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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 1 year

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Now I’m Covered In You [Chapter 2: Dusk]

Series summary: Aemond is a prince of England. You are married to his brother. The Wars of the Roses are about to begin, and you have failed to fulfill your one crucial responsibility: to give the Greens a line of legitimate heirs. Will you survive the demands of your family back in Navarre, the schemes of the Duke of Hightower, the scandals of your dissolute husband, the growing animosity of Daemon Targaryen…and your own realization of a forbidden love?

Series title is a lyric from: Ivy by Taylor Swift.

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+), dubious consent, miscarriage, pregnancy, childbirth, violence, warfare, murder, alcoholism, sexism, infidelity, illness, death, only vaguely historically accurate, lots of horses!

Word count: 4.0k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Taglist: @borikenlove @myspotofcraziness @ipostwhatifeel @teenagecriminalmastermind @quartzs-posts @tclegane @poohxlove @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @chainsawsangel @itsabby15 @serrhaewin @padfooteyes @arcielee @travelingmypassion @what-is-originality @burningcoffeetimetravel @blackdreamspeaks @anditsmywholeheart @aemcndtargaryen @jvpit3rs @sarcastic-halfling-princess @flowerpotmage @ladylannisterxo @thelittleswanao3 @elsolario @tinykryptonitewerewolf @girlwith-thepearlearring @minttea07

Let me know if you’d like to be added! 💜

The girl is from Milan, and Daeron is enamored with her: bright-eyed, beaming, blood rosy in his cheeks. Her name is Nicolosa, though she is adamant that everyone should call her Nico. She is one of those effortlessly informal people. She laughs too loudly and says all the wrong things, too-honest observations that would be offensive if the person breathing life into them was anyone but her. She spins around the hall as violins and lutes play, swinging from the willing arms of chuckling noblemen, an aisle of light in a goldenrod gown, the sun made flesh. She has the luxury of dancing until breathless, until she glows with the sheen of exertion. She could not possibly be carrying a child; she will not be wedded and bedded for another year.

This is a great triumph for Otto the Duke of Hightower. Milan under the House of Sforza is an enviable ally, wealthy and sophisticated, and eager for friends who will one day be willing to assist them in resisting French encroachment. This is the deal that the Duke of Hightower has struck. True, Daeron is still rather young to take a bride. True, Nico’s parents, the Duke and Duchess of Milan, were insistent that they would concede to the match only if the marriage and consummation was postponed until next August. True, this does not resolve the immediate concern of Aegon’s lack of an heir. But it is another tile of a mosaic, another thread in the patchwork of the Greens’ objectives, another brick in a castle wall from which boiling oil could be poured down upon invaders.

The Duke of Hightower is accepting warm congratulations from the nobility of Southern England: Norfolk, Gloucester, Somerset, Buckingham, Suffolk, Clarence, Exeter. Those of the North—Lancaster, York, Stark—shun him. They stand instead with Rhaenyra, admiring her two eldest sons, pretending not to notice how little they resemble the late Laenor Velaryon. The Crown Princess is wearing black accented with maroon, as she almost always is. She sends a small, reassurance-seeking smile to where Daemon sits at the high table, and he raises his cup to her, his face sly, arrogant, proud. They love each other, this is clear; it may not be an especially conventional love, and it may be a love that emboldens rather than tames, but it is love nonetheless. This does not make your resignation to your own fate any easier. Queen Alicent, laughing as she joins Daeron and Nico dancing, is dressed in dark green to match her father and her children. You often wear purple, the color of royalty…just to remind people that you still deserve to be here.

You are at the high table too, albeit on the opposite side from Daemon; the Blacks are always seated to King Viserys’ right, while the Greens are on his left. Aemond doesn’t dance, you aren’t permitted to, Aegon is too drunk. He’s apparently not too drunk to leer, however; his bleary storm-blue eyes follow Lady Joanna Montford as she glides across the floor like a shark through surf, flashing luring eyes and flirtatious simpers. You’re a better dancer than she is, but of course that doesn’t matter, because no one ever gets to see you do it. Aegon won’t go so far as to touch her in public—he would consider that discourteous, you think—but he’s sleeping with her, and everyone knows he’s sleeping with her, and you can’t even truly wish he’d stop because you don’t want him in your bed anyway. But the humiliation of it…the hopelessness…that is more difficult to come to terms with.

“Portugal,” Daemon tells Aegon nonchalantly. “You could have married some princess from Portugal.”

Aegon guzzles his wine and says nothing. Aemond—scribbling messy lines of black ink onto parchment at the end of the table—glances up at you and then back down again.

Daemon continues: “The Infanta Maria was wed around the same time you were, and she’s produced a more than satisfactory son for her husband. Hugely fat, practically hoglike, I’ve seen portraits.”

“Daemon, please,” King Viserys scolds mildly, smiling as he watches Rhaenyra mingle with nobles who wouldn’t mind burning you alive if it meant the Blacks would ascend more seamlessly to the throne. The king has her son Joffrey in the chair next to him and has enthralled the boy with stories of jousts, hunts, feasts, Christmases and May Days. You wonder if he’s ever shown such interest in any of his children with Alicent. If he has, you aren’t aware of it.

“Or Savoy,” Daemon says. “Not as cultured as Milan, this cannot be denied, but of great strategic significance geographically. One foot in France, the other in Italy. I’ve heard wonderful things about Princess Louise. Very athletic, very…” He smirks, biting into a pomegranate. Ruptured seeds spurt juice like the gleam of rubies. “Flexible.”

“Oh, look, Prince Daemon.” You point into the crowded hall. “I think your wife is beckoning you to join her. Your third wife, I mean, the most recent one. The one who also happens to be your niece.”

“Or Naples!” Daemon exclaims, as if it has just occurred to him, as if he hasn’t been waiting to torment you like a wolf shadows a wounded stag, saliva filling up its mouth, fangs bared and dripping. Southerners detest Daemon because they fear he is mad; but that’s exactly what the North likes about him. “Or perhaps even—would we dare to hope?—a princess of France! Think of it! The poor Duke of Hightower would not know what to do with himself, he would be so delighted. At his age, the shock might just kill him.”

“Daemon,” King Viserys warns again.

“Perhaps you shouldn’t be giving us so many ideas,” Aegon says, slurping his wine. “Aemond is still unspoken for, and now we have a tidy list of candidates to consider. How thoughtful of you.”

“Or you simply could have made the same arrangement that you did but in reverse,” Daemon goes on as if no one else has spoken at all. “You could have taken a Castilian bride, and Helaena could have been shipped off to the Pyrenees, and your circumstances would be wildly different than they are now. Princess Lucia would have been the right age for you. Do you want to know what she gave to her new husband this past Christmas?”

“I surely don’t,” Aegon replies.

Daemon grins beneath glinting eyes. “Twins.”

“Enough,” Aemond says, dark and quiet like midnight.

Now Daemon addresses you, resting his elbows on the table. “How many more chances do you think they’ll give you, Navarre, before some providential technicality that voids your marriage contract is discovered and you are discarded of in a nunnery?” Another bite of the pomegranate; another freckling of bloodlike red across the tablecloth. “The globe is crawling with royal women, they’re fish in a barrel, why would anyone jeopardize their dynastic ambitions for you?”

“My wife belongs where I am,” Aegon says: a fact, a dare. “And I will hear no more of it.”

You look at him, grateful but a little stunned. He does this sometimes. He will choose a seemingly arbitrary moment to make a show of loyalty, and then he will never mention it again. He doesn’t return your glance. Instead, he picks apart a roasted chicken carcass with his fingers and resumes staring at Lady Joanna Montford with his dazed, watery eyes. Aemond, engrossed in his writing, hasn’t eaten much tonight. Neither have you; but there’s a reason for that.

“Where you are,” Daemon muses, raising his strange white eyebrows. “Well, I hope she enjoys brothels.”

You fling back: “Like the one you fondled the Crown Princess in?”

“A baseless rumor,” Daemon replies, but he can’t smother the flare of wicked pride in his eyes.

“Will you stop it?!” the king roars at both of you. Joffrey gazes up at him with awe, like he’s seen a falling star or a dragon or the face of God. “This is supposed to be a joyous occasion, a royal betrothal, and you can’t conduct yourselves appropriately for one night—?!”

“What are they squabbling about?” the Duke of Hightower asks as he approaches the table. He can summon nothing more condemnatory than half-serious annoyance; his mood is too lofty, his victory too fresh. Behind him in the festive ruckus, Queen Alicent and Rhaenyra are exchanging awkward compliments and trying to ignore all the enmity that has stacked up between them since the king married his daughter’s lifelong companion and started producing white-haired children with her. Jace is dancing with Baela, Luke with Rhaena; Daeron and Nico have found themselves alone in a corner, giggling as candlelight glows hot and golden on their flushed cheeks.

Rather than answering, the king merely rolls his eyes and sighs, exasperated.

“You must be overjoyed, Otto,” Daemon says. “Another friend on the Continent. And yet, they are awfully far away, don’t you think?”

The Duke of Hightower smiles tightly. “Ships travel fast.”

“Ah, perhaps, though not faster than word from here to the Scottish border.”

“The Milanese girl will make a lovely bride for young Daeron, Otto,” King Viserys praises. He has either successfully deluded himself into believing that the whole of the realm will miraculously coalesce behind Rhaenyra upon his death, or he is determined to ignore the catastrophe that will ensue once he slips, gleefully ignorant, off into the afterlife.

Daemon nods. “Yes. Buxom, vivacious, amiable, she will be a fine mother someday. Unlike certain other people among us.”

Aegon says around a mouthful of chicken: “Grandsire, Prince Daemon was kind enough to point out all the other advantageous matches still at our disposal. Since we haven’t monopolized our bloodline by marrying exclusively immediate relatives.”

The Duke of Hightower chuckles. “Yes, I do sincerely hope that Jace and Luke’s offspring don’t all end up with fifteen fingers or gills or some such thing.”

“Fortunately, Harwin Strong’s blood should dilute the lineage,” you say.

Daemon turns towards you, twisting in his chair, grinning cruelly. “Gills or not, at least they’ll have children.”

You can’t think of anything to say back. Perhaps there is nothing to say. The Duke of Hightower and Aegon both avert their eyes. King Viserys has returned his attention to young Joffrey and is teaching him a prayer to invoke the protection of Saint George. Only Daemon looks at you; and Aemond watches him, quill hovering in midair, his sole blue eye a blaze of cold fire. You push out your chair and rise from the table, fleeing to one of the rooms adjacent to the exuberant, cheerful hall. You’re happy for Daeron and Nico, truly you are. But pain has a way of feeling heavier than joy, doesn’t it? It grips onto your ankles and drags you down into depths that nobody else can see.

The room is small and empty, the music muffled by the walls. Through the stained glass windows trickle in beams of pink-lavender light as dusk falls over Westminster Palace. And you stand there alone in the twilight, thinking of the past and the future and time itself, a ghost that will always be made of more secrets than answers.

You hear the door open behind you. “I’ll return to the festivities in a moment,” you say to the intruder, trying to keep the emotion from your voice.

“No need,” Aemond replies softly.

You wheel, and there he is, walking to meet you in the vanishing daylight. He takes your left hand in his and settles his right lightly, modestly, on your waist. “What—?” And then you understand.

Dancing. Here, where no one can see to forbid or ridicule. He’s come to take me dancing.

You smile up at him. “I’m not supposed to be doing this.”

“We’ll go very slowly.”

And slowly would be an understatement: you and Aemond move together in dawdling, careful steps, rotating like seasons, like the phases of the moon. He smells like he always does, of work and effort: smoke, leather, that scent he wears that is dark and woodsy and with an edge like a knife. His hands are calloused from sword sparring. Yours feel soft and helpless in his; they weren’t always so fragile, but they are now. “I thought you hated me,” you tell him.

“I’ve never hated you.”

“But you ignored me. For an entire year after I arrived in England, you ignored me.”

“I kept my distance. That’s very different from ignoring.”

“Alright, but why keep your distance at all?”

Aemond hesitates. “I am not in the habit of allowing myself to be noticed.”

“Because you fear people will see through the armor you’re wearing?” And when he abruptly stops dancing, you add: “I don’t mean that unkindly. I’m the same way. I wear all sorts of masks.”

He studies you in the lilac light. His gaze falls from your eyes to your lips to your throat. And then he resumes the unhurried dance. “There’s nothing about you worth hiding.”

You spin away from him and then return to be caught. “And you think you are a trove of scandalous secrets, Prince Aemond? Is that what’s in all those poems you won’t let me read?”

“If they were any good, I’d let you read them.”

“But you have the disposition of a genuine poet. Enigmatic, perceptive…” Alluring. Beautiful. You cast those thoughts away like coins into a wishing well. “Graceful.”

“So the dancing isn’t too terrible. I don’t do it often, I’m afraid.”

“You don’t do it ever to my knowledge. And no, not terrible at all.”

“I move best when holding a sword, not a princess.”

“I used to have callouses like yours, you know,” you say. “My palms and fingers were covered in them.”

“Because you sparred with your brothers,” Aemond remembers.

“For hours and hours. Especially with Alonzo. He’s the exact opposite of you, short and stocky and loud, with dark curls and heavy feet. And his poetry would send a lady sprinting in the other direction.”

“Do you miss it? Terrorizing men with swords?”

“Of course. I was almost somewhat good at that, unlike everything I’m tasked with here.”

Aemond grins, broad and mischievous. “Let’s have a demonstration then.” He releases your hand, goes to the door that leads to a stairwell, and waits patiently for you to join him.

This is improper. This is disobedient. But what has being obedient gotten you lately?

You follow Aemond through the doorway, down the stone steps, and out into the courtyard illuminated by dusk like amber, tiger’s eye, amethyst, rose quartz. It is empty except for the two of you; the rest of the palace is thoroughly occupied with drinking, dancing, and murderous scheming. It is a wonder with as lethal as the world is that women are meant to be so powerless. Aemond trots across the grass towards the blacksmith’s forge at the far end of the courtyard, then returns with two swords. He passes you the lighter one.

“How does it feel?” he asks you.

You twirl the sword a few times, admittedly rather inexpertly. “Wonderful. But I’m very out of practice.”

“Fear not. We’ll take this slow as well.” He taps his blade against yours, so tenderly it’s laughable; the sound it makes is blunt and low. Still, you’re both smiling as you circle each other, striking out with intentionally ineffectual thrusts and lunges, blocking, parrying. “Your footwork is excellent,” Aemond notes.

“It used to be better. But I appreciate your compliment. You’re more talented than Alonzo. Then again, you probably spend much less time skipping lessons to chase women around.”

“Undoubtedly,” Aemond says in a tone you can’t decipher. Then he asks, interest piqued: “What sorts of masks do you wear?”

You shrug, your blade skating down the length of his. “All sorts.”

Aemond parries. “I’d be interested to know.”

“A genuine poet would be astute enough to sift out the truth from the lies.”

“So lie to me,” Aemond says, his stare direct and bold, his sword balanced in one hand and pointed at your ribs, your heart. “And we shall find out if I can tell.”

You side-step him, thinking of frivolous diversions. “I love English ale and drink it all the time.”

“Lie. Apple cider.”

The blades clang. “My favorite color is, dutifully, green.”

“Lie. Red, like the flag of Navarre.”

And like blood. “It’s beginning to lose its charm,” you confide in Aemond.

“Don’t do that,” he says severely. “Don’t let them take something you’re proud of away from you.”

You consider him as stars rise in a violet sky. “Why are you encouraging my rebellious inclinations? You don’t give the impression of being much of a rule breaker.”

“I don’t see what good can come from you being denied any source of happiness,” he says simply. “Go on. Let’s have another attempt at a lie.”

You block Aemond’s benign, cautious swing as you circle him. “I’m pregnant again.”

Aemond halts; every muscle in his body goes still and inflexible. And he knows immediately that you’re telling the truth. “I’m…I’m very glad to hear that,” he manages at last.

You laugh fleetingly, cynically. “You can’t even properly congratulate me. No one can. Because everything’s gone so horribly thus far, people don’t want to get their hopes up.”

“Does anyone else know?”

“Not yet. But I can recognize the first signs by now.” Constant low-level nausea, difficulty waking in the morning, dull cramping. You force a thin smile. “At least your brother won’t need to visit my bed for a while.”

“You don’t find pleasure with him? Is Aegon not…” Aemond searches for the right word, nervous, bashful. Hot blooms of blood appear in his cheeks. “Attentive to you?”

“It’s not his fault. He tries, really. He’s never been selfish or rough. It is entirely my own deficiency. I’m just not…at ease with him, I suppose. I can’t relax enough. I can’t reach…well…” Euphoria? A climax? A peak? You know what euphemisms others use, but it’s difficult to describe something you’ve never experienced before.

Aemond nods, meaning that he understands, that you don’t have to wrench the words out of you like entrails from a slaughtered animal.

“I know that other women can,” you say, tapping your blade against his. “That their husbands are well-matched with them and that they enjoy great pleasure. It’s difficult for me to accept that isn’t something I’ll ever get to have myself. At least…I don’t believe I’ve ever had it.”

“I think you’d know if you had.”

“Oh, and you’re an expert in a woman’s pleasure, are you? As an unmarried prince?” Your voice is casual and teasing; but the thought of him with a lover is like a bolt of lightning. It pains you, it paralyzes you, it hits you without any warning.

“Years ago, Aegon paid for a woman to…initiate me,” he explains. “Several times. He meant it as an act of compassion, I think. I was speechless around anyone I found desirable.”

Your nausea swells from a ripple to a wave. “Oh. I see.”

“It’s not something that I especially wanted at the time, and it’s not something that I have cared to repeat since. But it was very…informative.”

He gives you an infinitesimal little half-smile, and something passes between you as the last threads of dusk are unwoven from the sky and night engulfs Westminster Palace, something like a promise, a note, a whisper. The queasiness in your belly vanishes and is replaced by something else: a sensation like falling, like wanting. You are overcome by an ache to say something, though you don’t know what.

“What the hell are you doing?!” the Duke of Hightower bellows, striding out into the courtyard. Aemond takes several swift steps away from you and hurls his sword to the ground. You toss yours away as well.

“Grandsire, the princess and I were just—”

“You!” the Duke of Hightower shouts, turning on you first. “You should be in a chair or in bed, you should be resting, you should be thinking only of your health and of the wellbeing of the heirs you will produce with Aegon, not gallivanting around in the darkness and playing with swords, of all things! What would your husband say? What would your parents say?! Are you what we were promised when we signed that godforsaken contract?! Surely, princess, at this very moment you are not.”

Aemond begins: “Grandsire, it wasn’t her idea—”

“And you,” the Duke of Hightower growls at him. “You will immediately rid yourself of your baffling aversion to marriage, because you’re next, Aemond. Be prepared to discuss the candidates tomorrow and decide upon your preferred bride. Your brothers and sister are spoken for. We have one last card to play, and it cannot wait any longer. Not with this enduring…” He glances bitterly at you. “Uncertainty.”

Since you arrived in England, there have been innumerable discussions of who Aemond will marry, and he has staunchly evaded every proposed match. His rationale has wavered from needing to focus on his studies to committing himself to training as a warrior to interrogating the strategic wisdom of each potential alliance. This is strange for a man who is otherwise so constrained by familial loyalty, so devoted to the advancement of the Greens. “I won’t even get to meet her first?”

“You’ll learn to like her. Daeron met his betrothed today and he is happy.”

“Daeron is lucky,” Aemond objects. “I might just as easily not be.”

“You will marry,” the Duke of Hightower insists. “Without protest and without further delay.”

Aemond looks down at his empty hands—lines and callouses, fresh scars and ancient heritage—and he says quietly: “Do you care nothing for love?”

“Have you ever wondered why the old put so little stock in love, Aemond?” the Duke replies. “It’s not because we don’t believe it’s real. It’s because we know it doesn’t last. Women die in childbirth. Men die at war. Thousands die of Plague or the bloody flux. People who once would have killed for you grow to hate you, or worse, feel nothing for you at all. Love is transient and painful and changeable and destructive. Best to skip over such things and think of legacy instead. That’s all any of us are left with in the end.”

And then the Duke of Hightower clasps your wrist and leads you back inside the palace, gently, as if you are made of glass.

~~~~~~~~~~

It is several hours later when Aegon staggers noisily into your bedchamber, knocking over a Florentine vase by the door. Shards of it tumble across the floorboards like wounded men littering a battlefield.

“Sorry,” he slurs, pulling off his tunic and then the plain white shirt underneath. “I’m very drunk, wife, I cannot deny it, but there’s only one part of me that you’re in need of and I think that I can still get it up—”

“Aegon.” You’re lying in bed and sipping a cup of apple cider. “You don’t need to stay. Your part is done.”

He stops cold and blinks at you, comprehending it sluggishly. His eyes flick down to your belly, covered by a blanket decorated with green roses. “Oh.”

“It’s alright. You can go now. You have other places to be, and I know that’s what you want.”

“Is there anything I can do for you? To make it easier?”

Be a different sort of man. Be more like Aemond. “No, I’m fine. But it’s very sweet of you to ask.”

“Okay.” He lurches away, stepping on pieces of the shattered vase. His bare feet leave stains of blood on the floor. And then he pauses under the doorframe, gripping it so he doesn’t fall over. “Wife?”

“Yes?”

“It’s not that there’s anything wrong with you, you know,” he says. “It’s the pressure of it all. It’s the responsibility. I don’t have to feel that when I’m with anyone else.”

I don’t wish he was more like Aemond. I wish he WAS Aemond. “I understand, Aegon.”

He gives you a pitiful, off-kilter, childish smile. “Goodnight,” he says just before he leaves, clutching the doorframe with clawed hands. And then: “Goodnight to both of you.”

#aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen x reader

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monoclesnapple · 1 month

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Bold Words For You!

Bungo Stray Dogs Chuuya Nakahara X Gender Neutral Reader Tormenting Chuuya with Situations Series Beginning Note: Inspired by a clip from Assassin's Creed 2 and Caterina Sforza. Word Count: 655 (Crack)

The Port Mafia had taken two children as captives to convince their mother to cooperate with the organization. They were taken off the street and were questioned about their parent. They were trembling like scared lambs and couldn't utter a word.

Chuuya, (Name), and some insignificant subordinates were standing in front of a house. The village they were in was small, but the community seemed fairly friendly. Albeit, not towards outsiders.

The woman they needed was on the balcony of the house, refusing to come down. She and a few nameless members were shouting at each other. This particular woman had power over this village. Someone they needed to cooperate. Chuuya facepalmed as he sighed. This was more troublesome than he initially thought.

The kids weren’t even doing much. They had just accepted the fact that their mother wouldn’t be doing anything to help them. They stood, unimpressed at the commotion. Chuuya thought about what he should do for a few moments before stepping forward and silencing his subordinates.

“All we need is for you to come with us and when all’s said and done, we’ll let you go,” Chuuya said. He really just wanted to go home and drink some wine. Smoke a cigarette after today’s events.

“How many times must I say it!? I’m not going to work with the fucking mafia, even if I get something!” The lady shouted.

(Name) lazily raised an eyebrow, their eyes darting between Chuuya and the other person. They were brought along because apparently Chuuya would need some assistance. He certainly did. He was struggling so much that it wasn’t even funny anymore. Just sad.

They walked next to Chuuya, looking up. “I respect your strong will, but is there anything we can do to convince you?” They paused before turning and walking back to their initial position. “Never mind. Forget I said the last part.”

The woman nodded and looked at the short man. “You should follow your partner’s actions. At least they know when to stop begging someone to help them.”

Chuuya scowled. “Shut up, you! You’re making this harder for everyone! If you don’t cooperate with us, we’ll just take your kids and torture them!”

The woman boldly stood on a table and rested a foot on the railing of the balcony. “Take them away! I don’t care! I have the instrument to make more!” She took the hem of her dress and lifted it.

Everyone below froze in shock. (Name) chuckled and stalked towards Chuuya, whose face was redder than a tomato. He was stuttering over his words, pressing a hand to his mouth and averted his eyes.

“Well, Mr. Strong Mafioso Who Never Backs Down, what shall we do now?” (Name) redirected their attention to the lady, who had dropped the fabric. “Bold move, ma’am! I like your style!” They clapped.

She stood proudly. “Thank you for the respect I deserve! And you, mister! Go on and take my kids, and never come back here again!” She shooed before entering her house, calling for someone, and shutting the door.

Chuuya fell to his knees and covered his head in embarrassment after lowering his upper body to the floor. He cursed to himself for losing composure and the target. His hands grabbed at his hair, tugging at it.

(Name) crouched in front of him with a smirk on their face. Knowing that they’re there, Chuuya barked, “Shut up!”

They raised their hands and leaned back. “If I knew that you would be flustered into a hot mess by a lady’s actions, I would’ve done something earlier.”

Meanwhile, the subordinates were snickering to themselves at the sight of their leader. The two kids just shook their heads and knew that they weren’t actually going to be tortured. (Name) stood again and glanced around. They commented, “We didn’t have to kidnap some kids, really. Maybe if we invited her for tea, she would’ve been convinced.”

#bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd chuuya #bungou stray dogs #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara #chuuya nakahara x reader #~writing~#~drabble~#Tormenting Chuuya with Situations Series

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palecleverdoll · 6 months

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Wives and Daughters of Holy Roman Emperors: Age at First Marriage

I have only included women whose birth dates and dates of marriage are known within at least 1-2 years, therefore, this is not a comprehensive list.

This list does not include women who died before their husbands were crowned Emperor. It spans between the beginning of the reign of Otto I (962 CE) and the end of the reign of Francis II (1806 CE).

The average age at first marriage among these women was 17. The sample size was 91 women. The youngest bride, Bianca Maria Sforza, was just 2 years old when she wed her first husband, who was himself 9. The oldest bride, Constance of Sicily, was 32 years old.

Adelaide of Italy, wife of Otto I, HRE: age 15 when she married Lothair II, King of Italy, in 947 CE

Liutgarde of Saxony, daughter of Otto I, HRE: age 15 when she married Conrad the Red, Duke of Lorraine, in 947 CE

Theophanu, wife of Otto II, HRE: age 17 when she married Otto in 972 CE

Cunigunde of Luxembourg, wife of Henry II, HRE: age 24 when she married Henry in 999 CE

Gisela of Swabia, wife of Conrad II, HRE: age 12 when she married Brun I of Brunswick in 1002 CE

Agnes of Poitou, wife of Henry III, HRE: age 18 when she married Henry in 1043 CE

Matilda of Germany, daughter of Henry III, HRE: age 11 when she married Rudolf of Rheinfelden in 1059 CE

Judith of Swabia, daughter of Henry III, HRE: age 9 when she married Solomon, King of Hungary in 1063 CE

Bertha of Savoy, wife of Henry IV, HRE: age 15 when she married Henry in 1066 CE

Agnes of Waiblingen, daughter of Henry IV, HRE: age 14 when she married Frederick I, Duke of Swabia in 1086 CE

Empress Matilda, wife of Henry V, HRE: age 12 when she married Henry in 1114 CE

Beatrice I, Countess of Burgundy, wife of Frederick I, HRE: age 13 when she married Frederick in 1156 CE

Beatrice, daughter of Frederick I, HRE: age 10 when she married Guillaume II, Count of Chalon in 1173 CE

Constance, Queen of Sicily, wife of Henry IV, HRE: age 32 when she married Henry IV in 1186 CE

Beatrice of Swabia, first wife of Otto IV, HRE: age 14 when she married Otto in 1212 CE

Maria of Brabant, second wife of Otto IV, HRE: age 24 when she married Otto in 1214 CE

Constance of Aragon, first wife of Frederick II, HRE: age 19 when she married Emeric of Hungary in 1198 CE

Isabella II of Jerusalem, second wife of Frederick II, HRE: age 13 when she married Frederick in 1225 CE

Isabella of England, third wife of Frederick II, HRE: age 21 when she married Frederick in 1235 CE

Margaret of Sicily, daughter of Frederick II, HRE: age 14 when she married Albert II, Margrave of Meissen in 1255 CE

Anna of Hohenstaufen, daughter of Frederick II, HRE: age 14 when she married John III Doukas Vatatzes in 1244 CE

Marie of Luxembourg, daughter of Henry VII, HRE: age 18 when she married Charles IV of France in 1322 CE

Beatrice of Luxembourg, daughter of Henry VII, HRE: age 13 when she married Charles I of Hungary in 1318 CE

Margaret II, Countess of Hainaut, wife of Louis IV, HRE: age 13 when she married Louis in 1324 CE

Matilda of Bavaria, daughter of Louis IV, HRE: age 10 when she married Frederick II, Margrave of Meissen in 1323 CE

Beatrice of Bavaria, daughter of Louis IV, HRE: age 12 when she married Eric XII of Sweden in 1356 CE

Anna von Schweidnitz, wife of Charles IV, HRE: age 14 when she married Charles in 1353 CE

Elizabeth of Pomerania, wife of Charles IV, HRE: age 16 when she married Charles in 1378 CE

Margaret of Bohemia, daughter of Charles IV, HRE: age 7 when she married Louis I of Hungary in 1342 CE

Catherine of Bohemia, daughter of Charles IV, HRE: age 14 when she married Rudolf IV, Duke of Austria in 1356 CE

Elisabeth of Bohemia, daughter of Charles IV, HRE: age 8 when she married Albert III, Duke of Austria in 1366 CE

Anne of Bohemia, daughter of Charles IV, HRE: age 16 when she married Richard II of England in 1382 CE

Margaret of Bohemia, daughter of Charles IV, HRE: age 8 when she married John III, Burgrave of Nuremburg in 1381 CE

Barbara of Cilli, wife of Sigismund, HRE: age 13 when she married Sigismund in 1405 CE

Elizabeth of Luxembourg, daughter of Sigismund, HRE: age 13 when she married Albert II of Germany in 1422 CE

Eleanor of Portugal, wife of Frederick III, HRE: age 18 when she married Frederick in 1452 CE

Kunigunde of Austria, daughter of Frederick III, HRE: age 22 when she married Albert IV, Duke of Bavaria in 1487 CE

Bianca Maria Sforza, wife of Maximilian I, HRE: age 2 when she married Philibert I, Duke of Savoy in 1474 CE

Margaret of Austria, daughter of Maximilian I, HRE: age 17 when she married John, Prince of Asturias in 1497 CE

Barbara von Rattal, daughter of Maximilian I, HRE: age 15 when she married Siegmund von Dietrichstein in 1515 CE

Dorothea of Austria, daughter of Maximilian I, HRE: age 22 when she married Johan I of East Frisia in 1538 CE

Isabella of Portugal, wife of Charles V, HRE: age 23 when she married Charles in 1526 CE

Maria of Austria, daughter of Charles V, HRE: age 20 when she married Maximilian II, HRE in 1548 CE

Joanna of Austria, daughter of Charles V, HRE: age 17 when she married John Manuel, Prince of Portugal in 1552 CE

Margaret of Parma, daughter of Charles V, HRE: age 14 when she married Alessandro de’ Medici, Duke of Florence, in 1536 CE

Elizabeth of Austria, daughter of Ferdinand I, HRE: age 16 when she married Sigismund II Augustus of Poland in 1543 CE

Anna of Austria, daughter of Ferdinand I, HRE: age 17 when she married Albert V, Duke of Bavaria in 1546 CE

Maria of Austria, daughter of Ferdinand I, HRE: age 15 when she married William of Julich-Cleves-Berg in 1546 CE

Catherine of Austria, daughter of Ferdinand I, HRE: age 16 when she married Francesco III Gonzaga in 1559 CE

Eleanor of Austria, daughter of Ferdinand I, HRE: age 27 when she married William I, Duke of Mantua in 1561 CE

Barbara of Austria, daughter of Ferdinand I, HRE: age 26 when she married Alfonso II d’Este in 1565 CE

Joanna of Austria, daughter of Ferdinand I, HRE: age 18 when she married Francesco I de’ Medici in 1565 CE

Anna of Austria, daughter of Maximilian II, HRE: age 21 when she married Philip II of Spain in 1570 CE

Elisabeth of Austria, daughter of Maximilian II, HRE: age 16 when she married Charles IX of France in 1570 CE

Anna of Tyrol, wife of Matthias, HRE: age 26 when she married Matthias in 1611 CE

Eleonora Gonzaga the Elder, wife of Ferdinand II, HRE: age 24 when she married Ferdinand in 1622 CE

Maria Anna of Austria, daughter of Ferdinand II, HRE: age 25 when she married Maximilian I, Elector of Bavaria in 1635 CE

Cecilia Renata of Austria, daughter of Ferdinand II, HRE: age 26 when she married Władysław IV of Poland in 1637 CE

Maria Anna of Spain, wife of Ferdinand III, HRE: age 25 when she married Ferdinand in 1631 CE

Maria Leopoldine of Austria, wife of Ferdinand III, HRE: age 16 when she married Ferdinand in 1648 CE

Eleonora Gonzaga the Younger, wife of Ferdinand III, HRE: age 21 when she married Ferdinand in 1651 CE

Mariana of Austria, daughter of Ferdinand III, HRE: age 15 when she married Philip IV of Spain in 1649 CE

Eleonore of Austria, daughter of Ferdinand III, HRE: age 17 when she married Michael I of Poland in 1670 CE

Maria Anna Josepha of Austria, daughter of Ferdinand III, HRE: age 24 when she married Johann Wilhelm II, Elector Palatine in 1678 CE

Margaret Theresa of Spain, wife of Leopold I, HRE: age 15 when she married Leopold in 1666 CE

Claudia Felicitas of Spain, wife of Leopold I, HRE: age 20 when she married Leopold in 1673 CE

Eleonore Magdalene of Neuberg, wife of Leopold I, HRE: age 21 when she married Leopold in 1676 CE

Maria Antonia of Austria, daughter of Leopold I, HRE: age 16 when she married Maximilian II Emanuel, Elector of Bavaria in 1685 CE

Maria Anna of Austria, daughter of Leopold I, HRE: age 25 when she married John V of Portugal in 1708 CE

Wilhelmine Amalie of Brunswick, wife of Joseph I, HRE: age 26 when she married Joseph in 1699 CE

Maria Josepha of Austria, daughter of Joseph I, HRE: age 20 when she married Augustus III of Poland in 1719 CE

Maria Amalia of Austria, daughter of Joseph I, HRE: age 21 when she married Charles VII, HRE in 1722 CE

Elisabeth Christine of Brunswick, wife of Charles VI, HRE: age 17 when she married Charles in 1708 CE

Maria Theresa of Austria, daughter of Charles VI, HRE: age 19 when she married Francis I, HRE in 1736 CE

Maria Anna of Austria, daughter of Charles VI, HRE: age 26 when she married Charles Alexander of Lorraine in 1744 CE

Maria Antonia of Bavaria, daughter of Charles VII, HRE: age 23 when she married Frederick Christian, Elector of Saxony in 1747 CE

Maria Anna Josepha of Bavaria, daughter of Charles VII, HRE: age 20 when she married Louis George of Baden-Baden in 1755 CE

Maria Josepha of Bavaria, daughter of Charles VII, HRE: age 26 when she married Joseph II, HRE in 1765 CE

Maria Christina, daughter of Francis I, HRE: age 24 when she married Albert Casimir, Duke of Teschen in 1766 CE

Maria Amalia, daughter of Francis I, HRE: age 23 when she married Ferdinand I, Duke of Parma in 1769 CE

Maria Carolina, daughter of Francis I, HRE: age 16 when she married Ferdinand IV & III of Sicily in 1768 CE

Maria Antonia, daughter of Francis I, HRE: age 14 when she married Louis XVI of France in 1770 CE

Maria Josepha of Bavaria, wife of Joseph II, HRE: age 26 when she married Joseph in 1765 CE

Maria Luisa of Spain, wife of Leopold II, HRE: age 19 when she married Leopold in 1764 CE

Maria Theresa of Austria, daughter of Leopold II, HRE: age 20 when she married Anthony of Saxony in 1787 CE

Maria Clementina of Austria, daughter of Leopold II, HRE: age 20 when she married Francis I of Sicily in 1797 CE

Maria Theresa of Naples, wife of Francis II, HRE: age 18 when she married Francis in 1790 CE

Marie Louise, daughter of Francis II, HRE: age 19 when she married Napoleon I of France in 1810 CE

Maria Leopoldina, daughter of Francis II, HRE: age 20 when she married Pedro I of Brazil and IV of Portugal in 1817 CE

Clementina, daughter of Francis II, HRE: age 18 when she married Leopold of Salerno in 1816 CE Marie Caroline, daughter of Francis II, HRE: age 18 when she married Frederick Augustus of Saxony in 1819 CE

#holy roman empire #history #medieval #early modern

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hislittleraincloud · 2 months

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You know what...

Fuck it.

Life is too short.

I just re-read that story of mine and it's too sweet to relegate towards DMs. I like their coupling, and I really liked this show. It appealed to my obsession about Renaissance Italy. Caterina Sforza is my spirit animal.

You like my writing? Then you have to familiarize yourself with the Renaissance. The Serpent Queen is/was a current show devoted to similar themes (so was the Medici show, but that was fucking awful compared to...), but the show I wrote for was Neil Jordan's Showtime show, The Borgias.

The big story was called 'Cardinal Pleasures', and it was about Cardinal Ascanio Sforza's illicit affair with Lucrezia Borgia (and there is no show canon for this, however it still can fit in canon quite well...and like all older men that I feature in my stories, I had/have a thing for grumpy Cardinal Sforza/Peter Sullivan 🫠).

I am

Yes, it's age gap (but Lucrezia is 17, I think, when they get together, and by then she's already been married off to and SA'ed routinely by her husband, Giovanni Sforza...and she has a child by the stableboy she had an affair with at the time). Ascanio was 40 when they got together, and the main story is not overtly smutty (and even the smuttiest part in the extras is pretty mild/tame compared to what I usually write).

I also wrote REAL smut with Cesare x Lucrezia (down at the bottom, the Bound By Blood tryptych...the second one is the smut). This is the real E/NC-17 one (Cardinal Pleasures rates an R for violence and sex/incest, but not really explicit sex). Their incest is canon, Third Season...they sleep together on her wedding night to Alfonso because Alfonso is too much of a little boy at heart, and Cesare had always been her bae since Season 1 (so...much...sexual tension...throughout the whole show).

I also wrote two screenplays for their Season 4, but all of my notes for the rest of it (as well as my other Borgia writings) were destroyed when my ex (and fkn heinous building manager) removed and trashed all of my belongings from my apartment when I was on a retreat in Rome. I had to get my fans to lend me money to rush back (I paid them all back), only to find the only thing left in here was my dog (and he was scared shitless in his open crate with nothing else around him). I didn't have the will to continue after the notes were gone, but maybe someday in the future, after a re-watch, I might be inspired. (I also never got to write the Civil War-era Borgias thing I was going to do...and that saddens me.) You can d/l the .pdfs of the screenplays from the link...a couple of actors from The Borgias featured in the scripts liked them on Twitter. 💀 I have but one typo in the second one. Hey man, I don't have Betas. I do everything myself in the end, even if I have someone read it over. And the first script has a non-script version/prose version. I didn't get around to doing that for the second script.

Unfortunately I can no longer re-watch on Netflix...they moved it all to Paramount Plus, which I don't have rn. If you do, and you like lush, dramatic, UNDERRATED period pieces, give it a watch.

Anyhoo, here's the direct link to Cardinal Pleasures. It's not a massive monster like Afterburn. Shouldn't take but an hour or so to finish if you're a fast reader, maybe more or less if you count the three extra birthday-themed fics I wrote for @brenli for her birthday. No idea what the word count is since it's only published here on Tumblr and not AO3.

Happy reading...hope you know some Latin 👹 (go grab your translator app).

#the borgias #borgiastories #yes yes #whatever #my writing #my work #other fan fic #my other fan fic #cardinal pleasures #ascanio sforza #lucrezia borgia #ascanio x lucrezia #cesare x lucrezia #off topic

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teecupangel · 11 months

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Okay, so the next Yew Branch fic will be posted on June 24. I have just been reminded that I have been underutilizing the poll feature.

I guess this would count as a 'sneak peek' as well. The hint for the next Yew Branch is: "Giovanni".

#in other words #dear god there's a lot of giovannis #it is gen by the way #ac fic series: yew branches #oh you're still reading the tags?#okay then #it's not a sequel

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thetudorslovers · 1 year

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She was the legitimised natural daughter of the Duke of Milan Galeazzo Maria Sforza and Lucrezia Landriani. A widow of Pietro II Dal Verme 2nd Count of Sanguinetto, in 1487 she married the condottiere Fregosino Fregoso (1460-1512), natural son of the Doge of Genoa and Cardinal Paolo Fregoso. She brought a rich dowry of fiefs, which she had in 1480: Nibbiano, Bellano, Varenna, Mandello, the Valsassina, Dervio and Novi, as well as property in Voghera and Tortona.

Chiara and Fregosino had two sons:

- Ottaviano, condottiere

- Paolo, squanderer of family property, married Paola Visconti and in a second marriage Ginevra da Correggio, daughter of Count Giberto VII.

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shewhoworshipscarlin · 1 year

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Francesco Sforza Count of Pavia known as il Duchetto, son of Gian Galeazzo and Isabella of Naples, 1501.

#1500s #antique #portrait #renaissance #fashion

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brother-emperors · 1 year

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I'm Cardinal (like the bird!) cassius apologist, machiavelli defender, sforza enthusiast, apolinario mabini hype man, instant coffee enjoyer. not immune to the emotional highs and lows of sports ✨ my art only sideblog is @galileoshuffle

a mini intro post because I just saw what the follower count on here was and thought I'd introduce myself real quick outside of what's in my pinned directory post. hello everyone! please feel free to also visualize the person behind the blog as a skeleton with a cup of coffee because that's what my energy levels usually feel like.

#i thought about doing a face reveal for real but its also like. i think the last pic i took of myself was to show off my decay hoodie #house keeping tag

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rhianna · 2 years

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The Nine of Staves

Visconti-Sforza Tarot Cards (MS M.630.1-35)

Tarot Card: Staves -- Nine staves are surrounded by floreate border.

Milan, Italy, ca. 1450-1480

Visconti-Sforza Tarot Cards. Pierpont Morgan Library. Manuscript. M.630.30.

Miniatures (Illuminations)--Italy--Milan--15th century. Miniatures (Illuminations)--Gothic--Italy--Milan--15th century. Tarot card. Cardboard.

Tarot cards--Italy--Milan--Illustrations. 1445-1485. Tarot Card--Staves. Utensil--Stave. Flower.

Artist: attributed variously to Bonifacio Bembo and Francesco Zavattari. School: Italian, Lombardy, Milan. Style: Gothic.

Dept. of Medieval and Renaissance Manuscripts

Description based on record created by Index of Christian Art, Princeton University.

Bembo, Bonifacio, illuminator. Zavattari, Francesco, active 1414-1453, illuminator.

Credit:Purchased by J. Pierpont Morgan (1837-1913) in 1911. Genres:Illuminated manuscripts--Italy--Milan--15th century. Cardboard. Cuir bouilli--France--14th century. Emblems (symbols)--Italy--Milan--15th century. Devices (symbols)--Italy--Milan--15th century. Playing cards--Italy--Milan--15th century. Language:Latin captions on card 9; French inscription on cards 28, 29, and 34: A BON DROYT.

Colleoni-Baglioni tarrocchi deck fragment

Provenance:

Executed for a member of the Visconti-Sforza family (emblems and devices of both families found intermingled on the cards, i.e., the Sforza three interlinked diamond rings, the Visconti ducal crown of Milan with palm and laurel), probably Francesco Sforza (d. 1466), most likely after his triumphal entry as Duke of Milan 25 March 1450; Count Alessandro Colleoni of Bergamo (d. 1900); purchased by J. Pierpont Morgan (1837-1913) through Hamburger Frères, Paris, in 1911; by descent to J.P. Morgan (1867-1943).

#minor arcana #nine #staves #wands #rods #batons #visconti-sforza #tarot card #italy #milan #floreate #flowers and leaves

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disaster-vampire · 1 year

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omg i had no idea he was a real killer and tbh it’s kind of on thomas harris or bryan fuller for randomly deciding that his character was a real serial killer

thomas harris never said that hannibal was the mostro. he mentioned the case in the books in regards to pazzi, tying him to the investigation & grounding the books in real events, but kept hannibal out of it. and i do believe that a lot of the "lore" in the books is tied to the mostro case but more in regards to what surrounded the case than the crimes themselves, even small things like hannibal's mother being part of the sforza family probably has to do with caterina sforza, who died in florence and who was a pretty big deal during the renaissance (not gonna go over her story here because this would get too long). same with dante being quoted, he was from florence and is considered one of the fathers of modern italian as a language, or even something as simple as hannibal being a count & a cannibal, very likely inspired by count ugolino della gherardesca, who appears in dante's divine comedy and who was rumored to have eaten his children in prison after they starved to death (it's unclear whether the rumor started from the way dante worded the verse or not. there's no actual historical proof that he did eat his children but he's known as the cannibal count anyway). there's also a whole bunch of connections to sardinia, both in the real mostro case (the first victims were sardinian and so the police started looking into the sardinians living in florence because they believed it was a crime of passion, before more victims popped up) and even with count ugolino, who used to have a castle in sardinia (i drive by it semi-regularly and my family always told me he'd eat me if i misbehaved as a kid. i still haven't visited the damn castle also). the case was also i think the first italian case to ever have to consult the bau in quantico, and i believe one of the first they've ever worked on because at the time chriminal psychology was kind of considered an unreliable science still. i've ranted about this multiple times so i really think i should write something properly laid out about it at some point but let's move on.

the choice to being the real life serial killer into it (and completely mischaracterise the murders too because i assure you there was nothing artistic about the real ones) was entirely in the team behind the nbc adaptation. i don't know if it can be blamed entirely on fuller but i mean. we're talking about the guy who decided it was appropriate to use the w*ndigo in the show and decided that margot shouldn't be butch like she was in the books because. idk.

anyway i also think folks should learn to google. immediately after watching hannibal i looked up if hannibal lecter & the chesapeake ripper were ever real people or real serial killers. didn't have to google the monster of florence because i'm from italy & my mom told me immediately when she heard the name in the show then i went and watched a whole ass documentary on the trials. sorry for ranting again this is becoming ridiculous of me.

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hvbris · 1 year

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𝐃𝐑. 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐁𝐀𝐋 𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 Silence of The Lambs

Full Name: Hannibal Lecter VIII

Alias: Hannibal the Cannibal, The Chesapeake Ripper

Family: Count Lecter (deceased), Simonetta Sforza-Lecter (deceased), Mischa Lecter (deceased)

Date of birth: January 20th 1933

Age: 50s

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Bisexual

My portrayal is based on the books and the Silence of the Lambs movie.

I will not write him with Mischa Lecter muses. Her death is too central. Hannibal Lecter would not be Hannibal Lecter if Mischa had survived.

TW: violence, cannibalism, murder

Hannibal Lecter was born into aristocracy in 1933, in a castle in Vilnius, Lithuania. He was born with the rarest form of polydactyly, and had six fingers on his left hand. In the winter of 1941, the castle was overrun by Nazi military forces. Hannibal and his family fled to a lodge in the woods where they hid until 1944, when a soviet tank was bombarded near the lodge, killing Hannibal and Mischa's parents. The two children were held captive by a group of former Lithuanian Hilfswillige led by Nazi collaborator Vladis Grutas. With all sources of food exhausted, Mischa was killed and cannibalized by the group, but Lecter escaped. He never grieved the death of his sister, which rendered him mute for many years.

After roaming the woods, he was found by the Soviet army, who brought him back to his family castle, converted into an orphanage. His time at the orphanage was not a good memory. At 13, he was picked up by his uncle Count Robert Lecter, who brought him back to his estate on the banks of the Essonne in France. There, he became very close to his Aunt, Lady Murasaki, his affection later driving him to attack and murder a man who had insulted her. It was his first murder, and his first willful act of cannibalism.

After his uncle's death, he moved to Paris with his aunt, where he excelled in School, and graduated from Medicine School at a very young age.

In 1951, he returned to Litanua to find her sister's remains, and gave her a proper burial. He was attacked by a member of the group who had murdered his sister, but killed and ate him. It then lead to Hannibal murdering all the members of this group in revenge. He was arrested for these crimes, but considering the little evidence found, and the fact that these men had been war criminals, Lecter walked free.

He left France and started an internship at Johns Hopkins Medical Center in Baltimore, Maryland, where he graduated with a degree in medicine and eventually settled and established his Psychiatric practice. He became a leading figure in Baltimore society and indulged his extravagant tastes, which he financed by influencing some of his patients to bestow him large sums of money in their wills.

During the mid 1970s in America, Lecter continued his killing spree, murdering at least nine people, and then eating them, sometimes even serving them during grandiloquent dinners.

Lecter was caught on Sunday 30th March 1975 by Will Graham, an FBI Special Agent who was investigating the crimes of a cannibalistic killer in the Baltimore area. Hannibal Lecter was particularly fascinated (one could say obsessed) with the man.

The courts found Lecter insane; this spared him the death penalty. He was instead sent to the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane for nine consecutive life terms, under administrator Frederick Chilton.

#Hannibal (i am having an old friend for dinner)#long post tw #muse bio

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brookstonalmanac · 11 days

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Events 4.18 (before 1940)

796 – King Æthelred I of Northumbria is murdered in Corbridge by a group led by his ealdormen, Ealdred and Wada. The patrician Osbald is crowned, but abdicates within 27 days. 1428 – Peace of Ferrara between Republic of Venice, Duchy of Milan, Republic of Florence and House of Gonzaga: ending of the second campaign of the Wars in Lombardy fought until the Treaty of Lodi in 1454, which will then guarantee the conditions for the development of the Italian Renaissance. 1506 – The cornerstone of the current St. Peter's Basilica is laid. 1518 – Bona Sforza is crowned as queen consort of Poland. 1521 – Trial of Martin Luther begins its second day during the assembly of the Diet of Worms. He refuses to recant his teachings despite the risk of excommunication. 1689 – Bostonians rise up in rebellion against Sir Edmund Andros. 1738 – Real Academia de la Historia ("Royal Academy of History") is founded in Madrid. 1775 – American Revolution: The British advancement by sea begins; Paul Revere and other riders warn the countryside of the troop movements. 1783 – Three-Fifths Compromise: The first instance of black slaves in the United States of America being counted as three fifths of persons (for the purpose of taxation), in a resolution of the Congress of the Confederation. This was later adopted in the 1787 Constitution. 1831 – The University of Alabama is founded in Tuscaloosa, Alabama. 1847 – American victory at the battle of Cerro Gordo opens the way for invasion of Mexico. 1857 – "The Spirits Book" by Allan Kardec is published, marking the birth of Spiritualism in France. 1864 – Battle of Dybbøl: A Prussian-Austrian army defeats Denmark and gains control of Schleswig. Denmark surrenders the province in the following peace settlement. 1897 – The Greco-Turkish War is declared between Greece and the Ottoman Empire. 1899 – The St. Andrew's Ambulance Association is granted a royal charter by Queen Victoria. 1902 – The 7.5 Mw  Guatemala earthquake shakes Guatemala with a maximum Mercalli intensity of VIII (Severe), killing between 800 and 2,000. 1906 – The 7.9 Mw earthquake and fire destroy much of San Francisco, California, killing more than 3,000 people, making one of the worst natural disaster in American history. 1909 – Joan of Arc is beatified in Rome. 1912 – The Cunard liner RMS Carpathia brings 705 survivors from the RMS Titanic to New York City. 1915 – World War I: French pilot Roland Garros is shot down and glides to a landing on the German side of the lines. 1916 – World War I: During a mine warfare in high altitude on the Dolomites, the Italian troops conquer the Col di Lana held by the Austrian army. 1930 – A fire kills 118 people at a wooden church in the small Romanian town of Costești, most of them schoolchildren, after starting during Good Friday services. 1939 – Robert Menzies, who became Australia's longest-serving prime minister, is elected as leader of the United Australia Party after the death of Prime Minister Joseph Lyons.

#Events

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arobinwithoutbatman · 5 months

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10 fandoms/10 characters/10 tags

...am I really doing this to myself right before bed? Also, excuse the spacing I'm doing this on my phone

-Stephanie Brown

-Cassandra Cain

-Tim Drake

-Dick Grayson

-Jason Todd

-Barbara Gordon

-Duke Thomas

-Damian Wayne

-Alfred Pennyworth

-Bruce Wayne

UnOrdinary

-John

-Sera

-Remi

-Blyke

-Isen

-Leilah

-Doc

-Arlo (reluctantly)

-William

-The Principle

Persona 5

-Amamiya Ren/Kurusu Akira

-Sakamoto Ryuji

-Takamaki Ann

- Morgana

-Kitagawa Yusuke

-Niijima Makoto

-Sakura Futaba

-Okumura Haru

-Akechi Gori

-Sophia

Bungou Stray Dogs (I'm so behind and can't be bothered to catch up)

-Nakahara Chuuya

-Dazai Osamu

-Kunikida Doppo

-Ozai Koyou

-Tanizaki Junichiro

-Fukuzawa Yukichi

-Yosano Akiko

-Izumi Kyoka

-Nakajima Atsushi

-Akutagawa Gin

Yu-Gi-Oh (You're getting dub names)

-Jaden Yuki

-Yusei Fudo

-Akiza

-Jack Atlus

-Crow Hogan

-Martha

-Carly Carmine

-Syrus Truesdale

-Bastion Mizawa

-Alexis Rhodes

Homestuck (im running out of fandoms okay?)

-Rose

-Roxy

-Sollux

-Kanaya

-The Dolorosa

-The Helmsman/The Psiionic

-Meenah

-Feferi

-Aradia

-Jade

Hades (Supergiant)

-Zagreus

-Thanatos

-Megaera

-Dusa

-Nyx

-Persephone

-Artemis

-Ares

-Dionysius

-Cerberus

The Infectious Madness of Doctor Dekker

-Bryce

-Claire

-Elin

-Jaya

-Mariana

-Nathan

...there's only so many characters...

Huntik: Seekers and Secrets (If anyone else remembers this, we should qualify for elderly discounts)

-Lok Lambert

-Sophie Casterwill

-Dante Vale

-Zhalia Moon

-Cherit

-Guggenheim

-Sabriel (the Titans count as characters to me!)

-Kipperin

-Grier

-Lok's mum

Assassin's Creed

-Desmond Miles

-Shaun Hastings

-Lucy

-Rebecca

-Ezio Auditore da Firenze

-Altaïr Ibn La'Ahad

-Ratonhnhaké:ton

-Eivor

-Malik Al-Sayf

-Caterina Sforza

Tagged by: @dramatisperscnae

Tagging: Do you know how long this took me? I'm not tagging 10 people. You wanna do it? Go for it

#ooc #Dash Games

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the-quasar-literata · 8 months

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August 22, 2023

by Lauren Sforza

A judge Monday limited former President Trump’s social media use in connection to the an indictment in Georgia that charged him with 13 counts related to his and his allies’ efforts to overturn the 2020 election in the state.

Fulton County Superior Judge Scott McAfee signed the order banning Trump from contacting his co-defendants or witnesses in the case, except through their attorneys. It also bans the former president from intimidating co-defendants or witnesses in the case, including through posts on social media.

“The Defendant shall perform no act to intimidate any person known to him or her to be a codefendant or witness in this case or to otherwise obstruct the administration of justice,” the order says.

“The above shall include, but are not limited to, posts on social media or reposts of posts made by another individual on social media,” it states.

This is not the first time the former president has been warned to limit his social media use and public statements in one of his ongoing legal battles.

U.S. District Court Judge Tanya Chutkan, who is overseeing Trump’s federal 2020 election case, warned both sides of the case to take “special care” to avoid making any statements that could intimidate witnesses or prejudice the jury pool earlier this month.

The former president and 18 others were charged last week in Fulton County, Ga., for their actions related to alleged efforts to overturn the 2020 election in the state. The defendants have until Friday at noon to voluntarily surrender themselves.

The order also set a $200,000 bond for the former president alongside its warning to not intimidate co-defendants or the witnesses. This order was more detailed than other bond orders the judge signed for some of the other co-defendants Monday, clearly outlining that Trump’s ban includes social media posts and an “indirect threat of any nature.”

Trump confirmed in a Truth Social post Monday that he would turn himself in to Georgia authorities Thursday.

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