#characters — queen genevieve

[cantstopthegifs]

Happy 20th Anniversary to Barbie as the Princess and the Pauper!

[wvexyz]

yes horse girl you can rock my world..,....,,,,

[blueberry-bubbles130]

Posting a WIP, for my Queen Genevieve redesign.

This image is actually outdated now, since I've changed things about the redesign.

I also don't know how long it will take for me to post the full redesign, since I haven't had a lot of spare time recently.

I wanted to redesign her, even though I actually think her actual design is fine enough. I just wanted to give her curlier hair, and redesign her dress, because I don't like it that much.

[amethystandemma]

Genie: love, do you know what today is?

Noah: of course! It’s our… um… anniversary?

Genie:

Genie: it’s your birthday you idiot

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Malicious Daughter Is Back! - 10

Character : Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: It's just a business marriage. Bucky thought it would be easy until he encountered the stepsister of his fiancée. She turned his world upside down.

The Malicious Daughter Is Back! Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || Support : Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Her heart pounded fast, the urge to hold back from throwing up overwhelming her. She hated you.

The smirk on your face is the same as the first time she met you.

Flashback Start

Back then, she didn't know she had an older sister. One day, Genevieve brought her to a big house. Her mother said, “Starting today, we will live with your father.”

Growing up, Victoria realized her family was different from her friends because her father never stayed a night in their small apartment.

She finally learned the truth when she stepped into her father's house. The grand entrance was so big, with a chandelier. She felt like a princess.

Before Victoria could imagine herself as a princess, she heard someone say in the lowest and coldest voice she had ever heard, “The mistress and her spawn. Welcome.”

Jonathan sighed, his expression weary. “Watch your words,” he said. He squatted down and rubbed Victoria's shoulder. “Don't be mad at her. Forgive your older sister.”

Victoria looked up at her father, then back at you. You stood there, arms crossed, eyes cold and piercing. You didn't move or offer a welcoming gesture. The disdain in your eyes was palpable.

Genevieve, trying to smooth things over, put on her best smile. “Victoria, this is your older sister. She’s just... surprised to see us.”

You scoffed, turning on your heel and walking away. “Surprised isn’t the word,” you muttered under your breath.

Victoria felt a lump in her throat. She glanced at her mother, who was trying to keep up appearances, but Victoria could see the strain in her eyes.

Jonathan stood, his hand still on Victoria's shoulder. “Let’s get you settled in,” he said, trying to sound cheerful, but the tension in the air was thick.

She always wanted an older sister. She takes another look at you.

You were on the top of the stairs, making you look down on her. Also, the way you bring yourself and the dress you wear. You look superior to her. 

This is the first time, she understand the feelings of jealousy. 

Since then, she live as an illegitimate child. The status bring nightmare especially because she move to another school. All the kids are humiliated her for being mistress. 

While you have the status as a leader. Everyone likes you. 

Except her. She hated you. 

Soon, she realized that only in school that you could you act like a queen where everyone likes you. 

Compared to home, you pick a fight with everyone. Even Jonathan ignores you.

She thought, what if you don't have any more friends? Money? Will you still be able to act tough?

This is the starting point when Victoria and Genevieve work together to bring you down. Genevieve will do anything to make her daughter win. Because she gives the name Victoria from Victory. 

Genevieve knew she could became the Madam of Sinclair because of Victoria. Her daughter is the golden ticket. 

Their plan was successful for a while. You got kicked out of the house and left with nothing. 

But now, the situation has changed. You're back in your game. 

Flashback End

Victoria's hatred for you only grew from that moment. Seeing you in her office, acting as if you owned the place, brought all those memories back with a rush of bitterness.

She had to accept the fact that she couldn’t underestimate you anymore. You were able to buy 40% of Velari’s shares in such a quick step.

It was all because of the influential person supporting you.

Bucky.

She couldn't beat him. Is this the day she's going to lose?

You smirked at her while she was at a loss for words. She turned around and walked out of her office, her steps heavy with frustration.

As she stepped into the hallway, she saw her mother surrounded by the other designers and tailors.

“Mom?” Victoria's voice was strained.

Genevieve immediately embraced her. “It's okay. Nobody here expected this. We're going to rally.”

By ‘we,’ Genevieve meant the designers and tailors of Velari. She had done a great job of making them mad at you, spreading false information, and stirring up resentment.

Victoria never thought her mother could move so quickly. She felt a wave of relief wash over her.

Genevieve looked at the gathered crowd with a determined expression. “We won’t let her take what’s ours,” she declared, her voice strong.

The designers and tailors nodded in agreement, their faces showing varying anger and determination. Victoria stood straighter, feeling a renewed sense of purpose.

👗👗👗👗

While everyone chattered outside, you were focused on examining the design sketches.

Even though you hadn’t been a part of Velari since both women took charge, you still kept up with what was happening in the company.

Flipping through the papers for the upcoming season, it became clear that this was not the Velari you once knew.

You stepped out of the office and were immediately faced with a crowd. They were staring at you, arms crossed, as if ready for a confrontation. Genevieve and Victoria stood behind them, watching the scene unfold.

You asked the employees, “Can I help you?”

“We don’t want to work if our leader, Victoria, is replaced by you,” one of the designers spoke up, their voice filled with defiance.

“That’s right. Someone with no background in fashion design can’t be here,” another designer added, their tone dismissive.

“We'll walk out if Victoria gets replaced,” a third designer declared, moving towards the exit.

They expected their threats to make you back down.

But instead, you replied calmly, “Sure. For anyone who walks out, I want your resignation letter today.”

Your words hung in the air, stunning the crowd into silence. The designers hesitated, exchanging nervous glances. They hadn't expected you to call their bluff so confidently. Even Victoria and Genevieve didn’t expect you to fire all the employees.

“You can’t do that!” one of the designers yelled.

“Without them, no one could make the dresses of Velari,” Victoria added, making the employees, who were already afraid, nod their heads in agreement.

You shook your head and held up the sketch designs. “There’s no more Velari. It’s all gone. These designs said it.” Then, you threw the sketches to the floor.

“Who do you think you are?” someone yelled angrily.

You sighed, “Bitch. I’m the rightful owner of this place.”

Everyone was stunned when you cursed.

“If you knew the true history of Velari, not the edited version, you’d know this fashion line was created by Cassandra and Ophelia. They’re my grandmother and my mother,” you said sternly, your gaze sweeping over the room.

“And now, with the 40% share that I own, I have the freedom to do whatever I want.” You walked slowly, looking at each employee.

Then you continued, “To be honest, you made my work easier. I want to turn this place around 100%.” If you needed to be the bad guy, so be it because you knew all of them were loyal to your stepmom and stepsister.

Genevieve and Victoria went pale when they heard that.

You could see the fear and uncertainty in their eyes. The employees, who had initially been defiant, now looked unsure. Some exchanged nervous glances, while others stared at the floor.

Genevieve’s composure cracked, and she stepped forward, her voice trembling slightly. “You can’t just change everything. Velari has a reputation, a legacy.”

You met her gaze with a steely determination. “And that legacy was built by my grandma and my mom. It’s time to return to the roots and honor the original vision.”

Victoria, usually so confident, now seemed small and shaken. “You’ll ruin everything we’ve built,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

You shook your head. “No, I’m going to save it. I’m going to restore Velari to what it was meant to be.”

“Good luck finding a new creative director,” another designer sneered.

Suddenly, someone joined in, “She doesn’t have to worry about that.”

You turned around, surprised, and saw a woman who felt so familiar to you. “Andrea,” you said, your expression softening as you recognized her. She was one of the earliest designers who worked alongside your mother and grandmother.

It had been years since you last saw her, and now she had grey hair. Andrea crossed her arms and stood beside you. “It’s time for a change,” she said firmly.

You smiled, feeling a surge of hope and determination. With the support of this senior designer, you could revive this fashion line. You placed your hand on Andrea’s shoulder, and both of you walked back into the office together.

As you closed the door behind you, the murmuring outside came to a halt. The employees ran to Genevieve and Victoria, panic in their eyes. “What’s going to happen to us?” one of them asked urgently.

Both women looked just as uncertain. “The HR will inform you as soon as possible,” Victoria said, her voice shaky as she turned and walked away.

Genevieve followed, her usual composure shattered. The remaining employees were confused and anxious, realizing that the power dynamics had shifted dramatically.

👗👗👗👗👗

When Victoria walked out of the building and headed to her car, she saw Bucky getting out of his.

She approached him, “Is this all your doing?”

Bucky ignored her and kept walking, his indifference stinging her deeply. His concern for you over her was palpable. She grabbed his hand, desperate. “We need to talk.”

Bucky pushed her away, his eyes wide with panic. He left her standing there, alone and full of questions.

Why did Bucky react so strongly to her touch? She remembered how he never liked being touched by her. She thought of a friend who acted similarly because they were using drugs.

Could Bucky be using drugs?

Determined to find out, she grabbed her phone and texted someone who might have information on Bucky. Even a small detail could be enough to slander his name.

Late that night, her phone buzzed with a message. After the day’s humiliation, she finally had some good news. She called Genevieve, excitement in her voice. “I’ve got something to silence her.”

She clenched her phone tightly, a sinister smile spreading across her face. Finally, she had a weapon to use against you.

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Author Note: Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.

Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

[iguana-eyanna]

To Miss Laurant... Pt. 1

Pairing: Lord Alfred Debling x Reader

Summary: What happens when two souls who had not found love find it within each other?

a/n: okay a bit late on watching bridgerton (don't come at me please) but I feel like Debling is a well written character and would love to see him more so mwUAH! I also wanted to give the reader a name so the last name is Laurant.

"There, one of my greatest works!" Madame Delacroix said as she finished the hem of your dress.

You admire the beading by your sleeves and how it flows by the end of your gown, which was also adorned by a cape.

"It's just us, Genevieve. You can lose the accent" You said, looking back at your childhood friend.

"Oi. I have to keep appearances, you'll never know who'd walk in those doors." She said in her regular voice. You both laugh as if you two haven't seen each other since your family moved to the Americas. You then became a traveling performer, singing for the largest of crowds and now back home to sing for the biggest event.

"I still can't believe you're back home, and performing for the queen no less. Are you nervous?" She asks.

You press your hand on your stomach, feeling the butterflies.

"Very. I never sang for royalty before. I thank Lady Danbury for opening her home to me for my stay and offering counsel on how to approach her majesty."

"Well, the bachelor's will swoon by your talent, wit, and beauty for tonight." Madame Delacroix, she said, kneeling by the end of your dress to fix a hem.

"I'm afraid that's where you lose me Gen. I faced too many heartbreak in my life, sometimes I don't believe in the words I am singing."

Genevieve tsks at you and rises up, placing her hands by your shoulders.

"You shan't forsaken your passion for love. Who knows, maybe you shall meet a certain suitor tonight."

"Perhaps..." You said, looking back at the mirror, unsure that you believe in the feeling.

+

"My Lord, welcome back home." an older man said, offering his assistance to Lord Debling.

"Only temporary Buford, I do wish things do recover." Lord Debling replied, as he looks down at his cane.

Upon his mission to save a rare mammal during an unforgiving snowstorm, Lord Debling lost his footing on a weak stone by the side of a cliff and fell 20 feet down. It was remarkable that he survived the fall, but he broke his leg and he had scars around his face and torso from the turbulent fall.

His crew helped him find the nearest physician and was told he must return home to recover for the sake of his health. With much dismay, he returned back to Mayfair, hoping he could leave to complete his mission.

"Yes sir, a speedy recovery you shall have." Buford replied as he helped the Lord get into his carriage.

They rode off to the estate, where Lord Debling looks outward to the town. He accidentally made eye contact with a few townspeople and they began to whisper. The Lord whipped the small curtain closed and inhaled, catching his breath.

"Your return has spread quickly here, they've said you've cheated death." Buford said with caution.

"What I've cheated on was my mission. If I'm not back by the end of this season, the creatures would not survive the rest of the winter." Lord Debling said.

"Of course sir, my apologies. If you like, I can provide on the latest news since your last visit."

"I suppose that wouldn't hurt."

"Well, the queen is having a ball at the palace. You did also receive an invitation."

"I do not wish to entertain anyone for the matter, Buford." the tired Lord replies.

"If I may speak freely, you have not been seen in ages, my Lord. I believe some live entertainment shall lift your spirits momentarily."

The Lord ponders for a moment.

"Well, I guess I shall use my night wisely. Thank you for your counsel, Buford. Live entertainment you said?"

"Yes, a singer. She's an accomplished musician who's toured around the Americas, Asia, and Europe. I have her flyer here." Buford offered a folded paper to the Lord.

Alfred Danbury looks fondly, reading out loud your last name.

"Laurant?"

"Are you familiar with her?" Buford asks.

Lord Debling shakes his head no as he folds back the paper.

"No, I'm afraid not." He replied as opens back the window, looking outward.

As the night arrived, Lord Debling felt like he was out of practice around the high society. People often shared condolescences on his accident and women would near him, they're faces would be etched with pity.

He wanted to crawl out of his skin and be in the confinement of his home. It was like the walls of the room was closing in and rushed out as fast as he could. He slowly took off his coat and vest, leaving on his white button shirt.

He managed to get by the gardens and sat down, hissing as the ache in his leg was acting up. He drops his clothes and cane to the side and tends his knee, closing his eyes.

"Are you alright?" a soft spoken voice is heard.

He opens his eyes and faces you, as you sat in your plain dress by the quiet fountain that were etched with baby angels.

"I wish I could stop hearing that." He grumbles to himself.

"I'm sorry for asking." You said, huffing as you turned away.

Lord Debling felt horrible as he straightens up as best he could.

"Forgive my manners, all night I've been consoled and pitied for. I do not wish to feel like a wounded creature." He says, showing his cane.

You turn your head towards him again. You bow your head, understanding.

"It's alright, my apologies for striking a sour chord."

Lord Debling couldn't help but laugh and cracked a smile, a manner he has not done since his accident. He offers you a seat by him and you obliged.

"What is a maiden as yourself outside for?" He asks.

You struggle to find the right words and looked at him with kind eyes.

"This is my first ball, I was afraid I'd make a fool of myself."

"It's impossible, I do not know you well but you carry yourself with such poise." Lord Debling says.

You couldn't help chuckle, not believing his words.

"We must not let fear get to us tonight. Life is too short to squabble in the mist of doubt."

Lord Debling was beguiled of your wisdom.

"Well said, miss..." he trailed on, not getting your name.

You were about to reply till the bell tower rang.

"Oh no, I'm late!" You said, grabbing your dress and quickly running off.

"But wait, I don't know your name!" Lord Debling said, getting up.

You turned towards him, screaming out your name.

"What is yours so I may remember?"

He was about to say his title, but he stopped. You seemed so free from high society, he didn't know who you were or what your ranking was. He just saw you for, well you.

"Alfred!" He yelled back.

"We shall meet again, Alfred." You said, before running off.

Lord Debling placed his hand on his heart, feeling it race like gazelles.

He had kept his heart from ever loving something more than protecting the innocence of wildlife, and yet, you ran away and he longed for your presence once more.

He placed his outer garments, grabbed his cane and walked with purpose back at the ball, trying to find you in the sea of people. Soon, the floor cleared and an announcer walked on the platform.

"Our dearest guests, we have brought you a special talent for tonight. As she prepares to travel to the pacific this summer, she has graced us with her voice for this season. I present to you, Miss Laurant!"

Everyone cheered and a figure slowly walked onto the platform, with an almost glowing dress that illuminated more by the lights. She looked outward to the crowd, afraid with those memorizing eyes.

That's when Lord Debling knew it was you.

You looked upward to the queen, as she gave you grim look of disappointment. You looked away and tried to find peace in your stirring mind. That's when you made eye contact with a familiar face.

Alfred.

He shook his head to you, almost indicating that you had enough courage to go on.

You straighten upward and faced the orchestra by the side and you began to sing.

Lord Debling stood like a statue. Your voice captivated his ears like a songbird, and he was too afraid to move in fear you would stop.

You didn't leave your gaze on Alfred, as he was your anchor through the storm that filled your head with dread. For once in your life, you begun to understand the words you've sung about love. Something ignited you, and it was proven as there was a roar of applause that was for your performance.

You look back at the queen and she nodded in approval, smiling contently. You bow in her presence and left the platform.

The orchestra resumed the delightful tune of dance as you were congratulated by the court. Lady Danbury walked up to you, beaming with pride.

"My dear, I understood you've sung for a living but I underestimated that voice. Do not let me doubt you again." She says lively.

"Oh, you're too kind, Lady Danbury. It is you I have to share gratitude for. Thank you for having me into your home."

"Anytime, my dear. I also bring good news, her majesty is requesting a private audience with you during your stay here."

Your mouth dropped into an 'O' and you hugged Lady Danbury, then a split second letting go as you straighten yourself.

"Apologies, but this news has elated my mood of late. Thank you." You said, as Lady Danbury just gave you a beaming smile.

She was about to say something until something caught her eye. "It seems you have made an impression to a particular someone."

You don't understand what she's saying until you see Alfred, now dressed formally. He walks towards you two and bows his head.

"Lady Danbury, it's a pleasure to see you tonight. Miss Laurant, I did not expect you were tonight's performance."

"You two know each other?" Lady Danbury asks.

"Br-Briefly. We exchanged words by the garden." You said, confused as you thought Alfred was a footman of sort, but dressed similar to those in the court.

"I was blown away by your performance tonight, Miss Laurant. Perhaps when I am in the best of health, I can escort you to the dance floor sometime."

"Lord Debling, I thought you never dance at balls." Lady Danbury teases making him chuckle.

"Lord?" You ask, your eyes wide.

"I am sorry if I did not share my title at the time-" Lord Debling tried to explain but you took a step back.

"Lady Danbury, I must rest before meeting her majesty this week. Thank you both for your kind words, but I must go." You bowed before you left them in confusion.

"Did I offend her honor? I did not know my title would have her leave." Lord Debling asks, feeling as if he'd hurt you.

Lady Danbury could see his sincere features and tried consoling him.

"It is not you, my Lord. Before Miss Laurant came back to London, she has told me she has had a troubled past. It appears you may have reminded her of something that she can't escape."

Lord Debling could only look at the direction where you left, wondering if you were alright.

Soon, you hailed a carriage and traveled to Lady Danbury's residence. You sank by the wall and began to cry, holding yourself for some comfort.

You thought Alfred was like you, free from title and expectations. You thought that maybe, you could love him.

But you can't give your heart to a Lord,

not again.

To be continued...

[lsleofthelost]

shades of being lovable

[read on AO3]

T | 5.2k | Chapter 1/3 | Mal/Evie | angst, AU - they don’t leave the Isle, introspection, aged-up characters

Content warning for implied/reference child abuse, off-screen animal death

Summary: It’s the most open secret on the Isle: Evil Queen’s brat is in love with Maleficent’s spawn.

It is whispered behind her back when Grimhilde leaves the salon, it is laughed about roaringly in pubs, and it is scribbled on the desks in the back of Dragon Hall classrooms. Grimhilde loves to pretend that the whole Isle doesn’t know because Genevieve’s … thing is more humiliating than any of her other failures. More humiliating than being caught, more humiliating than failing to kill Snow White, more humiliating even than not being as beautiful anymore. But everyone knows it, everyone knows Genevieve is in this gooey, soft, crippling kind of love.

Including Mal.

Mal swears that knowing doesn’t affect her. She is still the leader of the most powerful gang on the whole Isle. She takes what she wants and breaks what she can’t take. She knows how to keep distance between herself and her underlings. Mal is civil and talks to Evie with enough courtesy that makes it clear that they are not friends and that Mal’s words are orders to be followed, not friendly suggestions.

Sometimes, when Mal barks a command with too much force, too much venom, she notices that Jay and Carlos share a glance. It’s probably worry, it may even be sadness, Mal can never truly tell. The glances weigh on her, make her feel something a villain never should because guilt has never gotten anyone far. She shakes these emotions out of her head, what kind of poisoner wouldn’t be able to take some venom?

(She lies. It affects her. Some days she can not bear to look at Evie. She tells herself it’s disgust. In more vulnerable moments, she tells herself it’s not knowing what to do with these misplaced feelings Evie has.

In the past, whenever some poor unfortunate soul would try to make things romantic between them, it was either a weak attempt at manipulation or inappropriate worship. First never worked because Mal doesn’t need love, never has and never will, so the promise of it was unappealing. The second was more pitiful. These people had an image of Maleficent the Second, the new Mistress of Darkness in their heads that would shatter if they got too close. She knows that once they discover who she really is, once they look into her heart, they would find nothing to love there. By her mother’s design, Mal is impossible to love.)

Feelings aren’t a thing they talk about on the Isle. Any feelings, but especially those. There are few moments for tender-heartedness, deep under the velvet cover of night, where no one can overhear, but Mal is above that. She is the destruction of the free world, there are more important things she can focus on.

So, Mal knows, but she never does anything about it. She doesn’t say anything and neither does Evie and it allows things to feel almost normal. Up until Evie gets too flustered or too greedy or tries to be too close to her and Mal gets images of blood-red smiles and yearning eyes burned into her eyelids.

***

Now that her gang is indisputably on top, Mal has a lot of free time. It’s confusing. She has spent her entire life fighting, nineteen long years a constant battle. It would be a disgusting lie to say that her life is peaceful now (Mal will never know peace, it’s preordained, she is revenge personified) but she finds herself with nothing to do for a few hours every two weeks or so.

‘Fight or die’ is the law of the Isle but what is she to do when there is no fight?

All the borders are checked, pirates are staying within their own territory for once, even the Huns are pacified under a new agreement, her own are fed and fine. Mal gets too wired to sleep and too burnt out to draw, so she turns her eyes up.

She likes getting as close to the barrier as she can, without being stuck wrestling the crowd near the bridge. Or trying the sharp teeth of the sea. She scales the side of the only church on the Isle (it’s always empty, save for the old priest and his quiet daughter) and climbs to the very top of the central spire. Perched there, she can reach up and touch the shimmering air of the barrier. Being this close to active magic is calming in a way she can’t describe.

Sometimes, Mal notices the priest’s daughter peeking up through an open window. She’s tempted, then, to wave at her, to invite someone else to bathe in the warmth of magic. But every time she’s about to open her mouth, a gravelly voice yells to do some chore or the other and the girl disappears inside with a squeak.

***

Evie fell in love hard and fast.

Her very first day out of banishment, the day after her sixteenth birthday, she caught Mal’s attention. She didn’t know yet that it was a bad thing, fascinated still with life in relative freedom.

Mal had been cruel then, she knows. She’d never hide it, there was nothing to be ashamed of. Fight or die is the only law of the Isle. Genevieve was highly possible competition, bright and dazzling, so Mal did the pragmatic thing and enacted a scheme.

The plan was simple, she’d even thought it elegant at the time: play nice with Evie, invite her to the full moon howler at de Vil’s place and when Blueberry makes herself the centre of attention, as she certainly will, drop a bucket of animal blood on her. She toyed with the idea of locking her in that bear trap of a closet Cruella has, but it would be too quiet, too easy to miss over the chaos of the howler. She needed a signal, something that let not only Evie but the rest of them remember who the top dog around here was.

Something to knock her down before she could attempt to stand up.

At least that’s what it was supposed to go like. In no world did Mal imagine that instead of running out covered in tears and blood, Evie would activate her magic. The shield was weak and peppered with holes, but still, the majority of the blood ended up on the floor around Blueberry.

Mal grabbed her arm then and dragged her outside past the crowd. People made way for the pair, sure that she was going to beat Evie up. Hell, even Mal was sure of it.

Yet, when they got to the rickety porch and Mal finally turned face to face with Evie, for some reason, she couldn’t find it in herself to scream and call her names. Looking at her bright eyes, the colour of them indescribably red in the fiery light of Hell Hall, at the drops of blood dotting her face and hair, slowly running down, at the hopeful smile stretching her violet lips, Mal could not bring herself to say what she intended to.

Magic, or the sad grains of it that could be accessed under the barrier, was for the strong. Like Mal herself with her fire.

So instead, she found herself asking how reliable Evie’s hold on magic was. She told Mal about how this was the first time her magic got a physical form, about how she brews potions and poisons, about how even the most potent ones never made her sick.

Mal ordered her to join her gang. Evie’s eyes snapped up then, trembling and wet, so full of unfiltered hope and affection and stared at her. Her whole body leaned in and slackened when she accepted. Something about the brightness of her eyes or the happiness of her voice in that moment terrified Mal into almost taking a step back.

***

It is baffling, sometimes, how much love Genevieve has in her heart.

The fountain of it seems endless, she doesn’t need to ration it into little portions to be consumed. Evie loves sewing and designing, she loves the kids under their protection, and especially that giggly Tremaine girl, she loves how giddy with fear everyone gets when she brings her apple pie (that she made because she loves their crew). She loves and loves and loves.

She even loves this stupid little rabbit.

Mal and she were in the Dark Forest, foraging for ingredients and Evie kneeled by a big oak tree to cut off some mushrooms when she found it. It’s a pitiful thing, small and weak, two more from its litter lying on either side of it with their throats ripped out.

“It’s going to die.” Mal’s voice is cold and too loud in the darkness of the forest. Evie’s eyes are still on the carcasses and all she does is give a tiny nod.

In retrospect, it was probably a twitch at Mal’s tone.

When Mal unsheathes her dagger light must catch on it because, in a second, Evie turns around to face her.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to kill it.” Like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Because it is the most obvious thing in the world. The weak can not fight. They do not survive.

Immediately, Evie scoops up the tiny thing and brings it close to her chest. She’s shielding it.

“What? No!”

“It’s going to die anyways!” Mal angles her dagger toward where the rabbit must be. “Give it to me!”

It makes Evie turn her body away from her, shielding the animal even more.

“No!” Her eyes are scorching when they meet Mal’s.

This defiance makes her recoil physically. How dare she? Over some stupid animal? Mal’s free hand shoots out to grab Evie’s shoulder and shake her. “Let me kill it!”

“No! You can’t!” Her eyes stay as steely as before, even as they begin to water. “You can't!” Even as her voice begins to shake.

Mal brings her dagger even closer. So close, that she can see her own reflection in the cold metal of the blade.

“Why the hell not, Blueberry?”

“I love it, you can’t kill it! You can’t! It’s alive! I love it!”

***

Usually, Mal bites her tongue when Maleficent pushes lessons on her, letting her mother rant, and it’s no different today, even though she is so frustrated, so tired. She doesn’t even know what set her mother off this time, but she doesn’t bother to speak up. Mal can feel her inner temperature go underworld low and dragon fire high, back and forth, all day, she can feel her skull splitting where her horns should be, she can feel her back muscles moving to accommodate for wings that can’t be sprouted, magic produced in her body without an exit, stuck inside her. She feels like half a corpse and half a god.

“Furthermore, Mal, you must not dismiss my advice. I am not saying this out of ill will, I only do this due to your promising nature. I see you have the capability to own this world, to lead the conquering, and to take over after I rule. You are Maleficent Morgana the Second, do you understand?”

It’s funny. She doesn't even have her own name, her mother never gave her one. She made her fight for each letter tooth and nail but the prize is becoming her mother. All she sees when she looks at her daughter is a twisted reflection of herself, a second chance at achieving promised greatness.

Maleficent takes a sip of her coffee, and though Mal knows it is horribly bitter, she does it calmly. A mirthless smile stretches her thin lips.

“I was like you when I was your age. Ignored my mother’s wisdom, thinking I was oh so mature. But the world is cruel and we must be too. We fight or we die. It forced me to cast my heart aside, practically ripped it out of me, and when I started using my head, I finally started yielding results. I only wish to protect you, like I now realise my mother was trying to protect me way back then. You are my daughter, be better than me, cast emotions aside now, and don’t let them cloud your judgement. I truly believe you will be the deliverance of our preordained fate.”

She takes another sip of her coffee and lowers it on the table in a harsh movement. Ceramic hits wood with a boom.

It’s only the training that stops Mal from flinching at the resonance. Her hearing fluctuates between true faery abilities and the constricting human level, and all the sounds are grating her ears. Not that she hasn’t heard this speech many times before. Mal has been a promising child since she was born. She didn’t do anything to deserve it, she didn’t make any vows, her lips did not form words binding her to divine wickedness. No, her mother, and her mother, and hers, they gave the old prophecy of owning the world to her like an inheritance.

“Yes, yes, you will be our deliverance.”

With a content sigh, Maleficent nods once more and leans back into her armchair.

It is as clear a dismissal as she will get, so Mal pulls herself up, feels her bones ready to snap under the weight, and with a small bow turns away from the coffee table. It takes all her willpower to keep her composure. Near the doors, she chances a pause to gather herself once again, and glances at her mother.

She looks frightening. Not like when she would stand over Mal’s barely conscious body after leaving a pattern of black and blue all over, no. Not like when she would suggest plans that would put Jay in grave danger just to watch Mal’s reaction either. No, this is an ultimately frightening sight.

She looks pathetic. Imprisonment has not been kind to any of them but the inaccessibility of magic has hit the inherently magical beings the harshest. To Mal, her mother looks like she might collapse, fade out on here, never get out of that armchair.

That is the fundamental reason she lets her mother lecture her. She fears her, of course, but she patronises her more now. Mal is already a shining example of never letting her emotions cloud her judgement in battle. She stopped herself before she could grow attached. Built walls even between herself and her General, retreated away from his warmth when he got too close.

So she shrinks, hides more and more of herself in order to not appear threatening to Maleficent. It only makes Mal despise her more and in turn, despise herself.

One day, she promises herself as the flash of pain fades and she closes the doors behind herself. One day she will take a butcher’s knife and cut this umbilical cord.

***

Next Thursday, Mal finds Evie crying in one of the smaller rooms of their lair.

It’s obvious she’s crying, even if she’s turned away from the door, cooped up in a dark corner. Her whole body is shaking silently, tiny little movements arrhythmic, like she’s fighting the tears.

Mal turns away. She will ignore this moment of foolish vulnerability, maybe send Carlos or Dizzy this way instead. They can be gentle. Mal appreciates kindness only because it shows that their evil has intent, that they inflict hurt on purpose. Gentleness is inside their bones. Hers are hollow.

It is at that moment, when Mal has made up her mind, that Evie notices her.

She always seems to notice Mal.

Their eyes lock. Mal feels glued to the spot. Evie’s eyes sparkle softly in the dim light, her mascara is running down her face in black and blue streaks, and her lipstick is smudged and half bitten off in the middle. She looks magnetic. Evie is beautiful, not despite her harried state, not because of it, just beautiful. Always so beautiful.

“I’m sorry, I-” Evie’s breath stutters as she gulps more air in, “I thought no one would be here.” She looks somewhere behind Mal, not like she’s trying to gauge if there are people behind her, but like she can’t bear to look at her any longer. “You ca- should go. I’m- I’ll be fine.”

“Don’t say sorry.” Mal comes in and closes the door behind her. It plunges the tiny room into more solid darkness. “It’s weak.” She steps a little closer to Evie.

Evie hastily wipes her face and shakes her head a little. “Yes, of course.” She sniffles. It is such a pitiful sound, brittle and barely controlled, Mal wants it to stop. “Really, Mal, you, you don’t need to stay, can, you can go.”

It is the most erratic Evie’s speech has ever been. Usually, her words are so measured, it’s weird to hear her stutter. Mal kneels beside her on the dusty floor. There is not much space in the room, it feels stifling, being so close to Evie. She wants to move back, to come closer, to storm out, to crush her in a hug. She settles for leaning back on the balls of her feet and digging her nails into the palms of her hands.

“Well, I’m here.” What would Carlos do? Shit, what would one of those soft as shit Auradon kids say? Because even though Genevieve is one of the most feared people on the Isle, even though she can dig her nails in wounds just to listen to the screams, she requires this tenderness.

“So tell me what bullshit made you… uh-”

“Cry like a baby?” Evie says with a bitter smile.

Mal just hums. That is exactly what she was thinking but it seemed too harsh to say right then. Mal wouldn’t kick one of her own while they are lying down.

Another stuttering breath. Genevieve keeps shaking, all those emotions too much for her tiny body. She is taller than Mal, but like this, she looks so small and bursting at the seams with everything.

“Remember last week? We found that baby rabbit?” Her voice is still so soft. “I had to kill it.” More tears gather in the corners of her eyes. They twinkle in the darkness like stars in the sky. “I- My mother, she, ah- I guess she wanted a new fur collar.” With a put upon shrug, she continues: “It’s not even the worst part.” Mal watches her swallow heavily, like it pains her to do so, like she is swallowing glass. “We, ah, we can’t afford to be wasteful here. And, you know, that’s fine... Well, it’s not fine, Auradon makes us do this and we haven’t even done anything but be born! And they can definitely afford to get normal food and clothing and water for us. I mean, have you seen the new castle the Beast’s family is building? ‘Secondary summer palace’, what bullshit!”

“Princess, I appreciate anger for those Auradon fuckers as much as the next person but get to the fucking point.” Her tone is always too cold, fuck. Now Evie will think she’s angry at her. Maybe she is, a little. For making her feel so responsible for her sadness.

“Sorry,” she catches herself too late, “Mother made me cook him.”

Mal is silent at that, and Evie tries to fill the silence.

“And, I knew he was going to die. You were right. He was too weak to survive, he couldn’t fight, but, gods above, I never- I didn’t think she’d make me butcher him.” Her voice dissolves into nothingness at the end.

“You really were in love with that thing, huh?”

Evie freezes up at that, so still, she might be made of marble. She shakes her head after a moment. “I loved it, I was not- I was not in love with it.” Her gaze is trained on the toes of her boots, on the tiny stubborn dot of blood that hasn't washed out. “That’s different.”

And that, that is the final nail in her coffin. Fuck! Mal already doesn’t know what to say, what do you say to a person who is crying? There are no memories in her head to use as an example. The last time she cried, her mother had dangled her light body out of a balcony, telling her not to shame the legacy with something as weak and as human as tears. That did make her stop crying but that is not what Mal is going for with Evie. And she was so stupid to bring up love.

“You should’ve let me kill it that day.”

“Maybe.” She doesn’t mean it. Evie would not have let her do it.

“You shouldn’t cry so much over it.”

“I’ll be fine. You- you don’t need to worry about me so much.” She smiles a little, the waterworks finally coming to a stop. It makes Mal feel disgustingly soft, like a rotten apple.

“I wasn’t worried. But you’re on my team so it’s my responsibility or whatever.”

“Still.” There’s a tiny smile on Evie’s ruined face.

And in that darkness, surrounded by specks of dust and looking at black and blue tear tracks and smudged lipstick, Mal thinks that maybe it’s not such a horrible thing to be loved by Evie. She loves so much so easily, it can’t be a terribly huge deal to be a part of the long list.

***

No matter how much her mother snarls in distaste, Mal prefers that her gang is less rigid and the atmosphere is more companionable when they are together. Sometimes, though, when they are being particularly annoying, Mal wonders if her mother is right.

Diego de Vil and his band of musical misfits really don’t work hard enough to afford all the distraction and halfway-manic laughter they cause. Fucking freeloaders. Honestly, and she has told them this more than once, they are only here as Carlos’s kin and because their music sets really bring the howlers to the next level.

They’re always jamming or giggling in “their” nook of the lair. That, or harassing the other occupiers of the loft.

They make fun of Dizzy for following Evie around everywhere, like a loyal duckling. When Evie furrows her brows and tells them to cut it out, they snicker behind their hands and Ivy starts singing the silly song they wrote just for Dizzy. They “are just kidding, really, Dizzy, you are our dark magician girl”, after all.

They make fun of Freddie, whenever she decides to come around. Yell something about how matted her hair is, and the twins pop out their perfect clouds of signature de Vil ashen hair to mock her. She just flips them off because they all know that right after she finishes her dealings with Mal, she’s going to be slithering in the nook and plopping herself on a pillow between Maria de Vil’s feet, letting her work her own kind of magic.

Even Mal is not immune. They make fun of her “brooding face”. They make fun of her short stature. They find a lot to laugh about, but they never push too much, and Mal can’t help but think that it’s nice. To be in on a joke.

(She remembers running with Maddy. It’s silly now but then it felt like a sign that they both had purple hair. It seemed so concrete when she was ten-eleven. And Maddy would run around to make fun of her behind her back, would sabotage Mal on purpose, feed her wrong information just to watch her trip up. She’d punch her in the shoulder and say: “Come on, it was just a joke!” and cackle mean-spiritedly.

Maddy never knew the limit. Maddy bleaches her hair obsessively.)

The band joke about a lot of things, and notice every embarrassing reaction, which is why Mal half-expects howling laughter when Evie turns beet red after Mal off-handedly says “Attagirl” during a sparring session. They don’t laugh when Evie rushes to bring Mal some kind of special electro-something water after training. They don’t laugh when Evie asks if she can “move up from her regular loft room? Somewhere closer to you? Not- not in that way, just that rooms get bigger closer to the top and I need space for my brewing!”

They don’t laugh when Evie blanches at the sight of Mal’s mangled fingers after a nasty fight. They don’t laugh when she pulls out some salve and bandages from her thigh holster when she tapes them together ever so carefully and something close to tears shines in her eyes.

They never laugh at her. Mal wishes she didn't know why.

***

Mal’s gang may be far less rigid than Maleficent’s armies used to be but if anyone dared to think that Mal was not a demanding leader or, gods forbid, that Mal was soft, they would be proven wrong fairly quickly.

Perfection is expected, achieving more than asked for is expected, and falling short is punished. The closer you are to Mal, the harsher you get burned by her hellfire rage.

She’s yelling about the botched chloroform, asking Evie how she can be so stupid and incompetent, how dare she not perform her role in the gang, and give her one valid reason she shouldn’t send Evie back into banishment right this moment! And maybe Mal is being harsher than usual but then Evie’s lip stops trembling and her poisonous blood is boiling with anger and she is screaming right back at Mal. Saying that she is “cold-blooded, cruel, a fucking tyrant!”

Mal doesn’t stop herself when she swings a punch.

It doesn’t land properly. Evie moves away and Mal ends up hitting her shoulder, Evie’s hands on her wrist and elbow, and a moment later Mal is on the cement floor, her breath knocked out, with Evie hovering over her. She’s crying. Her mascara is running and her eyes shine brightly and Mal’s heart stops.

It’s like a dam has been broken. Evie tries to calm herself but all her inhales are shaky and all her exhales are ragged, she can’t stop the hot tears from rolling down her cheeks and landing on Mal’s face and neck. She’s still uselessly pounding her fists on Mal’s chest, so she catches the witch’s wrists and brings them down.

Mal doesn’t want to dislodge her even if her instincts tell her that this is how you get your throat slit. Evie is still shaking on top of her. Mal doesn’t know what to say and she can’t bear to look at her. She turns her head to the side. Evie’s wrists are burning against her underworld cold hands.

They stay like that for however long it takes for Evie to calm herself. Far too fast for how hard she was sobbing earlier, probably.

“Why do you do that?” Evie’s voice is hoarse and small but still full of fury.

She feels like she’s about to fall through the floor.

But Mal is still on the floor and she looks at the place where the wall meets the floor and she realises it wasn’t painted very well. “I-” her throat is swollen, “I have to. I need perfection.”

“Don’t be so cruel to me,” Evie exhales unsteadily, “you know, you know that I, you know I-”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I wish it counted for something.”

Mal finally turns to look at her. The blue mascara stains on her face look like bruises.

***

Mal climbs the church tower that night.

Her bones creak, weary and tired on the ascent. For a few seconds, she hears the way storm clouds gather under the barrier. The stone is warm under her infernally cold hands.

There are kids on the streets nearby but none of them are hers so she doesn’t care. If they are staying the night at the church square, neither do their parents.

The dim lights of the Isle don’t reach her here, she is illuminated only by the shimmering of the barrier. If she tries, she can probably even find a star or two through the gaps between the stormy clouds that are anchored on top of the barrier.

She wonders, can he see the barrier down there? Is her father reaching out to touch it too? Is he digging through the dirt, like she is? Does he think of her?

Mal does not think of her father often. Sometimes, she forgets she has a father at all. She is her mother’s daughter so thoroughly, she wouldn’t be surprised to find out if even her very bones had “Property of Maleficent” carved into them.

But tonight, she wonders about Hades. She knows so little of the man, of the god. She knows that he sits in his catacombs, that he makes that little Facilier runt run his errands, that he’s merciful with her. Mal has only one memory, though it is spotty like the radio transmissions they get on the Isle, inviting imagination to fill in the blanks.

And, like everything about her, Mal’s imagination is cruel.

She remembers the day her father left. The cold grey light, the dust particles that floated in the air, the back and forth screaming, and the smell of sulphur that filled their house. She was hiding under the staircase, ready to dart into the closet if her mother decided to take out her frustrations on her.

Then, a vase… or a sugar bowl? Something porcelain, anyway, was thrown down and broke into a million tiny sharp pieces at the bottom of the stairs. She remembers having to clean it up later and getting cuts on her chubby fingers.

Her mother screamed something along the lines of “You are not a god anymore! Go back to hell!” and slammed their bedroom door shut. Mal peeked out from under the staircase, just as the thunderous steps made more dust fall out and float in the air.

This is where it gets fuzzy.

Sometimes, she can only remember him opening the front door, daylight outside too bright for Mal’s eyes that were used to the semi-darkness of their house. Hades turned to look at her for a moment, face unreadable, and walked out with a resounding slam of the door.

Sometimes, she remembers more. She remembers that her father noticed her peeking out from under the stairs. He walked up to her, and he doesn’t have a face in these memories but she knows he was looking her in the eyes. He asked her if she wanted to come with him, but before she could answer, he sighed and said: “No, that won’t work. I’d be tired of you. I’d be able to bear that if I loved you but you are too much like your mother already. It’s too late, she taught you well.” And then he turned around and left her life forever.

Sometimes, she entertains the idea of finding him. Marching into the catacombs where he has made a home, holding a knife to his throat, seeing if he bleeds red or golden. The problem is, she will never be able to make him feel her own pain.

And what would that accomplish? He was right.

Mal was an unlovable child and she is an unlovable adult. At least she is rational enough to know it.

Here, in this dark place where no one can hear her, she tips her face to the sky. There is no hope to find the stars but the rain finds her somehow. The droplets are sweet on her lips.

No one sees her cry.

[onadee1234]

Part 2 is growing on me. My theory was they were not gonna reveal Penelope as Lady Whistledown to the whole ton because it didn't make sense to me to reveal her if they were gonna have a connected storyline/consistent narrator for future seasons. But whatever, they went with what they went with. There was definitely a way for Penelope to have the same growth, and for the audience to have the same emotional catharsis, without the whole ton and the Queen knowing she's Lady Whistledown. I know she has Genevieve to feed her gossip, but how is it going to work practically? Will her paper turn from a revolutionary gossip column that often took political shots at the Crown into a fashion mag? Anyway...

My main problem with part two was not enough Polin! Which could've been solved by more episodes, or a rearranging of when the side plots resolved. Especially Benedict's side plot. Love him, but he took up way too much time in the 2nd part. His pansexuality/throuple plot should've resolved in the first part. They cut SO MANY Polin scenes and for what? And Colin should've apologized to Penelope before episode 8. We deserved to see Lord and Lady Whistledown actually working together. I know Colin's character growth was learning to let Pen take care of herself, but like, he can still be protective and angry he just needed to re-direct it.

[100hearteyes]

The reason why I love Saskia so much and think she's hands down the best character of Class of '07 (in a cast full of really great characters) is that she's never just one thing or the other.

She was an awful bully and queen of the school, yet that school is also where she lived her biggest trauma. But the show never uses one thing to negate nor excuse the other; only uses it to inform and deepen Saskia's character.

Going back to the role of Queen Bee is torture and eats away at Saskia, because that's a side of herself she worked very hard to leave behind, and she only does it because she truly believes it's their only way of surviving. And we see it in those moments where she says people have no idea how much it hurts her to revert back to her mean girl persona and how much she resents Amelia for making her do it. She hates it.

However, she also almost revels in it, as it comes oh so easily and naturally to her. And she admits that she doesn't feel anything when she sees Laura collapse, she "murders" Sandy, manipulates conversations with Zoe and Teresa, shuns Genevieve, etc because she's doing what she has to to survive, keep riding, like he said, but also... It's like something in her shut off. And also came alive at the same time (we see that happening in real-time when she breaks in front of Teresa - who had just lost a toe, but that was also Saskia's thing until later in the season, how her pain seemed to matter more or something - and then when T bursts at her she shuts down and back into mean girl). And she hates that more than anything, as she admits, that she worked so hard to leave the mean girl behind and then it's so damn easy to be her again.

And then, she explodes. She goes ballistic on Renee and Phoebe, and when she's finally caught for "killing" Sandy she's willing to take her punishment. Relishes the opportunity to finally leave the mean girl behind. But then, she's confronted with just how much she hurt all the girls in her class, and she understands that her pain doesn't negate that, and she fully accepts her punishment. Becomes numb to everything that's happening to her, even.

I think Saskia only truly starts healing when Sister Bicky shows up and they have that conversation about him and how the faculty should have done more to deter him.

She's never just the bully, she's never just Queen Bee, she's never just the girl who was taken advantage of my a teacher, she's never just the byproduct of her trauma. She's never just sad or angry or guilty or cold. She's never just either victim or perpetrator. The villain or one of the heroes. She's all of those things all at once, and she can and does change from one facet to the other in a fraction of a second.

Speaking of whom, Saskia's complexity also shows in how she (rightfully) blames him for fucking her up, but also still remembers him in key moments (that line, "I don't understand how the person who fucked you up so badly could also be the voice of encouragement that you need to go on," is brilliant) and gets jealous when she finds out this other girl lasted longer, and still relies on her memories of him to find the strength to keep up the mean girl persona, for the sake of the group. Those are normal - and heartbreaking - consequences of that type of trauma, of course, but they also show just how layered Saskia is and how up to a point - and even if, like Genevieve said, she was a bully before year 12 - her trauma informs her mean girl bullying, and the bullying and inhabiting the mean girl skin again deepens the trauma.

She's possibly my favorite pseudo villain ever.

Anyway, Saskia is a fantastic character and that's thanks to the writers and Caitlin Stasey.

[herejusttosufferalong]

There's definitely story left where Polin is concerned. And the story could even, this time, include Penelope and Agatha's friendship. With Lady Danbury knowing she was Whistledown and Genevieve potentially no longer being necessary to help Penelope print, Penelope is going to need more strong women in her circle. She's got her mother and Violet now, bless them both, but I feel like Penelope and Agatha could get into a lot of mischief. Especially if Penelope is invited to attend the same married women's club that Agatha brought Daphne into. So that leaves plenty of time for them to establish the kind of friendship they had in the books to get them to a point where Penelope names their daughter after her, if they go that route.

Penelope is also in closer proximity to the Queen than she was before. Who is to say that the Queen wouldn't invite her over for a little goss sesh?

Colin's story could be about his writing and possibly opening a publishing house and recruit talent since he and his wife are both writers. Maybe he could also be the one to remind Benedict how much he liked creating with his painting. Point him back to a purpose which would be great for Colin who felt like he had none himself for so long. I feel like Colin's character is one to help inspire others. He inspired Penelope to believe in herself which in turn helped him believe in himself and I'd love to see him extend that. Not saying he should be a guidance counselor but it'd be cool to see other characters look to him for some direction, he the one who had to travel so much to find himself only to realize home was where his heart was....but that's another conversation.

There's story enough left for Polin for them to be included for seasons to come and I'm sorry, not sorry, the way they love Nicola............she's not going anywhere if netflix can help it.

.

[disasterofastory]

I just finished watching the third season of Bridgerton. It wasn't bad, but for a series that comes out every two years with only 8 episodes, I expect much more.

Some thoughts that might contain SPOILERS:

I loved Anthony and Kate and I’m sad they didn’t have more scenes. But seriously, does anyone believe that Anthony would skip his sister's wedding to travel to India with his pregnant wife???!

I really missed Daphne, especially in the family scenes.

Benedict's threesome scenes in the last episode were completely unnecessary. I don’t really understand the point of his storyline this season, and I’m only not angry about it because I always suspected he was bisexual and I love being right.

I love Genevieve and Portia.

I know many people are angry about Francesca’s storyline with the Michael/Michaela thing, but to be honest, I don't care at all. Francesca is a sweet, likable girl, but I haven't seen anything that would make me look forward to her season, especially if it won’t involve the family, the queen, and the Ton.

Although what Cressida did was mean, I understand her. She simply had nothing left to lose. However, I don’t get why no one wanted to marry her, even for a mutually beneficial arrangement.

I didn’t feel like this was Penelope and Colin’s season at all; it seemed more like filler to move everyone else's storylines.

Everything I loved about Colin was missing. I have no idea what happened with him. He wasn't the main character of his own season.

And how can Penelope continue writing now? With everyone knowing her secret, people won’t just gossip around her.

So overall, I enjoyed the new season, but I need more. Either give us a new season every year or much more episodes, because this is not nearly enough or worth the wait.

[poppypirate]

I'm still obsessed with Bridgerton honestly (who isnt), so here is an offering of my favourite stills from s3 (all in one place so i dont have to navigate imdb's horrible interface to see my favourite faces)

I'm gonna caption everything because i have way too much time on my hands

First up, we have, true to character, Lady Danbury and the Queen

The Queen was perfect. People have a lot of opinions about how her reaction to LW was anticlimactic but fuck that. She acted exactly like the Charlotte we know and love. As for Lady D, I LOVED the way they opened her character up this season!! I love it when she's stripped down to just "Agatha." And I teared up during that talk she had with Violet🥺

Which reminds me, I do so hope Violet finds her way with Marcus!! He's so cute.

Next up, we have all my favourite pairings.

With a bonus of Genevieve and Penelope. Because I admit, if I didn't love Colin so much, I'd be crazy shipping those two. (I do not mind this occasional clown behaviour.)

And of course, no one's forgetting The Threesome anytime soon.

Everyone has a crush on Benedict. Beautiful bi Benedict. And Lady Tilley's either a viper or a panther, I can't decide which. Either way, the way she slinks around, and the way her hair cascades down her shoulders - GODDESS.

And then we have Paul. Oh, Paul, Paul, Paul. I am not too proud to admit that the first time I saw him, I paused the tv, clapped a hand to my mouth, and whisper-shouted, "he's so hot!" And I mean, can you blame me? The dark hair, the blue eyes, the beard, that WAY OF WALKING. I refuse to be shamed for this

[taraljc]

It has only just occurred to me that since Marina married Phillip Crane, that they might bring back Theo Sharpe for Eloise. I really hope so actually because the actor was very good in the part and they had great chemistry and it's a much more interesting dynamic than her fate in the books.

Having now finished my season 1 and season 2 rewatch, I realise just how much I prefer the series to the novels because in large part to the addition of Queen Charlotte, and the overarcing story of Charlotte vs Penelope.

I'm also looking forward to seeing how the back half of season 3 progresses because so much is different. Colin and Penelope in this series have always been much closer than they were in the novels, and much more is made of Eloise and Penelope's relationship and it's much more complex and interesting.

and I greatly enjoy Benedict having his little side quests and adventures with his artist models and unexpected polyamory. I know a lot of people were upset that the series is skipping around in terms of the timeline, but I think it works much better with the television version of the Featheringtons because they are as much a part of the series as the Bridgertons and Lady Danbury. It is truly an ensemble cast, where everyone gets a lot more to do and a lot more character development but particularly Portia and Penelope.

Also I can now no longer imagine the series without Genevieve Delacroix and Will and Alice Mondrich. They may not get as much screen time but they are very much entangled in so many different relationships.

The one thing that does make me laugh is that even though the London season is actually structured around when parliament meets, I don't think we've ever seen anyone actually at the House of Lords, or even so much as mentioning parliament.

[blueberry-bubbles130]

So I've been reading a few of the Barbie Princess and the Pauper essays that are floating around the internet (mostly Tumblr) and I've got a theory that Preminger killed the King, before the movie takes place.

First of all I'd like to give a lot of credit and a big thank you to @rin-the-shadow for their brilliant analysis of the timeline of the movie that helped me massively in figuring out when Preminger would have killed the king for the theory. Since the ages of the characters are not stated anywhere, or even implied, within the movie itself. So there's not a lot to work with in terms of timing. 

I'd also like to thank my two close friends who helped me come up with this theory. 

So first for a bit of a background, in the movie the King isn't mentioned at all, and we only see him once at the beginning of the movie, which is in the prologue. From this evidence, it's incredibly safe to say he is dead by the time the movie takes place. Now If we look at Rin's analysis and the evidence they use from the movie, they state Preminger comes into the role of Queen Genevieve's advisor when Annaliese is around 6 years old.

From here the timeline becomes messy, as we don't know when Julian becomes the tutor to Annaliese. I'm assuming that he becomes her tutor at least 3-5 years before the movie begins. This is a bit clearer if we again look at Rin's analysis, in which they theorise about the difference in time between Julian and Preminger's arrival at the palace: as they state with more movie evidence in which Julian can remember living in the village. As well as this Annaliese and Julian are really close at the beginning of the movie, which shows they've gotten to know each other really well. So I think that Julian is a bit older than Annaliese, not by much though, so I'm going to say he's about 2 years older than Annaliese.

This leaves about 5-6 years maximum for Preminger to get rid of any evidence he may still have lying around from him murdering the King, from him coming to the castle to Julian's arrival at the palace.

So for the theory itself, I think that Preminger murdered the King a year or two into his role as the Royal Advisor. Now you may be asking why Preminger would kill the King?

That's because I think the King was incredibly close to discovering Preminger's plan to steal the gold, so he decides to murder him in order to truly get rid of him, and keep his plan secret. This is because the King was probably the smartest out of him and Genevieve at the time, therefore the King would question Preminger more. And lets be real for a moment he probably realised that Preminger is clearly evil. While Annaliese would be about 7 or 8 according to the timeline, so she'd be too young at the time and less of a concern to Preminger. 

Now by doing this, Preminger in fact gets a few things out of murdering the king. The main one being that he can keep his plan secret much longer, allowing him a greater chance at succeeding. The second thing he gets out of this, is now an increase of power through Queen Genevieve.

Throughout the movie, it's shown that Preminger has Queen Genevieve completely under his thumb, a massive example being when he proposes to her (we'll be coming back to this piece of evidence later). And from this we can assume that for a while before the start of the movie, Preminger was essentially making the decisions for the Kingdom while manipulating Genevieve into agreeing with him. Or making it look like she's the one truly making the decisions.  (Because as much as I love Genevieve, it's clearly shown, at best she's completely dependent upon Preminger, and at worst dumb on her own)

Once Preminger kills the King this leaves grieving Annaliese and a vulnerable Queen Genevieve. She's now a widow, with a kingdom and a child to not only look after, but make sure she's an experienced heir to the throne. On top of that she's going to be grieving and that's going to make things a lot harder for her. 

This is where Preminger's manipulation of Queen Genevieve truly begins. Through her grief Preminger can manipulate her by making it seem like he's helping her work through her grief, while also making it seem like he's the answer to her problems of taking care of the kingdom. As a result this increases the power and wealth Preminger holds, whilst making Queen Genevieve completely dependent on him over time. 

This leaves the timeline looking like this: 

.Genevieve and the King become a couple

.Annaliese is born

.Preminger is hired as the Royal Advisor when Annaliese is about 6

.The King is murdered by Preminger when Annaliese is about 7 or 8

.Julian is hired 

.The events of the movie happen

All that is left now is to figure out how the King was murdered. Now if you've seen the movie or have seen a review, you know that when he has to, Preminger is 100% willing to murder people. This is shown when he tries to murder Annaliese and Julian by causing a cave-in, within the Royal Mine. Which happens because Julian and Annaliese are smart enough to realise that Preminger is evil. And by this point murder is Preminger's only option to secure his plan. 

The evidence is also important, as it reinforces how experienced Preminger is when it comes to manipulating Genevieve, because the next two scenes are when Preminger exposes Erika and then the proposal scene. The proposal scene shows how he uses Genevieve's own grief against her, to marry her in order to become king (and completely disregarding any emotions she may have about this situation). It not only shows that he has total power over her, since she doesn't even make a verbal response she just turns around and holds her hand out for the ring to be placed on her finger. It also shows that he is very used to doing this and knows that in this situation all he has to do is present himself as the solution to her problem. But this time he's gotten so desperate and thinks that he's won so he doesn't even bother hiding his evil intent from Genevieve. As by this point he's managed to figuratively and literally back her into a corner where he is her only option. 

Going back to how Preminger murdered the King, he has a few options for how he can do it. 

He can make it look like an accident or natural causes

He can make it look like someone else murdered him

Not care at all how it looks and get rid of the evidence later

Again from looking at the movie, when he tries to murder Annaliese and Julian by collapsing the mine, he at least tries to make it look somewhat like an accident (at least I think he does, please correct me if I'm wrong). So I'm more inclined to go with option 1 for his method. We also have to remember that the movie is set loosley somewhere in the 16th century. So there's more ways to get away with a crime, and it's before Julian arrives at the palace, meaning Preminger has less to worry about when he commits the murder. 

Preminger also seems like the type to not have much physical involvement in a murder, that is yet again shown in the mine collapse scene. So I'm going to say that Preminger most likely poisoned the king. 

This is because poison was widely available at the time, with apothecaries selling poisons as some poisons had functions apart from murder. This means that he can easily get it and get more if he ever needs to. 

So to summarise the theory, Preminger murders the King because he's coming too close to discovering Preminger's plan to gain power and chooses to kill him by poison. This leaves Genevieve vulnerable to Preminger's manipulation that while not making him just yet, gives him a bigger increase of power while pushing his plan further along. Then the events of the movie occur that force him to change his plans and in turn bring about Preminger's downfall and defeat. 

So that's it! Sorry this got a bit long. 

Thanks for listening to my rambles. 

[cesarescabinet]

🌺May Queen Guinevere 🌺

Oh, Genevieve, Saint Genevieve Where were you when my youth was sold? Dear Genevieve, Sweet Genevieve Shan’t I be young before I’m old? (Simple Joys of Maidenhood-Camelot)

My (belated) Guinevere submission for @queer-ragnelle's May Day Parade! I read somewhere that Guinevere was the best chess player at court and wanted to incorporate that in here, since I believe it says a lot about her character.

[unreadpoppy]

Masterlist

Side note: All my work can also be found on my AO3. This is for the tumblr links.

multi chapter fics

song as old as rhyme - Beauty and the Beast!AU (Raphael x Elize) - chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6 / chapter 7 / chapter 8 / chapter 9 / chapter 10 / chapter 11 / chapter 12 / chapter 13 / chapter 14 / chapter 15 / chapter 16 (SMUT) / chapter 17 / chapter 18 / chapter 19 / chapter 20 / chapter 21 / Epilogue / bonus chapter (FINISHED)

down by the river - Raphael x Warlock!Tav - Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8 (ongoing)

Plus One - Modern AU! Raphael x Fem!Tav - chapter 1 / chapter 2 (ongoing)

To Win the Princess's Heart - Bridgerton season 2 inspired (Raphael x Genevieve) - Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 (hiatus) (i'm probably never going to finish this)

One-shots

Raphael Period Fic (Raphael x Reader)

Raphael comforts you (Raphael x Reader)

Cirice (Priest!Raphael x Fem!Tav)

Clean that face (Raphael x GN!Tav)

You won't remember this when morning comes (Raphael x Fem! Tav; Modern AU)

send nudes (Raphael x Fem!Tav; Modern AU)

Peacocks (Raphael x GN!Druid!Tav)

Must like dogs (Raphael x Fem!Tav; Modern AU)

Tighter (Raphael x Fem!Tav)

Wild Magic Surge (Raphael x Gwen)

Jane Eyre AU (Raphael x GN!Tav)

Gwen and Raph shennanigans (Raphael x Gwen)

Betrayer AU (this is an AU were Gwen is not technically Tav)

Betrayer (Raphael x Gwen)

The Runaway Bride (part two of Betrayer) (Raphael x Gwen)

Cafuné (Raphael x Gwen)

Helldusk (Raphael x Gwen)

The making of heirs (Raphael x Gwen) (SMUT)

a small snippet of something (Raphael x Pregnant!Gwen) (somewhat of the sequel to the making of heirs)

An heir is born (Dad!Phael x Gwen)

workshop (Dad!Phael)

Family Portrait (Raphael x Gwen)

Halsin bear related headcanons

Halsin's Bugged Ending (Halsin x Gwen)

Wash My Dreams Away (previously titled Brown Eyes) - Halsin x Tav (Gwen) (and a small Raphael x Gwen on the side) - Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 (ongoing)

All of her fics can be found on AO3. The ones without a pairing are fics more focused on character work instead of the relationship.

Blackbird (Elizabeth x Kallista)

Letting go of what might have been

Choices

Two Moons (Elizabeth x Kallista)

Reunion (Elizabeth x Kallista)

Romeo and Juliet

Poor Prince Benjamin

The Queen

A Lover's Kiss

This is that horror short story about the pandemic I wrote last year for arts class, translated / read it on AO3 as "When fiction becomes reality"