Here is my Disney Masterlist! I hope you enjoy it and if you have more Movies/Characters in mind don't hesitate to tell me! If you look for something else like Series, Movies,Horror Movies and more check out my Main Masterlist!
Last Updated: 25.03 25
Main Masterlist
Characters: Ling, Bruno Madrigal, Bobble, James Hook, Syndrome, Clopin Trouillefou, Gaston, Nuca, Wiggins
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Governor Ratcliffe’s clever and mischievous daughter, who hides her conflicted emotions behind teasing and charm.
2. Wiggins
Ratcliffe’s loyal but timid servant, who is both flustered by Roslyn’s antics and intrigued by her moments of vulnerability.
3. Governor Ratcliffe
The vain, greedy leader of the settlers, obsessed with finding gold and controlling everyone around him.
4. Percy
Ratcliffe’s pampered pug, often adding humor with his spoiled, snobbish behavior.
Trigger Warnings:
Power Imbalance: The story explores a hierarchical relationship between a servant (Wiggins) and his superior’s daughter (Roslyn), involving teasing and moments of discomfort.
Mild Emotional Manipulation: Roslyn masks her feelings for Wiggins with sarcasm and deliberately creates more work for him.
Storm Scene (Mild Peril): There’s a brief moment of danger during a shipboard storm, involving a character nearly falling but being caught.
Masterlist
Words: 962
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Scene 1: The Voyage Across the Atlantic
The wind howled across the open sea, filling the sails of the Susan Constant as it cut through the waves. The ship creaked and groaned, its hull burdened by men and supplies destined for the New World. Above the din of the ocean, Governor Ratcliffe’s commanding voice rang out, barking orders to the crew as he paced the deck in his elaborate plum-colored attire. Beside him, Wiggins carried himself with characteristic nervous energy, balancing a teapot and tray while dodging the haphazard movements of the sailors.
Leaning against the railing was Roslyn Ratcliffe, watching the scene unfold. She wore a smirk, her violet cape flaring slightly in the salty wind. Her dark curls framed her face, and her hat was tilted just enough to give her an air of effortless elegance. Unlike her father, Roslyn observed more than she commanded, her sharp eyes taking in the crew’s faces and the restless Atlantic surrounding them.
"More tea, Governor?" Wiggins asked, stepping delicately to Ratcliffe’s side.
Ratcliffe waved him off without so much as a glance, muttering something about how incompetent the men were. As Wiggins turned to return to the galley, Roslyn stepped in his path, her boots clicking sharply on the wooden planks.
“Careful, Wiggins,” she said with an exaggerated tone of concern. “One wrong move, and my father might have you scrubbing barnacles off the hull.”
Wiggins straightened his wig, trying not to fumble the tray. “Yes, Lady Roslyn. I’ll do my best to remain... barnacle-free.”
Roslyn grinned, amused by his obvious discomfort. “Tell me, Wiggins,” she continued, leaning in slightly, “what do you do when you’re not doting on my father? Do you ever dream of grander things? Or is this your calling?”
“I… I prefer to focus on the tasks at hand, my lady,” Wiggins replied, his voice tight.
“Hmm,” Roslyn mused, stepping aside to let him pass. “A pity. I would have thought someone like you might dream of adventure. But I suppose you’re more useful carrying trays, aren’t you?”
Wiggins glanced back at her, unsure if she was teasing him or mocking him outright. “Adventure isn’t for everyone, my lady,” he said, trying to sound polite but firm.
Roslyn raised an eyebrow but said nothing more, returning to her place by the railing.
---
Later that evening, as the ship’s lanterns swayed with the motion of the waves, Wiggins found himself below decks, tending to Ratcliffe’s quarters. He meticulously folded his master’s opulent garments, aligning each ruffled collar and polished boot with care. The governor’s dog, Percy, lounged nearby on a cushion, watching Wiggins with disinterest.
As he worked, the door creaked open, and Roslyn stepped inside, carrying a small book and a look of feigned nonchalance.
“Don’t let me interrupt,” she said, though her presence immediately commanded the room.
Wiggins straightened, placing a folded sash neatly on the table. “Lady Roslyn, this is your father’s private quarters. Is there something you need?”
Roslyn ignored the question, instead running her fingers along the edge of the ornate table. “Do you enjoy it?” she asked suddenly.
Wiggins blinked. “Enjoy what, my lady?”
“This.” She gestured vaguely at the room. “Serving him. My father can be... demanding.”
Wiggins hesitated. He knew better than to speak ill of the governor, especially in front of his daughter. “The governor is a great man,” he said cautiously. “It’s an honor to assist him.”
Roslyn smirked, clearly unconvinced. “You’re very loyal, Wiggins. I’ll give you that. But loyalty and honor only get you so far.”
“I serve where I’m needed,” Wiggins replied, returning to his work.
Roslyn watched him for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then, with a flick of her wrist, she tossed the book she’d been holding onto the table. It landed with a thud, scattering some of Ratcliffe’s papers.
“Oops,” she said lightly. “It seems I’ve made a mess. I trust you’ll clean it up.”
Wiggins sighed inwardly but kept his face neutral. “Of course, my lady.”
As he began to gather the papers, Roslyn leaned against the doorframe, watching him with a mischievous glint in her eye.
“Goodnight, Wiggins,” she said at last, her tone almost playful. “Don’t work too hard.”
And with that, she was gone, leaving Wiggins to wonder why the governor’s daughter seemed to take such delight in making his life more complicated.
---
The next day brought dark clouds on the horizon, and the crew moved quickly to secure the ship. Ratcliffe shouted orders from the helm, his voice barely audible over the rising wind. Roslyn, however, stood calmly near the bow, her cloak billowing behind her as she watched the storm roll in.
Wiggins, carrying a bundle of ropes, paused when he saw her. “Lady Roslyn, it’s dangerous up here. Perhaps you should—”
“I’m quite capable of taking care of myself, Wiggins,” she interrupted, not looking at him.
“But the storm—”
“I said I’m fine,” she snapped, though her voice softened as she turned to face him. “I’m not some delicate flower that needs coddling, you know.”
Wiggins nodded, though he remained uneasy. “Even so, it might be best to stay below deck. Just until the worst has passed.”
Roslyn studied him for a moment, then sighed. “Very well, if it’ll put your mind at ease.”
As they made their way back, the ship lurched violently, throwing Roslyn off balance. Wiggins instinctively reached out, catching her before she fell.
For a brief moment, their eyes met. Roslyn’s usual mask of confidence slipped, revealing something vulnerable beneath.
“Thank you,” she said softly, her voice barely audible over the wind.
Wiggins released her quickly, stepping back. “Of course, my lady.”
They continued below deck, the moment hanging between them like the storm outside—a turbulent force neither of them could fully control.
