#Duchess Eliza

[charmspoint]

Sanguine Friday 1

In which I do my very very best to every friday post at least a little something about the original story I'm toying with, Sanguinary Waltz.

This week I bring you the blurb and the brief summary for the idea.

Next week I'll introduce the male lead.

Questions are welcome!

-

Blurb:

The gods are dead. Their angels brave the world like abandoned children. Vampires rise in droves, threatening to become to dominant species on the planet.

As an angel, Prinnsal knows that serving one being you know is better than testing the teeth of thousands you don’t. Freshly reeling from the betrayal and death of his own god, he throws himself into a service of a vampire. Duchess Eliza is everything nightmares are made of, sadistic, hungry and all too intently interested in using her new pet to social climb through the bloodthirsty world of her kin. With angels struggling for survival on one side and vampires trying to establish themselves on the other, the two enter a deadly dance of love, blood, and most importantly, utter obsession.

Summary:

The story is set in an alternate realty, in a world created by a group of gods. The gods initially made two groups of beings. Angels, who were their servants and nothing more than mindless, soulless tools for their will, and humans who served as more advanced toys of gods, able to make their own decisions. Most of the gods were satisfied with this, aside from the goddess of beauty, Lurza, who couldn’t make peace with her creations wilting and dying. To combat this, she made a new species, vampires, who she sent to earth to turn other humans and establish an era of eternal life and beauty. The gods fell into combat over this, most of them opposing Lurza’s plan, aside from the god of industry who had been courting her for centuries and who ravaged his own cities to provide aid to her cause. The war of the gods ended with all of them dead, with Lurza killing her lover to establish absolute control, with angels of all other gods left behind by their masters and the vampires allowed to freely rule over the world, increasing their numbers every day.

The story centres Prinnsal, an angel of the god of industry, trying to establish his own selfhood while surviving in the ravaged world left behind by the war. Prinnsal is bitter with his god because the years before the god’s death were filled with abuse and monstrous experiments to respec the angels under his rule. He had left the city his god had stationed him in, but not without being followed by one of the last angels to be created, still functioning on dead orders to keep her kin in line. To seek shelter from his pursuer, as well as the vampires that would more than gladly have him for breakfast, he enters into a deal with a low-ranking vampire, Duchess Eliza. In exchange for her protection, he gives away his life to service and acting as her walking blood dispenser.

Duchess Eliza wasn’t the first vampire ever created, but she was amongst them, as her family had been slain by the beasts some eighty years ago, turning them all. She is a devout worshiper of Lurza, often hosting parties and scarifies in the goddess’ name in order to appease her. Vampire society is split into strict social ranks and Eliza’s own is relatively low, so she dedicates herself to social climbing and power trips, trying to secure a firm grasp on the newly emerging horrors of the world. She sees a bragging right in Prinn. While most vampires do enjoy angel blood as a delicacy, it is hard to get by and most of the angel blood bags are prisoners being slowly drained in the basements. An angel on a leash is completely unheard of and therefor the deal grants her immense social benefits, along side the more material ones of fresh blood. She fully intends to eat Prinn if he becomes boring or useless to her agendas.

This is a story about struggle with identity. Developing one as an ex-tool and retaining one as a corrupted monster. It’s a story about evil, about people willing to do the unspeakable as long as it brings them to the top. It’s a story about love. Or maybe less love and more so obsession, worship, hunger. It’s a story of two people very determined to bend the world to their will if that is the only way they can survive it. A romance story. A horror story. A corruption story.

[king-alfred]

Happy birthday David Dawson (b. 7 September 1982)! 👑

[j-august]

Amanda Foreman, Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire

[cartoonmeangirlbracket]

[froppy-butterflyfan2000]

Cappyverse One-Shot: Holiday Special: July 4th: Summer BBQ: Take place on July 4th at Camp Synonymous, where the campers and counsellors enjoy barbecues.

Eliza, Haruko, Hyde, Lucius, Morgan, and Rebecca belong to @aprilbrowines

Damon (mentioned), Ethan, Serpent, Tamara, and Isaac belong to @ej-cappy-universe

Serenity (mentioned) and Sienna (mentioned) belong to @cooltmoney95

Agrippa, Albius, Beppi, Cezanne, Duchess, Eugenia, Hannibal, Hiraya, Holly, Janaya, Leona, Michiko (mentioned), Niko, and Zoey belong to @froppy-butterflyfan2000 (me)

[once-was-muses]

[ we doing Eliza Kraven, My Beloved Eliza Kraven Best Friend callouts on the dash today? Because *gestures at like ¼ of my current and previous muses* ]

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Precious Truths: Part 8

Fandom: Bridgerton

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!Reader

Summary: After your father finds out you’ve been writing under a male pseudonym, he threatens to marry you off to an atrocious man unless you find yourself a husband within a month’s time.

A/N: I will not be taking tags for this series!

Series Masterlist

You and Benedict spent the previous night talking until it was well late into the night. He escorted you back to your home to ensure nothing bad happened to you. No one had seen, of course, since all of the Ton was asleep.

Before stepping back into your home, you gave Benedict a hug, "You will always be my dearest friend, Ben. Never forget that."

He swallowed down the deep rooted desire to inform you of his affections. He can't. He mustn't. No matter how much he's been wanting to for so long.

_____________________

Because James was a friend of Simon and Daphne's, the Duchess decided to throw a celebratory ball at the Clyvedon Castle for your engagement. You tried to decline, but Daphne, much like her mother, is very persistent and convincing. You, Aunt Eliza, James, Auggie, and Daphne all rode back to Clyvedon together.

You had only gone to the castle once and that was for the ball Daphne held after she and Simon married. It was just as beautiful as you remembered.

Simon was there ready to greet his wife and son with open arms.

Daphne steps out of the carriage with the coachman's help, Auggie asleep in her arms.

Simon smiles as he approaches his wife, kissing her head and looking down at his son, "Back in my arms again."

He looks past Daphne and gives you and your aunt a nod, "I see you have come back with a few more guests than when you left, my love," he gives Daphne a teasing look.

She rolls her eyes at her husband, "I wrote to you informing of our added guests as well as the ball I plan to hold here in honor of James and Y/N's engagement."

Simon sighs, "I've yet to read this morning's letters. I have been busy."

Daphne gives him an understanding nod and the stands to the side as Simon walks over to you, your aunt, and James.

"Congratulations to you both. Excuse me for my surprise to your arrival, Y/N. I have been behind on my letters."

"I understand, Your Grace. And thank you for allowing my aunt and myself to stay here up until the ball."

"You are a friend of Daphne's, Y/N. You are always welcome here." he looks over his shoulder and gestures to the housekeeper, "Mrs. Colson, here, will show you to your rooms. I will let you all rest until dinner. Now if you excuse me, I'd like to spend some time with my family."

"Of course, Your Grace. Thank you again for your hospitality," Aunt Eliza says with a bow and watches with a smile as Simon escorts Daphne and Auggie inside.

James looks at you with soft eyes, "Would you like to take a walk around the grounds after you rest?"

"I'd enjoy that very much," he tips his hat to you and your aunt, "I shall see you later then." He then heads inside the castle to get some rest for himself.

________________________

"Benedict, I know this must be painful for you, but you need to show face! If not for Y/N then at least for Daphne," Violet Bridgerton looks at her second son as if he'd grown a second head.

Benedict had just informed his family that he will not be attending the ball Daphne is holding for you and Lord Montclair.

"I apologize, mother, but I already have prior engagements."

"What prior engagements?"

Benedict looks at his mother and the rest of his siblings. He sits up, "Well, I have an interview with the headmaster of an art academy."

"That's amazing, brother!" Hyacinth exclaims in excitement.

"Which academy?" Anthony asks.

"One in France."

"France?!" Gregory's jaw drops, "How did you get an interview?"

"I wrote a letter to them and a friend put in a good word for me."

Anthony scoffs, "You let a friend help you and it is fine. But when I help you, you get upset."

"This friend didn't use money to help my case, brother," Benedict practically sneers. He's clearly still a bit upset about Anthony practically buying his way into the academy. But this time, Benedict's work, determination, and Henry Granville's word, helped him. Not Anthony's money and status as Viscount.

"Well, I suppose I cannot be upset by that. Well done, Benedict."

He grins at Violet, "Thank you, mother."

___________________

Daphne was meant to be a duchess. Violet truly taught her well, you think, as you watch her list off orders and demands to Mrs. Colson and staff. You let her do her thing, occasionally answering questions in regards to what color theme you wanted, the flower arrangements, the entertainment, etc. Other than that, Daphne took the reigns of it all. You admired the young woman.

"Shall we take a break?" Daphne asks as she guides you to the balcony that overlooks the grounds. Some glasses of lemonade are out waiting for you both.

You both sit and sip from your glasses. You sigh, "You were truly meant for this life, Daphne. You fill the role so well."

"Soon you will be in a position similar to mine," she states with a smile.

You let out a deep breath, looking out to the grounds, "Yes, I suppose I will be. I am not sure I am as well prepared as you are."

"I'm sure your aunt has done the best she could. However, if you have any questions, I will be happy to answer them." She shoots you a grin.

You chuckle, "You might regret that, Your Grace."

"Ah, I was wondering where my fiancée had gone," you hear the marquess say as he steps onto the balcony. Fiancée. It was so odd that you were a fiancée now. Even weirder that your husband to be isn't a certain Bridger-no. You mentally scold yourself for thinking about Benedict. You need to not think of him anymore. You and he are not meant to be. Not now. Not ever.

You look up at him from your seat, "Yes. We were just taking a break from planning the ball. To be honest, Daphne is doing majority of the work. Also, I hope you don't mind, but I chose lavender as the colors."

"Not at all. I think you'd look beautiful in the color," James smiles at you and you can't help but shy from his gaze.

You clear your throat, "Yes, it is one of my favorite colors so if you are not fond of it, then we might have to rethink this marriage." You respond playfully, causing the marquess and duchess to chuckle.

"You are a funny one, mon cher," he looks to Daphne, "Is it alright if I steal her away for some time together?"

"Of course not, my Lord," Daphne says as she stands. She smooths out her dress and pats James' arm, "I should get back to planning anyway." She nods to both of you and enters her home, leaving you two alone.

James occupies the spot Daphne previously resided, "I should let you know that my family will also be attending this ball. I figured now would be the best time rather than at the wedding."

You nod, "Of course. I'd love to meet them. Both your parents and sisters will be in attendance?"

"That is correct. I must warn you, my sisters can be rather mischievous," he smirks at you and you giggle.

"Oh, I have experience with mischievous. Growing up with the Bridgertons has made me quite familiar with mischievous."

"My sisters will love you then. They are twins. Both ten and two. My mother does her best to raise them as young ladies, but," he shrugs with a guiltily, "I like to show them a few tricks here and there."

You laugh, "I can imagine the scoldings your mother gives you for teaching your sisters such 'un-ladylike' behavior."

He shrugs again, "I tend to be a bit more progressive in the notion of what women can and cannot do."

"That's...that's very relieving to here, my Lord."

"And why is that?"

You didn't plan on telling James your secret until well after you two married. However, an opportunity to come clean has presented itself. You've come to learn that James is kind, understanding, loving, compassionate, and open to the idea of women having more freedom.

Previously, you were apprehensive about telling James your secret, that you were writing under a man's name to publish your work. But now, you felt even more relieved and comfortable to know he most likely wouldn't treat you differently because you are pursuing your passion.

You let out a deep breath and reach out to James, placing your hand on his, "I must confess something to you."

"Yes?"

You open your mouth to confess, but you're interrupted as Mrs. Colson steps out, "Pardon me, miss, but her Grace has asked for you."

You nod, "Alright. I shall be with her in a moment."

Mrs. Colson retreats and you groan, "I must admit that I've lost my nerve now."

James places his other hand atop yours, "It's alright. Whenever you are ready to tell me, I shall listen with an open mind and heart."

You lean in and kiss his cheek, "I truly don't deserve you, my Lord."

He grins and stands, holding his hand out to you, "Come. Let's not keep the duchess waiting." you two walk together, hand in hand to meet with Daphne.

[estellan0vella]

Many More Happy Days - Kento Nanami AU Word Count: 6.6K Content Warnings: Death, Child Birth Complications, Still Birth Masterlist for Eras AU

You stand by the grand window in your father's estate, now your estate, gazing at the sprawling gardens that have been your sanctuary for as long as you can remember. The roses are in full bloom, their vibrant reds and pinks contrasting beautifully against the lush greenery. The fragrance drifts through the open window, mingling with the warm summer air. This estate, this legacy of your father, is now yours to command as the Duchess.

The title is a heavy mantle, a blend of pride and sorrow. Your father, the late Duke, was a man of wisdom and kindness, his absence felt in every corner of this vast mansion. As the sole heir, you inherited not just his title but also the responsibilities that come with it. Today, however, your thoughts are not entirely on the duties that await you but on the man who has captured your heart—Lord Kento Nanami.

Lord Nanami is a striking figure, his presence commanding and yet gentle, his manners impeccable. His devotion to you is unwavering, a fact that has been a source of comfort and joy in these trying times. You recall your first meeting at a grand ball, his quiet confidence and piercing gaze setting him apart from the other suitors. Since then, he has pursued you with a sincerity that is both endearing and refreshing.

A soft knock on the door pulls you from your reverie. "Enter," you call out, turning to face the visitor.

Your maid, Eliza, steps in, her expression respectful yet warm. "My Lady, Lord Nanami has arrived. He is waiting for you in the drawing room."

Your heart flutters at the mention of his name. "Thank you, Eliza. I shall be there shortly."

You take a moment to compose yourself, smoothing down the soft fabric of your dress, a rich emerald green that compliments your complexion. You glance at your reflection in the mirror, noting the anticipation in your eyes, the slight flush on your cheeks. Satisfied, you make your way to the drawing room, where Lord Nanami awaits.

As you enter the room, you find him standing by the fireplace, his tall frame silhouetted against the flickering flames. He turns at the sound of your approach, his eyes lighting up with genuine affection. "My Lady," he greets, bowing slightly.

"Lord Nanami," you reply, a smile tugging at your lips.

He steps forward, taking your hand in his, his touch warm and reassuring. "It is always a pleasure to see you," he murmurs, his voice low and sincere.

"The pleasure is mine," you respond, feeling the familiar comfort of his presence.

He leads you to a settee by the window, where the light filters through the lace curtains, casting delicate patterns on the floor. You sit beside him, your hands still entwined.

"I have brought something for you," he says, reaching into his coat pocket. He produces a small, intricately carved wooden box and hands it to you.

Curious, you open the box to find a delicate gold locket nestled inside. The craftsmanship is exquisite, the locket adorned with tiny emeralds that catch the light. "It's beautiful," you breathe, touched by the thoughtful gift.

"It belonged to my mother," he explains, his tone gentle. "She always believed that such treasures should be given to those who would cherish them. I can think of no one more deserving than you."

Your eyes meet his, and you see the depth of his sincerity. "Thank you, Kento. I will treasure it always."

He smiles, a rare, genuine smile that softens his usually stoic features. "I am glad to hear that."

The afternoon passes in a blur of conversation and shared laughter. You talk about everything and nothing, finding solace in each other's company. Lord Nanami's devotion is evident in the way he listens, the way he looks at you, the way he anticipates your needs without being overbearing. It is a courtship built on mutual respect and genuine affection, a rarity in your world of arranged marriages and strategic alliances.

As the sun begins to set, casting a warm golden glow over the room, Lord Nanami rises, reluctantly preparing to take his leave. "I must go, but I shall return tomorrow," he promises, his gaze lingering on you.

"I will look forward to it," you reply, your heart full.

He bows once more, his lips brushing the back of your hand before he turns to leave. You watch him go, a sense of contentment settling over you. In a world full of uncertainties, Lord Kento Nanami is a constant, a steadfast presence in your life. His devotion to you is unwavering, and for that, you are profoundly grateful.

The days turn into weeks, and your courtship with Lord Nanami continues to blossom. He visits you daily, each time bringing a new token of his affection—a book he thinks you'll enjoy, a rare flower from his gardens, or simply his time and company. His attentiveness is unwavering, and you find yourself looking forward to his visits more and more.

One afternoon, as you stroll through the gardens together, he pauses by the rose bushes, his expression contemplative. "There is something I wish to ask you," he begins, his tone uncharacteristically hesitant.

You stop beside him, your curiosity piqued. "What is it, Kento?"

He takes a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours with a seriousness that makes your heart race. "I know that our courtship has been brief by some standards, but I have come to care for you deeply. You are the most remarkable woman I have ever met, and I cannot imagine my life without you. Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"

His words take your breath away. You have always known that your feelings for Lord Nanami were strong, but hearing him speak of his love and commitment so openly leaves you momentarily speechless. The sincerity in his eyes, the earnestness in his voice—it is everything you have ever wanted.

"Yes, Kento," you reply, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside you. "I would be honoured to be your wife."

A look of pure joy crosses his face, and he takes your hands in his, his grip firm and reassuring. "You have made me the happiest man alive," he murmurs, his voice filled with emotion.

You smile, feeling a sense of peace and happiness settle over you. In this moment, surrounded by the beauty of the gardens and the man you love, you know that your future is bright. Together, you and Lord Kento Nanami will face whatever challenges come your way, your love and devotion guiding you through.

The wedding preparations begin almost immediately, the estate buzzing with activity as plans are made for the grand celebration. Lord Nanami insists on handling many of the details himself, wanting everything to be perfect for you. His dedication and attention to detail are evident in every aspect of the planning, from the choice of flowers to the selection of the menu.

Every morning, Kento arrives at the estate to discuss the arrangements. You sit together in the drawing room, pouring over fabric samples for the table linens, tasting dishes prepared by the chef, and reviewing the guest list. Kento's suggestions are always thoughtful, taking your preferences into account with each decision. You are touched by his commitment to making this day special for you.

The flowers are one of the most important decisions. You both visit the greenhouse, selecting a variety of blooms that will create a breathtaking display. Roses, lilies, and peonies in shades of ivory, blush, and deep crimson are chosen to adorn the grand hall. Kento arranges for a renowned florist to craft stunning centrepieces and bouquets, ensuring that the floral arrangements will be nothing short of spectacular.

The menu is another labour of love. Together, you sample an array of dishes, each one more delicious than the last. You finally settle on a menu that includes delicate hors d'oeuvres, a sumptuous main course featuring roasted pheasant and seasonal vegetables, and an array of decadent desserts. Each dish is paired with fine wines and champagne, chosen by Kento with great care.

As the day of the wedding approaches, you find yourself filled with a mix of excitement and nervousness. Eliza helps you into your wedding gown, a beautiful creation of lace and silk that makes you feel like a princess.

The gown is an heirloom, passed down through generations, and it fits you perfectly. The intricate lacework and delicate beading shimmer in the light, and the long, flowing train adds a touch of regal elegance.

Eliza pins your veil in place, her eyes shining with pride and happiness. "You look stunning, my Lady," she says, her voice filled with emotion.

"Thank you, Eliza," you reply, giving her hand a grateful squeeze. "For everything."

The ceremony takes place in the estate's grand hall, transformed into a vision of beauty. The walls are adorned with garlands of flowers, and candles flicker softly, casting a warm glow over the room. A string quartet plays a gentle melody as guests take their seats, the air filled with a sense of anticipation.

Kento Nanami stands at the altar, his tall frame and handsome features commanding attention. He is dressed in a finely tailored suit, the dark fabric contrasting sharply with his crisp white shirt. His eyes never leave yours as you make your way down the aisle, your heart pounding with each step. His expression is one of awe and love, and you feel your heart swell with emotion.

The officiant, a respected clergyman who has known your family for years, begins the ceremony with words of wisdom and blessings. The vows you exchange are deeply personal, crafted from the heart. Lord Nanami's voice is steady and filled with emotion as he pledges his love and devotion to you.

"I, Kento, take you, my beloved, to be my wife. I promise to cherish you, to honour and respect you, and to stand by your side through all the days of our lives."

As he slips the ring onto your finger, you feel a sense of completeness, as if everything in your life has led to this moment. You repeat your vows, your voice unwavering as you promise to love and cherish him for all eternity.

"I, [Y/N], take you, Kento, to be my husband. I promise to love you, to support and respect you, and to stand by your side through all the days of our lives."

"I now pronounce you husband and wife," the officiant declares, and the room erupts into applause.

Kento leans in, his lips brushing yours in a gentle yet passionate kiss. "I love you," he whispers against your lips.

"And I love you," you reply, your heart full.

The reception is a joyous affair, filled with laughter, music, and dancing. The grand hall is transformed into a ballroom, the tables adorned with exquisite floral arrangements and sparkling crystal. The chandeliers overhead cast a warm, golden light, adding to the enchanting atmosphere.

You and Kento share your first dance as husband and wife, the music carrying you across the floor in a graceful waltz. His arms hold you close, his touch reassuring and tender. As you glide together, you feel the eyes of your guests upon you, their smiles and applause a testament to the joy they share in your union.

The meal is a culinary delight, each course a masterpiece of flavour and presentation. Toasts are made, heartfelt speeches delivered by friends and family who celebrate your love and the journey that brought you together.

Kento's best man, a close friend from his days at university, speaks of his unwavering loyalty and the deep respect he holds for him. Your maid of honour, Eliza, shares memories of your childhood and the bond that has grown even stronger over the years.

Lord Nanami never leaves your side, his devotion to you is evident in every touch, every glance. As the evening winds down, you find yourselves alone on the terrace, the stars shining brightly overhead.

"This has been the happiest day of my life," you say, leaning into his embrace.

"And mine," he agrees, his arms tightening around you. "I look forward to many more happy days with you, my love."

Months have passed since your enchanting wedding day, and life with Kento is nothing short of blissful. Your love for each other deepens with each passing day, your connection growing stronger as you navigate the joys and challenges of married life together.

One morning, as you stand by the window in your bedroom, looking out over the blooming gardens, you feel a strange wave of dizziness wash over you. It's fleeting, but enough to make you take a seat on the edge of the bed. You've been feeling unusually fatigued lately, and there's a lingering nausea that you can't quite shake. You decide to visit the physician, more out of precaution than genuine concern.

Dr. Ellison, the family physician, examines you thoroughly. His kind eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles, delivering the news that both excites and astounds you. "Congratulations, Duchess," he says warmly. "You are with child."

The words echo in your mind, a blend of joy and disbelief flooding your senses. You thank Dr. Ellison and make your way back to the estate, your heart pounding with the news you can't wait to share with Kento.

You find him in his study, engrossed in a book. As you step into the room, he looks up, a smile instantly lighting his face. "My love, you're back early. Is everything alright?"

You walk over to him, taking his hands in yours and drawing him to his feet. "Kento, I have wonderful news," you say, unable to keep the excitement from your voice. "We're going to have a baby."

His eyes widen, the book slipping from his grasp as he pulls you into a tight embrace. "A baby?" he repeats, his voice a mixture of awe and happiness. "We're going to be parents?"

"Yes," you laugh, tears of joy springing to your eyes. "We're going to be parents."

Kento lifts you off your feet, spinning you around in sheer delight. When he sets you down, he places a tender kiss on your forehead. "I love you so much," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "You have made me the happiest man in the world."

The news of your pregnancy spreads quickly through the estate, and soon everyone is celebrating the upcoming arrival. Eliza is particularly overjoyed, fussing over you and ensuring you are comfortable and well taken care of. She becomes your confidante and constant companion, helping you through the various stages of pregnancy with her usual grace and care.

As the months pass, Kento's devotion to you becomes even more evident. He dotes on you, ensuring you have everything you need and more. He reads every book he can find on childbirth and parenting, eager to be the best father he can be. He often speaks to your growing belly, whispering sweet words to the child within, his voice filled with love and wonder.

One evening, as you sit together in the drawing room, Kento rests his hand gently on your swollen belly. The baby kicks, and you both laugh, feeling the little one's strong presence.

"Do you think it's a boy or a girl?" Kento asks, his eyes shining with curiosity and excitement.

"I don't know," you reply, smiling at him. "But I do know that they will be loved beyond measure."

One particular evening, you and Kento are sitting in the drawing room, the fire crackling softly in the hearth. The room is filled with the cosy scent of burning wood and the faint aroma of lavender from the nearby garden. You are reclining on a plush chaise lounge, and Kento is seated next to you, his hand resting gently on your swollen belly. The baby gives a strong kick, and Kento's eyes light up with joy.

"Did you feel that?" he asks, his voice filled with wonder.

You laugh softly, nodding. "Yes, our little one seems to be quite energetic tonight."

Kento leans closer, placing his ear against your belly as if he's trying to hear the baby. "Hello, little one," he murmurs, his voice gentle. "This is your father speaking. I can't wait to meet you and hold you in my arms."

You run your fingers through his hair, touched by his tender words. "Kento, do you ever think about what kind of parent you'll be?"

He looks up at you, his eyes serious but filled with love. "Every day. I want to be the best father possible. I want to be there for every moment, to guide them, protect them, and show them all the love in the world."

You smile, your heart swelling with affection. "You'll be an amazing father, Kento. I have no doubt about that."

He sits back up, his hand never leaving your belly. "And you will be the most wonderful mother. Our child is so lucky to have you."

You both fall into a comfortable silence, the weight of your words sinking in. The future seems bright and full of promise, with the love you share as the foundation for the family you are building together.

As the months progress, Kento's anticipation and excitement grow. He attends every doctor's appointment with you, always attentive and supportive. He arranges for a nursery to be prepared, choosing soft, pastel colours and hand-painted murals of woodland scenes. You both spend hours in the nursery, imagining the day you'll bring your baby home.

One day, as you're organizing tiny clothes and arranging toys, Kento comes in with a wooden rocking chair. "I found this in the attic," he says, setting it down gently. "It was my mother's. She used to rock me to sleep in this chair."

You touch the smooth wood, feeling a connection to Kento's past. "It's beautiful. I'm sure our baby will love it."

Kento sits down in the chair, testing its gentle sway. "I can picture it already," he says, smiling. "Late nights, rocking our baby to sleep, telling them stories."

You sit down on the edge of the bed, watching him. "Kento, I love how much thought you're putting into everything. It means so much to me."

He stands up, walking over to you and kneeling at your feet. "This is our child, our family. Every moment matters. I want to make sure everything is perfect for you both."

Tears fill your eyes as you reach out to cup his face. "I love you, Kento Nanami. More than words can ever express."

He kisses your hand, his eyes shining with emotion. "And I love you, my dearest. You are my everything."

The day finally arrives. You wake in the early hours of the morning with a dull ache that quickly intensifies. The room is bathed in the soft, pre-dawn glow, the air cool and still. Kento, ever vigilant, is by your side in an instant, his presence a comforting anchor in the midst of your growing discomfort. "It's time," you whisper, your voice tinged with both fear and excitement.

He helps you dress, his movements calm and efficient despite the urgency of the situation. The gentle rustle of fabric and the occasional sound of your laboured breathing fills the room. "I've already sent for the midwife," he says reassuringly, his eyes never leaving yours. "Everything will be alright, my love."

The hours that follow are a blur of pain and exertion. The once serene bedroom now feels like a battlefield, every contraction a reminder of the immense effort your body is undertaking. Kento never leaves your side, holding your hand and murmuring words of encouragement. His voice, though steady, carries an undercurrent of worry that mirrors your own.

As the labour progresses, something feels terribly wrong. The midwife's face, initially calm and composed, grows increasingly concerned. The room fills with tense, anxious energy, the air thick with the unspoken fear that something is amiss.

"Kento," you gasp, gripping his hand tightly, your knuckles white. "Something's wrong."

"Shh, my love," he soothes, though his own fear is evident in the tightness of his jaw and the furrow of his brow. "You're doing great. Just hold on a little longer."

The midwife whispers to her assistant, her face pale and drawn. "The baby is in distress," she says urgently, her voice barely above a whisper. "We need to act fast."

Panic seizes Kento's heart as he looks at you, sweat glistening on your brow, your breaths coming in ragged gasps. "What can I do?" he asks desperately, his voice strained with the weight of helplessness.

The midwife shakes her head, her expression grave. "Pray," she says quietly, the single word a stark admission of the gravity of the situation. "Pray for a miracle."

Hours stretch on, the pain becoming unbearable, a relentless tide that threatens to sweep you away. Your vision blurs, the edges of the room growing dim as exhaustion and fear take their toll. "Kento," you whisper, tears streaming down your face, mingling with the sweat that beads on your forehead. "I'm scared."

"I'm here, my love," he replies, his voice breaking as he clutches your hand, his own eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I'm right here."

The room is a blur of frantic activity, the midwife and her assistants working tirelessly, their movements a flurry of practised urgency. But despite their best efforts, you feel the life draining from you, a cold numbness creeping in from the edges of your consciousness. 

"Kento, promise me," you say, your voice weak, each word a monumental effort. "Promise me you'll be happy."

"Don't talk like that," he pleads, tears in his eyes, his grip on your hand tightening as if he can keep you tethered to him through sheer will. "You're going to be fine. We're going to be a family."

You manage a faint smile, the last vestiges of your strength slipping away. Your hand slips from his grasp, the warmth of his touch fading as darkness closes in around you. "I love you," you whisper, your voice barely audible, a final, fragile thread connecting you to the man you love.

"I love you too," he chokes out, his heart breaking as he watches the light fade from your eyes, the life you shared slipping away into the void.

The room falls silent, the midwife stepping back with a look of defeat etched into her features. "I'm sorry," she says softly, her voice a hollow echo of the heartbreak that fills the room. "She's gone."

Kento's world shatters in an instant, the unbearable weight of loss crushing him beneath its relentless force. He clutches your lifeless hand, his tears falling freely, unchecked. "No," he whispers, his voice a raw, anguished plea. "No, please. Don't leave me."

The midwife places a hand on his shoulder, her expression one of deep sorrow and helplessness. "The baby," she says gently, her words a dagger to his already shattered heart. "I'm afraid... the baby didn't make it either."

Kento's breath catches in his throat, the crushing weight of his grief rendering him speechless. He collapses to the floor, his sobs wracking his body, the magnitude of his loss an unbearable burden. "Why?" he cries out, his voice filled with despair and disbelief. "Why did this happen?"

Kento's cries echo through the room, a poignant symphony of heartbreak that pierces the stillness. The midwife and her assistants, their faces drawn with sorrow, step back to give him a moment with his loss. The world outside the estate moves on, oblivious to the tragedy that has unfolded within its walls.

Days blend into nights, and the estate falls into a heavy silence. The staff, once bustling with the excitement of the upcoming birth, now move quietly, their faces shadowed with grief. Eliza, her own eyes red-rimmed from tears, takes on the task of arranging the funeral, knowing that Kento is in no state to do so.

In the days that follow, Kento moves through the mansion like a ghost. He spends hours in the nursery, sitting in the rocking chair, staring at the empty crib. The dreams he had of holding his child, of seeing you as a mother, haunt him in the silence of those rooms.

The funeral is a sombre affair. Friends and family gather to pay their respects, their faces masks of shared sorrow. Kento stands at the graveside, his expression blank, as if all emotion has been drained from him. As the caskets are lowered into the ground, he feels a part of his soul being buried with you and the child you never got to meet.

A decade has passed since the day Kento lost you and your stillborn child. The once-vibrant halls of the estate have become silent. The vibrant energy that once defined his every step has been replaced by a solemn, almost ghostly presence. Kento Nanami, the once joyous and devoted husband, has become a shadow of his former self.

He spends his days in a solitary routine, the ghostly remnants of his past life ever-present in his mind. Each morning, he wakes in the same bedroom, the bed beside him eternally empty. The garden outside, once meticulously tended by you, has grown wild and untamed, much like his heart. He rarely leaves the estate, preferring the company of your memory to the harsh reality of the world outside.

One fateful day, Kento feels an unusual weariness. It begins with a fever that leaves him sweating and shivering in equal measure. His head throbs with a persistent pain, and he feels a deep, unyielding fatigue that saps the strength from his bones. Dr. Ellison, the family physician, is summoned, his brow furrowed with concern as he examines Kento.

"It's typhoid," Dr. Ellison says gravely, his voice laced with the weight of the diagnosis. "You need to rest, and we must keep you hydrated. I'll do everything I can."

Kento nods weakly, a ghost of his former self. He lies in bed, staring up at the ceiling, the feverish haze blurring the edges of his vision. Days pass in a fog of delirium, the line between reality and memory growing ever thinner. As the illness ravages his body, his mind drifts back to you, the love of his life, the one he lost so tragically.

In his fevered state, he often speaks aloud, as if you are there beside him. "I miss you," he whispers into the empty room, his voice cracking. "Every day, I miss you."

Eliza, who has stayed on all these years, tends to him with unwavering dedication. She hears his murmurs and her heart aches for the man who has suffered so much. "Rest, my Lord," she says softly, dabbing his forehead with a cool cloth. "You need your strength."

But Kento is beyond physical healing. The typhoid is relentless, and he knows, deep down, that his time is drawing to a close. One night, as the fever reaches its peak, he feels a sense of peace wash over him. The pain subsides, replaced by a gentle warmth. He closes his eyes, surrendering to the inevitable.

Once he passes, the world around him fades, replaced by a familiar, comforting presence. He finds himself standing in a beautiful meadow, bathed in golden light. The air is warm, filled with the scent of blooming flowers and the gentle hum of life. He looks down and realizes that his body is whole again, free from the ravages of illness.

"Kento," a voice calls softly, a voice he knows better than his own. He turns, and there you are, standing before him, radiant and serene. Your eyes shine with the same love and tenderness that filled his heart a decade ago.

"My love," he breathes, his voice filled with awe and reverence. "Is it really you?"

You nod, a gentle smile gracing your lips. "Yes, Kento. I've been waiting for you."

Tears of joy and relief stream down his face as he steps forward, closing the distance between you. He reaches out, hesitant, as if afraid you might vanish like a dream. But when his hand touches yours, the connection is real, solid, and undeniable. He pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly, never wanting to let go.

"I've missed you so much," he whispers, his voice choked with emotion. "Every moment without you has been unbearable."

"I know," you reply, your hand stroking his hair soothingly. "But we're together now. Forever."

The weight of the past decade falls away, replaced by a profound sense of peace. Kento looks into your eyes, finding solace in their depths. "I thought I'd never see you again," he says, his voice a mixture of relief and lingering disbelief.

"You were always in my heart," you reply softly. "And now, we have eternity."

Hand in hand, you walk through the meadow, the sun casting a warm glow over the landscape. The pain and sorrow of the past fade away, replaced by the boundless joy of reunion. Kento feels whole again, his soul reuniting with the piece that was missing for so long.

As you walk, you speak of the times you missed, the dreams you had for your future. Kento listens, his heart swelling with love and gratitude. "I promised you I'd be happy," he says, his voice steady. "But it was so hard without you."

"You did your best," you assure him, your eyes filled with understanding. "And now, we can be happy together."

The meadow stretches out before you, a realm of endless possibilities. As you walk, Kento feels a sense of hope and renewal. The pain of the past is but a distant memory, overshadowed by the love and joy that fill his heart.

"Thank you for waiting for me," he says, his voice filled with sincerity.

"I would wait forever for you," you reply, squeezing his hand gently. "You're my heart, Kento. Now and always."

Together, you continue your journey, the love you share lighting the path ahead. In this eternal meadow, you find the peace and happiness that eluded you in life, a testament to the enduring power of your love.

Kento finally feels at home, his soul at rest. With you by his side, he knows that he is exactly where he is meant to be. As the sun sets, casting a golden glow over the meadow, he looks into your eyes and smiles, his heart filled with a contentment he has not known in years.

"We have all the time in the world now," he says softly.

"Yes," you reply, your smile mirroring his. "All the time in the world."

In the afterlife, Kento finds his eternal happiness, reunited with the love of his life. Together, you walk forward, hand in hand, ready to face eternity together. The love that once was lost is now found, a bond that not even death could break.

In a grand, old classroom adorned with portraits of historical figures and tapestries depicting ancient battles, Professor Evelyn Carrington stands before her attentive students. The sun filters through the tall, arched windows, casting a golden glow on the wooden desks and shelves filled with dusty tomes. Today, she will tell the tale of Lord Kento Nanami and his Duchess, a story of love, loss, and the end of a noble line.

"Good morning, class," Professor Carrington begins, her voice resonating with authority and warmth. "Today, we delve into the Victorian Era and I wanted to start us with a tale."

She gestures to a portrait hanging on the wall. It depicts a handsome man with kind eyes and a noble bearing. Beside him is a beautiful woman, her eyes filled with warmth and grace. "This is Lord Kento Nanami and his beloved wife, the Duchess. Their story is one of deep love and profound tragedy."

The students lean forward, eager to hear the tale. Professor Carrington continues, her voice filled with emotion. "Kento Nanami was a respected nobleman, known for his wisdom and kindness. He married the love of his life, a woman, a duchess who inherited the title after the passing of her father, but her name has sadly been forgotten, lost in time, but her impact on his life was immeasurable. Kento Nanami became a Duke when he married the duchess"

As she speaks, the room seems to transport back in time, the portraits and tapestries fading into scenes from the past. The students can almost see the bustling estate, the blooming gardens, and the grandeur of the Nanami household.

"Their wedding was a grand affair," Professor Carrington recounts. "A celebration of love that brought together nobles from across the land. They were deeply in love, and their marriage was the envy of many. For a time, it seemed they were destined for a long and happy life together."

She pauses, letting the weight of the next part of the story settle in. "But fate had other plans. After a blissful year of marriage, the Duchess became pregnant. The estate was filled with joy and anticipation. Lord Nanami was overjoyed at the prospect of becoming a father."

A murmur of sympathy ripples through the classroom as Professor Carrington's expression grows sombre. "However, tragedy struck on the day of the birth. Complications arose, and despite the best efforts of the midwife and the family physician, both the Duchess and the child passed away."

The students are silent, the gravity of the loss sinking in. Professor Carrington's eyes reflect the sorrow of the tale. "Lord Nanami was devastated. He retreated into solitude, the once vibrant estate falling into disrepair. He never recovered from the loss of his wife and child. He lived in mourning, haunted by their absence. Much how Queen Victoria did when mourning the loss of her husband"

She moves to another portrait, this one of the estate in its prime, lush and vibrant. "The estate, once a symbol of prosperity and joy, became a shadow of its former self. Lord Nanami, a man once full of life, became a recluse."

The professor's voice softens as she continues. "Ten years later, Lord Nanami contracted typhoid. His weakened state and the lack of will to fight the illness led to his untimely death. With his passing, the Dukedom of Nanami came to an end. There were no other relatives to inherit the title, no heirs to continue the legacy."

She looks around the room, her gaze meeting the eyes of each student. "And so, the once-great Dukedom of Nanami faded into history. Their story is a testament to the fragility of human life and the enduring power of love."

A student raises his hand, his expression thoughtful. "Professor Carrington, what happened to the estate after Lord Nanami's death?"

"The estate was left to the state," she replies. "Without an heir, it was repurposed for various uses over the years. Parts of it fell into ruin, while others were preserved as historical sites. Today, the estate stands as a poignant reminder of the Nanami legacy."

Another student speaks up, her voice tinged with curiosity. "Do we know anything about the Duchess? Her family or her background?"

Professor Carrington shakes her head sadly. "Very little is known about the Duchess. Records from that time are sparse, and much of her personal history has been lost to time. What remains are the memories and the impact she had on Lord Nanami."

The golden light of the classroom seemed to flicker as the students absorbed the weight of the tale. Professor Evelyn Carrington, standing tall and composed, allowed the silence to deepen before continuing, her gaze steady and thoughtful.

"The story of Lord Kento Nanami and his Duchess is more than just a narrative of love and loss," she resumed. "It is also a window into the societal and personal challenges of the Victorian era, an era defined by its strict social hierarchies, its advancements, and its tragedies."

She moved toward a large, detailed map of the Victorian territories pinned to the wall, tracing her finger along the borders of Lord Nanami's estate. "The estate itself was a microcosm of the period. At its height, it was a bustling centre of activity, reflecting the prosperity and potential of the time. It employed hundreds of workers, from gardeners and housemaids to farmers and artisans. Each played a crucial role in maintaining the grandeur of the estate and the livelihood of its inhabitants."

A student raised a hand, his face reflecting a mixture of fascination and confusion. "Professor, how did such a prominent estate fall into such disrepair so quickly after Lord Nanami's death?"

"An excellent question," she replied, nodding appreciatively. "When a noble line ends abruptly, the implications are far-reaching. Estates of such magnitude require constant oversight and a dedicated heir to ensure their upkeep. With Lord Nanami's death and no immediate heir to take over, there was no one to manage the vast resources or the intricate web of responsibilities. The state took over, but the transition was not smooth. Mismanagement, neglect, and a lack of personal investment led to the estate's rapid decline."

The students' faces were a tapestry of emotions—sympathy, curiosity, and a newfound understanding of the historical depth behind personal tragedies. Professor Carrington allowed a brief pause before addressing another raised hand.

"Professor Carrington, do we know if there were any efforts made to preserve the legacy of the Nanami Dukedom before it was repurposed by the state?"

"Yes, there were some efforts, though they were fragmented and largely unsuccessful," she answered. "After Lord Nanami's death, several attempts were made by distant relatives and former associates to preserve the estate. However, without a central figure of authority or a unifying vision, these efforts faltered. Historical societies eventually stepped in, focusing on preserving key parts of the estate as a testament to its former glory and as a symbol of the era's architectural and cultural heritage."

She pointed to a black-and-white photograph of the estate in its dilapidated state. "This image, taken shortly before the historical societies' intervention, shows the main house and gardens in a state of disrepair. Yet, even in its decline, there was a haunting beauty—a reminder of what once was and the stories that lingered in its walls."

Another student, her expression pensive, asked, "Professor, is there any particular reason why the Duchess's name and background were lost to history? How could someone so integral to this story become almost anonymous?"

Professor Carrington sighed softly, a look of contemplation on her face. "Historical records from the Victorian era can be notoriously incomplete, especially concerning women. The Duchess, though highly influential in Lord Nanami's life, might not have been documented extensively in official records. Her personal papers could have been lost, destroyed, or simply never created with the same care afforded to her husband's records. Moreover, societal norms often relegated women's identities to their husbands, overshadowing their individual contributions and stories."

The room fell silent again as the students reflected on the poignant truth of her words. Finally, Professor Carrington stepped back, allowing her gaze to sweep across the classroom.

"Remember, history is not just about dates and events; it is about the lives lived, the love shared, and the losses endured. Lord Kento Nanami and his Duchess remind us of the human element within the grand tapestry of our past. It is our responsibility as historians to piece together these fragments and honour the memories of those who came before us, ensuring their stories, however fragmented, are not forgotten."

The bell rang, signalling the end of the lecture. The students slowly gathered their belongings, still lost in the echoes of the tale they had just heard. As they filed out of the classroom, Professor Carrington looked up at the portrait of Lord Nanami and his Duchess one last time, a gentle smile touching her lips. The legacy of the two lovers, though marred by tragedy, lived on through the stories she shared and the lessons learned by her students.

taglist: @sad-darksoul

[positivelybeastly]

From the Ashes Infinity Comics #15: Pygmalion, Part 1

So, for those who are not aware - Infinity Comics are online-only comics distributed through Marvel Unlimited, their subscription based app and browser collection of comics. Regarded as 'inessential,' but still very much canon, the raft of Infinity Comics coming out of From the Ashes have been quite good, but I haven't seen fit to comment on them for a bit, until now, because . . .

Let's go.

For those not aware, Pygmalion is a famous novel by George Bernard Shaw, detailing the attempt by a phonetics professor called Henry Higgins to 'elevate' a Cockney flower-girl named Eliza Doolittle.

Intrigued by a bet that he could pass her off as a duchess through careful schooling, he decides to take her on, and though he succeeds, she ends up feeling marginalised and overlooked, treated as an object of gambling and curiosity rather than an individual in her own right, and though the play is best known for the 'culturing' of Eliza Doolittle, it is as much about the arrogance of Higgins, who is a thoroughly unpleasant and rude individual, in thinking that he has any ownership over Eliza for his education of her. He may have 'created' her, but he does not control her.

The Factory that the X-Men are living in at present must have really good central heating for Cyclops to be wearing basketball shorts and a crop top that short.

Beast is currently investigating some kind of issue with Magneto's chromosomes - to put it succinctly, he appears to be ageing rapidly, and does not have access to his X-gene at present. This is a continuation of the storyline in the previous Infinity arc, which focused on Magneto.

Something worth noting - this is the first acknowledgement of the fact that though Hank's body may be of roughly the same physical age as his original, his mind is considerably younger, situated at some point in his mid 20s. For someone who was always the oldest of the original X-Men, this is fairly significant.

Also worth noting - Hank joins the ranks of superheroes who are actively seeking therapy for their problems! Good on you, Hank! And good on you, too, Scott, for suggesting it. Though, perhaps, given recent developments in the mainline X-Men comics, you should take your own advice . . .

The fact that Hank refers to himself as the only one left seemingly confirms that X-Force took care of the Beast clones who Beast Prime planted around various landmarks as part of the Ghost Calendars arc. Though they were defeated in their respective future timelines, I wasn't quite sure if they had been taken care of in the present as well. This seemingly confirms that they were.

Hank's therapist is Dr. Andrea Sterman, a supporting character from Jed MacKay's Moon Knight run, and a member of the Midnight Mission. Given that the writer, Alex Paknadel, confirmed on Twitter that he talked with Jed MacKay about making sure all the details for Hank's storyline would line up with the mainline X-Men book, I can only imagine this was done as a rather fun continuity nod.

Hank also refers to a Shi'ar warship, an avian alien race that the X-Men deal with on a regular basis. This makes sense, given that Hank was beamed aboard the Shi'ar imperial flagship during the events of Dark Phoenix Saga in 1981 - ancient history for us, but relatively fresh in Hank's mind, given his memories come from 1985.

Hank, naturally, does himself a disservice here. Dark Beast was, assumedly, abducted at a relatively young age from his human parents, and indoctrinated by Mister Sinister as something of a protege - a protege living in perpetual fear of his mentor. He probably didn't have a chance to develop any kind of moral code divorced from the social Darwinist hellhole that is the Age of Apocalypse.

That being said, Hank probably lacks that context, and Dark Beast is unique among Age of Apocalypse denizens, not just for his unerringly cruel nature, having never shown any altruistic tendencies (unlike, say, AoA Cyclops or Nightcrawler), but also for his resilience. He persists, even now - though last seen in Immortal X-Men #9 as a head in a jar, he has come back from the dead at least twice before, and it is unlikely he is gone for good.

Fun fact - his appearance here is based on the costume he wore during his scrap with Emma Frost's X-Men team in a confrontation with Spider-Man and the Lizard. Though the X-Men naturally encountered him after this point, it's fun that this appearance by Dark Beast is considered iconic enough to be the 'definitive' look for him by this comic.

Hank's final remark, about 'Henry McCoy plus time equals atrocity,' is a sentiment often repeated on social media boards, and it's interesting to see it being internalised by Hank himself, given his unique perspective on the events that created his future self and the other potential timelines the X-Men files likely refer to.

Mm. A lot to unpack here.

Hank's relationship with his X-gene has always been complicated, and the way he views it here, as essentially morphing him into a shape that he finds abhorrent, predatory, and beyond his control, is consistent with how Hank seemed to see himself during his feline mutation, which lasted from 2000 to 2013.

Though his feline phase is not referenced in this comic, beyond the 'over time, and with a little help, these became more pronounced,' (probably a reference to Sage's jumpstarting his secondary mutation) it assumedly would be in the files Hank has been using to catch up, and one has to wonder if he's been repeating some of the thought processes that made feline Hank such a uniquely neurotic version of the character.

It's also nice to see a canonisation of my long held fanon that Hank's X-gene is actively attempting to craft a form for him that is best suited for survival, a belief that Hank only hinted at back in Morrison's New X-Men, but which made sense, given the circumstances of his mutation in X-Treme X-Men.

That being said, Hank's own mind seemingly strays back to the night his furry mutation first manifested at the Brand Corporation in Amazing Adventures, where he flew into a berserker rage and nearly killed Carl Maddicks, which always seemed a little incongruous with how Hank was written in subsequent appearances in Avengers and Defenders, but which now seems to be retroactively made an expression of the brutality he was capable of during his feline phase.

The 'violent upheavals' Hank refers to here are likely his initial secondary mutation, and then his near-death experience when said mutation randomly destabilised in All-New X-Men. It could also be a reference to his numerous genetic troubles during X-Factor volume 1.

His opining that he found refuge in the life of the mind is very reminiscent of Hank's desire to find meaning in poetry, literature, art, humanity, in the wake of the changes in his body in both X-Factor and New X-Men. X-Factor #33 and New X-Men #117 both specifically reference his delight in the freedom to think, in opposition to the clouding of the mind that came with his Pestilence inflicted dumbing down, or his newly awakened predatory impulses.

Ironically enough, Magneto is, aside from Simon Williams, the character with whom this version of Hank has shared the most panel time and dialogue, between his conversations in X-Men and previous From the Ashes Infinity Comics. It would appear that Max's need for a cure for his condition are fostering a necessarily stronger bond than Hank and Max have ever shared before in canon.

Precisely where the rest of the team is during the course of these events is unknown. If I had to guess, it's possible this might be set during the events of X-Men #2, where the rest of the team was attending to a mutant rescue in San Francisco, accounting for the lack of availability of the Marauder and a reliance on an old Quinjet.

Quite how Hank got his hands on said Quinjet is unknown, though it's possible it might be a holdover from Hank's Defender days, where he would regularly borrow a Quinjet from the Avengers, for purposes ranging from actual superhero missions to attending Patsy Walker's wedding.

Though this Hank's memories originate in closest proximity to the Defenders, and though that team did enjoy some degree of notoriety under Hank and Candy Southern's stewardship, the Avengers have always been where Hank was most popular in-universe, and he has had a habit of using that association to smooth things over in mutant related books, such as in X-Factor volume 1 and the 90s X-Men run.

Unfortunately, mutant rights are in a more dire state than ever before, with things having seemingly gotten only worse for them since the 1980s, and it's likely Hank didn't expect this level of hatred from normal civilians.

I have, unfortunately, run out of images, so I'll be posting the last of this issue and my final thoughts and predictions in another post.

[vidavalor]

Muriel and My Fair Lady

We've been talking a bit about The Maltese Falcon and North by Northwest and other film homages in the series and how what a bunch of them have in common is unique use of language-- verbal and visual-- to tell their story. There's another musical/film that I think S2 is referencing a bit that is all about language and that is My Fair Lady.

The romance in My Fair Lady is terrible-- I hope we all can agree on that in our modern era lol-- but that's not really the main aspect of the story that is being referenced in GO, I don't think. My Fair Lady is full of language jokes, including the titles of two of the songs-- "A Hymm to Him", which plays with homophony, and "The Ascot Gavotte", which is about the horse race setting of that part of the story-- The Ascots-- but is, additionally, a joke on the fact that an ascot is also a term for one kind of a secret language. It's also the only real gavotte in a famous musical and we know that's Aziraphale's favorite kind of dance. Much of the story of the film also leads towards a ball at an embassy-- though one that goes a bit better than S2's disaster of a party.

In S2, Crowley and Aziraphale are kind of a more likable version of Higgins and Pickering as Muriel becomes a bit of an Eliza Doolittle. I think the "cupperty" scene is something of a nod to the scene in which Higgins tries to get Eliza to pronounce "cup of tea" differently in My Fair Lady.

Additionally, later in the season, Muriel wants to try breakfast and gets rebuffed, which is kind of like how Higgins and Pickering don't think to give Eliza some of their afternoon tea. Eliza ends up looking at the tea, which is actually Muriel's preference when they first arrive in S2.

My Fair Lady is about a phonetics professor who places a bet with his friend as to whether or not he can change the speech patterns of a Cockney-accented woman enough to pass her off as a duchess at an embassy ball. It's overflowing with linguistics jokes. Eliza agrees to try to undergo this change because she has her own aspiration-- she wants to work in a flower shop.

At the start of the film, she is homeless and selling flowers on the street. She lacks the social refinement necessary to be hired as a shopkeeper-- kind of like how Muriel is on the outside looking in on the Whickber Street shops in S2. Being able to work in a flower shop would give her a new lease on life and when Muriel is in the street on the night of The Meeting Ball, look at the flower market lit up behind them when a kinder and far more likable version of Professor Higgins-- the wordplay-happy Crowley-- approaches:

Unlike Eliza, who wished to sell flowers, Muriel loves books and, at the end of S2, Muriel is the one who winds up running the bookshop... which is a far better ending than Eliza Doolittle gets in My Fair Lady, if you ask me. (She should have gotten a job and married Freddy, dammit. Bonus points to Good Omens as well for recognizing that the real ship in My Fair Lady is Higgins & Pickering.)

Poor Crowley's also kind of a version of Freddy in S2, just with the romance not being with Muriel but the Muriel-paralleling Aziraphale. Madly in love and thrown over at the end for a grumpy old man-- despite being a total dish, a total gentleman, and having the best song in the film. (Not really in the long run but, ya know, kinda lol.) There's even a version of Freddy's gorgeous song by Crowley's favorite, Nat King Cole.

Can you hear a lark in any other part of town? Does enchantment pour out of every door? No, it's just on the street where you live...

[isabelleneville]

@perioddramasource: PERIOD DRAMA APPRECIATION WEEK

Day Seven: Free Day ~ Favourite Period Drama Actress - NATALIE DORMER

Selected Filmography:

Casanova - Victoria Donato

The Tudors - Anne Boleyn, Marquess of Pembroke, later, Queen of England

Agatha Christie's Marple - Moira Nicholson

W.E. - Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon, Duchess of York, later, Queen of England

Rush - Gemma

The Scandalous Lady W - Seymour Worsley, Lady Worsley,

Picnic at the Hanging Rock - Hester Appleyard

The Professor and the Madman - Eliza Merrett

Penny Dreadful: City of Angels - Magda, pictured as one of her aliases Elsa Branson

[charmspoint]

Sanguine Friday 3

This friday is for the second protagonist and the love interets, Duchess Eliza.

Beautiful art once again done by @lilleeboi (keep an eye out because there will be an updated version :3)

Name: Elizabeth

Gender: Cisgender woman

Pronouns: She/her

Age: 118yrs

Height: 204cm

Orientation: Aromantic Bisexual

Affiliation: Goddess Lurza and the vampire faction

Belief faction: The worshipers of the Unwillting Rose

Personality: Eliza has a condescending, confident nature of a predator sure of their strength. Once a high-class lady, now a sharp toothed monster, Eliza wishes for nothing more than to be seen as she once was. Beautiful, elegant, worthy of admiration and awe. She carries herself with those assumptions and Lurza help those who may contradict them because Eliza is not of forgiving kind. The vampire world is one made of lies and illusions and Eliza is more than happy to play her part. She pays close attention to manners and etiquette even when doing the most monstrous deeds, as even the most gruesome acts must be prettied up and presented in the right way. This doesn’t make her any less of a vampire though. She nurtures a sadistic nature, a love to play with her prey much like a cat, toying with them until the moment she gets bored and devours what is left. When tables are turned and those of higher power start toying with her, fracturs in the mask appear. She has little patience for being talked down to, for her status being questioned or for being dismissed. Such irritations quickly lead to passive aggressiveness and, if uncurbed, vengeful violence. She is a pretty beast but she is still a beast when the chips are down. (Second) life long worshiper of Lurza, Eliza is pretty much a fanatic, hosting parties and sacrificial ceremonies in her goddess’ name. She spares little blood for these events, wanting to get the goddess attention and hoping to be blessed by her. The natural state of decay the vampires find themselves in distresses her greatly, and she hopes that with enough worship her goddess might look upon her kindly, return the beauty she once possessed and grant her eternal salvation from the curse. She cares little if any other vampire gets the same benefit. While seemingly heavily social in nature, Eliza is very much the kind of person who puts herself and her own well being first. In the end this world is a food chain and she is going to make sure she ends up on top of it.

Appearance: There is no such thing as too much. Eliza is a lady of fine society and that is visible in the way she dresses. Full ball gowns, plentiful jewellery and high heels to match are the order of the day. Her signature colors and red and black, with gold accents here and there to spruce up the ensemble. She is quite found of big, hanging earrings and detailed necklaces and collars as it’s incredibly base to show one’s neck in the presence of other vampires. The illusion magic she weaves over herself leaves her hair looking rich and thick and gives somewhat of a blush to her skin, but she is still incredibly pale as there must, after all, be a visible difference between a distinguished vampire and a lowly human. Her real form is something else entirely. Underneath the layers of magic, Eliza is a decrepit, sunken in monster, with sickly, pale pink skin collapsing in waves over her features. Her nails sharp as claws and teeth crooked and stained with blood. Her hair a lifeless mop upon her misshapen head. She considers it better for people to die than to walk away having seen her true form.

Interests: Dancing, music, fashion, gossip

Fears: Break ins, people seeing her true self

Habits and quirks: Sadistic and playful in her manner of speaking, she often talks down to people and ghosts over their opinions entirely if they don’t match hers. She loves great many things and marks each with a special pet name.

Goals: Advance her position in the vampire society and become recognized by her goddess

Lines in the sand: Eliza is the type to go with the flow of almost anything as long as it’s going in her favor. Trouble arises when her authority and class is questioned and when the fact that she’s a relatively low ranked vampire is brought up. Polite society can take a lot, but not mockery. Attempting to reveal, or even just seeing her true for on accident provokes untameable wrath.

Nightmare of the body: Like with all the vampires, Eliza’s observable body is an illusion. A magic trick designed specifically to counter the curse resting on their kind which leaves their bodies decaying. Eliza cannot make her peace with it. She despises her real body and puts extra efforts in always maintaining her illusion, often fiddling with the little details of it. She will wear it socially, but also privately, only breaking effort to keep up the magic when she is absolutely sure nobody will see her for a good amount of time. And even then, she avoids mirrors like a plague and tries not to perceive the way her body looks. Accepting her body the way it is seems like a completely impossible task and one she would rather die than undertake.

[wardrobeoftime]

Master Post - A to M

If you notice any show, movie or character missing that I’ve made gifs of, please let me know. Characters are sorted alphabetically by first their last name and then their first name.

Last updated: November 21st, 2024

A

Aladdin [2019] (Princess Jasmine)

Allerleirauh (Princess Friederike | Princess Lotte)

American Song Contest (2022)

Aschenputtel [2010] (Marie/Aschenputtel)

Aschenputtel [2011] (Annabella | Aschenputtel/Cinderella)

Australia [2008] (Sarah Ashley)

B

Barbie (Stereotypical Barbie)

Beauty and the Beast [2017] (Madame de Garderobe | Mrs Potts)

Becoming Elizabeth (Amy Robsart | Mary Tudor)

Blood, Sex & Royalty (Anne Boleyn | Mary Boleyn)

Bridgerton (Tilley Arnold | Lady Berbrooke | Benedict Bridgerton | Daphne Bridgerton | Eloise Bridgerton | Francesca Bridgerton | Hyacinth Bridgerton | Violet Bridgerton | Queen Charlotte | Cressida Cowper | Agatha Danbury | Penelope Featherington | Philippa Featherington | Prudence Featherington | King George III | Siena Rosso | Edwina Sharma | Kathani "Kate" Sharma | Mary Sharma | Tessa | Marina Thompson | Extras)

Britain’s Bloody Crown (Margaret of Anjou | Margaret Beaufort | Elizabeth Woodville)

C

Cinderella [2015] (Anastasia Tremaine | Drisella Tremaine | Ella)

D

Das Adlon (Sonja Schadt)

Die Galoschen des Glücks (Princess Aurora)

Die Kaiserin (Maria Alexandrovna / Marie of Hesse | Elisabeth “Sisi” of Austria | Archduchess Sophie of Austria)

Die Salzprinzessin (Princess Amélie | Princess Eugenia | Princess Isabella)

Die Schöne und das Biest (Elsa)

Disney Live Action (see the individual movies | Extras)

Doctor Who (Ashildr | Cyril Arwell | Lily Arwell | Madge Arwell | Reg Arwell | Rosanna Calvierri | Miss Chandrakala | Agatha Christie | Hugh Curbishley | The Doctor | Twelth Doctor | Clemency Eddison | Jack Harkness | King James I | Katherine | Donna Noble | Madame de Pompadour | Amy Pond | Bill Potts | Robina Redmond | Becka Savage | Willa Twiston | Extras)

Domina (Agrippa | Antonia Major | Antonia “Antonina” Minor | Emperor Augustus | Julia the Elder | Livia Drusilla | Marcella | Octavia Minor)

Downton Abbey (Lucy Branson (née Smith) | Cora Crawley | Edith Crawley | Mary Crawley)

Dune: Prophecy (Ynez Corrino)

Dynasty [2017] (Kirby Anders | Fallon Carrington)

E

Effie Gray [2014] (Euphemia “Effie” Gray)

Elizabeth Duology (Elizabeth I)

Emerald City (Langwidere of Ev)

Emma [2020] (Isabella Knightley | Emma Woodhouse)

Eurovision Song Contest (1970 | 1974 | 1979 | 1980 | 1982 | 1988 | 1991 | 1992 | 1993 | 1995 | 1996 | 1998 | 2003 | 2004 | 2005 | 2006 | 2007 | 2008 | 2009 | 2010 | 2011 | 2012 | 2013 | 2014 | 2015 | 2016 | 2017 | 2018 | 2019 | 2021 | 2022 | 2023 | 2024)

F

Frauen, die Geschichte machten (Catherine the Great)

G

Galavant (Madalena)

Game of Thrones (Myrcella Baratheon | Cersei Lannister | Ellaria Sand | Sansa Stark | Daenerys Targaryen | Margaery Tyrell)

Good Omens (Aziraphale | Crowley)

Grey’s Anatomy (Lexie Grey | Izzie Stevens)

H

Hamilton (Angelica Schuyler | Eliza Schuyler Hamilton)

House of the Dragon (Jeyne Arryn | Alicent Hightower | Mysaria of Lys | Aegon II Targaryen | Baela Targaryen | Helaena Targaryen | Rhaena Targaryen | Rhaenyra Targaryen | Rhaenys Targaryen | Laena Velaryon)

I

J

K

Ku’damm (Helga von Boost)

L

Legacies (Jo Laughlin | Hope Mikaelson | Elizabeth “Lizzie” Saltzman | Josette “Josie” Saltzman)

Les Misérables [2018] (Cosette | Fantine Thibault)

Little Women [2019] (Amy March | Margaret “Meg” March)

Ludwig II [2012] (Elisabeth “Sisi” of Austria | Ludovika, The Duchess in Bavaria | Sophie in Bavaria)

M

Maleficent Duology (Princess Aurora | Queen Ingrith of Ulstead)

Märchenperlen (see the individual movies)

Maria Theresia [2017] (Maria Anna of Austria | Empress Maria Theresia |  Mademoiselle de Chartres | Elisa Fritz)

Marie Antoinette [2006] (Marie Antoinette | Empress Maria Theresia | Marie Thérèse Louise of Savoy, Princesse de Lamballe | Extras)

Marie Antoinette [2022] (Marie Antoinette)

Mary Queen of Scots [2013] (Mary Stuart)

Maximilian - Das Spiel von Macht und Liebe / Maximilian and Marie de Burgogne (Mary of Burgundy)

My Fair Lady (Eliza Doolittle)

My Lady Jane (Jane Grey)

Go to N-Z

[writingquestionsanswered]

Any tips on how to write a historical fiction? Like working out the historical placement, economy and the political state of the country, the situation of royalty etc. Love your blog!

Historical Fiction vs Other Historical Subgenres

I wonder if you're meaning to ask about writing "historical fantasy" or "alternate history" rather than historical fiction. Here's why...

Historical fiction is set in a real place, in a real, recognizable time in our history. For example, Melissa de la Cruz's Alex & Eliza follows the lives and marriage of Alexander Hamilton and Elizabeth Schuyler, real U.S. historical figures who were featured in the recently popular musical, Hamilton. If you want to write historical fiction, fleshing out your setting's economy, political state, situation of royalty, etc. is a matter of researching your setting in that particular time. My post Researching an Historical Topic has some pointers that should help with that kind of research.

Historical fantasy can be one of two things: typically, historical fantasy refers to stories set in a real place and time in our history, but with the incorporation of fantastical elements, such as in Marie Lu's The Kingdom of Back which is set in 18th-century Europe and follows Mozart's older sister, who gets involved with a stranger from a magical realm who promises to make her musical dreams come true. Historical fantasy can also be set in a fictional place that heavily resembles a real historical time and place and incorporates magic, but since the emphasis is as much on the historical feel of the story as on the fantastical elements, it's historical fantasy rather than just fantasy. Here, too, fleshing out your setting will come down to doing research, then making your own decisions about how to plausibly differentiate your imaginary setting. You may find it easier to do this after you've fleshed out your plot and understand the needs of your story.

Alternate history imagines a historical place and time in our world but with a major difference, like what if the Titanic sailed through a time portal into 1970s New York. Or, what life in 1920s Los Angeles would have been like if the U.S. had lost the Revolutionary War and the king and queen had come to visit some of their American Dukes and Duchesses. Fleshing out an alternate history setting will require research of the real time and location as well as some educated brainstorming about how things would be different.

Fantasy stories are sometimes set in settings or worlds loosely or somewhat heavily based on our own. In Leigh Bardugo's Grishaverse, Ravka is loosely based on early 1800s Russia, and in George R.R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire, Westeros is loosely based on early-medieval Britain. However, because the emphasis is more on the fantastical elements than the historical similarities, these stories are straight up fantasy rather than historical fantasy. Much as with the other examples, here fleshing out your setting requires research of your inspiration setting as well as brainstorming to determine what you want to change.

Let me know if you have questions about whichever specific one you want to write!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

[royaltyposts]

Royal Ascot 2024

Queen Consort, Camilla

Sophie, Duchess of Edinburgh

Lady Gabriella Kingston

Mr. and Mrs. Middleton

Princess Eugenie

Eliza and Amelia Spencer

King Charles

Zara Phillips & Princess Anne

[froppy-butterflyfan2000]

The Nightmare and its after effect/The daughterly, yet feral gem: Take place in November and December, after the summer months of the adventures in Camp Synonymous, The Bishops are doing their monthly meeting together at Camp Synonymous Island on November, where they learns more about gems, for the betterment of the community of Townsville for Mayor Blossom and the representation of managing gems’ affairs in the city Blossom selected and their own. On December, someone suffers a nightmare of his past and one event affects a certain gem, changing her life forever.

Warning: Please be advise, you are reading this story that contain spoilers of Neighbour. You can ignore this and wait for Volume 1 and 2 of the Cappyverse main storylines, The Neighbors to come. Or just read it and keep this informations to yourself and not share with others. You have been warned.

Damon Drakken, Nebula Butterfly-Lucitor (mentioned), Sandra Stoppable, Travis Mystery, Olivia Carbunkle (mentioned), Nicholas X (mentioned), Ethan Corduroy (mentioned), and Lucas Harper (mentioned) belong to @ej-cappy-universe.

Morgan Morningstar (mentioned), Rebecca Batson, and Eliza Hardy (mentioned) belongs to @aprilbrowines.

Serenity Universe (mentioned), Misty Universe, Anty Diamond, and Calypso Charleston (mentioned) belong to @cooltmoney95.

Leona Torasdottir-da Costa (mentioned), Kingsleigh Braddock (mentioned), Marianne of Domino (mentioned), Clark Christopher Jones (mentioned), Leonidas (mentioned), Eugenia Maximoff, Duchess, Hibonite, Dougal Cauldronello-Valentines (mentioned), and Janaya A. Bloodworth-Thomason (mentioned) belong to @froppy-butterflyfan2000 (me).

Javelin (mentioned) belongs to @hotsassbacon.

The concept of radioactive gems belongs to @dangerpack.