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flamingpudding · 9 days

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I had a crack idea that I was thinking of so you know in Dan is Klarion au I was imagining a au based off of that one where all of Danny's children are Klarion is like the robin thing for Batman it started off with Danielle when nabu insulted Danny as the Ghost King and Balance

Ever since Ellie decided that she needed to get back in blood so she made the chaotic antihero Klarion and and her suppose it familiar 'cat' Teekl the way to help out her mother and mess with Dr Fate/Nabu Teekl is actually a bear with an illusion on that makes him look like a cat in the human's eyes

Whatever since the anti-hero Klarion in The Phantom family has been passed down each of them giving their own flair to the persona of Klarion with a different animal every time that they had pretending to be a cat

Tell her to finally passed on to Dan it is an honorary sibling thing each of them has their own antihero name once they passed down the title of Klarion

Diana's query and takes after his father's style of dressing and his tickle is a phoenix

First of Thanks for the Ask! Inspirational as always! Helps with my writers block [insert awkward laugh]

Either way because this is split in two asks... you get two version! One focused on how it started and the other on the reveal! Though the might be some little Shorts... Also there is something really funny to me about a giant bear letting Illusionen into a cat... So Enjoy!

(BTW still thinking over the other ask... and working on it don't worry!)

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Ellie huffed as Danny reprimanded her for her actions. She just huffed crossing her arms. She was just helping Danny. Her mom got a lot on his shoulders and she as the sort of oldest saw that the best. Sure technically Dan was older then her but, he shrunk down to kid level again and now she was the oldest.

Well if she ignored her other brothers but they were only saved recently and still in treatment with Frostbite. So she was the oldest. End of story.

"Ellie you can't just go off like that you know that messing with an Ancient is not-"

"Mom, That Nabu-Guy was being a pain in the a- " - "Ellie!" - "A PAIN, babbling on to much about Order here Order there. How keeping Balance means keeping Order and bla bla bla!" She cut in stopping her mom before he could go on another rant about the Ancients, she needed to treat with respect.

"He doesn't respect you, the Ancient of Balance! You are the literal Symbol of Balance between Life and Death! Aside from being the Ghost King. So of course I had to mess with the one HE mentors!" Ellie added huffing as she crossed her arms.

Danny pinched the bridge of his nose. "Ellie, you created an entire alternate persona!"

"Yea so?"

"You used an illusion spell on Fluffels!"

"And? Any good Anit-Hero needs a Mascot." Ellie shrugged once more looking up at her mom before looking over to Fluffels, her pet ghost grizzly that was pretty much double maybe even tripple her size and the fluffiest ghost grizzly you could find in the entire Ghost Zone, and the cutest.

Danny on the other hand groaned, wondering if he had done anything wrong while raising Danielle. Sure he had been a teen himself but good damit why the hell did Ellie decided messing with the Ancient of Order or rather his mentee was a good idea. "I am calling Jazz! You can explain to her what you were thinking!"

He was definitely to overworked and stressed to deal with Ellies mischievousness right now. Well she did call her alternate persona Klarion, Lord of Chaos. Nope! He was not dealing with this right now, so Danny did the sanest thing he could think of. Turning on his heel and walking away. Where to? Who cares maybe he would check in with his old man Clockwork and see what Ellie had actually been up to, instead of just reading through Nabu's complains.

Ellie on the other hand blinked watching her mom leave before calling after him. "Does that mean I have to stop, being Klarion?"

"Mom?!"

"MOM!"

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"Well hello my lovely Amadillos! Long time not seen!"

Ellie shouted cheerfully as she twirled into appearing hair styled into a horn like form, black suit and she might have over done it a little with the black eyeliner but hey it was an iconic look wasn't it. She smirked as Fluffles growled which translated into a meow for the mortals before her thank to the illusion spell.

The mortal teen looked up at her surprised as she floated down her hand glowing with red ectoplasm (a color change from her usual green ectoplasm that had taken a while to learn from Pandora). Young Justice was currently transporting something of interest to her. Well of Interest for the Justice League, really but Doctor Fate was involved which meant Nabu was involved, which naturally meant she would get involved. It didn't hurt that she would also get to try to try some new tricks.

"You got something interesting there... and I want that." She grinned. Ellie didn't give them long before she acted using the new tricks she had learned.

"Woah! Hey there, watch the pointy and sharp thowies!" She laughed making a quick shield as she blocked some batarangs and arrows before blinking.

"Hey they look different. Robin, did you change equipment? Did you get a new haircut too?" She asked curious but didn't really receive an answer as they ignored her questions and shouted something about distracting her while the others continue the transportation. Still she bend down to pick one of them up twirling it between her fingers. "What gives didn't they have a different design before?"

In hindsight it was probably not a good idea to just abandon her original goal but Robin was making her curious. And she could always find a different way to mess with Nabu. Her mom had given her an indirect okay years ago anyway.

"Teekl!" She called out and only her eyes could see how Fluffles jumped at the call growling in response as he swatted away some of the more annoying Young Justice kids. To the mortals it probably looked like Teekl was using ectoplasm, or well magic, in their eyes.

She used that change to go up into Robins face smirking widely as she looked at the other more closely, trying to get a read on him. "You are different! You aren't the same Robin I meet before!"

She ducked in time avoid Superboy as she hopped back excited with a new idea for her family.

But first she would have to deal with the little chaos and mischief she was creating.

------------------

".....and that is how I learned that the Robin title is getting passed down. So I was thinking of doing the same!" Ellie broadly stated looking at all her younger siblings before her. "We all get pretty annoyed with the way Nabu treats Mom so there always has to be a Lord of Chaos to 'balance' Nabu out!"

She grinned at her siblings expecting the same kind of excitement she had and they didn't disappoint. Danny had been there for all of them, even going so far as in to find a way with Clockwork to save some of their lives. So of course they all would jump at the change to mess with the one Ancient that was badmouthing their Mother just because Balance didn't entitle Order the way they wanted.

After all Chaos was needed to Balance Order out.

This was going to be fun...

[Follow up part Linked here]

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greenwitchcrafts · 5 months

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December 2023 witch guide

Full moon: December 26th

New moon: December 12th

Sabbats: Yule December 21st-January 1st

December Cold Moon

Known as: Drift Clearing Moon, Frost Exploding Tree Moon, Moon of the Popping Trees, Hoar Frost Moon, Snow Moon, Winter, Aerra Geola, Maker Moon, Heilagmanoth, Long Night's Moon, Oak Moon, Wintermonat, Moon of the Long Night, Little Spirit Moon, Wolf Moon & When the Deer Shed Their Antlers Moon

Element: Fire

Zodiac: Sagittarius & Capricorn

Nature spirits: Snow, Storm, & Winter Tree faeries

Deities: Athena, Fates, Hades, Hathor, Hecate, Ixchel, Minerva, Neith, Norns, Osiris & Persephone

Animals: Bear, deer, horse & mouse

Birds: Robin, rook & snowy owl

Trees: Fir, Holly & Pine

Herbs: Bay, cedar, chamomile, cinnamon, English ivy, evergreen, fir, frankincense, holly, mistletoe, myrrh, pine & sage

Flowers: Christmas catus, holly & poinsettia

Scents: Cedar, cinnamon, frankincense, ginger, lilac, myrrh, nutmeg, patchouli, pine, rose geranium, rosemary, saffron, violet & wintergreen

Stones: Bloodstone, blue topaz, cat's eye, garnet, jacinth, obsidian, peridot, turquoise, zircon, ruby & serpentine

Colors: Black, blood red, gold, green, red, silver, black & white

Energy: Alchemy, darkness, endurance, death & re-birth, higher education, publications, reaching out to others, religion, spiritual paths, travel & truth

Today, December’s full Moon is most commonly known as the Cold Moon—a Mohawk name that conveys the frigid conditions of this time of year, when cold weather truly begins to grip us.

This full Moon has also been called the Long Night Moon (Mohican), as it rises during the “longest” nights of the year, near the December winter solstice. This name is doubly fitting because December’s full Moon shines above the horizon for a more extended period than most full Moons.

In Europe, ancient pagans called the December full Moon the “Moon Before Yule,” in honor of the Yuletide festival celebrating the return of the sun heralded by winter solstice.

Yule

Also known as: Alban, Arthan & Winter Solstice

Season: Winter

Symbols: Baskets of clove studded fruit, Christmas catus, decorated evergreen trees, evergreen boughs, gifts, gold pillar candles, hung mistletoe, poinsettias, wreaths & Yule logs/small Yule log with three candles

Colors: Gold, green, orange, red, silver, white &yellow

Oils/incense: Bayberry, cedar, cinnamon, frankincense. Myrrh & pine

Animals: Bear, boar, deer (stag), pig, squirrel & tiger

Birds: Eagle, goose, kingfisher, lapwing, owl robin & wren

Stones: Bloodstone, garnet, ruby, alexandrite, blue topaz, cat's eye, citrine, clear quartz, diamond, emerald, green tourmaline, jet, kunzite & pearl

Foods: Caraway cakes, cookies, eggnog, fruits, ginger tea, nuts, pork, spiced cider, turkey, wassail & lamb's wool (ale, sugar, nutmeg & roasted apples)

Herbs/plants: Bay, bayberry, birch, blessed thistle, cedar, chestnut, cinnamon, evergreens, fir, frankincense, ginger, holly, ivy, juniper, mistletoe, moss, myrrh, oak, pine, rosemary, sage, valerian & yellow cedar

Flowers: Chamomile, poinsettia & yarrow

Goddesses: Alcyone, Aphrodite, Ameratasu, Bona Dea, Brighid, Cailleach Bheur, Demeter, Diana, Fortuna, Frau Holle, Frau Perchta, Frigga, Gaia, Hel, Great Mother, Idunn, Isis, Ishtar, Kolyada, La Befana, Maat & Tiamat

Gods: Apollo, Attis, Balder, Bragi, Dionysus, Divine Child, Green Man, Helios, Holly King, Horned one, Horus, Janus, Lord of Misrule, Lugh, Mabon, Marduk, Mithras, Odin, Ra, Saturn & Surya

Issues Intentions & Powers: Darkness, divination, light, messages/omens, purification, rebirth/renewal & transformation

Spellwork: Earth magick, happiness, harmony, love & peace

Activities:

• Set up & decorate a Yule altar

• Clean, organize & cleanse before decorating your home

• Make witch's balls to hang on your tree (protective & pretty!)

• Decorate & bless & Yule tree

• Stay awake until dawn to observe the cycles of nature

• Give gifts tomyour family & friends

• Donate your time or helpful items to charity

• Go caroling

• Hang mistletoe in your doorways

• Make Wassail

• Prepare a Yule Log

• Host a Yule feast

• Craft your own decorative wreath

• Decorate your house with Yule colored candles

• Welcome the Sun

• Go on nature walks & leave offerings to nature

• Meditate & reflect on the passing year

“Yule” comes from Old English geol, which shares a history with the equivalent word from Old Norse, jól. Both these words referred to a midwinter festival centered around the winter solstice, which traditionally marked the halfway point of the winter season. After the solstice—the shortest day of the year—the days again begin to grow longer, so it’s thought that Yule was a celebration of the re-appearance of the Sun &the fertile land’s rebirth.

The celebration of Yule is one of the oldest winter celebrations in the world. Ancient people were hunters & spent most of their time outdoors. The seasons & weather played a significant part in their lives. The customs and traditions associated with it vary widely.

Scholars have connected the original celebrations of Yule to the Wild Hunt, the god Odin, and the heathen Anglo-Saxon Mōdraniht ("Mothers' Night")

Some believe it marks the rebirth of the Sun (the God) from the Earth (the Goddess) & the cold days of winter will soon begin to wane. The Goddess is seen in her virgin Maiden aspect

In towns and cities throughout Sweden during the Christmas season, large goats are constructed out of straw. It is thought that the tradition originated in ancient times, perhaps as a tribute to the god Thor, who was said to ride in a chariot pulled by goats. In Sweden the goat came to be associated with the Christmas celebration, and the Yule goat is now considered by many to be a companion or counterpart to Santa Claus.

Related festivals:

Christmas- An annual festival commemorating the birth of Jesus Christ as the son of God, primarily observed on December 25th

Hanukkah- A Jewish festival commemorating the recovery of Jerusalem & subsequent rededication of the Second Temple at the beginning of the Maccabean Revolt against the Seleucid Empire in the 2nd century BCE.

Hanukkah is observed for eight nights & days, starting on the 25th day of Kislev according to the Hebrew calendar, which may occur at any time from late November to late December in the Gregorian calendar. The festival is observed by lighting the candles of a candelabrum with nine branches, commonly called a menorah or hanukkiah.

Kwanzaa- An annual celebration of African-American culture from December 26 to January 1st, culminating in a communal feast called Karamu, usually on the sixth day. It was created by activist Maulana Karenga, based on African harvest festival traditions from various parts of West & Southeast Africa. Kwanzaa was first celebrated in 1966.

A Kwanzaa ceremony may include drumming and musical selections, libations, a reading of the African Pledge & the Principles of Blackness, reflection on the Pan-African colors, a discussion of the African principle of the day or a chapter in African history, a candle-lighting ritual, artistic performance & finally, a feast of faith (Karamu Ya Imani).

Saturnalia-

is an ancient Roman festival and holiday in honour of the god Saturn, held on 17 December of the Julian calendar & later expanded with festivities through to 23 December. The holiday was celebrated with a sacrifice at the Temple of Saturn, in the Roman Forum & a public banquet, followed by private gift-giving, continual partying & a carnival atmosphere that overturned Roman social norms: gambling was permitted & masters provided table service for their slaves as it was seen as a time of liberty for both slaves and freedmen alike.

A common custom was the election of a "King of the Saturnalia", who gave orders to people, which were followed & presided over the merrymaking. The gifts exchanged were usually gag gifts or small figurines made of wax or pottery known as sigillaria. The poet Catullus called it "the best of days".

Other celebrations:

Feast of Epona-

Eponalia is the feast day of Gaulish Goddess Epona, the Divine Mare & in the time of the Roman Empire it was celebrated on December 18th.

Epona is known to be one of a very few Gaulish deities whose names were spread to the rest of the Roman Empire. This seems to have happened because Roman cavalry units stationed in Gaul followed Her & adopted her as their Patroness. This may have started because many of the cavalry troops were conscripted from Gaul as they were superb horsemen. From Gaul the Romans took Epona with them including to Rome where She was given her own feast day on the 18 December. They worshipped her as Epona Augusta or Epona Regina & invoked her on behalf of the Emperor. She even had a shrine in the barracks of the Imperial Bodyguard.

Hunting of the Wren-

A traditional custom carried out on the Isle of Man on the 26 December, St. Stephen's Day. It consists of groups of people going around villages and towns singing and dancing a traditional song and dance around a decorated wren pole.

The earliest and most common folklore story accounting for the origin of hunt the wren tells of a fairy/enchantress/witch whose beauty lures the men of the Isle of Man to harm, for which she is chased and is changed into the form of a wren. It is therefore in punishment for her actions that the wren is hunted on St. Stephen's Day

Sources:

Farmersalmanac.com

Llewellyn's Complete Book of Correspondences by Sandra Kines

A Witch's Book of Correspondences by Viktorija Briggs

Llewellyn's 2023 magical almanac: practical magic for everyday living

Wikipedia

Encyclopedia Britannica

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muppet-facts · 1 month

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Muppet Fact #1037

The Hyalinobatrachium dianae, a Costa Rican species of glass frog discovered in 2015 bears a striking resemblance to Kermit the Frog. Brian Kubicki, the man who discovered the frog said this in relation to the media's comparisons to the real frog and the Muppet:

"Prior to the media making the link between Hyalinobatrachium dianae and Kermit the Frog I had no thought about the resemblance, but I can see where they came up with this idea that has created such a sensation with this newly described species. I am glad that this species has ended up getting so much international attention, and in doing so it is highlighting the amazing amphibians that are native to Costa Rica and the need to continue exploring and studying the country's amazing tropical forests.

The frog was named after Brian Kubicki's mother Janet Diana Kubicki, and the Roman goddess Diana.

Source:

"Kermit the Frog Look-Alike Discovered in Costa Rica." Megan Gannon. Live Science. April 22, 2015.

#muppet facts oc #jim henson #the muppets #muppets #muppet facts #fun facts #Kermit the Frog #science #glass frogs #Brian Kubicki #Hyalinobatrachium dianae

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agendabymooner · 9 months

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the royal resemblance ! esteban o. x ofc (british princess!ofc)

summary: albertine (spencer) ocon lived to give her estranged family a heart attack by simply existing and giving birth to a daughter who looked so much like her... and her mother.

OR the youngest royal and the alpine driver had finally set their boundaries when it came to the british royal press as a way to maintain the privacy that they had managed to preserve throughout their years of relationship and marriage.

content warning: use of explicit language, princess ofc with a lack of princess manner (aka being more upfront), dad!estie x mom!ofc, fluff?? fictional news articles + posts

note: i need to post this otherwise my storage will continue to be full as hell 🤡

masterlist

THE FAST LANE DAILY

PRINCESS ALBERTINE MAKES GRAND ENTRANCE AT STATE BANQUET, WEARING DIANA-INSPIRED ATTIRE

london, uk - in a stunning display of elegance and style, princess albertine, the youngest daughter of king charles iii, attended the highly anticipated state banquet alongside her husband, french formula one alpine driver esteban ocon. the event marked the first time the couple appeared together as a married couple, capturing the attention of the media and royal enthusiasts alike.

princess albertine, born in 1996, has had a unique journey within the royal family. her custody was passed to her maternal grandmother and eventually to her uncle, leading her to distance herself from her royal title. instead, she chose to use the surname spencer, a nod to her mother's family. however, after tying the knot with ocon, she decided to adopt his surname, solidifying their union.

the british media had been eagerly awaiting a glimpse into the couple's private life, but it was not until three months after their wedding that princess albertine and ocon officially announced their marriage. this secrecy only added to the intrigue surrounding their relationship.

princess albertine had previously declined offers to attend the state banquet on two occasions. however, with the assurance that her brother, prince harry, would also be in attendance, she finally accepted the invitation, making her presence known in a truly unforgettable manner.

stepping into the grand hall, princess albertine made a striking entrance, wearing a dress reminiscent of her late mother, princess diana's iconic style. her haircut, bearing a striking resemblance to diana's, caused a stir among attendees, including her father, king charles iii, and her brother, prince william, the prince of wales.

to complete her regal ensemble, princess albertine donned a breathtaking aquamarine tiara, drawing attention away from the working royals, including queen camilla. the tiara, a personal collection piece, was a gift from dodi fayed's father, who maintained a connection with albertine despite the tragic loss of both her mother and his son. complementing the tiara, she wore a set of aquamarine jewelry, including a wedding band that matched ocon's, which held sentimental value as an heirloom from diana.

the couple's appearance at the state banquet as a married couple was met with great excitement and speculation. many believe that such a rare occurrence would not have taken place had prince harry not been in attendance as well. the presence of both siblings added an air of unity and significance to the event, captivating the attention of all those present.

as princess albertine and ocon gracefully mingled with dignitaries and fellow guests, their radiant presence and homage to princess diana's legacy left a lasting impression. their appearance at the state banquet not only showcased their love and commitment but also hinted at a new chapter in the royal family's history, one that embraces change and celebrates individuality.

with their enchanting presence, princess albertine and ocon have undoubtedly left an indelible mark on the hearts of the british public, reigniting the fascination and admiration for the royal family.

THE FAST LANE DAILY

PRINCESS ALBERTINE AND ROYAL FAMILY'S PLAN FOR LIMITED NEWS COVERAGE

in a surprising turn of events, princess albertine, a member of the british royal family has expressed her lack of connection to her father, king charles iii, and her desire to lead a normal life away from the public eye. despite her lack of close relationships within the royal family, the palace has announced plans to provide limited news coverage about her and her family.

princess albertine's custody was passed to her maternal grandmother following the tragic death of her mother, diana spencer, in paris in 1997. at just one year old, she was separated from her father, resulting in a distant relationship with the royal family. her only remaining connection, prince harry, has also distanced himself from the family.

recently, princess albertine made headlines for her portrayal of her late mother, princess diana, in the popular television series, the crown. the palace remained tight-lipped about the news, while insiders expressed disappointment over the portrayal, hinting at the royal family's disapproval.

despite her strained relationship with her father, princess albertine has managed to retain her royal title, thanks to a strategic divorce between her parents shortly after her birth. this decision ensured the preservation of her legitimacy and her connection to charles' bloodline.

in a surprising twist, princess albertine secretly tied the knot with esteban ocon, a formula one driver. the couple managed to keep their marriage under wraps for three months, evading the prying eyes of the british media. this unexpected union further solidified princess albertine's desire for privacy and independence.

expressing her desire to distance herself from her family's public relations agenda, princess albertine has made it clear that she wants no involvement with the royal family. while the palace has agreed to respect her wishes, they have also stated that certain announcements will be made on her behalf. however, they have emphasized that no further details will be provided, allowing princess albertine the opportunity to discuss these matters herself.

princess albertine and her husband, esteban ocon, are not pleased with this arrangement but reluctantly agreed to the clause in order to appease the royal family. it is evident that they wish to maintain control over their own lives and decisions, free from the constraints of the palace's public relations machinery.

as princess albertine and esteban ocon navigate their newfound marriage and life together, it remains to be seen how they will handle the delicate balance between their desire for privacy and the royal family's need for limited news coverage. the world eagerly awaits any further developments from this intriguing royal couple.

THE BUCKINGHAM PALACE'S ISSUED STATEMENT - MAY 2026

THE BUCKINGHAM PALACE'S ISSUED STATEMENT - JANUARY 2027

MAY 2027

tagged albertinespencer

liked by mickschumacher, lance_stroll, pierregasly

user1 HER NAME IS DITTY I LOVE THAT SO MUCH 😭

user2 ok but who'd name their baby ditty? bffr

user3 gurl albie's cousin is literally named kitty fuck outta here 😩

user4 little albie 🤩

mickschumacher itty bitty ditty 😍 liked by estebanocon

user5 itty bitty ditty???

lance_stroll i cannot believe she had grown sooo much ugh 🥲 are you sure she's still not allowed to the paddock? liked by estebanocon

albertinespencer what's in it for the tired parents?

lance_stroll uncle lance as a date night babysitter?

albertinespencer i can take that

pierregasly i'm so excited to take her on a bicycle ride around the track liked by estebanocon

lance_stroll cool story pierre but i have a basket to put her in on our bicycle ride, what do you have? liked by estebanocon

mickschumacher that's cool but uncle mick already got a wagon in the merc garage to put her in for a ride 😎 liked by estebanocon

mercedesamgf1 mick if there's a report of a break-in in our garage we are blaming this on you- we've told you about the wagon in secret

user6 i live for the grid uncles comments

user7 she is princess d coded 👑

albertinespencer she's just cheering for her papa in here, don't mind her 🤔😍 liked by estebanocon

estebanocon my number one fans ❤️

albertinespencer once an ocon fan, always an ocon fan 💖 liked and pinned by estebanocon

charles_leclerc so glad to be there for her christening, lad! liked by estebanocon

landonorris the all-white party- so iconic liked by estebanocon

estebanocon glad you guys could make it before the pre-testing!

albertinespencer she def loves all of you!

landonorris she better- otherwise idk why i had a little mclaren car made for her

tagged estebanocon

liked by charles_leclerc, kitty.spencer, maxverstappen1

comments have been limited

maxverstappen1 she's the sweetest girl ever 😍 liked by albertinespencer

albertinespencer just say that you're glad she hasn't thrown up on you 🤣

maxverstappen1 no i'm relieved though 😅

kitty.spencer i should fly to switzerland just to spend more time with ditty 😊 liked by albertinespencer

albertinespencer please!!! it's becoming more boring without estie here 😄

kitty.spencer omw my love!!! 💖

oscarpiastri born in 31st? esteban's driver number? sheesh, a dedicated fan you've got there albie liked by albertinespencer

albertinespencer she's an absolute devotee 🤪

landonorris she's the frenchest british princess ever tbh 😕🤭 liked by albertinespencer

albertinespencer she's born in switzerland but word ig 🤠

lewishamilton sending my love in her way!!! ❤️ liked by albertinespencer

albertinespencer thank you lewis! though, you meant it in a metaphorical sense right because i just received a package of baby mercedes things in here with your name on it 🤔

lewishamilton busted 😅

alpineracingf1 lewis please ditty's dad drives for us

estebanocon i love her so much i wish i can come home and ditch the triple header 😕😭 liked by albertinespencer

albertinespencer it's not encouraged but it is an option...?

alpineracingf1 albie we still need to make you and ditty proud please don't encourage him

PS albie and estie's baby

diana marie-françois elisabeth 'ditty' ocon

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cowgurrrl · 6 months

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Angel of Small Death

Pairing: Matt Murdock x lawyer!reader

Author’s note: this may or may not turn into a series plan accordingly

Summary: Nothing seems to go your way around your college rival, Matt Murdock [3.8k]

Warnings: June didn't go to law school so take all legal talk with a grain of salt, discussions of custody cases/child abuse charges, A shitty father, mentions of the Red Room/Widows, canonical type violence, Matt Murdock being a menace to society, set in season one of Daredevil (~2014)

You're fuming when you walk into court. The familiar smug smile at the opposing table doesn't do anything to deter your anger. You slam your briefcase down on the table and stand before Judge Harlow.

"Good morning, Miss-"

"Your Honor, I find it highly inappropriate I was not informed of Mr. Parsons hiring new counsel. Not only that, but he hired new counsel three hours before our hearing today. There is no possible way for this proceeding to be fair without his counsel being adequately brought up to speed. For this reason, I am petitioning for another court date to be held so Mr. Murdock can be properly briefed about the case." Your words are cutting and exact, as you were trained to make them. In law school, your classmates rarely wanted to go against you in mock trial. Moments like this, when your frustration rises to the surface, make you realize why. The dark-haired man with red glasses clears his throat from the opposite table as he stands. It takes everything in you to remain professional.

"With all due respect, your Honor, I believe opposing counsel is just stalling. I have reviewed all the necessary documentation, and it is my fault that Mr. Parsons was pressed for time in finding new representation," Matt says. "Mr. Parsons just wants to resolve this issue as soon as possible so his daughter can be brought home safely after such a… harrowing experience with her sister."

"Ms. Parsons is currently being held without bond at Riker's on an unsubstantiated charge that has no bearing on her ability to raise Bea. This judicial hurdle is a hardship I would think Mr. Murdock would be sensitive to considering his status as a defense attorney and not a family lawyer." You retort, and Matt scoffs. You whip around to face him and find him shaking his head as his fingers flex around his cane.

"Do you consider robbery an unsubstantiated charge when it's caught on video and has multiple witnesses willing to testify to what they saw?"

"Mr. Murdock, if your father kicked you and your thirteen-year-old sister out of the house in the middle of a New York winter, how would you, at eighteen years old, handle it?"

"Order!" Judge Harlow bangs her gavel several times to get everyone's attention, and you take a deep breath. "All of your concerns have been made abundantly clear, counselors, but if Mr. Murdock says he feels prepared, I will have to believe him. However, I do apologize on behalf of Mr. Murdock's office for not properly warning you of this matter, and I trust that he and his office will not make the same mistake again. Now, can we please get on with today's matter without another outburst?"

"Yes, Your Honor," Matt says, that stupid charm dripping from his voice. You bite the inside of your cheek and summon whatever willpower you have left.

"Yes, Your Honor." You say before returning to your table and gathering the relevant documents for the day's hearing.

Robert Parsons is not the first shitty father you've had to deal with in all your years of family law. However, he might be one of the worst. Bea and Morgan's mother, Diana, died in the 2012 attack on New York. Since then, Robert, an NYPD officer, has been able to keep his emotional and physical abuse of his daughters under the radar until this winter when he kicked the girls out after he found out Bea snuck out of the house. He said he was "teaching them a lesson about discipline." Morgan, a kid herself, panicked when Bea spiked a fever and tried to steal Tylenol and some food from a local bodega. A fight broke out between Morgan and the cashier, and the police (her dad) were called. You've been trying to help them since Megan came to you at sixteen, but the system has been working against you at every turn. It doesn't help that the NYPD doesn't protect anyone as well as they protect their own.

So, the fact that the asshole changed counsel three hours before one of the most important custody hearings of your entire year was enough to make your blood boil. The fact that the person representing him is none other than your law school rival, Matt Murdock, made you want to scream. Matt Murdock: Columbia's golden boy, a childhood hero who sacrificed his vision to save an old man's life, Battlin' Jack's son (RE: orphan), the guy who made all the girls in your classes swoon, the guy who told you that family law was a waste of your time. "You just wanna deal with whiny kids all day?" He asked you when you got your internship at one of the top family law firms in the city. For a kid who grew up in an orphanage, you would think he'd have a little more compassion for people who deal with "whiny kids."

It doesn't matter because that was years ago, and you've since worked your way up the ladder to become one of the state's best, most aggressive family lawyers. People come from all over just to get you to represent them against abusive ex-husbands or piss-poor foster parents. You do good work. You know you do. You also know that Matt does, too. You've kept up with him since he graduated, mainly to compare career tracks and see if the days of winning smiles and perfect dark hair would ever end, but of course, it hasn't. Being on his own time in his own law firm suits him, and you hate that it does.

Maybe that's why you show him absolutely no mercy in the court proceedings. You pull every piece of evidence you have that shows neglect, abuse, or even just a smidgen of the mental anguish he's put those girls through. Matt quickly and impressively pivots and challenges that this is not a criminal court and you're going above and beyond what's necessary. You argue about where Bea should go for about fifteen minutes while the custody arrangement is still in the air. You contest that Bea should go upstate with her maternal grandmother, Susan, while Matt says she should go back with her father after the emotional distress of Morgan's arrest.

"Do you honestly believe the best thing for a child undergoing such stress is to move her miles away from the only home she's ever known?" Matt asks incredulously, cocking his head in your direction. You narrow your eyes at him even though you know he can't see you and square your shoulders.

"No, but being away from the man with child abuse charges pending might."

"Mr. Parsons is ready and willing to testify in a court of law that Morgan ran off with her sister in the middle of the night, and he was deploying his squadron to help locate the missing children. However, we aren't here to talk about that. We're here to talk about the safest place for Bea, which could later unfold into where she lives permanently until she becomes a legal adult. Do you really feel comfortable enlisting an elderly woman in the care of a rowdy teenager?"

"Thank you, Mr. Murdock, for the reminder of what today's hearing is actually about. I would've worried you were too ready to treat Mr. Parsons as a defendant." You snap, and Judge Harlow calls to order again. You exhale long through your nose and turn to face her.

"While I appreciate your passion for this case, I encourage you two to find it within yourselves to keep these proceedings as professional as possible," she says. You recognize the tone. It's legalese for "shut the fuck up before you give me a reason to kick you out of my courtroom." "Beatrice Parsons will stay in her current foster home with supervised visits from her grandmother, Susan Kelsey. Given the emotional state of the child, I will not be releasing visitation time to the father until we see an improvement."

"And Ms. Parsons, Your Honor? Will she be allowed to visit Bea upon her release?" You ask.

"That is a matter we can revisit upon Ms. Parsons' release from Riker's. Until then, the only allowed contact with the child is her grandmother and the legal teams. We'll reconvene next Monday morning. Court is adjourned." With that, she bangs her gavel, and you're left reeling. Matt and Robert whisper to each other as you gather your paperwork and pack it away again. Your phone buzzes in your jacket, reminding you that you have to meet with another family regarding another custody agreement in two hours. You sigh and quickly make for the door when Matt and Robert start standing from their table.

You're halfway to the elevator when you hear your name and reluctantly turn around. "Shit," you mumble as Matt taps his cane down the hallway. Thank God Robert is nowhere in sight, and you plaster on a fake smile for potential onlookers. "Mr. Murdock, how can I help you?"

"Well, I was hoping you could hold the elevator for me," he says. "And maybe we could strike a deal on our way down." You chuckle at his confidence and white knuckle the handles of your briefcase.

"I don't think we could agree on anything within a thirty-second elevator ride, but I appreciate your enthusiasm."

"Really? Not even where I can buy you a coffee?" He asks as the elevator dings down the hallway.

"Unfortunately not. I have another client meeting soon. I would've expected a man with his own practice to have similar meetings today, but I guess I was mistaken?" You say as you walk to the elevator. Matt follows suit, laughing at the dig. You press the button for the lobby, and the doors shut, and for a second, it's silent in the elevator. Years of competition and hate linger in the air.

"I've gotta say, I'm impressed with you." He says in a low voice like it's a secret, and you turn to look at him. "Yeah. It's really hard in this line of work to make quite as many enemies as you have."

"It's not that hard to piss people off when you say they shouldn't have custody of their kids. Just like I'm sure people get pissed at you when you defend murderers."

"I don't defend murderers."

"Oh, Karen Page wasn't a murderer?" The name makes him still next to you as the doors finally open. "See you next Monday, Murdock." You say as you step out of the elevator, leaving Matt in the dust.

For the next week, you bounce between client meetings, hearings, mediations, visits to Morgan in Riker's, and late nights in the office, trying to find a way to take down Parsons and get Morgan out of jail. You would think being the daughter of a cop would be better in this kind of situation. You try to pull every string you can find, milk every connection, and almost beg any defense attorney you can corner for long enough. Still, Morgan remains in Riker's the night before the next hearing, and you're exhausted.

Your phone rings that night, and you try not to make a habit of answering work calls outside of your normal hours, but the unrecognized number is too tempting to not pick up. "Let's make a deal," Matt says before you can even get out a proper greeting. You scoff and tuck your phone between your ear and shoulder as you close your curtains.

"Make it worth my time, Murdock. I answered your call on a Sunday night before court."

"I'm willing to defend Morgan in court and get her out of Riker's by the end of the week," he says. You're about to argue that it's a conflict of interest, that if he'd paid attention in the first semester classes of law school, he would've known that, but he beats you to it. "If you agree to drop this case and get Bea home."

"You're asking me to drop charges of child abuse and reckless endangerment of a minor."

"No, I'm asking you to drop the custody portion for now. The child abuse and endangerment charges will move onto criminal court, but that trial will be a waste of time if you don't have a witness like Morgan." He says. It's true. Even though Morgan is beyond the statute of limitations, Bea isn't. Jurors will be sympathetic to a victim but not a criminal. "No one else is gonna help her, and I'd much rather defend her than her father."

"So, what happens if Bea goes back and he beats the shit out of her?" You ask as your phone beeps with another notification. Matt starts a long ramble, but you're not fully listening. "Matt, I have another call coming in. Can we talk about this later?" You don't wait for a response. You just end the call and quickly press the red notification, a crackly voice coming in on the other end.

"And you're sure that's the right amount?" Parsons asks, oblivious to your listening, and someone chuckles in response.

"That is typically the starting payment," you recognize the accent and glance around your apartment, trying to come up with a plan. "Now, if you keep up the flow, we can discuss upping the payment."

"That shouldn't be a problem. It'll be smooth sailing once I get my kids out of the way. You can tell Mr. Dreykov that."

It's cold. Even under all your layers and your gear, it's cold. The city moves like a living beast all around you, its inhabitants oblivious to you hiding on a rooftop with a gun. It's been two hours since that phone call, and Parsons still isn't home. The call ended within a minute of the notification buzzing on your phone, but they didn't make any plans to meet up anywhere. And why would they if their business together is riding on the results of this custody case? You sigh, your mask pushing the air right back at you, as you sit back on your heels and glance at the night sky.

It's rare that you can ever see stars in New York, but sometimes, if you squint, you can catch little glimpses. You struggle to focus on constellations with the screeching of subway brakes and loud horns penetrating the otherwise peaceful night. You've been doing this for a long enough time that you no longer stress yourself out about things like this. It's work. It's what you're supposed to do, and you get away with it. With all the other masked idiots running around the city— not limited to The Masked Idiots that moved upstate after Stark Tower was destroyed— and the gangs, police are never able to track where bullets are coming from. If they happen to, it's just another job to finish. Not a big deal.

You look to Parson's apartment again and find it still dark and empty. It isn't until you go to adjust the scope that something shuffles behind you, and by that point, it's too late to stop the arms from wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you backward. You throw your head back until you hit something hard, and the grip on you falters enough for you to slip out. There's a mess of punches, kicks, and elbows thrown as you try to get away from your attacker, but with every movement, they seem to anticipate it before you do. It isn't long before you're pinned to a brick wall, too far from your gun, with a gloved hand wrapped around your throat.

"Why are you targeting him?" A deep voice asks above you, and you kick your feet under you, trying to get the upper hand, but he's too strong. His grip on your throat tightens, and you gasp for air. "Last chance." He threatens, and your head swims with no oxygen.

"The recording," you croak. His hand loosens around your windpipe just enough for you to get more information out. "Listen to the recording. On the phone." He drops you as fast as he grabbed you, and you collapse to the ground in a heap of heavy breaths and gasps. You can hear an old, familiar voice in your head calling you pathetic and weak, but you ignore it to focus on getting breath in your lungs.

"This is your phone?" The voice asks as he holds up your burner flip phone from 2007, and you scoff.

"Didn't realize I'd be interrogated for my choices in cellphones," you manage, and you imagine the eye roll rather than see it through the red of his mask. You've seen pictures of him before. You've read the articles calling him a vigilante, a wanna-be Avenger, a menace to society. You know him. He stares at you (through you?) carefully as he puts the phone to his ear and listens to the most recent recording from Parson's phone call. You wait for the muscle in his jaw to clench and unclench before pulling yourself to your feet and walking over to him. You take it as a good sign that he doesn't try to throw you off the building for moving and get close enough to him to make out the faint stubble on his square jaw.

"Parson's trafficking girls?" He asks, more to himself than anything, and you nod. "How'd you know about this?"

"Parson's been receiving huge payouts from off-shore accounts for a few years. All it took was tapping the big mouth's phone to figure out who he was talking to and about what," you explain as you open your hand to ask for your phone back. He obliges, but not without a dramatic sigh. "Y'know, I thought you would've had a better idea of what goes on in the city, Devil Boy."

"How has this not been flagged by anyone else?" He ignores your jab, much to your dismay.

"The Red Room has informants and Widows in almost every functional part of society. If they want something to stay quiet, they'll find a way."

"I thought Romanoff exposed them."

"Deykov made it impossible to cut ties with the Red Room and other Widows for years. Somehow, Romanoff got out. Barely, but she made it out. There's no way she'd do anything to piss them off now. Not when she's gotten this far," you say. "As far as the public knows, Black Widow is an Avenger and nothing more."

"You got out."

"I'm not a Widow."

"No?" He asks, and you shake your head. "So, you just had a military-grade weapon and tactical gear lying around?"

"Can't a girl take herself on a shopping spree?" You ask, not willing to justify him with a real answer. The rooftop goes quiet as you think about what the next step is.

"You don't have to kill him." He says softly, like he's anticipating your reaction. You bite the inside of your cheek and turn to him, annoyance building in your stomach.

"What did you just say to me?"

"I know you want him to suffer, and trust me, he will, but if you want things to change, you need to get information from him. To get information from him, he needs to stay alive."

"What are you? A fucking altar boy?"

"Those girls don't get justice if you kill him."

"Justice," you laugh. "He gets to kidnap, torture, and brainwash little girls, and I'm supposed to just let him rot in prison? Is that justice to you, Red?" He's silent, and you shake your head. "Yeah, I didn't think so." You're about to turn back to your gun and find a way to make him leave you alone when three police cars go speeding down the street behind an FDNY truck. They're speeding and more urgent in their driving than you've seen in a long time. A rogue thought pricks at the corner of your brain, and you mumble a curse.

Quickly, you open your phone and jam a few buttons until the sound of a police scanner comes through the shitty speakers. "Explosion reported at the corner of Ninth Ave and West 42nd. Multiple casualties have already been reported by people at the scene," a voice reports on the other line, and you hold your breath. "Officer Robert Parsons was reportedly inside the bar when the gas line blew, and he is assumed dead."

The first thing you do when you get to the office in the morning is file an emergency petition to assign temporary custody of Bea to her grandmother. You're almost positive it'll get approved, considering how there's no one else involved in this custody case. Now free from his obligation to Robert, Matt sent you an email early this morning saying he would defend Morgan in court. You didn't respond. There are too many moving parts to focus on to care about responding to a pity representation in court.

Robert was talking to somebody from the Red Room not even four hours before he died in a fiery explosion. FDNY ruled it as an accident, but you know better. Did he blabber to someone on the force about the off-shore accounts? Did Dreykov's men just finally decide he wasn't worth all the trouble anymore? Did they find out you tapped his phone? If they did, it's only a matter of time before someone finds you. All the hairs on the back of your neck stand up as you stare at the blinking cursor on your computer screen. Your secretary, Margaret, saying your name makes you jump harder than it should've.

"Oh! Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." She says in all her midwestern politeness, and you shake your head.

"I'm just a little jumpy this morning. Didn't get a lot of sleep last night." You wave her off, and she raises her eyebrows at you sympathetically.

"D'you want me to go get you a coffee?"

"No, thank you. I probably need to lay off coffee for a few hours," you sigh. "Did you need something from me?"

"Oh, yes. Someone called and left you a message... A Matt Murdock?" She says like she's hoping you'll recognize the name, and you nod.

"What'd he say?"

"He wanted to meet with you for lunch to discuss something. He didn't say what." Fucking Matt Murdock, you think. Finding a way to wiggle back into your life just because of one stupid case. "I can tell him no if you want me to."

"No, it's okay. I'll meet with him. We have some unfinished business together." You say, and she leaves to confirm lunch plans with Matt's office. You take a sip of your water, and your throat screams in pain from Devil Boy nearly choking you to death. The reminder that he knew about Parson's involvement with the Red Room before disappearing into the night makes your skin crawl. Another loose end to tie up at another time. Still, your head pounds with all the swirling information and the knowledge that there's no way you'll be getting rid of Matt Murdock anytime soon. "Shit."

#matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x reader #daredevil x reader #daredevil fic #matt murdock fic #matt murdock #mcu fic #i wrote this for me but you can read it too i guess

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haru-natsuka · 10 days

Text

The fate (Anastacius x Female Reader x Claude)

Chapter 5 : The Mistress's Child

It was normal for a wife to hate her husband mistress and their child, but for her, the mistress was the person who had treated her fairly instead of the husband. When the latter died during childbirth, the wife pledged to herself to raise her child with care and love, giving the child the affection and treatment she deserved but had been deprived of...

Female reader will be named as Celestial

As always, Celestial hid behind a pillar to oversee a certain little girl who was approaching the Emerald Palace. She had observed the princess and noticed that she resembled Claude when he was a child, and there were no evident traces of Diana's characteristics except for her curiosity, similar to the latter and yet a lot of people did claimed the princess followed her mother features more. However, the princess did not take any precautions or seem concerned about the risks of being at the Emerald Palace, despite it being a place only for the Empress and the Emperor. Did she not feel scared if she accidentally met the emperor who had ignored her own mother?

Athanasia, a name that Diana bestowed on her own daughter before her passing from childbirth, also became the name that Claude used mockingly, being aware of its meaning as immortality. As if she was begging Claude to not kill their child. But, the crown prince had grown distant from Diana, not taking her feelings into consideration and only seeking for himself. And so, as Claude claimed to have lost a lot and could not bear to lose any more. Then, if he killed his only child, would he did not do anything except for losing some more? Celestial had lost her freedom because of Athanasia and Diana, but still she could not help but worry about the princess' fate.

"I am willing to do anything of your choice. I will support you with all my strength. I will be a good wife in exchange for saving the life of a child who was born innocent and free of sin. I beg you to have mercy and spare her, Claude. She is a pure being who only needs to be protected,"

Celestial pleaded as she hoped for the princess' safety. She could not help but feel the sense of urgency to protect Athanasia who was motherless and help Claude understand that this would be the right thing to do.

Celestial, despite having not bowed before anyone in her life, was now kneeling on the floor before her egoistic, monstrous husband. She lay her forehead on the ground in order to plead with the emperor to spare the princess' child from being killed. The scent of blood and corpses was overpowering and unpleasant, but Celestial remained to make sure that the innocent princess was protected. She could not risk it, having the sense of urgency to protect the pure and precious life of a child, despite her hatred for Claude. She had to save Athanasia with her very life.

Celestial refused to look at her husband, knowing that he was looking at her with hatred and anger. The surroundings were tense, due to the emperor's anger and the tense situation at hand. Knowing Claude, Celestial was fully prepared to sacrifice her own life to protect Diana's child, which she held so dearly. The mistress of her husband, Diana, was a kind person who was by Celestial's side when her husband neglected her and mistreated her. Because of her deep care and affection for Diana, she would go to any lengths and give her life to save Diana's child.

"Her name. Tell me,"

Claude ordered coldly, increasing the tension in the room and causing Lily to tremble in fear. She was desperate for her life and the newborn baby too. As they were the only ones alive amongst the sea of corpses, the Emperor's focus was firmly upon them. Lily was so terrified that she began to speak, answering his question with all her might, hoping that this will appease him and spare her life.

"Athanasia, Your Majesty," was the answer she gave, hoping that it was enough to keep her alive.

"Amusing. I wonder how long this thing can live in accordance to its name." Claude, upon hearing the response from the maid, chuckled madly and turned around to left the room without a second thought. He did not bother to look back, and in a stern tone to regard his wife. Knowing that Celestial gave him an offer to let the princess live, Claude finally agreed to this in turn for her devotion. He seemed to be satisfied by this outcome as he got to chain his wife by his side as long as he desired.

"And I would take your offer to me to let that filthy thing live"

While the palace was full of tension and conflict, it seemed that Athanasia enjoyed her time there. The little girl, having turned five years old this year, felt like a big girl as she was actively engaging in thievery of the palace decoration. The empress, could not help but notice her efforts to steal some decorations from the palace. In fact, she was so exposed in her position that anyone could locate her. Celestial, noticing her acts, tried hard to conceal her laughter, for she felt joy looking at the little princess engaging in such antics.

"I never know our guards are this incompetent that a thief can trespass into the main palace?"

Athanasia was caught off guard by a voice behind her. She then turned around, adorably showing of her doe eyes as she stared pleadingly at Celestial, who had witnessed her multiple times committing such sinful acts. Knowing that Celestial was aware of her daily activities, she hoped for her mercy and tried to gain sympathy by looking appealing and cute to her. However, Celestial had already grown accustomed to her thievery and antics, and the fact that Athanasia had gained a large collection of stolen items in her pockets had become a routine matter for both of them which the empress gave her full support for the girl. Let's make the palace be poor!

"Auntie, please don't tell anyone. Athy will give you my precious chocolate. Please keep this a secret," the little girl begged Celestial, referring to her as 'auntie' as she never know the true identity of the woman who she had met since a week ago.

"Is it the chocolate that you steal from the kitchen?"

"It already in my hands so it is Athy's!"

"You're funny. Am I not giving you enough jewels yesterday?"

"Athy just love pretty stuff so much that Athy wants it to be mine! Auntie is pretty too! Athy loves your hair and your eyes the most. Athy loves Auntie the most!"

Celestial knew the princess wanted her to keep her thievery a secret, but it was fun for her to tease Athanasia from time to time. In a way, being with this little girl had brought life to Celestial's darkened world, and she was glad to spend proper time with someone who was open and honest in their thoughts. She knew that the princess was a little wild at times, but it was far more enjoyable to speak to someone who was sincere and innocent compared to communicating with an adult with hidden agendas.

"Athy, I have a present for you for visiting me again, please extend your hand to me," Celestial told the little princess, who was more than happy to accept the gift.

"Is it bigger and sparkly than yesterday?" Athanasia asked with excitement, clearly expecting a magnificent gift as she had gained many trinkets from her previous visits.

"It is better than yesterday, Athy," Celestial replied with a smile, indicating that the gift would be better than what she had given Athanasia the day before. She gave the princess a little pouch, which she took in her hands curiously.

"It's not a jewel or gold?"

"Open it. I assure you will love it a lot"

Athanasia, the little girl from the royal family, opened the pouch with a sense of doubt, as she had certain expectations when it came to gifts such as this. She considered only gold and jewels to be worthy gifts to receive, as they were the only things she deemed to be invaluable for her future. The princess was not easy to please when it came to gifts, for these precious items were crucial for her future, and she wished to find out whether her expectations would be met.

Athanasia, the princess, was overjoyed when she opened the pouch and discovered that there were endless amounts of gold and jewels inside. She was overwhelmed with joy at the sight of the precious items and was amazed at the seemingly endless space inside the pouch. She was thrilled by the knowledge that she would no longer have to struggle with hiding the items she had stolen, for the pouch's space could hold everything with no one being able to notice. She thought that the gifts that she had been given were more than worthwhile, for they had truly exceeded her expectations.

"It is a limitless space inside the pouch so after this, you can put everything inside the pouch instead of your pocket. No one will notice if you steal anything more after this"

"Athy loves it! Thank you, Auntie!"

The princess hugged Celestial and gave her thighs a tight hug, as a way to show her appreciation for the gift she had just given. Celestial, in turn, also enjoyed the hug for it was a way of bonding and communicating with the little princess. She would also look forward to more future interactions, for the time she had spent with Athanasia had been an important and precious experience for both of them.

"I'm glad that you love it" She caressed the little girl hair gingerly to return her action. Celestial and Athanasia were in their own pleasant world, being completely unaware of the presence of the two individuals approaching them. However, they were soon pulled back from their dreamy moments when they heard a loud voice coming from somewhere nearby. It seemed that the princess and Celestial were not the only ones in the room, for two individuals had arrived and spotted them from a distance.

"What is this filthy bug doing in my palace?" The two girls turned to face the source of the voice, curious to see who had spoken out in such a way. It was non other than the emperor, Claude De Alger Obelia

@fluffy-koalala

Chapter 4 << Previous, Next >> Chapter 6

#anastacius de alger obelia #anastacius x reader #claude de alger obelia #claude x reader #wmmap #wmmap fanfic #wmmap anastacius #romance #who made me a princess #wmmap x reader #wmmap claude #manhwa #manhwa x reader #wmmap athanasia

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eviesaurusrex · 2 years

Text

ᴘʀᴏʟᴏɢᴜᴇ

Harry Styles x British Royal!Reader

Her Royal Highness Princess YN, daughter to Prince Charles and late Princess Diana, Prince and Princess of Wales, younger sister to Prince William, Duke of Cambridge, and Prince Harry, Duke of Sussex, and granddaughter to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II and His Royal Highness Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh would’ve never thought to meet Harry Styles by accident—by literally running into him. And Harry Styles would’ve never thought to meet the Princess of England again after that seemingly fateful afternoon.

faceclaim: Saoirse Ronan

author’s note: I’m really super excited for this one, but please bear with me if I don’t get the titles right. I’m still putting more knowledge into my head about it! This work is pure fiction and entirely self-indulgent on my behalf.

series masterlist » ch. 1 is here!

;

theroyalfamily Happy 27th Birthday Princess YN! 🎂

📸 Chris Jackson (chrisjacksongetty) and the Duke of Sussex, earlier this month.

Liked by ynismyqueen, yourfan1, hsfan1, royalistsbitch, mrsamclaflin, gemmastyles, and 986,351 others | 334,009 comments

hsfan1 It’s Her Highness’s birthday AND Fine Line got released today - this is the best day of my life. Happy Birthday!

ynismyqueen HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MY QUEEN

yourfan1 Happy Birthday, Your Highness!

yourfan2 She looks SO stunning! Happy Birthday, YN!

yourfan3 How is it possible that she looks so much like her mother 🥺 Happy Birthday, princess ❤️

↳ dianaforever right? I thought the same, especially while I looked through the older pictures and the more recent ones. Diana’s genes really said “Excuse me, that’s my spot” while creating this angel of a woman 🥺

liked by yourfan3, yourfan1, hsfan1, and royalistsbitch

↳ yourfan3 Totally 🥹

hsfan2 Fine Line release, Gemma liked this post, what a day. Now I’m waiting for Harry to like this one too, so my shipper-brain can go into a frenzy 💀

liked by hsfan1 and hsfan3

mrsamclaflin I wish you a very Happy Birthday, Your Royal Highness 🎂

↳ everyonesfan And there he is! Like always: on time ❤️

liked by mrsamclaflin, yourfan1, and yourfan2

↳ mrsamclaflin Of course!

liked by everyonesfan and yourfan3

royalistsbitch Can you marry me, my princess? 🥺😮‍💨 HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

;

The morning of her birthday was always a hectic matter. One could easily mistake this particular day for the birthday of the Queen herself, but in reality, it was only the result of a family who deeply adores the youngest child of Prince Charles and Princess Diana. But the royal protocol was still in place—not even the Princess of England could change that on her special day. That’s why her entire day was strictly and thoroughly planned, except for a few hours in the morning after her Lady of the Bedchamber had woken the princess to begin the day. Her Mistress of the Robes had already hung the several cautiously put-together outfits at the beautifully crafted screen separating the space in front of the closet from the rest of the dressing room. One look at them, and the princess sighed deeply after crawling out under the thick blankets dominating the comfortable bed. The outfits were nice, of course, but the meaning behind two out of the three meant official duties because, after twenty-six years inside this family, she knew how to figure out her day at the sight of clothing pieces. At least one piece each was in her favorite color, even though the entire attire reminded her of her Granny.

Another sigh left the princess, but the one present thought—I want to go back to bed—vanished at the prospect of a beautiful winter day with blue sky, fluffy, sheep-like clouds, and the sun shining down on busy London. Leaning against the wall next to the grand windows stretching from almost the floor up to two-thirds of the high ceiling, YN looked out of it, straight onto the usually beautiful garden, but now all she saw was bare trees and brown grass. Her face immediately showed the displeasure at the sight. She loved Kensington, she really did, but the winter-y gloom made everything dull and unpleasant. Even though she was born in December, YN most definitely wasn’t a winter child—she preferred spring and summer over anything else.

The soft knock at the French door leading into her apartment let YN turn around with a grin. “Come in!” Her voice traveled towards the waiting party of three men in front of her humble home, and after one of the doors got opened, a head with tousled red hair peeked inside. As soon as his eyes fell onto the youngest Mountbatten-Windsor of the trio, his lips stretched into a wide grin. “There she is! Our birthday girl,” he exclaimed and pushed the door wide open to reveal a smiling William and an as bright as his sons smiling Charles.

Harry looked at the other two expectantly after his father had closed the door, and moving his arms in a counting manner, the younger prince started to count. “And one, two, three…” Suddenly the three men began to sing.

“Happy Birthday to You

Happy Birthday to You

Happy Birthday Dear YN

Happy Birthday to You!”

Grinning and chuckling, YN clapped excitedly, face beaming with utmost joy. She jumped into her eldest brother’s arms and hugged him close as he kissed her head softly. “Happy Birthday, sunshine,” he wished her, and the woman kissed his cheek. “Thank you, old man,” she returned with a grin while William only rolled his eyes.

Harry grinned as brightly and wide as she did, passing the cupcake with the already lit candle and an envelope with a massive bow to William before hugging her close and lifting her off the ground, her feet dangling under her dark blue robe in the air. “Happy Birthday, jellybean.” YN pressed her lips to his bearded cheek and grinned even wider. “Did you plan this little get-together?” The middle child of them nodded proudly. “You can bet on it. Dear Willy over there tried to talk me out of it because he thought you’d be sleeping in. I told him it would be bollocks because you, dear sister, never stop working.” William scoffed, and they both turned to him. “Excuse me and my assumptions that someone would let her sleep in on her special day.” Charles laughed softly behind his hand before opening his arms and wrapping his youngest child into a loving hug. “You know how it goes, boys,” he told the two princes and gently kissed YN's forehead. “Happy Birthday, sweetheart,” he wished her and kissed her forehead another time. “Thank you, papa,” YN spoke silently and nuzzled into the warm embrace.

Ever since returning from Oxford, the father-daughter duo had spent less time than usual together because they had been both busier than normal. With her degrees in Politics and International Relations and Literature—the latter had been her choice of study—she suddenly had sort of acquired a new status within the Royal Family. She had tended to her charitable work but had also spent more time with the reception of political figures and had pushed herself into a new field of charities: political education among the students in their country. And Charles had attended his appointments and public functions as Prince of Wales.

It was good to feel his hug again. It had always been one the safest places on earth for the princess.

William cleared his throat to continue with the program in the form of cake and presents. Well, a cupcake and one present. The rest would have to wait until YN’s duties were fulfilled and the entire family would come together. The planned dinner would be the grandest in a long time.

“So, we put our heads together for this present, and it was the only thing we could come up with because everything else was already stolen by the rest of the lot—and Harry over there can call himself lucky for coming up with at least one idea,” William explained while holding the envelope up, but Harry swatted his hand and took the plate with the cupcake in his own hands. “Will you let her at least blow the candle and wish for something before you jump directly to the next point on the list? Thank you very much. And thanks for the hit. Welcome to the Sleep Deprivation Society, my ass.” Shaking his head in exaggeration—William only laughed under his breath while Charles threw his two sons' scolding looks— the redhead held the cupcake right in front of her face, the purple and white swirled candle still with a flame on top of it. “Go on, jellybean,” he smiled down at the blonde woman, and YN closed her eyes before blowing the candle out, and the men started to clap.

Smiling, she opened them again and clapped both hands. “You were saying something about this envelope, Will?” Excitement was clearly visible in her bright eyes and the eldest chuckled before passing it to her. “It’s from all three of us.” Nodding, she grinned at every man in their small round. “Thank you,” she already said, and Harry rolled his eyes. “Open it first before thanking us,” he teased her, and with a breathless bit to her lower lip, YN opened the envelope with much more force than needed and let the paper slowly fall to the carpet under her bare feet.

Her eyes widened as soon as they realized what she held in her hands, and with a squeal, the princess started to jump up and down. “It is… it is…” She couldn’t bring the sentence to an end, too overwhelmed and excited to utter a coherent one. The brothers and the father exchanged proud looks before turning back to the still-squealing princess. “You really got me a ticket for Harry Styles?!” YN still couldn’t believe it even though she held the paper in her very own hands.

Charles softly stroked her blonde hair. “Your grandfather told me something fundamental, and that was to let you live your life. I know you miss your studies dearly, the life you had in Oxford, the freedom. That is why I will try to give this back to you, even if it’s only for a couple of hours or days at a time.” With nothing but wonder, YN stared up at her father, not knowing where all of this was coming from so suddenly. But she hadn’t to ask at the same time because she knew her grandpapa and how he wanted for every single one of them to gain a small amount of freedom back, but especially for her—the baby of the family.

It was freedom in moderation, of course, but YN had learned over the years that this was the best she could get. So she embraced the little independence she could acquire between the Royal Protocol and her family, the public eye, and her duties because she never wanted to end like her beloved mother.

Her arms wrapped around the older man and held him close. “Thank you, papa,” she whispered into the soft cotton of his vest and felt his hand stroking her back. “Not for this, sweetheart. Not for wanting a piece of normality in your life.”

;

vogue_uk We had the utmost honor to interview Her Royal Highness, Princess YN. We talked about the life of a “modern” princess, how life in Buckingham Palace has shaped her and her interests, and we even tickled out the answer to our question about which of her Christmas presents she loved the most—and which member of the Royal Family had gifted it.

Click the link in our bio to see|read the full interview with Princess YN!

PS: The Princess of England is funnier than most people.

Liked by hsfan1, yourfan1, ynismyqueen, royalistsbitch, gemmastyles, and 879,774 others | 258,691 comments

vogue_uk “I will probably shock the world in its very foundations with this answer, but my most loved present this year was by far the Fine Line vinyl Will [His Royal Highness, Prince William] gifted me—the gorgeous limited edition, you know which one, don’t you? The stunning black and white? Yes, exactly this one. Now everyone probably will ask themselves, ‘Why didn’t she buy it herself on the release day?’ Well, for that, you have to understand our family traditions: We swore an oath never to buy the things we like to have about which we already have talked in the past, so no one will feel the embarrassment of a mediocre excited face on Christmas Morning because one already got it themself. It’s the most horrendous feeling in existence—well, during Christmas and birthdays, at least.”

ynandharryshipper The princess probably woke up the morning of the interview and thought to herself, “I wanna see this internet burn,” and then casually proceeded with her plan😮‍💨

↳ yourfan1 Totally 😂

hsfan1 Did YN, the Princess of England, seriously tell the world that she loves Harry Styles??????? I never expected to admire and love one of the Royals, but here we go.

ynismyqueen “The album has run on repeat ever since Christmas Morning. Granny [Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth II] told Grandpapa [His Royal Highness, Prince Philip] to find her some earplugs. Not because she dislikes Mr. Styles’ voice, but because she rather prefers not to have to throw the turntable out of Balmoral—she doesn’t like to hear things in a loop. She is very happy now that I’ve returned to Kensington [Palace], and I am happy that I can hear Fine Line now on full volume.” - She is such a mood :D

↳ hsfan2 Damn, this woman really said I am a Harrie and proud of it! 😩

royalistsbitch Can we quickly talk about how bloody authentic she is??? She is definitely the most down-to-earth royal of the lot 😍

↳ yourfan2 +1! Directly followed by Kate!

liked by royalistsbitch

dailymail Harry Styles is back in the UK!

Singer-songwriter Harry Styles is back in London after recording—and releasing—his new album Fine Line in his Californian home. Styles interacted with his fans on his way to the BBC Radio 1 studio for an interview about his new album and plans for upcoming events and tours.

Liked by hsfan1, hsfan2, hsfan3, ynismyqueen, sunflowerbutterfly, and 5,613 others | 1,994 comments

hsfan1 There will be a listening WITH HIM IN THE SAME ROOM?! Where do I get that ticket????? 😭

↳ hsfan2 it’s a strictly limited amount because it’s supposed to be something more private and home-y feeling. That’s why I don’t believe I will be a lucky one, but hey, I will keep my eyes open 👀

↳ hsfan1 Oooooh, okay. Maybe it’s only for selected people, then? We’ll see!

ynismyqueen I am SO sure that YN is sucking those new pictures up like oxygen 😮‍💨

liked by hsfan1, royalistsbitch, sunflowerbutterfly, and 8 others

↳ hsfan3 I’m sure of it! He looks damn handsome (as always) and so cuddle-able ❤️

yn_and_harryshipper He looks exceptionally good today 😩 And the plaid coat??? The princess will love this 🥺

;

The ringing of her phone securely tucked onto the docking station to charge ripped YN out of her hard-working mind, and her fingers’ movements faltered atop the keyboard. With an “Alexa, please stop the music”—she was polite even to a plastic thing that could talk to her—she paused at Sunflower, Vol. 6 and picked up her phone to accept the call of her best friend.

“To what do I owe the honor of your call, Mylady?” YN greeted Meredith Brisbane, her former dorm companion in Oxford and study mate in her Literature major, with a more nasally voice than ever. The princess knew that she sounded like a character straight out of a Jane Austen novel naturally, but well, she couldn’t do much about her upbringing now.

Better to embrace and sometimes overact it a bit.

But Meredith only laughed at the other end of the call because she was definitely used to it by now. “Well, I wanted to hear if my best friend is still alive and not already drowned in work—.” At that, YN scoffed softly, eyes settling on her calendar, which was full of post-its and scribbles, and she knew with certainty that her assistant had even more events and appointments where her presence was required. Meredith hummed in understanding. “I know that sound; you don’t have to say more. And then I wanted to ask if you checked the Gram already.” The princess was now intrigued at the second question and rummaged through the stuff on her desk to find the case with her AirPods. After finding them, she popped them in and held the phone between both hands to log into her secret Instagram account faster.

It sucked that the members of the Royal Family weren’t allowed to have public and known social media accounts because she really wanted to share certain aspects with the public to finally lift the myth and stop the assumptions made by others. But after one argument over dinner with her Granny, followed by a rebuke from her and one from Camilla, she never spoke of it again in their presence. Even the staff of the official Royal Family social media accounts had a word with her over tea. Ever since YN kept her mouth shut about this particular topic and enjoyed the freedom of her little secret Instagram account with the incredible follower number of 11 people.

“What am looking fo-… nevermind!”

With wide eyes, YN stared at her feed full of a smiling Harry Styles in a blue and yellow plaid coat, sunglasses in fluffy brown locks, and the signature pearl necklace around his neck. Reading the several headlines, she knew that he was back in the UK, in London. They shared a time zone and city again, and the princess grinned like an imbecile at her screen.

Meredith’s chuckle echoed through the AirPods. “I saw them plop up one after the next and had to tell you. My friend Daniel—I told you about him, right?” YN hummed softly before she perked up. “The one working for BBC Radio?” Her best friend agreed. “Yep! He wrote me a few minutes ago that there will be a small listening event for Fine Line? Limited number of tickets, super small, one can have a conversation with him if one is lucky enough, the whole thing.” Now, YN shot up from her chair in front of the desk and stared straight out of the window, eyes even wider. “Do you know how they will get sold?” Crossing her fingers, YN hoped Mer would’ve all the answers to her biggest dream. But the sigh was answer enough. “Nope, sorry, sweets. But I will keep my eyes open and send you the link as soon as I stumble over it, ‘promise.”

And YN knew that Meredith would always keep her promises, so she sat down again and sighed deeply. “He looks so good. How is that even possible?” Propping her chin on one of her hands, the other hand still held onto the smartphone, and her thumb scrolled through every single newly released picture of Harry bloody Styles.

Plaid suits him, the princess thought with a small smile before focusing on the call again.

“I’m asking that same question every time I see a picture of you, sweets. Is it genetics? God-given? Magic? Witchcraft? Tell me all your secrets.” YN could hear the grin of her best friend through the phone. Shrugging, she leaned back in her chair. “It’s a talent,” the blonde spoke dramatically, and the two women started to laugh until their stomachs hurt.

“But seriously,” YN started again after wiping the tears from under her eyes. “He looks better every year. Though I miss the long hair One Direction era.” Those lush brown locks were a sight to behold, and she still had a poster with long-haired Harry somewhere hidden in her closet. She heard Meredith type on her laptop before she Aaaaah-d in realization. “Now I know what you mean. And yes, I have to agree. Those long hair really suited him. Maybe he would let it grow back if the Princess of England asked him personally? In a letter, maybe? With one of those fancy wax seals?” YN would like to tell her best friend that her family did not use wax seals since the last century, but she knew better. One look in the upper drawer to her left would prove her words wrong. “I don’t think he answers to desperate pleas of desperate princesses who had an unhealthy obsession with his former boy group as a teenager.” No, she didn’t suspect Harry Styles for someone who bends easily to other wills. He would never have gotten this far and been as successful as he was at such a young age if it had been different.

“Well, it’s worth a try. But hey, YNN?” The princess hummed in question while liking every single picture on her run through her feed. “Don’t work too much, yeah? I have the feeling I’m the one responsible for keeping your habits in check, and I can practically see the smoke emitting from your overworked brain till the other end of London.” YN could hear the worry in her friend’s voice, so she smiled softly. Meredith really let her feel loved and cherished without demanding the impossible. “Will do, pumpkin. I love you, you know that, don’t you?”

While waiting for an answer, the princess started to save every document she worked on today to call it a day and maybe hide in the library to reread Pride and Prejudice. She could use some romantic fairytale and a brooding Mr. Darcy—because her life most definitely wasn’t a romantic fairytale. “I know, sweets. And I love you too. We should grab dinner sometime. How about Thursday?” Grinning, YN closed her laptop and logged out of Instagram on her phone. “Sounds great. I’m open for anything as long as it’s nothing resembling seafood or some artistic bollocks I am supposed to only stare at but not eat it.” She knew that Mer grinned widely at this moment. “Please, I never take you to those fancy restaurants where you should preferably make a reservation in the last century. Nah-ah, we’re going to widen your culinary horizon of peasant food further. How about Burger King?”

;

dailymail Princess YN was spotted today with friend Meredith Brisbane in the City of London, London!

Liked by gemmastyles, yourfan1, yourfan2, royalistsbitch and 11,980 others | 5,452 comments

yourfan1 YN rocks that jacket

royalistsbitch Damn, not sure if I want to be that jacket or her best friend.

↳ ynismyqueen Having the same trouble over here.

yourfan2 I WASNT SURE IF I REALLY SAW HER BUT IT WAS REALLY HER THEN

↳ ynismyqueen YOU SAW HER????!!!

↳ yourfan2 I did! I was in the same bookshop as she and Meredith! And she had a huge stack of novels in her arms (with a lot of good titles, if I may say so) 😍

yourfan3 She gets more beautiful every day 🥹

↳ yourfan4 truuuuuuue 😮‍💨

↳ yourfan5 She is like the epitome of princess-ness ❤️

gemmastyles I am unsure if I want to be that jacket or if I want to have that jacket.

↳ hsfan1 GEMMA IS HERE!

;

“I am not sure if I want to be that jacket or if I want to have that jacket.” Gemma Styles spoke up, her phone in hands, while she sat on the couch at her mother’s house. She could hear commotion in the adjacent kitchen before her mother came into the living room, a dish towel thrown over her right shoulder. “What did you say, darling?” Anne asked and stopped behind the couch to see what her daughter had seen on her phone. Gemma pointed to the screen where Instagram was opened, and the Princess of England, wearing an oversized jeans jacket with colorful shoulders, was seen. Anne hummed and eyed the picture intently. “It suits her very well,” she decided, and Gemma nodded. “It really does! She is so effortlessly beautiful, just as Harry is. This is unfair.” Gemma sighed, and her mother chuckled. “Don’t be so harsh to yourself, love. You are just as beautiful as she is.”

The reassuring sound was interrupted by an entering Harry.

“Gemma is as beautiful as who? Me?” He grinned, and his sister rolled her eyes at his antics. “Very funny, Harold,” Gemma returned and threw a pillow in his vague direction, which he caught mid-air. “But for your information, I meant her.” And with that, his sister almost shoved the phone in his face after he had plopped down onto the couch next to the brunette. Harry got a hold of it before it fell him on the nose and stared at the familiar feed of Instagram with an even more familiar face.

His teenage crush was suddenly right in front of him again.

It was a strange feeling to see that face again after his time oversea, where news about the Royal Family was as scarce as rain in Death Valley. Well, he never was a huge fan of gossip, but her face always stood out—not because of negative headlines, quite the opposite, except that one time he could remember vividly because the entire country had been in shock.

Shaking his head, Harry tried to push those thoughts away because he was painfully aware of the stares his sister and mother gave him. Everyone in his family knew about that silly little crush of his.

“Yeah, she is gorgeous, you are gorgeous, everyone is gorgeous,” he mumbled, thoughts still not back on track. Gemma grinned at that. “Does someone still has a crush?” She almost sang the last word, and Harry nudged his laughing sister in the side until she fell to the side and landed on the decorative couch pillows. “Stop it, G. ‘S not funny.” He was almost embarrassed.

He was a worldwide known and successful 25-years old singer; he was a grown man. He shouldn’t have crushes on princesses or actresses or actors or princes. It was stupid.

His mom softly caressed his fluffy hair before bending down and pressing a kiss on his head. “It’s totally fine to have crushes, love, even if one is a grown adult.” It was as if she could read his mind, but she was his mother, after all; the one human he told everything that happened in his life. Scoffing, he slouched in the soft furniture and shrugged. “Still, I don’t know what you mean,” he tried to escape this topic by turning the tv on—but there her face was plastered over the news because, unlike the other years before, the New Year’s charity gala where she would be the main speaker was supposed to get broadcasted.

He really couldn’t escape his heavily—but foolishly—beating heart.

;

I am so excited for this small series and hope you liked the prologue! As usual: comments, reblogs, and likes are much appreciated :3

Taglist: @onecrazydirectioner

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saint-siren · 8 months

Text

A World For Her Alone | Stranger

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13

cw (chapter specific): emotional infidelity, abuse, murder, suicide, misogyny

pairing: claude x fem!reader

summary: in which Claude completely loses his head.

He opened his eyes once more to the dimness of his bedroom. His despair did not break, it lengthened like a long red string from one life to the other. His body was whole, reset again to perfect health and he knew that the ringing of his ears with the sound of an infant wailing was only an illusion. However, that reality only made things harder to bear than if there were medicine to be taken to rid himself of the noise. He laid in bed for a while longer, gazing listlessly at the sliver of sunlight that slipped through his heavy curtains. He gave himself over to the utter despondency of one who simply has no choice but to go on. That darkness was very tempting, he could give his strength over to it, he could fall backwards into it and know it would embrace him like a mother. But Claude was not so used to his helplessness, so somewhere in his mind, he held a small flicker of determination which kept him from falling completely. He had but wax wings to fly with and the sun was indeed approaching but he had some thought that he could reach you before they melted.

He set eyes on Diana yet again, and yet again with childish glee. He looked deeply into her ruby eyes and saw nothing but the blood which was still wet on the bedsheets you laid cold and lost to the world on. He thought of the violence of it, your marriage. Even still, the muddled euphoria of being in Diana’s presence raged on, desperately trying to smother everything else. The memory of you remained a cold corner in his mind, a cell to lock his inner self inside as if it would help anything. As if that was the person who needed to be contained, needed to be reminded. But he was just so disgusted with himself, from his past life and watching his current one from outside a body that no longer seemed to be his own that he needed a place to take everything. He needed someone to punish…and he had no one who would obey but himself. He had no one to blame but himself regardless of the fact that he no longer even knew who that was. A ghost perhaps, unable to rest and unable to move forward, to be better. He would always be that man who died under the sword of your knight, always the last to realize. Always too late to save you.

In the corner of his eye, casting a shadow over Diana’s eyes, he saw you stumble to the table. You were a sight that shocked his body into moving as he would if only he controlled it. He had never seen you this way, you stumbled clumsily like you were drunk but your face was harrowed and tense. Words of concern left his mouth but he knew, he knew what the truth was. For once, he knew without doubt what had been done as it unfolded. He looked into your eyes and knew.

Had you come back the same as he had?

“Where are they?” You muttered. His heart dropped. Your eyes were unfocused, forever staring at a point past both he and Diana, at an unreachable figment. He saw your chest rise and fall rapidly with your breaths. He saw your body tremble.

“Sister?” Diana called, her eyes clouding with genuine confusion and unease. Her lovely face went slack with surprise as she watched her sister mumble like a madwoman.

“Where is my child?” Words that bit a hole through his chest. He had desperately hoped that what he believed couldn't possibly be but just those words alone had consumed him completely. You confirmed the nature of this reality, the true extent of his sins. The you who had given birth to his copy, who had died knowing her husband was at the side of another woman, who had died believing he doubted her fidelity, was the same you who stood before him now.

He remembered the eyes of your daughter, those teary eyes without malice that he thought would damn him. He was wrong to think the girl was his complete copy, no, right now he felt her eyes and yours were the same. Crying for something lost, a hazy, clouded little memory. A warmth that dissipated into nothing, a weight that held them to the earth.

But the resemblance was fleeting for your eyes quickly filled with anger. You seized Diana by the shoulders and you looked into her eyes unflinchingly, although Claude’s body rose on instinct, the him within only wondered if you saw in those rosy eyes the very same thing he did.

“It wasn’t enough for you to have him, you wanted the only thing—” He didn’t let you finish, he was grabbing you and pulling you away from Diana like an animal. He felt his hand take your arm into a forbidding grasp. He could not stop, it was useless but if it were inevitable he wished to retreat inside. At very least he did not want to watch himself hurt you, not as he carried the knowledge that you had every right to go mad. Every right in the world to rage against him, rage against Diana even if in her eyes was an utter guileless that he could not deny.

“You don’t have a child yet. No one has taken anything from you.” Uselessly cruel words from a thoroughly and uselessly cruel man. They were more than lies, they were violence. He knew he was robbing you of any right to mourn the loss of a child who never had the chance to even have a name of her own. Forcing you to pretend, he was dragging you from your child just the same as death had. He was twice as forbidding as the universe, far more cruel, far more violent because unlike the universe, he knew your pain inside and out. And he watched himself wound you again.

You wilted, went limp in his grasp, your eyes went blank and confused. Your eyes were big and teary like your daughter’s were. “Please help me….I….” You muttered. He knew you were seeing her in him as you pulled away from his hold and he thinks, just for a moment, he might have been the one to soften his grip. To open his hands. It had felt like a long time since he could control his body in any meaningful way, he could no longer be certain. You were swaying on your feet, teetering away from him. He was still arrogant enough to want to comfort you, even knowing he was the source of your pain. His limbs almost trembled to hold you. To tell you that he had known your daughter too.

Instead, your knight stepped forward and gently caught you before you fell. He felt such a relief to see you caught even if his own body would not move at will. And then he felt…a sickness he could not place. “I’m afraid my lady isn’t feeling well, I’ll see her to her room” He said, without looking at Claude. He spoke informally, inconsiderately. Before he could respond, Felix was already walking away with you. A hollow hearted feeling came over him as he watched your body lean against his as if he was the only thing keeping you tethered to earth. He ought to have been relieved and the darkness that grew on him mostly felt annoyed at your outburst but it wasn’t the only thing there…his heart was sinking too. The one that was his own.

This life, despite the revelation he’d been shown, was much the same except that he was far more brazen than he’d ever been before. He came over to your parent’s manor without even hiding the fact that he only intended to see Diana. You stayed wherever you were, he wasn’t even sure you knew he was there. Your mother led him up to Diana’s room without question, not once did she utter your name. Nor did he.

Again he was shut into a shared world with Diana. Her love was like climbing ivy, it smothered and it grew until he could not see anything more. But a part of him loved the feeling so desperately, he hoped he’d never breathe again without feeling the leaves brush against his insides. He hoped her love would grow part of him, he hoped that her love would continue to be so evasive that he would feel her vines cage his lungs. The longing for her to be a fundamental part of his life was strong, so strong that he pretended it was already so. When he strode up to your parents’ doorstep, he pretended he was supposed to be there for Diana, that she was his fiancée. He did not even have to ask her to indulge this charade, she was more than happy to live in one of the romance novels that lined her bookshelf.

It did not escape his notice that you had been imprisoned in your own home. He looked toward your window each time he came over and the bars installed there remained. You did not even leave your room, he knew not whether you’d been forbidden or whether you simply did not want to see his face. The latter was the better, he thought, if you hated him then there was something to be saved. You not been entirely broken if you still had capacity to hate him for what he did. It would mean you understood his fault, it was all his fault. He would tell you as much if he was free to speak. He would say, “Give it to me, give me what pain you carry and leave it there.”

In this life, he saw you scarcely, desired you frequently. He was pulled this way and that by the high of Diana’s love and the time slowly disappeared. There was dread in the days approaching your wedding and he lived in a daze, always in a daze. This devouring thing inside made him feel bleak, numbed all his concern to nothing but the pathetic mourning for Diana. The wedding date slowly approaching was like a noose around his neck slowly tightening and he knew exactly when the platform would drop from beneath him but it did not give him peace. He could not enjoy his final moments. In other words, he was burdened on both sides.

The day your parents arrived hastily, hands clasped and eyes on the floor, informed him that you’d run away, the first thing he felt was relief. It hit him like the first burst of cold air from outdoors, it stunned him that his own consciousness was forefront for once. But before he had the time to wonder, there was more to be said.

Your mother, her eyes on the floor, had more to confess. She looked like a scolded little girl and frankly, he wanted to laugh at her until she opened her mouth. “It seems she has run away with her personal knight.” She was near choking on the words as if they made her sick.

A strange feeling came over him. A unbearable burn searing through his chest at the thought of you with Felix, alone and out of reach. But his lips curved into the barest hint of a smile, a bitter and hateful smile. “Our knights will take over the search for them.” The anger of his greater self, took him over with ease. It buried and twisted into him. It grew to a flame that cast his own consciousness into shadow. You betrayed him, you ran away with another man after promising to spend your life with another. He grabbed onto the fragments of thoughts his empowered self was too angry to finish. “How could she…” “A whore, nothing but a whore…” “If I ever see her again–”

Wherever you went, he hoped it was too far for his men to reach. He hoped you’d never be close enough for him to reach again. The darkness churned up thoughts to quell itself. Thoughts of the violence he felt owed.

In the days without you, he stewed in his own thoughts. The silver lining was being given reprieve from Diana, at least most of the time. She still sent her letters and he still answered them and enjoyed the brief moment of peace they bought him. The first letter, a hateful thing of pretty lace and ribbons, he wanted to throw out without reading but his hands worked against his own interests and he was treated to Diana’s apology. She apologized for her sister running away and disgracing him. ‘Disgrace?’ he remembered thinking. ‘Am I the one who has been disgraced?’ His fingers traced the lace decorating the letter, as he remembered what he’d accused his wife of in their very earliest life and the life directly after. Death by prison filth and deprivation, death by birthing the child of a man who left her alone. A disgrace? What did he know about being disgraced? All he knew was the very opposite.

All of these were whispers, of course. His greater self was soothed by Diana’s words, words he felt negated his responsibility. For what had he done other than be an exemplary fiancé? What did you have to be displeased with? What was he lacking that any other nobleman had? What was so bad you would run away with another man and have him made into gossip fodder? Her words fortified him, they justified his anger not as an ugly thing eating away at him but as righteous outrage. Diana was comforting him as no one had, not even your sniveling suck-up parents. She understood the value of a promise better than anyone. He held the letter up to his lips with shaking hands and he pressed a kiss to the place where her hands must have been when she pressed the ribbon into place.

The waiting for you to be found was the hardest thing for him. Perhaps if you were not found in a decent amount of time, it would be more prudent both fiscally and emotionally, to wed Diana who was also a daughter of your house. Oh, how he reveled in that thought. His mind conjured such pretty, bloodless thoughts of marriage to Diana. It almost combatted the thoughts he had about seeing you again, the words he’d bring forth to shame you in a place where you could not do anything but accept your own fault. Your indecency, your infidelity, your selfishness. The irony of his anger and his eagerness burned no one but himself, who lay paralyzed in his own mind as he settled into the fact that if you were found, he might truly have to watch himself beat you. For something he was far more guilty of, no less. He couldn’t so much as grit his teeth to express the anguish, all he could do is call upon god, the well in the sky he poured desperate wishes into.

‘Dear god, you seek to punish me, I know. But do not punish my bride, let me go hollow from missing her, from wanting to retrieve some of the person I used to be but do not hurt her to show me your wisdom. Tear me apart as you will but do not use her to do it. Let her stay lost to me.’

The sky really must have been empty, there really must have been no god to hear him, for you were found on a rainy night and brought to his mansion. Felix was dead, slain as a matter of course. A sick delight came about as he heard the report that your new lover had been killed where he stood. He heard himself speak in a low voice that suppressed none of his malice. “Let me see her, then.”

But his mother stopped him, assessing at him with serious eyes, sizing him up. “No. You’re too angry. You might do something to damage her.” She was right and the inner self rejoiced for the prolonged distance, for the fact that although his mother clearly considered you more product than woman, she would not have him harm you.

He kept you like a prisoner, sequestered to some bedroom at the center of the manor, locked from the outside and served by maids who watched you carefully as their jobs would not be spared if you were to pull the same trick again on their watch. The greater part of himself did long to look into your eyes, to feel the rage inside bloom and overflow and finally, finally allow him to release it. He nursed this hate like the phantom child he had left behind.

He allowed for one visitor, the young lady betrothed to Felix, who beseeched him. He wanted you to feel as he did. This woman who’d been forced to only partly display her mourning through plain black clothing rather than the true mourning garb of one whose loss was as great as hers, was a perfect tool for it. It was to show you who your actions hurt besides him. The extent of your selfishness brought consequences for more than just him, he wanted you to know that. He could tell you himself but showing you was all the better. If you hated him so much you’d run away short of your wedding, his emotions likely meant nothing to you. So let you have the hatred of someone else you hurt, let you see what you’ve done through the tears of a woman you’ve hurt just as badly.

The day of your wedding was a humiliation, for both of you. A farce that became the den of gossips gawking at your stiff steps down the aisle. He was relieved to know that you were the target of insult but displeased to be pitied. Still, such was worth it, if only to show a woman who seemed to think she was above having loyalty to her betrothed that you were not even above being gawked at on your wedding day like a caged animal. If he had to put up with being humiliated the inevitable moment everyone found out you fled with another man, you would put up with this. He would have his pound of flesh before you were married, before he’d have to forgive you.

Still, though he wanted your pain, he was caught between that motive and the fact that it still severely angered him that you thought you had the right to pity yourself. When he saw tears in your eyes as you reached the altar, he snapped at you in a whisper. Why were you of all people crying? If anything, it should have been him. You did this, what right had you to cry about it now? In the time you were far from home, living with that knight, what had you done together? Living in the squalor among commoners, had you found some pleasure in that? He had no choice now except to marry a woman who ran about with another man short of their wedding.

Claude rejected the notion of your culpability, but that didn’t matter when the loudest voice within his mind did not belong to him. He knew he had no right to be jealous and bitter as he was, he knew it was ludicrous for him to act like you were the one to betray him as if he wasn’t always alone with your sister, coming to visit her while neglecting you. Never mind the fact that he knew what you had lost, what he had stolen from you. But what did knowing that do? All that mattered to this darkness above him was that you existed and therefore had sinned. The more he pondered this thing which plagued him, the more hopeless he understood his situation to be. This thing, this darkness, its separation from his true self only mattered to him at this point. All you could see was a cruel husband, a man who hated you, who would leave you to die alone. Did it matter if there was more to him, if all he could show you was the most hateful part of him? It might not have been his true self that tormented you for so long but…they shared one body and it was still his hands that dripped with your blood.

When he woke one morning and his consciousness had swam up to the surface of his mind, allowing him to control his own body for the first time in ages, he knew that something was wrong. He felt it in the pit of his stomach, in the quiet of his room with the faded rays of sun reaching through the curtains after a stormy night. The moment he realized he was free, he went to your room still wearing his pajamas, his hair disheveled. Each step was his own doing and yet it still felt as though the path was fated, there was nothing to be done except go to you. See what this life had made of you, pray to a god who wasn’t listening. When he opened the door, what he saw struck him so hard his vision went white.

You were hanging from the center of the room, your body was still and cold. He knew it was too late to save you but stupidly he fumbled with the sheets around your neck, trying to get your body down. Murmuring little words of comfort to ears that could not hear him. If only he could just get you down, he could save you. This time, this time, he had to save you. How foolish he was. How could he not see that such was not the way things worked for him?

Your body was not even warm when he set you down on the floor, when he put his head on your chest, he heard no heartbeat not even a weak and staggered one. Your eyes were open, unblinking and looking constantly at a point in the distance away from him. You had been dead for some time, for your body had not even been swaying from where you hung. He couldn’t feel you anymore. But he could not let go of you either, he stayed with your body until the steward was firmly pulling him away. “My lord…please leave her to us.” His head had been lain again your chest, his tears wetting your chemise for how long? He did not know.

Even after your body was taken, he remained kneeling on the floor where he had held you.

He was not even coherent enough to kill himself but for the state he was in, the doctor recommended he take sedatives. They made the days pass like minutes and often he was in the dark with his misery, not able to speak it, show it. Not allowed the reprieve or the punishment of a knife against his throat. He was in the dark with your body hanging in front of him. He was in the dark every day until the morning he was woken up for your funeral. That day he awoke by a caress, a warm hand against his cheek and for a confused, bleary moment, he thought it was your hand. His heavy eyelids opened and caught a glimpse of golden hair.

He was besotted again. Diana was beautiful even in mourning garb, dressed in delicate black lace, inches away from him with tears in her eyes. “Lord Claude” Her voice wavered. “I’m sorry, but it’s time for you to wake up. The funeral is soon, I’ve already let you sleep as much as you can.” He couldn’t help the enormous love that came over him as he saw her trying to be strong before him. He stretched his stiff limbs around her and held her to his chest. She did not refuse his comfort, she fell apart in his arms and cried. Her face was nuzzled into his neck as he ran his hand up and down her back. Yet again, something had bloomed from the void inside. The honey of her love had sweetened everything and it was reaching inside him to claim control once more. What defense had he against her, his consolation and mercy?

The funeral service was carried out at the marquisate. A lady should be buried in her husband’s family plot after being married, after all. A marchioness is a marchioness, not even the part of him that despised you could deny as much. He’d relinquished himself to that greater instinct again, he was sure it had happened while he was in Diana’s arms. The moment his control was undone indefinitely was when remembered his love for her.

Diana cried throughout the funeral and held to his arm, looking at the coffin which cradled her sister who looked fitful as if she were having a bad dream even in death. She trembled to see her sister, young and newly married, dead. Perhaps she saw herself in the coffin next and the thought of that made Claude hold her closer. No one commented on him embracing his sister-in-law so intimately at his wife’s funeral, least of all your parents who looked more burdened than bereaved. They apologized to him for the inconvenience caused by the whole ordeal from your wedding to your death and offered to take over the planning of the funeral at some point. They apologized to him for your death. Instead of mourning you, their firstborn daughter. You, your mother’s only daughter, a loss that should have shaken her to her very core was being treated as a matter of political burden. You were no more to her than a fallen knight, a matter of replacement or compensation. A financial headache, perhaps a political one but never a mother’s heartache or confusion for a daughter who took her own life.

What did he feel? Was it a husband’s grief? No…no, it was impossible for him to only feel a husband’s grief now. He was not just your husband, he was your killer, your jailor, your tormentor. The constant catalyst of your demise. He had not just lost a wife, he had killed one. There was never a time where he had been a husband to you, it was fitting that his grief was not that of a loving, dutiful husband.

Diana insisted upon not leaving him alone so your parents left her in his care. They didn’t flinch when she asked them and she didn’t think anything of spending so much time alone with her dead sister’s husband even though she had flirted with him so heavily while she was alive. Should she not be ashamed to ask this of him? Or did she think it was alright since she believed what everyone else did, that you didn’t love him, that you ran away to elope with your lover and killed yourself because he had been slain in the end? Nevertheless, he welcomed her.

Diana spent an entire week with him, days that comforted his hateful heart more than anything ever had. Perhaps it shouldn’t have, for she was mourning you as he was supposed to be. But it was as if they were playing pretend again, except this time they had the entire marquisate at their disposal instead of just Diana’s bedroom. When he wanted to see her, she was in the library or out in the garden or taking lunch in the guest room. Always in reach, it made him feel better. She was safe, she was healthy this time around and she was his. More than she ever had been before. Perhaps the suddenness of your death made her all the more open, made the need for comfort greater. Either way, the sweetness of her love was falling over him as warmly as summer rain.

But after that week, Diana did need to return home. For the sweet girl did not want her parents to miss her for too long. Claude insisted on accompanying her home in the carriage, under the guise of her safety but in all reality, just to spend even a few more moments with her.

They were halfway there when the carriage started moving faster than it should have. The horses were whinnying in fright desperately racing forth, Diana’s slight frame nearly flew across the carriage before he caught her and held her. They were run off the dirt road and into the forest. Claude couldn’t understand what was happening, he only caught the glimpse of dark figures out the window before the carriage flipped over.

He used his body to keep Diana from getting hurt the instant he felt the carriage tip. His head hit the door of the carriage hard but he seemed to be alright, there was only a little blood. “Diana?” He hadn’t the time or the wits about him to form the sentence he wished to speak, he could only call her name, frantic and panicked. “I’m alright!” Diana answered, looking up at him, still in his arms. She was trembling and fear clouded her eyes. He could hear commotion outside, fighting, the clang of swords. His heart sank at the staggered realization that they were being attacked but he was quick to action regardless of how badly his head pained him and how he couldn’t find his balance.

Still, by the time he’d helped Diana out of the carriage, his two knights were laying on ground before several men, cloaked in black with their swords wet with blood. He pushed her behind him and gripped his own sword to hold out before him. It was at least four swords against one, there was no way for him to live but he still needed to save Diana. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t logical, that he knew in his rational mind that he had no chance, he had to wield his sword against them. They were quickly done in, Diana seized and his sword arm badly injured. Strangely, they did not seem to have any intentions of killing him which gave him hope that it was a ransom situation. Until the man who had Diana, who seized her as she tried to flee to her best bet of survival — the thick forests around them, slit her throat unceremoniously and let her body drop to the ground into the dirt.

Claude let out a sound of unbridled anguish that startled birds from the trees. He fought against their hold wildly, turned half feral and dripping blood on them. The man who stayed back, took down the hood of his cloak revealing black hair, he seemed to be their ringleader. “Now that we have that out of the way, let me.” He stepped forward and drew his sword. Claude was still fighting, still writhing in the grips of his assailants, uttering curses at them. The stranger pulled Claude’s hair to lift his head and make him look up into his eyes. He wore a soft smile, dissonant from the situation. “Lord Claude, I hope you’d agree you’re entirely too important to be dealt with by just anybody.”

The stranger, his eyes glittering with joy, stood back and brought his sword down over Claude's head.

author's note: Oh, Claude. Didn't anyone ever tell you the forest is full of wicked things?

tags: @kage-tobiuo@kreishin @rosephantomhive@yeahdrarry@splaterparty0-0 @dear-dairiesss @qluvrv @hafsuhhh @eissaaaa @ayolk @doan-19 @fourcefulcupid@ariachaos@cerisearan@irisspade@yaesflorist@jcrml@xiaosprettygf@yevenly@amaris08atoshi012022 @obsessed-with-a-fictional-man @softbummiee@cassanderasblog @waka-babe @bananatwirl @s1mp69 @mitsuyamistress @hottiewifeyyyy @reiko69 @syyyy4ever @pinkpastel-l @dododododooosworld @gwyneveire

#claude x reader #wmmap x reader #claude de alger x reader #claude de alger obelia x reader #wmmap fanfic #x reader

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artemis-potnia-theron · 23 days

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Artemis-Diana as a goddess of transitions my beloved...

From seed to sprout

From womb to birth

From childhood to adulthood

From 'singlehood' to marriage

From youth to old age

From sickness to healing

From twilight to dusk

From dusk to dawn

From full moon to new moon

From death to life

From life to death

She is the boots-on-the-ground pair of hands that leads us, sometimes kicking and screaming, with all the gentleness of a lioness taking her cub by the scuff of its neck.

She is my life-death-rebirth deity in the most primal way. She's the guardian of the gate and the door. She teaches us to look at ourselves and our lives and put it all in context, and she ensures that we are never alone while we do it.

There's just something about her being goddess of the hunt (death for the sake of survival) and birth at the same time...

Sometimes being her devotee feels like looking at my own failing body and inevitable death square in the eye and learning how not to look away, because she'll bear witness with me. That's who she is. That's what she does.

Because a mother will always be a mother, no matter what form her children take.

#my ramblings #artemis #artemis deity #artemis devotee #artemis goddess #artemis worship #helpol #tw: death

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carefulfears · 11 months

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let's chat about mulder and names <3 (and bear with me because i'm not feeling great today)

"who'd you tick off to get stuck with this detail, scully?"

following only "no one down here but the FBI's most unwanted," and "isn't it nice to suddenly be so highly regarded," his third wise-crack is the first to address his new partner by name; effectively endowing dana with new identity as soon as she crosses the basement office threshold.

one of the few things that i get a kick out of in season nine, is how everyone has a first name again, after mulder leaves.

characters that we have known for years as "scully," "skinner," "doggett," and "reyes" become "dana," "walter," "john," and "monica."

it means something else, in this particular group, in this particular absence.

when scully's father passes away, mulder addresses her by name for the first time (visibly throwing her off as she clocks the difference, chuckling and repeating it back) to check on her personally, before suggesting that she take some time away from work.

and this continues to be the line drawn throughout season one, a way that he signals a personal connection apart from the professional; notably here in lazarus, when concerned for her safety ("this one is important to me")

carrying over to his next partner, he also utilizes this timing to establish connection with krycek, when they were working together.

(i believe that krycek is the only character other than scully that we hear mulder call their first name? do with that what you will!)

and seven years later, to reference and recall that connection, in the end.

after nearly a year together, always the learner, scully attempts to reciprocate this method; addressing him by his own first name, when she has something personal that she wants to communicate.

when she's cut off, and he interrupts with a laugh and shake of his head.

he tells her, "i even made my parents call me mulder," which is not true- but as discussed here- isn't a ploy for distance either. rather, it's more to say, "this is what i prefer from those close to me."

his parents, diana, senator matheson, CSM at times, all call him "fox." everyone in his personal life (aside from TLG) calls him "fox," regardless of if he's asked them not to in the past.

for some, it's a power play. for others, an insult. some just don't care.

my favorite thing about this scene in tooms with scully, is that she doesn't pause. she doesn't reconsider, or redirect. she doesn’t address it. she doesn't look away. she attempted to establish intimacy in one way, and was communicated with, and she takes it in strides.

it's barely a breath before she says exactly what she had planned on saying, adjusted only slightly to accommodate: "mulder, i wouldn't put myself on the line for anybody but you."

our first introduction to another scully girl, a comatose dana tells her sister through astral planes to say "mulder."

i love this about missy, that she holds crystals over her sister's body and listens. she instantly corrects herself the next time she sees mulder, offering that respect her sister had demanded.

and the first time we hear scully speak after her abduction is to correct her mother, before even opening her eyes.

this is part of their secret language, these identities that they have. the name that he gave her, and the one that she never questions. she takes him exactly as he offers.

diana says "fox" like she has something to prove, scully says "mulder" like it's an endearment. her secret treasure that only she understands.

after all, scully has heard this story: the only thing that stays the same each time mulder recalls samantha's abduction, is his memory of her screaming for him.

"fox" is the last thing that he ever heard his sister say, and it remains hers only. the only exception being the lost children that he tries to save, for her, whom he always introduces himself to by first name.

after a while, that intimacy trick from the beginning becomes moot, as the professional becomes the personal. the work becomes life, and dana becomes scully.

she might be “dana” to everyone outside of that office, but does it compare?

and he only employs it one more time between season 1 and season 9, in the field where i died, an episode all about connection and interpersonal fate.

a whisper, a question: dana, if we had known each other always, in every life, would it have changed things?

she gives him his answer: no. she wouldn’t change a day. and she remains “scully.”

(look at my baby daddy dawg i'm going on the run from the law)

until season 9 brings change, and they are so removed from that office that it would be unrecognizable.

and she’s “dana” over and over. she’s “dearest dana.” she’s his “son’s mother.”

and 25 years after that car outside tooms' house, we hear scully use his first name for the second time. barely above a whisper, it's a personal confession; he's her secret-keeper, he's her accomplice, (he's her son's father).

#txf.txt

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thecrownnetflixuk · 5 months

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Fond Farewells Mark the End of an Era for The Crown.

Pt 2 of Season 6 Accedes to the Next Generation – But Reigns Most Triumphant Saluting Its Sovereign.

Review & gifs by L.L @The Crown TV

I wasn't sure what to expect from the final 6 preview episodes of The Crown. Part 1 gifted us with a season-defining performance from Elizabeth Debicki, but such intense focus on the tragedy of Diana and Dodi's deaths was heavy-going. How to move forward?

Not many TV shows stick the landing, but I believe The Crown does, mostly by putting Queen Elizabeth front and centre. In four different ways! But Part 2 takes a while to forge ahead and reign triumphant.

Ed McVey and Meg Bellamy make shy William and swotty Kate believable as a young couple who meet at university – or earlier, as per a flashback with (not Ghost!) Diana. I still found it hard to invest in their will-they-won't-they relationship (we already know they do.)

Instead, it’s sisters Elizabeth and Margaret who have long been the emotional heart of this show; at every stage of their lives.

Former Oscar-nominee Lesley Manville (alongside Queen Imelda Staunton) is truly magnificent in Ep 8 as Princess Margaret, though it's painful watching this vibrant lady struggle as her health worsens.

Memories of the 1940's are a delight. However, I wish we'd seen more of wide-eyed teen Lilibet let loose (Viola Prettejohn) and carefree Marg (Beau Gadsdon) before older Margaret says her final goodbye.

Staunton saves her best for last, bringing dry humour, vulnerability as well as leadership to Ep 10. The 70+ min epic finale 'Sleep, Dearie Sleep' has its shaky moments, but beautifully completes Queen Elizabeth's story when it counts, bringing near-perfect closure. That alone elevates Season 6 beyond Season 5.

Warning - MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD. This is my final *EVER* review (might be extra long!)

S6 is NOW ON NETFLIX - WATCH THE EPISODES before reading.

Images: courtesy of Netflix

Starting with less good news; the first couple of episodes of Part 2 were my least favourite. Ep 5, 'Willsmania', feels transitional, and a little stuck in the past. Following his mother's death, Prince William (Ed McVey; taking over from younger actor Rufus Kampa) turns inward as he struggles to cope with public attention and grief.

It's an understandable reaction to losing a parent, but Part 1 already spent nearly half a season on Dodi and Diana. It felt like we grieved in real time. As a result, whenever the subject of Diana crops up again in Part 2, it tends to weigh down both pace and narrative.

Ep 6 brings a welcome change of topic. This being The Crown, I'm sure there are critics poised to be offended by Queen Elizabeth's nightmare about Prime Minister Tony Blair being crowned king, but to me, his 'coronation' was hilarious, as was the choir boy singing Blair's cheesy Labour pop anthem.

It felt like deliberate tongue-in-cheek humour, an absurd reminder why monarchy might still be better than populist elected leaders.

I really wanted this episode to work, but it didn't go anywhere, and themes like tradition-vs-modernity were covered more effectively in episodes such as 'Marionettes.' Bertie Carvel has Tony Blair's voice down but suffers from comparisons with Michael Sheen, who was uncanny as the Prime Minister in 3 earlier Peter Morgan projects.

^ PM Tony Blair. The Women's Institute weren't fans of his grandstanding.

The Crown: The Next Generation fully arrives during Ep's 7, 9 & 10. Some will love it. Those who prefer more historical episodes with broader scope may be disappointed, as the show follows William and Kate through University life in the early 2000's.

The newcomers do bring fresh energy to the show. It helps that they cast Ed McVey and Meg Bellamy, who make a sweet couple as Will and Kate, even if William sometimes comes across as petulant.

Unlike Ed McVey as William, Luther Ford doesn't bear much physical resemblance to Prince Harry, other than red hair. Ford does however put in a good performance as Harry becomes increasingly reckless.

The Crown doesn't hide either Harry or William's bad behaviour. The brothers seem to get on well at the start, but it later seems like they're more at odds. Underneath a lot – a LOT – of boozing, both boys appear quietly screwed-up over their mother's death. Neither of them seem to enjoy playing happy families with Charles, either.

The show mostly concentrates on William and Kate, but there aren't many episodes left to develop a genuine romance. They have potential, but it feels fairly surface level. Suddenly, they rush to move into a house share together when we've barely seen them kiss. They (and we) needed more screen time to really get to know each other.

There's a bigger issue here with Kate's mother, Carole Middleton (Eve Best.) Pushy parent Carole is keen to play matchmaker between her 'commoner' daughter and the young eligible Prince, keeping tabs on William. Carole isn't as conniving, but ... didn't we just watch a similar storyline with Mohamed Al-Fayed/Dodi/Diana in Part 1?

^ Kate 'n' Will. Her Mum would frame this picture.

Ep 8 'Ritz' plays like a standalone film. Margaret's final story is touching, but upsetting, at times; I was a fan of Diana, yet sobbed as much for Margaret as the credits rolled, even though her eventual death isn't shown. In fact, her final goodbye is sensitively done and stands as a fitting tribute to the princess, as well as to the Queen.

Lesley Manville makes Margaret's predicament so real as her health slowly breaks down. She bounces back from one stroke, then another hits. How awful too for Elizabeth to watch a much-loved sister deteriorate, though it was wonderful to see Lilibet read Margaret a bedtime story. It brought out the warmer side of Staunton's Queen.

The scene where Margaret scalds her feet in the bath is genuinely horrifying. I've suffered from ill health and loss of control myself and this was so much worse. I could feel her pain. That poor woman.

Human moments are where The Crown excels; through this episode, this working-class lass from a council house could somehow relate to a Princess in a palace. Peter Morgan has surely done more to humanise the royal family than any P.R team ever could.

^ Fans of Margaret (and Lesley Manville) prepare yourselves for her sad final journey.

Onto the big reveal: when I mentioned at the start there are FOUR ways Queen Elizabeth appears – this is what I meant:-

^ Newcomer Viola Prettejohn plays teenage Princess Elizabeth.

^ & there's Olivia Colman & Claire Foy alongside older Queen Imelda Staunton.

Satisfyingly, all 3 of The Crown's leading ladies return to close the show. Olivia Colman and Claire Foy each have an additional scene, too (I won't spoil the entire finale, as it covers a lot of ground in over 70 mins, but Olivia and Claire aren't back as 'ghosts.')

As we get older, the ghosts who speak loudest are our own; the former versions of us we berate ourselves with. Not everyone may warm to the Queen (sort of) talking to herself, but personally, I was thrilled to see these talented actors on screen together.

Foy's scene with Staunton is particularly effective, as the younger Queen gives her older self an old-fashioned dutiful talking to. It's somehow also credible that they're aspects of the same person.

It reminded me of Peter Morgan’s 2013 (extraordinary) play, ‘The Audience', which inspired this series, and included scenes where Helen Mirren shared the stage with young Elizabeth. That play is also why this theatre-fan started watching The Crown to begin with, and later went on to create this website.

When Ep 10 finished playing, my Netflix returned itself to Season 1. 60 episodes over 7 years! I will miss the grand scale of The Crown, but appreciate the legacy which remains. Now feels like the right time for this story to end. A full-circle moment in more ways than one.

**Majestic thanks for reading, and to every person who has liked, reblogged, messaged, supported The Crown TV for all these years.

💎♕You each deserve a Crown of your own!♕💎**

N.B: These are my humble opinions at this point in time. No offence is intended. Agreement = lovely; not compulsory. Disagreement = happens; kindly coexist. Ta!

#the crown #queen elizabeth ii #imelda staunton #princess margaret #lesley manville #tony blair #bertie carvel #william and kate #ed mcvey #meg bellamy #viola prettejohn #claire foy #olivia colman #reviews #articles #season 6 #pt 2 #gifs #the crown spoilers

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best-childhood-book · 4 months

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#best childhood book #poll #flat stanley #the sea of trolls #a dog's life #the willoughbys #journey to the river sea #babe the sheep pig #the chronicles of chrestomanci #i survived #the mother daughter book club #silverwing

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raedas · 2 months

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I reach out to you with a heart heavy with grief and fear. In the chaos of Gaza, my family faces an unspeakable tragedy after the loss of my father and my elder brother. Each day feels more treacherous than the last, and we are desperate to escape the looming danger. Your compassionate assistance is our only hope to evacuate my mother and siblings to safety. Your kindness, no matter its size, carries the promise of a lifeline in our darkest hour. Please, may your heart guide you to help us in our time of need

it is fucking SICKENING to see people use the ongoing genocide (!) in gaza for their own benefit to run scams like this one

i know it’s been said before, but it bears repeating: asks like this one are scams. every single ask i have gotten asking for donations in the past has been a scam (and there have been many, i just usually ignore and delete them)

if you want to double check whether or not an ask you received is a scam, a very easy way is to scroll through the senders blog. some are super transparent like this one, where their scam is the only post on the blog, but others often reblog a handful of posts before they post. if you scroll enough, though, you’ll see the blog isn’t any older than a week

please direct your love and support to actual palestinians: i’ll link a handful of posts with gofundmes below

#asks #palestine

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rosalyn51 · 8 months

Text

ADoW Book 5 News (SPOILERS)

While #1 New York Times bestselling author Deborah Harkness is still editing THE BLACKBIRD ORACLE, she has said that more information will be coming. And the book is COMING SOON!

Bear in mind that things may change, nevertheless I got you a preliminary sneak peek of the synopsis [below the cut], which is a “thrilling and triumphant return to the All Souls Universe”. According to Deb’s book and media agent, the book will come out summer of 2024!

Recently, Deb has said,

Really excited for you to know more about it. It has been really a labor of love. I think you're going to really enjoy catching up with Diana and Matthew, and the twins.

THE BLACKBIRD ORACLE (Book 5) takes place 4 years after the events of TIME’S CONVERT (Book 4) of the All Souls Series (A DISCOVERY OF WITCHES, SHADOW OF NIGHT, THE BOOK OF LIFE). Exciting!!! 🤩🥳🥰

***SPOILERS ALERT***

THE BLACKBIRD ORACLE [Fiction, Summer 2024] by Deborah Harkness

A thrilling and triumphant return to the All Souls Universe about facing the darkness inside yourself—and embracing it.

Four years after the events of TIME’S CONVERT, Diana and Matthew are living in Connecticut with their seven-year-old twins preparing for a summer holiday in England. Their plans are thrown into disarray, however, when the Congregation notifies Diana that her children are scheduled to have their magic tested this autumn, bringing back painful memories of her own assessment and the chain of events it set in motion. The mail also brings a letter telling her it’s time to come home to Ravenswood—the family farm— and fulfill the prophecy the Proctors call The Blackbird Oracle. The letter is signed by Gwyneth Proctor—a great-aunt Diana didn’t know existed from a side of her family she thought dead.

Concerned for their children and curious to meet any family that remains, Diana and Matthew travel to the marshes of Ipswich, Massachusetts to meet Gwyneth. She shows Diana the higher magic that runs through her veins— and through her children’s, too—and Diana finds herself conflicted between her lifelong fear of darker magic and the tantalizing powers she could have.

Diana also discovers a collection of dusty old bottles filled with family memories captured through higher magic, including those of her mother’s. But her family’s memories aren’t just stored in Ravenswood; the Congregation holds some of the Proctor and Bishop memories along with those of other powerful witches as a means of control. As Diana learns how higher magic operates and how the Congregation withholds it for their own purposes, she’ll have to decide whether or not to embrace the darkness within her to protect her family. And whether to give her own children the chance to learn higher magic—a chance she never had—even if it means exposing them to the Congregation and their own dark sides.

SHADOW OF NIGHT and THE BOOK OF LIFE each debuted at #1 on the New York Times Bestseller list

The trilogy was adapted into a hit TV show, entitled A DISCOVERY OF WITCHES, starring Teresa Palmer and Matthew GoodE.

📸 Park & Fine Literary and Media (April 2023)

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catindabag · 4 months

Text

TBOSAS on Crack short take (74)

*How to avoid getting bitten by a rainbow snakey snake*

Prof.Demigloss: Mr. Anderson, please tell me one interesting fact about District 9.

Androcles: Ok! District 9 is known for its illegal rice cults!😀

Prof.Demigloss: Correct! Another point for Mr. Anderson.

Androcles: Yey!

Lysistrata: That’s not fair. That’s too easy, Professor.

Prof.Demigloss: Fine. I’m deducting 10 points from everyone but me.☺️

Lysistrata: Sir!

Livia: That doesn’t make sense.

Festus: 10 points?! But I only accumulated 8 points this year!

Gaius: I only have 4.

Apollo: I have 2.😀

Prof.Demigloss: Yey! A negative!

Lysistrata: Professor, you can’t do that! That’s not fair!

Prof.Demigloss: Do what?

Lysistrata: Deduct our points!

Prof.Demigloss: I can do whatever I want. I’m a dinosaur.😊

Lysistrata: I’m telling mother!

Prof.Demigloss: Yey! Demerits for everyone!

Domitia: Lizzie!

Livia: Thanks a lot, Vickers.

Lysistrata: I did nothing wrong!

Clemensia: I’m telling the Dean!

Diana: Really?

Clemensia: No. I’m telling Lepidus Malmsey and Capitol News.

Felix: Is that even allowed?

Prof.Demigloss: I’m going back to sleep now. Wake me up before my next break.

Coryo: Professor, please! I need my points back! I need to land on top!

Prof.Demigloss: Good for you, Crassus Snow. Goodnight.

Coryo: Professor!

Sejanus: I can always land on top of you, my love!😍

Coryo: Not now, Babe!

Sejanus: Kiss!😘

Prof.Demigloss: Mr. Plinth!

Sejanus: Yes?

Prof.Demigloss: If you and your sugar baby want to “make love” in front of the class-

Coryo: I’m his fiancé!

Prof.Demigloss: Sugar baby.

Sejanus: What should I do? Should I get a camera? 5 cameras?

Lysistrata: I have a camera!

Domitia: Take mine too!

Prof.Demigloss: Then please return my beloved Mr. Fluffy Feet-

Sejanus: I can’t.

Prof.Demigloss: Why not?! I need him! He’s my spy cam teddy bear!

Sejanus: Not anymore.

Prof.Demigloss: Return my expensive teddy bear! He belongs to me!

Androcles: No! Mr. Fluffy Feet belongs to me now! I’m his new best friend and partner in crime!

Prof.Demigloss: I bought him with my own paycheck, you thief!

Androcles: I found him, I keep him!

Prof.Demigloss: How could you?! You stole my poor teddy bear from me!😭

Sejanus: But Mr. Fluffy Feet is currently hiding in Dr. Gaul’s lab.

Prof.Demigloss: That’s why you have to return him to me. I’m scared.😞

Sejanus: Can’t. Sorry.

Prof.Demigloss: You’re not sorry.

Androcles: Sorry not sorry.

Prof.Demigloss: Is this because I illegally sold all of your pretty feet pics without the government’s permission?

Felix: You sold our feet pics?!

Prof.Demigloss: Online.😊

Gaius: You have my feet pics?!

Prof.Demigloss: Professor Sickle gave them to me for free.😊

Vipsania: My auntie gave what?!

Prof.Demigloss: She collects them. It’s her new secret hobby.

Livia: Ew. Were they ugly?

Prof.Demigloss: Half of them were either pretty or blurry.

Livia: Was mine the prettiest?

Prof.Demigloss: No. Snow’s, Creed’s, Ring’s, and Ravinstill’s were the prettiest of the bunch.

Livia: Of course they were.🙄

Diana: Which Ring?

Prof.Demigloss: Apollo Ring.

Diana: Figures.😔

Apollo: Yey! I’m pretty!

Hilarius: How about mine?😀

Prof.Demigloss: Ugly AF.

Vipsania: I don’t want to know!

Hilarius: How much?

Prof.Demigloss: How much what?

Hilarius: How much money did you make?

Prof.Demigloss: A million bucks.

Hilarius: One million bucks?!

Prof.Demigloss: I even auctioned off some of them last week.

Felix: You can legally auction off our feet pics without President Gran Gran’s permission?!

Prof.Demigloss: My dearest Felix, your granduncle was even one of my top buyers.

Felix: Nevermind. I don’t want to know.

Prof.Demigloss: I even auctioned off some of your old red skirts last month. It was fun.

Apollo: Is that even allowed?

Diana: I bought the skirts.

Lysistrata: Diana, how could you?!

Diana: I’m a skirt collector.

Lysistrata: Give them back!

Diana: No.

Festus: I want my shares!

Gaius: Mine too!

Coryo: But who the heck bought our pretty feet pics online?!

Prof.Demigloss: Mr. Heavensbee Sr.

Coryo: Of course he did.😑

Peacekeeper Joe: *runs in and salutes* Professor!

Prof.Demigloss: Hello, Officer Jovilius! How are you? How’s life?

Peacekeeper Joe: Stressed and underpaid as always, Professor.

Prof.Demigloss: Good for you.☺️

Peacekeeper Joe: Dr. Gaul wants to see Mr. Snow and Ms. Dovecote in her “totally legal” laboratory right now.

Prof.Demigloss: What for?

Peacekeeper Joe: I don’t know.

Festus: Is she going to buy our feet pics too?

Felix: I hope not.

Peacekeeper Joe: Are they still available?

Everyone: No.

Peacekeeper Joe: I’m sad now.

Felix: Thank Panem.

Peacekeeper Joe: Well, I still need Mr. Snow and Ms. Dovecote to come with me.

Sejanus: Can I come too? My beloved darling Snow Bae needs me.🥰

Peacekeeper Joe: No.

Coryo: I need my rich sugar daddy. I’m scared.

Festus: Me too!

Felix: And me!

Lysistrata: Let me join the fun!

Peacekeeper Joe: You can’t.

Clemensia: Officer, they’re my idiots. Please let them join us.

Peacekeeper Joe: I said no.

Coryo: Hilarius will give you his pretty feet pics for free.

Hilarius: I will?

Coryo: Yes, you will.

Peacekeeper Joe: Fine! All of you may join us!

Everyone: Yey!

Peacekeeper Joe: But be careful, be quiet, and behave!

Gaius: No promises.

Prof.Demigloss: Can I-

Peacekeeper Joe: No. You’re old. Dr. Gaul hates old people.

Prof.Demigloss: But she’s old too!

Peacekeeper Joe: And you’re a crusty dinosaur who needs to retire.

Prof.Demigloss: Crispus is sad now.

Apollo: Bye, Professor! See you later!☺️

Prof.Demigloss: Goodbye, children. Bring me 3 blueberry waffles and a cup of expensive coffee on your way back.

Gaius: Sure! Livia will buy you 10!

Livia: Ew. No.

*2 hours later, inside Dr. Gaul’s creepy “totally legal” laboratory*

Apollo: Yo, guys, look at that!

Coryo: Look at what?

Apollo: That! *points at a random glass jar* It has an ugly lobster monster mutt inside!

Festus: Cool! Let’s touch it!

Apollo: Maybe it can even slow dance and sing a song for us!😀

Felix: I hope not.

Livia: I’m telling mother.

Androcles: I’m going to steal that lobster monster later.☺️

Felix: Good for you.

Diana: Guys, look at that! It’s a big ass glass with a lot of wiggly candy worms inside!

Lysistrata: Those things aren’t wiggly candy worms!

Diana: Yes, they are.

Lysistrata: Those are baby snakes!

Coryo: Rainbow snakes.

Livia: Obviously.🙄

Festus: Let’s talk to them!

Androcles: Let’s steal one!

Felix: Where’s Dr. Gaul?

Peacekeeper Joe: She’s still in her private break room sipping hot tea.

Festus: Good! Let’s feed those rainbow snakey snakes before that crazy doctor kicks us out!

Coryo: With what?

Festus: What what?

Coryo: What are we going to feed them? Our limbs?

Sejanus: *pulls a body bag out of nowhere* I have a large sack of gumdrops and bread crumbs with me.

Coryo: Ok. Let’s feed them- Scratch that. Let’s feed me first.

Festus: And me! I’m hungry.

Coryo: Babe, feed me.

Sejanus: Anything for you, my love!

Gaius: *takes out his lunchbox* But can I feed them these tiny cheese cubes?

Festus: Do snakes even like cheese?

Gaius: Everyone likes cheese.

Coryo: Where did you get those cheese cubes anyway? Did my crazy cousin and her annoying cheese fairies gave them to you?

Gaius: No. A drunk Professor Click gave them to me for free!

Coryo: Well, that’s unfortunate.

Gaius: Why?

Coryo: I’m pretty sure that “Miss Alcoholic Click” laced those cheese cubes of yours with either posca, whiskey, or both.

Festus: At least it’s not cyanide.

Sejanus: Or rat poison.😀

Gaius: But can a baby snake even become a proud alcoholic like Professor Click?

Coryo: I don’t know.

Festus: Let’s test it out!

Gaius: Yeah! Alcoholic baby snakes! Let’s go! *throws the cheese cubes inside the snakes’ enclosure*

Hilarius: I have a question!

Clemensia: No.

Hilarius: Do rainbow snakes like to eat apple tarts or banana bread?

Lysistrata: I have an apple tart!

Diana: Can they eat oranges?

Apollo: How about grapes?

Hilarius: I’ll throw a banana just to be sure.

Clemensia: Sure of what?

Hilarius: I don’t know. I just want to throw a banana.

Coryo: Just throw everything in.

Diana: Ok. Whatever you say, Snowy!

Everyone: *throws every snack available inside the glass cage*

Gaius: Look! They’re all eating my tiny cheese cubes!

Hilarius: And my banana.

Clemensia: Shouldn’t we be worried about our own safety?

Gaius: What safety? We’re just feeding Dr. Gaul’s baby snakes.

Coryo: Clemmie, do you want to feed the rainbow snakes too?

Clemensia: No.

Coryo: You can feed them a gumdrop.

Clemensia: Fine. One gumdrop and we’re done. *throws a red gumdrop inside the glass cage* Happy?

Coryo: Look at that, Clemmie! They ate your red gumdrop.

Clemensia: Really?

Coryo: They’re now happy!

Sejanus: Have another one, Clem.

Clemensia: Give me the whole sack.

Sejanus: Yey!

Androcles: I’m still stealing one.

Peacekeeper Joe: Well, you do you. Goodbye. I’m going outside. Peace!

Lysistrata: Bye, Officer Jovilius!

Peacekeeper Joe: Just call me Joe.

Coryo: Bye, Joe.

Peacekeeper Joe: Bye, losers.

Dr.Gaul: *walks in* Ah! Mr. Snow! Ms. Dovecote- Why the f*ck are you all here?!

Gaius: We’re feeding your rainbow snakey snakes for free!

Apollo: You’re welcome.☺️

Dr.Gaul: Get away from my babies!

Felix: That’s rude. We’re still feeding and they’re still eating.

Dr.Gaul: Stop feeding my snakes!

Festus: Why? They’re happy!

Dr.Gaul: You’re ruining my project!

Hilarius: They ate my banana.

Dr.Gaul: F*ck your banana!

Androcles: Guys! *grabs a snake* I can hold and hug them now!

Dr.Gaul: Don’t touch-

Diana: Andie, get another one! I wanna hold a baby snake too!

Apollo: Me too!

Androcles: Here you go. *gives Diana a snake* A yellow and blue baby snakey just for you.

Diana: Yey! He’s mine now!

Apollo: Let’s name him Scamander!

Diana: Our pretty baby Scamander!

Felix: Can I have one too?🥺

Androcles: Sure! Here’s a pretty pink one just for you, Class Pres! *gives a cute snake to Felix*

Felix: Thanks. I’ll name this one ✨Little Saturninus✨.

Coryo: That’s a cool name.

Sejanus: Let’s name our firstborn son ✨Saturninus✨, Coryo!

Coryo: Sure. I approve.

Sejanus: And let’s name our firstborn daughter ✨Cassiopeia✨!

Coryo: I like Cassandra better.

Sejanus: Cassiopeia’s better.

Lysistrata: Cassandra Cassiopeia Lysistrata Plinth!😀

Sejanus: No. Your name is too long and too complicated, Lizzie. Sorry.

Lysistrata: Really?

Coryo: It’s also connected to an old but infamous viral disease.

Lysistrata: Which one?

Coryo: Rabies.

Lysistrata: I knew it.😔

Sejanus: Cassiopeia Plinth it is!

Coryo: Babe, my love, you can name our firstborn son ✨Saturninus Xanthos Plinth✨. How about that?

Sejanus: Saturninus Sejanus Xanthos Plinth?!🥹

Coryo: Sure. Whatever you want.

Sejanus: Whatever I want?😍

Coryo: As long as I name our firstborn daughter ✨Cassandra Coriolana Xanthe Plinth✨.

Sejanus: Deal!

Dr.Gaul: What the actual f*ck.

Androcles: Yo, I got my rainbow snake! Let’s go! *runs away*

Dr.Gaul: F*ck this. I’m going home.

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