#sweetbitterbitten

[threecardtrick]

he cups the bitch's jaw in his hand — mad dog, never chained. no gods, no masters.

[theredconqueror]

"and what do y o u pray for?"

[alwaysaqueene]

@sweetbitterbitten // unplotted starter for Lady Anne Boleyn & Prince Alastair

May 1526 — Competing against Henry’s Affections

Prince Alastair looked down at the woman he’d been dancing with, finding her extraordinarily beautiful and interesting. They’d found each other sharing knowing the French language, along with English, but picking the first language as for privacy. “Ignore that old man, please Lady Anne,” he pleaded, despite barely knowing the auburn haired woman.

“It’d be safer if you came to the court of Lunaruz with me when I’m done on my diplomatic mission here,” he explained to her in a whispered tone as he searched her eyes. “He is married and cannot promise you anything because of that. I am the prince of a massive kingdom, my eldest sister’s heir, and can offer you fidelity and loyalty,” he swore.

To say Prince Alastair was a romantic would be a vast understatement. The two were close in age, he’d discovered, both being in their early-to-mid twenties at this point. He was a dashing young man, resembling a young Henry if anyone were to be honest, but was certainly not related to the King of England and Ireland, fortunately.

[deficd]

| @sweetbitterbitten / Thomasin from here!

He isn't worried.

He can't be-- not like this, not here. The mask only conceals most of his visage, leaving one amber-spent eye as an offering into his skull. It reflects nothing. No dead stars, no consumption of light.

He does believe her, in a sense.

Fear had been beaten out of him in the womb. That leaves a sort-of scar that other scars know, that they can understand. Whatever had slithered inside of her and strangled her fear left its whisperings and its ashes. Arcann tastes it in the atoms brutalized in the wake of her witch weavings.

"Still." Voice low; he's still contemplating her. "I can't imagine you as anything aside from what you are."

What he sees her as.

[therelentless]

{ @sweetbitterbitten ;; cont.

"You… You think so?" Gentle was not exactly the word that people used to describe him, in fact, that word wouldn't even make it to the list if people were to list his qualities, and yet, maybe it was this that made hearing it all the more special.

A smile that he tried to contain appeared on his lips as he repeated this word in his head. He took a seat next to her. "I suppose I can be gentle when people give me the chance, and when they decide to not act like big idiots, but some people really like to test my patience."

[sxcondqueen]

@sweetbitterbitten liked for a starter — Jane Seymour

Anne turned at the the sound of laughter and saw one Lady Jane Seymour. Henry's newest paramour. It filled her with jealousy. Henry's eyes wandered, that much was true. After all he had been unfaithful to the Dowager Princess when they had in their pretended marriage for 24 years. And he had gone to other women when she had been pregnant with Elizabeth and while she recovered. As well as her other pregnancies. But something about Jane just made her so angry.

She was Henry's true wife. Her, Anne! She had fought beside him to get rid of Katharine and to make it so that Henry to do what he pleased within his own realm when it came to the Church. No other person held as much power to aid her husband as she did! And yet here was Jane. Some little thing, not very pretty. Just blonde.

"Lady Seymour," she said coolly, "what brings you in so late? I called for your presence two hours before supper."

[neroengland]

@sweetbitterbitten sent : crimson, a starter in which one or both muses are angry. – for anne boleyn.

‘Anne, you test my patience with your demands’.  Standing in the Queen’s presence chamber, with his hardened-gaze riveted to the window and the pleasing stretch of swollen gardens beyond, Henry avoids Anne’s gaze. Were she to peer into the depths of his narrowed eyes, she would see the fury that stoked within – the impatience, the terse uncertainty that God had delivered him out of one unlawful marriage into another. As one bejeweled hand strokes the beard at his chin, another holds fast to the sword at his waist. ‘I cannot command the people to adore you anymore than I can command your belly to conceive an heir’.  Grumbling beneath his breath, the King uttered: ‘were it God’s will, England would have a son and Elizabeth would have France. But I see now God will not grant me that no matter what I do’. 

[rubykissed]

" ⭐ " @sweetbitterbitten

Okay! Let's start with literature muses.

Your Wendy at my Peter Pan

Your Wendy at my Captain Hook

My Wendy at your Mary Lennox (this could be fun!)

My Wendy at your Lucy Pevensie (they'd desperately be friends, c'mon!)

Also, this is a very pro OC blog (I write several, just not on this blog). So, if you ever want to do something, just let me know!

[paramounticebound]

@sweetbitterbitten sent in ✐, and received #361 for Petronella.

"If you knew what was going to happen, if you knew everything that was going to happen next— if you knew in advance the consequences of your own actions— you would be doomed. You would be ruined as a god."

[nyratcrg]

@sweetbitterbitten​

Nyra looked out the window and into the garden below. She could see Tom pruning the hedges and the gardener cutting the grass. She closed her eyes and felt the slight breeze in the air that came from the ocean.

She turned around and glanced at Miranda. “Do you ever wonder what your life would have been like if your parents hadn’t sent you here?” she asked.    

[threecardtrick]

he is on the sidelines; the wall's faithful companion. another is beside him; the plucked golden flower, as they watch the table set for the future performance. cards falling like a waterfall through hands. "if she means to tell the king's fortune, she better make sure it is a favourable one."

[zeitlosleben]

❛ we’ve been through a lot. i think we should just lay low and take it easy. ❜ to ghost verse el from the concept of lucy from i'm thinking of ending things (yes i'm throwing you a new character cause i wanna try her out, feel free to ignore)

𝟐𝟎𝟎 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 II @sweetbitterbitten II

"And for what purpose?" There was a laugh there. Was she making fun of her? it surely seemed that way. It was always interesting how people always thought that if they waited, if they took things slow, the inevitable perhaps was never going to happen, as if they could change their destiny by simply 'waiting a bit longer'. "Whatever happens is going to happen, and it's better for it to happen now than prolonging it, wouldn't you agree?"

[withinycu]

❔

send ❔ and i’ll list muses to throw at yours | accepting

Geoffrey

Philip II

All the fairy tale kids

Helen Vaughan

Peter Pan

Dr. Jekyll

Victor Frankenstein

Death

Gwynplaine

Nayotake no Kaguya-hime

Godric

Caligula

Caesarion

@sweetbitterbitten

[deficd]

@sweetbitterbitten​ like this post for a lil’ starter from... Dr. Strange Supreme!

     “Do you ever think we should stop meeting like this?”

[therelentless]

{ @sweetbitterbitten ;; cont.

The bed that had been offered to him was comfortable, it was also rather large in size, just as the room he was going to be spending the night in. The style of the bedroom, the colors, and the textures of the fabrics were all different from the place that he grew up calling his home, and yet, strangely enough, it reminded him so much of it.

Despite the bed being comfortable, there he was lying on the floor and hiding under it. -- Nandor looked down to where the new but at the same time familiar owner of the voice was. He wasn't expecting her to show up, he didn't mind the company, but he didn't want to be questioned of why he had opted for slumbering on the floor, and not under the sheet.

"Permission granted." Good manners, that was something Nandor knew how to appreciate. "Better leave the candle outside, unless you want us to catch on fire."

[sxcondqueen]

@sweetbitterbitten liked for a starter — lady bertilak

Christmas was drawing closer and closer in 1534, Queen Anne was visibly pregnant. She was happy. She had had her first child a year already, the Princess Elizabeth. And now she was pregnant again. Her second pregnancy showing far more quickly than her first had. She had heard from her mother that second and third pregnancies usually showed far more early than the first.

"My Lady Bertilak," she chirped, happily sitting in her chair, "would like to play some cards? It is a joyful time to be merry."