#Edmund Gilbert

[diioonysus]

objects in art: swords/daggers

[jadehuntressqueen]

Sing For Me

Warnings: hospitals, implied death

Masterlist

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Coughs wracked your frail body as you lay on the stiff hospital bed. The monitor beeped pitifully in the background. A comforting thumb rubbed along your hand. You knew that he was more afraid than you. You wouldn’t have to miss anyone when you were gone. He on the other hand would feel your absence in every moment of life.

“You need to rest,” he murmured when your coughing subsided.

A tear trickled down your cheek. “I don’t want you to be alone.”

A wobbling smile crept onto his face. “I’ll be okay, you won’t hurt anymore so I can be okay with it.”

“Sing for me.”

He cleared his throat and sat up straighter. Pulling his chair closer to the side of your bed he began.

“But you’ll never be alone, I’ll be with you from dusk till dawn. I'll be with you from dusk till dawn. Baby, I'm right here,” Your eyes fell shut.

“I'll hold you when things go wrong,” his voice broke, “I'll be with you from dusk till dawn. I'll be with you from dusk till dawn.”

A shallow breath crept past your lips as a tear splashed onto the tiled floor. “Baby, I'm right here.”

[prince-jelli-fish]

back at it again

[needsmth]

When you're having a bad day but then you remember these types of men might exist in the world just for you:

Aka when they all lived in a different and much older era than you and would probably be dust in this day and age >>>>>>>>>>>>>

[grusinskayas]

Greta Garbo and John Gilbert in Love (1927) dir. Edmund Goulding

[violasgamingpalace]

Oh my god, Marianne 3Houses cannot have any children in any of her paired endings at all, even with characters that normally have children mentioned...

Transgender? transgender Marianne canon? Marianne confirmed to be transgender...?

[bethanydelleman]

So I read Jane Eyre after I watched a confusing adaptation (2011, I literally never figured out who Adele was), and hearing a lot about it from friends. I expected to hate Rochester. I also expected to hate the final ship.

and I DID hate Rochester! He was such a jerk! The chapter where he proposes was awful. Why is he making her believe he’s going to marry Blanche if he’s in love with Jane? What is wrong with this man?!?

But then I met St. John Rivers and I was so extremely and totally creeped out that I honestly thought: 

BRING ME BACK THE BIGAMIST

Cheered when she went back to find Rochester and then married him. Did not hate the final ship at all.

So I guess my assessment of men is mediated by the goodness of other men within book? Maybe I like Henry Crawford of Mansfield Park because the Bertrams suck so much? Maybe I like Gilbert Markham because the other men in Tenant are the bottom of the barrel? Like the scum under the bottom of the barrel or the bugs hiding under the barrel...

I don’t know. I try to be objective. But then I think the point of Mansfield Park is that you start to root for Henry and Fanny, or at least for Henry to be better. If I believe Gilbert is as bad as Arthur, than the ending of Tenant is just so freaking depressing. I guess I’m accepting the world the author built, she tells me Gilbert is essentially a good guy who messed up but is capable of growth, I’m in.

But I guess who is really objective anyway? As much as I true to use quotes and sources, are we not all half running on vibes?

[anapotatowriter]

Beta reader

Heyyo guys! 

So, I was going through some of my work and realised that my characterisations aren’t indepth enough, or the story hasn’t developed naturally, or many other such small problems that are difficulcut for me to see when writing something. I was wondering if anyone would like to beta read for me? If yes, please send me a private message!

Thank you so much! 

[vidcundcuriousgoth]

Guess who got a child who shouldn’t have a child?

Anyway Gilbert and Chasitity really shouldn’t have children at all

[whats-in-a-sentence]

Eliott's victory was celebrated in Maryborough with eating, drinking and doggerel:

The Speaker is the foremost man of Queensland's wide domain—

Our votes thus high exalted him and gave him place and gain.

So we resolved to dine with him. Sixteen his table graced.

Of blood were all our chiefs (though with their arms defaced.)

Dread Blucher Uhr our chairman was, who keeps the Boiling Down.

For hides and fat tongues, lard, and pork, almighty his renown . . .

Substantial were the eatables which on the board were seen;

Our beef was rare—and, oh! ye gods, 'twas painted sable green;

A goose with onions stuffed, and sage (the oldest of the town);

Pork chops and bullock liver, all fresh from the Boiling Down . . .

And so with song and sentiment, we made the feast go down;

We drank "Success to squatters," then "Perdition to the town;"

"Confusion to all democrats," "Gags for the bold and free;"

"Our stations into freeholds may they quickly changed be."

"Killing for Country: A Family History" - David Marr

[sweet-vanilla-sims]

1500-1599 Recap Part 39:

Margery became an elder then died the same day. 

Anthony and Wren had another son who also died. All the toddlers in the family were adorable. 

Edmund, Francis’s son died shortly after his birthday though. 

[dweemeister]

This was the first MGM shot in synchronized sound; the studio was one of the last in Hollywood to adopt sound as the silent era neared its end.

‘Advertised as Greta Garbo and John Gilbert in 'Love’ (who were dating at the time).’ Love (1927) Dir: Edmund Goulding

[s-soulwriter]

Masc. victorian names for your book

Augustus: Meaning "majestic" or "venerable," this name reflects the grandeur and dignity associated with the Victorian era.

Clement: Derived from the Latin word "clemens," meaning "gentle" or "merciful," it represents virtues valued during the Victorian era.

Leopold: Of German origin, meaning "bold people," this name has a regal and strong connotation.

Ambrose: A name of Greek origin meaning "immortal," it suggests enduring qualities and perhaps a touch of the romantic.

Percival: With Arthurian legend ties, this name means "piercing the valley" or "pierce the vale," signifying a sense of adventure and nobility.

Thaddeus: Of Aramaic origin, meaning "heart" or "courageous," it reflects qualities admired in Victorian times.

Archibald: Of Germanic origin, meaning "genuine" or "bold," this name conveys strength and authenticity.

Edmund: Derived from Old English, meaning "wealthy protector," it embodies the Victorian emphasis on familial and societal values.

Reginald: Meaning "counsel power" in Old German, this name suggests wisdom and authority.

Gilbert: Of Germanic origin, meaning "bright pledge" or "shining pledge," it carries a sense of loyalty and promise.

Montgomery: Derived from Norman French, meaning "Gumarich's mountain," it has an aristocratic and sophisticated feel.

Humphrey: Of Germanic origin, meaning "peaceful warrior," it combines strength with a sense of peace.

Alfred: Of Old English origin, meaning "elf counsel" or "wise counselor," it reflects the Victorian admiration for wisdom and guidance.

Rupert: Of Germanic origin, meaning "bright fame," it suggests a sense of distinction and honor.

Lancelot: With Arthurian legend associations, this name means "servant" or "attendant," representing loyalty and chivalry.

Ephraim: Of Hebrew origin, meaning "fruitful" or "productive," it embodies prosperity and abundance.

Barnabas: Of Aramaic origin, meaning "son of consolation" or "son of encouragement," it conveys a nurturing and supportive nature.

Horatio: Of Latin origin, meaning "timekeeper" or "hour," it reflects a sense of order and discipline.

Clarence: Of Latin origin, meaning "bright" or "clear," it suggests clarity and distinction.

Winston: Of Old English origin, meaning "wine's town" or "joy stone," it combines elements of conviviality and strength.

[mschievousx]

now and then | b.b.

pairing: benedict bridgerton x ofc, anthony bridgerton x ofc (platonic)

summary: loraine silva always knew she was not normal. she loves unusual things. she loves her father's guns, horses, boxing, climbing a tree, falling from a tree, engineering, astronomy... oh, and a man eleven years older.

series masterlist

viii. eight: it was over

"save me!"

the young silva exclaimed with worry in her voice. funny, actually, how their game of house turned into an action-themed drama—much like this story.

nevertheless, gregory came running towards her as hyacinth and benedict start to seemingly attack the young girl.

"here i am, princess!" the boy exclaimed, raising his wooden sword and pointing it to the enemies.

hyacinth turned to him and raised her hands, the cloak falling from her shoulders, "i am the witch!"

raine tried her best not to laugh at the expressions of the children, utterly invested in their roles. benedict neared her, gaining gregory's attention and bolting to them to save her.

their play, however, was interrupted when major thorpe walked to them and called for the silva, "my lady."

she raised her head and turned to him. gilbert was not an emotional one, but his voice currently carried urgency. she excused herself from the children as she walked to him. the major did not say anything else and simply turned. benedict did not understand, really, why his feet felt the need to follow them.

they arrived at the back of the bridgerton's house, a man waiting who seemed to have jumped over the wall. he was covered, cloaked as if in disguise. the man turned to her with noticeable deep scratches and wounds.

"raphael?" she called with disbelief, clasping her hands together as she immediately went to hug him—lightly so as to avoid the wounds.

at the sight of her, the colonel let out a sound that could be mistake as a sob as he took the young girl's face on his palms, "raine, i am so so sorry."

she looked up at him from the hug, as if to read his eyes, and she did not need to hear whatever he was going to say to know what has happened. she shut her eyes closed and pulled away, placing her own palms to cover her face.

raphael put his hand inside his coat, getting the letter that was written by her father. he brushed her hair as he passed the paper.

with palms already a bit wet, she took the letter begrudgingly, already knowing its contents. raine opened it just as benedict neared her, placing a hand on her shoulder. his eyes were at her to maintain the privacy of the letter.

my dear daughter,

well, it is fucking unfortunate, isn't it? i apologise if the only thing that will return to you after all this time is this letter. i am sorry this is what our family has become. perhaps, i should have taken notes from edmund and had eight children as well. this way, you would not be alone right now.

tragic, really. my chest hurts like hell and my shoulder numb. your mother and brother has been calling for me. i am afraid i must answer to them. raphael will tell you everything. hopefully, i have trained him best, enough at the very least, to not die in the process. oh, i really hope he is not as stupid to die without ensuring you receive this letter. what else can i say? you already know i love you more than anything. make a concerto for me too. i do not want that calmness you did for your mother, or that hopefulness for your brother. i want mine to sound cruel and pure of malice. i want mine to sound like a declaration of war—a symbol of spite even in my grave.

know that you can do this. this is not the end but its beginning.

káne ton thánato perífano na mas párei.

your handsome father,

armand silva

raine shut her eyes closed once again, hugging the letter on her chest as her lips whimpered, "please, no..."

her legs gave out in hopelessness as benedict's touch tightened to her at once, holding her close to him as he keep her up. maybe home is nothing but two arms holding you tight when you are at your worst.

"let us go inside. the children must not see this." the bridgerton said, guiding her towards the home as the two men followed.

━━━ ✦ ❘ ☽ 【❖】 ☾ ❘ ✦ ━━━

they stepped in through the back door, passing the drawing room in the process. anthony and kate stopped their conversation just as violet raised her head from her tea, standing up at once at the state of the four.

"loraine? what is happening?" she questioned in concern, not sure to walk to her or not as she was being assisted by her son.

anthony and kate stood as well in alarm. the viscount caught sight of raphael and understood what this could be about. he dodged the furnitures in the way as he led them, "to my study."

everyone in the room followed suit with heavy steps as they crossed the hall. now crowding anthony's study, benedict let her sit on the couch, providing her his handkerchief as well.

raphael sat on another chair at the side while the rest remained standing in anticipation and worry. anthony sat on the edge of his table, arms crossed while lightly biting his lips.

raine let out a heavy sigh, trying her best not to let her voice break, "father has passed."

anthong uncrossed his arms, placing his right palm on his forehead, his head casted down in defeat.

"god..." violet muttered in sorrow, closing her eyes as well as kate neared the woman, both supporting each other. they were aching for the girl in front of them.

as she opened her eyes again, her gaze landed on the wounded man this time. she spoke in a solemn manner, "does the guest need to rest for the moment?"

"no, lady bridgerton. thank you," he replied, sitting up from his leaning as he interlaced his fingers in seriousness, "but i must relay the current circumstances to the lady as soon as possible."

he did not continue as if waiting for loraine's permission that it was alright to divulge such information in the presence of other people. the young silva nodded absentmindedly, staring into nothing.

raphael understood what she meant and inhaled deeply, revealing the causes of it all, "general has discovered an anomaly in the communications and reports across brigades and regiments six months ago.someone has been tampering and altering the papers, giving false reports and causing miscommunication. just before we returned here for your debut, two battalions fought each other, unaware of their british ancestry."

he turned to address the silva solely, "that is what your father has been working on, believing that we may get hints here in central london."

she thought back on the moments her father was almost not present, missing events and time with her. she even ranted about it without even knowing the gravity of her father's duties. she wanted to slap her past self.

"and we did." the colonel continued, "on the day our carriage was attacked when we were going to the ball," he paused, clicking his tongue with hate in his following words.

"i would never miss the shine of the british insignia."

raine, for the nth time of the day, shut her eyes closed at the information. realising the gravity of the situation, she could not help but mutter in pessimism just what the people in the room were thinking as well.

"fuck."

anthony, as the viscount of the house, interjected, "if that is the case, you both have to stay here."

raphael stood up, turning to the man with respect, "lord bridgerton, i appreciate the thought but we cannot. our presence here right now endangers your family already."

he was not wrong about that at all, but the other was adamant on ensuring their safety, "the family is acquainted to the queen and close to her confidant. we do not know if the queen is involved or not, but at the very least, that will offer even the slightest protection than being out at all."

"anthony..." raine called, unsure what to say next. she would like that, in all honesty, as this was the only other home she ever knew. but, she also would not like to put them all at risk.

he turned to her reassuringly, "there is nothing to worry about. people will not bat an eye in you staying here longer as you have always did, and raphael will simply not let people catch a glimpse of him." he looked at the wounded man with no offense, "which i assume must be easy for a colonel."

raine nodded at anthony's plan, accepting it as raphael conceded as well, following whatever sound decision the daughter of his superior would make.

the girl raised her eyes to the dowager in pure shame of their temporary solution, "i apologise, violet."

the matriarch neared her on the couch as she placed a hand on her back and her chin on top of the girl's head, hugging her for what little comfort she could offer.

━━━ ✦ ❘ ☽ 【❖】 ☾ ❘ ✦ ━━━

loraine was no stranger to staying up late and deep into the night. she has always loved it, and the joy that the silence would bring her was comforting.

now, although void of joy, she still looks for the same comfort under the same sky.

"do you need anything?" benedict entered the drawing room, sitting across the lady so as to not disturb her peace—if she had any left.

raine sneered weakly, "aside from my family? nothing."

"anthony told me." he began, his guilt starting to show, "i am really sorry i was not there with you at the ball."

she did not reply immediately. in fact, she did not reply at all. she was not petty. she understood that it was not an obligation for him to be there at that moment. and so, she settled with a nod for acknowledgement.

"do you want to talk about it right now?" he continued to ask, wanting whatever it is between them to disappear so that the young lady would have less on her plate.

"you do not have anything to be sorry for." she replied in a very exhausted voice, wanting everything to be just done with.

benedict chose to explain his side nonetheless, "i was with lady arnold. we—"

"i know." she interjected pointedly without intending to sound bitter.

"no. not like that." he defended with a sigh, "we met at the hawkins balloon, and she was a follower of the sciences you were enjoying."

it was lost between them—whatever they are now. they were not each other's, but they could not deny the feeling of possession.

"i met her at the ball again and mr. cooper joined us after a while. they were teaching me about their stuff... just like you have always done in the past."

she did not want to care. she should not have cared at all, yet she replied, "what about?"

he smiled at her inquiry, taking it as a sign of even her slightest regard for him, "i could not bother to listen to them."

raine did not know what to say. even in this time, he could make her feel something other than pain. however, the exhaustion is too much, pounding whatever warmness she might have felt. he was exhausting—the push and pull he was doing.

"i would like to be by myself, please."

benedict opened his mouth, likely to insist he stay, but he closed it as he casted his eyes downwards. he exhaled and nodded resignedly, pushing himself up from the chair, looking at her last before turning to leave.

"good night."

she just wants to go home, but nothing feels like home anymore. so, no later, she stood as well and made her way to the piano. in the dead of night, she was thankful for the moonlight as she sat in front of the instrument.

there is something big coming—bigger than love, bigger than loneliness.

in the midst of despair, she decided to write the piece her father wanted and she's staying up all night for it. she has thought for it to sound like mozart's lacrimosa but went against it in an instant. lacrimosa was weeping, mournful even. but her father? she was certain armand did not shed a single tear against his fate. he would have gritted his teeth and spat the blood on the fate's face.

and so, she slammed her fingers on the keys, note per note, octave per octave. while the tune was full of hurt, it was not the type that would make you curl in bed. it was the kind that would make you stand and run... faster, faster than you ever can.

for what is hurt but the prelude to rage. and once the pain goes away, the real battle starts.

taglist: @aadu2173 @imgondeletedis @pumkiinpasties @rebleforkicks @perseny @everavenclaw @datingbtr @peetahpahkah @omy0

[needsmth]

If you're into the loverboy type and love these songs at the same time >>>>>>>>>>>

[grusinskayas]

Love (1927) dir. Edmund Goulding