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thebestofoneshots · 9 months ago

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Hi love just wondering when the priest Remus fic will be out? I LOVE LOVE your writing and I am so excited for this one

I truly hope It's this Friday! Especially with the GC chapter we're going to have, I feel like you guys deserve a little compensation. If I can't manage though, it will surely be next week.

Now, and to build more excitement, a little teaser:

NO SWEETER INNOCENCE THAN OUR GENTLE SIN | TEASER

Pairing: Priest!Remus x reader Prompt: You did not want to go to church that day, but your spirits are uplifted when you meet Father Remus, and your mind starts creating a mischievous scheme, to both retaliate over those years of being forced to go and take something from them. Alternatively, R is really mad at the church and decides to steal one of their priests for it (but also kind of falls for him). Warnings: The complete story will contain smut. Innocence! Kink, allusion to fingering and self-pleasure. Reader is seducing a catholic priest and has a bit of a corruption!kink. Smut under the cut.

After the mass was over, you waited a few minutes before leaving the church “accidentally” bumping into him again. “Remus,” you said with a smile. “We seem to continue bumping into each other,” you added as you leaned closer to him and pressed your cheek to his, making a low smacking sound, and then repeating on the other side. He looked bewildered at the contact. “Oh, I’m sorry, did I make you uncomfortable? I got this habit while I was in France and I still haven’t shaken it off completely.”

“Oh… No, no,” hesitant, bashful, you loved every bit of it. “Not at all, it’s fine. You can greet me however you like.”

“Is that privilege reserved to me, or does every other parishioner have it?” He seemed taken aback by your words. “I’m joking, Remus,” you added and placed your hand on his arm, before pulling it back tentatively. “Your mass was wonderful.”

“Thank you, I’m lucky to work at Saint Gryffin.”

“The way I see it, Saint Griffin is lucky to have you. I mean lots of women come here to see beautiful priest Remus.”

“You think?” he asked. Remus didn’t exactly consider himself handsome, he thought his scars would scare people away rather than attract them. But he sometimes failed to see past them and didn’t pay attention to his beautiful eyes, to his charming smile, to his long lashes, or to his well-toned frame. It was as if he had been craved by Michael Angelo himself, from your perspective.

“For sure,” you replied. “Take a closer look at the way they look at you on Sunday and you’ll see.” He blushed, a deeper shade of red than your Nan had pulled out of him, you resisted the urge to bite your lip and smiled instead. “Today was lovely, I’ll see you around,” you said before waving goodbye and leaving exiting the church.

You went again a week later, Remus would sometimes lose his focus on the bible and look at you instead. That day you had chosen a skirt. Nothing too short or indecent, but certainly short enough to allow your legs to be seen and admired. An older man hadn’t stopped staring at you throughout the mass, and you would have perhaps told him off if it hadn’t been for the fact that Remus had been in a similar position.

Remus’ distraction, his hesitance and his constant turning to you were enough to drive your attention away from the man and onto him. You would smile, and you would nod, and you would pretend to be a supportive little lamb. Innocent, and meek and kind. Just what he expected from you. And it was that Wednesday, the third time that you’d met him, that you realised you had him right where you wanted him to be.

He for sure had a thing for you, be it curiosity, admiration, or a small crush. You had gotten his atention, and you had gotten into his mind. Now all you needed was to have him.

(...)

The next Wednesday you had been late, you had allowed your hair to be slightly dishevelled and your cheeks were warm, despite the autumn getting colder. You had bitten your lips and you looked like you had just gotten away from a dire situation. You’d done it on purpose. When his gaze fell on you he almost stopped talking completely. He staggered to complete his words and you nodded for him to go on. When he was done, he rushed out, and you stayed in your seat. Eyes closed and hands clasping each other, pretending to pray.

That’s when you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder, he whispered your name. “Are you okay, Little Lamb?”

It took a real effort not to laugh at his nickname. Not because you thought it was stupid, but because you were so far from a lamb that you might as well have been the wolf that ate it. You turned to him, fake distress clouding your features, “I’ve done something terrible, Remus.”

He was kind, almost impossibly so, it almost made you want to stop your plan and leave him the pure man he was.

almost.

“I’m sure there’s nothing you could do, that was as bad as you’ve described.”

“I’d like to confess,” you said. “Would you take my confession?”

Remus seemed hesitant, biting his lip. He knew he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t hear your confession, not when he wanted to maintain a personal relationship with you, not when he’d develop a crush. But it was in your preoccupied gaze, in the small frown that etched your features, in the way your lips curved down and in the bobbing of your throat as you swallowed. How ever could he deny you?

Oh, those thoughts would be the ones that would drag him into sin, nay, not drag, but rather, waft him into it. If Remus hadn’t been so enamoured by you, perhaps it would have proved a harder task to accomplish for you.

“Okay,” he said simply. And helped you stand. Guiding you towards the empty confessionary and sitting in his spot as you opened the door to the other one. It was a narrow place, enough for you to sit. There was a screen dividing the two of you, you couldn’t see him, but you suspected he could see you. And there was a small, square hole in between, enough to fit perhaps a hand. You assumed it was there in case you’d like to give something to the priest, as a thank you.

Remus cleared his throat, and in the most professional way he could muster he said, “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. My child, what brings you to the sacrament of confession today?”

His voice had been different, stronger as if he was trying not to be himself. You loved it. “Father, I come seeking forgiveness for my sins. I have strayed from the path of righteousness and I seek reconciliation,” you let your voice bend and crack near the end.

“I am here to listen, my child. Let us begin with a moment of reflection. Take a moment to examine your conscience and bring to mind the sins you wish to confess.”

You held back the smirk that threatened to appear when he said that, just in case he was actually able to see you. “I have fallen in love with a man I cannot have.”

“Oh, darling,” he said, that was Remus, not Father Remus. You had cracked through his façade and you hadn’t even started. “That is not a sin. It’s happened to the best of us.”

“But it is a sin the way I think of him, Father,” you responded. You heard a sharp intake of breath, but he didn’t speak further. “I have dreamt of him, of his lips, of his eyes with long lashes, the way his hair frames his face, of his beautiful and strong hands–“ Remus tried not to be jealous of the man you described, but everything about him seemed perfect, and unlike himself, he probably could have you. Your beautiful lips, and eyes, focused solely on him. He hated the guy already. “–sliding between my legs, and touching me.”

“Do not speak further,” there was an edge of alarm in his voice. A bit of a broken end to it.

“Oh but Father I must,” you said. “If I don’t I’m afraid I’ll act upon my feelings in the same way I did today while thinking of him.”

“You…” he hesitated. “You touched yourself… Is that why you’re here?”

“Yes,” you replied with a frown, almost a wince, all of it an act, of course.

“Pray Our Father 10 times and–“

“No! Allow me to relate my story, Father,” he tried to stop you. “I must, I must, or then I might go to him and offer myself in a terrible, ungodly manner and then I won’t ever be deserving of the church ever again.”

Frankly, you didn’t even know how you’d gotten so inspired, but Remus relented, nodding and when he realised you hadn’t heard, he bit his cheek and said. “Go on then.”

You sighed, that was a real sigh, you weren’t sure you’d get this far. “I had a dream of him father. He was handsome as ever, and he looked at me, with such kind eyes, with such loving eyes, that when he leaned in to kiss me, I didn’t stop him.”

Remus was already praying for himself. He did not want to imagine you in your bed, your hair sprawled over the pillow and your mind away in a dream, kissing another man.

(…)

Remus’ boner was straining against his pants in a way that was almost painful. He wanted to let go, he wanted to set him free and chase his own pleasure at your words. At how he pictured you in your bed, sweaty and sighing as you touched yourself. You were so beautiful, he found innocence even in the way you sinned.

“And then there was bliss, I thought I was dead and had gone to heaven, but I came back, vision cloudy and disoriented. My bedsheets were sticky with my juices and I had to change them. I’ve been in a permanent state of shame ever since then.”

“Let us pray for your forgiveness,” Remus said. And my own, he thought. Now not only your sheets had been stained, but so had his pants, just from hearing you. You would have relished on the knowledge if you’d had it.

“Thank you, Father,” you said as you stood.

“Pray tell me child, whoever is this man that has you in such an altered state of mind?”

Got him! you thought as you turned your gaze to the confessionary. And almost in a whisper, you murmured. “Well, it’s you, Remus.”

Read More Marauders Fiction Here

No sweeter innocence than our gentle sin will be out soon!

Tag list open (Just tell me if you want to be added)

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thollandsgirl2013 · 8 days ago

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Thank you so very much for doing my last request when I saw the post I was so excited to read it!!! If it's not too much trouble, could you do another one where Tom (who is the designated driver) and the reader and some of their friends are at a pub quiz one night and there is a guy who tries to come onto and touch on the reader and tom (who has a big crush on the reader) gets mad and goes into protective mode plzzz 😊

Not really happy with how it turned out. It could have been better. I hope you like it 😶

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐛 𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐳

Parings → Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings → fluff, drunk guy

Summary → At a pub quiz, Tom protects you from a drunk guy, later on confesses his feelings.

The pub buzzed with energy as you and the gang settled into your usual spot near the corner, a cozy booth that offered just the right mix of privacy and visibility. The monthly pub quiz had become a cherished tradition among you, Tom, Harry, Harrison, Tuweine, Sam, and Sam’s girlfriend, Clark. The seven of you made an unbeatable team, though the friendly debates over trivia answers often turned into playful chaos.

“Alright, team!” Harry said, smacking the table as the first round’s questions were announced. “We’ve got this. No stupid answers this time, Harrison.”

“I wasn’t stupid last time!” Harrison retorted, indignant. “The question was ambiguous.”

“Mate, it was ‘What’s the capital of France,’” Sam deadpanned, earning a laugh from everyone at the table.

You caught Tom grinning as he leaned back in his chair, sipping from a bottle of non-alcoholic beer. His brown curls were slightly messy, and his soft smile made your chest feel warm. Tom had been sober for two years now, a decision he’d made that he's really proud of. It hadn’t changed much about your nights out, except that he always drove you all home—and refused to let you forget it.

As the quiz carried on, you felt the urge to grab another drink. You nudged Tom’s shoulder as you stood. “Want anything from the bar?”

“Nah, I’m good, love,” he replied, his voice warm and familiar. “But don’t take too long. We need you for the next round.”

You chuckled, giving him a mock salute. “Yes, boss.”

At the bar, you ordered your drink and leaned against the counter, tapping your fingers idly as the bartender started to mix it. The pub was packed tonight, and the energy felt almost tangible, a buzzing current of chatter, laughter, and clinking glasses.

“Hey there,” a voice interrupted your thoughts.

You turned to find a man standing uncomfortably close, a cocky grin plastered across his face. His slightly slurred words and the beer in his hand told you he’d had more than a few drinks.

“Did it hurt?” He asked, smirking.

“Excuse me?” you replied, confused.

“When you fell from heaven.” He leaned in closer, his breath reeking of alcohol.

You forced an awkward smile, shifting away slightly. “Can you not please? I’m just waiting for my drink.”

The bartender was taking forever, and you felt your stomach twist uncomfortably as the guy continued to talk ignoring your comment.

“You here alone? Because a pretty thing like you shouldn’t be.”

Your gaze darted to your table, hoping someone would notice. As if on cue, you caught Tom’s sharp eyes locking onto yours. His playful demeanor vanished, replaced by a look of pure concern—and anger.

The guy reached out, brushing his fingers against your arm. “How about I keep you company?”

“Don’t touch me,” you said firmly, stepping back. But before you could say more, the man grabbed your wrist.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Don’t be like that—”

“Let. Go. Of. Her.”

The voice was calm, low, and terrifyingly controlled. You turned your head to see Tom standing behind the man, his jaw clenched, his fists tight at his sides.

“Who the hell are you?” The guy slurred, sizing Tom up.

“Her best friend,” Tom said evenly, his hand darting out to grab the guy by the collar. “And I swear to God, if you don’t back off, I’ll—”

“Tommy!” You grabbed his arm, your voice cutting through the tension. “Stop it. It’s not worth it.”

Tom hesitated, his chest heaving with barely restrained fury. Slowly, he released the guy, shoving him back a step. “If I see you near her again,” he growled, “you’ll regret it.”

The guy muttered something under his breath but quickly staggered off when Tom took a menacing step forward.

Tom turned to you, his expression softening immediately. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, though your hands were still shaking. “I’m fine. Thanks to you.”

“C’mere.” He placed a hand gently on your back, guiding you to a quieter corner of the pub. “What the hell happened?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “He just came out of nowhere and wouldn’t leave me alone.”

Tom’s hand dropped to yours, squeezing lightly. “I shouldn’t have let you go alone.”

“Tom, stop,” you said softly, meeting his worried gaze. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You came when I needed you.”

His thumb brushed over your knuckles, his eyes searching yours. “If anyone ever makes you uncomfortable like that again, you come to me immediately, okay? I don’t care where I am or what I’m doing. Just—just come to me.”

“I promise,” you said, offering a small smile.

“Good.” He sighed, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “Now, let’s get back to the table before Haz tries to answer something ridiculous again.”

As you walked back, Tom kept his hand on your back, a protective presence you hadn’t realized how much you needed until now. When you sat down, the group immediately noticed the shift in his mood.

“Everything okay?” Harry asked, glancing between the two of you.

Tom nodded, his arm still resting on the back of your chair. “Yeah. Just dealt with a jerk. Nothing to worry about.”

You smiled at Tom, grateful beyond words. As the quiz continued, you felt his presence beside you, steady and reassuring.

And when he looked over at you, his eyes soft and filled with unspoken emotions, you wondered if maybe, just maybe, there was more to your friendship than either of you had dared to admit.

-----------------

The drive home was calm, the hum of the car engine the only consistent sound amid the occasional murmurs from the boys in the back seat. Tom’s hands gripped the steering wheel as he glanced at you, fast asleep in the passenger seat. The faint glow of streetlights danced across your peaceful face, and his heart squeezed.

“You’re so whipped, mate,” Harrison whispered, smirking as he leaned forward from the back seat.

“Shut up,” Tom muttered, his eyes fixed on the road, though the heat creeping up his neck betrayed him.

“Come on, Tom,” Harry chimed in, his voice dripping with mischief. “You nearly decked a guy for her tonight. If that doesn’t scream I’m in love with my best friend, I don’t know what does.”

“I was protecting her,” Tom defended, his voice low but firm. “That guy was out of line.”

“Sure, that’s all it was,” Tuweine added, his tone teasing. “And the way you kept your arm around her all night? Completely platonic, right?”

Tom’s jaw tightened. He didn’t want to argue, especially not while you were sleeping just a few inches away. He risked another glance at you, his chest tightening again at how serene you looked.

“Tom,” Harrison pressed, leaning forward even more. “When are you going to tell her?”

“Tell her what?” Tom replied, feigning ignorance.

“Don’t play dumb,” Harry said, grinning. “You’ve been in love with her for ages. Literally everyone knows. Even Sam’s girlfriend clocked it within five minutes of meeting you.”

Tom groaned, running a hand through his curls. “I can’t just… tell her, okay? What if it ruins everything? What if she doesn’t feel the same way?”

“Oh, she feels the same way,” Harrison said knowingly.

“Wait, how do you know that?” Tom asked, his voice a mix of hope and panic.

“Mate, she looks at you like you’re her favorite person in the world,” Tuweine said, sitting up straighter. “The way she lights up when you talk, how she always saves the seat next to her for you, she would punch us if we try to take it. It’s obvious.”

Tom hesitated, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel. “But what if you're wrong?” He murmured.

“Tom,” Harry said gently, leaning forward to rest a hand on Tom’s shoulder. “You’ll never know unless you take the risk. She deserves to know how you feel. And if anyone can make it work, it’s you two.”

Tom didn’t respond immediately, his mind racing. He glanced at you again, your head leaning slightly against the window. The thought of confessing his feelings filled him with equal parts excitement and terror.

“You’re overthinking it,” Harrison added, breaking the silence. “Just tell her. You’ll feel better once it’s out in the open.”

Tom sighed, shaking his head. “You lot are relentless, you know that?”

“Only because we care,” Harry said with a cheeky grin.

The boys chuckled, leaning back in their seats and giving Tom a moment of quiet. But their words lingered, echoing in his mind as he drove.

By the time they reached the house, Tom had made up his mind.

“Tom?” Harrison whispered as they all got out of the car, leaving you still asleep in the passenger seat.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t chicken out.”

Tom shot him a look but didn’t argue. He opened your door gently, crouching down to tap your shoulder softly.

“Hey, love,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “We’re here.”

You stirred, blinking up at him sleepily. “Already?”

“Yeah.” He offered a soft smile, his heart flipping as you rubbed your eyes and yawned.

Tom helped you out of the car, his hand lingering on your arm for a moment longer than necessary. As the others walked ahead, giving you some space, Tom took a deep breath.

“Y/N, can I tell you something?” He asked, his voice hesitant.

You looked up at him, your eyes still slightly bleary but full of trust. “Of course. What’s up?”

Tom hesitated, his pulse pounding. But then he thought about everything the boys had said, about how much you meant to him, and how much he wanted you to know.

“I—” He stopped, running a hand through his curls. “I think… I think you’re amazing, I-I love you. And I need you to know that.”

You tilted your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Well, I love you too, Tom.”

“No, I mean…” He laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “I think I’m in love with you, Y/N. Actually, I know I am.”

Your eyes widened, and for a moment, Tom felt like the ground might swallow him whole. But then you smiled—a real, bright, heart-stopping smile—and his breath caught.

“It’s about time,” you said softly, stepping closer. “Because I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you too.”

Tom stared at you, his heart soaring. “Wait—really?”

“Really,” you confirmed, laughing at his stunned expression.

Tom didn’t hesitate. He leaned down and kissed you, his lips soft and warm against yours. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in that moment.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and he couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face. “I’ve been wanting to do that for so long.”

You laughed softly, your arms wrapping around his neck. “Well, you can do it as much as you want now.”

Tom chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close. “I’m never letting you go, love.”

“Good,” you murmured, leaning into him.

Inside the house, the boys peeked through the curtains, grinning like idiots. Harrison turned to the others, smug. “Told you he’d do it tonight.”

“About time,” Harry muttered, shaking his head with a laugh.

Outside, Tom tightened his hold on you, completely unaware—and completely happy.

°:. *₊ ° . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ° .•

#tom holland #tomholland2013 #thollandsgirl2013 #tom holland spiderman #tom holland fanfiction #spider man #tom holland x fem!reader #peter parker x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker #peter parker x fem!reader

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marigold-hills · 7 months ago

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june 4: wildfire | @wolfstarmicrofic | word count: 626

PREVIOUS PART • NEXT PART • FIRST PART

Remus says: “take me to bed.”

Remus say take me to bed and Sirius remembers a trip to France when he was a child, the summer air during a drought, sharp and heavy and dense enough to blanket him, and then, a week later, watching a wildfire ravage through the forest. This is the spark, Sirius thinks.

He was safe within the Manor’s wards, but the fire was a savage, hungry thing and it ate the horizon. Sirius was a wild child then, and he is wild still, and the desire to go outside and feel the burn on his skin hasn’t changed.

“I’ve finished my dissertation,” he admits, not ready for this golden moment between them to end and coming clean about the little omission is easier than facing new thoughts.

(Remus says that’s amazing, Sirius. He says good job, congratulations.)

“And I… um… tattoo.”

“You got a tattoo?” Remus reads into the jumbled words, frowns, “why didn’t you say? You’ve been going on about it all year.”

Sirius is wearing an oversized Queen T-shirt he likes to sleep in. The hem is loose. Makes it easy to lift up above his torso. Down the middle of his breastbone, exposing more than skin: the sign of the alchemical Great Wolf and below it seven intricate moons, waxing and waning.

“You… you didn’t say that’s what you were getting.”

Remus doesn’t blink, not once. Takes in the ink like reading a book – top to bottom, careful eyes. Reaches out to touch each symbol in turn, one by one, his fingers holding the same reverence Sirius has seen in him when handling ancient texts. They’re keeping his place, marking where he is on the page. For one mad moment Sirius wants the mark to be permanent.

“Why, Sirius?” Remus asks as if Sirius knew the answer. He doesn’t say Pads or Padfoot or “you great big mangy dog” as he does usually, he says Sirius and that’s how they both know it’s important.

And Sirius wants to answer – wants to give the right answer - but he can’t because he doesn’t know. Only knows this: he was there, with the money ready, and the man with the tattoo gun asked what will it be? and out of the window, out of the corner of his eye, Sirius saw the moon and said: this. This is what I want to touch me for the rest of my life, this is what I want to carve into my skin.

And while the ink was being needled into him, it quietened the need he has to bite and keep, to hurt.

And now, Remus’ careful fingers meld it together and satisfy the part of him which wants to be soft and gentle, sweet.

“Sirius?” Remus prods when he doesn’t answer. Splays his hand so that it lays flat across the tattoo, and has Moony always had hands this large? Has the rough edge of his fingers, from years of using a quill, always felt like that?

It must have because this is Moony – their Moony, his Moony - but it couldn’t because Sirius never once has been rendered quiet by a simple touch before. There have been so many over the years, in the Shack, after Quidditch, in the Lake, at nights filled with nightmares. Always the same hands, and yet.

Sirius let’s go of the hem of his shirt and grabs onto the hand on his chest, presses it closer into his skin like he could push it through to touch his heart (it’s beating now, so fast, so, so hard). He wants more and he wants to understand, and he’ll give into both the urges. For as long as Remus will let him.

Remus, eyes wide, lets him.

NOTES:

This is part 4! There will be 30. I suggest reading in order for the full experience but they also should work as standalone.

Don’t do this in the library. If you must, I suppose 2am is a good time.

I’ve changed Sirius’ tattoo from how it was in the movies. Originally the symbol he has on the very top is for amalgamation and here I went with antimony because it signifies the great wolf and I like the idea of that. The symbols are actually very similar looking. If you remember part one, this one goes back to the dissertation he’s writing.

not sure if I should add smut to this. Thoughts?

@moon-girl88 @digital-kam @tealeavesandtrash @sweetstarryskies

(let me know if you do/don’t want to be tagged in next parts)

#remus lupin #sirius black #wolfstar #marauders #dead gay wizards #fanfic #microfiction #remus x sirius #marauders era

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multifandom--mess · 4 months ago

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Hannigram Fic Recs! pt.3

part 1 | part 2

here's some fic recs for youuu (⁠◠⁠‿⁠・⁠)⁠—⁠☆ definitely took me way too long to add a part 3 to this but whatever, enjoy a variety of fics in no particular order that i've read the last few months that deserve to be shared and enjoyed ♡

old-fashioned divinity candy [series, ongoing]

Explicit, 115k+ | the relationship between old money, med student hannibal lecter and his newly rich sugar daddy, will graham

Like a Lucid Dream

Explicit, 75k | In the days following Will's fateful fall from the bluff, Molly Graham begins to understand the extent of her ignorance regarding Hannibal and Will's relationship. The discovery of her husband's deceit leads her to seek refuge and escape in their cottage in the mountains. There's only one problem: she's not the only one who is looking for a place to hide.

you swallow my heart and flee (but i want it back now)

Explicit, 65k | After they killed Francis Dolarhyde, Will was certain he pulled Hannibal off the cliff with him, but when he wakes up, he’s still on the edge of the bluff, surrounded by FBI agents and paramedics. It’s apparent Hannibal got away safely, and Will is put on the job to help find him. When Will finds Hannibal’s journal in his old cell, filled with entries about, and drawings of, himself, he sneaks it into the waistband of his pants and takes it home. It forces Will into dealing with his own feelings, and figuring out what he wants. Will can only hope the journal gives him the answers he seeks.

And the Winter Sheds His Grief in Snow

Mature, 4.5k | On a car ride, Will spots something... abnormal. And it somehow breaks the normality of their relationship, in ways neither of them expected.

According to Winston

Mature, 7.9k | Winston this, Winston that — everyone in Will Graham’s life is now privy to his new stray, the lucky seven of his pack of dogs. It comes as a surprise when Winston isn’t what anyone expected, and this new light sets a backdrop to Hannibal’s carefully manipulated plans to make Will into his full and whole self.

Mundane Madness

Explicit, 104k | After a traumatizing experience, Will decides that maybe he deserves a shot at a normal, healthy life. It just might be nice to have Hannibal at his side too.

Leviathan

Mature, 24k | Three years after they fell into the Atlantic, Hannibal and Will have made a new life for themselves in the sun-soaked Douro Valley. But old hurts and unaddressed fears lurk beneath the idyllic pretense, threatening to consume all semblance of peace.

Between Black and White: Crimson

Explicit, 9.6k | After surviving the fall and undergoing a proper treatment, Will and Hannibal moved to a place from the past to start their future together. Till death knocked at their door...again.

Suffer A Sea Change

Mature, 29k | Hannibal meets Will, a fisherman with something oceanic lingering behind his eyes, one stormy summer in coastal France.

Omnipotence Paradox

General Audiences, 14k | The trap springs too quickly in Florence. Will and Hannibal adapt.

There's Something So Lonesome About You

Explicit, 90k | When will Graham is released from the BSHCI, he realizes that there is little left for him with the FBI. He packs up the essentials (and Winston, of course), and leaves. Hannibal has to deal with the sudden loss of Will, and he is not very happy about it.

Leila Isabella

Mature, 11k | Will has been utterly miserable in the long months since Hannibal turned himself in, but he gave Hannibal an unexpected gift in the last hours before everything fell apart.

Hidden Place

Not Rated, 5.5k | Two years after the fall, Will and Hannibal share a heated evening in Cuba.

More Myself Than I Am

Explicit, 9k | Everyone has a soulmate. Someone they will connect with on such an intimate level that they are like one mind in two bodies. It comes on the cusp of adulthood, a shared link between two minds. It will start with feelings, emotions shared across the connection. Some people claim senses; smell and sound. Those who are thoroughly, intensely intertwined can claim to send their very thoughts towards each other, although it’s generally considered bad luck to use the connection to find each other sooner than you are meant to. It is a wonderful thing, to know that no matter who you are or what you’ve done, somebody out there will understand you. Or at least, it’s supposed to be.

In the Darkest Recess

Mature, 12.7k | As a child, Hannibal has problems making friends. A therapist gives him a doll to practice social skills on. Hannibal calls him Will, and quickly becomes obsessed with his new best friend. He never leaves it, even when he begins to hear Will's voice in his head, promising that he will never leave Hannibal, as long as Hannibal is willing to give him 'life to live'. Great love, after all, requires great sacrifice.

#hannibal #nbc hannibal #hannigram #will graham #hannibal lecter #murder husbands #hannibal fanfiction #hannigram fanfiction #fanfic #fic rec #ao3

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whiteskullofroses · 1 year ago

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Hi! I saw that you accept request for Baldwin IV. If you do still accept, could you pls write one where y/n and Baldwin would stay up too late talking to each other until one falls asleeps? Thanks 💕

Hi there thank you for the request! And to clarify, you can always request any characters you want❤️ Enjoy!

LATE NIGHT TALK

Baldwin Iv x reader

It was a cold night in Jerusalem. You were walking around the palace gazing up at the stars and thinking about life when all of a sudden, a familiar voice grabbed your attention: "Y/N!" He called out to you from his room. It was all lit up with candles so you could see his shape clearly: "Care to join me?" The young king's voice sounded so energetic, even though it was already midnight. You answered: "With pleasure!" And happily headed out to his quarters.

Once you reached the hallway that led to his room, you noticed that the door was already opened for you but still, you knocked on the wood to make your presence known.

He turned from his desk to look at you. His mask shone from the candles around him and made his blue eyes sparkle.

"Care for a round?" Baldwin gestured towards the chess set and sat down at the table. "Y/n" Sitting down and listening to his words "I've missed you tonight. I rarely see you these days."

You smiled and replied: "Work has been incredibly tiring," taking a sip of some wine a servant poured: "I've hardly found any time for friends."

Baldwin leaned closer to you: "Well now it's the time. Relax."

You started the chess game and asked: "How come weren't you at the banquet last Monday?"

The King moved a pawn and sighed: "I had an unexpected meeting which I couldn't miss."

Nodding, you moved on since you didn't want to trouble him with hard topics so late in the night.

"Have you read any new poetry lately?" Asking him like you always do, you always loved to listen to him talk about the things he was passionate about, one of them being literature.

Whether it be myths from across Europe containing dragons and other mystical beings or poetry that many saw as simple, however from a trained eye's perspective it was true art projected onto paper.

"Yes, I've read this wonder piece from a book from France Preseren called 'Poezije'" Grabbing the book from a nearby chair and flipping through it, Baldwin proclaimed: "Would you like to hear it?"

"I'd love to, Baldwin." You supported your head with your elbow on the table, as the late hours of the night cut into your brains. "Where did you get it from?"

"I believe I got this book as a gift from my sister when she visited Carniola."

Finally, he started reading, his voice soft as ever:

Fresh flowers will spread fragrance far and near,

Like roses when the winter's passed away.

Your eyelids became heavier and heavier with every word he spoke:

And spring displays its marvelous array,

While through the trees white scattered blossoms peer

Your breathing became deeper, with waves of relaxation washing through your body. All of a sudden you felt like you were 10 years old again, when your mother used to read you books to help you fall asleep.

All this time away from your parents and away from your childhood made you forget how soothing it was and how much you enjoyed it.

Baldwin continued reading the poem whilst you were drifting off into peaceful sleep, right there on his 'chess table'.

He hardly noticed you falling asleep right opposite to him as he was focusing on the text he was reading. But when he finished reading the poem and looked up from the book, he realized you slept through half of it.

He chuckled to himself. Baldwin wasn't mad or annoyed with you, rather he felt a sort of fulfillment that he managed to get you to fall asleep.

For a moment he just sat there, staring at you. You didn't know it at the time but he admired you deeply. For your intelligence and your beauty. He found that this was one of the times he could truly silently look at you and not feel bad about it.

Whenever he would catch himself gazing upon you he would get this guilt deep in his chest. He felt as though it was appropriate for him to look at you when the two of you were just colleagues.

So he slowly walked up to you and carefully picked you up. Walking up to his bed and laying you down in the middle, he knew he couldn't sleep there that night, that would be simply too much.

He decided to go and spend the night in the guest room. Just as he was about to leave your side, you woke up and grabbed him by the wrist, gently but enough so he could feel it.

"Baldwin, stay."

THE END.

#baldwin iv #baldwin iv x reader #kingdom of heaven

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shana-silver-fox · 3 months ago

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Le Paradis Pour Toi TBOC 2.04

Officially Caryl’s song!

I know other Carylers have already discussed the French song of the same name, but here’s the part that’s very Caryly to me

Life isn't hard at all

We're more or less fishermen

We don't have a home

We sleep here or somewhere else

I found paradise for you

This totally fits with the original nomadic theme their spinoff was supposed to have. Paradise is wherever the two of them are.

Lots of thoughts on the episode

This is my favorites of the series. It was like Consumed x1000.

The opening shot of super sad Daryl under that window, not knowing Carol was right outside! I really think he thinks he was going to die there.

Ok. Carol’s plot armor here was level 9000, but 🤷🏼‍♀️

Seeing Carol and Codron go Furiosa was awesome!

I already made a post about how Izzy dies. It was so Beth coded. Right down to the stupid little weapon and bad aim.

They held onto that Tinkerbelle theme to the end. Tink drank poison and was holding her belly like Izzy. Seeing her bleeding out alone, and then being saved by Carol was so emotional. Carol was so caring 🥹

The look on Izzy’s face when Carol told her name. She knew instantly. She knew she could never compete with this bond. She probably was a little sad, but like Clemence said I think it more acceptance. She still believed in signs and God moving their lives through fate. She knew she was looking at Laurent’s new parents.

And I must point out that Daryl didn’t shed a single tear. Dude was was just bawling all over Carol, but no tears for Tink.

It appears Carol put her down since she pulled out her knife at the end of the scene. No burial? No revenge mad Daryl tearing through the castle looking for Losang? No his focus was Laurent, which I think it always was. Izzy was just part of the package. Just like Carol/zeke/henry

I did wish the Caryl reunion had some dialogue, but what could they say that would fit, but wouldn’t trigger the TOWLers to claim they were copying them?

Flew half around the world in a feeling. More Peter pannery, Daryl is Carol’s happy thought!🥰 💫✨

ABCers were all claiming how romantic d’paysant was and how that would be the Tinkyl catchphrase. I loved seeing Daryl smile and say it to Carol not 24 hours after Izzy died.

I could write a book on Didi and Theo. We got a flashforward of future Caryl.

Carol stepped right into being Isabelle in a symbolic sense for the viewers. Pretty obvious what they are saying.

I wil have to do a seperate. Thidi/caryl post. There’s just too much. But how you can’t see Caryl coming after that is crazy.

The convo while Caryl were waiting shows Daryl is still thinking of staying in France even though Izzy is dead. So it was never about her, it was about Laurent.

I think they also hinted that Daryl just wants to start a new life. When Carol says, what about the Grimes kids back home?, he said “this is different” 👀 He just threw a little shade at having to play Rick’s nanny. He’s done and he wants a family with Carol.

Daryl saying he would never be afraid of becoming Carol! ❤️ He loves her just as she is. Flaws and all

Daryl apologized for losing himself

Theo bringing up sex eggs is a foreshadowing! It will be an actual Easter 🥚 ! Mark it!

Everyone being a little jealous of the old man losing his memories. 😢

Didi: Will you stay in Paris? Daryl: we’re still working in it.

See he still didn’t want to go home.

Theo : for you my love. For us. 💔 Sounds like something Daryl would do.

Genet saying “my love-my hope” equating her romantic love with hope. And the narrative has established Carol is Daryl’s hope.

God was not on Genet’s side 🫣 Her death was a really great death befitting a great villain.

Daryl tells Carol Laurent is Henry GLUE and Carol totally understands.

Don’t tell me Daryl Dixon isn’t head over heels in love with Carol.

Ending (happy ending) with Carol and Daryl both having giant smiles when he says Laurent is coming home with us.

Us. The two of us. Look at those smiles!

#caryl #daryl dixon #carol peletier #norman reedus #melissa mcbride #caryl is endgame #caryl positivity #twd #twd caryl #the book of carol #tboc #twd daryl dixon

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belladrawschstuff · 3 months ago

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When your shitty 13 colonies become the world superpower

General info

Nicknames: Ame, stars, the Phoenix (ThEn IlL rAiSe YoU lIkE a PhOeNiX) He's friends with a lot of people, he mostly likes you as long as you respect him. He really is just his dad.

HCs

Because he's older than most countries he's kinda known as a lot of peoples mentor and some see him as an older brother

Speaking of mentors America was taught by a lot of old empires. People like Prussia, Russian empire and all his uncles along with a lot of other countries who taught him about their culture and language. But America did learn how to fly because of Prussia.

He has a few gifts from people, the sunglasses were originally given to him by Scotland but when America was taking care of west Germany, he got weirded out about the fact he couldn't see his eyes, so he made them have an eye tracker, the guitar was given to America by Britain as a way to say sorry for the revolution and war of 1812

He loves fluffy and soft things which is why his coat is fluffy despite the fact he can warm himself up by his fire

His personality disorder is mostly the reason he acts differently in certain situations than others. Its not that he doesn't know how to act its just he needs to have that experience to know how to act. An example is when he 1st started to date Russia because the only affection he knew how to put on other people was to Either act like a child like he was when he was younger or act like a guardian because he was an older brother and also because he's a father. France had to explain to Russia to take it slow and show America what to do.

The choker around Americas neck is from when he was younger. Because he has fire powers, he's kinda allergic to water so he gets burned by it so Britain made a little gem to keep him immune to water, so now he can talk underwater with no consequences.

America is forces to go the presidential debates but he doesn't really care anymore cause he knows both of the people are gonna be shit so he just uses that time to make fun of them.

To torture America Canada makes him watch Hamilton. Like imagine there was a musical about reliving you least favorite time in your life and also the story of how your friends died.

He hates his singing voice so he'll go outside to the forest and play his guitar on the edge of a nice cliff and blast music through his headphones.

America has extreme Arachniphobia. every time Australia loses one of his spiders America says you better find that spider before it finds me.

When his siblings were younger he used to sing to them because he didn't want Britain and France to have to wake up and deal with it.

After 9/11 America has to wear a hearing aid because new York is technically his brain, he covers his ears because of it

Idk how I forgot this one but Americas eyes changes colors depending on his mood. Blue and red is normal, only red is mad or ticked off, green is protective or wary, yellow means he has his eagle wings out and purple means he's bout to nuke you cause he's really mad like lvl 5. His eyes show not only his mood but also which persona is in control at the time ( which I figured out is called split personality disorder

He can also talk to the ancients and dead countries, so he just talks to them when he's bored, Canada can do the same since he is a ghost. If America doesn't have pupils and it's just fully white or black he's talking to them, but its more his internal thoughts that talk to him. he doesn't just start mummbling luckily.

Hes immune to most of the different abilities of other people, he doesn't get frozen in time which came in handy during the cold war, he can still see Canada even if he is a ghost, though Britain can still use magic on him, bad magic like cursing him doesn't work, France can still see his memories, but its mostly because their his parents.

(I know I'm making him over powered but like you should've expected that, I do live in America and America does have the best military by a landslide, so L)

Oh also meme of the day ( don't expect this to be normal)

#countryhumans #artists on tumblr #country humans #countryhumans art #countryhumans america #head cannons #countryhumansrusame

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amberjazmyn · 5 months ago

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she waits💔🫶

pairing : f1 grid x platonic fem!williams driver reader

summary : williams driver francisca benedict grew up without a mum after being abandoned by her. she never got over it and still waited for her. and maybe that was why her fellow f1 teammates was so against her constant want and longing for her mum. this will chronical francisca's life when she's a kid, teenager and now an adult with her own family.

warnings : parent abandonment, mentions of emotional childhood abuse, tears, pregnancy, happy ending

a/n : i love the song "she waits" by supernatural's rob benedict's band louden swain. even though i cannot personally relate to the song since i did not experience either parent abandoning me and my brother, i still love it and think it's a gorgeous song with so much emotional meaning to those who can relate to the song. also yes, i have made this into an f1 one-shot don't @ me

a/n : reader is french and husband's name is hayden.

have faith, promises were made. you just take care and behave, you left and now you are saved, the path it walks you away.

francisca shouldn't be upset anymore. it was no longer news that francisca's mum left her and emotionally abused her when she was a much younger kid. now as a teenager, it still hurt her feelings when her mum fell through on a promise she had made to her daughter and the rest of her siblings. francisca's mum was the best at giving excuses after making countless promises of coming back to her family.

"...allez cisca, aie confiance. elle nous a promis…maman nous a promis qu'elle serait là, alors elle l'est aussi!" julian, francisca's younger brother was so hopeful and it broke her heart as she sighed c'mon cisca, have faith. she promised us...mummy promised us that she'd be here so she has too!

"je sais qu'elle nous l'a promis, julian, mais bébé, elle n'a jamais tenu ses promesses," francisca sighed as julian sniffled, upset that his older sister was telling the truth i know she promised us julian but bub, she's ever ever followed through on these promises

of course, because julian was still young, the youngest of the dubois' siblings, he still had faith and belief in his mum. he still couldn't understand why all his older siblings were so against their maman. he didn't know why they were always so mad at her and why they'd constantly spew their hate for the woman that gave birth to them and then just left them.

"je sais…je veux juste… je veux juste ma maman…" julian cried softly as francisca felt awful for the little boy who had no idea why their mother just up and left i know...i just...i just want my mumma

"…je connais bubba, moi aussi… je le sais aussi…" francisca sighed as she picked up her brother and hugged him tightly i know bubba, i do too...i do too...

just like she was told to do by her dad, francisca took care of herself and she behaved. her mum left and she was saved and now the path was left for her to walk it and see where it took her. whether that was to her dream of joining formula one as the first female driver in decades or not. of course, she'd always wait for her mum, she'd wait for her for eternity but she knew her mum would never come back. especially when it was clear that her mum never loved her and the kids she gave birth to. or the man she married. it was clear she wanted a whole new life for herself so, that's what she did. and now, it was up to her now ex-husband to pick up the pieces that were broken forever.

and meanwhile the house is empty, the floors lay naked and weary. the walls, barely hanging on, carry on and she waits for you.

francisca never thought she'd see this house again. today, francisca was back in montmatre, france due to summer break and being begged by her husband who wanted to visit her hometown. and because she couldn't say no since the rest of her family still lived in montmatre, she decided that after some breakfast and a slow morning, she'd take her husband on the drive from their apartment in monaco up to montmatre and check it out. see if it still looked the same or see if her dad had changed it like he had planned to do since the day his wife abandonded the family and his kids. even though she genuinely never thought she'd ever want to see the house again, her ego was forcing her to check it out. especially after being told by her husband that he wanted to see where she grew up. because even though she and her husband were married, she had waited this long for him to visit montmatre because of everything in regards to her mum. just to see if it would still have the painful connotations it did before she decided to leave montmatre when she was seventeen for monaco to further her fight in getting into formula one.

so, it shouldn't have surprised her and made her heart physically hurt when she got out of her car and walked to the front door to see the house as it looked now. but it did make her heart physically hurt. the house was empty. the floors laid naked, weary and worn in from all the abuse it had been given by her and her siblings. the walls, were barely hanging on. the wallpaper clearly ripped off so aggressively that it had basically destroyed the walls as well. and even though francisca shouldn't think this and hadn't thought of her in years, she still waited for her mum even though she had carried on with her life without her. she still yearned to be loved and appreciated by that woman. if anything, she just wanted to know why. why did that woman decide to marry that man, have all those kids and then just decide one day that she was just going to leave.

sniffling, francisca was embarrassed as her husband rested his chin on her shoulder, "...you alright baby?" hayden's soft voice whispered behind her in english as francisca held back the sob that was waiting to be heard

"no...i just...i don't get it...i don't understand why we weren't enough for her, you know? were we not good kids? was dad not a good husband?" francisca's voice shook as hayden sighed, turning his wife around and hugging her properly

"i know babe. i know what it feels like...and i highly doubt it was your guys' fault. i think a hundred per cent it was her fault. you were more than enough for her, the whole family was, and she didn't know how to appreciate that. it scared her that she could have people that loved her and she ran away because she didn't how to deal with it like an adult," hayden whispered as francisca nodded her head and smiled at her husband

she knew the pain of her husband's own abandonment by his dad and how that affected him. which was why it was so easy for hayden to comfort francisca when she'd get upset about her mum's abandonment. so she was glad that when she told that side of her to hayden, she felt safe knowing that he could relate to her, as depressing and so dependent it sounds, it meant that they both had something traumatic that they could relate to. it was something they could bond over because they knew what it felt like to be abandoned by a parent, by someone who was supposed to love unconditionally and love them.

"yeah...she was probably scared but, why couldn't she just be the one to break the generational trauma? why does it have to be me and my siblings?" francisca now felt mad as hayden sighed, biting his lip as he shook his head

"i don't know darling but, if you don't break the generational trauma right now, then who will?" hayden spoke as francisca nodded her head, knowing she couldn't argue with that so she didn't

"no one would. it'll continue happening each generation that's created so, the cycle ends here," francisca breathed in heavily as she clenched her fists as hayden smiled, feeling proud of his wife

"atta girl. let's go, we don't need to be here anymore," hayden smiled as he held his hand out for his wife as the benedicts then left the house that held many a bad memory

last night you left like a bird, fly away and never be heard. the wind, it's cold and absurd but man, you gave her your word.

as francisca and the rest of the dubois family slept peacefully, there was a sudden slam of the front door. this made all the siblings jolt awake as francisca clambered out of her bed, down the hall, down the stairs and to the front door whilst the rest of the brothers and sisters fell back asleep. where her father, john dubois stood as he sobbed. wailing for his wife, hollie-anne dubois to come back as he opened the door back up again after hollie-anne had slammed it shut. begging for her to not leave him and the family. apologising if he had done something wrong that caused her to up and leave, abandoning their children. and this worried francisca. as the third oldest child but first oldest of the girls, she rushed to be with her dad. wanting to comfort him and wanting to know what had happened.

"...papa? que fais-tu? qu'est-ce qui ne va pas?" an exhausted francisca muttered as she cuddled up next to her dad at the front door that was opened for the dark early morning hours to see daddy? what are you doing? what's wrong?

"ahh…cisca, chérie! que faites-vous ici? tu devrais dormir!" john sniffled, trying to wipe away his tears before kneeling down to his young daughter's height ahh...cisca, honey! what are you doing here? you should be sleeping!

"j'ai entendu la porte d'entrée claquer, ça m'a fait peur…où est maman? est-ce elle qui a claqué la porte d'entrée?" francisca was scared, sure, her mum wasn't a great mum but that was still her mum and she adored her mum when she shouldn't be i heard the front door slam, it scared me...where's mummy? was it her that slammed the front door?

"ouais chérie. c'est maman qui a claqué la porte d'entrée…" john whimpered, not even trying to stay strong as francisca's eyes started to tear up as well, her dad's big oversized shirt she was wearing as her pyjamas made her look even smaller as john looked at her yeah honey. it was mummy that slammed the front door

"…où est-elle allée ? est-ce que maman va revenir?" francisca whimpered as her eyes welled with tears and her bottom lip shook as john shook his head, closing his eyes where did she go? is mummy going to come back?

"je ne pense pas, petite fille. elle semblait à peu près certaine qu'elle n'allait pas revenir…" john then shivered, as did francisca, the wind cold and absurd for this time of year as hollie-anne vowed to never do the very thing her own mother did to her i don't think so baby girl. she seemed pretty certain that she wasn't going to come back

"...mais…mais elle a promis qu'elle ne partirait pas…son petit doigt m'a promis qu'elle ne ferait pas ce que grand-mère a fait..." francisca's teary voice broke john's heart because he remembered that pinky promise that hollie-anne made with francisca when she was actually somewhat of a nice mum but...but she promised she wouldn't leave...she pinky promised me she wouldn't do want grandmummy did

"...je sais qu'elle l'a fait, petite fille, mais... j'ai peur que ta maman ne soit pas douée pour tenir ses petites promesses...." john trailed off as he finally picked up his eldest daughter to bring her back into the house since it was below freezing and it was getting late i know she did baby girl but...i'm afraid your mummy is not good at keeping her pinky promises

but francisca wriggled out of her dad's grip and she stepped out to the front porch step where she and her father were not even a minute ago. tears streaming down her small little cheeks as she just looked into the darkness of the montmatre chill and she waited. she waited as long as she could before john knew better to leave his daughter out of the house like this. bringing francisca back inside the house was a struggle but once he picked her up and brought her inside, closing and then locking the front door, she couldn't fight anymore. she was too weak and exhausted, falling asleep out of pure exhaustion of her tears on her daddy's shoulder as he walked them upstairs and into daddy's room. john knew his daughter wouldn't be able to stomach falling back asleep in her own bed. so, he let his six-year-old daughter sleep in his bed with her for the next four months, right up until she turned seven.

and meanwhile the house is empty, the floors lay naked and weary. the walls, barely hanging on, carry on and she waits for you.

moving into a new house with her boyfriend hayden should have excited francisca. it was a happy occasion. francisca left paris to move out of france and live in monaco with her boyfriend. however, walking into this new house felt eerily similar to her childhood home back in montmartre, france. the one that haunted the adult in her sleep every night. the one that her father and youngest brother julian still lived in. the one that took years for her father to get rid of everything that had connotations to his ex-wife that just left that one evening with no other word of warning but a measly letter that john had later found after francisca had finally cried herself to sleep that night that hollie-anne left. but that was exactly it, no matter where francisca moved to, every single house she's moved into, it reminded her of her mother. especially when it was a house that was empty, the floors naked with no rugs or carpets or worn in from the years of it being lived in. the walls were new and pristine but to francisca, she saw the walls in the same way she saw herself, barely hanging on.

"...cisca, bébé, tu dois arrêter de faire ça à chaque fois qu'on déménage. tu te tues à petit feu en pensant que partout où on va c'est montmartre et ta mère..." hayden sighed, feeling bad that his girlfriend felt like this because he knew exactly what it felt like, he too had a parent abandon him cisca, babe, you need to stop doing this every time we move houses. you're slowly killing yourself by thinking everywhere we go is montmartre and your mum

it was his dad that abandonded hayden and his family but, he still knew what parental abandonment felt like. he had to live with it and still lives with it every single day but, he doesn't let it constantly control his life. he wasn't doing what francisca does which is every new place they move into, bring in the memory of her mother that left.

"...je sais que je dois arrêter mais je…je ne peux pas ! je ne sais pas comment!" francisca sighed as she plopped herself onto the new velvet couch - which, when she really thought about it, was definitely nothing like the couch she had in her childhood home in montmartre i know i need to stop but i...i just can't! i don't know how!

"yes you do, francisca, you just don't want to stop it. and i know that because i did the same thing for a little while too but, i eventually stopped it because i realised i knew how to stop it, i just didn't want to because i thought if i stopped bringing my dad into every situation that my world would end. but, as soon as i stopped bringing dad into everything and waiting for him, my life became better and i didn't think of him everywhere i went. and i was so much happier knowing that i could live without him and that i no longer had to wait for someone who was never going to come back..." hayden was exhausted, hence the english response and not french, but not of his girlfriend but of the pain she was putting herself through every single day

hayden really did love francisca but he didn't love that she couldn't let go of the woman that abandoned her. all because somewhere inside of her, there was still the little six-year-old francisca that stood outside that front door in a cold montmartre chill waiting for her mummy to come home the very same evening she up and left.

"...you're right hayden. i do know how to stop it and i don't want to stop it because if i do stop it, i feel like i'll never get the answers i deserved. the answers that that little girl all those years ago deserved...and i want answers hayden, i want to know why she decided to leave! i want to know why she thought it was a good idea to just leave my family alone in the late night montmartre chill. i want to know what we did that made her leave us!" francisca cried in english as hayden softened immediately, not that he was fighting her or mad, he just hated seeing the hurt and pain that was still etched on his girlfriend's face

"i know babe but that's not healthy. and it's not going to do anything to actually help you. even though it may seem like closure, it's not actually going to help you. it's only going to make you fall into a deeper spiral of the what ifs," hayden soothed as he pulled francisca in for a hug as she nodded her head

"yeah...you're right..." francisca whispered as she sniffled and pulled out of the hug as she then saw all the boxes filled with everything that she and hayden had brought with them to fill their new house with

"...well, how about we make this house a home? it shouldn't stay empty cause then that'll be boring..." francisca smiled as hayden's eyes lit up with joy as he nodded his head

"..that's an amazing idea, cisca. i'd love to do that, let's start with this room we're in now and go from there..." hayden smiled as francisca nodded her head as her tears were gone and her joy had returned

even though today was a win, tomorrow was a whole other story because she was always going to wait for her mum. but, right now, she didn't feel like she needed to because it was clear that right now, she wasn't going to come back. and francisca was okay with that because she was with hayden and in a new house where her mother wasn't.

she can't hear anything they're saying, she can't believe what is true. it doesn't make sense what they're saying, she can't see anyone but you.

in formula one, which she had finally reached, in every single interview, the main topic of questions for francisca was in regards to her mum and the abandonment from her. and there was a reason for that. francisca welcomed those questions to be asked because she felt no reason to hide or shy away from it now she was in formula one. however, it was something the rest of the grid was protective about when it came to francisca. it was honestly very sweet at how protective those guys got in regards to their fellow driver when she was asked those questions. but, since it was a major part of who she was as francisca and not just who she was as a driver, it only made sense that those around her allowed her to be asked those questions.

however, one huge thing that francisca told her fellow drivers was that her mum was dead, not that she was abandoned by her mum. that was why the other drivers thought francisca's mum was dead. whenever francisca had a press conference or an interview with the other drivers, majority of the media interviewers knew not to question her about her mum when they were around. every driver thought that francisca's mum was an angel of a human and had sadly passed away when she was a child because that's what she had led them all to believe. she couldn't cope with telling them the truth so she just twisted it into a little white lie that had now been twisted a little too much to the point that francisca was struggling with her lie.

and in regards to the abandonment on francisca's mum, it was because she no longer wanted to be a mum. it was as simple as that really. it wasn't anything that john dubois had done, it was nothing that the kids had done, it had everything to do with the fact that hollie-anne no longer felt like she could be a mum without hurting those she loved. and she selfishly thought the best thing to change that would be to just pack up her things and leave late one evening in the freezing montmartre chill. with the knowledge that john would do everything he could to beg for her to come back knowing that she wouldn't. and as you can imagine, this devastated francisca and her family. it also caused so many fights in her family that it broke the family up. to the point where the older children, excluding francisca, left and the youngest and francisca stayed with their father. that was until francisca had to leave since she had gotten further within the levels of motorsport and was getting closer and closer to reaching formula one. and, also because she hoped that if she became a better racer that she would run into her mum. however, francisca was still waiting for the day she'd run into her mum as it hadn't happened yet. and it discouraged her...

...that was...until she saw someone during a chit chat with max verstappen, carlos sainz jr and lando norris. and the woman she had seen looked exactly like her mum. she couldn't verify if it was her mum but, it gave francisca hope that it was her mum. and because she was so hyperfixated on the woman that could be her mother, she couldn't hear anything that her teammates were saying to her. she couldn't believe what the potential truth could be. the truth that she could have found her mum during an f1 race, finally, after over a decade of looking.

max, lando and carlos all kept on trying to get her attention but it fell on deaf ears as they watched the way francisca tried to see if she could look at the older woman's face. because that was the only thing she could see. she couldn't see anyone but her...

...until the woman turned around fully, her eyes widened before softening as she smiled towards francisca as it was someone from williams racing. but, because francisca had full faith that it was her mum, wearing williams gear to support her daughter, she had no idea until the woman walked away before realising that it was just someone from williams.

"...i...i am so sorry guys..." francisca stammered, remembering that she was in conversation with max, lando and carlos

"...it's fine, cisca...we're just worried about you, what happened back there? you are usually so chill and relaxed but this entire conversation you've been distracted by that williams staff member. what's wrong?" max was worried as were lando and carlos, sure it was annoying that they had been ignored but it wasn't the end of the world

they weren't spilling anything important that was so secretive they couldn't repeat it if francisca did actually want to be told. it was just some general gossip that they had heard from around the paddock and different hospitalities and they were wanting to know francisca's take.

"i...i thought she was my mum..." francisca stammered as the three looked at each other and then back at francisca in confusion

"...your mum? i thought you told us that she had died...that was definitely not your mum, francisca!" lando was shocked and confused as francisca scoffed a laugh and provided the truth

"i lied lando. my mum's not dead, that i know of. she could very well be dead now but, i wouldn't know because she abandonded me and my family when i was six. she left one night, in the early hours after it had struck midnight. i was asleep when i had heard her slam the door shut, it had scared me so it woke me up and i had found my dad in hysterics almost as he had opened the door again. begging for mum to come back home even though i'm sure he knew that she wasn't going to. it was awful honestly, knowing i do have a mum but wants nothing to do with me, my dad or my siblings. it makes you wonder if everything you've ever done in your life was a mistake... and she's been gone ever since and that was why i fought as hard as i did to get into formula one...because, if i raced around the world, there was always a reason for me to believe that she could be watching the race, watching me and i'd see her again..." francisca trailed off as the three watched on in sadness for their best friend

"...but you never came into contact with her even though you saw her in everyone you came into contact with..." max finished as francisca nodded her head as she breathed out shakily, tears welling in her eyes at the memory of every race she had done just hoping she'd bump into her mum

"...yeah...that's about right..." francisca sniffled as max pulled his best friend in for a hug as the distraught girl mustered a smile

"...why didn't you tell us sooner sweetheart? we could've asked christian to go and look for her..."

"...no, you couldn't have and i wouldn't have let you. i can't keep doing this and think that my mum's going to be there when i wait for her. because she won't be there and i have to finally take that as a sign to stop waiting for her..." francisca trailed off and the tears streamed down her face

little girl hold on and wait, it's not fair the fairness is overrated. wait and you will be saved, the path it walks in this way.

francisca smiled as cheers and laughter could be heard all around her as she sat onstage during a fan zone in france but this time, it was paris so she wouldn't have to see her childhood home this time. it was nearing the end of her panel with her williams teammate logan, and ferrari's carlos and charles when a little girl all of a sudden shuffled up to the microphone.

"...wait, wait, guys, don't end the questions just yet, i am so sorry but, i think this little girl has a question..." francisca felt bad for stopping the moderator who was about to halt all questions but, she saw a little girl walk near the microphone stand and it was obvious she had a question

and the moderator nodded her head and stayed at the microphone stand as the little girl made it, "...hello sweetheart, what's your name and what's your question?" francisca asked softly, inching towards the stage's end even more to see the little girl clearer

the little girl smiled with a shy energy to her as she breathed into the microphone, "my name is francesca and...and my question is for francisca..." francesca, the little girl spoke in her little high-pitched voice as the crowd cooed, francisca, logan, charles and carlos doing the same thing

"...hello francesca, what a beautiful name, you almost have the same name as me but my name is francisca!" francisca smiled at the little girl who lit up at hearing that her name was almost the same as her favourite f1 driver as she then asked her question

"well, my question is, whilst you are an amazing driver and such an inspiration for myself and so many girls, i wanna know, who's the most influential woman in your life since i know you speak about not having your mum around. since i can relate to you because i don't know my mum either so i...i was just wondering who the most influential woman in your life is because for me, you are the most influential woman in my life..." francesca got teary at the end of her question as that broke francisca's heart as logan, charles and carlos watched closely, their hearts breaking as well

francesca, the little girl only looked to be eight...maybe nine but, if francesca was nine, nearing ten, she was awfully small for her age. and it broke francisca's heart into two because whilst she was a lot younger, six, when her mum left her and her family, when she was francesca's age, she was still very much struggling with the fact that she didn't have a mum to run to for help or even an older sister since she was the older sister in the family, she didn't have a girl older than her to run to for help.

"...oh honey, are you okay? do...do you need a hug?" francisca moved closer to the edge of the stage as she watched little francesca start to cry, no longer able to hold her tears in anymore as the audience stayed quiet

francesca nodded her head as she slightly stepped away from the microphone so it wouldn't pick up her little sobs. francisca stepped down from the stage and walked the two steps to where the moderator and francesca was and picked the little girl up and hugged her tightly. it was obvious to logan, charles, carlos, hayden and the fans in the audience who knew francisca's story, that she saw herself in little francesca and how unfair it was that she was still hearing these stories of little kids being abandonded and left behind by either one of or both of their parents. a few minutes later and little francesca had stopped crying, only little sniffles could be heard and francisca was content in knowing that the little girl could go back to her seat back to her dad who had come to the grand prix fan zone with her. it was obvious that little francesca's dad had also been crying during that exchange because not only had francesca's mum abandonded her, francesca, but she had also abandonded her husband and the father of their children. so it wasn't shocking that little francesca's dad was also crying and it wasn't something that needed to be made into a scene either because it was a father having his heart break as his little girl tells her favourite group of drivers that she can relate to one of the drivers who was also just like her, a little girl that had dreamt of becoming an f1 driver. but, again, it's stories like these that francisca and the rest of her teammates hear on the daily that makes what they do months out of the year completely worth it in the end.

"well, francesca, to answer your question properly, i have to say, the most influential woman in my life is probably either my godmother susie wolff or my friend max's mum sophie! and you said that i'm your most influential woman in your life?" francisca pauses as francesca nods her head to the driver's question as her heart flutters

"yes, you're my favourite driver and who i want to be when i grow up, francisca!" francesca responds as coos are heard around the fan zone as francisca places her hand over her heart

"aw, you are so sweet, thank you francesca! well, i want to be like you when i'm older! but um, yeah, because i was abandonded by my mum when i was six, i was the older sister so i didn't have an older sister to be influenced by and looked after because that was my job for my younger brothers and sisters when my mum left back home in montmartre. so, i was very, very young when she left but it was around that time that i was taking karting very seriously and i was also getting very good at it. and it was then that i had seen women like susie and sophie that i just fell in love with and just constantly looked up to because they were doing the things that i wanted to do as well as i started to grow up and get older. and it took me quite a few years to get to that point because i was always looking out for the woman that i so despertely wanted to be influenced by that i knew was never going to come home so it was useless to wait for her when she had always had this plan of hers to just leave and never return. so, yeah, i'd have to say that my two most influential women in my life are susie wolff and sophie kumpen..." francisca trailed off as she smiled at the little girl and her father who clinged onto every single world francisca had said but it was clear that they weren't the only ones

it looked as though the entire fan zone, the interviewers and other drivers included, had clinged onto every single word and you could hear a pin drop. because it was unfair but if little francisca could wait and this was the life she lived now, so could little francesca. because little francesca's life was going to change forever and in the best way and it was her mum's loss and that she was never going to know about it or see it because she made the decision to leave rather than stay and be her daughter's most influential woman in her life.

and meanwhile the house is empty, the floors lay, naked and weary. the walls barely hanging on, carry on and she waits for you.

francisca hadn't ever been happier in her life. she had just found out that she was pregnant with her and hayden's first baby. meaning because of her new pregnancy, she'd no longer be able to race for the next few seasons. and she still had to tell hayden and the way she surprised hayden was in the empty spare room at the end of the upstairs hallway that was next to their bedroom. the room, that used to lay naked and weary was now decorated from top to bottom with everything that had got to do with babies and having a baby. it was colourful, it was vibrant, it was happy. it reflected the new joy of francisca becoming a mum after always being scared of being one since the only mum she ever knew was a mum that lied and eventually ran away, never to be seen again but always waited on. and that wasn't what francisca wanted to be as a mum. she wanted to be a mum that told the truth, that stayed even with her job in formula one and was always one message or phone call away if help was needed, and a mum that didn't need to be waited on. a mum that didn't break her pinky promises.

"...cisca? bébé, où es-tu?" hayden giggled as he entered the house after a long work day as francisca bit her lip in excitement cisca? babe, where are you?

"à l'étage bébé, dans la pièce d'amis à côté de notre chambre," francisca tried to hide the excitement in her voice but it was clear that it couldn't be hidden way as hayden giggled upstairs babe, in the spare room next to our bedroom

he made his way upstairs to the spare room that was always empty, with confusion as to why his wife was up there. but, because he was too tired to question it, he didn't. however, what he saw when he made his way into the room made so many questions fly through his head that it almost made him burst.

"wait...is this...are you pregnant, cisca?" hayden questioned in english as his eyes widened as francisca bit her lip and nodded her head

"uh-huh! all five tests said positive!" francisca burst into excited squeals and tippy taps as hayden laughed in joy, pulling his wife in for a hug as tears welled in his eyes

"oh my gosh, baby, you're pregnant pregnant!" hayden sobbed with a giggle as francisca giggled and nodded her head

"mmm, i'm pregnant pregnant!" francisca sighed with contentment as hayden then relaxed his shoulders as he noticed that francisca wasn't worried like she used to be

"and...you're not...worried? not even about having to surrender your f1 seat for maybe the next year?" hayden questioned, pulling out of the hug as francisca shook her head

"no, babe, oh my gosh no! i'm not worried at all. if this was happening at the beginning of our relationship or even the start of our marriage then, hell yes, i would be freaking out and thinking about not wanting it. but, because, i've stopped waiting for her and expecting her to be there when i know she won't, i feel so much better and i'm so excited hayden. i'm so excited to be a mum and for you to be a dad...even if it means i have to give up my f1 seat for a little bit..." francisca sighed as she sat her and hayden down on the bed as hayden released all the stress he had just gave himself

"...i'm glad you're excited about this because you will be such an amazing mum, cisca. i have no worries at all that what happened to you when you were a kid is not going to happen to this baby...to our baby. because i'm not going to leave this baby and you're not going to leave this baby, we've already broken the generational trauma to make sure it never ever happens again to the future children and their childrens children. we're doing a great thing here, cisca and i cannot wait for it. if anything, we're no longer waiting for our deadbeat mum and dad but our little baby," hayden smiled with tears in his eyes as francisca nodded her head as she gave her husband a kiss

"we're waiting for our little benedict," francisca whispered as hayden nods his head as he then goes to his knees to kiss the non-existant baby bump

she waits for you, she waits

after waiting eight and a half months, in december on a cold evening in monte-carlo, monaco during christmas with the leclerc's, verstappen's and norris' families that francisca gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. the baby girl was named tallulah eleanor benedict and was healthy at a steady five pounds and eight ounces.

hearing the cries of little tallulah sounded like the angels in heaven. whilst it may have been exhausting for francisca and painful to deliver a baby into this world after it living in the womb for nearly nine months, it was still a beautiful thing. and something that francisca and hayden could definitely see themselves doing again if they wanted to give tallulah some siblings in the future. but, right now, tallulah had just arrived and it was all about her.

"...here she is, well done francisca. you did an amazing job, does the father want to cut the cord?" the attending midwife turned to the husband as hayden smiled and nodded his head

the midwife offered him the sheers and he cut the cord clean and perfectly as tallulah was properly swaddled up and returned to her maman and papa.

"isn't she just gorgeous, hayden? we made her, we actually created an entire little human being!" francisca muttered, clearly still loopy and delirious from her epidural as hayden could only smile with teary eyes at his wife

"she's beautiful, francisca, just like her maman. and yes, we did make her, we made a gorgeous human being who looks like the perfect mix of her maman and papa!" hayden smiled as he caressed both francisca and then tallulah as the midwife returned

"sorry to disturb you maman and papa but, i think the godparents want to be introduced to their goddaughter..." the midwife smiled as hayden smiled as did francisca as they nodded their heads

although it was tradition for the grandparents to meet the new baby first, hayden and francisca didn't fly that way. of course, hayden and francisca both loved their singular parent, of course they did. but, because they had tallulah in monte-carlo, monaco, not in either of the countries that hayden's mum and francisca's dad currently were, it just made sense that the godparents and other uncles and aunties met baby tallulah first. since mrs benedict and mr dubois were on flights over to monte-carlo which meant that it was still a few hours before they'd land in monaco and then arrive to the hospital to then meet the baby.

which leads to the question that everyone was curious about and that was who the godparents to baby tallulah was. and, the godparents of tallulah are max & kelly and carlos & rebecca. which, everyone should have theoretically seen coming but, it was still a shock when hayden and francisca announced it. especially considering she didn't pick her fellow william's teammate, logan.

"...of course, they can come in," francisca smiled as she sat her and baby tallulah up in the hospital bed as max & kelly and carlos & rebecca walked in

the two couples were confused that all four of them were asked to come in rather than just one of the couples. but, they didn't argue and they all cooed in adoration for the new f1 grid baby.

"oh my gosh...cisca, hayden...she's gorgeous! what's little bubba's name?" kelly cooed as she looked at the baby lovingly, rebecca, carlos and max doing the same

"thank you kelly, her name's tallulah eleanor benedict..." francisca trailed off as she looked down at the little girl she was cradling that was hers and her husbands

"...tallulah eleanor...that's such a perfect name for a perfect little princess!" kelly cooed again as max could tell his girlfriend was getting baby fever even though they already had penelope as carlos could tell that rebecca was trying hard to hide her own baby fever as well

"she's gorgeous cisca but, why do you need all four of us in here? i thought you only needed the godparents..." carlos asked in confusion as francisca and hayden giggled as little tallulah wiggled and made little noises

"...exactly...all four of you are tallulah's godparents," francisca smiled as they all looked at their best friend and teammate as though she had four eyes

"wait, that's allowed? i only thought only one couple were allowed to be a child's godparents..." max trailed off in confusion as to be fair, he did have a fair point

"...technically, that is true and if there is any "paperwork" that needs only one pair of emergency contacts, it'll be you and kelly, alright max. but, if it needs a second pair of emergency contacts, that's where carlos and rebecca come in and why i want tallulah to have two godmums and two goddads cause she already has enough aunties and uncles..." francisca trailed off as they all giggled but it was clear that it really touched both couples that they both had been chosen as tallulah's legal guardians if anything were to happen to francisca and hayden

"...well, she does have a lot of aunties and uncles and cousins but, that's the best way to do it. you wouldn't want to bring a kid up with no one around them," max smiled as he moved over and hugged francisca and placing his gigantic hand on baby tallulah's teeny tiny head

"that's very true, max, very true," francisca smiled in content as she looked at everyone around her plus the others in the waiting room and her dad and mrs benedict who were also on their way as well

she had never felt this amount of love before but she loved it but she loved her new baby girl the most. baby tallulah was what francisca had been waiting for, not her mother.

fin

okay, man, writing this in an f1 light was difficult but i'm kinda glad i did if you know what i mean! like it's not perfect but it's not bad ya know? and sorry i didn't really add in a lot of the f1 aspect, especially considering the reader was a driver as well but that kind of was forgotten so i do apologise lol

#formula one #angst but happy ending #f1 grid x platonic female driver reader #parental abandonment #emotional childhood abuse #tears #pregnancy #max verstappen #lando norris #carlos sainz #should have included logan a lot more rip

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waeirfaahl · 4 months ago

Text

Some little thoughts about Hellfire and its singer

Quite unexpected guest for my duscussing. I don't think that I'll tell something new about this antagonist and his song, so I'll focus on some tiny moments that I find interesting. Maybe somebody noticed this, but I'll mention this. Still this character is one of those, who kinda formed my tastes in what the good and threatening enemy has to be.

Judge Claude Frollo is awesome in his monstrosity. He is really well-written not just as antagonist, but also as a character. The way how he is presented, how he looks, how he acts and how deep and cold his voice, I would genuinely believe that judge Frollo is a manifestation of the unnatural death. Not natural one, which is a force of nature that values a life and keeps balance in own quite severe way, but exactly the unnatural death that exists due to the ignorance and malice of human nature. He embodies all dark aspects of human nature, yet he is self-contained, deep and realistic character, what makes him so terrifying.

Why he is the way he is — racist, sexist, chauvinist, hypocrite, narrow-minded fanatic, liar and murderer? I don't think that we need a backstory, because the answer is simple — Frollo is the result and the product of both his time (Middle Ages, hence religious dogmas) and his own decisions. Although, the line about his desire to make the world "pure from vice and sin" and the fact that he is a judge for like 20+ years (and has no claims for getting more power) imply a king is okay with this, so there's the possibility that Frollo could start as more or less devoted, fair-minded and good in his work (and that France really was in horrible conditions, plus wars), but than older he got, than more he got ruthless and blind to his own mistakes and crimes, using his authority for oppression and literal genocide instead of punishing exactly criminals. And, well, his words about cruelty of the world make sense, so you can agree with him in that aspect. I can't tell for sure, whether Frollo is a psychopath or sociopath, although he has some traits of narcissism (at the same time the only living being that Frollo genuinely liked and cared about is his black stallion Snowball); and his view of religion and rationalizing in some senses has some parallels with worldview of Oliver Cromwell, but what I can tell for sure — his arc is in falling into the madness due to own narrow, fanatical, sick and twisted mind despite many events that could change him and save from this path. I don't know, whether the authors did that intentionally or accidentally, but the story (and ephemeral "divine forces") gives to the old judge at least two moments for redemption — the first chance, of course, is Quasimodo, and how Frollo could learn compassion and forgiveness, but no, he psychologically abuses Quasimodo and feeds own ego, using the blatant gaslighting, and the second chance is, of course, Esmeralda, and how Frollo, falling in love with her, could change for her and also change his own worldview, realizing and accepting own imperfection (although, I find it nearly impossible, because in Esmeralda's eyes he was and always will be a monster, a murderer and a tormentor — from another side, at least, in the animated film he has no sadomasochistic tendencies he had in the book; and I find his conflict in the animated film more interesting, deep and complex, because in the book it is basically just "I am actually a priest, my job forbids to me to be interested in women"). But we know, what happened instead — Frollo corrupts the possiblity of love and turns it into the pure possessiveness and wrath, viewing it as a witchcraft that causes lust (because Frollo is absolutely sure that all Romani are demons, and there can't be love from them and/or to them, only dirty carnal pleasure). He ignored and failed everything, blamed everyone and everything in own mistakes and crimes, he lied to himself and hence he was the reason of own demise.

I can also assume that for Frollo to accept the idea of sincere love toward Esmeralda means to encounter his biggest fears — to realize and to accept the fact that he deprived himself of normal life, free and full of happiness, and spent all his own life in self-restrictions, self-reproach, lying to himself, denying crimes for "greater plan" (making world pure from vice and corruption) and also in committing various sins — especially oppression and mass murders of people, where many of them were innocent. To accept his feelings and possibillity of love toward Esmeralda means for him to consider Romani people as equals to French citizens of Paris, to doubt his worldview and religious dogmas and to accept how wrong he was all his life, to reject everything he knew all his life, as well to encounter the painful fear — that Esmeralda will never love him after what he has done, and he isn't able to actually earn her love and forgiveness. Not to mention that he is already old man (50-65, I guess), while she is young (19-23), so in some senses there's also envy. So he tries to convince himself in the opposite, he wants to believe that Esmeralda herself can choose and love him, or else she is a fire demon, who wants to kill him, so she must be destroyed. Frollo's main animator was Kathy Zielinski, and she perfectly nailed his nature and also added few subtle details in his animation and expressions. For example, you can notice some kind of hesitation and regret during "God have mercy on her..." line after he burned Esmeralda's scarf, considering her escape from the church as the rejection of his attention... ah, not kidding, that's terrifying — imagine, you're young girl with own life, and at the same time some unknown to you man (or the person, who tries to erase your people) draws his future with you, creates the idolized image of you and gets furious that you "rejected" him despite the fact that you even never interacted with him and promised nothing to him (and you have no idea about this creep and what's in his mind). Another interesting detail that I noticed in Frollo's animation, and I'd like to ask Kathy about this — it seems that Frollo is left-handed inborn, but later he trained to be right-handed. Because he uses his left hand very often and confidently and exactly during the moments, when you will use exactly your working and active hand.

So, about Hellfire. For real, for me it was mind-blowing. The beauty of this song is in psychology and the fact that we can see what happens in Frollo's twisted and sick mind, what he feels and thinks and why — the two opposite feelings toward the one person, contradictional feelings because of Frollo's beliefs and view on Esmeralda's origin, her belonging to those he killed his whole life. The core of his song is not a lust (I'd say that it is not the case despite the fetishism with Esmeralda's hair and her scarf that he hid and wore on his chest), it's exactly the possessiveness, mixed with blatant fanaticism, egocentrism and victimblaming. Basically "Just fear me, love me, do as I say, and I'll be your slave!" thing. And now I'll try to explain, why I think so. In the animated film, at least, I can understand, why Frollo was interested in Esmeralda — she is not just a young pretty girl, she is smart, she is kind, she is brave, her spirit is free, strong and untamed, she can stand for herself, and she dared to oppose him. So no wonder, why he could be interested in her — there's something more than "just a beautiful body" (and it doesn't contradict to the movie's message and why Esmeralda ended up with Phoebus — he saw Esmeralda as an equal and living person, psychologically he was the only mature man in contrast to Frollo and Quasimodo, and at the same time Quasimodo is more mature than Frollo, because the inexperienced boy, who lived in isolation, really values Esmeralda and her choice and happiness). Because, I'm sorry, although in the book Esmeralda (or Agness, that's her true name in the book) is 15 years old, but as a character or a person she has nothing except of beautiful body, and she has no brains in the book (especially the scene with her mother near the end confirms that). And this thought came to my mind after I noticed the one certain detail in Hellfire sequence. For sure, my favourite moment of this song is "Or else let her be mine and mine alone!". It is the only scene, where Frollo dreams without obsession. It is the only tender scene with him, and it is the only scene, where he is shown vulnerable and lonely, and that makes this scene very personal and impactful. What's interesting, the early version was different, hence it gave different perception. In the early version it is the blatant lust, the carnal desire, mad obsession, because Frollo moves to Esmeralda's smoke spirit as a predator and tries to grab her exactly as a predator tries to catch and grab its prey, as well as Esmeralda here is depersonalized and... dead, she just flies and then disappears, she is just an image, not something alive, just a body instead of living person.

In contrast to this, in the final version the scene hits differently — Frollo walks to her with open arms, as well as Esmeralda's spirit, now pure and ethereal, flies to him with open arms and tenderly touchs his face, so he tries to hug her, but she disapperas, so he looks at it with sadness. The final version is more subtle and ambiguous and leaves the clear hint that Frollo really wanted to be loved by her the way he is (exactly in terms of feelings and platonic side). It shows the sadistic, racist, narcissistic, ruthless, fanatical, hypocritical and deluded sociopath from different side — as a lonely and lost person, who doesn't understand his own feelings and hence is afraid of them and despises them, and who through his narrow, ossified, sick and twisted worldview corrupts initially a pure and sincere feeling toward the brave and kind young girl and turns into a sinful and disgusting act of obsession and possessiveness, erasing any chance for alternative, depriving himself of any alternative. His line "Why I see her dancing there? Why her smoldring eyes still scorch my soul?" kinda hint that he never experienced these feelings (in the festival scene, where Esmeralda kisses Frollo for cheering up, you can notice how embarrassed, timid and meek he is at this moment, but as soon as she jokingly moves his hat on his face and runs back on the stage, he again is in anger state), they are not familliar for him, he can't understand, accept and control it, so it only makes his anger on himself and especially on Esmeralda (again victimblaming) stronger and more destructive.

And it also plays on a viewer's empathy, because even with this gorgeous scene the song and the movie give the right message — no matter what, after all what he has done he's the dangerous and irredeemable stalker and murderer. Judge Frollo is that kind of wonderful human monsters that you will enjoy to analyze, but never want to meet in real life. P.S. Speaking about backstory — maybe at Frollo's youth some gipsy woman predicted that in his next life Frollo will have lots of hot girls through his life, but at the old age he will die due to the stroke during "love play" with another young woman in one old town in the forest. And this town was Twin Peaks. P.S.s. (UPD) In early drafts there was some backstory of Frollo's hatred toward Romani people — it was some kind of self-fulfilling prophecy. When Frollo was young and became a judge and celebrated that with his friends, some old gipsy woman predicted that his ambitions will destroy him, so Frollo gets furious, because he worked hard for getting this job etc, and he considered the prophecy as a witchcraft and started to chase this old lady, so after this his hatred toward Romani has started. Basically Kung Fu Panda 2 prologue or whatever. I would more quickly assume the self-hatred or self-loath issues, caused by Frollo's own origin and the perception of Romani people as demons that must be sent back to Hell for centuries, i.e. he himself could be part gipsy (most likely 1/2 from his mother, hence lying to Quasimodo about his mother, Claude kinda talked about own mother that was "a heartless gipsy who is not capable of real love and abandoned him", so the same image he projects on Esmeralda, expecting from her the same betrayal and at the same time wanting to be loved by her). On another hand, we already had the antagonist with self-hatred issues — Judge Doom from Who Framed Roger Rabbit 1988 movie.

#disney #disney hunchback of notre dame #judge claude frollo #esmeralda disney

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hotreadingwitch · 1 year ago

Text

MADE TO LIE - the news

TW: sexism (interviewers discussing the sex tape objectify Y/n)

Y/N

Natasha’s shoulders tensed.

“I can’t believe Tony made you and Bucky make a sex tape…” she exclaimed, her voice calm but her words angry, “he’s such a fucking pervert sometimes”

“Yeah! And made you release it everywhere” Wanda added zealously.

Y/n had been close with Wanda and Natasha since she’d become an Avenger. She’d quickly built friendships with the two women as they both had their own traumas to heal from, Natasha with her past in the Red Room and Wanda with the death of her parents. Over the last few years together they’d grown beyond friends, becoming sisters in every sense of the word. She trusted them with her life, yes, that was necessary as teammates, but more than that she trusted them with her past. Having shared more details with them than anyone else at the compound they knew things that even Tony didn’t.

“I couldn’t believe it either trust me” Y/n replied back to the girls, “He was so rude before too! Telling me to get over myself and focus on the mission…”

Though she was mad, Y/n’s mind couldn’t help but drift back into the feeling of Bucky’s lips on her skin the night before, making her body warm instinctively as if he was touching her right then and there…Distracted by her thoughts, she almost missed the funny look that passed between the two women in front of her.

“What?” She questioned, “I know that look—what is it?”

“You have to tell us Y/n…” Wanda hesitated before her mouth curved into a mischievous grin.

Most of the other Avengers thought Wanda was fierce because of her powers but mostly innocent otherwise. If only they knew the truth…

“Oh God,” Y/n rolled her eyes, “You want to know if it was good or not?”

Natasha stared at her with a smirk, winking in response.

“Oh c’mon, you two are ridiculous” Y/n protested, biting down on her bottom lip to stop her oncoming smile.

“Please! He’s so dreamy”

“We want to know every detail…”

“Fine, so—“

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

“Hey Y/n,” Bruce said, blushing, “you might want to come out and see this…”

Y/n, Natasha, and Wanda quickly reached the compound’s glossy, high-tech media room after walking through the bedroom-lined halls of the complex. Her neck prickled as she entered the space, making her head turn towards the source of the feeling. Bucky stared back at her from where he sat beside Steve on the couch, his legs spread open in a masculine stance as he listened to whatever the other man was saying. The rest of the team all turned to look at her once they realized that she was standing there. Her cheeks flushed.

Bucky got up in a huff, brushing past her and the girls without a single word. It was as if her mere presence aggravated him. Her eyes must have reflected her confusion and budding embarrassment because Natasha held out her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze when Y/n took it gratefully.

“Don’t let him bother you” Steve called out, instantly diffusing the knot of tension building in her stomach.

Steve was another close friend of Y/n’s, definitely her favourite out of the guys. They’d bonded when Tony had first brought her into the Avengers initiative, saving her from the criminal life that she was forced to lead, under a notorious gang-boss in France.

“Welcome to Good Morning America” a woman on the television spoke with a crisp accent, interrupting the awkwardness, “This is Stephanie Lancaster reporting to you with the latest gossip. Recent news includes the leaked sex tape of none other than popular Avenger Y/n Y/l/n and reformed mass-murderer, the Winter Soldier, James Buchanan Barnes”

“I can’t say I expected this!” another reporter chimed in, “What is a kind and respected hero like Y/n doing with a bad boy like Barnes? Remember when she organized that charity gala for orphaned children? What has he ever done that’s good? They couldn’t be more different…”

Y/n’s cheeks flushed again, this time with a spike of anger.

A third cut him off then, adding, “I think they’re cute, and well, they’re obviously pleasing each other”

This caused the three reporters to chuckle. Wanda changed the channel but each one was the same. Y/n sat on one of the couches, letting the cool leather soothe the jumble of emotions that she was feeling as the gossipers divisively discussed everything about her from the stretch marks on her thighs to the way she moaned Bucky’s name. Interrupting her growing moodiness in an instant, she heard her voice ring out over the media room speakers, “Just. Like. That.”

“Oh my god,” Wanda said, shocked, finally just turning the TV off with a click.

“How can they even play a clip of that on television” Natasha joined in, her brows knitting together.

“Well, it’s nothing everyone hasn’t seen already” Sam chuckled.

“Meaning?” Y/n asked, her head snapping back to face her friend.

Steve sighed from behind Y/n before responding, “Not only are they broadcasting short, blurred clips of the tape on most of these channels, you two are the number one trending video on Pornhub as of this morning”

“Great…” Y/n stated, suddenly annoyed, “So every horny person in the whole country has seen me naked now?”

“I haven’t seen it Y/n” Bruce came forward, the ever-respectful gentleman, “If that makes you feel any better…”

Y/n looked to the corner expecting to see Bucky glowering before remembering that he had stormed angrily out of the room. She sighed, agitated that she was taking the brunt of the exposure alone without the man who was supposed to be her partner in all this. Of course, Bucky was coming out mostly unscathed by the media, even getting a few ‘props’ from the more sexist networks and shows. Taylor Swift had sung it best, If I was a man, then I’d be the man.

Her slumped shoulders were a visible gesture that was not missed by none other than Steve Rogers. As Y/n stood and said a quick goodbye, walking back through the empty compound halls to her room, Steve followed. When she noticed him lagging behind her she paused, allowing him time to catch up.

“Hey Steve” Y/n exhaled with a bitter laugh.

“Hey” an apologetic look painting his perfect features, “Wanna talk about it?”

They soon arrived at her room. Y/n opened the door, revealing her space to him. It was different from Bucky’s. Where his space was cool and dark, hers was warm and cozy. It had crisp white bed sheets, comfy chairs for reading, bookshelves and large windows that looked out to the forest greenery surrounding the compound, giving her a sense of calm that she had never found living in the city.

“How are you feeling?” Steve braved, his concern clear.

“I feel awful,” Y/n told him honestly, “How could Tony assign this mission to us, Steve? Bucky and I are polar opposites. We might’ve completed ‘step one’ but who knows how we’ll be able to get through the rest of the plan if he can’t even stand to be near me”

“I know Y/n, I know” he consoled before hesitating.

“C’mon Steve tell me” she smiled knowingly with an eye roll, “I know you’re dying to spit out whatever wise, old-man advice you’re about to give”

“Look” Steve began kindly, brushing off the small dig, “I know he’s an ass. I’m his best friend Y/n, I know that better than anyone but I have to say you should give him another chance. He might seem cold now but he’ll warm up soon enough…How could he not when he’s with someone as amazing as you?”

Steve never failed to make her feel better and yet the pit in her stomach remained.

“I just—” she started, “I’m scared Steve, this feels like it’s going to be the death of me…and I don’t know why”

“I don’t know what’s going on with all this exactly either Y/n, but I know you’ll figure it out”

“Thanks” she sighed again, her mood slightly improved.

“And with Bucky…”

“Yeah?”

“Be careful”

“I will Steve,” she placed a comforting hand on his, “You’re a sweetheart you know? But don’t worry, he can’t hurt me”

“Right…” Steve’s eyes flickered with something she couldn’t decipher.

He left then, going to exercise with Sam, leaving her typical comforting room cold in his wake and her mind racing.

BUCKY

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Bucky’s heart rate revved in his chest like one of Tony’s over-priced sports cars. He was practically bionic at this point, how come he still had feelings?

“Motherfucker…” he uttered his thoughts aloud as wet droplets ran down his neck to his wide shoulders and below.

The cool water was supposed to help stabilize his pounding heart not make him sink further into the thoughts that had been threatening to consume him since last night. Being intimate with Y/n had made something suspicious bloom within him. His chest tightened every time he remembered her spread open just for him, his cock pounding into her, making her wet, making her—

Two hard knocks pounded on the door to his en-suite bathroom. Steve. He was the only one with a key to his room. Better safe than sorry until the Avengers team could figure out a way for the Winter Soldier programming to be permanently removed from his mind.

Most days Bucky spent working out at the compound or hanging out with Steve and now even Sam Wilson, one of Steve’s annoying friends who’d helped them out with the HYDRA disaster a couple of years ago and later the fight between the whole team that Tony now jokingly called their ‘Civil War’. It wasn’t safe for him to be out in the world most of the time, though the compound’s therapist Dr. Janet Pashia did help him work through most elements of his past.

Bucky turned the nozzle of the shower off, cutting the steady stream of water short. In a moment of intense anger with Tony’s high-tech gadgets, he’d vented to Steve until they had replaced the thousand coloured buttons with what he considered to be a much more practical handle that simply turned the water hot and cold. He didn’t need anything lavish or extra. In all honesty, after all he had been through, he craved simplicity over anything.

“Steve” Bucky greeted with a grunt, walking out of the bathroom, a fluffy white towel hanging low on his waist.

“Save that grumpy tone for Y/n” Steve raised an eyebrow.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re smart Buck, I’m sure you can guess how your storming out today made her feel”

Bucky released a low noise of pent-up frustration.

“She just drives me mad! You should’ve heard her when we got assigned the mission Steve, her hesitance to do what clearly needs to be done pissed me off and last night—”

Bucky ran a hand through his dark hair, pulling at the wet strands in desperation before continuing,

“I’m a professional for fuck’s sake” he gritted out finally, “I wouldn’t be acting this way if I was working with Natasha or with Wanda”

Steve was silent for a beat, “Well Buck, you’re not as ‘professional’ as you used to be and we both know it”

Bucky fixed Steve with a glare that would make a lesser man faint.

“What?” Steve shrugged innocently before laughing, “Hey, that’s a good thing. I like the new you—the new/old you. Whatever you wanna call it. I like that you’re a bit of a softie these days…”

Bucky’s gaze eased but he let out a heavy sigh, “Yeah well, it doesn’t mean I want to be all soft all the time and there’s still that part of me that’s…cold, untouchable”

Steve smiled gently in that wholesome way that Bucky was sure only he could do.

“You’re getting better, that’s all that matters” he stated with confidence, “Look at me. You’re trying, more than I’ve ever seen you try at something in your life, getting checked out by all those doctors and specialists, seeing that therapist you like, keeping your mind as clear as possible. You’re doing good Bucky, whether you want to admit it or not. I can say that can’t I? I know you better than anyone”

This time his smile seemed more hopeful.

“Thanks, Steve” Bucky cleared his throat, putting a veiny hand on the other man’s shoulder and clasping it.

“But Buck, with Y/n…try and ease up on her, she deserves it”

He got up from where he sat, heading towards the door, when he turned to look back at his friend there was a knowing glint in his eye.

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#fanfiction #fanfic #marvel smut #marvel #marvel fanfic #bucky smut #james buchanan barnes #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader

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