand-on-knee proposal for their daughter’s hand.

After once again receiving both their blessings and being brought up by the Countess to be embraced and kissed by her painted red lips as a son-in-law, he added ‘I do not know how strong her feelings are towards me, but at this point I could imagine no one else as my bride. If there ever was a plot concocted since our infancies to bring us together you may congratulate yourselves on your successes. I may not love her yet, but I am sure I shall forthwith. But cousin, you may count on my love and your daughter’s happiness as long as she be my wife and you do not perpetually dangle her fortune in my face to humble me, nor turn her into my keeper or a spy against me. Are we understood?’

The Earl and Countess nodded at what seemed both a reasonable and achievable request.

‘Do invite her to sit with you at dinner tonight, we have arranged a banquet honouring your return and perhaps you may be the one to tell her of your marriage. I am sure she would be joyous to hear it from you.’ said the Earl while the Countess smirked discreetly.

Exhausted after passing through more emotions in an afternoon than he would have in a week, George straightened his Scarlett hose which had wrinkled from all the twitching and tensing. He sauntered off out of the chamber and through the hall leading into the bailey, convinced he held his own as much as any man could against persons as formidable as the Earl and his Countess.

After the banquet George followed Isabel at her father’s behest out into the the courtyard of Middleham castle, away from the prying Neville eyes, yet still close enough that upon a twitch of the thread they would both fall back into their palms.

Isabel who had been so charming throughout dinner was now growing shyer with each miniscule step she daintily took. Her indigo skirts flashed in a dying opulence as the Wensleydale sunset befell the land in all its summer glory, and Isabel as well, as the snowy silk of her henin now appeared a pale orange complementing the warmth of her flushed cheeks where before the wine, were of custom icely pale.

George wondered at the how the hues of those northern lands were subject to the reign of the sun, which instead of setting at this hour as it would in the south, it merely turned all around it darker and in many ways deeper.

Finding it to be a fine time to stop this treck, George beckoned Isabel to sit by him. She happily obliged but said not a word as her gaze remained transfixed on the the juniper-coloured grass below them.

‘How did you find the feast my lord of Clarence? Father knew how much you love venison and Malmsey wine so he was very glad to have procured them for your arrival’ she said courteously yet still not sparing him even a look.

‘It was more than I could hope it to be’ he smiled

‘I am glad of it, my lord’

George ever the impatient man, decided to urge the conversation forwards. He gently yet decisively reached for both her hands turning her ever so slightly towards him. ‘Isabel, it is not my lord of Clarence but George, why would you impose such formalities on our correspondance?’

To his surprise she did not flinch, but rather seemed to expect this sudden gesture of closeness. This he found passing strange. Yet through it all she still feigned a degree of wide-eyed shyness.

‘I suppose you are right... George. You and I are well-acquainted. You just seem so much changed that you appear to me a man of the court now, not the boy who used to play practical jokes on Dickon and Margaret’.

‘Ah yes, remember when I tied Richard’s bootlaces to the stirrups and when he tried to canter, the horse threw him into the lake?’.

‘I felt wicked for laughing, but in truth I laughed so hard that day, that I gave myself a stomach knot’.

‘We were always the most wicked ones, I think’.

‘Me?’ questioned Isabel, smiling and palm on chest as if shocked by such a revelation. The flirt in her is returning, I see.

‘Yes, you. Remember when you thought it would be amusing to trap a frog inside Margaret’s salve. The poor thing decomposed in there and it was months until she realised that at the bottom of her pot, lay the entrails of that poor animal’.

‘Now that I think of it, my transgressions were much more ungodly than yours. Oh George, now you have made me feel bad for the poor frog. I had nearly forgotten!’ She said warmth slipping into her tone like a hot spring over a snowy valley.

‘Yes but you were always shrewd enough not to get caught’. He added with a wistfulness at the tip of his tongue.

Read the rest on here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22268239/chapters/54573088

All Chapters included :)

[undiscoverable-words]

New Receptionist Pt. 2

Pt 2

Alice: So, Dwight took me to Poor Richards last week. It was… Nice. I got drunk, learned a lot about my co-workers…

Dwight: Alice is a simple lightweight. She gets drunk easily and acts accordingly. She got sloppy at Poor Richards. It was difficult taking her back to her hotel.

Dwight takes Alice to his car, helping her into the backseat.

“Woo - Woo! Backseat!” Alice cheers.

“Come on, girl. You’re not heavy, but you’re making this difficult.” Dwight grumbles.

“You’re so nice, Dwight.” Alice grumbles, facedown against the seat cushion.

Dwight: I would’ve let her stay in one of our guest rooms at Schrute Farms, but it would’ve been impossible to get any puke out of the mattress.

The phone rings, alerting me to start doing my job instead of staring over at Dwight and Jim.

“Dunder Mifflin, this is Alice.”

Pam comes in asking to see Charles. She starts begging for her old job back, but Charles tells her that I’m the new receptionist. I breathe a sigh of relief.

“Don’t worry about her,” Dwight offers. “She made the stupid decision of following Michael on his crazy whim. You’re the new receptionist, and you’ll be here to stay.”

Jim gives the camera a look.

Jim: I don’t think Dwight realizes it yet, but he’s becoming partial to the new receptionist, Alice. He took care of her after taking her out for drinks, he’s encouraging her to feel safe at her job… He’s got it bad for the receptionist. (laughs) I remember what that was like.

Angela: I don’t care, Dwight can do what he wants with her. She’s just a young girl who sits at the front desk and answers calls. If he wants to slum it, fine.

At lunch, I sit at the back table by myself, picking at the vending machine snacks I ordered.

“Oh, hello there, Alice.” Andy greets, sauntering over to my table and taking a seat, drumming his hand on the surface. “So you had fun with the Schrute-ster on Friday, huh? If you want to have a really good time we could throw back some brewskis. I was a major drinker in college, always drunk or hungover, I was a bit of a partier. Still aced all my classes though– straight B’s.”

I raise my eyebrow at Andy, not saying a word.

“Andy, stop pestering the receptionist. That’s Jim’s job.” Dwight says, walking in from the kitchen. “Vending machine? Terribly unhealthy. Didn’t you pack a better lunch?” I shake my head.

“I’m staying in a hotel, Dwight. You think I have groceries or the means to pack a lunch?”

“Yeah, Dwight!”

“Shut it, Andy. Fair point, if Michael were here he’d offer to take you out to lunch, but he’s not. I shall do it, would you like to go out to lunch?”

I can’t help the smile that spreads onto my face.

“Yes, thanks, Dwight!”

The camera catches the mix of expressions from everyone as Dwight and I walk through the office, out to the elevators. Jim gives the camera a surprised, impressed look.

Jim: Alice is a nice girl, and Dwight might actually have a shot.  

Andy: Dwight’s getting a lot of face time with the hot new receptionist, and I think it’s unfair to the rest of us. Isn’t it bad enough that he wrecked my marriage? And I thought we were becoming friends…

“Thanks for saving me from Andy. I had no idea what to contribute to that conversation.” I admit, laughing.

I glance over at Dwight as he drives, catching him smile.

“He’s terribly arrogant,” Dwight comments.

“Yeah… You’re not wrong there.” I agree with a chuckle.

“Dwight? Where’s Dwight?” Charles asks, emerging from his office, looking for Dwight.

“Uhhh,” Jim tries, spinning around in his chair to look at Charles.

“Dwight isn’t here.” Andy says. “He left, for lunch, with our very important, new receptionist.”

Charles nods.

“I see…”

Jim: Turns out, Michael has been scalping a bunch of Dwight’s clients. I guess he’s been too distracted to notice…

Dwight and I return to the office, laughing. Charles immediately leaves his office and stands near Jim’s desk, looking stern.

“What’s this, Dwight? You leave, unwarranted in the middle of the day? And you take the receptionist? What if I had meetings, or important messages that I didn’t get in her absence.”

My jaw drops as I look between Dwight and Charles. Dwight looks ashamed and flustered.

“Sorry, Charles. I had nothing for lunch and Dwight wanted to make sure I had something to eat to keep me productive. It’s really my fault.” I offer, hoping to take the heat off of Dwight.

Dwight turns his attention to me, immediately shaking his head, disapproving of my self-blame.

“No…” he whispers. “Charles, it was my idea to go out to lunch. I’m sorry I wasted valuable company time and kept her from her responsibilities.”

Charles hums indistinctly. Dwight and I share a worried look. Without another word, Charles retreats back into his office, closing the door.

“I’m so sorry, Dwight.” I whisper, trying to reach for his hand.

“It’s fine,” he assures, pulling his hand away from my reach and heading over to his desk.

Jim gives me a sympathetic look.

An hour later, I catch Dwight leave the office. I try to ignore it and continue my work, but there’s not much to do.

“Jim,” I whisper, catching his attention. “What’s going on with Dwight?” I ask, glancing at the door to the office again. “He’s not in trouble is he?”

“Well, he’s losing clients thanks to Michael, our old boss. I’m sure he went to meet with Michael and sort it all out. Don’t worry, he’s not mad at you.”

I smile in thanks and pretend to have work to do, waiting for Dwight to return.

The camera catches Angela standing by the copier, glaring at me.

Angela (scoffs): This new floozy, nearly costing Dwight his job. He’s got to be smart about this. What? Yes, that’s true, I did cause Dwight to quit briefly… And I did convince him to go over Michael’s head to Jan… (huffs) whatever.

[oc-review-shop]

OC Review: Keith Gatti

Review by: Mod Charle

(continuing with the dating sim idea, although lookin it closely it fits better for a reverse harem… here’s the first dateable guy) human name: Keith Gatti

It does seem more like a reverse harem series than a dating sim. However, it is possible to make this into a dating sim by changing the backstories of each alien to have them appear around the same time.

real name: unknown,due to his language being incompatible with human languages

I do wonder, if this is the case, when in human form, is Keith able to communicate with Ida and others?

biological age: around 26-27 years old Height:  1.65 meters- somewhat taller (has two personas, but essentiallty they are the same)

If they are the same persona, I don’t feel the need to keep “two personas” in his bio. If they are the same, it is one persona.

Weight: HEAVY Body build: skinny/muscular

If he is very heavy, I would assume he is more big and muscular rather than skinny, like bodybuilders. Skinny doesn’t seem like it fits.

Voice: high pitched, soft, cute / rough, deep (closer to his true alien voice) dere type: Yandere. it will be explained why.

Yandere.... hmm.....

gifts from him: flowers, rollerskates… Approach level: VERY EASY

He kinda seems like a loving puppy lololol

chronological age: 5470 years old, but he spent time on earth (and the space (research) station ) only 40 years (dude, he travelled to earth, and didnt have faster than light time travel)

I am very confused on his age. His biological age is 26-27 years but there are 40 years, and 5470 years sprawled in this little section. How old is he? In alien years? In human years?

Species description: Keith’s species are some sort of gigantic amphibians, living in equally big aquatic enviroments, their skin is coloured accordingly to the “sand” and vegetation of the environment, having a stocky build to resist the changing pressure in land and underwater, and fins, to build resistance.

The species are also predators, but rather than chasing down the prey, they  just lure them using changing patterns on the skin and their visible veins to create a mesmerizing visage, and when the prey approaches, they hold it with their legs and commence eating them, first sucking their juices dry and then munching their dry bodies like a snack. besides obvious predator abilities, they can read feelings, and the reasons for those feelings, they just hold their claws onto the location of the heart of whoever they are reading and using their eyes to make them focus on the reader, its really simple, y'know-

I really like the species description and how each “amphibian-like” creature appears, but I am a little put off on how they lure their prey in. Generally, prey would only go near something if it looks like something familiar or safe. Therefore, I would have to recommend their skin and veins create different colors that resemble coral and such, although I do really like the idea! Also, you may need to go more in depth about how these creatures read feelings. Human emotions and alien emotions, I would imagine, are drastically different given they’re from different worlds. I suggest elaborating a little more on how they vary and how they are similar.

about keith: Keith is one excitable, cheerful boy, who’s really amazed by everything and might as well be a dog, loving to cuddle and nuzzle, however he has a cruel, jealous side, that he shows whenever someone outside the social circle he is in steps in and takes an interest to Ida,and uses their fear to his advantage, or manipulates them to do his biding.or else he would eat them, although he does it more on an impulsive whim,  Ida has no idea of this , thinking he is an uwu soft dumb marshmallow , and neither does Mabel, who would tell Ida inmediately, Caleb knows but shrugs it off, Drake is really angry at this because it might blow up their cover, and Xander just scolds him because eating people isnt nice, and because Ida might find out. yeah… (I know this only covered a few personality traits…sorry)

I think this is a good personality trait for Keith. He seems lovable but is easily jealous and vicious. This dating sim or harem would actually work out very well because Keith is a character that could easily get into the way of another character’s move on Ida.

while not much of his past is known other than him being the first of his batch to hatch, it is theorized that his jealous, manipulative, vengeful cruel persona is the real one , due to other members of his species cowering in fear in his presence, however, he IS genuinely cheerful around Ida and truly supports her and her dreams.he is also very optimistic in that he is going to be her one true love, despite all his jealousness

Keith has some major issues lmao

He still remembers the first time he met Ida, he was going to go crazy after years of isolation, the only contact he has had was with  scientists who just checked him up and left, but then came Ida, she was just cleaning up stuff, looking him and rambling about some things about travels and tourism, venting about her frustrations, he felt the urge of cheer her up, playing like a cat, humans like cats, however, maybe due to his size, she was more scared and angry , thus she searched for the nearest object which happened to be a metal bar that was used in case the door needed to be extra locked, and she knocked out two of his teeth with it.

Man, if I was looking for a man to be my significant other, I would search for one that would knock two of my teeth out with a metal bar on sight. But this is very reasonable. While it is cliche, if you were all alone and someone came to give you company, I bet something would start to blossom.

Keith understood perfectly she was ready to kill him in self defense if necessary, and she was about to start a ruckus (she does have anger issues, and her training was strictly cleaning related) , and she was going to get kicked out, thus, he was not going to see her again, he just calmly laid a claw on her, and looked her directly in the eyes, and found her frustrations and issues.

I think another reason why Keith might have the jealousness is because he was the first to meet Ida. You could maybe add in that these creatures have an “imprinting” thing going on that allows one to claim someone else as their significant other. This could work, but then again, all the other aliens are also going after Ida. Idk it’s just a thought.

Though he needed to talk to her and meet her outside of the job, the morphing device that was on a laboratory was perfect for creating his new persona, his human self, but he needed dna, which… wasnt hard to obtain, Ida’s suit was probably full of hairs, and whatnot, so he did what he had to do, take her suit and go away, it was a hard and painful process until he took a completely human form.

Dang that must hurt. However, I feel like using Ida’s DNA would make him look more like a girl. I would change this to Keith finding a way to obtain a male’s hair and then complete the transformation.

I think I explained in Ida’s profile what happened the next day…

Yes, yes you did.

Relationships:

with Ida:  he is completely infatuated with her, idolizing her, and admiring her, although this is not good, but once he starts respecting her as a human being and acknowledging her faults the ship can sail, if not, there’s suffering for both of them, he is taking steps, for example, he respects her space.

Overprotective but not pushy. Honestly Keith isn’t that bad of a dude.

With Mabel: Mabel is helping him woo Ida, although she isnt aware of his Yandere tendencies.

What a girl Mabel, yes. But I still think Ida and Mabel could be a route in this sim.

With Drake: they dont get along very well, because despite Drake being violent and bloodthirsty he doesnt sugarcoat it , they like to play toghether though…

If “play” means “trying to rip each others’ throats out”, yeah, I guess they love to play.

With Caleb : Caleb and Keith get along very well with each other, is not hard since both of them are very approachable.

Good boys.

With Xander: both are very jealous of Ida, although Xander fears keith, and keith fears xander as well, no reason

I feel like there should be a reason they fear each other. We generally know why Keith is feared, but Xander should have an underlying trait or secret that makes him extremely dangerous. Its always the sweet/quiet ones.

Trivia: *He adopted the manic pixie dream guy persona to cheer Ida up, he loves seeing her smile *According to Ida he weights like a horse, it might be hyperbole though. *His human form presents no glamour failure at first, but if very stressed he shows parts of his true form. *And mantaining his cute voice is difficult for him too *he is an amphibian and thus needs to be hydrated constantly, he carries a purse full of bottled water.

I honestly really like Keith a lot more now. He originally seemed too generic and likable, but he has flaws and I do want to learn more about the fear everyone seems to show around him. Don’t be afraid to send in your other characters, i would be happy to review them!

Thanks for reading, and I hope this helps! (◕ ω ◕✿)

*All OC credit goes to daniluni

~Mod Charle