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canyourfavesurvivecastledracula · 2 months

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Okay, so might have been asked before, but Bruce Wayne.

Not Batman. Just Bruce Wayne, little to no tech, Brucie persona in full swing...maybe he's there for some really weird gala or something and is now stuck and doesn't want to blow his cover.

@beabaseball asked:

Would Bruce Wayne (Batman) survive Count Dracula? He's scared of bats!! :(

@goldenzingy46 asked:

could batman survive castle dracula? (either in costume or out of it)

@major-knighton asked:

Could Batman survive Castle Dracula?

Anonymous asked:

I'm sure this has probably been asked, but I couldn't find it via blog search. Could Batman survive Castle Dracula? (Any iteration, with or without Batfam members.)

Ahahahahaha Brucie Wayne, billionaire playboy and Gotham's favoritest darling himbo. Yes good!

I gotta tag @unpretty in this. We all know tumblr batman is the best batman.

As to beabaseball's concern: poor Brucie! He is so afraid of bats! Fortunately for him, Dracula does all his bad batting about in England - he doesn't actually shapeshift at any point in the Castle, presumably for the same reasons he's presenting as Old AF and climbing his own walls like a lizard. Maybe some exceptionally rich blood will help him out with that actually. And for what it's worth, Jonathan does not describe any natural bats frequenting Castle Dracula either. There's nothing alive in the Castle (the wolves, of course, being Outside the Castle). Now would he count things like bats and vermin? He describes the womens' quarters as moth-eaten, so there must be like...moths. (Unless Dracula Did That I suppose). But I am not sure whether that tells us there could be bats and they just weren't worth mentioning, or that there aren't bats because if there were they would have eaten the moths.

I am going to say that there are no bats of any kind at Castle Dracula, so poor Brucie won't have his childhood trauma triggered in that way. I'm sure watching a mother get devoured by wolves won't- yeah.... he's not gonna like this. Sorry Bruce buddy you're in the Dying Parents novel. Whoopsie daisy.

Look there are reasons why Brucie is Gotham's favorite idiot son. He's a good boy. Of course he accepts the crucifix - it's for his mother's sake! Being given a lot of flowers is nothing unusual for him but he accepts them graciously as well. He tips the coachman handsomely (the coachman turns a little green at accepting his money, but Mr Wayne is just so earnest and, he rationalizes it later, it's not like the doomed young man is going to have any further use for it...), and Dracula's Calèche driver as well. He's so sloshed on Slivovitz by the time they get to the Castle (impressive since the bottle appears not to have been opened) that he tries to tip him in real silver (lol classic Brucie having no idea of the value of things - where did he even get that?). He even tries to tip Dracula when he answers the door, presuming him to be the butler. (No, it is late and my servants have all gone to bed. Really? My butler keeps such consistent round-the-clock hours that the tabloids keep asking me if he's a vampire, haha, but I guess he's something special).

On that note, this strange nighttime existence is nothing that out of the ordinary for the billionaire playboy lifestyle. Brucie frequently sleeps in till 2 under normal circumstances - it's not like he needs to get up early to drive his kids to school, he has drivers for that (no one is really sure if Brucie even knows how to drive). Dracula actually finds it a little off-putting how blithely cheerful he remains, almost as if he too is a creature of the night who cares little for the bright voluptuousness of youth ... or maybe he's just that dumb. When Dracula tried to sneak up on him making his toilet he found him actually trying to put his trousers on backwards (and turning around so much in the effort that the sneaking up was harder than Dracula anticipated - Brucie awkwardly explains that his butler usually dresses him, leaving Dracula morbidly fascinated about how he's even alive still).

I... am not sure how the shaving scene goes. I shouldn't think he would startle enough to cut himself. Or might he cut himself on purpose just to see how Dracula reacts? If Dracula makes a grab for his throat dies he blow him a kiss and say "buy me a drink first, darling" ? Did he pack extra shaving mirrors, making Dracula go :/ and consider stealing his stuff early?

Dracula retires muttering each morning "is he as stupid as he seems?? Nobody could be as stupid as he seems..." But he invites him to stay another month and write some fake letters and Brucie is like "who me?? My secretary writes my letters I wouldn't know how to begin" and Dracula has no idea what to do with that. Climbing the walls doesn't bother him, he's from Gotham, people climbing about on walls is your typical Tuesday. In fact, nothing Dracula does seems to get to him and it's getting really frustrating. At one point Dracula cautiously asks him why he's so chill and he's just like "oh you know it's not so different from home, only there we've got this evil clown that murders people. Well that's what they say at least. But my ward Dick, you know, he came from the circus? And apparently murdering people is against the Clown Code so, between you and me, I don't think he exists." And Dracula's just sitting there like "wait what" but also "that doesn't follow at all and I am fascinated by how your brain works" and because Dracula's a cocky SOB he's like "so you don't believe in evil clowns but do you believe in vampires?" And Brucie is like "well everyone says the Batman is a vampire but personally I think the news media made him up like Bigfoot and Armadillos." And Dracula's just like ...wat.

Brucie definitely ends up in the ladies' wing (it's amazing where that man randomly ends up. He gets lost on the way to the bathroom. Maybe he genuinely thought it was his own room). Is he sleeping... or only pretending to? Either way the Girlies aren't the first Femme Fatales to have him under their spell (he's been hypnotized so much...) - but on the other hand he's probably still wearing the crucifix. I don't think that will interrupt the trance though, which might before the best because child death is one of the things he's sensitive about. Dracula carries him back to his room and is like "dang is it just the fact that I've been fasting or is this soft socialite built like a brickhouse???"

So I think Bruce would know better than to remove the crucifix, as I've said, and I also think he'd figure out a way to set an hourly alarm on his watch to break him out of future trances - but does he have the data to figure out the sonic component based just on May 16th or does he need the barking dogs on June 24th as well. I would be willing to give him the possibility of actually being able to understand the Hetman, and also putting together that the people camped out in Dracula's courtyard are probably working for Dracula. Does this mean he won't try to send coded letters - or that he will try, to find out if they get passed to Dracula?

.......okay I don't think he's going to let Dracula get away with going into town with his babysnatching sack. I think when he sees that he's going to act. (Now obviously no one is going to mistake Dracula for him even wearing his suits because the butts don't match). So what does he do? Does he follow him?? Like, I am confident in his ability to make it down the wall even without a grappling hook. He's a whole ninja after all. The Girlies are like ....wait where'd he go? I actually don't know how Dracula effects his babysnatching. I think the funniest option I'd for Bruce (master of disguise) to dress up in Dracula's things (you know how he loves a good cape) and go frighten the villagers first so that they're on high alert when Dracula turns up and he can't find any babies to snatch. I don't know how he could get there first though. His best option is to tail Dracula and then sabotage his efforts by like... knocking over trashcans and things. I dunno. This has kinda gotten away from me.

Okay so assuming he succeeds... what does Dracula do if he can't get a baby? He's got some very opinionated mouths to feed. Maybe he's finally had enough and is like "fine, you can eat the himbo, I'm leaving in a week anyway" and the Girlies are like "so... about that... we tried while you were out (what!?) and he's not here" and Dracula is like "what do you mean he's not here there's nowhere for him to go" and they go and search and find him lounging on something reading the Bradshaw's Guide upside down. And he's like "oh yeah I'm thinking of buying a railroad" and Dracula's like ".......that's upside down" and Brucie is just like "ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh that makes so much more sense thanks <3"

Regarding the wolves I... don't think Bruce would choose the Certain Death option. He's got all those kids. (Sadly I can't see a way for him to get Free Baby out of this - maybe it's for the best). And afterwards maybe he stows away in one of those dirt boxes... although if he follows Dracula on the 24th does he ever find the dirt boxes? Eh, he's a brilliant detective, of course he finds them.

Anyway, yes, I do think Batman Brucie Wayne, himbo of Gotham can survive Castle Dracula

(Incidentally I personally believe that Batman does have a superpower and it's Environmental Empathy. Dracula's like ...wtf I didn't order these thunderstorms)

#batman #bruce wayne #brucie wayne #tumblr batman #superheroes #aristocrats #detectives #ninjas

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kingoftheu · 4 months

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Arms I made up for Jane Roland (and later Emily’s) Ducal House. Roland’s titles are never mentioned in the books, but I have her created Duchess of Carmarthen. Carmarthen was a major center in Wales prior to industrialization. It is meant something of an insult from the government because the Welsh are icky, just like women and aviators. The Rolands, naturally, do not care one bit and rather take a liking to the place. Most estates they are awarded are in England, however. They do not currently have a seat because they have dragons to fly. Might get some subsidiary titles (maybe something named for Scotland near Loch Laggan) so that Emily can be a Countess.

The dragon is not a perfect longwings, but it is blue, and holding a grenade to symbolize the guns and bombs. Four yellow stripes on green for an Admiral of the Air. Golden Laurels for Victory. A ducal coronet above. Jane is extremely mad that the College of Arms said she couldn’t swear in her motto, and refuses to use Latin or French until someone suggests “Excidium.” The dragon himself is quite pleased with this, although wishes his portrait was better. But the poor College of Arms people are already so sad about his hastily put together arms that Jane just left it.

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ancientorigins · 10 days

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The remains of a high-status Roman woman and a child in a lead coffin found in a cemetery including both Roman and Anglo-Saxon burials in Northern England offer a fascinating glimpse into burial practices and the historical period's complex social structure.

#burial #Roman #aristocrats #Yorkshire #Saxon #cemetery

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serenexdreams · 1 year

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FLOWER FROM AFAR | YANDERE! KAMISATO AYATO X READER | PT 1

Part. 1 Part. 2

IN TEYVAT'S BEGINNER GUIDE TO GROWING FLOWERS, it cites that all native flowers flourish and bloom in their respective regions of birth--rarely away from home, do they choose to open their buds and blossom.

Kamisato Ayato had believed, for a very long time, that the flower unwillingly plucked and thrust to his side had withered. However, he was pleased to find that was not the case.

A DOWNCAST, OBEDIENT GAZE. Neatly combed strands of hair entwined backwards into a traditional Inazuman-style bun; pinned up by deep blue chrysanthemums. A delicate, snowy white kimono draped over your poised figure, embroidered with a flowery azure blue print.

Ayato's pale violet eyes drilled holes into your skull, silently observing your every move. The rich, comforting scent of matcha tea wafted through the air, as you brewed the hot liquid. Apathy clouded your (E/C) eyes, rendering your emotions unreadable. A faint spark of interest ignited within Ayato, as he calmly watched you bend forward, pouring him a cup of tea.

Had it not been for your unnaturally sharp facial structure, and (H/C) hair that stuck out like a sore thumb, you could have easily passed as any common Inazuman noblewoman. But these distinct features were easy to tell apart from a crowd; they screamed of Monstadt. Of the fact that you were a foreigner.

"...My lord, your tea is ready." Ayato was snapped out of his thoughts, gaze flitting to the cup of tea you offered him. "Please be careful, for it is quite hot."

Ayato took a sip. The refreshing, almost bitter taste instantly woke him up. A faint smile curved across his lips. "Your tea-brewing skills have improved since you arrived, dearest. I take it that you've learned from an expert--perhaps Ayaka?"

"Yes. Lady Ayaka was gracious enough to educate me on the process." You made no attempt at conversation, as an awkward silence stretched out between the two of you.

Nine months. It had been nine months, since you had been shipped overseas, like a bag of cargo--only to be wed off to the distant, elusive Yashiro Commissioner sitting in front of you. The only time you both had interacted, was during the engagement ceremony, the wedding reception, and the brief kiss you had shared during the vows. So what was he doing here?

You discreetly gulped down the bitter tea, tongue protesting in pain, as a searing hot sensation rushed down your throat. You held in a cough, retaining your composure. "...My lord, is there anything that you require of me? I believe I requested that you simply send a servant instead of personally coming to me. I understand that you are bu-"

"Is it wrong of me to want to visit my dear wife? I hold my family quite close to my heart." Ayato smoothly replied, taking a sip from his teacup. "I haven't visited you in a while, nor had a proper conversation in ages. I missed you."

You internally cringed at the unnatural, sappy words pouring from the typically dignified Yashiro Commissioner's mouth. Lies. All lies. What was he up to?

THE FIRSTBORN DAUGHTER OF TWO MONSTADT ARISTOCRATS--distant relatives of the Gunhildr clan, and one of the few families spared during Lady Venessa's rebellion. Your parents had been relatively lax; constantly busy with work, unable to make time for you in their lives. To compensate, they let you do as you wished; as long as you made sure to uphold family values, and study well.

Thus, your life had been filled with days immersed in your studies as an aristocrat and chasing crystal flies through the shadows of Whispering Woods. A simple and balanced life, filled with both freedom and rules. You had never resented your parents; they provided you with everything you needed and hired a nanny who raised you well. You and your parents held mutual respect and an indirect form of affection for each other.

Yet that all came shattering down when news of a marriage proposal from overseas arrived. The prospects were excellent, and your parents had hastily agreed in your stead. Nothing could be done; you were now engaged to the head of the Kamisato Clan, a man you had never met.

THAT NIGHT, you had bawled your eyes out in the lap of your beloved nanny; before begging your parents, for the first time ever, to not be sent to a foreign nation. Where you would be alone, once again.

That was when you realized it; it wasn't that they were always busy. They simply didn't care enough to constantly stand by your side. A political marriage like this was enough to ensure that you would be well-fed and sheltered, so they were satisfied. Their job was done.

Beneath the pale white moonlight, shining through the gaps between the branches of your favourite tree in the Whispering Woods, was a wet patch of soil. Your tears continued to roll down the edges of your eyes; watering the soil and tree. You had tasted what freedom was; but now, it was being ripped away from you.

Perhaps it was the Anemo crystal flies that took pity on you--or maybe even Barbatos himself, who knows. Either way, the next morning, you woke up in the woods; eyes puffy and cheeks red with dried tearstains. Next to you, a green glass orb glowed brilliantly; casting its emerald light down upon you. A secret friend that would forever accompany you on your endeavours.

At first, hope had sparked through your body; the vision was proof of your ambition and worth. Would it be enough to save you from your lonely fate?

However, when you had gleefully thrust your vision into the gaze of your nanny, her gentle demeanour turned sour.

"Milady--where did you get this?.... Please do not joke around. A noble lady, especially one getting married to a prestigious overseas commissioner, should not desire such things. Please always be reminded of your responsibilities. There is no longer room for freedom."

Cracks had slowly, one by one, crept across the glass mirror reflecting your once-perfect life. At first, you had despaired; confining yourself within the darkness of your room--refusing to eat or dress up for guests. It got worse--to the point, maids had to drag you kicking and screaming to take a bath. What was the point?

Regardless of how much ambition or intelligence you had, everything boiled down to how marriageable you were. Everything revolved around your pretty face and blue blood.

But did it really?

There's so much to explore, in this world. Why not try to chase for the stars, little lady? If you don't have a lot of time 'til you're shipped off overseas, you may as well enjoy it.

Some words of advice from some retired adventurers, lounging lazily around the warmth of a fire in the Whispering Woods.

A sharp, numb, pang of realization rang through you. They were right.

There was so much to see in Inazuma, as well, wasn't there?

"I haven't visited you in a while, nor had a proper conversation in ages. I missed you."

YOU RESISTED THE URGE TO ITCH AT A SPOT ON YOUR NECK. A mere distraction. Moving too much would cause the tiny pins in your hair to fall out of place, and wrinkle your kimono. You resisted the urge to clasp your fingers around the bronze locket hanging around your neck; to feel the comforting pulse of your vision, hidden inside the flimsy metal.

"I see." You dryly replied, uncomfortably looking away. From the corner of your eye, you saw a familiar blond, who gave you a short bow. An awkward smile graced your lips, as you tilted your head in greeting.

After you had arrived in Inazuma, you were greeted by a blond-haired, emerald-eyed man; one of your fiance's trusted servants, Thoma. He was a good conversation partner; a former Monstadter, now serving the Commissioner. If you wished, you could reach out to him for comfort. He'd surely sympathize with a lonely little lady, faraway from home. But you knew that he couldn't be trusted with your little secret. You could see the burning loyalty in his passionate emerald eyes, that he held for the Yashiro Commissioner.

"...Everybody, please leave the room." Ayato's sharp voice cut through your train of thought, as you refocused your attention on him. His once plaint, calm demeanour had disappeared. Hearing his order, your handmaidens and the servants all instantly disappeared. You hesitantly shuffled, unsure if you should follow. "No, you stay, Y/N."

"...Yes, my lord. How can I help?" You replied, gnashing your teeth, as you fiddled with the hem of your kimono. What on earth did this man want? He had shown zero interest in you, in the past; always busy with 'work-related matters,' never bothering to show up to any birthdays or formal events, just like your parents.

Not that you minded. The western wing of the Kamisato residence remained practically uninhabited until you had moved in. All the handmaidens and servants working in your quarters were on your side, in this household.

You were a noblewoman too. One of the talents you had picked up was exerting your own influence. Within weeks, you had completely won the staff over--including the handmaidens assigned by the Yashiro Commissioner himself, to watch over you.

Ayato calmly set his teacup down, steel gaze flicking to meet your eyes. Goosebumps trailed down your spine. "I would like to ask you something, and I'd prefer if you were as honest as possible."

Panic flew through your mind. Did he find out about the secret stash of Guides to Freedom you had commissioned an adventurer to transport to you? Or the wind glider hidden in the back of your closet? Or perhaps...

Your Anemo Vision?

"...ARE YOU NOT FOND OF MY PRESENCE? HAVE I OFFENDED YOU IN THE PAST?"

A dull silence resounded through the room, as you froze in fear. His words slowly ticked through your mind, processing. Ayato tilted his head, amusement evident in his unreadable gaze. He leaned towards you, and you instinctively flinched, snapping out of your trance.

"...I'm afraid I do not understand your question, my lord." You replied stoically. "You are my husband. There is no reason for me to disli-"

"Really? Then I'd like to inquire why you decided to place your eyes upon Thoma, rather than me, your husband?" You stiffened, as those saccharine-sweet, sugarcoated words flowed easily from Ayato's mouth. "Tell me, my sweet wife. Since when did you begin to fancy my own servant?"

You felt your own typically-dormant temper flare. Since when did this man have the right to involve himself in your private affairs? However, you patiently gritted your teeth--a faux, thin-lipped smile of elegance curving across your delicate features.

"I don't know what you are talking about, my lord. You rarely visit me, and we've only spoken on a couple occasions, regarding formal matters. I apologize, but you have no right to inquire about my private affairs. " You bluntly replied. "I neither dislike nor favour you, my lord."

Ayato hummed softly, shifting slightly.

The eyes are the windows to one's soul. Scriptures from the Favonius Church cited this saying--that one's emotions and beliefs are evident, and can be identified by looking into their eyes.

But when you gazed into his eyes, it was like peering into a misty field, after a gentle spring shower. A thick fog veiled his intentions, yet Ayato's mesmerising violet irises were clearer than the waterfalls of Springvale.

He patted the empty spot next to him. "Perhaps I haven't been clear enough. We should have an amicable relationship, but I've been neglecting you. I apologize. WHy don't you have a seat next to me?"

You narrowed your eyes, watching his snake-like expression twist in amusement at your reluctance. What in Celestia's name was he planning now? Regardless, it appeared that the minor tantrum he was previously throwing, was over. You stood up, shuffling to his side. Your kimono rustled, the exquisite silk crinkling as you sat down next to him.

Unbeknownst to you, his gaze burned with vicious envy, as his mind formulated a plan.

THE GLOSSY FABRIC OF HIS GLOVES suddenly brushed against your cheek, as you steeled your unrelenting gaze--putting up an unfazed front. His face drew closer, fingers trailing to your shoulders.

You could feel it. His cool, indifferent touch crinkling the kimono--calculative gaze soaking in your every reaction. You nervously felt your teeth rake the edge of your lip--bruising it.

"...My lord, I'd like to ask of you to please maintain some personal space." You dryly commented, feeling your cheeks flush a rosy pink. You pursed your lips, forcibly yanking his wrists away from your body. The long, rigid fabric slid backwards, revealing the unblemished skin beneath. You watched as Ayato's eyes appreciatively soaked in the visual before him.

Suddenly, he chuckled. The smooth, elegant noise sent a shiver across your spine, as your stomach fluttered at the sound.

The man was heartless--you knew that more than anyone. Neither of you even bothered to try and hide the fact that your marriage was completely political. So why was he trying to get all buddy-buddy with you? You scowled, glaring viciously at him.

"...I had thought that you were withering away, due to lack of attention. But it appears I was completely wrong." He leaned forward. Your eyes widened, as alarm bells went off in your head. You shot backwards, mouth opening to hurl a line of crude insults at him.

"How dare you-"

AS MONTHS OF COLD SILENCE between the two of you fluttered by, Ayato had become curious; what was his new 'bride' like? He had, for a long time, assumed that you had resigned yourself to your fate; to live as a sacrificial lamb, for the sake of a political alliance--yet the opposite was true.

You were interesting. A delicate flower, desperately clinging onto your last hope, and against all odds, blooming in a foreign nation. He could still remember the first time he had seen you manipulate Anemo.

It had been a long, dreary evening of meeting after meeting. The hot, humid summer air sank into the thick, ceremonial white robes he wore, as beads of sweat trickled down his neck. The sky was a deep, midnight blue; slowly flushing into a glorious golden dawn. Another night, wasted away.

It was an accident. Ayato had merely been observing the back garden of the Kamisato compound, from his hidden sanctuary; a small fountain in a clearing, overlooking the western wing's garden. A faint flash of emerald green lit up the area.

His eyes widened, soaking in the view. In mere seconds, a figure had scaled the wall of the compound--darting effortlessly through the air, and landing with a thump on the other side. An intruder? Or perhaps an assassin-

No. That face looked familiar. Ayato watched, intrigued as your appearance morphed and distorted. Your long, (H/C) locks, once tainted with an unrecognizable dark brown colour, returned to their original state. Your facial structure changed, as did your other defining features.

Ah...Y/N was her name, I believe. He had almost forgotten about you--and the fact that you even existed. His memory flashed back to the submissive, weak gaze that you held when he first met you. Had it truly all been an act? From a distance, he watched as a handmaiden appeared from the shadows--placing a shawl around your shoulders and frantically whispering into your ears, before helping you brush away a few stray leaves from your clothes. Your lips curved into a dazzling smile, as you let out a breathless laugh, trying to catch your breath.

How had you done it? Curiosity overwhelmed his indifference, as he continued to observe the two of you slink back into the confines of the western wing. Your acting was on spot.

For the next couple of days, Ayato would remain perched next to the fountain, documents in hand, as he observed you skillfully creep in and out of the compound. Some days, you'd return with a beaming smile, unaware of his watchful eye. On rare occasions, you'd return dishevelled; with windswept hair, bruised and tired. The scent of the ocean accompanied you everywhere you went--but the couple times Ayato encountered you, while passing through the halls, the heavy scent of Sakura bloom perfume masked the salty sea breeze.

Whenever you returned from your nighttime adventures, it was like you had been rejuvenated with life. An ethereal, bright glow surrounded you in the morning; unbeknownst to Ayato, like a moth to a flame, he was slowly sinking into an uncontrollable obsession. Until he finally snapped.

One night, you didn't return.

Ayato remained motionless; gaze fixed upon the wall of the compound. The thick stack of documents sitting next to him, lay abandoned and forgotten. Perhaps he had forgotten; if you could leave so easily, why would you return?

His heart stung with hurt--was it because he had become so accustomed to watching you? To be so free, yet also poise as a restrained and delicate lady; you awakened something within Ayato.

"My lord, it is getting quite late." A warm, friendly voice echoed from behind Kamisato Ayato. It was Thoma. A warm blanket was draped across Ayato's shoulders. "You should head inside and get some rest. Are you still waiting for Lady Y/N?"

Thoma glanced worriedly at the Commissioner, whose unreadable gaze glittered with anxiety. "...Not yet. Just a little longer."

The sun continued to peer over the horizon, as the early morning slowly came. Ayato remained in the same position. What am I even doing? It was none of his business--he had come to an unspoken agreement with you; as long as you didn't cause trouble, you could do as you wish. He wasn't even against you taking a lover--or was he? In fact, had you?

The mere thought of it, now made his blood boil. He subconsciously felt a spike of insecurity, as the early morning birds began to sing.

Suddenly, a huge gust of wind billowed out to Ayato's position; ruffling his pastel-blue locks. In an instant, all of his worries vanished--before his eyes analyzed the situation.

YOU HAD RETURNED; BATTERED AND IN CRITICAL CONDITION. From far away, Ayato could see a group of servants rush to aid you to stand, before examing the bloody slash across the side of your ribcage. You staggered in pain, letting out a gasp as a damp cloth was wrapped around the injury.

Yet, why were you smiling? The brilliant, glowing smile on your face reflected the excitement of your nighttime adventure. Ayato narrowed his eyes. This wouldn't do. At this rate, rather than wither away, you'd be ruthlessly ripped apart by outside forces. The thought unsettled him. He had to do something quick.

"...You want us to trail Lady Y/N, my lord?" Ayato impassively stared at the pair of Shuumatsuban ninjas, looking up at him with confusion. "...As in, the lady of the house?"

"Correct. She needs the appropriate protection that a Lady of the clan deserves. Report every single detail about her day and what she does." His tone left no room for argument, as the pair of ninja at his feet bowed again. What sounded like protection, wasn't completely innocent. Ayato felt chills prickle down his spine, as the lonesome feeling of abandonment washed over his mind.

"We accept this mission."

Since when had he become so captivated by you? Ayato wasn't sure. But you were no longer just a scapegoat; he had firsthand witnessed how delicate and naive you were, of this world. Surely you didn't believe that he'd continue to let you risk your life all in the name of 'freedom?' You hadn't been able to even detect his presence!

You'd be safer by his side. After all, flowers far from home require extra assistance in order to bloom and remain healthy.

AYATO'S GAZE WAS UNREADABLE, AS ALWAYS. The Commissioner was unfazed by your sudden outburst.

In one swift motion, his long fingers ascended to the back of your head, holding you in place--sealing his lips against yours. You didn't even have time to protest, as you felt him snake his arm around your waist, pressing your body flush against his.

You had made a fatal mistake; you underestimated your enemy, believing that he hadn't noticed anything. Ayato let out a faint chuckle, violet eyes glittering with a deep obsession, as he wrapped his arms closer around you. You scrunched up your nose, a furious noise erupting from your throat as you tried to push him away.

Where had you gone wrong?

#yandere #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #kamisato ayato #yandere ayato #unhealthy #dark deception #nobles #aristocrats #yandere x reader #self insert #arranged marriage #jealousy

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life-imitates-art-far-more · 1 year

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Franz Xaver Winterhalter (1805-1873) "Portrait of Countess Marie Branicka de Bialacerkiew" (1865) Oil on canvas Located in the Philadelphia Museum of Art, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, United States The Countess Marie Branicka de Bialacerkiew [née Princess Sapicka] belonged to a socially prominent and wealthy Polish family living in Paris, where this portrait was painted

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oceancentury · 8 months

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Aristocrats (1999), set from 1744 to 1798, it is based on the lives of the Lennox sisters, daughters of the Duke of Richmond (played by Julian Fellowes). Their paternal grandfather was an illegitimate son of King Charles II.

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fieriframes · 6 months

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[Privilege from birth, abhorrence of work. Obsessed with sovereignty. Aristocrats claim an exemption. From the standards of democracy.]

#s31e06 not your everyday eats #guy fieri #guyfieri #diners drive-ins and dives #privilege #birth #abhorrence #work #sovereignty #aristocrats #exemption #standards #democracy

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canyourfavesurvivecastledracula · 3 months

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Arthur Holmwood is I believe the only one of the men whose fate hasn't been analysed?

I can see him accepting the crucifix to be polite, but not to keep on wearing it for more than a night or so. He's very English.

But the dynamics would be interesting if he survives accidental cutting. This is a young Lord who travels with his friends around the world for fun without worrying about funds or parental disapproval. I thiiink he's a Viscount's son, and they are close. Dracula treated Jonathan like the mere commoner he is and ordered him around and abused their power imbalance unchallenged, but perhaps a fellow liege lord shan't tolerate to be treated so 'vulgarly' (unless Dracula uses different tactics with him). Jonathan thinks of protesting about writing fake letters as ordered once, sees Dracula's eyes get a bit fiery, and cowers to submission. I don't think Arthur would.

Either way he dies inside when he learns he cannot get a Special in Transylvania.

Yes I've been doling out the Dracula characters a bit at a time. Poor dear Arthur. He never really does know what's going on.

When I thought about this last year, I concluded that Arthur very politely and sweetly declines the crucifix. Arthur knows how to say "no thank you" and Arthur is accustomed to getting his way. He's not a papist and anyway he's not going to take some poor lady's stuff, he's richer than God, he doesn't need other people's stuff.

Okay, serious question, does Arthur know how to shave himself? Like, he has servants for that. ....on consideration, he spent all that time going on adventures with the boys, so Arthur does know how to rough it. And that's good because there are no servants at Castle Dracula.

God, Arthur probably tips his driver. Dracula takes the money and is just like "...huh."

Yeah, you're right about the rank - Victoriana side of tumblr did a lot of research and determined that Lord Godalming (and later Arthur) is likely a Viscount. So Dracula technically outranks him slightly and Arthur knows it. Arthur is also used to the whimsical oddities of the upper classes which means that he is less wigged out by Dracula's behavior than Jonathan. He plays cards with crazier people every Tuesday.

I think Arthur is therefore reasonably likely to actually achieve the sort of obliviousness that Jonathan is so frequently accused of. He's not going to be gathering evidence and doing tests. He's certainly not going to be writing it down. What Arthur is good at is people. Like he can tell that Dracula is desperately unwell. Maybe he invites him to play Tennis. Arthur is sporty and Dracula could clearly use some fresh air and exercise. I think Arthur is less likely to go exploring and so it takes him much much longer to discover he's a prisoner. He writes letters to Lucy every day when he learns to his horrorthat there's no telegraph. It never occurs to him that Dracula isn't sending them - a Gentlemen would surely never behave like that.

(Sorry, I've been reading the Woman in White - can you tell?)

I agree that Arthur will not do the sort of silent cowering that Jonathan does. I certainly don't see him going feral enough to start climbing the walls. He will either confront or accept Dracula's insults. You bring up the letter burning - leaving aside that Arthur doesn't know shorthand and just is not that sneaky, he'd either call Dracula out on going a bridge too far at last or confusedly apologize to him or both. (If you think I'm being unfair to Arthur he does both of these with Van Helsing).

Ultimately even if Arthur doesn't die shaving, he's unlikely to respond to Dracula's psychological torments in a way that will be entertaining for very long. I can't think of any good reason for Dracula not to just let the Girlies have him.

Arthur Holmwood can not survive Castle Dracula

#dracula daily #arthur holmwood #I love him very much but no #gothlit #aristocrats #dracula cast

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charlotte-of-wales · 8 days

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PLS

#aristocrats

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zedecksiew · 9 months

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The Fairwind Jongleurs

Some context:

Sao Rai is a society lady. She fancies herself a progressive libertine. Her name is ancient; her inheritance obscene. She is about to host a fete for her fifty-year-old grandmother, the Widow Gon.

For entertainment at the party, she has engaged the Fairwind Jongleurs, a sea-folk troupe. The sea-folk are a nomadic maritime people---admired for their "tragic and noble savagery".

THE FAIRWIND JONGLEURS

“They were wasted in the playhouse where I found them. Look. Such passion, such intensity. Look at his eyes. Look how she dances. Such frenzy!”

Sao Rai doesn’t know that these sea-folk knew her grandfather. Lord Gon burned their flotilla. They are here to pay him in kind.

MASTER STARRY 6 Grit 10 STR 10 DEX 14 HRT Rifle, as club (d6)

Casts etched bone and sea glass, reads the pattern, speaks your fortune: “You are the diving egret. On the sixth, beware flashing mail.” His stare is cold. His gun does not fire; he has eaten its powder for years. He is a bomb. When he swallows a lit match, he dies like a fireworks factory exploding.

CHEER CHARITY’S CHILD 6 Grit 10 STR 14 DEX 10 HRT Fire darts (d6)

Tall as a twelve-year-old, marbled with burn scars. Her voice is husky laughter. Speaking, may manifest an obedient fire, the size of her body.

She juggles the flame. Shreds it into bird and fish and arrowhead shapes. These go where she can see. She imagines her audience, seared.

PATIENCE STARRY’S CHILD 6 Grit 14 STR 10 DEX 10 HRT Kick (d4)

Plump and tattooed. Her three daughters play drums, bells, clackers. She stamps, jumps, contorts. She only wears a loincloth; she jiggles and dangles.

Prudes gasp and turn away. Those who watch cannot stop watching—not until she stops dancing. Hypnotic hexes are hidden in the ink of her skin.

Let the House of Gon fall.

+++

( Image sources: http://thefilmexperience.net/blog/2018/3/26/the-furniture-the-age-of-innocence-and-the-living-museum.html https://naturelands.wordpress.com/2013/06/04/the-most-beautiful-woman-of-gilded-age-well-allow-me-to-differ/ https://digitalcollections.nypl.org/items/510d47d9-c641-a3d9-e040-e00a18064a99 https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Josephine_Giraldelli,_a_woman_impervious_to_fire._Reproducti_Wellcome_V0007101ER.jpg https://www.daytonartinstitute.org/exhibits/jean-leon-gerome-dance-of-the-almeh/ https://www.theatlantic.com/photo/2020/09/photos-wildfires-burn-through-californias-wine-country/616519/ )

#writing #fantasies #ttrpgs #characters #we deal in lead #adventures #performers #revenge #aristocrats #just desserts #orphans

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leo-jindosh · 2 years

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A dead man in a shroud from Dishonored for The Sims 4.

➢ Search in the section: Jewelry. ➢ Type: Sculpture. ➢ Install on: floor. ➢ Number of colors: 1. ➢ The position of the object: sitting and lying.

➢ There are two options in the folder: sitting and lying. With this mod, you can place corpses in any position, even overlapping each other, as it was in Dishonored. This mod will be useful to you not only for this occasion, but also everyday. Use it!

➢ Thank you for the reblogs @sssvitlanz @simbfinds @emilyccfinds

➢ Costumes of an Granny Rags, a guard and a weepers from @lady-moriel

Download - for free!

#the sims #the sims 4 #ts #ts4 download #sims download #sims 4 download #download #the sims 4 download #aristocrats #granny rags #weepers #vera moray #Dishonored #Dishonored2 #dishonored 2 #sims 4 halloween #Halloween

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ancientorigins · 1 year

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New modern-day residents will be sitting on what once was a home to royalty. Unearthing the residence of Prince Toneri in the midst of constructing a new residential complex, shows the vast heritage present in Japanese culture, with still more to uncover.

#prince #Japan #aristocrats #Nara #emperor

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