#but I dipped from the game for a while and came back for Fontaine what the FUCK is happening

[oldworldghost]

Does anyone have a comprehensive list/collection of Childe lore they’d be willing to share with me

[minah-delacroix]

games, changes, fears

Minah Delacroix, Paris - France, Summer of 2019

There’s a two-pound Scottish lobster staring at Minah.

Surrounded by luscious fresh salad and an array of exotic sea fruits, with its gray blueish tail and saffron-colored pincers, the crustacean stares at Minah with its lifeless dark eyes full of judgment and disapproval.

Truthfully, the dead animal is not genuinely staring at Minah. And she knows it, but she’s been sitting at Alain Ducasse’s best table for over an hour now, and her mind is starting to run wild amid the voids within the conversation with her boyfriend and the spans of uncomfortable silence settling between them.

Julien Toubeau is all cheerful smiles and gentle eyes, hair perfectly tussled to the back and impeccable outfits that seem to cost more than Minah’s couture dresses. He’s the kind of devastatingly handsome that could easily fit the main role of any rom-com movie or a modern Jane-Austen-esque literary character. However, today Julien Toubeau is all frowns, curt answers, and intimidating glares. If Minah was a little bit lesser of character, she would probably be afraid of him.

But she isn’t.

There’s also a sharp sting of guilt preventing Minah from saying anything that can potentially hurt her boyfriend or simply leaving the premises of Paris’ most exclusive restaurant with some sort of dumb excuse. Not to mention her strong love and respect for Julien. Because yes, they’re probably going through some issues at the moment and she might doubt her romantic feelings for him, but she truly loves Julien. It might not be the kind of love he expects in return, but at the end of the day it’s love nevertheless and it’s what’s stopping her from breaking his heart.

For now.

The Delacroix residence always seems to radiate the same dainty and sublime glow that’s reminiscent of palatial historical constructions. Even for someone with Julien Toubeau’s ancient lineage and aristocratic heritage, it results impossible not to feel the tiniest bit intimidated by the majestic air of “La Maison de Breteuil”, in the chic 7th arrondissement of Paris. The young man is briefly pulled off from his concerns regarding Minah and their feeble relationship as the giant building materializes on the horizon and his car goes through the main gate. A message etched on the stone of one of the columns reads “Bienvenue à la Maison de Breteuil.”

Once the driver parks Julien’s grandfather’s Alfa Romeo Lugo Spider in front of the marble staircase, Julien pushes the door open and offers a hand to help Minah out. She smiles politely —almost forcefully, in Julien’s opinion— and grabs his hand.

“Thanks for the lovely evening,” Minah says. Unsure of what else she’s supposed to tell, she tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “I’ll... see you around?”

“Okay” Julien nods simply. There hasn’t been that many moments in his life he could consider ominous, but there’s something in the way Minah looks at him that makes Julien understand this is definitely one of them. He knows perfectly well what’s to come. He’s known for weeks now and while it is quite evident for someone who’s known Minah since she was a little girl, demanding and mischievous, that always managed to get whatever she wanted, the way she wanted; somehow, Minah seems not to be fully aware of it yet. Or maybe she is, but she’s still refusing to let go of what Julien represents…. The security of a relationship that has apparently always meant to be, that safe place where she’s always known she’d be able to return even if the entire world failed her.  

Minah and Julien have grown up together since the earliest of their years. They became partners in all their childhood exploits and they’re each other's first love.  It has never been a secret for any of them that their grandparents regard a potential relationship between them as a means to an end, which evidently is to consolidate the power of their families. There are not many households the Delacroix consider deserving and of the same social status as theirs, so such incipient romance is considered to be the perfect alliance to merge the wealth of two of the most renowned families of the Wizarding World.

Almost a bulletproof plan if it wasn’t for Minah’s unplanned change of heart.  

The details of how Minah Delacroix ended up head over heels for a childhood acquaintance, —turned best friend, turned the boy who broke her heart—, followed by a whirlwind of short-lived romances that came to a head when she started dating the guy of her —teenage— dreams are still up for debate.

But now there’s an invisible line separating the old Minah —the one who adored Julien with the intensity only young giddy love is capable of—, and the Minah who’s chased some type of thrill in the arms of several boys over the past few months. There’s a before and an after for Minah Delacroix and as terrible as it sounds it was the realization that not even her privileged status or the beauty everybody claims she possesses could guarantee her being loved back. It’s turned Minah’s world upside down.

Lee Sungjae has ruined her, or better said, his rejection and disregard for her feelings have.

But she doesn’t blame him. After all, everybody is bound to experience the struggle and trauma of unrequited, one-sided love at least once in their lifetime. And despite her It-Girl status and celebrated model-esque attractiveness Minah supposes she’s not any different.

It’s nearly been a year since Minah saw Sungjae the last time and in her quest to avoid the embarrassment and heartache, she’s basically cut everything —and everybody— remotely related to him of her life. She moved back to Paris, much to her aunts' joy and now she’s trapped in a relationship that initially looked like a magic formula to mend her heart, but now only makes her feel constricted and depressed.

The first days with Julien by her side were thrilling and beyond fulfilling. Minah felt elated, beside herself; nothing was important enough for her to get her head out of the clouds. Everything was almost perfect. The excitement of their respective families, the triumphant looks in their friends’ faces, even the relief with which they looked at her... It all satisfied Minah in a way she could hardly explain. But all those feelings were as short-lived as her romances with the son of the Hermé-Fontaine widow or that one Griffyndor guy from her Potions class, —whose name she never learned—, and now all bliss, delight —whatever it is Julien made her feel— has worn off and she’s just tired and guilty. Not to mention Julien himself looks off. He keeps trying but at moments like this, he barely seems interested in keeping her anymore.

Minah has started to believe all the time she has dedicated to whatever they have, would probably go to waste. She would be lying if she claimed she’s not disappointed, but most of the time it’s Sungjae and his gummy smile that occupy her thoughts, the way she still misses him although she hasn’t seen him in what seems to be forever, their long conversations about everything and nothing... and she simply doesn’t know how to deal with that.

Some nights, before going to bed and with the mental clarity she only seems to find when she’s about to drift off to Morpheus’ territory, Minah thinks that maybe this is all her fault, that she could’ve saved herself all the pain and moping with a simple visit to London or an even simpler phone call to Sungjae. Sometimes she dreams about going back to England and for very brief and fleeting moments everything makes horrible sense in the back of her mind. There’s only one way to solve things and it’s crystal clear that it starts by walking away from Julien. For good.

At times Minah is truly convinced she’s gathered the determination to let go of him…

But tonight is not one of those times so she slowly turns around, ready to walk into the enormous castle-like construction the Delacroix Manor is, thoughts racing through her mind and melting into the obscurity her brain has been harboring for weeks now.

“Goodnight” she mutters a barely audible farewell and begins to walk away, leaving a very appalled-looking Julien behind her.

“Minah” In one last impulse of remaining hope, Julien dares to call his girlfriend’s name. She turns on her heel before reaching the front door and eyes him expectantly —nervously, judging by the way she fidgets with the ends of the cashmere scarf wrapped over her shoulders. “I love you” he says simply.

Now it’s time for Minah to stand motionless and stare at Julien as he turns around and walks back to his car. It’s a sight that forces Minah to admit she has been dragging this too long simply because she refuses to face the reality of potentially losing Julien as a friend and the pain her own stupidity will cause them both. But it’s hard to see reason past the pain, and so Minah would rather avoid the very obvious solution than having to pronounce the words she dreads so much.

When she calls after him with the endearing “Jules” she’s used for as long as their memories allow them to remember, Julien is startled, but he still blinks in surprise when Minah strides toward him and wraps her arms around him pressing her cheek against the soft fabric of his turtleneck.

“Stay” she whispers like she might startle him if she speaks too loud.

Once Minah shuts the carved door of her room behind her, Julien wastes no time before pressing her against the wall, lips ghosting over her shoulders, hands sliding down the exposed skin of her back, where the Marchesa dress she’s wearing dips low enough to reveal her spine. Minah does her own part helping Julien off his blazer, her hands are soon pressed against the firm muscles of his chest as he moves to kiss her mouth, sealing their lips together in quite a harsh movement that misplaces Minah for a quick second.

She tries not to think too much about it, but it’s strange to realize that only minutes ago she thought about putting an end to this. As sad as it is to recognize, Minah becomes aware that in spite of her wishful yearning, the only solid and real thing in her life at the moment is Julien. But it’s still not enough.

Minah refused to accept it at first, but as Julien’s fingers grasp her thighs, her legs wrapped around him and their fronts pressed against each other, she finally understands that all the things that ever thrilled her have suddenly lost their appeal. Champagne tastes bitter in her mouth, trips to the French Riviera no longer interest her and even Julien with his tall stature, sharp features, and generally sweet smile has been deprived of his charm in her eyes.

The mindless fucks with no strings attached that she used to enjoy are not quite as thrilling and Minah’s body doesn’t respond eagerly to Julien’s touches anymore. When she clasps her hands around the back of his neck, Minah doesn’t feel the warmth of his body sending a frenzy through her nerves. For some reason, she hates it now and desperately wishes this would end soon. But Minah has been defining herself through her relationship with Julien for so long that it’s almost devastating to realize she might not love him as nearly as much as she thinks after all.

At this point, Minah should probably admit that she misses Sungjae desperately and that maybe she never really forgot the way her lips meshed against his although she’s been trying to replace the haywire in her chest he made her feel with a long list of boys that couldn’t even be compared to him.

By now, Minah should probably admit that It is Sungjae who owns the flutter of her heart.

Minah’s head spins with the reality of it all when Julien throws her on top of the jacquard silk covers of her bed. However, she doesn’t tell him to stop yet because she keeps trying to brainwash herself into believing she doesn’t want him to.

“Minah” Julien’s voice whispers right before his lips crash against her neck “I’ve missed you” he says peppering her jaw with kisses

The girl nods dismissively, short gasps escaping from her mouth as his hands move to cup her breast, something that would usually have Minah melting, but only makes her back press against the mattress as though she didn’t want him to touch her at all. She doesn’t want this anymore, she doesn’t enjoy the physical contact and Julien’s presence. Hell, she doesn’t even want to talk to him.  

Sungjae, she thinks in some insidious part of her brain, the one that only seems to be working when she’s trying her best not to think at all. ‘You want to talk to Sungjae’ a voice echoes in her mind, but Minah is determined to keep going, to stop her mind from straying to that goddamned night she wants to forget once for all.

Minah attempts to silence the voice inside her head by letting her hands travel from Julien’s back to the front of his chest and down towards his pants.

“I’ve missed you too” she simply says, pulling away from his lips to unbuckle his belt, fingers moving almost reluctantly. Julien doesn’t miss that last detail.

“Minah, just stop” he lets a frustrated sigh, pushing her hands away and moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

“What?” She asks looking positively confused, the mattress dipping as she takes a deep and weary breath. She’s too mentally exhausted to even push herself to sit up, so she closes her eyes and covers them with her hands, suspecting what’s to come.

“You don’t want this” Julien is shaking his head, frowning at Minah as though he is expecting her to deny it so he can finally snap at her.

But Minah doesn’t. She bites her tongue in an effort to stop herself from further hurting Julien. Though honestly at this point there’s no use denying it. Minah doesn’t even think she wants to deny it anymore. She doesn’t want any of this. That she knows for sure.

It’s quiet in the room for almost a minute that seems to stretch for hours when Minah finally gathers herself and slowly sits up.

“It’s not that-“ her words trail off into silence, suddenly beaming aware that she’s spent so much time running away from the truth and she can’t keep escaping anymore. In some sort of devious way there’s a sense of relief invading her chest.

“It is what it is, Min” Julien attempts to keep his tone unwavering when he calls her shortened name —a sign of affection between them— but ultimately fails “You’re not thinking about me, are you?” The question takes Minah by surprise. She stutters puzzled, but Julien doesn’t wait for an actual answer —which Minah is thankful for—, before going on “And it’s painfully obvious this is not working anymore. You might be here physically, but your mind is somewhere else” A sense of hurt flashes in his eyes as quiet settles between them once again.

It’s the sort of quiet that makes every thought in your head amplify ten times in volume, so Minah’s brain becomes a jumbled mess of thoughts that range from guilt to self-awareness. And then mental clarity kicks in.

“I’m sorry, Jules” she simply says, placing a hand over his that’s resting on the bed.

“So am I” he says, his Adam’s apple visibly moving up and down.

Minah wants to tell him there’s nothing to be sorry for. Sometimes people just fall out of love. One moment someone is the center of your world and the next day all those things that used to make your heart flutter make you feel nothing. That’s nothing to be sorry for.

“It’s the British guy, no?” Once again it’s Julien who dares to speak the words Minah is not brave enough to say. She doesn’t reply but to be honest she doesn’t need to because the way her expression morphed, has already given her away. There’s a granting silence and then Julien chuckles softly  “I wish I could be mad at you, but apparently I have no self-respect when it comes to you” his words could’ve easily come out as bitter, but he says them as he sneaks an arm around Minah’s shoulder and his hand caresses hers soothingly.

“I’m sorry” She repeats, convinced that the words are not enough, but she might as well try.

“It’s fine” Julien goes quiet for a moment and Minah rests her head on his shoulder. “But maybe you should back to London”

This is where she is supposed to say something, maybe deny that she is breaking up with him to go back to London or attempt to fix what’s left of their relationship, that lifelong friendship they both treasure so much. But she doesn’t say anything, she only shallows heavily as she catches a glimpse of herself in the golden mirror of her vanity.

There’s a pale, lifeless face with sunken cheeks and lipstick smeared looking back at her. Minah supposes this is how endings look like, but somehow this one is not as nearly as painful as she imagined them to be.  

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