#Philippe Fix

[giftideasfromaycaramba]

Seraphin, dreaming of gardens full of birdsongs, sunny avenues, and flowers, works as a ticket seller in a metro station underground. One day, after being scolded by the stationmaster for trying to save a butterfly that had flown into the station by accident, he learns that he has inherited an old, dilapidated house.

Overjoyed by the possibilities, he and his friend Plume set about building the house of their dreams, and much more besides! Philippe Fix's illustrations, cinematic in their scope, have enchanted children since their 1967 début. In a fresh translation, Seraphin now allows a new generation to experience the wonder and inventive spectacle of the original.

[navree]

"that you could be so cruel" ok correct me if i'm wrong but does penelope featherington not run a gossip rag that exist solely to publish unsubstantiated rumors about women she doesn't like for various reasons that have profoundly negative repercussions on those women (didn't the publication of marina's pregnancy lead to marina almost dying in her quest to terminate said pregnancy??????) and has in fact used that same rag to put not just colin's entire family but also specifically colin's sister, her best friend, through a significant amount of grief and strife that came as a direct result of that rag?

but colin's the cruel one? because she happened to eavesdrop on a conversation where he said he doesn't wanna date her? that's cruelty but all the other stuff isn't?

[gonzague-if]

Recently, I saw a bunch of I can fix them memes, and out of curiosity, which of the various LIs fall on the scale of I can fix them, I can make them worse, ect in a relationship with Gonzague?

Ohoho that's a very fun question, thank you!

Peyrolles - They would fall right in the middle, they don't want to change Gonzague, they're perfect as is. <3 (They're really not...)

Aurore - We could fix each other.

Nevers - I could fix them.

Chartres - I could make them worse. (Only because he doesn't know how bad they already are.)

??? - They could make me worse.

[malinda-knowles]

NYC Restaurant Week: Top 3 Must-Try Favorites

NYC Restaurant Week: Top 3 Must-Try Favorites #food #foodie #restaurants #newyork

Estiatorio Milos’ Milos Special Hey there! So it’s been a little bit of time since I was in the city but I just had to share some of my favorite restaurants participating in New York Restaurant Week from January 16 to February 4th. If you’re not familiar with the week, restaurants provide discounts and prix-fixe menus so that you can have a somewhat less expensive dining experience.  So, here are…

[piftheone]

Philippe - Réparateur vélo à domicile - Cyclofix.com

Philippe - Réparateur vélo à domicile - Cyclofix.com

[soapybutt17]

Labour pt.1

Summary:A mission has gone sideways, you find your husband compromised alongside Gaz and because of it you were tasked with handling most of the mess that came after. What you didn’t expect was to be chewed out and spat on by one Philip Grave. Character: John Price x F!Wife!Reader. Philipp Graves. Simon "Ghost" Riley, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish. OC Children (Joey, Katherine). Price's mother (Beatrice Price). Word Count: 2,160 Chapter Warnings: Misogynism. Sexism. Graves is being a complete peace of shit here. Angst. Reader is literally breaking down here. Only hurt no comfort until the second part. John is being a little bit of a POS here. Author's Note: Song Inspo is this

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part II

You tried you best, you truly did but it was not easy to keep a straight face as you were notified that both your husband and Gaz were compromised because of wrong intel. It was hard not to scream at Laswell because it was her intel that left your husband wounded and barely awake as the doctors were tending to his and Gaz’s wound. It was even harder to reassure both Ghost and Soap that everything would be alright even if it wouldn’t be.

“What the fuck happened?”

No, this was actually the hardest for you as you stared at the obnoxiously arrogant bastard of a man named Philip Graves. He was blaming everyone else but himself. His shadows all nodding along with his rant while you sat in the meeting room. You kept silent. You wanted to wait until he let out all of his steam before you began. But it doesn’t seem like he was stopping any time soon.

“We followed Laswell’s Intel. Someone might have caught wind of it and attacked first.” It was Ghost that decided to cut the ranting.

It’s been a long and far too tedious mission for everyone and it’s coming close to a year now since you and your husband have returned back home. Close to a year since you’ve actually seen your son and daughter and missing out on most of their milestones because of it. You were at your breaking point and men blaming you want not helping in the matter.

“Laswell’s intel was perfect it was the execution your team made that ruined the mission.”

You took a deep breath as the anger grew ten folds because of the man.

“Are you done?” You inquired knowing it was time to talk since the conversation was going nowhere.

As the man shuts up, surprised even with your calm tone even with the stress of the failed mission. You gave both Ghost and Soap a warning look. It was all they needed from you to know you could deal with this.

“The intel was perfect a day or two before we headed out for the mission. No one here would realize that their movement and plans would change.” You explained. “We will do our best to fix this.”

“I don’t fucking need you to do your best to fix this!” Graves spat slamming his hand on top of the table that separated the two of you. “I want you to fucking do your job! Or has motherhood and becoming Price’s wife turned you into an incompetent soldier?”

You blinked, genuinely taken aback by the man’s words. In the years since you and your husband had finally allowed everyone to know about your relationship and marriage, never once had anyone say something as malicious as the man did in front of you.

“I am the best soldier before I became a wife or a mother.” You spat raising from your chair to look at the man straight in his eyes. “Do not use my family for your sick plan to hurt me, Commander. You are not the one in control of this mission, you are merely a pawn that we will more than happily discard once the mission is over.”

“Then act like it.” He spat.

You cracked your neck counting to ten trying to calm the bubbling anger fighting to come out. You still had your resentment and apprehension for having Graves participate in the mission. More than just how he and Shepard has betrayed your team back in Las Almas, you never truly trusted a man that had openly admitted that a woman like you did not truly fit in the military. This moment has cemented it.

The meeting was eventually dismissed and you made a beeline towards your husband’s office—rather, your temporary office while you handle most of the paper works while he was unavailable. You had ensured that the door was locked before the first line of tears had fallen from your eyes.

It was frustrating, to have everything you had worked on since an early age and every single sacrificed you had to make for the family you had created with your husband to be wasted by such words. You were reduced to just being your husband’s wife and the mother of his children. You were not acknowledged as the Lieutenant that had spearheaded in Makarov’s capture all those years ago, not acknowledged as the best sniper in your generation, not acknowledged as the best medic of the team. You were nothing more than a woman that served her husband and children.

Your phone dinged and the sight of your mother-in-law sending you a video of your son taking his first step further broke you as you fell to your knees and wept. Everything was falling apart all at once and you didn’t know how to navigate everything on your plate without being questioned.

~

The moment John had opened his eyes, he was greeted by the sight of his beautiful wife sitting beside where he laid. You were buried deeply in what he assumed were the mission report.

The first thing he had noticed about you were your puffy eyes that weren’t just from the lack of sleep but for tears that he was uncertain what had caused it. Even in the pain that came from his wounded shoulder, his moved his arm gingerly and held onto your hand taking you by surprise.

“John!” You gasped placing the paper work you were signing on the opposite chair that was your impromptu table while you stayed with him. “How are you holding up?”

“Alive so that’s good news.” He tried to minimize what had happened. “How long was I out?”

“A week now.” You answered looking at the clock above the bed. “Do you want me to call the doctor?”

He shook his head, not wanting to deal with a doctor just yet. His time with his own wife was more important than having to deal with the coats.

“What happened while I was out?” He inquired knowing it was better to know what was wrong than having himself second guess and annoy you.

“Mission was completed with the few hiccups with what happened to you.” You began with a sigh. “Had to do the debriefing with Graves and Shepard while making sure to keep Soap and Ghost in a tight leash and stop them from lashing out.”

John tried to decipher the deeper meaning from your words. There was something more you weren’t telling him. It was always like this with you, you always try to minimize what hardship that rested on your shoulders even the lashing that was thrown at your direction at the expense of your own feelings.

“What happened?” He repeated hoping it was enough to have you telling him the truth.

“Nothing you needed to worry about, Captain.” You avoided but how you called him Captain when it was just the two of you.

John tried. He truly tried not to worry but even after he was discharged from the infirmary and he continued on with what you had left off from his paper works he noticed the distance that had wedged itself between the two of you.

No longer did you try to stay in his office longer than you usually did. You didn’t even try to approach him unless there was someone else present. Yes, he truly did try not to worry but it was hard when he knew something was certainly wrong.

“What happened during the debriefing?” John couldn’t help himself any longer and the first opportunity that he had caught sight of both Soap and Ghost without you present he took his chance.

He watched the shared look between the duo.

“Still hasn’t told you what happened?” Soap inquired.

“I wouldn’t ask if she had, would I?” John quipped right back.

“Just some misogynistic bullshit being spewed by Graves.” Ghost was quick to end the to and fro that was evidently happen when it comes to Soap.

“Thank you.” John nodded and a plan was already formed in his head for what needed to be done.

~

“My darlings.” You couldn’t help but almost be in tears at the sight of your children in the airport with your mother-in-law.

With the mission over and done with, you and your husband were finally allowed to be home for the next few months—more so with your husband still recovering from his injuries.

You had wrapped your three year old and nearly one year old into your arms peppering them with kisses as your husband greeted his mother. You took a good look at them, so pained by how grown they were in the seven months of not being able to see them.

“Mama!” Your son, Joey mumbled at you with his small hands gripping onto the collar of your shirt.

You heard your husband grunt, bemused by the fact that your son’s first word was you instead of him. Turning to your mother-in-law, Beatrice, you gave her a quick hug appreciating her help with keeping the fort up for you and your husband. You owed her a good vacation with your father-in-law.

“Hope John would be alright now that he’s back. You know how he is with injuries.”

You peered at your husband that was forced by the doctor to wear a sling for the next few weeks while his shoulder heals. You definitely know how much of a baby the man could be every single time he’s injured. He would do anything but rest and heal. You just hope your children could keep him busy for the mean time.

“I’ll deal with him, Mum.” You reassured her with a smile. “Now, what don’t we go and treat you and Dad to some boogie five star dinner like we promised?” You inquired earning a peck from your mother-in-law in the cheek.

Eventually after dinner with your family, you had drove your husband and children back to your home. John had been becoming moodier as the minute passed, with the pain finally kicking in. Now you had to deal with three children that were getting uncomfortable being confined in the care for more than an hour.

Your patience was already laying thin with your husband not helping with your children crying at the backseat. With your children both in the confinements of their car seats and not being able to move as much, they were no help to your growing fouler mood. Your husband was silent in all of this, living in his own world dealing with his own discomfort for having to deal with the bullet hole to his shoulders and his refusal to drink painkiller to deal with it.

“John, the kids. Please.” You finally spoke, hoping he could finally take the hint.

“What do you want me to do?” He snipped and your felt your blood boil and ready to snap and before you could even do, the sudden ring of his phone interrupted you.

He moved slightly from his seat beside you to pull his phone up and immediately answered a call from Laswell, disregarding your request to keep the kids quiet and talked to the woman with your children crying in the background.

Once again, you felt so alone in this situation. It felt so unfair. So fucking unfair to you having to deal with both children, hoping and praying that bribing them with ice cream or sweets would appease them both, but it only made things worse and John demanding you to shut them up was enough for you to stop the car in the middle of the road.

Without another word, you turned the car off, unbuckling your belt and leaving the car slamming the door shut finally silencing both your husband and children.

In the middle of the deserted road, with the cold breeze of the midnight skies you screamed at the top of your lungs. You punched the closes tree that you could see. Punched the fucking trunk over and over as everything you had bottled up has finally overflowed and you were genuinely worried if you were finally going through a psychotic breathe because of it.

In your screams and punch, you halted as the wetness finally fell against your cheeks. You were truly losing your sanity as you sobbed over and over again for everything you had to deal with in the base and mission. Graves’ words that were meant to belittle your incompetence as a soldier dug through your heart more than you had ever thought it would.

You were tired. Just so tired.

When you could barely feel the tears falling anymore, you let out one last pained scream before finally wiping your tears and making your way back into the car. The silence in the car was a relief as you turned the car back on and continued driving.

“Darling…”

“Don’t, John. Just fucking don’t.”

[trueangel420]

Edward Philippe Mott / fem reader, you’ve resist his ‘charm’ and ignored his letters for far too long, imagine, wc 1354

You sat in the carriage, your hands grasping around your feather, swaying it in front of you as the heat of South Carolina got to you slowly but surely. You had received several letters, so many that your parents had no choice but to send you to him—Lord Edward Philippe Mott. He was a well-to-do man, in other words, wealthy beyond measure. When he moved to the middle of nowhere, he kept in touch with his only friend, you.

Many people admired Edward, men and women alike, and he was sought after. Your parents ensured you stayed connected, hoping you would wed him and provide an heir. But you wanted nothing to do with Edward in that way…. he was your childhood friend, and his erratic behavior was worrisome. The letters he wrote piled up in your drawer, leaving no room for you to even answer back, the ink in his feather lessening more and more.

As the carriage bumped along the dusty road, you loosened your corset, trying to comfort yourself from the heat. Your gown, a fine muslin dress in the latest style with short sleeves and a high waist, clung uncomfortably to your skin. You longed for the cooler mornings of home, where you could enjoy a leisurely breakfast of cornmeal mush and honey or sip on a cup of hot tea.

Arriving at Edward’s estate, you were struck by its grandeur. The house was large, built in the vintage style with tall windows and a wide veranda. Servants bustled about, and you were ushered into a parlor where a spread of refreshments awaited. There were platters of ham, sweet potato pudding, and freshly churned butter. The table was set with delicate china cups for the sweet tea.

Edward sat there, wearing an expression you had only seen before on people right before they faint. “Madam,” he whispered, his voice filled with longing and shock. He looked around the room at the maids, shooing them away immediately, his voice booming through the room.

“Leave us,” he commanded. The maids scurried out, their skirts rustling and heads bowed, leaving you alone with Edward. His eyes, usually so full of mischief, were now wide and haunted.“You’ve gotten my letters? The ink for my quill?” he asked, standing up and moving towards you, leaving only an inch between you two.

“Ah, Lord Mott—” He leaned down, eyes focusing on you as he fixed his waistcoat.

“Skip the formalities, my treasure.”

You felt a lump start to form in your throat. You had forgotten why you were here—you had to confront him about the words he wrote and the way he spoke of you. “Edward, you mustn’t send me any more letters,” you said slowly, watching his reaction.

“I will do what I please,” he snapped, though his tone remained soft as he took in your appearance. “You will stay here for a fortnight.”

“Edward, please understand,” you implored, your voice trembling. “Your words… They cause me great distress. I cherish our friendship, but your letters… they speak of things I cannot repeat.” You had only read one letter, one out of the thousands he sent—he could tell because he had spoken so loosely with his quill that he didn’t expect you to show up.

“Do you not wish to stay here with me? Am I not worthy of your affections?” His voice trembled slightly, Edward was used to getting what he wanted, and when he wanted it.

He was more than worthy to you; he was everything you had ever wanted. But it was improper. A lady such as yourself was not part of the ton—you were middle class, with no lords in your family. Yet Edward treated you as though you were like him.

“Edward, you are more than worthy,” you said softly, your voice catching. “But our worlds are different. I am not of noble birth, and to stay here with you would invite scandal.” He stepped closer, his expression earnest. “This isn’t your home, this is mine, and it is only us here. I don’t care for the ton; I don’t care about any of that, for it shall not exist if I am here with you. So stay here, please. I do not beg; I am not used to begging, but I am begging you,” he croaked, his rich dark brown eyes staring into yours intently, the same eyes that made you gasp for air.

Your resolve wavered as you looked into his eyes, feeling the depth of his emotions. “Edward, it is not that simple. My staying here could ruin your reputation, your future.”

He shook his head fiercely. “What is a future without you in it? I would rather face scandal and disgrace than live without you. You are my heart, my soul, my everything.” Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as you felt the intensity of his words. “Edward, I... may I be excused?”

“Yes, you may…” You practically bolted to the guest room at this, your hands shutting the mahogany door quickly, covering your eyes. You stayed in the room until night, carefully lighting your candles. There was something so serene about your situation—he wanted you desperately, so deeply, and you wanted him. But at what cost? What if you failed to provide an heir? What if his family frowned upon you? They liked you as his friend, but as his wife? What would people make of it?

You let your hair down, the tight curls cascading down your neck as you stared into the mirror. As you undid your corset, you heard a small knock. You looked back at the door, seeing a paper being slid underneath it. The ink was bright red, and the page only held one sentence. You slowly walked toward the paper, holding it up, your eyes reading it carefully. “When I saw you, I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew,” you read aloud, your eyes widening in disbelief at the boldness of the words.

Edward waited patiently outside the door, his curly mousy brown hair was out now devoid of that awful wig. He had changed out of his formal wear into a simple white shirt and breeches, the fabric soft against his skin. The sight of him in relaxed attire brought an unexpected warmth to your heart. He longed to burst through the door and see your reaction, but before he could gather the courage, you opened it, letting him in and shutting it firmly behind you.

“What am I to make of this?” you asked, holding the note aloft, the bright red ink glimmering in the candlelight.“Make of it that I love you,” he said simply, his eyes wandering over your figure. The sight of a lady with her hair down, the soft fabric of your nightgown flowing around you, made him feel more starved than ever before.

The dim candlelight accentuated the delicate curves of your body, he stared you down. His heart raced as he took in the moment, caught between desire and the weight of telling you how he feels.

“Make of it… that you love me?” you repeated, disbelief lacing your voice.

He nodded, moving closer, invading your space until his chest was nearly pressed against yours. “Make of it that I do. Make of it that you love me too,” he said softly.“Sans toi, je ne suis rien,” he added, his voice a tender whisper. “Tu es la lumière de ma vie.”

You felt warmth spread through you, not fully understanding his French words, but sensing the depth of his affection. The passion in his tone made your heart race. “I love you,” you said, a smile breaking across your face. The candlelight made him look almost angelic, illuminating his features in a soft glow. “Je t’aime plus que les mots ne peuvent le dire,” he breathed, finally wrapping his arms around you in a warm embrace. You melted into him, feeling safe and cherished as he wished you to be.

[rs-hawk]

For the 25 days of Kinkmas, how about a short fix-it for the Beauty and the Beast Christmas movie? Belle falls through the ice, Beast rescues her, but then he just throws her in the dungeon of the castle without even changing her out of her soaking wet, ice cold clothes! What if he instead took her to his bed to get her out of those clothes and warm her up against his big furry body?

I haven’t watched this since I had it on VHS as a kid so forgive me if I get any details wrong.

Kinkmas: Day Seven

The Beast

When the Beast rescued Belle from the freezing water, he couldn’t help the anger that burned his chest. She was cold to the touch, her breathing shallow and her face pale. He held her close to him as he patted her back, barely cringing as she coughed water up onto his fur.

She blinked and looked up at him, the frosty air making her lashes nearly freeze together. He looked… concerned? Frightened? She didn’t say anything as he carried her back to the castle, Philippe and Chip in tow. He hesitated by the tower stairs, considering tossing her there for her insolence, but then she sneezed, and his heart completely melted.

“I’ll get you warmed up,” he mummered, carrying her towards the West Wing.

“Is the Master taking her to his room?” Coggsworth asked as he saw the Beast walking away.

Chip nodded as he looked up at his mother, who has appeared as soon as she heard the door opening. “It appears so,” Mrs. Potts agreed, confused but curious.

The Beast didn’t say anything as he carried Belle through the ruined hallways, not even when she asked, in a weak and shaking voice, what had happened here. He covered her head so she wouldn’t see his ruined portrait. As he finally got to his room, he set her on his bed.

“Fire,” he growled at the fireplace, where it instantly lit up and danced with flames.

“Thank you,” she whispered as he rummaged through his wardrobe to gather thicker blankets and a coat for her.

“Why did you do that? Do you hate it here so much?” he gruffed as he tossed the thick blanket at her.

“No!” she exclaimed, taking off her soaking wet coat and cape to wrap herself up in the blanket. She wanted to take off the rest of her clothes, but was too embarrassed in front of him. “No,” she repeated when he turned to look at her. “I just… wanted to make you happy. I thought maybe if I brought the joy of Christmas back, maybe it would make you smile.”

“Make me smile?” he barked as he closed the distance between them grabbing her by her shoulders. “What if something happened to you? How would that make me smile? You’re the only thing that’s made me feel anything since-,” he cut himself off, his grip on her loosening.

“Beast,” she says in that gentle tone, picking up one of his big paws and putting it to her face. It was nearly as big as her entire head. “Why don’t you come with me to pick out a Christmas tree?”

He didn’t say anything, but she started shivering again, and coughed softly. “Let’s get you out of those clothes.”

He started to slide down her sleeves, but her delicate hands stopped him. “Maybe I should go back to my room and change?”

“You don’t have to,” he said quietly as he let one of his claws trail down her chest and stomach, pushing the frigid fabric more against her skin. “You see me in a near state of undress all the time.”

She considered this, because it was true. He essentially only wore shorts around her at all times. Would it be so bad? Before she could make up her mind, worrying her lower lip between her lips. Just as she was about to still say no, she would go change, he propped himself up on one arm, sliding off his shorts.

“There, now you have nothing to feel nervous about,” he said in a gruff voice.

Her face flushed as she looked up at him, consciously not looking down.

“W-well, I suppose,” she said as she slipped out of her dress, letting him pull her close to him.

His fur was warm and made him feel cuddly. She buried her face in the fur of his neck and she let out a soft sigh of content. Maybe she could stay here. Maybe, she could be happy here.

[gogmstuff]

1880s dress -

Top left  Jean-Philippe Worth afternoon dress (National Gallery of Victoria - Melbourne, Victoria, Australia). From tumblr.com/catherinedefrance 854X1280.

Top right  1886-1887 Worth dress probably worn at Meiji court (Philadelphia Museum of Art). From tumblr.com/threadtalk 1280X1658.

Second row  1884 Vid fönstret by Albert Edelfelt (auctioned). From tumblr.com/peaceinthestorm/713270539668668416/eva-gonzalès-1849-1883-french-lady-with-a; erased spots on black,gloves, and hat w Pshop  2048X2236.

Third row  ca. 1885 Parisienne by Albert Edelfelt (National Gallery - Helsinki, Finland). From tumblr.com/beautifulcentury 2048X2501.

Fourth row left  ca. 1888 Evening dress front (Abiti Antichi). From i-dont-wear-dresses.tumblr.com/post/12591745295/oldrags-evening-dress-ca-1888-abiti-antichi 550X876.

Fourth row center  ca. 1888 Evening dress back (Abiti Antichi). From i-dont-wear-dresses.tumblr.com/post/12591745295/oldrags-evening-dress-ca-1888-abiti-antichi; removed spots & print w pshop 550X797.

Fourth row right  ca. 1888 Evening dress detail (Abiti Antichi). From i-dont-wear-dresses.tumblr.com/post/12591745295/oldrags-evening-dress-ca-1888-abiti-antichi; removed print w Pshop 550X825.

Fifth row  1888 Marta Malatesta Borsari by Adeodato Malatesta (Pinacoteca Civica Il Guercino - Cento, Emilia-Romagna, Italy). From oldpainting.tumblr.com/post/657593663112855552/1888-adeodato-malatesta-marta-malatesta-borsari; fixed spots w Pshop 540X757.

Sixth row  1889 Mrs. Keim by Franz Dvorak (Reading Public Museum - Reading, Pennsylvania, USA). From Wikimedia 745X1200.

Bottom  1880s British evening dress (Metropolitan). From tumblr.com/fashion-inspiration-s 2048X2560..

[oldbookist]

how to make readers think you're an expert on 19th century france

or quick and dirty tricks for writing canon era, because sometimes you just need a convincing historical backdrop for your angsty one shot.

Be specific about your time period! It may seem counterintuitive, but picking a specific year for your fic to take place in actually makes the research part easier. Even if the year isn't relevant at all to the plot and won't be mentioned. Let's say I need to add a political debate to my fic for plot purposes, but I've got no clue what to make them argue about. I'll pick 1828 as my year. I can just pull up the Wikipedia page for "1828 in France" and under "Events" it tells me that there was a new prime minister that year. Wikipedia says he was a more moderate royalist that replaced an ultra-royalist...a perfect topic for debate!

In fact, want to sound really knowledgeable? Sure, you could always have your characters complain about the king, but consider having them talk about the prime minister instead. (eg. Down with Polignac!) The ministers and their governments were powerful but not usually long-lasting or especially popular during this time period. Presumably, Enjolras hated all of them.

...and if you do mention the king, be specific! Louis XVIII, Charles X, or Louis-Philippe? Again, this is easily done by simply knowing what year it is.

Just talking about "The Cause" or "Revolution" (generic) makes it sound like you don't quite know exactly what you're talking about. Luckily, even if that's true, there's an easy fix. Use "the Republic" instead. (That's what "The Cause" is, and what the "Revolution" is for.) Also, unless they're actively revolutioning, it's generally better to refer to Les Amis as "republicans" instead of "revolutionaries," as republicanism is their actual political ideology.

The July Revolution of 1830 is a thing that happened. This is a useful event to reference. Use it to your advantage.

Just namedrop! Look up some operas or books that came out that year. Find some French Romantic authors Prouvaire could be reading. I'll admit it, I'm easily impressed when a fic references Lamartine or Hernani or whatever.

Don't use the word "homosexual." Didn't exist yet. Also, sodomy was decriminalized during the French Revolution...it's a whole complicated thing, but it is not illegal in our time period.

Make them do activities other than writing pamphlets? Writing pamphlets is a time-honored staple of canon era fic. Still, that doesn’t mean we can’t occasionally branch out. Some suggestions: recruitment, mutual aid, posting bail, gathering arms and ammunition, also Les Amis are outwardly a society for “the education of children”!

This is obviously not an exhaustive guide to writing canon era. You might notice that much of this advice boils down to “be more specific,” which is really the trick to seeming knowledgeable. The more specific you can be, the better it’s going to sound. If you do want to do more in-depth research, check out my resource collection!

[reimenaashelyee]

Creator's Guide to Comics Devices: November 2023 Update

The first newsletter since launch came out a few days ago! It summarises all the updates I've made in November, which includes 2 (!) new devices, a sub-device, and other site changes.

Subscribe to the newsletter to get these updates direct to your email.

New Devices:

Aside

A short comment that sits outside of a balloon or character that is not perceived by anyone except the comment maker and the reader. An aside may come from the author, usually placed outside of the panel or near the edges. (Page with examples)

Topper

A secondary row of panels or single panel that goes 'on top' of the main comic. They are typically removable and non-essential, and usually contain the comic's title. (Page with examples)

Sub-device

Markers in Code Switch

Languages are assigned flags, pictographs or other iconographic symbols. (Page with examples)

News from the Curator and Site Changelog

I'm delighted over how well-received the library has been -- thank you to everyone who has shared, commented and provided feedback! I really appreciate the enthusiasm and generosity. <3 As a comics creator taking my first formal steps into the arena of comics studies, there is still a lot to do and to read for the library. Even with 63 devices catalogued, it's only still the beginning! 

From the Interwebs

‘The Creator’s Guide to Comics Devices’ Is the First of Its Kind, an Incredible Resource for Comics Creators & Readers Alike (The Mary Sue, Joan Zahra Dark) Lovely roundup from my fellow Cartoonist Cooperative co-founder Joan setting the historical context for Comics Devices and why an accessible resource is like this is due.  

Kibbles n Bits (Comics Beat, Heidi MacDonald) An enthusiastic feature of the library in Heidi's roundup.

Shout Outs

Thank you to Ritesh, Tan Juan Gee, Samantha Philipps, Blue Dellinquanti, Ted Anderson and Hannah Pallister for their contributions. (I really need to get that credits/curator's notes page set up. That's this month's to-do) Once again, thank you to the Sequential Artists Workshop Teaching Fellowship for supporting the development of the library this month.

Updates to the Site (Nov 2023)

Added the Store page and dedicated a subsection for it on the homepage, if only to direct people to the already-existing zine that’s currently distributed by Sequential Artists Workshop and myself. I might use that page to hold things like signing up for workshops and panels if they ever happen. Added the Newsletter page so it’s easier to link to across the site and elsewhere. Opened up the page that displays all the devices on one page. Added ‘Contribution’ ‘Newsletter’ ‘All Devices’ to the sidebar. Fixed the 404 page. It suggests the Site Map for advice. Finally opened the Links page! Check out all the resources in there! Thank you to folks who have submitted feedback/contribution! I have added new example pages for Harmonious Juxtaposition/Time & Space/Pictorial Lettering/Colour Coding and a longer definition for Map Panel. Added two new devices – Aside and Topper. Added ‘Markers’ and ‘Balloon Styles’ as a subdevice to Code Switch. Finally set up the Gallery page: this is where comics pages featuring the relevant device will be catalogued. Now for the slow work of filling up the galleries…..

New in Store: The Comics Devices Quick Reference Zine Before the website launched, I produced this zine as a promotional thing + quick reference. This is a 12-page zine showcasing the devices in this library as of 2023 (not including the Topper and Aside). Perfect for students, teachers and anyone who needs a quick, in-person reference if there's no wi-fi available. Sequential Artists Workshop is selling copies for North Americans in their online store. Folks in Australia, New Zealand and Malaysia can directly contact me to get a copy. An ebook version is on the way. I will announce it via newsletter.

[letsgetrowdy43]

Chapter one— guilt-ridden

Au Masterlist!!

"Your father and uncles are gonna come in here a ruin my peace and quiet" she mumbled to the six-month-old that rested against her chest. The loud slamming of car doors could be heard from inside the house, the baby quietly murmured to herself as she looked up longingly at the door. Anyone within a five-mile radius could feel the excitement radiating off of the boys, the adrenaline of winning was apparent, and very clearly displayed by the sound of their loud chatting from behind the front door.

"Honey we're home" Jay yelled out as he swung the door open, a wide smile on Philippe's face as pushed in front of the rest of the group, rushing to get his hands on his daughter before anyone else stole her from him. He reached the couch with a wide grin plastered on his lips as he ushered for his best friend to finally pass her over, taking the smiley baby from her mother's hands to hold her against his chest.

“My little lucky charm,” he said bouncing her lightly as she buried her face in his neck, drool covering his t-shirt as her little hands grasped the fabric. "Congrats on the win,” said the woman sitting on the couch, followed by a warm smile as he sat down on the couch next to her, a smile on his face as he lifted the baby up to place a kiss on her cheeks. “Thanks.”

Luca stood in front of the pair with his arms folded over his chest, "this is such bullshit, you always hog her" he pouted and made grabbing hands towards Phil who hugged Flo tighter against his chest. A scoff left Luca's mouth as he turned to the girl sitting to Phil’s left, a longing look on his face as the freshman silently prayed she would step-in in favour of him and make Phil hand the boy over. “It's almost like she's my daughter" Philippe sassed, looking over to the women who un-amusingly looked at him, ushering for him to give the baby to Luca.

Philippe finally passed the baby over to Luca who grinned and walked out of the living room and into the kitchen with her. “You guys played really good,” she smiled and fixed the damp curls falling in his face, “Flo and I watched the entire broadcast, I kinda miss going to the actual games though” She smiled and stood up from the couch to start decluttering the living room of baby essentials

“Is Nolan or the sophomores throwing a party tonight?” She questioned as she threw baby shoes and socks in his direction. “Yeah, but I’m not gonna go.” She frowned as he turned his head to finally look at her instead of the ceiling, “why not?” “I’m not gonna leave her and you alone all night while I’m out partying, I have responsibilities,” he grinned and picked up the teething ring from beside his thigh and shook it before placing it on the coffee table in the bin of other miscellaneous toys.

“You’re also a young adult in university, go have fun” she smiled, “I know you miss it, I know when you force me to go out and do things that I did before Flo I feel better,” she said, stopping her cleaning to sit on the edge of the coffee table to be face to face with him. “I don’t want to put everything on you all the time,” he looked over as she rolled her eyes at his very stupid response, “I already leave enough for hockey it’s not really fair to you” “When we decided to have her, we knew that you already had the team and the responsibilities that came with it, I don’t mind, what I mind is when all you do is play hockey, go to school, and be a dad. In order for you to be your best, you need a little social life” She poked him in the knee as he shook his head.

“I just don’t want you to resent being a father, so please for my sanity and my peace of mind go and be irresponsible” She frowned and pointed toward the group of boys who were goofing around with the baby. “I could never resent you, but I will go and drink enough for the both of us,” he said standing up off of the couch and placing a chaste kiss on her temple before heading to the group of men in the kitchen. “You bet your ass you will” She grinned and followed behind him.

“Now all of you out of my house, you all smell like hockey and it’s Little Miss' bedtime,” she said taking Florence from Grano who smiled and passed the child over, bidding his goodbyes and heading out of the kitchen to collect his things. The rest of them were still laughing along with the squealing baby, her hands clapping as she watched the grown men giggle along with her. “You heard the woman, out,” Philippe said clapping his hands and ushering the other guys out of the kitchen, childlike groans leaving their mouths as they were herded out of the kitchen.

“But I live here?” Eric said stopping in his tracks and going back into the kitchen with his arms crossed and a pout on his face. “You three are the exception babes,” the woman said looking at Steve, Jacob, and Eric who grinned and headed up to their rooms to get ready for their upcoming night out. “You heard the woman! Out!” Eric grinned and started bossing the other boys out of the house along with Philippe.

-❀-

“Why are you washing the baby in the sink?” Steve asked as he rummaged through the fridge for a beer. “She’s not in the sink, her baby tub is in the sink,” the woman said in a duh tone, as she motioned to the six-month-old with sudds in her hair making it look like she had a mohawk, “did your parents never wash you in the sink when you were little?” Steve just blinked at her for a sec while opening his beer before shaking his head. “Plus it hurts my back to bend over the actual tub, so unless you want to wash her you can stop with those judgemental eyes Steven” She bit back as the man stared at her with an amused smile.

Steve left the kitchen not wanting to hear any more mom rants from the girl, “Wait! Steve, can you grab me a towel for Flo?” She called out but was met with a freshly out of the shower Philippe holding up a towel. “You know me too well” She grinned and took the towel with little ducks littered all over it and wrapped their daughter in it. “You forget to grab one literally every time you wash her” he pokes as he takes the clean baby from her mom, a grin on his face as he looks at the baby who yawns into his neck.

She stood there for a second, watching as he bounced her and placed a kiss on his daughter's cheek, grinning at her tired expression. It was no secret that Philippe had become the greatest dad, he was so attentive and so careful with her, he was a dream. He’d been like that since the moment she was born, he never complained, never started arguments. If anyone handled the transition into parenthood in a less perfect way it was her. But something about their dynamic felt like it was on this ice, like any second, any wrong choice of words, any single small action and they would fall right through.

“I'm going to go and change her,” he said softly as she nodded back at him, draining the tub and starting to prepare her last bottle before she went to sleep.

Steve stood in the doorway with the towel she had called out for, “sorry I meant to yell out that I didn’t need it anymore” “You know he’s in love with you right?” She tensed and stared at him “I do” she shook her head and continued to portion out the formula for the bottle, “I just don't love him in that way” She shrugged and cringed as Steve shook his head and left the kitchen.

"You're a cruel woman" he joked as he yelled out at the bottom of the staircase.

A frown was plastered on her face as she finished the bottle and made her way upstairs to her and Florence’s room, Phil sitting on the edge of the bed with his daughter sprawled out on his chest, a new set of fuzzy pyjamas on her as she held his finger in her tiny hand. A soft smile worked its way onto his face as he felt the bed dip next to him, the weight of the baby being lifted off of his chest as she slipped Flo into her arms, the bottle pushed past her lips as she looked down to Phil.

“You look upset,” he said poking her in the thigh. She shook her head, “I'm just tired, ready to get this one into bed so I can get in bed as well” She shrugged and yawned, her free hand holding his as he continued to poke her thigh. “I don't have to go tonight, there will be plenty of parties for me to go to if you're not feeling okay,” he said softly, sitting up more so he could look over her shoulder at the baby’s whose eyes gently fluttered shut.

“I have a feeling she’s gonna be easy tonight, don't worry about me" She leaned up against his arm, cringing as she remember the conversation down in the kitchen, maybe she was really stringing him along, “I've got it under control”

He placed a gentle kiss on the crown of her head as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, fingers gently drawing lines against her skin, “You’ve always got it,” she hummed a small word of appreciation before finally getting up to burp the baby.

-❀-

It didn’t take long to get Flo to bed or to wrestle Philippe out of the house and into the cab, but finally, she was left to her thoughts. Sat comfortably on the couch, some Adam Sandler movie that Jacob had been watching was still on the tv as she buried herself in throw blankets. She had sat down for barely ten minutes before she could hear crying once again, loud wails that made her heart clench as she retrieved her daughter and brought her to the couch to snuggle her as she watched movies.

Her pointer finger traced her daughter's facial features as little Flo blinked at the sensation, big blue eyes just like her father. The resemblance between Florence and her father was very minimal but was something that her mother couldn’t get over. A tiny little nose, and a soft smile that looked just like her dad's.

Her phone began to buzz, a picture of Blanks popping up on the screen as she reached the coffee table for it. “How’re my favourite girls doing?” Nick's voice could be heard on the other end, followed by a hello from Kent and Owen who were all together in Buffalo for a game the next day. “She’s a little fussy, and I'm doing okay,” the woman shrugged as she readjusted the baby on her chest so she could comfortably put the phone up to her ear. “You don't sound very okay,” Owen said taking the phone from Nick and walking over to the other side of the room, he loved a good therapy session. “I'm fine, just tired” He rolled his eyes a the obvious lie, sometimes it's like she forgot that they had spent two years of their lives practically living together.

“Where’s Phil?” “I made him go to a party,” she said nonchalantly, her hands now busying themselves with drawing circles on her daughter's back. Florence drooled all over her chest as she drifted off to sleep, the gentle drumming of her mother's heartbeat lulling her to sleep “You need to stop pushing him away when you need a break” Owen's voice grew concerned making her wince. “I just needed an empty house to clear my thoughts” she mumbled as she pressed pause of the tv show she had started.

“I’m just feeling very all over the place right now” Her words got caught in her throat, a dry laugh leaving her lips as she shook her head at the nonsense she was trying to spew. “How so?” He asked, his voice chillingly calm, her eyes grew teary as she heard Owen telling her to take her time. “I'm just wondering if I made a mistake by letting him be involved, he lost everything when I roped him in,” Owen scoffed and went to speak before she cut him off.

“Steve said something to me, something about Philippe being in love with me and I don't know I just feel guilty all the time about everything.” “Steve should mind his own business,” he said, pausing to push both Kent and Nick away from him so he could continue the conversation without their butting-in conversations.

“I mean we have a kid together, we act like a couple because he’s the father of my kid” she sniffled as Florence's little hands made fists and rested them upon her mom’s collarbone, “Pow I love him, like so much, but I don't think I will ever love him the way that he wants me too” “You don't have to,” you could hear his voice start to grow agitated, not at her, but at the guys, all of them knowing that this situation was fragile. They all knew better than to involve themselves in the new parent's relationship. “But everyone makes me feel like I have to, I love him, and I love that he gave me my daughter and that he’s here for us, but the idea of us being together isn’t something that I ever picture,” she choked out, a short groaned leaving her lips as her hand raked through her hair. “That's okay, fuck Steve and the rest of them, who you love and how you love them is up to you,” Owen said regaining his calm voice, a little reassurance that maybe she wants at fault for everything.

“I just feel bad cause I'm giving him mixed signals, and like I took his young adult life away from him so like I’ve fucked everything for him” She let out a sigh and clung Florence to her chest as she got up to grab a face cloth for her to rid her chin and neck of her drool. “No, you didn’t, and if anyone is saying that they are lying, Phil knows exactly what he’s gotten himself into, you gave him plenty of chances to leave and he didn’t,” It was true Philippe had multiple chances to get out before it was too late, even after she was born but he was still around, “Flo is his responsibility as well, and if anything this fatherhood thing has made him a much better person”

A tear slipped down her cheek as she readjusted herself on the couch, her baby cradled in her arms, “thanks, Owen” “Any time, next time one of the fuckers gives you a hard time or makes you upset let me know” he promised, semi-jokingly as he handed the phone back to Nick.

“Those fuckers should know better, I mean you’re a better person than most of those guys will ever be,” Nick said in a harsh tone, annoyance filling his senses, those boys had promised to make her life easier, to help and create peace, not complicate everything. “Don't say shit like that Blanks” she mumbled. “I'm serious, you are such a strong person, those dumbasses need to stop giving you a hard time” he sighed, knowing that they had no ill intent, they always mean well, they were just stupid at knowing when the time to intervene was.

“They’re just looking out for Philippe” she reasoned, she also knew that Steve’s and other comments that have been made in the past weren’t comments that were supposed to negatively affect her, they just wanted everyone happy. “Lapointe is a big boy, the can make his own decisions and handle his shit, and if he knew that the guys were helping him at your expense I don't think he’d appreciate it very much.”

A gentle knock on the front door startled her out of the conversation, “I’m gonna have to call you back Blanks someone is at the door,” she said warmly, drying the tears on her face as she readjusted the baby in her chest. “Sounds good, we are probably going to head out for drinks so we'll talk in a few days” he promised, as Bothe Kent and Owen in unison yelled out their goodbyes. “Okay, love you guys bye”

She quickly ran over to the door, hoping she didn’t keep the person on the otherwise waiting too long, she swung it opened it to see the very smiley sophomore clad in pyjamas and a smile, “oh, hey Mark” she whispered with a grin as she ushered for him to follow her into the house. “I promised I'd stop by after the game, but I got a little strung up with the trainers and coaches,” He shrugged with a smile before motioning for the woman to pass him over the baby.

“I heard that you're the most penalized player in the league now, Mr. Eighty-seven minutes,” she said giving him the baby and the drool-covered rag before collapsing down on the couch. “Yeah I'm a superstar” he shrugged. “You played well though, minus the penalties” She grinned and nodded at the baby who was now knocked out in his arms.

Flo always had such an easy time with Mark, he claimed it was because he was the first of the guys to hold her and the fact that he and Flo were best friends. The topic of him being the first beside her mother to ever hold her pissed off all the guys, especially Philippe, it was like twisting the knife in the already tender wound, the fact that he couldn’t make it to the birth, and then he wasn’t even the first to hold his baby.

“You made the cutest baby did you know that” Mark’s thumb ran over the fat on her cheeks, a sleepy smile on Flo’s face as she buried her face into his arm. “Why aren’t you at the party?” “wasn’t in the mood,” he said like the answer was obvious as if he wasn’t one of the biggest party personalities in the entire Umich student body.

“Who are you and what have you done with my Mark Estapa?” “Your Mark Estapa, that’s a bold term” he joked, watching as she rolled her eyes. “You know what I meant,” she jabbed him in the thigh with her foot, making a quiet gasp leave his lips, not wanting to wake up the sleeping baby.

“If you wondering why I'm not at the party it's because the prettiest girl that I've been waiting all day to see wasn’t there so there was no point in showing up” He smiled, looking from the baby up to her, a look of amusement on her face as she raised her brows “You’re such a flirt” “I never said I was talking about you, could have been talking about my littlest love right here” He motioned to the baby in his arms, his free hand pulling her pyjama top down to cover her stomach, his little heart pained to see that she was almost too big for her six-month-old clothes.

“I love that nickname” she mumbled, her arms crossed over her chest as she waited for another smart-mouthed response from Mark. “Yeah? You want a similar one?” He shamelessly flirted, looking over at the red spread across both of the woman’s cheeks, “you’re blushing” he said leaning over her legs to run his thumb over the hot and flushed skin of her cheeks “That's true Mark, I am turning red, you’re flirting with me, it's expected,” she deadpanned.

“When are you gonna let me take you out?” He questioned, feigning for the moment that the girl would let her guard down and finally accept his advances. “When pigs fly” She grinned as his face dropped. “I could arrange for that to happen” he murmured to her, his hand raking through his hair and across his face to tame the lush on his cheeks, “you underestimate me”

“Mark I have a baby, and her father is your teammate.” “I'm fully aware of those two facts,” he said smartly pointing down aye the baby sitting in his arms, a grin on his face as she rolled her eyes at his statement.

“It wouldn’t work” She shook her hand and looked away from him, her facial muscles trying hard to not let a smile pull at her lips. “I'm gonna prove you wrong one of these days,” he says confidently, a toothy smile on his face as she watches her look back at him. “I’d like to see you try” she added before pressing unpause on her tv show, ignoring the stare and smile that came from the man

-

-

-

-

this is poorly edited so please don't mind the spelling errors, I will get to the serious editing later

[scandalouslamb]

Coriolanus Snow & Felix Ravinstill: What's in a name?

o puer, qui omnia nomini debes. / Oh, boy, who owes all to a name.

Creator's Notes:

I actually really need to be doing grown up stuff right now, so if I'm weirdly silent after I post this, that's why! Unfortunately, I got hit by inspiration, so my attention has been split. The final piece of the puzzle that I started putting together since writing Tu Fui, Ego Eris finally dropped into my lap!

Latin quote from Cicero's Philippics (13.11): Cicero ascribes the quote to Mark Antony referring to Octavius (later known as Augustus Caesar)

Gifs created by me from TBOSAS movie

English translation of felix taken from Lewis & Short's 4th possible definition.

Quote from TBOSAS Ch. 4

Screenshot from the Wikipedia page for "Gnaeus Marcius Coriolanus"

Screenshot from the Wikipedia page for "cognomen"

Quote from Shakespeare's Julius Caesar (Act 1, Scene 2)

Quote from TBOSAS' epilogue

Illustration of Romulus killing Remus (unable to find a proper source for it. If you know where exactly it's from (book, artist, not all the website reposts I saw), let me know! I got this image from an Ebay seller with prints).

...

I've contemplated potential Cain-Abel parallels between these two, but the Romulus-Remus parallel that struck me like a bolt from the blue really blew my mind. It actually really matches with this webweaving(?) because Romulus and Remus did disagree about the naming of the city... Anyway, while making this, I lowkey forgot that Felix's Death-by-Coriolanus-Arranged-Car-"Accident" isn't canon.

I was tempted to quote Shakespeare's Coriolanus for when the titular character receives his cognomen instead of the Wikipedia pages, but I think this helps emphasize the name bestowed because of deeds idea without any distraction from the point. Also putting the two Wikipedia pages really emphasizes it... rip the second screenshot having smaller text, but that's the page layout's fault, and I'm too lazy to fix it.

[the-jewel-catalogue]

Royals + Watches 2/?

The late monarch was rarely spotted without her lustrous strands of pearls. The Patek Philippe ref 4975/1G was an exclusive commission for Queen Elizabeth and is one of the most breathtaking timepieces in her collection. The dial is surrounded by a diamond-set fixed bezel and crown and held on the wrist by luxurious strands of milky pearls.

In 2015, Her Majesty loaned the timepiece to the Patek Philippe Watch Art Grand Exhibition at London’s Saatchi Gallery.

[adarafaelbarba]

Hii! Anything you’d like to write about Matthew Clairmont pleeeaseeee,may it be headcanon or something fluffy with a bit of smut of him ×reader 🥺🥺 thank u!

An: first things first, I’m so sorry I’ve not written this sooner. Life happened 🥲

Anyways, hope you like this 🥰 Hinting at smut, but nothing happens 😏🥰

“Matthew”, you whispered, leaning over him where he sat and pressing a kiss against his cheek. “Gabriel”, you went on, kissing his other cheek. “Philippe”, he let out a soft huff at that, but let you kiss his neck. “Bertrand—.”

Matthew grabbed your hand then, “Don’t. Call me. That.” 

“Sébastien.” Your voice was soft as he glared down at you. “Let go of my arm, my love.”

It took a few moments, and then he let go of you, turning back to the desk, sitting down.

“Come back to bed my love. It’s cold there without you.”

Of course, it was cold when he was there too, but you liked the coldness he emitted.

“I’ll be back before you know it mon Coeur. Go back to bed.” 

But you didn’t leave. Instead walking the few steps to his desk and hopping up, looking at him.

“Please, please, please, let me finish my work.”

“You can do it in the morning.”

Matthew looked up at you with a dark look, his hands smoothing over your soft skin.

“I miss you. Come back to me.” You pleaded in a soft whisper. 

Although usually stubborn, you knew a way to break his façade. Slowly opening your legs while maintaining eye contact with him, you watched as the danger in his eyes was replaced with hunger. With a swift movement he was up and carrying you to bed, ready to give into your wish and needs.

His lips on the sweet spot of yours as soon as the door was closed.

“You should know better than to tease me like that.” His voice a low rumble in his throat.

“It was the only way. I was lonely in here without you.”

He huffed, dropping you on the bed and getting in on top of you. “I guess I’ll have to fix that then, don’t I?”

You nodded excitedly, pulling at his shirt and trying to get him undressed.

“Such an eager little thing aren’t you mon Coeur?” He had the slightest hint of a smirk on his lips.

It was unfair how easy he made it look when undressing you. He could get you naked in a matter of seconds, without breaking a single button, while you took longer. 

“Matthew--?” your voice betrayed you, his name coming out as a needy whimper.

“Patience.” If it wasn’t for the fact that he was a vampire, you’d slap that smirk off his lips. But instead, you could only watch his face as he teased you, a pout evident on your own face.

“You’re not playing fair babe.”

He simply laughed, dipping his head to kiss you softly. “You want me to play fair huh?”

You nodded, pouting still. 

“I’ll play fair.” A glint of mischief evident in his eyes as he dipped in for more kisses.

~~~

Tagging:

@plaidbooks @xoxabs88xox @muchadoaboutcj @beatrice-san @adowbaldwin @butternuggets-blog @rozalynfrozen

[baldwin-montclair]

Baldwin’s Nightingale (Part 20)

Characters: Baldwin Montclair/OC

Timeframe: Can safely say AU at this point, after Matthew and Diana go back in time and before they return

Summary: After escaping Benjamin (and Gerbert) with help of Rebecca’s magic, the trio arrive in Sept Tours. Questions demand answers, secrets are revealed and the newlyweds encounter a serious challenge to their marriage.

Spoiler Warning: TV Show canon S1-S2, goes AU after that, some Book of Life

Tag requests: @christi14 @poemfreak306 @pookie-cleary @hofficoffi @stormyheart326 @wonderlander594 @madamquacklemore @thereadersmuse @kynthiamoon @ordinarymom1 @fuzzyflowervoid @maybelightning @lady-lazarus-declermont @whoa-studymuch @shugensha

The Story So Far

Alisha swallowed hard as nobody moved for several seconds. Baldwin and Marcus had been interrupted mid-fight and the rest of the gathered creatures stood in reflex to the vampire brawl about to blow through the room.

“Becca,” Miyako grabbed her cousin’s arm, pulling her back, and putting herself between the bright-born and, potentially, her father.

Understanding what was possibly about to happen, Alisha joined Miyako in front of Rebecca.

Baldwin released Marcus and carefully regarded the three women.

“I see you returned my wife, safely, thank you Miyako,” Baldwin’s voice dripped with sarcasm, “I’m sure she simply got lost when this witch abducted her from the safety of her home.”

“You know she didn’t kidnap me,” Alisha answered back, causing both Miyako and Marcus to regard her with wide eyed fear, the latter even shaking his head in the hope to discourage her from provoking him.

“You know who I am,” Rebecca spoke up, drawing Baldwin’s ire from his wife and his daughter.

“I’ve known both who you are and where you have been for the last two weeks.”

“You let us think our friend was lost and in danger for all that time?” Nathaniel fumed.

“It was for their safety, the decision had nothing to do with you.”

“Stop this,” Ysabeau interjected calmly, regarding Rebecca with a flash of warm familiarity that Baldwin luckily did not see.

“That magic, I know it,” Sarah shook her head in confusion.

“You called her Rebecca.” Emily addressed Miyako.

“And Montclair called her a witch.” Sarah agreed.

“A witch and a vampire,” Marcus added, “with Matthew’s blood.”

“Papa,“ Miyako started carefully.

“Stop talking,” he warned and fixed his gaze upon Marcus.

“Take Madame de Clermont to our rooms, do whatever checks you need to do to ensure she is well.”

Marcus took a breath to argue but the look on Baldwin’s face was one he knew well.

Disagreement would not be productive.

“I’m fine,” Alisha argued, “and I’m staying with Rebecca and Miyako.”

“Miyako, escort our guest to my office,” Baldwin continued, ignoring Alisha’s protest, “I suggest the smaller reception room for your gathering Ysabeau, this one is much too draughty for warmbloods.”

“Wait-“ Sarah started but was led away by Em and followed behind by Nathaniel.

“Alisha, please,” Marcus held out his hand to gesture she lead the way and follow Baldwin’s directions.

Annoyed but with Baldwin, not Marcus, and not wishing him trouble, she relented and led Marcus and Phoebe to the turret.

Ysabeau glanced at her granddaughter then to Baldwin when the others had left.

“You know who she is?” He challenged.

“She has my blood, of course I know who she is.”

Baldwin sighed deeply crossing his arms and leant against the table.

Ysabeau recognised the exasperated, exhausted look as one frequently displayed upon his father when the strain of holding everything together became apparent.

She knew why he was struggling but would never say it as it would not be constructive.

He needed Matthew.

Alone, he was one half of the equation, the rod. Matthew was the carrot, Philippe had told her so himself, only together could they make things work.

Now, she believed for the first time that even Philippe failed to foresee the effect both of their mates would have on this equation.

“I will speak with her and Miyako, then, if you wish, you may converse with her.”

“What about Marcus and her aunts?”

“Of course Marcus can, but there is no way I’m telling my sisters about this.”

“Nor would I but I meant Diana’s aunts.”

“This is a family matter, the witches aren’t family.”

“They’re her family!” She told him firmly but carefully.

“Very well,” he grumbled and stood.

Ysabeau smiled and gave him a kiss on the cheek, leaving before he could process the caring gesture and before she could see the almost imperceptible quirk of a smile.

“Here,” Phoebe handed Alisha a glass of water from a nearby carafe, “drink this, you’re white as a sheet.”

Alisha noted her giving a concerned look to Marcus, in the process of him checking her pulse and blood pressure.

“Thank you,” Alisha took the glass gratefully, “Phoebe.”

“Vitals are fine and since I value my life I won’t ask what got you so afraid.”

“I’m not…” she trailed off as she saw Marcus regard her with doubt, “it’s best for both of us if you don’t.” Alisha agreed quietly.

“You’re concerned your husband would harm you?” Phoebe prompted.

“Phoebe,” Marcus warned.

“I know vampires have their rules, Marcus, but I won’t just sit back and let that…fucking brute abuse her.”

“Baldwin has never harmed me, and he wouldn’t,” Alisha assured her warmly, “but if I were ever in that situation I’d want a friend like you.”

“We’ll be family soon,” Phoebe corrected reaching out a comforting hand towards her shoulder, stopped only by Marcus catching her wrist firmly but gently.

“She’s been gone for two weeks, any new scent near her could set him off.”

“Your sister is a new scent.”

“No, she’s not, I can’t explain it but she seems to have my grandfather’s blood as well.”

“I thought vampires couldn’t have children biologically.”

“There’s a lot we’re still learning but it has happened before.”

Marcus looked questioning at Alisha.

“I can’t, anything I might say could change how things are supposed to play out. Only Rebecca knows what’s safe to tell. I hope you understand.”

He nodded with reluctance.

Gallowglass hadn’t answered his call when Baldwin sought to tell him about the appearance of the trio.

It was not like him but Baldwin hadn’t the time to ponder before Gallowglass called him back.

“Something happened,” Gallowglass started as soon as Baldwin accepted his call, “I followed them to Venice but they’re just gone-“

“Stop, Gallowglass,” he sighed, “they’re here, they’re safe! And you didn’t answer when I called you!”

“I was busy. How did they get there?”

“You told me about the witch, seems she inherited her mother’s abilities.”

Gallowglass heaved a deep sigh of relief and chuckled.

“I should have known that wee pissant Benjamin wouldn’t have gotten the best of Miya.”

“Benjamin,” Baldwin fumed, “Fuchs, Matthew’s fuckup that keeps on giving was near my wife and my daughter?”

“According to Domenico, who’s still alive but barely. His children are looking after him.”

“Leave now, go to the airport, my plane will be waiting for you!”

“I’m not afraid of Benjamin, or that decrepit old pope Gerbert.”

“Gerbert is working with Fuchs?”

“Aye, but I can handle it!”

“If Gerbert and Fuchs are working together it’s not safe, they probably killed Peter.”

“I’ve seen off more Christians in my time than you have, Uncle, I can handle this one.”

“I’m not arguing with you, come home!”

“You know France has never been my home, not after-“

“I know, I shouldn’t have said that. You’re right, France may not be home but we are, I expect you here by the morning.”

There was an audibly furious silence on the other end of the line.

“Yes Sieur.” Gallowglass hung up.

Baldwin sighed with relief.

Even in death, Hugh would never forgive him if he let anything happen to Gallowglass on his watch.

Shaking the thought off, he strode towards the office where his daughter and the witch awaited him.

“Is everything alright?” Rebecca prompted.

“Of course,“ he took his seat opposite them, “so just how far ahead in the future are you, exactly?”

“Eighteen years.” Rebecca answered.

She knew her uncle, he could be kind, affectionate and generous with his time but she also knew of his impatience when information was critical.

He nodded solemnly.

“I suppose I already got two thousand years, I probably shouldn’t lament a shortness of time.”

“There are things we cannot tell you about the future-“ Miyako started.

“And yet I know if I was there I’d never have let this happen.”

“Father-“

“Does this future include Benjamin Fuchs?”

Miyako and Rebecca glanced at one another, shocked.

“Gallowglass was following you, at my behest but he lost the trail when you appeared here.”

“Is he alright, did Fuchs attack him?” Miyako asked.

“He’s fine, apparently Domenico was forthcoming with his version of events.”

“He’s alive?” Rebecca asked hopefully.

“He’ll live,” Baldwin regarded her curiously, “Gallowglass will be back soon but in the meantime, you’re going to tell me why you sought out Domenico.”

“Father, your rules, as you said-“

“I am aware of what I said, but I am also aware that you already changed things by removing Catarina from her time!”

“You know-“ Rebecca started.

“No, I suspected,” he answered sharply “now I know!”

“We saved her to prevent something worse happening in the future,” Rebecca admitted, “we didn’t know then that she was your mate and our intention was not to reunite you. Obviously fate intervened.”

“I suppose Michael was someone from your time you could trust?”

“One thing changed since he won’t be there now.” Rebecca confirmed.

“Anything else drastically different?”

“Knox, he shouldn’t be dead yet.”

“But there’s not too big a jump.” Miyako countered.

“Keep going!” Baldwin warned and noted Rebecca’s anxious expression.

“Emily,” she admitted, “Knox was killed because he killed her first.”

“I’m sorry Papa, I know I’m not your Miyako-“

“Stop talking,” he warned her, “you tried to act the same and your effort was commendable, cbut I know when my daughter is behaving strangely.”

“I wasn’t behaving strangely.” Miyako frowned, offended by the insinuation her cover wasn’t sufficient.

“I can count on one hand how often you called me Papa before you visited for the wedding, I estimate you came to this time just after I sent you to Seoul?”

“Yes.” She said in quiet defeat.

“Never tell me you are not my daughter because in anywhere at anytime, you will always be my Miyako. Is that understood?”

“Yes,” she paused, “Papa.”

He smiled warmly and turned to Rebecca.

“Gallowglass couldn’t tell me much more than what you shared when you first arrived.”

“And I knew you would understand the danger of messing with the timeline, as Grandad did when Mum and Dad visited him.”

“Messing with the timeline,” he huffed, “you have done a lot of that already. Does my wife know, who she was?”

“There’s knowing and there’s remembering. She knows she was Catarina but doesn’t remember being her.”

“Alright, what doesn’t she know that I have to?”

“Something happens in the future that forced us to go back to fix things. Because it’s related to future events, we can’t tell you.” Miyako explained.

“We got Catarina to make this video before the spell, insurance policy.” Rebecca placed a memory stick on his table.

“She agreed to you taking her memory?”

“Suppressed. She wanted a complete wipe, to protect you and what she knew about our family. I convinced her to do it this way instead.”

“She’s started remembering her ability to understand written and spoken language.”

“Michael’s elixir,” Miyako agreed, “he had it created so that if anything happened to him, she would remember who she is. It wasn’t part of our deal.”

“So she’ll gradually remember?”

“In time.”

“Is she a threat to herself or to others?” He asked pointedly.

“No.” Rebecca assured

“Absolutely not.” Miyako echoed her cousin’s sentiment.

“Very well,” he confirmed, feeling slightly more assured, “I would encourage you both to remain here although I suppose I cannot prevent your leaving, given your talents.”

“As the head of this family and with my father absent I ask for sanctuary, Sieur.”

“Granted. I suppose you will enjoy spending time with your Grandmother, brother and cousin, when he shows up.”

“And you?”

“Me, what about me?”

“If you have time I was hoping you’d take me on a hunt. I am half vampire.”

“Matthew actually allows you to hunt?”

“No, he didn’t teach me.”

He raised an eyebrow but didn’t question her further.

“Marcus can supply you with bagged blood tonight, first thing tomorrow all three of us will go on a hunt. I’m curious to see my training at work.”

Alisha stood upon hearing the door open.

Baldwin entered with an expression she couldn’t read easily. He wasn’t angry but nor was he contrite.

That was fine, neither was she.

“Marcus assured me you are well.” He said simply, shrugging himself out of his jacket.

“I was safe with Miyako and Rebecca, of course I’m well.”

Baldwin was turned away from her when she heard the cuff-links drop into a bowl on the table.

“And yet,” he turned back to her, “mistake or no, they almost served you up to a sadistic little cretin”

She didn’t say anything, unsure as to what she was permitted to reveal.

“That wasn’t their their fault.”

“You’re right,” he stalked closer, “it was yours.”