#I can forgive him and Hans for being French

[azureintrigue]

FEAST MODE

I don’t know give me all the headcanons of any character you want go Pookie

Do u have a sixth sense for when I wake up OH MY GOD. Right now I am on my measly phone on measly 18%. So forgive if some of these HC’s are a bit rough or the formation is weird.

Today, Frost particularly tickles my fancy.

Look at her and that goofy haircut. So silly.

- You already know this one, but I headcanon her as Wasian! Specifically French on her dads side and Taiwanese on her mom’s. It just seemed to fit her. I also gave her the name Hsiao Han. She grew up with just her mom in France until she was orphaned at seven or eight, and found by Kuai Liang.

- Frost always wanted Kuai Liang’s approval. She’d never had a father figure, but he did not seem to have any intent on filling that gap for her. As a child, she couldn’t help but wonder why he took her in if only to raise her as a weapon. Kuai Liang thought he was doing what was best, giving an orphan a home. Frost felt used.

- She thought then, that it was her ranking. If she could just become something more than a ninja he had to order around, she could receive the attention, affection, and validation she wanted so badly. So, she set her sights on being the next Grandmaster. By any means possible.

- Her ending is so bland and lazy, and i fucking mean that. Not once did she EVER want to coat the world in a winter wonderland, and the Cyber Lin Kuei operation was just a means to get acknowledgment, it literally debases her whole character and makes her a stock villain. Lets be real, she’d go more of a Kung Lao or Sindel route. She’d want to be praised and her efforts be seen. She’d want something that feeds into her confidence and desire for recognition, not a world of ice and snow with a bunch of robots.

- Can’t draw for shit. But she can sing, and she can embroider and sew. Not that she’d ever admit to that last one. She refuses to be delegated to patching up clothes.

- There’s like a blank space where we have no idea what she’s doin’ in the canon. So i head canon during that time she joined up with the Black Dragon. After all, she was seen fighting Cassie in one of their operated fighting rings???

- A bit of a klepto. Not like diagnosed or an actual psychological problem, but yeah she’ll just lift things from people. Pens, things she likes, never heirlooms though. She has a base-level respect in that regard.

- She can’t remember her mother’s face, only her death, and it bothers her deeply.

- Even though Scorpion nearly killed her when she ambushed him during that peace meeting, she actually…doesn’t hate him? He recognized her skill enough to not pull a single punch. She only resented Kuai Liang in the whole situation.

- She knows all the gossip, but doesn’t actually spread it. No, she collects it and then investigates to use as blackmail on people.

- Her room is a mess. Not with dirty clothes or dishes but just…messy in general. Like damn girl how do you know where anything is. She does have a big ass, soft ass, queen sized bed in her room also.

Ok i am on 14 percent my phone is holding on for DEAR life so I am gonna end this here but THANK YOU FOR SENDING THIS I LOVE HC DUMPING

[nonrevelry]

THIS WAS A LESSON IVE COULD'VE LIVED WITHOUT - nxdia, OUCH!

basic information about Ringo, my one piece oc

Ringo Han . 23 years old . he/they . East Blue

main lore

A former butler to the Eden family, a family of nobles that settled in his island/village after being colonized by Celestial Dragons. He served them since he was 17 years old.

He was chosen to be a butler instead of a slave, due to how he "charmed" the female members, especially the only daughter, Evelyn.

Ringo's parents has long passed away at the age of 10, his older brother accompanied him to live and took him under his wing until he was 15, leaving to become a marine. He has learned independence & adapting quickly to survival.

Although being "luckily" pampered by the Edens, they have caused Ringo to have insecurities about his appearance, hence why the bandages on his face, covering his freckles, birthmark & scar.

He had grown a liking towards the daughter, Evelyn. Still, it was long dulled down as he had witnessed the constant lies and flakiness of the girl, trying to blend in with anyone by having no set opinions, or beliefs, basically just wanting attention from anyone who can give it to her. (A/N : so, Evelyn isnt her own person, she just follows the flow of anyone/she's a people's pleaser, wanting praise or attention from anyone. she does not care for the person, and she does not have any empathy)

At age 20, he joined the RA, as he always wanted to see what's more outside his hometown. Also with what he has witnessed with the Edens, he has set a goal to help others and stop those horrible treatments from continuing (A/N : basically he doesnt want anyone else to suffer the same, you catch my drift? i srsly dk how to word this in a literature way HAHA)

tidbits

during his time in the RA, he developed a connection with Vin (shown above, middle), later dating him post-timeskip.

he has developed a slight crush on Sabo & Koala when he first arrived in the RA. later faded out as he focused on East Blue projects & Vin.

he is easily flustered with men of his type. (example : Vin, Law, Sabo, Sanji.)

post-timeskip, he removes his bandages. its to show he is no longer bothered by the horrible comments by the Edens.

he is often with Belo Betty, Ahiru, and Ivankov. with Iva is due to him being curious of being the opposite gender. he does not care about gender roles or what genders are. (boy or girl, you're all awful in some way!)

he is bisexual, he has discovered this long ago when he was with the Edens (pretty butlers of both genders are their. choice. so...)

his role in the East Blue Army is a engineer, navigator & guard. his weapon of choice is usually melee (a crowbar or a bat) but he is also capable in using a revolver & shotgun.

he does have a slight observation haki, being trained with Belo Betty. he does not have any devil fruit abilities either, only equipped with combat skills, like Fish-man Karate (under Koala)

due to his curiosity & quick learning, he reads a lot of books and practices speaking/reading in a few languages (he's from the East Blue, i imagine him to be able to speak some North & Alabasta basically- European (french/german) & Arabic i guess ?????)

his navigator skills are taught from young, however advanced engineering was learned during his time with Edens & RA.

almost and all-rounder, but he cant cook as good as Sanji. pfft-

negatives/others

he is very patient/forgiving, sometimes too forgiving that he does not stop to realize he wasn't a slave. (he has no realization that he was somewhat privileged sometimes, some people were treated horribly and they do not forgive them.) this is however a deflection that he was severely hurt mentally/emotionally by Evelyn.

during the 2 years with Vin, he learned slowly that- its okay to not forgive

although equipped with combat skills & little observation haki, he is still lacking in confidence, he mainly depends on blocking/dodging attacks. only when he is affected by Belo's fruit he is capable of heading through.

he is a workaholic, burying himself in work to block off trauma instead of understanding what can come to terms with it.

artist/author insight

pictured above ; early!female Ringo.

he was originally a self-insert but i was uncomfortable with that thought ngl (the aroace was speaking back)

out of all the ocs, he actually has concept designs/development progress because i had to study how the One Piece world fits, and information about the RA was very sparse!

[mount-st-helens-fancam]

Adding Jezu to the list of ADCs that I will unabashedly simp over dear GOD

[koravelliumavast]

Ranking classical movie music composers based on vibes

John Williams: what iconic movie soundtracks HASNT he done. Harry Potter! Jurassic Park! Star Wars! Indiana Jones! Others!!! All iconic ones and all ones that have so great musical compositions to them that are recognizable and beloved. John Williams is probably one of the most well-renowned composers today.

Michael Giacchino: I will not forgive him for the Up soundtrack. Also his superhero movie song titles have unique names and I love the one song from the Spider-Man no way home that combines all three Spider-Man themes into one song but still manages to make it a unique song.

Hans Zimmer: Pirates of the Caribbean. He also did the lion king and I assume some other Disney movies too. His best known works are in the DC movies but I haven’t seen those. The soundtracks are solid though.

James Newton Howard: THE HUNGER GAMES THE FRENCH HORNS & SAXOPHONES WE CAN HEAR THEM AND WE HAD THE MELODY when we played it for a band concert and the fact that it was almost 8 years ago and I remember that fact says something. Besides that he did the fantastic beasts movies. He really likes to highlight the horns and I love that.

Alan Silvestri: Avengers. His best work is the avengers. Even if you’re not a marvel person you know the avengers theme. It’s such a recognizable song that is such a good earworm. I love how he incorporated the original avengers theme into the song from endgame (portals) without giving it too much of a copycat of the theme. That song gives me chills listening to it.

Christophe Beck: ok less known but he did the Ant-Man movies and in the same vein of Michael Giacchino these titles are fun! But along with those he did quite a few of the marvel TV shows and also Frozen. Christophe Beck really likes strong motifs and themes that can be called back to later. He also likes to highlight the lower instruments.

Danny Elfham: he’s got the ‘weird ones’ the Johnny Depp Willy Wonka, Rango, Alice in Wonderland, Beetlejuice, Nightmare before Christmas. But his music is really solid and fun. There’s not much else to say here.

Kyle Dixon and Michael Stein: ok so it IS two people but they’re the two who did strangers things all four years and even if you dont like the show; the soundtrack is beautifully done with a large number of callbacks to previous seasons. (Best example: Kids is the title of a song in s1. In s4 there’s a song titled Teens that uses the same motif from Kids but changed it slightly to be more grown)

Mark Mothersbaugh: ok so I only have listened to one of his soundtracks but it’s the thor Ragnarok one and I love it. He also did ofmd and yeah. I love the way the synth in Ragnarok is incorporated without making it too much in some of the more orchestral songs

Howard Shore: ok so I only know what’s from lord of the rings from him but I LOVE concerning hobbits as it fits the not concerned with the outside world, bouncy, carefree, happy vibe of the Shire so well in that song.

John Powell: so he did HTTYD and I absolutely ADORE LOVE test flight for many a reason. But mostly because of the FRENCH HORNS and the climax of the song and how it feels mildly action packed but not the sense of dread action packed but more of the carefree action packed.

What have we learned from this: super hero movies have great composers, I can talk about music theory for a long time and don’t even care if anyone is listening, I did know like 3/4 of these composers names without looking it up, and I’m the person the soundtracks are on Spotify for. Furthermore I love French horns despite never playing them and not being able to because I was a woodwind.

[wangisking]

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘  𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆  𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑  𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐘

BASICS. FULL    NAME  :  Augustus Alexander Wang  NICKNAME  :  August and Gus ( in general ), Auggie, Ice Prince, and Guggie ( by Aurora ). Aug and Lestat  ( by Jack ),  NAME    MEANINGS  : Augustus is  Latin for  the great / the magnificent.  Alexander is also Latin and means defender of mankind. From what I know, Wang in Chinese means king.  HISTORICAL    CONNECTION ?  : Though, his dad did think of the Roman Emperor Augustus when they named him, they liked the meaning. It seemed to fit him. They weren’t wrong, he was an emperor and he still has that energy.   AGE  :  22. Like Aurora, he can’t age past 22. He wouldn’t have minded either way.    BIRTHDAY  :  5th  April ETHNIC    GROUP  :   Augustus is half Korean and half Brazilian.  NATIONALITY  :   British LANGUAGES  :   fluent  in  English and French. Conversational Latin. Broken Korean. Learning Urdu. SEXUAL    ORIENTATION  :  demi-heterosexual ROMANTIC    ORIENTATION  :  demi-heterosexual RELATIONSHIP    STATUS  :   Single and doesn’t want to mingle. He had only one serious relationship in the past with Aurora Shams from 2017-2019.  CLASS  :  Upper  class,  Wealthy but not private-jet kind of wealthy.  HOME    TOWN  /  AREA  :  London till he was 10 and Vancouver till he was 17 CURRENT    HOME  :  Los  Angeles PROFESSION  :   Drummer, songwriter, model, and student.    PHYSICAL. HAIR  :  long  and  wavy.  Chestnut brown. Here is an example. It goes down his earlobes in length.    EYES  :  piercing, almond-shaped eyes. Naturally brown, but he wears blue or green contact lenses.  NOSE  :   a Greek nose, straight without bumps. FACE  :  Oblong shaped, sharp and chiseled cheekbones, strong jaw. Masculine features. Example.  LIPS  :  not  full  nor  thin, heart shaped.     COMPLEXION  :  pretty pale. Example is same as the face section.  SCARS  :  one on his chest. TATTOOS  :  a very small ‘10/17′ on his left rib.   PIERCINGS:  earlobes HEIGHT  :  6′5″  or  195cm.   BUILD  :  Inverted triangle. Broad, tapered shoulders. Muscular. Defined, sculpted abs. Long limbs. Broad chest. He was naturally towards the muscular side with broad shoulders and chest. He’s never been on the skinny side. Example one and two   USUAL  HAIR  STYLE  :  he lets his hair do their thing, he styles them a little, but he prefers a messier vibe.  USUAL  FACE  LOOK  :  He looks generally bored. His eyes have a piercing look that seem to be drilling into the person before him. Like he can see right through you. There is an insolent smirk tugging at his lips like he thinks you’re amusing. Almost proud, like he thinks he is above you. There is depth and intensity in his eyes that stare skywards in thought. There is also mischievous, radiant glimmer in his eyes.   USUAL    CLOTHING  :  prince charming meets rockstar. Lots of jackets, darker colors, boots, necklaces and rings. Here is his wardrobe.      PSYCHOLOGY. FEARS  :  claustrophobia and the fear of ending up alone. He always had this creeping feeling that he’d be alone in the end and that he was always meant to be alone.  ASPIRATIONS  :   he doesn’t have any set aspirations. They change every now and then. However, his goals are just to keep his found family happy.  POSITIVE    TRAITS  :  extremely charismatic, intelligent,  academic and studious, alluring and attractive, quick-witted, charming and captivating, articulate and eloquent, adventurous, desirable, analytical, brilliant, friendly, enthusiastic, adaptable, observant, kind, mellow, competent, extremely caring and protective over those closest to him, clever, loyal, clear-headed, confident, humorous, courageous, imaginative and creative, a visionary, refined tastes and manners, daring, dignified, ebullient, deep, remarkable, surprisingly he’s very forgiving, forthright, gallant, logical, gentlemanly and sophisticated, perfectionist, popular, self-reliant, shrewd, witty, suave, curious, and resourceful.    NEGATIVE    TRAITS  :  egocentric, self-obsessed, idle, indifferent, selfish, defiant, arrogant, argumentative, rebellious, kinda lazy, stubborn, distracted, doesn’t really care for morals, blunt, can appear insensitive a lot, is insensitive at times, no filters, can be cold for those he doesn’t care for, emotionally immature, deflects emotions, suppresses his feelings, sorta detached, kinda pessimistic, and unknowingly self-sacrificing because he thinks it’s fair and he deserves it.   MBTI  :  ENTP  (  Ne  dominant,  Ti  auxiliary,  Fe  tertiary,  and  Si  inferior  —  this  means  she  can’t  use  Ni,  Se,  Te,  and  especially  can’t  use  Fi). He  perceives  the  world  by  connecting  dots,  thinking  of  never-ending  possibilities,  looking  for  pieces  of  a  puzzle,  and  finding  meaning  in  abstract.  He  makes  judgments  on  if  what  he  perceives  fits  his  internal  logic.          ZODIAC  :  Aries sun, Gemini rising, Sagittarius moon.  TEMPERAMENT  :  sanguine choleric  ANIMALS  :  parrots and cats because they’re both intelligent but little pieces of shit who enjoy making your life hell.  VICE  :   it’s either his ego or how he ends up detaching himself FAITH  :  currently, he’s Mu.slim. He was born protestant, became an atheist when he was 13, agnostic at 14. Bud.dhist at 15. Taoist at 16. Confucianist at 17. Mu.slim at 19. Doesn't practice it though.     GHOSTS  ?  :  yep.. AFTERLIFE  ?  :   yep REINCARNATION  ?  :  he guesses so. Went  through  it, but doesn’t remember. ALIENS  ?  :  hell yeah. POLITICAL    ALIGNMENT  :  liberal. ECONOMIC    PREFERENCE  :   upper class or upper middle class is good with him.  EDUCATION    LEVEL  :   MSci in Physics from the University of Cambridge. Is opting to specialize in astrophysics soon. FAMILY. FATHER  :  Edward Wang, owner of a chain of fine dining restaurants  MOTHER  :  Elisa Violeta Wang, psychiatrist, deceased  STEP MOTHER :  Chaeyoung Wang, lawyer.  SIBLINGS  :  Cassandra Wang, athlete EXTENDED    FAMILY  :  he is not close with his external family and doesn’t know his birth mother’s family at all. They never wanted him.  FAVOURITES. BOOK  :   Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky, Galactic Dynamics by James Binney, Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Mukarami, Slaughter house Five by Kurt Vonnegut, War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy, and Lord of the Flies by William Golding. MOVIE  :  Scott Pilgrim vs The World 5    SONGS :  All You Want - Dashboard Prophets, Tokyo Smoke - Cage the Elephant, Where is My Mind? - The Pixies, Sparks - Coldplay, Lithium - Nirvana, and Mr. Blue Sky - Electric Light Orchestra     DEITY  :  none.  Let him argue with one and ask for proof of their deity-ness. HOLIDAY  :  Halloween. It’s dramatic and fun. MONTH  :   October, because he met Aurora and Jack this month in 2017. SEASON  :  spring  and  summer. PLACE  :  he doesn’t have a specific place, but he prefers European architecture.  WEATHER  :  cloudy and windy. Sunny if it isn’t too hot. SOUND  :  drums and percussions, the sound of aurora and jack’s laugh, guitars, violins, the sound of wind roaring, music boxes, and the clinking of bangles and jewelry.  SCENTS  :  sage, rosemary, and damascus roses. TASTES  :  chocolate, strawberries, chilies, and fried food.       FEELS  :   the feeling of hitting the drums, wind in his hair, the cold night air, warm morning sun, grass against his fingertips, silk, and touching long hair.   ANIMALS  :  cats and dogs. NUMBER  :   8 COLORS  :  white, cherry red, pink, maroon, wine red, black, and silver. EXTRA. TALENTS  :  he is an extremely talented drummer, good at guitar and the piano, he is talented at songwriting, composing music, he’s exceptionally good at mathematics and physics, analytical skills, storytelling, knows a lot of facts, near photographic memory because he remembers all important historical events with dates and details, academic writing, and brainstorming ideas.  BAD  AT  :   cooking, not very good at driving because he gets distracted, doing one task at a time, playing videogames, actually listening to what people say, being humble, and actually being a good leader.  TURN    ONS  :  this is a complicated question. He needs a very strong emotional connection to feel sexual attraction towards someone. And he only felt it for one person in his whole life. But, what sparked that attraction was a brilliant mind and the ability to connect with his mind on a very different level. It’s not going to repeat with anyone else.  TURN    OFFS  :  literally everyone else. He’s not sorry, but I am. HOBBIES  :  playing the drums, writing and composing songs, reading, solving problems, listening to music, watching shows, getting people to do weird shit, and annoying people.      AESTHETIC  :  crowns, drums, broken drumming sticks, abstract art, the vast space, chess boards, album cases, thrones, the echoing sound of pianos, Greek sculptures, galaxies and nebulas, early morning sunrise through curtains, libraries, equations scribbled on napkins, empty museums, unmade white sheets, polaroid cameras, conspiracy theories, VHS tapes, antique books, cobblestone alleyways, night skies, cluttered books, calloused fingers, crumpled composition pages, guitar picks, vinyl, telescopes, and planets.      Basically: abstract, chaotic academia, cryptid academia, dark academia, indie, kingcore, light academia, musical academia, science academia, spacecore,   QUOTES  :   it’s weird but i can’t decide which one fits him.  FC  INFO. MAIN    FC  :  victor han  ALT    FC  :  n/a. OLDER    FC  :  he can’t age past 22, so he doesn’t need one. YOUNGER    FC  :  none  yet. VOICE    CLAIM  :  both speaking and singing (his accent is posh British with a slight hint of Canadian) MUN  QUESTIONS. Q1  :    If you could write your character your way in their own movie , what    would  it  be  called ,  what  style would it be filmed in, and what would it be about ?    A1 :  The same answer as Aurora, The Tale of Solis et Lunae that stars him alongside Aurora, Lunae, Jack, and Tate, plus more. A cosmic adventure / fantasy / coming of age / superhero / the reluctant hero / the chosen one.  His role is of Aurora’s best friend and her greatest support in emotional and supernatural dangers. He is the time traveler who ascends time and space, so he often also gives her insight and information like the sage. It’ll  expand across dimensions, worlds, and different states of existence. The scenes would be cinematic with a strong soundtrack. I imagine him to have some scenes like Quick Silver in the X-Men movies.       Q2  :   What would their soundtrack / score sound like  ?     A2  :   He would have a 90s grunge or spacey dream rock sound. It ties in with the end of the last answer because i see him in one of those scenes with 90s grunge or maybe classical music ?    Q3  :      Why did you start writing this character  ? A3  :    I made Augustus just a bit before Aurora. They were a two part deal. I don’t know when it began, I just had this image of a tall, long haired boy with piercing, intelligent eyes who’s a smart-ass and likes being a know-it-all nuisance. This character has been the same since he began in 2019 and refused to change. He was always a drummer, he always had the same fashion sense, the look, Gus was always half-Korean, he always had long fingers he wore rings on, and he was always Aurora’s best friend/partner in crime. He remains unchanged and that's why I wanted to write him. This very vivid image of this boy was something I had to pen down. And just my luck, I found a fc who looks exactly how Gus looked in my head.   Q4  :    What  first  attracted  you  to  this  character  ? A4  :   Augustus is just extraordinary. It’s something I always felt about him and Aurora and I don’t see any of my other characters coming anywhere close to them regardless of how much I spent time on them. But with Augustus, his entire image and looks and personality — down to his wardrobe and jewelry was always so vivid in my head. Like I knew this very chaotically handsome boy who was going to turn the world upside down.  His story is interesting, but what interests me more is his perspective on his story. The way he looks at his life and how he is quiet and doesn’t show his pain. How confused he always is. How much he aches but never seems so. The way he loves but doesn’t say even a quarter of the intensity he feels. And how sometimes he believes he deserves suffering because it makes sense to him. I also love the connections he makes and the way he loves so deeply and profoundly but underneath the surface. His connection, love, fears, and hopes with Aurora and Jack for their respective reasons are extremely beautiful.   Q5  :      Describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse.  ? A5  :  Augustus is unknowingly self-sabotaging. He let go the only relationship / love in his life that made him feel like real love just because he thought he didn’t deserve it. And because when he was provoked, it made “sense” to him. He bottles his emotions and pain so much despite their intensity. He never shows how much he really cares and really hurts. And how sure he is that he’ll end up alone without friends and that it makes sense to him. Q6  :      What    do    you    have    in    common    with    your    muse  ?   A6  :    Here’s a fun answer, because I bottle my emotions like him. I also interact with the carefree way he does even if I don’t feel peachy. He’s smart and witty and really hot and I don’t even have that going on for me. So, yikes. Only of Gus’ bad things I share.  Q7  :      How  does your muse feel about you  ?   A7  :  Gus loves interacting with people so he’ll definitely show up to annoy me. Maybe, he might think I’m fun to annoy? Or maybe, we’ll have a similar sense of humor. I think he won’t dislike me. Not sure if he’ll like me. I think he’d think I’m funny in a strange sort of way.  Q8  :      What    characters    does    your    muse    have    interesting    interactions  with  ? A8  :    Aurora, first of all. They have this same brain wave-length thing going on where they’re partners in crime and bffs forever more. He knows how she is feeling and what she’s thinking even before she utters it. If she is about to sneeze, he’d get a tissue ready. He can tell if she is hungry or sleepy with one glance. She can do the same, so they sorta have this weird understanding of each other.  Jack is this older brother figure Augustus loves. He won’t admit it, but he kinda wants to make Jack proud of him. He also wants to provide love and care to Jack that he thinks he deserves but never got. They’re his family now and he’ll never be alone or sad again. He annoys Jack a lot but behind it all, he just wants Jack to think he is needed and he belongs. That if he thinks Augustus is reliant on him, then he has this family he has to protect and care for. He can’t stand the thought of Jack feeling unloved, forgotten, alone.  Tida is another one. There’s this great respect and adoration Gus has for him. Almost like he looks up to him in some ways  He also has a lot of hopes and expectations attached. He feels Tida is everything that Gus himself lacks. He is the ideal boyfriend, kindest person, shows his emotions vividly, and is like a warm and cozy blanket personified. He is probably Tida and Aurora’s biggest supporter and first one to know. He can’t be happier than he is that Aurora found someone as good and perfect as Tida.   Taewon is one really fun character. Their two-way frenemy jealousy spans over years and started in Cambridge when they were both in love with the same girl they claimed to be best friends with. Though, trying to be calm, Augustus was constantly provoked and hurt, made to feel inferior and constantly in fear of his relationship being broken by Taewon’s schemes that he couldn’t say out loud. This dark period ended with a fist fight and baggage of guilt they both carry to this day for hurting each other and the one they claimed to love. Today, they’re way past that and frenemies who have funny quips and arguments for each other. They say they dislike each other. But if the lighting is good, one would be the photographer of the other. Q9  :      What    gives    you    inspiration    to    write    your    muse  ? A9  :  Music  helps  me  imagine  scenes  with  perfect  visual  details.  Any  scenes  from  shows  that  remind  me  of  my  storylines. Q10  :      How    long    did    this    take    you    to    complete  ?   A10  :  I don’t remember. It was many days and I didn’t count because it was in bits and pieces.

[heretic-saint-taliesin]

Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs (BSD)

Word Count: 1877

Pairing: Andre Gide and Hans Christian Andersen

Rating: 13+

Original Toyhouse Blurb:   Hans visits Andre's grave

Warning for mentions of death and abuse, particularly previous relationship abuse. I mean if you know the plot you know why Gide is dead anyways.  Set post Dark Era but before main story.

Read it Below!

I do not forgive him.

I could never forgive him.

But, even then, something still brings me back to pay my respect to his memory. A part of me that still wants to remember the man I knew before he fell to despair. No matter how many times I scold myself, or I remind myself that he did something despicable that could only be paid for by his death, I return to that same churchyard. I still wander the many graves to find the one with his name inscribed upon it and kneel myself beside where he lies. My finger still traces the lettering, reading the name aloud. And I remember him.

Andre Gide was not a good man. But, then again, no man is perfect. I am not perfect - I still forget to eat three meals a day and there are copious innocents who have died because of my actions. Sometimes I forget to shut the window when it rains and I end up activating my ability in an inconvenient place. I’m not perfect. He wasn’t.

But, I do believe that there was good in him, at times.

Today the churchyard is empty, save for a slight breeze. I think there is rain in the air, but I’ll stay as long as it is safe. A few drops warning is enough before I’d have to run for shelter - though if I’m alone… Briefly my mind considers just letting it happen. I can still sit beside him even without my legs after all. It just might be a little cold. But again, it’s a risk.

The grass is well kept, and it's mostly dry. I can feel it rustle against my boots as I walk. Around his headstone it’s much shorter, and the church staff have done a lot to keep it free from weeds. The only displeasing sight are the wilted flowers laid across the mound, the remnants of my last visit here. Kneeling, I brush them away, laying the new ones in their place.

Blue roses. Unnatural, but he always liked them. Andre would tell me they reminded him of my hair.

I liked that.

“Wherever you are, I hope the weather is better than it is here.” my own voice is alien to me when it speaks french. I’d only used it with Andre, (at his insistence that I do, he claimed I never stammered in it unlike in English or my mother tongue) and since his passing I found less and less reason to remain familiar with its sound. Danish could never leave me, of course, and I used a mixture of English and Japanese with the young ones back home. French had become solely associated with my being here.

Fitting, in a way. But I keep talking, despite the nervousness filling me.

“I brought another blue rose, just for you Andre. I think I must be the favourite customer of the flower lady, she thinks I must have an admirer. I see her so often.”

Hardly. Seeing as I cannot, despite knowing I should, move on.

“I told her about you, Andre. She thinks you sound wonderful… I don’t think I want her to know what you were really like…”

He had good moments. He truly did. The Andre I knew before… Before The Order and the Port Mafia, he had been a good man. A man I admired and even overlooked the shortcomings of. Sure, he was brash and loud spoken, incredibly stubborn and would insist on overworking himself to the point of collapse. But there was something about his determination, the way he would have time for every member of Mimic no matter the rank or experience. Something about the way he would smile and let you know you were doing the right thing.

Sitting myself against the cold stone headstone I allow myself to sigh, and to drift back into those memories.

Mimic wasn’t something I had a choice in joining. It was that or continue to live under the abuse of my tutors back in Copenhagen. They had never understood my condition, nor did they want to learn of it either. Andre saw my gift and he offered me a lifeline I never expected. At the time I had no idea what Mimic might want with a merman, but I had little time to think. I joined almost without question, and out of a growing respect for the man who had promised me I would amount to more than just a scholar with an aversion to rainy weather.

He took me aside during my initiation training and asked me if I’d like personal help with understanding my ability, given that it was more difficult to control. That was when I first realised something different was striking up between us.

“There’s something about you when you’re in the water that inspires me, Hans. You always seem so at home there, relaxed. Like your true self emerges when you embrace your ability…”

I shake my head and pull myself out of that tangent before I went too deep. A small laugh escapes me and I turn my head just a little to read his name on the headstone again.

“I bet you’d laugh your head off if the rain catches me and I end up stuck as a fish beside you.”

The words fall on silence. But in my head I imagine him laughing at the suggestion. I’m actually rather tempted to let it happen.

“Where did I lose you, Andre. It was long before you let Odasaku put a bullet through you, I’m certain of that.”

I’m not a stupid man. I knew from the very beginning that Mimic was by no means a peaceful or moral organisation. We killed, we captured, we fought, much like all the other ability user groups across Europe did. We scrapped like starving dogs over the last pieces of meat, barking for dominance and attempting to undermine others in the hope of possible gain. I worked as a spy, so I saw for myself that other ability groups were exactly the same. All hiding behind the belief that they were the ones doing the right thing. We were all the same, just waiting for one of the groups to make a fatal mistake so we could move in for the kill.

It was Mimic who made the mistake in the end.

Something changed in Andre after his organisation was framed for genocide. By that time we’d become closer and more intimate, so I saw for myself the light had left his eyes. His smile, though he still tried to, was more forced. The way he watched as we brought home our fallen friends, he would say goodbye personally to every single one of them, apologising endlessly that such dishonour would forever mark their passings. Andre was more reserved, our conversations became more abrupt and solely about business. Eventually he took to avoiding contact with the rest of us altogether, and I think that’s what hit me the hardest. Andre had always been so open to me, given our feelings, and to be pushed away by someone I’d let myself trust broke my heart.

But even I couldn’t have realised what was to come from that. The bait that lead us to Japan, and the altercations we had with the Port Mafia. By this time Andre had broken me off completely, and we walked separate paths. But my heart still kept me close to him - even bringing myself to Japan in the hope I could talk some sense into him. He had become obsessed with the notion of a noble death. An honourable soldier’s death consumed his thoughts and actions, blinding him to any advice or warnings I had for him. I saw the signs, I watched him falling deeper into despair…

A wet drip hits my nose and jolts me out my thoughts. Rain? No.. a tear. Small relief, I wasn’t about to become a fish out of water. When had I started crying though? I’d been so preoccupied I barely even noticed.

“Doesn’t matter though in the end,” my voice finds me again. Slowly getting used to the french intonations and words. Though I’m sure, were he here, Andre would have pulled me up on some kind of grammar error I hadn’t even noticed I was making.

I’d always vowed to have him learn Danish. Small paybacks.

“I lost you to your own desire to die, and nothing I could have done would have brought you back to me. Andre… If you can hear me…”

I feel my body take a breath on instinct, my subconscious wondering if I truly am about to go through and say what’s been on my mind for months. “I don’t forgive you. I have to say that to you.”

But God. It tore me apart to say it.

“What you did. What you did to children, it was despicable. Andre… I thought you a better man than that. I will never forgive you for it, and nor should you ever be forgiven.”

But it hurt. I still, despite everything. Despite how I was tossed aside for a worthless ideal, how my love was destroyed for the sake of dolce et decorum est. Something, something inside me still wanted that man back. Wanted him beside me. To just have one last chance to see that smile of his.

To have him say he still loved me even when he was in despair.

Hopeless.

I lay the blue rose down beside me, but another splash lands on my glasses, fogging the lenses. Not a tear this time, my head snaps skywards and I can see the clouds pulling in. One drop becomes many, spattering into my hair and darkening the material of my clothing. Far too quick to run and find shelter from.

My skin’s reaction is instant, and I feel the rush inside me as my ability activates itself. Instinctive, and uncontrolled by myself. Though I can help the small hitch of breath and soft moan as the transformation takes place, I refrain from it. I’m alone, and if Andre’s spirit is watching me change he already knows I find the process of turning just slightly more pleasurable than I would want people knowing.

It only takes a few seconds, and I’ve ended up awkwardly sprawled across the grave of my former lover, half naked, and now from the waist down is my tail. Legs and clothing vanished to god knows where whilst the rain falls over me. Anyone who comes by will get the shock of their life, but I can’t find it in me to care. Once again my hands reach for the blue rose, closing my eyes and hearing his voice. So loud I almost want to believe he really is speaking to me, and not just my imagination.

“Blue, matches your hair Hans. I think of you whenever I see them at the flower stall.”

God. I’ll never forgive him. But I miss him.

[chibimyumi]

Hi

I hope you're doing well

I have questions if you don't mind

Who do like Axel von Fersen in Marie Antoinette or Axel von Fersen in 1789 les amants de la bastille and also do you like Marie Antoinette in Marie Antoinette or in 1789 les amants de la bastille

Thank you for answering my questions

Dear Anon,

I am doing well, thank you very much! I hope you too.

Hmmm, as a quick answer I would say I prefer both Marie and Fersen from ‘Toho MA’, but the full answer is slightly more complicated.

Firstly, it is almost unfair to compare them to each other because in MA they are the main characters, whereas in 1789 they are main-support or secondary-mains at best.

Secondly, MA has a far bigger focus on the characters because that is what drives the plot, while the opposite is true for 1789, which mainly sells a spectacle. I myself am more fan of subtle and deep story-telling rather than spectacular shows, so the MA versions of Marie and Fersen are more to my liking.

Thirdly, the quality of the characters also depends greatly on the cast. My first view of MA is the A-cast, and therefore my impression of the characters is that they are incredibly well written. After comparison with other casts however, I started to wonder whether it was just the A-cast being too good, and the musical itself being ‘fine’. (In short; I’m not fully sure how much I’d ‘clearly’ have preferred MA Marie and Fersen were it not for A-cast. Click here for a comparison between the two casts written by my friend @wildandwhirlingwords)

But, I shall go into more detail for both characters why MA’s version appeals more to me - someone who enjoys character writing most.

🌹Marie Antoinette🌹

M.A. 2018

In my opinion Marie Antoinette is better in MA because you see her journey and her motivations. We all know that the historical Queen screwed up majorly, but in MA we see why, and in what ways she indeed had very little other choice from her own perspective. She was a flawed foreign woman in a time and place where flawed foreign women were hated most.

In the beginning of the musical the King comes tell Marie that she’d have to live more economically. Marie is clearly not very enthusiastic to hear that, but she also never protests. She just asks ‘why’ and then accepts the answer - albeit broodingly. More importantly however: we need to keep in mind that despite being called Madam Deficit, the historical Marie Antoinette was actually quite economical at first because the Austrian court where she comes from was way less extravagant than the French. It was after her marriage into French royalty that she became more extravagant, because she was criticised for “not being a proper royal” by the French. According to the court, the 14 year old Marie was “a peasant unworthy of becoming Queen.” When you’re that young and criticised by your entire new life, you do everything in your power to make sure you can actually have a life; you adapt. So when Marie was then suddenly told to stop ‘adapting and be a proper Queen worthy of the French”, we can see why more is at stake than “Karen needs to deal with only 10 dresses a week.”

Something else that adds depth to her character as opposed to her 1789 counterpart is that as the story progresses, Marie actually grows. She becomes more mature and more serious, and you see in her how all the events have a clear toll on her. From her own perspective, she really was trying very hard, but anything she tried was inadequate to improve the situation. What she didn’t know is that no matter how hard she tried, the situation was already un-salvageable before she was even born. The populace AND the court had already decided to hate her for being an unintelligent foreign woman from an enemy state, after all. This is an insight most historians nowadays agree on.

In a later scene where Margrid confronts Marie, she asks the Queen: “what makes you think you are better than us?” Marie confirms nor denies, but replies: “I am merely Queen as I was appointed by God.” When she adds: “All I know is duties, you are free,” there is also a clear sense she genuinely doesn’t know why she was appointed by God, but as she is now, all she can do is her best. She is still ignorant, which was a genuine problem about her. She does not know the hardships of not being from the top rank, allowing her say something as insensitive as: “at least you’re free.” But again, despite her ignorance, her feelings are sincere. From all the unfair expectations she was made to live up to from age 14, you really do see why ‘a life without duties’ seemed so much more appealing to her.

1789 - The Lovers of the Bastille

Marie in 1789 is more of a side-character, and the musical itself just is not very character/story driven as MA is. 1789 has the tendency to take the tropiest of tropes and stay on surface level with the characters. Ouki Kaname is an incredibly good actress and she tries her best; but she cannot do more than the script gives her to work with.

In this musical Marie is not portrayed in a very relatable or sympathetic light. She is extravagant because she has escapist fantasies, but we don’t really see what she’s escaping from. The sympathy from the audience is supposed to be drawn from the tragedy that she’s married to the King but is in love with Fersen. Oh, and she has a son but he’s mortally ill. Meanwhile however, you don’t see how her life is so bad she needs to escape... and you also don’t see Marie really being worried about her son than an occasional: “Oh Ill again? Sucks I guess. Gotta cry my eyes out on my lover’s lap, AHHH FERSEN 💗” It was not until her son had already died that Marie woke up, but the lack of portrayal of Marie’s perspective and the pacing really makes one legitimately wonder whether the child did not just die of Marie’s neglect. And about the forbidden love ...we’ve seen enough love triangles with star-crossed-lovers... I don’t know about you guys, but I am numbbbbb to this “problem”.

When Marie receives message from Olympe that she finally gets to meet her lover after a long separation at the Palais Royal, one of the first things she says is: “is that not the place where revolutionaries and prostitutes are gathered?” This immediately sets up an empathy-barrier between her and the common people. This Marie clearly views herself too good for people who do anything to get by; why would you care about her then? Because Marie’s story is not fleshed out you don’t see parts that can make you go: “oh, the revolutionaries really hate her for reasons beyond her control, she is in danger.” Or “she was raised by a puritan society, making her hate on sex-workers; that’s part of her character flaw.” Instead it’s just this Diva being quite judgemental.

Ouki was trying very hard to make the focus about her own safety, but with the script being what it is... she’s still a mostly unsympathetic character who is a martyr of forbidden love.

There is one scene where we see her take on a much more mature and responsible role. That was the first time I personally felt like Marie from 1789 is an actual human being with feelings and personal difficulties. But in great part this is Ouki’s acting... (the other cast didn’t do much for me). What is also important is that Marie was ‘humbled’ because her son died. Marie did not have much of a personal growth, and then she changes to a more sympathetic person because of an external factor just... feels less earned.

In the finale Marie appears again in her execution clothes, and the way Ouki appeared really felt like a punch in the gut. She sings “as a recompense for our griefs, people have learnt forgiveness.” However, the story skimped over the characters so much I was left to wonder: “who learned to forgive whom?” Do you think the people forgave you? Or was there somebody you hated but now learned to forgive? What was your grudge? Do you understand the angry mob’s grudge?

The finale of the musical treats like after the heroic sacrifice of the protagonist (Ronan) the oppressive monarchy was replaced by a good democracy, and a Reign of Terror will DEFINITELY not happen under Robespierre or something. But if you’ve had a BIT of European history you just know it’s a blatant lie. So the finale just feels too simplistic, and this simplistic feeling was in part presented by Marie’s very empty, lip-service-y line.

⚔️Hans Axel von Fersen⚔️

M.A. 2018

Fersen is a bit harder to compare which version is better, because honestly, depending on who plays Fersen in MA, Fersen is either the most generic Hollywood sweeping-lover-hero, or a diamond mine to excavate. In the same post linked above by my friend, she explains in detail the differences between TashiroFersen and FurukawaFersen. K-musical fans, don’t @ me, but from what I can tell, the Korean Fersens are also very... typical.

In this post I have discussed Furukawa’s Fersen in great detail, so I shall skip over these for this post. But to summarise, when portrayed by Furukawa at least, Fersen in MA is very nuanced and restrained. Even if we do not fully credit Furukawa however, then at the very least the script allows enough space and material for an actor to flesh him out so phenomenally well (I think Tashiro and some other actors just.... really missed out on the potential).

Fersen in MA incredibly memorable because the main atmosphere of the imminent doom awaiting everyone is carried by him in a way nobody else does. The moment Fersen enters you feel the tension that the musical wishes to tell. Fersen has seen revolutions, he’s seen the power of anger; he knows shit is going to hit the fan because he’s familiar with this trajectory. 

Fersen has excellent self control because he knows how a lack thereof would hurt Marie’s reputation and escalate the growing chaos. You can see very clearly how Fersen does want the intimacy, but to him duty and the grander picture has priority. In all the small actions from Fersen you see how he is a savvy intellectual through and through. (More about reservation later).

In contrast to 1789, we also get to see so much more of Fersen in MA because he is the narrator and a main character. Throughout the musical he’s been trying to de-escalate the chaos and even though his plans were actually well thought-out, the problems were just simply too big for any one person to solve. When Fersen mourns Marie there is a clear sense that he is not really surprised, just really upset that things had to come so far. Instead of singing something accusatory to the angry and hungry people, he sings: “fate, why did you give her everything, only to show her hell in the end?” Fersen truly understands why the people were duly angry, but that not taking away his sorrow of losing Marie who he knows is a better person than people make her out to be.

Also in great contrast to 1789, the finale of MA is rather grim. It does not suggest hope or that all problems will eventually disappear. The story for these people have ended, but the problems and the world will continue to our days, and days far beyond ours. It gives a feeling that the world of MA is so extensive that we - the audience - are part of it. In the finale when we see Fersen again, he also stays in tune with this feeling. “How can the problems of the world be solved, what is true justice? We remain clueless” he sings, and the way he looks into the unknown distance is almost a reminder to us that nobody has reason to stop worrying and fight for justice.

1789 - the Lovers of the Bastille

Now if we were to compare MA’s Furu Fersen to 1789′s Fersen, we see a stark contrast between the two. Where Furusen was incredibly reserved and hyper aware of everything, 1789′s Fersen is just the over-romantic lover who had been pining for his love. For a moment Marie realises she probably should not be cheating on her husband and backs away. Fersen however, is the one to make further advances, actively pulling her back to his side.

When he embraces Marie you see how he is just dreaming and indulging, something Furusen would never do. Furusen might hug Marie, but not without sh*tting 50 colours. 1789′s Fersen is the sweeping Romeo that most of history makes him to be, and little more. But again, Fersen plays but a very small role in 1789, so it is also unfair to compare him to MA’s Fersen.

Regardless of whatever nuance might or might not be there however, it is also just quite hard to like this Fersen because he is ‘just another privileged aristocrat who is just needy’. When making out with Marie in Palais Royale they find out that Ronan fell asleep there drunk. Ronan simply complained that Marie was too loud and woke him, and Fersen immediately shuts him up, and then draws his sword at him for ‘speaking rudely’.

First of all Fersen and Marie, if you’re gonna do a clandestine meeting, you CHECK your surroundings. Second of all, FERSEN Ò.Ó, this peasant is untrained and weaponless; you can’t just unleash your high-ranking martial arts at him with a shiny sword. This is EXACTLY the reason the revolution happened; the people were sick of the suppression of the powerless by the powerful. UGHUM. It truly is mind-blowing to consider how 1789 Fersen and MA Fersen are both...Fersens.

This Fersen is not very involved with the revolution from either side. He just proposes to help Marie and the King escape once, but got dismissed immediately. The following time we see him it is in the finale.

There he stands, a knight in shiny armour singing a really hopeful phrase to a relatively upbeat and hopeful music: “do not rely on force, but seek for hope and courage.” Here again unlike with MA’s Fersen, you don’t really feel like this Fersen has experienced anything. It was like he was an employed special guard, told by his boss there’s nothing he needed to do, his boss is dead, and oh wellll, moving on!

Conclusion

Because Marie and Fersen in MA are main characters whose stories are fleshed out, it really is very unfair to compare them to their 1789′s counterparts in a race of ‘who is better’. In the end of the day, 1789′s aim is to sell a spectacle, and it realllly is a phenomenal piece if you’re there for the spectacle. The choreography, songs, stage, everything is masterpiece-level. So if you’re there for the spectacle you get exactly what you went there for. The story and characters however... not so much. If one is more drawn to a direct, glittery spectacle with hands-down-amazing-songs however, they’d probably find Marie and Fersen from 1789 more enjoyable. If you’re into first and impressive impressions, the MA counterparts might demand a BIT too much attention and patience to get into.

Related posts:

Introduction and character analysis Fersen ‘MA’ 2018

Comparative commentary on MA Cast M and Cast A

[hms-chill]

RWRB Study Guide: Chapter 10

Hi y’all! I’m going through Casey McQuiston’s Red, White & Royal Blue and defining/explaining references! Feel free to follow along, or block the tag #rwrbStudyGuide if you’re not interested!

Earl Grey (267): Earl Grey tea is an incredibly common caffeinated tea. It is the base of a London fog.

Hamilton to Laurens, “you should not have taken advantage of my sensibility to steal into my affections without my consent” (267): This quote is from an April 1779 letter and is immediately followed by “But, as you have done it, and as we are generally indulgent to those we love, I shall not scruple to pardon the fraud you have committed, on one condition; that for my sake, of not your own, you will always continue to merit the partiality, which you have so artfully instilled into me”. Essentially, “you were rude to me, but I love you so much I forgive you as long as you look after yourself”. Just before it, Hamilton’s like “you taught me what it means to love”. (You can find it here)

Pyramus and Thisbe (268): The pair of lovers whose story inspired Romeo and Juliet, they were separated and could only talk through a wall between their houses (I’ve written a very in-depth analysis of this myth, which you can find here).

Dulles International to Heathrow (268): Dulles International is the airport in Washington, DC, and Heathrow is the classy airport in London.

John Cusack (270): An American actor largely known for his roles in the 1980s. This line in particular likely references Say Anything..., a romantic comedy known in part for a scene where Cusack’s character stands outside a girl’s window and plays music from a boombox.

Y’all had to marry your cousins (270): A reference to the royal tradition of only marrying other royals, which led to a whole lot of inbreeding.

Consummation (275): To consummate a marriage is to have sex for the first time, therefore making it “official”. 

Wilde’s complete works (276): Oscar Wilde is an Irish author famous for writing satires and also defining gay culture in the late 1800s. 

Fit of pique (277): If someone does something in a fit of pique, they do it spontaneously and out of anger at being wronged.

Mr. Darcy brooding at Pemberley (278): In Austen’s Pride and Prejudice (spoilers, though it’s been out for 207 years), after Elizabeth rejects Darcy’s first marriage proposal (which is essentially “your family sucks but you’re hot; marry me”), he goes back to the house his family owns and thinks about it and misses her.

Anmer Hall (278): A house owned by the Crown in Norfolk, England; it is currently home to Prince William, Duke of Cambridge.

Mel and Sue (280): A comedy duo and hosts of The Great British Bake Off. Sue was outed in 2002, but claims that “being a lesbian is only about the 47th most interesting thing about me”.

South Kensington (284): A district of West London known for its high density of museums and cultural landmarks.

Prince Consort Road (284): Prince Consort Road is a street in London named after Prince Albert, consort to Queen Victoria. A consort is a royal’s spouse or partner (hence Alex laughing at the idea of his being a prince’s consort)

Ferris Bueller/ Sloane (284-285): Ferris Bueller’s Day Off is a popular movie from the 1980s about Ferris, who skips school for a day of wild shenanigans in Chicago. Sloane is his girlfriend who’s roped in for the ride. 

Victoria and Albert Museum* (285): The Victoria and Albert Museum, often abbreviated “V&A”, is the world’s largest museum of applied and decorative art and design. (you can explore their collections here)

Renaissance City (285): Room 50a of the V&A is full of Renaissance sculptures. (photo here) 

Seated Buddha in black stone (285): The V&A has a bunch of Buddha sculptures, but this one is the only one I saw that’s in black stone.

John the Baptist nude and in bronze (285): Possibly this piece from 1881 by French sculptor Auguste Rodin and is in the V&A’s collection.

Tipu’s Tiger (285): A nearly life-sized semi-automaton that shows a tiger mauling a man in European clothes. The tiger makes growling sounds and the man screams and waves his hand when a handle on the side is turned; it also contains a small pipe organ on the inside and was created to show the power that the Tipu Sultan of India held over invading Brits. The “give it back” that Catherine argues for is officially called repatriation, it would mean that (Western) museums have to give back stolen objects; British museums are famously bad at doing this. (see Tipu’s Tiger here)

Westminster (286): Westminster Abbey, a church in London where royals are crowned and buried. It is covered with intricate carvings and beautiful stained glass.

The Great Bed of Ware (286): A bed made by Hans Vredeman de Vries from the 1590s; it is ten feet wide and made of oak. (see it here)

Twelfth Night (286): A Shakespeare comedy full of chaos that includes a woman cross-dressing, then her twin brother being mistaken for her. 

Epocoene (286): A 1609 play that includes a boy dressing as a woman to dupe a man into giving his son an acceptable inheritance. 

Don Juan (286): A Spanish figure known for his powers for wooing women; the first text published about him was in the 1630s.

Florence (287): Florence is a city known for its art; it was the cultural center of the Italian renaissance. 

Gothic choir screen in the V&A’s Renaissance City (287): This Roodloft, or choir screen, carved by Coenraed van Norenberch is in the back of the Renaissance City in the V&A. It’s a stunning piece; the link above has great pictures and a more in-depth description than I could give.

Zephyr statue by Francavilla (287): You can see this statue here; it was one of thirteen statues commissioned for the garden of a villa near Florence. According to Greek mythology, Zephyr (the west wind) was married to Chloris, goddess of flowers.

Narcissus (by Cioli) (287): This statue may have once been the centerpiece to a fountain with Narcissus looking into an actual pool; it depicts him in the moment he sees and is mesmerised by his reflection.

Pluto stealing Proserpina (287): Likely the statue “The Rape of Proserpina” by Vincenzo de' Rossi. I couldn’t find it on the V&A’s site, but there’s more info here.

Jason with the Golden Fleece (287): This is a sculpture of a very naked Jason, the Greek hero who stole the golden fleece. He was helped by its owner’s daughter, who was in love with him, but whom he later abandoned. You can see the statue here.

Samson Slaying a Philistine (287): You can see this statue here. Henry does a pretty good job of explaining the incredible history behind it; all I have to add from my (limited) research is that it is remarkable in part for the fact that there is no one point on it that draws the eye-- it demands to be looked at completely or not at all.

Victoria and sodomy laws (288): Queen Victoria famously instituted a whole lot of anti-sodomy laws.

Viau on James/George (288): A 1623 poem by Théophile de Viau:

“Apollo with his songs

Debauched young Hyacinthus

Just as Corydon fucked Amyntas,

So Caesar did not spurn boys.

One man fucks Monsieur le Grand de Bellegarde [a friend of Viau],

Another fucks the Comte de Tonnerre.

And it is well known that the King of England

Fucks the Duke of Buckingham.”

“Christ had John, and I have George” (288): This is an actual thing that James I/VI said to the heads of the church. Here’s the full quote, from wikipedia (emphasis is my own): “I, James, am neither a god nor an angel, but a man like any other. Therefore I act like a man and confess to loving those dear to me more than other men. You may be sure that I love the Earl of Buckingham more than anyone else, and more than you who are here, assembled. I wish to speak in my own behalf and not to have it thought to be a defect, for Jesus Christ did the same, and therefore I cannot be blamed. Christ had John, and I have George.”

George iii (289): George III was the king against whom the American colonies revolted. He was deeply religious and instituted laws declaring that royals could not marry without the approval of the court.

Convent church of Santa Chiara in Florence (290): This church is no longer a church, but the altar chapel is in an alcove in the V&A. It is the only Italian Renaissance chapel outside of Italy. (you can see photos of it here and here)

Santa Chiara and Saint Francis of Assisi (290): Saint Francis of Assisi founded a few different monastic orders and is one of the most celebrated saints; Saint Clare of Assisi founded a women’s monastic order and wrote the first set of monastic guidelines by a woman. 

Blessed Mother (290): Mary, the mother of Jesus, one of the holiest figures in Catholicism. 

“Come, hijo mío, de la miel, porque es Buena, and the honeycomb sweet to thy taste”** (290): “My son, eat thou honey, because it is good; and the honeycomb, which is sweet to thy taste. So shall the knowledge of wisdom be unto thy soul: when thou hast found it, then there shall be a reward, and thy expectation shall not be cut off” -- Proverbs 24:13-14, King James Version (yes, that King James. He translated the Bible to make the church stop hating him). 

David and Jonathan (290): An aggressively gay couple from the Bible who have been presented as friends for centuries. Jonathan was a prince and David a shepherd, but God promised that David would be king one day. Rather than argue this or hate David for it, Jonathan welcomed David into his household and loved him despite the prophecy that he would one day usurp him. Following Jonathan’s death, David took in Jonathan’s son and looked after him. 

Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, amen (291): Many Christian prayers end with “in the name of the Father, the son, and of the Holy Spirit, amen”. It’s a way of celebrating the god who gives you all of the good things in your life while also giving up control to them. 

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A fill in from chapter 1, as requested by someone on AO3: 

Deputy Chief of Staff (Zahra’s position, 23): The Deputy Chief of Staff is the top aide to the president’s top aide, and is responsible for ensuring that everything runs smoothly within the bureaucracy of the White House. 

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*This museum puts out books called “maker’s guides” that teach you how to make pieces based on things in their collections; they’re super duper cool.

**I’m not a theologian, but I am a pastor’s kid, and just... this gets me. This whole bit, but this Proverb especially. Like obviously there’s the “oh we’re kissing and I’m thinking about honey tasting sweet”, but verse 14 coming in with the “when you’ve found what’s right, you will be rewarded with the confidence of that rightness and you will have hope”? Just kill me outright next time. Don’t make me google my own murder weapon.

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If there’s anything I missed or that you’d like more on, please let me know! And if you’d like to/are able, please consider buying me a ko-fi? I know not everyone can, and that’s fine, but these things take a lot of time/work and I’d really appreciate it!

—–-

Chapter 1 // Chapter 9 // Chapter 11 

[kyloreyorgana]

STAR WARS 9 ! TROS SPOILERS !

In case this is not obvious enough, this post will contain SPOILERS for the last Star Wars movie, which I’m just now coming home from. These are my first thoughts. I have tried to tag as best I could so that people who mute the tags don’t see my post. Do not proceed f you don’t want to read any spoilers.

You have been warned. Long (and I mean LONG) post ahead.

First of all, I’m happy to be back y’all! Just with TLJ, I come from months (or has it been years already ?) of inactivity to jump right back into the fandom, as obsessed as I was back when I came home from TFA. Which is funny because at the time TFA came out, I had lost all interest in Star Wars and heard so many critics from people who’d seen it and said it was horrible and that Disney basically sold the franchise to the devil that I didn’t even want to see it, to keep the good memories closer to my heart. One night, one month after its theatrical release, I thought “aw fuck I might as well see it, at least for Carrie, Mark and Harrisson” so I went to the cheap theater that was near my home... I had zero expectation, and really I think it’s the reason why I loved the movie so much. I didn’t chose to ship Reylo, this ship whacked me like Harley Quinn’s oversized hammer with the Hades and Persephone aesthetics. When I came out, completely mesmerized with what I had just seen, I jumped on Tumblr as soon as I got home, and I ended up creating this blog just days later. I wanted more and more, fics, metas, fanarts, headcannons, theories, cracks, I could never get enough. For TLJ and TROS, I had lost most interest in the fanfics and the fandom (because as much as I love the movies and some people in the fandom, most of it can eat shit as far as I’m concerned). I heard so many critics of TROS already, I was afraid I was going to be disappointed. But I loved it. Only Star Wars can make me go from utterly uninterested to “Wow I can’t wait to see this new Star Wars in theater, what a time to be alive”, to a stage of total obsession that lasts for months. And that is the reason why I don’t give two shits about anyone disliking the movies. It’s sad you didn’t like them, but it made me feel the same way I felt right back when I was a child watching the original movies with my father. It feels like home. And that is the best thing I could ask for.

Like in TLJ, I cried as soon as I heard the first note of the opening. The last Skywalker story, the last time I ever see my Space Mommy on the big screen...

I know the Reylo community is about to be nuts. The whole movie, like TLJ before it, is basically a series of things we’ve already done in fics and theories. I am 100% positive I have read a fic where Rey and Ren try to hold back a ship with the Force and Rey ends up involuntarily shooting lightning. Whichever one of you did it is probably going to have a stroke in the theater. I nearly did.

And really, I wish I could see the look on the Antis’ faces when they see the movie. I’m sure it is a sight to behold. I wanted to scream “TAKE THAT, BITCHES” more than once. As in TLJ.

My biggest fear was what they would do with Leia. I knew Disney said they wouldn’t use CGI and chose to stick with the scenes Carrie had already shot, and I was afraid it wouldn’t honor Leia’s legacy. Well I... have mixed feelings. While the way they used Carrie’s scenes and made it look like she really is here is to be lauded, it sometimes feels like Leia had nothing interesting to say but they tried to put her in a dialogue anyway, because she needed to be seen doing (or rather, saying) something in the Resistance. And about her death... I still can’t put my finger on what exactly I didn’t like about it but I felt like something was missing. Watching the scene, at first I didn’t know if she was having a heart attack or if she stabbed herself or chose to give up her life because she somehow felt it was the moment, I’m still not sure just why she did what she did. I wish they put something more to motivate her decision and explain what exactly she does. I don’t know, a flashback of Leia holding baby Ben, a little more dialogue, something. Not just Leia suddenly getting up and going to bed whispering her son’s name. 

I knew I was going to be disappointed. Among all the celebrities’ deaths, Carrie’s is the one that affected me the most, and believe me I was a wreck when Bowie passed. I miss her, I think about her every single day. And Leia deserved more, much more. When I saw TFA, part of the reason why I loved the movie was that, even though it pained my heart that Han and Leia’s son turned out this way, I thought they would make it right. I spent hours imagining a scene in the 9th movie where Ren would defeat Rey (incapacitate her the Skywalker style cutting her hand or something) and approach to give the killing blow, and Leia would enter the scene, pick up Rey’s lightsaber, look her son dead in the eye and say “Over my dead body, son”. Because Leia would never give up without a fight, even with her son. And she would get her son back, and her story arc would have been completed. I would have paid good money to see this. 

Episode 9 was supposed to be Leia’s movie, just like ep. 7 was Han’s and ep. 8 was Luke’s. When Carrie died, I knew it would be compromised and it broke my heart, because Leia deserved better. She lost everything. Her parents, her planet, her father, her husband, her son, her brother, the Rebellion, the Resistance, everything. She fought all the way, all her life even faced with the worst odds she never gave up hope, she inspired hundreds of people to keep fighting for what is right, and she would never have a satisfactory ending. What a fucking heartbreak. She didn’t even get to see Lando. Leia deserved more. Every little girl in this world who grew up with her as a role model deserved more. But c’est la vie, as we say in French... My only solace is that I know fanfics and fanarts are going to make me feel a little better about it.

Of course I cried every time I saw her on screen, and especially when they honored her body, as we all honored Carrie when she passed away. This was one of the many fanservice moments, and surely the one I liked the most, although there was some concurrence (more to it later).

Another thing I didn’t like is what they did to Poe’s character. Many people disliked TLJ because of it, which they attributed to a political agenda of hate on men. This is so ridiculous and has already been debated enough that I won’t get into it. I did like the evolution of his character in TLJ, because for me it was an interesting character development as well as a good message: wartime is not only about barging in fights head first, shoot first think later, as is, let’s be honest, everything Anakin ever does. At one point, the narrative of the reckless hero who saves the day when a situation seems impossible and everyone begs him not to do it gets old. Sometimes in war, you have to think ahead, to plot, and yes, listen to what your allies have to say. And it actually was a good critic of toxic masculinity. Could the conflict between Poe and Holdo have been avoided with minimally sane conversation ? YES. But the message was here (as were Holdo’s hair and dress and WOW gurl) and I thought that was it, and Poe would evolve into a wiser person.

But this Poe is, at least in the first half of the movie, not very likable. Hear me, I never really liked Han Solo (never been into macho men) but I really loved Poe in TFA because he was genuinely nice and brave. Here, he’s bitter and annoying. I told myself that he was jealous of Rey because he heard of Finn’s crush on her and he wanted to keep Finn all for himself, which I know is just a crack headcannon, but hey, anything to make it better I guess.

Of course, I’ll never forgive Disney for not making FinnPoe a thing, when even Oscar Isaac ships them hard. And trying to make Poe flirt with the other girl (whose name I even forgot and whose face we didn’t even see, now tell me again how Star Wars has been corrupted by feminists... sigh)  Speaking of, it is me or did two women kiss at the end ? 

I liked the new droid, it reminded me of my puppy. But at the end, it was just another fanservice moment, it didn’t really do anything useful onscreen apart from being cute and funny.

When Rey was finally revealed to be a Palpatine as I hoped, I giggled like a wee girl. Watching TFA, I begged the old gods and the new that they wouldn’t make her another Skywalker, because it would’ve spoiled the Star Wars spirit for me. The whole franchise, in my opinion, is a story about fighting for what you believe is right, no matter who you or your parents are or where you come from. Even though Luke and Leia’s ended up being Vader’s children, they weren’t the only meaningful characters. Anakin was basically a Space Jesus and went from a total nobody to the Chosen One. I didn’t want Rey to be a Skywalker because it would mean that your importance would only ever lay in your bloodline, and that is depressing and totally against the spirit of the Rebellion/Resistance: no matter who you are, you can fight for what is right. For this reason, I wished for Rey to be either a real nobody or Palpatine’s granddaughter, which is also why I liked the fact that Han and Leia’s son turned out bad, even though it made me sad for them (Leia didn’t deserve this). No matter your bloodline, you can always make things right, or fuck up badly if you let yourself be taken away. And, of course, the reveal that Rey and Kylo Ren are two sides of the same coin (aka one of the many times where I picture us Reylos screaming CALLED IT in our seats) was exactly what I hoped for, a beautiful balance. I didn’t share Palpatine’s implication that a Palpatine and a Skywalker are meant to work together, though. That is not how I choose to interpret this duality. That is not what they end up doing, anyway.

Speaking of that old pal Patine, seeing the trailers I feared I would feel nauseated that they chose to reanimate the Big Old Villain, just like they reanimated the Even Bigger Death Star in TFA (how lazy can you be ?). But I enjoyed it. What saved it was Palpatine’s will to be killed by Rey to perpetuate the Sith rite of passage. I don’t even care if it’s cannon or not. I was afraid they would recreate Vader’s dilemma in ROTJ with Rey, but I liked the choices she made. And the throne scene worked for me. Like the rest of the movie it was flawed, for instance we don’t even get an explanation on how he survived. Just like we don’t even get what Finn wanted to tell Rey, even though it was emphasized several times. Was it a love declaration ? What happened to the rushed romance with Rose in TLJ ? (What happened to Rose, actually). While we’re at it, why did Palpatine want Ren to kill Rey ? So many questions. So many flaws.

And, of course I cannot comment this film without mentioning my sweet star-crossed lovers, Rey and Ben. First, I’m really eager to see your reactions. We did it, Reylos! Years of hate and slander and we were right all along. Let’s rejoice.

I like Rey’s evolution. For the moment, I don’t feel like I have too much to say about it (which is fine because this post is way too long already). I like the way she handles her emotions, I like her choices and her character evolution. 

And Ben. Oh, sweet Ben. Although I think the part where he gets his old mask fixed wasn’t necessary, I kinda like what they did with him as well. I must say though that I liked his hair in TFA better.  Oh boy, I loved Kylo Ren but I absolutely adore Ben Solo. And I think the way the movie depicts him even surpasses some fics. The moment when Rey gives him the lightsaber and he gets up and does the Han shrug  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  I almost lost my mind. This ties with the hommage to Leia’s body as my favorite fanservice moment.

And their relationship... Look, I know I wet my pants really enjoyed myself in TLJ when they held hands, but that scene felt rushed even for me who ships them with the force of a thousand suns. Like many things in TLJ (and, as I said, also in TROS) it felt like things I had already seen in fanfics, but in the fics I enjoyed the most Rey had tried to kill him at least 5 mores times before even agreeing to have a one-on-one conversation with him. Their romance in TLJ felt like it was hormone-driven, but I get Johnson couldn’t really do a slow burn in 2 hours. When Leia died and they both felt it in the Force, I could feel that Rey wanted to touch him, to confort him, to grieve with him. I’m glad she didn’t. It wasn’t time. And I really like that she told him she wanted to hold Ben’s hand, not his. And Ben, the Dork Knight, finally realized that if he wanted The Girl, he shouldn’t, you know, threaten her and chase her but get back to the Light Side like she begged him multiple times. Because he really isn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, this is apparently what makes him choose to tip over. That or the fact she saved his life. I was still frustrated by Leia’s death so I don’t know if I’m not entirely convinced because it happened just after, I’d have to watch it again. I liked Han’s moment, though.

And in my opinion, Rey and Ren’s fight on the wreck of the Death Star is as good as Anakin and Obi-Wan’s. My Reylo heart will always have a special place for their couple fight in TLJ (aka the best non-sex sex scene in cinema, don’t @ me) but I also liked this fight in light of their relation. Surprisingly, it reminded me more of their fight at the end of TFA, when we see Ren holding his blows and Rey barging in. I thought it was endearing.

The end. Oh my god, the end. I can’t wait to see the first gifs and I really really can’t wait for the HD gifs, because oh boy, I now only live for Ben Solo’s smile. That’s it, I found my will to live, my depression is cured. And the way he handles Rey’s body with the utmost care (while Finn apparently watches it and does or says nothing). And that kiss... And the SMILE. And the KISS. 

Oh, dear gods. Oh dear.

I can’t wait for the first fics in which Ben doesn’t die and they live happily ever after on Tatooine or Naboo or wherever they damn want. Or the fics where he is indeed dead and they still share a beautiful relationship (if Force Ghost Luke could get his X-Wing out of the water, I’m eager to imagine what Ben would do with his Force dick, tongue and fingers. Forgive me, it’s getting late and I’m still flustered thinking of their kiss)

And the fact that she declares herself a Skywalker ? I know a lot of people are disappointed in this, but apart from the fact that she completely deserves the title in my opinion when she inherited the will of both Luke and Leia, which is reason enough, she is absolutely married to Ben and deserves her place in that family. Also, it’s again a beautiful way to remind you that bloodlines don’t matter as much as what we choose to do with our lives. And while I’m glad they showed Leia’s Force ghost (I would’ve been really mad if they didn’t) I’m super frustrated they didn’t show Ben’s. What am I to believe, that he gave his life for her, became one with the Force and vanished into litteral nothingness for him to never be seen again ? Like hell I don’t. Again, counting on the fics and arts to right this wrong.

The movie sure has its flaws, and I still have many unanswered questions, like what the fuck is the badge Maz gives Chewie, or how Rey does her lightsaber staff at the end, and I wish they explained some things better. I wasn’t sure if the saber Leia wanted Rey to have was hers or her mother’s. Most of those questions will be answered by bigger geeks than me in this fandom, so I really can’t wait to read from y’all.

I know a whole lot of people are going to hate the movie. The antis, the gatekeeping trve fans (already I’ve seen people say that those who enjoyed the movies are not Real Star Wars Fans and welp, we’re going to see a lot of shit). The manbabies who genuinely believe in a feminist takeover and see equality as a direct threat. I’m specifically happy they will be disappointed while I got the privilege of enjoying Star Wars as much as I did. It’s not my fault, or Disney’s fault even, that they turned out to be on the Empire’s side. And the day has not come when I defend a megacorporation. 

Leia was the first SJW. The Resistance lives on. People will always fight against evil, like it or not. I know the world is a shitty place and we don’t have much hope nowadays for things to get better, and Star Wars has always motivated me to keep going and stick to my values and my convictions. I felt chills several times in the movie, like at the end where everyone comes to fight, and now I’m more willing to keep fighting than ever. For Leia.

Godspeed, Rebels! 

[bluehhj]

listen to me — chapter 22

LISTEN TO ME — 0022

listen to me masterlist;

WORDS: 2.2K

"Can we talk?" — Chaerin asked after a few moments of silence, waking Jisung from his trance state.

"We have nothing to talk about," — he was harsh and, as much as he wanted to close the door on the girl's face, it was as if an invisible force was still neutralizing all his actions. His mind didn't want to hear him; his heart, however, acted in an opposite way and gradually accelerated the beats.

"I know you don't wanna hear me, but give me only five minutes," — Chaerin pleaded. — "Please."

Jisung wanted to scream at the top of his lungs, curse his ex-fiancée of the worst possible names, cry until his throat was dry, because all the little bricks he had tried to pry in the last few weeks were crumbling to the floor. It was as if he had gone back to zero again, the pain was the same.

"What do you want to talk?!" — he cried, opening the door. — "You came to laugh at me and invite me to your wedding with Seungmin?!"

"Jisung-..."

"I hate you!" — the rational part of Jisung shouted for him to control himself and not explode as he was doing, expressing how weak he was, but his impulses were so strong that he couldn't disobey them. — "Did you have to end things like that?! I deserved a fucking explanation!"

The girl closed her eyes and lowered her head. It was evident how embarrassed she was. She couldn't think of what to say, since she was the only one wrong in the story and what she had done had no right of forgiveness. Her biggest desire was to be able to go back in time and rewrite the plot in a different way, starting with not getting into Jisung's life, who had every reason to say that he hated her. Chaerin would hate herself too if she were in his place.

"I drank too much that day," — she murmured, not brave enough to look at him properly. — "The alcohol was still acting and didn't let me think straight, it was all so fast... I'm so sorry, Jisung."

"No, you're not sorry, you selfish! And to think I've been worried all day thinking that something bad has happened, and you drinking with that-..." — he interrupted himself, tending to calm down again. Dropping his temper on Seungmin and lamenting his frustrations for Chaerin would only make him feel more pathetic, so he turned away and turned his back on his ex-fiancée. — "You've made your choice, now get out of my house."

Chaerin sighed. Somehow, she already knew she wouldn't have the opportunity to speak even a third of what she should, but it wasn't as if she were in a position to refute.

"I just hope you can forgive me someday," — she said regretfully, and took one last look at Jisung's back before heading toward the exit. However, as she was passing the electronic gate, she heard Han's voice call her name and turned to face him.

"I even wanted to, but the truth is I don't hate you," — Jisung began. — "And hurt is one of the worst feelings of all, because it destroys the person gradually, and I won't self-destruct for someone like you. So, yes, I forgive you" — he watched the other's eyes widened. — "But I don't want to think that you exist or have ever existed in my life. Just be happy and also forget me, it's the last favor I ask of you."

Chaerin nodded, feeling the weight on her shoulders lighter. She had always admired Jisung, but, at that moment, she could say with a hundred percent certainty that he was one of the most incredible people she had ever had the pleasure of meeting. In addition, she also hoped that he'd find in another person the true happiness that she wasn't able to provide him, she just didn't know that this same person was much closer than she could imagine.

♡˖°

Jisung closed the door and collapsed.

His body slid through the cold wood and reached the ground; soon, his arms wrapped around his knees and he began to cry. The sobs filled the whole house, which never seemed so big as that morning. He felt alone, lost, exhausted. He wanted something he could hold onto, but his hands were tired of always clinging to nothingness.

Jisung, more than ever, needed someone. He even thought about going back to the house Hyunjin and Yoorim shared and continue to cry, but he felt that he had already bothered them too much and didn't want to become a burden, even though the couple would never have imagined anything like it. He also thought about looking for Woojin, but Kim wasn't the best person in the world when it came to comforting someone, because he ended up laughing nervously and letting out a "you're fucked, man", in the end. Besides, all this hesitation about the three was due to the fact that both Hyunjin, Yoorim, and Woojin were all about second, third, and fourth choices, for the true voice that Jisung wanted to hear — the one that calmed him like chamomile tea — was another.

It was unfair to wet Jinah's shoulder — who, if Hyunjin's assumptions were right, was nourishing a crush for him — with the tears coming from the cursed unrequited love he felt for Chaerin. Jisung figured that would be a bit uncomfortable for her, but, instead, Choi had never shown any unwillingness to hear him talk about it, on the contrary. There was also the fact that the two became friends above all else; so, maybe it wouldn't be so much trouble for Jisung to pick up his phone and click on her contact.

It was enough to call three times until Jinah's soft voice touched his ears as if she were caressing: — "Do you miss me already?"

Jisung almost smiled, but a choking sob was quicker to escape his lips, which made Choi worried.

"What happened? Why are you crying?" — she asked in an agonized way.

"Can you come here, in my house?" — Jisung answered with another question, his voice like a faint line. — "Just a little?"

"I'm on my way." —, the boy could hear the sound of keys on the other side of the phone. — "Calm down, please."

Thanking in a murmur, the boy hung up his phone and struggled to wipe his wet face without letting any more tears fall and nullify his attempt. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and waited, trying not to think of anything that would bring his crying back, but he could be sure that his eyes were red. He was only getting up when he heard the bell, that after about ten minutes in absolute silence except for the sound of his breath.

As soon as she stared at Jisung, Jinah could almost feel his pain. She parted her lips to ask what had happened the second time, but it was clear that Han needed more of a hug than of inquiries, so she didn't wait another second to put her arms around him.

Jisung felt the scent of peach and pear Jinah had and rested his forehead against her shoulder. The tears now came out silently, calmer and near the end. Choi's affection on his back relaxed his muscles and made him feel lighter, as if the burden of feeling was no longer so heavy and impossible to carry.

"I'm worried," — the girl whispered after a few minutes in that same position, and Jisung, being calmer just by being close to the presence of others, lifted his face and pulled her to sit on the couch.

"Chaerin was here just now."

"How was it?" — after the conversation she had with Kwon, Jinah didn't believe she had disturbed Jisung just to say something she shouldn't. She was supposing that all that crying was the result of another relapse, not for some foolishness the girl might have said.

"She tried to explain herself, but I didn't want to hear" — Jisung shrugged, not caring about the order of the parcels, given that the product was the same. — "Then she sort of apologized and I forgave."

"Really?" — Jinah smiled slightly. — "That was very nice of you."

"I didn't want to be holding a grudge against a grudge. May she be happy; wish for bad things now won't harm anyone but myself."

"I think I'm going to explode with pride" — Jinah's smile widened. — "Does that mean you're willing to leave the past in the past?"

"I never said I wasn't" — Jinah's smile ended up making Jisung smile too, though in a more timid manner. — "But it still hurts a lot, I can't guarantee it'll be that easy."

"You'll get it, but first you have to cheer up. Does a chocolate cake fix things for now?"

"I don't feel like leaving the house now."

"And who said you're going to need to leave?" — Jinah raised an eyebrow. — "If the ingredients are in the kitchen, I make a better cake than a french chef."

"After you said that you weren't afraid of horror movies, I don't believe in anything else that comes out of your mouth."

It was one thing to make her watch those scenes that looked more like real manifestations of Satan himself, another thing was to doubt her culinary talents.

"You're offending me" — Jinah looked at Jisung as if she wanted to kill him. — "Talk about me, but don't talk about the chocolate cake my mom taught me to do."

That's why Han liked Choi's company. Seeing her nervous, for example, awakened in him an absurd will to squeeze her. She was so cute it hurt. His problems seemed to lose importance. Suddenly, the little bricks he thought he had knocked over were erected again. After all, being close to Jinah, Jisung didn't feel as lonely as before.

"It's the last time I let you prove anything," — he said as he stood up and started walking toward the kitchen. — "Come, let's make this cake together."

♡˖°

"I warned you," — Jinah sneered when Jisung praised her cake for the second time. The boy had helped, but almost seventy percent of the preparation was Choi's work, who, by the way, was really good at cooking. — "This is for you to learn not to underestimate me."

"I already apologized" — Jisung set his plate aside, satisfied. While they were talking, more than half of the cake had been consumed. The good thing about all this was that Han no longer remembered the episode earlier. Jinah had managed to distract him and make him think of good things again. — "Do you want me to apologize on my knees?"

"That would be fine" — Choi checked the hours on her phone and got to her feet —, "but I have to go. Today is my day to clean the apartment."

"On sunday?"

"Since when do you have a right day to be a slave?"

Jisung laughed: — "Drama Queen."

Though he didn't want her to leave, Han accompanied the girl to the door and stuffed his hands into his pockets as they looked at each other at the farewell hour.

"Thanks for coming here and cheering me up, JinJin" — he moistened his lips in an involuntary act that didn't go unnoticed by the girl. — "I feel much better now."

Jinah watched the boy's face carefully, lingering on the chubby cheeks, eyes that were no longer red, and in his mouth. Again that damn urge to kiss him. Jinah would go into a malfunction if she continued like this.

"I feel even better to know that," — she averted her gaze, not making it too clear how silly she was near the inexplicable beauty Han carried. — "If you need company again, just call me. You know you can do this anytime."

"I know" — and Jisung began to observe the details of others as well. Again.

They were surrounded by a synchrony that had never been so strongly present as it was then. Proximity also counted as a factor, since only two steps separated their bodies. The good and old chemistry was finally taking shape.

"Um..." — Jisung tried to say something that would break that tension, but, before he could utter some messy sentence, Jinah, who could no longer control her own impulses, put both hands on the boy's face and connected their lips suddenly.

Choi finally noticed a few seconds later. The texture of Han's lips was soft and wet, just as she had imagined; but, as much as he wanted to feel it for the rest of the afternoon, the voice of her conscience gave a sharp cry inside her head and made her wake up to reality. Jinah's eyes widened and she moved quickly away, finding the same frightened expression on the other's face.

"My God, I'm sorry!" — she covered her mouth with her hands, blushing like a pepper. — "It wasn't intentional — it was — I was out of my mind!"

Jisung was in a trance for the second time that day. He had also flushed, but his frozen mind couldn't handle the event at its usual speed, so he couldn't even call Jinah when she, utterly embarrassed, rushed out of sight.

There were many emotions for a single sunday.

[kiss-my-freckle]

Raymond Reddington dialogues.

The real Raymond Reddington is dead.

1x22 - Red: The way Sam told the story was that one night - an old friend showed up at his door, scared. The friend told Sam he was leaving town, that he was in danger, and that he needed someone to care for a little girl - that her father had died that night in a fire. So Sam took the little girl in, and he raised her as his own - always sheltering her from the truth about her biological father. Liz: And that’s why you killed him. Red: I killed Sam because he was in pain and he wanted to die, and because I had to protect you from the truth. Liz: What truth? The only memory I have of my real father is from the night of the fire. I remember him pulling me out of the flames, saving me. Red: Yes. And knowing his identity would put you in grave danger. Liz: Why? Because he’s a fugitive on the “Most Wanted” list? Red: I loved Sam, Lizzy. Taking his life was of all the difficult things that I’ve done, that may - may be the most. But I did it to keep you from learning the name of your real father, to protect you. And you must understand - having done that, I’m certainly not going to tell you who he was now.

1x22 -

Liz: Tom told me something right before he died. Red: What was that? Liz: “Your father’s alive.” Red: Lizzy, look at me. I’m telling you, with no uncertainty, your father is dead. He died in that fire.

2x22 -

Liz: I remember. I remember everything. Red: Remember what? Liz: The night of the fire. I know what happened, and I understand why you didn’t want me to find out. When I pulled the trigger - when I shot Connolly, I - it came back to me. It was like I was there. I could hear them arguing. He was hurting her. And I know why my father died that night. I shot him. That’s why you blocked my memory - not to protect yourself. To protect me. Red: Yeah. 

3x14 -

Red: Your parents loved each other very much. The Cold War was hard - too hard for your father. When the Soviet Union was collapsing, he took you from her. She gave up everything to follow him, to follow you. Liz: The night of the fire - that’s what they were arguing about? Red: Your mother, despite what he’d done, she wanted him back. She wanted them to be a family. As much as it pains me to say it, he was probably the only man she ever really loved. Liz: And I shot him. Red: It was an accident. Liz: Tell me. I need to know. Red: Your mother was never the same after that. The man she loved killed by the child she adored - it was just too much. Two months later, she went to Cape May and left her clothes on the beach, walked into the ocean and was never seen again. Liz: So that night, I killed both my parents. Red: You were a child. There should never have been a gun for you to grab.

4x8 -

Liz: You know, I really believed he was my father. Red: You had every reason to. Liz: Except for one. You. You told me my father died when I was a little girl. I just - I guess I didn’t want to believe it. I really wanted my dad here to see her grow up. Red: He would’ve wanted that too.

4x17 -

Katarina: There was a fire. Too many people. There was shouting and fighting. And Masha -

4x19 -

Liz: I understand suppressing memories, helping someone to mute out a traumatic experience, but manipulating them? Red: The memory of an accident, a tragedy, a fire in which a 4-year-old girl killed her father. Liz: This man, is he the one who erased my memory of that night? Red: That’s how Kaplan knows him.

Red: She’s using him to pull at threads to continue to unravel my life. He sidelined Ressler. He’s trying to do the same to you. Liz: You did it once. Red: Yes. When you were a child, to protect you from the memory of killing your father. I hired Krilov once. Never again.

Liz: I know now that those bones in that bag are Raymond Reddington’s - the real Raymond Reddington. My father.

Red: Agent Ressler, was I a good intelligence officer? Ressler: Raymond Reddington was one of the best. Red: Sorry? Raymond Reddington was? Ressler: Yes.

6x19 -

Katarina: We did the right thing, right? Ilya: What thing? Katarina: Pulling him from the fire, trying to save his life? I can’t stop thinking about those firefighters, what might have happened if we’d left him there - if they found him, maybe they could’ve gotten him help, saved Raymond’s life. Ilya: He would’ve burned to death. We did everything we could, and we got him out. Katarina: And yet, he died.

Ilya: Reddington’s dead. Katarina: You and I know that, but the Cabal think he’s on the run, a liability. They’ll discredit him to undermine his proof of their existence. Ilya: Okay, so, you destroy the reputation of a dead man. Katarina: He had a wife and a daughter. She’s nearly the same age as Masha. Jennifer’s her name. They’ll be told that he was a criminal and a traitor -

Katarina: It’s clever. But it’s absurd. Ilya: No one knows that Reddington’s dead.

Katarina: It was easy to get those funds wired in, but Raymond would have to show up in person to access that money. And since he died in my arms, he won’t be able to.

Ilya: What if Raymond Reddington were alive and able to walk into those banks? Of course, we couldn’t pull it off alone. We’d need help.

7x9 -

Young Ilya: No one knows. ⋘⋙ Impossible. [Typewriter slams out loudly: “R” “e” “d”] Young Ilya: A fugitive and traitor to his country. Voice of Young Ilya: [Echoing softly] Reddington’s dead. Reddington’s -

Our Raymond Reddington is an imposter. 

1x1 -

Red: Everything about me is a lie.

1x9 -

Red: We become who we are. We can’t judge a book by its cover. But you can by its first few chapters. And, most certainly by its last.

1x10 -

Red: What is the question, Lizzy? Liz: Are you my father? Red: ... No. 

2x4 -

Naomi: I’ll tell you this, though. He’s not who you think he is.

3x19 -

Katarina: You’ve been here before. Red: Once, a long time ago. I was a very different person then.

4x22 -

Liz: Why didn’t you just tell me who you were? Why keep it a secret? Come into my life, give up everything, go broke trying to protect me, and not tell me you’re my father? Red: Broke is such a harsh word. I prefer illiquid. Liz: What was so awful that you withheld the answer to a question I’ve been wondering my entire life?  -- Dembe: You didn’t deny it? Red: I didn’t. Dembe: And she thinks that’s Kate secret? Red: Yes. Dembe: So she doesn’t know about the suitcase? Red: Not yet. Red: It is gone. Dembe: Raymond, I’m not sure Elizabeth will ever be ready to learn about what you did to Katarina. Red: We gotta find that goddamn suitcase.

5x14 -

Liz: You’ve been to therapy? Red: God, yes. Therapy helped me become - an entirely different person.

5x19 -

Garvey: Everything you believed for the last 30 years has been a lie. You’ve spent a lifetime hiding for no reason.

5x20 -

Red: In 1990, the KGB and the CIA had almost nothing in common except the mutual determination to hunt down one individual. Being a fugitive from American law enforcement is a lot easier than being a fugitive from the two most powerful nations on Earth. 

5x22 -

Liz: I know that this man is an imposter. Why he came into my life, why he took your life, why he spent the last 30 years pretending to be Raymond Reddington. I’m gonna figure all that out, and then I’m going to destroy him.

6x1 -

Mrs. Koehler: Why are you doing this? Red: As I said, Hans was a friend of mine. I wouldn’t be the person I am if it weren’t for him. 

Liz: This isn’t the complete list, is it? Red: No, it’s not. One file has been deleted. Liz: Yours. Red: I prefer to keep my nips and tucks to myself. Forgive an old man his vanity.

6x2 -

Red: Good for you, Archie. I’m a great fan of reinvention. Liz: Of keeping your true self hidden. Red: Or of becoming your true self, even if you have to take on a new identity to achieve it.

6x8 -

Sandoval: French lady. Fancy French name. Margor - Red: Marguerite. Marguerite what? Sandoval: Rennerd? Renard. Red: What else did you find out? Sandoval: If I solve your problem, how do I know you’re gonna solve mine? Red: Because based on what you’ve already told me, I’m deeper in your debt than you could ever be in mine. - Red: Elizabeth knows. She knows I was once someone else. She doesn’t know who, but she is looking for someone who can tell her. Marguerite Renard. We need to get to Renard before she does. Dembe: How does she learn about Renard? Red: I don’t know. And we don’t have time to find out because after I tell you how to locate Renard, I’m also gonna tell Elizabeth. Dembe: Why would you do that? Red: Because she’s looking for her sister, Jennifer, who was kidnapped and possibly taken to a place where Renard is located. Telling Elizabeth may be the only way to save Jennifer’s life. - Red: Did she say anything before you got there? To Jennifer? Dembe: Yes. That Katarina arranged the procedure. Nothing more. Red: That’s more than enough. You know what needs to be done. Dembe: There are alternatives. Red: There were before, not now. Not when she mentioned Katarina. Now Elizabeth will stop at nothing. Wherever we put Renard, she’ll be found, and she’ll talk. I’d do it myself if I could, but I can’t, and it must be done.

6x9 -

Red: Someone identified me to the caller. We both know who and why. Dembe: You have no proof it was Elizabeth. Red: No. And I hope I’m wrong, but she’s hunting for my past. And putting me here makes it more likely she’ll find it.

6x9 -

Red: Mr. Sima asked you if I was a traitor. You hesitated with your answer. Why? Ressler: What difference does it make? Red: Is it because you’re uncertain? Or aware of mitigating circumstances that have given you a different opinion of me? About who I am today as opposed to who I once was? Ressler: I don’t think you want me to answer that.

Red: As a result, the Cabal remained in the shadows, Rostova disappeared, and Raymond Reddington became a completely different person. A man who has done many brutal, scary, illegal things. But not a single one - ever - that was treasonous.

6x18 -

Red: One day I’m captured, the next, you’re looking for someone who knows I was once someone else? I knew that wasn’t a coincidence, but I let my hopes convince me that you’d never betray me like that. Liz: If I had - Red: That neither of you would. Liz: If I’d known what was gonna happen - Red: That they’d put me on trial, sentence me to death? Liz: Yes. Red: That surprised you? Liz: No! The only thing I knew is - you aren’t who you say you are. Red: And you think you deserve to know the truth. Liz: I do. Red: That you’re entitled to that? Liz: Yes! Red: That entitlement justified risking my life? Liz: I thought it justified anything, yes!

7x4 -

Cooper: How do you even know about Hutton? The real Reddington was there. He was part of an oversight panel and testified about it later. But you’re not him. How do you know anything about it if you weren’t there? Red: I know because - I know. Because whoever I once was, I am now and will continue to be Raymond Reddington.

Cooper: How do you do it? Wake up each morning, content to live a lie? How do you put on a face for the world? Red: I don’t live a lie. I may once have had another identity, but that identity no longer exists. I am exactly who I am. And I can assure you, I’m a far more interesting Raymond Reddington than Raymond Reddington ever was. Cooper: And what about Ilya Koslov? Red: I’ve always believed who you are should define you, not who you were. 

Red: Did you tell Panabaker the truth about me? Cooper: I did. I told her your true identity. Who you are, not who you were. I told her you’re Raymond Reddington.

7x9 -

Young Ilya: I don’t think you’re entirely grasping what I’m suggesting. Young Katarina: What are you suggesting? Young Ilya: Becoming Reddington. Purposefully stepping into into the shoes of a man -

Ilya: - into the shoes of a man destined to be condemned as a traitor. Woman: But how?

Young Katarina: That would be impossible. Young Ilya: What if it’s not?

Ilya: We devised a plan to steal the money used to frame Reddington and disappear. Woman: But the plan, it didn’t work. Ilya: Not like we thought. Woman: No. Help me to remember. The plan. Who did it involve? Ilya: It was myself - Katarina - Dr. Koehler. Woman: And the person under the knife - the man who walked into the banks and impersonated Reddington - tell me what you remember about him. Skovic: He’s guarding the memory. Even in this state, he knows there is a secret he should not reveal. Woman: Who was impersonating him, Ilya? Skovic: Stop! I need to bring him out. Woman: No! Not yet. Skovic: No. His blood pressure’s through the roof! I need to push Lidocaine. Woman: Then stop! Let him rest. But we are not bringing him out.

Young Dom: Listen to me. Your ruse with Reddington didn’t work. All it managed to do was anger the people who want her dead.

Young Ilya: I should tell him. Young Dom: We’re not telling him anything. Young Ilya: Oh. I know how you feel, but Reddington deserves to know what we’ve done.

Skovic: Why? Why does Reddington deserve to know anything? Ilya: Because he’s a part of this. Woman: You’re protecting him. Ilya: I made a promise. Woman: But you cared about me. Ilya: Yes, and I do, but I c - Woman: I had everything taken from me that night. I can’t show my face, use my name - Ilya: I’m so sorry. Woman: - I’ve been hunted like an animal! Skovic: We need to stop. Woman: And Reddington? Whoever he is, he’s still out there! The benefactor to all of this. Why?! Skovic: Stop! Woman: You’re protecting him, but people are trying to kill me. They’re hunting me! Answer me! Why?! Skovic: We need to stop! Get back! We need to keep his airway clear. Woman: I only want the truth. Skovic: You won’t get it if he’s dead.

7x10 -

Liz: If Reddington isn’t Koslov, then who is he? Woman: That’s just one of the mysteries I intend to pull from Ilya’s head.

[libralita]

Where is She? Part 9 (End)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | A Matter of Words (Part 4.5) | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

The final part to this fic! I go into more at the end so I hope you enjoy!

Hours Earlier

“Beth, did you forget—”

Suddenly there was a cloth over Joyce’s mouth. She immediately panicked which caused two things: One was to flail around until she could feel her nails come into contact with someone. She heard a cry of pain from a man. The other was she took in a deep breath, inhaling a chemical.

She was out quickly as blood from her kidnapper dripped onto the vanity. He picked her up and put her into a cart for laundry. The venue had a high end restaurant and the cart was full of table clothes that needed to be wash.

The man’s uniform got snagged on her head piece. He ripped it off and it fell onto the floor.

He then went out of the dressing without anyone noticing.

Now Joyce was currently in a basement of sorts. It was nighttime and her eyes adjusted to the darkness. Her hands were tied behind her and her legs tied in front.

Stay calm. She told herself, feeling herself starting to tremble with absolute fear. First things first, get free. She read in a book—albeit a fantasy book—that if you ever kidnapped, you should get out as soon as possible. You don’t know how long you’ll be there so you could grow weak if you aren’t feed.

Joyce tried to keep an ear out for someone coming and started working at the binds. It hurt like hell and she could feel herself bruise her wrists but she had to get these things off. It was her only goal at the moment. One step at a time. She was going to get these binds off.

She pinched and pulled at the rope, until she felt herself pinch the rope it pulled free ever so slightly. The rope loosened and her heart fluttered. She didn’t know how long spent working at the ropes but that was all her mind was focusing on. Listening for any sign of someone coming. Looking around at her surroundings and letting her fingers work and work the rope.

Jumin felt like he was going to go mad in his office (that was currently being used as a base of operations to find Joyce. He had been heartbroken when just a couple of weeks ago, Elizabeth III was missing. Now he feared his heart would actually break because Joyce had been kidnapping.

His head pounded as he spoken to his private security. The police tried to assure him that they would send out a search but Jumin did not care. It wasn’t enough. Nothing was enough when it came to Joyce. He would use every resource he could to find her.

“Jumin,” he turned to see Kaya and immediately turned away. He had done the same thing when he saw Joyce’s absolutely heart broken parents. He could not deal with that. He tried to show a sign that he did care, in the only way Jumin Han could, by sending a dozen body guards to stay with them. “Jumin, you need to take a minute to breathe.”

“I need to find her. No time for breathing.”

“Are you even hearing yourself?” Kaya asked, standing in front of him. She was taller than most women but he still towered over her. “Do you think Joyce would want to see you like this?”

“I am going to do everything I can to find her. This is all my fault.”

“How?”

“Whoever did this, is probably using her to get through me.” Jumin said, as if it were obvious.

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I—” He was cut off from hearing someone call for him. They looked over and saw Sarah. Jumin’s eyes narrowed and he said in a dark tone. “Yes. I do.”

Joyce could have sobbed when she felt herself be able to slip off the ropes. She moved her arms and stretched them. It was too dark to see her wrists but she could imagine they were red and bruised. Joyce worked on the ropes tied to legs. These were much easier to get through when she could kind of make out what she was doing.

She stood up very quietly when she untied herself. There was a small window that lead to a backyard. It was providing light and she could see some men’s clothes. She took off her dance outfit. It was bright white which made her stand out too much. Then she put on the baggy clothes. She wanted to try and find shoes when she heard someone coming down stairs.

Joyce felt around until she found some tools. There was a wrench and she quietly went by the door.

She waited, her heart pounding in her ears as the lock slowly cliqued and the door opened.

While Joyce was not a very strong woman, a terrified woman with a wrench surprise attack could do a number on someone. The man who entered was knocked out and without hesitating she ran over and pulled open the window. She had to stand up on some boxes but once it was open she heaved herself up and shimmied through the window.

She did not know if there were other people coming down stairs or not. She was only concerned with squeezing her small frame through the window. She was free on the wet grass and she scrambled up.

Joyce ran around the house and there was large metal fence. The exit must have been on the other side. She was too terrified to try running back to the other side so jumped up and climbed it.

Dogs began to park and a porch light went on. This made Joyce feel even more terrified and made her move faster. Joyce got to the top of the fence and jumped down. She landed and sprinted across the yard then to the side walk and down the street.

She numbly felt a pain shoot up her foot. She must have stepped on something sharp with her bare feet but she just kept on running.

Joyce spotted a police car and she ran over. Two officers were sitting in there and she frantically knocked on the window. “I need help!”

“I heard about your friend getting kidnapped and I’m so sorry, Jumin.” Sarah said, in sickly sweet voice. “Why don’t we go chat, privately?”

“Let’s.” Jumin said, coldly. He harshly took her hand and they found a private room. “You—”

“Let me talk.” Sarah said, “Now, Jumin, I will do absolutely everything I can to make sure your friend comes back safe and sound.”

“If you hurt her, I swear—”

“No, I know she won’t be hurt. She’ll be safe and all thanks to Glam and me. You will be so appreciative that you will announce our engagement. Right?”

Jumin stayed quiet for a moment, clenching his fists. Sarah had Joyce and he didn’t know what to do. He could try and save her on his own but what if they did hurt her? Could he live with himself after that?

“I will give you—”

“Jumin!” Beth burst in, opening the door. She noticed Sarah and frowned.

“Any news?” Jumin asked, looking at Beth hopefully.

“She’s been found! She’s in the hospital right now!”

“Impossible.” Sarah said, looking baffled.

Jumin turned from Sarah and followed Beth.

Joyce was taken to a hospital to have her foot looked at. She was questioned by police and told them everything that happened. She did this all numbly and with barely any emotion. It was like a dream, it was so unreal.

Then she saw her parents and everything that happened came crashing down. “Mommy…” She cried as her mother enveloped her into a hug and her father quickly pulled them both in a hug. “Daddy.”

“Oh, baby, you’re safe…” Mary whispered. They stayed like this hugging her. Eventually Mary moved and cupped her face. “We love you so much, Joyce. You know that, right?”

“I love you, too.” She said, still crying harshly.

“Let’s get you out of these clothes.” Mary said, noticing her state. “I’ll help you change. The doctor said that your foot should be just fine.”

Joyce nodded as Oliver gave his daughter another tight hug and then left to give them some privacy.

Oliver was in the hall when he saw Jumin Han come up the hall. Oliver hadn’t spoken much to the young man when they first met. Jumin had just come over and said, “I will be assigning you a set of body guards for your own protection.” He had bowed deeply and then went to answer calls.

“Mr. Elliot.” Jumin said, meeting Oliver’s eyes and then bowed again. He bowed even lower than the first time. “I must apologize profusely. It was my fault that your daughter was put into danger. The people who kidnapped your daughter were trying to get to me through her. It is my fault and I am apologize.”

Oliver frowned and went over to him. “Don’t blame yourself, Jumin.”

“It is my fault.” Jumin said, still bowing. “I came here to apologize to you and your wife. I will remove myself from your daughter’s life for her own safety.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow. “Please stand up, this is making me uncomfortable.”

Jumin did so.

“Now, having my daughter missing took some years off my life. But I do forgive you.” Oliver said, looking at that door. “However, I know that if you walk out of her life, then it’ll break her heart. That I will never forgive you for doing.”

Jumin swallowed and looked at the door.

“Also, my wife might hunt you down. Never mess with French women. Or their daughters.”

Jumin could tell it was a joke but he didn’t laugh.

“At least go and talk to her.”

Joyce finished getting changed, she was glad to be in her own clothes.

There was a soft knock at the door. “Come in.” Mary said and saw that it was Jumin.

“Jumin!” Joyce said surprised.

“I’ll leave you two alone.” Mary said, kissing her daughter’s forehead.

Jumin was quiet for a moment, messing with his cuff and then looked Joyce over. He came over and took her hands. He stared at the bandages on her wrists. “I’m sorry…” he whispered softly, his voice raspy and it almost seemed to crack.

Joyce could not help herself, she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him. “It’s okay…”

“No, it’s not…” He said, not hugging her back even though he desperately craved to. “This was my fault. They were trying to get to me through you. I put you in harms way. I cannot be in your life any longer.”

“No.” She said, sounding heart broken as Oliver had thought. She moved so she was looking at him. There was a mixture of pleading but also a small bit of anger. “Jumin, shouldn’t I get a say in this?”

“You need to be concerned with your safety.”

“And I’ll take more precautions but that doesn’t mean that I’m going to stop being around the people I like. It isn’t fair that some bad people are controlling who I do and do not get to be around.” Joyce said.

“It doesn’t matter if it’s not fair. It’s what needs to be done.” He found himself slipping into that emotionless, logical state.

Joyce stared at him with her intense brown eyes. “Jumin Han, tell me that you no longer wish to be in my life and I will respect your wishes.”

Jumin had to look away. That had gotten him. He could not say that. He could never say that.

“Then I’m sorry but I am not going to let some criminals rule my life.” Joyce said, firmly. “I care about you Jumin and you care about me. So, we’ll keep each other safe.”

Jumin was quiet for a moment. “You should be a lawyer.”

“Sorry, I’m a dancer.” Joyce said and wrapped her arms back around him. This time he hugged her back.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

No. It’ll never be okay. Jumin thought and held onto her. I will do everything I can to protect you, Joyce Elliot. And…any maybe you can protect me, as well.

They held each other for a while. “So, do you still want to go on a date?”

Jumin stiffened and then moved to look at her. “We were going on a date?”

“Yes, that’s kind of the point of going to Olive Garden together. Alone.”

Jumin blushed. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Jumin cleared his throat, “perhaps once you are completely healed. We will do that.”

Joyce giggled. “Only perhaps?”

“We will.” Jumin said and then smiled at her. She smiled back.

Mary and Oliver both rolled their eyes as they listened in. “Well at least they finally admitted it.” Mary said and she smiled fondly at her husband.

“Are you worried about Joyce?”

“We’re parents, I think we’re suppose to worry.” She said straightening up. They both decided to give them privacy. “I think it’ll be better for both of them this way. They need each other.”

Oliver nodded, putting his arm around his wife. “Our little girl is growing up.”

“Yes, she is…” Mary said, blinking back tears. “But she’s happy.”

“They both are.”

End.

Author’s Note: I cannot believe I wrote around a 18,000 word fanfic about Jumin Han and posted it to Tumblr. It was a lot of fun! I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! I plan on continuing to write more with these characters.

I plan on doing another fic series called “Broken” that follows Joyce and Jumin’s relationship leading up to the RFA party. It’ll be exploring a lot of Jumin’s past (i.e. the sexual abuse of his step-mother, crippling loneliness, and abandonment issues). So, that’ll be a lot of angst! I will also probably be doing shorter one offs. Much like “A Matter of Words”.

Again, thank you for reading! Thank you @mrs-han and @juminhandfs you guys are the best!

[fuwafuwamedb]

When will the Forelsket sequel be posted?

Right now, it’s named Kjaerlighet. I believe I mentioned that in the comments section of one of my stories that I was posting after Forelsket ended. 

It’s ready to go, I just don’t want too many stories going at once. I want to let you all enjoy what’s going and see things through to the end. Some people like reading all of an author’s work or multiple works by one author and I think it’s a bit hectic when there’s a lot going at once. Posting all of a multi-chapter story at once is great for short term reading, but I like building the hype. You’ll have to forgive me for that. 

At this time, this story is done, but I’m editing in little bits of Sumerian culture like I did for Forelsket and I am debating that title because sometimes readers can’t figure out how to pronounce my titles (I’m sorry).

It has been a while since we saw anything in that AU and I think some may be eager to read so…

Here’s the first chapter. Consider it like licking the cookie dough spoon before the cookies are baked and out for public consumption. 

Five weeks.

No new changes: no sudden exclamation of a child on the way,no shocked expressions or shouting from the king of heroes. Hakuno didn’t notea thing about herself changing. They laughed, they indulged in baths together.The lot of them bundled themselves in bed when Hakuno was feeling a little bittired.

Gudako watched them all simply enjoy the company of oneanother and sighed.

“Are you thinking about the time in Babylonia again,” Dantesasked, pulling his shirt off as he prepared for bed.

“A little bit.”

Caster had meandered off to Uruk once more, but mostly toalter this and that in the palace. Archer had been trusted with Hakuno for acouple days, but he had successfully built a temple within the palace to go alongsidethe main temple so that he and his other selves would have a better place to takepleasure in their goddess.

Hakuno had smacked him.

Caster had berated him.

Archer had high fived his child and teenaged selves.

The nobleman nodded at her though, dragging her back toreality. “They will find out soon enough. They are very lucky that Gilgamesh’sgood friend is being so kind as to keep it quiet. I cannot imagine what the manwould decide to do if he found that he was allowing Hakuno to run around withhis heir inside of her. Last week’s mission and the wounds that Hakuno receivedwould have been received poorly.”

Gudako nodded, quietly. This was true. It probably wouldhave.

Dantes hummed, “If my Mercedes had been carrying my child, Iwould have wanted to know immediately. I would have wanted to take hersomewhere safe and not risk our child. Too many women lost their babies tohunger or a bad fall. They are fragile things, unable to protect themselves.”

“They are.”

“There is also so much to plan. I do not envy the king ofheroes. Trying to decide where and how the baby will be raised. Will the babebe handled by a servant or will the mother take responsibility for lookingafter the child? Tutoring? Chaldea has many heroes as well as tyrants. It wouldbe unfortunate for the child to be near one of the lesser servants in thisplace. Myself, for example, wonderful, but I would instill upon that child farmore importance upon the bonds that they create and the importance of going afteranyone that wrongs you. That saint, Jeanne , would preach forgiveness. Auseless concept.”

“It is… It is…” She hummed though, glancing towards the door.

Hakuno was the goddess of wine and drink. If she indulgedtoo much… God, if she had Gilgamesh have too much fun with her. Or if theothers got too rough. She had seen bruises on her friend before. All it wouldtake was just a little too much liquor one evening and one of them doingsomething stupid.

Was Enkidu always watching?

“Uh huh.”

Fingers snapped before her face. “Ici! Ici! Gudako. I wasnot saying anything.” The white haired man glared at her. “You are no longerlistening to me, ma Cherie.”

“I’m thinking.”

“I see that you are. It is good. You are going to go andinform them of the little offspring that grows in the woman?”

“Maybe if we just go check on them?”

Edmond didn’t even move, merely gesturing her towards thedoor. “I will await your return, Master. You are making the wise decision, ininforming the young woman that she is carrying the prince or princess withinher. She will be able to prepare and bring the child into this world safely,with more preparation.”

Yeah.

She pressed her lips to the man’s cheek before heading outthe door. Most of the facility had become quiet now. It was the evening. They allwished to merely rest.

Well…

Gudako saw the light pouring forth from the crack in the youngwriter’s room, her lips pursing at the implications.

“Hans! Shakespeare! I swear to god if you’re writing withone another!” She banged on the door, listening to the sounds of curses beforethe light flickered off.

They were going to wait her out.

She stomped, lightening the sound before she stopped.

The light flickered on again.

“HANS!”

A screech came, the two opening the door and peering out ather.

“Bed.”

“Now see here, you wily liver-spotted temptress,” Shakespearebegan.

“We don’t want to go to bed,” Hans informed her in that deepvoice. “We are working on a project together that will require the midnight oilin particular. It is a tale of depth and emotion. It is nothing that can adhereto your absurd sense of daylight hours.”

“I will swaddle you like a five year old,”Gudako warned.

Shakespeare snickered, earning a glare from the young writer.“…We shall adjourn for the night. But we are writing into the night tomorrow.”

“Write me a good formal letter why I should allow it and I’llhave Caster Gil read it.”

Hans groaned. “I hate that man. Shove off, William. She isgoing to be unreasonable.”

The playwright laughed, waltzing off into the hallway anddown the way she had come. No doubt, he and Edmond would find themselvestalking about French and English culture by the time she returned.

Children, the lot of them.

God, Hakuno didn’t even need to worry about whether or notshe could handle a child. Between the surly Hans and the younger versions ofthe servants roaming through this place, she already had the basics of childcarehandled.

Hakuno would be fine.

She was a professional. An absolute expert. There was nodoubt in her mind that she could probably handle whatever little divine shitcame out of that woman.

There was the sound of movement as she turned the corner.The red curtains draped thematically around the doors to Gilgamesh’s chamberswere closed, indicating that the collection of Gilgamesh, Enkidu, and theiryoung master were already enclosed within.

Or were going to be.

A green-haired being stopped just before the curtains,pausing in entering to look over at her. “Gudako? What brings you to thiscorner of the facility?”

“Are the grapes for Hakuno?” Gudako moved closer, avoidingthe question.

“She was hungry, but has been having a time of it. Everytime she wishes for something sweet, her tastebuds have been leading her to bitterthings. It is food cravings, from what my Shamhat has informed me. I thoughtperhaps grapes would not upset her. The grapes we have been getting are less sweetthan usual.”

She nodded.

“But you are here for a reason, I’m assuming?”

“Does Hakuno know that-“

“No.”

Gudako nodded at the blunt response. “Then I’m here to tellher. I think she needs to know-“

Enkidu shook their head. “Do not bother. It is not the besttime to inform her about what is going on. She merely thinks that her midnighteating is starting to cause morning sickness. Her emotions are from Archer andCaster being particularly stubborn with her new role and how often she shouldbe in Uruk.”

“She needs to know, Enkidu. If we don’t tell her-“

“I will tell her when it is time.”

“When is the time?”

The being hummed. “We have begun week six…. I believe weekthirty-nine would be appropriate.” They paused, staring at her. “…I ammonitoring the progress. The child’s soul is slowly forming right now. I knowthe gender and I know of its slowly forming preferences, although it may notrealize itself. I have been keeping Hakuno near Prototype since he is being themost appropriate and has been giving Hakuno a great deal of emotional support.”

“Enkidu!”

She needed to know.

God, she would want to know!

Those green eyes were narrowing though. The being leaned inclose. She couldn’t see anything around the hair and those strangely glowingeyes.

“Do not tell her.”

“…E-Enkidu…”

“She will fret. My friend will fret. They are happy rightnow. They partake in the now of things, leaving the future where it needs to be.If you take that away, I will become quite cross.”

Okay, that was fair, but Gudako shook her head. She gesturedat the door. “If they could just know about-“

“No.”

“Enkidu!”

The being turned her around, giving her a rather rough pushtowards her rooms. “Return to your bed, little master of Chaldea. My masterneeds my attention and needs our silence. Do not think to intrude upon Uruk’sbusiness again. It is my secret to keep and my friend’s future to watch form.”

“Fine.”

“Good night, Gudako.”

“Good night, Enkidu.”

She waited the half second for the being to turn before sheslipped around the curtains, pushing them at the being before she slammedthrough the door.

Caster glanced over from his desk.

Child Gilgamesh, Prototype, and Archer looked up from theircard game.

Hakuno glanced over from the sofa, pouring herself-

“Hakuno, you can’t have that!” Gudako avoided the clay being’sgrasp, hurrying over and taking the goblet of wine from her side.

“What are you talking about?”

“Gudako!”

Oh, but the clay being was coming for her like a freighttrain from hell. She was going to be in for it. That face and that glarepromised a revenge that would have Dantes taking meticulous notes.

“You’re pregnant!”

A silence filled the room.

The weight of fury lifted from the being’s shoulder, leavingthem standing awkwardly in the center of the room.

A snicker.

A snort.

Archer was the first one to begin laughing, shaking his headas the others joined in. The room seemed to have surround sound with the waythey were all laughing. Child Gilgamesh was the first to fall onto his side.Prototype was doing an awkward laugh, blushing at the very idea.

“Hakuno? With child?” Caster paused from his amusement. “Haveyou gone soft? We are all servants here in Chaldea. She is hardly human herself.You may have partaken in Hakuno’s sweet wines and my mother’s conversations ofchildren a bit too often.”

Child Gil nodded. “I went with that idea for two days untilI figured it was wrong. Hakuno is too precious and divine for that. She would havehad to have been blessed by Ishtar for that and that goddess hates Hakuno for messingup her temple. She’s also guilty as hell for her father interrupting thewedding ceremony. She wouldn’t bother!”

Gudako glared over at Enkidu.

“Ask them,” she demanded.

The four blonds looked at the being in matching amusement.

Meanwhile, blessedly, it seemed Hakuno had some sense inthis lot. The woman was closing her eyes, no doubt thinking carefully aboutthis and considering the truth of it. Her attention flickered to her a momentbefore she sat up.

“Oh no.”

Progress.

Thank the gods for Hakuno.

She returned her attention to Enkidu.

“Well?” She prompted. “Tell them.”

The being shook their head.

“Enkidu has known since the conception,” Gudako informedthem. “Knows gender too, from what they told me outside the room. That’s whyHakuno is having food cravings and morning sickness.”

Hakuno was paling.

The Gils were all paling.

Prototype rushed to the bathroom.

Gudako looked around before clapping her hands. “Thank god.”She smiled. “I was thinking about that for like a month. It was a long assmonth too. Like when Hakuno was slashed in the stomach by that dragon lastweek, I was like “yeah, that kid’s a goner” or like when she was knocked intounconsciousness about three weeks back by that boar while working with CuChulainn. I was also like “that kid’s dead.” But now I feel better. We shouldbe good now.”

She plucked a grape from the bowl that Enkidu was stillholding, glancing around at the silent room.

“I feel- SO- good right now. It’s amazing what happens whenthe truth is out there. No wonder Edmond fought for revenge and for the truthabout those other noblemen to be revealed. It just feels so good. I’m gonna gofind him before Shakespeare steals him for an insult contest.”

She waved at them as she headed for the door.

“Just so you know, I am a great namer. I nicknamed Arash “Ozy’sBoom Rocket” and I have been laughing for days about it. Night night!”

The door shut behind her.

And then the sound erupted from within.

[groovyxgenes]

;; I HAVE HELLA MUSE BUT FIRST I MUST RANT ABOUT DARK PHOENIX. HELLA SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT!! 

IDEK WHERE TO START. THE BEGINNING I SUPPOSE?? 

SO I WENT TO A SPECIAL FAN EVENT (GOT A FREE DOPE ASS KEY CHAIN!!) AND THERE WAS A LITTLE CLIP AT THE BEGINNING CELEBRATING 20 YEARS OF X-MEN AND IT MADE ME CRY. 

THE X ON ‘FOX’ LOGO WAS PHOENIX ILLUMINATED ♥♥♥ 

BB JEAN AND HER FAM LOOK V SIMILAR TO THE LAST STAND ORIGINALS. HER HOME AND STREET TOO. 

JEAN AND CHARLES’ FATHER/DAUGHTER RELATIONSHIP MURDERS ME

SCOTT/JEAN IS SO ROMANTIC AND ADORABLE AND REMINDED ME OF ME AND MY BF IT WAS SO CUTE

YOU CAN SEE SO MUCH JAMES MARSDEN INSPO IN TYE’S CYCLOPS AND I LOVE HIM FOR THAT CAN U BELIEVE HE’S MADE ME LOVE SCOTT SUMMERS??

AWESOME SPACE MISSION IS AWESOME 

BABY X-MEN FANS!! 

PETER MAXIMOFF. 

NOT DISGUSTING BEASTIQUE??? 

JLAW ACTUALLY ACTED?? LIKE WITH REAL EMOTIONS! IMPRESSED. 

‘THE LAST OF THE FIRST CLASS’ ME: *SOBBING*

DAZZLER!!!!! HALSTON SAGE IS DAZZLER!!!!! AND HER SONG IS A BANGER I NEED IT!!!!! 

X-KIDS PARTYING!!! 

SOPHIE TURNER BEING THE BEST ACTOR AKSJDSFKSDJKF

JESSICA CHASTAIN CAN STEP ON ME 

TYECLOPS GETS TO SAY THE ONE F-BOMB AND IT’S SOOOO FUCKING GOOD AND H O T AS HELL

ALL OF JAMES MCAVOY’S ACTING

CHARLES FALLING BACK INTO ALCOHOLISM 8)))) 

HANK CALLING CHARLES O U T 

HANK HANK HANK H A N K 

CHARLES CALLING RAVEN HIS SISTER IN CANON FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE 2011

EVERYONE CALLING CHARLES OUT

MAGNETO AND GENOSHA AND SELENE!!!!! 

MAGSTIQUE LOVE ;N; 

MAGS PULLING UP THAT SUBWAY CAR!!!!! THAT WHOLE FIGHT SCENE ACTUALLY!!!

CHARLES GETTING SOME FIGHT SCENE ACTION!!! 

“WALK TO ME” FJSADLKJFDKLAFKDFKJFKDS I SCREAMED 

JEAN REALIZING CHARLES IS HER REAL DAD *SOBBING* 

KURT GETTING M A D AND FUCKING D’BARI U P !!!! 

ORORO TELLING CHARLES WHAT THE FUCK IS UP WHEN HE TRIES TO PULL SOME BULLSHIT 

CHARLES NOT BEING PERFECT IS MY JAM AND ALWAYS HAS BEEN SO HELLOOOOO. LOVE!!! 

BUT HIS REDEMPTION SCENE IS BEAUTIFUL <3333

MAGNETO’S!!!! FIGHT SCENE!!!!! WITH THE D’BARI!!!!! I FUCKING N U T T E  D. 

JEAN FORGIVING CHARLES AND SAVING HER FAM ; n ; 

EMOTIONS MAKE YOU STRONG MESSAGE <3333 

‘JEAN GREY SCHOOL FOR GIFTED YOUNGSTERS’ 

HEAD MASTER HANK MCCOY <3333

ORORO TEACHING

CHARLES RETIRED AND SPEAKING FRENCH IN PARIS.

CHERIK GETS THEIR HAPPY ENDING AT LONG FUCKING LAST!!!

IN!!!! PARIS!!!! THEY GET THEIR HAPPY ENDING IN PARIS!!!! THE MOST ROMANTIC CITY IN THE WORLD AND HOME TO SO MANY OF MY PERSONAL CHERIK HEADCANONS AND MEMORIES!!!! CHERIK HAPPY ENDING Y’ALL K I L L ME E E

P.S. HANS ZIMMER DID THE SOUNDTRACK AND IT S L A P S . 

~~~~ 

NOW FOR THE CONS: 

No reference to kurt/mystique or peter/erik’s relationship ugh

Glossing over the fact that Jean felt the Phoenix Force in Apocalypse???? Like??? 

Beastique is still a weird concept but w/e 

......... that’s it. it was so good FUCK the critics!! 

[whatwedointhemultiverse]

Where We Begin

An intro into the Life of Tiffany Dubois 

(Forgive the errors this was from an old fic of mine)

"Can you tell me about your childhood?" "If you still remember it?" "I don't know if you all would be interested, Mr. Molloy," "I'm sure there are those who are dying to hear it."

"Well, I was born in New York in 1768 to an enslaved woman named Isabella and a creole Duke named Jaques Dubois ..." "What's that got to do with anything..." "Patience, and you shall see Mr. Molloy."

"You see, my story starts in Louisiana in 1776 I was just Eight years old, just a Magnolia seed, if you will." Tucked away in the French quarters was a Plantation house of ivory white fixtures and magnolia trees lining the entrance up to the door. As a carriage pulled away, Standing there was a little girl dressed in the rags of a slave with dirt on her face, "Tu es en sécurité ici.." he said, gesturing for the young brown girl to walk in, hesitant to grab his hand. "I assure you it's fine." he winked at the child, watching as she made small strides to the door. Surrounding her were vampires of high society of all backgrounds draped in rubies, and emeralds. She could hear them whisper and gossip, hoping it wasn't about her. As she walked further, she could feel red velvet drapes pool at her feet while in her line of sight, cups of porcelain and pots of silver with bottles of fine "wine" poured in them sat close by on a table. "Mon garçon tu m'as retourné aussitôt." said a woman, her golden curls pinned in a high roll as a blue feather plume stuck out from it, "She was elegant. Countess Elizabeth Liru extended her pale hand to me." "And who was she to you." "She was my maker."

"Ma fille..." Watching her flench at the gesture, Elizabeth could sense her pain already, a wounded bird not yet ready to fly, unlike how her father was.  " I'll not harm you a bit," she said, "Nay, will they..." gesturing towards the others who were gathering around. The younger girl only nodded as she slowly peaked from behind the man's legs, dark curls askew from behind him. " Ma fille, what do they call you..." her piercing blue eyes focused on the small brown ones looking back at her. The young girl's voice was hoarse from the endless nights of screaming and the pain from being passed down from person to person. "Tiffany, Ma'am ..." "Haven't you a last name..." "No, ma'am..." she looked down at her dirtied-up feet. "She looks like a Monroe..." a young girl around her age said, golden curls held back by a bow. "That's what we'll call you... Madame Tiffany Monroe."

"So they picked your last name?" "Yeah, it was kind of a thing back then, sort of like naming property... but Elizabeth also picked out my life..."  she laughed, "Sounds lavish." "Indeed it was Mr. Molloy."

"Lace! countess lace is the returning rage all the women  of the court are wearing it!" Fatima said, sticking pins into the dress. Fatima had been a seamstress since the beginning of time and enjoyed what she did. As her pink-powered wig sat on top of her head, Tiffany stood there giggling, watching as Elizabeth and Fatima argued about the appeal of her dress. " C'est de la merde putain!" Elizabeth growled. "Ta mère était une pute !" Fatima rolled her eyes, continuing her creation, "I have you know I've dressed queens and kings and even Shakespeare's company..." Fatima scowled at Elizabeth. "I had a Hans Holbein Portrait!" "We all had one..." Fatima sang, "Don't move, Cherie," she mumbled, sewing the lace trim around her sleeves. It was the last finishing touch before she was to be shown off to the rest of the court like a doll,

Pink cotton with a gold satin ribbon trimmed stomacher. Tiffany stood there in the mirror as she gave it a twirl, still a bit sad. Fatima could sense it. She missed her mother, but some things could not be. Taking her hand, Elizabeth led her into the dining room as all eyes were on her.  

" Belle fille!" "Une telle poupée..." "Elle est Magnifique!"

"Was all I heard... to everyone around I was a little a doll..." "So like Claudia," "I was nothing more, but when you're eight, that's all they know you for...But there was always Fatima." "Fatima, you talk a lot about her...", "Well, she was my mother's sire... and lover cursed my father because he took her from her, But she practically got me out of trouble." "You a troublemaker?" "Who would've known." "Well, it was 1784, I was 16, the age when girls notice boys...Men notice girls..." "What about you, did you notice anyone."

Tiffany sat in the Magnolia tree dirtied up in her new dress as Charlotte watched her, her golden hair much like her mother glistening in the hot summer sun. Looking up, all she saw were brown eyes looking down. " Que fais-tu?" Charlotte asked, "I'm a pirate, Mon ami, join me?" her hand stretched out as Charlotte grabbed on, her eyes locking with Tiffany. The two always had a sense of imagination, but they were getting older, and by Elizabeth, the two young girls were getting close. "Take me away... my Capitaine..." she kissed Tiffany's hand.  Tiffany had nearly frozen as she had later been brought back to reality by the poke of a branch. "What are you doing..." Tiffany asked, " Sword fighting Cherie... my betrothed does it all the time to me." "You're what?" she asked, sitting on one of the strong arms, her dress collecting even more dirt that would put Fatima in a rage. "Betrothed... I'll be marrying him someday..." she smiled, her heart already breaking, "Mother says it's time you get one too... and she found you someone suitable..." she held her hand. Tiffany looked down at her bare feet dropping from the tree as she ran off into the grand foyer, the Harpsichord playing untuned notes. Elizabeth moaned as her mouth was covered in blood, Tiffany standing there in fear as to what she had just seen, "STOP IT" Tiffany tried to move but felt as though time stood still. A metal ring pointed under her neck, "You dirty unsightly little thing... I was almost through, and you ruined it, you petit avorton..." she growled, raising her hand as Fatima stood in front of her. Her skin was less full of wrinkles and more youthful as her hair was curly and black. "You will not hit this child..."  she growled, "Then get it out of my sight..."  Elizabeth pointed towards the stairs.

"And then what happened... " " Well, I had a bath... my hair in a high roll... wearing fresh French silk and I went to a ball."

Tiffany sat in the porcelain tub silently, Fatima washing her hair and combing out dirt and leaves as she continued to sing an old french song about chickens.  "What was mama like..."   Tiffany asked, her teeth chattering, "Well, she was beautiful ..." Fatima smiled, stroking her hair, "She was kind and sweet... stern and stubborn someone I loved dearly..." she replied as Tiffany giggled, "She wanted me to make sure you were taken care of..."  Fatima sighed, washing the dirt off her face, "How did you get so dirty..." "Playing pirates... with Charlotte ..."  she mumbled as Fatima scrubbed her arms, "Like your father.", placing a locket around her neck. As the carriage crept closer, Tiffany could feel her skin growing cold,

Draped in the purest of silk stood Charlotte and Tiffany eyeing down eligible bachelors while trying to get away from their betrothed. Golden curly hair resting on the shoulder of brown skin sent butterflies down to her stomach. " Je m'ennuie Tiffany ..." Charlotte pouted as Tiffany quirked her head up, "As am I... perhaps we'll illumine la Ville, what do you think?" taking the young girl's hands in her own. The two ran off into the gardens, away from the music and the snobbish gossipy people," You're as bright as the stars in a clear sky."  Charlotte said, her voice a bit shaky, surrounded by roses. Tiffany could only see one in her view. But Tiffany knew what was on the other girls' minds. It was on hers as well.

"Charlotte, do you ever want to be a vampire..."  Tiffany asked, placing roses in her hair, "If it means you'll be my amant et compagnon."  she kissed her cheek, "Then who am I to destroy what the fates want." she placed her hand on Tiffany's face. Her pearl's glowed in the night sky as the two stayed in a lover's embrace. They had been inseparable since they first locked eyes, but soon they'd become one, or so she hoped. As two men showed up pulling the two young lovers away, there became worse problems at hand.  Tiffany sat in her bedroom weeping, scratching at her arms and then at her hair as she still felt the sting of an abuser's first kiss on her lips, a dark purple bruise by her eye. "Tiffany..."  Fatima ran in, "What did she do to you...", her brown eyes were lifeless as if the soul of a child was left behind. Placing her hand on her cheek. Tiffany's gaze only looked down in shame as to what happened to her.  "He... was... 27," Tiffany said, shaking, clinging onto Fatima for dear life, "Charlotte was lucky..." her heartbeat racing,

"What did you do to escape..." "I ugh I bit him... I ran... I ran like hell back to that place..." Tiffany sighed, "But then again, wouldn't you..." "Louisana was different then." "Being a black aristocratic woman in the 18th century wasn't as rewarding. But it wasn't  until I turned 20 did everything make sense."

"What do you mean the Duke isn't dead!" Elizabeth whispered. Fatima gave her a chuckle holding up letters from the Duke of the court. Tiffany, who was sitting by her door, listened as she snickered away at the news, "Your plan didn't work, Elizabeth." " Enslaving the Duchess and separating her daughters was a useless tactic ..."  Fatima crossed her arms, "I... I don't know what you mean..."     "You betrayed us ... you paraded around here much too long! and now it's over..." she growled, her long nails gracing  Elizabeth's porcelain skin. Slashing through the skin. Tiffany sat there in bewilderment at what Fatima had just done. "She committed a crime among Vampires by killing her own all for the sake of some measly vampire royalty." "If she died, how was she your creator?" "I'll get there."

Fatima took Elizabeth's blood from her fingers, giving it a taste, laughing as she knew the young girl was watching, "You'll want to get dressed for the arrival of your parents."  she hummed, "How did you I was here..." "I hear everything, Cherie," she winked "Don't you think this is too much?" Tiffany asked, looking in the mirror, "The pearls in my hair, the locket, and a choker with more pearls," she asked, looking at the dress. There were pearls and bows on the silver bodice with the Diamonds on the stomacher,  while her skirt was of the finest silk that money could buy. "It's never too much when meeting your parents again..." Fatima smiled her black curls covered in matching Rubies much like her dress and necklace, "Besides, tonight is your big night." she smiled as Tiffany gulped, scared of the pain that changing over would be if she'd ever see another daylight or perhaps even feel the sun on her skin.

"Announcing the return of her Grace Isabella." "They're here." "What do I do!" "Run..." "Did you?"

"I wanted to see her face and meet my father for the first time."  her hand rubbing her locket. "I wanted to see."

"Your face..." Tiffany smiled, standing in front of her mother. Isabella reached out towards her and kissed her forehead, a tear falling from her face,

"It's been too long, my dear..."

"And then what happened..."

"Well, I was a vampire..."

[princebete]

Night Terrors

@forvistxkonge

⟅ ⚜ Being held down, unable to breathe– thrashing as hard as he could, but to no avail his struggles proved to be futile.

     { Groans and turns over.}

Adam tries opening his eyes, but they feel heavy… As if weighed down by lead. Finally– he managing to throw his hand, in slow motion towards his face– breaking the barrier that kept him from seeing. Mon Dieu.

    { Tosses.}

     Hans? Staring up. Finding that the person responsible for holding him down, has been his lover .  Clasping their hand a little too hard for comfort– Immediately releasing his grip on the other prince, Adam smiles up at Hans who still has him pinned. The room feeling somewhat more airy, and bright than usual. Tilting his head curiously, what was the other up to? ❝ Is there…. Something you want?❞ Running his foot against the back of the other’s calf, he takes in the feeling of having their body so tightly pressed against his. A little more dominating then usual, but Adam wouldn’t mind  this slight change. Kinda liking it, he took in a breath–allowing the scent of the other to captivate and hold him. Making it obvious where Hans should take this activity–

     { ❝ J’taime–uhh❞ Tossing back, the words dropping with a heavy breath. }

      Remaining there, looking over Adam. Hans’ expression much little less happy. It isn’t the loving glance that Adam tends to find in those emerald hues— something is very off. The other looks almost angry, but not quite. There is something that sends chills through the french prince, something more … dangerous. Not so much a thrill that arouses, rather making Adam worry. ❝ What is it? Hans, what’s-❞

     ❝ Shut up❞ A harsh interjection that suddenly puts Adam in a state of concern. Shut up? What have I done to deserve such resentment? But Hans wouldn’t let go, wouldn’t let him speak– The grip just hardening around his wrists. Making the french prince wince.

          ❝ Ah!!– That hurts, If this is some weird fantasy you’re wanting to play… I’m sorry I don’t think I really prefer—❞

      ❝ You killed my family–❞ Eyes widen, looking up at the other. Confused– terrified of what Hans could mean, though somehow Adam thinks about what the other is saying and suddenly begins to  have these memories. How… Could… I? The images of himself– hunting down an entire royal family. Slashing them. The red blood–

       { ❝ I didn’t— NNo… Stop❞ Kicks into the sheet.}

          Licking his lips, then looking back up at Hans who now had this sadistic smile on his face. Adam realizes that yes. He did kill Hans’ family. Not knowing how or understanding why—- Oh… Beast? ❝ How– how do you know?❞

       ❝ I always knew.❞

                ❝ – You… Have?❞

       ❝ Of course. Why do you think I’ve been waiting for a moment like this? I’m going to make you pay…❞. Hans leans in close to Adam’s face, it’s a strange feeling. In the past Hans only comes this close to retrieve a loving kiss or some other tender reason. While this is reason for their close proximity is purely out of anger and revenge. I’m sorry Hans, I didn’t mean to–Really. ❝ Please… Listen– You can hate me❞.– ❝ Oh I already do. That is why I am here to end you–❞

       { Breathing quickens and slows in uneven patterns}

      ❝ Hans! Please just hear me…❞.  Looking up at the other with a desperation in his eyes, Which does absolutely nothing to stop the other. In their hand is Adam’s own ornamental dagger. Pointing down. Threatening him. This can’t be Hans. The last couple years, learning about him, taking him in– not giving a damn about his past, and practically nursing him back to health after his whole family condemned him. Pouring his heart and soul into this man, and now this? Why? Why such hatred? Because Adam killed his family? The family that in turn hated him? Supposing it isn’t still fair, but this… his– ❝ Please… Just listen–❞.

     ❝– I’ve had enough of your excuses! Your stupid, pathetic excuses! Why can’t you act like everyone and just be normal? You know how perverted you are? To bed another man… You are a sick monster every child fears. You are a monster that killed my family, and I am going to be the hero and stop you from doing anymore…❞ This felt self righteous and due to thesudden memories flooding back of Adam’s recent massacring, because how convenient is a dream if it cannot summon artificial memories? It only seemed right.  Killing him won’t bring Hans family back, but killing him would stop him from hurting anymore people. Triumphed, the french prince looks up at his lover. Gleaming of the dagger’s edge reflecting off the sun in the room. The bright lights almost a tease to what theme this way. Adam lay there with a bare chest, defenseless to the other’s advances– Even as Hans sat up to aim, and plunge  the blade in, the prince let his arms lay flat. Outstretched in each direction as if it might be a crucifixion. This is fine. Let it happen. If Hans hates me what even is the point in all of this? Looking up at the other, blue eyes watched the maddened green ones–

       { Beginning to shiver–Tossing over to his other side. Choking up.}

           Closing his eyes, he can’t stand the pain of not spending his life with the other. Being loathed by your most loved is worse than death itself. Fine. Oh kill me. Please, if that is how you feel. Just get it over with. ❝  Do it❞.

       ❝  Do what, Adam?❞ A rasped voice replies. Opening eyes, to find that instead of Hans pinning him, he is pinning Hans. Looking into the other’s terrified, confused green eyes. Taken aback by what just happened, swearing it was the other way. Looking at Hans’ Adam begins to relax a little– wondering if maybe he was dreaming… But at the corner of Hans’ lip something begins to take shape. Staring at it for a second, a bead of red falls down the other prince’s chin… Down his neck. Furrowing his brows, Adam picks it up with his finger, giving a taste– blood.

           What in the hell… ???❝ Hans?❞

       ❝  Adam?❞ Following the other’s expression still bewildered and frightened, the direction of their eyes shifts down to their chest. To which Adam follows, looking down at his other occupied hand. ❝ Oh… mon… amour? ❞ The dagger was thrusted deep into the other prince’s chest, Adam’s hand on the hilt– holding it in. Clearly he was the one killing the other, having had the illusion that he was being threatened. An illusion.

         ❝ NO!❞

        {❝  No!❞ Slams his hand.}

            Swallowing roughly, Adam looked back up into those eyes. Looking betrayed, wondering why he did this… ❝  I don’t know– Hans I’m… a Monster– no you are to kill me not… Not this. Hans no… Hans...❞

            Not sure to pull the dagger for fear of the other bleeding out, but the damage was already done. what could be done? What have I done!? Rushing to grasp the back of Hans’ head and upper body- Adam pulls the other close to him. ❝ I’m sorry… Oh my god– Hans, no this wasn’t… I’m so sorry— I knew this … I should’ve just let you be here with…. ❞

            Tears begin to take up his eyes, and his throat as he chokes up. The largest lump.

              Did i just kill him? ❝ Hans— No…  I love you… I can’t be here without you. I didn’t mean–❞

           Rocking back and forth the other in his arms. ❝ It’s okay, Adam. I love you—❞ No. No Don’t forgive me you fool! Hate me! AT least hate me for this!!!

       {Stops breathing– begins to tremble more roughly}

         ❝  No… Stay with me. Please.  I’ll… get you help– I … I will sell the rest of my soul for you. No… Hans. Don’t do this.❞ This can’t be happening! How could this happen??   ❝  I’m sorry, Adam. We won’t be having breakfast together…❞

             Heart is full of dark, anger and hatred towards himself– No… ❝ HANS!❞

             Beginning to rock himself, his lover– bleeding through his fingers, darkening the sheets in this black, and red liquid. Feeling the other co limp, sends Adam into a tailspin of a breakdown. His whole mind, everything– literally losing grasp on reality, and thought. Snapping in sanity–he sobs through clenched teeth. Blaming himself for everything.  ❝  HANS! ❞  

           { ❝ HANS!!! ❞

         Throwing himself up into a sitting position. Sweat trickled down the side of his face as he shook and gasped for air. Heart thudding heavily in his ears as oxygen floods back into his body, making his brain drag– Still taken by that… Not really sure if this was still the dream. Looking around the bed, kicking the sheets back, expecting to be soaked in that black-crimson. There is blood marks about, which pushes him over the edge that this may have happened.

             Not wanting to dare look at the body beside him, incase they don’t wake up for breakfast. Incase it is true. Tears begin to leave his eyes, as the sobs from before are still echoing through him like tidal waves. Dry heaving– he clutches himself with his arms, feeling sick.

            Digging into his own skin with partially changed fingernails–❝  Hans…. Hans… I love you– I love you… I’m so sorry… I love you ❞ Repeating over and over. It appears to have been nothing but a traumatic nightmare. Leaving Adam shaking, and rocking back and forth. Is it over??

      ❝  Hans– I …. ❞ ⚜ ⟆