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samusique-concrete · 9 months ago

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My favorite albums of 2023

This is not a list of the ‘best’ albums of the year. These are just my favorites. However, i need you to understand something: I don’t have the time and/or brain bandwidth to listen to and forge a bond with every single album i’d like to get to in any given year. Thus, my disclaimer is twofold — the following are my favorite records of the year, among the selection of records that i did have time to get to. I’m sure i would’ve loved many others, but i just don’t wanna be someone who’d listen to an album for the first time at the end of the year, decide it’s ‘great’, and rank it shoulder to shoulder with my favorites. It would be disingenuous.

I will now present my ten favorite records of the past year, but there’s another catch: i will only talk about four of them, and they won’t be precisely my top four either. Instead, i’m going to talk about my tenth most liked album, and then my third through to number one. It’ll make sense as the read goes on.

Let’s begin.

IN TIMES NEW ROMAN…

Queens of the Stone Age

I’ll just say this right now: there hasn’t been, to me, a better mainstream rock act than Queens of the Stone Age since at least 2002. They represent what i would say is ‘as good as it gets’ in the genre. Even now, in 2023, when frontman Josh Homme is older and naturally starting to slow down (although tracks like Paper Machete would suggest there's plenty of gas left in the tank,) he still manages to unabashedly follow his own musical compass, that which was forged decades ago by his own design.

In Times New Roman… is not one of the group’s best albums. In fact, i probably would prefer pretty much any other album in their catalog before this one, but therein lies the thing about this band: it doesn’t have to put out a mindblowing achievement of a record for it to be at least pretty good. Queens’ magic trick here is being consistent; if we were to buffoonishly rank their albums from worst to best, we’d find that the distance that separates the peak from the bottom is not at all Everest tall. That’s a hard trick to pull off.

Another point in favor of this album is its vulnerability. Infamously conceived as catharsis following a rough and tumultuous period in the frontman’s life, it was his interview on Neal Brennan’s The Blocks Podcast that really opened my eyes about this whole thing. In case it wasn’t made clear earlier, i’m a fan of the band, and as such it’s been always obvious to me that the guy’s had a complicated relationship with substances. You’d have to be deaf not to notice that. I’ve watched many interviews over the years, and i’d become accustomed to the certain type of way in which he carried himself. This is why his appearance on Blocks kind of stunned me. Here he was, nonchalantly going into a lot of detail about his drug abuse and how it has affected him and how he clearly sees how it has hurt others and also himself. Now, i don’t know the guy personally, i don’t know how he approaches these sorts of topics with people when the cameras are off, but what i do know is that that’s not the Josh Homme that he himself had constructed for years for the media to consume. The questionable performance seemed to be put to rest. This unceremoniously matured persona was refreshing to listen to: it made me appreciate the record a lot more, because he truly allowed himself to be vulnerable for once (although this feels like the next step in a process that began with 2013’s …Like Clockwork and continued with 2017’s Villains.) I’ll touch upon this a bit later, but that is, at least to me, very brave. The days of the emotionless tough guy are over, but that doesn’t mean that a very healthy dose of anti-establishment aggression has to be left by the wayside.

LIVE AT BUSH HALL

Black Country, New Road

Music isn’t movies. Therefore, it isn’t often that we get to say ‘you need to listen to the album that came before to understand this new one.’ This is the case for Live at Bush Hall.

Now, i would genuinely hate for this to add to the ongoing conversation in which the band’s past keeps taking center stage. I would much rather talk about the present and whatever the current work’s merits are. However, context is needed.

BC,NR quickly rose to indie fame thanks to the painful relatableness of their 2022 sophomore album, Ants from Up There; a beautiful, longing follow-up to their esoteric debut. The song’s lyrics were deeply personal and told what read as fictionalized autobiographical accounts of the band’s frontman’s love life. Shortly after releasing the record, however, he left the band. Paired with these news, the band announced that they’d keep making music without him, but that the old songs would not be played live in the future. This left fans and curious bystanders alike wondering about what they would sound like moving forward, who was going to sing now, how would the new lyrics meld with the pre-established themes of their past work, and so on. I think Live at Bush Hall is in equal parts a beautiful and thoughtful response to all of these propositions, which obviously the band worked towards answering first and foremostly for their own sake.

The fact that the group is a six piece ensemble containing piano, violin and saxophone on top of more conventional guitar music instrumentation notwithstanding, it is my opinion that Live at Bush Hall represents the present of all of rock music. What better way to capture this than with a live album? The idea is multilayered in its ingeniousness, since it wouldn’t be held to the audience’s expectations of what a studio album could bring in this new phase for the group. It’s also a gamble, though, since it’d be nearly fifty minutes of entirely new material played in front of a crowd, and also they’d have to nail the performances for the recording. Luckily, and to the surprise of no one who was already familiar with them, they proved to be excellent musicians who were very much up to the task and the gamble paid off in spades.

The fact that this is a live album also placed constraints on the compositions; these are the now canonized versions of new songs that couldn’t, by design, count on studio trickery or embellishments to stand out. It’s just the musicians, their instruments, and the arrangements. And it sounds amazing.

In a lovingly nodding manner, the opening track sees the band screaming “Look at what we did together / BCNR, friends forever”, in a way that seems to look back, but also look forward. Even more than in their already ambitious Ants From Up There, they take advantage of the instrumentation in very clever ways, adding to the performance and staging aspects of the album. Certain passages feel like they’re out of a play (with songs like The Boy explicitly being divided into chapters,) and it is obvious that this is very much the intended effect once you look at the video recording of the concerts that make up the the album: it was a whole mise-en-scène, purposefully directed, and well rehearsed. The band played three times at Bush Hall, and before each set they handed programmes to the attendees. They then hopped on stage dressed in deliberate costume design following a particular aesthetic. These ‘plays’, and their respective items (except for the setlist), were all different those three times. The movie intercalates takes of all of the three nights, so we get to see the band wearing all of their costumes, all of the sets, and all of the programmes.

This clear love of performance is evident in the songs themselves. Not to spoil the ending, but the album closes with a reprise of the first track (a real exposition-conflict-resolution move on their part,) and pretty much all of its themes are present and brought back, sometimes literally, in many of the songs. Even now distributing singing duties among several of their members, male and female voices alike, drama still emerges; not missing their vocal might after the departure of their lead singer, the band’s lyrics are still painful and their wails still resonant. Some of the performances are so good as to even elicit the sense that what they’re singing about isn’t just some story that somebody’s recounting; they’re happening to you. In performing arts that’s about the highest praise you can give.

PETRODRAGONIC APOCALYPSE; OR, DAWN OF ETERNAL NIGHT: AN ANNIHILATION OF PLANET EARTH AND THE BEGINNING OF MERCILESS DAMNATION

King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard

King Gizz have many times before come very close to having what could’ve been my favorite album of the year. It’s ok, though; i’m glad they can occupy that Scottie Pippen spot in my heart.

Petrodragonic Apocalypse; or, Dawn of Eternal Night: An Annihilation of Planet Earth and the Beginning of Merciless Damnation is the band’s second full-fledged metal album, which is a genre that even before Infest the Rats’ Nest (its spiritual prequel) had popped up here and there amongst their numerous tracklists. Just in case you didn’t know already, the long story short is that KG has made a bajillion records and each of them has a unique concept and/or aesthetic. Sometimes some of those concepts reappear, making some of the records share a narrative and be in conversations with one another. 2019’s Infest the Rats’ Nest was the first time the band indulged completely in what was, inevitably at that point, a sound that needed to be explored comprehensively for the span of a whole record, after several songs in their discography having served as teasers of sorts. It proved to be a success (even being nominated for an ARIA Music Award for best metal album of the year, along with other, actual self-identified metal outfits,) pulling inspiration mainly from the thrash metal side of the spectrum and being always as vocal as they always have been in this particular common thread of theirs: we’re fucking up the planet. That's, like, their whole thing.

Petrodragonic Apocalypse feels like an evolution of Rats’ Nest in basically every regard. Its music is heavier, mathier, proggier, more dense, more environmentally minded, lengthier and, frankly, seemingly more difficult to perform. Being this not their first stab at heavier sounds, they complemented the album with one other area of expertise they possess: self-referencing musical passages.

Although their first record came out in 2012, it wasn’t until 2014 (which in retrospect isn’t that much time after) with I’m in your Mind Fuzz where they started to heavily introduce into their work the concept of melodies or refrains reappearing all throughout a single record. Maybe the first track would start out with a particular riff, which would later develop into a different melody for a couple of bars, which we soon would find would be used as the main riff for the following track, etcetera. This concept was then taken to its maximum exponent in 2016’s Nonagon Infinity, a record in which every track flows seamlessly into the next one (with even the last one looping back to the first one,) making it feel like one huge song. This would later culminate, at least narratively, in 2017’s space opera staging Murder of the Universe (that’s my favorite one!) but that way of making music, or albums specifically, seems to have become a habit of theirs, with fans now uploading countless videos on YouTube cross-referencing melodies from different albums to present as some kind of King Gizzard ‘lore’, regardless of what the main concept of each particular album ends up being. Petrodragonic Apocalypse harvests this skill and runs with it, adding some much needed cohesion to the madness. The drumming is insane, the guitar riffs are insane, the whole thing is insane! Yet, it is focused.

DESIRE, I WANT TO TURN INTO YOU

Caroline Polachek

Caroline Polachek made realize something very special: pop music is being vulnerable.

Now, we could dig into that statement with a hundred caveats, but that’d just suck the fun out of it. Here’s what i mean.

For many years i’ve thought of mainstream pop as something that didn’t, or couldn’t, contain me. It was very hard for me to relate to mainstream pop, probably because of its often rigid and spotless production and sound identity. Much of it sounded sterile to me, and i guess i sort of tagged that prejudice onto the entirety of the genre. I wanna be clear, though: i still think that about a lot of it — i just don’t think it’s all the same anymore. This type of change of mind would i’m sure seem inevitable to anyone that has simply sat down and listened to any given genre for long enough; pop music is simply an example in this case. It happens just like that; something unlocks inside your brain, and you get it. Heck, it’s happened to me with many other genres already.

I don’t feel any shame in admitting my teen-like stupidity. If you’re a teenager right now you won’t get this, but you have to be fifteen before you’re twenty-five. Any adult could tell you: it’s not that you have to go through adolescence — you have to live through stupidity. I didn’t say it, nor did i really think about it consciously in these terms, but when i was fifteen i took a certain kind of pride in not listening to pop music. I liked rougher, heavier stuff. That was my ‘whole thing.’ I would years later shift into the perspective that much of what i liked then was, actually, just as shallow, disingenuous, and, musically speaking, thought-murderingly conceived as the stuff i disdained and didn’t choose to listen to. However now i find that my favorite 2022 and 2023 albums have both been pop albums.

At some point i stumbled onto Queens of the Stone Age. Here, i found a band that, for lack of a better term, got it. Their "don't care if it hurts, just so long as it's real" attitude towards music, towards art, and by extension towards being a person in general, helped me. It’s not about the genre — it’s about what you make of it, and how you make it, and about it grabbing you by the shoulders and shaking you. Years later this same ethos would aid me in making my mother understand that it’s not that she disliked all westerns or musicals, it’s that she didn’t like shitty movies.

The opener to QotSA’s 2002 mainstream rock masterpiece Songs for the Deaf could, potentially (though it hasn’t been scientifically tested, i’m pretty sure,) blow your head right off. Though in it, amidst hellishly screamed vocals, then-bassist Nick Oliveri mellows down his voice just the right amount in order to sing the following sentence:

Metal heavy, soft at the core.

This sentiment, purposefully or not, defines the band. It also crudely puts into words what i crave most about music, and the reason why they’ve been my favorite rock band ever since i listened to them for the first time: aesthetics are nothing if they’re not backed up by true emotion. You can tap into this true emotion by allowing your self to shine through whatever you’re doing, whatever that means to you. Façades are just that: 2D images that say nothing about who’s behind them, and it’s thanks to some real insecurity that you start depending on them, deploying them and taking cover. If you’re a teenager right now you probably won’t get this (or maybe you will and i got real old real fast and grew to misunderstand the youth,) but being yourself is the coolest thing in the universe because it requires of you a certain kind of vulnerability that is, more often than not, really hard to come by. You just have to be brave enough to do it. Motomami shares with Desire, I Want to Turn Into You that same vulnerability. I’m sure that had Sakura not been the closer to that album, it wouldn't have topped my last year’s list.

With Queens of the Stone Age’s refrain serving as my thesis statement, i will now use it to rephrase my opening statement: being yourself is being vulnerable, and being vulnerable is one of the coolest things you can be.

Caroline Polachek knows very well who she is.

During the brilliantly unorthodox set piece premiere performance of her single Dang, Caroline acted out screaming her lungs out at millions of americans watching live on a highly popular late night TV show. This isn’t regular ‘popstar’ stuff — she went and became a popstar at age 34 after already having recorded and released many different albums across many different projects, many of them not being really pop at all. She even dropped an entirely ambient album under the CEP moniker at some point. You might not get it right now, whatever age you are, but that’s fucking cool. I checked out Pang, the predecessor to Desire, I Want to Turn Into You (a sweetly elusive example of a punctuation mark deftly incorporated into an album title) right when it dropped, not really knowing who she was or what her ‘whole thing’ was. I figured she might as well have materialized right out of the pop aether. Well, i was wrong. Caroline has been very carefully crafting her musical presence since 2005, and i am as convinced that Desire represents the peak of her ‘herselfness’ just as i am, now knowing her, that whatever comes after will naturally surpass it in that regard.

Something interesting arises when thinking about her aforementioned premiere of Dang, or for example her NPR Tiny Desk Concert as well: she loves to perform. I can relate to this. There is a clear desire to display her art in striking ways, to set up these intricately rehearsed sequences that etch her everything into your brain with a tingling, instead of just letting the music stand on its own. It very much could, mind you, but by God, does she achieve the full effect. She’s a bespoke, partnerlessly designed whole package.

I could go on about how talented she is, but that’d be stating the obvious since it’s easily noticeable just from listening to any of her stuff. I particularly love how it’s evident in how she uses her voice that she’s not just a singer but also an instrument player (you will get this if you’ve played an instrument for more than a couple of years.) She even does all of the weird vocal stuff from her albums live, with her own vocal cords, instead of using effects or manipulation. That’s also so, so cool. But more than talent, i mainly wanna reflect on how Desire makes me feel. From its album cover (another example of her being on her own lane: the album clearly takes inspiration from early 2000s music, even bringing Dido on board for one of the tracks, yet the cover emphatically does not go with a generic Y2K aesthetic, even at the time of its release, when it seemed to be so in vogue,) it looks like there’s an unquenchable thirst powering her every movement. I interpret this as passion.

The music on the record is great, and i feel it's a step up from Pang. Each song has the right amount of space, and the harmony keeps the listener interested. There is more screaming (yay!) right from the beginning of the first track, Welcome To My Island, and i don’t know how to explain it, but the song itself does kind of sound like an island. I like how, as i alluded to earlier, it seems like the whole of the compositions are informed by her voice being thought of as the main instrument first, and how the songs are constructed around ideas that you could only have come up with after ‘noodling’ on your own vocal chords. The melodies become instantly super gratifying as she picks ear-pulling intervallic relationships to leap to or jump off from, or when she just makes interesting stepwise runs (some passages from the closer, Billions, remind me a bit of Morten Lauridsen’s Dirait-on, though i’m not necessarily inviting anyone to think she must’ve taken inspiration from it.) Her words can go from playful (like in the opener: “Welcome to my island / Hope you like me / You ain’t leaving”) to yearnful (from one of the slower numbers: “Starlight in a tunnel / Kind of familiar / Hopedrunk everasking / How does it feel to know / Your final form?”) But most of all, they are beautiful. Take the chorus of the single Sunset, for example:

No regrets

Cause you’re my sunset

Fiery red

Forever fearless

And in your arms

A warm horizon

Don’t look back

Let’s ride away

The words alone are gorgeous, but when you hear her singing them, it’s… Man, it’s something else. I’m lucky, and grateful, that a record as good and soulful and loving as this one could come along, reach out, and awaken something deep inside of me.

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bforbetterthanyou · 2 years ago

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Anne Boleyn on Stage and Screen

Giuditta Pasta in the Teatro Carcano‘s production of the opera Anna Bolena (this was the original production of this opera and the title role was written specifically for her voice) — 1830

Apollonia Bertucca in the New York premiere of Anna Bolena — 1850

Violet Vanbrugh in the Lyecum Theatre’s production of Shakespeare’s Henry VIII — 1892

Clara Kimball Young in a short film about Cardinal Wolsey — 1912

Henny Porten in the film Anna Boleyn — 1920

Merle Oberon in the film The Private Life of Henry VIII — 1933

Vivien Leigh in the Open Air Theatre’s production of Shakespeare’s Henry VIII — 1936

Sara Scuderi in Gran Teatre del Liceu‘s production of Anna Bolena — 1947

Joyce Redman in the Broadway production of Anne of the Thousand Days — 1949

Elaine Stewart in the film Young Bess — 1953

Maria Callas in La Scala’s production of Anna Bolena — 1957

Gloria Davy in the American Opera Society’s production of Anna Bolena — 1957

Leyla Gencer in Anna Bolena — 1965

Vanessa Redgrave in the film A Man For All Seasons — 1966

Genevieve Bujold in the film Anne of the Thousand Days — 196

Dorothy Tutin in the BBC miniseries The Six Wives of Henry VIII — 19

Charlotte Rampling in the film Henry VIII and His Six Wives — 197

Beverly Sills in the New York City Opera’s production of Anna Bolena - 1973

Marisa Galvany in the New York City Opera’s production of Anna Bolena — 1974

Barbara Kellerman in the BBC production of Shakespeare’s Henry VIII — 1979

Joan Sutherland in the San Francisco Opera’s production of Anna Bolena — 1984

Oona Kirsch in the film God’s Outlaw — 1986

Edita Gruberová in Anna Bolena — 1994

Jean Marsh in the film Monarch —2000 (this is not a depiction of Anne Boleyn, specifically, but rather an amalgamation of all six wives)

Julia Marsen in the documentary The Six Wives of Henry VIII — 200

Jodhi May in the BBC TV movie The Other Boleyn Girl — 2003

Helena Bonham Carter in the ITV TV movie Henry VIII — 2003

An uncredited actress (as young Anne) in the documentary Kingdom of Scandal — 2003

An uncredited actress (as adult Anne) in the documentary Kingdom of Scandal — 2003

An uncredited actress in the History Happened Here segment Henry VIII & Anne Boleyn — 2007

Mariella Devia in Anna Bolena — 2007

Natalie Dormer in the Showtime series The Tudors — 2007-2008, 2010

Natalie Portman in the film The Other Boleyn Girl — 2008

Karen Peakes in the Folger Theatre’s production of Shakespeare’s Henry VIII — 2010

Miranda Raison in Howard Brenton’s play Anne Boleyn — 2010

Hasmik Papian in the Dallas Opera’s production of Anna Bolena — 2010

Miranda Raison in the Globe Theatre’s production of Shakespeare’s Henry VIII — 2010

Anna Netrebko in the Vienna State Opera’s and Metropolitan Opera’s productions of Anna Bolena — 2011

Emma Connell in the documentary Henry & Anne: The Lovers Who Changed History — 2011

Keri Alkema in the Minnesota Opera’s production of Anna Bolena — 2012

Jo Herbert in the UK tour of Howard Brenton’s Anne Boleyn — 2012

Rochelle Hart in the Opera Seria UK’s production of Anna Bolena — 2012

Anna Jullienne in the Auckland Theatre Company’s production of Howard Brenton’s Anne Boleyn — 2013

Serena Farncocchia in the Welsh National Opera’s production of Anna Bolena — 2013

Fleur Keith in the play Fallen in Love: The Secret Heart of Anne Boleyn performed at the Tower of London — 2013

Tara Breathnach in the documentary The Last Days of Anne Boleyn — 2013

Kathryn Myles in the Actors Shakespeare Project’s production of Shakespeare’s Henry VIII — 2013-2014

Miou Kazune in the Japanese musical Lady Bess — 2014-2017

Sondra Radvanovsky in several productions of Anna Bolena including at The Lyric Opera of Chicago and the Metropolitan Opera, among others — 2014-2015

Claire Foy in the BBC miniseries Wolf Hall — 2015

Harriet Green in the documentary Inside the Court of Henry VIII — 2015

Lydia Leonard in both the West End and Broadway productions of Wolf Hall Parts One & Two — 2015

An unknown actress in the Spanish TV series Carlos, rey emperador — 2015

Claire Cooper in the documentary Six Wives with Lucy Worsley (also known as Secrets of the Six Wives) — 2016

Fleur Keith in the short film I Am Henry — 2016

Harriet Green in the documentary The Six Queens of Henry VIII (also known as Henry VIII and His Six Wives) — 2016; Archive footage of Green in this documentary was also featured in the documentary series Elizabeth I — 2017

Krystin Pellerin in the CW series Reign, season 3 episode “To the Death” — 2016

Anastasia Drew in the documentary The Private Lives of the Tudors — 2016

Gemma Whalen in an episode of the CBBC series Horrible Histories — 2017

Ashleigh Weir in the Edinburgh Fringe Festival production of the musical Six — 2017

Christina Modestou in the Off-West End production of Six — 2017

Millie O’Connell in the original West End production of Six — 2018-2019

Angela Meade in several productions of Anna Bolena throughout the years, most recently in ABAO Bilbao’s production — 2019

Hazel Karooma-Brooker in the Norwegian Cruise Line production of Six — 2019

An uncredited actress in the Starz series The Spanish Princess, season 1 episode “All Is Lost” — 2019

Andrea Macasaet in the North American tour and original Broadway productions of Six — 2019-2020

Courtney Bowman in the West End production of Six — 2019-202

Maddison Bulleyment in the UK tour of Six — 2019-2020

Kala Gare in the Australian tour of Six — 2020

Alice Nokes in The Spanish Princess part 2 — 2020

Jodie Turner-Smith in the Channel 5 miniseries Anne Boleyn — 2021

Rafaelle Cohen in the BBC docuseries The Boleyns: A Scandalous Family — 2021

Amy Manson in the film Spencer — 2021

Amy James-Kelly in the Netflix docudrama Blood, Sex and Royalty — 2022

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letterboxd-loggd · 2 years ago

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Snowed Under (1936) Ray Enright

January 21st 2023

#snowed under #1936 #ray enright #george brent #genevieve tobin #glenda farrell #frank mchugh #patricia ellis #john eldredge #porter hall #helen lowell

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2ndaryprotocol · 2 years ago

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Michael Crichton and Robin Cook’s clinically chilling ‘Coma’ creeped out moviegoers this week 45 years ago. 🩺🧠💸

“𝙽𝚘 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚢, 𝚂𝚞𝚎. 𝙸𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚐. 𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚎, 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚢.”

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dragon-kazansky · 6 months ago

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Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Season one

Chapter Sixteen - Entanglement

♡♡♡

When you wake up in the morning, you spend a good few moments simply smiling up at your ceiling. The memories of last night come rushing back to you.

You feel giddy.

When the concert had finally ended, Lord Hardy escorted you out to your carriage. He plucked a rose from a nearby potted rose bush and gave it to you. He also had not let you depart without placing a kiss upon your gloved hand.

Your mother had been ecstatic on the way home.

The end of the season was drawing in. It seemed you had managed to secure a match after all. Perhaps you would write to him once he returned to the country.

Your mother and yourself would be staying in London.

Your maid came to wake you, and before you knew it, you were up and ready to face the day. You met your mother for breakfast. All she did was gush about the concert and how proud of you she was.

You couldn't stop smiling.

As you tuck into your breakfast, the butler comes in and declares you have received a gift. You glance at your mother and then back at him as a maid comes in carrying a beautiful bouquet of flowers.

"From Lord Hardy, ma'am."

You grin and look at your mother as she squeals with glee.

Things are looking up for you.

♡♡♡

"Then where did you meet her?" Elosie asks her brother as she follows him through the house.

She was, of course, referring to Genevieve.

"About town," he responds.

"At her shop?"

"Should you not be off somewhere, getting ready to attend your very first ball?" Benedict asks her, hoping to cease her questioning.

Eloise groans.

Hyacinth looks up at Anthony and asks if she may join in on the fun this summer at Aubrey Hall. She is asking about their usual game of Pall Mall.

Anthony snaps out of his thoughts and agrees that she may, as long as she does not touch his lucky mallet.

Eloise sits down with Benedict, continuing to question him.

She had thought her brother had been interested in you, but it seemed she was wrong. Which made his friendship with the tailor even more intriguing to her.

"What other places might Madame Delacroix frequent besides her shop?"

There was also the thought that Eloise suspected the tailor to be Lady Whistledown.

"Many places, Eloise, for her many interests." Benedict responds, sketching in his book. He had still been working on his art since he last saw you.

"You mean her many secrets. You should be careful, Benedict. Madame Delacroix may not be who you think she is," Eloise says. "And consorting with her, well, there may be consequences."

Benedict shushes her quietly, hoping the others didn't hear that.

"I would have expected this from anyone but you," he says. "You think just because Madame Delacroix has a paid occupation, or because she does not reside with the bounds of Grosvenor Square, she's different. Is that it? That she is somehow less deserving of my attention because she is not whom polite society deems appropriate?"

"That is not what I'm saying at all." Eloise clarifies.

"Then what are you saying?"

Eloise sighs and looks at her brother. "You are right. I should prepare for our sister's ball."

"Perhaps you should."

Eloise stands to leave but is stopped by the entrance of Violet entering the room.

"Aunt Winnie jas sent word. Francesca will be arriving home tomorrow," Violet smiles.

"How exciting!" Hyacinth beams.

"Perhaps she can tell us of time spent far from London," Colin comments.

"Fran has missed so much," Gregory points out.

"Mm. Indeed." Violet nods. "It certainly has been an eventful season, what with Daphne and the duke, and then Anthony and..."

Anthony lifts his head.

"Yes, well, never mind." Violet stops herself from going further. She leaves the room.

Benedict sighs as he sketches in his book.

♡♡♡

Eloise knocks on the door of the modiste urgently. Madame Delacroix opens the door, dressed in her robe. Her shop wasn't even open today.

"Miss Eloise, you should come back another day when the shop is open."

"I had hoped you would make an exception for me," Eloise chuckles. "I need a dress for my sister's ball."

"You already have a dress for your sister's ball."

"I need another one. A young lady can never have too many dresses." Eloise forces out another chuckle.

She is let in.

"Oh! Perhaps this one." Eloise goes over to a bright yellow gown. "It would make me look quite in fashion in the eyes of the Featheringtons, I rather think. Unfortunate young ladies. They are still quite stung from Lady Whistledown's recent exposé."

Benedict lurks on the stairs, listening to his sister talk. Did she know he had come here?

"I wish the author would write something flattering about them!" Eloise continues.

"Perhaps she will."

"What makes you say that?" Eloise asks.

"Because she knows what is good for her business, and angering loyal customers is not good."

"No... No, it is not." Eloise agrees. "Whether those loyal customers be Featheringtons or Bridgertons, even... Lady Whistledown might wish to examine what she writes about both."

"Indeed."

"I have heard people say that men, such as my brother, if you will, can withstand rumour and gossip, but... I am not always so sure."

"I know why you are here, Miss Eloise. You are very smart, and you care very much about the people in your life, as you should. But you must know I have no intention of compromising anyone."

"That is good." Eloise says. "Because the queen is enraged. So whoever Whistledown is should be careful. I would hate her to be silenced before she has a chance to change her ways and make things right."

"I believe Whistledown is smart enough to take care of herself," Genevieve states.

"Yes. She certainly is." Eloise smiles. "Charming chatting with you, Madame Delacroix."

Eloise leaves.

"Lock the door." Benedict says, looking at her once his sister has left the shop.

♡♡♡

Lord Hardy had come to visit you. You hadn't stopped smiling the entire time he was at the house. Conversation was engaging and thrilling. You were eager to know more about him, and he about you.

Your mother watched you both talk feeling like everything was coming together.

When Lord Hardy requested you join him, your mother had no qualms against him taking you out for the afternoon. You chuckled as you prepared to go out with him.

A boxing match.

You are reminded of the one Anthony brought you to. The thrilling fight you saw. Not exactly a place for a lady, but you were not about to argue.

"Is this alright?" Hardy asks you.

"Yes. I must confess I find it quite thrilling. Though mother may lose her mind if she finds out."

"As far as your mother knows, we are promanading through the park."

You chuckle as you take your seat next to him, keeping your arm hooked around his. You were looking forward to this.

"It is considered a gentleman's sport, but why remain proper when we can have a little fun?" Hardy grins.

You chuckle.

"Lord Hardy, I think I rather like the way you think."

"Thinking is a dangerous activity, but one I am quite happy to encourage. You must also call me Thomas. I insist."

You smile. "Very well, Thomas."

The Bridgerton brothers enter the arena hall. You spot them immediately. They enter in reverse order. Colin, Benedict, Anthony. Each with a top hat upon their heads.

They don't seem to notice you. You're sat quite far up. Your eyes follow Benedict for a moment. He looks well.

Distance seems to have come between you recently. You've seen him a lot less, and he always seems rather busy.

With the end of the season around the corner, you don't expect you'll be seeing much of him at all. Violet had mentioned Aubrey Hall, their family estate. She had said you were welcome to visit them up there.

You hadn't decided if you wanted to go. Perhaps not. Not if Thomas was going to have all your attentions.

Who knows, maybe you'll be a married woman next time you saw them.

"Ladies and gentlemen, take your seats. The match is about to begin!"

Thomas smiles at you as you smile back.

The fight starts. You and Thomas cheer along with the crowd as you watch bother fighters. Will the man you want to win. Thomas had placed a bet on him. You had told him that you had seen Will fight before.

Will gets a hit in and you cheer.

Thomas chuckles.

Across the ring, Benedict has spotted you. He sees you sitting there with that man on your arm. He turns his eyes quickly back to the fight.

Why should he care that you're here?

Why should he care who you came with?

You cheer again as Will gets another hit in. And another. And another.

But then it switches up.

The Beast hits back. Again and again and again.

You find yourself standing from your seat. Thomas doing the same beside you. You call for Will to hit him back.

He falls to the floor.

The bell rings.

You cling to Thomas's arm as you watch half the room explode into cheer. You watch Mondrich lay there. It was like he chose to stop fighting. You wondered why.

"Come on, get up!"

He did not. He just accepted defeat.

After the fight, you took Hardy's arm, and he guided you down to the entrance. When you reached the doors, you bumped into the Bridgerton brothers, well, two of them. It was Colin who saw you first and spoke your name with a smile.

Benedict turned to look at you. Colin tipped his hat to your companion. "Lord Hardy."

"Mr. Bridgerton." Thomas nodded back.

"Lord Hardy," Benedict greeted, though he seemed less enthusiastic about it. He then turned to you.

"Shame about Mondrich," you say.

"Yes, quite. Unexpected." Colin comments.

"Is he alright, do you know?" You ask.

"I believe so."

"Shall we go?" Thomas asks you. You look at him and nod. You bid farewell to the brothers and walk away with Hardy.

Benedict follows you with his eyes.

Colin nudges his brother, and Benedict turns his eyes away. He gives Colin a smile and walks on.

♡♡♡

"I am confident I could last a few rounds in a boxing ring."

Daphne had invited you to the Bridgerton house where her family was gathering. Her sister Francesca had returned from Bath, and they were all getting together. The duchess extended the invitation to you, which was nice.

You hadn't seen much of them the last couple of weeks. You accepted.

You chuckled at Anthont words about boxing. He seemed fit enough but did not quite strike you as a boxer. You supposed it was because you can only see him as the Viscount.

"Well, that is certainly a match I would like to see." Benedict responds.

He had been rather quiet with you since you arrived at the house.

You look up and see Daphne and Simon jad arrived. You smile at them both and get up to greet Daphne. She takes your hand with a smile.

"It's good to see you," you say.

"Yes. We haven't had the chance to talk much," she replies.

Francesca then comes over to greet Daphne and her husband. Then Hyacinth, too. You chuckle at the excitement in the room.

Hyacinth steals Simon away for a bit.

"Show me what you have been learning, sister." Daphne requests, wanting Fran to play the piano for her. You join the two ladies at the piano.

Eloise is eating chocolate alone on the sofa. Well, she's alone until Benedict sits down with her.

"I do not share food." Eloise scolds him.

"You are not to do what you did the other morning ever again," he scolds her back. "Do you understand, Eloise?" He asks her.

"You mean visiting my new acquaintance?" She grins.

"She is not your acquaintance."

"I was wrong about her. She is wonderful. You have nothing to worry about."

"I was worried about anything."

"Not worried about what?" Anthony asked, coming over and sitting on Eloise's otherwise. He held his hand to Eloise. She stared at it and then gave him a chocolate.

"Uh, I... I have a friendship with Genevieve Delacroix," Benedict confesses. "The... modiste."

Anthony stares at his brother.

Silence hangs over Eloise's head.

Then Anthony answers. "Good for you, brother. You deserve contentment. We all do."

Benedict and Eloise both look at Anthony with surprise and confusion.

"If the lady contributes to that, then I'm happy for you." Anthony leaves.

"Whatever is in those candies?" Benedict asks. He takes one for himself and stands to join the rest of the family.

"Your pianoforte is quite impressive," Daphne comments. Francesca smiles at her. You agree with Daphne.

"Join me, brother," Fran requests, looking at her third eldest brother.

"Yes, Colin, why not a song?" Violet smiles.

"If I must," he agrees, coming to the piano.

Francesca plays the piano as Colin sings. It's an upbeat song. Gregory and Hyacinth spin and dance while Anthony claps. You laugh softly as you watch.

The song comes to an end, and you applaud Colin for his wonderful singing.

Hyacinth returns to the duke's side to question him about his horses. Violet scolds her lightly, but Simon answers all her questions.

You smile at the sight.

Benedict is slouching in a chair nearby, and you go over to him.

"Hello."

He looks up. "Hello."

You look at him sheepishly for a moment before speaking again. "Are you well?"

"Quite well."

You sigh softly as you look down at your hands. "I've missed you."

Benedict looks at you with gentle surprise. "You have?"

You nod. "Mmhm."

He sits up a little straighter. "You appear to have been busy." He comments.

"Yes." You know to who he refers to.

"Does he make you happy?" He asks.

You nod.

Benedict lets that sit for a fresh short seconds and then inhales softly as he reaches over and settles a hand over yours. "Then I am pleased for you."

You smile at him.

"Thank you."

He removes his hand and sits back in his chair again. You at least feel like some of the air between you has cleared. Yet, he still seems a little guarded.

You say no more and enjoy the rest of the afternoon.

♡♡♡

@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333

@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived - @ajdelilah - @aadu2173

@booknerdlife - @tamlinrose - @sarahskywalker-amidala - @cheryyluv - @louschan - @lou-la-lou - @cultish-corner

@hopshusushi - @katherinejess - @nannabug - @afunkyfreshblog - @f0x33 - @dd122004dd

@jupitervenusearthmars - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @captainlunaxmen - @winchestersimpalababy - @acupnoodle

@ms-fandomgirl - @fablesrose - @anyaisinyourcloset - @meowzerzstuff - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @crazymar15

@cosmixstar - @bree3parchen - @berrnuu - @charmainemaclendon - @pinkpantheris - @krismdavis

@biancamde - @ifgslsofbsodbf - @kniselle - @berarenado - @grassclippers - @bwormie - @avengersgirllorianna

#Bridgerton shade of blue #benedict bridgerton x reader #Bridgerton #female reader #dragon writes

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thebluemallet · 5 months ago

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Eros/Psyche Parallels in Bridgerton Season 3

The show was not subtle with the Eros/Psyche parallels this season. So I attempted to go through episode by episode and find the connections. If I miss any obvious ones, let me know and I'll edit the post.

3x01- Out of the Shadows

Starting off strong with the opening credits! You briefly see a butterfly. Not only do the Featheringtons use butterflies as often as the Bridgertons use bees, but the butterfly is a symbol of Psyche.

When Penelope opens her wardrobe to that sea of YELLOW, her butterfly dress from the first ball of season 1 is visible.

Penelope talks with Genevieve about needing to find a husband this season and then we cut directly to Gregory with a bow (sans arrow) and he's pointing it directly at Colin. The bow and arrow is a symbol of Eros/Cupid.

Penelope sheds her cloak at that ball like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon.

The original Eros/Psyche myth has some jealous sisters and Prudence and Philippa, while maybe not jealous per se, are not happy to see their baby sister shining so brightly when she arrives.

And for more connection to the sisters--Psyche is the youngest of three daughters and her two older sisters are married before she is.

This one is, admittedly, a bit of a stretch but in the original myth there's some ire from Aphrodite because of all the attention Psyche is getting. And Cressida rips Penelope's dress once she is getting all the attention at the ball, specifically from Lord Debling.

Eros is sent by Aphrodite in the original story to marry Psyche off to marry someone/thing horrible (or just making sure no man wants to marry her) but Eros ends up falling for Psyche himself. Colin offers to help Penelope find a husband as a way to make up for what he said about her last year and, well, we all know where this is going!

3x02- How Bright The Moon

Edited to add (credit to @bridgertonblue)- Colin cuts his hand on the glass in the study. They flashback to this scene a few episodes later when Colin finally decides to take action with Penelope and his feelings for her. This can be a parallel to Eros getting struck with his own arrows and falling for Psyche.

Eros only visits Psyche at night. Colin comes to see Penelope at night in the garden after their scheme is exposed.

Eros accidentally struck himself with his own arrows and that's how he came to fall in love with Psyche. Colin kissed Penelope because he thought he was doing it for a friend, and he ended up awakening feelings he didn't even realize he had for her.

3x03- Forces of Nature

In the Architectural Digest Bridgerton Set Tour video, you'll see butterflies on the staircase in the entrance hall of Featherington House. It's not exclusive to this episode, I just thought I'd highlight it here since it's when we have the Eloise apology scene.

THIS ONE IS A HUGE STRETCH BUT I'LL PUT IT IN HERE ANYWAY--remember how windy it was with the balloon and Colin's arms that Penelope couldn't stop drooling over? Psyche was carried by Zephyrus-the West Wind-to her fancy new home and the godly husband she never sees.

3x04- Old Friends

Eros is tasked with marrying Psyche off, falls in love with her, and marries her instead. Colin offers to help Penelope find a husband earlier in the season, realizes he's been in love with her this whole time, and we get the iconic line, "For God's sake, Penelope Featherington! Are you going to marry me or not?"

3x05- Tick Tock

This one is another stretch, but Psyche has some jealous sisters who are not permitted to visit her at her new home (until Psyche convinces her husband to let them visit many months later). Prudence and Phillipa are being mean to Penelope over her engagement and Portia doesn't allow them to attend the engagement party. A Bridgerton engagement party, so you know that stings.

And another stretch! Psyche gets pressured by her sisters to find out her husband's true identity. Penelope gets pressured by Eloise to reveal her secret identity to Colin.

3x06- Romancing Mr. Bridgerton

Eros tells Psyche that she can never know what she looks like, which is why he only visits at night. If Psyche knows who her husband is, then eventually Aphrodite will find out and she'll be pissed. But Psyche, filled with doubt thanks to her jealous sisters, lights a candle while Eros is asleep, revealing his identity and betraying Eros.

Penelope writes/delivers her Whistledown column at night. Colin follows after her, discovers her secret identity, and feels betrayed.

3x07- The Joining of Hands

Eros leaves Psyche, feeling betrayed even though he still loves her deeply. Colin is cold and distant to Penelope in the fresh sting of his betrayal. But he still loves her and goes through with the wedding.

3x08- "Into the Light"

Eros refuses to see Psyche because he's been so hurt by her betrayal. Colin sleeps ten feet away from his wife's bedroom door (they must have had other bedrooms!) and leaves soon after she wakes up in episode 8.

Psyche has to go through some trials put forth by Aphrodite to get a chance to see her husband again. Penelope is confronted and blackmailed by Cressida when the latter learns that she is Lady Whistledown.

Psyche approaches two different goddesses to help her find Eros. Sometimes they refuse to help. Sometimes one of them points her in the direction of Aphrodite's place. Those two goddesses are Hera and Demeter. Two members of the most unlikely dream team in this episode are Portia and Eloise.

Hera is the goddess of marriage, women, and family, and she doesn't have the reputation of being an upstanding mother in mythology. She parallels Portia, mother to three ladies who she wants to see in secure marriages.

Demeter is the goddess of the harvest and agriculture. This is more of a reach, but she can parallel Eloise. In her book, her love interest Sir Phillip is experimenting in his greenhouse with peas(?) (I should probably read that book again) to increase their yield. Eloise also initially refused to get in between Penelope and Colin in the previous episode.

When Psyche goes through these trials, she's pregnant with Eros's baby. The showrunners confirmed that Colin knocked up Penelope in that mirror scene so she's in the very early stages of pregnancy here.

Psyche is indirectly helped by Eros (Zeus's eagle helps her out when they remember they owe Eros a favor). This angers Aphrodite and makes things worse for Psyche. Colin tries to save his wife by appealing to Cressida and ends up making things worse for Penelope.

Psyche's final trial involves going to the underworld. She deems this an impossible task and intends to sacrifice herself before she finds another way. Penelope decides to reveal her identity to the Queen and the ton, effectively sacrificing her reputation and potentially her marriage.

Zeus listens to Eros's pleas and grants Psyche immortality. The Queen is merciful to Penelope and doesn't punish her for Whistledown, allowing her to keep writing.

Psyche is often depicted either with butterfly wings or with a butterfly near/around her in art. Mrs. Varley releases the bugs (butterflies) directly after the Whistledown reveal.

Eros and Psyche are reunited and live a rare Happily Ever After in mythology. Penelope and Colin reconcile and go on to their own Happily Ever After.

#bridgerton #colin bridgerton #penelope bridgerton #penelope featherington #polin #eros x psyche #bridgerton season three #bridgerton s3 #i think i got all the references #edit- i found more!

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strayheartless · 2 months ago

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AGS and childhood teddy bears because I said so:

Angeal: His childhood teddy bear was made by his mother. It has lopsided ears and a wonky eye and his name is “Freddy”. Angeal did not name Freddy, Angeal’s dad named Freddy and really he wouldn’t have it any other way.

As a child Angeal took Freddy pretty much everywhere with him: to the market, do the beach, the doctors office. Even, on one very horrifically memorable occasion, to a funeral…. Now Freddy sits on his night stand looking a little worse for wear but no less loved. Angeal patches up every moth eaten hole and replaces any lost stuffing. He’s got a book on his shelf about Teddy bear repairing and no one is willing to make even the tiniest bit of fun of him. Freddy, to Angeal, is as important as the Buster sword.

Except Zack doesn’t really know what happened to Freddy after he is captured. He’d managed to rescue the little bear before Shinra came in to erase Angeal’s existence but now…?

Genesis: Genesis’ childhood teddybear sits in his bedroom on his bed and gods help you if you touch it. Genesis had many toys growing up, and all of them had backstories and personalities but Gigi was special. The bear had been given to Genesis by his mother after a trip to Junon when he was three. She had been away for weeks and despite the fact that she otherwise showed little interest in him past what he wore and ate, Genesis had missed her so much he’d thrown up crying the night she left. When she came back, bear in hand Genesis had been so delighted at the unusual display of motherly love that he’d completely failed to realise the bear had not come from Junon nor had it come from his mother. In fact the little bear came from a tiny toy shop in the market place and had been bought for him by his Nanny, who had accosted Genevieve Rhapsodos in the hall muttering:

“If he thinks it’s from you he may just be soothed better when you go away again.”

It did and Genesis was never any the wiser. All anyone ever had to do to get him to shut up was hand him Gigi and he promptly curled up either with a book or to sleep. Even when he burned Gigi to a crisp in his rage over the lie that was his life, he never knew his “mother” had not been the one to buy the bear.

Sephiroth: Sephiroth did not have a childhood stuffed animal or any kind. Hojo thought them inane while Gast fretted about the germs they carried, so Sephiroth went without. He had his locket and that was all that mattered to him for a very long time until….

Seeing Freddy and Gigi, Sephiroth is hit with unimaginable envy over what could have been. The loss he feels is stupid. It was an inanimate object for Gaia’s sake! He should not be bereft at the sight of it! Except he is, and he wants his own so badly it aches.

Sephiroth has a little ritual of patting Freddy gently on the head in greeting and nodding to Gigi when he sits on his friends beds. Angeal watches him with sympathy in his gaze while Genesis watches him like a hawk around his bear. But both of them know the reason behind the gesture and never point it out.

Until one holiday Angeal hands him a little brown paper wrapped package wrapped up in red and white twine, the way the shop owners used to wrap the toys in Banora. When Seph opens it he doesn’t speak, just touches the little tiger stuffy with reverence and lets the tears fall. Like Genesis, Sephiroth is very protective of teddy (he’s not imaginative with names leave him be). No one mentions that he stays on the pillow across from Sephiroth, and nobody mentions that most mornings Sephiroth wakes with teddy pressed to his cheek and subconsciously rubs its soft fur across his top lip soothingly.

Years from now HR will throw that same tiger doll into a black bag and into a land fill in the sector seven slums. Years from now a vendor will pick it out, clean it up and sell it to a tall man with a gun for a hand and a baby strapped to his chest who just rolled into town. He wants it for the baby, his daughter, and she sleeps with it every night.

Years and Years from now that same little girl will solomnly tell that tiger to watch over her brother while her uncle Cloud looks for a cure…

Years and years form now a winged stranger in a red leather coat with spy the little Tiger sat on the whiskey shelf for “safe keeping” and no one will know how to sooth him because no one knows what’s wrong.

#ffvii #ff7 #angeal hewley #genesis rhapsodos #sephiroth #crisis core #ffvii advent children #marlene wallace #barrat wallace #cloud strife #AGS #AGS + teddy bears #AGS headcanons #Angeal headcanons #Genesis headcanons #sephiroth headcanons

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shinestarhwaa · 9 months ago

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ILLICIT AFFAIRS || CHO MIYEON

This piece broke me, apologies x

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut

Pairing: Miyeon x Fem reader

Word Count: 5.6K

Tags/Warnings: Closeted lesbians, Forbidden Love, High society/Bridgerton inspired, 1800s, Princess!Miyeon, Aged down Miyeon (you and her are both 18 years old), unprotected sex, virginity loss, make outs, fingering, cunnilingus, squirting, scissoring, overstimulation, grinding/humping, emotional damage, heartbreak

Taglist: @anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @whatudowhennooneseesyou @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @pyeonghongrie-main @woosanbby @dreamlesswonder86 @changbinslovelylegs @jonghostie @lovjensoo @mjyungi @bratty-tingz @sugarnspice630 @stardragongalaxy @bro-atz @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisg00dgirl @wh0re4yunsangho

ENJOY!

February 10th, 1815

You couldn't help but look at her all night. It was as if the entire world paused and only she, she was moving. In fact, she was moving right into your heart and you swore you could literally feel it swell in your chest.

She was absolutely magnificent in her gown, hair pinned up and a beautiful, shining crown in her hair. The jewelry she wore must cost millions and she truly did look like a million dollars, as they say. If only she'd look at you, right? And if only you were a man of royalty because how else would you ever be with her?

Yes, you were lucky enough to be born in the high society class, in a family that was wealthy, but the smile you wore everyday is fake. Your mother and father didn't marry out of love and they couldn't stand each other, always fighting. Honestly, you were used to it and you could definitely handle it, but that doesn't mean it hasn't had a negative effect on you and your sisters.

All five of them were different from you, they're more to the standard. Alice, Idylia, Florence and Genevieve were all married now to their husbands and the eldest two even had children. Florence and Genevieve both got married last season and your mother now forced you to find a husband this year's season.

You hated it, the way things were arranged in the society, but you couldn't possibly break the rules that have been the standard for so long. But you really do not want to fit into the society's standard, you are too emancipated according to your family and most important of all; you'd have to marry a man while all you can think about is princess Miyeon.

Princess Miyeon and her beautiful hair, her slim body, deer eyes and her elegant manners. You were a little clumsier than that, and you didn't truly mind but somehow you wished you were more elegant and calculated so maybe she'd like you. But you had to get those thoughts out of your head, you told yourself, nothing could ever happen. You are a woman and she's the royal princess, she's the heir, she's to be queen one day. She'll probably be excited to have a king by her side to rule the country with.

But fuck, you wanted her. You had met her long ago and spoke to her a few times because you played together as kids when the adults held their party's or fancy balls if you will. As you and Miyeon turned older she got more reserved, held back and protected by her family. She looked sad though, she must want to be more free.

Suddenly you looked eyes with her and you swore your heart stopped. She flashed you a smile and walked up to you. "Y/N, it is lovely to see you again, it has been a long time, hasn't it?" She said. You bowed to her and smiled kindly. "Princess Miyeon, your grace, I'm glad to see you again too, it has been years indeed."

"The ball is kinda boring, is it not?" She giggled. You smiled, recognizing the mischief she had in her eyes when she was still an innocent child. When the world hadn't caused her pain yet. "It sure is a quiet one," you nodded.

"Do you wanna go for a walk? Let's sneak out," she grinned. It truly was just like old times again. The two of you slipped away from the stunning ballroom and ran through the halls. Your heels were clicking on the floor and your giggles and laughs were echoing throughout the halls.

Miyeon stopped running and entered the balcony, taking a deep breath as she leans on the cold white stone. "Your grace, isn't it too cold to be outside? It is still winter and I do not want you to catch a cold," you said worriedly, stepping onto the balcony with her.

She grinned and sighed. "It does not matter, Y/N. I'm just glad I finally can breathe again. I love the fresh air and I hate staying inside all day, drinking tea with my mother. Ever since my father died she's been so..."

Miyeon stopped talking and sighed. Your heart sank, remembering the terrible news from last year when it was announced the queen's husband; king Theodore had fallen sick and passed away in his sleep.

"It has been hard on her, and now she's making it even harder for me because she's pushing me to get married and have children so there'll be more heirs."

Princess Miyeon is the only child of Queen Isabella and the late king Theodore, as they hadn't spend much time together in their younger years due to wars and battles. Queen Isabella raised her on her own while also ruling the country. You had felt bad for Miyeon, it must be a tough and lonely life for her. Maybe, just maybe, you could spend more time with her, as a friend?

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

April 29th 1815

Time passed and you and Miyeon had actually gotten closer to her as a friend. The queen was glad Miyeon had a lady of great class that Miyeon could trust so she elected you to be the princess' court. You'd spend a lot of time with her, the queen told you, and to be honest you couldn't be happier.

In public you were very professional but behind closed doors you joked and played around like every normal 18-year old girl. You drank tea together and discussed all the drama and gossip going around and you shared wisdom with one another, reading books together.

Today Miyeon was feeling particularly mischievous and she took you with her to one of the big libraries in the palace. You were checking out the books when all of a sudden her voice called out to you.

''Y/N, What do you know about the marital act?''

You froze and looked at her. ''The marital act? You mean the wedding night... occurrence?'' ''Yeah, do you know what that is?'' You sat on the couch next to her and looked at the book she held in her hands. ''I don't know much about that, actually, my family has never told me about it except for my sister Florence. She told me there's a thing that married people do and that's how children are made.''

Miyeon nodded and opened the dusty book. It revealed texts about the marital act with pictures and details of male and female anatomy. ''That's what a naked man looks like? That is the...'' ''That's the penis,'' you said, nodding. ''It looks strange,'' Miyeon comments. You nodd and sigh. ''I agree, I'm not really... attracted to it. Or the man,'' you say. You mentally slap yourself for basically confirming your sexuality but Miyeon seems to skip over it.

''I have never seen it before. I have only seen myself naked.''

You felt like your skin was on fire, why did she have to talk about her being naked? As if you hadn't imagined that enough already. ''Are women's bodies different?'' she asks. You grin and play with your bracelet nervously. ''You're a curious one, for sure. Well, me and my sisters' bodies are all different... Some of them are taller, some have bigger breasts, some of them have bigger buttocks or thighs...''

''And the... crotch area? Is that the same?'' Your cheeks were bright red about now. ''T-The crotch area? You mean the... the vulva. I haven't seen my sisters', that is a little... inappropriate.'' Miyeon nodds, understanding that it's a more private matter. ''Sometimes I think about what it would be like to touch another woman's body. I wonder if it's different,'' she confesses.

You can feel your pussy clench around nothing, and you were most definitely aroused now. It was only because of Florence - who is definitely your favourite sister - that you learned about what arousal is and what you can do about it, what you can to do yourself. Even though you don't understand the entire concept of these so called 'sexual' acts and feelings, your instinct is to touch yourself between your legs and now you definitely feel the desire to do the same to her.

Fuck.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

May 11th, 1815

It has been about two weeks since your feelings for the crown princess started to develop into something more. You felt such affection and fondness while looking at her. You wanted to kiss her lips and carress her, and also undress her and lay naked with her, desiring to feel pleasure with her. You secretly stole the book from the library and in the back there were several drawings that were vague and nearly crossed out, but you could see well enough that the drawings and texts were about sex between women.

You had never seen, heard or read anything like this but you could not stop. At every waking moment you wanted to look at the drawings again, imagining princess Miyeon and yourself and at night you touched yourself. You did it all night long, dreaming about her and her body. You thought you might be delusional because you felt like she might be experiencing the same things. Did she not say she wanted to touch another woman?

When you showed up in her room you felt some sense of guilt, because you felt like it was the most horrible thing in the world to do. But her sweet and kind smile and her beautiful feminity made you forget that guilt. She seeked more touch than before, giving you hugs, holding onto your arm and hand and she even gave you a kiss on the cheek when you left her last Tuesday night.

Miyeon's welcome was warm as always and you sat in her room without any guards, just hanging out as two normal girls, not caring about your statusses. Once again Miyeon started to talk about the sexbook and you hold back a frustrated groan. You just nodd along and listen to her rants as she keeps on talking and babbling about it.

''So I don't know if I would ever have sex again if I had a child. Sex with a man doesn't interest me much. Would it not be easier to be with a woman? Know how the body works? It seems like... like a good time,'' she finally says, leaving you with your mouth wide open. What did she just say?

''You feel that too?'' you breathed out. ''I do... Maybe all women feel like that. I think women are prettier, more delicate.'' You literally could not breathe at this point, your core aching for her. ''Have you ever kissed anyone, your grace?'' Miyeon shook her head. ''No, but I have read about it and I saw other people doing it.'' ''Ah, I understand,'' You nodded.

''Would you like to kiss me, Y/N?'' She swiftly and suddenly said. You gasped a little as Miyeon scooched closer to you, her leg brushing up against yours. ''I... I would like that, princess,'' you nodded. Miyeon rested her soft and dainty hand on your cheek, carressing your face ever so gently. You leaned in and pressed your lips on hers, pecking her softly before pulling back. A fire broke out in your body, it was burning with passion as you stared into her eyes. Miyeon licked her lips and closed the space between you, pulling you close and putting your lips together again.

Her head tilted to the right as your lips moved together. It felt so nice and smooth and you felt the desire to deepen the kiss more. You pulled her even closer and felt her torso against yours, the sensation of your chests coming together sent a lightning bolt straight to your core. Her hands ran through your hair now, as yours ran over her back and hips. The material of her expensive dress felt so nice in your hand you wanted to keep touching it but you desired to feel her skin even more.

Your hands now slid from her back to her buttocks and you grabbed it, pinching and squeezing it. She whimpered softly, lips parted against yours. The princess slid her tongue in your mouth, slowly gliding it against your own and tasting each other's saliva. You felt so warm, like you'd combust. To your disappointment she pulled away from you after a few minutes, panting softly.

How were the two of you ever gonna move on from this?

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

May 20th, 1815

Apparently, you did not have to move on from it, because it kept happening. Miyeon kept kissing you from morning 'til late at night, in her room, hallways and secret places. Your hands, lips and tongues were all over each others ever since the first time. You're in the library once again and you lifted her on the dark wooden table in the center of the room. Your tongue glides over her neck and she throws her head back, moaning out softly.

Miyeon tugs down the top of her dress so that her breasts pop out. You curse underneath your breath and pepper kisses from her neck and collarbones down to her chest. Your hands reach up to her breasts and fondle them gently, watching her face closely. You kiss them and then close your lips around her left nipple, licking and sucking on it. She mewls and squirms underneath your touch and instinctively widens her legs.

''Y-Y/N,'' she moaned softly. The princess takes your dominant hand in hers and brings it underneath her dress, to her crotch. Your hand grazes the fabric of her underwear and it's so wet, so goddamn wet.

''You're so aroused, aren't you, my princess?'' You teased as you rubbed over her clothed crotch. ''Y-Yes, my lady, my Y/N, I'm so hot right now, please, I have read so many texts about this and I want it, I want it, please, I know you can make me feel good, please, God, I want it!'' she begged.

A smirk played on your lips and you pushed the bombastic skirt of her dress up and pulled her underwear down, revealing her glistening wet cunt. You looked at it up close, admiring how it's similar and yet a little different than your own. But it was wet in the exact same slick way yours got when you thought about the princess.

''I'm going to touch you now,'' you announced, spreading her legs wider. Your fingers slid through her folds, collecting her juices before pushing one finger inside her. ''Relax,'' you ordered her as you felt her body tense up. She nodded and watched you pump your finger in and out of her pussy slowly.

When you noticed her body relaxing you moved it faster and harder, opening her up before adding a second finger. You scissor your fingers inside her and curl them just right so it hits all the sweet spots inside her. You take off her panties and stuff them in her own mouth to keep her quiet. Her pussy clenches around your fingers and you decide to use your other hand to play with her clit. This is one of those times where you're thankful for having perfect co-ordination between your hands.

The princess is squeeling, whimpering and squirming as you move your fingers faster and put pressure on her clit. Her body tenses again and you know she's close to orgasming. You keep going and rub her clit even faster. ''That's it, princess, you're gonna come for me now, you'll come like the perfect princess you are,'' you breathed out, surprised at your own vulgar talk.

In a matter of seconds Miyeon came undone, coming and squirting so hard on your fingers, arousal seeping out of her pussy. She drenches herself and you in her juices and you ride out her orgasm before retracting your fingers from her wet hole.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

May 23rd, 1815

The Queen threw another party in her gigantic ballroom for the debutants and other ladies to find a suitor and both you and Miyeon were expectant to look for one tonight, but you sneaked off again. This time she brought you to a room full of artworks that were just collecting dust, meaning barely anyone came here in the past weeks, if not months.

She crashed her lips on yours again, sinking into your embrace and feeling your warm body against hers. You pulled away minutes later and panted, wiping the lipgloss from your cheek. "Princess, should we be doing this here?"

"Y/N, my dearest I keep thinking about you. About your hand between my legs, and your lips on my breasts, but that is not all. I think about your kind and beautiful face, your beautiful laugh and your golden heart. I think... I think I might have fallen in love with you, my dear."

You gasped softly, stunned at the sudden confession from the heir. "But princess, do you not know this is impossible? You need to find a suitor to be your king, you have to focus on ruling the country. It is... definitely not possible for us to be anything," you muttered.

Her eyes became glassy, welling up with tears, but as she learned she held them in. "But Y/N, I love you," she whispered. Her hand carressed your cheek softly, her fingers grazing your jaw. "Our love isn't impossible, I know you want me too."

"But the situation is impossible, in years you'll be the queen and you cannot... you cannot be a queen without a king and children. And even if you were, you couldn't be a queen who loved another woman. It's scandalous!"

"If I'm the queen can't I just... change the rules?" "You know damn well that you can't, Miyeon, you'll be a queen and not God" you spat. "Well fuck God, to hell with God!" You gasped and palmed her mouth. "Do not shout these things princess, please, we'll get caught and you'll get in a blasphemy scandal."

She took a deep breath and took your hands in hers. "I only want to be by your side. Can we do at least that?"

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

June 4th, 1815

You just came back to the palace from a long walk with the princess, which was more of a date because you felt like you were out with your lover. You talked about the world and about happy things while you held hands and laughed. Now you brought her back to her room and before the staff got to say anything Miyeon told them that you would be helping her get a bath and get ready for bed. You bowed to the staff and send them off, then closing the doors to Miyeon's room.

She pushed you up against them immediately. The gold ornaments on the door was gold on your chest but the hands gripping your buttocks firmly set you on fire once again. "Finally we are all alone," she whimpered in your ear as she pressed herself against you. You felt her breasts on your back and you wanted to turn around but her grip was surprisingly strong this time.

The princess grinded her crotch against your behind while her hands traveled up to your chest, pulling your dress down so your breasts sprung free. That's when she spun you around and fondled your breasts, kneeding them and massaging them just the way you like it. "Y/N, you drive me crazy, these... these beautiful breasts of yours, I wanna hold them all day long and I wanna touch you while I drown in your eyes," she sighs, kissing your breasts and lapping her tongue at your nipples.

"Why don't you drown between my legs instead?" You moaned softly, smirking slightly. You helped yourself and the princess out of your dresses and underwear, seeing each other completely naked for the very first time. Miyeon pulled you to the bed and you laid down on it together, embracing one another. "You're a beautiful woman, Y/N," she says with a smile, caressing your hip gently. "As are you, your grace." She laid you against her soft pillows and spread your legs wide. "I can not wait to taste you, my dear," she breathed out. "Then don't wait, please, do it, now." She nodds and licked a stripe up your wet pussy, tasting your arousal and smirking.

Her tongue glides along your folds, licking you up and again, and again until she tries to push it into your hole. You mewl and quickly cover your mouth with your right hand, stifling yourself as much as you could. After a few minutes of her tongue pumping and licking your inner walls she pulls out and finds your sensitive clit instead.

You cry out and grab the sheets tightly with your fists and moan at the sensation. It's one thing rubbing your clit with your own fingers but having the most beautiful woman on earth licking and sucking on it was something else. It didn't take Miyeon long to make you come undone on her tongue, lapping up your arousal as your body squirms.

When you gain your breath again you pull her on top of you, feeling her breasts on yours and rubbing them together slightly as you make out with her again. You notice yourself becoming impatient and wanting more so you flip yourselves over, getting on top of the princess. She looks at you with her big and beautiful brown eyes, patiently waiting with hunger in her eyes, curious as to what you're planning to do now.

You spread her legs and lift the right one up, letting it rest on your shoulder. She gasps as you align your sexes together, arousals colliding as you do so. "God, baby, Y/N, what are you doing to me?" She moaned. "I'm going to make love to you, princess, and I can do this sweetly, but I could also fuck you, fuck you hard," you grunted as you slowly rubbed your pussy on hers. "God, that sounds so good, please, that's what I want, Y/N, please do it hard and make me cum again," she begged. "Say no more, my princess," you nodded.

You started to rub your crotch on hers quicker, aligning your clits together and sparking a fire between your bodies. Both of your whimpers, moans and pleads were slowly becoming louder and louder, no longer thinking about keeping things quiet.

"Yes, yes, Y/N, that's so good, that feels amazing, my love, please do it harder, oh! O-oh that's good, yes! Please!"

Miyeon was a loud one, squeeling and moaning, nearly screaming as you quite literally rocked her world. The headboard of the bed was banging against the wall as you kept riding and grinding on her at a fast pace. The tension between you two was growing and both of you were getting close. You held each other as tight as you could while grinding together and quickly you both came, arousal dripping out of you and moans becoming a beautiful set of sinful harmonies.

When you stopped and laid down next to her, Miyeon still hadn't had enough, spreading your legs and putting her pussy on yours once again. She was still so sensitive from her previous orgasm, as were you, so it didn't take long before she started moving quicker and harder, moaning loudly. She threw her head back, her hair coming undone and falling onto her shoulders in lucious shiny curls.

Miyeon presses her lips onto yours as she keeps rocking into you, moaning into your mouth as she comes again in a matter of minutes, squirting on your pussy. "Fuck, fuck, princess!" You moaned against her lips. You flipped her over again, laying her down. The princess' head is laying over the edge of the bed and you set yourself back in the familiar position, grinding on her pussy, her pelvis, her thigh, you rubbed your pussy everywhere, chasing your own high.

"Yes, Y/N, Fuck! Use me! Rub it on me baby, rub it on me, use my body and make yourself come, give it to me, come for me!" You screamed loud and came, shuddering and shaking and falling on top of the princess. The two of you laid there for a while, sweaty and panting.

After a while you stood up and helped the princess up, carrying her to the bathtub. You drew the bath and helped her get in, massaging her skin and scrubbing her while pressing soft kisses on her lips. "I wish we could do that all day long," she sighed. "Me too," you nodded, washing her hair. "I love you, Y/N, You're my dearest love." You sighed but smiled and kissed her. It hurt you when she said those things, because you were realistic enough to know this was gonna end badly and you'd end up in pain. So you didn't ever say it back. But she knew.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

June 15th 1815

''Miyeon, my dearest,'' Queen Isabella said, ''I have found you a suitor! He will be attending the ball next Saturday. You will have to look your absolute best, yes?''

You swallowed thickly, looking down at the teacup in your lap. You tried hard to stay calm, and not to scream 'No! Don't take her from me just yet!' but you knew there was no use. If it's the Queen's orders Miyeon would have to obey her wishes. Miyeon nodded and cleared her throat. ''Yes mother... May I ask what he looks like? What his name is? Where he is from? Because... I would rather marry out of love but if I cannot then I will at least have to know who I marry, right?''

''That is not important. He is a good man, he is from France and we shall hold the wedding soon, after the two of you meet.''

Miyeon nodded, but she stayed quiet the entire time. When the Queen had left and you asked for a private conversation she bursted out in tears. ''Y/N,'' she cried, ''I do not want to marry that French prince, I wanna stay by your side!'' ''My princess, I will be on your side, except our situation will be different. You understand that what has been happening can not happen again.'' She sighed and brushed some hair out of her face and dried her cheeks. ''Not until after the wedding. I can still do whatever I want right now.''

The sovereign pulled you close in her arms and kissed your lips and then your neck. Her hands slid over the material of your dress and she pulled the skirt up, grazing your soft thighs. ''Oh, princess,'' you sighed out when her hand slid into your underwear, cupping your sex. She rubbed your folds as she kissed and sucked on your neck. ''Miyeon, oh God,'' you moaned when she entered you with two fingers. You wanted to stop her, tell her it would only hurt more if the two of you would continue this illicit affair, but you could not stop her. The power of her love and her being was too strong for you, and so you let her.

Her slender fingers pumped in and out of your pussy, making you wetter and moan her name into her mouth as she kisses you. It did not take long for you to come undone on her fingers, falling into her embrace.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

June 18th, 1815

Watching the love of your life meet her future husband was killing you inside. What was worse than that is the fact he was making her laugh and he was touching her hand. The hand that only belonged to you, the hand that fucked you just a few hours ago. Louis, was the guys name and you found him a snob, an arrogant man. Why was she laughing at everything he said?

You knew you tended to overthink certain situations but the way she looked at him showed you she was fond of him and you could not watch it any longer. You took a glass of champagne and drank the entire thing in a matter of seconds before exiting the ballroom. You sat in the hallway, where staff walked around but did not give a damn about how you fell to your knees and cried out. You were losing your love and nobody gave a damn.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

June 19th, 1815

''He's not too bad, luckily,'' Miyeon sighed after she told you about her fiancé. ''Not too bad? You were drooling all over him,'' you scoffed. ''Y/N, please, if I had a choice you know it would be you, not him. I'm just saying I'm glad he's not a total... twat.'' ''He is a twat, he is stealing you from me. You might end up with someone but what about me? I will not be living in a golden palace and I will not be having anyone's children and-''

''Y/N, for one moment, will you think about me?'' ''ALL, I think about, is you princess. You are my thoughts, you are my life, you are it.'' ''You have said yourself that this would hurt and it would not work out even before I did, why are you suddenly verbally attacking me? You knew this was going to happen.''

''So that means I cannot have feelings about this? That means I cannot hate him and feel outraged that he will kiss you and hold you while I rot away in my parents house?'' ''Y/N, please, I will be heartbroken too if I can never hold you again but you knew it was coming. This is not new information. I might be with you but I am still your princess!''

You swallowed your pride and looked down, nodding and taking a deep breath. ''Yes, your grace, princess.'' The tone in your voice was enough for Miyeon to know you drew a line. ''Come on, Y/N, do not do this, we still have a little while,'' she says, trying to take your hand but you step away and bow for her. ''I will not let you cheat on your fiancé, my princess, I shall head home now.'' You bowed once again and left princess Miyeon alone, in tears.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

June 21st, 1815

You were a weak woman, because only days later you were back in bed with Miyeon. Her body felt warm and delicate against your own skin. ''Princess,'' you called out softly. ''Do not speak, Y/N, do not say anything to... to stop this moment.'' You nodd and close the gap between your lips. They move together as you get on top of the beauty. You spread her bare legs and put your crotch on hers. The contact feels so good you throw your head back as you roll your hips forward. You bite back a moan as you bit your lips, breathing picking up as you grind your clit on hers.

''Y/N, Dear, please move faster, please make me finish on your beautiful cunt!'' she pleaded, holding your hips tight. ''Yes darling, my princess I'll make you come again, that is my duty.''

Your hands moved to her naked chest, fondling her breasts as you fucked yourself on her crotch, chasing your on relief. Miyeon was moaning over and over again, nails clawing in the soft flesh of your buttocks. ''Do it harder, harder!'' she screamed. ''Oh my God, oh my God!'' she squeeled when you did her just right. She moved her body along with yours and came hard, eyes rolling back to her brain. The sight of her coming for you made you come as well. You rode out your highs before getting off her but keeping her legs spread.

Miyeon whimpered when she felt two of your fingers dip into her core and she clenched around them. ''Y/N, please, t-too sensitive!'' she cried, but you did not care, you wanted to leave a memory and make her orgasm over and over again. Her arousal was seeping out of her cunt as you moved your fingers inside her quickly. Miyeon's breathing was picking up and with just a few more thrusts she squirted over your hand, coating you in her slick. Without giving her a chance to gain her breath again you kept going, determined.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

June 26th, 1815

The wedding bells were loud, too loud actually for you. It was incredibly hard to hold back the thick tears welling up in your eyes as you watched Miyeon walk out with her prince, her husband. It made you feel nauseous, you wanted to throw up and run away, cry, scream and disappear, knowing you have now lost her to someone else.

You bow to her and congratulate her as she walks by, and when she gets into the carriage you run away. You do not even know where you are running to but you are running, running far away from the church. You end up in the field you once sat in with her and you fell to your knees, not caring your dress would get dirty. You laid in the grass and looked up to the sky while tears fell from your eyes, rolling down your cheek. You missed her dearly, already, and this was only day one. From now on there would be a lifetime without her. Without anyone ever knowing she was once yours.

And that's the thing about illicit affairs And clandestine meetings and longing stares It's born from just one single glance But it dies, and it dies, and it dies A million little times

#kpop #shinestarhwaa #gidle #g idle #smut #miyeon #cho miyeon #miyeon x reader

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annabolinas · 6 months ago

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May 18, 1536 - Anne's Last Confession and "A Little Neck"

"This morning, she [Anne] sent for me that I might be with her at such time as she received the good Lord [i.e. the Eucharist], to the intent I should hear her speak as touching her innocence … In the writing of this, she sent for me. And at my coming, she said, 'Master Kingston, I hear say I shall not die before noon, and I am very sorry therefore, for I thought then to be dead and past my pain.' I told her it should be no pain, it was so subtle. And then she said, 'I heard say the executioner was very good, and I have a little neck', and put her hand about it, laughing heartily. I have seen many men and also women executed, and … they have been in great sorrow. And to my knowledge, this lady hath much joy and pleasure in death." - William Kingston, Constable of the Tower, to Thomas Cromwell, May 18, 1536

"She confessed and took the Sacrament yesterday. No one ever showed more courage or greater readiness to meet death than she did, having ... begged and solicited those under whose keeping she was to hasten the execution. When orders came from the King to have it delayed until today, she seemed sorry and begged and entreated the governor of the Tower ... for God's sake, to go to the King, and beg of him that, since she was well disposed and prepared for death, she should be dispatched immediately. The lady in whose keeping she has been sends me word, in great secrecy, that before and after her receiving the Holy Sacrament, she affirmed, on peril of her soul's damnation, that she had not misconducted herself so far as her husband the King was concerned." - Eustace Chapuys, May 19, 1536

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bookcub · 3 months ago

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Chappell Roan Book Rec

like many other, I am currently obsessed with The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess so here are a few book recs based on the songs!!

(you can message me for questions about content warnings!)

Femininomon

A Guest in the House by E. M. Carroll (horror graphic novel)

What happens when you marry a mediocre liar and there's a ghost you are definitely attracted to in the house (that might be his dead wife)?

Relevant lyric: Stuck in the suburbs, you're folding his laundry/Got what you wanted so stop feeling sorry

Bonus Rec: Romancing the Inventor by Gail Carriger (adult steampunk romance)

Red Wine Supernova

Satisfaction Guaranteed by Karelia Stenz-Waters (adult romance)

Imagine inheriting a sex toy shop with a enchanting stranger who you feel incredibly connected to. . .

Relevant lyric: I heard you like magic/I got a wand and a rabbit

Bonus Rec: Sunstone by Stjepan Šejić (adult romance graphic novel)

After Midnight

Ash by Malinda Lo (YA fantasy)

I had to choose a queer Cinderella for this one, especially one whose mother warns her away from the forest at night.

Relevant lyric: This is what I wanted, this is what I like/I've been a good, good girl for a long time now

Bonus Rec: A Restless Truth by Freya Marske (adult historical fantasy, sequel)

Coffee

The Witch's Heart by Genevieve Gornichec (adult fantasy)

When your ex is the trickster god Loki and you have prophetic futures, you know you can never just have coffee.

Relevant lyric: Here come the excuses that fuel the illusions/But I'd rather feel something than nothing at all,

Bonus Rec: Seven Days in June by Tia Williams (adult contemporary)

Casual

The Last Tale of the Flower Bride by Roshani Chokshi (adult gothic)

Remember that toxic homoerotic best friend you had a child? Who believed in magic and was also the most manipulative person you've ever met? It never was a casual relationship, was it?

Relevant lyric: Hate that I let this drag on so long, you can go to hell

Bonus Rec: Ben and Beatriz by Katalina Gamarra (adult romance)

Super Graphic Ultra Modern Girl

A Spindle Splintered/A Mirror Mended by Alix E. Harrow (adult fantasy)

Entering the fairy tale multiverse always leads to the strangest (and funnest) relationships (platonic and romantic) of your life.

Relevant lyrics: We're leaving the planet and you can't come

Bonus Rec: Cash Degado is Living the Dream by Tehlor Kay Mejia (adult contemporary)

HOT TO GO!

The Princess and the Grilled Cheese Sandwich by Deya Muniz (graphic novel)

What if I dressed up as a count to inherit my father's fortune and you were a princess and we both liked grilled cheese???

Relevant lyric: I could be the one, or your new addiction/ It's all in my head but I want non-fiction

Bonus Rec: Act Your Age, Eve Brown by Talia Hibbert

My Kink is Karma

Mrs. Martin's Incomparable Adventure by Courtney Milan (adult historical romance)

She said, let's destroy my terrible nephew's life, and how could you say no to such a romantic proposal?

Relevant lyric: Wishing you the best, in the worst way

Bonus Rec: Girl Serpent Thorn by Melissa Bashardoust (YA fantasy)

Picture You

A Lady for a Duke by Alexis Hall (adult historical romance)

Oops, I faked my death and reinvented myself and you were way more distraught than I thought you would be. . .

Relevant lyric: Do you picture me like I picture you?/Am I in the frame from your point of view?

Kaleidoscope

The Scapegracers by H. A. Clarke (YA urban fantasy)

What if we formed a coven and what if we were all a little in love with each other?

Relevant lyric: And love is a kaleidoscope/How it works we'll never know

Bonus Rec: The Girls I've Been by Tess Sharpe (YA thriller)

Pink Pony Club

The Prince and the Dressmaker by Jen Wang (graphic novel)

He was a drag queen, she was a seamstress, can I make it anymore obvious?

Relevant Lyric: And I heard that there's a special place/Where boys and girls can all be queens every single day

Bonus Rec: Last Night at the Telegraph Club by Malinda Lo (YA historical)

Naked in Manhattan

Astrid Parker Doesn't Fail by Ashley Herring Blake (adult romance)

Isn't it romantic, designing a house with someone with your entirely opposite tastes?

Relevant lyric: Boys suck and girls I've never tried

Bonus Rec: Girls Made of Snow and Glass by Melissa Bashardoust (YA fantasy)

California

Honey Girl by Morgan Rogers (adult contemporary)

If a PhD can't save you, maybe a drunken marriage in Vegas can?

Relevant lyric: Cause I was never told that I wasn't gonna get/The things I want the most

Guilty Pleasure

Something to Talk About by Meryl Wilsner (adult romance)

Fake dating your boss? 0/10 recommended. . . right?

Relevant lyric: I want this like a cigarette/Can we drag it out and never quit?

Bonus Rec: That Time I Got Drunk and Saved a Demon by Kimberly Lemming (adult fantasy romance)

Bonus:

Good Luck, Babe

Sorry, Bro by Taleen Voskuni (adult contemporary)

Relevant lyric: You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling

Ophelia After All by Racquel Marie (YA contemporary)

#chappell roan #my book recs #book recommendations #the rise and fall of a midwest princess #musical book rec #its also a mostly queer book rec #queer books #mostly but not all!!#MOST #some of the bonus ones arent #idk what other tags to use #booklr #book rec list #my book recommendations #i also havent read one of these books but i want to #and i like the authors other books #musical book recs

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nomie-11 · 2 months ago

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Chapter 10 - Shifting Tides

<- previous chapter | masterlist | series masterlist | next chapter ->

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Soo, Sawyer, huh, Rhi?” Violet starts as the three of them walk down their new dorm. First year dorms may be the smallest private dorms on campus, but damn, all Genevieve could think was that was the best night sleep of her life.

“I felt like celebrating,” She said, and Genevieve whistled.

“You didn’t think to ask me first?” She says, her words light as a small smile comes on her face.

“You have enough on your plate, sex wise,” Rhiannon said, teasing Genevieve. “And why have I not heard of you celebrating?” She asks Violet. “Ridoc definitely has a thing for you, not emotionally just physically, and Liam has a thing for you emotionally.”

“Liam? Liam Mairi? You’re insane.” Violet says, waving her off. “And either way, if he wants to celebrate with me, he’s going to have to ask first.”

Genevieve and Rhiannon laugh, and she giggles too, a blush on her cheeks.

“Good morning, Ladies.” Ridoc says, forcing his way through the crowd and slinging an arm around their shoulders as they enter the dining hall. “Or should I say, riders.”

“I like the sound of riders,” Rhiannon replies, shooting a smile in his direction.

“It has a certain ring to it,” Ridoc agrees.

“It definitely sounds better than dead.” Genevieve says, her voice serious but the tone implicates a tease.

“Where’s your relic?” Violet asks, used to ignoring the awful offhand comments Genevieve makes.

“Right here,” He says, his arm falling off of their shoulders as he rolls his sleeve of his tunic up to reveal the brown silhouette of a dragon on his upper arm. “You?”

“Can’t see it. It’s on my back.” Ridoc whistles, and he spins to face Rhiannon.

“And you? What about yours, Rhi?”

“Somewhere you’ll never see,” She responds, and he laughs.

“You wound me.” He slaps a hand over his heart.

“I highly doubt that,” she retorts, but there's a smile on her face. The group moves through the hall into the line for breakfast.

“And Genevieve?” He asks Rhiannon, completely bypassing asking Genevieve who he knows isn’t paying attention.

“On her back,” Rhiannon says. “It’s crazy looking. Her rebellion relic mixes with her dragon relic. It’s insane.”

As they make their way through the line, Genevieve’s mind is elsewhere. It feels as if the energy in the dining hall has shifted. It’s different now.

“Asshole,” Ridoc mutters in a context Genevieve hasn’t heard. “I still can’t believe they tried to kill you.”

“I can,” Violet shrugged, taking her chances with a maybe poisoned mug of apple juice. “I’m the weakest link, right? Unfortunately for me, that means people are bound to try and take me out of the wing.”

“I don’t even know what you’re saying, but they’d have to kill me first,” Genevieve says, taking a bite out of her own apple. As they walk to the fourth wing section of the cafeteria, they find a table and only three extra seats.

“Mind if we—” Ridoc starts.

“Absolutely! It’s yours!” A couple of guys from Tail Section scurry off the bench.

“Sorry, Hale!” The other says over his shoulder as they find another table.

What the fuck?

“Well, that was really fucking weird.” Rhiannon rounds the other side of the table, and Genevieve sits on the other side as Violet follows.

“Even weirder?” Ridoc remarks, gesturing across the hall toward First Wing.

The girls follow his line of sight, and their eyebrows lift. Jack Barlowe is being squeezed out of his table. He’s forced to stand as others take a seat.

“What the hell is going on?” Rhiannon bites into a pear and chews. Jack moves again, and then again.

”Oh, how the mighty have fallen,” Ridoc notes, watching the same show they all are. There’s no satisfaction in their view, everyone knows feral dogs bite harder when they’re cornered.

“Hey, Hale,” the stocky girl from First Wing I beat in my second challenge says with a tight smile as she walks past our table.

“Hey,” she says, nodding her head, but then she turns to face Rhiannon. “That girl hasn’t spoken one word to me since I threatened her hair when she beat up Violet.”

“It’s because you bonded Tairn.” Imogen blows her pink hair out of her face and throws her leg over the bench. She sits, pushing the sleeves up from her tunic. “The morning after Threshing is always a clusterfuck. Power balance shifts, and you, little Hale, are now the most powerful rider in the quadrant. If they weren’t scared before they’re definitely scared now.”

She blinks, her pulse elevating. Is that what is going on? Social groups have split, but it still doesn’t make sense-

“Which is why you’re sitting with us now?” Rhiannon arches a brow at the second-year. “Because I can count on one hand the number of nice words you’ve said to any of us.” She holds up a fist with zero fingers raised.

Genevieve glances around the table, to the seconds years, Quinn and Imogen, and to Sawyer who has finally arrived. Imogen is cool and Quinn is cool as well, but this was strange. Genevieve’s eyes glance at the patches on their jackets, but she doesn’t know what any of it means. She knows that her patches mean Flame Section, Fourth Wing, First Year, and now also Iron Squad.

“You weren’t interesting enough to sit with before, and now you’ve survived Threshing, so you’re worth it.” Imogen responds as she bites into a muffin. Suddenly the third years in their section sit down too, and Genevieve almost chokes on the apple she’s been nursing the entirety of breakfast.

“My dragon is not that cool, if that's what you’re looking for,” She says, biting her tongue from saying anything mean.

“I take immediate offense to that,” Tairn huffs. “Now eat something more than an apple and get over your fear that Oren has poisoned you.”

“I’m not eating the food on my plate,” Genevieve counters. “It’s definitely poisoned.”

“We aren’t looking for your dragon,” Imogen says, her voice strong. “We’re looking for you, because now you’re under our watch. Now eat your food.”

Genevieve looks bewildered, but she doesn’t say a single thing.

“You’re the Iron Squad, and you and Violet both have some crazy dragons on your tail. That means eyes are on you from every direction. A huge red target is painted on your back.” Her voice is low, but it cuts through the clamor of the hall. “And whether you like it or not, this balance isn’t going to change any time soon, so get used to it.”

Genevieve glances at Rhiannon, confusion evident on her face.

“That doesn’t explain why you’re here, though.” She says, her words biting and strong.

“Oh, Xaden didn’t tell you?” She says, a sly smile on her face. “Tairn and Sgaeyl are mated, so even though your relic isn’t on your arm, you’re one of us now.”

“Oh shit,” Ridoc whispers, and Violet nods her head in agreement.

“You’re in our squad now.”

—————————————-

Violet had explained to Genevieve that mated dragons aren’t common, not even by a long shot, and to let mated dragons bond riders in different years was unheard of, but dragons do what dragons want, as exemplified by Violet.

She explained that Xaden and Genevieve themselves are now binded, their lives intertwined in some sick curse that ties their fate with a little red string. When one dies, the other dies, when one gets hurt, the other feels it, when one feels another strong emotion, the other feels the emotion. She was never alone with Tairn now, but not only was Tairn in her head, Xaden was too.

“Stop thinking so hard and get on my back, we have maneuvers to master,” Tairn grumbled, his voice low. She mounted his back, and found her seat easily.

“Were you planning on telling me? That you and Sgaeyl were mated?” She asked over the bond, her mind distracted from her actions.

“Sgaeyl had assured me that the wingleader would tell you, and that I shouldn’t worry about it,” He said, his tone grumpy like it usually was. “I see now that he did not, and I should stop trusting that wingleader.”

“You don’t like Xaden?” She asked, as they took off, following second behind Professor Kaori, who Tairn had said he would only follow because he was Genevieve’s professor.

“I don’t like the boy,” Tairn huffed. “But Sgaeyl loves him, so I won’t char him. Maybe I’ll lightly toast him.”

“You shouldn’t set him on fire anyways, he’s an asset,” She said quickly, ignoring the blush rising on her cheeks. Genevieve cast another glance down at Violet, a few dragons back. Andarna didn’t come, Violet flew on Astrape alone. “What’s the deal with Violet and Astrape?” Genevieve asked, quickly diverting the conversation away from Xaden and onto Violet. “She looks like she can’t hold her seat.”

“She can’t,” Tairn replies, banking left, following Kaori into the canyons. “Astrape is one of the strongest dragons in the vale, maybe third to Codagh and I. Her powers are keeping Violet in that seat.”

“Shouldn’t she be saving her powers, for…” Genevieve trailed off, not knowing how to verbalize what she wanted to say. “…combat?”

“Stop asking meaningless questions,” Tairn huffed, his annoyance evident in every word that was communicated in their bond. “Astrape has more power in her than most other dragons could even imagine having. She will be fine.”

And Genevieve nodded, who was she to argue with a dragon, an all-mighty, all-knowing being. The dragon that had chosen her. She was not one to argue. Her grip tightened on Tairn’s back as the cool rush of wind from the canyon blew against her hot skin. She knew better than to press Tairn when he was already somewhat irritated, but she wanted to know how Violet was keeping her seat.

As they neared the sharp turns of the canyon, Genevieve let the questions go, her focus snapping to the task at hand. Flight training was brutal, she couldn’t afford a lapse in concentration. Train’s powerful wings sliced through the air as they banked hard left, narrowly avoiding the jagged cliffs that seemed to rise out of nowhere. Kaori’s dragon led the pack, weaving through the narrow paths with ease. She could sense Tairn’s irritation at following anyone, but for some reason, it felt as if he cared enough about her to swallow his pride.

Behind her, the presence of a struggling Violet claws at her mind.

Be quiet, Geneiveve, She chastised herself. Violet is your friend. She’s trying. Be nice.

“I didn’t know nice was in your vocabulary,” Train huffed. “Now focus.”

“I am!” She shot back, adjusting her posture as they approached a narrow pass. The jagged rocks below glinted dangerously in the sunlight, promising death to anyone who made the wrong move.

As they passed the gap, her eyes flicked back to Violet, who was struggling more visibly now. Astrape’s wings beat with precise power, but there was something off about the way Violet held herself in the saddle. She was slipping, her body tense and rigid, as if each move was a desperate attempt to stay upright. Geneiveve knew that look–the look of someone who was fighting for control, not just over their dragon, but over themselves.

“She’s going to fall,” Genevieve muttered over the bond, her heart skipping a beat.

“She won’t,” Train replied, his voice steady but cold. “Astrape won’t let her.”

Kaori signaled the next maneuver–a sharp dive into a winding ravine, followed by an immediate ascent. Genevieve could feel the pressure in her chest as Tairn obeyed, plunging toward the ground with a terrifying speed that left her stomach in knots.

As they pulled up, her breath caught in her throat as Tairn shot off. He was so fast. The wind in her hair was so freeing.

“You ready?” Train asked, his voice taking on a sharper edge.

“Always.”

With a swift movement, they dove into the loops, Train’s wings angling perfectly to guide them through the tight spaces. Genevieve felt every shift, every beat in sync with her movements. They were seamless, an extension of each other. The world blurred around her as they cut through the air, the adrenaline pumping through her veins.

But out of the corner of her eye, she saw something. Violet, behind her, struggling more than ever. Astrape’s wings fell, just for a split second, and Genevieve knew–knew deep in her heart–that Violet wasn’t going to make it through the next turn.

“Violet!” She shouted, the sound swallowed by the rush of wind, her heart lurching.

She felt the tug of the bond, Xaden’s awareness surging into her thoughts. He felt it too, the fear, the instinct to protect. But Genevieve couldn’t let herself be distracted by that–by him.

“Leave it!” Train barked, sensing her instinct to intervene.

Genevieve hesitated, her grip tightening as the next loop approached. She had to make a decision. Focus on the maneuver, or–

Astrape dipped down, grabbing Violet with her claws and tossing her back into her seat.

“Thank the gods,” Genevieve whispered, her own heart racing as if she was the one who fell.

“Look at you, you have emotions!” Train laughed.

“Oh, shut up!”

—————————————

“Were you planning on-” her shin came into contact with the punching bag she was using. “never telling me that our dragons are mated?”

Xaden’s eyes were dead set onto her body under the guise of watching her train. Garrick, Bodhi, Imogen, Liam, and a few other rebellion kids were in the gym. As Genevieve’s eyes cast over the room, her eyes narrowed on Violet.

“And why is Imogen training Violet?” Her other leg made contact strongly, but she was distracted, so she stumbled back.

“I was going to tell you, I was just waiting for…” he trailed off, his words lost on an already angry Genevieve.

“No you weren’t. You were going to wait for me to ask like always,” she snapped. Her eyes held so much rage, Xaden could feel the flames of anger engulfing him. “Did you manipulate Threshing?” Her voice was a dangerous whisper. “Did you tell Sgaeyl to bond me so we would be linked together?”

“Of course not!” He immediately responded. “This is the worst case scenario, I do not want to be linked to you.”

Genevieve’s expression narrowed, her body going rigid with tension. Her expression darkened as she took a step closer to Xaden, the sheen of her sweat glistening under the mage lights, but her focus was far from the physical exertion of training. “Worst case scenario?” She repeated, her words venomous. “So being bound to me is so repulsive that it’s your worst case scenario?”

Xaden ran a hand through his hair, his jaw clenching with tension as the weight of his own words sank in.

“Gen, that’s not what I meant and you know it,” his voice softened, trying to ease the fire that radiated off of Genevieve. “This bond just complicates things—everything. You know that.”

She scoffed, eyes flicking between him and the rest of the room. The rebellion kids continued their sparring, laughter mingling with the sharp sound of fists hitting targets, completely unaware of the storm brewing between them. Violet had slowed her movements, however, casting a glance in their direction. It only fueled Genevieve’s resentment.

Genevieve’s fingers curled into fists, her knuckles whitening with the force of her anger. She took another deliberate step toward Xaden, her voice low and cutting, barely concealing the fury beneath the surface. “Complicates things for you, you mean.” Her eyes narrowed further, the tension in her muscles betraying her desire to his something—maybe even someone. “Because Gods forbid you have to deal with the consequences of anything outside your control.”

Xaden’s jaw tensed as he fought to keep his composure, but Genevieve’s words hit home. He’d always prided himself on control—of his dragon, his squad, his emotions—and now, it was unraveling. Genevieve, with her endless need for vengeance, her relentless drive, and now their unwanted bond, was the epicenter of that chaos. She was the reason.

“I didn’t choose this,” he said firmly, his voice edged with frustration. “Do you think I wanted Tairn to bond with you? This is as much of a shock to me as it is to you.” His faze flickered away briefly, landing on Violet again, who had now fully paused her training to watch. That momentary distraction only inflamed Genevieve’s temper further.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Her voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. She advanced again, her proximity forcing Xaden to meet her eyes. “This isn’t about the bond alone. This is about trust. This is about the fact that you kept this from me. That you decided what I should or shouldn’t know, like you always do.”

Xaden’s face hardened. “I wasn’t trying to keep it from you. I was trying to figure out the details of it, how to handle it before—”

“Before what?” Genevieve’s voice rose now, drawing the attention of the others in the gym. Xaden’s group of friends in the training gym paused, sensing the rising tensions. “Before you thought it was convenient to share? Or were you hoping I wouldn’t notice the massive life-altering detail until it was too late for me to get angry?”

Liam, sensing the explosive energy in the room, began walking toward them, his easy grin faltering, but Garrick held him back, shaking his head with an easy ‘no’. Imogen and Bodhi exchanged glances, but they stayed in place. Violet’s eyes lingered, her posture tense, though she hadn’t moved.

Xaden stepped closer to Genevieve now, his voice lowered but charged with intensity. “I was waiting until I could tell you in a way that didn’t—”

“Make you look like the selfish bastard you are?” Genevieve interjected harshly, her words hitting with the force of a blow. Her body was shaking, but not from the fatigue. It was from the rage she’d been suppressing since Imogen told her news that Xaden should have said in private. Since she’d realized that Xaden, despite everything they’d shared, still decided to withhold something so vital.

He flinched, a flash of regret crossing his face, but he didn’t retreat. “You know that’s not true,” he said quickly, but with conviction. “You know I never wanted this, but I didn’t want to make it worse either.”

”Worse?” Genevieve spat, her eyes blazing. “There is no ‘worse,’ Xaden. They’re dragons that bind our fate down to our own deaths and you let Imogen, someone who is practically a stranger, tell me? Instead of facing it and telling me you ran. You ran from me, from this, from everything.”

For a moment, the silence between them was deafening. The others in the gym held their breaths, waiting for the explosion. Genevieve’s breaths came in ragged gasps as she glared at him, waiting for him to say something—anything—that would justify his actions. But Xaden remained still, his expression unreadable as he weighed his next words carefully.

“I didn’t run,” he said finally, his voice like a storm on the horizon—low, dark, and gathering strength. “I’m here, aren’t I? Fighting for us, for whatever the hell this bond means.”

Genevieve’s gaze hardened further, but something flickered beneath her fury. His words had struck a chord, and for a brief second, she felt the weight of his own burdens, his fears. But it wasn’t enough to douse the fire inside her.

“And yet,” she whispered, stepping back, the space between them feeling like a chasm, “you keep pushing me away. Every time I get close, every time there’s a chance for something between us that isn’t just physical, you shut down. You keep your secrets, your plans, and now even this from me.”

The gym was still now, the air thick with unspoken tension. Everyone was watching, waiting for the next move. But Genevieve didn’t care. She was done playing his games, done being a pawn in a world of half-truths and manipulations.

“Maybe being bound to you really is the worst-case scenario,” she said bitterly, her voice cold as ice. “Because I don’t think I can trust you anymore.”

The mage light above her blew out in a craze of sparks and glitter, and it felt like her skin was on fire with… magic.

“Day one of dragon bonds,” Imogen started, awe laced into the sarcasm she normally carried.

“And Genevieve is already channeling.” Violet finished.

And with that, she turned on her heel, leaving the gym and a stunned silence in her wake, her anger radiating like heat off her skin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hello everyone! What’s up? I’ve currently written a few chapters ahead so I can keep updating twice a week for at least a few weeks, so hopefully this new schedule makes you all happy!

On another note, I just wanted to say thank you for all of your words of appreciation and your compliments, I seriously cannot believe you guys actually read what I write and for you to tell me how much you love it makes me so happy I want to cry.

Please, like and comment if you enjoyed and please let me know your thoughts! What’re your predictions on her signet? I want to know~

#violet sorrengail #fourth wing #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing imagine #fourth wing xaden #liam mairi #xaden and sgaeyl #xaden riorson x reader #xaden riorson #garrick tavis x reader #bodhi durran #the empyrean #the wounded healer

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medievalandfantasymelee · 2 months ago

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👑🌹The Queen of Love and Beauty🌹👑

Round 1 (3 of 6)

The Queen of Love and Beauty shall hold the honour of presenting unto the winner of the Tournament his Champion's Coronet.

Vote for the lady who, to you, best exemplifies feminine dignity, grace and loveliness

The six contenders with the most votes will advance.

Row 1 - Lucrezia Borgia [Holliday Grainger], The Borgias (2011-2013) - Giulia Farnese [Lotte Verbeek], The Borgias (2011-2013) - Elizabeth de Burgh [Florence Pugh], Outlaw King (2018)

Row 2 - Contessina de Bardi [Annabel Scholey], Medici (2016-2019) - Elizabeth Woodville [Rebecca Ferguson], The White Queen (2013) - Mary Boleyn [Charity Wakefield], Wolf Hall (2015-2024)

Row 3 - Anne Neville [Phoebe Fox], The Hollow Crown (2012-2016) - Kate Percy [Michelle Dockery], The Hollow Crown (2012-2016) - Margaret of Anjou [Sophie Okonedo], The Hollow Crown (2012-2016)

Row 4 - Eleanore of Aquitane [Katharine Hepburn], The Lion in Winter (1968) - Isabella of Valois [Emma Hamilton], RSC’s Richard II (2013) - Anne Boleyn [Genevieve Bujold], Anne of the Thousand Days (1969)

#queen of love and beauty #queen of the tournament #love and beauty round 1

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lsleofthelost · 5 months ago

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shades of being lovable

[read on AO3]

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

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

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

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

Including Mal.

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

***

Evie fell in love hard and fast.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

She even loves this stupid little rabbit.

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

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

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

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

“What are you doing?”

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

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

“What? No!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why the hell not, Blueberry?”

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

She always seems to notice Mal.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You shouldn’t cry so much over it.”

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, I know.”

“I wish it counted for something.”

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

***

Mal climbs the church tower that night.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This is where it gets fuzzy.

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

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

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

And what would that accomplish? He was right.

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

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

No one sees her cry.

#descendants #descendants fic #mal #evie #malvie #mal x evie #mal daughter of maleficent #evie daughter of the evil queen #mine*#mine*fic

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