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loverslodge · 17 days ago

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his number one wife

summery: your marriage to Ransom was supposed to business

pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

warning: slight angst, fluff, SMUT, swearing, arranged marriage au

A/N: finally got my grubby hands on Ransom. this baby better use his trust fund to feed me more in the future.

“But wasn't he married to someone else three years ago?”

You have been questioning your parents’ decision for over a week. Which means you questioned them immediately as they revealed their plan.

You are supposed to marry Hugh Ransom Drysdale next week. You both ran in the same circle, kind of. He was almost 10 years older than you. You had heard of his 3 failed marriages. One was his ex was just a plain bimbo while the other was an actual gold-digger. The third wife was just a cheater which they showed as an open relationship. The fourth divorce came as a surprise to you by your parents. They told you he is officially single since last month and you were wife number 5.

Harlan Thrombey was pissed at Ransom because he married these women just to piss Harlan off. Harlan wanted Ransom to do better so he could take over Blood like Wine under his supervision but with all these marriages and divorces, Ransom was losing his essence. Harlan had heard about his friend’s daughter, Y/N, who was an editor in a big publishing company, rival, sure, but an asset nonetheless.

Harlan had sorted his will, finally. He planned on giving everything to Marta right after Ransom’s last divorce but when he caught a waft your diligence, Harlan thought you were the answer to all the prayers. He had been closely observing you for a while before approaching your family with the preposition. He saw your reluctance and so he struck the deal up with something you cannot refuse and that is progress in life. Ransom had been wasting his life away and they were drifting apart. Harlan did not want that. He wanted Ransom to stay close to him. Unlike the rest of the family, Ransom did genuinely cared about Harlan. But Ransom needed a purpose in life and someone who could show him and support him. Harlan saw that in you. Harlan gave almost everything to you and Ransom leaving some things aside for Marta. But he needed to make sure that it didn't go over Ransom’s head. And that is why he added conditions to it.

Harlan had found out about the financial need your family had and to help out, he asked your hand in marriage for Ransom. He could only convince Ransom for this marriage by blackmailing him into it. He put a condition that he can only take over his legacy by marrying you for more than 3 years. He knew three years was a lot but that was the only way he could think of making Ransom stick to a sensible person.

Ransom had heard of you. Same circle and all. You were exactly the type Harlan was pushing for. Harlan was always on his back and he knew it was for his own good but damn living in a fucked up family and fucked up his brain. Ransom remembered seeing you in one of the fundraisers. You were dressed in a simple black long dress with a diamond brooch tucked on your bosom. Your makeup was light and your hair left in a loose bun. The only reason why Ransom remembers you is because you wore a red lipstick and he had jerked off to those lips that night. He wondered if you would wear that shade for the wedding.

……………….

It was officially your wedding day and you sat in your suite waiting to be called out. You didn't really have an option to say no. You had seen your family struggling financially and you got a call, directly from Harlan asking to meet.

When you met Harlan, he explained that Blood Like Wine needed a new owner and he wanted that to be you and Ransom. You had audibly scoffed at the idea but Harlan told you that if not, the publishing company would go to shit. You felt bad. You had read all about how Harlan started this company. You had ideas about starting your own but you had no capital. Harlan was giving you an open reign into doing whatever you wanted with the company and so you said yes. Not for Ransom but for the company. You were going to make it big.

You chose to wear a princess style wedding gown. You liked it. Fulfill your fantasy. Red roses adorned your hair and bouquet. Your hands were clammy. He was married to four different women before you. How were you supposed to compete with those? Especially as a virgin. Not that your virginity was an issue but Ransom was an experienced man with experienced ex wives. You definitely did not expect Ransom to go without sex for three years! You too would have wifely duties.

You heard your name called out and you shook your head. Maybe you'll get to talk to Ransom after the ceremony or after you reach his place, where you will live, with him. Your hands got clammy again and your breath started going short. Your walk down the aisle was a blur. For you, it took mere seconds to reach Ransom who was standing with his hands in his pockets, looking just as much of an asshole as he was. Your breath still shaky, you stood beside him, clutching onto the flowers with your dear life.

As soon as the doors opened, Ransom turned to see the lovely woman he was being forced to marry. When he saw you, his heart thudded so loud, he could swear everyone heard it. You looked like a cupcake, sure, that made me snicker but the closer you got, the more he could see you. He saw you shaking, breathing heavy and he saw you having a nervous breakdown in the middle of the aisle. He wanted to rush to her, hold her and tell her ‘it's fine’ but he would never, it didn't fit the Ransom brand. Just as you stood beside him, he shuffled closer to you subtly and held out his hand.

“Here, hold my hand and breath with me. I can get you out of here as soon as we are done with the ceremony.”

You instinctively go for his hand and intertwine your fingers with his. You thought his breath hitched but you ignored and focused on the preacher. You merged your breath with his and by the time you zoned into the scene, the preacher asked to exchange the rings. You remember the rings because Harlan had shown them to you. You put the ring on Ransom’s finger and he does the same to you. He kept holding your hand during the rest of the ceremony. But as soon as the preacher announced that it was time to kiss, your brain started to struggle.

“I’ll put my thumb on your lips and kiss that. I know you don't want this but it's not like we have any options. Okay?” Ransom situated himself to get closer to you and cupped your face. He placed his thumb delicately on your lips.

You nodded with wide eyes. His thumb on your lips was sending tingles down your body. He shook his head and pulled you closer. “Words, baby, I need your words. Okay?”

You gulped. “Okay.”

Just as the words slipped out of your mouth, he placed his lips on his thumb. But his lips met with the corner of yours and you gasped. This was not good. Feeling tingles and lips on you. You could hear the crowd cheer but your wide eyes met his deep blue ones. They were unreadable. You put your hands on his chest and slowly pushed him and he let go.

You and Ransom were soon dragged to a private room where Harlan was waiting with a lawyer. Ransom was keeping his hand around your waist the entire time you were in the room. It felt, in a way, possessive, but you did not want to overthink it. You signed the papers and so did Ransom. Harlan had talked to Ransom and promised him the publishing company with a lot of his fortune the day he got married.

It took Ransom by surprise when he found out that he wasn't the only one who got the publishing company but it was you as well. They were going to partners, co-owners and well, a married couple to take the company forward. When he heard Harlan tell you that he is excited to see the changes you talked about bringing into the company, it boiled his blood. This was supposed to be his sole legacy and not a shared one. It pissed him off but he controlled it, for now.

The wedding reception went on in full swing. The Thrombeys were busy getting drunk and insulting people. Ransom sighed at the sight and sipped from his tumbler. You were dragged away a few minutes ago to the honeymoon suite. Apparently, you had told Harlan that you and Ransom won't be going for a honeymoon and whatever is to happen will happen in that hotel for the weekend. Ransom just wanted to go back to his place but conditions were binding him.

Ransom wanted to ask you about your apparent panic attack but he held off. So much was going on and he figured it out during the contract signing that you hadn't known about the wedding two weeks before. He, however, had known about it for over 2 months. He was given a choice between you or a socialite who was way too much into charity. He had picked you. He had seen you around often and had heard about you enough to know that you weren't going to dupe him or Harlan out of money.

You were pacing in your suite. You had managed to detangle your styled hair but getting out of the dress was proving impossible. You couldn't find the damned zipper. You were very close to tearing your dress when the door unlocked. Ransom sauntered in and threw his coat on the chair.

“What?” he asked as he manspread himself on the couch.

“Can you, uh, please help me? Nobody would help me out of the dress. I, uh, can't find the zipper.” You hesitated. You walked closer to him and he got up with a sigh.

“Why the fuck would you wear such elaborate dress anyway? It's not like you wanted to get married to me.” Ransom zips down the dress, leaving you almost startled when the dress started falling off your naked breasts.

“I might not have been keen on marrying you but I was bound by the contract. Harlan insisted. I couldn't say no.” You waddled into the bathroom with a pair of shorts and loose t-shirt.

“Why would you agree to a contract? You are an individual woman, as I have heard from your ungrateful friends.” Ransom raised his voice so you could hear him in the bathroom.

“They are not my friends. I know them due to social reasons. I, uh, I have no friends. I am, what my parents, very lovingly like to call, a social pariah. I talk to all but get close to none.”

“Is this why Harlan gave you the publishing company instead of me?” Ransom slipped on his sleep shorts and started unbuttoning his shirt. You yank open the door and walk with your wedding dress, carefully hanging it in the closet.

“He did give you the publishing company.” You settle in the bed and bring the comforter over your legs. You did not expect the room to be this cold.

“No, he gave me the company because of you. You are the reason why I have the company and I do not like that. I wanted to be the only owner, not a co-owner. You are just like others, trying to steal my legacy.” Ransom, in all his half-naked glory, sat on the other side of the bed.

“Hey! I did not steal anything. If anything, it was Harlan who told me that if I do not agree to marry you, he will close the company for good. He asked me to take over with you, not the other way around. Get off your high horse Hugh, nobody likes you like that.” You turn around and slip in, trying to get some sleep.

“It’s Ransom, and you know it. Do not call me Hugh. you are my wife and not some help.” He yanked the comforter off of you.

“Whatever. I don't care. I have this weekend to figure out how to announce it to the rest of the office and how to get your pervert uncle off my back.” You yank the comforter back and go to sleep.

You calling Walt a pervert hit Ransom on the nerve. He did know Walt did not see kindly to women but to have his new bride call out his uncle right off the bat clicked something in him. But he was also not going to let you take all the credits alone. He would be damned if you did all the work alone and became the office favorite. He will pester you into sharing your ideas and he will make sure that Walt stays away from all of this.

………………….

You were honestly shocked when you reached Ransom’s place on Sunday evening that nothing happened between the two of you. You had heard Ransom to be a lady’s man, always flirting, always so good to get women in bed. Hell, you had witnessed him get two sisters to stop fighting over him and took them both to bed! But he did nothing to you. Nothing! Zero! Nada! Zilch! You have no idea why it affected you so much.

You shook your head and took in the room that Ransom had so nicely provided for you. He was very understanding about the fact you don't want to share a room. But you both did share an office. In and out of the house. He made space for your desk in the home office.

As soon as you arrived at his place, he made a beeline to his room, leaving you to explore the house alone. You soon found the home office with your desk and started setting up. You weren't used to the weekends off and so you immediately started looking at the manuscripts that had piled up because of Walt’s lack of interest. It was going to take some time to sort through the genres and copies but you weren't a quitter.

Ransom heard you type away in the home office. Your typing was aggressive. He got annoyed. He marched into the home office to see you deep into the piles of manuscripts that you had asked your assistant to bring. It irked Ransom. He was supposed to do this. He is supposed to be the big boss. So he walks to your desk and takes a pile.

“No! Not that one. I had just sorted through that! This one,” you point at the pile on your left. “Take this pile. This one needs to go through extensive work. I am busy reading this one and if you want to help, pick that.”

Ransom was taken aback. Instead of fighting him into letting you do all the work, you actually gave him the correct thing to focus on. He put the pile back and picked the one you pointed at. But, instead of working on them, he just placed them on the desk and stood in front of your desk.

“What do you want? I gave you the correct pile. Start working on it.”

“It's time for dinner. Come on. Come downstairs. Work tomorrow. You have been at it the entire weekend.” Ransom was trying to be polite. He never treated his previous wives this way. But in all honesty, his previous wives were not worker bees. All they wanted from Ransom was money and he did do that. He wasted away his life and money on them but you weren't like that. Ransom noticed. He liked it. You made him be what he had always wanted to be. But he wasn't going to let you know that.

“I'm not hungry. Maybe next time.” You said without lifting your head.

Ransom scoffed and left. He didn't disturb you the rest of the night. But he did have his housekeeper send you some food. He wasn't heartless. He wouldn't want his partner to die without telling him what she had been up to.

………………….

Mondays were hell. Mondays should not exist. You drag yourself out of bed after pulling an almost all nighter. You had gone to bed at 3:30 am and the sleep didn't come to you for almost an hour because you were not used to the new space. You went to the bathroom next to your room and undress. You turned on the shower and step in to let it wash the exhaustion off of you.

Ransom woke up earlier than he used to. He looked at the clock that glared at him at 7:00 am. He sighed and rose to go to the bathroom to shower. He spent the entire night pacing his room and thinking about how he would ask you to step down so he could take over. He did not like how you just took over without a complaint or thought. You were stepping on his legacy. He walked in the bathroom and opened the shower curtain, only to see you, very naked and very wet.

Ransom could not take his eyes off of you. You had been making him horny but seeing your body, it excelled it all. He saw your curves and the way the water was dripping from your breasts to your core, he pictured a hundred things all at once. He just wanted to slip into the shower with you and have his way. He wanted to touch your curves, caress your curves, hold on to you and pull his name, that you refused to say, out of your pink puffed lips.

“What the fuck! Get out! Do you not have a bathroom in your room?” You shut the curtain and peak your head out from a gap you made. You are very embarrassed but somehow, not angry.

You were not the most confident woman when it came to her body. You saw your body as a bunch of fat pouches. So, when Ransom saw your naked body, you thought he would find you unattractive. He was perfect but you were not. His ex wives were perfect but you were not. You never thought of trying to please Ransom but after this, you wanted him to see you for your brain and not your pudgy body.

“My shower has been broken. The repairman will be coming today. I thought nobody would have woken up this early! Why are you here?” Ransom surprised himself when he turned around to give her privacy. He could hear a waver in her voice but still not his name.

“Oh! Well, you are one of those people who dont wake up early. Harlan told me you wake up at 10. And secondly, I don't have a bathroom in my room. This is the one where i put my things. Now, please, get out. I need to get out of the shower and I'm cold.”

Ransom sees your towel hanging near him so he takes it and tosses it over his shoulder towards you without turning. He hears a squeak coming from you and some scrambling till he feels your body heat near him. You weren't touching him but he felt you. Your breath directly on his shirtless back. He could see you in the mirror. He saw you adjusting the towel around you and your lips puffing out air. He just wanted to turn around and crash his mouth on yours.

You push your way out of the bathroom and run into your room, leaving Ransom in the bathroom with a hard on.

…………………..

Walt needs to mind his own business which is finding a new job. You were tired of him sitting in front of you. He kept on eyeing you in a way that made you very uncomfortable. You figured he was trying to assert dominance but this was pure perversion to you.

Ransom walked in the office. He had helped set up your desk in the same office since he wanted to look into what you were going to do. The room was huge. His desk was on a raised platform while you were on the level. You didn't mind really. The sofas were set to the window overlooking the company employee desks. You had your own assistant and Ransom had his own but you had instructed them to be in constant communication so as to maintain the operations. The HR department was informed of your position and they had worked out the paperworks on it which you and Ransom had signed along with the rest of the documents on your wedding day.

Ransom saw Walt being an ass. He saw him sitting on your desk and your face buried in the laptop trying very hard to avoid Walt. ransom twisted his chair and turned him around, away from you.

“Get out, Walt. you're harassing my wife. You're not needed. You're not the boss. If you have anything to say, talk to me.” Ransom points at the door.

“Hmph. try whatever you two want to but i will be the one saving this company by joining hands with Netflix. You will come running to me. Mind you.” Walt huffed out of the room.

Ransom saw your shoulder sag in relaxation. “Thank you.” you whispered so softly that if Ransom wasn't standing at your desk, he wouldn't have heard it.

“I put a pile on your desk. I thought you'd want to look into them. I don't want you to think that I am trying to take what is yours.” You point at his desk without looking up. Ransom was taken aback. You were involving him. You were not competing with him, but you were taking him along with you.

The day went by in silence. You stayed busy and so did he. Right before the lunch break, you and Ransom went downstairs and introduced yourselves to the employees. Obviously the female employees scoffed at his new wife but what irked Ransom was how the male employees were looking at you. Their eyes raked all over your body. He hadn't noticed your dress but now, he was seeing it. Your bosom was ample and so your cleavage was visible through the top of your blouse. You were wearing pants that accentuated your hips and thighs that made Ransom gasp internally. Your heels just gave your body the extra pump that it needed.

Ransom slowly walked and stood in front of you in a very nonchalant manner. He blocked the view of every male employee of you and he seemed pleased when he heard defeated groans from behind him. He smirked. He saw you weren't even aware of the effect you were having on the people. You were busy talking to the head of the marketing department and setting up dates to figure out marketing of new books. Somehow, he felt proud.

You hadn't brought lunch with you but you had work to do so you ignored food like you always did. After the introductions, you went back to the office and got back to work. Ransom had left right after that. You heard the employees return and you figured that the break was over. It must've been a while when you heard the office door open. You assumed it was one of the assistants and ignored it.

“Yeah, you can leave the file here. Email me the manuscript or if you can print it out for me, that would be great.”

“Did you even eat lunch?” That baritone voice jolts you out of the work.

“No.”

“Did you stay here the entire lunch break?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to eat?”

“...”

Your lack of response made him hiss in annoyance. Ransom picked the intercom from your desk and asked the assistant to bring you an avocado sandwich and freshly cut fruits.

“Listen, I appreciate you picking up the slack but you've got to eat. I can't have you falling because of low blood sugar. Don't expect me to do this every time.”

“I never expected you to do any of this. It's fine. You are not responsible for me.”

You talk back to him and go back to your work. Your food arrives soon and you munch on it while working. Ransom could not help but keep looking at you. He had never seen someone so diligent about Blood Like Wine, except Harlan.

Not everybody knew but Ransom loved Blood Like Wine as his own. It was not because it was his legacy but because it was part of his loving grandfather. Harlan might be a nosy asshole but Ransom did love him and whatever Harlan had was going to be Ransom’s, without question. Although, after all the marriages Ransom had pulled, Harlan was getting worried that he might actually have to cut him off but Ransom looked like he was coming around with this marriage. Harlan liked seeing Ransom getting more involved in it, even though it might be because he saw you as a competition.

Harlan was on his desk at his home when he got reported on their first day together. He smirked when he learnt that Ransom, even though reluctantly, got you lunch. He was also impressed with the amount of work you were catching up on and making Ransom work as well. Usually Ransom would just sit at the office for an hour or so and go off galavanting but with you there, Ransom went home at a regular time and with you strutting in front of him.

……………………..

Two months had gone by and you couldn't complain. Except Walt hovering around you whenever he gets a chance. He just wanted you to listen to his ideas but you knew what Harlan wanted and stayed away from any Walt ideas.

Ransom has been really nice to you. You both never had any moments but whatever was going on, it made things a little clear for you. Ransom was a good person. He was just misunderstood. Actually, people around him were so toxic that it had made him a miserable person. He brought you lunches, dinners and especially freshly cut fruits because you had a tendency of forgetting to eat.

He was somehow more observant than you gave him credit for. He was also such a great boss. Sure, he would be rude and appear as overbearing but it was all in good faith, he just didn't know how to frame the sentences politely.

You handled the employees after he would walk away. You would explain the problems to them in a very mild manner and that boosted a lot of confidence in them. Your pair was seen as ‘good cop, bad cop’. It was very evident who was who.

You still shared an office in his house. You felt at home now. Ransom had started liking having you around. He would actually wait to get a glimpse of you in the morning. If you had left for work before him, he would be cranky the entire day. Nobody noticed that about him, neither him nor you.

………………….

You were comfortably sitting at your desk in the home office when Ransom threw open the door in a haste.

“What?” You were startled.

“I lied to Harlan. I said something and now he is going to be here to check on it. I need you to cooperate.” Ransom practically begged. And you knew that because he never begged.

“Before I cooperate, I need to know the reason. I'm not doing anything that I don't want to do.”

“Obviously. I'm not someone who would force someone to do things.” You raised an eyebrow at Ransom’s comment. “Not unless it's necessary. You know what I'm talking about.”

“You're stalling. What did you tell Harlan?”

“I told Harlan that we were getting along very well. He assumed sexually too so now he thinks we can't keep our hands off of each other. I didn't bother correcting him and now he is coming here for a surprise visit.”

“How do you know about his surprise visit?”

“I have my assistant on his tail. Kind of like a double agent. So will you cooperate?”

“I don't see what's there to cooperate.” You were just getting confused with Ransom’s babbling at this point.

“We will need to look like we are making out.” Ransom straightened up.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You stood up in rage.

“What's wrong with that? It's not like my cock will be in your pussy. You're overreacting. Stop being so prude.” Ransom shrugged his shoulders.

“Ransom!” You yelled loudly, stunning him.

This was the first time in six months you had ever said his name. If you wanted his attention, you might refer to him as Hugh but it was as far as five times in six months. He counted. He always did, unconsciously. He was dying to hear you say his name and now…

“Say it again.” Ransom walked up to you, backing you up against your desk.

“What?” Your voice softened and hoarse.

“My name.” Ransom’s voice dropped an octave, making you clench your thighs.

Ransom walked closer and before you could realize, he had spread your thighs and was standing in between them. You were propped up on the desk and his hands were planted on your waist. He glides his right hand up your body, sending tingles through your clothes. His hand ends up on your neck and he presses his calloused thumb against your throat lightly.

You look in his darkened eyes and obediently do as he told you. “Ransom.” It comes out hoarse due to the fact that you're turned on.

Hearing his name from your mouth and the vibrations that his name caused on his thumb turned him on. Without a thought, his lips descend on your throat. A whimper escaped your lips and your hands slipped around his waist.

“Again.” He demands softly, keeping his lips on your throat.

“Ransom.” You say it again with a whimper.

His lips latched on to your neck and he started sucking and licking. You were a whimpering mess. The way his name vibrated from your throat to his lips spurred him on too much. Your hands tightened around his waist. His right hand held onto your neck while his left slipped in your shirt sending sparks up your back where he placed his hand. Your legs wrapped themselves around his waist as well, pulling him close. His clothed bulge was now snug against your clothed dripping cunt.

It felt like a while till you heard the door to the office open. Harlan was greeted by a scene he was definitely not expecting. He knew that Ransom lied when he did not correct him. But the scene before him was surely not a mirage. Harlan cleared his throat and called out both of your names to pull you both out of the haze.

Your back was against Harlan and so Ransom looked over your shoulder to greet Harlan. You were too embarrassed to turn around so you did what you thought worked the best and that was burying your face in Ransom’s sweater-clad chest. Ransom tightened his hold on you making you feel more comfortable against him. You were now aware of his bulge against your wetness which, in turn, pooled more wetness.

“Sorry, Harlan. I'm a little busy here. Is it important?” Ransom’s hoarse voice rang through your ears.

“No. Nothing important just came by to see you two.” Ransom saw Harlan’s smirk. “Let's meet this weekend at my office. Both of you.” With that statement, Harlan walked out, closing the office door behind him.

You didn't realize you were holding your breath. You let out a strong air and were about to pull away from Ransom when he lifted you off the desk. You yelped and tightened your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. He kept on nipping at your neck making you moan and whimper as he led you to the sofa in the office. He sat down, making you straddle him.

He moves his lips from your neck slowly to your lips. He brushed his lips against yours and looked in your eyes for permission. Your eyes popped open to see his dark blue ones staring right at you. You wanted his lips on yours and he was letting you lead this time. He had loosened his hold on your waist as well, telling you that it's okay to stop.

You looked at his lips and back in his eyes. They were full of desire and you would be lying if you did not want his cock in you.

You grabbed his sweater and pulled him for a deep passionate kiss, surprising him a little. He got over his shock in a second and dove deep with the kiss. Tongues were tangled and hairs were ringed around the fingers. You were grinding against him, so was he.

His hand moved to your breasts and started fondling them from over your bra. You whined, not being able to feel his skin against your taut nipples. You moved your hand back and unhooked your bra then directed his hand under your bra. You hiss and moan when his palms caress your nipples.

He was surprised when you took the lead and directed his hand to your bare breasts. He sighed and drew his lips on the open skin near your breast. You whined again and tugged your top off, along with your bra, leaving your top bare for him. Before he could descend his lips on your chest, you tugged at his sweater and he removed it to reveal a very tight and thick chest.

You roam your hand on his chest and admire the piece of art it was. Seeing your reaction to his body, he chuckled lightly, still fondling your breasts. You wanted his mouth on your nipples so you dragged his face to your breasts and shoved a nipple near his lips. Taking the hint, he opened his mouth and sucked and licked your nipples, making your back arch and moan loudly.

“I am loving the initiative.” Ransom whispered against your nipples.

“Well, you are holding back.” You tug on his hair.

“Then let me not make you wait.”

Ransom unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. He shuffled a little to drop his pants and boxers to his ankle while you did the same with your underwear.

“Let me tell you something, darling, once I have you, I have you. We are not going back. You still have a chance to back out.” Ransom brings your nipples to his lips again, making you moan.

“You're wrong. Once I have you, you're not going back. You better keep that in mind.” You tug at his hair and bring his face near yours. You cupped his face and forced him to look in your eyes. “I will ruin the lives of every woman you will think about during our marriage.”

Ransom chuckled. “You're the only woman I'm going to be thinking about for the rest of our lives.”

You settle well against his thick, long cock, pressing it against your wet lips and grind on him again as you attack his neck with your lips. You started marking him up, leaving deep, dark marks all over his neck while slowly grinding against his naked cock. He was a moaning mess.

“Shit, darling, so possessive.” Ransom grabbed your jaw and dragged your lips back to his.

You lifted yourself a little and his other hand guided his cock within your folds. As his cock entered you, you let out a loud moan.

“So big, Ransom.” Before moving, he lets you get used to his size.

“Fuck, Darling.” Ransom began to move.

You ground your hips against his movement that made you both moan. Because of these movements, his cock kept on hitting your spot and you could do nothing but moan loudly.

“Darling, you’re fucking tight. Damn, I can feel you squeezing me.” Ransom held your hips and made you move faster. You threw your head back and leaned back on his shoulder. Your lips found his again and drowned the noises both of you were making.

“Fuck, Ransom. You make me feel so good.” You descend your lips on his chest and he guides your hips through the movement. He loved hearing his name from you. Especially when you moan about it. He doesn’t think he will ever go back to hearing you say his name normally again.

You both came closer to your high and you brought your hands down to your clit the same time as Ransom. Seeing he was going to take care of you, you take your fingers back and grip his shoulder to move faster.

“Fuck! Faster Ransom!”

Ransom swirls his finger on your clit faster and you bounce on his cock with much vigor. You both get to your high together and the coil in your stomach snaps. You cum all over his cock as he kept on thrusting in you, cumming himself. You ride out your orgasm with him. His thrusting falters and you sag against his chest just as he sags on the couch.

You both stay like this for a few minutes. Ransom had his arms around you and one of which was caressing your cheek. You snuggle closer to him. He was still buried deep in you and both of your cum dribbled out of you on the couch but none of you wanted to move.

“Come on, darling, we should get up and get cleaned. It's time for your fruits.” Ransom held on to you and stood up. His cock slipped out of you, making you whimper at his loss.

“Are you sure youre not feeding me fruits so that you get to fuck me again?” You try to tease Ransom that made him chuckle.

“Yes. That is exactly why. I need you in my bed.” He walks into the bathroom and helps you stand in the shower. “But before that, I'm going to have you in the shower.”

That entire day was spent in the bed with Ransom. After each round, he would feed you fruits and give you water bottles to stay hydrated. It wasn't until way past midnight that you both grew tired and after one last round in the shower, you both snuggled in his bed to sleep.

Next day when you woke up, one thing was made very clear by Ransom and that was “You are it for me, darling. You're my wife, you're my partner and I am willing to spend the rest of my life making sure you eat on time.”

Fair to say, he moved your desk out and extended his desk so you could sit with him. He refused to stay away from you for even five minutes but you didn't mind. Both of you worked in expanding Blood Like Wine into a bigger name than it was and you managed to protect his legacy just how he liked it. Harlan was happy with whatever was going on and stopped meddling.

Ransom had finally found a woman who was his number one and for whom he was the number one.

#fanfiction #fluff #angst #smut #fanfic #ransom drysdale #ransom x reader #ransom drydale x you #ransom drysdale x reader #knives out

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darkbluekies · 2 years ago

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A lot of jealousy filled yandere one shot please!!,,,been craving for some jealousy lately.

Jealousy makes people blind

Yandere!king OC x fem reader

Summary: you have to join in on the king's meeting, but the others gazes towards you makes the meeting end in blood.

Warnings: killing, beheading, blood, jealousy, obsessive behavior, yandere themes

Word count: 1.5k

A king who has everything and can get whatever he desires should be satisfied, shouldn’t he? Wrong. Edmund is greedy and violent and he’ll not stop fighting until he gets what he wants. Like how he got you. You can still see the horrific scene from when he forced you to marry him when you close your eyes, all the blood covering the floor, all the bodies. It hasn't disappeared yet. Uncleanable stains in the carpets and a metallic scent in the air is still prominent in the ballroom. You don't go there anymore.

Edmund is currently rummaging through the chamber after his brooches. He would lose his own head if it weren't attached to his neck. Weirdly enough, he never seems to lose you or his wedding ring?

"Where the fuck are they?!" he shouts and rips the pillow that's right beside you off the bed. "I know I put them here somewhere!"

You should probably tell him that you put the brooches in your bedside table drawer. They were scattered across the floor yesterday and you knew that if they disappeared, he'd get one of his tantrums … so you put it in your drawer for safe keeping. He notices how you flinch when he rips the paraffin lamp down on the floor and quickly comes back to his senses. He crawls up on the bed and cups your cheeks.

"I'm sorry, love", he says softly. "I didn’t mean to scare you. Have you seen my brooches? I have to find them before the meeting."

Kings from other kingdoms are coming to the castle to discuss peace and alliance. And you have to join since you're now the queen.

"I put them away in my bedside table drawer …", you say shyly.

"Why did you do that?"

"T-They were lying on the floor yesterday. I was scared they'd break or disappear."

All anger runs off his face and he gives you a relieved smile before kissing your lips.

"What would I do without you, hm?" he smiles and opens your drawer, finding the two jeweled brooches inside. "Thank you, my love."

You follow the small jewelry as he clips it onto his expensive clothing.

"You should make yourself ready too", Edmund says. "Although I'm not happy that you have to join my meeting because you have no reason to engage in politics … I'll accept it."

"Please don't do anything stupid."

"I won't do anything stupid. But if the other kings suggest something stupid, I will behead them and burn their castle to the ground!"

"That's not how you have a civilized discussion."

"I know. I don't care. If the court had not suggested that I invite them over to talk, they'd have stormed the castle!" He cups your cheeks. "I won't let anything happen to you." He lets go and starts walking back and forth again. "So now I have to argue with these pigs about my territory! For heaven's sake! It's my territory! They have no right to take it! And now we should compromise for whatever reasons I don't have the energy to care about!"

"Edmund. Calm down."

He sighs and nods.

"Fine", he agrees. "Okay, get ready now so we can get this over with. Afterwards, you and I are going to take a nap."

"I'd like to go to the library actually …", you say.

"No. We're going to nap."

You sigh and fight the urge to roll your eyes.

An hour later, you and Edmund walk through the castle hand in hand, escorted by royal guards. Edmund always holds you close whenever someone is around, whether it be a man or a woman. You are his and no one else can be trusted. Every woman in the kingdom dreams of being in your position and jealousy can make a person do horrible stuff.

They walk into the meeting room and see the other three kings sitting around the round table. They have scars over their faces and look more masculine than any man you’ve ever seen before. They remind you of vikings. Without noticing, you squeeze Edmund’s hand tighter. He smiles at you and kisses your temple. The other three kings stand up to shake your hand, but Edmund stops your hand before you can touch them.

“Don’t touch my wife”, he says coldly. “Don’t even look at her. If she has to be here, then you’re not going to look at her.”

They laugh awkwardly and sit down again. You immediately feel out of place once they start discussing. Edmund’s hand is squeezing yours under the table, his grip growing tighter and tighter each minute. You give him a worried glance.

“You’re hurting me”, you whisper.

He sighs out and lightens his grip. He lifts up your intervened hands to his lips and kisses your fingers. You notice how the other kings gazes glance over to you and Edmund. Edmund notices. Before you have time to stop him, he shoots them dark eyes.

“I told you not to look at her”, he says warningly. “Y/N, go outside.”

Your blood goes cold. You take a harder grip on Edmunds hand, a silent plea to make him realize what he’s going to do.

“Go outside”, he tells you, giving you a small push towards the door.

You understand that if you don’t listen to him, you’ll have to relive the day that has made you sleepless at night. Involuntarily, you stand up and make your way out the door. Edmund closes it behind you. You only have time to see his maniatic eyes before the door separates you. Edmund turns to the three kings and pulls out his sword from his belt. If there’s one thing Edmund can handle, it’s his sword.

“I told you not to look at her”, he says deeply and swings the sword around to give them a scare. “I told you not to look at my property. She’s mine. I’ve killed for her before and I will do it again.”

“Your majesty, we didn’t mean any disrespect to your beautiful wife”, one of the kings say slowly, holding his hands out in front of him. “Put down the weapon.”

“Beautiful, huh?” Edmund’s eyes are crazed and his heart is pounding too fast, too loud. He swings his sword. “Get down on your knees. Now.”

The other king gulps and slowly sinks down on the floor. Edmund puts the point of the sword to the man’s throat.

“You’re right”, he says darkly. “My wife is beautiful. The most beautiful woman in this entire world. But you shouldn't look at her. You shouldn’t tell me that she’s beautiful. I can see that for myself. You probably have some real nasty thoughts about my wife, don’t you?” Edmund lets the glare move over to the other two men. “You do too. Why wouldn’t you? My wife is wonderful. But you’re not her husband. I am. She’s mine. Only mine.”

With that said, he swings the sword and the kneeling king’s head in front of him falls down to the wooden floor with a ‘thump’ while the body falls to the other side. Edmund stares down at the head, heavily breathing. He should feel bad, shouldn’t he? He thinks he should. But he doesn’t.

“You two”, he says and points the bloody sword towards the remaining kings. “Anything you want to say about my wife, hm? Want to say how beautiful she is? How you wished she was yours? Continue wish upon a fucking star. She’s not going anywhere.”

He loses composition of himself and swings his sword left to right, slicing whatever piece of meat he can get a hold of. Once he notices that none of the men are standing anymore, he drops his sword and walks to the door. He finds you sitting outside, curled up in a ball with your back against the wall and hiding your face down in your knees. You look up once he comes out and his heart stops at the sight of your tears. He remembers how you were crying at the masquerade he held three months ago. You were so pretty then and he loved to see you so vulnerable. Whatever this is … he hates it. You have a look in your eyes that you didn’t have that night. Last time, your eyes softened once you saw the king … this time they go wide. You’re afraid of him.

“Shh, shh”, he whispers and sinks down on his knees by your side. He cups your wet cheeks, stroking the skin with his thumbs. “Don’t cry, everything is okay now.”

“L-Let me go!” you sob while trying to push him away with your hands and turn your face away.

“It’s okay, my love.”

“I hate you!”

“I know my jealousy can be frightening, I know, okay?” He kisses your nose. “But it keeps you safe! It reassures our relationship! No one should break us apart!” He rests his forehead against yours. “Oh, I love you so much, my queen. I can’t live without you!”

You’re a sobbing mess in his hands. He tries holding you together, making sure that the pieces of you don’t fall apart. You’re squirming against him as if you were mad yourself.

“I’m protecting you”, Edmund says but you don’t know if it is to reassure you or reassure himself.

You close your eyes and sob. Jealousy can make a person do horrible stuff.

#yandere #yandere talks #yandere drabbles #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere fics #yandere stories #yandere x reader #king yandere #yandere king

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major-knighton · 3 months ago

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After @frevandrest and @robespapier , it was my turn to visit the French Revolution museum in Vizille. Here are my highlights :

Firstly, birbs.

This plate celebrating gay relationships in the middle of wedding plates.

The lads ft. Manon Roland

Tiny revolutionary brooches

This cat under Couthon's chair? As a disabled person myself I can't imagine how stressing this moment would have been.

#frev #French revolution

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cboffshore · 3 months ago

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"Bridal Portrait of Uncertain Origin"

Artist unknown, circa the Fall of the Preeminent (estimated)

Oils on bespoke canvas, silk tulle, gilded oak frame

Shortly after the last Yin-Yang Eclipse prior to the Merge, this portrait was discovered in the attic of the Temple of Airjitzu, despite no records of the portrait ever being displayed inside. Indeed, "Bridal Portrait of Uncertain Origin" lacks any solid provenance or provable history. The materials and techniques used only further obscure the truth; perhaps the only thing certain about it is that it exists.

Examination of the structure of the canvas and gilded wooden frame indicate classical techniques from the end of the Era of the Stone Warrior; however, chemical analysis of the paints, varnish, and other materials used to finish the base revealed compounds identical to substances readily available in civilian art supply establishments of pre-Merge urban Ninjago, specifically those available shortly before the portrait's discovery.

Further complicating matters, the image itself is a web of self-contradictions and mismatched details. The subject's pose is highly informal, but the portrait itself - from the level of detail in the oil paint to the larger-than-life scale - is lavish enough to suggest a formal reason for its creation. The subject's attire, too, is highly unusual. Of all known ceremonial attire in the realms, the blues, sharp lapels, and floral motifs rendered here most closely match traditional Djinjagan royal wedding garments (hence the portrait's given title). However, the presence of only two arms, human legs emphasized by a jumpsuit, and the highly unusual structure of the outfit preclude it from being truly Djinjagan in origin and match no other known ceremonial garments from any realm.

Despite all of these bizarre qualities, perhaps the most intriguing part of the portrait is the silk tulle veil flowing out from the painting to drape over the edge of the frame. Independent analyses by multiple art historians found absolutely no point of the connection between the veil and the canvas; the fabric seems to proceed from the image itself, as if the frame is in fact only a window sill separating the viewer from the bride. Furthermore, chemical analysis of the veil revealed trace quantities of organic Latrodectus sotoii venom - a toxin found only on one island in all sixteen realms, which was nowhere close to the portrait's point of origin. Combined with the spiderweb embroidery on the veil, as well as the subject's trio of spider shaped brooches and venom-coated raised hand, the presence of this toxin may be the most reasonable thing about this portrait.

(Now: notes from the artist.)

The process for this one was utterly unlike any other artistic project I've ever done. This all started with me thinking back over a past Skybound analytical piece of mine and thinking how fun it might be to try putting it on an actual person instead of the template croquis I designed it on. (Also: seeing how my texturing methods have evolved!) One Dallon Weekes photo and a Reel about quick contrapposto armature doodling later and I was off to the races.

Initially, this was only supposed to be a souped up edition of the original look - the second image shown just above these notes. Then, while I was trying to figure out how I wanted to display the veil, I wondered: wouldn't it be neat to let it drape out of the frame? Except for I didn't have a frame involved at that point.

At which point I decided, well.... let's make a frame happen. There was already a decidedly haunted portrait energy coming off of this thing (fully intentional, but that's what happens when two of the albums you associate most strongly with your Skybound work are Vices and Virtues and Violent Things), so I thought: let's put it on display. Let's let the veil creep out to meet actual gallery air. Furthermore, why not give it a scary ass, borderline SCP ish existence? I do love an excuse to try and write a museum plaque.

Put another way: If you walked into a gallery and saw an oversized portrait of you on one of the worst days of your life that never happened, except for all the details were wrong (but just right enough to suggest the artist knew what she was doing), would that be fucked up or what?

Some other assorted notes about this:

The design of the gallery space itself was inspired by an image of Crystal Bridges, an art museum in Arkansas that I'm hoping to visit later this year on a trip I'm taking to that area. I've had a family friend hyping it up for years now, and I've looked into it a lot; it's an incredible space. In the fictional lore of this painting, it ends up in a Crossroads art preservation institute of some kind that hangs on to art and artifacts from throughout the realms that crashed together in the Merge. (I couldn't quite squeeze that into the plaque writeup without sounding clunky.) Crystal Bridges, an American art museum with a dizzying range of works, inspired that idea and seemed the most appropriate place to base my fictional gallery on. Here's the image I used as reference, taken from a Google result from their site:

There is, in fact, text on that plaque on the wall. It's too tiny to read, but I promise that's text. Barring a few minor changes, it's the same as in the writeup; I typed it out, screenshotted and removed the background, and laid it out on the plaque. Much easier than trying to draw out teeny individual words.

Something else I couldn't fit into the plaque but tried to imply via the details was that this piece survived whatever collection it was originally in and made it through the Merge inexplicably intact, much like Nya's memories of the deleted timeline still hanging on even after the full reset. Weird as some stuff in this world is, there truly is no escaping it. Better get some nice lighting on it and try to get to the bottom of it. (I do also think it's funny how I bent over backwards trying to help this unnamed plaque author curator character trace every possible origin path when the motive for making this was just... fun. I just did this for fun and then I tried to make it look so grand and terrifying.)

The outfit in the portrait is faithful to the original design, with a few tweaks: the web collar is now gold to stand out against the veil, the veil itself is much longer, there are now two more spiders on the skirt, and there's a birdcage-inspired crinoline under the skirt. That last one was a technical decision, as the lace this time around didn't feel like it could hold itself up. Also, it's a convenient source of more symbolism if you need one.

That's about all the notes I have for right now - if I think of others, I'll be sure to add them. If you have any questions or comments, the inbox is always, always open.

Thank you for stopping by the exhibit.

#art on Tumblr #Ninjago fanart #Ninjago Skybound #Ninjago Delara #Ninjago couture #Lila draws #ordinarily I don't feel bad for people I have blocked but this one I do. rip my mutualship with [REDACTED] you would have had #thoughts on this for sure.#genuinely a banger I'm gonna have to go lie down til December I think #Ninjago Nya #how did I forget that tag that's like the most important one.....#Ninjago #I take that back THAT is the most crucial tag wtf. thanks Raine

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 11 months ago

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Restoration Crewle asked the light music club ( Carter, Kalim, Lilia ) for a favor as her godmother ( Dutchess ) is getting remarried and her band have something else to do and couldn't help with few love songs she wrote for the wedding, and she invited Malleus and Sebek to join due to her plus bail on her

The wedding there alot of music loving cat beastmen with few humans and demons as the wedding came out perfect even with few hiccups, as during the flower toss Crewle daughter caught the flowers as she'll be the next lucky bride as she caught it while dancing with one of the boys?

How would Kalim, Lilia, Sebek, Carter, and Malleus when the flower been caught while dancing?

Godmother’s Wedding w/ Restoration Crewel Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

That’s the thing though. You’d never ask.

So consumed with your gift, you’d never bother to do such a thing. No doubt using your magic on an antique family brooch of the bride’s you barely notice you need to bring a plus one. Crewel who is already attending is more than happy to attend with you, already coordinating outfits for you both. Only by Ducchess’ loving intervention do you nonchalantly pick the closest person next to you to attend.

Since the bouquet throwing and dancing is separate there isn’t an immediate correlation for anybody…except for whoever your plus one is. To them it is a sign of destiny already calling for your reunion.

All of them are giddy but they’ll maintain composure for the rest of the night. As well as gauging their show of joyful expressions considering Crewel is visibly plotting their demise.

#yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yanderes crewel daughter #yanderexrea #crewel daughter reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere twisted wonderland x reader

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cosplayinamerica · 3 months ago

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Cowboy Peach & Mario with Toad @hollarityart @icecolebrew @thechristopherescalante / photo : ejen

I have been cosplaying Princess Peach for almost two years now and I have cosplayed as her in her regular princess gown, her vacation swimsuit, a witch version of her regular dress, her red carpet dress, her wedding dress, and now her cowboy outfit.

I grew up loving Princess Peach when I was a child because she was a beautiful princess who could hold her own in a video game world. She’s demure yet determined, and a personal role model. Peach is such a joy to cosplay because almost everyone recognizes her and is so excited to see her. I especially love seeing how kids react to seeing Peach.

Conventions can be overwhelming and confusing to people, especially children, who are not used to all the characters and activities there, but Princess Peach is a familiar face they can recognize. Having worked with kids for a few years now, I enjoy being a reassuring presence and greeting kids and families with a warm smile and a Peachy platitude.

When the video game Princess Peach: Showtime was announced I knew I had to try one of her new outfits. She has several new costumes in that game and while I was drawn to many of them, it was Cowgirl Peach that called to me the most.

As a homegrown Texan it felt great to represent my state and heritage with this cowboy fit. For this cosplay I re-used my Peach wig, her brooch, and my Bowsette horns (another similar cosplay that has horns).

For the new elements, I thrifted and modified most of the pieces- the chaps were a pair of vegan leather pants I found at a thrift shop and cut into the correct chap shape. I also picked up a belt and cowboy boots at the thrift store too, and I modified the belt to fit through the chaps and through a rodeo style belt buckle. I work at a children’s toy store so I picked up some of my cowboy gear there (the hat and some accessories). And the lasso was a repurposed Wonder Woman lasso of truth, haha.

I am big on recycling clothing items I already have, and this was a great down to earth cosplay to do that with. My husband cosplayed Cowboy Mario with me and most of his outfit is clothing items we already have plus additional cowboy accessories I picked up from the toy store I work at. His outfit is based on the Mario Party cowboy outfit!

The response was wonderful! So many people asked to take our photos and the gasps of recognition we heard when we turned a corner or got off an elevator were delightful. It really feels like being a celebrity when people stop to ask to take your photo. We even had a moment when we were talking to someone real world famous who has millions of followers (I won’t name drop) but people stopped to ask to take photos of us while we were RIGHT next to them. It is so surreal, and makes me want to work harder each time I cosplay. It’s like being an ambassador for the character. You want to represent them respectfully and leave people with a great impression.

#Cowboy Peach #Princess peach #cosplay #colossal con Texas

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heartofbusan · 4 months ago

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Can't help falling in Love.

Many famous rockstars have worn heels. Bangtan too have worn many a high heel. Hoseok slayed his pair during MAMA 2022. Jk more recently wore a nice pair for a shoot.

Yet, whenever Jimin wears a heel, I feel like he's very intentional with it. Especially here, where the dychotomy of the simple dark slimfit suit with those 'fuck me' boots are striking on him. The inseam of the trouser shows off the slope of the shoe in such a way as to become meaningful. Not hidden. Not worn to create hight, but to be flaunted. And Jimin, who leans into his feminine side with practiced ease, his long legs strong and grounded.

There are a few more things to note about this Serenade poster. The colors are giving 'blush and bashful' (if anyone gets this reference, let's be friends) and remind me of old-fashioned weddings, which my mind then connects to 'chapel of love', and yes, Elvis! The King. The photo has a very vintage like flair with a modern twist.

It also seems like Jimin’s jacket has an epaulette, and maybe even a brooch??

I went looking far and wide for a brooch Jimin wore during the PTD concerts because I remember reading somewhere that he wore a vintage brooch, that then got repurposed for JK's SNTY mv outfit. It's the top starburst brooch on JK's right shoulder in the pic below. Did I make that up?? JK, likewise, has an epaulet on his jacket 👀 too early to tell perhaps.

Speaking of Elvis, another thing to note is that Elvis, too famously, enlisted at the peak of his career. He was plagued by fans on or near his base when all he wanted was to serve dutifully.

The last part of the quote reminded me of Jimin and his shorn locks. It seemed like that was one of the last parts of his identity that he loathed, having to let that go before enlisting.

NOW TELL ME Why did I make myself sad after the initial PTERODACTYL SCREECH I let out when I first saw the poster and those heels!?!... damn, lemme go back to that creature. Living life, loving Jimin. Screaming at work like a normal person.

#me going loco over jimin what else is new #jimin #serenade poster #muse #muse is coming #park jimin #but seriously wtf park jimin #are you kidding me #fuck me boots #jikook

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shmowder · 5 months ago

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PLEASE LEWAD SNIFF SNIFG EOEASE PLEASE OLEASE PELASE PLEAE PLWASE HGK SNIFFLE SNIFFEL PEALSE LELAS LLEASE PLWASE PLAESE PELAS OLEES SOBS CRIES HEAVES EPLASE PELASE PEEEAAASSEEE

Fluffy marriage HC with the Daniil Dankovsky

Museum dates

It's the ideal date spot for him, getting you dressed up and marvelling at the history and arts of those who came before us.

He gets to show off his knowledge in front of you, which is a bonus. The soft lighting of the museum, the quiet atmosphere as he purposely avoids the crowded displays, leading you to a much more niche collection yet still beautiful all the same. Genuine passion in his eyes as he explains how this came to be, who documented it, how it was preserved through the generations. How close it came to ruin, to being stolen or torn apart during a war, how despite all of the strife it beat the odds and survived.

Immortalises in a glass box to inspire the future. He stares at the traces of history with longing, retelling the lives of the greats with yearning. He wants to belong there too.

his achievements will go down in history. One day, his name will join the list.

takes good care of his wedding ring

It's a symbol of your shared love, a proof of the vows you exchanged, how could he ever not?. He polishes and cleans it, sends it to a jeweller for maintenance once a year alongside his silver brooch.

He takes such good care of it that on some days he doesn't wear it to work. The lab equipments and chemicals he works with are too much of a liability to risk bringing near the ring. Yes, he knows gold is a noble element and therefore doesn't react with much, yes it is resistant to most acids.

But that's the key word here, most. All it takes is one unlucky day for the ring to be lost forever. He doesn't want to get a replacement. He wants to preserve this one. The same one you've slid onto his finger that day, he won't settle for less.

Otherwise, on safer outings, he makes sure to wear it... under his gloves. Hey, this way, it can't get stolen or slide off. Why are you giving him that look? He is a genius, shush.

Puts effort into his appearance to impress you

A lot of effort. He knows you will love him regardless–well maybe he has some doubts about just how loveable his personality alone can be–but he still wants to look good for you.

It's such an ego boost to stand out amongst other men too, especially other husbands who just stopped trying the second they got married. Oh no, if anything, Daniil tries even harder because you will be seeing him every day.

Making sure he's well-groomed and clean, taking care of his hair so it's fluffy and well combed. Styling it every day in the mirror until it frames his face perfectly. Ironing his clothes, from his shirt to his vest and even trousers. Hell, one time, you caught him ironing his socks after he woke up groggy and sleepy.

Especially since how much freedom, time and money he has now that university is over. He can afford the high-end capital brands and all the expensive clothes and fabrics. You still remember the day he excitedly came home to show you the one-of-a-kind snakeskin coat he bought at full price.

If you keep complimenting him like this, then his head will grow too big to fit through the door at the end of the day.

Silk cravats, leather gloves and shoes. Deep crimson red became his iconic colour amidst the blacks, whites, and greys. He knows he looks goods, fluffing his feathers with the confidence of a peacock as you come into the room, waiting for that twinkle in your eyes, that blush on your cheeks, the praise.

He has a clear vision of the man he wants to be, and he makes them come true, always working with diligence and care, putting effort into every aspect of his life.

Your taste does influence his fashion choices, too. If you mention liking a certain colour, he will incorporate it more into his wardrobe. Yes, he still has his iconic red, but he makes a couple exceptions for your favourite colour. Things he wears on special occasions, your birthday, wedding anniversary, or even just weekend dates.

Brings you up in every conversation

If a stranger met Daniil Dankovsky the Bachelor of Medicine, then they'll soon enough be acquainted with his spouse in less than 5 minutes of him talking. He never fails to mention you in some form or way, be it quoting something you said as if you were a well-known philosopher, or mentioning how someone's waiting for him at home so the stranger should kindly not waste his time.

His coworkers in Thanatica hear about you every day. During each watercooler conversation or lunch break, he answers their polite "How is life going for you, Dr.Dankovsky?" by replying as if they asked about you and nothing else.

Well, you are his life, so it makes sense from his point of view. Yes, the time you two spend together is rather too short for his liking these past months, but not a day passes by where he doesn't think about you or your wellbeing.

His reason for living, his breath of air, his beloved.

my life, my love.

Mea vita.

Deep conversations

Throughout his life, the bachelor came to the realisation that people don't like to use their brains, very early on.

It sounds condescending to claim, but it has been proven time after time with everyone he attempted to befriend or the other way around. Most people would rather turn off their brains and drift through life until their sand clock runs out.

Even the so-called respected academics suffered from the same trait at times. Daniil might have just minored in philosophy but he still took the classes more seriously than some of his colleagues who had it as a major.

He tries to appear intellectual, yes. But it's not a complete preformance, deep down, he really admires those traits. He wants someone smart and not afraid to have these difficult conversations, to discuss heavy topics with.

Especially someone who isn't afraid to be proven wrong, who doesn't take offence to him poking holes in their logic.

You were genuinely in it for the science, for the sake of learning, just like him. You didn't cut off his long explanations short, neither did you wave off his philosophic debates with a polite smile. You indulged him, even if you didn't have a single clue what he was saying, you still tried to listen and understand.

You allowed him to explain.

Daniil is self aware, he knows that he is too much. Too driven by pride and ego, too heavy for people to swallow. But he refuses to break himself into bite-sizes or water his intellectualism down.

You weren't intimidated, neither did you worship the ground he walks on. You saw him as human, capable of right and wrong, of ignorance and justice.

Correcting him on some occasions, winning against him in debates and arguments at times.

Daniil fell more and more in love with you each time. He was the most himself around you, full of passion, not afraid to share his wild theories or less refined ideas. Knowing you won't judge him for where he stood on the chessboard, even if the two of you disagreed on some principles, there will always be a spot for him in your arms.

tries to maintain your lifestyle

When he married you, he vowed to himself never to let you need anything in this life. All the prestigious salaries and funding that came with his degree will be used to fund his family first and his research second.

And you are his entire family, his only family, his beloved spouse.

He wants you to lead a comfortable life, to indulge in luxurious every now and then. Whatever your hobbies may be, expensive or not, they are completely supported by him.

Because you being happy and never having to work a day in your life, is genuinely the biggest achievement he could ever strive for.

He'll pick up the extra shifts at the hospital, don't worry about it. He wants the experience either way, it is his choice.

He will do whatever he can to maintain the high standards lifestyle he got you accustomed to. Even when Thanatica funds run dry from the lack of progress, he still doesn't compromise the home finance and rather go on long work trips and put in more efforts to meet the standards.

You have your degree, yes, and you're free to peruse any research of your own. Daniil would take care of the funding, he insists.

It's personal for him to be able to provide for you and your dreams. So you may never wish for anything you couldn't acquire.

Lets you see the embarrassing sides of him

When he's having bad hair days and ends up blaming the haircomb for not cooperating. His tendency to spill wine after a drink or two–which might be the real reason behind his dark red vests.

When he's rehearsing his speeches the night prior to the conference. When he's practising his latin pronunciation and keeps clumsily sounding the new words out.

How he slurs his speech and becomes very cuddly when wasted. How his student days of... wild drinking lowered his tolerance so much that it doesn't take much for him to start being moppy and clingy as he pours his heart out to you because nothing is working out in his research and he doesn't know what to do.

You've seen that man both at his most unfaltering situations and glamorous moments. He's so grumpy in the morning, annoyed by the sun as he forces himself out of bed and begins begrudgingly ironing his clothes and getting ready for work.

How he refuses to leave the house if he isn't fully content with his appearance. Even during his most work cramped weeks, he'd still pause before the mirror to adjust his caravat while glaring at his reflection with dark circles under his eyes.

You've seen him chase a rat out of the kitchen once after it stole one of the experimental tissue samples he brought home from the labs and put in the freezer.

The genius of the century, Daniil Dankovsky, cornering a small rat and threatening it with a loaded pistol in the middle of the night.

It was you who saved the day when you simply set up a big block of cheese on the nearby floor which the rat quickly scurried at. Its large size forcing the rat to abandon the dish sample in order to greedly drag the huge cheese away.

Although, you didn't have the heart to tell him that you did this because you knew how bad at aiming your husband was and you rather liked the new kitchen wall tiles the two of you just spent a fortune to have installed the other day.

Takes you on his work trips

The two of you travelled to france enough for Daniil to pick up on the language, using it to terrorise his poor coworkers back home, as if the latin wasn't enough already.

Surprisingly, the two of you spent more time together during those trips. Being in a different country meant he was only allowed to work within the normal working hours for other people, tragic yes. There was no private Thanatica labs for him to spend the night at, he'd get kicked out of the institution labs each time he attempts to stay more than the allowed duration.

So instead, he'd focus on you, takes you on dates around the new country. Sightseeing together and enjoying the culture and culinary food. Trying things you've never heard of before, Daniil truly loved the exploration of the unkown at his heart, and it really shined through during these nights.

Those trips were as therapeutic for him as they were for you. He had the person he loved most in the world by his side as the two of you tredded through new cities and marvled at extravagant inventions.

The creme de la creme of society, of art works and poetry. Each museum is filled with rich history and futuristic inventions. The two of you even rode an air balloon during one of those trips once, looking at the world below, drifting through the clouds. Daniil tightly held your hand, and for once, he knew that this way where he belonged, that there is nowhere else where he would rather be than here by your side.

Ngl that actually was a treat to write after all of that angst. Huh, I actually didn't expect to enjoy fluffy romantic husband Daniil this much but I did. I guess we both learned something new in this endeavour.

I hope you liked it because wow this one was rather tricky. I had to resist the urge for angst and bonk it with a broom each time it reared its head. Stay down ya cunt, I'd yell at it atop my fluffy fort of pillows and everything nice.

Tell me your thoughts if you did enjoy it <3 I hope you have a great day. I will come back later and fix the typos.

#♧fluff #♧Daniil #♧x reader #daniil dankovsky x reader #pathologic x reader #x reader #♧husband daniil

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c-e-d-dreamer · 1 year ago

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But I'm Only Looking At You: Epilogue

A/N: Whelp. It's officially the end of @cassianappreciationweek and it's officially the end of this fic. I hope everyone has enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing! Everyone's comments and reblogs have meant the absolute world to me. And I hope you all enjoy this cute little epilogue. Maybe one day I'll return to this Universe and what Nesta's sisters are getting up to ;)

Read on AO3 // Chapter Masterlist // Previous Part

Cassian can’t stop staring at her, can barely breathe. She’s not wearing her hair down the way she’s grown more comfortable doing around the manor, but it’s not her uptight style either. The top part of her hair is still braided back around her head, but the rest of her hair falls in soft waves around her shoulders. It’s beautiful. She’s beautiful. He can’t stop tracking the faint shades of pink sitting high on her cheek bones, can’t stop tracking the way she has her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she concentrates.

But it’s Nesta’s dress that truly has Cassian’s attention, that has his heart skipping over itself between his ribs. The red of the tartan looks breathtaking on her, complimenting well with the stormy blue of his eyes. His colors. She’s wearing his colors. Their colors now. It’s everything he’s ever dreamed of, and now it’s right here in front of him.

He reaches his hand up toward her, his fingers just barely skating across the skin of her wrist before Nesta smacks his hand away. She finishes securing his brooch into place, straightening out the fabric of his own tartan. She slides her hands down his chest, her lips tugging up in a satisfied smile, and Cassian can’t stop his own grin from growing. His hands move to secure around her waist, tugging her flush against him.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Cassian murmurs, leaning down to steal a kiss, but before he can, Nesta’s hand on his chest stops him.

“We’re late enough as it is,” Nesta reminds him. “And Elain will kill us.”

“It’s not our fault the baby came early. I mean one would almost think—”

“Don’t you dare.”

Cassian presses his lips firmly together, biting his tongue around the words threatening to spill forward, but he’s certainly not the first person to think them. The whole ton has been a flood of gossip and whispers, so much so it’s reached even him. Everyone is talking about how fruitful Lucien and Elain’s wedding night must have been, how quickly they were blessed to be with child.

It doesn’t help, of course, that Lucien had used his money and status to be granted a Special License, he and Elain wed faster than the post could reach he and Nesta in Glasgow to attend. That particular part of their whirlwind love story only seems to feed and fuel the spiraling talk around the ton, the speculation and the curious glances.

Between that and his and Nesta’s own unorthodox wedding, it’s safe to say that most members of London’s society now looked down their noses at the former Archeron ladies.

Still, Cassian doesn’t breathe a word of that aloud to Nesta. He certainly has no intention of stoking that fire, of earning his wife’s ire. So, instead he tries a different tactic, not releasing her from his grip and tilting his head, offering Nesta that charming smirk he knows she loves.

“It’s just a kiss, Nes.”

Nesta rolls her eyes, but she can’t hide the fondness of her expression. “And I know you. I know exactly what one kiss will lead to.”

“Just one kiss,” Cassian promises.

He reaches one of his hands up to cradle her jaw, leaning in until his nose bumps against hers. With his fingers pressed against her neck, he can feel the way her breath hitches, the way her pulse jumps and betrays her. He can watch the way her eyelashes flutter, eyes melting to that beautiful shade of blue he loves.

He closes the distance between them and slots their lips together, kissing Nesta languidly. She practically sighs into his mouth, fingers curling into his shirt, and he knows he’s won, teasingly sweeping his tongue into her mouth. When he finally pulls away, Nesta presses up onto her toes and tries to follow, and Cassian can’t help but chuckle softly, pressing a final, sweet kiss to her lips.

“Just one kiss as promised,” Cassian says, smiling smugly at the blissed out expression on her face.

“I hate you,” Nesta mutters, straightening and dusting her hands down her skirt.

She turns on her heel and heads for the bedroom door, but Cassian is hot on her heels. “That’s a funny way to say love.”

Nesta turns her head over her shoulder to settle Cassian with an unimpressed look, but he doesn’t let it deter him, doesn’t even bother biting back his wide smile. He sees the flicker of amusement glint through her blue eyes, sees the smallest twitch to the corner of her lips that gives away the smile she’s trying to suppress, but she’s quick to turn back around, pulling open the door and stepping out into the hallway.

Cassian reaches out and catches Nesta’s hand in his as they walk, threading their fingers together and bringing their joined hands to his mouth so he can press a kiss to Nesta’s knuckles. When she turns to glance at him again, she’s wearing that soft, fond expression that Cassian knows is only for him, that always sends his heart soaring. She squeezes his fingers with hers, and he knows all is forgiven. They head down the stairs and into the hall, Rhys making a big show of sighing, pushing off where he’s leaning against the wall.

“Glad you both finally decided to join us,” Rhys comments dryly, raising a pointed eyebrow.

“Jealousy isn't a good look on you, Rhysie. We were busy,” Cassian explains, daring to wink, but it earns him a smack in the stomach from Nesta, hard enough to pull a surprised gasp out of him. “Sorry, Nes.” He presses a kiss to Nesta’s cheek in apology, Nesta humming quietly in acceptance.

Azriel chooses that moment to step into the room, straightening out the cuffs of his sleeve. “Are we leaving? The carriage is waiting.” His eyes sweep over everyone, settling on Nesta and offering her a small smile and a bow of his head. “Mrs MacLeod. You look lovely. Red certainly suits you.”

“Thank you,” Nesta tells him. “I’m glad someone here is capable of being a gentleman.”

Azriel’s smile morphs into a smirk and he holds out his arm in offering. “Always.”

Striding forward, Nesta settles her hand in the crook of Azriel’s elbow, allowing him to guide them both out of the door and out of Velaris manor. Cassian wants to be annoyed, but it warms his heart to see Nesta so comfortable with his chosen brothers. Especially Azriel. Ever since he made the trip to come and stay at their manor in Glasgow, she and him seem to share some sort of special bond, one that strangely involves a lot of intense games of cards.

Cassian and Rhys follow them out the door and into the carriage, Cassian taking the seat beside Nesta with his brothers opposite him. He lays his hand on her leg, thumb tracing senseless, soothing patterns across her knee, as the carriage jerks forward. With her arms looped through his, Nesta lets out a soft sigh and drops her head to his shoulder, the long journey and carriage ride of yesterday clearly leaving her exhausted still. Cassian turns his face enough that he can press a kiss to her head, hiding his soft, happy smile in her hair, but he can feel Rhys and Azriel’s attention on them, can see their knowing expressions and smirks out of the corner of his eye.

“Excited to see Feyre today?” Cassian asks Rhys, hoping to turn the focus off of him and Nesta.

“Will she be there?” Rhys fires back, the too innocent tone of his voice not convincing for a second.

Cassian rolls his eyes. “Why don’t you just ask for her hand already?”

“He already has,” Azriel offers, clearly listening in despite his eyes watching the passing landscape outside the window.

“You and my sister are engaged?” Nesta asks, sitting up in surprise.

Rhys clears his throat awkwardly, picking at the sleeve of his jacket. “She said no. Said she has no interest in being anyone's 'little housewife.'”

Cassian presses a hand to his mouth to try and stifle his laughter, but it does little to help, the sound still bubbling out of him. Rhys rolls his eyes at the reaction, clearly incensed by Feyre’s rejection, but that just spurs Cassian’s delight even more. “Serves you right. About time someone knocked you down a peg.”

“Don't worry. I'll get her to change her mind,” Rhys assures them with a smug smile, but then his eyes glance toward Nesta, toward the unimpressed ire on her face and that smile starts to slip. “In a gentlemanly fashion, of course.”

The carriage pulls to a stop in front of the church, and Rhys and Azriel slip out. Cassian follows behind his brothers, turning and holding his hand out in offering. Nesta’s palm slides against his, fingers curling around his hand, as she steps down. She’s even more beautiful in the golden light of the morning, the sun’s rays bouncing off her hair, brightening the lightness that’s settled so surely amongst the blues of her eyes in the past months. For a moment, Cassian’s struck dumb, merely staring at her while warmth floods through his chest.

“What?” Nesta asks quietly, her brows pinching in confusion as she blinks up at him.

“You’re just so beautiful,” Cassian explains easily, reaching up with his free hand and sliding the backs of his fingers down her temple, her cheek.

Color spills across her skin at the compliment, but her gaze softens all the same, the smallest hint of a smile breaking free from where she has her lips pressed together.

“Nesta! You made it.” Cassian and Nesta turn to watch Feyre rush down the front steps of the church, the youngest Archeron’s smile wide. When she comes to a stop in front of them, her eyes sweep over Nesta, her head tilting curiously. “Wow. You look…”

“Different, I know,” Nesta finishes, fiddling with the skirts of her dress and clearing her throat awkwardly.

Feyre reaches forward, taking Nesta’s hand in hers to stop her fidgeting and squeezing. “Happy.”

The sisters share a moment together, share soft smiles between them, before Cassian places his hand on the small of Nesta’s back, leaning in to remind her, “we should probably head inside, sweetheart.”

Nesta nods in agreement, and their little group heads up the church steps and into the atrium. While Feyre, Rhys, and Azriel continue on into the nave, Nesta pauses and takes a moment to breathe deeply, so Cassian stops too, keeping his hand on her back and drawing soothing circles. Despite all of her words of assurance, Cassian knows she’s been feeling anxious all week about seeing her mother today. Unsurprisingly, Eleanor Archeron hasn’t taken the time to visit them in Glasgow, hasn’t even taken the time to write to Nesta.

Nesta reaches her own hand back and gives his fingers a quick squeeze, and Cassian knows that she’s alright. He moves his arm so that he can offer it to her, and once Nesta’s hand is settled comfortably in the crook of his elbow, they continue forward into the nave of the church. Elain and Lucien are already waiting at the front of the church, so Cassian leads them to their place beside Lucien’s half brother, Eris.

The christening is fairly short and sweet, the Rector saying the respective prayers followed by Cassian, Nesta, and Eris repeating back the promises as godparents. The water is poured over baby Ash’s head, the candle lit and presented in his honor, and then the ceremony is ending. Afterwards, everyone is invited back to Helion’s grand estate to further celebrate, the lavish ballroom decked out, a large feast and music awaiting them.

Cassian presses a kiss to Nesta’s temple and walks across the ballroom to the refreshment table, leaving her in the very capable hands of Azriel. He finds Feyre standing there as well, and he offers her a small nod of acknowledgement as he grabs a glass for himself and one for Nesta.

“Feyre, darling,” Rhys greets, stepping over to them. “Might I have a dance with you today?”

“No, you may not,” Feyre tells him, turning away from him and taking a sip of her drink.

It takes all of Cassian’s willpower to swallow back down his laughter, and what chuckles do break free, he tries to cover up with a cough. Despite his best attempts at hiding his amusement, Rhys still knocks his shoulder against his as he stalks away. It’s only when the Duke is finally out of earshot that Cassian turns a pointed look back at Feyre, at the small, victorious smile gracing her lips.

“When are you finally going to put him out of his misery?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” Feyre tells him, tossing her braid back over her shoulder. “When are you going to host me for a visit in Glasgow?”

Cassian shakes his head at the subject change, but acquiesces all the same. “You know you’re always welcome. I’m sure Nes would appreciate it if you came and stayed.”

“Yes, I’m sure Nes would. Now if only she could allow anyone other than you calling her that.”

With a fond roll of her eyes, Feyre takes her drink and walks away, leaving just Cassian by the refreshment tables. His gaze sweeps across the ballroom until he finds who he’s looking for, Nesta now standing with Elain. She has Ash cradled in her arms, smiling softly down at him while the little boy clutches her finger in his hand.

Light music and chatter fills the space around him, but it all fades away to nothing. In that moment, Cassian can see it so clearly. Rather than a shock of red hair, it’s a head of dark curls like his. It’s a pair of stormy blue eyes. It’s a red MacLeod tartan that the baby is swaddled in. It’s the sound of bare feet running and light laughter filling the halls of the manor. It’s finding her curled up in her favorite library chair, reading bedtime stories. It’s going to sleep holding the only woman he’s ever loved and waking up to her sleepy smiles and a soft kiss for the rest of his life.

It’s everything he’s ever wanted, everything he’s ever dreamed about. But it’s not a dream. It’s a very real glimpse into a very real future, and Cassian isn’t sure how he’s even still breathing around the way his heart has swelled between his ribs, around the happiness that’s so firmly taken up root there. He can’t stop staring, can’t stop smiling, can’t stop the love that crashes and floods through his veins and leaves him breathless.

Who knew he’d be so happy to have ruined a wedding?

Baby, I didn’t say my vows. So glad you were around when they said ‘Speak now’

End spoilers/notes: Listen, were Elain and Lucien courting before The Wedding(tm)? Did Elain go running to Lucien after The Wedding(tm), raging about what Cassian did and how she's ruined now too? Crying about how what respectable gentleman would marry her now? Did she then decide to throw caution to the wind and demand Lucien kiss her because what did it matter now anyway if she was already ruined? Did that evening end with more than just a kiss? Did that lead to Elain being with child and Lucien being actually ecstatic because he's been trying to ask Elain to marry him this whole time? Who's to say ;) Also, will Rhysand volunteer himself to accompany Feyre on her journey to Glasgow to stay with her sister so she doesn't have to make the journey alone? Will that lead to his idiot self pining and many shenanigans? Who's to SAY ;)

—

Updated Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld @isterofimias @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @wolfnesta @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones @burningsnowleopard @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @ofduskanddreams @rarephloxes @thelovelymadone @girl-of-many-floods @tenaciousdiplomatloverprune @that-little-red-head

#nessian #CassianAppreciationWeek2023 #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acosf #nessian fanfiction #nessian fic #nesta x cassian #regency au #my fic

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lizzy-tudor · 1 year ago

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La Peregrina, A Queen Among Jewels Pear-shaped and weighing in at a magnificent 223.8 grains of 55.95 carats, Phillip II of Spain's wedding gift surpassed every fantasy his bride, the newly crowned Mary I of England, could have imagined. Baptized La Peregrina (an expression from the groom's native language meaning "female wanderer"), the brilliant pearl was delivered directly to the queen, its priceless value reflecting the inestimable importance that a marriage treaty between England and Spain represented at the time. Found on the coast of Panama in 1513 by an African slave, the pearl went down in history as a fine adornment much appreciated by royalty. In her well-known official portrait of 1554, Mary is depicted adorned with her wedding present, dangling from a bejeweled brooch on her chest. Queen Margaret, wife of Phillip III of Spain, wore it during celebrations of a peace treaty with the English in 1605. Two of the wives of Phillip IV of Portugal and Spain also had the privilege of wearing it — but the jewel would still pilgrimage through Europe and the world, and would end up not just under the possession of princesses and queens, but of other distinguished personalities. After the end of the 16th and 17th centuries, La Peregrina would be mentioned in the annals of history again only in 1813, when Joseph, brother of Napoleon Bonaparte, filched it along with a significant part of the Spanish Crown Jewels, in his flight from Spain back to France. After the fall of Napoleon in 1815, the pearl's new owner moved to the United States, where he would eventually die and leave it to his nephew, Charles Louis, the future Napoleon III. During his own exile, this time in England, the descendant of the Emperor of the French sold it to the second Duke of Abercorn, and it was actually during this period that the family heirloom received its infamous name. The pearl would remain in the Abercorn family for a century, being briefly lost by falling from its setting twice — first, disappearing between the cushions of a sofa in Windsor Castle; then, during a ball at Buckingham Palace. Fortunately, La Peregrina was found and returned to her owners in both occasions. In 1913 the jewel was cleaned and polished, and as a result, lost approximately 203 grams. Yet it still remains today the largest symmetrical pearl of its shape, and in 1969, after being auctioned at Sotheby's, it once again became a husband's gift to his wife. Richard Burton bought it for $37,000 for his wife, the iconic actress Elizabeth Taylor. Interestingly enough, Taylor decided to adorn her gift with a completely new design, one inspired by none other than the regal portrait of Mary I. Other smaller pearls, emeralds and rubies completed the piece, centering around the glorious Peregrina, now displayed as a Tudor styled choker.

#tudor history #tudor queens #tudor dynasty #history #culture #tudor era #mary i of england #mary tudor #elizabeth taylor #tudorqueens #history facts #queen mary i

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anonymoushouseplantfan · 2 years ago

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Episode 3

Meghan calls the engagement interview “an orchestrated reality show” during her own orchestrated reality show. Hilarious. These two deserve the Nobel Prize for Lack of Self-Awareness.

Cringe Diana montage. Royals acting “absolutely thrilled” about the engagement. Lol, Catherine’s face is epic.

Meghan complains they weren’t allowed to tell “their story” during the engagement interview. I get the feeling she really wanted to tell the world about the Call of Duty costumes and penguin onesies. Well, the world now knows, Meghan. We just wish we didn’t.

BTW, the engagement interview looks a lot less orchestrated than what they are doing now. The cozy space, the comfy sofa, and the sympathetic interviewer nodding along and validating all their bizarro statements (“I didn’t know much about him”) all make a huge difference.

Weird historical montage. Honestly baffled as to why they are spending time on this and not on Skippy’s wedding or the reaction to the Vanity Fair article. Yes, it’s the race card but you can play that card with the VF interview backlash and it’s a lot more relevant and relatable. The “objective” (not really) historical viewpoints break the rhythm and take the viewer out of the story. I have no idea why they are using them. Maybe they are trying to sell Netflix a historical documentary to follow up this one?

Talking about clothing. Pic of dress from June 2018 but they aren’t even married yet at that point. Dog still had its legs in casts then? Poor puppy.

Different Restoration Hardware showroom in 2021. New York City. Makeup artist dude and Archewell person who just quit. Harry has no idea what a royal correspondent is, which is honestly surprising. I knew he was dumb but I didn’t realize he was this dumb. The only journalist who just called himself a royal expert with no substance was Omid Scobie and that’s the guy they use.

Wait, was this the NY visit when they filmed the fake pap scene? Why didn’t the makeup artist pretend to be a pap? That would have made it more believable. C’mon makeup person. There’s no I in teamwork.

Complaining about the press…with Kate and Camilla’s headlines. Use your own headlines, cowards! Harry’s “their trauma is our narrative” quote is very amusing as he’s using the same strategy to sell his documentary. It reminds me of the old “when you fight the monsters you become a monster” concept. He claims to the the tabloids for exploiting his family, but he has effectively become a little exploitative tabloid, selling his family’s trauma to keep his wife in upscale yoga wear. A childhood friend says Meghan was never obsessed with Princess Diana. Girl, the past two episodes of this documentary strongly disagree with you.

Meghan complains about her mom’s family being quiet and classy and her dad’s family “acting differently.” She doesn’t seem to realize that she is a true Markle in this regard and she’s doing to the royals what her family did to her. The royals are being quiet and classy, and she’s “acting differently.”

Samantha’s daughter shows up. She doesn’t remember Samantha but she has a close relationship with her niece? They are a weird family. I do love the fact that Eugenie and Ashleigh are now token family members.

Princess Michael’s brooch. Racist art that is apparently not in any of the palaces. Unconscious bias. Harry clearly has no idea what the term means. Nazi uniform.

Sandringham is “like the big family I always wanted… with movement and energy and fun” which is not how anyone has ever described Sandringham. The Carolyn Bessette Kennedy cosplay was because she wanted to blend in. Oooookay. Kate’s Christmas coat was so epic.

Super awkward military visit they did in November 2021. They sound like entertainers and Harry’s clown act does not fit the US military culture. They get awards “for everything they do” which makes no sense. Royal military promo montage. again, with no acknowledgement that his soldier persona was crafted by the same tabloids he now rails against. The Daily Mail were the ones who created the “hero Harry” image just as they created his “African philanthropist” image when he was a teen.

Royal Foundation event. Isn’t blue a color? Pretty sure she’s wearing blue, and so is Kate. Lol, first time her divorce is mentioned, I think. Meghan jumps on the #MeToo bandwagon, just like she jumps on every press friendly movement. A journalist notes that Kate didn’t wear black to the Baftas and Camilla never mentioned #MeToo. Interesting that now, five years later, Kate has her big mom-oriented First Years project, Camilla’s charity work with women has grown and grown, and #MeToo has completely fizzled. Who has done more for women in past five years? The woman who jumped on the media bandwagon or the two stalwarts who focused on working with and building organizations?

I’d forgotten how bad she looked in the first engagements. Unkept hair, Ill-fitting clothes…but the tabloids still supported her at that point. Sandringham…poo emoji hat… She’s complaining that Julie Andrews didn’t tell her her hat looked like the poo emoji? Do you really need a protocol officer for that?

“Everything is just…smaller.” She clearly didn’t take her job seriously at all.

Fugly red dress fitting. Four Carolina Herrera employees helping her and she still looked awful. That takes real talent. Harry ask whether she has ever had four people help her into a dress.

She never wore color? I guess the purple and red monstrosity was just a bad dream. And didn’t she just show pics of the Royal Foundation forum where she and Kate both wore blue? That was five minutes ago, Meg! We haven’t forgotten it.

Of course you can wear the same color as the Queen. Lol, she just made up a protocol, right after complaining that the tabloids made up royal protocols. Seriously, who edited this documentary? She’s also wearing muted tones right now.

“I didn’t want to embarrass the family.” I’m confused. This was Sandringham before the wedding and she had just worn a $75k dress in her engagement pictures, but she claims she didn’t want her clothing to “embarrass the family”? She “didn’t want to stand out,” so she sent out engagement pics in a see-through, $75k dress with feathers?????!!!!! I need to rewatch this because I literally can’t believe this. “There is no version of me joining this family and not trying to do everything I could to fit in.” Girl, you dressed up as a burlesque performer and sent the pics to everyone. What are you talking about?

Samantha’s tweets are shown right after the “I don’t want to embarrass the family” comment. Yes, that.

BTW, no mention of a stay at Amner Hall or the “Fab Four” show of support.

She was “turtling”? She was sending out invites to Oprah and the Clooneys. That’s not exactly turtling. Lol, no mention of her “very meaningful” religious conversion she supposedly had during this time. Didn’t Charles supposedly give her a Birk’s bracelet as a present? No mention of that either.

The palace didn’t let invite her niece? Please, they were desperate to have any family at all show up. The niece who was practically a sister attending the wedding would have been a godsend…of course she would have had to be Maid of Honor and Jess couldn’t have that. This girl is pretty and Meg wasn’t going to risk a Pippa Middleton situation. Simple as that.

Serena Williams shows up sounding like a zombie.

Commonwealth Day. Weird “Commonwealth is evil” montage. Weren’t these two heads of the Queen’s Commonwealth Trust, and Youth Ambassadors? Didn’t Meghan add all the flowers of the Commonwealth to her veil? The Commonwealth wasn’t so evil then, was it? They don’t dare criticize the Queen directly so they bring in academics. Cowards. LOL, I googled one of the academics criticizing the “imperial” aspects of the nation and he literally has an Order of the British Empire. You can’t make this stuff up.

Stephen Lawrence murder memorial underscores that they abandoned this platform to sell tawdry gossip to Netflix.

Dad drama. Lol, she used her dad’s texts. Weird to bitch about dad selling pics to improve his public image when they are doing the same in this doc. “It’s amazing what people will do when offered a huge amount of money.” It sure is, Harry.

Dad picture story comes out. Lol, her agent admits he knew it was a set up when the book pic came out. They really should have done a better job briefing these people. They are giving her away right and left. The book pic came out April 4 and Harry and Meghan were pretending the pics weren’t set up and complaining to IPSO through mid-May. I gotta say, Meghan bitching about her father talking to TMZ is hilarious given that she did a two hour Oprah interview and she’s now doing an entire documentary.

This whole scene explaining why they didn’t confront Thomas feels very fake. I bet they have repeated this song and dance many times in front of the Royal Family. Tom Bower confirmed that they were summoned to Castle Mey to discuss the dad drama so my guess about that was right.

“You’re not picking up my calls and are instead talking to TMZ.” I’m dying. They did the same thing with Oprah. BTW, I’m pretty sure they had to pay TMZ for this footage and TMZ was the outfit that first published Harry’s naked Vegas pics, which have not been mentioned in the documentary yet. If you’d told me ten years ago that someday Harry would be paying royalties to TMZ I wouldn’t have believed you. Yet, here we are.

Very weird episode. They could have focused on their charity work, connecting it to the events they did before the wedding—minority neighborhoods, women’s issues, Stephen Lawrence, Commonwealth meetings etc… and they instead chose to use those events to cast the royal family as racist and imperial. And the supposedly imperial aspects of the family—the Commonwealth, Africa, the Caribbean—were the ones they were going to work in. It’s a very odd position for the heads (or ex-heads) of the Queen’s Commonwealth Trust to take.

The new spin on the dad story is also very strange. The fact that they never visited him and broke all contact with him after the pics made a tiny bit of sense when he was portrayed as a greedy asshole, but the new spin is that he was manipulated by the evil tabloids who took his phone, didn’t let him call his family and then texted his daughter pretending to be him. That doesn’t make him a villain. It makes him a victim. She has spent three hours demonizing the tabloids and now she says they basically kidnapped her sick, elderly father….and she just shrugs it off? It’s bizarre.

No comment from husband other than to say the niece was cute and the red dress was ugly. Group chat agrees the dress was ugly and she's doing the same thing her dad was doing. Much typing about whether we are supposed to think the poo emoji article was racist and whether navy blue is a different color than just plain blue.

On to the next episode.

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royalpain16 · 2 years ago

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Floral Tiara - Maybe Princess Catherine will be wearing this tiara

The Strathmore Rose Tiara, or Queen Elizabeth’s Strathmore Tiara, was a gift to Lady Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon from her father, the Earl of Strathmore, for her 1923 wedding to the Duke of York, the future King George VI. The tiara features a garland of wild roses in diamonds mounted in silver and gold and was purchased for the future Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother at a London jeweler; it dates from the late nineteenth century. The pavé-set diamond roses could be used as individual brooches, and – at least originally – could be swapped out for five single-collet sapphires, according to The Queen’s Diamonds

When a tiara disappears into the vault for so long, rumors and speculation tend to arise. In particular, there’s a rumor that the Strathmore Rose is in such poor condition or so fragile that it can’t be worn. I do not know the source of that suggestion and it may simply be speculation taken as fact; what we do know is that the tiara has been photographed alone a few times in recent decades and, obviously, the Queen has jewelers to fix things if that’s really what is needed or desired. (The Grand Duchess Vladimir Tiara, for example, had its frame repaired multiple times during the Queen’s reign and was eventually remade in the 1980s.) Personally, I hope the Strathmore Rose Tiara will reappear someday – if for no other reason than to satisfy our curiosity.

- order of splendor (blogspot)

#Strathmore rose tiara #Tiaras #strathmore #floral tiara #order of splendor #floral headpiece

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prententiousjackal · 6 months ago

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Been mourning the wedding I could never have.

There were no Mormon weddings on TV so I modeled my future temple wedding off of other christian weddings. I thought temples would be similar on the inside to church-houses, that there'd be a chapel to wed in, husband and wife would exchange personal vows or use something similar to the conventional christian cookie cutter vows only without the "death till we part" rhetoric because temple marriage would be forever. I thought there'd be chapel's worth amount of people attending. I thought the bride could wear a nice flowing dress and the groom could wear a black suit.

Knowing that temple weddings were supposed to be indoors, kids can't attend and that temple weddings were supposed to be for marriage forever were the only major differences I knew of at first.

I remember as a kid getting angry at the show Caillou for a wedding episode where some couple had their wedding outdoors and Caillou was allowed to attend despite being a little kid. I'd watch Spiderman 2 and shame Peter Parker for suggesting Mary Jane be married outdoors.

Then I went on Temple Open Houses and saw pictures of the sealing room to realize it was nothing like a chapel. But the infinity mirror was cool and I readjusted my expectations, but still sometimes forgetting and gravitating toward that chapel wedding image.

Then I went to temples for baptisms for the dead a few times. I hated it. I was so ill prepared. I felt scared to ask questions in fear of breaking some holy silence. I'd get confused on where the group was. It was very disorienting. And I didn't get to see any part of the temple that I didn't need to see for what I was doing. I didn't want to feel unprepared again and curiosity got the best of me so I found explanations of the rest of the temple online. And it all too ridiculous and different from what I imagined.

I feel like I was raised in a totally different religion that's been taken away from me. People want to convert to this brand new religion of the temple that was nothing like what I wanted. My dreams of nice suits and dresses are broken. It's such a betrayal.

People really expect me to pay 10% of my income for this? Tithing didn't seem like much as a kid when you didn't actually have to care about money, but now I realize how much it is. The temple is the most expensive wedding venue, even individual invitees need to pay for entry, it has a low occupancy so not many people could attend anyway and it's absolutely butt ugly. Not worth it. 0/10

I feel like I can't love someone. Not just because I'm a shy friendless anti-social wreck. But also because I don't want to face the expectations of temple marriage and I don't want my partner to be made to feel like they're driving a wedge between my and my family. I wouldn't want them to be preached to and blamed for not wanting a temple marriage either. Sometimes I wonder if it'd be easier to become partners with a man or a trans person than with a cis-woman. It'd burn bridges so quick. No one would expect us to get married in the stupid temple.

Had all these thoughts stuck in my head in an incoherent song. I imagine it starting out like something solemn you'd hear at a wedding before turning into pop music. So I got some cheesy lyrics with the most boring rhyme schemes and some songs I'd steal and mix melodies from, in my mind.

I thought I’d be married in a suit Surrounded by everyone I knew She’d be wearing a dress so white As I stared down that endless hall into her eyes ... But now I know it can not happen I think I was raised in a different faith Now they’re trying to convert me to a new religion Never thought this would be my fate ... Can you see me in a suit kneeling at the altar? I thought my faith would never falter. ... Misleading photos in magazines, But not a single wedding on TV. Thought the temple walls was just a canopy, But now I know what I wasn’t supposed to see. ... Brooches of flowers, reduced down to leaves. Rainbows of colors, now just white and green. ... My chapel shrunk into a tiny chamber. My entry list saw friends as strangers. ... If there’s such a thing as a life hereafter. You don’t need a building to be together forever.

#exmormon #exmo #mypost #Spotify

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apilgrimpassingby · 4 days ago

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Magic School Masterpost

As some of you may know, I've been developing a fictional magic school for a while now and sharing it with you. Hence, today I'm going to make a whole post to put it all together in one place and adding some new content. This will be long, so I'm inserting a "keep reading" bit. Tagging @merthwyn, @arcenciel-par-une-larme, @cryptidsaints - the people most involved in it, so you can see this, and my regulars - @idylls-of-the-divine-romance, @cactusflowerfemme, @rebelnurse, @roses-red-and-pink - for your views on this project now it's done.

The school is divided into twelve sub-schools, and each sub-school is located on a mountaintop, collectively forming a circle of mountains, with a common space between them where students from all schools can meet. Each mountain has its own magically-generated microclimate, and so every student has a cloak used for warmth or cool and on formal occasions.

Magical training is divided into three stages. The first stage (which most often starts at the age of seven, but can start later) lasts three years, and consists of the 101 of their magic system. The next stage lasts seven years, and consists of learning more advanced stuff and discovering the trainee's strengths and weaknesses. The third stage lasts nine years, and consists of being apprenticed to a magician who can help you develop your specialties. When this stage is over, they go through a coronation ceremony where their master touches each shoulder with an implement and then crowns them. It is not compulsory to complete the full nineteen years; someone can leave after the first stage, or after the second stage, or during the third stage. Due to the highly personalised nature of these regimens, there is considerable flexibility in how long it takes – the time spans given are ideals, and actual training may be markedly longer or markedly shorter.

Each school has a "heart book", the most crucial book to each discipline. For the most part, only teachers read these books - students read extracts of and commentaries on them.

Alchemists are located in a steampunk-style castle atop a mountain covered in birch woods, and they have an aviary of phoenixes. Alchemists wear bright orange robes with deep purple trim and brown leather aprons, and have bright orange cloaks with deep purple trim held in place with a flask-shaped brooch, made of amber with bronze fittings. The basic alchemical implement is a flask, containing a mix of molten metal and quicklime. The alchemists have springs of metallic water, coloured blue (by copper), red (by iron) or yellow (by sulphur), which often bubble and occasionally spurt upwards. The mountain is magically locked in perpetual autumn. Alchemists teach and write their books in Arabic, they write their documents in papyrus codices, and their heart book is The Elemental Wedding, which burns whatever touches it; hence, people have to handle it with leather gloves and keep it on a stone platform. The crown they use is a bronze and amber crown in the shape of two phoenixes entwined together, and the coronation implement is a bronze staff topped with a glass bulb containing mercury.

Personality: Vague douchiness and an aura of science-flavoured arrogance; a lot of them get very uptight about calling what they do "magic" and instead call it "the prince of sciences".

Unofficial Theme Song: "Mirror, Mirror" by Blind Guardian

Conjurers are located in a giant pyramid atop a mountain covered in ancient-Egyptian-style gardens, and they have a living sphinx who patrols the base. Conjurers wear yellow robes with bronze trim and sacred ibis quills worn in the hair, and have yellow cloaks with bronze trim held in place with a scroll-shaped brooch, made of yellow topaz with gold fittings. The basic conjuring implement is the quill, plus papyrus and red and black ink. The conjurers' mountain isn't a mountain - it's a colossal terraced garden topped by a giant pyramid. The mountain is magically locked in perpetual heat. Conjurers teach and write their books in Ancient Egyptian, they write their documents on papyrus scrolls, and their heart book is the Scrolls of the Sun, which speed up the motions of the sun in the location where they are read. The crown they use is like the one in the Mask of Tutankhamen, and the coronation implement is an ivory rod carved in the shape of a snake.

Personality: The most social of all of them, particularly with regards to romance - if you're dating someone outside of your school, it's almost always a conjurer.

Unofficial Theme Song: "Caravanserai" by Loreena McKennitt

Cunning folk are located in a series of blackhouses atop a mountain covered in forests of rowan trees and sheep-filled moors, and they have a population of spriggans who like pranking students. Cunning folk wear fawn robes with blue-grey trim and fawn-coloured wizard hats, and have fawn cloaks with blue-grey trim held in place with a cat-shaped brooch, made of tiger’s eye with bronze fittings. The basic cunning implement is a crystal ball, used in conjunction with tallow candles and a cauldron. The cunning folk’s mountain has wells that turn anything thrown into it to stone. The mountain is magically locked in perpetual moderate weather. Cunning folk teach and write their books in Old Norse, they do not write their books but instead transmit their teachings orally (with the exception of their heart book), and their heart book is The Long-Lost Friend, which turns into a ferret, hare or other hard-to-catch animal if a person without magic picks it up. The crown is a wool cap adorned with wolfsbane flowers and numerous ribbons with incantations written on them, and the coronation implement is walking stick of yew carved with pentangles, witch marks and other such symbols.

Personality: Raw unfiltered blue-collar attitude, with all the implied positives and negatives.

Unofficial Theme Song: "Souling Song" by the Watersons

Illusionists are located in a Baroque Revival mansion atop a mountain covered in 19th century urban structures, and they have apparitions of various white animals (rabbits, doves, stags, etc.) that talk to people before vanishing. Illusionists wear dark purple robes with black trim and wrist-length white gloves, and have dark purple cloaks with black trim held in place with a rabbit-shaped brooch, made of amethyst with gold fittings. The basic illusionist implement is a black-and-white baton, used in conjunction with a top hat and a deck of cards. The illusionists’ mountain has mirrors in which the person’s reflection will only show in a different mirror, and hence can be used for long-distance communication if mirrors can be paired up. The mountain is magically locked in perpetual dawn. Illusionists teach and write their books in French, they write their documents on decks of cards, and their heart book is Seven Wings and Seven Eyes, which makes things appear, disappear and reappear around the reader. The crown is a top hat adorned with lace and purple ribbon and made of fine velvet, and the coronation implement is a knotted scarf printed with numerous brilliant colours and designs.

Personality: Very witty, very athletic, very well-read and impossibly arrogant, but if you earn their respect they'll give it to you.

Unofficial Theme Song: "Magic Man" by Heart

Mystics are located in a wooden monastery atop a mountain covered in frozen waterfalls and snowy trees, and they have a yeti who hides in the forest. Mystics wear turquoise robes with light green trim and uncut matted hair, and have turquoise cloaks with light green trim held in place with a bent-spoon-shaped brooch, made of turquoise with silver fittings. The basic mystical implement is a telekinetically bent spoon. The mystics' yeti is very reclusive and hard to find, except at the start of each year, when he pays new students on the head, the end of it, when he waves goodbye to graduating students, and when someone's lost on the mountain, in which case he carries them up to the monastery. The mountain is magically locked in perpetual winter. Mystics teach and write their books in Sanskrit, they write their documents on birch bark codices, and their heart book is The Uncreated Light, whose text reads slightly differently for everyone who reads it. The crown is their hair being cropped (the first haircut in years), and the coronation implement is a traveller's staff.

Personality: Reserved. They, like their mountain, are a little cold and unlikely to get involved with others, but they're polite and friendly nonetheless. They're don't consider themselves above the world, just separate from it.

Unofficial Theme Song: "The Mystic's Dream" by Loreena McKennitt

Necromancers are located in catacombs amidst a mountain covered in mausoleums, gravestones etc. and willow and yew trees, and they have a pack of hellhounds who act as class pets. Necromancers wear light grey robes with white trim and grey lace veils, and have light grey cloaks with white trim held in place with a skull-shaped brooch, made of moonstone with silver fittings. The basic necromantic implement is a candle, used in conjunction with a mirror and bowl of water. If you sit next to any of the graves on the necromancers' mountain long enough, you start to hear wails from beneath the earth and blue lights on the mountainside. The mountain is magically locked in perpetual grey cloud. Necromancers teach and write their books in Greek, they write their documents on slates and stone tablets, and their heart book is The Apocryphon of the Grave, which reads like depressing mumbo-jumbo - unless the reader has seen someone die, in which case it reads as quietly comforting wisdom. The crown is a floor-length veil with extensive and ornate embroidery, and the coronation implement is a femur bone with spells carved on it.

Personality: Most of them won't talk to you because they're shy; the remainder don't talk to you because they think you're beneath them. Either way, they get pretty talkative with ghosts.

Unofficial Theme Song: "The Unquiet Grave" by Karliene Reynolds

Observers are located in a giant observatory atop a mountain covered in dark pine woods, and they have a mothman who swoops around the trees. Observers wear light blue robes with silver trim and silver goggles with blue glass lenses, and have light blue cloaks with silver trim held in place with a flying-saucer-shaped brooch, made of aquamarine with silver fittings. The basic observational implement is a telescope, used in conjunction with a telescope and notepad. Every new year's eve, a hail of meteorites in every colour falls over the observers' mountain. The mountain is magically locked in perpetual night (for stargazing). Observers teach and write their books in English, they write their documents in paper notebooks with exposed binding, and their heart book is the Astral Journals, which make readers feel like they are floating off the floor. The crown is a helmet decorated with wiring, cogs and so on, and the coronation implement is a telescoping aerial.

Personality: Pallid sickly nerds who get extremely energetic and enthusiastic if you ask them about their latest project.

Unofficial Theme Song: "Calling Occupants of Interplanetary Craft" by the Carpenters

Occultists are located in a bastion of slime-dripping cyclopean masonry atop a mountain covered in blasted heaths and bogs of toads and fireflies, and they have a shoggoth deep in a cave to whom the rubbish is fed. Occultists wear medium green robes with dark blue trim and silver rings with the bezel decorated with interlocking rings, and have medium green cloaks with dark blue trim held in place with a tentacle-shaped brooch, made of peridot with silver fittings. The basic occultic implement is a black soapstone pyramid statuette carved with symbols, used in conjunction with an iron key bearing the same symbols and a spellbook. The occultists’ mountain has monoliths with writing that no-one has ever been able to translate or even transcribe. The mountain is magically locked in perpetual dusk. Occultists teach and write their books in Proto-Oceanic, they write their documents on various mediums disguised to look like mundane books, and their heart book is the Secret Book of Hassan, which causes nightmares and hallucinations for weeks after in whoever reads it. The crown is a diadem made of gold decorated with images of sea monsters, and the coronation implement is a staff of dark wood with silver tentacles curling around it and a round silver head with multiple eyes and tentacles coming from it.

Personality: Difficult to get to like due to their love of morbid and gruesome things and very dark sense of humour, but very likeable once acquainted with.

Unofficial Theme Song: "Awake Ye Scary Great Old Ones" by the Dagon Tabernacle Choir

Shamans are located in a treetop village atop a mountain covered in jungle, and they get up to and down from the villages by means of griffins. Shamans wear dark green robes with bronze trim and light green face paint in variable patterns, and have dark green cloaks with bronze trim held in place with a vine-shaped brooch, made of emerald with bronze fittings. The basic shamanic implement is a staff, decorated with eagle feathers and bones. Students are strictly forbidden from walking on the jungle floor without a teacher accompanying them, due to the presence of a chupacabra population. The mountain is magically locked in perpetual heat and rain. Shamans teach and write their books in Classical Mayan, they write their documents in palm-leaf manuscripts, and their heart book is the Hymn to the World Tree, which cannot be written down - it must be spoken or sung. The crown is a headdress centred on an eagle skull adorned with eagle, raven, hoopoe and parrot feathers, and the coronation implement is a staff decorated with vines of ayahuasca, peyote and other psychoactive plants.

Personality: If you have a high tolerance for bugs and fungi and catch them when they're not high on ayahuasca or peyote or something like that, they're great people.

Unofficial Theme Song: "Kvitravn" by Wardruna

Sorcerers are located in a huge black tower atop a mountain covered in ash and dead trees, and they have a dragon in a cave on the mountainside. Sorcerers wear black robes with dark red trim and hoods, and have black cloaks with dark red trim held in place with a dragon-shaped brooch, made of ruby with bronze fittings. The basic sorcerous implement is a sacrificial knife, used in conjunction with blood and a grimoire. Every so often on the sorcerers' mountain, the earth shakes, smoke and sulphur issue forth, growls are heard, the side of the mountain opens - and the newly-hatched baby dragon flies away. The mountain is magically locked in a perpetual thunderstorm. Sorcerers teach and write their books in Latin, they write their documents in paper codices, and their heart book is The Pit Opened, which will place a curse on whoever reads it unless the book is given blood. The crown is an iron circlet decorated with garnets, and the coronation implement is black sword with a guard carved from garnet in the shape of a dragon.

Personality: Most of them are some flavour of bully, save for the minority who are dedicated bully-fighters.

Unofficial Theme Song: "Hellhounds of the Deep" by Karliene Reynolds

Witches are located in a cute village of cottages atop a mountain covered in oak, beeches and streams, and they have a stable of unicorns. Witches wear medium pink robes with violet trim and crowns of roses and violets (magically kept fresh), and have medium pink cloaks with violet trim held in place with a rose-shaped brooch, made of pink diamond with gold fittings. The basic witchcraft implement is a wand decorated with yew leaves and rose stems. The witches' mountain has circles of mushrooms which, if you step in them, you will instantly fall asleep, and later wake up feeling exceptionally refreshed, plus any minor injuries or illnesses gone. The mountain is magically locked in perpetual spring. Witches teach and write their books in Gaelic, they write their documents on beech-wood tablets, and their heart book is The Book of Spring, which makes roses grow wherever it is placed, even sterile environments. The crown is a flower crown incorporating hawthorn blossoms, foxglove, primrose and vervain as well as roses and violets, and the coronation implement is a golden sickle with a rose wrapped around a blade.

Personality: Hippies, both of the sweet nature-lover kind and the holier-than-thou environmentalist kind.

Unofficial Theme Song: "The Mummer's Dance" by Loreena McKennitt

Wizards are located in a Romanesque abbey complex atop a mountain covered in herb gardens, and they have apparitions of seraphim. Wizards wear white robes with gold trim and cloth-of-gold stoles, and have white cloaks with gold trim held in place with a dove-shaped brooch, made of pearl with gold fittings. The basic wizarding implement is a censer burning incense, used in conjunction with a holy book. The wizards' mountain has a massive library of non-magical books carved inside it, accessed only by various secret passages inside the abbey and its outbuildings. The mountain is magically locked in perpetual summer. Wizards teach and write their books in Hebrew, they write their documents in parchment codices, and their heart book is The Apocalypse of Ephraim, which makes the reader see golden wings and hear otherworldly music - initially at the edges of vision and hearing, but gradually getting closer. The crown is an Eastern mitre, and the coronation implement is a gilded shepherd's crook.

Personality: Really nice selfless people who want to help others but with a tendency to be patronising to non-wizards, especially those without magic.

Unofficial Theme Song: "Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence" by the Choir of Somerville College

Views of Each Other

Alchemists: Look down on most people for being superstitious, but have a protective big brother attitude towards witches (witchcraft is very much a female-dominated field, while alchemy is decidedly male-dominated) and a positive relationship with observers due to their shared scientific approach

Conjurers: Try to be on friendly (if not affectionate) terms with everyone, though they resent necromancers for refusing to talk to them and mystics for insisting on being celibate and dislike sorcerers the way most people do.

Cunning Folk: Good friends with witches and shamans due to a love of nature, but dislike alchemists due to their association with science, absolutely loathe observers due to their obsession with progress and change, and hate illusionists for their snobbery; that rivalry is the most intense in the school.

Illusionists: Tend to be snotty towards everyone, but are pretty much the only people who get on with sorcerers (they agree that arrogance and jerkishness are good qualities) and have a particularly intense hatred of cunning folk as a bunch of rustics playing at magic.

Mystics: Usually too busy meditating to deal with things like social relationships, but like the wizards who agree to leave them alone and will sometimes bond with witches over listening to birds or watching the dawn.

Necromancers: Please just leave us alone. Please. We're quite happy talking to ghosts.

Observers: Spend most of their time either locked away doing magic or gushing about their research and so don't have much by way of friendships, but do compare lab notes with the science-minded alchemists. They mostly find the cunning folk's despising of them confusing; why would anyone not want to get on board with science?

Occultists: Love shamans for being as morbid as themselves, would love necromancers for the same reason if they could persuade necromancers to talk to the living and dislike wizards and sorcerers for being too self-important; they prank both of them a lot.

Shamans: Usually too busy talking with machine elves to talk with others, but love cunning folk for their practical attitude towards nature and occultists for their appreciation for morbidity, and loathe alchemists for being the embodiment of industry.

Sorcerers: For the most part (illusionists being the exception), they hate everyone and everyone hates them, but sorcerers who push back against the bad behaviour of the rest of their school become very popular very quickly.

Witches: Get on well with alchemists (they see themselves as having a brother-sister relationship), sometimes bond with mystics over appreciating nature and have a love-hate relationship with sorcerers. Look down on shamans as the mentally unstable version of themselves and observers for being too technological, and dislike sorcerers the way pretty much everyone does.

Wizards: Aspire to be a hero to everyone and see everyone in the best possible light; whether this means they get viewed as good people or disliked for being patronising largely depends on the individual. They do, however, have a mutual die-hard rivalry with sorcerers.

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