#or the duke of york for that matter

[britneyshakespeare]

i like how bernard hill and brian protheroe are the same age and yet when bernard hill plays the father of brian protheroe. mm idk i just believe it

[historysisco]

On This Day in New York City History January 23, 1943: Jazz bandleader Duke Ellington (April 29, 1899 - May 24, 1979) performs at Carnegie Hall for the first time. The concert had a two-fold purpose. It was a fundraising benefit for the Russian War effort and it was a celebration for the 20th anniversary of Duke Ellington within the New York City music scene.

This show would be the first of five consecutive years where Ellington and his band would play at Carnegie Hall.

#DukeEllington #CarnegieHall #MusicHistory #AfricanAmericanHistory #AfricanAmericanStudies #BlackHistory #BlackStudies #BlackHistoryMatters #NewYorkHistory #NYHistory #NYCHistory #History #Historia #Histoire #Geschichte #HistorySisco

(at Carnegie Hall)

https://www.instagram.com/p/Cnwg7Z4uxC1/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[dragon-kazansky]

Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Season Two}

Season one

Chapter Seventeen - End of the season

♡♡♡

The duke and duchess were holding the last ball of the season. It was going to be a grand event to be certain. The whole ton would be there.

You were wearing your last gown made for the season. It was beautiful. A shade of green. It had little jewels sewn into it, so it would sparkle while you danced.

You looked forward to seeing Thomas.

Though you had not secured an engagement within the time of the season, you hoped that you may continue to correspond with Thomas while he was in the country, and perhaps go see him at his family estate, that he may ask.

Your mother would be so proud.

Your maid did your hair and helped the jewellery. It was going to be a spectacular season finale. You could feel it in your bones.

Hastings House was beautiful.

You walked with your mother around the fountain to the main entrance. The ball was to be held in a small courtyard in the middle of the house. Daphne had done a splendid job.

There was a painting of the duke and duchess on display. Painted bt Henry Granville. It was beautifully done.

You stand off to the side while your mother chats with guests. You watch people waltz.

Violet arrives with Eloise. Daphne goes to talk to her sister.

You keep your eyes peeled for any sign of Thomas.

The next to come through the door are the Featheringtons. You cannot deny your relief at seeing Penelope again. Granted, she is wearing yellow, but she is here.

One dance ends, and the next dance begins.

You take a stroll about the ball. Thomas has yet to arrive, it seems. You smile at Penelope as you pass her. She smiles back, too, seemingly surprised you had paid her any attention. People usually don't.

You see Colin parting ways with Benedict across the room. Your eyes follow the second eldest Bridgerton as he walks.

He hasn't noticed you.

Maybe that's for the best...

No.

No. He is your friend and you want to talk to him. You are about to make your way across the room when a servant comes up to you with a note on his tray. You look at him confused.

"For you, ma'am."

You look at the note and pick it up. The servant leaves, and you unfold the paper. The handwriting belongs to Thomas.

I must apologise. I am to leave for York immediately. I shall not be at the Hastings ball. Do have fun on my behalf.

- T. Hardy

You stare at the note in silence. He's not coming at all. He must have left earlier in the day. Perhaps in a rush. You had been at the Bridgertons that afternoon, so if he called the house, you wouldn't have seen him.

If he had called to the house, the butler would have told you, or even your mother. He did not call... So he must have been in a rush.

You sigh. You fold the note back up and leave it on a tray of a passing waiter. They can dispose of it for you.

Glancing up, you find two blue eyes gazing at you. Benedict has seen you. Now you're definitely going to go talk to him. You make your way across the courtyard and come to stand beside Benedict.

"Hello."

"Hello," he replies softly.

Silence fills the space between you, and you turn to the dancers to occupy yourself, and to keep from looking at him again.

"Is Lord Hardy not with you?" Benedict couldn't help asking. He was surprised to see you standing alone tonight.

"No. He left London already. Back to York."

Benedict is even further surprised by the information. He thought Hardy would stay until the very end. He believed the man to be falling for you.

"I see."

You look down and try to keep yourself in check. "I thought maybe I had finally found someone. Someone who perhaps desried me, but it seems I was wrong."

Benedict keeps quiet.

"I wasn't enough for anyone this season. I tried, and I failed. Doesn't matter, I suppose. Next year might be different."

"You didn't fail."

You look up at Benedict. "I didn't secure a proposal or even managed to keep a man interested enough to at least say goodbye before he left."

"You might see him again," he says.

"Somehow, I feel not."

Benedict feels for you. You have been nothing but glorious and wonderful and yourself all year round. You wiggled yourself into the lives of his family and became a pleasant consistent in their lives. You encouraged his passions and made him feel a little more like himself.

"You didn't fail," he says again.

You look up at him and crack a smile. "Next year then."

He nods.

The music changes and the floor is cleared. You notice the duke and duchess approach each other. You knew something had happened between them, but didn't know what. Yet, here they were about to dance for the ton.

You smile at Daphne as dances with her husband. They look like such a handsome couple. You envy them. You envy what they have.

The way they look at each other. How close he holds her to him.

Love.

It is so rare. It's so rare that very few people ever get to feel it for real. You want it. You want to know what it feels like to have, well, a soulmate. The one person made just for you. To love and to hold. To cherish. To share every moment with.

Benedict shifts hisngaze from his sister to look at you. He can see the way you watch Daphne and Simon dance.

Benedict's had fun. He played around. Tested the waters. But looking at you right here and right now makes him rethink everything.

Genevieve has certainly been fun. Yet, if you were going to try again for your own sake next year, perhaps he should, too. You, who inspired his art. Inspired him to try harder and practise more.

Perhaps next season, you will both benefit and grow more as people.

As the waltz continues, the sound of thunder rumbling in the distance brings you to look up at the sky. The heavens open and rain pours. You gasp softly as the cool droplets hit your skin.

Benedict instinctively reaches out for you and guides you under the canopy toward the house. You look up at him and then turn back to the ball. Everyone else does the same, seeking shelter from the rain.

Everyone but Daphne.

Simon is holding her hand as if he was guiding her to shelter, but Daphne stops him from doing so. She closes her eyes and lifts her face to the sky, letting the rain fall.

She looks beautiful.

Lady Danbury stops anyone else from going out into the rain. "Everyone... I believe this evening is complete. We shall thank our gracious hosts for such a splendid soiree in the morning. Now, go. Out."

Everyone begins to leave.

Benedict slips his hand into yours and guides you out. You look up at him quietly.

Daphne and Simon have some talking to do.

Benedict guides you through the house and outside to the carriage. It's still raining. His hair sticks to his head and you giggle.

"What?"

"Nothing..." You smile.

He gives you a boyish grin. He helps you into the carriage and stands around in the doorway.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" He asks.

"You leave for the country tomorrow."

"Are you not also?"

"Me and Mama are to stay in London. We don't have a country house to go to in the summer."

Benedict didn't know that. "Did your father not own an estate?"

"We had to sell it when he died. He left us with a great deal of dept."

He realises in that moment how much he doesn't know about you. You're so much more complicated than he originally thought.

Your mother clears her throat and Benedict moves to let her into the carriage.

"See you soon, I hope?" He looks at you.

"I'll write."

He nods and watches the footman close the door. He steps back as the carriage leaves, and Benedict finds himself a little lonely.

♡♡♡

When you rise the next morning, you have no idea of anything that happened within the Featherington house. Lord Featherington died. He was killed.

Penelope spent much of the morning in tears. Elosie had gone to visit her.

Marina went with Sir Philip Crane. The brother of her deceased love who never made it back home. She was to marry him. At least she could have her child and be looked after.

You had decided to go to the Bridgerton house before they all left. It was the least you could do for Benedict and his family. They had all seemed pleased to see you when you arrived, and that made you feel warm inside.

Colin was leaving for Greece. Another reason for Penelope to be upset. Colin was going to be so far away travelling the world.

You waved him off as he rode away on his horse. Benedict had his arm locked with yours.

As the rest of the family headed inside, you struck up conversation with Daphne, Simon, and Anthony. While the duke and duchess are staying in London a little longer, it would seem Anthony intends to find a Viscountess.

That leaves all of you stunned.

Though he follows it up by saying he will keep love out of it to keep things simple. Daphne frowns at that. As do you.

"Perhaps he will learn," she says.

"Perhaps not," you reply.

Eloise hurries over to her brother, who is about to climb onto a horse. You had already said farewell to him.

"Give my regards to Madame Delacroix." She says to Benedict.

"Your regards will have to wait, El," he responds. "She is making a short trip to France."

"Oh? Not going to say goodbye to her?" Eloise asks.

"I did. Last night, if you must know."

Benedict had gone to see her after he bid you goodnight. He went to say goodbye. After seeing you at the ball last night, he decided to change his mind on a few things.

Granted, the goodbye was a long one. He spent a couple of hours at the shop, but nothing untoward happened.

"You said goodbye to her?"

"After Daphne's ball, yes." Benedict then mentioned he spent most of the ball with you.

Eloise worked out that if Madame Delacroix had been at the shop all night. That couldn't have been her in the carriage when Eloise went to protect Whistledown.

Eloise headed back inside.

"Are you coming?" Benedict calls.

You turn and see him on his horse. "Me?"

"Yes, you." He chuckles.

"Where?"

"One last ride around the square before me and my family leave for the summer." He offers.

You smile and look up at him. "I'm not dressed for riding.

"No matter. He offers you his hand."

"Benedict... we cannot create a scandal at the very end of the season."

"Why not?" He grins

"Because I said so."

He laughs.

"Very well. I'm glad you came to see us." He says.

"Me too. Have a lovely summer, Benedict."

"You too." He speaks your name softly, smiling. You both stay like that for a moment, looking at each other. The moment is broken we spurs his horse onward.

You watch him go with a smile.

You look around the square and sigh softly.

Next season was going to be different. It had to be.

♡♡♡

@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333

@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived - @ajdelilah - @aadu2173

@booknerdlife - @tamlinrose - @sarahskywalker-amidala - @cheryyluv - @louschan - @lou-la-lou - @cultish-corner

@hopshusushi - @katherinejess - @nannabug - @afunkyfreshblog - @f0x33 - @dd122004dd -

@jupitervenusearthmars - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @captainlunaxmen - @winchestersimpalababy - @acupnoodle

@ms-fandomgirl - @fablesrose - @anyaisinyourcloset - @meowzerzstuff - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @crazymar15

@cosmixstar - @bree3parchen - @berrnuu - @charmainemaclendon - @pinkpantheris - @krismdavis

@biancamde - @ifgslsofbsodbf - @kniselle - @berarenado - @grassclippers - @bwormie - @avengersgirllorianna

[mossfrg]

Jersey Gotham

Okay as someone born and raised in Jersey, I feel like we as a fandom are missing out on truly Jersey-ified Gotham. Like, c’mon, Jersey Girl Brucie Wayne??? So here I am to present a list of things I need more of because god damn it make Batfam— mostly Bruce, Jason, Tim, Steph, and Duke— Jersey (all based on my own personal experiences/real things that have happened to me):

Bruce cannot pump his own gas. He just. Doesn’t know how to. It’s not like a rich person thing, he just never learned cause he’s from fucking Jersey and never leaves Gotham. Jason didn’t know how and Talía lost her shit “How??? You are child superhero??? Who died and spontaneously came back??? But you can’t pump gas??” Tim kinda knows cause of Titans but again, he never really had to. (There’s a Twitter threaded dedicated to the Wayne family titled “is this rich or Jersey”). Steph and Duke can but they both pretend not too.

There have been fist fights over whether it’s pork roll or taylor ham. Jason and Bruce are very adamantly pork roll like the good Southern Jersey boys they are— it’s the one thing they can agree in most days— but Tim is taylor ham. Steph and Duke, despite being South Jersey, like to cause chaos and flip sides constantly. Dick, Damian, and Cass couldn’t care less.

The Absolute Hatred of New York/NYC. Doesn’t matter which kid it is, Bruce (and Alfred) got them all on board with this. Don’t even get them started on the Statue of Liberty; it’s a Wayne family tradition to try and buy it from NY because technically it’s more in NJ than NY and it’s closer too. They’ve yet to be successful but Bruce has hope for when it’s Damian’s turn.

And bc of this hatred of NYC comes the support of Philly!! None of them are super big sport fans, but they do cheer for Eagles, 76ers, and Union. Bruce, thanks to Alfred, is a big fan of soccer (“it’s football, master Bruce, I didn’t raise you in a barn”), and is a member of the Sons of Ben. He can be found in the River End of the stadium with Jason cheering for Union at pretty much every home game. There are multiple videos of Brucie Wayne and Jason Wayne screaming at refs, launching fireworks off the roof, and cursing out opposing teams’ players. Duke and Tim can be found 76ers games, while Steph frequents Eagles games.

Accents. Pls for the love of god give those boys (and Steph) accents. They are from New Fucking Jersey. They say “cawfee” and “tawlk.” They pronounce 0% of their t’s in the middle of words— kitten is ki’en, Trenton is tren’in. Jason and Steph drop letters when they gets pissed, Bruce slurs words, Duke and Tim drop passive-aggressive “y’all’s” to piss people off.

Driving. Now it’s not that they’re shit drivers, it’s that everyone else is a shit driver, and it’s not helped that majority of them learned to drive in the Batmobile. Steph has a loudspeaker on her car and frequently yells “fucking Pennsylvania turn your goddamn blinker on!” while driving. Bruce has a room in the manor dedicated to his speeding tickets. Tim as gotten into multiple fists fights at lights because people were driving slow in the fast lane. Jason is infamous for doing the Jersey Slide.

Jason, Tim, and Steph have gotten mugged before. They talked their way out of it and gave tips to the mugger. Bruce has kicked a rabid raccoon while walking home before because what else was he supposed to do? Duke has ordered a “pork roll egg and cheese on an everything” before in Not-Jersey and cried because they don’t have it. Several foreign benefactors of WE have asked for translators at meetings with Brucie cause Brucie’s accent is so thick and exaggerated. IN CONCLUSION: making Batfam (and gotham) Jersey is funny as hell and presents so many good opportunities. Make Batfam Jersey! (again these are all just my personal experiences, big state yada yada, different experiences, blah blah idgaf I jsut need batfam fist fighting over pork roll)

[andersonfilms]

ಣ՞˚.┊ TWO LOVERS & AN OAK TREE

feat. duchess!abby x princess!reader

warnings. none really, this is a pure fluff fest with minimial angst splashed in the beginning, bad writing probably.

summary. caught in the quarrels of desires and duty, the aging duchess finds herself trapped in a craving she's sure cannot be satiatied, not until she has you.

duchess!abby who is known as the pariah of new york society. as much as her father tells her it doesn't bother him, she knows on some level it has too. it's silly to think it's only due to the fact of pursuing what she likes. at times, it drowns her, knowing she can't just be a bystander, but she tries to do it quietly. because of who her father is, abby's brother, her — all of it is inescapable. stupidly, they judged solely because she much rather preferred the women in tightened baby blue corsets and intricate ballgowns than the balding men with receding hairlines looking for their wives to take care of them, rather than searching for genuine connection. it didn’t really matter much anyways, abby would never want the life her father dreamed for her, kind man or not. she’d never want them the same way they pine after her. even if it was just a title they chased, but abby always thought it was more. every single candidate wanted to be the one to change her, break her into submission, be the one who reforms her from being a dyke.

duchess!abby who only gets by on her family name, a constant reminder her brother likes to make. it burns every time he says the world will never be ready for someone like you. there's time where abby starts to truly believe him. it's when she drowned her weight in bourbon, trying to forgot how much she hates herself for not being able to love a man, marry a man, swallow her personal desires and just give her father what he craves. but she can’t. she’ll never be able to, no matter how much shame it brings her family.

duchess!abby who doesn’t think much of it when her father tells her they’ll be hosting two siblings who unexpectedly lost both of their parents. she decides to make herself scarce when they arrive, abby doesn’t need the reminder of the grief she once felt. abby keeps herself busy in the study, tends to her required responsibilities. she hides, arguably what she’s best at.

duchess!abby who physically becomes aware of your presence when she faces you for the first time. abby had watched you from a distance but it’s precisely where it came to a halt. even if she knew it wasn’t the best idea, she couldn’t help herself. watching through precarious windows, slumped against a tree as your voice managed to pull her from a lively read, passing the hall and stopping to watch as her own brother, jackson, attempts to flirt but your eyes catch hers and abby would scurry in a blink of an eye. it’s the closest circumstance she could be with you. especially with her family after your title, but jackson seems to be positively smitten with you. he likes to think it was written in the stars, the two of you were fated or at least to him. the duke and the princess has a fine ring to it and their father had been a dog with a bone, pushing with a certain ending in sight. 

duchess!abby who is shocked to see you walk away from the her brother, who is clearly frustrated as you leave him alone by the front doors with your back turned. abby lets her eyes leave you. she has to. nothing good ever comes from tripping over women who she can’t have. you can never be hers, even if her idiot of a brother wasn’t involved, she couldn’t be with you in the way she wishes for. 

duchess!abby who tries greatly to keep away from you, but you do no such thing. you meet her next to the fountain in the garden abby finds solace in. you’re not speaking as you inch closer and closer to her, the tumbling feeling reels abby towards you — certainly doesn’t even seem fair at this point. she tries not to focus on the sweet scent of your body wash. lavender? eucalyptus? both? maybe. you haven’t said two words to her and abby is dying to dive between your thighs, touch your soft skin, kiss your stupidly perfect lips. truly, it’s entirely pathetic how quickly you turn her into a hormonal teenager, but it isn’t the case. not anymore. it flows through her bloodstream, crawling it’s way into her heart, itching for one taste of you. abby has to remind herself you can’t possible feel the same. a princess, it’s what you are, a beautiful, breathtaking royal who will find her match. if you knew the desire to take over her very essence, you’d be disgusted by her.

duchess!abby who can feel your eyes on looking up, trying to get her attention, but she knows once you have it she’ll never be able to let go. so, she takes another swing of the bourbon hoping the burn will ease the unsettling thought of you with her brother. it won’t but the thought it might could be comforting.

duchess!abby who tries to hide the strong-willed smile tempting to worm it’s way, your voice coaxing it out like a vixen. it’s natural the way you talk to her, like you’ve done it a thousand times before, going in explicit detail about her day. you make some stupid joke, it’s so dumb, but abby laughs. you smile, feeling like it’s a reward to receive just an ounce of her attention. she’s stubborn, difficult — but she’s different. anyone looking at her would tell you she’s different, but you can’t help but admire the way she looks in a white button up, underneath her black vest. she really isn’t anything a duchess should be, she presents herself more like a duke, but you’re so intrigued by her. so, you’re saying stupid jokes, once the first one rolls, you can’t stop.

duchess!abby who lets you get close to her after the first nights the two of you talked. you start meeting abby every day in the garden. you open to her about everything, trusting her almost immediately. she offers to take you on walks, the first three walks were platonic. conservatively, her hands held behind a strong back afraid her touch might burn you. abby’s built a strong wall around her, specifically catered to keep others out. day by day, her resolve slowly seemed to wither away the more time she spent with you.

duchess!abby who realizes just how much she cares about you when she lets you set in front of her, abby’s back resting against her favorite tree with you nestled warmly between her thighs. she takes note how your body slumps, your corset gone for the nightly rendezvous. abby lets her big hands roam your plush stomach, your slip is made of silk and it’s soft to touch. she can feel the way your body twitches as her thumbs rub delicate circles at your hips. you hum her name quietly, as if it’s supposed to help abby. everyone else, the women who had shown their interest are nothing compared to you. meaningless night caps to make her feel less lonely, but you? she’s starting to wonder if she is falling, hopelessly and abundantly, in love with you.

duchess!abby who doesn’t take the opportunity to kiss you then. she thinks about it constantly. irrevocably imprinted on her mind, she plays over your smile, the way you press impossibly close to her body, your delicate hands never leaving her thick thighs. abby over plays the way you hum her name sweetly send shivers through her her spine.

duchess!abby who doesn't think it's possible she'll over get over how beautiful you are. you’re wearing a slip abby hasn’t seen before, there’s a slit so high, abby sees stars. cerulean, blues get lost as she scans over your body. your skin look angelic as the moonlight bathed your skin, complexion practically glows from within. abby knows she won’t be able to control herself any longer. being with you will break her in half, might shatter her family, it will completely dissipate her reputation and yours, but a life knowing you seems all the more dreadful.

she can't take her eyes off you, as you carefully undo her dirty blonde locks. she lets you, and you love it. yearn for it more than you can handle, but you welcome the comforting feeling more than you can expect.

abby gazes at you fondly, lost in the feeling of loss, beauty, acceptance even lingering as she feels the warmth beneath her fingertips. she wonders if there is any light left in her to reach you and will it be enough? the duchess isn’t not sure but she accepts these moments as is.

“you’re distracting me.” you admit, thumb grazing over abby’s chin, her eyes lost in wonder as her eyes find you.

she blushes. you try not to let it inflate your head.

“how so?” she tilts her head, your grip firm, as her soft lips pout at you. as if she’s innocent by any means.

yeah. right.

it’s been a game of cat and mouse between the two of you. achingly, you don’t want to give in, but there’s no self-control to be found. not really, no anymore. tediously, as each week passes, you find yourself here every night, sitting on her comfortable thighs underneath the righteous protection of the oak tree.  

“i must go before i am missed. you should do the same.”

carefully, you motion to move your body away from her, but strong palms press against your lower back, the night gown thin enough you can feel her warmth. abby lunges you forward, there’s hardly any space left, your lips ghost over hers, taunting you as she teases. 

“i should do something, that much i am sure of.” abby declares as a confused gaze becomes you. 

“i need to—” abby halts, words failing her mind as she soothingly rubs your cheek, the pad of her thumb rubs circles over the smooth surface. 

“do what?” your own voice fails you as it shakes along with your trembling body, anticipation building, high enough for unsettling nerves to surface. achingly, her breath overwhelms your lips, your senses even. 

then there’s an omission, a secret you’ve also held in your heart, one that’s been as evident as the shine of the sun. the one you hope she felt too and now? you know for certain.  

“what i should have done many moons ago.” 

hope you enjoyed! lmk what you think. mwah!

taglist: @plutolovesyou @brackishkittie @nybueckers @only4theweeknd @tlouloser @marvelwomenarehot0 @grey-jedi12 @r3starttt @bittersu1te @pxgeturner @maxinephobia @marsworldd @aouiaa @mytwoseater @cherrybunny @twopeoplee @i-lov3-w0men

wanna be tagged?

[rosesanddecay]

Oscar Isaac Characters Finding You Dead

Minors DNI

Featured Characters: Miguel O’Hara, Moon Knight System, Basil Stitt, Blue Jones, Poe Dameron, Nathan Bateman, Duke Leto Atreides, Prince John, Santiago “Pope” Garcia, Anselm Vogelweide, Llewyn Davis, Abel Morales x gn!reader

Sorry if anyone is ooc!

CW: death, murder, suicide, blood/gore, break-in, various wounds, torture, etc. + pet names, untranslated Spanish, so on.

Notice! Not all of these scenarios are romantically founded, the reader is just someone who knew the character/was close with them.

These are just some short, dumb little rambles/headcannons of mine, so it’s not written the best.

Not proof read or heavily edited

Miguel O’Hara - Villain Attack

There was never a doubt in Miguel’s mind, he knew that one day he’d have to save you. But not like this…

A Green Goblin anomaly had appeared and started bombing Nueva York.

You’d think with all the Spider People so close by, there’d be no casualties. But being so focused on protecting other universes, he almost neglected his own.

The moment Miguel was aware of the anomaly, he and many other Spiders rushed in to help protect the city.

The damage was already extreme, with two buildings nearly demolished.

Spiders spread across the scene, saving and moving the bystanders as Miguel focused on the alternate Goblin.

After capturing the terrorizer, Miguel started barking orders to everyone, wanting everything cleared up asap.

He was heading back to base as the spiders cleared the rubble.

“Oh god- MIGUEL!” One of the Spiders cried out as they tried to lift a large blanket of concrete up. The urgency in their voice quickly set Miguel off.

Miguel rushed over, his heart dropping seeing your dust covered body.

How long had you been under there? Why didn’t anyone sense you sooner? Miguel’s mind raced with panic.

With his sheer strength, he threw the debris away from your body and checked your vitals, his eyes focused on your face the entire time.

Open your eyes… please… mi amor…

When didn’t feel a heartbeat, he went to start cpr, but realized your ribs were broken. The broken bones had stabbed your vital organs, he couldn’t save you, it would’ve only caused more damage.

Miguel didn’t even realize he was crying until he saw his tears hit your face, muddling the dust covering your skin.

It wasn’t often he cried, hell, it took a good few minutes for him to start crying over Gabriella’s death. But after another loss, he couldn’t hold in the pain he was already barely containing.

His arms cradled your broken body with the most care possible. It didn’t matter that you were gone, you were his, the person he swore to protect.

I failed again…

Sobs ruptured through the bombing site. The boss who everyone saw as intimidating and cold, was now hunched over, sobbing over your limp body.

I failed.

I failed.

I failed…

Moon Knight System - Steven / Marc / Jake - Break-in and Murder

Steven, once again, had a late night of work at the gift shop. He was exhausted when he came home, but was more than happy to be back home after stocking shelves for hours.

He was almost tempted to let Marc or Jake front instead, but Steven wanted to see you before Jake took off to do Konshu’s bidding later in the night.

“Love, I'm back!” He says, keeping up his cheerfulness. It had been a long day, he just wants to see you.

Looking around the house, Steven felt confused. You normally rushed to meet him, to welcome him back.

Where were you?

Walking into the bedroom, Steven saw your form under the blankets.

“Love? Are you not feeling well?” He asked quietly, worried he might wake you.

You looked at peace, your hair tousled as it lays on the pillow. Your skin was a bit pale, but Steven smiled softly, assuming you were just tired, he knew he sure was.

His hand fell on your covered stomach as he sat beside you. But a warmth quickly spread over where he had applied pressure to the blanket.

Looking over, Steven nearly had a heart attack. His hand was tacky from blood that now soaked the thick comforter that’s covering you.

With fear rushing through his veins, he ripped off the covers to reveal the stab wounds littered across your torso.

A scream ripped through his chest as he quickly tried to see if you were still alive. His heart dropped when he felt your cold skin and lack of a heart beat.

Despite Jake and Marc trying to desperately front, Steven wouldn’t let them or listen to their pleads.

Instead, he grabbed your body and sobbed. His hand clasped yours, wishing yours would squeeze his, that you’d wake up and kiss his worries away.

No, no, no— what happened— love… oh god…

It took a good while for Steven to let one of the others front, but Marc took over when he got the chance.

Both had been confined to the mirrors in the bedroom, wishing they could hold you like Steven had. Instead, for over an hour, they were stuck in the mirrors, cursed to grieve from a distance.

Steven faded back into the subconscious, too drained to watch Marc from the mirror.

Jake, on the other hand, took a step back into the subconscious because he had his own plans.

Marc didn’t sob as much as Steven did, but his pain was just as bad.

He had lost so much in life, he was almost confused on how to express his grief for you.

His fingers run along your face, tracing every detail he loves so much. Marc wished you would open your eyes, but your body was long since cold.

Marc wished he complimented you more. Sure, he praised you often, but did you know how much he loved you?

His heart ached with guilt. Marc wanted to make you blush once more from his compliments and soft kisses.

He didn’t know who did this. But he would. They’d find out who did this.

They all would get justice for you.

By Konshu’s word, he swore they would.

It was Marc who called the police and watched as you were dragged away to the hospital morgue.

It was Marc who watched the security footage that showed your killer breaking into the apartment and leaving an hour later.

It was Marc who found out the explicit details that came with your murder.

Marc was the one who told Steven and Jake the details.

This shouldn’t have ever happened… but now we know. What do we do next?

Jake was the protector, or so he’s supposed to be.

Standing over your body in the freezing morgue, Jake stared at your expressionless face.

He could remember the last time you two had a date night. The night was warm as he drove the two of you around town. He could remember the beautifully warm smile that broke across your face as the date came to a close.

Jake would do anything to see that smile again.

The others had already fronted to say their final goodbyes, Jake wanted to be the last one. He wanted to talk to you one last time.

“We found out who did this, amor.” He whispered, trying to contain his wavering voice.

“They won’t get away with this…” His lips brushed your forehead.

”I’m sorry I couldn’t save you…” His tears finally fell down as he reluctantly pulled away.

As he left the hospital, Jake dawned the suit and slipped into the night, ready to enact revenge for you.

Your murderer will regret ever laying a finger on you…

Basil Stitt - Suicide

Basil hadn’t seen you in a while. Yes, part of it was because he had locked himself in his apartment, but he also just hadn’t seen you pass by his door.

He always had his eye to the peephole when you should be leaving or getting home from work.

Is that weird? Of course, but it made him feel less alone. He wanted to talk to you, but his scars contained him to his room.

Where were you? He wondered after spending an entire day looking out into the hallway.

Basil’s heart dropped when he saw movers taking garbage bags out of your apartment.

What are they doing to your things?

Despite his fear, Basil dawned his paper bag and poked his head out.

“What are you guys doing?” Basil questioned nervously.

“There was a suicide. The family wanted us to collect the person’s belongings.” The confused and hesitant workers answered.

Basil slammed his door and collapsed to the ground instantly. The paper bag tumbling to the floor as he clutched and pulled his hair.

His body trembled with grief and hatred as tears pooled on the floor.

He never was good at reacting to bad information, but this was worse.

Why did you leave him too? What did he do wrong?

First it was his face, then his job, then his family and girlfriend, but now you too?

His tears turned to screams and Basil went on a destructive rampage in his apartment, the agony overwhelming him.

He blamed himself for your death, despite barely knowing anything about it.

Maybe if he hadn’t gone into hiding, you would’ve lived. Maybe you two could’ve been lonely together.

But he was also angry.

How could you leave him after everything that happened to him? When he needed you the most?

You didn’t know though. How could you? Your neighbor, the only person you saw everyday, had disappeared for weeks without a word.

Basil knew that, but nothing could stop the emotions flooding and pouring out of him.

Why did you leave me? Why? Why?! Why?!?

Blue Jones - Murdered by a Client

Working for Blue always had its risks, and everyone knew that, including him.

But Blue didn’t expect this.

You had been bought out for the night by a rich newcomer. Nothing bad was supposed to happen.

Blue gave them permission to use you as you saw fit. As long as the merchandise didn’t get damaged, anything went.

Blue stood over your strangled body, his face neutral and flat.

Your glossed over eyes stared back at him, lips hung open loosely.

He didn’t expect his toy to be destroyed, let alone strangled to death.

Your costume was still on, but your makeup was out of place. Blue’s doll was a beautiful, broken mess.

Blue exhaled a puff of smoke as he turned to the killer, the man a sobbing mess.

“I didn’t mean to- they wouldn’t listen to me- please let me go, I’ll compensate you-“ He tried to ramble out, shutting up when the barrel of Blue’s gun pressed against his forehead.

The shot rang through the entire building. The girls and clients quickly rushed out of the other rooms to see what happened.

Screams and tears broke out from the girls as Blue pushed past everyone going to his office.

But it was once he was alone that Blue had the chance to process what happened.

Everytime he closed his eyes, he saw your dead ones. It hurt seeing something he owned in such a state.

Only one tear falls down his cheek as he reviews the footage of what happened. He always kept cameras in the rooms, it was a security measure, but he didn’t think he’d actually ever watch the footage for something like this.

Blue already knew the man was lying about why he killed you, but it hurt to watch you get choked and beg to be let go of.

The man was just angry, he only wanted to kill. You had done nothing wrong. Which made Blue mad.

He leaned back in his seat as the hot, silent tears fell down his cheeks, hidden by the cigar smoke flooding the front of his face.

Blue decided that, from the forward, he was going to be far more strict with who could touch his toys…

My poor bunny…

Poe Dameron - Spaceship Crash

You and Poe had agreed to stay safe, to meet one another after the fight concluded.

Together, you were going to celebrate the victory.

Poe knew you were an intelligent flier, that you were going to do great things for the universe.

There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that everything went well, until he joined the celebrations…

Everyone was celebrating over the successful stop to the First Order. But as Poe searched the crowds, he realized you were missing.

Fearing the worst, he darted to the medical tents, desperately looking for you. His fears were met when he saw your barely breathing body.

Poe fell to his knees besides the cot you rested on, analyzing the damage you had taken.

He called out your name, to no response.

“Their ship was shot and crashed. There were some malfunctions and the safety’s didn’t trigger. They don’t have much longer, there’s nothing we can do on such short notice.” A nurse sadly explained.

“So you're just leaving them to die out!?” Poe exclaimed in horror, his tears falling fast and hard.

Despite wanting to reprimand the nurse, he knew it would do nothing. Instead, he held your hand to his lips as he watched you until your final breath.

In your final moments, Poe had been whispering soft and loving words to you, hoping you could hear him.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here sooner, that any of this happened. You deserve the world, the galaxy. You helped save us. You’re a hero… you’re my galaxy…”

Poe couldn’t stop crying, and he could barely hear himself over the cheering outside.

He should’ve been celebrating with you, this shouldn’t have happened.

No one knew where Poe had gone, and hours later, Finn had to pull Poe away from your body.

Despite all reluctance, Poe eventually left your side for the night, but he didn’t stop mourning you.

That night, he spent his time in your room holding your belongings close, not wanting to lose the last bits of you he does have.

My galaxy, I’m so so sorry…

Nathan Bateman - Killed by a Prototype

You had been one of the few people Nathan trusted enough to come around the house.

Not that he ever let you go downstairs, no.

He didn’t need you to.

When first developing Ava and her predecessors, he had chosen to try and study a real person. Not through the cameras like he did later on, no.

He thought it’d be better to model the AI after someone he liked.

But he was wrong. One of the few times he had let his emotions make his decision, and it was the worst one.

While trying to work out the kinks of the AI, it had escaped. It had knocked him unconscious for long enough that it made its way upstairs.

The girl stared at you in horror as you stood in the kitchen, knife in hand from making dinner.

You looked just as shocked to see a nude woman coming up from the basement, wires hanging from her broken arm.

She even looked oddly similar to you.

Before you could even react, she tackled you, the knife going flying.

Nathan, having heard the crash, awoke and ran upstairs.

He came up from behind and broke the AI’s skull, the body falling on top of you.

“For fucks sake. That was awf…” he trailed off once he shoved the AI’s body to the side and saw you.

Nathan didn’t know how to react seeing your bleeding body, knife sticking out from where your heart is.

There was no hospital nearby, and with how glassy your eyes looked, he knew you were doomed.

Silently, Nathan sat back on his knees and feet, just staring down at your lifeless body.

He wasn’t an emotional person, but he didn’t like how he felt at that moment.

His eyes searched yours before shifting to the dead AI woman, his creation, your killer.

Nathan’s fists reacted quicker than his brain had, and before he knew it, his hands were bloody from breaking the AI down to nothing but shards.

His feet moved to the bar, and before he knew it, he had drunk a full bottle of vodka.

His knuckles, caked in dried blood, chucked the bottle at the wall. The shatters go flying, some even hitting you…

Nathan stood over your body, once again, staring down at you. His expression unclear.

After your death, Nathan was far more careful. Adding keycards to open doors, not just simple locks.

He even kept the prototypes locked up no matter what.

And who knows, maybe your death is what got him to start drinking so much…

How idiotic…

Duke Leto Atreides - Poisoning

Leto knew the dangers of loving you, yet he still did it.

He always made his love clear, practically worshiping you in private.

Leto would risk his life and title as Duke just to care for you for forever.

He wanted to propose eventually.

But your life was taken long before he had the chance.

The Duke looked down at your slumped body, your poisoned drink spilt from where your head had fallen.

In that moment, Leto regretted never marrying you.

He loved you, but in theory, it was better to stay unmarried, open to alliances with the other Great Houses.

But this wasn’t worth it.

Your life wasn’t worth it.

Leto had to keep his composure in front of his men, but in the comfort of his room, he cried. He weeped.

His sobs shook his body as remorse and grief overwhelmed his senses.

Seeing your body in such a way, it shook him to the core.

Sure, he had experienced death before, but this was different.

He loved you, and he saw where you died, he saw you dead.

Choked sobs escaped his lips as he recounted all the moments you two shared.

He wished he could’ve kept you safe, stopped you from drinking the poison.

You were in the House of Atreides, you should have been safe.

That’s what ate at him. That you died where he swore you were protected.

You died under his care.

Why you were killed, he wasn’t sure. But he swore to find out, to avenge you.

If nothing else, he’d make sure to get you justice.

He loved you, and he messed up never marrying you.

I wish I had made you mine, my dear…

Prince John - Assassination

John, the prideful idiot, should’ve never put a bounty on Robin Hood’s head.

It only made his reputation worse.

John should’ve lowered the taxes, but he didn’t.

And now all the citizens hate him, rightfully so.

But John always had you to go back to, you to love and receive love back.

You tried to reason with John, to show him he was being unreasonable and bleeding his kingdom dry.

Yet he never listened, and he now knows the danger of not listening to the advice he gets.

You had just been going about your business, crossing through the towns when you were attacked.

What was supposed to be a simple robbery, turned to an assassination. One of Robin’s troupe mates had gone rogue; they wanted to send Prince John a message.

The message was received.

John had gotten word of what happened.

He found out about how you begged for your life.

How you cried before your body was abandoned on a wooded path.

It made him angry. It made John furious.

You didn’t deserve this. You advocated for the citizens, yet you were the one killed.

John had destroyed everything in sight upon hearing of your murder.

His guards and mother had barely been able to calm him down. But once he had come down from the rage, John broke out into sobs.

He was barely consolable, all he wanted was to fall into your arms and be comforted by you.

Just one more time, John wanted to feel you caress his scalp as you reassured your love for him.

He couldn’t believe he lost you, the only person who loved him.

In spite and pure hatred, John raised the bounty on Robin Hood and his gaggle of followers.

John wanted them alive so he could execute them on your behalf, but he’d take their dead bodies as well.

As long as they were dead, he would be content.

Robin Hood… you’ll regret this… hurting my beloved…

Santiago “Pope” Garcia - Car Accident

Santi had been through so much in life, and it made him extremely overprotective of those he loved.

He always was worried and tried to protect you.

He didn’t want to risk you getting hurt, especially in the dangerous world we live in.

So why did the world still take you from him?

Santi didn’t know how to react when he got the call from the hospital.

He initially had ignored the call, thinking it was a reminder to set up an appointment or something. But when they called again a few minutes after, the blood in his face drained.

“… died… car crash…” those were the only words his brain registered the operator saying.

His heart broke into a million pieces and he felt like he was hyperventilating.

You died..? How could you die in a crash? After everything tried to do to protect you?

The call had ended and Santi sat hunched over, crying into the palms of his hands. His breathing was erratic and uncontrollable.

If he had picked up the first time, maybe he could have made it to the hospital. Maybe he could’ve said goodbye. At least, that’s what he thought.

“I’m so sorry- oh god, no…” He murmured over and over, desperately wishing it wasn’t true.

He almost wished he was at the crash, that way he could’ve seen you one last time. But now, he’s stuck waiting for the morgue to call, waiting to confirm that it’s your body on the table.

Santi’s sobs only stopped when he passed out from exhaustion.

Why did this happen to you? Why you…

Anselm Vogelweide - Shot on Accident

Anselm was known for his erratic and random behavior. That included when he’d change his mind on a whim.

Despite his absurd actions, you cared for him, as he did you.

Anselm always kept you nearby, and everyone knew that. Even people just passing through his office knew that.

He treated you differently, he treated you better than most of his other employees.

Where he’d change his mind as he saw fit with his clients, he was very firm with his decisions regarding you.

And it didn’t go unnoticed.

So when Anselm decided to raise the price out of the blue on a client, the client was pissed.

It wasn’t unexpected that a gun was going to be pulled, but the gunshot that rang out- that was a surprise.

His men had already detained the perpetrator before Anselm realized that you’d been shot.

Your hands clutched at your bleeding heart, and your eyes quickly fell shut, your body following suit.

Disregarding his squeaking leg brace, Anselm dove to collect your body in his arms.

His eyes were wide with horror and disbelief at the sight of you dying in his arms.

The world was practically silent for him as he watched you breath your last breath.

Anselm sat there for a moment, pulling your body close to his chest in an attempt to preserve your warmth. He felt an ache in his chest when you gave no response, your body limp and spilling blood.

Anselm didn’t give himself the time to mourn or cry, instead he went cold, his heart stilling for a moment as his attention turned to the shooter.

Looking through the fogged glass lens, Anselm ordered to have your killer chained up in the basement as he carried your body to another room.

For months after your death, Anselm tortured the person who killed you.

The basement became a crime scene of horrific activities. Teeth and nail pulling, breaking bones, slicing skin, it was all incomparable to what Anselm felt the murderer deserved.

They killed his dear dove. This was the least he could do.

His disappointment was immeasurable when he found the murderer dead one morning, Anselm felt far from done torturing them.

The body was disposed of swiftly, and afterwards, Anselm visited the extravagant grave he made special for you.

It was only then, after everything, that he let himself cry over your passing.

My dove…

Llewyn Davis - Suicide

Llewyn was your friend, and the two of you always helped one another out.

He needed a couch to sleep on, you were open. You needed a drinking buddy, he was there.

You both couldn’t offer much monetarily, both just trudging through life and old habits.

But you always left the window unlocked, just for him.

Llewyn hadn’t heard from you in a while, and it had just so happened, he needed a place to stay and was in the area.

Throwing open the fire escape window, he hopped through, entering your apartment.

He called your name as he wandered around, confused where you could be so late in the day.

Yet, when he arrived at the bathroom door he paused, knocking before entering.

He instantly wished he never opened the door.

In the tub, surrounded by bloodied water, he saw you. Your face was towards the window, like you were watching the sky before you died.

The sight made him nearly hurl, but the tears made it out first.

What have you done…

Just when Llewyn thought his life couldn’t get worse, you decided to leave him just like Mike did…

Of course, he knew it wasn’t actually a choice to go against him, but it still felt like he was part of why you took your life.

And that broke his heart.

If he had just visited you or bummed at your place more often, would you still have gone through with it?

He called the police after a bit of a breakdown, and a few days later, he was alerted that your only goodbye was a note scrawled with “I’m sorry.”

Maybe the note was for him, but boy, he wished there was more.

A simple “fuck you Llewyn” would’ve been better than this…

You had always asked him to play a song, but he alway said no. He always said he was too tired, that music was his work, not something he wanted to do all the time.

You never pushed him to play for you, not like other people did. So, he never played for you.

But now, in front of your grave, Llewyn played his heart out to you. His tears bouncing off his guitar, onto the frozen ground where you’d been buried.

‘If I had wings, like Norah’s dove,

I’d fly up the river to the one I love…’

Abel Morales - Accidentally Killed During Work

Abel knew the dangers of letting his employees continue their oil deliveries and solo inspections.

So many of his employees had already been attacked, yet he still took the risk.

He just didn’t expect the attacks to get worse.

Sure, some had been threatened with a gun, hell, one was kidnapped and beaten.

But this was the first time someone actually died…

Upon hearing about your death, Abel stopped in his tracks and demanded to know what happened.

He felt like his life was falling apart the moment his wife explained what happened.

After so many troubles and hoops he’s had to go through for his company, he didn’t think he’d be losing one of his best employees as well.

You were doing a simple house call and sales pitch.

That’s all it was supposed to be.

If he had known your colleague wasn’t feeling well, he wouldn’t have sent you out to the call at all.

He never would’ve guessed you’d decide to go alone…

Abel felt guilty over your death. You died because the competition was trying to send a message, or at least that’s what he assumed.

Abel held his head high as he found out about the circumstances of your death.

Apparently, the murderers were only meant to rough you up a bit and dump you just outside city limits, in a particularly snowy area.

But as you tried to run away, one of the goons tried to shoot a warning shot to get you to stop.

The bullet hit you in the Achilles tendon.

You collapsed into the dense snow instantly, crying out in pain.

In fear of getting arrested, the shooters fled, leaving you to bleed in the snow.

You died of hypothermia. You could’ve been saved.

That’s what hurt Abel the worst.

If your killers had just tried, they could’ve brought you to the hospital. But instead, they’re now awaiting a trial and eventual imprisonment.

But because they confessed, and it was an accidental death, they would be able to have parole, they could walk free one day.

To Abel, they deserved to rot in prison forever. But he didn’t have the right to oppose the judge, not when your family had already accepted the punishment.

Abel paid for the funeral, and there he saw you for the last time.

I’m sorry this happened… I’ll take care of your family from now on. I promise…

—————————————————

Brb sobbing in the club rn…

For real though, thank you for reading!

Feel free to send over any requests/suggestions

[galvanizedfriend]

Klaroline Fanfiction Masterlist

It's been a minute since I last updated my masterlist so I decided to go ahead and start a new one. Yokan // ▪ Multi-chapters

. The Wolf Series [I, II, III and Outtakes - Incomplete] When Caroline wakes up shackled, powerless and very far away from Mystic Falls, she knows she's in serious trouble. But when a woman named Sophie Deveraux reveals the reason why she's been kidnapped and taken to New Orleans, she realizes things are far worse than she could've ever imagined.

[The Originals rewriting where Caroline is a witch and gets pregnant with Klaus' child. Seasons 1, 2 and 3 complete, season 4 coming.]

. Vice and Virtue [6/6 - Complete] As the second son of a Duke, Klaus Mikaelson has the means and all the time in the world to indulge in every manner of wild activity with very little respect for the regiment of polite society. That is until his brother decides he's had enough of his vulgar ways and gives him an ultimatum. Caroline Forbes is a young debutante in search of true love and adventure. Except her aunt wishes for her to marry a somber Viscount who's already buried three wives. When their paths cross, they realize they might yet strike a deal that could satisfy their relatives and benefit them both.

[AH Regency!AU inspired by Bridgerton and a dozen other period novels I have been reading lately.]

. Pedulum [2/2 - Complete] This is what Klaus Mikaelson knows: death isn't the end for him. From the moment he is brought into the world to his final shuddering breath, Klaus' life is pretty much the same as everyone else's. The difference lies in what happens after he dies: he goes right back to the beginning, a child in London with the memory of dozens of lives lived before. Nothing ever really changes, including the fact that no matter how hard he tries, he can never save Caroline Forbes' life for too long.

[AH/soulmates!AU with a slight magical twist. Technically a one-shot, chapter 2 is just an alternate ending.]

. We'll Always Have New Orleans [3/15 - Incomplete] Caroline wakes up in a world where everything looks exactly the same, only nothing really is. For starters, she's no longer a vampire, and no one else in Mystic Falls has ever heard of witches, vampires or werewolves - no one except for Klaus, who woke up just as human and twice as angry about it. Their search for answers and a way out takes them all the way to New Orleans, and Caroline could never anticipate how much this crazy fake world was about to alter her reality forever.

[Canon-divergence!AU. Set right after TVD 4x18.]

. Speed Dating [3/4 - Incomplete] Klaus is having a bad month, so Caroline decides it's a great idea to drag him along to a round of Speed Dating. Other men in the room do not approve.

AH/AU fluff that was inspired by an episode of House (yes, it is fluff, I promise).

. Gasoline [2/2 - Complete] "He doesn't apologize, of course he doesn't. He doesn't care. He calls everyone love. It's not meant to mean anything. Except it did, once, and it makes Caroline's stomach churn away inside, as she feels Klaus crawling underneath her skin like he never left at all. I've still got you."

AH/Band!AU. Two years after Klaus walked out on his band - on her -, Caroline finds herself in her least favorite place on earth - New Orleans. She really did try to stay away from him, escaping an event just to keep off his radar. He finds her anyway.

. Like It's Christmas Again [2/2 - Complete] As Christmas approaches, Caroline Forbes, a New York-based event planner, is sent to a quaint small town in Virginia to organize their holiday festival. But her plans are momentarily hindered by the presence of Klaus Mikaelson, the Mayor's brother and a grumpy billionaire lacking in any holiday spirit, who's in town to close the sale of his family's manor - the charming estate she was hoping to use as a venue.

[AKA that time when I committed Christmas fic. AU/AH inspired by a Hallmark movie, I kid you not.]

. Spin [5/5 - Complete] Since she was seven years old, Caroline Forbes has been preparing herself to become President of the United States. But before she gets to the Oval Office, she needs to win the election for senior student president at the prestigious Saint Sebastian High - which would be in the bag if only goddamn Klaus Mikaelson hadn't decided to run against her.

[AH/AU lovers-to rivals-to-lovers The Politician!AU where everyone takes school elections way more seriously than they should.]

. How Far I'd Go [2/2 - Complete for now] Set in TVD S6/TO S2. Unable to control Caroline after she turns her humanity off, Stefan reaches out to the only person he can think of for help.

[Slices of moments of Klaus in Mystic Falls while Caroline has her humanity off.] ▪ One-shots

. The Sound of Settling Klaus hates his job at Mikaelson & Sons. He hates wearing a suit. He also hates his brothers constantly butting into his life. Everything will be better once he gets his much desired transfer to the New York branch. Caroline Forbes is the owner of Mystic Café, and when Klaus accidentally wanders into her coffee shop, his whole perspective changes. [AH/Coffee Shop!AU where Klaus is a lawyer. Fluffity Fluff. Lots of Mikaelsons and some Carenzo friendship.] . The Witch Queen Caroline always knew she was different. She was keyed into her own otherness very early on. Strange things happened around the Forbes women. Her mother never really had to spell it out to her, give it a name. Caroline could always sort of feel it, and then at some point the feeling blossomed into comprehension, and comprehension hardened into fact. And with that came an altogether different kind of certainty: this was not a secret she'd be able to keep forever. One day, no matter how hard she tried to hide it, everyone would find out. And when they did, they would come for her.

. Worst Things Have Happened Klaus Mikaelson is a prince with a very dark secret that threatens to destroy his family's legacy. Caroline Forbes is a sorceress whose job is to make sure his secret remains buried. But would it hurt him to put some clothes on? [Royal!AU, with a magical twist.] . The Unexpected Grace of Falling Apart The whole incident was bound to go down as a funny anecdote to be shared among friends, a Oh, you think you've had the worst hook-up ever? Hold my beer kind of story. Provided, of course, that she never had to see him ever and could just wipe him out of her life and memory for good. Given that they live in different time zones, it shouldn't be too much of a hassle.

That is precisely why Caroline is livid when she emerges from the arrivals area at Richmond airport to find Douchebag, in the flesh - sunglasses indoors and all, like the proper jerk that he is - holding up a sign that readsClarisse.

[AH/AU. It's Tyler's wedding weekend and Caroline is back in Mystic Falls for the first time after the most traumatic and depressing year of her life. And it's about to get even worse as she's made to share breathing space with Klaus, The Worst Guy Ever. Except they might have to join forces to save the wedding, and to the discovery that things might not be what the seem. As Caroline teeters on the edge of a breakdown she'd been trying very hard to conceal, an unexpected savior appears to help her through the haze.]

. love, the monster's got me now [Canon compliant. Set in TVD S03E09 Homecoming.]

"Don't run," he says calmly, sounding almost bored, but with a clear warning. "I'm in the mood for a chase. Little spoiler: you can't outrun me." His eyebrows twitch up when he finally turns around to face her, lips curling into an amused grin. "Tyler's girl," he states, gesturing towards the now empty yard. "You missed out on the celebrations, I’m afraid."

[Or: the missing Klaroline scene between "There's your pretty little girlfriend, Caroline" and "There's a whole world out there waiting for you." Klaus and Caroline meet after Homecoming.]

. When It's Gone Suddenly, Caroline hates how nice the bed feels. How soft the pillows are. How smooth and cool and expensive those goddamn sheets are against her skin. She hates the giddiness in her belly, like she's a stupid schoolgirl when she's not allowed to be one anymore. She hates how right the space between Klaus' arms felt, how easily she molded against him. His lips were as full and as soft as they looked, but his hands were gentler and more reverent than they had any right to be, and Caroline hates it. Hates it, hates it, hates it. She hates that it suits her, hates that she wants it, hates that none of it is hers to keep.

[Set after TVD S04E19 Pictures of You. Caroline hears about Klaus' impending departure after a mysterious letter and decides to have some words.] . Wishing Each Sigh Might Be the Last The first time she sees him, Caroline thinks he's an angel.

[Set in 1800s New Orleans. As Caroline lies dying, she prays for God to send help or end her torment and save her soul. She thinks an angel has come for her. But he's no angel at all.] . Feel the Madness Closing In Set in TO S3. Caroline is in New Orleans when Lucien and the Ancestors make a move against the Mikaelson family - and they know exactly who to target in order to get to Klaus. Paranoia sets in, sending him to a very dark place, and Caroline finally learns the price of being loved so profoundly by a monster. . Issues When Klaus' Hollywood career takes a down turn after a nasty divorce and a viral mug shot, his manager decides his life is not yet miserable enough, bringing in a PR company famous for its high-profile damage control cases.

[AH!AU where Klaus is a problematic movie star and Caroline is a PR agent with no time for his BS.] . Urban Legend "I hate myself for saying this, but I have to agree with Little Miss Sunshine," Caroline cuts in. "This is Whitmore. Nothing ever happens here. Least of all a possession that leads to a massacre of slasher movie proportions."

"Thank you, love," Klaus returns brightly. "Very flattering to be validated by you."

"Bite me, Klaus."

"Find me later, after my shift, and we can see to it," comes the shameless rejoinder.

[Or: Caroline tries to navigate life in college having the worst roommate ever, a douchebag who cannot take a hint and a nosy journalist whom she's definitely not attracted to. Never in a million years.]

[isabelleneville]

♕ @dailytudors TUDOR WEEK 2024 ♕

Day Three: Best Tudor What If >> 2/2 - HENRY FITZROY LIVES

Henry, Duke of Richmond, the beloved first son of Henry VIII born out of wedlock survives his sickness of 1536. Henry was made a possible heir to his father by the 1536 Successions Act until the birth of a child by his third stepmother Jane Seymour who had recently married his father.

During this time Fitzroy consummates his marriage with his wife Mary the daughter of the Duke of Norfolk. They later had four children, three sons one named after himself and his beloved father, one after St. George and one after his wife's father Thomas, and, a daughter named after his wife and beloved sister Mary, the latter stood as godmother to the younger Mary.

In 1537, his beloved brother, the future Edward VI is born, however Fitzroy's stepmother Jane only survives the birth by a few days. During the official mourning period Fitzroy provides a strong support to his father during his grief and emerges in court as one of the possible leading figures.

Henry then lived through his father marrying another two women, one ending in divorce and the other in execution, the latter being the cousin of his wife, but, during the time of this marriage, Fitzroy was abroad as he was the ambassador to France as he had been educated in the court of Francis I and was close friends with the Dauphin.

Once recalled from France after his father's disastrous fifth marriage he became a prominent figure in court after many leading courtiers left places vacant after being executed by his father (the gaping hole Thomas Cromwell left was widely felt even by his enemies). In this time he starts to take part in the council and education of his brother Edward with his father and appoints a few of his tutors.

In 1543 he was in attendance for his father's last marriage to Catherine Parr who is only six years his senior and was the sister of his close friend Thomas. During this time not only does Catherine bring his youngest sister Elizabeth back into the fold she also further nurtures Henry VIII's relationship with all his children and now grandchildren. Mary Fitzroy, Duchess of Richmond becomes a close confidant and part of the Queen's inner circle and the fourth lady of the court after her step-mother-in-law and sisters-in-law and even outranking the ex-Queen Anne of Cleves now known as the Kings Sister solidifying Henry Fitzroy as a possible heir after his own brother, debatably in front of his sisters.

During 1544 Henry accompanied his father on a campaign which later became known Battle of Boulogne where he learnt warfare and matters of the military.

In 1547 his beloved and larger-than-life father died, leaving his brother Edward VI a young King in his minority. Richmond's careful years of tutelage in the ever-changing court of his father proved to be a well-earned place in the council of his brother while he provided a much-needed balance between his brother's maternal family the Seymours, the rising faction of the protestants and the well-known conservative faction which included his sister Mary. During this time Henry became the leading figure of court and council and the well-accepted heir of his brother as he was the senior male.

Henry having strong links to France secured an advantageous marriage for his brother to Princess Elizabeth of France the daughter of his longtime friend which proved fruitful. It is debated that during the earlier days of his reign after his minority - before Queen Elizabeth had sons - Edward considered bestowing the title of the Duke of York on his brother.

Henry oversaw the marriages of his sons to daughters of the Seymour, Howard and Grey families and the marriage of his much-loved daughter Mary - who is said to be his favourite child - off to a son of John Dudley (Mary then ended up being a sister-in-law in marriage to her Tudor Aunt Elizabeth who had married one of John's other sons Robert).

Henry died strong in his position as the most prominent man at court after his brother, the King, having seen through and guided him in his minority. He was survived by his wife and four children.

[hotmusketeerspoll]

Here stand the current entrants for the Magnificent Musketeer Tournament - updated

Submissions are still open, so if one of your favourite characters isn't here yet, make sure you send them in.

Also, if there's a character already here that you have strong feelings about, you can submit them yourself!

Quite a few characters have no text propaganda or photos, here's a list of those that need some help.

On to the list!

All contestants are listed chronologically, from oldest to newest

D’Artagnan

Douglas Fairbanks

Max Linder (Dart-In-Again)

Gene Kelly

Jean-Paul Belmondo

Jean-Pierre Cassel

Jeremy Brett

Michael York

Jean Valmont

Chris O’Donnell

Gabriel Byrne

Hugh Dancy

Logan Lerman

Luke Pasqualino

Tamaki Ryou

Malachi Pullar-Latchman

François Civil

Athos

Oliver Reed

Kiefer Sutherland

John Malkovich

Matthew Macfadyen

Tom Burke

Uzuki Hayate

Vincent Cassel

Aramis

Richard Chamberlain

Igor Starygin

Charlie Sheen

Jeremy Irons

Luke Evans

Santiago Cabrera

Miya Rurika

Romain Duris

Porthos

Brian Blessed

Frank Finlay

Oliver Platt

Gerard Depardieu

Ray Stevenson

Howard Charles 

Pio Marmaï

Milady

Lana Turner

Faye Dunaway

Margarita Terekhova

Rebecca de Mornay

Milla Jovovich

Maimie McCoy

Mollie Hindle

Preeya Kalidas

Eva Green

Constance

Marguerite de la Motte

June Allyson

Raquel Welch

Julie Delpy

Gabriella Wilde

Tamla Kari

Lyna Khoudri

Richelieu

Nigel de Brulier

Vincent Price

Charlton Heston

Bernard Haller

Aleksandr Trofimov

Tim Curry

Christoph Waltz

Peter Capaldi

Rochefort

Guy Delorme

Christopher Lee

Boris Klyuev

Michael Wincott

Mads Mikkelsen

Marc Warren

Anne of Austria

Angela Lansbury

Geraldine Chaplin

Catherine Jourdan

Gabrielle Anwar

Anne Paurillard

Sheena Easton

Juno Temple

Alexandra Dowling

Vicky Krieps

King Louis XIII

Hugh O’Conor

Ryan Gage

Louis Garrel

Treville

Hugo Speer

Marc Barbé

Duke of Buckingham

Simon Ward

Orlando Bloom

Jacob Fortune-Lloyd

Planchet

Roy Kinnear

James Corden

Grimaud

William Phillips

Matthew McNulty

Jussac

Ángel del Pozo

Felton

Michael Gothard

Madame Chevreuse

Sophie Craig

Madame Coquenard

Jennifer Matter

Louis XIV

Louis Hayward

Richard Chamberlain

Leonardo DiCaprio

Robert Sheehan

Phillppe

Louis Hayward

Richard Chamberlain

Leonardo DiCaprio

Maria Theresa

Joan Bennett

Vivien Merchant

Kristina Krepela

Cardinal Mazarin

Gigi Proietti

Gerard Depardieu

Michael Ironside

Raoul

C. Thomas Howell

Peter Sarsgaard

Lousie de la Valliere

Jenny Agutter

Mordaunt

Michael Gothard

Kim Cattrall (Justine de Winter)

[doorp]

What started out as theories abt when the main cast died but got silly

Annabel + Lenore ✨

This one is pretty straightforward, there’s these Barbie movie redraws flynn did that shows Annabel and Lenore being caught by “NMPD nevermore police department” , with the year 1901 in the corner, implying that’s when they died and got sent to nevermore

This little 1901 in the corner is interesting on like a meta level to me bc 1. in the original Barbie meme theres no date on the slate thingies, so flynn decided to add that piece of info on her own, and 2. this was just after episode 67 came out (on fp I think) and uh little tidbit, before that episode there was a theory that Theo died in like the 1860s or something based on the logo in the newspaper abt his death, the ny daily tribune, and after episode 67 came out and ira mentioned a ship that wasn’t available for public use until 1899 on the discord we were trying to do mental gymnastics to make the 2 dates work but then red came on like “please we accidentally grabbed the wrong logo it’s meant to read new York tribune not New York daily tribune its fixed now we fixed it please” and then a few days later they streamed doing this piece

Anyway, ira talks about the oceanic, which was “the finest ocean liner in the world” the *largest ocean liner in the world* until 1901

The RMS oceanic had its maiden voyage in September of 1899, at the beginning of fall. Annabel says she arrived in New York a fortnight before meeting Lenore, presumably during the spring. Annabel arrives at lenores house in april/may of 1900, spends six months there, and then leaves around the fall, probably somewhere around September or October. Lenore then spends a few months doing her thing and then arrives at her family’s home in either December 1900 or January 1901, during the winter. HERES where it gets interesting. We can assume that Annabel died in the cold, from her spectres chilling atmosphere and all together appearance of corpse in a freezer. She even has frostbite on her fingers and toes, as well as snowflake like glitter in her veil. We can also assume she died on her wedding day, the way she wears her rings on different hands and her wedding dress in spectre form. So if she died in the cold and on her wedding day, then when was her wedding, and how could it be in winter?

heres my 2 theories

1. Lenore beats Annabel at chess just for funsies fairly quickly after arriving, then they try to elope and get caught by their dads

2. Lenore courts Annabel, wins her hand, and they get engaged. Since engagements usually lasted around 6 months to 2 years, their engagement could have been anywhere from however long it takes Lenore to win at chess to December 1901. If their wedding day was in November/December, that means Lenore got away with pretending to be a man for a whole YEAR and they spent that year just being gay and shit/doing schemes.

I personally like option 2 more bc its just sadder that they did get away w it for a while then ultimately got caught - it would also explain why Annabel is just SO into Lenore, if all she remembers is that year they spent being all sneaky and gay and shit, it would explain how she’s just used to flirting and holding onto Lenore in secret. It would also explain why Annabel assumes Lenore is up to scheming at nevermore. if they eloped a few weeks after they reunited it would still be like yeah that makes sense they are such u haul lesbians, but them becoming sneaky codependent gays ripped from each other on their wedding day just hurts more and makes more sense time/character wise

Duke - 1912, maybe even 1912 specifically, idk

Duke has a coin that’s dated to 1912, and Eulalie says it looks brand new. There’s been arguments about wether or not the coin is actually newly minted, but I don’t think we can say for sure. It might not matter either way- I have a theory that the suit cases the students carry aren’t actually random personal items of interest, but a suitcase they packed right before a pivotal event in their lives. Perhaps Duke does have newly minted coins in his suitcase, but he didn’t actually die in 1912. Also! Duke is implied to be a Houdini like figure, so I imagine he’s not later than the 20s.

Pluto - 1914 ish

Plutos spectre wears a British ww1 military uniform, its debated wether or not the jacket was his dads or his, but regardless he couldn’t have died earlier than 1914. Pluto is named after the cat in the short story called The Black Cat by Edgar Allan poe. In the story a cat named Pluto gets its eye slashed out by its drunken owner, eventually getting hung from a tree by the man. Theres obvious references to the story in Plutos design and shit overall, when he manifests a belt snaps around his neck implying he died from strangulation, his spectre has like, a pluming collar/leash of smoke around its neck, his spectre looks like it’s made of ash kinda (someone described him as a burnt rabbit to me once) which is probably a reference to the part in the story where the man’s house burns down, only 1 wall remaining erect, with the image of a black cat scorched into it. Plutos eye is covered by his hair, he walks into a door frame, he’s got spectre abilities called “blink” and “evil eye” so w Pluto until we get more info it’s no earlier than 1914 if you subscribe to the Pluto went to war theory or no earlier than like, say the 20s? if you subscribe to the Plutos dad was a vet theory

Berenice - 1920s

Shes a flapper, cmon. shes from the 1920s. Look at her. We already know she was run over by a cop car after running from some guy, and I tried to look into where the cop car was from but i didn’t have much luck. mostly just confirmed the era, when I searched cop cars of the 1920s pretty similar images to the one that killed bee show up. A few others I think have looked into it more? but im not completely sure. There’s been a lot of theories about where Berenice is from, I’ve seen Louisiana, Chicago, Harlem (Harlem renaissance specifically) but there’s not a lot of conclusive info about Berenice. we know her pearls were real, in the way they scattered, so she had so have some means of affording them. Pearls are held together on a string, but only real pearls have pieces of metal between the pearls to keep them from rubbing against each other. Bees pearls scatter in long strings, not completely all over the place like fake pearls without that structure would.

Eulalie - 1935

The song Eula sings in her death flashback is a Japanese lullaby that was rediscovered in 1935. Its a popular theory that Eulalies death was a hate crime, a fire started because of hate towards Japanese Americans during ww2. She probably died in the forties in america, I don’t think she died in Hiroshima or Nagasaki, the fire that killed her isnt how atomic bombs would have killed her. The kid she sings to asks if someone started the fire on purpose, so imo it was likely a hate crime.

Morella - 1950s - 70s??

Okay so, Morella. we know the least about her. with will we can guess that he was lower class and stuff, but all we know abt Morella is that she’s Irish. Shepards pie and Guinness is pretty timeless. The reason I say 50s to 70s is bc according to Remigoesinsane the clasp to her locket started to be used around that time! that’s all I have on her tbh, a theory of mine is that she died in a factory accident trying to save someone when the machinery went crazy, but that’s mostly it.

Ada - 1930s

Ada’s clothes in her death flashback match those worn by maids in the 1930s, and the lingerie she wears in the manor also matches lingerie worn in the 30s. It would also make sense for Ada’s character to be from the 30s. That decade was called the “somber thirties” bc of how fucked up the economy was after the stock market crash. It was a major time of economic disparity, and Ada’s obsession with trying to seem upper class elite could stem from not having much when she died. She probably sees nevermore as a blank slate, a place where people will see her as more than just “the help” would also make sense that the man that killed her was a rich guy using his power to take advantage of her and get away with the crime. Especially since the poem, Tamerlane, was from the pov of a rich guy lamenting a relationship he had with a lower class girl named Ada.

Prospero ✨

PROSPERO! prospero drinks espresso with his chosen last meal, which was invented in 1901. I think he died from tuberculosis. For a long time a major cause of death has been tuberculosis. So much so that Victorians made it a beauty standard. A major inspiration of Poe himself was tuberculosis, in the masque of red death, along with the grief he was left with after his wife died from it. It rots your lungs, makes you cough up your bloodied respiratory system until you suffocate in it. In the maze, prospero says he felt queasy, like something was crawling under his skin when he died. When prospero cuts his hand, he says he’s going to be sick, and tells Annabel that he’s afraid of blood. (Probably specifically his own blood bc u know he was feeding people to rats like minutes before that) This, coupled with the imagery of blood pouring out from his plague mask when he says the “queasy, like something was crawling under my skin” line, makes me think his death involved a lot of blood! And as I said before tuberculosis was like really gross and bloody and gory. Furthermore, this quote from the writer is SO interesting

In the poem prosperos namesake is in, the masque of red death, the prince prospero, hiding and ignoring a sickness ravaging his country, decides to host a huge party! Everyone’s having a grand old time, the festivities only pausing when the clock strikes, leaving everyone in a dread filled silence, the party picking up almost immediately after and brushing it off. Eventually the plague does get in though and kill them all because they ignored the feeling of dread.

The prince and the party goers die because the prince is blissfully and willfully ignorant of the disease. Bc their hubris didn’t allow them to see the threat of it. Nevermores prospero, however, is obsessed with staying healthy/hygienic as possible. He wears his gloves even when he eats, hates being touched, almost throws up when he cuts his hand. He hallucinates a thousand dirty hands grabbing him and trying to perform an operation on him with disgusting germy tools. He sees the hand he cut amputated, imagining that the wound got so infected that it had to be removed. He stares in horror at his hand before Ada even makes eye contact with him. My theory is Prospero grew up hearing terrible stories of people dying from infection, disease. He heard of people slowly drowning in their own blood. He decided to take every precaution, he simply wouldn’t allow that to be his fate. After Ada attacks him he tells Annabel “you must think me neurotic” for being so upset over the blood on his hand. This feels, so specific and intentional to me. Not just because Annabel dealt with her anxiety and her dad treating her panic attacks like he did, and this is a whole “omg look they’re bonding” moment, but bc, immediately after he tries to assure her that “im not, you know, im perfectly sane” like shit like this has happened before, where ppl called him neurotic for being that sick at the sight of his own blood, or that obsessed with hygiene. The irony being that, he spent his life obsessing over staying healthy, so much so that people called him neurotic, only to die that slow gory death anyway.

That whole, prospero dying from tb tangent aside tho, how it correlates to the time of his death. He probably died in the early 1900s, the earliest being 1901-1906ish, bc again, that’s when espresso started gaining popularity. My guess is he died around the 20s, ik the tb vaccine came out around the 20s, but people still died of it after and are still dying/contracting it today, and in the 20s there were a lot of Italians emigrating to America, and prospero is so aggressively Italian American (eating espresso and cannoli with chocolate chips for his last meal) that it’d make sense. So woo!

Monty - 1910s

Monty is a cowwwwboyyyyyy. The Wild West pretty much tapered out around the early 1900s. He can’t be that recent. He also mentions calamity Jane so that definitely puts him past the 1800s. He seemed to have a pretty wild life, kicked in the head by a horse, tooth knocked out by a human, tied to train tracks and left for dead after calling the pastors daughter loose. crazy guy crazy time

Will ???

Will is so plain i cannot get a read on where hes from im sorry

obligatory thank you for making it to the end, I barely made it myself, this was sitting in my drafts for weeks before I decided to just get it over with. <<333

[the-man-in-the-suit-official]

Strange Mercy.

Summary: After hooking up with Harry occasionally, you fall pregnant. The real problem starts when he begins touring, and no matter what, you can never seem to make it past fans - or even the guards in order to tell him.

A/N: (D/N) = Daughter’s Name

Reader Pronouns: She/Her

Length: Medium

TW: Cheating, Single Pregnancy, Violence While Pregnant (Slight), Hookup, Angst (Fluff at the end)

Celebrities: Harry E. Styles

Song(s) To Listen To: Strange Mercy - St. Vincent

You met him at a party. You had been a groupie of some lowly band, really just because you liked their music, but since then, their guitarist had taken a liking to you. You had hoped this meant you were his girlfriend, and yeah, he’d sleep with you and take you on ‘dates,’ but he’d do this with other women, too.

Truthfully, Harry wasn’t even supposed to be there. The party was in New York, close to the building that happened to be throwing an after party for an awards ceremony. So when he saw you smoking a cigarette outside the building, watching the dirty guitarist flirt with a few girls to the left of you, he approached you.

“Erm,” He began, shifting your attention.

He was dressed rather lavishly, but casual for the party. He wore a floral Gucci button up shirt and dress pants with Gucci shoes. The Apple Watch against his wrist read, “You’ve Arrived!”

“Is this The Louvat? It doesn’t really look like it…” His accent was thick, rolling off his tongue slowly.

Taking another drag, you chuckled a bit, “No, this is Lamar, the bar a bunch of shitty bands play at? You must have mistyped it.”

You looked back at your ‘boyfriend,’ watching as he slid a hand up one of the girls’ waist. You settled into your fluffy coat a bit more.

“Here,” You took his phone and typed in the right thing, “So you don’t miss it.”

Harry blinked. It was odd not to be noticed, but he wasn’t complaining, and eased into it, “Thank you.”

“The Louvat, how’d you miss that?” Another chuckle escaped your lips, “Hasn’t it got paparazzi littering the place?”

Furrowing your brows, squinting and pressing your lips into a thin line, you asked, “Are you famous?”

This time, it was his turn to chuckle nervously, “Eh,” He shrugged.

You softened your face a bit, glancing at Luke, the guitarist, who now was caught up wrestling tongues with a different girl. You looked down, “Well, you should probably get going, huh?”

You flicked your cigarette to the side, and he noticed the man you were looking at.

Dipping his eyebrows in worry, something came over him, “Would you like to come with me? Completely free. You just, I don’t think you really belong here, is all.”

A pink dusted your cheeks, and you couldn’t help but blame it on the cold Fall air.

“I…” You looked toward Luke, but the stranger stepped closer, gently turning your head toward him by the chin.

“Think of yourself, alright?”

Those sea green eyes could have controlled you. Suddenly, it wasn’t chilly. It was warm, stemming from your heart.

“Aright,” You responded softly, “I’d love to go.”

To be honest, he could have been a kidnapper or a killer, but could one have such sweet eyes? And to be fair, you’d rather be anywhere but here.

He smiled at you softly, “Well, I’m quite early since I had a feeling I’d get lost. Let’s get you something to wear, yeah?”

You’d been dressed the opposite of him - wearing a sleazy coat lined with faux fur zipped right as low as it could be without showing too much cleavage, Daisy Dukes, and a pair of tennis shoes. All to impress some boy that didn’t seem to want you anyway.

You’d felt hot earlier, but in the presence of this stranger and his enchanting eyes, you melted with embarrassment.

“That would be great,” You sighed with a smile, “Someone told me to wear this here, and now he’s off flirting with someone else.”

“I see,” Harry began, “Then you need to choose what you like…” He trailed off.

“(Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N),” You took a hand out of your pocket and held it out, but he kissed it instead.

“Harry Styles. Nice to meet you, (Y/N).”

Luke caught a glimpse of you leaving with your handsome stranger, angrily shouting after you, but you flipped him off and laughed as the car strolled on, turning back to Harry soon after.

Harry had found himself enchanted by your laugh. You were gorgeous in the face of revenge.

And that’s where it began. You’d become good friends since then, and when you made your ‘debut’ accompanying him, you’d been dressed in lavish branded clothes, from your dress to your heels to your accessories.

You owed him a lot, really, but working as a waitress really sucked. You didn’t get paid much, unless some guy had taken a liking to you and you flirted back a bit.

But now, every attractive guy seemed less and less so, even when your coworker, Emma, seemed to gleam the handsome men. Harry, though, seemed more beautiful by the minute.

“I still can’t believe your friends with him,” Emma sighed, obviously envious, “And that you didn’t know who he was!”

She had begged you so many times to get him to meet her, and you refused, knowing her and her…tendencies. Not that you disapproved, you just wanted to keep Harry safe. Safe. What a weird way to put it.

Your shift had just ended and Emma was on break, though you weren’t even listening as you fixed your makeup and waited for your ride.

He came strolling in soon after, curls gorgeously bouncing with his steps, smiling from ear to ear when he caught a look at you.

“(Y/N)!”

The diner was nearly empty now, so he noted he could make a quick entrance and exit.

“H!” You smiled and ran toward him, hugging the taller man, “You all packed up?”

He nodded, hugging you back, “Yeah, but you call me if that Luke is giving you anymore trouble, alright?”

You nodded, starry-eyed and so obviously enamored, “Thank you.”

It was Harry’s yacht party when it happened. The both of you were as sober as can be. You had admitted (hesitantly, of course) that you were afraid of the water, and Harry, without the bat of an eye, decided that he would watch over you and drink nothing for the night.

Ultimately, you felt bad, but noted that he seemed to be having as much fun at his going-away party as he would under the influence.

“(Y/N),” He started, once he managed to come away from the crowd of celebrities you still couldn’t process were actually there, “I rented the yacht out for the night. After the party, you wanna take it around?”

Your heart leaped at the opportunity to have Harry alone, and you nodded, “That sounds great!”

And when the time finally came and the last person left, he turned to you with a huge smile.

Who would have thought that you’d be here, with the most handsome man you’d ever seen? He had a goofy smile and eyes that glittered, the ocean reflecting on them.

He was perfect.

“There are some pretty things out here,” He had spoken, excitement bleeding into his voice, “I wanted to show you.”

You were quite surprised that he even knew how to drive a boat, but you felt safe with him either way as he steered it through the night.

And there you sat together, staring at the stars that seemed so much clearer out in the open. His hand found the small of your back quickly but softly, and he smiled into the night sky.

“All of those guys forget that we’re just humans. We’re nothing compared to the stars,” He spoke, not even turning to you.

You hummed happily, not even noticing when he did face you, “Except you, (Y/N).”

You met his eyes in confusion, raising a brow before he continued, “I’ve never met anyone like you.”

You smiled bashfully, looking down, “Ah…I’m not that special, H.”

“But you are,” He scooted closer, “I…I knew from the moment we met that there was something different about you.”

Your eyes glimmered when they met with his again, your heart skipping a beat as the salty ocean air nipped your cheeks, “That means the world to me.”

Cupping your face in his hands, he inched your faces closer, “(Y/N)…would you let me love you this once? Before the tour starts again.”

Your face flushed red. And suddenly it made sense. Harry had felt something for you since you met, only he decided not to pursue anything after your breakup, and when you explained to him just how much relationships scared you since Luke. He figured that if dating a minor celebrity hurt you that much, then dating him would only be worse.

But he’d be leaving soon. And you’d miss him so, so much.

You nodded softly, lips parted before his met yours.

The butterflies began to fight their way out of your stomach, even as the kiss grew in intensity, and when he hoisted your legs around his waist, carrying you to the bed downstairs.

There wasn’t much thought for either of you, as he looked down at you, straddling you, “And you’re sure…you want to do this?”

“Yes,” You replied quicker than you meant to, “Yes, I’m sure.”

He was going to say something, but was only surprised when you pulled him by his collar and kissed him deeply.

-

The gentle beams of bright ocean light woke you, and you found yourself covered from your chest down to your thighs in a thick white comforter that felt like the softest thing in the world.

When you turned, you were met with an empty bed, making your heart sink. You’d trusted Harry dearly, would he just leave like Luke would?

You felt your mood begin to sour, that was, until you heard soft singing from above, and smelt blueberry pancakes, your favorite from the diner.

It was Harry, you would come to recognize, and your frown morphed into a wide smile. Once you were able to find the complimentary robe, you slipped it on, noticing it said, ‘Mrs.’

You giggled, figuring Harry had the matching one.

“Good morning, my sweet creature,” He set a plate down on the bar table for you, and another for himself, “How’d you sleep?”

You sat down and began to eat, thanking him before doing so, “Quite lovely, prince of pop.”

He exhaled a laugh, tying the robe around him once more, seeing as it was coming loose.

Part of you hurt, because you knew that you still weren’t quite ready - Like had messed you up terribly, and though Harry made you feel safe, there was still a block.

“Hey,” Harry’s hand met yours as you chewed your food, “I promise this doesn’t change anything. We can remain friends until you’re ready to decide, alright?”

You smiled sentimentally, overwhelmed with his understanding of you, “Thank you, H.”

He kissed your hand gently, and the two of you finished breakfast in peace.

He left less than a week later, taking your source of light with him. You wouldn’t be able to have him back at your house for almost a year, and though you could still visit, it would be hard.

It started with small things. About a month after he left, you began to wake up in the middle of the night more often, restless. Your chest became sore, no matter what, scaring you since your mind jumped straight to the idea of cancer.

It wasn’t until you sat on the toilet after spilling up last night’s dinner that you realized.

You were late.

And the theory became fact as you held onto the two pregnancy tests later that day, hand shaking in fear.

You were happy, of course, but you were anything but ready. Neither of you were.

The rest of the night, you were pacing, trying hard not to freak out in your small, bummy apartment, to no avail.

That night was more restless than the ones before it, and at 4:36 in the morning, you finally decided to tell Harry.

ME: We need to talk. Call me.

And just as quickly as it was sent, there was a reply.

HARRY: Due to insufficient funds, your service has been shut off until further notice. If you think that this is a mistake, or you would like to make a payment, please click the link below.

What awful timing.

It had come between either the phone bill or the rent this month, and you’d decided that you quite enjoyed shelter, but now you regretted it.

There was your friends you could meet in the morning, but Harry would never answer a message from an unknown number, especially one claiming such shocking things.

And who could you even talk to about this? Your family hardly spoke to you, ever since they found out you’d dated Luke, and this would only drive them away further, using their religion as a scapegoat for their pushing you away.

So you’d have to track him down. How hard could it be?

You saved for about three months, finally getting enough money for a plane ticket to meet Harry again, and though you couldn’t afford the concert ticket, you did your best efforts to come up with a plan.

As you idly watched the clock tick by, you prepared yourself for what was to come. Fan girls. Guards. Flashing lights. Nauseating smells.

And then you packed your bag and were on your way. Sneaking in was pretty easy, actually, especially when you recognized one of the guards as the one who drove the two of you to the party that fateful night.

The hard part was getting backstage during his intermission.

You had made it through, but now here was this giant man hassling you. He was buff, standing at at least 6’4”, and looking down at you through his sunglasses. You couldn’t have been farther apart.

“Hey, miss. You’re not allowed back here,” He raised a brow, stepping in front of you again, “I won’t say it again.”

You shook your head, “How many times do I have to tell you? I’m a friend of Harry’s, and I really, really need to tell him something important!”

You pushed forward, trying to reach the bright vanity, but the man pushed back with his hands. Instinctively, you grabbed your belly as you fell, landing on your side, a forearm holding you up.

“Hey! I’m fucking pregnant! What the hell?!”

He didn’t seem to care, hoisting you up by the arm on your belly, to your feet. The grip hurt, and you closed your eyes tightly, “I don’t care. I’m doing my job. It’s your fault if the baby dies because of you, you sick whore.”

He had obviously been frustrated, you’d noticed, and maybe he was right. Who were you to sleep around with Harry? Or with Luke? With anyone? What good did it do you but bring you here?

Tears started to sting your eyes, but all you could mutter was, “You’re stupid.”

He tossed you on the ground again, and you landed like before, not even meeting his eyes.

“Very bold of you to s-“ He began, but suddenly froze cold at a voice.

“(Y/N)? Bryan? What the hell are you doing?!” It was the fastest you’d ever heard him speak.

Bryan, you guessed, turned, his mouth agape, “A trespasser.”

“That’s my friend, you idiot! And any man who treats anyone like that shouldn’t be here in the first place!” Harry was now in his face, not even noticing your bump, “You’re fired!”

He looked over to you and his eyes widened in a second, “Oh my god. (Y/N)…you’re pregnant.”

“Really?” You chuckled sarcastically, a bit annoyed at the man as Harry helped you up, “I almost wasn’t when he kept rag-dolling me everywhere.

“Fucking leave,” He turned to the man, venom seething through his words, and when he did so, escorted by other guards, Harry turned back to you.

“I’m so sorry, love. I’ll make sure he’ll never be near us again,” He looked down at the bump, a bittersweet smile on his face, “Was it Luke?”

You felt safe with him, like usual, and you felt butterflies begin to swarm your insides.

“God, no,” You paused, looking down before meeting his eyes, “It’s yours.”

He froze completely, and you panicked, “But…I don’t mind raising it on my own, Harry. You’re a pop star and I knew what I was getting into, plus you’ll be busy. We can keep it a secret a-“

“No,” He spoke sternly yet softly, his hands holding yours as he smiled down at you, “No.”

“I don’t think there’s anyone else I’d want to have my kid,” He chuckled, “I would tell you you have pregnancy glow, but you always look that good.”

He was practically beaming, “God, I’m going to be a father! I can’t believe it! Thank you, thank you,” He hugged you tightly before pulling away, looking as if he realized something grim, “But, erm…if you want to raise it separately and as friends, that’s okay.”

You smiled solemnly, admiring just how stupid this boy was, quickly pulling him by his collar and smashing your lips on his.

When you pulled away, he blinked for a few seconds, “Did I get my point across?”

He nodded, smiling like an idiot.

“Then go out there and focus on your fans, okay? I’ll be in the private booths.”

The night, you thought, couldn’t have ended more wonderfully, but that’s when you were proven wrong. He stood on stage, finishing the previous song, Grapejuice, when he abruptly paused the show.

“Before I continue, I want everyone to know something,” Your heart skipped a beat, “I would like to dedicate this next song, Matilda, to everyone.”

The sentence brought your anxieties back down, “But most of all, (Y/N).”

And the tears began to fall for you, a hand over your mouth in surprise.

“She’s a wonderful girl, a long-time friend of mine who was never treated how she deserved to be treated. The kindest person I know, and the strongest,” He continued on, “And I’m honored to be the father of our baby.”

The crowd erupted into screams and cheers, and tears began to fall from him as well. Shifting his weight on his other leg, he gave his signature air kisses before the music began to play.

“You were riding your bike to the sound of ‘It’s No Big Deal.’”

-

When she, (D/N), finally arrived, it was the best thing to ever happen to either of you. Harry would have sworn by it, despite his very fortunate life, and even as she grew to a toddler, she looked just like him.

It made you smile as you held onto your husband of two years, “God, she looks just like you. From her eyes to her nose to her jaw.”

She was playing with the Golden Retriever puppy you’d gotten to grow up with her. She giggled even as she fell onto her bottom and was covered in kisses.

“She reminds me of you, most of all, love,” He looked at her lovingly, “I’m just worried she’ll be lonely growing up. I can’t imagine not having Gemma with me. I know we rushed into it a bit for her sake, but it’s the best thing we’ve ever done. Well, aside from (D/N).”

You bit your lip slyly, “Don’t worry, H. She won’t have that problem in about seven months.”

His heart stopped, and he practically leaped up in joy, pulling you in by the waist and spinning you.

“You could have destroyed me and refused to be with me. You could have never told me she was mine or worse. When I met you, I knew you were going to be in my life forever. Thank you for taking mercy in the stupid pop star who knocked you up,” Harry met your eyes, speaking softly, “You’re my blessing, my strange mercy.”

[maturemenoftvandfilms]

The Disgraced Prince

CHAPTER FIVE: The Duke of York and I

My name is Ethan Clarke, and I'm Prince Andrew's lover. If you read the first installment to this story, you learned that His Majesty, Charles III's PR chief, James Cole hired me to keep Andrew; whose behavioral antics throughout his career as a Royal brought scandal and disgrace to the British Royal Family in line for the firm. More importantly, keeping his tryst between his new fuck boy a secret.

I considered how lucky I was, as the prince was still a very handsome man. At 64 years of age he stood at 6 feet, with a full head of thick whitish hair, and blue eyes with just a hint of mischief in them. His shoulders were broad, and he had a prominent belly which only made him that much more attractive in my eyes. Even though he'd yell at me and make me obey his commands, no matter how outrageous. He would have his way with me until HE was satisfied. I knew my goal was to please His Highness and invariably this would lead to my own pleasure.

After we had breakfast, Andrew asked me if I wanted to go riding with him. I said yes, even though I've never rode a horse before. We jumped into his Range Rover and drove to the grounds of Windsor Castle for his usual Saturday morning ride. The Duke cut a casual figure in a burgundy shirt and black trousers, with a Champion riding hat and riding boots, while out for a canter. Andrew is an elusive figure these days, having permanently resigned from all his public duties following controversy over his friendship with convicted paedophile Jeffrey Epstein and since then, he has not been seen in public often.

Dirty thoughts were running through my mind as I watched the prince during a break from exercising his horses. I looked at the outline of his cock through his black trousers and smiled at myself for knowing the taste of his treat. He knew I was watching him with more than just a little interest, but he just stared off onto the leafy grounds. Although I wanted to move over to him and start up with him, I stayed on my horse and just enjoyed the view.

Back at the stable, I was complaining about my ass hurting from the ride to see Andrew standing there, blatantly looking me over from head to toe. He also adjusted himself and rubbed his crotch before saying, "So was it the horse or me that gave you a sore ass," followed by a big laugh and a hard smack to the ass.

Next thing I know, Andrew was standing there with his swelling cock in his hand. I looked up at him and saw that big, stupid grin on his face. Then back down at his now stiff, a full 8" of royal cock. Well, giving in to lustful temptation was the only thing I was good at, so I put my hand around it and slowly jacked it. He then pulled me into a nearby empty stall, before I fell onto my knees in front of him. I stared at his boner for a moment then took his helmet in my mouth and sucked at it. I was licking him with vigor as I felt my cock flutter uncomfortably in my trouser. I reached down and unzipped them, allowing my prick to fall out, leaking precum onto the hay covered floor.

"That's it. I love that." Andrew said encouragingly.

I began bobbing my head up and down his shaft while I jerked my cock, he let go of my head and wrapped his hand around his wet cock, stroking generously.

Just then, someone entered the stable. We quickly zipped up and looked around to see if anyone had noticed, but no one had, so Andrew headed out. I followed him eagerly, and my cock was dripping in anticipation. Next thing I knew, we we're in his Range Rover speeding back to the Royal, nearly running over some guy's dog. By the time we got back to the estate, I was afraid he wasn't interested anymore as he sent on an errand. And when I returned, he was in the sitting room.

The lights were dim, Andrew had changed, sitting in a chair sprawled out and watching television. With a big grin on his face, he waves me over as I notice his hand stroke his hard cock through his pants. Once in front of him, he points down and quickly drop to my knees.

"Blow me."

What a dominate sexy fucking god of a man I thought as I slide my hands up his legs towards his crotch. Feeling that girthy, long cock through the pants, it takes every muscle in your body not to rip his pants off then. I unzip his pants as Andrew lifts his ass so I could pull down his pants. And as I did, his underwear catches his cock and cause it to snap back against his hairy belly. I licked and sucked his nipples as I rubbed the head of his cock, spreading his pre-cum like lube. I kissed my way down his chest, leaving a trail of saliva all the way to his cock. Taking him in my mouth, I began to suck while I swirled my tongue around his boner.

Covering his cock with my spit and sliding up and down hard. Then I slide it all the way down my throat, taking the full length. Andrew throws his head back and groans as he grabs the back of my head and trusts in deeper somehow, making me gag. I went back to stroking his now wet cock.

"Did Fergie ever suck you like that?" I asked.

"The cow could never suck my cock right." He said and I said she was missing out then. "Did she ever let you fuck her in the ass?"

He yes to that, saying "She had a good ass" as my tongue lapped at his nuts while he lay there stroking himself. I it looked like he was all ready to cum and everything when he whispered, "Ride me."

I stood up and looked around for some lube, he told me he had some Vaseline in his bag in the corner. I walked over towards it and bent over to pull the Vaseline out, as I bent over, I felt him grab my legs, I looked back from under my legs and saw him kneeling behind me. I let out a sharp gasp as I felt his tongue slid up and down my sweaty crack until it pressed against my hole.

"Oh yeah." I moaned as he slid the tip of his tongue into me, tonguefucking me, eating my ass.

He did that for around five minutes till my hole must have been dripping. My cock was twitching and I wanted to touch it, but I knew I'd shoot if I did. Then Andrew stood up, took the Vaseline tub from me and started spreading Vaseline over his prick while heading back to the couch. I stood there, pinching my nipples as he lay back and spread his legs wide. Andrew had that big, stupid grin on his face again as I climbed on top of him, guiding his 8" cock into my hole with one hand and tweaking his nipple with the other. As soon as his dick made contact, he immediately thrust all 8 inches into me. I gasped loudly, so loudly in fact that I’m sure the servants in the next room heard.

Placing both my hands on his chest, I dig into it as I lifted my ass and slid back down again, telling him he could fuck me as hard as he wanted.

Andrew let me take control, so I rode his dick, stopping whenever I thought he was getting close to coming so we could kiss. After teasing him and prolonging the excitement, he was desperate to cum. Just then, the disgraced prince took charge and flipped me over. He laid me flat on my stomach and shoved his cock back up into my ass. Again, I moaned as he started pounding my ass furiously, slapping it was his free hand like he was riding a bronco.

“Oh me! Oh! Oh!” I cried out as Andrew stared fucking me hard and fast. I could feel his hot breathe on the back of my neck as I push my ass back against his crotch each time he slammed his cock into of me. Pinned under him, that was all I could do. I knew he was getting close, so it didn't take too much bouncing until that hot cock exploded inside me. He emptied his balls inside me, then pulled out and hurried to his feet.

Then as he shook the last drops of cum from the piss hole of his dick, I turned over and started jacking myself off in front of him. With his dick still in his hand, Andrew stared down at me pounding away at my engorged dick. I swear I almost enjoy him watching me play with myself as I did with him fucking me as I shot my load all over my chest and stomach.

[fryingpan1234567]

each of the batkids is New York vibes in a different way

look I know Gotham is closer to NJ but hear me out

Dick— Welcome To New York (Taylor Swift)

Babs— Morning In America (Jon Bellion)

Jason— HEROES (Macklemore)

Cass— That’s My Girl (Fifth Harmony)

Tim— American Boy (Estelle)

Steph— Boo York, Boo York (Monster High)

Duke— Empire State of Mind (JAY-Z)

Damian— Dancing In the Dark (Rihanna)

Dick Grayson is NY in a Welcome To New York way. Gotham, Blüdhaven, Jersey, it’s all the same— dark, rainy, a little bit evil at times. And yet he sees the beauty of it all, and he truly loves his city. No matter how many times life kicks his ass, he’ll get back up and keep protecting this place he loves so much.

Barbara Gordon is New York in a Morning In America way. God, she’s busy, she’s always busy, but it’s where she’s happiest. Being a cop, a librarian, a professional Guy In The Chair™️ for an entire family of vigilantes, shit gets crazy. But she’s got it covered. She always does.

Jason Todd is New York in a HEROES way. He grew up in the Narrows and Crime Alley. Superman who? How about Roman Sionis, who let people sit in his club during the daytime in the winter when the streets got too cold? What about the older kids, who smoked weed that smelled like shit but taught him how to make money off of dumb rich white people? Those are Jason’s people. He’s an NY boy through and through.

Cassandra Cain is NY in a That’s My Girl way. Ever jumped off a building with the sound of pure feminism blasting into your brain, wind and the sheer energy of Gotham City whipping by, tearing at your hair and clothes? Cass has. She lives for it. The city is alive, and it sounds like this.

Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne is New York in an American Boy way. Clean-cut, city boy, businessman who always has places to be and people to see. Busy. Alive. If the livelihood of New York could be filtered into a personality, it would be Tim.

Stephanie Brown is NY in a Boo York, Boo York way. Maybe a hint childish, but hey, maybe that’s what the people of Gotham need. The whole vigilante gig has turned her from a critical pessimist to a die-hard optimist, and she feels sometimes that other people just need to feel the city more. It’s changed her. It’s freedom. Freedom to be a kid again.

Duke Thomas is NY in an Empire State of Mind way. Even after all these years, he still hasn’t quite gotten used to the majesty of such a big city. She’s real, and she’s alive. He sort of loves being a city kid.

Damian Wayne is New York in a Dancing In the Dark way. It just… makes his soul happy. After living in solitude for most of his childhood, coming to a city like Gotham was like nothing he’d even fathomed before. He’s never alone, if only in spirit. It’s healing. And while he won’t gush about it like some of his siblings, he does love his city.

[aifsaath]

I am continuously perplexed at how a show as objectively bad and problematic as hotd keeps inspiring outstanding fanfics like yours and @gwenllian-in-the-abbey’s. Truly it’s a mystery to me, especially considering that the books covering the dance are supposed to be quite mediocre as well from what I’ve perceived. Just so you know,with that trailer out now I’m gonna completely blend out the events of the show and consider our fathers clad in red canon

@gwenllian-in-the-abbey AAAAAAAAAAAAAA, I think George's gonna order a hit on us:D

I'm glad you like our slightly destructive approach to teh canon. I'm mostly fueled by spite and my dislike for George's and HBO's complete disregard for the historical context of the stuff they draw their inspiration from (you can't do the Matilda vs Stephen showdown and expect the same sense of injustice, when your main conflict is about Viserys' imbecilic approach to rules, Rhaenyra's weak-ass claim and papa/dragons being her go-to solution to all her problems, Daemon being a chaos gremlin, Corlys' malignant ambition and the Hightowers being the only ones who actually care about the rule of law.)

A lesbian romance doesn't automatically turn a story into a feminist manifesto, nor does a girlboss who's treated by the narrative as the second coming of Christ. Context matters and it's a mistake to view the Dance through the lens of modern ideals about egalitarianism.

GRRM's hubris when it comes to "Aragorn's tax policies" is just another thing that enrages me and Gwenllian, because the man completely misunderstands the medieval legal codes. Just because they were complex that doesn't mean they were fucking contradictory on their own; no one wanted civil wars breaking out each time a monarch died.

Problems happened when two countries with generational beefs worked on two different principles of succession, ie. England (male-preference primogeniture) vs France (male-only primogeniture), or if there was some dynastic fuckery that completely messed up the clear-cut succession lines with usurpations and cousin marriages (Yorks vs Lancasters).

Had Richard II (the son of the Black Prince) died peacefully without issue, the succession would have followed through the line of the Duke of Clarence, with Edmund the Earl of March eventually becoming the king (and he was Richard's heir, btw).

But that's not what happened. The son of John of Gaunt usurped the throne and it was then passed down through his line, because he was the crowned king. Now, you can argue whether or not he had any right to do the usurpation in the first place and whether or not he was the legitimate king and you bet people back then argued about that too. This ambiguity is how you create a proper narrative about actually conflicting claims. The only thing propping up Rhaenyra against her brother is the fact that Viserys is a moron.

How the fuck can I take F&B seriously and without the Dead Sea's worth of salt, when it pretty much blows Jaehaerys' posthumous dick about his wisdom when he "let" the council of 101 decide the succession (while politely ignoring the fact that Jaehaerys' own claim is legit only in the cases of either full salic or semi-salic succession, ie male-only), while never once it calls out Viserys out on his extremely dangerous decision. He gets to die venerated as the peaceful grandpa and all the blame for his incompetence is piled on Aegon II and Alicent.

Let's go through the possible succession systems, shall we?

If we follow male-preference primogeniture, the legitimate line of kings ends with Aerea because she was the eldest child of Aegon the Uncrowned, Maegor's eldest nephew. Only after she and her sister die without issue, Jaehaerys can become the king. Jaehaerys' canon ascension works only because Rhaena gave up her daughters' claims. The next in line would be Aemon and after him Rhaenys. But that's not what happened.

If we follow the salic law (male only), the legitimate line of the kings goes Aegon I -> Aenys I -> Aegon Uncrowned -> Jaehaerys I -> Viserys I -> Aegon II. This is probably what Jaehaerys wanted to ensure, since he challenged Maegor's kingship in the first place.

If a crowned king can choose his heir, then Jaehaerys was never a legitimate king and Aerea was the true queen, because Maegor, who had won his crown in the trial by combat, chose her as his heir.

What about the principle of seniority? Cognatic seniority where men and women have equal claims is out of the question since Aegon I was the crowned king, not Visenya. Male-only seniority would go Aegon I -> Aenys I -> Maegor I (uncontested!) -> Aegon Crowned This Time -> Viserys the Not Tortured to Death -> Jaehaerys I -> Aemon (only if his uncle Viserys has no issue) -> Baelon -> Vaegon -> Viserys I -> Daemon (EW).

Notice the distinct lack of Rhaenyra.

Team Black keeps mentioning the widow's law, but that's a bulk of nonsense. I suppose the misunderstanding originates from a (willful) misinterpretation of this passage. The book says:

Now, I highly doubt Jaehaerys intended for the law to mean that a daughter from the first marriage should come before the sons from the second. The wording is a bit unlucky, but I suppose the intention was to establish the legal position of the second wife and her children as united with the position of her step-children - she has the same duties towards them as if they were own, and the same goes the other way. Which would make sense. Because otherwise, no one would be desperate enough to marry a widower with daughters. Since we know that title and land ownerships have remained in the same families without changing hands once or twice since the implementation of the law, I really doubt the team black's literal interpretation of the passage was the one intended. Ffs, Viserys was pushed to marry again because he had only one daughter, meaning, this law wasn't viewed the way the Team Black wishes for. And I'm not even delving into the fact that this would be a female inheritance hack penned by Jaehaerys, if that was the case. Talk about ooc.

So, yeah, we're taking Gyldayne's interpretation of the past with so much salt our hearts are gonna fail.

[ag-writes-stuff]

I Would Have Followed You

Summary: This was never meant to be anything, was never actually anything if you asked Rafe Cameron. This is the story of the almost-relationship between him and you. Was it love?

Click below for the beginning of this story. If not, continue on! Thank you.

Chapter One.

The first time you ever locked eyes with Rafe Cameron was in a passing moment. It took you years to realize that life is just a succession of these so-called passing moments. If it’s a painful moment, it will pass. If it’s a perfect moment, it will also pass.

     That particular moment occurred on one of the hottest days of summer. Even with the coastal breeze the heat in North Carolina was brutal.

Unfortunately for you, it was also senior year move-in day which meant carrying boxes up two flights of stairs for hours. Usually, one of your parents would be in tow, but your mom was called into work last minute and your dad wasn’t always the most reliable. So, you had to do it all yourself. Your mom was a pediatric surgeon. When you were growing up, she transferred hospitals every few years until she finally landed a position at Duke. Your dad’s career as a writer was flexible, so you were able to move wherever your mom needed you to. Quickly after publishing his first novel your dad became a New York Times Best Selling Author. Little did you know, that would be the first and last book he ever wrote. His agent dropped him after he missed his deadline four times. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't write. He started drinking a lot, mostly while your mom was at work. Eventually she had enough of it and asked him to move out.

     When you were younger, you used to admire your parents’ relationship. Things you used to consider “gross”, You now realize were beautiful. Kisses in the car, holding hands in restaurants, cuddling on the couch. How can two people go from not being able to get enough of each other to never wanting to speak again? You'd never been in love, so you guessed you'd wouldn't know... The wood creaked under your feet as you started down the stairs for what would be your last trip from the car to apartment. You noticed that the parking lot was now full of students with their parents, unloading cars, breaking down boxes and saying their goodbyes. You also couldn’t help but miss yours.

     Ascent Student Living was no different than any other off-campus apartment complex. It was new and made up of eight buildings, all different shades of blues and greens. One of your favorite parts of living at the beach was that everything was prettier. The architecture of most buildings and shopping centers mimicked the aesthetic of a small beach town and even though we were a good twenty minutes from the ocean, the bright colors and palm trees made it feel closer. When you were applying to colleges, you were so excited to finally get to decide where you lived instead of following your mom up and down the east coast. The options were endless, but decided to stay in North Carolina a little while longer. You settled on Wilmington College where you’d major in English and minor in journalism. Then after you graduated, maybe you’d move to New York City and become a writer. A girl could dream...

     After the weight of choosing a school was lifted, you finally started to enjoy what you had left of senior year— that’s when you met Carter. Carter was the first crush you had since middle school. He had brown hair and and these piercing hazel eyes that made you uneasy. Some of your friends said he looked like Christian Bale. You never told him you thought so because you didn’t need to feed his ego any more than you already had.

     Carter was, in ways, a breath of fresh air. He made you both excited and nervous at the same time. The nights you spent with him were adrenaline-pumping because you never knew what came next. He asked you to senior prom and showed up at your house with his mom and a corsage that didn’t match the dress, but of course you wore it anyway. You lost your virginity that night. You thought it would be so much more different. You were expecting this grand, romantic gesture and instead it was just a few minutes in a spare bedroom at your friend’s house that resulted in a broken condom.

     A few weeks later, your parents sat you down and told you they were getting a divorce. You were angry with them for ruining the summer before you went away to college. You had finally made it to your semi-adult life, and they were ripping the rug right out from under you at the time you needed stability the most. For the rest of the summer, you had sex with Carter whenever you could, while both of your parents were at work, in cars in parking lots, at parties, after parties. You were willing to do it whenever and wherever because you thought it would make him love you and you were desperate not to be alone.

Spoiler alert: sex never makes someone love you.

     You spent the next year hoping you’d become more than a hook-up and the year after that trying to meet someone who compared to him. Fast forward to the middle of sophomore year when you decided to swear off dating until you graduated college, life got so much better when you stopped looking for love in every guy you met. You started to enjoy school, meet new friends and finally make peace with your parents’ divorce.

You lifted the last box out of your car, closed the trunk and headed up the stairs to the second-floor apartment. Every few seconds you alternated looking down at your feet and then straight ahead to make sure you didn’t miss a step and trip.

     As you turned your gaze, your eyes landed on him, and you couldn't help but notice his impressive stature. He stood tall and upright, exuding confidence with his broad and muscular build. His blond hair was tucked neatly under a backward cap, accentuating his chiseled facial features. He wore a grey t-shirt, which seemed to have been washed and dried numerous times, but still clung to his form in a flattering way. The casual attire and relaxed demeanor only added to his allure, making him seem approachable yet intriguing.

     “Need some help with that?” he asked.

     “No, I’m okay.”

     You finally made eye contact with him. His blue eyes were familiar, like you’d looked into them before.

     “That’s me right there.” You managed to stick your elbow out and point in the direction of the door that said 3221.

     “See you around then, neighbor.”

     You didn’t know his name, but you really wish you did. You wish you knew everything about him.

     You walked inside of your apartments to your roommates, Lauren and Jordan, blasting music and laughing in the kitchen together. Before you joined them, you set the last box down in your bedroom. The rest of the unpacking could wait until tomorrow.

     “Did you see all the hot guys in the parking lot? I’m so glad we got into Ascent. I heard so many people were waitlisted.” Lauren said.

     “Waitlisted for a college apartment complex?” Jordan asked. “That’s insane. It’s not Harvard.”

     You met Lauren Ellis and Jordan Coleman when you all got assigned the worst freshman dorm, Moore Hall. It was the only high rise on campus that hadn’t been torn down and rebuilt yet. Luckily you all were among the last people to live there. And you'd like to think your experience that was Moore Hell, as you called it, made you closer. The three of you were so different yet fit together so perfectly.

Moving around so much when you were younger prevented you from forming long-lasting friendships. You found it easier to avoid getting emotionally invested in people that you knew you’d have to say goodbye to eventually. Lauren and Jordan provided you with a new perspective on friendship. They were a source of comfort and support during both the happy and trying times, and they made you realize you were missing out on such an important bond.

     “I call dibs on the super tanned one with the longboard!” Lauren laughed.

     “You act like that’s not a description of basically every guy on campus,” Jordan replied.

“Just wait until you see who I’m talking about,” Lauren opened the refrigerator and tossed us each a Twisted Tea. “Courtesy of my parents, our congratulatory move-in present was a fully-stocked bar.”

     “Can they just adopt me already?” you laughed, even though you weren't joking. “Tell us more about the longboard guy.”

     “Okay, so you’ll never believe this, but he was trying to get into our apartment this morning. He lives in the unit above us and for a solid ten minutes was banging on the door and yelling that his key fob wasn’t working. When I finally opened it, he realized he got the unit numbers mixed up and was so embarrassed. He did ask for my number though and already texted me, so I’d call that a win.”

     “I hope his roommates are hot!” Jordan shouted from her room.

     “What’re you doing in there?” you replied. “It’s pregame time, unpacking can wait.”

     “Well, our summer writing assignment can’t.”

     “Shit.”

     You grabbed your Twisted Tea and headed to your room, shutting the door behind you. You looked around at the progress you made today, everything was pretty much in its place besides a few pieces of wall art you still needed to hang. You sat down at the cheap IKEA desk that Ascent provided each bedroom with, opened your laptop and pulled up the assignment. You chose English as your major because you'd always loved to write. Since you hadn't grown up with siblings, you write fictional stories and kept journals to occupy yourself.

You finished the assignment in record time and then made your way into the bathroom to get yourself ready for your first night out as seniors. In the mirror, you stared at the girl looking back at you. She had never been super confident in herself, but she was beautiful. She just hadn't heard that from anyone but her own parents of course.

     After you finished your makeup, you scanned the closet for an outfit to wear. You wanted to look good but not draw too much attention to yourself and settled on a pair of denim shorts, a white crop top with a lettuce hem and your go-to shoe Converse.

     On Thursday, it was tradition that every student made their way over the bridge to Wrightsville’s favorite sports bar, Jerry’s. So, you took a few shots, piled into an Uber and made your way to kick off what you hoped would be an amazing senior year.

     “Can I get you a drink?” are six words every 21-year-old wants to hear. You spun around and was suddenly face-to-face with the guy from the stairwell.

     “Sure.” You played it cool.

     “Two Mich Ultras.” he said, sliding the bartender cash.

     “Bold of you to assume I’m a beer girl.” You tried to flirt.

     “Well, you’re holding an empty bottle and it’s dollar beer night, so it wasn’t really much of a stretch.” He laughed a little before chugging the rest of his beer and placed it on the sticky bar. You could feel your face go flush.

     “I know, I was just testing you,” You raised an eyebrow. “Observant, I like it.”

     “I was surprised to see you’re drinking beer though, most girls still opt for a vodka cran even on dollar beer night.”

“If I drink liquor the night usually looks a lot different for me. I want to at least remember the first night of senior year you know?”

     “So, a senior huh? I would’ve guessed younger. What’re you studying?”

     “English and journalism. You?”

“I’m in the business program but I really want to get into sports broadcasting, so I considered journalism. I might pick up a minor this year if I can fit it in before graduation.”

     “Oh, you’re a senior? I would’ve guessed younger.” You threw his own joke back at him.      “Touché. Are you not into younger guys?” The corner of his mouth curled slightly into a smirk. It was at that moment you knew you were in trouble.

“Thanks for the drink,” You smiled. “I better go find my friends though.”

     “Rafe Cameron,” he stuck out his hand. “Most people call me Cameron.”

     “Y/N Y/L/N. Most people call me Y/N.” you turned around and began to walk away.

     “See you around, Y/L/N!” he called after you.

~~~

“Maybe I should text longboard guy and see if they want to come down to post-game.” Lauren slurred as you walked into your shared apartment.

     “Why don’t we save it, it’s only the first night.”

“Too late. He replied! He and his roommates are coming down.” She interrupted you before you could finish.

     “Ooh, I’m manifesting that the other two roommates are just as hot so there’s one for each of us!” Jordan laughed.

     Lauren pulled out a bottle of tequila, limes and poured each of us a shot. Even though you desperately wanted to go to bed, you knew you couldn’t say no.

     “Here’s to the father, the son, and the tequila chilled. Hope to God this doesn’t get us killed. Remember that if he won’t, his best friend will. Always remember to take your pill. Now let’s go get fucking drilled.”

     We raised our shot glasses, downed the tequila, and quickly followed them up with limes. Seconds later, the front door opened and in walked three tall guys wearing almost identical outfits. You watched as the last of them shut the door behind him. As soon as he turned around, you locked eyes again.

     Rafe Cameron.

     “Guys! This is Topper, Kelce and Rafe. They live right above us.” Lauren introduced them. Jordan and you awkwardly waved from the kitchen as you grabbed two drinks from the fridge.

     Topper looked like he was plucked out of a Billabong campaign. He had blonde hair, blue eyes and a tan that probably lasted year-round. You could tell he grew up at the beach and had no intention of ever leaving. Kelce was the opposite, his dark complexion sported a buzz cut and a little bit of facial hair and he screamed of elegance with every movement.

  Lauren insisted on making the guys drinks, even though they came with a full case of Miller Lite. While she did that, Jordan and you got comfortable on the couch and set up a game of Circle of Death.

     “Oh, I’m in,” Topper joined us.

     Everyone made their way to the couch and Jordan reminded everyone of the rules. Halfway through the first round you excused yourself and went to the bathroom. As you walked back down the hall that connected your bedroom to the kitchen, you were stopped by Rafe. His body shifted so that it was blocking you from finding a way out of the hallway and the situation.

“Are you just going to pretend like you don’t know me?” he asked.

     “I mean, I don’t really.” You reminded him.

     “So that moment back at the bar never happened?”

     “If you consider a beer and a two-minute-long conversation a moment then you probably think this is our first date.”

     “Good one, but I don’t date.”

     “They never do.”

     “What’s in here?” he brushed past you and let himself into your room.

     “My bedroom, obviously.” You rolled your eyes.

He looked around the room, picking up picture frames and examining them one by one. You couldn’t believe Rafe Cameron was in your bedroom. You felt your heart rate increasing by the second and with a newfound drunk confidence, you closed the bedroom door behind you. He looked up and his big blue eyes felt like they could see right through you. Taking the hint, he made his way closer to you and placed one hand on your lower back and the other on your face. Gently, his thumb stroked your cheek, and you could feel the rest of his hand grasp the back of your neck. Goosebumps.

     When your lips finally touched it was like they had met before.

First kisses can be two things: terrible or incredible. Your first kiss was terrible. You were 15 and it was New Year’s Eve. You remember tasting toothpaste on his tongue and thinking he’d brushed his teeth to be courteous. It turns out he was wasted and had been throwing up in the bathroom right before the ball dropped.

     Then, there was your first good kiss. It was like a scene out of any coming-of-age movie or book made in the past ten years. One Saturday night your senior year of high school you stayed out past curfew. “Crazy Rap” by Afroman was playing on the Bluetooth speaker while we passed around whiskey and a bottle of Dr. Pepper as a chaser. You knew it was wrong to let Carter drive you home after he drank but you were 17 and didn't always make the best decisions. He parked his car at the top of your driveway so your parents wouldn't hear the engine, then he kissed you. You can still remember the way your entire body lit up, like you had been going through life on auto-pilot until that very moment.

     That’s not what this first kiss with Rafe felt like. Kissing him felt familiar, like your lips were puzzle pieces that fit together just right. He didn’t make you nervous in the way Carter used to. He made you feel comfortable. He made you feel at home.

[saintmeghanmarkle]

The parallels to Harold in this Sun article: Inside Prince Andrews fall from heartthrob war hero to national disgrace by those who knew him by u/Von_und_zu_

The parallels to Harold in this Sun article: Inside Prince Andrew’s fall from heartthrob war hero to national disgrace – by those who knew him One could easily subsitute Harold for Andrew in these passages - they sound exactly the same in personality and character. It may be hard for some people to imagine now, but four decades ago Prince Andrew was a national heartthrob. [I'm not sure Harold was a hearthrob but he certainly was very popular.]Even before he won fame as a Falklands War hero Navy helicopter pilot in 1982, the dashing and glamorous Duke of York was already Britain’s favourite male royal.“This nickname stemmed from his childish obsession with doing exactly the opposite of what had been agreed in pre-visit meetings with his staff.”Mr Wilson added: “He appeared to regard himself as an expert in every matter… Colleagues put this down to an inferiority complex about being mentally challenged.”“Andrew was full of his own self-importance and there was a lot of standing on ceremony,” he said.One senior royal aide said there was no hope of trying to explain to him that his behaviour was damaging the monarchy. He painted an easy target on his back and for the most part didn’t even realise it - or if he did, he didn’t care.“He comes from an era where he was the Queen’s son, for God’s sake.“There’s a lesson for all spares to the heir in this, and the people who advise them.“These guys are expected to just get on and do the job but they’re often woefully equipped to do it. “So it maybe falls to all of us around these people to do more of the heavy lifting, to try to keep them on the straight and narrow.“He was lauded and applauded. People bowed and scraped for decades. That’s got to affect your ego and I suspect he probably thought he was bulletproof.”Things could not be more different today.“The trouble is, at the end of the day, they’re adults. And they can be bloody obstinate adults.”From all appearances, William and Catherine have taken note and are taking steps to avoid another one of these kind of entitled pompous dead weights in the family. https://ift.tt/9kqItFi post link: https://ift.tt/ouHFETv author: Von_und_zu_ submitted: September 23, 2024 at 02:00PM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.