#jour’s funeral

[caleism-1]

Setting: Jour’s funeral

Cale shouldn’t cry…

No matter how much he wants to… He shouldn’t…

It wasn’t that it would ruin their reputation with all these lowly bugs people around, since his father was crying along with many others.

It was actually because people would try to use him once he starts crying. Also because he would never be able to stop crying.

Nobles would try to take advantage of his weakness since kids are oh so gullible. They would try to get close to him and not his father because they believe he would be easier to use. Then they’ll try to make him a puppet or use him to get close to the count.

He can’t let that happen!

No matter how hard it is, he’ll just have to keep holding it back.

He could just cry all he wants when he gets back home.

He could just-

“Look at him, he isn’t even crying.”

"Is he not sad?"

"How could he be so insensitive?"

“Such a cold hearted child.”

"I pity the late countess.”

“Yeah! I feel bad for the count and the late countess for having to raise such a cold hearted child.”

Cale lightly bit his lips as he tried to tune out the whispers of the servants and nobles that came to the funeral.

He wanted to say that it wasn’t true. 

He also wanted to cry.

He wasn’t cold hearted.

Such thoughts filled his head as he tried to hide his discomfort from the piercing gazes that was aimed towards him.

He wished this could end faster.

(I was about to fall asleep but this idea popped up in my mind. It turned out better in my head…sorry for tainting your eyes)

[nonexistent-alfa]

Went back to reread the part where Cale visited Jour's grave and got the Annual Rings ancient power and... How come I didn't notice (or was it that I just forgot?) that Raon's attribute was slowly starting to manifest there. OMG!

And the part where Jour says "you need to be a part of the Thames household to use this power properly." I'm unsure if this is an implication to White Star's last body being a part of the Thames household or just saying that White Star would not have been able to use the power properly.

Also, this part

Our Cale is not a single lifer though? OgCale is a regressor and transmigrator, but our Cale is merely a victim of that transmigrator. Though he can be considered a variable since he did end up transmigrating into this world. However, instead of a transmigrator, Jour here calls him a single-lifer. Like the Choi's. Isn't it kinda...

I have a hunch that it somehow has something to do with Kim Roksoo sharing a birthday with the Choi's. Does everyone born on November 8th end up being a single lifer? But then there'd be thousands of them. There has to be a couple more criteria at least to be met to become a single lifer.

But if Cale really is a single lifer... I don't want him to turn out to be one. I don't want him to become a God either. I want him to live a long life with his family who also all have long life spans. But I want him to die first. I don't want him to attend the funeral of anyone in his family. He has seen enough loved ones die before him for a lifetime. Let him pass with all of his family surrounding him for once. Don't let him ascend to the divine or heavenly world after death either. Let him continue in the cycle of reincarnation. And let him find his family again in those cycles. Let him continue to be happy forever without remembering the pain of it all.

[noxiousgrace]

TCF/LCF headcanon

Honestly one of my favourite headcanons i have so far about krs and og!cale is the fact they're both able to draw

I have explanations for both

The reason krs is able to draw:

During the cataclysm, a lot of methods of recording things became very scarce. (We see this during the sealed gods test when krs relies on the abilities of other people to record whatever they'll need for the future. Information about monsters, how to deal with them, etc.)

And I'm assuming electricity relies on ability users as well considering how devastating the cataclysm was to earth. It would be hard to maintain a power plant during the beginning whilst not knowing how to survive in the new ruined world, so charging devices are out of the question. As far as batteries go, they aren't permanent solutions either, and would run out eventually.

And relying on ability users isn't easy either, first of all getting a power specifically needed for this issue is a very rare occurrence and people on earth aren't sure how these abilities are assigned (they do have theories that it's related to the og persons personality, but I haven't seen any confirmations on this. And i haven't finished reading book 2 of lcf so if the answer is a spoiler from that half then correct me if I'm wrong)

And krs received the ability to record everything he sees and to never forget it, he has the perfect opportunity to make physical copies of information and the subsequent imagery. This would make information accessible to everyone else and also raise their chances of survival because they won't be taking blind shots in the dark in intense situations.

There isn't a reason why krs would refuse to learn how to draw and show everyone what to be wary of.

I don't think he would've learnt how to draw as a kid. Doodles before his parents passed away? Definitely. After moving in with his uncle and having to survive the abuse that followed it? Probably not. (But this doesn't negate the fact he could've tried drawing his parents so he wouldn't forget them, but the quality of his work would've upset him and he could've given up on that along with everything else)

Another reason is to have identification of deceased bodies. He remembers everything, and would easily identify any corpse out in the field as long as he'd seen that person before their death.

In case any of their records or pictures got lost krs would make a sketch and they'd frame it and use it if they were capable of holding any funeral or adding the portrait to the tombstone. (I definitely believe making portraits of LSH and CJS definitely hurt him emotionally)

Why og!cale is able to draw

I don't have a very extensive headcanon as to why og!cale can draw, but i find the idea that he doesn't want to forget his mothers face very endearing. Plus he's from an artisan family and would have to be artistic at some level (well, violan is the artistic one since she values sculptures i think, correct me if I'm wrong) so she could've tried teaching him how to draw and sculpt as a way to bond with him and not leave him as an outcast in his own family. (Maybe she saw his earlier sketches and found his frustration in being unable to replicate jours face and decided to give him tips)

And if they do have a big portrait of jour in the house I'd like to think it was painted by cale

[kl125]

I’m not even a BRIIZE, and I usually don’t use this account for my kpop stuff, but this whole Seunghan/RIIZE situation genuinely has me pissed off. That man did NOTHING wrong. He smoked a cigarette and had a girlfriend, both BEFORE HE DEBUTED! Okay…and…? Why should that matter? That’s his life. Those are his choices. Idols are not our virtuous, innocent dolls to be packaged and sold to the masses. They are HUMAN BEINGS who deserve the freedom to live their private lives however they choose. To be essentially bullied out of a group when the other six members wanted him there and were supporting him is vile. And to make these announcements and decisions when the other members were out of the country and couldn’t immediately come to his defense is repugnant.

And before you jump in and say, “Leaving was his choice,” yes, that’s true, but judging from his statement, he felt like that was his ONLY option. He didn’t see any other solution. SM did not protect him from the hate. They KNEW there would be immediate backlash based on how this situation has unfolded from the beginning, but they should have also known it would eventually die down. They should have stood behind their choice to bring him back, and given him the support and protection he deserved. Once again, HE DID NOTHING WRONG EVEN FROM THE JUMP!

Instead, SM caved immediately to the demands of toxic OT6 stans rather than listening to the overwhelming support of actual BRIIZEs and the general public. It took hours for those funeral wreaths to be removed, and not before Seunghan was made to walk through them, ALONE I might add. I get that the OT6 “fans” were loud, but given time, they would have found a new “issue du jour” and moved on. That’s how it always works with toxic fans.

Anyway, SM sucks, I feel awful for the members, especially Seunghan, and RIIZE is SEVEN!

[visforvengeance]

un jour c'est toi que je partirai

Notes: Howdy! ok so this is a filler chapter. this was originally gonna be chapter 3 buuuut the way I started it wasn't matching how I wanted the chapter to end. so pls forgive me lmao. I wanted to get something out to you guys bc I know it's been a while since the last chapter. I still don't know if i want this series to end before the next season comes out or not but I'm def gonna keep writing itttt

Warnings: cursing? she/her pronouns. mentions of suicide, idk if this should be a tw but description of a panic attack, carmy is a perv in this lowkey. masturbation. when I said philip, i was totes talking about lip gallagher. not too much happens in this. please let me know if I missed anything and thanks for reading <3.

masterpost

“Mikey killed himself.”

He couldn’t do it. Where are you, Carmen? His brother’s funeral was today. You’re supposed to be here. He’s sorry, but he can’t. What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck? He still couldn’t believe it. Fuck, his chest was starting to hurt. He was getting sweaty, his hearing began to fade in and out, and he couldn’t breathe. He can’t fucking breathe. He can’t stop the tears or the sob that tore through him. It echoed throughout his apartment. Fuck this shit. 

He stood in disbelief as he looked upon the one restaurant that could have him shitting bricks. It looked old. And, familiar. And, not his, but absolutely fucking his now. Shit, he couldn’t fucking believe it. This fucking restaurant that haunted his dreams, that he spent his whole life chasing was officially his. He hurried to unlock the door and get inside. He hadn’t told anyone that he was back in Chicago. He wanted to embrace it on his own for a second. It still smelled the same, like Mikey and cigarettes, grease, bleach, and Mikey. 

He looked at the picture frames, news clippings, and awards scattered across the wall. He was starting to feel a bit overwhelmed. He hadn’t set foot inside this place in two years, and now his brother is dead and he’s standing in his restaurant. 

He heard the bell ring and turned to see his big sister, “Carmy?” God, did he miss her. He missed them all, he really did. Even insufferable Richie and fucking Fak. And, Y/N. He hadn’t let go of the last conversation they shared. His one shot at true love and he’d gone and fucked it all. Whatever.

He walked over to Natalie, embracing her dearly. “Hi, sis.” He smirked at her as she gasped and swatted his chest. “Why didn’t you tell me you were here? I would’ve gotten you from the airport,” she said with a frown. He shook his head as he waved her off. He smiled up at her, genuinely smiling. “I wanted to surprise you.” “Consider me surprised. So, had a chance to take a look around yet?” He sighed and shook his head. “James told me the store’s not really in good standing?” Natalie let out an exasperated sigh. “Fuck no. I don’t know what the hell Mikey has gotten himself into, Bear.” 

“You, uh, you know where he keeps the records and shit like that?” Natalie shook her head as she took a seat in one of the booths, “you’d have better luck asking Richie.” Ugh. Carmen loathed Richie. But, he tolerated him because he was family and Mikey’s best friend. “Have you seen him around lately?” “Yeah, I told him to meet me here so we could get a headstart on figuring out all of this shit.” Carmen sat in the seat across from Nat, “good. I bet he’ll have some idea.” Natalie nodded slowly as she thinned out her lips. “So,” she says as she clasps her hands together in front of her, “does Y/N know you’re here?” Fuck. She doesn’t know.

Honestly, he didn’t know if he should even tell her. Would she come to see him? Did he have a chance? He hadn’t seen or heard anything about her since Christmas dinner. “No, I haven’t spoken to her since Christmas.” He paused before speaking. “You know she told me she loved me that night?” Natalie had some idea of what was going on between them. Carmen, being the moody little brother he is, kept her out of his business as much as possible. And, Y/N tried to spare her the details for fear of grossing her out. 

“And, what did you say?” “That I loved her too.” For the first time, he was honest. So honest that it scared him. When he thinks back on that night, it almost makes him want to vomit. She felt bad for her brother, this need for Y/N but being unable to do anything about it was eating him up inside and anyone could tell that he wasn’t alright. Pair that with grief and an existential crisis, she didn’t know how he was managing. “How is she?” He knows Mikey’s death couldn’t have been easy for her either. “She’s..coping as best as she can.” He’d love nothing more than to be with her in moments like these, ones that you know you shouldn’t be going through alone. 

“She seeing anyone?” Carmen couldn’t help himself as he asked. Natalie hesitated before answering and that filled Carmen with such dread. “Um, some guy that she went to college with. I think his name is Philip?” He flinched like he was about to be hit. Now, he knows more than he’d like. “Are they like dating? Boyfriend and girlfriend?” Carmen wasn’t trying to pry information out of Natalie for his own personal gain, no way. He was simply inquiring about a friend. 

“Why are you asking?” Natalie was suspicious of the younger boy. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say he was planning to shoot his shot with Y/N (eventually). It’s about damn time. He shrugged, “Just curious.” She nodded, not believing a word he said. “As far as I know, they’re not too serious but definitely more than friends.” He could only imagine what that meant. Were they already having sex? That was not his business. He needs to get a grip on reality. He nodded and began to stand, just as he was doing so, Richie rushed inside. They hugged and began their bickering immediately after. Natalie just chuckled and walked away. 

Carmen was tired. So fucking tired. It hadn’t even been a full day and he’d endured so much bullshit. The ripping and running and trying to find a decent crew wore him out. He didn’t make it to his bed when he got to his apartment. Instead, he plopped down his couch. After a while, his mind drifted to her. He missed her. Fuck, when didn’t he? He found himself thinking about her constantly. What was she doing today? What did she eat? He was sure it wasn’t nearly as good as what he could make for her. She loved when he cooked for her, so he always did. Never did he allow her to even touch a cooking utensil. He never complained about it either. He loved it just as much. Maybe even more. 

Then, he began thinking about her warmth. He missed it so much that he craved it. It had been too long since he last felt her. Or smelled her scent. He wondered if her lips still felt or tasted the same. Was her skin still as soft as he remembered? Why the fuck is he doing this to himself? It was too late as he felt himself straining against his pants. 

He tried to ignore the lust that was creeping into his head. But, he couldn’t stop himself and he was getting harder the more he thought about her. She made him behave like a fucking pervert. He couldn’t take it anymore. He unbuttoned his pants and slid his hand inside his boxers. Pulling his cock out of his pants, he squeezed the base of it. This was fucking humiliating but it felt too good. He felt bad for thinking about her while doing this. But, he was doing it anyway.  He thought about her face as she was being pleasured, the sounds she’d make. He imagined it was him who made her cum. Just as she was beginning to reach climax, he was cumming all over his hand. He always came the hardest when he thought about her. The deep embarrassment was almost enough to make him never think about her like that, though. Almost. He cursed himself as he wiped his hand on his khakis. It was getting late and he figured he should get ready for bed. She never left his thoughts as he (finally) drifted to dreamland.

[blueteller]

Do you have more character analysis on og!Cale and how his relationships are with the other characters? Before and after transmigrating

Well, I'd love to, but..... here's the thing. For all the hype about OG Cale – and I'm definitely a member of that crowd, don't get me wrong – there isn't actualy... much about him. That is actually canon, I mean.

In fact, despite being one of the most popular characters in the fandom, OG Cale is only present in the novel for less than three full chapters in total (655-657), and all of them are spent mostly discussing how the war in the TBOAH timeline went down, not OG Cale's personal relationships.

Everything we know is all told through KRS!Cale perspective, who mostly just makes guesses and some pretty inaccurate assumptions. Sure, there was some stuff on how OG Cale treated his family in the TBOAH novels; but because "Nelan Barrow" did not really know the actual reason behind OG Cale choosing to act like trash... It's all extremely vague.

Nelan Barrow goes like: "OG Cale yelled at his servants yet never actually hit any of them, respected his father but kept distance from his family, and the closest person to a father figure he had was Ron Molan whom he treated like a human being". And that was basically everything, without any context added.

Ron had all of one flashback about OG Cale comforting his father after Jour's funeral. No explanation about Deruth's second marriage, about Basen – not even that they're not biologically related! OG Cale himself stated that "no matter how hard he tried to act like trash, they wouldn't kick him out", so that means the whole Henituse family did love OG Cale unconditionally. And also Ron and Beacrox were visibly quite tired of his nonsense by the time Cale transmigrated. But beyond that...

Well, to be fair, there were some minor characters sprinkled here and there who had a connection to OG Cale, before KRS!Cale got to meet them. There was Hans the butler, who was kind of scared of OG Cale... before he loosened up completely around KRS!Cale. And also there was the Eric Wheelsman, Gilbert Chetter and Amiru Ubarr trio; who were OG Cale's childhood friends because of their connection as North Eastern nobles. There was also the unnamed niece/OG Cale's reincarnated mom, and some Korean characters came up in the extras. They're all great characters, but... all of their relationships with OG Cale were exactly as one might expect: they're confused by OG Cale, yet overall like him (because for all the "trash personna" he did, OG Cale was never actually a bad person).

...Not much left to be said here.

And regarding the 20 years of war in the TBOAH timeline... OG Cale could be a biased narrator like Cale himself, but it sounded like he wasn't really anyone super important. He saw the confrontation between Choi Han and the White Star from the sidelines, not as someone close to the "main hero". He was just a soldier in the background of the battlefield. I doubt he talked to Choi Han even once.

Look, overall, most of OG Cale's relationships can be deduced or estimated from context – like the fact that despite his terrible reputation, no one who knew him actually hated him all that much – but in true canon, there's nothing much going on regarding his bonds with anyone aside his family. Yes, we can headcanon all kinds of drama based on Choi Han's violent actions in the beginning of TBOAH, followed by him leaving with both Ron and Beacrox without them saying goodbye to OG Cale... But that's all fan theories. In the TCF novel, OG Cale is a complete mystery for over 600 chapters.

...Which is probably why fans are so obsessed with him. Fleshing out OG Cale's character is super fun. No wonder there are so many Twin AUs, hahaha!

[jasmineaoi]

Kim roksoo and reincarnation cycled og!cale(before lcf-after tboah and malfunctioned deal).

Og!cale whose soul doesnt actually attached to any body unless it is the body confirmed in the deal. Which means he wont ever stay dead unless he died in kim roksoo's body. So it is a cycle of reincarnation or transmigration.

Og!cale who first reincarnate as a son of krs's neighbour. Their family being close friends and cale-roksoo being childhood friends. Cale with the older mentality completely taken by roksoo's cuteness and swears to take care of him. Cale who witness every misfortune; a friend's betrayal, a bullying, teacher's blatant discrimination. Every death; roksoo's beloved pets dying again and again, the fat gold fish, the melodious yellow bird, the cuddly black cat. And his every crying moments; the pain of being pushed, feeling the quiet rage of krs's parents towards the teacher and parents, in the hugs of krs's parents after every death. Cale is not ignorant, he have seen things, he knew that what happen to roksoo is not normal. So he vows, with that burning fire of passion to always stay with roksoo and came back no matter what.

...his first obstacle came with his death. And in the worst way possible too; he and his parents died alongside krs's parents in the (canon) car accident.

Cale's 2nd life is when he transmigrates in krs's uncle's body before going to the funeral. He saw how toxic their relatives were and was reminded of jour's funeral. He took roksoo in and determined to give him the best childhood he can give. A bit of dangers here and there but not what his veteran skill couldnt handle, making sure roksoo's mind is clear of bad things or curses, collecting money before the inevitable happen(no matter how offended he is about failing, he HAVE to be prepared, the curse only need to succeed once after all). Telling roksoo once about his vow during his previous life(he thought roksoo forgot, because it is said in nonchalance, because roksoo is young. Roksoo didnt). He died during the canon time of krs going to orphanage, due to some crazy psycho holding a knife while trying to protect roksoo(to be fair there's a lot of things going on at the time, a fire, evacuation rush, being in the wrong place at the wrong time), deadpanned yay more trauma... FUCK the gods! Thankfully he manage to secure his will and arrange everything to be given to roksoo when he is 18.

His 3rd is reincarnation as a red pomeranian puppy and proceedes to seduce the orphange's director after finding where roksoo is. He became a gurdian dog of roksoo and thwarted off every bullies. He barked and bitten the hell out of the irrensponsible caretakers and always made sure that roksoo is well fed, eventhough it means he had to steal from the kitchen or gave puppy dog eyes to the director. He died due to sickness(thankfully no traumatizing scene) a year before roksoo left the orphanage. Hey, he did well overcoming everything thrown by the curse with his small body at least(he ignore every close calls but not roksoo's trembling hands begging him to not leave). Too bad he wont get roksoo's indulgent pets and cuddles anymore, he understood why blackie(roksoo's late pet cat) loves to cuddle so much.

His 4th was in the body of an orphaned female student living with her grandma...and have a gender identity crisis. Choosing to fuck eveything, sHe searched for roksoo and may or may not become somewhat of a stalker for a lil bit of time(cale is unlucky this time, they're not in the same school and their home were far, lots of complications). Got caught by roksoo who held a pepper spray(which is quite amusing and cute). Not a good experience though. It was a bit rocky but they manage to get closer just a lil lil bit(sHe didnt realize that roksoo at this point is already suspecting something). There's less dangers from the curse though so it was fine(cale knew it was because roksoo closed off his love and affections. It was easier, safer, but he hated it). sHe died protecting krs from the hunter who aimed for both of their souls, but at least sHe got some updates from GoD through the person who saved krs. (Cale died requesting the person to erase krs's memories about her, to protect krs from remembering another traumatising scene, erase another reason for krs to close himself off even more). Krs forgets but the hole in his heart stayed.

Okay so..imma just...put it here..

...

kbye-

[calehenituse-brainrot]

Return

Cale Henituse | Kim Rok Soo x Transported!Reader

John meets the entity that have been asking for you, but with a cost.

content warning: violent stabbing, blood, choking on blood.

Deruth and Violan along with their kids stood in front of the mansion to greet their eldest child when they heard of him returning with the bodies of the victims. Violan let out a small gasp, hand covering her mouth when Cale got off his carriage, holding a soaking wet coat that she recognized all too well. After all, it was her that gifted you the coat, welcoming you as a part of the Henituse county back then. 

Cale approached his parents, holding the heavy coat and the hat that still has strands of your hair in it. Basen recognized the coat and hat, having had you wear them whenever you went out with him to have him learn under your wing to handle negotiations outside the duchy.  

"We could only find fifteen out of the seventeen victims," Cale reported, looking over to his father who looked defeated. "We couldn't find Captain John and [Name]."

All of their eyes drifted to the coat in his arms and Cale looked down as well. He looked up at his mother, the corner of her lips pulled down and eyes slightly glossy. "It's... all we could find of her out there."

"Oh, Cale," murmured Violan, placing a hand on her child's shoulder. "I'm so sorry."

Deruth feels ashamed of himself when he looks at his son. He glimmered with joy when Cale was born and looked so much like his mother instead of him and it destroys him when Jour died and left a son that will always remind Deruth of her because they looked so much alike. He couldn't face Cale back then and crumbled underneath his grief. Cale had just lost you after years of knowing and loving each other, having each other's backs knowing you both can always rely on one another.

Cale still stood with his head held high, holding the last part of you that the world had given him the mercy of having. He gets up and does what needs to be done, all by himself and doesn't rely on anyone else to take care of anything.

It's so out of place to see his son now, standing by himself with you nowhere to be seen.

"Why don't you and the kids go and--"

"It's fine," Cale cuts off. "I'll help with the funeral."

Deruth is a little happy that Cale was born and inherited Jour's good traits and none of his bad ones.

Deruth, Cale, Ron, and Hans took care of the funerals for the found victims first, handling the budget and also giving their families some money as comfort although they all know money could never replace a life. Ron found himself distraught at how familiar Cale was with sorting these things, working on them seamlessly, and even helping out Hans to deliver the news to the family as gently as possible, his words coming out almost robotic. A lot of money was taken out to pay compensation for the things lost at the sea though Deruth didn't look too fazed by the numbers Ron wrote after estimating the damages.

Cale did all of this while still going back to the sea with the search squad, hoping to find some hint of you. Rosalyn and Lock finally had the composure to join in, managing to find some of the things that had escaped your suitcase to bring back, a sense of closure overwhelming them all to know they get to keep something you once had. The kids came with him on the last day and resulted in nothing but despair that they had to return home without you, knowing that they have to return home and set up an empty grave for you.

Thankfully, some of your items in your room in the villa were still there, allowing the others to remind themselves of your presence whenever they wished to.

The one to frequent your room was Cale, staying for hours just sitting on your bed and not talking. The kids will accompany him, but most of the time, they see that he needed some time alone and process everything, so the most they'd do is peek at him from your doorway. Then there was Rosalyn, remembering the conversations you would have together in the room and your laughter and then there was Ron, who would come into your room to clean up although there was nothing much to do.

Perhaps thanks to that were the reason why no one shed any tears during your funeral. Everyone had already made peace with your death, especially Cale. The one to give out speeches were Deruth and a formal apology was delivered by Kore, the right hand of the captain for being negligent towards the weather, though it was obvious no one blamed her. Rosalyn stood next to Cale, seeing the man kept his gaze on your name engraved on a stone, face unchanging throughout the whole funeral.

"There was blood in her coat," Cale murmured to Rosalyn, eyes still at the shallow carve of your name on the stone. "She must have been the one to bleed to death."

Rosalyn's heart ached painfully and all she could do was let out a shaky sigh, recalling how Cale informed her how on the first day, a small area of the water was murky with blood but none of the bodies had any open wounds.

"At least she is no longer in pain," Alver says, standing by the other side of Cale, trying his best to ease the unsettling feeling of dread that sits within their chests upon knowing you did not go peacefully. 

Cale did not respond. A painful death was something he always wanted to avoid, hence all this trouble he took to make sure nothing could hurt him and his people, to eradicate all the danger the world could pose to them, but he had failed to remember that no matter how many ancient powers settled inside his flesh and bones, no matter the number of powerful allies he had made, and the many sacrifices he had done, death is inevitable and will always be painful.

The funeral comes to an end at some point – is it bad that he had stopped tuning into the whole ceremony? – and he realized that he must have been standing at the same place like a fool, staring at the carving of your name and holding onto the flowers he had bought on his way to the funeral.

He remembers that you don't have a favorite flower so he relied entirely on the florist to arrange a bouquet based on his request; "I am going to the funeral of a loved one."

The florist was of the Henituse duchy so with a solemn smile, they nodded and began picking out flowers and arranging them together. Cale did not miss how the florist is dressed in black, mourning over the many loss the duchy suffered.

"What kind of person are they? Miss [Name], I mean."

"Loved."

You were loved, not only by him but also by so many people that he silently hoped it was enough to make up for the fact that you didn't receive enough love from your past life. He hoped he have made you feel loved.

"Human?" Raon's timid voice calls for him, pulling him back into reality. He feels the tug on his trousers and remembered he was still standing in front of where you are supposed to be resting — it is empty, you are not there, and he will never find the comfort of having you here — and the kids were still by his side, waiting for him.

Everyone else must have left after seeing he made no move to leave himself. He's grateful that for once, people are feeling pity toward him. The world knows he needs some time alone.

Cale sees the abundance of flowers and trinkets left behind on your and Captain John's headstones. There were many more of those on both of your headstones, perhaps because both of them were empty graves and only serves as memorials. 

Cale got down on one knee, plucking one singular bellflower from the bouquet and then handing the bouquet to the kids. "Do me a favor and gift them to the other graves? We don't want the others to feel left out now, do we?"

The kids glanced at each other for a moment before they turned to look at him, nodding silently. Knowing Cale will need time, they head for the grave furthest away from yours, walking in threes as they decided that it would be better to be with each other instead of separating for now.

Cale turned to you, twirling the bellflower in between his fingertips. "It's a shame you left before we could sort out whatever it was between the two of us."

Cale sat down on the damp grass and ran a finger through the carving of your name, feeling every ridge of the stone as he spells out your name, knowing that if he called out for you now, he could no longer hear your voice, but it doesn't stop him from starting a conversation.

"Tell me, [Name]." Just a murmur of your name was enough to send a stinging pain into his chest. "Had I been more forward about my feelings to you, would it have made you stay?"

"Cale, don't do this again," pleaded the Super Rock. "Stop torturing yourself like this."

"I wanted to be with you," Cale continued. "And I think that's where I ruined things for us — for you."

Kim Rok Soo and Cale Henituse had many things in common – one of them is the fact that the world will always take whoever they loved, and another was that despite that fact, they have never once regretted loving that person.

"I'm sorry," he managed to whisper, placing the bellflower he had been twirling all this time on the smooth top surface of your headstone.

"I... love you."

The words come out flat, forced as if he couldn't bear to say them. The confession feels useless now that the object of his affection has died and he is speaking to an empty grave.

A dark talon appeared and carefully placed a white asphodel next to Cale's bellflower. The redhead looked up to see his kids, the three of them with solemn expressions as they stare at the headstone of their late friend. They have finished distributing the flowers to each grave as he asked them to, leaving the last flower for you.

"Good job," Cale praised them with a small smile.

Raon settled on Cale's lap while the two children sat on either side of him, staring at your headstone with flushed faces and red-rimmed eyes. 

"She's going to be all fine, wherever she is now," Cale reassured them, rubbing circles on Hong's back.

"Where is she now?" Ohn asked quietly, leaning towards Cale's side and gripping his coat. She feels like a child and she could not handle the thought of not being one, to shoulder the grief alone and be strong like the man currently being her pillar. 

"Somewhere peaceful," Cale answers. He doesn't believe in the concept of Heaven and Hell and he's not going to start now. "Somewhere we can't follow."

"I hope she's happy there."

Cale hums. "She's probably nagging at us right now for sitting on the grass with our good suits on."

The flowers lay limp on the cold surface of your headstone, slowly withering as each hour pass by with the four of them chatting together in front of your grave.

Weeks passed after the funeral. It takes time for everyone to adjust to the absence of you in the duchy but they got around it in no time and went back to work. 

Cale had begun to stay over at the Super Rock Villa instead of the Duke's estate a few days after the funeral, taking the kids along as they began to properly process their loss. Your death had affected their sleep, with the worst case being Ohn's constant midnight breakdowns whenever she had to face the fact that you are no longer alive.

It made sleeping difficult for Hong and Raon, so Cale had to set up a routine for Ohn and himself to walk around the villa and sit down in the drawing room to let Ohn talk about her feelings. She'll talk about you and her regret of not stopping you that night until she's tired and Cale would pick her up and tuck her in so she could have a comfortable night's sleep.

As for Cale himself...

"Cale-nim?"

Rosalyn pushed open the door of your bedroom, seeing Cale sitting on the chair of the small table you and Rosalyn would occupy to have tea and snacks. It is no longer a surprise for everyone in the villa to find Cale inside your room at odd times. He would sit inside with a candle lit on the table, casually reading your letters and other writings over and over again.

"Miss Rosalyn," Cale greeted, briefly lifting his gaze to look at the red-haired mage. "We meet again."

The two of them had been developing a bad habit of visiting your room whenever they were having trouble sleeping, though Rosalyn would say Cale's case was much worse than hers seeing as whenever Rosalyn would make a small visit to your room, she would always smell the scent of wax and smoke from the candle Cale always brings with him.

"We should start meeting like normal people," Cale continued, returning to your writings. "During daytime with proper lighting."

"Then it's best for you to head to your chambers, Cale-nim," Rosalyn says, eying how short the candle Cale has and how the wax that surrounds it has lumped into quite the size. He had been in here for a while.

"I suppose you're right." Without putting up a fight, Cale gathers the papers and lifts the candle holder, storing your letters back into your drawers. This only strengthen Rosalyn's suspicions that he had been here for a long time.

"Have a good night's rest, Miss Rosalyn," he murmured when he passed by her, not making a comment about the dark circles under her eyes and the way her face had sunken, no doubt the effects of grief.

The others find the time to visit and bask in what little trace you have to help them move on properly, but no one could defeat Cale's constant longing to be surrounded by you. He was the most frequent visitor of your room, going through your belongings simply to make sure they are still there — many worry it was becoming an obsession more than helping him heal.

Cage hears the click of your door for the first time today and pursed her lips into a thin line, sharing a look with the Sun Twins. Jack glanced up at the stairways, worry spread across his kind face while Hannah leans back to the couch, hands folded in front of her chest. They couldn't do much but let the man grieve, afraid of offending him if they were to try and have him stop visiting your room.

"Miss Cage."

Cage turned to look at the old butler, slightly surprised to see the man there. He fished out a sealed letter from the inside pocket of his vest, the wax that seals the letter bearing no insignia, but the handwriting that spells out Cage's name was enough for them all to know who was the sender.

"Miss [Name] instructed me to give this to you once things have settled down," he said while brushing down his vest. 

He initially wanted to deliver the letter after everyone had finally made peace with your death but by the looks and habits they've all been developing, Ron recognizes that it would be too long. He decided now that everyone was no longer in hysterics and was processing everything in their ways, it would be better to finally do your last wishes instead of holding onto them.

"What?" Cage asked, slightly spooked. "Did she know she was going to–"

"No," Ron answers, his voice slightly hoarse as he remembers your resolution to leave that night. "It would be better for you to read the letter she had left first before coming to me for anything you'd like to ask."

"Cage," Hannah calls, moving from the couch to sit beside Cage, Jack following along. "Open it"

Cage stare at your handwriting, her gut swirling with a feeling that made her want to throw up. She opens the letter and took out the paper inside, her heart immediately wrecking at seeing your handwriting. She wonders if this was what Cale feels whenever he reread your writings and if it was some sort of self-torture he does.

Cage focuses back to read your letter out loud for everyone in the room. 

In the letter, you confessed to feeling out of place and having no purpose after the war. You told her of the voices you had started to have in your head, urging you to leave them all and promising to lead you where you can find your purpose. Every time the voice speaks to you, you experienced heavy headaches and sometimes it was to the point of nosebleeds and nearly passing out.

"You might find me ridiculous for following a voice inside my head," Cage cited your letter. "But they sounded very familiar, like someone from my past life, and that frightens me. I suspect it is some type of God. Was it like this for you whenever you speak with the God of Death? It is very painful."

"During the day of the picnic, the voice told me to sail furthest away from the continent to find him. I find him, I find myself."

The extremely salty taste that lingers in his mouth and throat was the thing that greeted him when he was finally conscious. He opens his eyes and finally acknowledged that he was suffocating, chest filled with something that made him want to gag and throw up, so he did.

He coughs and forced himself to throw up whatever it was that was suffocating him and water spurts out of his throat and mouth in large quantities to the point he had to roll over and coughed them onto the sand to prevent himself from swallowing more water.

John dug his fingers into the warm sand and let himself cough out water until the weight on his chest lessen and he was no longer suffocating. Finally feeling better, he drops his back again to the sand and looks up at the bright sky. He stared at the floating clouds and the clear sky, needing a few seconds to process the fact that the pain in his throat and the sting of wounds around his body was enough proof that he hasn't died yet and this was not the afterlife.

He sat up, looking around the place he was in, figuring he must have washed up here, but for the love of Gods could not remember that an island existed close enough near the waters where the ship sunk.

John saw that the place he had washed up in did not have a beach that immediately connects to the sea, instead, the corners of the island had boulders and trees that curled up like a shallow bowl, sheltering him inside the island.

'How did I end up here?' John thought with a frown, looking around to see if there was a beach he could have missed but found more boulders and trees. In fact, the place seemed so green. There are trees, flowers, and moss growing nearly everywhere and John had half the mind to assume this must be an undiscovered island, seeing as everything was overtaken by nature.

Only then did he notice the sand that was beside him was slightly dyed red and it seemed something or someone had been dragged around until they got out of the sand deeper into the island, leaving a small trail of blood behind them.

John looks around the place once more before he followed the trail, his instinct screaming at him to go back and stay, but he continued walking. As he walks, the trees and hanging vines felt like they were beginning to close on him and he hurried his steps, walking until he came across an entrance of a ruin, the moss and vines that grows on the cobblestones ruining the structure. There are a few hanging vines that block the entrance like a small curtain.

John could see from the outside that the structure in front of him resembled a great hall of some sort, some of the roof destroyed and falling into it, sunlight striking the inside of the ancient hall to show John that the inside had a stone altar and a bundle of vines on top of it.

A hand slipped from the bundle of vines and John's eyes widened, now realizing that it was a body that was being dragged by the vines, half of its body hanging by the altar as they were being pulled to be placed on top of it.

A pale, familiar face and the [h/l] [h/c] hair was enough for John to rush inside.

"[Name]—!"

John rushed to your side, cupping your face with one hand and feeling the coldness of your skin, a grim reminder that you were simply just a corpse. He dug into the sheath strapped to his thighs and took out a knife. He cut away the vines surrounding you, not knowing what they were planning for you but he was determined to not have them desecrate your body.

It seemed with each vine cut, two more would grow and just as he was wondering what type of creature this was, he felt an excruciating pain in his back and chest. He gasped, clawing at the vine that had impaled him from the back, finding it ridiculously hard like steel. Blood spewed out from the corner of his mouth when thorns grew from the vine, doubling his agony.

"I knew you'd come."

The voice appears again in John's head and he realized in horror that they were brought here by the bastard.

"Y-you..." John tried to formulate his words but he dropped to his knees, tearing himself apart as the thorns damaged his stab further.

"You wouldn't bring her to me, so I had to do it myself," the voice continued, venom in its tone. 

John collapsed on the ground, one hand holding onto your arm. He leaned to the altar and began to feel himself choke on his blood. "N-no, [Name]—"

"Rest easy, my friend." 

John looked up to the destroyed roof of the ancient building, the sun blinding him and he could only think of how sorry he was to know Kore, his right-hand woman would not find his body and your own family's sadness to not find yours as well.

John's vision which had been blinded temporarily by the sunlight suddenly recovered and he realized that it was because something had blocked the sun. The vines have merged into forming a human-like silhouette that wore a hood, made entirely of thorned vines and flowers scattered here and there, its size similar to second-story inns.

"I've waited for so long." John could have sworn the voice speaks with so much more emotion this time as if they were holding back from saying too much.

The humanoid creature leaned down, a few tendrils of vine shooting out to your body.

"My daughter has returned to me."

[thebrickinbrick]

Waiting

DURING those hours of waiting, what did they do? We must needs tell, since this is a matter of history.

While the men made bullets and the women lint, while a large saucepan of melted brass and lead, destined to the bullet-mould smoked over a glowing brazier, while the sentinels watched, weapon in hand, on the barricade, while Enjolras, whom it was impossible to divert, kept an eye on the sentinels,

Combeferre, Courfeyrac, Jean Prouvaire, Feuilly, Bossuet, Joly, Bahorel, and some others, sought each other out and united as in the most peaceful days of their conversations in their student life, and, in one corner of this wine-shop which had been converted into a casement, a couple of paces distant from the redoubt which they had built, with their carbines loaded and primed resting against the backs of their chairs, these fine young fellows, so close to a supreme hour, began to recite love verses. What verses?

These:

Vous rappelez-vous notre douce vie, Lorsque nous étions si jeunes tous deux, Et que nous n'avions au cœur d'autre envie Que d'être bien mis et d'être amoureux, Lorsqu'en ajoutant votre age à mon age, Nous ne comptions pas à deux quarante ans, Et que, dans notre humble et petit ménage, Tout, même l'hiver, nous était printemps?

Beaux jours! Manuel etait fier et sage, Paris s'asseyait à de saints banquets, Foy lançait la foudre, et votre corsage Avait une épingle où je me piquais. Tout vous contemplait. Avocat sans causes, Quand je vous menais au Prado dîner, Vous étiez jolie au point que les roses Me faisaient l'effet de se retourner.

Je les entendais dire: Est elle belle! Comme elle sent bon! Quels cheveux à fiots Sous son mantelet elle cache une aile, Son bonnet charmant est à peine éclos. J'errais avec toi, pressant ton bras souple. Les passants crovaient que l'amour charmé Avait marié, dans notre heureux couple, Le doux mois d'avril au beau mois de mai.

Nous vivions cachés, contents, porte close, Dévorant l'amour, bon fruit défendu, Ma bouche n'avait pas dit une chose Que déjà ton cœur avait répondu.

La Sorbonne était l'endroit bucolique Où je t'adorais du soir au matin. C'est ainsi qu'une âme amoureuse applique La carte du Tendre au pays Latin.

O place Maubert! ô place Dauphine! Quand, dans le taudis frais et printanier, Tu tirais ton bas sur ton jambe fine, Je voyais un astre au fond du grenier. J'ai fort lu Platon, mais rien ne m'en reste; Mieux que Malebranche et que Lamennais Tu me démontrais la bonté céleste Avec une fleur que tu me donnais.

Je t'obéissais, tu m'étais soumise; O grenier doré! te lacer! te voir Aller et venir dès l'aube en chemise, Mirant ton jeune front à ton vieux miroir. Et qui donc pourrait perdre la mémoire De ces temps d'aurore et de firmament, De rubans, de fleurs, de gaze et de moire, Où l'amour bégaye un argot charmant? Nos jardins étaient un pot de tulipe; Tu masquais la vitre avec un jupon; Je prenais le bol de terre de pipe, Et je te donnais le tasse en japon.

Et ces grands malheurs qui nous faisaient rire! Ton manchon brûlé, ton boa perdu! Et ce cher portrait du divin Shakespeare Qu'un soir pour souper nons avons vendu!

J'étais mendiant et toi charitable. Je baisais au vol tes bras frais et ronds. Dante in folio nous servait de table Pour manger gaîment un cent de marrons. La première fois qu'en mon joyeux bouge Je pris un baiser a ton lèvre en feu, Quand tu t'en allais décoiffée et rouge, Je restai tout pâle et je crus en Dieu! Te rappelles-tu nos bonheurs sans nombre, Et tous ces fichus changés en chiffons? Oh que de soupirs, de nos cœurs pleins d'ombre, Se sont envolés dans les cieux profonds!(1)

The hour, the spot, these souvenirs of youth recalled, a few stars which began to twinkle in the sky, the funeral repose of those deserted streets, the imminence of the inexorable adventure which was in preparation, gave a pathetic charm to these verses murmured in a low tone in the dusk by Jean Prouvaire, who, as we have said, was a gentle poet.

In the meantime, a lamp had been lighted in the small barricade, and in the large one, one of those wax torches such as are to be met with on Shrove-Tuesday in front of vehicles loaded with masks, on their way to la Courtille. These torches, as the reader has seen, came from the Faubourg Saint-Antoine.

The torch had been placed in a sort of cage of paving-stones closed on three sides to shelter it from the wind, and disposed in such a fashion that all the light fell on the flag. The street and the barricade remained sunk in gloom, and nothing was to be seen except the red flag formidably illuminated as by an enormous dark-lantern.

This light enhanced the scarlet of the flag, with an indescribable and terrible purple.

(1) Do you remember our sweet life, when we were both so young, and when we had no other desire in our hearts than to be well dressed and in love? When, by adding your age to my age, we could not count forty years between us, and when, in our humble and tiny household, everything was spring to us even in winter. Fair days! Manuel was proud and wise, Paris sat at sacred banquets, Foy launched thunderbolts, and your corsage had a pin on which I pricked myself. Everything gazed upon you. A briefless lawyer, when I took you to the Prado to dine, you were so beautiful that the roses seemed to me to trn round, and I heard them say: Is she not beautiful! How good she smells! What billowing hair! Beneath her mantle she hides a wing. Her charming bonnet is hardly unfolded. I wandered with thee, pressing thy supple arm. The passers-by thought that love bewitched had wedded, in our happy couple, he gentle month of April to the fair month of May. We lived concealed, conent, with closed doors, devouring love, that sweed forbidden fruit. My mouth had not uttered a thing when thy heart had already responded. The Sorbonne was the bucolic spot where I adored thee from eve till morn. 'Tis thus that an amorous soul applies the chart of the Tender to the Latin country. O Place Maubert! O Place Dauphine! When in the fresh spring-like hut thou didst draw thy stocking on thy delicate leg, I saw a star in the depths of the garret. I have read a great deal of Plato, but nothing of it remains by me; better than Malebranche and than Lamennais thou didst demonstrate to me celestial goodness with a flower which thou gavest to me. I obeyed thee, thou didst submit to me; oh gilded garret! to lace thee! to behold thee going and coming from dawn in thy chemise, gazing at thy yourg brow in thine ancient mirror! And who, then, would forego the memory of those days of aurora and the firmament, of flowers, of gauze and of moire. when love stammers a charming slang? Our gardens consisted of a pot of tulips; thou didst mask the window with thy petticoat; I took the earthenware bowl and I gave thee the Japanese cup. And those great misfortunes which made us laugh! Thy cuff scorched, thy boa lost! And that dear portrait of the divine Shakespeare which we sold one evening that we might sup! I was a beggar and thou wert charitable. I kissed thy fresh round arms in haste. A folio Danto served us as a table on which to eat merrily a centime's worth of chestnuts. The first time that. in my joyous den, I snatched a kiss from thy fiery lip, when thou wentest forth, dishevelled and blushing, I turned deathly pale and I believed in God. Dost thou recall our innumerable joys, and all those fichus changed to rags? Oh! what sighs from our hearts full of gloom fluttered forth to the heavenly depths!”

[stardancerluv]

A Time to Love and to Fight

Part 16

Summary: Things…take a turn for Enjolras and his girl.

Notes/Warning: 18 & over please! This is a long chapter!

Reader is roughed up by Royal French soldiers, fingering, PV sex, implied soft!dom Enjolras, implied/squint breeding!kink with Enjolras, old school/dated thoughts about the male body, overall angst.

Thank you, for reading! Be nice! Feedback is welcome! Want to be tagged, please let me know! ❤️ and of course…Enjoy!

French Translations

My sweet angel. - Mon doux ange

Allow me to look upon your beauty. - Permettez-moi de contempler votre beauté.

But angel, but love I may be facing battle tomorrow and make you widower by days end. - Mais mon ange, mais mon amour, je pourrais affronter la bataille demain et te rendre veuf d'ici la fin des jours.

By a lie, a man... annihilates his dignity as a man —- Quote from Immanuel Kant

“Enjolras, my dear comrade look I understand he meant alot to you.” Grantaire pressed his lips together, Enjolras saw a sympathetic look washed over his comrade’s face. “He also helped where he could.”

The man glanced at the others before he looked back up at him. “But in the end, how does his passing effect us?”

Annoyance curled hotly in the pit of Enjolras’s stomach. He pushed himself off where he had been perching and walked over. “Simply, Lamarque was one of the last heroes of old that stood for the common man.”

Some of the men nodded, a few shrugged.

“Look,” Enjolras continued. “the people are just looking for reason to raise up. If we can get the Royal army to do something, perhaps we can provoke them and the people will come to our cause.”

“It’s never that easy.” His friend waved his hand around dismissively. “We’d do that and die.” Grantaire continued and crossed his arms in front of himself.

Enjolras leaned on the table, it creaked under this weight. He lowered his voice. “There’s bound to be a huge demonstration at his funeral. If we plan this right, what we will do now, will make history. France will finally be on its way to being a better place.”

******

With your heart in your throat, you hurried down the stairs and out of the building. How you would have loved to look up and see Enjolras’s face one more time but he had said that would not be a good idea. The quicker you got to the market and back home the better, he had said. You agreed. As you crossed the small courtyard your grip on the sack tightened while your heart squeezed.

You were grateful that the market was a few blocks away. Once there, you finally took a moment to stop, you had grown breathless in your haste. Glancing around, you were surprised at the number of tables that were already set up at that early hour.

Finding one to your liking you went over and found some soft sweet treats. These would be perfect for good cover. The seller wrapped them up and you gently placed them in your sack before turning and finally heading back home. You had never been away from home by yourself for so long. It was exciting.

******

Enjolras was helping to prepare. The guns, he and his comrades had needed to be cleaned. There could be no mistakes, no mishaps. He still had not taken a moment to properly mourn the passing of the man who had been like a second father to him. There was no time for sentiment. He would mourn later.

The bristles of the brush scrapped against the metal, taking away any dust or dirt. The oil cleaned what had grown dull. With a few quick moves, once again the gun was reassembled and ready to defend the life of the man who carried it. Enjolras did this with a rhythm. In the back of his mind he kept track of how many he had taken apart, cleaned and rebuilt. As the number grew, the more relaxed he grew for what would take place at the funeral.

“Enjolras,” He felt a hand on his shoulder, he flinched. “Enjolras.” The man repeated his named. He resisted making a sound of exasperation. Turning to finally see who it was and he smiled at the barman.

“Despiat? Early isn’t it?” Enjolras let out a sound of amusement but which was actually more of a twisted laugh. As he looked the lanky, barman up and down.

The man nodded. “Drinks and merriment are for later.” His mouth form a line. “But I wanted to give you what I could.”

That’s when Enjolras saw the small wooden box in the man’s worn hands.

******

A small smile played on your lips, as you tightened your shawl around your shoulders. You felt good, you secured the sweets and would be home shortly. The cover you and Enjolras had come up with was perfect.

Finally, you were not terribly far from home so as you walked along you let yourself relax. Memories of the night before swirled around in your minds eye.

You felt as your cheeks flushed at the memories. You were a real woman now you supposed, a small smile play on your lips. Images of him over you, blossomed in your mind’s eye. His curls were in disarray, you could practically feel the warmth of his breath. It made you tingle all over. Your fingertips could still feel the scruffiness his facial hair. You had fallen asleep with your fingers entwined, that had been nice.

A warmth had come over as your heart picked up its pace.

A scream was wrenched from you as hands grabbed you and felt yourself being pulled away. You began to struggle and laughter filled your ears. “Let me go!” You managed.

Your wind was knocked out of you as the banged you against as wall. Terrified, you looked around, they had pulled you into an alley.

“So what is a pretty girl like you walking the streets alone?”

You swallowed as you looked up at your assailants. Fear wrapped itself around your heart. Two royal soldiers were looming above you. Words got stuck in your mouth.

“Answer me.”

You looked from one to the other. Pain flashed hot as it burst across your face. The silent one smacked you. Without thinking you dropped the sack and placed a hand to your cheek.

“Don’t make me ask you again.” The one sneered.

“I…I was just grabbing something sweet for my mama, she’s ill.”

“So that’s whats in here.” The silent one finally spoke, holding up the sack.

“Yes. Please don’t.” You grabbed at it.

“Please don’t what?” The solider held up the sack, cackling.

“My mama is ill.” Your voice cracked.

You watched as they leaned together, one opened the sack. The one who spoke first looked at you. “There is more then one in there.”

“Yes.” You would not cry, you would not cry ; you repeated to yourself.

“Do you have more then one mama?”

Confusion filled you. You looked from one to another.

You yelped they pushed you against the wall.

“No, why?”

“You have more then one sweet in there.”

“That was…” You looked down, you knew what would happen now. Your heart sank.

“What girl we didn’t hear you?” You winced as one grabbed your upper arm.

You eyes flew up to look at him.

“Ow!” The solider howled and let go of your arm, you fell back against the wall.

You glanced over, your eyes widened when you saw Gavroche. He was throwing rocks.

“Run, girl!” He exclaimed and he threw a few more rocks. He glanced towards you and then back at the soldiers, he threw a more rocks. They forgot about you. The two of them turned and moved closer towards him. He turned and ran, they followed like dogs on a hunt.

******

Greta’s bony fingers tilted your face up to look it over. “You were so foolish.” She said in a huff, then pulled you close.

You desperately wanted to run away. You wanted to scream.

“Next time, come to me and I will bake something special for the you and your mother.”

“I know. I know.”

“Now go and lay down you must be in an awful state.” The old woman pulled back, her features finally softening. “We will not tell her.”

Your eyes watered. “Yes. Thank you.”

Taking the back stairs two at time, you were upstairs and at the door to your room in no time. Though, on the tips pf your toes, holding your breath you went to the closed door of your mama’s room. Your breathing was still was heavy but significantly better then its been in ages. With that giving you some comfort you went back to your room.

*******

Enjolras, sat with a book in front of him. He was in his usual corner of the tavern. Glancing out the window, he could see the sun day finally began to hang low in the sky. Part of him was eager to run, go and see you. Not caring what it would cause or do. Last night, he had pledged himself to you.

His concern over what may unfold around him, gave him pause. You were the reason for this. Sure, he had meant all he said to his comrades, to the others for them to harness their fears so that tomorrow could bring them a victory.

So with the sun setting and shadows stretching across the cobblestone streets, he read from a book the general had given him shortly after meeting. It had helped shaped him into the man he was today. It was a book, that shared philosophy of Immanuel Kant. The pages had grown worn from how many times he had read and read it. There was never a time this book didn’t give him a lesson or made him face some uncomfortable part of himself.

When he picked up the book today, he was hoping for a final moment of guidance. As his eyes moved across the sentences, he could practically hear the general’s voice. He remembered their past discussions.

His heart stilled as he read, By a lie, a man... annihilates his dignity as a man. As strong as if you were before him, he could see you in his mind’s eye.

“Enjolras, Enjolras.”

Inwardly he sighed, he should have stayed at the boarding house. A few moments alone, was all he truly wanted. Turning, he placed his finger in and closed the book around it.

“Yes, Gavroche.”

“It’s, it’s…” The young boy struggled and took several deep breathes.

“Calm down, I am sure everything is alright.” Enjolras could already feel a knot form in the pit of his stomach.

The boy shook his head. “No Enjolras, it’s the girl.” He scratched the back of his head, swallowing again. “The girl you had me walk home. Royal guards were roughing her up.”

Enjolras jumped to his feet. Distantly, he realized the book fell to the floor. He reached for it and stuffed it into his coat.” “What happened? Did they take her away.”

The boy shook his head. “No, I was walking by. I saw what was happening. I threw rocks at them.” The boy stood a little taller, and beamed up at him.

“What happened then?” His mouth grew dry.

“They gave chase.”

Enjolras looked the boy up and down. He appeared alright.

“I gave them the slip.” He cackled. “I waited and waited before finally creeping out from where I hid. I came straight from there to see you.”

Enjolras glanced behind them and then back at the boy.

“Tell the comrades, I had an urgent matter and will be back soon.”

******

After walking back to your room, you shed your soiled dress. In only your chemise exhaustion washed over you. You barely pulled your boots off when you fell fast asleep.

For the first time in what felt like far too long, Greta tended to you in your room. She felt your mama’s thoughts had best to remain clam. So what happened between and the soldiers would remain between the two of you. She served you lunch and then dinner in your room.

Still grappling all that you had to gone through emotionally, time was foggy with sleep. The soldiers had done put you in quite the emotional state.

With your mind and thoughts finally clear, it was an inky sky outside your window that greeted you. Feeling stifled, you tore your blankets aside. You legs felt wobbly as you began to pace. You didn’t know what to do. Should you go to the tavern looking for Enjolras or should you stay here. Sure, he said he’d visit in the garden but that was before the soldiers and what Gavroche did.

Wincing, you bit your lip. On quiet steps, grabbing a candle you went into the room reserved for bathing. Upon seeing your reflection, you clasped your hand over your mouth.

Your cheek was swollen; a bruise was forming where he had stuck your face. Tears prickled your eyes. The light flickered from the candle as your hand had begun to tremble. You immediately put the candle down. Brushing your sleeves aside, you chewed on your bottom lip as you saw the shadow of a bruises forming on your arms.

If you were honest with yourself there was also a soreness between your legs. Without thinking, you placed a hand there. Gently cupping yourself, you winced but oddly it felt good. Inhaling sharply and closing your eyes, scattered moments of the intimacy you shared with Enjolras, came to you. Your heartbeat grew faster.

Holding yourself brought a strain from your arms. You wondered if it was because of the bruises that circled your upper arms. You safely assumed that since they pushed you harshly against the stone wall, there was probably the smudges of bruises there as well.

The memory of the soldiers replaced the wonderful memories with Enjolras and it made your stomach churn.

Enjolras! You gasped. Would Gavroche tell him, you wondered. Oh, had Gavroche even been able to get away. You made a wish and truly hoped he had. You had to know.

Reaching up you brought down some powder. Mama, had used it when parties and dinner among friends lit up and filled this house with laughter and loud discussions. She loved, to look as pristine as possible. You smiled at the memory.

Father always told her she was his lovely doll, that she didn’t need any of the the powder or the rouge but she clung on hard to these traditions. Now, though to protect the heart of her beloved, you began dusting body your body. Before going back to your room and sprinkling some of the perfumed powder on, you gave your cheeks a kiss from the rouge.

******

He should just go to the front door, he wanted to take you away from here. Away from all of this. At this moment, he could not. Especially, with what would take place tomorrow, he couldn’t.

Once in the garden and after he dusted himself off. Seeing a few pebbles, he grabbed those. He saw what he hoped, was the flickering light of a candle, this he had to risk. He threw a few of them at your window. You didn’t come to the window, but the candle didn’t snuff out. His heart threatened to burst from his chest. He threw a few more.

His heart squeezed as he saw you come to the window. Turning, he went to lean against the will, he exhaled. He had not realized he was holding his breath.

******

Silly pigeon, you mused as sat at your vanity braiding your hair. Birds appeared to love scratching at your window. Grabbing a ribbon you used it to keep the braid in place.

Hearing the scuffle at the window again, turning where you sat you were prepared to shoo a bird away. Confusion, washed over you. Were those pebbles?

Getting up, you went to the window. Enjolras, was there! Warmth and happiness immediately filled you. Turning, and sitting, you pulled then fastened on your boots. Eyeing the two dresses you laid out, you chose your deep blue one. With butterflies in your stomach you crept out to him.

******

Hearing the ruffling in the leaves, he knew you were there. Stepping forward, he remained under the huge willow.

“Enjolras!” You whispered.

He smiled, you pulled a soft sound from him as you practically knocked him over your enthusiasm. He wrapped his arms around you. “Mon doux ange.” He murmured into your hair.

You smiled up at him. “I am so glad you are here.”

Inwardly, all of him stilled seeing how even in the moonlight he could see how the powder laid on you. “Permettez-moi de contempler votre beauté.

You nodded. Pulling back a mask of unease covered your face. “Enjolras, tell me Gavroche is alright?” You turned around slowly before facing him again.

“My sweet girl knows that I know.” You and the dress did a fair job, but it still made him ill to know this happened to you.

You nodded again, looking away.

He closed the distance between the two of you. Easily, he pulled you against him. “Don’t look away from me.” He swallowed; in the moonlight he saw how your eyes flashed as you looked up at him. “I had not meant for my words or sentiment to sound so harsh.” He let his arms around you loosen. Just being around you again and he saw differences.

“Don’t.” He felt as you moved against him, you brought his arms tighter. “In your arms, is the only place I feel safe.”

He gingerly brought his finger tips up, just under the swelling. “But look” The finger you placed on his lips, stole his words.

“We were apart.”

Finally, he was the one who nodded.

You lips were soft when they met his. Hesitation, filled him as he only barely pressed his lips against yours.

******

Anguish filled you. You couldn’t explain all that swirled around inside of you. “Enjolras. I need your kisses.” A desperation that clawed at your heart.

“There is a bruise.” His thumb gently grazed where the swell started.

You would not let what they did make you flinch under your love’s touch. “Make me forget it.”

He kissed you, as his lips met yours once again his arms tightened. You clung onto him.

******

“These kisses will be my undoing love.” Enjolras told you later. How much later, he truly didn’t know. Clouds had passed over head, stars had continued to twinkle and the moon moved distinctly higher in the sky.

“Then we shall become undone together.” You whispered, your fingers fluttering in his curls.

“Yes, but only mere day after making you my heart I do not want to rut in you like an animal on the ground.”

“You won’t, this is our special escape our secret place.”

“Mais mon ange, mais mon amour, je pourrais affronter la bataille demain et te rendre veuf d'ici la fin des jours.”

“Alors, mon amour, ne me fais pas l'amour.”

Silently he eased you from his arms to the soft moss beside the two of you. His jacket was already folded and to the side of the tree. He brought his face close to yours, kissing you softly. “Are you sure angel?”

“Yes.” You nodded.

Kissing you again, he opened his vest. Only the did he allow one of his hands to smooth over the softness of your curves. In doing so, his arousal which blossomed while kissing you was growing stronger, making his heart thud harder in his chest. First, slowly he loosened the bow in front of your dress, so his access to your bosom was to his liking.

With his stomach, tightening he met your eyes above where your heart beat as hard as his own. “Love, remember that unlike the night before, your sweet sounds cannot be terribly loud. I do not wish for us to have to explain things.”

You nodded. “Yes, I will be careful.”

He hands caressed at you, loving how through the soft cotton of your dress he could feel the erect buds of your nipples. Your breathing shallower and a soft sound was pressed from your lips.

“Feel good?” He whispered.

You nodded. “Yes.” You managed to breath out.

Gently pulling the fabric down one of your breasts was freed, not hesitating any longer he placed kisses and licked at your nipple. Your fingers in his hair brought a tremble from him.

He could not be slow and languid tonight, he was sure you felt the same. As he licked and nipped at you, he brought up the skirts of your dress. Seeking a breath, seeing your soft legs in just their stockings and boots, his arousal pressed hotly against his trousers.

He glanced up and met your eyes, “You are magnificent. Please free yourself from under undergarment that causes a delicate barrier between us.” He softly requested.

Shifting, and lifting your hips, he bit down onto his bottom lip as once again your mound, your soft center was there for him. He eased himself upon you, so he could look into your eyes. Gently, he moved his hand from caressing your hip went and cupping you softly. He sighed doing so.

“Thank you, my love.” He whispered.

He felt as you gently rubbed against him.

“How do you feel there my love? I am a brute, I have not even asked if you are alright.”

A soft, shy peel of laughter came from you, that made his heart beat in a manner different then he was accustomed to but very much welcome.

“Mon amour, at the memory of you I have only felt achy flutters and a strong desire to feel you once again.” In the moonlight, even under the powder and false blush, he could see your cheeks darken further. “If I may be so bold?” Your eyes twinkled.

“Yes, love. I do love hearing these sweet words of your desire.” He replied kissing you, while he did he gave you a soft possessive squeeze.

It was muted because of the kiss, but he practically paused in kissing you to smile. He relished what he could pull from you. Eager, he slipped two fingers between your soft folds. They were greeted by soft warmth. You were more then ready with the wetness that had easily flowed from your need of him. He moved his fingers over you.

He delighted in watching as you writhed or hearing the small little moans came from you. Once again, he found the little bud between your soft folds, he could see and feel as you grew more excited under his touch. It was beautiful. It made him harder then before. He could not wait any longer.

Moving back, he placed his hands on his trousers. His hand trembled as he undid the buttons. Easing himself between your legs. Opening his trousers and inhaling he took himself out.

“Enjolras?” You whisper, raising yourself up onto your elbows.

He grew harder seeing you like this.

“Yes, angel.”

“May I feel you?”

His stomach tightened, he nodded. “You may.”

Sitting up, he gently took your hand to him. “Be very gentle.”

“I will.”

His breath shallowed further as your hand explored him. He brought his hand over yours, you smiled. “So very different. But I like it.” He gently drew you down to his balls.

“This love, is where the spark of life begins.” With his hand, he help you cup him.

A soft sound came from you that made his stomach tighten deliciously.

“They feel quite heavy and full.”

Gently, you squeezed. It sent sparks of pleasure through him. His excitement to spill in you grew inside of him.

Your eyes, heavy lidded met his. “I can’t wait any longer. I need you Enjolras.”

You laid back down, and it appeared as if you actually opened yourself further for him.

Leaning on his one hand, he drew closer you as he held himself in the other. Gently he, slipped himself between you petal soft folds. A soft moan came from both of you as anticipation fell over the two of you.

He bit his bottom lip to suppress a moan as he slid into you. You whimpered and writhed under him, it felt amazing but he had to be sure.

“Angel, you ok?” Once again you felt so right.

“Yes, feels so good.”

With one arm he held you close as he began to slide in and out of you, while with the other he braced himself against the soft ground under the two of you. He moaned as he felt you pulled him even closer.

“Yes. Yes.” He murmured. “My angel.” He panted.

Hearing you pant his name as you clung to him added to his excitement. “I’m here.”

Bringing your lips to his, your lips and tongues expressed and echoed your bodies. Breathes were shortened while your bodies followed the dance of their passion.

He could feel as your body tightening around him, making him break the kiss and practically growl with pleasure into your shoulder.

You clung harder to him, whimpering. “ am so close, Enjolras…Enjolras.” You panted and the you met his body and spasmed with your pleasure.

“Yes. Yes.” He panted and soon, he felt himself cumming hard and deep within you. It felt so good. Out of breath he met your eyes and your lips met then as you both kissed each other down from the passion that erupted between the two of you.

*******

The trunk of the willow was firm and gave him good support as he sat with his back against it. You were curled up to his side, you had dozed off for a small amount of time. He let you. It gave him time to think. It would probably be best if you stayed there. In case something did happen. He didn’t want those at the boarding house to hold you responsible.

Feeling you stir, he knew that soon he would have to leave. He glanced down at you, he gave you a soft smile.

“Hello sleepy angel.”

Your lashes fluttered as you met his eyes. “Hi.” You replied softly.

He smiled broader as you played with one of the buttons on his vest.

“You have to go soon, don’t you?”

“I do.”

*****

Your heart lurched painfully. His words were whispered in your head. That he may make you a widow tomorrow. You knew he was always prepared to die, but what could possibly be happening tomorrow.

You played with one of the buttons of his vest, nervousness blossomed in you. He gave you a bigger smile, it almost melted away your worries.

“What is happening tomorrow?” You finally felt brave enough to ask.

“General Lamarque has died.”

“What? He was a hero. My father had always referred to him as a good man.” You recalled moments where your father spoke of how he was a hero of France.

He nodded. “He had taken ill, it finally claimed him.” He swallowed.

“Oh.” You whispered.

“I have to say it again, your father was a smart man. I certainly believe him and I would have gotten along.”

You were certain, your father would have loved to have a man like Enjolras courting you. You chewed on the inside of your cheek. You nodded. “I do believe the two of you would have.”

“Tomorrow is General Lamarque’s funeral.”

Concern, shot through you making you sit up. There would be so many Royal Guards. What could he and his comrades be up to.

“What are you and the others doing?” The words flew out of your mouth before you could stop them. Fear blossomed and formed knots in your stomach. You covered your mouth, you shot Enjolras a look before looking down at your lap, you brought your hands to rest there.

“I’m sorry. That’s not my place…I just..after today the Royal Army really scared me and…and I worry about you.” You glanced at him.

Moving from the tree, he was pulled you close. You felt as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“I know you’re worried.”

You nodded and looked at him, tears prickled your eyes.

“I will come back to you. Tomorrow night, I will be holding you here.” He whispered.

“You better.”

Shifting, you grabbed at your braided hair. Loosening the ribbon, you undid the bow. You made a tight bow on one of the eyelets of his vest.

“Now, you will have part of me with you.”

He gave you a half smile, his thumb grazed it gently. “Yes, you will be.”

@aftertheglitterfades @sebastianstvns @dealswiththedevilsblog @randomstory56 @pl1nfa1 @phantomxoxo @ladybug0095 @the-iridescent-phoenix @maryan028 @netusha @kindablackenedsuperhero @amethyst-serenade @crazyworldofsiani @moondev1l @eddiethebloodiedhand @lluviamg06 @samunson83 @craftyhufflepuff @julieteagk @gretavankleep37 @little-wormwood

[siren-sashimi]

More ideas for a marquis fanfic (tryna keep it unique, lol)

1: what if the reader was a civilian trying to find her brother (who she doesn’t know was in the assassin world and was killed) and while investigating crosses paths with the marquis?

2: reader is pregnant and dealing with cravings. A cute fluffy fic

3: reader owns a pastry shop the marquis is a patron at.

4: the reader tries to leave the marquis because they can’t take the relationship (maybe the danger that comes with the marquis or he’s too controlling) and he stops the reader before they can leave Paris (can be cute or dark, your choice)

5: aside from romantic relationships, what would it be like being the sibling of the marquis?

Hey, hey anon! Glad to hear from you once more. ^^ There's no pressure for you to be unique, if you feel like chatting about le connard du jour, my inbox is all but ready. :D

Hmm, I wouldn't have any ideas yet but if any other writer finds it appealing, feel free to make something wonderful with the dear anon's prompt. I'm mostly hesistant because Vincent moves on a very specific place of a secret parallel world, extra layer of filthy stinking wealth, making his crossing towards civilian life a bit harder, and him getting interested by accident is a bit harder for me to imagine. There must be something intriguing in the other for him to get interested, let alone care; in my mind at least.

I don't know if I'm any good at fluff, especially since I think the topic of children is an extremely touchy subject in the fickle world of assassins. But when it comes to food topics...

...you're in luck. Recently I read the mad genius food porn "Butter" by Yuzuki Asako in which food is layered with social commentary, thought about the self, lust for joy, lust for life, gender dynamics, worth by looks. (If the story sounds interesting to you, I highly recommend giving it a try. It was like a literary banquet to me.) Meaning I'm extremely open to the idea of sensuality expressed in the joys of food, extremely well made food. Here, another snippet you inspired me to write, thank you. (x) (btw, this was the reason the reply comes in that late... Sorry, I got very carried away with entire chapter outlines because I'd so many ideas for the meals that could be served. If anyone's interested I might put up as well.)

Oh gosh this can only go terribly bad... I'm pretty certain that Vincent, especially when he made it into the position of a Marquis, would be unbearably egocentric. Which means he wouldn't understand why he isn't all one could wish for. At all. There're already two such scenarios out there but I'm dabbling in an outline. Note that in the movie Vincent might be way too sure that his plans suceed with his methods. Still, like when he noticed sending the entire Parisian underworld after John Wick failed, he doesn't delude himself thinking he might still suceed. He just desperately throws more money at the problem. So I don't think that he's an unrealistic person yet one who's too used to getting what he wants, and not exactly good at fine methods. If that's his way to solve problems... oh boy...

Before we start I would like to preface that I like to use Skarsgård's idea of the Marquis coming from an impoverished background who has made it to the top. In can the relationship going two ways a) The siblings never really got along, chose different paths in life, and barely see each other. They might meet at funerals or weddings but only if Vincent can make it, by now the sibling isn't counting on him anymore actually. Not without a tinge of bitterness that remains in the mouth for longer than expected... Sometimes Vincent drops by randomly; less out of affection but more because he needs a hideaway after getting into trouble. When his sibling is in need of money or get their first child an anonymous deposit lands on their bankaccount with some more poetic variation of "thanks for letting me crash on your couch". Still, no noticable affections, no frequent, let alone scheduled visits... b) Co-dependent, verging on unhealthy. cw: emotionally difficult relationship, threats, emotional blackmailing, unhealthy sibling dynamic From the two of them, Vincent is the highly ambitious one to make it out of his life. Violence, lying, backstabbing, force are all fair means to his end. The only actual affection he has, the only one sparking humane feelings is for his sibling. In his egoism and strong drive, Vincent is the more dominant one. Even if the other sibling doesn't have a meek personality, they know at some point that they'll always find themselves in the wash of their driven sibling. Vincent will drag them with them to a better life. And Vincent needs his sibling. The only person he can trust, he knows will never betray or pose a threat to him. Maybe he will allow them to life their own life albeit be it in his design. Him being always close enough to receive comfort, encouragement, and a hideaway when needed. Their siblings knows a lot of disturbing stuff Vincent did to make it this far... It's upsetting, he did so much for them. They can't out a single sound to no one. Oh, if the sibling ever wants to make decisions causing Vincent to worry if they would prioritize affection for some else but him, he can get mean, frantic, even vaguely threatening to take the sibling's life style comfort away like cutting money for higher education, making it impossible to find a new place to rent or buy, get them fired. (Let's just say, dating includes the partner desperately needing Vincent's approval. If the reader ever wants to gets kids, they should urgently plan out an entire strategy how to slowly selling Vincent on the idea of becoming an uncle, and how of course he would be the most involved uncle of them all.) Then there's also the aspect that Vincent is a man envied by many. He might use them as pawn or bait with or without his sibling's knowledge. By times the sibling has to interrupt their own life because they're in danger from Vincent's enemies - again and again.... The worst is, Vincent is too headstrong to admit to his wrongs. He even justifies it that so much he did is for them too. But the reader lives well, they're happy they're out of their birthplace. A calm home, maybe a little garden, a fulfilling job, some holidays, a good life, that's all. They don't want more, why does Vincent act as if he needed to do all of that for more, more, and more his own sibling neither wants or needs? As much as they love him, in the end the only end to his means is Vincent himself.

[caleism-1]

Ok. Here me out.

I need an au where no one has heard them talk before until now. Like, people probably assumed they were mute because of this and were shocked when they randomly say something while… I don’t know.. The fam was having an argument or can’t decide on something. They don’t even say a lot too-

(Kinda like this)

“He can talk!?”

Tcf ver

After his hyungs died krs spoke less and less until he just didn’t. He still lead great though (signals, arm movements, power points kinda, notes, actions, etc). It’s just, by the time the switch happened, it didn’t seem weird for him to not speak.

Speaking of which (pun kinda not intended).

After Jour’s funeral, Cale had also started speaking less. BUT DON’T THINK THATS GONNA STOP HIM!! He has a pretty mean glare-

By the time he was around 11 - 12 he stopped (a slow process like Roksu).

You know that noble meeting that explained why he had a black set? I can just imagine him darkly smirking.

Anyways-

The first time someone would here him speak would probably be the touching moment Choi han and Cale had to boost morale (hug <3)

(But before that, Cale would probably whisper in someone’s ear and they would probably think that person is crazy if they try to tell someone else. lol. This doesn’t have to happen)

DP x DC ver

Everyone was there. The whole fam was there. A pretty big argument was happening. Probably Batman and Jason.

Danny walks in drinking a smoothie, says something, and walks out.

And everyone was like “???!!”

Because Danny-

Has been there for at least 11 months almost a year.

Danny who has never spoken all this time just-

Huh???

[pompadourpink]

The Stranger

Aujourd'hui, maman est morte. Ou peut-être hier, je ne sais pas. J'ai reçu un télégramme de l'asile : « Mère décédée. Enterrement demain. Sentiments distingués. » Cela ne veut rien dire. C'était peut-être hier.

Today, Mum died. Or maybe yesterday, I don't know. I got a telegram from the asylum: "Mother dead. Burial tomorrow. Sentiments distingués." It doesn't mean anything. Maybe it was yesterday.

L'asile de vieillards est à Marengo, à quatre-vingts kilomètres d'Alger. Je prendrai l'autobus à deux heures et j'arriverai dans l'après-midi. Ainsi, je pourrai veiller et je rentrerai demain soir. J'ai demandé deux jours de congé à mon patron et il ne pouvait pas me les refuser avec une excuse pareille. Mais il n'avait pas l'air content. Je lui ai même dit : « Ce n'est pas de ma faute. »

The old people's home is in Marengo, eighty kilometres from Algiers. I will take the bus at two o'clock and arrive in the afternoon. That way I can stay up and I'll be back tomorrow evening. I asked my boss for two days off and he couldn't refuse me with an excuse like that. But he didn't look happy. I even told him, "It's not my fault."

Il n'a pas répondu. J'ai pensé alors que je n'aurais pas dû lui dire cela. En somme, je n'avais pas à m'excuser. C'était plutôt à lui de me présenter ses condoléances. Mais il le fera sans doute après-demain, quand il me verra en deuil. Pour le moment, c'est un peu comme si maman n'était pas morte. Après l'enterrement, au contraire, ce sera une affaire classée et tout aura rev��tu une allure plus officielle.

He did not answer. I thought then that I should not have told him that. In short, I had nothing to apologise for. It was rather for him to offer me his condolences. But he will probably do so the day after tomorrow, when he sees me in mourning. For the moment, it's as if Mum hasn't died. After the funeral, on the contrary, it will be a closed affair and everything will have taken on a more official air.

J'ai pris l'autobus à deux heures. Il faisait très chaud. J'ai mangé au restaurant, chez Céleste, comme d'habitude. Ils avaient tous beaucoup de peine pour moi et Céleste m'a dit : « On n'a qu'une mère. » Quand je suis parti, ils m'ont accompagné à la porte. J'étais un peu étourdi parce qu'il a fallu que je monte chez Emmanuel pour lui emprunter une cravate noire et un brassard. Il a perdu son oncle, il y a quelques mois.

I took the bus at two o'clock. It was very hot. I ate at the restaurant, at Céleste's, as usual. They all felt very sorry for me and Celeste said, "We only have one mother. When I left, they walked me to the door. I was a bit dizzy because I had to go up to Emmanuel's house to borrow a black tie and an armband. He lost his uncle a few months ago.

J'ai couru pour ne pas manquer le départ. Cette hâte, cette course, c'est à cause de tout cela sans doute, ajouté aux cahots, à l'odeur d'essence, à la réverbération de la route et du ciel, que je me suis assoupi. J'ai dormi pendant presque tout le trajet. Et quand je me suis réveillé, j'étais tassé contre un militaire qui m'a souri et qui m'a demandé si je venais de loin. J'ai dit « oui » pour n'avoir plus à parler.

I ran so as not to miss the start. This hurry, this race, it is because of all this no doubt, added to the bumps, the smell of petrol, the reverberation of the road and the sky, that I dozed off. I slept for most of the journey. And when I woke up, I was pressed up against a soldier who smiled at me and asked me if I had come from far away. I said "yes" so I wouldn't have to talk anymore.

L'asile est à deux kilomètres du village. J'ai fait le chemin à pied. J'ai voulu voir maman tout de suite. Mais le concierge m'a dit qu'il fallait que je rencontre le directeur. Comme il était occupé, j'ai attendu un peu. Pendant tout ce temps, le concierge a parlé et ensuite, j'ai vu le directeur : il m'a reçu dans son bureau. C'était un petit vieux, avec la Légion d'honneur. Il m'a regardé de ses yeux clairs. Puis il m'a serré la main qu'il a gardée si longtemps que je ne savais trop comment la retirer. Il a consulté un dossier et m'a dit :

The asylum is two kilometres from the village. I walked all the way. I wanted to see my mother straight away. But the caretaker told me I had to meet the director. As he was busy, I waited for a while. During all this time, the concierge talked and then I saw the director: he received me in his office. He was a little old man, with the Legion of Honour. He looked at me with his light eyes. Then he shook my hand, which he held for so long that I didn't know how to take it back. He consulted a file and said to me:

« Mme Meursault est entrée ici il y a trois ans. Vous étiez son seul soutien. » J'ai cru qu'il me reprochait quelque chose et j'ai commencé à lui expliquer. Mais il m'a interrompu : « Vous n'avez pas à vous justifier, mon cher enfant. J'ai lu le dossier de votre mère. Vous ne pouviez subvenir à ses besoins. Il lui fallait une garde. Vos salaires sont modestes. Et tout compte fait, elle était plus heureuse ici. » J'ai dit : « Oui, monsieur le Directeur. » Il a ajouté : « Vous savez, elle avait des amis, des gens de son âge. Elle pouvait partager avec eux des intérêts qui sont d'un autre temps. Vous êtes jeune et elle devait s'ennuyer avec vous. »

"Mme Meursault came here three years ago. You were her only support. I thought he was reproaching me for something and I started to explain. But he interrupted me: "You don't have to justify yourself, my dear child. I read your mother's file. You could not support her. She needed care. Your wages are modest. And all in all, she was happier here. I said, "Yes, Director." He added: "You know, she had friends, people her own age. She could share with them interests that are from another time. You are young and she must have been bored with you.

C'était vrai. Quand elle était à la maison, maman passait son temps à me suivre des yeux en silence. Dans les premiers jours où elle était à l'asile, elle pleurait souvent. Mais c'était à cause de l'habitude. Au bout de quelques mois, elle aurait pleuré si on l'avait retirée de l'asile. Toujours à cause de l'habitude. C'est un peu pour cela que dans la dernière année je n'y suis presque plus allé. Et aussi parce que cela me prenait mon dimanche - sans compter l'effort pour aller à l'autobus, prendre des tickets et faire deux heures de route.

It was true. When she was at home, Mum used to follow me with her eyes in silence. In the first days she was in the asylum, she often cried. But that was just habit. After a few months, she would have cried if she had been taken out of the asylum. Always because of habit. That's why in the last year I hardly went there anymore. And also because it took up my Sunday - not to mention the effort of going to the bus, getting tickets and driving two hours.

Le directeur m'a encore parlé. Mais je ne l'écoutais presque plus. Puis il m'a dit : « Je suppose que vous voulez voir votre mère. » Je me suis levé sans rien dire et il m'a précédé vers la porte. Dans l'escalier, il m'a expliqué : « Nous l'avons transportée dans notre petite morgue. Pour ne pas impressionner les autres. Chaque fois qu'un pensionnaire meurt, les autres sont nerveux pendant deux ou trois jours. Et ça rend le service difficile. »

The director spoke to me again. But I hardly listened to him anymore. Then he said, "I suppose you want to see your mother. I got up without saying anything and he preceded me to the door. On the stairs he explained, "We took her to our little mortuary. So as not to impress the others. Every time a resident dies, the others are nervous for two or three days. And that makes the service difficult.

Nous avons traversé une cour où il y avait beaucoup de vieillards, bavardant par petits groupes. Ils se taisaient quand nous passions. Et derrière nous, les conversations reprenaient. On aurait dit d'un jacassement assourdi de perruches. À la porte d'un petit bâtiment, le directeur m'a quitté : « Je vous laisse, monsieur Meursault. Je suis à votre disposition dans mon bureau. En principe, l'enterrement est fixé à dix heures du matin. Nous avons pensé que vous pourrez ainsi veiller la disparue. Un dernier mot : votre mère a, paraît-il, exprimé souvent à ses compagnons le désir d'être enterrée religieusement. J'ai pris sur moi, de faire le nécessaire. Mais je voulais vous en informer. » Je l'ai remercié. Maman, sans être athée, n'avait jamais pensé de son vivant à la religion.

We passed through a courtyard where there were many old men, chatting in small groups. They were silent as we passed. And behind us, the conversations started again. It sounded like the muffled chatter of parakeets. At the door of a small building, the director left me: "I leave you, Mr Meursault. I am at your disposal in my office. In principle, the funeral is scheduled for ten in the morning. We thought that you would be able to keep an eye on the deceased. One last word: your mother, it seems, often expressed to her companions the desire to be buried religiously. I have taken it upon myself to make the necessary arrangements. But I wanted to inform you. I thanked him. Mum, without being an atheist, had never thought about religion while she was alive.

Je suis entré. C'était une salle très claire, blanchie à la chaux et recouverte d'une verrière. Elle était meublée de chaises et de chevalets en forme de X. Deux d'entre eux, au centre, supportaient une bière recouverte de son couvercle. On voyait seulement des vis brillantes, à peine enfoncées, se détacher sur les planches passées au brou de noix. Près de la bière, il y avait une infirmière arabe en sarrau blanc, un foulard de couleur vive sur la tête.

I entered. It was a very bright room, whitewashed and covered with a glass roof. It was furnished with chairs and X-shaped trestles. Two of them, in the centre, held a bier with its lid on. Only shiny screws, barely sunken, could be seen sticking out of the boards, which had been painted with walnut stain. Next to the bier was an Arab nurse in a white smock, a brightly coloured scarf on her head.

À ce moment, le concierge est entré derrière mon dos. Il avait dû courir. Il a bégayé un peu : « On l'a couverte, mais je dois dévisser la bière pour que vous puissiez la voir. » Il s'approchait de la bière quand je l'ai arrêté. Il m'a dit : « Vous ne voulez pas ? » J'ai répondu : « Non. » Il s'est interrompu et j'étais gêné parce que je sentais que je n'aurais pas dû dire cela. Au bout d'un moment, il m'a regardé et il m'a demandé : « Pourquoi ? » mais sans reproche, comme s'il s'informait. J'ai dit : « Je ne sais pas. » Alors tortillant sa moustache blanche, il a déclaré sans me regarder : « Je comprends. »

At that moment, the caretaker came in behind my back. He must have been running. He stammered a little, "We've got it covered, but I've got to unscrew the bier so you can see it." He was approaching the bier when I stopped him. He said, "Don't you want to?" I said, "No." He paused and I was embarrassed because I felt I shouldn't have said that. After a while, he looked at me and asked, "Why?" but without reproach, as if he was inquiring. I said, "I don't know. Then twirling his white moustache, he said without looking at me, "I understand."

Il avait de beaux yeux, bleu clair, et un teint un peu rouge. Il m'a donné une chaise et lui-même s'est assis un peu en arrière de moi. La garde s'est levée et s'est dirigée vers la sortie. À ce moment, le concierge m'a dit : « C'est un chancre qu'elle a. » Comme je ne comprenais pas, j'ai regardé l'infirmière et j'ai vu qu'elle portait sous les yeux un bandeau qui faisait le tour de la tête.

À la hauteur du nez, le bandeau était plat. On ne voyait que la blancheur du bandeau dans son visage. Quand elle est partie, le concierge a parlé : « Je vais vous laisser seul. »

He had beautiful eyes, light blue, and a slightly red complexion. He gave me a chair and himself sat a little behind me. The guard got up and went to the exit. At that moment the caretaker said to me, "She has a canker. As I didn't understand, I looked at the nurse and saw that she was wearing a blindfold under her eyes that went around her head.

At the level of the nose, the blindfold was flat. All you could see was the white of the blindfold on her face. When she left, the caretaker spoke, "I will leave you alone."

Je ne sais pas quel geste j'ai fait, mais il est resté, debout derrière moi. Cette présence dans mon dos me gênait. La pièce était pleine d'une belle lumière de fin d'après-midi. Deux frelons bourdonnaient contre la verrière. Et je sentais le sommeil me gagner. J'ai dit au concierge, sans me retourner vers lui : « Il y a longtemps que vous êtes là ? » Immédiatement il a répondu : « Cinq ans » - comme s'il avait attendu depuis toujours ma demande.

I don't know what gesture I made, but he remained standing behind me. This presence at my back was bothering me. The room was full of a beautiful late afternoon light. Two hornets were buzzing against the canopy. And I could feel myself falling asleep. I said to the caretaker, without turning round, "Have you been here long? Immediately he replied, "Five years" - as if he had been waiting for my request all along.

Ensuite, il a beaucoup bavardé. On l'aurait bien étonné en lui disant qu'il finirait concierge à l'asile de Marengo. Il avait soixante-quatre ans et il était Parisien. À ce moment je l'ai interrompu : « Ah, vous n'êtes pas d'ici ? » Puis je me suis souvenu qu'avant de me conduire chez le directeur, il m'avait parlé de maman. Il m'avait dit qu'il fallait l'enterrer très vite, parce que dans la plaine il faisait chaud, surtout dans ce pays. C'est alors qu'il m'avait appris qu'il avait vécu à Paris et qu'il avait du mal à l'oublier. À Paris, on reste avec le mort trois, quatre jours quelquefois. Ici on n'a pas le temps, on ne s'est pas fait à l'idée que déjà il faut courir derrière le corbillard. Sa femme lui avait dit alors : « Tais-toi, ce ne sont pas des choses à raconter à Monsieur. » Le vieux avait rougi et s'était excusé. J'étais intervenu pour dire : « Mais non. Mais non. » Je trouvais ce qu'il racontait juste et intéressant.

Afterwards, he chatted a lot. He would have been surprised to be told that he would end up as a concierge at the Marengo asylum. He was sixty-four years old and a Parisian. At that moment I interrupted him: "Ah, you're not from here? Then I remembered that before taking me to the director, he had spoken to me about my mother. He had told me that she had to be buried very quickly, because it was hot on the plain, especially in this country. Then he told me that he had lived in Paris and that it was difficult to forget her. In Paris, you stay with the dead sometimes for three or four days. Here you don't have time, you haven't gotten used to the idea that you have to run after the hearse. His wife had said to him: "Shut up, these are not things to tell the gentleman." The old man blushed and apologised. I intervened to say: "No, no, no. No, I didn't." I thought what he was saying was right and interesting.

Dans la petite morgue, il m'a appris qu'il était entré à l'asile comme indigent. Comme il se sentait valide, il s'était proposé pour cette place de concierge. Je lui ai fait remarquer qu'en somme il était un pensionnaire. Il m'a dit que non. J'avais déjà été frappé par la façon qu'il avait de dire : « ils », « les autres », et plus rarement « les vieux », en parlant des pensionnaires dont certains n'étaient pas plus âgés que lui. Mais naturellement, ce n'était pas la même chose. Lui était concierge, et, dans une certaine mesure, il avait des droits sur eux. La garde est entrée à ce moment. Le soir était tombé brusquement. Très vite, la nuit s'était épaissie au-dessus de la verrière. Le concierge a tourné le commutateur et j'ai été aveuglé par l'éclaboussement soudain de la lumière. Il m'a invité à me rendre au réfectoire pour dîner. Mais je n'avais pas faim.

In the little morgue, he told me that he had entered the asylum as a pauper. As he felt able-bodied, he had offered himself for the position of caretaker. I pointed out to him that he was, in fact, a boarder. He told me that he was not. I had already been struck by the way he said: "they", "the others", and more rarely "the old", when talking about the boarders, some of whom were no older than he was. But of course, it was not the same thing. He was a caretaker, and to some extent, he had rights over them. The guard entered at that moment. The evening had fallen suddenly. Soon it had become darker over the canopy. The caretaker turned the switch and I was blinded by the sudden splash of light. He invited me to go to the refectory for dinner. But I was not hungry.

Il m'a offert alors d'apporter une tasse de café au lait. Comme j'aime beaucoup le café au lait, j'ai accepté et il est revenu un moment après avec un plateau. J'ai bu. J'ai eu alors envie de fumer. Mais j'ai hésité parce que je ne savais pas si je pouvais le faire devant maman. J'ai réfléchi, cela n'avait aucune importance. J'ai offert une cigarette au concierge et nous avons fumé.

He then offered to bring me a cup of coffee with milk. As I like coffee with milk very much, I accepted and he came back a moment later with a tray. I had a drink. Then I felt like smoking. But I hesitated because I didn't know if I could do it in front of my mother. I thought about it, it didn't matter. I offered the caretaker a cigarette and we smoked.

À un moment, il m'a dit : « Vous savez, les amis de Madame votre mère vont venir la veiller aussi. C'est la coutume. Il faut que j'aille chercher des chaises et du café noir. » Je lui ai demandé si on pouvait éteindre une des lampes. L'éclat de la lumière sur les murs blancs me fatiguait. Il m'a dit que ce n'était pas possible. L'installation était ainsi faite : c'était tout ou rien. Je n'ai plus beaucoup fait attention à lui. Il est sorti, est revenu, a disposé des chaises. Sur l'une d'elles, il a empilé des tasses autour d'une cafetière. Puis il s'est assis en face de moi, de l'autre côté de maman. La garde était aussi au fond, le dos tourné. Je ne voyais pas ce qu'elle faisait. Mais au mouvement de ses bras, je pouvais croire qu'elle tricotait. Il faisait doux, le café m'avait réchauffé et par la porte ouverte entrait une odeur de nuit et de fleurs. Je crois que j'ai somnolé un peu.

At one point he said to me, "You know, your mother's friends are going to come and watch her too. That's the custom. I have to go and get some chairs and black coffee. I asked him if we could turn off one of the lamps. The glare of the light on the white walls was making me tired. He told me it was not possible. The installation was like that: it was all or nothing. I didn't pay much attention to him anymore. He went out, came back in, arranged some chairs. On one of them, he stacked cups around a coffee pot. Then he sat down opposite me, on the other side of Mum. The guard was also at the back, with her back turned. I couldn't see what she was doing. But from the movement of her arms, I could tell she was knitting. It was a mild day, the coffee had warmed me up and through the open door came the smell of night and flowers. I think I dozed off a bit.

C'est un frôlement qui m'a réveillé. D'avoir fermé les yeux, la pièce m'a paru encore plus éclatante de blancheur. Devant moi, il n'y avait pas une ombre et chaque objet, chaque angle, toutes les courbes se dessinaient avec une pureté blessante pour les yeux. C'est à ce moment que les amis de maman sont entrés. Ils étaient en tout une dizaine, et ils glissaient en silence dans cette lumière aveuglante. Ils se sont assis sans qu'aucune chaise grinçât. Je les voyais comme je n'ai jamais vu personne et pas un détail de leurs visages ou de leurs habits ne m'échappait. Pourtant je ne les entendais pas et j'avais peine à croire à leur réalité.

It was a graze that woke me up. Having closed my eyes, the room seemed to me even more brilliantly white. There was not a shadow in front of me, and every object, every angle, every curve, was drawn with a purity that hurt the eyes. It was at this point that Mum's friends came in. There were about ten of them, and they glided silently through the blinding light. They sat down without a single chair creaking. I could see them as I have never seen anyone before, and not a detail of their faces or their clothes escaped me. Yet I could not hear them and could hardly believe their reality.

Presque toutes les femmes portaient un tablier et le cordon qui les serrait à la taille faisait encore ressortir leur ventre bombé. Je n'avais encore jamais remarqué à quel point les vieilles femmes pouvaient avoir du ventre. Les hommes étaient presque tous très maigres et tenaient des cannes. Ce qui me frappait dans leurs visages, c'est que je ne voyais pas leurs yeux, mais seulement une lueur sans éclat au milieu d'un nid de rides. Lorsqu'ils se sont assis, la plupart m'ont regardé et ont hoché la tête avec gêne, les lèvres toutes mangées par leur bouche sans dents, sans que je puisse savoir s'ils me saluaient ou s'il s'agissait d'un tic. Je crois plutôt qu'ils me saluaient. C'est à ce moment que je me suis aperçu qu'ils étaient tous assis en face de moi à dodeliner de la tête, autour du concierge. J'ai eu un moment l'impression ridicule qu'ils étaient là pour me juger.

Almost all the women wore aprons and the drawstring around their waists still showed their bulging bellies. I had never noticed before how much belly old women could have. The men were almost all very thin and held canes. What struck me about their faces was that I couldn't see their eyes, only a dull gleam in a nest of wrinkles. When they sat down, most of them looked at me and nodded awkwardly, their lips all eaten up by their toothless mouths, and I couldn't tell if they were greeting me or if it was a tic. I rather think they were greeting me. It was at this point that I realised that they were all sitting across from me nodding their heads, around the caretaker. For a moment I had the ridiculous impression that they were there to judge me.

Peu après, une des femmes s'est mise à pleurer. Elle était au second rang, cachée par une de ses compagnes, et je la voyais mal. Elle pleurait à petits cris, régulièrement : il me semblait qu'elle ne s'arrêterait jamais. Les autres avaient l'air de ne pas l'entendre. Ils étaient affaissés, mornes et silencieux. Ils regardaient la bière ou leur canne, ou n'importe quoi, mais ils ne regardaient que cela. La femme pleurait toujours. J'étais très étonné parce que je ne la connaissais pas. J'aurais voulu ne plus l'entendre. Pourtant je n'osais pas le lui dire. Le concierge s'est penché vers elle, lui a parlé, mais elle a secoué la tête, a bredouillé quelque chose, et a continué de pleurer avec la même régularité. Le concierge est venu alors de mon côté. Il s'est assis près de moi. Après un assez long moment, il m'a renseigné sans me regarder : « Elle était très liée avec Madame votre mère. Elle dit que c'était sa seule amie ici et que maintenant elle n'a plus personne. »

Shortly afterwards, one of the women started to cry. She was in the second row, hidden by one of her companions, and I could hardly see her. She was crying in small, regular cries: it seemed to me that she would never stop. The others didn't seem to hear her. They were slumped, dull and silent. They were looking at the bier or their cane, or whatever, but that was all they were looking at. The woman was still crying. I was very surprised because I didn't know her. I didn't want to hear her anymore. But I didn't dare tell her. The caretaker leaned over to her, spoke to her, but she shook her head, mumbled something, and continued to cry with the same regularity. The caretaker then came to my side. He sat down beside me. After a long time, he told me without looking at me: "She was very close to your mother. She says she was her only friend here and now she has no one."

Nous sommes restés un long moment ainsi. Les soupirs et les sanglots de la femme se faisaient plus rares. Elle reniflait beaucoup. Elle s'est tue enfin. Je n'avais plus sommeil, mais j'étais fatigué et les reins me faisaient mal. À présent c'était le silence de tous ces gens qui m'était pénible. De temps en temps seulement, j'entendais un bruit singulier et je ne pouvais comprendre ce qu'il était. À la longue, j'ai fini par deviner que quelques-uns d'entre les vieillards suçaient l'intérieur de leurs joues et laissaient échapper ces clappements bizarres. Ils ne s'en apercevaient pas tant ils étaient absorbés dans leurs pensées. J'avais même l'impression que cette morte, couchée au milieu d'eux, ne signifiait rien à leurs yeux. Mais je crois maintenant que c'était une impression fausse.

We stayed like that for a long time. The woman's sighs and sobs became less frequent. She sniffed a lot. At last, she fell silent. I was no longer sleepy, but I was tired and my kidneys ached. Now it was the silence of all these people that was painful for me. Only from time to time I heard a peculiar noise and I could not understand what it was. Eventually, I guessed that some of the old men were sucking the insides of their cheeks and letting out these strange popping sounds. They didn't realise it because they were so absorbed in their thoughts. I even had the impression that this dead woman, lying in their midst, meant nothing to them. But I now believe that this impression was wrong.

Nous avons tous pris du café, servi par le concierge. Ensuite, je ne sais plus. La nuit a passé. Je me souviens qu'à un moment j'ai ouvert les yeux et j'ai vu que les vieillards dormaient tassés sur eux-mêmes, à l'exception d'un seul qui, le menton sur le dos de ses mains agrippées à la canne, me regardait fixement comme s'il n'attendait que mon réveil. Puis j'ai encore dormi. Je me suis réveillé parce que j'avais de plus en plus mal aux reins. Le jour glissait sur la verrière. Peu après, l'un des vieillards s'est réveillé et il a beaucoup toussé. Il crachait dans un grand mouchoir à carreaux et chacun de ses crachats était comme un arrachement. Il a réveillé les autres et le concierge a dit qu'ils devraient partir. Ils se sont levés. Cette veille incommode leur avait fait des visages de cendre. En sortant, et à mon grand étonnement, ils m'ont tous serré la main - comme si cette nuit où nous n'avions pas échangé un mot avait accru notre intimité.

We all had coffee, served by the concierge. Then, I don't know. The night passed. I remember that at one point I opened my eyes and saw that the old men were asleep, all on top of each other, except for one who, with his chin on the back of his hands clutching the cane, was staring at me as if he was waiting for me to wake up. Then I slept again. I woke up because my back was getting worse and worse. The day was slipping by on the canopy. Shortly afterwards, one of the old men woke up and he coughed a lot. He was spitting into a large checked handkerchief and each spit was like a tear. He woke up the others and the caretaker said they should leave. They got up. This uncomfortable vigil had made their faces ashen. On the way out, and to my astonishment, they all shook hands with me - as if that night when we hadn't exchanged a word had increased our intimacy.

J'étais fatigué. Le concierge m'a conduit chez lui et j'ai pu faire un peu de toilette. J'ai encore pris du café au lait qui était très bon. Quand je suis sorti, le jour était complètement levé. Au-dessus des collines qui séparent Marengo de la mer, le ciel était plein de rougeurs. Et le vent qui passait au-dessus d'elles apportait ici une odeur de sel. C'était une belle journée qui se préparait. Il y avait longtemps que j'étais allé à la campagne et je sentais quel plaisir j'aurais pris à me promener s'il n'y avait pas eu maman.

I was tired. The concierge took me to his house and I was able to wash up a bit. I had some more coffee with milk, which was very good. When I came out, it was completely light. Over the hills that separate Marengo from the sea, the sky was full of redness. And the wind that passed over them brought here a smell of salt. It was a beautiful day ahead. I had been in the country for a long time and I could feel what a pleasure it would have been to go for a walk if it hadn't been for Mother.

Mais j'ai attendu dans la cour, sous un platane. Je respirais l'odeur de la terre fraîche et je n'avais plus sommeil. J'ai pensé aux collègues du bureau. À cette heure, ils se levaient pour aller au travail : pour moi c'était toujours l'heure la plus difficile. J'ai encore réfléchi un peu à ces choses, mais j'ai été distrait par une cloche qui sonnait à l'intérieur, des bâtiments. Il y a eu du remue-ménage derrière les fenêtres, puis tout s'est calmé. Le soleil était monté un peu plus dans le ciel : il commençait à chauffer mes pieds. Le concierge a traversé la cour et m'a dit que le directeur me demandait. Je suis allé dans son bureau. Il m'a fait signer un certain nombre de pièces. J'ai vu qu'il était habillé de noir avec un pantalon rayé. Il a pris le téléphone en main et il m'a interpellé : « Les employés des pompes funèbres sont là depuis un moment. Je vais leur demander de venir fermer la bière. Voulez-vous auparavant voir votre mère une dernière fois ? » J'ai dit non. Il a ordonné dans le téléphone en baissant la voix : « Figeac, dites aux hommes qu'ils peuvent aller. »

But I waited in the courtyard, under a plane tree. I breathed in the smell of fresh earth and I was no longer sleepy. I thought of my colleagues in the office. At that hour they were getting up to go to work: for me, it was always the most difficult hour. I thought about these things for a while longer, but I was distracted by a bell ringing inside the buildings. There was some commotion behind the windows, and then everything calmed down. The sun had risen a little higher in the sky: it was beginning to warm my feet. The caretaker came across the courtyard and told me that the director was asking for me. I went into his office. He made me sign a number of documents. I saw that he was dressed in black with striped trousers. He took the phone in his hand and called out to me: "The undertakers have been here for a while. I will ask them to come and close the coffin. Do you want to see your mother one last time before then?" I said no. He ordered into the phone, lowering his voice: "Figeac, tell the men they can go."

Ensuite il m'a dit qu'il assisterait à l'enterrement et je l'ai remercié. Il s'est assis derrière son bureau, il a croisé ses petites jambes. Il m'a averti que moi et lui serions seuls, avec l'infirmière de service. En principe, les pensionnaires ne devaient pas assister aux enterrements. Il les laissait seulement veiller : « C'est une question d'humanité », a-t-il remarqué. Mais en l'espèce, il avait accordé l'autorisation de suivre le convoi à un vieil ami de maman : « Thomas Pérez. » Ici, le directeur a souri. Il m'a dit : « Vous comprenez, c'est un sentiment un peu puéril. Mais lui et votre mère ne se quittaient guère. À l'asile, on les plaisantait, on disait à Pérez : « C'est votre fiancée. » Lui riait. Ça leur faisait plaisir. Et le fait est que la mort de Mme Meursault l'a beaucoup affecté. Je n'ai pas cru devoir lui refuser l'autorisation. Mais sur le conseil du médecin visiteur, je lui ai interdit la veillée d'hier. »

He then informed me that he was going to attend the funeral, and I thanked him. Sitting down behind his desk, he crossed his short legs and leaned back. Besides the nurse on duty, he told me, he and I would be the only mourners at the funeral. It was a rule of the Home that inmates shouldn’t attend funerals, though there was no objection to letting some of them sit up beside the coffin, the night before. “It’s for their own sakes,” he explained, “to spare their feelings. But in this particular instance I’ve given permission to an old friend of your mother to come with us. His name is Thomas Pérez.” The warden smiled. “It’s a rather touching little story in its way. He and your mother had become almost inseparable. The other old people used to tease Pérez about having a fiancée. ‘When are you going to marry her?’ they’d ask. He’d turn it with a laugh. It was a standing joke, in fact. So, as you can guess, he feels very badly about your mother’s death. I thought I couldn’t decently refuse him permission to attend the funeral. But, on our medical officer’s advice, I forbade him to sit up beside the body last night.”

Nous sommes restés silencieux assez longtemps. Le directeur s'est levé et a regardé par la fenêtre de son bureau. À un moment, il a observé : « Voilà déjà le curé de Marengo. Il est en avance. » Il m'a prévenu qu'il faudrait au moins trois quarts d'heure de marche pour aller à l'église qui est au village même. Nous sommes descendus. Devant le bâtiment, il y avait le curé et deux enfants de chœur. L'un de ceux-ci tenait un encensoir et le prêtre se baissait vers lui pour régler la longueur de la chaîne d'argent. Quand nous sommes arrivés, le prêtre s'est relevé. Il m'a appelé « mon fils » et m'a dit quelques mots. Il est entré ; je l'ai suivi.

For some time we sat there without speaking. Then the warden got up and went to the window. Presently he said: “Ah, there’s the padre from Marengo. He’s a bit ahead of time.” He warned me that it would take us a good three-quarter of an hour, to walk to the church, which was in the village. Then we went downstairs. The priest was waiting just outside the mortuary door. With him were two acolytes, one of whom had a censer. The priest was stooping over him, adjusting the length of the silver chain on which it hung. When he saw us he straightened up and said a few words to me, addressing me as, “My son.” Then he led the way into the mortuary.

J'ai vu d'un coup que les vis de la bière étaient enfoncées et qu'il y avait quatre hommes noirs dans la pièce. J'ai entendu en même temps le directeur me dire que la voiture attendait sur la route et le prêtre commencer ses prières. À partir de ce moment, tout est allé très vite. Les hommes se sont avancés vers la bière avec un drap. Le prêtre, ses suivants, le directeur et moi-même sommes sortis. Devant la porte, il y avait une dame que je ne connaissais pas : « M. Meursault », a dit le directeur. Je n'ai pas entendu le nom de cette dame et j'ai compris seulement qu'elle était infirmière déléguée. Elle a incliné sans un sourire son visage osseux et long. Puis nous nous sommes rangés pour laisser passer le corps.

I noticed at once that four men in black were standing behind the coffin and the screws in the lid had now been driven home. At the same moment I heard the warden remark that the hearse had arrived, and the priest starting his prayers. Then everybody made a move. Holding a strip of black cloth, the four men approached the coffin, while the priest, the boys, and myself filed out. A lady I hadn’t seen before was standing by the door. “This is Monsieur Meursault,” the warden said to her. I didn’t catch her name, but I gathered she was a nursing sister attached to the Home. When I was introduced, she bowed, without the trace of a smile on her long, gaunt face. We stood aside from the doorway to let the coffin by.

Nous avons suivi les porteurs et nous sommes sortis de l'asile. Devant la porte, il y avait la voiture. Vernie, oblongue et brillante, elle faisait penser à un plumier. À côté d'elle, il y avait l'ordonnateur, petit homme aux habits ridicules, et un vieillard à l'allure empruntée. J'ai compris que c'était M. Pérez. Il avait un feutre mou à la calotte ronde et aux ailes larges (il l'a ôté quand la bière a passé la porte), un costume dont le pantalon tirebouchonnait sur les souliers et un nœud d'étoffe noire trop petit pour sa chemise à grand col blanc. Ses lèvres tremblaient au-dessous d'un nez truffé de points noirs. Ses cheveux blancs assez fins laissaient passer de curieuses oreilles ballantes et mal ourlées dont la couleur rouge sang dans ce visage blafard me frappa.

L'ordonnateur nous donna nos places. Le curé marchait en avant, puis la voiture. Autour d'elle, les quatre hommes. Derrière, le directeur, moi-même et, fermant la marche, l'infirmière déléguée et M. Pérez.

Then, following the bearers down a corridor, we came to the front entrance, where a hearse was waiting. Oblong, glossy, varnished black all over, it vaguely reminded me of the pen trays in the office. Beside the hearse stood a quaintly dressed little -man, whose duty it was, I understood, to supervise the funeral, as a sort of master of ceremonies. Near him, looking constrained, almost bashful, was old M. Pérez, my mother’s special friend. He wore a soft felt hat with a pudding-basin crown and a very wide brim—he whisked it off the moment the coffin emerged from the doorway—trousers that concertina’d on his shoes, a black tie much too small for his high white double collar. Under a bulbous, pimply nose, his lips were trembling. But what caught my attention most was his ears; pendulous, scarlet ears that showed up like blobs of sealing wax on the pallor of his cheeks and were framed in wisps of silky white hair.

The undertaker’s factotum shepherded us to our seats, with the priest in front of the hearse, and the four men in black on each side of it. The warden and I came next, and, bringing up the rear, old Pérez and the nurse.

Le ciel était déjà plein de soleil. Il commençait à peser sur la terre et la chaleur augmentait rapidement. Je ne sais pas pourquoi nous avons attendu assez longtemps avant de nous mettre en marche. J'avais chaud sous mes vêtements sombres. Le petit vieux, qui s'était recouvert, a de nouveau ôté son chapeau. Je m'étais un peu tourné de son côté, et je le regardais lorsque le directeur m'a parlé de lui. Il m'a dit que souvent ma mère et M. Pérez allaient se promener le soir jusqu'au village, accompagnés d'une infirmière.

Je regardais la campagne autour de moi. À travers les lignes de cyprès qui menaient aux collines près du ciel, cette terre rousse et verte, ces maisons rares et bien dessinées, je comprenais maman. Le soir, dans ce pays, devait être comme une trêve mélancolique. Aujourd'hui, le soleil débordant qui faisait tressaillir le paysage le rendait inhumain et déprimant.

The sky was already a blaze of light, and the air stoking up rapidly. I felt the first waves of heat lapping my back, and my dark suit made things worse. I couldn’t imagine why we waited so long for getting under way. Old Pérez, who had put on his hat, took it off again. I had turned slightly in his direction and was looking at him when the warden started telling me more about him. I remember his saying that old Pérez and my mother used often to have a longish stroll together in the cool of the evening; sometimes they went as far as the village, accompanied by a nurse, of course.

I looked at the countryside, at the long lines of cypresses sloping up toward the skyline and the hills, the hot red soil dappled with vivid green, and here and there a lonely house sharply outlined against the light—and I could understand Mother’s feelings. Evenings in these parts must be a sort of mournful solace. Now, in the full glare of the morning sun, with everything shimmering in the heat haze, there was something inhuman, discouraging, about this landscape.

Nous nous sommes mis en marche. C'est à ce moment que je me suis aperçu que Pérez claudiquait légèrement. La voiture, peu à peu, prenait de la vitesse et le vieillard perdait du terrain. L'un des hommes qui entouraient la voiture s'était laissé dépasser aussi et marchait maintenant à mon niveau. J'étais surpris de la rapidité avec laquelle le soleil montait dans le ciel. Je me suis aperçu qu'il y avait déjà longtemps que la campagne bourdonnait du chant des insectes et de crépitements d'herbe. La sueur coulait sur mes joues. Comme je n'avais pas de chapeau, je m'éventais avec mon mouchoir.

At last, we made a move. Only then I noticed that Pérez had a slight limp. The old chap steadily lost ground as the hearse gained speed. One of the men beside it, too, fell back and drew level with me. I was surprised to see how quickly the sun was climbing up the sky, and just then it struck me that for quite a while the air had been throbbing with the hum of insects and the rustle of grass warming up. Sweat was running down my face. As I had no hat I tried to fan myself with my handkerchief.

L'employé des pompes funèbres m'a dit alors quelque chose que je n'ai pas entendu. En même temps, il s'essuyait le crâne avec un mouchoir qu'il tenait dans sa main gauche, la main droite soulevant le bord de sa casquette. Je lui ai dit : « Comment ? »Il a répété en montrant le ciel : « Ça tape. » J'ai dit : « Oui. » Un peu après, il m'a demandée : « C'est votre mère qui est là ? » J'ai encore dit : « Oui. » « Elle était vieille ? » J'ai répondu : « Comme ça », parce que je ne savais pas le chiffre exact. Ensuite, il s'est tu. Je me suis retourné et j'ai vu le vieux Pérez à une cinquantaine de mètres derrière nous. Il se hâtait en balançant son feutre à bout de bras. J'ai regardé aussi le directeur. Il marchait avec beaucoup de dignité, sans un geste inutile. Quelques gouttes de sueur perlaient sur son front, mais il ne les essuyait pas.

The undertaker then said something to me that I did not hear. At the same time, he was wiping his head with a handkerchief in his left hand, his right hand lifting the brim of his cap. I said, "How?" He repeated, pointing to the sky, "It's banging." I said, "Yes." A little later he asked me, "Is that your mother there? I said again, "Yes. "Was she old? I answered, "Like that," because I didn't know the exact number. Then he fell silent. I turned around and saw old Pérez about fifty metres behind us. He was hurrying along, swinging his felt at arm's length. I also looked at the director. He was walking with great dignity, without a single useless gesture. A few drops of sweat were beading on his forehead, but he did not wipe them off.

Il me semblait que le convoi marchait un peu plus vite. Autour de moi, c'était toujours la même campagne lumineuse gorgée de soleil. L'éclat du ciel était insoutenable. À un moment donné, nous sommes passés sur une partie de la route qui avait été récemment refaite. Le soleil avait fait éclater le goudron. Les pieds y enfonçaient et laissaient ouverte sa pulpe brillante. Au-dessus de la voiture, le chapeau du cocher, en cuir bouilli, semblait avoir été pétri dans cette boue noire. J'étais un peu perdu entre le ciel bleu et blanc et la monotonie de ces couleurs, noir gluant du goudron ouvert, noir terne des habits, noir laque de la voiture. Tout cela, le soleil, l'odeur de cuir et de crottin de la voiture, celle du vernis et celle de l'encens, la fatigue d'une nuit d'insomnie, me troublait le regard et les idées.

It seemed to me that the convoy was moving a little faster. All around me was the same bright, sun-drenched countryside. The brightness of the sky was unbearable. At one point we passed a section of road that had recently been resurfaced. The sun had blasted the tarmac. The feet sank into it and left its shiny pulp open. On top of the car, the coachman's hat, made of boiled leather, looked as if it had been kneaded in the black mud. I was a little lost between the blue and white sky and the monotony of these colours, the slimy black of the open tar, the dull black of the clothes, the black lacquer of the car. All this, the sun, the smell of leather and dung from the car, that of varnish and that of incense, the tiredness of a sleepless night, confused my eyes and my thoughts.

Je me suis retourné une fois de plus : Pérez m'a paru très loin, perdu dans une nuée de chaleur, puis je ne l'ai plus aperçu. Je l'ai cherché du regard et j'ai vu qu'il avait quitté la route et pris à travers champs. J'ai constaté aussi que devant moi la route tournait. J'ai compris que Pérez qui connaissait le pays coupait au plus court pour nous rattraper. Au tournant il nous avait rejoints. Puis nous l'avons perdu. Il a repris encore à travers champs et comme cela plusieurs fois. Moi, je sentais le sang qui me battait aux tempes.

I turned around once more: Pérez seemed very far away, lost in a cloud of heat, and then I didn't see him anymore. I looked for him and saw that he had left the road and gone across the fields. I also noticed that the road ahead of me was turning. I realised that Pérez, who knew the country, was cutting it as short as possible to catch up with us. At the bend, he had joined us. Then we lost him. He started again across the fields and like that several times. I could feel the blood pounding in my temples.

Tout s'est passé ensuite avec tant de précipitation, de certitude et de naturel, que je ne me souviens plus de rien. Une chose seulement : à l'entrée du village, l'infirmière déléguée m'a parlé. Elle avait une voix singulière qui n'allait pas avec son visage, une voix mélodieuse et tremblante. Elle m'a dit : « Si on va doucement, on risque une insolation. Mais si on va trop vite, on est en transpiration et dans l'église on attrape un chaud et froid. » Elle avait raison. Il n'y avait pas d'issue.

Everything happened afterwards with such haste, certainty and naturalness that I don't remember anything. Only one thing: at the entrance to the village, the nurse delegate spoke to me. She had a singular voice that did not match her face, a melodious and trembling voice. She said to me: "If we go slowly, we risk sunstroke. But if you go too fast, you get sweaty and in the church, you catch a hot and cold." She was right. There was no way out.

J'ai encore gardé quelques images de cette journée : par exemple, le visage de Pérez quand, pour la dernière fois, il nous a rejoints près du village. De grosses larmes d'énervement et de peine ruisselaient sur ses joues. Mais, à cause des rides, elles ne s'écoulaient pas. Elles s'étalaient, se rejoignaient et formaient un vernis d'eau sur ce visage détruit.

I still have some images of that day: for example, Pérez's face when, for the last time, he joined us near the village. Big tears of anger and sorrow were streaming down his cheeks. But, because of the wrinkles, they did not flow away. They spread out, joined together and formed a watery varnish on that destroyed face.

Il y a eu encore l'église et les villageois sur les trottoirs, les géraniums rouges sur les tombes du cimetière, l'évanouissement de Pérez (on eût dit un pantin disloqué), la terre couleur de sang qui roulait sur la bière de maman, la chair blanche des racines qui s'y mêlaient, encore du monde, des voix, le village, l'attente devant un café, l'incessant ronflement du moteur, et ma joie quand l'autobus est entré dans le nid de lumières d'Alger et que j'ai pensé que j'allais me coucher et dormir pendant douze heures.

There was still the church and the villagers on the pavements, the red geraniums on the graves in the cemetery, the fainting of Pérez (he looked like a dislocated puppet), the blood-coloured earth that rolled over Mama's bier, the white flesh of the roots that mingled there, more people, voices, the village, waiting in front of a café, the incessant hum of the engine, and my joy when the bus entered the nest of lights of Algiers and I thought I was going to lie down and sleep for twelve hours.

[xenosagaepisodeone]

I don't see why they just don't bring Jigsaw back Jason X (2001) style. you could have the Saw Victim Du Jour locked in combat with Secret Jigsaw Protege #10, and when you think they're about to win, Secret Jigsaw Protege #10 could go "heh...at your funeral...all they'll talk about is how you never Saw it coming..." and presses a button....a door opens, and out oozes Tobin Bell suspended in this obelisk of flesh and steel Tetsuo the Iron Man style (it wouldn't be Sawcore if he looked like a cyborg imo). the protagonist is dumbfounded until Jigsaw launches an appendage of fleshy steelness at him that quickly constructs a trap made out of Jigsaw's organic material. the audience would be encouraged to think of Jigsaw's resurrection as normal, and it would be framed as just another part of the marvel of modern engineering that consists the average saw trap. no other part of the film would be science fiction. Jigsaw wouldn't engage in actual pvp combat for another 2 movies, and he would have 3 boss forms (final one resembles the room from the first film). refilled my vyvanse prescription btw.

[icymusicdiary]

current driving playlist

…And You Will Know Us By The Trail of Dead --- "Heart in the Hand of the Matter"; "Days of Being Wild"; "Relative Ways"

Afrorack --- "Rev" and "Desert"

Aho Ssan --- "Tetsuo II"

Alberich --- "Chilsong Chamber"

Alice Glass --- "Remains"

Andy Stott --- Luxury Problems

Annabelle Playe --- Geyser

Ansome --- Selections from Hounds of the Harbor

Arvo Part --- Tabula Rasa mvmt 1, Magnificat for Choir, Annum per Annum for Organ

Austra --- Selections from Feel It Break

Autechre --- Selections from Exai

Author & Punisher --- Selections from Krüller

Bach --- Selections from the Sonatas and Partitas for Solo Violin; Selections from the Well-Tempered Clavier

Beethoven --- Kreutzer Sonata mvmt 1; Symphony 9; Grosse Fuge; Selections from String Quartets opp 127, 130, and 131

Blanck Mass --- "Hush Money"

Bolis Pupul --- "Frogs" and "Ma Tau Wai Road"

Candy Claws --- Selections from Ceres and Calypso in the Deep Time

Carter Tutti Void --- Triumvirate

Chastity --- "Sun Poisoning" and "Strife"

Cherry Glazerr --- I Don't Want You Anymore

CHVRCHES --- "Lies"; "Recover"; "Clearest Blue"

Clark --- "Slap Drones"

Closet Witch --- "Personal Machu Picchu"; "Daylilies"; "Dogs Running"

Cloud Rat --- Do Not Let Me Off the Cliff: Deluxe Edition and "Luminescent Cellar"

Coheed and Cambria --- "A Favor House Atlantic"; "The Afterman"; "Welcome Home"; "Key Entity Extration III: Vic the Butcher"; "The Suffering"

Connesson --- Selections from Pour Sortir au Jour

Cremation Lily --- "I Need to Stop Blaming Myself"

Debby Friday --- Good Luck

Debussy --- Prélude à l'après-midi d'un faune

Diana Damrau --- "Der Hölle Rache"

Divide and Dissolve --- "We Are Really Worried About You"

Dobrinka Tabakova --- String Paths

Dolor --- "Pull Me In"

Eduardo Egüez --- Misa Criolla mvmt 2 and 3

Elbow --- "Grounds for Divorce"

Elusin --- Selections from Synfuels

Emma Ruth Rundle & Thou --- "Magickal Cost"; "Out of Existence"; "Orphan Limbs"

Ensemble La Chimera --- "Tonada El Diamante"; "En Aquel Amor"

Fever Ray --- "Kandy"; "Looking for a Ghost"; "Tapping Fingers"; "If I Had A Heart"; "Keep the Streets Empty for Me"

Giles Corey --- "No One Is Ever Going To Want Me"

glass beach --- Selections from plastic death

Gris --- Il était une forêt

HEALTH --- Selections from RAT WARS; "SLAVES OF FEAR"

Holy Fawn --- "Yawning"

IAMX --- "Insomnia"; "Surrender"; "Spit It Out"

Ictus --- Imperivm; Hambrientos De Un Sol Distinto; "Sed de Venganza"

Jai Paul --- "BTSTU (Edit)"; "Jasmine"

Joanna Newsom --- "The Things I Say"

Keygen Church --- Nel Nome Del Codice; "S E V E R K E T O R"

Kite --- "Hills"

KLANGPHONICS --- "Shapes in the Spray"

Lauren Bousfield --- "Another World is Possible - Presented by US Bank"

Lingua Ignota --- Selections from Sinner Get Ready; "Spite Alone Holds Me Aloft"; "All Bitches Die (Bitches All Die Here)"; "May Failure Be Your Noose"

Lone Pilgrim --- The World Is Not My Home

Lorn --- "Chhurch"

Lorn & Dolor --- Zero Bounce

Low --- "More"

LSDXOXO --- "Sick Bitch"

M. Lamar --- Negrogothic and Funeral Doom Spiritual

M.I.A. --- Selections from Kala

Mandy, Indiana --- Selections from i've seen a way

Marina & the Diamonds --- "Numb"

Menace Ruine --- The Die is Cast; Selections from Nekyia, Venus Armata, and Alight in Ashes

mewithoutYou --- Selections from Brother, Sister; "[dormouse sights]"; "Birnam Wood"; "Julia"

Millie & Andrea --- Drop the Vowels

Mitski --- "I Don't Smoke"; "Love Me More"; "Love Me More (Clark Remix)"; "Townie"; "My Body's Made of Crushed Little Stars"

Model/Actriz --- Dogsbody; "Damocles"; "Suntan"; "Amaranth (mmph remix)"

Oneohtrix Point Never --- "No Good"; "Sticky Drama"

Paula Temple --- Edge of Everything and Deathvox EP

Perfume Genius --- "Describe (A. G. Cook Remix)"

Pictureplane --- "Blade Addict (Crimson Mist)"

Powell --- "So We Went Electric"

Queens of the Stone Age --- "My God Is the Sun"; "If I Had a Tail"

R.E.M. --- Selections from Automatic for the People and Murmur

Rameau --- Selections from Hippolyte et Aricie

Renée Fleming --- "Ich ging zu ihm"

Respighi --- Concerto Gregoriano mvmt 3; "Gagliarda" and "Siciliana" from Ancient Airs and Dances; Violin Sonata in B Minor mvmt 2

Reverend Kristin Michael Hayter --- Selections from SAVED!

Rezz --- Selections from CAN YOU SEE ME?; "Let Me In"

Rossini --- Selections from Il Barbiere Di Siviglia

Run The Jewels --- Selections from Run the Jewels 2 and RTJ 4

Sällskapet --- "Die Zeit Vergeht"

Sarasate --- "Navarra"

Schnittke --- Concerto for Choir; "Credo" from the Requiem; Concerto Grosso 2 mvmt 1

Schubert --- Death and the Maiden Movements 1, 2 and 4; Symphony 8 Movement 1

Scriabin --- Piano Sonatas 5, 6, 7, and 9

seventh stitch --- Selections from murmuring chasms of nostalgia

Sharon Van Etten --- "Hands"

Sia --- "Chandelier"

Simon & Garfunkel --- "My Little Town"

Slowdive --- "Shanty"; "Prayer Remembered"; "The Slab"

Sprain --- Selections from The Lamb as Effigy

Stravinsky --- Selections from The Rake's Progress and Petrushka

The Comet is Coming --- "Angel of Darkness"; "The Hammer"

The Hormones --- "孤独的海"; "航夜"

The Killers --- "Sam's Town"; "Spaceman"

The Knife --- "Silent Shout"; "Marble House"; "Like a Pen"; "Full of Fire"

The Visit --- Through Darkness Into Light

This Thing Called Dying --- "Menneske"; "The Art of Looking the Other Way"

Thou --- Umbilical; Selections from Inconsolable

Torres --- Selections from What an enormous room and Silver Tongue

TR/ST --- "Shoom"

Tzafu --- Selections from Impermanence

Tzusing --- Selections from 東方不敗, A Name Out of Place Collected, and 绿帽 Green Hat

Vampire Weekend --- "Unbelievers"; "Hudson"; "Gen X Cops"; "Capricorn"

Wolf Parade --- Selections from At Mount Zoomer and Apologies to the Queen Mary

Wolves in the Throne Room --- "Initiation at Neudeg Alm"

Yellow Swans --- Left Behind; Out of Practice I; Out of Practice II

Young Galaxy --- "Hard To Tell"; "In Fire"

Ysaye --- Sonata 1 for solo violin mvmt 2, 3, and 4; Sonatas 2, 4, 5, and 6 for solo violin

[page-2-ids]

Somnockia: A gender related to the passage of time, dreamy colors, foggy weather, decades worth of leather-bound journals filled with cursive writing, massive dark academia-ish libraries, aging, feeling your life slipping through your fingers, knowledge that only comes from living, funerals, graves, crumbling headstones, and melancholy. It could also be related to the Aerosmith song Dream On and the Guns N’ Roses cover of Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door. Some also may experience this gender through a Saudania lense/as a Saudania gender, though that won’t apply to all users.

Some lyrics that describe the theme of this gender, and that it may be related to though it doesn’t have to be, are:

“The past is gone || It went by like dusk to dawn”

“I know nobody knows || Where it comes and where it goes”

“Half my life’s in book’s written pages || Lived and learned from fools and from sages”

“Maybe tomorrow the good lord will take you away”

“Mama, take this badge from me || I can’t use it anymore || It’s gettin’ dark, too dark to see”

“That cold black cloud is comin’ down”

“Feels like I’m knockin’ on heaven’s door”

The name comes from a mix of Som(n) from somnium or somnus (the latin words for dream and sleep respectively), (n)ock from Knockin’, and ia from Dreamiagender or Saudania

The colors are inspired by my associations with the vibe of this term

This was for the third day of my coining event! Prompt: Dream On (Aerosmith) // Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door (any version)

Suggested Names and Pronouns 🔽🔽🔽

Pronouns: (just a heads up, my dark academia pronouns aren’t part of this suggestion - as much as I like those, this doesn’t feel like it has enough of a focus on it to justify that)

A/Aven/Aver/Avers/Avenself

Cur/Cursive/Cursive/Cursives/Cursiveself

Curs/Cursive/Cursive/Cursives/Cursiveself

Curse/Cursive/Cursive/Cursives/Cursiveself

Cursi/Cursive/Cursive/Cursives/Cursiveself

Cursiv/Cursive/Cursive/Cursives/Cursiveself

Cursiv/Cursive/Cursives/Cursives/Cursiveself

Cursive/Cursive/Cursive/Cursives/Cursiveself

Cursive/Cursive/Cursives/Cursives/Cursiveself

Daw/Dawn/Dawns/Dawns/Dawnself

Dawn/Dawn/Dawns/Dawns/Dawnself

De/Decade/Decades/Decades/Decadeself

Dec/Decade/Decades/Decades/Decadeself

Deca/Decade/Decades/Decades/Decadeself

Decade/Decade/Decades/Decades/Decadeself

Dre/Dream/Dreams/Dreams/Dreamself

Dre/Dreamer/Dreamer/Dreamers/Dreamerself

Drea/Dream/Dreams/Dreams/Dreamself

Drea/Dreamer/Dreamer/Dreamers/Dreamerself

Dream/Dream/Dreams/Dreams/Dreamself

Dream/Dreamer/Dreamer/Dreamers/Dreamerself

Dreame/Dreamer/Dreamer/Dreamers/Dreamerself

Dreamer/Dreamer/Dreamer/Dreamers/Dreamerself

Dreamer/Dreamer/Dreamers/Dreamers/Dreamerself

Dreamy/Dreamer/Dreamer/Dreamers/Dreamerself

Dus/Dusk/Dusks/Dusks/Duskself

Dusk/Dusk/Dusks/Dusks/Duskself

Fog/Fog/Fogs/Fogs/Fogself

Gra/Grave/Graves/Graves/Graveself

Grave/Grave/Graves/Graves/Graveself

Gray/Grave/Graves/Graves/Graveself

Grey/Grave/Graves/Graves/Graveself

He/Heaven/Heavens/Heavens/Heavenself

Hea/Heaven/Heavens/Heavens/Heavenself

Heav/Heaven/Heavens/Heavens/Heavenself

Heave/Heaven/Heavens/Heavens/Heavenself

Heaven/Heaven/Heavens/Heavens/Heavenself

Jo/Journal/Jour/Jours/Journalself

Jo/Journal/Journals/Journals/Journalself

Jour/Journal/Jour/Jours/Journalself

Jour/Journal/Journals/Journals/Journalself

Jorna/Journal/Jour/Jours/Journalself

Jorna/Journal/Journals/Journals/Journalself

Jornal/Journal/Jour/Jours/Journalself

Jornal/Journal/Journals/Journals/Journalself

Le/Leather/Leather/Leathers/Leatherself

Lea/Leather/Leather/Leathers/Leatherself

Leath/Leather/Leather/Leathers/Leatherself

Leathe/Leather/Leather/Leathers/Leatherself

Leather/Leather/Leather/Leathers/Leatherself

Leather/Leather/Leathers/Leathers/Leatherself

Pas/Past/Past/Pasts/Pastself

Past/Past/Past/Pasts/Pastself

Past/Past/Pasts/Pasts/Pastself

Xae/Xaem/Xaem/Xaems/Xaemself

Xae/Xaem/Xaems/Xaems/Xaemself

Xae/Xaem/Xaer/Xaers/Xaemself

Names:

Angel

Choly

Cholia

Daunia

Dawn

Don

Dream

Dreamer

Dusk

Fog

Foggy

Mela

Meli

Mella

Melli

Mort

Mortis

Mortus

Mortuus

Nevaeh

Nia

Noctis

Nocturn

Noctus

Nox

Sage

Saudan

Som

Somn

Somni

Somnium

Tru

True