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tealin · 2 years

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Dr Edward Adrian Wilson

“Words must always fail me when I talk of Bill Wilson. I believe he really is the finest character I ever met – the closer one gets to him the more there is to admire. . . . Whatever the matter, one knows Bill will be sound, shrewdly practical, intensely loyal and quite unselfish. . . . I think he is the most popular member of the party, and that is saying much.”

— Capt. Scott, in a letter dated 22 Oct 1911

He was christened Edward, and his family called him Ted – the fifth child, eventually of ten, of Dr. Wilson of Cheltenham. Even in early childhood he showed an aptitude for natural history and drawing, and his father encouraged both, allowing him to roam all over the Cotswolds and South Wales, observing animals, collecting specimens, and sketching them. He attended Cheltenham College where he was secretary of the ornithology branch of the Natural History Society, then was accepted into Cambridge to follow in his father's footsteps into medicine. This he did, his very hard work interspersed with regular rowing practice and at least one illicit pre-dawn excursion for trout fishing, but his gruelling work ethic and compulsion to push himself to his limit eventually backfired: while a trainee at St George's Hospital in London, he came down with tuberculosis.

At first it was thought that he needed simply a break from work and smog, so he went to stay with friends in Norway for a while. However, with mountains to climb and vistas to paint and miles of rugged countryside to be tramped over, this only gave young Wilson a greater opportunity for exertion, so he was sent to a sanatorium in Davos, Switzerland, where the medical staff could limit his range. Being cooped up sent him into a depression, but the enforced rest gave him the opportunity to correspond with a young lady he had met in London, Oriana Souper, and their relationship grew from kindred spirits to something rather more substantial.

He returned to England much improved in health, though his doctor advised he resign himself to a quiet life. Of course this was eschewed. “I can't bear people who always take for granted that one's main object is to save up one's health and strength, eyesight and what not, for when one is sixty. How on earth can they tell whether one is going to reach thirty?” Wilson threw himself back into medical studies and got his MD. In the midst of this, he was encouraged to apply for the post of Junior Surgeon and Zoologist on the upcoming Discovery Expedition. Despite his reservations – aside from his health, he and Oriana had got engaged, and he didn't think his artistic skills were sufficient to be considered in that capacity – the decision-makers liked him and offered him the post. He took it.

The Discovery left London in August of 1901, three weeks after Edward and Oriana were married. Wilson was well-loved by his crewmates, who enjoyed his wry humour as much as his drawings, and it was here he got the nickname “Bill.” Wilson himself was particular friends with Ernest Shackleton, and both got along well with the expedition's commander, Robert Falcon Scott. So when Scott set out to push into the continent's interior, it was Wilson and Shackleton he took along.

To keep a long story short, by the time the three returned to the ship (all with scurvy), Wilson was better friends with Scott than with Shackleton. The latter was in such bad shape that he was invalided home, while Wilson and Scott stayed another year. When the Discovery finally returned to civilisation, the friendship between Wilson and Scott had been firmly cemented.

To celebrate their reunion, Dr and Mrs Wilson embarked on several years travelling up and down the country investigating causes of a disease afflicting red grouse. Shackleton invited Wilson to join him on his Nimrod Expedition; Wilson said he was busy. However, on one trip to Scotland he reconnected with Scott and they started devising plans for another trip to the Antarctic; on another he met Apsley Cherry-Garrard, who he would recommend to that expedition.

Once again the Wilsons parted, when the Terra Nova left Cardiff in June of 1910, though they had a brief reunification between South Africa and New Zealand before being parted for real in November. This time Dr Wilson was head of the scientific staff, and as the eldest member thereof, was dubbed Uncle Bill. As before, he was rapidly beloved by all who sailed with him, perhaps even more so than on the Discovery since he was nine years wiser and kinder. His friendship with Scott also made him the communicator between the young scientists and the sometimes aloof leader – if you wanted to say something to Scott, it was much easier to relay it through Wilson. His talents as confidant and peacemaker – and also, probably, his involvement in selecting the scientific staff in the first place – were largely responsible for the first year of the Terra Nova Expedition being remarkably convivial.

One big reason Wilson had been keen to go south again was to acquire some Emperor penguin embryos, which could only be done while the eggs were being incubated in the winter. On the Discovery Expedition, they located an Emperor rookery at Cape Crozier, on the western end of Ross Island; when conditions prevented them setting up base there in January 1911, it necessitated a midwinter journey the following June. Wilson and Cherry-Garrard had already planned to do this together, and agreed Bowers was the obvious choice for the third. They set off a few days after the Midwinter feast and endured five weeks of almost unimaginably arduous conditions, culminating in a hurricane-force blizzard on Wilson's birthday which blew their tent away. Miraculously, they made it back to base mostly unharmed and with three whole Emperor eggs. It was this journey that gave Cherry the title for his book, The Worst Journey in the World.

A few months later, they were on the trail again, this time partly retracing the route travelled by Wilson, Scott, and Shackleton in Discovery times, as they trekked to the South Pole. On top of his services as an experienced and capable sledger, Wilson also contributed sketch after sketch of the mountains up the Beardmore Glacier, often battling through snowblindness to do so. To no one's surprise, he was selected for the final Polar Party, and of the three journals kept by that party, his is the least bothered by finding they'd been beaten to their goal – “We want the Scientific work to make the bagging of the Pole merely an item in the results,” he had written to his father in 1909, and this attitude was more than just a pose.

Things started going wrong even before they turned back north. Taff Evans had injured his hand in modifying their sledge and disclosed this after leaving the Pole, when infection had already set in. Wilson, as doctor, tended it as best he could, and the frostbites that Evans was prone to. Then Wilson himself strained a tendon in his leg, which took several days to recover well enough to get back in harness. Evans' condition kept deteriorating, and despite Wilson's best efforts, he died at the bottom of the glacier. When they failed to find the warmer temperatures they were expecting back at sea level, it was Oates' frostbite that took Wilson's time and attention – that was also revealed too late, and got worse quickly. On March 11th, Scott “practically ordered Wilson to hand over the means of ending our troubles to us, so that anyone of us may know how to do so. Wilson had no choice between doing so and our ransacking the medicine case.” Oates let Antarctica do the dirty work for him, and eventually the remaining three decided to do the same, but not before pushing themselves as far as they could go.

Even after the remaining three were pinned down by a blizzard, Wilson was determined to go on, being prepared to make an attempt with Bowers to reach the next depot and bring back some food and fuel – a round trip of 22 miles for two men already at the limit of their endurance. Both seemed to expect they would die on the way, which may explain why they never left – leaving Scott to die alone would have been a greater strain on them morally than the journey would have been physically. Wilson kept his equanimity to the end: Scott wrote a very moving letter to Oriana, apologising for getting her husband into this mess and telling her of the “comfortable blue look of hope” in his eyes, “and his mind is peaceful with the Satisfaction of his faith in regarding himself as part of the great scheme of the almighty. I can do no more to comfort you than to tell you that he died as he lived a true brave man – the best of comrades and staunchest of friends.”

Sources Cheltenham in Antarctica by D.M. Wilson (great-nephew) and D.B. Elder The Last Letters by the Polar Party, ed. Heather Lane, Naomi Boneham, and Robert D. Smith

A note on the drawings: The pages you see here span about a year and a half. Wilson is my favourite, so I get worked up about getting him right, and then can't draw at all. What I ought to do is take him to the pub and unwind, but what I actually do is give up and take another stab a few months later, usually in a situation bereft of reference. Despite all this, in retrospect I think some progress has been made...?

#bill wilson #edward adrian wilson #terra nova expedition #scott expedition #polar history #biography #character design #drawings #character

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nohrenvia · 2 years

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Bizarre Rain

ᴊᴊʙᴀ ᴠɪᴄᴛᴏʀɪᴀɴ ᴀᴜ

Type ー OC x Canon

Synopsis ー London, England 1860's. High society couldn't believe what they saw. A commoner marrying a nobleman? Had the world gone mad? It definitely is.

Featuring ー Victorian AU Bucci gang & Oc's

a/n. Thank you @theclairedelunemiracle for setting the AU in motion. This story took a lot of time to write, but it was fun nonetheless.

Who is Lady Angelica?

As you all may have known, she is the heiress of Spade, one of the largest tea company to ever be built upon England. It isn't uncommon for the nouveau riche to enter high society as a newcomer, the Spade family rose into riches a decade ago, earning themselves a place as one of the richest family in high society, surpassing several barons, viscountess, and even earls. The high society has never been merciful to the nouveau riches. So evidently, Miss Spade endures by waltzing her way into the ballroom, whilst whispered insults were aimed at her.

Recalling a few years ago, Angelica Spade was nothing but a mere merchant's daughter, her unclear past left an unimpressionable mark, leaving not a single clue to where her family had hailed from.

Being loved and hated at the same time sounds utterly ridiculous, Angelica thought so.

Her kind and merciful nature had made her a saint in the eyes of some, and the other whom hated her brings scorn at every turn. The world of the elite was a strange and dangerous place, just as treacherous as the low class.

Angelica Spade wasn't born in aristocracy or gentry. Her mother, a descendant of a fallen noble house, married a timid yet hardworking commoner.

The man's endeavors are well-paid by heaven's above, amassing an incredulous amount of wealth than expected. As of now, the Spade family are one of the richest excluding the nobles and the royals. Their wealth attracted countless attention, it wasn't a surprise if young, but destitute men knocked on house Spade's door in order to take her hand in marriage, of course, they are rejected. Most of them seeks to usurp her fortune to absolve debts, gambling, drinking, and many unspeakable acts she does not condone.

Although the lady bestows mercy, no forgiveness would be allowed to anyone who harmed her or her family.

Rain is an old friend.

It is the oldest friend to her.

Why should one be bothered by water? Most of people felt quite the discomfort when rain falls, huffing at the inconvenience. Nevertheless, as long as she can remember, rain stays where it is needed, and she's had her share of rainfall, particularly during those funerals she attended.

Her first funeral was dedicated to Angelica's dear old grandmother, dying beautifully in her coffin, surrounded by her favorite lilies. She can not remember who cried the most, but the hardest to fall onto his knees was her grandfather.

'Oh, how grandfather loves grandmother with his whole heart, more than himself, I did not know if it's true but I can confirm that thought. He must have cherished her a whole lot that he dug her grave in the middle of October.'

I know. I saw it from afar, behind the graveyard's gates.'

Many of her extended family died, one by one their funerals took a lot out of their meager wealth.

Some died in war, others submit to disease and famine, while a few died from unexpected or natural causes, and poverty crushed the rest.

Angelica was present in every single funeral arranged, and just like a loyal friend, rain arrives. In the very end, all that is left is her mother and her aunt. From a once great family, they were reduced into nothing but rubbles. House London, a once noble viscount household, had perished, courtesy of death.

Such a young soul, to be surrounded by death, the young Spade often thought if she would succumb to the same macabre fate as her ancestors. She never shed a tear upon those who are dead, but whoever said it didn't soften her heart? So soft, so merciful, yet so haunting.

'Would you believe if I say the memory of the smell never abandoned my mind? If you wish to perceive it, then you better search for something dead, entwine that something with withering lilies and roses. By then, you will know the scent of my family, the scent of death, a grotesque aroma.'

Known to be very fond of rain and hydrangeas, others had coined the nickname 'Lady of Hydrangeas' as a formality for her ladyship. The lady herself would gift a hydrangea as a token of her appreciation, most likely picked from her private gardens.

It was said that if one should visited the lady on a rainy day, she would be in a good mood. Any requests shall be granted on behalf of the calming rain.

Lady Aria Pamina Hertz, Baron Hertz's daughter, became close friends to Lady Angelica when they met each other on a rainy day.

Aria had lost her way. The gardens were akin to a maze, the way out wasn't in sights as she strolled. The sky had turned into a gloomy gray and not too long after, droplets of rain fell from the sky, heavy rain obscuring one's eyesight.

From afar, Aria saw a figure holding an umbrella, approaching her.

"Oh, hello there," a lady emerged from behind the curtain of rain.

The kind lady introduced herself as Angelica Spade, she offered Aria her umbrella as they searched and found a place to take shelter from the windy rain, that place being the garden's alcove.

Upon hearing her name, Aria recognized her as the heiress of Spade. She had always admired the mind behind the tea company, especially, their premium tea, launched by Lady Angelica herself, has proven to be wonderful, impressing the tongues of both the highborn and lowborn.

Flattered by such words, Angelica took an interest to the lady, so much that she offered Aria her friendship, deliberately landing a hydrangea on Aria's hand soon after.

The noblewoman, at the end of the day, was chaperoned by Angelica to the main house, the sky is getting darker by the minute. Strangely enough, Aria noticed her new companion did not take a step to the house, instead, the whimsical lady stood in the middle of rain, shielded by an umbrella. Before Aria could express her confusion, Angelica turned her back, returning to the gray gardens and equally gray skies, disappearing once again behind the curtain of rain.

"Come to my house any day, Lady Aria. I'll be sure to welcome you with the wafting scent of my newest tea."

Who would've known, Lady Angelica are well-acquaintanced with Lord Giorno Giovanna, Duke of Naples.

Rumor has it, that Lady Angelica had known the duke since he was a child. But is it true? Or was it another one of the gossips?

Even high-ranked nobles had difficulty arranging or requesting an audience with Duke Giovanna.

Additionally, her ladyship seems to be a member of Duke of Naples's inner circle. The story itself is quite a mystery, however, it couldn't be denied since Lady Angelica is truly Duke Giovanna's friend and one of his loyal confidante.

"Do you remember the time when we strolled by the slums?" Angelica said, reclining on the sofa inside Giorno's study. Now that he was the Duke of Naples, everything the previous duke belongs to him, "And we shared a basket of bread,"

Giorno leans to one of the finely-crafted bookshelves, reading a book, "Yes, I remember it clearly. You gave all the bread to me except for one,"

"I'm not fond of bread, one is enough," She rose from the plush seat, proceeding to gaze outside the palladian window, "But, that basket of bread led you to me, yes?"

The book was shut with a thump, "Indeed," he put the book down on his mahogany table, approaching Angelica, standing beside her as he too gazed the gardens below, "You, however, sent me to Bucciarati,"

"He could care for you better than I, and better than starving by my side," Angelica hummed.

If one inspects closer at the time they were but small children, Angelica and Giorno was similar to siblings, like an elder sister guiding her inexperienced younger brother.

But in truth, he saw her as a mentor, though she was far from it.

The lady knew who and what his true form is, with black hair and dull eyes, the color of dead leaves. She was utterly in shock when she realize his hair was dyed black, and that his true hair is golden, revealing his heritage, and his dream.

"However, if it weren't for you, I would never realize my dream. Grasping what is rightfully mine from the usurper Diavolo is nothing but a fool's daydream, impossible to achieve, if it isn't you who stoked the fire to my heart," glancing to his right, Giorno could see a small smile gracing her lips.

"You strive in light, while I strive in rain. Funny how the world works. Then again, my role was nothing but a wind to your firewood. Your actions are the ones who hoisted you to victory." She giggled, "You are the one who took Bucciarati's hand, I only showed you the way,"

The lady sighs, turning to face the golden-haired youth, "But, Haruno..." she gave him a wry smile, eyebrows scrunched.

The Duke of Naples felt something was amiss, "Yes...?"

"You were courting my landlady!?"

That day, Lord Giorno Giovanna, Duke of Naples, nearly received a slap, courtesy of Lady Angelica's fan.

But now, society know her as Lady Angelica Fugo, the Marchioness of Montierri, or simply as Marchioness Fugo.

Whilst Adrian Spade was given the honor of knighthood by the queen. Marchioness Angelica Fugo was almost given the title of dame, but the damehood was politely declined in favor for it to be given to her aunt, the now Dame Julia London.

The marriage between Marquess Pannacotta Fugo and Lady Angelica Spade shook London's high society to the core, earning many gossips and rumors encircling their matrimony. How did their union came to be?

March 1860. The night is young, the sun had just set. But tonight won't be a quiet night, not with the merrymaking of the ball's participant, and the debutantes. Twas a sight to behold, a party with men and women gliding through the dance floor, enthralled by the alluring music which is played by the recently popular musicians. Many young ladies could only dream about something such as tonight. Those bright-eyed maidens, dreaming about a grand ball, a dashing gentleman sweeping them off their feet. She would know, for that girl dreamt the same when she was but a child.

And here she was, lounging on an armchair at the back of the hall, hiding half of her face with a fan.

"Daughter, we ought to go home." Mr. Spade, sauntered toward her, "There's something we have to discuss... immediately."

Angelica shuts her fan with a sigh, smiling in relief, "Finally, I'm dying to leave this place."

"Indeed, we must. What we will discuss would determine your future." Mr. Spade muttered, prompting Angelica to fumble her fan.

"My dear, you are getting married."

"Pardon...!?" The words left Angelica wide-eyed, the room around her seems to blur away.

All she could see were candlelights...

The first meeting between the two took place in Lord Pericolo's debutante ball, a ball he held for the sake of the season's debutantes. The star bachelors of the season all gathered there, including the young marquess, without doubt it was Duke Giorno Giovanna and his allies.

According to a reliable source, rich and powerful figures graced the hall with their presence.

Bruno Bucciarati, Marquess of Townshend, also known as the 'Port Marquess', a nickname he held to this day. Owner of the Townshend company, a man too kind for his own good, also a desirable husband for the young maidens.

And not to forget, the port marquess's right hand man, Leone Abbacchio, Earl of Surrey. Owning a mine and a bad reputation of being a drunkard. But it is all in the past now that Marquess Bucciarati has baptized him into a new man.

For the free-spirited, simple, and horse-obsessed Earl of Lennox, Guido Mista, Bucciarati saw him fit as another ally with great talents. Lord knows why he chose that wild horse. However, no one can deny his gallant features and charm, handsome as he is cheerful, inciting excitement wherever he goes.

The future Baron Berner, a boy as refreshing as a river stream, also a debutant, Narancia Ghirga. Sponsored by Duke Giovanna and Marquess Bucciarati, he has a considerable amount of wealth despite not inheriting his father's title yet.

It all led to today. Yes, Lord Pericolo's ball is today.

The ball was meant to elevate his ward, Trish Una, as a debutant.

And her soon-to-be husband would meet her for the first time. Then again, Angelica is nervous, as well as the night before, for she knows not the visage of the man she would marry. Everything happened all of a sudden!

Angelica found herself beside her father, inside Lord Pericolo's ballroom. Tonight, she would meet her fiancée.

But before that, there is someone she would like to meet.

And the most surprising is how Marchioness Fugo is also a friend of the Duchess of Naples.

Our dear reliable source also told a story about how Lady Angelica associated herself with foreigners in Lord Pericolo's debutante ball.

Moreover, they were diplomats from India? That certainly sounds mysterious, one might wonder who they are, however, it was revealed to be Duchess Bria Giovanna when she was but a maiden.

"Good evening, Mr. Spade," A man, slightly bowed to Angelica's father.

"Ah! Lord Adal, a pleasure to meet you!" Mr. Spade cheered, shaking the foreigner's hand, a sign of a warm greeting, "I can't believe you've graced us with your presence tonight. Oh, and may I know who this lovely young lady is...?"

Lord Adal gestured to the young woman by his side, she is a rare beauty, capable of binding the many eyes to her spell, but unaware of her own charm.

"This is my daughter." Lord Adal proudly gestures.

Black hair falling like waves upon one's shoulders, eyes imbued with a star-like light, skin shimmering like bronze tampered with honey, and adorned with a sweet smile to her rosy lips.

"Good evening to you, Mr. Spade. My name is Bria Adal." Bria Adal presents a feather-light curtsy. Her eyes then finds itself into a pair of eyes with the color of rain.

Angelica smiles in acknowledgement, happy to meet someone her age.

"A nice evening, yes? I never thought I would meet one of England's largest tea company's owner in the flesh, much less summoned to personally meet him."

Lord Adal swirls his glass of wine in delight, "Say, I mean not to be rude, but I have a box of fine cigars I'd like to share with you while we talk about our business. Shall we?" He turns his body toward the ballroom exit, obviously referencing to the lounge room.

"Ah, it's a shame, Lord Adal. But the one who summoned you isn't me." Mr. Spade grins in withdrawal, "The one who called for you is none other than my daughter."

"Your daughter!? You jest, Mr. Spade! That couldn't be--"

"It's as true as day, my lord. I believe anyone could initiate business matters despite their gender and status. That said, it was Angelica's idea to form a partnership with you," He leers at the baffled lord, "I implore you, my lord. Please give her a chance, you won't regret choosing her." Mr. Spade glanced down to his daughter who beamed brightly due to his praise.

Lord Adal came this far only to be met with his business partner, who happened to be a young girl, as not to waste his chance of gaining a promising partnership, he relents with a heavy heart.

"So, what business venture do you have to offer, Miss Spade?" He cleared his throat.

Angelica swelled with pride, fully supported by her father's praise.

It is here that Lady Angelica first encountered the future Duchess of Naples, Lady Bria Adal, now known as Duchess Bria Giovanna. Their friendship lasted for a long time, it was revealed Lady Angelica summoned Lady Bria to enter the court of London's noble society as diplomats and business partners.

The conversation fell onto a magnificent end with Lord Adal chuckling over his new business partner, a young lady at that. To discuss further transaction and partnership, Mr. Spade led Lord Adal into the lounge room, the latter requested Angelica to take care of his daughter whilst he was gone.

The two young ladies chatted the without a care for the ball whilst drinking tea and eating light snacks. They found common interests in tea, Bria loves the tea she grew back home, Angelica meanwhile found joy in blending tea. If it wasn't for the presence of Lady Aria Hertz, Lady Adal's best friend whom she met on a summer ball, the conversation would've lasted through the night.

Angelica let the two young women exchange their greetings and chats about their well-beings, just as she was about to go and see her father, she saw the Duke of Naples, Giorno Giovanna, entering the ballroom, not long after he descended from the stair steps with his entourage following behind, he's surrounded by women, young and old.

Blushing maidens, eager mothers, excited matchmakers, all surrounded them like waves, competing for attention.

It's like watching an animal pouncing it's prey for meat, Miss Spade thought. Then again, Duke Giovanna's business is none of her concern. Her old friend must defend himself this time, without anyone's guidance.

Angelica had seen enough, she was about to leave until the door opens, making way to blond young man, with brilliant purple orbs for eyes.

Angelica froze is shock. She almost dropped her fan as she glanced at his form bathing in the dim candlelights.

Pannacotta Fugo, the Marquess of Montierri, her betrothed. He joins Duke Giovanna's inner circle, mingling with the noble gentlemen, partaking his place as one of the duke's most trusted friends.

Not knowing what to do. Angelica slips among the guests and ran straight to the lounge room, where her father resides.

His name is Pannacotta Fugo, the sole heir of the prestigious House Fugo. His family had bore the title of Marquess of Montierri from a long line of generations. House Fugo is quite reputable for being a prestigious and old house, they are respected among the european high society. After all, their powerful stance goes a long way back to the past and that power has stayed within their house until now. However, that reputation collapsed not so long ago when Marquess and Marchioness Fugo's son, the heir of house Fugo, was involved in a scandal.

He was rumored to once bludgeoned a tutor to death. That rumor turned out to be not far from the truth, while it is true that Pannacotta had killed his own teacher, he did out of self-defense, rumor said. House Fugo didn't hesitate to release their one and only heir from the bonds of trial, much less the confines of a jail, using their wealth.

Since then, no one would dare to socialize with Lord Pannacotta Fugo and no house is willing to give their daughters to marry him. Not the royals, not the nobles, not even the gentry. Until now, the lord's father himself had to arrange a union for his troublesome son, and of all women in the world, it has to be a Lady Angelica.

And the question remains.....why?

Marquess Fugo's father and mother demands an audience with Mr. Spade. He travelled all the way from Italy to find a bride for his son. The marquess is now too old to rule, he intended to pass down his title to his only son. But his family was crushed by a great shame brought by said son. He admitted that he was turned away at every single great houses, lower houses, even the gentry dared to oust him, although subtly, he was rejected at every turn.

Out of ideas, the marquess heard of a kind and humane daughter of a successful tea merchant in England. With no other way, he swallowed his pride, negotiating a union between his son and a commoner girl, she is rich, but, still a commoner. His son will have a bride and all the wealth she had, while the girl would be given a title of nobility.

Fugo was supposed to meet his fiancée tonight, but, she's nowhere to be found. The ballroom is expansive, however, he had searched around the room for a sign of Angelica, and none he found.

If he listened to what his father said, he described Fugo's betrothed as a maiden with dark brown hair, almost as dark as soil, possessing a pair of pale blue eyes.

The color of rain, his father reminded.

"I couldn't find her anywhere, GioGio," he sighed, "I've explored the entire ballroom only to find nothing, I'm starting to think she might have abandoned me here."

Giorno was perplexed to say the least, he was familiar with his old friend, she wouldn't avoid anyone unless she has a reason to, "Rest assured, dear friend. I'm certain she was merely shy to meet her future husband," he gave a reassuring yet playful smile, "Furthermore, it's rude of you to approach a lady without ever engaging a conversation with her. Give her some time, this is the first social gathering you attended as a couple,"

Fugo unconsciously scratched his hand, "I'm worried, Giorno. Something might have happened to her--"

"Fugo, calm down. You'll find her eventually," Abbacchio gave a harsh pat to his back as he downed a glass of wine, "This brat might be right, your future wife is shy," he hissed, delivering Giorno a condescending smirk, "But, isn't she three years older than you?"

"If you didn't find her, let's just hit the bar!" Narancia added, only to have his head smacked.

"Idiot! You're not even allowed to go there!" Fugo barked.

"Hey, I'm older than you!" Narancia tenderly nursed the spot where Fugo striked.

"Quit it, both of you," scold Bucciarati, "We're here to make sure Narancia had a smooth debut, not to bicker and roughouse like hooligans."

Both of them stopped their dispute immediately.

"Keep an eye when you find her, Fugo," Bucciarati commanded, "Unfortunate things happen so often these days. Accidents, death, it's common these days, as common as seeing an child factory worker wounded,"

The remark was duly noted.

Marquess Fugo was about to give up his pursue and return to Duke Giovanna when out of nowhere, Mr. Spade appears behind him. Truth to be told, he was startled but showed respect nonetheless. Exchanging a few greetings, Mr. Spade brought the young marquess to the lounge room where they chatted.

The gentle and amicable Mr. Spade continued to converse with the young man. Fugo deemed the conversation to be a hidden interrogation by his future father-in-law, then again, the man seemed to genuinely care for his future son-in-law judging by his words.

"Pardon me for interrupting, sir," Fugo gingerly opens his mouth, "But, I haven't seen my fiancée anywhere tonight. May I ask where she is?"

"Oh, silly me! I forgot to tell you," he let out a half-suppressed laugh, "Angelica is not feeling well, she went home,"

Mr. Spade could see the disappointment in Fugo's face, "I see..." he trailed off.

"Not to worry, you'll be able to see her tomorrow," Mr. Spade gently drops a box of fine cigars on the table, "Anyways, how about a smoke to pass the time? It would be a waste not to."

The edge of Fugo's eye twitched at the sight. He had always hated smoking, offering him a cigar sounds offensive to his dignity as a sober youth.

Fugo averted his gaze, "I hate to tell you this, sir," he waved off his hand, "But, I detest smoking."

"Ah! That's not a problem at all!" Mr. Spade chuckled as he took the box back, putting it where it belongs, atop the drawer.

Such a chaotic reputation!

A woman wouldn't risk being married to a known to be violent man, even commoners knew that.

How rude of him for daring to court his betrothed without a semblance of dignity. I'd say they never even had a simple conversation since they never met. The ball was meant to introduce them to one another but he chose an aggressive and direct way, asking the guests on the whereabouts of Lady Angelica.

However, we could not deny that Lady Angelica also has faults for not acknowledging her soon-to-be husband despite being present at the ball, what an un-ladylike action.

With that aside, is it a mystery that the lady chose to marry the brute of a man? Certainly she had a reason to accept, or was she forced to form a matrimony with the marquess?

Fugo left Mr. Spade impressed more than he expect. He had knowledge of the violence his son-in-law is capable of. But the more he examined, there was a caring and serious youth. He can tell Fugo carried a great burden inside his heart.

If he was honest, Mr. Spade intended to reject House Fugo's proposal, but he allowed them to do so, curious of what would come.

And why not? This was a chance to elevate their status, providing his daughter a comfortable life as a noblewoman. Mr. Spade could always trust her to take care of herself if her husband is not her type, or if he starts beating her. But, he knew, when he saw Pannacotta Fugo's portrait, history, and scholar diplomas, he knew this young man would caught his daughter's fancy. So he obliged to the noble's proposal.

However, he encountered a strange occurrence a few hours ago.

When Lord Adal has left a suitable negotiation term and bid adieu, Angelica came bursting through the door, her cheeks red and her breath is ragged. She was dead silent at first, then paced back and forth, toying with her fan, he could hear her mumbling incoherent sentences. Mr. Spade couldn't hold back his smirk, of course he knew his daughter's tastes. It seems the suitor he chose has enough to conquer her. It wasn't complete, however. Taking his daughter's trust issues into consideration, it won't be an easy path for a successful marriage between her and the marquess.

And so it was, his peculiar daughter asked him to give the marquess some cigars. If he gladly took a smoke, then she would refuse to accept him as her husband, but if he is not a smoker, then Angelica would accept his proposal with pleasure.

"Well? What do you think, Angelica?" Mr. Spade asked his daughter who hid half of her body with the bathroom's door. Her gaze was casted down as a soft smile crept to her lips.

"Father, I want to marry him."

The wedding was simple, but tasteful. If you weren't invited, shame one you!

It's one of the most gorgeous wedding of the season, or of the decade. Influential commoners, members of the royal court, and the high-ranked nobles attended the wedding, but the invitation was distributed as a private affair. It wasn't an open wedding per se, only those who knew Lord and Lady Fugo may enter the premises.

Lady Angelica Fugo's wedding dress was the current envy at the time. The designer was of common origins, yet talented nontheless. Lady Fugo is so grateful that she invited the tailor to attend her wedding as a guest!

"What would your bouquet be?" asked Trish Una, the young woman lounging on the boutique's sofa, fanning herself with a pink fan.

"Purple hydrangeas," Angelica stood still as the tailor tidied her wedding dress, "I've grown the flowers myself. The florist shall take care of the rest."

"Stay still, milady," the tailor mused, "The dress seems to fit you perfectly! All that is left is your headdress," she scurried into the back of the boutique.

Trish eyed her friend sharply, "Why did you choose this boutique anyways? I could have recommended a more high-end boutique for you. They all knew me, you see?"

Marchioness Trish Una, the flower of high society, and a socialite, was never out of style. A trendsetter, every fashion she wore would be trending the next day. As the daughter of the former Duke of Naples, Diavolo, she inherited half of his riches, increasing said riches by investing in the fashion industry and becoming a darling in the fashion industry.

Some boutiques even gave her dresses, free of charge. Her wearing their dresses are more than enough publicity to elevate their status among the top designers in Italy. And now, the Marchioness of Campania spent her days as a socialite and a singer. Her dulcet voice apparently has charmed the theaters, and Angelica is no exception.

"The designer of this boutique is a friend of mine, I am her patron, my lady." Angelica quietly smiled at her reflection, the picture of a bride, "Furthermore, she doesn't produce this dress off the backs of the poor and their children. I exalt her, she's a decent woman."

Trish closes her fan quickly, standing to admire her friend's wedding dress, "Yes, this embroidery is magnificent... there's sewn hydrangea flowers too." Trish appraised the flowing white cloth as the tailor is back with a veil headdress.

"There," she gracefully placed it upon Angelica's head, "What do you think, Angelica?"

Angelica clapped gently, "Fantastic! Your work never cease to amaze me, Abella." She draws out an embellished, fancy letter, extending her hand toward Abella.

"Angelica...?" Abella was speechless, to have the honor of attending a noble's wedding was something that doesn't happen every day. Also, she would see her friend walking down the aisle with the dress she personally tailored.

Trish softly laughed behind her fan, knowing she had to visit the designer for a boutique fitting the next time she shops.

"I'd be grateful for your presence if you decide to attend the wedding, not as a stranger, but as a friend."

No longer than a month, Miss Angelica Spade became Lady Angelica Fugo, Marchioness of Montierri. The news shattered the expectations of so many nobles. Most are relieved to see the marquess matched with someone who wasn't them. After all, the estranged Marquess Fugo was bad news, he was ruthless and short-tempered, there would be no more sacrifices to be made. But, on the other hand, some were enraged at the thought of a commoner girl marrying a nobleman, and of a powerful house no less.

It seems the court's panic died down when Marquess of Montierri seemed to be tamed by his own wife. How shocking!

It was told, the marquess's temper cooled off like Alaskan snow, melting in summer. But, make no mistake, he is still ruthless.

That beast of a lord had a mind sharper than knife, and no one had the power to deny his merits as a renowned scholar despite harming a soul.

What sort of tricks did the marchioness use? Surely the marquess wouldn't accept her into his family without a particular reason. Could it be the marchioness puppeteering her husband for her own again? If so, then she did a splendid job controlling the wild beast of a man who would sooner bash someone's head than to calm down.

My dearest ladies and gentlemen, apparently Marquess Fugo's wrath has been quelled, here we have the proof of his decreasinfg temper slowly dying, especially in the presence of his wife. We shall rejoice in the fact that gone are the days where the infamous Marquess Fugo would extend his ruthlessness to innocents.

And why do we celebrate? Well, it's not difficult at all to tell the marquess is in lo--

"Which blundering whore wrote this article!? Ucciderò quella puttana!"

Rip!

Marquess Fugo tore the gossip article in half. He was undoubtedly furious, how dare the writer discuss his wife's private life, their marriage, his his past, and the countless rumors surrounding them.

His wife, Angelica, meanwhile bursted into a fit of giggles, swelling into a laugh.

"My, my! What an interesting article!" She chimed, her husband was a whole different picture, he threw the papers onto the ground, Angelica embraced Fugo from behind, circling her arms to brought their bodies closer to each other, "All that happened in the past is not a burden, darling. I am rather grateful to have my name be graced upon the infamous gossip papers." Angelica stroke Fugo's torso as a way to calm his nerves, proven to be effective as his growling, heavy breaths died down.

When he turned to Angelica, concern was written across his emotions, his palms tenderly cupped her cheeks, "Do you think I would stand back and do nothing?" He seethed, "Your name is dragged through the mud, they accused you of being a two-faced, sly fox, I will not tolerate that!" Fugo snapped, arms gripping the edges of his study desk.

"If they refused to cease the nonsense, might as well I pay a visit to Abbey Mirror News to bring forth a complaint of defamation." The desk's wood cracks beneath the pressure of his grip.

Even though Angelica doesn't let her emotions show, Fugo has seen her deepest emotion after years of marriage. He's heartbroken to hear the love of his life turned into a laughingstock and target of insults, which is why to save her tears, he'd do anything.

"Pannacotta, please perish the thought," Angelica put a hand on his shoulder, "No offense were given, and none taken. As I said, if the story contains an ability to entertain its reader, I am truly happy my tale was used to entertain,"

Fugo admitted defeat, deciding he couldn't win against his wife.

What he didn't know was the fact Angelica strategically supported the prints of the gossip papers. Yes, she has kindness, but that doesn't imply she can not be cunning and shrewd, does it?

"How about a game of chess? To alleviate your darkening mood?" Angelica straightens his tie, giving a kiss to his collarbone. Imagine if this interaction happened in public. People would shun her and her husband for their improper act, but this is their home. Why should she abide to their rules?

"I'll brew you some tea. Wait here, alright?" Fugo acknowledged, planting a smile to his wife. He always knew what his wife wants, rarely did he missed the mark, five years of marriage tells a lot about each other.

Did they fight? Most definitely, even three years ago they almost killed each other in rage, but their marriage endured. Just like Angelica's plan to make her company withstand the tides of time at least for a century, she fully intended to dedicate her life to her beloved husband.

Thanks to the humane Angelica, Pannacotta learns what mindfulness and mercy is, while he stimulates her mind to do greater things, challenging her at every turn to rise to his level of knowledge.

Taking the fallen, ripped leaflet of society papers, Angelica reclined on a purple chaise lounge, piecing the papers together, reading the last lines.

--ve. Should we even call it a match made in heaven?

Despite the low status of the bride, the wedding was held with almost no trouble, except for the rowdy Baron Berner, Lord Narancia Ghirga and the Earl of Lennox, Guido Mista.

As of now, the Fugo couple is one of the high society's most respected aristocrat. Regarding the matters of the marquess as a talented scholar, and a trusted vassal of Duke of Naples, he managed to acquire several lands and factories over the years, inviting european diplomats and noble house hailing from his home, Italy, forming strong alliances under the banner of Duke Giovanna.

That said, were you on Duke Giovanna's party last week?

If not, how unfortunate of you! Almost half of the country's successful bachelors came gathering to meet Duke of Naples before he returned to Italy with the Duchess.

Interestingly, Marchioness of Montierri was responsible for providing scholarships for those successful gentlemen, and they came to give her their thanks.

Was it a mere rumor? A lie? Only time will tell.

"Say, cara. May I know who wrote their article?" Fugo moved his knight on the chessboard.

Angelica sipped her tea in a calm manner, "The name is on the bottom of the paper, my darling. Take a look."

Yours ever,

Lady Featherly

#jjba x oc #pannacotta fugo #angelica spade #aria pamina hertz #bria giovanna #narancia ghirga #guido mista #leone abbacchio #victorian au #fugo x angelica #oc x canon #jjba oc

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dancingdanvers · 1 year

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Welcome to Aurora Bay, [CAROLINE JAYME]! I couldn’t help but notice you look an awful lot like [BRITT ROBERTSON]. You must be the [TWENTY EIGHT] year old [EVENT PLANNER]. Word is you’re [LOYAL] but can also be a bit [PEDANTIC] and your favorite song is [THE SHOW - LENKA]. I also heard you’ll be staying in [OCEAN CREST APARTMENTS]. I’m sure you’ll love it!

[[ Cancer mention tw]]

Thanks to Caroline’s father being English, the girl was born in London after her mother moved there to live with him. They’d been married for five years when they found out she was expecting a baby and even though that was known to bring two people together it only drove Mr and Mrs Jayme apart, escalating into loud frequent rows until he walked out on them not long after Caroline’s sixth birthday.

The woman took her husband’s leaving incredibly hard but after two further years of living in England she decided the best thing to do was return to her hometown of Aurora Bay with her young daughter to be closer to what she knew and around the people she’d grown up with.

The move made Carrie very nervous, going to a place she’d never been in her life, she clung onto her mother even more than she did before. A mommy’s girl through and through the girl already considered the woman her best friend, she was effectively her mini me. To cope with the transatlantic move she started to read even more than she already did, escaping into fictional worlds where she could be instantly transported wherever she wanted to be. It was a way for her to cope with her anxiety which was something she’d always suffered with but was only made worse by the significant life changes that had been inflicted on her.

Life passed uneventfully for the next ten years as Carrie made her way through school, a naturally academic girl, she did well in most of her classes and while she didn’t have a huge number of friends she had a those she trusted the most which worked for her. Loyal in nature trust was very important to her, the social intricacies of high school especially left her utterly baffled. Not understanding why so much judgment was passed over what someone wore or what they did or did not have, not seeing the attraction of cheerleading or football as something to be revered. Finding it pretty boring on the whole.

Caroline was twenty five when her mother got sick. The cancer was already stage three when the doctors discovered it during what was meant to be a routine physical, and less than a year later she had passed away leaving Carrie all alone. Never having had any siblings and her father no longer in contact with his only child, she’d lost her only family as well as her best friend all at the same time. It wasn’t something she dealt with very well, going out a little more than she usually did, drinking to try to cope. Not too much but since she’d never really been one for alcohol before that it would easily go to her head, allowing her to fall asleep a little more easily.

One night stands were something the blonde had never had before so when she did have her first with Gavin Carrigan the last thing she could have imagined in a million years would that it would result in her falling pregnant with his child. Effectively a stranger she didn’t have any concept of how to communicate the information with him, tell him she was pregnant, so instead she just left town. Avoiding having to do it altogether by moving entirely, selling her family home which felt like it was ripping a void inside her as she did. Caroline headed to the East Coast to live with some friends from collage, choosing to stay there even after she gave birth to her son Hindley Jayme, named after the character from Wuthering Hights which had for a long time been one of her favourite books. It was also possible that she’d subconsciously remembered from the one night they spent together that Gavin was into music, the song Wuthering Hights by Kate Bush being one of Carrie’s other favourite things, but it was also possible this was entirely a coincidence.

Offered a well paying job as an event planner in a company run by a long time friend of her mother’s back in Aurora Bay the logical side of Caroline knew that she had to take it. It would allow for her to provide for her son easier, not to mention the guilt she’d been feeling over the last couple of years keeping the little boy from Gavin when he was almost a mini version of his father to look at, drove her back to the town. Getting them an apartment at Ocean Crest she holds the dream in her heart of being able to buy back the home she shared with her mom, but for now she was happy just trying to find her footing once more in the town she had called home for so long.

Sweet, a little nervous, pedantic, the kind of person who zones in on tiny details (which works well for her job but less well in her general life), Caroline is honestly the kind of person who is just trying to do her best. Trying to juggle being a first time single mom as well as working a full time job, while all the time not crumbling under the various life pressures that everyone has to deal with. Her son is the apple of her eye, there is no one Carrie dotes on more, but that also means she spends a lot of time worrying about him. However she is growing in confidence as a mom as time passes. A big reader, lover of baking, very type A in the way she chooses to work, you’ll never find her using the calendar on her phone, instead choosing always to use a paper diary to keep track of what was going on in her life. With Hindley at nursery three mornings a week those are the times she’s using to rediscover who she is as a person outside of being a mother which is actually something she’s really enjoying.

#aurorabay.intro #about #scrapbook #tw: cancer #intro

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grxxk-tragxdy · 1 year

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𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄. Kit Joseph Garrow

𝐀𝐊𝐀. Kit; Son of Green;

𝐀𝐆𝐄. 27

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 & 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐒. cis man & he/him/they

𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍. bisexual

𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐒. demigod, son of demeter

𝐎𝐂𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍. drug dealer, self taught botanist

𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑. dark brown that has a red tint in the sunlight; long curls that goes past his shoulders that he tends to keep pulled up to stay out of his way

𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒. brown chocolate button eyes

𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓. 6 ft

𝐁𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐃. thin as a stick; lanky; most of his muscles are in his legs and arms

𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐒. covered patchyly; has flowers that start on the back of his left hand that travels up his arm making a full sleeve all of types of flowers/plants; has a various other ones on his right arm as well as his chest and back; his most recent is a green snake that curls around his calf; has ‘even darkness must pass’ written in Tolkien’s elfish down his spine.

𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. has his septum pierced but doesn’t always have a ring in it just a retainer; his ears have at least three rings on the lobes as well as an industrial on his right ear that occasionally gets caught in his curls; both nipples are pierced; prince albert

𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌. joseph quinn

𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓. chaotic good

𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐒. outgoing, comical, loving, loyal

𝐍𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐒. scared, will put others before himself, recluse

𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐒. drugs (sticks to the weed and shrooms he grows), playing Dungeons and Dragons, reading fantasy books, playing guitar, watching anything nerdy, planting in his garden/greenhouse

𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐋. ADHD and is medicated but sometimes forgets to take his meds

𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋. a few random scars scattered about his body; most from dumb childhood shit but has one on his forehead from the car crash he was in at age 11; a hand/forearm of flexible stone that he got from almost dying when the demis face hercules

𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐀𝐒. cars; darkness

𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓. wears glasses and contacts

𝐃𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃. right

𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐆 𝐔𝐒𝐄. yes please

𝐀𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐇𝐎𝐋 𝐔𝐒𝐄. mostly cheap beer he gets his hands on or scotch when he is feeling fancy

𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐓. tries to eat as organic and pure as he can but is not a vegan or a vegetarian. of course there are a lot of days where he gets so hyper focused in his work that he forgets to eat and can be found scurrying to the nearest microwave to heat up hot pockets. he also has been known to live off of twizzlers and cheap beer.

𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄. london, england

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒. Unknown father. Mother- Demeter (goddess). Adoptive grandparents raised him - (Oliver and Florence Garrow)

𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. none mortal

𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐒. Samwise- Green Tree Python

𝐄𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍. Finished Secondary school and stopped

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐒. can play guitar but doesnt show it off often. can tie a cherry stem in his mouth. can do a backflip. has good aim with a bow thanks to the years of scouts his grandparents put him through.

𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐈𝐎:

- Kit was raised in the UK by his Nan and Pa. He is not 100% sure if those are his real grandparents since they woke up one morning and he was a newborn in a basket on their doorstep but they were all he knew.

- They picked the name Kit for him because when they found him, across the road a mother fox was watching with her kits almost as if to make sure he was found safe.

- Kit discovered his love of flowers through his Nan and helping her in the garden learning all about the flowers and herbs she was growing. He even was curious about the weeds she was picking out of her flowerbeds declaring that they were important too.

- When he was 11 his grandparents and him were in a car crash. He was the only one to survive and it shattered him with guilt. Nowhere to go and no family to speak of, he was found and brought to camp.

- At camp he quickly made himself a home with a few close friends but also in the garden/greenhouse. While he does have his own room, he tends to prefer sleeping on a cot in the garden/greenhouse finding it peaceful to be surrounded by plants.

- Kit was diagnosed with ADHD when he was younger so he tends to fidget to keep himself from exploding with energy. Loud music is what keeps his racing thoughts toned down and the music can often be heard blaring from the garden/greenhouse at all hours.

- Kit doesn’t try to hide the fact he sells medicinal plants and drugs. While he tries to keep it to his naturally grown drugs, he can get his hand on pretty much whatever someone needs.

- Because of this little hustle he has been in jail a few times due to possession in countries he isn’t supposed to have any in when he’s traveling away from camp.

- His longest stint was his most recent, causing him to be away from camp for a year and he has just now returned in full gear ready to take care of his plants and be the local chaotic ball of energy once more.

- Kit has the personality that he thinks that a stranger is a friend you haven’t met yet. He loves meeting new people and will never forget a face.

- He is a horrible cook and though he tries to eat as organic as he can, there are times where he lives off of junk food (his favorite “meal” is twizzlers and beer).

- One thing he is proud of, is the fact he only uses plants for medicine. He has never had any modern medicine and can often be found with some of the medicinal plants he grows on his person in a small pouch.

- Kit also has genderless days; he doesn’t make a big deal of it, it’s just days he is feeling a bit more feminine and pretty. Normally he keeps it to himself.

#𝔟𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔫𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔰𝔥𝔞𝔡𝔢 ( muse )#conquerhqintro

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tingslisbon · 11 months

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#TingsLisbon

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early2000smovieimagines · 3 years

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Meeting and Dating Ahkmenrah

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

(This movie was my childhood. Brings back so many good memories ...and crushes.)

- You’d worked at quite a few museums in your day but none of them were quite like the Museum of Natural History; a fact you’d be made aware of very suddenly and without warning.

- You were somewhat new to the building, hired to do work on the exhibits since you were skilled in restoration and design. You weren’t a night worker, at least you weren’t supposed to be, but you’d accidentally dropped something as you were leaving your office and were forced to stay late to clean it up.

- After a few moments of sweeping, you’d heard a commotion upstairs and as you went to leave the museum; and investigate, you’d walked straight into the beautiful chaos of a night at the museum.

- Let’s just say that Larry had a lot to explain, all of which you took surprisingly well; though you didn’t have much of a choice now did you?

- Ahkmenrah spotted you from across the museum and watched as you made your way around the new magical world, staring at every person and thing in awe. He spied on you throughout the night and found that when he’d finally thought it appropriate to approach you, the sun was already beginning to rise.

- So the next day, he asks Larry about you, pretending as though he’s asking for no reason at all. Larry knowingly offers to introduce the two of you and the mummy drops the act, eagerly accepting.

“I’d like that very much, yes.”

- Larry approaches you with the sparkling pharaoh and is soon called away by someone else, leaving the two of you alone to speak. Ahkmenrah motions over to a bench nearby, commenting that it “must be a lot to get used to” as you both take a seat. You laugh in agreement and before you know it, the two of you are engaged in a conversation.

- Ahkmenrah’s sweet, he’s charming, he’s handsome, and he’s quite enamored with you; though you don’t know that just yet.

- Soon enough, it’s time for the sun to rise and he takes notice, begrudgingly standing and admitting that he “must say goodbye”. You respond with a somewhat disappointed goodbye yourself, watching as he begins to walk away before he turns and says “I should like to see you tomorrow ...to continue our conversation” to which you happily agree.

- The two of you become close fairly quickly. Anytime he spots you in a room, he makes a beeline towards you; both because he really likes you and because he’s somewhat awkward himself.

- He always likes being there for you, considering you’re new and not used to all that history coming to life stuff. He takes pride in being your guide and sort of likes the feeling of you depending on him a bit.

- Your “friendship” takes an obvious romantic turn, particularly; and outwardly, on his side; I say “friendship” because it was probably somewhat obvious from that he liked you more than that even from the beginning.

- He compliments you, oftentimes earnestly and quietly calling you beautiful, uses any excuse to touch you and your clothes, etc. He awes you with talks of Egypt and sweeps you off your feet quite easily. It’s really only a matter of time before the two of you get together.

- That “time” comes one day as you’re both sitting all alone. The room is dark and warmly lit and you’re sitting so close that his knees are touching yours. His hands hold yours as he speaks quietly to you and your face is leaned in close so that you can hear him.

- And then it just happens, your faces close in and you kiss, his grasp tightening around your hands.

- You’re interrupted by one of the others, most likely Larry who quickly apologizes and mentions something about the sun coming up before leaving the two of you be. Ahkmenrah turns back to you, saying something along the lines of “so we must once again say goodbye” with a small smile.

“It would appear so.” You respond, though you’re hesitant to move from your place. But alas, the sun has to rise and you have to go home.

“Tomorrow then,” He smiles at you, giving your hand one last squeeze. “...My queen.”

- You leave that morning, eager for the daylight to go and for you to be reunited with your newfound lover once more.

- Ahkmenrahs from ancient Egypt so I’m sure he isn’t particularly accustomed to “normal” Pda. That being said, he is somewhat dorky and practically has an entire hall to himself so he either just gives you innocent pda or the two of you go to his exhibit; and not have to worry about anyone seeing you.

- He’s been locked up in a sarcophagus for about fifty years; or more, so he’s arguably a bit touch starved. He’s always trying to touch you in some way and absolutely loves it whenever you touch him.

- He likes holding both your hands in his, occasionally bringing one of them to his lips. He just likes touching your hands in general if we’re being honest.

- Gentle caresses. He’s in love, leave him alone.

- Forehead and cheek kisses. He likes prolonging the amount of time his lips spend on your skin; a normal prolonged amount of time of course.

- Long, soft kisses.

- Loving makeout sessions. His hands roam your back and pull you in as close as they can whenever you have one.

- He likes laying between your legs and/or resting his head in your lap.

- Cuddling with your arms wrapped around each other and your head resting against his shoulder. He likes laying and talking with you, playing with the fingers that lay on his chest.

- Having his robes draped over and around you.

- He likes having you with him at all times, both because he’s protective of you and because he can’t bear to be away from you for more than a few hours.

- You’ll usually hang back and cling to his arm whenever you’re standing together. He likes feeling your presence at his side and the light grip you have on him.

- A bit clingy. He only gets to see you at night and has been alone for quite some time, of course he’s gonna want to be around you as much as possible.

- He always gets somewhat flustered when you give him gifts; particularly sweet things like flowers. You would have sworn you’d given him your underwear with the way he smiles and blushes in response.

- Ahkmenrah was the favorite son so he was a bit spoiled as a child. That being said, he’s surprisingly humble and sweet for a pharaoh that was given the best of everything.

- He’s probably teared up a little because of you at some point, whether it be your actions or just the fact that you’re there with him. He can get a bit emotional at times.

- Dancing together. We all saw how beautifully that man can move.

- Sneaking him out every once in a while. He really likes your apartment; even if you’re sort of embarrassed because he’s a literal pharaoh and lived in a temple when he was alive.

- Movie dates. They’re the easiest thing to do with him and he’s missed out on pretty much all of them so he’s got a lot of catching up to do.

- Listening to music together.

- Considering his time at Cambridge and just the way he is, he may or may not wax poetic about or at you on occasion. He gets a little embarrassed when he realizes that he’s doing it but it’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard/seen.

- Compliments and lots of them; usually paired with a term of endearment.

- He uses a lot of pet names on you, usually somewhat old fashioned ones. My dear, my sun, my queen, etc.

- He’s the cutest when posing for photos. He tries to look all regal in the beginning but it quickly dissolves into the adorable dorkiness that you know so well.

- The boy is lovestruck. He could sit and watch you do nothing with this look of unwavering love on his face for hours. Need to do some work? Thats totally fine. He’ll just sit there and love you.

- Please let him braid your hair. There’s just something that’s so relaxing and sweet about it to him.

- He has a hard time saying no to you. You’re his queen after all, you should have everything you could ever dream of; and he’s just too sweet to deny nearly anyone.

- Polite and respectful, Ahkmenrah is a gentleman with incredibly good manners. You’ll never be disappointed in his behavior.

- Helping Larry and him take care of the museum and tablet.

- Teaching him about all he’s missed.

- Always having a translator. He certainly comes in handy when you’re traveling around the museum and run into some “hostile” exhibits.

- Getting quietly and excitedly told a bunch of stories. He’s always so adorably eager to tell you about his life; whether it be about Ancient Egypt or more present times.

- He wants to introduce you to his parents so badly; though he’s somewhat embarrassed by them. Maybe you’ll transfer to the London museum for a bit?

- Getting bragged about. He always makes you sound cooler than you really are, though in your case, that’s just how he sees you.

- Stopping him from making morbid comments; oftentimes at the wrong time, or just giving him a look. He’s got a sort of different view on what’s exactly an acceptable thing to say.

“Too dark?”

- Sharing looks and making comments to each other.

- He’s always so gentle and caring with you; especially when you’re hurt or upset. He prides himself on being by your side and taking care of you.

- He’s a fairly patient person; especially with you. I mean, he’s had to wait a lot more than a few years to be let out of his sarcophagus so one can assume that he’d be good at that sort of thing.

- He’s not a terribly jealous person. Arguably, if you choose to be in a difficult relationship with a mummy, then you obviously want that relationship, right? He’s loyal and he expects you to be as well; that’s how it was in his times.

- That being said: if someone shows interest in you then he’ll get a bit jealous; though he’ll save his real jealousy for when he gets to see how you respond to them and how they respond to him making it known that you’re together.

- The museum can certainly get a bit dangerous at times; and he can only be there for you when you’re there, so of course he’ll be protective of and worry about you. He looks out for you and tells you to be careful every time you’re saying goodbye.

- The two of you hardly ever fight or argue, you’re just compatible with each other; and you rarely have the time to do so anyway. Plus, your pharaoh doesn’t have a mean bone in his body and lives to please you, so why would he try to fight with you?

- If he’s somehow done something; which is highly unlikely, he’ll apologize the minute that he realizes he’s upset you or thinks that he has. He’ll give you space if you want or need it and welcomes you back with open arms when you’re ready.

- If you’ve upset him then he’ll do his best to give you the silent treatment and act professional with you; not quite cold but not loving like he usually is. He’ll do so until you apologize and he cracks, shyly accepting your apology and reverting back to his sweet self.

- Lots of I love yous. You’re his queen, what do you expect?

- Your relationship is certainly going to be a bit challenging, but the happiness and love you feel with each other is worth it.

#ahkmenrah imagine #ahkmenrah headcanons #ahkmenrah headcanon #ahkmenrah imagines #night at the museum imagine #night at the museum headcanon #night at the museum imagines #night at the museum headcanons #early 2000s movie headcanon #early 2000s movie headcanons #early 2000s movie imagine #early 2000s movie imagines #rami malek imagine

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romanticrry · 3 years

Text

Watermelon Sugar

He definitely was crazy. It has been confirmed multiple times. So it wasn’t a big surprise when he casually, in the middle of winter, came and sit on the cold sand of the Brighton beach. He liked this place. Wasn’t coming there very often because most of the summer he spend in United States or Italy and when he was coming back to England, he was busy with his loved ones or work in London.

Well, this time the weather didn’t really matter. It was freezing. He could feel his skin becoming cooler with every wave of winter wind. It was pretty early, almost nine in the morning. It all felt weird. Like from that strange comedy that you watched and when it ended, realizing that you just wasted almost two hours of your life. He was going to bed too early or too late. Waking up before the sunrise. He tried to stay motivated while being in the studio but found that he couldn’t focus there anymore. For Harry, writing in the studio always felt good. He was full of ideas, colors. But not anymore. Now all these people around him felt like it was too much. He needed different places where he could write. Alone. With no one behind his back.

So there he was with his ass literally dipped in icy sand in the middle of the beach. Obviously, he was alone. Who the hell would go to the beach at the end of the year in England? No one.

His body, wrapped in a huge jacket and warm jumper underneath, didn’t really feel cold. He liked cold weather, it made him feel that he was alive. The shivers down his spine, numb fingers. It wasn’t really nice but felt kind of exciting somewhere deep in his mind.

His hands laid out flat on his thighs. He was staring at the sea, so loud and intensive yet so calming. Deep breaths looked like smoke, and his fingers felt fully numb. The glacial air caused pain inside his nose every time he was breathing in.

He couldn’t get it out of his head. The endless need to scream was circling around his lungs. It all felt too much. Overwhelming. Enormous waves of sadness were mixed with anger and made him wanna throw up. His eyes were glossy, red and itchy, almost like he just rolled himself a good joint. Well, in reality, he was far away from this state of mind.

He wanted to get out of this. Finally, find some happiness and sweetness to forget about the bitter taste on the tip of his tongue. He needed honey. And for fuck’s sake, call him a whore, but he needed the sweet honey from her.

It almost made him feel guilty. He missed her for months. Missed her voice, touch, smell. Not once thought about her soft thighs or plumpy lips. But now, he couldn’t fight it anymore. He was going crazy, just needing to taste her sweet skin and once again see how her pupils are widening when her muscles are clenching around him and lips are parting with a long moan, sounding almost like a little scream.

Or when his lips were wet with her arousal and his breathing fast while her hands tucked into his hair, looking for freedom. Her mouth, always so glossy and soft, he could kiss her all day and night, not even needing sleep. She was his slumber. The source of rest.

His sunrise and sunset. His moon in the middle of storm. Everything he ever wanted and needed, she had. The biggest desire, perfect daydream.

They were passionate lovers and loyal best friends. This kind of love you’re reading about in beautiful poems or books. They were a poem. The perfect one. They were a book that you can’t stop reading. This story that makes you go earlier to bed only to read one more chapter.

It was a romance. Crazy, dirty, and sometimes unreal romance. They used to sip wine on the roofs of tall buildings in New York and leave parties early, only to fuck like horny teenagers in the backseat of his car. It all seemed like a scene from your favourite movie and maybe this is why Harry understood it had to end. Actually, no, he didn’t understand. But felt like it was a right thing to do. All things must pass.

Could she just give it to him one more time? Just for a quick second, kiss his mouth and scratch his back in this one, exact, passionate, sexual act. He felt high on her. This kind of high that could last forever.

Taste like strawberries on a summer evening.

If he had to compare her to something, it would be this happy summer time. When you’re sitting with people you know since forever, drinking wine and eating sweet fruits. Joking about the past, feeling that this is the place you’re meant to be on this exact moment. Without any worries and things that you have to do tomorrow.

Breathe me in, breathe me out.

He just couldn’t stop thinking about this scenery stuck in his head. Hot bedsheets in the middle of night, candles lighting the corner of the room. His body covered in sweat and hands so messy on her hips. Their mouth would be parted, breathing in and out each other’s air, feeling the intimacy of this second. Her tongue would lick his lips while desperately wanting to let go.

Watermelon sugar high.

She was just like this fruit. Watermelon. Could quench his thirst better than water. So wet and glossy, almost kissable. Watermelon covered in sugar because she was that sweet. Her every move seemed almost holy. Innocent even in the most filthy second. He was high on her. She was like his personal drug. He was always in a huge need to taste every single inch of her. Lick it, bite it, ruin it, kiss it. Overwhelming, was it?

Baby, you’re the end of June.

27th June was when they met for the first time. He saw her in a local library, looking for some poetry. Romantic, he thought. He sat down on a bench to read a bit, but couldn’t stop staring at her. It was almost like his gaze was stuck on her face. Her eyelids slowly moving, while her soft hands were touching the book cover so gently. He almost wished he was this book, only to be touched by her this way.

I want your belly.

His palm pressing her lower belly, feeling his own moves inside her. So dirty and spoiled. His lips were kissing her hot and sweat covered neck, moving to her collarbones and breasts. He felt free. It was his freedom. He always knew her the best. Loved her mindset and way of thinking, almost as if they were connected. But it was different. He felt like he knew her entire body. There was no place he didn’t know. And vice versa. They marked each other. Made only theirs.

I just wanna taste it.

God only knew how badly he wanted to feel this again. No one could ever replace her. No one. She was made for him. He fitted into her so perfectly. It was addicting. Being addicted to something was always a bad thing, but not this time. She was his wonderful drug. He felt full and good only with her. With her kiss on his eyelids and sweet scent in his mind.

Her.

Who was she?

He felt like an asshole thinking this, but he wished he could forget.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #watermelon sugar #fine line #harry x y/n #smut #harry #album

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vake-hunter · 3 years

Text

Fingerking and Devil lore post!

Spoilers for the Parabolan War, Heart’s Desire Endings, Nemesis Endings and Sunless Skies

So what are the Fingerkings anyway?

"We live behind the glass, the Fingerkings. Parabola is ours. If you want free passage of this place," it says, "that comes only from us." It flicks your ankle with the tip of a forked tongue. "Trust that I am the least dangerous of my kind."

It speaks other names. Orts. Boil. A Spire. Be cautious of these beings and places. Show respect, and do not make demands unless you are willing to bargain.

— Dome of Scales, Occupied in Parabola; Fallen London

What about the Devils?

"After the Well of the Wolf," he says, "the Devils could no longer remain in the sight of the Judgements: not if we intended to live. We escaped through Caduceus into Parabola, the place that is not; and from there onward. We were a people in exile. Not strong enough to take a place and hold it for our own. Not weak enough to be welcomed as refugees. It was an intolerable time and I take no pleasure in remembering it."

— Ask him about his memories of Caduceus via The Repentant Devil; Sunless Skies

Hold on, back up, The Well of the Wolf? What happened?

Revolution.

"It was a waste," the Repentant Devil says. "The protests, the peaceful fights and the violent ones. We were never likely to win by those methods."

You wait.

"Control what something consumes," he says, "and you control what it is. The feeding of stars is a delicate art. I had spent centuries in cultivating them, studying their palates, watching for evidence of their responsive growth. I had influence. Now, how much can any Devil say the same?"

— Ask more about rebelling against the Judgements via The Repentant Devil; Sunless Skies

So the Devils and the Fingerkings met in Caduceus.

[...]

The devils swarming into Parabola longed for many things: for souls, for escape, for their own deaths and the things that waited beyond each death. The Fingerkings saw their longing, and welcomed them as food.

The devils were bargainers, contract-writers, enemies of the stars. The Fingerkings saw their nature, and welcomed them as allies.

The devils were hollow, skin-shedders, eternally in chrysalis. The Fingerkings saw their capacity, and welcomed them as salvation.

— Receive the story in the form of cascabel venom via The Dome of Scales, Occupied; Fallen London

The Parlous Knot was the greatest Fingerking-congregation of its time: vast, numerous, indivisibly loyal.

It was the Knot that arranged the treaty. The devils would dwell in Parabola as long as they wished, but one day, they would depart, carrying any Fingerking who wished to possess a devil.

This Fingerking before you is descended from the Parlous Knot; it hatched on the day the bargain was fulfilled.

— Ancestral Stories via The Dome of Scales, Occupied; Fallen London

Aeons passed. The devils were in no haste to go. They built furnaces that scarred the land. They traded with Irem; they changed Irem. They searched the mirrors endlessly for a suitable destination in which to hide themselves, but always that goal remained out of reach – until they found the Neath. Until the first person brought the first looking-glass below.

Then they were ready to leave Parabola. Fulfilling their bargain, they opened their mouths to the Fingerkings, offering them transport into the Neath.

But the inside of a devil is too changeable, too corrosive. A Fingerking cannot survive in such a place. The Parlous Knot was dissolved in the gullet of a Grand Devil.

The devils returned alone to the Is, unpossessed, and the Fingerkings remained, trapped without change.

— Ancestral Stories via The Dome of Scales, Occupied; Fallen London

Slightly different text of the above from having certain qualities

With Vengeance Nemesis Ending:

Aeons passed. The devils freely used the hospitality of Parabola. They defiled the land; they let the Parlous Knot grow old waiting for them.

At last the day came when the devils were prepared to leave, the moment for them to enter their Hell.

All the Fingerkings gathered, the Parlous Knot first of all. The scales of its snake-cohabitants had faded to silver and grey; the eyes of its members were glazed like marbles. But weary and eager for Being, the Parlous Knot climbed into the gullet of a grand devil–

And expired there in agony. The devils cannot be possessed. They cannot house a Fingerking. They must have known this. They must have traded on it. They must never have intended to honour the bargain.

They must be punished.

They must be followed and punished.

In the name of the Parlous Knot. For the sake of every other who ever accepted a contract with a devil.

With Escape Ending of Heart’s Desire:

Aeons passed. The Fingerkings waited. The devils built furnaces in Parabola, and laid down trade routes. The Fingerkings waited. The devils looked into mirrors, and considered new homes, and did not choose any of them. The Fingerkings waited, though patience is not in their nature.

At last the devils saw the Neath. Their destination was chosen! Their escape was selected!

There were so many devils that every Fingerking alive would have an escape. But as a matter of respect, the first possession was offered to the Parlous Knot, for it had formed the treaty, and it had lived into a great old age in the hope of seeing it fulfilled.

But a grand devil swallowed the Parlous Knot into a pit of corrosion and absence: for there is nothing in a devil that can sustain a Fingerking. The Parlous Knot perished, in the sight of all its descendants, down to the smallest egg. And the devils went laughing into the Neath, and not one Fingerking escaped with them.

With Time Ending of Heart’s Desire:

Aeons passed. The Fingerkings waited. The devils built furnaces in Parabola, and laid down trade routes; looked out of mirrors, and considered new homes; and for generations searched for their new Hell.

When they discovered the Neath at last, the Fingerkings proved unable to possess them. To be swallowed by a devil was death and dissolution. A Fingerking lives on desire, and a devil cannot sustain it. It was the death of the Parlous Knot.

This story is told in venom and fury, but you are able to know the tale without being drawn in. You too have bargained everything for time. You have known the devils' side.

With the Impenitent Devil:

"Make no bargains that you cannot enforce," says the Impenitent Devil, when you have framed your question. "We did not betray the Fingerkings. We upheld our side of the bargain. When we left Parabola, we offered every one the chance to dwell inside a devil. Sadly, they did not find their new homes hospitable. We are not easy to possess. Not, at least, for such insubstantial creatures."

The Fingerking lifts its head to hiss at him. He pays it no mind. "How is it our fault if they did not understand what they asked for?"

He does not say the devils were ignorant. He does not say they made the treaty in good faith. He does not say they believed they could rescue the Fingerkings.

So bargains?

"We always keep our bargains," says the Serpent of the Dome: almost affronted, perhaps, by any suggestion they might not keep a bargain with you.

— Purchase a greater freedom of the place via Dome of Scales, Occupied; Fallen London

[...] But this Fingerking is young, small, greedy. It has made its bargain without being ready for the dangers. [...]

— An Illusion, Viewed from the Audience via The Dome of Scales, Occupied; Fallen London

The Fingerking is waiting, wide-jawed, for precisely the correct moment to open Parabola to the audience volunteer. Only the right victim, in the right state of mind, will bargain with a Fingerking, and allow himself to be possessed.

The victim must be at once anxious and bored, eager to be on-stage and sure nothing will happen, jaded with London and wishing against hope for some glimmer of cosmogone.

It is like waiting for the guards to leave their posts; it is like waiting for fruit to ripen on the vine.

But here, the moment's come. The victim's longing is intense, their doubt overpowering. Now, now, precisely now, the Fingerking lets them through the mirror, to the place where all dreams are true…

— An Illusion, Viewed from Behind via The Dome of Scales, Occupied; Fallen London

Devils are known for making contracts and being experts of loopholes and law. They are often lawyers and tricksters. They are known to be selfish and dangerous.

Fingerkings do trick people in order to try to possess them, but it is just as dangerous for them as those they are possessing. They have to be strong enough, through feeding off emotions, in order to do this. It also seems the person needs to be willing, even if they are misled. They must agree to the bargain.

Okay but what about roses and honey?

We know Devils tend to roses, they do so all over. The walls of Hell are the only place Exile’s Roses can grow. Prisoner’s Honey is made by Lamplighter Bees who have pollinated these specific roses. The honey takes people to Parabola, where like dreams and glass, they can be led astray by Fingerkings.

Order Serpentine from Knife-and-Candle says that the Devils did this on behalf of the Fingerkings, as a deal where the Fingerkings will give the Devil’s part of what they gain.

…THE LITTLE SNAKE asked the grumpiest bee in both worlds for help. And the bee said, why should I help? And the snake said, I will give you one-fifth of all I gain thereby. So the bee thought, and he said, in a far place there grows a rose. And that rose…

— Order Serpentine, Sorrowful

...THE ROSE, WHICH IS CALLED EXILE'S ROSE, has a property of passage. So shall I brew a honey from its dusts and pollens, and the honey shall be sweet, and it shall bring those who taste it, here to your dwelling. And sometimes they shall stay forever. And the little snake was very pleased with all the new friends the honey brought, but...

— Order Serpentine, Lachrymose

#fallen london #devils #fingerkings #lore #sunless skies #fallen london spoilers #sunless skies spoilers #parabola

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lokis-astvinur · 3 years

Text

Valentine’s Day.

One Shot: Tom Hiddleston x Reader.

· Word count: 1358.

· Warning: fluff and swearing.

You gulped and growled, you finished your drink in one sip and you felt your throat burn while the liquid went down. "Easy, easy," Benedict, your mentor and a friend said. "Benedict, I am going to punch you," you replied.

A chuckle from the door called your attention, you looked at the man standing there holding two glasses with what you believe was water. "Why is he here anyway?" you asked Benedict. "Darling, I was here before you came in," Tom said offering Benedict a glass. "Thank you," Benedict said, "Tom and I were in the middle of something," he explained. "Brilliant," you hissed, "Let me know when you are done gloating," you grinned squinting your eyes annoyed. "I haven't said a word," Tom rolled his eyes. "I can see that damned smug, Hiddleston," you growled. "Oi, oi," Benedict interrupted, "You, my dear need to take it easy, Tom is not doing or saying anything, plus you need to rest," "Of course!" you fake laughed, "You're kicking me out too!" "I am not kicking you out," Benedict said softly, "I want you to stop drinking and rest," "Why did he dump me a week before Valentine's Day?" you whispered, tears accumulating in your eyes. "Do not do that to yourself," Benedict comforted you, you nodded and you bit your lip, a pout in your mouth while you looked at Benedict. Tom looked at you and made him feel bad, you didn't deserve that, you could be annoying or too friendly to his eyes but you were a nice woman, you were kind, loyal, even fun sometimes. "He doesn't deserve you," Tom murmured. "What?" you asked, you heard his murmur but not what he said. "I said he doesn't deserve you," He replied. You looked at him shocked, he seemed upset and you have never seen him care that much for you. You nodded and gave your glass to Benedict. "I should get going," you babbled, "you probably had plans and I am interrupting," "You can stay in the guest-room tonight," Benedict added, quickly. "No, it is alright," you smiled, "I've got to buy some stuff anyway," "Let me know when you are home," Benedict. They both walked you out, Benedict kissed your cheeks and Tom nodded your way. You waved them goodbye and walked away. You stopped by Sainburys' and got some ice-cream, chocolates and beers.The next day you went out for a stroll around Hampstead Heath, you need fresh air. A few people recognized you and asked for a picture, you smiled and posed for a few, afterwards you just wanted to be by yourself. You sat down on the nearest bench and got lost in your thoughts. You texted your friends to meet up that night before your flight back to Atlanta, filming starting earlier. "Hello, my dear friend," you smirked over the phone as if Benedict could see you. "You idiot," he replied, "How are you doing?" "I am fine," you answered, "getting some vitamin D on my body," "I do not want to know those things," Benedict hissed. "Sun, Benedict, sun," you laughed. "You are the worst, honestly," Benedict murmured, "I was planning a date night for us," "Were you now?" you giggled. "I want my friend to be happy and herself while she is filming," he added. "Okay," you replied, "when?" you added. "Tomorrow night, I will send you the address," Benedict explained, "Please, wear something nice," "Ugh, formal," you faked gagged. "Yes, like a date," he said. "Okay," you sighed, "I will see what can I do." You walked back home, you spent the day watching movies and answering fans over Twitter. Early morning, you made some easy and quick breakfast. You showered and went for a run. After lunch, you went shopping and bought a nice dress to wear for your dinner with Benedict. He texted you the address around noon and by 7 PM you were ready and waiting patiently for your cab. You were planning on drinking as much wine as you could, Benedict will drop you off anyway, you thought. "This must be a mistake," you spat, confused. "Glad to see you, too," Tom said, rolling his eyes. "Where is Benedict?" you questioned, squinting your eyes inspecting the room. "He is not coming," Tom answered. "But," you babbled. "I knew you would decline my offer that's why I asked our dear Benedict to do it for me," Tom explained. "Why would you want to dine with me?" you asked, confused. "Because you deserve more than just takeout," he replied, calmly. "Tom, I am confused," you said, "Honestly, you do not tolerate me," "I do tolerate you," Tom replied. You looked at him unamused, "You do not," "Darling, long before our disagreements started I had the biggest crush on you, I never said a thing because I did not know if you were interested and when I tried, you informed Benedict of your fling with that imbecile that Aaron was," Tom explained. "You shitting me right now," you laughed, you glared at him, your mouth fell open in surprise. "Surprise," Tom added. "Thomas William Hiddleston," you hissed, "Do not play with me right now," "Darling, that was the past, I have moved on," he shrugged. "Oh," you whispered, those words made you sad for some reason. "So, will you accept my truce for a few hours and dine with me?" Tom asked.

“Benedict, I need you to pick me up at the airport," you said over the phone. "Bloody hell, it's 4 in the morning," Benedict growled, clearly asleep. "Please," you pouted, forgetting he couldn't see you. "Be there in 20 minutes," he sighed. "You are the absolute best," you said, kissing his cheek. "Why am I the one picking you up from the airport?" he questioned, driving out into the cold London night. "Because it is a surprise," you smiled. "I'm starting to regret some decisions I've made in the past," he said. "You love us," you giggled. You arrived at Benedict's house and went straight to your assigned rooms. You needed to rest at least five hours before your surprise. Benedict woke you up for lunch, you ate chatting about your filming and flight. He told you all about the things you have missed and what time you would be leaving the house. A few hours later, you got ready and Benedict dropped you off. You tiptoed around the house as quietly as possible. "Hi boy," you whispered to the pup. He licked your face and you giggled. He led the way into his owner room and you held the flowers tightly. He was reading, concentrated on his book a glass of wine accompanied him alongside the fireplace making sparks. "Now, that's how you spend Valentine's Day?" you smirked. He turned so fast he nearly fell over, his book fell on the floor while he struts towards you, he hugged you so tight it provoked a shiver on you. "What are you doing here?" Tom asked. "Surprise," you whispered. He chuckled. "A surprise indeed," he said, dragging you to his chair. "I thought I could drop by and invite you to dine," you said. "Why for?" he asked smirking. "I heard you were going to be alone," you said. "Bobby is here," Tom smiled. "God's sake Hiddleston," you hissed, "Will you be my Valentine?" "Are you playing with me now?" he asked, playfully. "Thomas William Hiddleston," you sighed, "I love you... If, however, your feelings have changed, I will have to tell you: you have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love--I love--I love you. I never wish to be parted from you from this day on," you confessed. "I am honoured," Tom replied. "Are you rejecting me?" you asked, your lip trembled. "I am telling you that I wish to be called yours and not Tom nor darling or dear anymore," Tom whispered, his eyes flying from your eyes to your lips. "Mr Hiddleston," you murmured, getting closer to him. "Mrs Hiddleston," he murmured, his lips brushed yours, you chuckled, "Too soon?" he chuckled. "I like it," you smiled crashing your lips on his.

#Tom Hiddleston x reader #Tom Hiddleston x you #Tom Hiddleston fanfic #Tom Hiddleston fanficition #Tom Hiddleston imagines #Tom Hiddleston drabbles #MCU

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theodora3022 · 4 years

Text

Too Trusting (Yandere Ciel Phantomhive X F!reader)

Summary: You picked up a half-dead young man from a dark alley, tended to his wounds with your nurse skills. However, you did not expect his way of paying his debts.

Notes: So this is a Ciel counterpart of this by @animeyanderelover First time writing for Black butler so hopefully this do not turn out to be too OOC.

Ciel is aged up in this, so no pedophilia haha.

Word count:3.1k(I went overboard oops, a sequal is already taking space up in my mind but whatever), long read with caution

Trigger Warning(s): Gore, drugging, implied dub-con, stalking

Stars glistening behind thin clouds, while the silver moon watches over midnight London carefully.

You yawn and stretch your stiff limbs as you walk out the hospital hall. It has been a long night, though not many patients, the slow hours from afternoon to midnight is nothing less then torture.

You know what you were getting into when you took up studying nursing, but you still cannot chase away this sensation of annoyance. The walk back to your family’s manor is usually peaceful, as it is through a well-to-do neighbourhood of the city. But you still stay on your guard as you lower your hood cape and hurried along. Under ideal circumstances, you would have a carriage for commute, but your noble yet impoverished family could only live a modest life even though your father holds the title of Count. As a result you grown to be independent, cleaned your own room, dressed yourself, enough to become a hard-working nurse instead of a proper noble maiden.

You were unsure of your eyes when you noticed a trail of blood prints leading towards a dark alleyway. Judging by the traces, it means the person, or the thing is still nearby as they are fresh. Should you follow this? What if it is a criminal? But your care for this person’s health got the best of you. With this amount of blood loss, the wounds can be fatal if not given proper medical care. Whoever they are, you cannot just walk away and forget all about them, as it is against your conscience.

A young man dressed in fine suits is not what you expected, although you imagined that suit would look better if not soaked crimson, it seems that he has been shot by guns, the bullet wholes are the proofs. This is no good, you thought as you observe the pool of blood forming underneath him. He needs treatment right away. Although the gunshots are not on his vital parts, such as heart or brain, the blood loss from arteries would drain his life quickly.

“Sir? Can you hear me?” Crouching down, you made a close-up examination of his condition. Unconscious and pale, it seems he had dragged his way into his dark back alley with all those bullet shots. Putting some simple bandages over his wounds, you scoop his slim form up and hurried out of that place.

It feels like a long, feverish dream for Ciel, being carried as he senses the bullets still present in his flesh.

He woke up staring towards your bedroom ceiling. It is morning already, where is Sebastian? Noticing the unfamiliar scenery, Ciel quickly reaches for his right eye, relieved to feel that his eyepatch is still intact.

With a crack of the door, you walked in with a teacup in hand. “I see that you’re awake, I was expecting you to be in coma a bit longer.” Although you are a bit offended by the young man’s cold and evaluating gaze, you still put the cup of warm water on the nightstand.

Instead of taking a sip at the liquid, he asked questions. So demanding, fitting for a young noble.

“Where am I?” “The (family name) manor, do not worry, my parents would not be home until later this week.” Brining a man home while your parents are away, how scandalous, yet you know the laundry maid and the cleaning maid knows to keep their mouths shut. “I advise you to not trying to move too intensively at present, your wounds are still healing.” Pouring yourself a cup, you took a seat on the long sofa next to him. That is where you doze off last night, where the wounded man took your bed. Today is supposed to be your day off, you planned to use it to catch up on sleep, but now it is all ruined thanks to mister mystery on your bed here.

The (family name) family? Ciel vaguely recalls reading about this name before. This house of Counts used to be quite influential in the days of the Queen’s grandfather, George III, and the regency era, but now they are nothing more then minor nobles. Still, he cannot fandom how a lady like you had saved him from that bloody mess.

Looking down to his abdomen, Ciel can see he had received medical attention from you. Now that he has been saved from the reaper’s collection, Ciel knows the best thing to do is calling for his loyal butler. However, he must find a way to repay his debts you. You did save his life, after all.

“How long was I unconscious?” “Only for a couple of hours. May I have your name, Sir?”

He knew he should hide his identity, even from you. The less people knowing that the Queen’s guard dog was almost successfully assassinated last night, the better. But as if his lips have a mind of its own, Ciel let it slip out. “Ciel.” Good thing he managed to hold the word after.

Ciel, the French word for sky. Suitable for his eye color. “Well, pleasure to meet you Sir Ciel, I am (y/n). You might have guessed I am a noble but spare me the court protocols. Right now I am nothing but a humble nurse.” Now you have a chance to look at Ciel properly, he is actually quite handsome with those delicate features. Silky blue-black hair paired with peacock blue eyes, although one of them is covered by an eyepatch. You were tempted to pry when he was still out but choose not to as it could bring horrific consequences. Noblity can be so cruel, you do not want to get dragged into their mess further.

“I thank you, for coming to my aid.” Ciel lowering his upper body forward, attempt to bow as best as he could in his current state.

“It was nothing, really. Please be careful, Sir Ciel. Your wounds are sealed, but vigorous movement can still open them up.” Your knotted brow amuses him, how can you act so nonchalantly when receiving gratitude form Lord Phantomhive himself? You are a peculiar one indeed. Brining a stranger home and patching him up, while you know nothing of his identity or intentions. How very naïve of you. Guess there no harm in trusting you for a bit. If you want him dead you could have just left him in that damp alleyway.

Taking a sip of the teacup you prepared for him, the Earl frowned at the plain taste. But he drank all of it, nonetheless. Being subjected to tea for so long, he finds water dull and it leaves a foul taste in his mouth. It would have to suffice for now. “My butler would be here soon; would you mind opening the windows?”

Baffled by this odd request, you still drew away the curtains and let the morning sunshine in the room. Seeing you bathed in sunlight had made Ciel feel a certain something. He is startled by this strange sensation, how it made him blush and lose composure. The Earl had never been very sociable person since childhood, so the only female he frequently spend time with is his fiancée Elizabeth. One could say the fairer sex is foreign territory to this man. Ciel is used to being around Elizabeth, out of duty as she is his future bride. But he never felt this warm feeling when he is with her. You might not be a beauty by popular standards, but there is just something about you that made him want to... maybe it is your caring gaze, or your easygoing attitude, Ciel is not sure which one to pick.

“Excuse me, young lady, do you mind telling me how serious my lord’s injuries are?” You jumped back, frightened by the sudden appearance of the tall man on your window ledge. This is two stories high; how did he get up here? No wonder why Ciel wants you to open the windows.

“Sebastian, you frightened her.” The young man scolded the butler, who merely bowed and apologized for the intrusion. You begin describing his bullet wounds in great detail, even showing him the aftermaths: the bullets you took out before on a plate. But you soon found yourself staring up into the butler’s gorgeous eyes, and you started stuttering. Those eyes are like swirling tornadoes, drawing you close every minute. Although Sir Ciel is already an attractive lad, his butler seems to be on whole new level.

Usually when women were swooning over Sabastian, Ciel would find it irritating but simply ignore the interaction, as it could be used to their advantage. But seeing your starring eyes fixated on the tall man in black, a bunch of...jealousy hit in in the head. You saved him; he is supposed to be the one you are looking after! Why are you so focused on that demon? Taking notes of his young master’s angry signs: how Ciel bit his underlip, Sabastian knows he had gone too far with you.

“Sabastian, carry me back home, that is an order.” He spitted out the sentance rather harshly.

You snapped out of your funny state, approving his actions: “If you must move, it is the best if someone carry you. Sir Sabastian, do you need me to call you a carriage?”

“No need, Miss. My lord and I would be on our way now, thank you for your assistance.” Within two seconds, they both disappeared from the room, as if they were never there. You shook your head, cleaning up the teacup and the messy quilts, wondering how you are supposed to return that blood-stained suit jacket that still lies in the laundry bin downstairs.

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The Earl Phantomhive is now back to his study, reading a report about you.

“May I ask you why this young lady had peaked your interests?” That smirk on Sabastian’s lips successfully irritated Ciel’s short temper. Scowling at him, he tried to explain how he only wants to properly thank you on saving his life. “I never like owning debts, but I do repay them. What is that smirk for, Sabastian? Are you teasing me?”

“Why, how could I milord. I do not have the courage to mock my master.” After giving him a warning look, Ciel returns to his paperwork, setting your files aside. But unfortunately his mind starts to wonder.

What would it be like, to have your hands messaging his shoulder when they are sore from work? Those hands that pulled him from death not so long ago. No, no. He has to stop. Ciel Phantomhive already has a fiancée, and even though he had no romantic feelings for Elizabeth, it is not proper to just daydream about another lady in such salacious manners.

Even so, Ciel needs to make you do not face any dreadful consequences because of him. Many people want him dead; he simply cannot allow you to be affected by his foolishness. A precious person like deserves to be protected and cherished.

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Labelling your strange encounter with Sir Ciel as a notable but past event, you carried on your daily duties per usual. Your parents did not suspect a thing as you took care of all traces of Ciel, you still work those awful full night shifts. That suit jacket is cleansed, folded neatly in your bottom drawer, as a reminder of Ciel and his handsome butler is not a fever dream.

While browsing the London news during afternoon tea, you glance at the gossip column and find how Lord Phantomhive had broke off his engagement with little lady Midford. You pay it no particular mind, as you were barely involved in high society due to your family’s declining status. Gossips such as these does not bother you a bit. You placed the newspaper back to its proper shelve, finishing the biscuits as you thought about how you should get out of this state of unease.

Maybe you are just losing your sanity from night shifts, but ever since that day Ciel appear in your life, you have this constant feel of being watched everywhere. In your bedroom, in the hospital halls or in the streets, no matter where. No matter how hard you searched, there is nobody. Even though you sense no malicious intent, it still worries you and kept you up at nights. Your parents are worried about your ever-growing dark circles, but you just brush it off as side effects of your job.

“Really, dear, you shouldn’t overwork yourself.” The Countess, also your mother said at the dinner table one night. “The household can still run without your overtime pay; you know.”

You nod silently, pretending to be having trouble dissecting the salmon filet. Working is a way to help your parents pay for the ever-expensive bills of this manor, as well as your insurance of not being sold on the marriage market by your devious uncle, who brought suitors to every family party. How he said: “Your family might not be what it used to be, but a son of a wealthy merchant can change that!” disgusts you so. Those men disgust you also. All they want is that Count title, as you are the only child, your family title would go to you.

“You got mail, milady.” Your washer maid presents the latest postage to you. Ah, is it the pay checks?

When you held the white envelope in your hands, you could not believe your eyes; The scarlet wax seal is engraved with the crest of a dog, representing the Phantomhive family. What could the Earl possibly want with you? Although you are a nobleman’s daughter, you never acted like one and you lived a middle-class life. The only distinction being the family tree and your blood. Knowing your worth, you did not assume naively how the earl must have want your hand in marriage, even if he recently broke off his engagement. Your status of a backwater noble is too insignificant for him to notice, so why did you receive this letter?

It indicates the Lord wants you to join him for dinner tomorrow night, which made your stomach churns. Your table manners are not the best, as your parents do not care for such things. Along with the letter there is a package containing a fine black dress, its velvet material surely feels expensive. What did you do to attract such attention from the Queen’s guard dog? You simply cannot fathom why, never at once Ciel came to your mind. You initially wanted to turn down the invitation, but your father said it would reflect poorly on the family. You accepted it, not wanting to put your parents in trouble. This must be a mistake, you thought. I am not qualified to be some lady, all I wanted is to help people in the infirmary.

The dress fits you perfectly, as if it is tailored by the finest in London. A shiver climbs down your spine as you thought about how he obtained your measurements. All you have to do is smile, eat whatever, and he will get bored of you in no time, right?

No.

When you were greeted by that devilishly handsome butler again, you were so relieved. This is just Ciel inviting you to dinner, to show his gratitude! There is nothing to be concerned about.

Ciel not like himself from few weeks ago at all. You can tell that he is trying whatever strategy to make you feel comfortable, even telling you to forget about stiffy table manners if you like. Hm, how unusual, as you heard before the Earl is found of strict etiquette and protocols. But having seen him in a fragile state before, you never once suspected his true intention.

Ciel is mad. Not at just anyone, but at his loyal servant, Sebastian.

How dare he drawn your attention away, how dare he makes you giggle like a fool, how dare he make you smile like that. Doesn’t the demon know you will soon belong to his master from all those investigations? It is bad behaviour for a servant.

“Were you listening, (y/n)?” Ciel suddenly stops in the middle of a description on his company’s latest candies.

“I-I’m sorry Lord Phantomhive, it is just...” You lower your head to apologize, but he seems less then pleased.

“Sabastian, leave the room now.” “As you wish, young master.”

After the butler backout of the dining room, leaving the two of you alone, Ciel’s expression completely changed. But you are a bit preoccupied by your dizziness. Why did your head feel so heavy all of a sudden? Have you caught a chill? Standing up from the chair, you courtesies to your host: “Thank you, Lord Phantomhive for this delicious dinner. I am feeling rather unwell, so I am afraid I must take my leave.” You almost lost your balance because of your vertigo, only caught the chair for support at the last moment.

Thin, but strong long fingers grabbed your wrist, forcing you to sit down beside him. “Oh no, my dear. I think you are exactly where you need to be.”

His...dear? What can he possibly mean by that? There are certainly many other suitable noble ladies available to him, why?

However, your mind starting to become cloudy, as you can no longer form coherent thoughts. Seeing you in such hazy state, a sinister smile forms on his lips, as he pulls your body into his embrace, slowly stroking your hair as you black out. Feeling you had been forced into a dreamless sleep, Ciel knows he had succeeded, as always. To be honest with himself, Ciel did abuse your trust, by seasoning your steak a little differently, but it is your fault for being so trusting of someone you only met once. Ciel had won this game, now he would gladly take the prize to the new bedroom he so thoughtfully prepared for you. You are going to love it, including his series of plans. The title of Lady Phantomhive suits a sweet person like you impeccably.

He had thought about this long and hard, and he came to a conclusion of the best way to repay you is to offer you a position you cannot possibly refuse. The position of Lady Phantomhive. He even upsetted Elizabeth for this! It should qualify as a decent compensation. Should you ever think it is not suitable, your parents would be a good place to start negotiating. You wouldn’t want anythnig happening to them, don’t you?

Now that Ciel understand how it is like to “love” someone romantically, he swears he is going to try his best to make you comfortable with him in this new home. Your presence would lighten the grim mood of this manor greatly. Easily swooping your unconscious body up bridal style, Ciel begin to walk up the grand staircase, towards the bedrooms. Maybe the manor could return to its former glory in the near future, with a happily married couple and their adorable little brats. He could have a family again! Doesn’t that sound just lovely?

#yandere #yandere black butler #yandere ciel phantomhive #yandere ciel #ciel phantomhive #black butler imagines #black butler #collab

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queenmarytudor · 3 years

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The Spanish Princess S2 rewrite

The wonky timeline and horrible inaccuracies of The Spanish Princess season 2 inspired me to plot out the season myself.

I made some minor timeline changes to make things flow easier, speeding up the time between events while ignoring Catherine’s first daughter born in 1510 and Mary’s 1518 French betrothal - but I can guarantee my version is 100% more accurate than Emma Frost’s ;)

I used the same following events in the series as rough reference points:

Birth and death of Prince Hal - episode 1

Battle of Flodden - episode 2

Princess Mary’s birth - episode 4

Field of the Cloth of Gold - episode 6

but I’ve dramatically altered the context, featuring a lot more festivities, the births of Margaret Douglas and Frances Brandon, and Henry VIII’s affair with Mary Boleyn!

EPISODE 1 - SIR LOYAL HEART (1511)

King Henry VIII and his new bride, Queen Catherine of Aragon, are crowned king and queen of England, to great rejoicing.

The new court is full of revels; Henry dresses up as Robin Hood to surprise his young queen, along with his band of merry men. An amused Catherine is declared his Maid Marian. The happy king and queen dance together, while Mary, Henry VIII’s sister dances with the king’s best friend Charles Brandon. After the revelry, Catherine confesses to her husband she is with child.

Henry writes to his father in law Ferdinand that he considers him his new father, and prefers an alliance with him rather than any other prince.

Catherine is sent a blessed girdle by her sister, Margaret queen of Scots, to guarantee a safe birth. She had been given it by Catherine previously to use in the birth of her son, prince James of Scotland, and hopes it gives her similar luck. Catherine is touched by the kind gesture.

On New Years day, Catherine gives birth to a prince, named Henry for his father.

Henry goes to a shrine, Our Lady at Walsingham, to give thanks while Catherine recovers. The king of France, Louis XII, is made godfather of little Prince Hal.

When Catherine is churched and returns to court there are jousts to celebrate England’s new heir. Henry jousts as “Sir Loyal Heart”. His sister Mary gives Charles Brandon her favour before the pair joust. Henry is victorious, but Charles admits privately to Mary after that he let the new father win. Catherine happily awards her husband the main prize.

A grand feast follows, where a jubilant Henry encourages the people to take the gold from his costume. A stampede follows, and the laughing king and queen must be helped to safety.

Their happiness is interrupted by the sad news that prince Hal is dead.

The court is plunged into grief, and Henry, in an effort to distract himself, declares war on France, wanting to win back the land lost to England. He asks a mourning Catherine’s help in convincing her father to fight with him. She agrees eagerly; God has taken her son, but he will surely bless them with another when they defeat their ancient enemy.

EPISODE 2 - FLODDEN (1513)

There has been several months of planning war against France, and Catherine is in the early stages of pregnancy. She talks to the Venetian ambassador about hiring Italian ships for an invasion, asking about the cost. Henry admires her attitude, and declares her regent of England while he is in France.

On the eve of her husband’s departure, Catherine tells him their child has quickened, leaving Henry even more eager to win for the sake of their son’s future inheritance.

Before they cross the channel to fight, Mary promises Charles Brandon to look after her brother. He reassures her they will both be fine; Mary says he’ll look after the king, and she the queen.

In France, Henry, Charles, and the other men wait on Catherine’s father, Ferdinand of Aragon. He never arrives, and Henry is incensed to discover he has been betrayed. He successfully lays siege to Therouanne, taking the town and demolishing the walls, creating large fires. They carry on, leaving destruction behind them.

Meanwhile in England, a now visibly pregnant Catherine heads the Privy Council meetings and realises they will have to fight the Scots, allied with the angry French. She writes constantly to the king’s almoner, Thomas Wolsey, worrying how her husband fares.

Catherine, helped by Mary, busies herself preparing essential items for battle, including sewing banners of the royal arms of England and Spain.

Margaret writes a letter pleading her sister not to attack, but Catherine burns it and rallies her soldiers with a rousing speech, saying “English courage excels that of all other nations!”. The soldiers proudly take her banners to battle at Flodden field, where they slaughter the Scots.

Catherine and Mary wait anxiously before England is declared victorious and Catherine is brought James IV of Scotland’s body. She wants to send his head to her husband, but her men persuade her not to. She sends her friar, Friar Langley, to Scotland to comfort the now widowed Margaret.

Across the sea Charles Brandon distinguishes himself by capturing a gatehouse at Tournai. Henry is sent James IV’s bloodstained clothes and a letter from Catherine informing him of her success. Inspired, Henry leads the successful assault on Tournai.

In England, celebrations continue for their victory, but are dimmed when Catherine goes into labour early and gives birth to a stillborn son. Mary comforts her, promising Henry will be home soon.

Henry returns from France victorious, creating Charles Brandon the Duke of Suffolk for his actions. He assures Catherine all will be well now the enemy is defeated, as his sister Mary is to be betrothed to Louis XII of France to make peace between the two countries.

EPISODE 3 - GRIEF (1514)

In Scotland, a grieving Margaret is comforted by Archibald Douglas after being declared regent on behalf of her son, the now king James. He can relate to losing a spouse, as his wife died not long ago.

In England, Catherine is pregnant again, and sews Henry’s battle torn shirts as Mary gets fitted for her wedding dress. Henry’s sister is horrified at having to marry the French king.

Wolsey is now the archbishop of York, and Catherine is beginning to resent his growing influence and power at court. Henry has come up with an idea to claim Castile on behalf of Catherine. He and Catherine argue viciously over it. She thinks it is ridiculous; even if she agreed to fight with her father over the land, Castile is her sister Joana’s before hers, as their mother’s heir. Henry says Joana is mad and incapable of ruling, and therefore it passes to her, and by extension, him.

Catherine is miserable, not helped by her bad pregnancy. She is constantly sick, but disguises her pain to say goodbye to Mary. At the waterside before her departure, Mary gets her brother to promise she can choose her second husband. Henry agrees, and Mary sets sail for France with several ladies in waiting, including Mary and Anne Boleyn.

In Scotland, a lonely Margaret finds herself falling in love with Archibald Douglas.

Catherine is torn between her husband and her father, even more so when Henry decide to send Charles Brandon over to France to discuss a new alliance with King Louis against him.

In France, Charles talks to Louis about an alliance against Ferdinand but the French king is reluctant.

Catherine goes into early labour and gives birth to a son they name Henry for his father. He dies minutes after birth in his parents arms, and both are devastated.

Charles Brandon informs Mary of the queen’s loss; both comfort each other before Charles reluctantly sails back to England.

In Scotland, Margaret secretly marries Archibald Douglas, breaking the terms of her regency.

Back in England, Charles tells Henry he tried his best but Louis refused. Henry reveals he has dropped his plans to get revenge on Ferdinand for the sake of the queen.

Henry tells Catherine he has realised there are more important things to focus on - like her, recovering. They cuddle in bed, brought back together in shared grief for their son.

EPISODE 4 - THE THREE QUEENS (1515 - 1516)

In Scotland, Margaret’s secret marriage is discovered when she becomes pregnant. Besieged and desperate for help, she sends a letter to her brother in England.

In France, Mary becomes a widow after King Louis dies. Henry sends Charles Brandon to bring her home, not before making him promise not to marry her. As she had with Margaret, Catherine sends her friar, Friar Langley, to comfort another Tudor widow; she has no need for him now as her prayers have been answered - she is with child again.

In France, Friar Langley tells Mary that the privy council, especially Wolsey, will never let her and Charles be wed. The pair marry anyway, helped by the new French king, Francis. Francis also gives his blessing for the Duke of Albany to take up the regency of King James in Scotland.

Henry is furious with both of his sisters, as Mary has married without his permission and Margaret urges him to send an army to help her. Henry refuses to send an army, but says Margaret can stay at his court.

Archibald urges Margaret to obey the council and surrender her son to a newly returned Albany, but she refuses. After a long argument, a defeated Margaret turns over James to Albany and flees with Archibald to her brothers court for the sake of her unborn child.

Mary reminds Henry “as you well know, I have always borne good mind towards my lord of Suffolk.” She beseeches him to “keep all the promises that you promised me when I took my leave of you by the waterside.”

Wolsey convinces Henry to allow Mary and Charles to return home to England if they pay a fine. To sweeten her brother’s disposition, Mary steals a large French jewel, the Mirror of Naples, for him.

On the Scottish borders, Archibald refuses to cross into England with Margaret and reveals he intends to make peace with Albany. A betrayed Margaret carries on to London without her husband.

Mary and Charles return home to England, but her lady Anne Boleyn decides to stay on with the new French queen.

All 3 Tudor queens, Catherine, Mary, and Margaret, are now back together in the English royal court, and pregnant.

Margaret has still not forgiven Catherine for the role she played in her first husband’s death. She asks for her blessed girdle back, and Catherine agrees.

Shortly after, Margaret gives birth to a daughter, also named Margaret. Catherine visits her and apologizes for the hurt she has caused. She gives her new dresses and jewels that befit the queen regent of Scotland, and Margaret thaws.

Catherine tries to reconcile the three Tudor siblings, saying their children will all be cousins and it would be a shame to make them enemies as they will be the future royal family.

Henry forgives his sisters; he delights in wearing the Mirror of Naples Mary has stolen from King Francis, and tells Margaret Archibald’s actions were “Done like a Scot”.

Grand jousts are put on to celebrate Mary and Margaret’s return to court. Catherine and Mary watch on proudly as their husbands compete against each other, while Margaret is cheered by a letter arriving from her husband, saying he is trying to negotiate with Albany.

Catherine successfully gives birth to a little girl, named Mary in honour of her aunt. Wolsey, now a Cardinal, is made her godfather, while Margaret Pole is made her godmother and governess. A delighted Henry assures the Venetian ambassador “We are both young; if it was a daughter this time, by the grace of God the sons will follow.”

EPISODE 5 - MAY DAY (1517 - 1518)

Henry and Catherine are head over heels with their surviving child, now a thriving toddler. Mary is constantly flaunted by her parents to ambassadors and courtiers who dote on her; the king names her his pearl of the world, and brags she never cries. The royals are informed of attacks on foreigners in London, but caught up in their happiness, they brush off the news.

The three queens meet at Margaret’s London townhouse, with their children, Princess Mary, Margaret Douglas and Henry Brandon. Mary is pregnant again, while Margaret is eager to return to Scotland as the people around her household are becoming increasingly hostile towards her.

On May Day there are large scale riots in the city, and royal officers including Charles Brandon are sent to suppress them. Three hundred rebels are rounded up and sent to the king and queen. An emotional Catherine, Margaret and Mary beg for Henry to have mercy on them for the sakes of their wives and children, which is given.

Margaret leaves with her daughter to reunite with her husband in Scotland. Mary and an increasingly devout Catherine accompany her northwards while on pilgrimage to visit the Our Lady shrine at Walsingham, the same place her husband visited in thanks after she gave birth to their short lived son. Catherine suspects she is pregnant again.

While his wife is away, Henry entertains his daughter, and writes a Defence of the Seven Sacraments with Thomas More. Increasingly bored as the months pass, he begins an affair with one of Catherine’s ladies, Bessie Blount.

On her return to court, Catherine tells Henry his sister has given birth to a healthy girl named Frances in honour of the French king, and surprises Henry with her own big belly, obviously with child. He orders Te Deum to be sung in the churches in celebration.

In her absence, Henry has grown a beard as part of a peace pact with Francis, but Catherine dislikes it and asks him to shave. He agrees happily after her surprise.

Unfortunately, their joy is as short lived as their child; Catherine soon gives birth to a daughter who dies not long after.

EPISODE 6 - CLOTH OF GOLD (1519 - 1520)

Catherine and Henry take comfort in Mary and the new title, “Defender of the Faith”, that Henry has been given by the Pope. Catherine is teaching her daughter Latin, and all is well until it is discovered that Bessie Blount is pregnant. She is sent away from court to a nearby priory to avoid the scandal being discovered.

Back in Scotland, Margaret discovers her husband Archibald has been living openly in her house with a mistress.

Cardinal Wolsey devises a royal summit with the French king, the Field of the Cloth of Gold, to cement their peace treaty. Henry is eager to see his rival, King Francis, in the flesh.

Bessie has given birth to a bastard son, Henry, who Henry immediately recognises as his own and gives the surname Fitzroy. He makes Wolsey his son’s godfather, and sends him to a secret christening. Henry promises Catherine Fitzroy will be kept away from court, but he will do his fatherly duty. He sends some of Princess Mary’s ladies to care for him.

Margaret writes to her brother she wants a divorce. Catherine sympathises with her sister as she is in a similar position, but urges Margaret to commit more fully to her husband, as she is. Henry and Catherine are determined to put the Fitzroy argument behind them and spend time with Princess Mary as a loving royal family.

Margaret discovers the Duke of Albany has been invited to the Field of the Cloth of Gold, and urges him to convince her brother to help her.

Henry, Catherine, Henry’s sister Mary and Charles Brandon attend the Field of the Cloth of Gold in France. In their absence, England is ruled by Princess Mary, Margaret Pole and the Privy Council.

At the Field of the Cloth of Gold, the Duke of Albany talks to Henry; again Henry and Catherine refuse to support his sister in a divorce. Margaret needs to work out her differences with her husband, for the sake of their daughter.

Catherine and Queen Claude of France become friends, bonding over their husband’s rivalry and their ladies in waiting becoming mistresses. Catherine is grateful Henry is discreet with his lovers, unlike Francis with Francoise de Foix, and that in England there is no official recognised royal mistress position.

King Francis proposes a match between his son and Princess Mary; Henry agrees to allow some French ambassadors to visit England.

In England, the French ambassadors meet with Mary. Mary, watched over by Margaret Pole, entertains them by playing the virginals and offering them strawberries, her favourite.

In France, the kings hear the ambassadors are enchanted with the princess. Catherine is secretly displeased, as she favours her nephew, the Holy Roman Emperor Charles V, as Mary’s future husband. She says her daughter is far too young to marry, and the four royals agree they will wait until Mary is older for the pair to wed.

At the festivities, Catherine’s lady Mary Boleyn reunites with her sister Anne, who returns with them back to England as one of Catherine’s ladies.

EPISODE 7 - THE KING’S PEARL (1522 - 1523)

Catherine concentrates more on her daughter’s future. Hearing of his talents, she meets the great scholar Juan Luis Vives and commissions him to write a book on female education for Princess Mary.

A desperate Margaret writes that her marriage to Archibald is invalid as James IV is still alive. Catherine is incredulous; she had seen the Scottish king’s dead body herself. Catherine and Henry again refuse to support her.

After an annoyed Henry tells Edward Stafford off for failing to keep the Welsh in line, Catherine persuades Henry that an Imperial marriage would be better for England and their daughter.

Charles V visits England, where a grand pageant is performed in his honour. Henry’s sister Mary plays Beauty, while Mary Boleyn is Kindness and Anne Boleyn Perseverance. Afterwards, Anne flirts with a courtier, Henry Percy; she says she likes his beard.

In the midst of the festivities Edward Stafford, still annoyed over being rebuked by the king, makes a snide remark overheard by Wolsey.

Princess Mary, wearing a Valentines brooch for her cousin, meets Charles V. Catherine says he cannot leave without seeing Mary dance. Mary does not need to be asked twice; Catherine watches her daughter proudly as she impresses the emperor.

In Scotland, Margaret commands Albany to appeal directly to the Pope for a divorce, as Archibald has turned her mad. He agrees to help her. Margaret and Albany finally come to an agreement over the regency of James, which is confirmed by the Scottish parliament. Margaret is not regent, but is able to help her son govern.

Princess Mary is formally betrothed to Charles V, but after he leaves England Charles breaks the treaty and marries Isabella of Portugal. This infuriates Henry, who takes his anger out on Catherine. They have a blazing argument, where he blames her not only for her nephew jilting their daughter, but for not bearing a male heir. Edward Stafford has been listening to prophecies that predict his death and intends to kill him himself after their argument; England is not safe if he were to die without a successor. Catherine argues they have an heir; her mother ruled as a queen in her own right, and she herself ruled the country for him when he was in France.

Juan Luis Vives presents his finished book to Catherine. She tells him “If I had to choose between extreme sorrow and extreme well-being, I think I would prefer the former to the latter, for people in disgrace need only some consolation, while those who are too successful frequently lose their minds.”

She is comforted by Vives’ assurance that she is a good queen and mother, and a model for all woman. Henry meanwhile, is comforted by Mary Boleyn while Edward Stafford is executed for treason.

EPISODE 8 - DECLARE, I DARE NOT (1525 - 1527)

Archibald approaches the Scottish parliament heavily armed, but Margaret orders cannons to be fired at him. Henry Stewart, the master of artillery, is eager to obey, but the English ambassadors are appalled at their actions. They tell her not to attack her husband, but Margaret replies they should “go home and not meddle in Scottish matters”.

In a ceremony, Catherine watches on as her husband announces Princess Mary will go to the Welsh Marches with Margaret Pole and her own council to learn how to govern. It appears Henry has changed his mind and is prepared to accept his daughter as the first ruling queen of England; Catherine is delighted, especially when Mary is given the executed Stafford’s lands and the lordships of Bromfield, Chirkland and Yale to support her new role.

In the same ceremony, a proud Mary and Charles Brandon look on with their daughter Frances as their son Henry is made earl of Lincoln. Shortly after Henry Fitzroy is made Duke of Richmond and Somerset. Catherine is furious, especially when Henry declares his bastard and household will go to the northern borders to defend England against the Scots.

Mary Boleyn gives birth to a girl, Catherine Carey, named in honour of the queen. Catherine says the child looks just like her father.

Henry and Wolsey press ahead with arranging a marriage treaty with France as discussed at the Field of the Cloth of Gold; Catherine, desperately wanting to make amends with her husband, reluctantly agrees.

Wolsey tells Henry Percy and Anne Boleyn off for getting betrothed without approval from the king. She is only a knight’s daughter, and beneath Percy’s rank; he is sent from court to marry Mary Talbot.

An ambassador for the French marriage, Bishop Tarbes, arrives to see Princess Mary. Tarbes questions Henry and Catherine about their daughters legitimacy. Catherine brushes off Tarbes’ concerns, as the Pope had given her and Henry a dispensation to marry even if her marriage to Arthur had been consummated.

Henry visits Mary Boleyn and congratulates her, wondering if her daughter is his. While looking after her sister, Anne talks with Henry; sparks fly.

Margaret is relieved to hear the Pope has finally sanctioned a divorce from Archibald. Though she acknowledges she will have to let Archibald attend Parliament, she is free to marry again should she choose. She drinks to her success with Henry Stewart, acknowledging he is quite handsome…

Henry has grown his beard out again, but this time refuses to shave when Catherine reminds him she hates beards. He insinuates to Anne Boleyn she could be his mistress, but she refuses after seeing how he’s treated her sister.

Princess Mary is formally betrothed to the French king’s son and there is a joust to celebrate. Henry competes with the motto “Declare, I Dare Not”, in stark contrast to Sir Loyal Heart in episode 1, and Catherine is confused.

With the celebrations over, an emotional Henry and Catherine must say goodbye to their daughter. Together they watch on as Mary, helped by Margaret Pole, prepares to leave court for her own estates in the Welsh Marches. As he holds his wife, Henry’s gaze cannot help but drift to a smiling Anne Boleyn nearby…

Embracing her daughter, Catherine gives Vives’ book to Mary as a farewell present. She promises her she will one day be queen of France - and England.

In a flash forward years later, Henry and Catherine’s daughter Mary is crowned the first queen regnant of England, to great rejoicing.

The last episode basically comes full circle to the first, with several parallels:

France are enemies/friends

Henry jousts for Catherine/Anne

Catherine loses Prince Hal/Princess Mary

Henry and Catherine are crowned/Mary is crowned

and we all know how the future will be, with a queen replaced because she can’t produce a male heir…

#let me know what you think!#the spanish princess #i know i focused more on the tudor's and not lina/oviedo #but just imagine them living their best life watching all the craziness unfold #i was going to have her be the lady henry dismisses in anger after catherine hating fitzroy becoming a duke but thought that was too mean!#they deserve their happy ending and catherine deserves a friend :)

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