#not to take credit away from mozart

[widevibratobitch]

on the train rn omw to therapy and listening to allegri's miserere because i am normal and sane and do not need therapy at all actually

[blossom-hwa]

melody of the heart [2] | k.th

pairing: Taehyun x fem!reader genre:  fluff, a pinch of angst, regency era!au, nobility!au warnings: period typical misogyny word count: 14.4k notes:  — this is for all the bridgerton girlies who have been going insane just like me <3 highly inspired by francesca/john's burgeoning romance from the first half, so hope you all enjoy! — some of the dialogue has been lifted from the show—I do not claim any credit for it. — this takes place in the same universe as my duke!yeonjun story, if you'll have me :) feel free to check that out as well! When your father calls you home from the continent to join the London season, for the first time in your life, you nearly throw a fit. You are not just the daughter of a viscount—you’ve made a name for yourself in England and abroad with your prodigious talent at the piano, having since childhood performed for royal courts far and wide. You have traveled far and beyond most other ladies of your rank, and to have your career halted all for the sake of marriage to a man who will likely force you to quit your craft is unthinkable. But all your life you have lived without raising a hand to your father, and so when the letter comes, you return home for the season, hoping and praying to make it through without stirring the waters.  Enter Taehyun Kang, Earl of Addiston—recently titled, in search of a wife, and as tired of the season already as you are. During a chance meeting at the season’s third ball you grow to know each other, and as time passes you grow to like each other, a mutual respect forming when you learn the depths of one another’s passions in the arts. In Taehyun you find a respite from the men who would clip your wings for the sake of finding a perfect wife. In you Taehyun finds a kindred spirit who would respect him for himself, and not the lands in his name. Together you navigate the grueling social activities of the London matchmaking project as acquaintances, then as friends, and maybe, just maybe— As lovers, too.  Part 1 >> Part 2

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When morning comes and you open your eyes, everything looks so normal that you decide last night wasn’t real. The sun is shining through the windows. The sky outside is blue. The queen did not happen upon you playing the piano last night, and she did not name you her diamond. 

Upon entering the drawing room, however, you begin to realize that the nightmare is in fact reality. 

Your aunt presides over a small army of servants arranging enormous bouquets of flowers, blooms of every color arraying the room. Your cousins hover over several piles of boxes, each tied with bright ribbon. Your father stands in the middle of it all, looking strangely pleased, and when he turns to you, one of his rare smiles is set against his face. 

You swallow. “What is going on?”

“You have done well for our family, my daughter,” he says, coming closer. For all the warmth in his voice you still almost shrink away—you’re not used to his kindness, and from the stilted edge to his words, he isn’t either. “The queen named you her diamond, and these are the gifts bestowed upon you for it.”

Against your will, last night comes rushing back. The Harlowe’s ball. All the noise, all the chatter. Lady Park striking up a conversation with you just when your head had started to hurt, and winking when she mentioned the Harlowe’s music room. Dark corridors and blessed silence and Mozart sonatas dancing beneath your fingers—

Then the queen herself appearing in the room, and with a smile on her face that only struck dread in your chest, naming you her diamond. 

She had accompanied you out of the room with her entourage following, Lady Park at her side. You couldn’t think of an excuse to get away. And so, when you entered the ballroom once more, you had no defense when the queen looked at you with a broad smile, and kissed your forehead in full view of everyone there. 

The diamond, you could practically hear everyone whisper. She’s been named the diamond. 

Head spinning, you swallow. “The queen does not give gifts to her diamonds,” you say dumbly. 

“These are not from the queen, silly girl,” your aunt says. “These are from your suitors, who hope to court your hand.” She smiles, oblivious to the dread pooling through your chest. “Come, my girl. See what gifts they have brought you.”

You let yourself be dragged to the center of the room where most of the gifts lie. Your cousins are definitely more eager to see them than you, so you let them open the boxes of jewelry and wow over the flowers, nodding and smiling perfunctorily as needed. You don’t really notice much of it, though, because you’re still trying to believe this isn’t happening. 

It is, though. And even though calling hour isn’t for a while yet, you have a sinking feeling that it’s going to be more crowded than it ever has been. If last night was anything to go by…

After the queen had kissed your forehead in full view of the room, there was a sort of pause. The orchestra kept playing, but even those on the dance floor stopped moving for a moment. Hundreds of eyes were fixed on you and you couldn’t even move, you were so frozen in place. Even when the room started shifting again, you couldn’t seem to unstick your feet from the floor until an outstretched hand had made its way into your line of vision, and you had to finally look up to see who it was. 

It was Lord Kang. And the relief you felt was—overwhelming. So overwhelming you almost started crying. In that moment, however cliché it sounds, you thought you could understand those scenes in fairy tales when the princess was saved by her prince, and while you may resent yourself for the fact that you needed saving, you’re endlessly thankful that he was there for it. 

“My lady,” he’d said like nothing just happened, kissing your hand. “I haven’t seen you all night. Congratulations on your new title.”

“Thank you, my lord.” If he noticed your voice shaking a little, he said nothing of it. “I apologize. I hid myself away for a while, for…some quiet.”

His eyes crinkled into one of his gentle smiles. “I heard,” he’d said, skillfully guiding you around the room. “The Mozart was wonderful. I would have said something earlier, but I didn’t want to interrupt you and then the queen arrived. I did not think either of us would want to be compromised, or stir rumors.”

“I should think not,” you had said, smiling a little. “I appreciate it.”

“Is your next dance taken?” he had asked, an abrupt change of subject. The music was dying away, the couples on the dance floor saying their goodbyes. You shook your head, and his eyes sparkled. “If not, would you mind if I stole it, then?”

This time, a real smile—your last of the evening—spread over your lips. “I wouldn’t mind at all.”

Lord Kang was a very good dancer—light on his feet with a good sense of rhythm, and a strong frame that guided you into each next step without you having to improperly initiate it yourself. A lovely respite from several of your earlier partners who seemed to have two left feet. In Lord Kang’s arms, you almost forgot the events of just some minutes ago, losing yourself in the easiness of his footsteps and conversation. Beyond his initial congratulations, he didn’t mention the queen’s designation once. Until the end of time you’ll be grateful for it.

But then the music ended, and reality came rushing back. 

Almost immediately after you’d made your curtsies and Lord Kang had taken his bow, you noticed several figures walking up to you. By the time you fully turned around, a small group had crowded in front of the dance floor, right where you would have stepped off. Men, all of them—all looking at you with varying degrees of interest, interest they never would have had if the queen had not made her declaration. 

For the second time that night, you froze. People were talking but you couldn’t hear what they were saying, the noise of the room a roaring buzz in your ears. Half of you had a mind to run out the nearest exit but your legs just wouldn’t move. 

You don’t know how long you stood there before Lord Kang’s voice finally cut through the din. “It seems your newfound title has caused some stir, my lady,” he had said quietly. You looked at him and he looked at you and there was a little smile on his face that helped ease your heart rate just slightly. Then his expression turned serious. “You need not do anything you do not like,” he said lowly. “If you would prefer, I can help you make some excuse.”

You would have taken him up on it. You’re not sure what he had in mind—fake a dizzy spell or headache, or just a need for some fresh air—but you would have done it. But then your aunt appeared in all her ill-timed glory and started filling the rest of your dance card with terrible efficiency, and all you could do was give Taehyun a small, sad little smile and whisper a thanks before some new gentleman ushered you onto the dance floor. 

Last night turned your mind into mush. Too many people, too many questions, too much dancing for your introverted self to handle. Gazing at the flowers and presents littered about the room now, you have the sinking feeling that calling hour is about to be even worse. 

Which it is. There are apparently men queueing in a line down the hall, waiting for a chance to speak with you. More flowers fill the drawing room, and your smile becomes increasingly fixed to your face with each new gentleman who enters the room. Most of them are pleasant enough and able to keep the conversation going even as your head begins to hurt more and more, but some of them are truly unpleasant people, and even your aunt’s face looks more pinched than usual when she ushers Mr. Yang-Tran out of the room. 

You don’t even get a respite at dinner. It’s all anyone can seem to talk about, and even your taciturn father puts forth several opinions on those who managed to call today. Those who didn’t make it during the designated hour left a plethora of flowers and gifts, and there’s a small mountain of calling cards sitting on one of the drawing room tables that you can’t really bring yourself to look through. Only one of them matters, anyway, and you stole that one away.

When the meal is over, you all return to the drawing room to continue the dinner chatter. They all seem to be so full of laughter and cheer that it makes you feel somewhat alien for not feeling the same, but it gives you more opportunity to sink into the corner of a couch fade into the background. With everyone’s attention diverted, you pull out Lord Kang’s card. It’s lovely, very elegant, but you don’t really care about how it looks. You flip the card around to see the words written on the back. 

My lady—

I hope you will not find it too forward of me to write, but I wanted to express my congratulations again on your well-earned title last night. I hope you will find some pleasure in it for I can think of no one more deserving of it this season than you. I apologize that I could not see you before calling hour ended, but I pray I will have better luck next time. 

You certainly hope so too. 

Swallowing hard, you look at the table, where an array of the most pleasing flowers and gifts have been laid out. Jewelry glitters in the candlelight, making the flowers almost seem to glow. But you only have eyes for the few books that lie beside them, their nondescript leather covers dark in the night. 

No one really notices when you stand. They don’t notice you picking up the books, then heading out of the room. No one follows you into the music room, where you shut the door firmly after lighting several candles to give the space a little light. 

For several hours you alternate between practicing and reading. The crease of paper beneath your fingers comforts you as you immerse yourself in sheet music and music history, and when a servant eventually comes to call you to bed, you feel well enough to go without complaint. 

On your nightstand rests a small bouquet of fresh flowers. Lord Kang left them with his card, and when you learned this you asked a servant to bring them to your room. You place the calling card next to the vase before blowing out the candle, crawling into bed, and falling into a dreamless sleep. 

. . . . .

The title of diamond is a coveted one, Taehyun knows, and it is an honor to receive it from the queen. So many debutantes each season have been vying for the designation and he can hardly fault them for it, not when it brings so much prestige. 

You are not undeserving of the name. Far from it. With your fame, quiet grace, and incomparable talent at the piano, Taehyun wonders why the queen didn’t choose you earlier. All of this talk about Her Majesty being bored, surrounded by ladies tripping over themselves to impress her in ways she’s already seen before, doesn’t quite make sense to him. Your honesty and genuine nature were obvious to him from the start. How could it not be to the queen?

Yet, for all Taehyun knows it is an honor, he still somewhat wishes the queen had given the title to someone else. 

For—well, selfish reasons. Taehyun privately resents the fact that all the men of the ton are now queueing at your door to shower you in empty compliments and vague flowers. He treasured the time the you spent together, the precious minutes he spent in your drawing room speaking with you or listening to you play the piano, and now all that time has been snatched away by the callers crowding your doorstep. Even at balls, between your aunt and the queen herself, he can only manage to catch you for moments at a time. A single dance. A snippet of conversation. Then your aunt has moved you on to someone else, or the queen would like to introduce you to another titled gentleman, and he has to bid you good night before they haplessly rush you off. 

Again, all very selfish reasons. Taehyun feels guilty every time he even thinks them. But in his defense—and Taehyun doesn’t like to presume—you don’t seem to be enjoying yourself nearly as much as someone named the incomparable of the season should. You haven’t said it to him directly, but Taehyun feels that you also would have preferred someone else to be the season’s incomparable instead of you. 

It doesn’t matter, though, because one does not refute the queen. She leads society and the season, and in this court of gossip and schemes, she reigns supreme. Which is the only reason why Taehyun hasn’t pretended not to notice her more than could be presumed polite, each time she comes around with a new marquess to introduce to you. He is not wealthy or important enough to save himself from her possible wrath. 

(The queen may be a kind woman, but the entire ton knows that she is a force to be reckoned with.)

With all this, the thought occurs to him to just propose sooner rather than later. It is becoming increasingly obvious that no other woman has and will capture his attentions quite the way you have, and you’re the only one to whom Taehyun would feel comfortable giving a betrothal ring. He doesn’t think you would say no. But at the same time, you’re a shy creature, and even he would prefer a little more time to court you. Couples have gotten married in far less time than the two of you have known each other, of course, but you deserve a proper courtship. And he would like for you to know one another better before he decides on a ring. 

All of which would be much more easily done if he could speak to you for more than a few short minutes at a time. 

And, perhaps, lady luck has decided to shine on him the night of the queen’s ball, only the most important event of the season. Taehyun counts himself lucky to have received an invitation, but more importantly, as the season’s diamond, he knows that you must be there too. He hops out of his carriage in front of the palace just in time to see you stepping out of yours a short distance away, moonlight glittering on your figure. 

For a moment, Taehyun forgets how to breathe. 

You look…beautiful. Not that you hadn’t been beautiful before, of course—you’ve been lovely since the moment Taehyun saw you that first night at the Tillings’ ball. But as Taehyun watches you settle on the ground, starlight sparkling over your dress, your headpiece, the elegant jewels around your neck and hands, he can see the delicate care you and your lady’s maids have certainly put into your appearance for tonight. 

And it was well worth it. 

Before he can stop himself, he’s walking in your direction. You don’t notice him immediately but when you meet his eyes, a smile seems to brighten your eyes as he bows. “My lady,” he greets, kissing your hand. “You look especially beautiful tonight.”

You duck your head shyly, but when you finally tip up your chin again, the smile has only grown. “Thank you, Lord Kang. I suppose the hours spent on my appearance were worth the time.”

“They certainly were.” He extends his arm. “May I walk you into the ballroom? I should appreciate this opportunity, having arrived so soon after one another, to speak with you. It seems we are always being interrupted, or that there simply isn’t enough time.”

“I would love that,” you reply sincerely. Inwardly, Taehyun preens a little when you don’t even look at your aunt before taking his arm. 

“I must apologize for all the interruptions,” you say as the two of you begin walking up to the palace. Your smile seems to drop a bit. “I…do not believe I was properly prepared to understand all that goes into being a diamond. I do not mean that I am not honored by the queen’s attentions,” you add quickly. “But I suppose I had not expected that so many would now ask for a piece of my time.”

“Your time was valuable even before you were made the diamond,” Taehyun replies. “I’m only honored that you shared it with me. But do know that you are deserving of this title.” He smiles, a little teasingly. “Though I must admit, it is nice to be able to see you now without the other gentlemen vying for your affections as well.”

You pause for a moment, as though picking your next words carefully. “If you must know, my lord,” you finally say, “they never posed much competition to you.”

Taehyun looks at you quickly. You look back at him, holding his gaze for a moment before you turn away, shoulders lifting shyly as though to shield you from…something. Anything. 

He lifts a hand to your chin and turns you gently his way again. “Thank you, my lady,” he says softly when you meet his eyes again. “Your words do me the greatest honor.”

“I only speak the truth,” you reply steadily, though Taehyun hears the tremor carefully hidden behind your words. It only endears you to him more. 

The two of you enter the ballroom together. Lights burst in Taehyun’s vision, crystal and glass glittering everywhere. Next to him, your breath seems to catch, and he feels much the same as he steps into the large, sparkling room. The fanciest place he’s ever been was the duke and duchess’s own ballroom. It was lovely, but this is something else altogether. 

Immediately upon your entrance, Taehyun already sees heads turning your way. Jealousy flares in his chest, but pride stamps it out—he’s the one who walked you into the room, after all, and you’re the one who said no one else was much competition compared to him. 

That doesn’t mean he’s going to let down his guard, though. 

He turns to you and your glittering ensemble, candlelight almost glowing around your figure. “Before we are surely interrupted again,” he says, smiling wryly, “may I have your first dance, my lady?”

You place your hand in his with a grin. “Of course, my lord.”

Taehyun loves dancing with you. You’re easily one of the best dancers in the ton, not even just among the season’s debutantes. For obvious reasons, you have a wonderful sense of rhythm and melody, and you clearly lean into that sort of sixth sense as you play with the timing of the choreographed steps and the unique twists of the music. You twirl under his hand, returning to his arms with a bright smile, and Taehyun is suddenly reminded of a flower opening its petals under the sun. 

Too soon, the music ends, and with it ends the magic of the dance you shared. Glancing at those who have gathered at the edge of the ballroom, Taehyun feels the jealousy flare again. How free he would feel if he could dance with you all night without worry of what the ton would think! But Taehyun has had the rules of society drummed into his head since he was old enough to comprehend language, and he knows he cannot share more than one dance with you in a row without stirring rumors of impropriety. So when you curtsy, he only bows, kissing your hand once more. 

“You are a wonderful dancer, my lady,” he compliments. The orchestra is in a lull now, waiting for dancers to find new partners, and everything he says will be clear to those who stand around him, so he chooses his next words carefully. Dancing with the same person twice means announcing a serious intention to court them to the entire ton, carrying more weight than even repeated weekly calls, but… “If you would be so inclined, I would be deeply honored if I could take one of your dances later this evening, as well.”

Your mouth parts. A strange, but not unwelcome expression passes over your face. He’d given his request quietly in case you refused, but a smile grows on your lips as you nod once, slowly, then again with more conviction. “I should like that very much,” you say, extending your dance card to him. 

Taehyun smiles broadly as he takes the small card. “Would it be all right if we danced the quadrille?” he asks. 

Your eyes sparkle. “Did someone tell you that was my favorite dance?”

He shakes his head in surprise. “A lucky guess.”

“Truly.” You smile, though it drops a little when you glance behind him at the crowd that has surely only grown larger since the last dance ended. “I will wait patiently for our quadrille, then, my lord.”

Taehyun gives you what he hopes is a comforting smile. “I will be counting the dances until then.”

. . . 

Unfortunately, Taehyun somewhat loses track of the dances somewhere along the way, mostly because he is also dealing with a consistently large group of people who insist on corralling him every time he so much as steps away from the dance floor. 

By a group of people, he really just means a group of debutantes and their mothers. They just…follow him. It’s a bit creepy. And when one disappears, another appears to take her place, so the group just never seems to fade away. Yeonjun was here earlier to help divert some of the attention but at some point he left to spend some time with his wife, which Taehyun can hardly fault him for. 

Taehyun is at his wit’s end by the time he finds himself near the table of drinks. He adopts a very concentrated look on his face—far more than is necessary when examining an array of lemonade and alcohol—but it seems to discourage some of the shyer girls, who start to hang back a little. 

He feels a little bad. It’s not like this is their fault, and if he wasn’t so damn tired, he wouldn’t mind engaging them in conversation either. But Taehyun has been dancing half the night and talking for the other half, and about topics he genuinely does not care about, so he takes his time selecting a whiskey before turning around, internally bracing himself for the onslaught. 

The onslaught comes in the form of a Mrs. Lim, here to present her first daughter, and a Mrs. Jung, with her second daughter. Taehyun smiles as best he can through brittle teeth and tries not to be too curt with his replies, but then other women start showing up to introduce and re-introduce their daughters and even when Taehyun says that he has already promised most of his dances away, they still won’t leave. He’s at his wits’ end, the glass in his hand now empty, when the group before him parts for a familiar face that fills him with relief. 

“Excuse me,” you murmur, edging politely past Mrs. Jung to stand in front of him. Instantly Taehyun feels himself begin to relax—he hadn’t realized he was so tense until you showed up. “My lord, the quadrille is next.” You look at him steadily even as the group breaks into whispers—Did he not take her first dance? Will they dance twice? What does this mean?“I believe I promised this dance to you, if you would still like to take it.”

Taehyun nearly sags with relief. “I should like nothing more,” he says, extending a hand. “Apologies, ladies, I must go.” He bows slightly, then heads off to the dance floor without a second glance back. 

“I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything important,” you say lowly, turning to face him. 

“Not at all,” Taehyun replies, leading you into frame. “In fact, your interruption was…most welcome.”

A wry twinkle appears in your eye. “It seemed so, though I didn’t want to presume.”

Taehyun laughs. “I thank you, then, for your opportune timing.”

“There is no need for thanks.” You smile. “You saved me at the Bridgertons’ ball after the queen crowned me her diamond.” Your smile grows smaller, though no less sincere. “I didn’t have the chance to thank you for that.”

The orchestra picks up, signaling the end of the dance’s introduction, but Taehyun only looks at you carefully. “Forgive me for assuming,” he says quietly, “but my lady, you don’t seem to want the title much at all.”

You bite your lip even as you begin to move, instinctively stepping to the music. “It is an honor,” you reply lowly. “I will never be ungrateful for the queen’s approval. But I must confess…I wish she had chosen someone else instead.” You try to smile, but even Taehyun can see that it’s forced. “I am a quiet person, my lord. I never really wanted the attention that would come with being the season’s diamond. I believe others are far more suited to the role than I.”

Sympathy wells in Taehyun’s heart. No matter how tense he felt around the mamas and their daughters, he can’t imagine how this has all been for you. Granted, you have your aunt to field some of the gentlemen who come to you, but she seems more preoccupied with attracting more of them than shielding you from the onslaught. “I’m sorry,” he says simply, because he doesn’t know quite what else to say other than I understand, which would probably seem disingenuous. 

You seem to hear the words left unsaid, though, because you give him a little smile when you find your way back into his arms. “It is what it is,” you state bravely. “And, at the very least, I can look forward to dancing with you.”

Taehyun’s heart stutters a beat, though you don’t seem to notice it. “Believe me, Miss L/N, I look forward to it at least as much as you,” he says when he finds his voice again. 

In the last measures of the quadrille, you smile at each other softly. You curtsy, and Taehyun bows, and in a last stroke of desperation to keep you with him a little longer, he extends his arm again. “Would you like some refreshment?” he offers. “You have been dancing all night. Surely you must be parched.”

You open your mouth, about to respond. But then your eye catches on something behind him and your face grows still, a smile curving your lips that doesn’t reach your eyes. Taehyun turns to see the queen approaching the two of you, an elegantly dressed gentleman following closely behind her. 

“Your Majesty,” the two of you murmur at the same time. The queen gives Taehyun a perfunctory little smile before directing her attention to you. “Miss L/N,” she says warmly, gesturing for the other man to come forward. “My diamond. Allow me to introduce to you Marquess Yang. Marquess Yang, meet my incomparable of the season.”

Objectively, there’s nothing wrong with the marquess. He’s handsome and seems pleasant enough as he introduces himself and kisses your hand. Still, Taehyun’s heart flares with jealous dislike for the man, but there’s nothing he can do about it. At least, nothing that wouldn’t be improper. 

“Pleased to meet you,” you say, giving the marquess a quick curtsy. You turn to Taehyun, then, and there’s only resignation in your unsmiling eyes. “Forgive me, my lord.”

“There is nothing to forgive,” he replies quickly, returning a short bow. “Perhaps we will catch each other later tonight, my lady.” He kisses your hand, holding your fingers for a touch longer than is strictly necessary. “Have a good evening.” 

With a bow to the queen and a parting smile to the marquess that he doesn’t mean at all, Taehyun heads back into the crowd, knowing that despite his words, he probably won’t get another moment with you all night.

. . . . .

When calling hour ends, you turn to your governess and say in a very quiet voice, “I will be ill tomorrow.”

She blinks once. Twice. “But, my lady—”

“I don’t care what my aunt says,” you state very, very calmly. “Or what my father says. I will be ill. Too ill to get out of bed.”

She glances at your aunt at the other side of the room, ordering rearrangements of some certain bouquets of flowers on the mantel. Then she nods. “As you wish, my lady.”

You breathe a long sigh of relief and stand up. “Thank you.”

No one says anything or tries to stop you when you leave the drawing room and make your way to your bedroom. You sit heavily on your bed and fall onto your back, staring at the ceiling but not really seeing anything. Your head hurts from calling hour and you can’t really process anything between the pounding of your temples. 

Another steady stream of callers came today, all with their colorful flowers and pretty words. Lord Kang wasn’t among them, not even those who were unable to see you before they had to leave and left their cards for you to peruse instead. You can’t blame him—no one calls every day, and you would never expect him to even if you perceive there is interest on his end—but the irrational part of you mumbles that you still would have liked to see him anyway. The flowers he left last week have dried so the servants removed them from your bedside, but you’ve kept his card hidden in one of the drawers of your nightstand. It might sound pathetic, but you’ve taken to tracing his careful handwriting on the creamy paper. It soothes you. Somewhat. 

You’re just so—tired. Of everything. Of the charade of being a debutante, of the title of diamond, of having to sit and be pretty and nod along to all of the men who suddenly see worth in you not for yourself but for the queen’s belated approval. They talk about their plans for the future like you are a guarantee in their lives, a guaranteed little mannequin who will stand there and agree with every decision they make, and worst of all, they’re not even good conversationalists. You’re the first to admit that you aren’t very good at conversing with near strangers, but one of them asked you what makes you tick today. 

What does that even mean?

The Marquess of Schannon, whom the queen introduced to you at the last ball, paid you a call today too. He is not a bad person. In fact, of all those you spoke to, he was the most pleasant. If you hadn’t met Lord Kang, you might have been interested in him—he was very polite, respectful, and seemed genuinely interested in your passion for music. Your conversation with him was pleasant and he didn’t further your headache, and the flowers he brought were very pretty.

But all the while you were speaking with him, you couldn’t help but compare him to Lord Kang. 

Which isn’t fair. You know you should shape your opinion on the marquess independently from anyone else. It’s just—every good thing you thought about the marquess, Lord Kang was either equal, or did it better. 

Speaking with Marquess Yang was pleasant. Speaking with Lord Kang brings you excitement. 

Marquess Yang respects your devotion to the piano. Lord Kang respects your devotion, and engages you in conversation about the topic. 

The marquess is a fine dancer. The quadrille you danced with Lord Kang was the best one you have ever danced yet. 

You breathe out a sigh. The queen means to matchmake you with the marquess, you’re sure. Lady Arina Park said about as much when she caught you at the queen’s ball, though she also cast a very knowing glance at Lord Kang, who was dancing with Mrs. Jung’s daughter. At the end of the conversation, as she turned away, you could have sworn she muttered something along the lines of not meddling in affairs of the heart, but over the low din of the party, you couldn’t be sure. 

On paper, the marquess might be a better match than Lord Kang. A higher title. More land. More riches. But even knowing this, even knowing that the queen approves, you can’t quite bring yourself to see him the way you see Lord Kang.

Affairs of the heart, indeed. You stare at a knot of wood in the ceiling without really seeing it. You’re not sure you love Lord Kang. You’re not sure he loves you either. But you certainly like him, and you don’t think you’re wallowing in delusion when you fancy he likes you as well. You’ve only known each other for a couple of months—you don’t think anyone could truly fall in love so soon, no matter what people say about love matches. But with Lord Kang, at least you can envision the love further along in the future. 

There isn’t even a chance of that with some of your other suitors. 

You squeeze your eyes shut. For all you love piano, you wish you hadn’t been playing the night the queen walked in on your performance. You would still have to sit through calling hour, would still have to make small talk in the ballroom, but it wouldn’t be nearly as much as it is now. Your aunt and father’s approval doesn’t make up for how much your head hurts after you return from social engagements every night. 

And you’d probably get to see Lord Kang more. 

You remember the queen’s ball, when Lord Kang asked if you’d like to get refreshment with him just before the queen introduced you to the marquess. If he’d asked a moment earlier, you wonder if you’d have managed to escape the queen’s notice and been able to spend just a few minutes more with him. Probably not—the queen has eyes like a hawk and would have caught you anyway. Still, though, you wonder. And a treacherous part of you likes to imagine what would have happened if the queen wasn’t there. If you and Lord Kang could have found yourselves by the tables of refreshments, laughing and talking with no one to take either of you away. 

Unlikely. But you wish for it all the same. 

A knock sounds at your door. You bolt upright and wince when your temples twinge in protest. It’s only one of the servants, though. 

“My lady.” She curtsies slightly. “Your aunt bids that the two of you leave soon for your appointment at the modiste.”

Ugh. You’d almost forgotten about that. You give her a tired nod. “Tell her I will be ready shortly.”

. . .

Dresses are nice. Clothes are nice. You don’t mind the modiste, not with its arrays of silks and satins and ribbons that dazzle the eye, not with how nice and how accommodating Madame Delacroix is to everyone in her shop. But today you’re tired and just want to be lying down at home, and you could very much do without your aunt hovering around your fittings and inserting her opinion every time Madame Delacroix so much as moves a pin. 

There are a number of other ladies and their mothers in the shop so you let your mind fade into their buzz of chatter and laughter. A few of the voices you recognize—Mrs. Jung and her shy second daughter looking for new ribbons, the soon-to-be Lady Julia Kingsley shopping for the fabric for her wedding gown—but even though the girls are nice you hope they don’t notice you’re there as you slip out of your nearly-finished gowns as quietly as you can. On any other day you would be happy to chat with them. Right now you just want to go home. 

But someone calls your name as you’re exiting the modiste. You have just enough sense not to curse out loud because your aunt is right next to you and you’re in public, but you’re not sure you manage to wipe the entire grimace off your face before you turn around. You pray that surprise replaced your previous expression before your caller saw it, and it seems it did, because the Duchess of Hastings only gives you a bright smile before walking quickly over to catch up with you. 

“Miss L/N!” she exclaims once she’s close enough. “Lady Taylor,” she then greets your aunt, with much more solemnity. “It is lovely to see the two of you in town today.”

“And you too,” you reply, and you’re only half lying. You’ve seen the duchess a few times since that first gathering, and each time you speak you leave the conversation smiling. If you were to have to speak to anyone at the tail end of this very exhausting day, you’re glad it was her. “Did you have business here? We just left the modiste.”

“Oh, His Grace and I came into town to meet with his solicitor for a few things,” she says. “I didn’t feel I was needed for the last few meetings, so I thought I would walk the streets for some time before meeting him at home.” You reach Gunter’s dessert shop and the duchess stops. “Shall we stop for some ices? They can be most refreshing after a long day.”

As the duchess leads you into the shop, you think wryly that you probably weren’t hiding your exhaustion as well as you thought. 

She’s right. Sitting in the shop with a small cup of dessert, flavored ice cooling your tongue, you feel a bit of the pressure easing away from your temples. If the duchess notices you relaxing, she doesn’t say anything of it—at least until she asks about your season, and if anyone has caught your eye just yet. She has a strange, somewhat knowing expression on her face, but you try to pay it no mind as you answer. 

“The dancing is nice,” you say truthfully, but meaningfully. 

The duchess snickers in a way that is distinctly unladylike but even though you can see your aunt’s face scrunching up in the corner, that snicker allows you to smile. “Is anything else about it nice?” she asks.

You pause before answering with a question. “You were the diamond of your season, were you not?” She nods. “How did you find it, may I ask?”

“I enjoyed it,” she replies, and your heart sinks. “I quite like meeting new people, and it is a great honor to be chosen by the queen. Though it perhaps made a difference that there wasn’t anybody…meddling, I suppose, in my options for marriage.” 

You blink. “The queen did not seek to introduce you to anybody?”

She shakes her head. “I was already being courted by one of the most eligible bachelors of the ton, not even the season. I don’t suppose Her Majesty found it her prerogative to try and find me someone else.”

Annoyance and anger, not at the duchess, but at the queen herself, rises in your throat so quickly it surprises you. Where did this come from? You stare into the melting remains of your ice, its syrup suddenly cloyingly sweet on your tongue. The duchess said the queen didn’t find it her prerogative to interfere in her courtship. So why does she find it necessary for you?

Because she doesn’t think Lord Kang is good enough. 

Ah. There it is. The anger—the annoyance that the queen would deem Lord Kang, one of the best men you’ve met this entire season, unworthy of you. That she would not trust you to make the decision on your own, and must prod you in different directions like a doll in her playhouse. Quite like your father and aunt. Quite like the other men who have been calling on you these past few weeks. 

You’re so damn tired of people thinking they know best for you. 

“I don’t think I should have been the diamond,” you say quietly, so that only the duchess hears you. “Not for my talent or hard work. The thing is, I’m a quiet person, Your Grace. I am not really a sociable person. I am not very good at conversing. I just don’t…enjoy the social season the way other people do.” You look up from your ice to see the duchess gazing back at you thoughtfully. “Many of the other ladies of the season are as talented and hardworking as I, only in other spheres, and would likely be far more receptive than I to the…maneuverings, if you will, of our queen.”

The duchess remains silent. 

You start to panic. “I do not mean that I am ungrateful for Her Majesty’s approval. It is an honor. I only—”

“Miss L/N. Y/N.” The duchess takes your hands across the table. “May I call you that?”

Dumbly, you nod. 

“Excellent. You must call me by my name, then.” She smiles and your heart, which had been beating a little too fast, starts to slow down. “As friends.”

Slowly you nod again. 

“The season is not enjoyable for everyone,” she states. “You are none the worse for feeling that way. I had moments in my season that I did not like. And I can fully understand how, for someone of a more introverted nature, it might be more of a chore than is usually expected.” She leans a little over the table, still holding your hands. “But I will say this to you. You are the diamond, Y/N. And while this means people are watching you, it also means that you have some measure of freedom to act as you like. Refuse dances from those with whom you don’t wish to dance. Only accept as many dances as you need. And if you can, try to ignore those who would meddle in your affairs for their own gain. You are the diamond. You can afford to do these things more than others can.” The duchess squeezes your hands. “You know yourself better than anyone, your wants and desires. You should be in control of those. No one else.”

Stupidly, you feel tears welling up in your eyes. You blink them away as much as you can. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

“Oh, come now.” The duchess laughs. “Call me by my name. We are friends, are we not?”

You give her a watery smile in return. “Yes, we are.” Taking a shaky breath, you brush away a tear as discreetly as you can. “Thank you. I’m not the most upfront person, even with myself. I…I needed that.”

“You’re most welcome,” she replies warmly. “If I may I ask…”

You blink. “Yes?”

“You have someone in mind, don’t you?”

Your cheeks suddenly feel hot. “…Yes.”

“Is it Lord Kang?”

Now you think you understand the knowing look the duchess had in her eye earlier. “How long have you known?”

“Known? Only since now.” Her eyes crinkle with teasing mischief. “But I suspected as much at my gathering. You two were so engrossed in conversation, I couldn’t help but notice.” Oblivious to your embarrassment, she continues. “And if I remember correctly, he danced with you twice at the queen’s ball, no?”

“He did.” And a wonderful two dances those were.

The duchess eyes you like she can hear your thoughts. Honestly, she very well might—she’s incredibly perceptive. “He’s a good man, Y/N. A very good one.” She pauses a moment, as though weighing her next words. “I was not the most receptive to him, not at first.” Her smile turns a little painful as she looks into cup. “My father died very suddenly and without an heir. When I found out the estate was to pass to Lord Kang—someone I had never known, inheriting the only home I had ever known—to be frank, I was very angry.” She shakes her head. “My whole life was in that estate. My best memories were there, in my father’s library.” 

You listen, rapt. 

“But Lord Kang is a kind man. He was a kind man even when I was angry with him, unjustifiably. After all, he was as confused and bewildered by the entire situation as I was. But when he learned of my love for literature, and my sorrow at having lost my father’s library to the estate he now owns, he offered me free use of the library. We send books back and forth now, and he takes my recommendations just as I take his.” The duchess raises her head, and the smile on her lips seems to bring joy to the entire shop. “He is a very good friend, and I think he would be very good with you.”

Your throat feels too tight to speak. “Thank you,” is all you manage to say in reply. 

“Of course.” She motions to your empty cups. “Shall we have these taken away?”

A worker whisks away your empty cups, and after you pay for your treats, the duchess walks you outside. Once on the street, she takes your hands again and smiles. “Be brave, Y/N,” she says, looking at you with such sincerity you almost want to cry again. “You deserve good things. But you must come to take them for yourself.”

. . . . .

Yeonjun has just poured everyone a drink when the duchess comes sweeping in with the wind, full of apologies for being late. “I deeply apologize,” she says again, kissing Yeonjun lightly on the cheek before sitting next to him. “I hope Yeonjun hasn’t already bored you all to death.”

Everyone except Yeonjun laughs, Beomgyu’s cackle the loudest of all. Taehyun smiles over his drink as the duke pouts deeply, regaining his smile only when his wife whispers something in his ear. “Is everything all right?” he asks as the laughter subsides. “You didn’t have any trouble in town, did you?”

“Oh, no.” She shakes her head. “I just ran into someone and we spent a little too long catching up, I suppose.” The duchess looks at Taehyun meaningfully, and he only has a second to wonder why before she continues. “Miss L/N was just leaving the modiste, and we went to Gunter’s for ices after. I lost track of time.”

Miss L/N?

“You look remarkably unruffled for one who is so late,” Beomgyu points out, and Taehyun forces all thoughts of you out of his brain to focus on the conversation. 

“Perhaps because I knew you would be here,” she shoots back, which sends everyone into laughter again. “Anyhow, I’m sure you all are curious as to why Yeonjun and I invited you here today.”

“You’re making me nervous,” Kai mutters.

Yeonjun laughs, though there’s a strange edge to it. Taehyun can’t quite tell if it’s a good thing or a bad thing. “Well…” he starts, then turns to his wife. “Do you want to say it?” he murmurs. 

“I can.” She takes a deep breath before a glowing smile spreads across her lips. “I am with child.”

For a moment, the room remains dead silent. Taehyun himself can hardly believe his ears. Then he’s grinning, and so is everyone else, and the silence explodes into cheers and cries of congratulations and he’s hugging first the duke, then the duchess, and in this moment, the whole world feels perfect. Nothing could be better right now—nothing could beat the happiness he feels right now for his two good friends. 

“Congratulations,” Taehyun says again when the celebration has died down. His voice feels thick—he can hardly speak through the emotion filling his throat. “How long have you two known?”

“The doctor confirmed last week,” Yeonjun says, smiling down at his wife with so much love in his eyes it almost hurts. “We told our mothers the day after.”

“Well, now I know why you only invited us tonight,” Lady Choi says, her eyes sparkling. Next to her, her husband, Soobin, can’t seem to keep his own grin off his face. “You don’t want the entire ton knowing too soon, do you?”

“Not just yet.” The duchess shakes her head. “We plan to keep it out of Whistledown for some time.”

Several more rounds of congratulations follow, and by then they’ve all finished their drinks and are heading into the dining room. It’s a small group—just him, Yeonjun, Beomgyu, Kai, Soobin, and their wives—so they don’t observe the usual formalities, just sit down around the table laughing and chatting as one. The meal is filled with so much gaiety that he nearly forgets the duchess’s strange look earlier just before she mentioned your name. But as the dinner winds to a close, he remembers, and he can’t help but wonder what you and the duchess talked about. He won’t ask, of course, and he doesn’t even know if you talked about him, but the irrational part of him wants to know anyway.

Finally, after the meal, they all retire to the drawing room, where Lady Choi starts telling a story about Soobin that has his face turning red and the rest of them laughing. Partway through, Taehyun goes to pour himself a drink, only to look up and see the duchess standing next to him. 

He motions to the bottle. “Would you like a drink?” Then he remembers. “Oh, I don’t suppose you would.”

She smiles. “Not alcohol, though I would not say no to the lemonade. Thank you.” While a chorus of laughter sounds in the background, she and Taehyun raise their glasses with a smile. She takes a sip, then looks at him directly. “I saw Miss L/N earlier, you know.”

His heart, cliché as it sounds, skips a beat. “You mentioned, yes.”

For a moment, the duchess remains silent, her lips pursed as though contemplating her next words carefully. “Can we be honest, Taehyun?” she finally asks. 

He blinks. “Of course.”

“Is there a reason you haven’t proposed to her yet?”

Taehyun almost chokes on his drink. “What—” 

“I’m not trying to interrogate you,” the duchess says wryly. “Don’t look so frightened.”

“I’m not frightened.” Taehyun clears his throat, praying he doesn’t look too embarrassed. “But…why do you ask?”

“The season is almost halfway over,” she states matter-of-factly. “She is the diamond, and she clearly likes you. You danced with her twice at the queen’s ball, which is tantamount to declaring your intentions to the entire ton. What, now, is stopping you from asking for her hand?”

He opens his mouth. Closes it. He can already feel an excuse on the tip of his tongue—it has still only been three months, I’m not sure how she feels, I don’t know if she even wants me—but those would all be lies. Distractions, at least, from the full truth. The duchess bade him to be honest, and he won’t disrespect her by acting otherwise. 

“She is a quiet woman,” he says slowly. “And I do not want to come onto her too strongly. I know that people have married in less time than we’ve known each other, but while we get along very well, I suppose I wanted to…make certain that she would do well with me, and that I would do well with her, should we be married.”

The duchess nods slowly. “I understand this,” she says, “but you are a man who knows what he wants, and when you want something, you seek it out.” She pauses. “Why do you wait so long to seek her?”

His first response is I do. But even though that is true, over the past weeks… “The queen does not approve of me.” He says this with certainty, a bitter taste filling his mouth. “You must know this. She believes her diamond to be fit for a marquess, not an earl like I. And, truth be told…” Taehyun sighs. “I would like to at least allow her to make the decision. The Marquess of Schannon has a higher title, owns more land and has much greater wealth than I. He could provide for her much better than I.”

“But you are not the one who should make that decision for her.”

Taehyun gapes at the duchess’s sharp tone. Her eyes soften, but her voice remains as steady as before. “My marriage to Yeonjun did not thrive only because he could provide for me,” she says quietly. “It became what it is now because we got along, because we could laugh with and at one another, because we can be free with each other. I do not think that Miss L/N is the type of woman to value wealth and security over her own freedom, and I implore you not to dishonor her by thinking otherwise.”

“Of course not!” Taehyun snaps. “I just…” He swallows, and his entire throat tastes bitter. “I want to be enough for her.”

“I understand.” The duchess smiles. “You want to be the best man to her that you can be. But trust me when I say that your worth in her life—or in anyone’s life—is not defined by the gold you bring to the table. You and your character are what she will fall in love with. Not your money.”

Taehyun’s cheeks burn.

From the twinkle in the duchess’s eye, she definitely notices, but thankfully she says nothing of it. “Talk to her, Taehyun,” she says softly. “I think you will find she likes you far more than even you expect.”

. . . . .

When you wake up the next morning, you don’t bother to stifle a groan when you remember you’re to be entertaining callers again today. Then you remember that your governess is supposed to tell your aunt that you are horrifically ill, and your earlier dread quickly turns into relief as you pull your covers over your head again, rumpling your sheets and pillows. Your aunt will probably poke into your room to check if you’re actually ill, and you need to look the part. 

The servants come to dress you for the day. When they can’t get you to roll out of bed, they send for your governess, who gives you a rather anxious look before calling for your aunt, as you expected. You hear them coming back to your room together, just as you expected, but perhaps the prospect of speaking to near-strangers for an entire afternoon has you looking grimmer than you thought because she backs out of the room rather quickly without much need for explanation. 

Under your covers, you breathe a sigh of relief. Yesterday, the duchess said to be brave, and not force yourself to endure or take anything you don’t want. You plan to take her up on her advice, but not now. Being brave can wait another day. 

You spend the morning in a blissful haze, drifting in and out of sleep without anyone coming to bother you. Your governess comes in for a moment to tell you all your engagements for the day have been cancelled, which puts you in an even better mood. The day is marred somewhat by the arrival of a truly vile-looking tonic from the cook along with your lunch that she swears will have you feeling better in no time, but you manage to dump it out of your window before the servants return to take your tray away. You settle back into bed with one of the books Taehyun lent you and happily resign yourself to a quiet, uninterrupted afternoon. 

A few hours later, rapid footsteps sound in the hall just outside your room and you quickly put the book away, sliding under your covers and shutting your eyes. Several frantic knocks sound at your door. You wait a moment before groaning, “Come in.”

Maybe you should’ve taken up a career in acting instead of music. 

To your relief, it’s only your governess, who looks oddly excited. You push yourself up in bed with a questioning frown. “What is it?” Then you see she’s holding something, too. “What is that?”

She hands you a card, then places a lovely bouquet of flowers on your nightstand. “Read it,” she says, but your eyes have already latched onto the name etched elegantly into the center of the calling card, and the familiar handwriting on the back. 

Miss L/N—

I apologize for having to write this simple card instead of calling on you in person—I have had sudden business to take care of that kept me busy all of calling hour, or I would have come earlier. In the absence of being able to speak today, I wonder if you would promenade with me in Hyde Park tomorrow? I should like to see you again, and I have some things I would like to ask you, if I may. 

And then, an addendum in a script considerably messier than the rest, indicating some haste with which it was written—

Your governess has just informed me that you are ill. If you are still feeling ill tomorrow, please do not feel obligated to join me—we will simply find another time and place, should you be willing. Do feel better soon, my lady. I pray for your rapid recovery.

You look at your governess. “I will be recovered tomorrow,” you say, trying and failing to hide your growing smile. “In the morning, please send a note to Lord Kang informing him of my intention to join him at the park.”

Your governess smiles back, just as brightly. “As you wish, my lady.”

. . . . .

The afternoon is lovely, the sun golden and warm and only a few clouds drifting lazily across the sky, but everything seems to become a little brighter when Taehyun catches your eye across the park. He speeds up his steps, trying to rein in his own smile as he walks up to you over the green. “Miss L/N,” he greets, holding out his arm. “How are you? I hope you are not still feeling ill.”

“Not at all, thankfully.” You smile with all the warmth of the sun. “I can’t imagine what overtook me yesterday, but I am feeling much better today. In any case, it is good to see you too.” 

The two of you make small chatter as you start on the winding path around the park. Many people are out today, and between you, the sunlight, and their infectious cheer, Taehyun stops trying to rein in his smile and just lets it spread wide across his lips. When you reach a small grove of trees, though, you turn to him with a somewhat more serious expression upon your face. “In your note, you mentioned you had some things about which you wanted to discuss with me, my lord,” you say. “Might I ask what you wanted to say?”

“And if I just wanted to speak to you again after not having seen you for a good number of days?” he teases, heart melting with fondness when you turn away, clearly shy. “I jest, though it is true that I very much wanted to see you,” he continues more seriously. “I suppose I wanted to...” He swallows, then just decides to say it before he gets too scared to. “What are your thoughts on marriage?”

For a long moment, you don’t reply. For all Taehyun tries not to show his anxiety he’s not too certain he’s succeeding, especially when you look back at him. “To anyone?” you finally ask. 

The forthrightness of your question stuns him for a moment. In the time he’s known you, you’ve always been quiet, somewhat shy—he would not have expected such a question from you. But then he remembers you are also honest and very much in control of your own mind, and suddenly the question is not so surprising. 

You are honest with him. Taehyun will not disrespect you with a dishonest response. “To anyone,” he says truthfully, heart pounding. “But I would not mind a response specific to me.”

Your little laugh settles some of the anxiety threatening to burst from his chest. “To you, I would view marriage quite favorably.” You smile, and between your words and the light dappling through the trees onto your face and figure, Taehyun has to catch his breath. “Though to anyone else, the answer would be the opposite.”

Relief threatens to choke up his throat before he can reply. He truly hadn’t realized he was so nervous until you answered him favorably. “Might I ask why?” he asks quietly. 

You look up at the trees, at the sunlight peeking through the leaves. “When I returned to London, I didn’t know if I wanted to marry. I spent so long abroad, alone with only the piano as any real constant in my life, and the way everyone spoke of marriage, it seemed like it was a given that I should give up my passion for music in exchange for the hand of someone I didn’t even know yet.” Your lips turn up in a wry little smile. “I considered just trying to reach the age of a spinster, you know. In that case my father might send me back to the continent, and without the pressure of being a young lady of marriageable age, I might earn some money performing again, and at least I might see my dowry then.”

Taehyun frowns. “Your dowry?”

Your expression twists somewhat bitterly. “My father took my performance earnings for my dowry.”

“That…” Taehyun shakes his head, at a loss for words. “You earned that income yourself, so it should be yours, no?”

“That is what I thought as well,” you reply, your dry tone hardly managing to disguise the annoyance of your words. “So you see, then, why I did not quite view marriage through a favorable lens at first.”

Taehyun swallows. “What made you change your mind?”

You take a deep breath. “Not much, at first,” you say lowly. “I wanted respect in marriage. It does not seem like it should be such a difficult thing for which to ask. But as I went through the season, I realized…apparently it is quite a task.” You shake your head. “There were so many with whom I spoke—so many who had already planned a future out for them and their unknown wives. It was so strange. They would just talk at me, saying all these things, and never even asked what I wanted.” 

Inwardly, Taehyun feels a little sick. He knows many of the young men in the ton, and likely some of them are included in those who spoke to you this way. The season is difficult for debutantes—that’s no secret—but even though he knows that…he didn’t really. Not until you just said it out loud. To be dehumanized in this way, and spoken to like an object. “I’m sorry,” he says lamely. 

“Don’t apologize.” You wave his words away. “You are one of the few who never condescended to me in such a fashion, you have nothing to apologize for.” You look up at him with a small smile. It eases some of his guilt. “I also do not doubt I wasn’t a stunning conversationalist, given that I do not quite enjoy speaking with strangers, though I will not take all the blame for that. I mean, I was once asked what makes me tick.” You laugh helplessly. “I don’t even know what that means.” 

Taehyun makes a face. Tick? “I don’t either.” 

“The season is what it is.” You’ve reached the edge of the trees, stepping back into the full sunshine. “I gather that all the men and women are used to this sort of thing. And, well—perhaps if I had been raised to believe I would one day command an entire estate and everyone in it, I might think the same way as many of those who wished to ask for my suit. Most of them weren’t unkind, after all.” You cast your eyes downward, fidgeting with your dress. “Just…”

“You give them too much credit,” Taehyun says quietly. “None of the things you’ve mentioned would give anyone the privilege not to extend respect to others.”

You nod slightly, still looking down. “I think,” you finally say, “from the beginning, I decided that if I was to marry anyone, I would need my own freedom to play the piano, and in general to have my own passions. I will not give up music for anything, my lord. It has kept me sane all these years. My cousins will tease that I am married to the piano and while it is an overwrought joke, there is some truth to it.” You look up again, meeting his eyes directly. “Very few people have truly respected my passions for what they are to me. In marriage, I will not bring yet another person into my life to clip my wings.”

Taehyun considers his next words carefully. “If you were guaranteed your freedom, then, would you still marry someone?”

“Yes,” you reply immediately. “Because if that person would guarantee my freedom, I would know that they cared for me enough that they wouldn’t clip my wings in a way that would hurt me.”

For a few moments the two of you walk in silence. You’ve been at the park for some time, now—the sun is beginning to sink a little lower, the edges of the sky fading from blue to a pale pink. Taehyun looks at you and, against his will, doubt wells in his chest. He respects you, respects you so much—as a musician, as a woman, as a person who has come into his life and for whom he’s grown to care very much. But will that be enough? You deserve only the best of the things in the world. While well-off, Taehyun isn’t the wealthiest in town. Others, materially, could provide for you better. Could give you all the lovely things you deserve. 

But you are not the one who should make that decision for her.

The voice of the duchess rings through Taehyun’s mind and he swallows hard. Right. He will not cut his own suit short for fear that he may not be enough. If you have seen something in him to love, all he can do is strive every day to provide you with happiness. 

It is the least you deserve.

“I plan to call on your father in the next few days,” he says quietly. “To ask for his permission to propose to you.” Out of the corner of his eye you turn to look at him, and even though his heart is beating faster than it ever has before, he forces himself to meet your gaze. “Would you be amenable—”

“Yes!” The word bursts from your lips, cutting off his question. You look supremely embarrassed for a moment and Taehyun can’t hide his own smile at your adorable expression, but you don’t back down. “Yes, Lord Kang,” you repeat, considerably more calmly. “I would be.”

Taehyun takes a deep breath and tries not to show all the butterflies fluttering about in his own stomach. “Thank goodness,” he says, praying his voice isn’t trembling. He laughs a little. “You don’t know how nervous I was to ask that.”

Your eyes crinkle into a smile brighter than the setting sun. “You did a wonderful job of hiding it.”

Taehyun doesn’t really know how he gets through the rest of your walk. He says many things and so do you, but by the time the sun has finally sunk too low to ignore and you’ve circled the park at least three times, his mind is still just a blur of she said yes she said yes she said yes. “I will leave you here tonight, my lady,” he says when it comes time to part ways. “I do hope I will see you soon.”

“You will,” you reply. And as Taehyun is parsing your bold response, in full view of the ton, you take a deep breath of your own, looking him straight in the eye with a little smile. “After all, my lord, you must still call on me so that I might return your books, no?”

Half of the ton looks at you. Half of the ton looks at him. Taehyun himself has to take a moment to grapple with the implications of your deceptively innocent question—the public declaration that you have seen each other often enough to speak like this, that you have exchanged gifts beyond the typical flowers and jewels, that you are close enough to demand that he come to see you and not the other way around. 

That he has not just chosen to court him, but that you have chosen him as your suitor, as well.

All of this has his head spinning though not necessarily in a bad way, and throughout all this your eyes have remained steadily on his, twinkling in the remnants of sunlight. Taehyun’s cheeks are warm with the attention but, he decides, two can play this game. “Taehyun,” he says, smiling when you cock your head in confusion. “If I am to see you again, you must call me by my name. Not ‘my lord.’ Not ‘Lord Kang.’” He takes your hand. “Taehyun.”

You look down at your joined hands, then up at him. And in that moment, with the pink light of sunset glowing around your figure and the shy smile curving your lips as comprehension dawns on your face, Taehyun really wants to kiss you. He abstains because kissing in full view of the ton when you’re not even married is probably a step too far for both of you, but nonetheless, he still wishes. “Taehyun,” he murmurs. “None of the ‘my lord’ nonsense.”

Your laugh carries on the wind, a warm, sweet melody to his ears. “If you are Taehyun, then I am Y/N.” Your eyes sparkle, either oblivious or far too discerning as to how much he enjoyed hearing his name from your lips. “A fair trade, no?”

“Very fair, Miss—” He catches himself, smiling. “Y/N.” Lifting your hand to his lips, he kisses it softly, just as he always has before. “Take care, Y/N. I will see you soon.”

. . . . .

The next morning, you’re at your piano, squinting at a new piece of music when a knock sounds at the door. “Come in,” you say absently, still eyeing the difficult passage your fingers just can’t seem to get right.

“Miss L/N.” One of the servants steps in. “Your father would like to see you.”

Your hand freezes in the air. “My father?”

The servant leads you down the halls in silence, leaving your mind to wonder about all manner of things that your father could have called you for. He rarely summons you for—well, anything. Most of the time you barely catch a glimpse of him before the day is over. The only thing you can think of is Lord Kang—Taehyun— coming to propose his suit, and he said that he would come in the next few days, not—

You come to a stop in front of your father’s office, eyes wide. Would he truly have come so soon?

The servant knocks for you. When your father’s voice bids you come in, you’re still rattled enough by the thought that it takes you a moment to step through the door. 

You curtsy, if a little lamely. “Father.”

“Y/N.” He gestures to the seat in front of his desk. “Sit down.”

You sit. 

The time you sit in silence cannot have been more than a few seconds. Half a minute, at most. But with every tick of the clock you find it harder and harder not to fidget in this seat until your finger catches on a loose string of your dress and you give in to the urge to fiddle with it. Anything to keep you occupied as the silence stretches longer and longer. 

Finally, your father opens his mouth to speak. “Lord Kang came by just now. The Earl of Addiston.”

Your heart skips at least three beats and you feel a warmth emanating from your chest, spreading slowly through the rest of your body. “I see.”

“He asked for my permission to propose to you.”

Giddy excitement threatens to show itself on your face. You force your expression to remain still. “Did you consent?”

Your father looks at you long and hard. “Do you wish to marry him?”

Frustration and annoyance threaten to color your features, but you’ve remained quiet and placid for so many years that you manage to stop it from showing. What exactly does he want from you? Did he say yes, or did he say no? Why does he want to know if you would accept Taehyun’s suit? What does it matter to him? Then a terrible thought occurs to you. 

What if he already said no? 

Breathe. You force yourself to inhale. Exhale. You let go of the stray thread on your dress. “Did you consent?”

Your father’s eyes grow hard. “I asked you a question.”

“As did I.” You swallow hard. “And might I remind you, I asked it first.”

Your father is looking at you like he doesn’t quite know you. Which, you suppose, is true. He never really did. Never really cared to in the first place. But to be fair, you’ve never acted this way to him—or to anyone in the household, really—until today. 

Unfortunately, you are still a quiet person, cowed in your father’s presence, so after too many seconds of silence pass you finally reply. “But if you must know, yes. If he proposed, I would marry him.” 

Tension slowly fills the air the longer you look at your father. He must have realized what you said—or what you didn’tsay, really. If he proposed, I would marry him. Not if you consented, I would marry him. 

Subtle differences. But while you don’t necessarily enjoy the social season, you’ve been around enough to pick up on just how much subtlety can convey. 

“I asked if you wanted to marry him,” your father finally says. “Not if you would.”

You grit your teeth. What exactly is he playing at? “The answer to that is yes as well.”

He folds his hands. Leans back in his chair. Looks at you unflinchingly. You try to do the same even though it’s getting harder to control your expression. “I gave my consent,” he finally says, apparently oblivious to you doing your absolute best not to slump over in relief. “But he is an earl, daughter. Your Aunt Taylor tells me you have other suitors. Would you not want a marquess?”

It takes everything in you not to laugh. To not even scoff. “Father,” you say slowly, “trust me when I say I will not be receiving a proposal from a marquess this season.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Not the Marquess of Schannon?”

“Marquess Yang is a good man,” you say. “But I do not believe I am what he is looking for in a wife.”

“You are the diamond,” your father presses. “What else could he want in a wife?”

Good lord. How did your mother marry this man? “A connection, perhaps.” You try not to sound too sarcastic. “Someone he could care about and be a good partner to.”

He shakes his head. “You do not want a marquess?”

You sigh. “Father, if Lord Kang was a marquess, I would want a marquess. If he was a viscount, I would want a viscount.” Finally, you let some of your annoyance bleed through your tone. “I would marry Lord Kang, whatever title he had. I like him, Father, and if he wishes to have me, I will have him.”

Your father sighs. “Well, his estate is certainly large, and he is of good lineage.” As if those were the reasons you want to marry him. “I will approve this match, daughter, if it makes you happy.”

If it makes you happy. You almost snort, but instead you school features into neutrality. “Thank you, Father.” And as soon as you can after that, you leave the room. 

You run into your governess just down the corridor. But while you have to skid to a stop to avoid her, it looks like she’s been expecting you. “My lady,” she says breathlessly. “Lord Kang is in the drawing room, waiting for you.”

Your mind goes blank. Your governess takes the opportunity to start pushing you toward the stairs. 

Just outside the drawing room, you have to stop in order to take a few breaths. For some reason, even though you know what’s going to happen, your heart is beating like no tomorrow. Steadying yourself, you look up to the ceiling and say a quick prayer before stepping into the room. 

Lord Kang—Taehyun—turns around the moment you walk in and immediately his smile spreads wide across his face, more welcome and beautiful than anything you’ve ever seen. “My lady,” he says, bowing to your curtsy. There is a bouquet of flowers in his hand. “How are you this morning?”

“I thought I told you to call me by my name,” you say, not bothering to hide your own smile. “Oh, thank you.” You take the flowers he’s extending to you, suddenly feeling very shy. 

“Forgive me. Y/N.” His eyes grow softer, a sweet laugh escaping his lips. “I spoke to your father earlier.”

“I know.” You sit on the couch and he follows suit. Your governess makes to take the flowers, probably to put them in a vase somewhere, but you wave her off. You need something to hold or you’ll get too nervous and start fidgeting, and besides, they’re pretty. “He spoke to me just now. Though I must confess, I did not expect you to come so soon.” 

“Why wait?” Taehyun’s quips back, the corners of his lips quirking up. “I suppose, then, that you know what I came here to do.” He takes a deep breath, and out of the corner of your eye, you see your governess slipping out of the room. 

“You said you would need respect in marriage,” Taehyun says quietly. “Freedom, to pursue your own passions. I know you already said that you would view marriage favorably with me, but I wanted to make it known that I have always had, and always will have, an incredible amount of respect for you and your work, and that I would never deliberately endeavor to wrench you from it.” He tilts his head slightly. “And if I ever do so unintentionally, I beg that you tell me immediately so that I might rectify my mistake.”

You nod slowly, your heart full to bursting already. 

“In return, I only ask that you allow me the same respect. Not that you have ever given me a reason to assume you would otherwise.” His eyes crinkle with his smile. “And, if I may, Y/N…I do not know much of the love that which poets speak of, but even if I do not love you know given it has only been a few months since our meeting, I do believe that love will come very easily with you.”

Throat full of emotion, all you can do is nod. “And I, you,” you whisper, hardly able to breathe.

Taehyun pulls a small box out of his pocket. Eyes never leaving yours, he opens it, revealing a lovely ring inside. 

The breaths you couldn’t take lodges in your throat. You almost choke. Despite your ungainly behavior, the ring sparkles cheerfully in the morning sunshine, a simple band of gold set with a pearl, surrounded by tiny diamonds that throw light onto your face. “It’s beautiful,” you get out when you finally regain your voice. 

“There are several betrothal rings in my family’s collection, but I thought this one would suit you best,” Taehyun says. He looks at you so very softly, so very gently. “It’s yours if you would like to have it.”

There might be tears in your eyes, but you force them back as you nod once, twice. “I would,” you barely manage to whisper. 

You aren’t wearing gloves, so when Taehyun takes your hand this time, you almost jolt with the sensation of his warm skin against yours. He slides the ring onto your finger but doesn’t let go of your hand, even as the two of you admire it in the sunlight. “It’s lovely,” you breathe. 

Taehyun smiles. “I would say the hand,” he replies gently. 

You have the sudden realization that if you are to live the rest of your life with quiet compliments such as this, you might not survive more than few more years before you melt into a puddle on the ground. 

“I will call the banns for us,” Taehyun continues, as if he hadn’t just floored you with five simple words. “We can be married as soon as is comfortable. And as for your dowry, it’s yours to spend as you wish.” He laughs at your dumbfounded state. “I won’t touch a penny—” 

Before even you know what you’re doing, you’ve cut Taehyun off by wrapping your arms around him, pulling him to you in a warm embrace. The tears you tried to hold back have begun to fall and you’re well aware of how improper this is, but you couldn’t help it. “Thank you,” you whisper. “Thank you, Taehyun.”

His own arms settle around you, warmly, gently. “Of course, Y/N,” he murmurs, his words ghosting softly past your ear. “For you, always.”

. . . . .

epilogue.

Since you were young, you’ve grown used to rising early. Reading or practicing as the sun peeks over the horizon is incredibly calming, and it always sets the tone well for what you must do the rest of the day. 

The first few days after your wedding, though, every morning you remain in bed long after your usual waking time. Not least because the night’s exertions exhaust you, but it’s so wonderful to wake up in your husband’s arms, soft rays of sunlight peeking through the curtains and falling onto his face. Taehyun has always been handsome, but you think that he looks best in the morning light, his eyes softly closed, all the worries drained away from his face in slumber. 

After a week, though, you find yourself awake at your typical time, mind itching to return to your routine. You lie in bed for a few minutes longer with your eyes closed, but when sleep doesn’t overtake you again, you give in to the restless urge and slip out of the sheets as quietly as you can. Taehyun shifts a little in his sleep and you waver in your decision, but he eventually stills, breaths evening again. After kissing his forehead softly, you pad out of the room.

In the music room, you pull out a quiet sonata with which to accompany the rising sun. And as your fingers slowly dance over the keys, grey light turning pink through the window, your mind settles and so does your heart, an unconscious smile drifting over your lips. 

The door opens after some time. You look up at the creaking sound, letting the music fade away. In the doorway stands your husband dressed somewhat haphazardly, his hair still half a mess, sleep still evident in his eyes. He looks rather adorable. 

“Good morning,” you say, not even trying to hide your smile. “Is something wrong?”

“I woke up,” he mumbles back. “You weren’t there.” His eyes open a little more, a small, wry smile playing on his lips. “You’re an early riser.”

“I have been since I was young.” You make to rise but Taehyun waves you back down, instead coming to sit next to you on the piano bench. “I tried not to wake you. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” He lets his head fall onto your shoulder and his nose pokes right into the crook of your neck, right where you remember seeing a small red bruise from last night. You make a small noise but instead of moving away he just turns his head and kisses it. 

Heat floods your body. “Taehyun,” you hiss. 

“Y/N,” he says back, and even though you can’t really see his face you know he must be smiling. “Come back to bed. We’re still on our honeymoon.”

You laugh softly. “I won’t be able to sleep.”

“We don’t have to sleep,” he murmurs in reply, nipping lightly at the bruise. You hiss and swat at him but he easily dodges with a laugh. “Please, Y/N. Just a few hours more.”

You have known this man for just five months, been married to him barely a week, but already you’re completely weak to him and his large eyes. Though you try to suppress it, your smile grows wider as you finally acquiesce. “Let me finish playing through this,” you compromise, gesturing to the piano, “and then we can go.”

“Perfect.” Taehyun kisses you softly. “I love you.”

Your breath catches, just as it has every time he’s said those three words since the first night of your marriage. And as pink sunlight settles in the room, lighting on his face and yours, you give in to the melody singing in your heart and kiss him back. “I love you too.”

Reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed this, and have a lovely day :)

[crazyforbarbatos]

Obey Me! Brothers take care of their baby while you’re away

Warning: possible heart attack from cuteness

Y/C/N = Your Child’s Name

you know, his baby was pretty well behaved

but was pretty restless after you left

a day without you was lonely

not just for your baby but him as well

you just always knew what to say and do

“I know you’re not going to want to sit with me at my desk for hours, so let’s go find something that you’ll like.”

honestly he would try different things to see what your baby seemed to enjoy

cats? anime? reading? sleeping? different foods? money? shopping?

he was a bit prideful when his baby seemed to relax when he put on some music on his record player

“A fellow Mozart enthusiast? Excellent taste.”

he also realized that his darling child also really adored Cerberus

and Cerberus really was fond of Y/C/N, even lifting them up when they stumbled over

it was never a fun time when you had to go somewhere

it wasn’t that your baby didn’t like him, it wasn’t that

just why do you have to go? can’t you take them?

they miss you, come back

like father like baby

but the credit card teether seemed to calm them down fine

honestly Mammon would try to find something to keep them busy for the day

“Why don’t we make something for mama/papa?”

and just like that, the two would spend the day finger painting or coloring with crayons

Luckily he was prepared for this

not to mention he’s played lots of games where you had to take care of a baby

not to mention your whole theme for this baby was them being your player 3

he would have a box of toys in his room for his baby

he always made sure that his prized collectables were no way in reach or had the possibilities of falling

He would pull up a nice game like mario or sonic and set them on his lap

he would give them their tiny baby controller and he’d have his

“You’re the expert, Y/C/N, ready?”

he’d be watching their tiny fingers hit buttons and would play accordingly to his baby’s playstyle so they’d think they were really playing

but he’d also help them win

“Woah, Y/C/N! You’ve beaten my highest score!”

honestly you going out gave him the opportunity to take his baby out of a father-baby day

he would have his baby carrier strapped to his front and he’d be carrying a diaper bag full of everything that was surely needed

he even had a guide to babies for dummies daddies

he knew what he was doing, but just in case

he would take his baby to a cat café and then to a local library where he could a picture book about cats softly

“Which kitty do you like best Y/C/N?”

he might even been conned into getting a kitten for your child

as if he could resist the hopeful eyes and charming smile

“Y/C/N, do you wanna go prank Lucifer after this?”

he would only get a devilish giggle from his child, but he knew that it was a yes

SHOPPING TRIP!!!

his child was in need of the latest fashion

and frankly so was he

“You’re the best dressed in the whole world, Y/C/N-besides me of course.”

he would even ask his child what shade of certain makeup he would think fit him for the day

honestly this trip would be a great way for people to see him

and lord does he love the attention

and luckily for him, his child did too

Beel would be on a mission to make sure that his little one was entertained while you were gone

breakfast together and then it was off to say hello to the other uncles

he got a baby book from Satan who he’d asked to get for Y/C/N

he asked Levi to sew Y/C/N’s favorite teddy back up after being used as a teether

a brief nap with Uncle Bels was needed as they had a long day yet

he would take them to the park so they could play on the swing or go down the slide

he would be grateful to Mammon when he agreed to come along

“Y/C/N? Want some ice cream?”

heh

he would feed his baby and change them if need be

he’d change them into their little cow onesie & wear a matching one himself

and then it was off to have a bit of a rock in the comfy rocking chair

if they were lucky, they’d sleep right there and wait for you to get home

if his baby was as restless as you, he would sing to them softly and cuddle them in your shared bed in the attic

when you’d get home, you’d find both of them snuggling together on your pillow

[bronxrentals]

Why Rent a Car in Austria? Discover the Untouched Corners

Austria, with its stunning alpine scenery, rich historical sites, and lively cities, is a testament to Europe's allure. While there are various ways to explore this European gem, choosing to rent a car in Austria offers a unique advantage – the freedom to discover its hidden gems.

Although Vienna is undoubtedly enchanting, Austria has much more to offer. Renting a car in Austria is like holding a golden ticket, giving you access to lesser-known destinations and experiences.

Salzburg's History: Known as the birthplace of Mozart and the setting for "The Sound of Music," Salzburg beautifully combines music, history, and architecture. With a rental car in Austria, you can explore the Hohensalzburg Fortress or unwind by the Salzach River at your own pace.

The Alpine Wonders of Tyrol: Home to some of Europe's finest ski resorts and summer hiking trails, Tyrol promises a rendezvous with nature. The panoramic Grossglockner High Alpine Road is a must-drive route.

Innsbruck's Delight: Often overshadowed by its larger counterparts, Innsbruck, with its blend of urban sophistication and mountainous charm, is a traveler’s paradise. The town's Golden Roof, alpine zoo, and nearby Swarovski Crystal Worlds are hidden treasures waiting to be uncovered.

When you rent a car in Austria, the country's alpine landscapes beckon with the promise of unforgettable journeys. The Grossglockner High Alpine Road is not just a road; it's a voyage through Austria's heart, where each twist and turn reveals a new vista, from towering peaks to lush valleys. As you ascend, the sight of Austria's highest mountain, the Grossglockner, stands as a sentinel overlooking the land.

For first-time visitors, the idea of driving in a foreign country can be intimidating. However, Austria's excellent infrastructure ensures a smooth ride. Clear road signs, well-maintained roads, and friendly locals make the driving experience a breeze.

Why Select Bronx Rentals for Your Austrian Adventure? When embarking on an Austrian journey, the choice of the right car rental service can make all the difference. Bronx Rentals simplifies this decision, guaranteeing a seamless and stress-free experience.

Unmatched Convenience and Selection With Bronx, car rental in Austria is not just about getting from one place to another; it's about having options. Unlike other agencies, Bronx Rentals lets you choose a specific car model. This ensures there are no surprises upon arrival; you get exactly what you expect.

Comprehensive Package Bronx Rentals stands out by providing an all-inclusive rental experience. Fees for Austrian highways, navigation tools, border crossings, additional drivers, and unlimited mileage are all included in your package. This comprehensive approach means fewer worries about hidden costs or unexpected fees.

Easy Pickup: Whether you arrive at Vienna Airport or stay at a Vienna hotel, Bronx Rentals can deliver your car right to you. The registration process is quick, taking about 5 minutes, so you can hit the road without delay.

Transparent and Flexible Payment: Booking with Bronx Rentals is straightforward with no upfront booking fees. Even if you don’t have a credit card, Bronx Rentals offers the flexibility of cash payments. Furthermore, full insurance with deposits starting as low as 300 Euros ensures peace of mind, and you can even cover this deposit in cash.

Dedicated Support: Traveling in a foreign country can have its challenges, but with Bronx Rentals, you're never alone. Their dedicated support is with you throughout your trip, ensuring that assistance is just a call or email away, anytime and anywhere.

Check out our blog for more information.

[childrenweb]

The 15 weirdest and strangest works of classical music

Classical music's strangest, craziest and weirdest compositions

John Cage’s famous 4’33�� consists of 273 seconds in which no one does anything at all, yet has enjoyed cult status since its ‘composition’ in 1952. Today, it can be downloaded on iTunes, watched on Youtube and there is even a 4’33” app. Most view it with wry amusement, others (ie men with beards) value it as an important exercise in making us re-think the very concept of music. Whatever, it will always hold a proud place in the list of the strangest music ever written. Cage, of course, was writing in a notably experimental era that produced all sorts of wonderful weirdness, but the boundaries of musical convention have always been there to be tested – composers had been doing daft things for centuries before Cage and co. arrived on the scene. Here, we take a look at 15 pieces of the strangest music, from the engagingly amusing to the downright barmy…What are the strangest pieces of classical music?

1. Heinrich Ignaz Franz von Biber: Battalia

We begin our survey of all things eccentric in the Baroque period. Usually a composer of utmost craft and refinement, Biber went off on something of a tangent with his 1673 Battalia for string orchestra. Depicting life in an army camp, effects galore are employed by the composer to paint the musical picture just as he wanted it. For instance, the section called ‘Die liederliche Gesellschaft von allerley Humor’ has the orchestra playing in eight different keys simultaneously to depict drunkenness, while ‘Mars’ sees the double bass stick a piece of paper beneath the strings to create a rasping sound. It’s an entertaining listen, though quite what Biber’s own audiences would have made of it is anyone’s guess.

2. Johann Georg Albrechtsberger: Concerto for Jews Harp

Nothing much to remark at first about the 1765 Concerto in F major by Johann Georg Albrechtsberger, esteemed Viennese composer, scholar and teacher of Beethoven – a pleasant, if unexceptional orchestral opening is adorned with gentle pluckings on the mandora (a type of lute). But then comes the entry of the other solo instrument. It’s a jew’s harp: basically, a metal spring that one places in front of the mouth and twangs. In the hands of an able player, it can just about be made to produce something vaguely resembling a melody, but no amount of skill, alas, can give it a sound other than ‘boinnnnggggg’. The overall effect? Think of a contented frog leaping from lily to lily, accompanied by a string orchestra. Remarkably, Albrechtsberger wrote not just the one but seven such concertos.

3. Leopold Mozart: Toy Symphony

History popularly depicts Leopold Mozart, father of Wolfgang Amadeus, as something of a po-faced old moose, obsessed by eking every last drop out of his son’s prodigious talent. His Toy Symphony of around 1760, however, hints at a fun-loving side. As well as the normal orchestral forces, there are parts for toy trumpet, ratchet (essentially a football rattle), cuckoo and nightingale (not the birds, clearly, but toy instruments that sound like them…). It’s all a bit of a hoot, and rather charming – so is that why it was initially credited not to Mozart Snr but to the more genial Haydn?

4. György Ligeti: Poème Symphonique

Who needs instruments? Not György Ligeti. The Hungarian’s Poème Symphonique of 1962 – which will be performed in the same concert as Cage’s 4’33” at the Proms this year – simply requires ten players to take to the stage, each in charge of ten wind-up metronomes. All 100 metronomes are wound to their limit, and then set off and allowed to tick away until they have all wound themselves down. In theory, one could also try it out with battery-powered metronomes, though this might mean a performance going on for hours and hours and hours. Talking of which…

[lordhelpme0-0]

Ikemen Vampire OC: Queen Zenobia of Palmyra:

Traditional art will be here until the digital art will come out. The Trung sisters are next~!

Date of birth: September 24, b.c. 240 CE

Zodiac: Libra

Height: 157.6 cm

Occupations: Empress of Palmyra, Regent, Queen, Queen of Palmyra, Warrior

Vampiric type: Pureblood

Ethnicity: Palmyrene, Syrian

Family relations: unknown currently

Names/titles: Julia Aurelius Zenobia, Queen of Palmyra, Queen Zenobia, Empress Zenobia, Queen Mother, Empress, Septimia Zenobia, Bat-Zabbai, Septimia Zenobia Augustus, Julia Aurelius <- outside name, and etc. (she has so many names….)

Personality: Zenobia as of right now, cause she has many names!!! She is a calculating reader. Basically the female swap middle eastern Mitsuhide Akechi (IkeSen), but low key. Definitely enjoys life and spar with anyone. A known conquerer and rebellious at times. Zenobia is a traveler at heart and drinking, sparring, feasting, gossip companion with Định (Nguyễn Thị Định). She is very determined with a checked ego. Definitely will throw hands when someone insult her friends and family. She also very shrewd but no one really noticed it until the very end.

Likes:

Sweets, give her any sweets especially Arabic sweets

Knowledge - anything that has good sense of knowledge

Has a fondness for adder snakes and have three as pets

The three snakes literally scared mozart once

She is a traveler at heart, so postcards is a must with entries like diaries

Pranking just pranking but low key with good nature

Has a weird kinship with Napoleon due to their history

Definitely teases Isaac but low key on an intellectual level

Give her nah type of snakes, she will swoon

Drinking buddy and bring more girls than Arthur

Drinking buddy is Định and is very flirty with the women at the bar

Has definitely enjoy small term relationships

Arthur needs some good tips from Zenobia

Will take to the sky and land at any chance

Does Karaoke with Định but with Arabic live songs

Loves writing small poetry with impactful meaning

Will sometime speak in Latin or Greek to mess with Sebastian

Olga has to keep a constant eye while Ỷ Lan reassure her friend

Dislikes:

Monkeys…just monkeys…she despises them (due to a childhood related trauma)

Just protect her form any of the monkeys and she will definitely fall for you

Ignorant people and not factual statements cause of the not creditable things the Romans have wrote about her

Hates being referred to as Bia…just don’t call her Bia okay??

She hates Salieri to the core, he said something insulting without knowing which offended this Syrian/ palmyrene woman to the bone

He did not have a good three full week

Napoleon kissing habit

He has lost lots of clothes and bedsheets for a day

Zenobia is vengeful and will not hesitate to show it

She got it from granny dearest Olga

Basically a chaotic energetic gremlin on a leash with violent tendencies

TRIVIA!!!:

This is shown in a few of the dislikes and likes

She has beautiful calligraphy that was so good, Dazai asked to be taught about

Napoleon is sorta awkward with Zenobia when she started cursing in Egyptian cause cough cough conquest cough cough

He got over it

Loves to do karaoke and enjoys the water buffaloes presence

Has huge cool aunt energy for the residents

Zenobia hates being called Bia btw unless your close friends and family

She is very flirty and better at picking women

Has insulted a noble before and got away with it

She is so strategic she beat Arthur at any games and won bets upon bets

Definitely has yet to win one with Ỷ Lan sadly

Despite all this, she is cold and calculating when need to be

That this side was brought out by none other than William

Why Will?? Why..?!?! WHAT WAS THE REASONS?!

He did not sleep with a wink after that

Had to keep a sword or torch nearby

Also, SWEETS

No monkeys please!!

Lines:

“Well….well…well~? What do we have here?” I quickly turned around to meet a beautiful Arabic women with hauntingly sapphire blue eyes. Feeling nervous, I stepped back as she smirk while slowly sinking up to me. “It seems the little bird is afraid~?” I gasped quietly as her feature came bewitching, her smirk widen as her siren eyes flutter slowly. Time stopped.

“My~ my, little bird should be careful. You almost fell down~? Fufufu~!” She giggled slyly. I blushed when her grasp tighten around the waist. Her eyes teasing me as a blush crept up my neck. “W-well, it’s not my fault you scared me!” I quickly turned away awfully shy. She laughed wispily as she helped me up.

“Well, *Ya Amar~,” Zenobia purred as she closed in. “It seems the sand is trickling away as we speak. It’s only proper we do one last thing.” Biting my lip, I looked at the Palmyrene queen before me. “Can we…”

*Ya amar <- My Moon

Love route: ???

Storyline plot: <Yes>

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[Yes] [No]

[Yes]

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Tagging cause new hot women: @pieground @a-chaotic-dumbass @spoopy-fish-writes @sange-de-romane @vio-simps-for-purple-characters @evilquartett @evil-quartett

[binniedeactivated]

txt reactions. || 👾👾

as dads... 👨🏻‍🍼

a/n; i’m sorryyy i’ve been in a fluffy mood lately I haven’t posted smut in a while but I promise I will! enjoy this though <3

soobin -

bro, he’s the clueless dad

doesn’t know anything about being a parent. is lazy about preparing to be a dad but he has a few tricks up his sleeve

everything would fluster the hell out of him. when the baby poops, when the baby pees, when they baby pukes, or when the baby cries he’d get surprised about it every single time as if it doesn’t happen

you know those type of dads where everything is literally a learning moment for them? yes, that’s soobin

is a dorky dad

his children will most likely own him, he won’t own his children

type of dad that gets beat up by his toddler kids for absolutely nothing

they walk in and kick him in the shin while he’s cooking

or pull his hair while he’s trying to read to them before bed

feel like his daughter would be the exact replica of him like seriously, would have his his whole entire face and matching dimples

with that being said, is an absolute sucker for his daughter

gives her anything she wants even if she’s a spoiled brat he’s scared to say no

needs his wife to teach him how to put his foot down

i feel like soobin’s son would be wild asf lmao

repeats every inappropriate thing that soobin says

“daddy? what does bullshit mean?”.

will scold his kids if they’re acting too wild but they never listen to him so it doesn’t really matter

again, he needs his wife to help discipline the kids

i know it can be quite common for parents of color (minorities) to hit their children but in my opinion I don’t really think soobin would hit his kids all that much

he  would pay a lot of attention to them though and know them like the back of his hand but he can’t really control the shit that goes on in his wild household

his wife will mainly come home every night to a messy kitchen and messy living room with soobin passed out on the couch and the kids curled on top of him snoring

all in all he loves them though, they’re his babies <3

yeonjun --

honestly, yeonjun is a pretty attentive father

i think he would be veryyyyy playful and affectionate

would want to do EVERYTHING with the baby

want to cook, want to clean, want to watch tv, want to talk to him/her and hold them all the time

has separation anxiety when his children are away from him for too long

even if he’s at work he’ll face time his wife often just so he can see the baby

if he takes his kids to the park he’s literally watching their every move

will still hug and kiss them on their cheeks and forehead no matter how old they get

extremely overprotective

no really, don’t touch yeonjun’s babies unless you want to die

protects his daughter from anyone that tries to date her

i think yeonjun’s son would most likely pick up one of his talents and his daughter will pick up the other

his son can sing and his daughter could dance, vice versa

encourages them to follow their dreams

supports anything and EVERYTHING they

definitely documents everything lmao, even if it’s small he’ll record or take a picture

will make a photo album of all of his children’s achievements

is the type of dad that’s always talking about his kids

literally fr--he mentions them in every conversation

he’s just a proud dad alright? don’t judge him

i think yeonjun’s children would be extremely well behaved and well kept 

mostly because yeonjun doesn’t play around LMAO

nah fr, he’s a dad that knows how to scold and punish. his kids know better than to cross him

gives his kids anything they want

takes them on vacations allllll the time 

universal studios, disney world, legoland, you name it and he already booked the trip

honestly the type of dad that’s always somewhere having fun with his kids and posting photos on social media

is IN LOVE with being a dad

beomgyu --

lmao beomie is the cool dad

literally will talk to his baby like he/she is grown 

“i’m tired of this show. you want to watch netflix? big mouth has a new episode”.

“can you stop crying? that’s weird. all you did was pee. you’re acting you’re a baby or something”.

“why don’t you just use words? tell me when you’re hungry. stop acting like you can’t talk”. (his baby is literally 2 months old)

loves sleeping with his babies the most. loves when they cuddle with him in bed and just fall asleep in his arms and on his chest

plays with them all the time, chasing them around the house playing laser tag or ‘the floor is lava’ lmao

loves playing video games with them, doesn’t let them win just because they’re young

will literally beat them in every game with no remorse, he just tells them they have to learn how to beat him

when they’re older he’ll literally let them do whatever they want 

“dad can I go to a party?”.  “sure whatever”.

“dad I’m going to a club with my friends”.  “alright. be safe”.

“dad I think I’m pregnant”.   “damn how that happen? I hope your baby’s father isn’t ugly tbh”.

is the type of dad that will lie to his wife about their children’s bad grades to save their asses

always sugar coats the parent teacher conferences to his wife, telling her that they’re the star students (even if they’re bad as hell)

laughs when one of his kids curse

teaches them the cheat codes to getting what they want in life

his kids ADORE him lmfao

is the most understanding and caring dad there is

taehyun --

strict dad who is a good listener lmao

i think taehyun would be more prepared when he knows he’s about to be a parent. of course he knows he doesn’t know everything but this man would be so prepared lmao

literally would do research on different things just to try and get a better understanding of how children’s minds work

his kids would be baby geniuses please

his daughter would be playing mozart on the piano at the age of two

his son would be a mathematician at four

LMAO i feel like his kids would be smart and mean ASF

literally the bougie kids at school with the latest clothes and shoes and don’t want to associate with the dumber kids

spoiled ROTTEN by taehyun will literally call him for the smallest inconvenience

“dad can you put more money on my credit card? I’m feeling sad today”

“dad I need a spa day”.

and yes taehyun will do these things for them at the drop of a dime

i feel like he’s the type of dad that knows everything, literally can’t outsmart him

if one of his children lies he already knows that they’re lying and already has evidence to prove it

I don’t think any of his children would ever lie to him though lmao taehyun don’t play that shit

type of dad that will allow his spoiled ass kids to live in his house for as long as they want without requiring them to move out

absolutely weak for them

will set up bank accounts and college funds for them

literally does EVERYTHING for them i cannot stress this ENOUGH

will buy their first apartment if they want it

will buy them their first cars

taehyun’s kids : part time job? what’s that?

type of dad that his kids can talk about anything and everything with and they love him for it

can be a crackhead dad too, will do the craziest shit to make his kids laugh

his kids are his world <3

kai --

lmfao i feel like kai is the fine line between being prepared and not knowing what the fuck to do every second

literally needs his wife because he’ll get anxiety trying to make big decisions for them

i think he would be at his prime parenting during the toddler stage since he has a lot of energy. he would bring his kids to trampoline parks and bounce house places allllll the time

his kids’ fondest childhood memories would be somewhere in a bounce house jumping and having fun with their dad

would also love turning on a soft playlist and have coloring sessions with them

is the type to make his kids dress like him, oversized sweaters, baggy jeans and cute sneakers

would buy his kids matching outfits and toys

also would be big on accessories i think. would love buying them cute backpacks, lunchboxes, and pens and pencils lmao

i think kai’s children would be chaotic as helllllllllllll

extremely hyperactive and don’t know the concept of bedtime

has frequent food fights in the kitchen

whenever they take a bath they get suds all over the floor

they eat and nap in the kitchen cabinets even though kai specifically told them not to do that

kids would be EXTREMELY cute so it would always be hard for kai to scold them

his version of scolding is literally, “hey don’t do that”. will never yell or hit

can never find a babysitter for when him and his wife have date nights because his children are always on a rampage

and when they do have do have date nights his children always find a way to facetime him fifteen hundred times about nothing

i think out of all kids, kai’s kids would be the baddest ones in school just because of the contrast lmfaoo

his son draws curse words on his desk

his daughter gets into fights all the time

parent teacher conferences are the funniest because kai is smiling no matter how bad the teacher says his kids are

literally cannot control them LMAO

but they’re so funny and sweet to him he can’t help but become weak for them

when they’re older though I feel like they’ll mellow out only a little but still kinda rebellious 

kai is a positive dad who tries his absolute best lmao but he loves them with all his heart <3

[h2bakugou]

Heh bitchhhhh 🥴🥴🥴, can i request a bakugo x reader. The reader has a showstopper quirk were they can make people break out into song and dance and when kidnapped by the league they force them to preform “ive got a dream” from tangled. P.s play bloxburg with me 🥺👉🏼👈🏼

a/n: heyyyy bitchhhh, lmfao yes, thank you for drafting this idea to me in my bedroom, and we can play bloxburg soon. i had so much fun writing this omg, 

the song is from tangled so credit to tangled for most of the dialogue/song!

summary: upon running into the league of villains, you and bakugou decide it’s best to just try and get away instead of staying and fighting, but your quirk is going to affect all in the area.

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / showstopper - your quirk

warnings: swearing, fluff, angst, this is a certified crackfic brought to you by my sister’s amazing brain.

wordcount: 1.7k

»»————-　★　————-««

»»————-　★　————-««

It’s a pretty average day, nothing crazy happening. for a grade in class, you’ve been assigned to patrol near campus.

And you were paired with none other than your crush, Bakugou.

The tension between the two of you was palpable, but it was a battle between knowing if Bakugou was aware of your quirk or not. You were worried.

As the tension settled, thickening with every passing second, every breath feeling harder to push out than the last, Bakugou was tired of the silence.

“Oi! Say something.” Bakugou’s harsh voice cut through the silence like a knife. It was unexpected, and it startled you. You looked over at him and cracked a smile.

“Sorry! I’m just thinking, what exactly are we looking for on this patrol?” You ask, deciding it was best to not worry if he knew about your quirk or not, he was in your class, surely he had to know.

“It’s a patrol. We’re not looking for something specific dumbass. We’re looking for anything out of the ordinary.” Bakugou’s words weren’t meant to hurt you, in fact, Bakugou began to think about if what he had said had been to harsh.

He’d been suffocating the feelings of a crush toward you for a while, and this patrol with one another didn’t help. Kirishima nor Kaminari were here to keep him grounded, he was going to be a mess.

A few screams caught your attention. Darting over to the noise, a lady was running away from an alley. Glancing at Bakugou, the two of you rushed in, not expecting what you saw.

The light from an open door illuminated a portion of the alley at the end, the rest shadowed in darkness from the buildings looming above.

Stepping into the lit room, the door was harshly shut and locked behind you, your eyes focusing on none other than the League of Villains.

“Shit.” You cursed, staring at the group of rag-tag villains with dangerous abilities.

“Well isn’t this ironic.” Tomura Shigaraki trotted over, standing oddly, almost hunched over as he scratched at the side of his neck.

“That can’t be healthy.” You whispered, cringing at the unnerving sound of his fingernails scratching against his raw skin.

“Die!-”

“Bakugou wait!” You pulled him back from lunging at the group, taking a step back away from them.

“We gotta stop them! What are you doing?” Bakugou yelled, glaring at you.

“Do you really think we can stop all of them at once? That’s suicide! Think dumbass!” You hit the top of his head lightly with a fist and groaned.

“That’s my line!” Bakugou grunted, looking back at the league. Shigaraki stood up straight and sighed, flexing his hand.

“What ideas do you have?” Bakugou hated asking the question, but he couldn’t use his. He’d cause to much damage, and structural damage to the bottom floor would cause the building to collapse.

“I have one but-”

“Then use it!”

“I can’t! My quirk it’ll-” You knew this was going to happen.

“I’m getting tired of your bickering. Dabi-”

“Use your quirk and stop wasting time!” Bakugou shakes you, gripping your shoulders harshly. It hurt but you activated your quirk and all the lights went out.

A single light shone down and Shigaraki stepped forward. He wasn’t moving on his own accord, and everyone was just watching as you raised your hands, seemingly controlling him like a puppet.

As music began to play, Shigaraki began to sing.

“I’m malicious, mean, and scary. My sneer could curdle dairy. And violence wise, my hands are not the cleanest.” Shigaraki’s eyes were wide, still conscious of everything that was happening, he was unhappy with the events unfolding.

The rest of the league sat immobile as they watched the scene unfold, Dabi trying to hold back a laugh, Kurogiri being ultimately curious, and Toga happy as can be.

“But despite my evil look, and my temper, and my hook, I’ve always yearned to be a concert pianist.” Shigaraki was moved over to where a piano sat, coincidentally still in pretty okay shape. Guess hiding out in yet another bar had its perks.

“Can’tcha see me on the stage performin’ Mozart? Tickilin’ the ivories ‘til they gleam. Yep, I’d rather be called deadly, for my killer show-tune medley, thank you! ‘Cause way down deep inside I’ve got a dream!” Shigaraki’s fingers danced across the keys, always having one on each hand raised as to not decay the entire piano.

It was you controlling him playing, not him at all. Shigaraki had never touched a piano in his life, yet it was very interesting to seemingly be able to play it perfectly.

“He’s got a dream! He’s got a dream!” The rest of the league joined in, singing along with him.

“See I ain’t as cruel and vicious as I seem! Though I do like breaking femurs, you can count me with the dreamers Like everybody else, I’ve got a dream!” Shigaraki ended his verse off with a groovy riff on the keys, the spotlight jumping over to Dabi.

“I’ve got scars, and lumps, and bruises. Plus something here that oozes. And let’s not even mention my complexion.” Dabi stepped forward, his hands pointing out parts on his body.

“But despite my extra toes, and my goiter, and my nose, I really wanna make a love connection.” Dabi’s eyes widened as he sang the words, your fingers wiggling around, controlling his movements.

“Can’t you see me with a special little lady, rowin’ in a rowboat down the stream?” Dabi sat on a stool and mimicked rowing in a boat, continuing his verse.

“Though I’m one disgusting blighter, I’m a lover, not a fighter! ‘Cause way down deep inside I’ve got a dream!” Dabi jumped up form his stool and stood in the middle of the room.

“He’s got a dream!” The league sang.

"I’ve got a dream!” Dabi continued.

“He’s got a dream!”

“And I know one day romance will reign supreme! Though my face leaves people screaming, there’s a child behind it, dreaming. Like everybody else, I’ve got a dream!” Dabi danced his way over to Shigaraki.

“Magne would like to quit and be a florist!”

“Kurogiri does interior design.”

“Twice is into mime, Toga’s cupcakes are sublime!”

“Mr. Compress knits.”

“Giran sews.”

“Muscular does little puppet shows!”

“And Spinner collects ceramic unicorns~!” 

"What about you?” Shigaraki steps toward Bakugou who’s eyes widen in surprise as they quickly dart to you and then back to Shigaraki.

You were controlling everyone, the only downside to your quirk, is everyone in the area is affected. You control those in the room, even Bakugou. You just hoped he wasn’t going to hate you after this.

“I’m sorry me?” Bakugou asks, staring at Shigaraki. Dabi steps forward too.

“What’s your dream?” Dabi asks, pulling him into the center of the room where the spotlight shone.

“No, no no, sorry boys, I don’t sing.” Bakugou replied coolly. You stifled a laugh as he stared at you.

The league glared at him as the music kicked up again.

“I have dreams like you, no really! Just much less, touchy-feely. They mainly happen somewhere warm and sunny!” Bakugou began to sing, dancing around the bar.

“On an island that I own, tanned, and rested, and alone, surrounded by enormous piles of money!” Bakugou laid on the bar counter, propped up on his side as he pretended to relax on a beach.

“I’ve got a dream!”

“I’ve got a dream!” The rest of the league joined back in singing, while you pulled Bakugou off the counter, still controlling the others. You had to get out of here while they were still distracted. The song was almost over.

“She’s got a dream, he’s got a dream, they’ve got a dream, we’ve got a dream!” The league sang together.

“So our diff’rences ain’t really that extreme!”

“Call us brutal!” Shigaraki started.

“Sick.” Dabi added.

“Sadistic!” Twice and Toga sang harmoniously.

"And grotesquely optimistic.” Kurogiri sang, his voice was surprisingly really good.

“‘Cause way down deep inside, we’ve got a dream!” The league was singing together again.

You pulled Bakugou out of the bar and helped him down the alley as the two of you ran away, heading back toward the campus to let the heroes know.

“I’ve got a dream!” Shigaraki started again.

“I’ve got a dream!” Dabi was next.

“I’ve got a dream!”

“I’ve got a dream!”

“I’ve got a dream!” Kurogiri, Compress and Twice joined in.

“I’ve got a dream!” Toga smiled as she joined in. She was having a blast.

“Yes, way down deep inside I’ve got a dream!” They all joined in for the last line as the music faded out.

The lights returned to normal and everyone was able to move on their own.

“What the fuck!” Shigaraki cursed, shaking his body out as a chill raced through him.

“That was horrible!” Dabi groaned, staring at Shigaraki.

“I didn’t know you could play the piano!” Toga rushed over to Shigaraki.

“I can’t.” Shigaraki glared at the blonde girl.

“And who knew Kurogiri could sing so well!” Twice laughed.

“Never speak of this to anyone.” Shigaraki groaned, taking a breath from the entire show.

- - -

“Why’d you make me sing?!” Bakugou groaned as he held your hand, pulling you into the main campus building.

“My quirk affects everyone in the area. I didn’t have much of a choice. You had to do something or it would’ve messed up.” You sighed.

“Whatever. I guess it wasn’t so bad.” 

“You have a nice voice.” You compliment him. Bakugou’s cheeks twinge red as he thinks about what you just said.

“It was kind of funny to see them all sing and dance like that huh?” You question, gripping his hand a bit softer, your own face heating up as he runs his thumb across the back of your hand.

“It was something alright. Let’s just get this dealt with. And don’t you dare tell anyone about this!” Bakugou stops, pulling you into him.

“I won’t, I promise!” You smile, looking into his crimson eyes.

“Good.” Bakugou’s eyes flick down to your lips and then back up to your eyes.

He pulls you in for a quick kiss, his lips locking onto yours for a few seconds before pulling away.

“Or that.” He pouts, huffing his cheeks as he returns to walking, leaving you stunned as you slowly catch up, excitement bubbling inside you.

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

[yakocchi]

Tonight, Love Me Kindly and Cruelly (Collection Event) // Count

t/n: The idiom is literally “Candy and Whip”, which is equivalent to the use of “Carrots and Sticks”. “Carrots and Sticks”, as in the idiom that people use to describe when one uses both the promise of a benefit and a punishment to manipulate someone to do something. random ex: a person says that if you let them stay at your house for a while, they’ll buy you a new phone... but if you reject them, they say they’re going to set your car on fire. well carrots and sticks don’t make for a pretty mental image so I changed it. lol

In common ikevam fashion, this is a collection event to coincide with the release of Faust’s Main Route. imo the route is doing a better job at showing his chara positively than Will’s route, but..... faust was never my type to begin with so u know LOL but im only on like chapter 12-ish anyway so yea nothing really significant has happened

anyway, i am pleasantly surprised that the Count got to partake in this one!! it might seem like a really long time since the last Count appearance under the context of this blog, but that’s only really bc ive sat out on covering Count-involved events (namely the AU scenario event w/ a shared route with Leo and the “caring for a child” collection event). i don’t think they’re super bad or anything (i actually like the latter for treading newer ground on event topics for once)…. im just chillin. ive never been a very active blog regardless 

Spoilers under the cut!! Please credit if you take any of it, thenk u (･ω･*)

…

[Kara]: “ah-… Mn-…” In one of the rooms of the party venue— the air was stained obscenely by the breathless sighs of me and Count. With my arms pinned against the rippled sheets, my head grew lightheaded as he roughly kissed me over and over again. [Kara]: “nh- Why are…”

(Why has the Count become like this, I wonder? Until a little while ago, he was sweet and gentlemanly.)

Bewildered, I stared back at his golden irises, and a smile faintly seeped through his lips…

[Count]: “When I thought about you possibly being touched by those fingers, my blood ran cold. You do not mean to say that you do not understand my own feelings, I presume?” (‘Those fingers’…?)

…

I recalled something that had happened a few moments ago at the high society party we had been attending. I was conversing with one of the Count’s acquaintances when it happened:

[Gentleman]: “Oh, My Lady— Your exquisite ornament has shifted out of place, you know.” (Huh…?) Before I could fix it myself, the gentleman reached out his hand—

[Count]: “Indeed.” The Count, who had been standing next to me, hugged my shoulder with his arm as if to move me away from that hand. Then— [Count]: “How about this? Mhm, yes… Beautiful.” [Kara]: “Thank you, Count.” Of course, I also gave my thanks to the one who initially noticed it, but…

…

(Does he mean that time?) [Count]: “By the look on your face, it seems that you have finally realized it.” [Kara]: “Ah-…” Something resembling both sensuality and sharpness flashed within his eyes, and he firmly ripped the hair ornament off with a single swipe.

[Count]: “Well, then. I shall retrain this body— that the only thing that may touch you, are my fingers.” His fingertips trailed down my lips, my neck, my collarbones… before pulling down my dress, the fabric sliding off my breasts. Then, those very fingers touched the reddened peaks…

[Kara]: “-ngh, hah…. nh, ah-“ [Count]: “Do you make this same adorable reaction no matter who pinches you?” He pinched more forcefully, and my body leapt with a shudder. [Kara]: “ah-…! N-No, not, at all… Abel, please…” [Count]: “Really? I still have my doubts, given that your body so easily makes these dirty reactions...” While he played with my breasts, the fingertips of his other hand then slid inside the soaked part of me with a wet sound. [Kara]: “ahn… ngh, haah…”

[Count]: “I shall thoroughly train you, that the only thing that can bring you to ecstasy are these fingers. …And train you, all night.”

And just as he had proclaimed, indecent cries continued to fall from my lips throughout the night.

FIN

me thinking abt how this could’ve been the start to a veri sexi epilogue of a scenario event. next time, next time!!

this was kind of interesting bc the event actually places this one above leo’s (leo is the story before, which puts him at “4th place” out of 7 if we call arthur “1st”). this is weird bc even tho occasionally they’ll mess with story order not coinciding with character popularity if they feel that the story in question is more ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), but putting leo’s story that early is rly weird. leo’s story being given before even mozart is like…. wow someone’s not too proud of that story LOL ill be honest tho…. the leo story is pretty basic, past stories in the leo sexi man canon considered. well i get it – leo is not the type to take out his negative emotions onto others, which is more or less related to the theme of this event.

this collection event is only a week long, so im wondering if they have anything interesting lined up. man i hope so…… clearly they kno ppl who like the count exist bc they bothered to move his story up. but where’s the respect!! (jk… partly)

“You really do get a lovely look on your face when you’re with the other manse residents. …I am, just a touch, jealous. Tonight, let me have you all to myself.”

“(…) …I want you to like me very, very much, so I work hard to achieve that. Though it may appear otherwise, I’m desperate (to have such).” – Artbook-based Gacha Card

as always, thanks for reading!

[dealwithwarlords]

Ikemen Vampire and their Godly parents

Inspired by Percy Jackson.

Mozart: Apollo

Son of the God of light, of sun, of music, of truth, of poetry, and arts. May not be a leader but set trends. I will start with the most obvious fact and that is Mozart’s talent for music, as all of us know Apollo’s children are exceptional for the arts in general. Mozart is not someone that tends to laugh frequently but as a good children of Apollo, you can hear the sound of what it could be beautiful Bells when he does, and a smile as warm as the sun. Because of his prolonged time on practicing he sometimes has little to none sunlight, that makes him really moody (more than he already is) so taking some walks or playing with Schelm in the garden are necessary for his health even if he claims to not need it.

Not all of Apollo’s children are blond, some of them have physical traits that are related to the sun such as freckles, warm skin subtones, and even if their hair is black if you see it in the sun light you can see a golden or brownish reflection on their hair, in Mozart’s case if we see carefully there’s also warm subtones such as beige, and pink :

While other white haired characters have cold undertones like blue:

Because of Mozart’s incredible fair skin it’s easy for him to get freckles. Apollo’s children are lie detectors, as they say, you cannot cover the sun with your thumb, Mozart knows from miles away when someone is lying.

Apollo’s children are scary when they get mad, be aware of what they could do when they lose control, just like Mozart, it may seem like he’s always angry but he actually isn’t, when he’s angry you will know.

Apollo’s kids are naturally over dramatic, they turn everything into inspiration for music, plays, etc. remember that time when Mozart said that dry things like cookies are his “worst enemy”? Just because Marie Antoinette gave him a bunch of them, he didn’t know what to do and decided it was a good idea to stuff everything in his mouth...

To what MC finished laughing because ... bruh 😂

Isaac: Athena

Goddess of wisdom, handicraft, knowledge and warfare. Children of Athena are gifted with a sharp and brilliant mind. Do I have to say more ? Isaac is a genius, he has an incredible hunger for knowledge, and curiosity that makes him discover the most incredible things in this world. Children of Athena enjoy reading a good book and most of the time you can see them lost in their thoughts.

We know that Athena’s children can be street smart and book smart, the majority likes to be street smart since they already have a facility to keep info from books, but in the case of our apple boy he’s chosen to be book smart, this kind of children tend to have difficulties to relate to others and create deep bonds since their brilliant minds make them feel detached from the world that surrounds them.

Napoleon : Zeus

Charismatic

Natural leaders

Children of Zeus are the leaders struggling with the pressure of being leaders. Since they are such a reliable people, their friends usually seek for them when they need help, maybe they are not as wise as a child of Athena, but their empathy makes them good advisers too. They’re strong and resilient.

Serious but yet humorous

Assertive

Children of Zeus are prideful, they like to tease others but when the tables turn they don’t really know how to react (not like they are doormats but more like in a teasing way something like pikachu face: “you ... you just teased the son of the lightening.. right in front of my salad” that kind of reaction. It’s actually kind of cute 😂

They can be flighty or warm, depends of the person they are dealing with and their mood.

Physically traits could be grey, blue or in some cases green eyes. Children of Zeus usually have gray hairs since a young age.

Arthur: Dionysus

God of wine, madness, ecstasy and theatre

Children of Dionysus are sociable, charismatic and the life of the party. The ones with all the connections. They’re the friend that everyone references when they say ‘I know a guy’ and we all know that Arthur knows or at least recognizes a lot of faces in Paris.

Children of Dionysus are not only party people, they are really clever too, people usually don’t give them credit for how smart they really are, but they prefer to keep that intelligence hidden ‘cause they don’t want to intimidate anyone, after all the party needs to continue !

They are the ones you can always count on to have a good time. The best telling jokes and reading the atmosphere of a room. they are the ones you call when you’re upset and just want to forget about reality for a night.

Stubborn, determined and chaotic nature.

Most of Dionysus children are empaths, that’s how they can feel the mood so well and make everyone have a good time, nevertheless if they don’t have a control over this ability it can be bad for their health, appropriating other people's problems or feeling guilty if they cannot help their friends as a good “host” would do.

Another thing, Arthur really seems to enjoy alcoholic beverages such as beer, wine, etc. besides coffee.

Talking about physical traits Dionysus children rock semi long hair, this chill and laid back appearance is the signature of the god of party and wine. Even when they wear formal clothes you can see this relaxed look on them.

I remember one time I read a post where it said that Dionysus children often have the nicest shoes in the room (idk why? 😂) BUT DUDE that’s true, there was also other post where you guys were talking about who had the best taste in shoes and guess who was one of the best fashionistas 👌👌😂

Also, olive undertones, in hair, skin, etc. if we see Arthur’s hair for example, sometimes it doesn’t appear to be entirely blue, it also has olive undertones:

Jean: Hades

God of the underworld

Talking about children of hades we can see that they are not only the “quiet ones” but also people with a sharp intuition. They observe everything and everyone, quietly. Tend to hold grudges and feel out of place, they stay a lot of time inside their heads and because of this children of hades usually have a hard time finding their “meaning in life” or “their place in this world”. Since they are deep they have a difficult time relating to others, meanwhile everyone is talking about the trends of the year, children of Hades are in other Chanel .

They like to be by their own, or maybe with someone that actually understands them.

I think most of the time people only focus on their “dark personality” and forget to appreciate other traits like the incredible willpower that they have to achieve anything that attracts their attention.

Physically talking, as we all know, children of Hades have dark tones in their hair, eyes and skin tone. There’s something cold in their appearance that makes them look intimidating and mysterious

Vincent : Apollo

Do I really need to explain this one ? 😂😂

I will just cover some facts that relate to Apollo’s children since Vincent is like the PERFECT example of what is being an Apollo’s child.

I think Vincent has a BIG potential to learn any instrument that he likes, also archery but I doubt it since he wouldn’t like to hurt anyone.

Is easy for Children of Apollo to tan, just imagine our angel with a beautiful sexy tan 🙌🏻😫✨

EMBODIMENT OF LIGHT

also, Apollo’s children are healers, and Vincent wants not only to help but if possible heal everyone’s suffer, as we can see in his route, he wants to help MC with her anxiety to return to her time nevertheless he’s never too pushy and waits until MC feels prepared to open up to him.

Apollo’s children are people pleasers, in a mini drama, Vicent tells Leonardo that if there was a girl in the mansion he wouldn’t know how to behave, since he only wants to give a good impression.

Leonardo : Hephaestus

Children of Hephaestus , Their minds are constantly working on something and their ideas running wild.

They have SO many ideas that they have dozens of project running AT THE SAME TIME, they can even compete with children of Athena.

Some of this children may not be geniuses but out of their curiosity and hunger for knowledge is because they can become worthy opponents to the other god or goddesses children.

Masters on none, but master of many.

They also got that freaking cheeky smile of their father.

Intelligent, good looking and good jokes.

Physically talking children of Hephaestus have strength in their upper body, just like their father, they have enough strength in their hands, arms and back to carry or forge any metal and turn it into a weapon (or any creation but you get me) what usually makes them have (on males) big shoulders or backs and in females, they have shorter but stronger fingers.

Comte : Aphrodite

Who was the one that fell in love in the middle of war ????

YUP this guy ☝️

Children of Aphrodite are hopeless romantic, they find beauty and love in the darkest places and times. They are the ones that you go for advice (not the kind of advice you would go to Athena, but one that helps your heart to find a solution).

They like luxury and aesthetic stuff, Comte with all the money that he has could be living his life like Leo, relaxing, giving little attention to appearances, etc. BUT NO

DADDY COMTE NEEDS TO WEAR HIS DIOR PAJAMAS AND RELAX IN A ROMAN BATH THANK YOU. It’s not like he’s superficial, but he just likes to pamper himself.

Children of Aphrodite have charm speak, Idk you but every time Comte speaks is like velvet for my ears. Most of the time people only see Aphrodite’s children as superficial, not so intelligent and unnecessary at battle but they are dead wrong, actually they are really observant and can be manipulative since they understand and almost feel others people emotions and intentions.

Even though their mother is the Goddess of Love, they can hide their emotions pretty well

It is known that Aphrodite’s children can speak fluently French and Oh look at that Comte is French, coincidence ? I DONT THINK SO.

Theo: Ares

God of war

Children of Ares are topically seen as this really short-tempered guy /girl but there’s more about them. I’m gonna start with the basic personality traits, Children of Ares are stubborn as hell, does it reminds you of Theo ? 😅 they are also really protective of those they love, it may not appear like it but they don’t like injustice, so when they see someone that’s being a jerk they fight with everything they got, sometimes they exaggerate tho.

HATES GOSSIP they like to say thing straight to the point and don’t have filter, sometimes they may seem rude but they are just saying the truth

Doesn’t take shit from anyone

Determinant and never gives up, they also give (its rare but they do) advices when they see you really struggling with something, an example of this could be when (in Leo’s route) MC had a hard time deciding what to choose between staying in 19th century France or coming back to her time with Leo, to what Theo noticed her struggling and gave her a brief but nice advice.

HARD ON THE OUTSIDE SOFT ON THE INSIDE

Children of Ares are aware that they intimidate their siblings, that’s why they become silent and prefer to stay in their cabin, but if you want them to open up to you, a nice smile and kind personality would be a great combo to go with them.

Children of Ares are really intelligent, after all their father is also a strategist.

Shakespeare: Hades

Again ... do I have to explain this one ? 😂

Shakespeare is deep af. Children of Hades see the deepest and darkest things in life, that’s why they tend to feel depressed, but because of that they also can see the brightest parts. This contrast usually is embodied in an artistic way, it may be in plays, dancing, singing, stories, etc.

The goth friend

Children of Hades are one of the kindest siblings among all God and Goddesses out there since they know what loneliness feels like.

guess who feels like that ? YUP Will does

they like to be alone but not lonely.

Dazai: Dionysus

Dionysus was known to be a Reckless, crazy god that resembled freedom and fun. Children of Dionysus are usually found smiling for ... no specific reason, some could say is even scary or suspicious, like if they were drunk 😅.

Dionysus has parties where everyone dances and can fall into madness and ecstasy. Dazai is a sensual man, he has this aura that is just so appealing and comfortable to be with, but he is still a mystery, just like his father. Dyonisus was a god that usually doesn’t get in other’s people problems but it is known that he has a lot of powers, and the majority remains a mystery to humans.

Dazai is someone that craves to feel and be loved, but is scared to be rejected for who he really is, instead of that he prefers to show the “clown facade” that everyone likes, after all is easier to have “company” in a party full of people that you don’t know but they don’t really care about you than opening up to someone and being vulnerable.

People usually describe children of Dionysus as “crazy”

They are normally underestimated, but they have an incredible ability for the arts, they create the most crazy yet deep monologues.

These people tend to get obsessed over things they like, this is somewhat bad for them since they can get addicted to things like alcohol, tobacco, etc.

Talking about physical traits, Dazai is like the perfect definition of a Dionysus child, chill appearance, medium long hair, PURPLE HAIR, likes (maybe a little too much) alcohol, smooth voice.

Sebastian : Demeter

Goddess of agriculture, fertility, nature, and seasons.

Children of Deméter have this motherly figure in their group of friends.

Natural protectors.

Great cooks

They can be really strict at scolding their friends, family etc. but they just want the best for their loved ones.

Children of Deméter aren’t really aggressive, but don’t get in their wrong side which would be trying to hurt their family, because they go havoc.

They have an amazing intuition, just like a good mother.

Their personalities are calm and collected, they may panic on the inside when something bad happens but never let it show.

Deméter children are so aware of the details they are the ones that give the best gifts since they know deeply their loved ones, what they like and what they don’t, again, like a good mother.

Faust: Hecate

Goddess of magic, witchcraft, ghosts, necromancy and crossroads.

Children of Hecate are really intelligent and have an amazing memory, after all they have to memorize dozens of spells.

They usually have lots of books, since they have to know the functionality and sources of the magic they are using.

CU RI O US

They may appear frightening since they face and aesthetic aren’t really welcoming sometimes, but they are actually pretty nice.

SNAKE PERSONALITY

cunning and ambitious

Children of Hecate know how to handle necromancy, which makes them closer to death, that’s why talking about this kind of topics doesn’t scare them.

Children of Hecate can be obsessive, they can stay all day and all night practicing their witchcraft, PLS SOMEONE TAKE THEM OUT OF THEIR ROOM.

They have a different type of aesthetic, maybe is not totally GOTH but there’s something religious or spiritual there, they believe that there is a superior power in the world.

Incredibly good teachers. They may not be as charismatic as Apollo kids, but they are patient and good listeners.

Calm but can be sadists too so be careful.

Vlad : Nemesis

Children of Nemesis, as their mother, tend to hold grudges and is really difficult for them to forget those who wrong them.

They can go ExTrEMe lengths in their revenge, elaborate plans that doesn’t matter how much time they take, they will do it.

Maybe scarier than Children of Ares.

Yandere personality who ?

They are really observant and intelligent, they have the ability to find Achilles ankle of any of their enemies.

Manipulative, that gives them the ability to awake rage on the ones they want like allies.

Curiously children of Nemesis have a strong sense of justice and balance, and they will do anything to carry on with their ideals, even if that means taking extreme measures.

Physically talking there’s always red on them, and I’m talking about red hair, liking for red color, and oh ! Look at that, who has red eyes ??

Charles : Tyche

Goddess of chance, fate and fortune.

I really had a hard time deciding for this one, and I don’t know a lot about him but from what I’ve seen I can say he’s a Tyche’s child.

Children of Tyche are extremely friendly and enthusiastic.

J O K E S

very hyperactive

Smarter than they look, observant and empaths, also they like to prank people like a pixie would do.

Pretty smiles, and they giggle like a lot.

Usually green eyes.

Obviously they like to gamble or if the other participants doesn’t like to, Children of Tyche conform with just playing

They love nature and animals.

A kid in an adult body

Don’t let their cute smiles, dimples or freckles fool you, they can be manipulative.

Idk why but I imagine Tyche kids with fairy like features, maybe that’s why lots of them have a short height.

[the-avengers-ate-my-tongue]

The Storm

Summary: You work with Jack Crawford and Alana is your cousin, both of you live together for a long time. She gets caught up with a flat tire far away and asks you to let Will in, for he's expecting her. A storm is coming, and she keeps taking longer and longer to show up. Will the universe conspire in your favor?

Pairing: Will Graham x reader

Warnings: swearing, insinuation of smut, fluff.

Word count: 4.328

A/n: I'm starting to consider changing this tumblr for a Hannibal one, mostly Will Graham, so some requests from other fandoms would be nice haha hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing ♥️

*not my gif

There wasn't a thing such as a boring day at the BAU. 

At least not when you're part of Jack Crawford's crew. There was always an interesting case to focus on, a disfigured body to study the reason of death, it was always a thrilling hunt for evidence. The best experience I've ever had so far in my career, and I could only thank my cousin Alana for putting me on the Guru's radar. I was a great crime scene investigator, albeit a little younger than people gave me credit for. I taught people not to underestimate me over the years, though. I got here by my own effort, being a tenacious, hard-working woman who wouldn't get a no for an answer. 

I got along well with my crewmates, Beverly Katz, Brian Zeller and Jimmy Price, though our relationship hardly extended for life outside work. Except for Beverly, we went out for a couple of beers sometimes, she was fun, witty and I really liked our conversations. Jack was the big boss, and that was it. I had a lot of respect for him, and I knew he didn't regret bringing me to his team, I could see it in his eyes in the first case I've got. I was very cunning when I shared my insights about the cases, sometimes I saw things no one else could, no one but…

Of course, I was far, far away from being a Will Graham. But ever since I was younger, I've had this sort of intuition that helped me to solve problems, I would solve riddles easily and when people asked me how I got to the answer, I wouldn't know the steps, I just knew deep in my bones I was right. That happened a lot when I was growing up and was even stronger now that I knew how to use it. It was some artifice of my inconscient, something I could always count on. It included everything in my life, math, logical thinking, riddles. My brain picked things I couldn't perceive clearly, bringing them to the clear waters of my conscience. 

Will Graham was a curious man. He intrigued me from the very first moment I saw him at the house of one of the last victims of The Minnesota Shrike, Garret Jacob Hobbs, now dead. He was practically hiding in a corner, his eyes closed behind the lens of his glasses, dark wavy hair, jawline for days. He seemed highly focused until Beverly started to talk to him, pulling him out of his daze. He could barely look at her, or at me, and although he looked socially awkward and troubled, he still managed to look like a daydream. I studied every inch of his face, lowering my gaze when he seemed to get uncomfortable, after smiling lightly. I was a bit shy myself. I lived with Alana and, when I got home that night, I absentmindedly asked her about that curious handsome man who seemed to be out of place, yet so connected to that scene. She started to talk about him, but stopped once she noticed my interest. Then, she told me he was a very unstable person, that she wouldn't even be alone in the room with him because of her professional curiosity. As time passed and he solved more and more cases, I could see how people looked at him like an attraction of the zoo. However, not me, and later, not Beverly. Brian didn't seem to like him very much, I could see. Envy, perhaps? Nevertheless, the more I saw Will, the more intrigued I got. He avoided eye contact like the plague, but as I was always friendly and tried my best to treat him like a normal person, not focusing only on work, dead bodies and serial killers, I saw more of those beautiful blue eyes. He knew I was Alana's cousin, and I sooner realized he had a fling for her. 

And boy, did that break my silly little heart. I wasn't surprised, though. Who could blame him? Alana was amazing. I never felt resentful for that, but as time passed, I started to detach from the idea of Will being somewhat more than a simple acquaintance. That afternoon, I was going home from work when I got a call from Alana.

"Speak fast, I'm driving." I said, keeping one hand on the wheel and the other holding my phone.

"You're going home? Great. I invited Will so we could talk about a profile I'm building, but I got caught up here. I already spoke to him, he's almost there, can you let him in? He said he'll wait, and I'll be home in about fifty minutes, no more than that, hopefully." She said in a hurry, and I felt my cheeks burn a little. Will and me? Home alone? 

"I…" I hesitated, chewing my bottom lip nervously. "You won't be long, right? Heard on the radio there’s a storm for later."

"I won't, promise. Just let him in, he's already aware I'll take a little longer to be there. See you soon. Thanks, Y/n!" She hung up, not leaving me any time to answer. I put the phone down, still chewing on my bottom lip. I could feel excitement rising on my stomach, making me feel slightly nauseated, and noticed my hands starting to sweat.

Please. That was ridiculous. What was I, a teenager? I was a grown-up, well-succeeded woman, for God's sake. I rubbed my hands on my jeans, driving a little faster than I usually did almost unconsciously. I got home after twenty minutes, parking outside the pretty house. Will was already there, leaning against his car, so lost in his thoughts he barely noticed I'd arrived. I looked at my reflection at the mirror hurriedly, fixing my hair, pinching my cheeks to look less pale, brushing my eyebrows with my fingers to make them look neat. I wasn't even wearing any lipstick today. It had been a long day at work. 

I opened the car door, exiting the vehicle, the noise from shutting the door finally bringing him out of his daze, and he finally seemed to notice me. He smiled lightly, lowering his eyes. He had his glasses on, but as soon as he saw me, he took them off, hanging them on his shirt.

"Hey, Will. I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long. There was a little bit of traffic." I justified, walking to the porch and waiting for him to follow me. 

"Y/n. Not at all, I just got here. Alana explained what happened, thanks for coming to let me in. Hope I didn't ruin any appointment you may have had." He waited until I unlocked the door, and we finally were engulfed with the warm air of the heater.

"Nope, I was coming home, no appointments lost. Please, come in. I'm not sure you've ever been here before, but make yourself home." I hung my trench coat, sighing with the pleasure of being home. I loved the atmosphere of that place. "Can I get you anything? Water, soda, beer…"

"Thank you. I'm fine. And no, I haven't been here before." I held back the temptation of saying "good", biting my bottom lip as I watched him sit on the couch. I just stood there for a while, not sure of what to do next. 

He frowned a little, probably thinking why I was acting so weird, and that made me nervous, because it was just an easy step to realize my silly crush on him. Did he know? What if Alana said something? Said something? For fuck's sake, he was Will Graham, he could probably see that written across my stupid face! Shit, he knows. I'm making a fool of myself. Why do I even…

"Is everything okay?" His voice startled me a little, pulling me out of my neurotic breakdown, and I wondered how my facial expressions looked. Was I blinking only one eye like the stereotyped madness of cartoons? I certainly didn't look normal. I cleared my throat, laughing lightly.

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess I'm not really used to having people over anymore. I've been working a lot lately. People are dying like flies." I sat on the armchair in front of him, sighing. 

"What we do can be overwhelming sometimes. What we see every day. It just… stains you." He said, with a dark look on his serious eyes. 

I nodded. I felt that way sometimes, but I was used to it. I stopped feeling that sense of inadequacy on my chest years ago. 

"I guess you just begin to cope with it, though. Our brain adapts to that harsh reality. But it's always nice to vent somehow. What do you do in your free time?" I asked, wondering if I was getting too personal. Did I sound like I was probing to ask him out?  I felt my face getting warm. Damn it.

Either he didn't realize, or he was just too chivalrous to point, but he didn't mention anything.

"I fish." He said, simply. I nodded with a light smile.

"And you play with your doggies." I pointed, smiling wider. I loved dogs. He'd mentioned them before, so I just brought the subject up, trying to shift the attention from me to them. Will smiled back, his eyes with a subtle glow. He really loved them, and that was so sweet. "Fishing sounds nice. Unfortunately, I could never. I'm too restless. I'd probably startle all the fish and wouldn't catch anything."

He laughed, and that was the first time I ever heard that sound coming out of him. I felt like I was someone deaf that was able to hear the sound of Mozart's symphonies for the first time, and I just knew. There was never detachment from the idea of Will being more than an acquaintance. It was tackled down inside my brain somewhere, for the brain tends to adapt to harsh realities, but it was still there, just waiting for some incentive. 

"It's just a matter of training, getting used to it. I could teach you someday… if you want." He blinked a few times, as if he was surprised with his own boldness, smiling lightly. "And you? What do you do to vent?" He asked, seeming genuinely interested.

"Well, I read a lot. Maybe I could read by the riverside while I watch you fish." I said, shrugging with a subtle smile.

"It's a date, then?" Will inquired, making me mortified. Caught me by total surprise, and when I was about to say something, my phone rang.

"Excuse me." I answered the phone. It was Alana. "Hey. We're already here waiting for you."

Not that I wanted her to arrive any time sooner, but she didn't have to know that.

"You won't believe me; I've got a flat tire. There's a guy helping me out, I was lucky, I'm in the middle of nowhere. But I'll get there in about fifty more minutes, more or less. Can you put Will on the phone? I'll explain everything to him."

"Do you need one of us to pick you up? I'm sure he wouldn't mind, I wouldn't…"

"No, he's almost done. Thank you. Let me talk to Will, I'll be there soon. The storm is about to catch me, I wanna hurry."

I sighed, grimacing at him. 

"She wants to talk to you." I passed him the phone, studying his expressions while he talked to her. As I looked at the window, I could see the dark clouds gathering up, making the end of the afternoon murky. The storm was about to hit hard. I could see a few thin drops of rain starting to wet the glass.

"I can stay a little longer, no problem. I'm being well attended." He traded looks with me, biting his lip slightly. "Okay. I'll see you soon, Alana."

He gave me the phone, but Alana was already gone. I put it on the coffee table, getting up.

"I think I'll pour myself some wine. Do you want some?" I asked politely. "It's one of the fanciest ones; Hannibal gave us a bottle when we dined at his house a few days ago."

"Yes. Thank you." He waited for me to come back with the beverages, and I did my best not to spill anything, sitting on the couch beside him while I gave him the glass. "So you're acquainted with Dr. Lecter?"

"Oh yeah, he's an old friend of Alana's, sometimes he invites us to dinner. He cooks the best meals I've ever had in my entire life, so I don't exactly decline the invitations. And he's one of the most brilliant people I've ever met, so it's always interesting." I took a sip of the crimson liquid, moaning low in pleasure. Good wine. I preferred a good cup of hot oolong, but it was impossible not to appreciate the quality of that drink. 

A few glasses after and a lot of talks about dogs, fishing and other hobbies, he finally felt safe to bring back the topic. The rain had started really pouring, the now thicker drops hitting the windows loudly. Alana hadn't called again. It was nighttime now, the sky seeming to be darker than usual. I was low-key worried about her, but the conversation was too great to interrupt. She was a good driver. She would be just fine. 

"I've been seeing Hannibal Lecter in his office. Not exactly his patient, though. A courtesy of Jack Crawford to keep an eye on the coping of my brain functions." He sounded a bit bitter, drinking a few sips of his wine.

I could see he didn't like therapy. Must be hard with someone with a mind like his.

"You know, sometimes, Alana psychoanalyses me. Like, she doesn't even notice. It's cute, but sometimes it creeps me out." 

"She has a professional curiosity about me, but she's too polite and considerate to let it slip out. We've never even been alone in the same room together."

I held back a bitter comment, not wanting to talk shit about my cousin, but he saw it right through me. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to put you in a complicated position."

"I know. You're sweet." The word slipped through my tongue before I could contain it. Will blinked a few times, seeming surprised, and I felt my cheeks burn, starting to stutter. "I meant… I'm sorry, did I make you uncomfortable?"

"No, no. It's just… no one's ever called me that before." It was my time to get surprised. He didn't seem to be complimented much, and that just made me flabbergasted. I couldn't be the only one who saw how fantastic Will was.

"... Ah. Well, some people are just shy. I'm shy as hell, don't even know how I had the nerve to say that, it's probably the wine starting to kick in. Hope I really didn't make you uncomfortable, though. Don't need to be polite, it's okay to tell me."

"Actually, I'm curious to know what else you think of me. I sense it's not the only word you have to define me." He sounded bolder, and his eyes were on mine, giving me shivers down my spine. 

"Well… I think you're too exceptional to be defined with a few words. You're… Kind, brilliant… I see how seeing what you see, doing what you do, how it wrecks you sometimes, and you just keep doing it because you're saving lives. That's so selfless, Will. That's…" I was going to say more, but at that very moment, a loud thunder just made the house practically tremble, and I let out a real inelegant weep, coming closer to Will and holding his arm firmly, my fingers grabbing on the fabric of his shirt. He could've thought it was an artifice to get closer to him, but he could see how frightened I was, trembling like a cornered wild little beast. I hated thunders, fireworks, anything loud. Feeling ridiculous, I released his shirt, apologizing with embarrassment.

"It's okay. It's just noise. I'm here." He put some of my hair that had fallen to my face behind my ear with such a tenderness that I felt my stomach twitch, realizing suddenly how close we were. He was looking at me as if it was the first time he was actually seeing me. 

The phone rang again. Alana! I grabbed it from the coffee table, turning to face Will. He wasn't avoiding eye contact anymore, his pupils were dilated. My breathing was accelerated, and I knew it had little to do with the thunder.

"Lana, is everything okay?" I asked with genuine concern. "Are you close?"

"Ah, Y/n. I'm so sorry. I don't think I'll make it in time, I'm driving slow, the roads are slippery because of the storm and it's pretty foggy. I'll stop at a motel and spend the night, or at least wait for the storm to pass. I'm so furious with myself!"

"It's okay cuz, do what's safer for you. I'm sure Will will understand. I'll pass him the phone." I gave him the phone and he talked to Alana for a few minutes, but I wasn't listening. She'd ruined the moment unintentionally, and now he was probably going home. When would I have an opportunity like that again? 

"Okay. Don't worry. I'll see you tomorrow. Bye, Alana. Take care." He gave me the phone and I put it on the coffee table again. Before any of us could say anything, another thunder cracked the sky, and this time, Will held me so I wouldn't be afraid. The lights went out, and he held me against his chest protectively, making me smell his aftershave and some perfume. He smelled so good. For a moment, I just stood there in his arms, feeling his warmth, his breath, the steady beats of his heart. 

I moved away just a little to see his face, very close to mine, but it was so dark I could only see shadows. A lightning lit up the room and, just for a little moment, I could see his gorgeous eyes staring at me. After a soft touch of his thumb on my lips, he finally kissed me, so gentle, like I could break as fine china with any rougher move. I touched his neck with both my hands, playing with his hair, feeling how soft they were. He pulled me closer, his hands on my waist, and the kiss started to get deeper, voracious, as if we were hungry for each other. Maybe the wine was helping to raise the lust; all I know is that I've wanted that to happen for a long time. Will's kiss was everything I imagined it would be, but entirely different at the same time. All I could say was that he was great at it. His hands traveled through my body, and I grabbed his hair, pulling it slightly. That made a low growl echo through his chest, and I started to feel my body fervent as a bonfire.

I couldn't say much because I was breathless and I didn't want to stop what we were doing, so a single word left my lips as I kept my forehead on his.

"Stay."

Will bit his lip, kissing me again, and that was all the answer I needed.

xx 

Morning. Thin sunrays illuminated my bedroom floor through the curtains, waking me up. The storm was gone. I haven't had a nice night of sleep like that in ages. I looked at the other side of my bed and there was Will, sleeping heavily. It wasn't a dream, after all. Last night really happened. I smiled, staring at the roof with disbelief in my eyes.

I stared at him for a few seconds, unsure of what to do. Should I just let him sleep? He looked so heavenly, his hair was messy, his breathing steady, he seemed so less troubled than he usually was. I touched his hair lightly, caressing it with tenderness, and he started to move. I could see his neck, and a few hickies we marked on his albescent skin. That made me blush a little bit, and I laughed silently. 

He opened his eyes while I still touched his hair, but I didn't stop, and he didn't seem to want me to. We stared at each other in silence for a few moments, and he smiled, a different smile than the usual ones he gave me.

"Hi." He said, pulling me closer by my waist, stroking the skin under the sheets. I pecked him on the lips, then kissing his forehead, his cheek, his jawline. 

"Hey there. Good morning. I'm starving, are you having breakfast with me?"

"Actually, I gotta go home. Feed the dogs." He said, stroking my nude shoulder with his finger.

"Of course. Your dogs. I won't keep you then, poor babies must be so hungry." I kissed his cheek and was about to get up when he pulled me again, gently kissing my lips. I smiled, probably looking like an idiot. A joyful idiot. "I'll let you get dressed. I'll be in the kitchen."

I dressed up in my long and black robe, smiling at him before I left the room, going to the kitchen, where I started to make some french toasts. After a few minutes, I heard the front door open, and an exhausted Alana came in, her hair frizzy and her coat looking still a bit wet.

"Oh, Lana! Go change, you'll get a cold!" I stopped what I was doing, going to her and helping to take off her coat.

"That storm was a nightmare. I swear I won't ignore the warnings ever again. I'm so sorry, I had no idea it would get this bad, yesterday was one of those days where everything just goes wrong. Hope Will arrived well at home, did he seem disappointed or annoyed before he left? I was so inconvenient…"

I didn't even have time to answer, because Will opened my bedroom door, coming out while buttoning his shirt, suddenly realizing Alana was there.

"Oh." Alana said, looking so flabbergasted I almost laughed at her. Will rose his eyebrows at the sight of her, seeming a bit unsure of what to do or say. I wasn't planning for her to find out like this, it was a bit early, I wasn't expecting her to arrive so soon. "Hi, Will."

"Alana. Hi." He avoided looking at her, staring at me, and his eyes immediately softened. I smiled, he smiled back, and that was it, Alana was forgotten.

"Off you go to feed your children." I joked, biting my bottom lip. "I guess I'll see you later, then."

"Definitely." He simply said, kissing my forehead while caressing my hair, certainly a little embarrassed to kiss me in front of Alana. "See you later, Y/n. Bye, Alana."

"Bye, Will." I waved with a soft smile, and he grabbed his jacket, leaving the house.

My smile grew larger and I left my head fall back, squeaking low in commemoration. What a night! What a morning! I never thought I would thank a storm so much, let alone a bloody thunder.

Before Alana could say anything, I realized Will had left his glasses at the coffee table, and I picked it up in a hurry, bursting through the front door and calling him before he left, waving in front of the car.

"You forgot your glasses!" I said, and he opened the car windows, raising his hand to pick them.

I leaned against the car window, putting the glasses on him, and kissing his lips fiercely. He moaned in surprise, holding my face to deepen the kiss. After a moment, I pulled away, appreciating the view of his lips so reddish. 

"Go back inside, it's cold." He said with a cheeky smile, and before I could say he actually made me hotter, he took off with the car.

I went back inside, where Alana was waiting for me with her arms crossed. 

"What the hell did you do to Will Graham?" She asked, sounding severe, but a smile was trying to escape her lips "I mean, besides trying to suck his soul with your mouth a few moments ago."

"Oh, shut up!" I laughed, blushing violently. "You made that happen, you know? Thank you. Was that a set up or did the universe actually conspire in my favor?"

"I wish I'd planned this. That would mean I would've had a plan b and I wouldn't have stayed at that disgusting mote… Y/n, you're full of hickies, I can't believe you!"

"You're starting to sound like my mom, Lana. I'm gonna wear a turtleneck, don't worry, I don't want Beverly all over me like a bloodhound and Brian and Jimmy's witty comments today. In fact, keep it to yourself, okay? Will's discreet. I won't even tell Beverly, if she finds out, the whole bureau will know, hell, maybe even Freddie Lounds."

"I told you to let it go, Y/n. Will's very unstable right now. I… I only want what's best for you." She said with concern in her bright blue eyes. I sighed, walking to her and kissing her cheek with affection.

"You're a good cousin. But I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself, okay? Unless this isn't only about me, unless it concerns something else." I raised an eyebrow while staring at her, more confident that I've ever been. "Is there something you wanna tell me?"

She hesitated, clenching her jaw, but never spoke. 

I smiled, tapping her cheek very lightly in approval.

"I gotta get ready to work. Wanna grab lunch with me later?" I asked in a casual tone, a cynical smile on my face. She shrugged. "See you later then, cuz."

[latenightcinephile]

#719: 'Hour of the Wolf', dir. Ingmar Bergman, 1968.

Ingmar Bergman: <makes Hour of the Wolf> Me: that's a trap. Me: <walks into trap>

According to people who have seen a lot more of Ingmar Bergman's filmography than I have, this is an interesting actor's piece, but not a very successful film overall. They cite the overall reliance on suspension of disbelief, and argue that if you have to actively tell your audience to put their critical thinking faculties on hold for the plot to be persuasive, then you haven't made a very good film and you shouldn't pretend your artifice is deliberate. One of the things I've always tried to avoid when writing about the films on the list is pretension. If I think a film isn't very good on its own merits, then I don't feel the need to defend its watchability. Something can be important without being good or fun, and I try not to pretend I know more than people who make a living discussing films just because I have a degree and can scroll to the sources at the bottom of a Wikipedia article.

All that being said, I think Hour of the Wolf is a trap Bergman has set for people who analyse films, and I think I can discuss the trap without falling into it myself. I think. Let's see.

The plot of Hour of the Wolf is pretty simple: A woman tells us the story of how her husband, an artist, disappeared. They moved together to an island owned by a wealthy couple who lived in a nearby castle. The artist Johan (Max von Sydow) is beset by nightmares about strange figures, and forces himself to stay up all night, even through the hour just before dawn, which is where the film's title comes from. The wife, Alma (Liv Ullmann) is visited one day by an old woman who knows where Johan keeps his diary, and she encourages Alma to read it. Reading the diary, Alma discovers that Johan is hallucinating the figures from his nightmares, and also his former lover, Veronica Vogler (Ingrid Thulin).

Johan and Alma are invited to the castle for dinner, along with other inhabitants of the island, who we've seen through flashbacks are the same people pestering Johan. Everyone is a big fan of Johan's work, and everyone knows his history with Veronica, which makes the whole dinner awkward bordering on eerie. They seem to view art as a commodity, and artists as figures to be humiliated as a kind of public service, but all in good fun. During their late-night discussions, Johan admits to Alma his previous traumas, which test her faith in her husband. They are invited to another dinner, and promised that Veronica will be there. Johan shoots Alma (fatally, he believes) and runs to the castle to be reunited, where he discovers that the guests are the nightmarish beings he feared. Nonetheless, he finds Veronica, but is unable to make love to her while the assorted spectres watch. Alma finds Johan in the swamps, where he is attacked by the monsters before disappearing. Back in the film's framing device, Alma asks if she was unable to protect Johan because she didn't love him enough, or if she loved him too much.

Before diving into the more meta analysis, I think it's worth saying that this film is really good, and that Bergman makes it compelling in an interesting way. Watching it (and especially the 2016 remaster) I thought that it could be summed up as 'crisp'. Bergman and his cinematographer, Sven Nykvist, use sparse settings and frame them from unusual angles that highlight textures. Everything is still and quiet, and it feels like you have a sense of how every object in this film feels. Because of that crispness and quietness, it becomes easy to share the fears and internal experiences of Alma and Johan, who are frequently filmed in such tight shots that they physically block the camera from having a full view. That silent claustrophobia is what makes this film so unsettling, although there aren't many points where that unsettlingness becomes outright horror.

A lot of the critics that disliked Hour of the Wolf weren't able to make that leap of belief that Bergman seemingly wants from the audience. With a director as renowned as Bergman, who frequently made heavily allegorical films, people were quick to read the film's content, searching for what was autobiographical in order to fit it into the larger pattern of his work. Critical analyses abound in which Johan is a stand-in for Bergman, in which the character is read through theories of psychoanalysis and sexuality; parallels are drawn with Mozart and E.T.A. Hoffmann, August Strindberg and Henry Fuseli. Johan's nightmares are drawn from dreams that Bergman acknowledged having, so it must be autobiographical; Bergman must be trying to express something about himself.

Okay. But if he is trying to express something about himself, let's step back to look at the film's plot, retold in broader strokes to make the overall picture clearer. An artist meets some people who are fans of his work, and who seem to know his history and behaviour better than his wife does. They oppress him to the point that he turns to violence to get rid of them - in fact, this is the one common denominator of all of Johan’s violence: people observe him too closely. All that changes when the fans offer to reunite him with his lost object of obsession. They all love her too, you see. It must be tempting to be rewarded by the people who know you best, but they never seem to want that for your sake, only for theirs.

Now imagine you've made a film about that, and fans of your work, who seem to know your history, try to tell something about you through it. They observe you and your work closely. They want to use it to figure out how you feel about your past. They like your work, but in the confines by which they understand it - as an allegory, as a commodity, and as a reflection of you.

This is why I think this film is a trap.

Now, if you follow the instructions Bergman lays out, you'll escape alive. Start with the opening credits, during which you can hear the film's crew setting up for a take. That's your first hint: this is a fiction; it's been carefully constructed to make you believe it's real. Enjoy Hour of the Wolf as a film and as a story. Bergman has drawn some elements from his own life, as all artists do, but don't let yourself be distracted by which things are real: Bergman has nightmares, but he's probably never killed anyone, and anyway, that's the whole point. This film spends a lot of time trying to make you decide whether the monsters are real or not. Ignore that. Assume they exist, because the film will eventually tell you. Did they exist beforehand and start haunting Johan, or did Johan will them into existence? Would they exist if Johan wasn't still obsessed with Veronica? Has Johan really done those awful things, or does he just say he has to try and drive Alma away?

Hour of the Wolf is just a story that ends in a swamp. Analysing it is a whole other swamp of its own.

[alphawave-writes]

Clapback

Fuse/Caustic (GasGrenade? Fitznox? Dunno, I’ll use them both) SFW fanfic

Read it here or find on AO3 via this link.

Synopsis: Caustic decides to confront Fuse on a certain incident that occurred live on intergalactic waves involving Fuse's hand and his posterior.

—

Caustic is certainly not the guy to get his ass slapped. Caustic is certainly not the type of person to let people close enough to even slap his ass in the first place, but the games forces him to take a closer proximity to people. Relationships are confusing, messy diagrams of webs and chains and links, just as human bodies are, and it reminds Caustic why he never went into Genetics. Or, for that matter, why there are few who would dare approach him.

But Fuse is a special type of individual with all of the worst traits of the dumbest legends. He has the loud mouth of Mirage, the act-first-think-later attitude of Octane, and—on the rare occasion he gets serious—the wry snark of that pestiferous Crypto. It's no secret that Salvo is full of savages, which makes him a surprisingly capable teammate, so of course the producers of the Apex Games decide that for his very first game, he should be in a team with Caustic and Bloodhound. Of course he talks a big talk, but otherwise he has shown himself to be a capable individual on the battlefield. Unlike Crypto or Natalie or the countless other scientists he knew in the past, Caustic doesn't expect Fuse to be the kind to stab him in the back.

And then Fuse slaps Caustic's ass. Live. For all to see.

And with that, his carefully tailored public reputation, the persona of Caustic, it has all crumbled down to a few key words. Caustic: the man who's ass got slapped on intergalactic waves, and appeared to like it.

"Mate, it's just a cheeky thing the mates do to each other on Salvo. You're telling me you guys don't slap each other's ass after a game of footy or somethin'?"

"This is not Salvo," Caustic reminds Fuse for what must be the hundredth time. Internally, he has to remember to check up what 'footy' is. Probably Salvonian slang for something gruesome.

"Yeah, nah, I get that, doc, you don't have to remind me," Fuse sighs. "Look, even I admit I was tryna rile up the crowd, but I didn't mean to get you stuck in all this sh—mess." 

At least the man has some common sense not to use such vulgar language around him. Quite frankly he finds such crude words indicative of low intelligence. "It does not matter what the crowd thinks," Caustic says, even though he knows that's a bit of a lie. "What matters is that you have put me in an uncompromising position."

"Well, I haven't got you to an uncompromising position yet," Fuse smirks.

Caustic glares at him. "I expect you to rectify this immediately."

"OK, OK, sheesh. Look, I'll let ya in on somethin', if you wanna let the whole thing slip away, you just gotta let it die first. Fighting fire with fire may work on the field, but it ain't gonna stop people from coming up with ideas. Trust me, the amount of people who thought I was shacking up with Mags—er, Maggie—of all people…" Fuse shivers. When Caustic doesn't look convinced, he adds, "I've got an interview coming up tomorrow. If it pops up, I'll just say it's a Salvo thing. If it doesn't, I ain't gonna say squat."

Caustic doesn't know if Fuse is more wily than he gives himself credit for, or if he is just as idiotically open as Caustic assumes him to be, but his first instinct is to trust Fuse will keep his word. It's a strange instinct for Caustic to have.

"Fine. But I expect you to not mock me anymore in the future."

"No prob, doc. Although if you don't mind an old fella saying something?"

Caustic just knows he's going to regret this.

"You do got a nice ass. Real girth to that thing," Fuse wolf whistles appreciatively as he not so surreptitiously glances at Caustic's behind. "Ditch the apron, and I bet that beauty could be an ordnance on its own."

"Fuse," Caustic growls.

"That's the name, don't wear it out," Fuse smirks.

With a surprising amount of speed, Caustic takes Fuse into a hold and shoved him to the wall. His voice is low, his hold absolute. Months  and years in the Apex games have taught him many, many ways to kill and just as many to subdue.

"Oy, easy on the vest."

"What's your game?" Caustic hisses.

"Nngh. Let go of me!"

"Or what?"

Fuse tries to turn his head, his laidback expression transformed into something darker. Caustic does not disbelieve Fuse's claims of being a mercenary on the last, but he found his boast of being one of Salvo's best a stretch. But he's

"You wanna try me, Doc Nox?" Fuse grunts.

"How did you…?"

That second of surprise is all it takes for Fuse to slip out of Caustic's grasp and reverse the situation, pushing Caustic into the wall. It is now that Caustic sees he has miscalculated. He was too tight, put too much strength and effort to shove Fuse into the wall. The correct grip is a little bit lower, utilising not just hands but knees. Fuse's hold might seem more laidback compared to Caustic's attempt, but there is no doubt that Fuse has done this plenty more times before in the past. Despite his bigger size, Caustic doesn't imagine he will slip out quite so easily unless Fuse allows him to.

So there are hidden depths to this man after all. A fascinating test subject for the future, to be sure.

"Don't think I didn't do my research before comin' here. I gave it all up to be here, and I don't go all in without knowing the stakes. Had a client of mine try ask me to track you down. Said that ain't my style, but I remembered. And when you stay a merc at my age," he taps his skull with his metal hand, "you tend to remember things."

Caustic grunts. "I have no idea what you are talking about."

"We all know being in the Apex games protects you, and you know what? It's the same for me, mate. You play up the cameras, kill and get killed over and over again for entertainment, and if they like you, you get to live another day. And I also know once people know who the mysterious doc Caustic is, they ain't gonna risk letting you kick about and murk up the Apex bloody games."

"Then blackmail me. Kill me," Caustic hisses.

"Believe me, if I were hired to, I will. But since I'm not…" Fuse lets go of Caustic. He takes a step back, his light fingers drifting away from Caustic’s clothed limbs. The move is casual but done deliberately. A lot of what Fuse does and says, Caustic realises, is deliberate. Whether it's the result he wants is a secondary concern.

Caustic turns to Fuse and stares. "I do not know if you're idiotic or moronic to let me go without some form of payment."

Fuse sighs. "Doc, this ain't the games and this ain't Salvo. You said that, right? Ain't gonna spill your secret because I feel petty or nothing. We both want to be here, and we'll do our bloody hardest to stay here. You wanna take it out on me, take it out on the ring." His lips curl into a smirk. "I'm also more than happy to take it out in the bedroom, if that's your thing."

Caustic bristles. He's no imbecile, he knows when he is being propositioned, but he is not playing that game. Not with a man he barely knows. "You still want something from me. Tell me now."

"Well, if you really want to buy my silence," Fuse allows a small smile, "how about a drink sometime? You, me, couple bottles of beer, bit of classical music. Get to know each other better."

There is a lot to decipher with that sentence. A lot. But of all the the things Caustic can possibly address, "Classical music?"

"You know, Acca Dacca, INXS, Tame Impala. The real classics, not like that stuffy ones, ey?"

Caustic stifles a groan. "When you say classical music, I was expecting Mozart. Beethoven."

"Would you accept if I did that kinda classical music?" Fuse crosses his arms and leans just a bit too close to Caustic. 

"Typical Salvonian," Caustic mutters under his breath. Always so forward. Always think they can take whatever they want.  

"Ain't an answer, mate," Fuse says.

It's data. Possibly useful data from a new test subject. That's what he's going to tell himself. "One drink, at a venue of my choice. I can and will leave at any time I choose." 

"Deal. Tomorrow at 8 alright?"

"Fine."

"Cool. Then I'll see ya later, darl." Before Caustic can react, Fuse gives another firm slap to Caustic's ass and quickly walks away without another word, disappearing down the hallway.

As Caustic watches Fuse walk away, hand on his ass and equations ringing through his head, he begins to suspect that he might have bit off more than he can chew. He takes out his notepad, which he uses to write notes on the go, and flips over to the latest page.

8pm 12th February. Meet up with subject Walter 'Fuse' Fitzroy for alcoholic beverages and music. Objective: obtain data on subject. Ascertain weaknesses and strengths. Assess whether to team up with for future battles.

Note to self: bring padded pants and lotion.

[fearfulkittenwrites]

“Just a normal night”

Inspired by @s-mscott​ - link for the art, please check it out!

Word count: 2832

Notes: HEY. THIS IS JUST BEEN SITTING ON MY FILES FOR THE LONGEST TIME AND I COMPLETELY FORGOT ABOUT IT DKJFHAKJHAKJDFH. Anyway, it's a long time coming. The writing probs isn't as neat or as good as the latest uploads bc of that, but... idk. Hopefully it's good! I couldn't bring myself to edit it again, sorry about that. I hope you can enjoy it anyways and please go check out the artist, @s-mscott​!

“Guys?” Dick asked, on his tiptoes as he rummaged through every cabinet in the huge kitchen “Hey are we out of cereal? I can’t find my Lucky Charms anywhere.”

“I think so.” Jason answered “I ate the last of the Lucky Charms last night.”

“Yep.” Tim said, popping the ‘p’ as he slid through the countertop, landing a bit behind Dick “I had the last of the frosted flakes two days ago.”

“Froot Loops?” Dick asked.

“I had those.” Duke answered “Sorry.”

“Fruity Pebbles?”

 Cass raised her hand, looking at the ground.

“Reese’s Puffs?”

“I finished the box yesterday.” Damian announced, crossing his arms as he leaned against the marble sink.

“Damn.” Dick murmured and pouted as he closed the cabinet’s door “I’ve been craving cereal today.”

“We can always go get some.” Jason shrugged.

“At three in the morning?” Duke asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Actually, four.” Jason corrected, putting up a finger “And yeah, why not? I mean, we had a hard patrol tonight, and if Dick wants some cereal, I say let’s go get some cereal.”

“It’s four in the morning, Todd.” Damian said.

“I mean, the closest Walmart is open 24/7.” Tim interfered.

“You can’t be seriously considering this, Grayson.” Damian frowned at his older brother.

“Why not? I’m not sleepy anyways.” Dick crossed his arms and shrugged.

“Yes!” Jason hissed “Late night adventures with the baby bats. Let’s roll!” He clapped his hands once, and started to walk out of the kitchen, his siblings following him to the garage.

“Oh wait!” Dick said “Let’s ring up Bruce and see if there’s anything else we need.”

“Bold of you to assume he’d know what we need.” Tim interfered.

“Yeah, well, it’s worth a shot. Plus, do any of us really want to wake up Alfred to ask him?” Dick said, taking his communicator out of his pocket and placing it in his ear “B? Have a sec?” He asked

“Nightwing. What’s wrong?” Came the answer, Batman’s raspy voice flowing through the device.

“Oh, nothing’s wrong. We’re going to take a quick trip to the supermarket, I wanted to ask if you need anything.”

“... At four in the morning?”

“Yeah. Do you need anything?”

Bruce sighed.

“We’re running out of the coffee blend that Tim likes. Alfred the cat’s favorite treats have been gone since last week, and Cass’ favorite ice cream is done. Oh, buy Duke that soda he likes, I drank the last can. Also, Jason’s cookies and that brand of chips you like, we ran out of those. Oh, and buy something with Iron in it, I’m worried that Damian might not be getting enough.”

“Like spinach?” Dick said, writing it down on his phone’s notes.

“Yeah, that’ll do. Ah, and we’re a little low on milk.”

“Okay. Will keep that in mind. Thanks B, have a nice patrol.”

“Please don’t give the papers any headlines.”

“You got it, B. Bye.”

He placed the device back on his pocket.

“Okay, there’s a lot of stuff to buy, so let’s get going. I’ll drive.”

“Shotgun!” Jason yelled.

“We’re taking the S.U.V., one of you will need to ride in the trunk.” Dick said.

“I’ll go.” Cass’ eyes twinkled. No one could understand why she was always so fascinated with the idea of riding in the trunk, but she seemed to find it fun and all of them thought that her excitement was cute.

“Alright then.” Dick smiled, ruffling her hair. Her grin grew wider, and Duke set her hair straight again before they got into the car.

“Hey, can I play my music?” Tim asked from the backseat.

“Don’t force us to listen to the atrocity Drake calls music, Grayson.” Damian complained, arms crossed “Let me play something.”

“Uh, I’d rather not listen to Mozart and Bach while we’re in the car.” Duke protested.

“It’s called classic for a reason, Thomas.”

“Doesn’t matter, bat-brat.” Jason said “I’m with him on this one. Besides, universal car rules, shotgun DJ’s.”

“Since when?” Tim asked.

“Since now.” Jason said, plugging his phone in.

“Uh, I don’t think so.” Dick took the cord from him “According to ‘Supernatural’ rules, ‘Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole’. So that’s mine.”

“No one else watches this show Dickhead!” Jason pulled the cord back.

“Doesn’t matter, because I’m older!” Dick pulled it back again.

“Age is just a number!” Tim pushed himself to the front seat and took the cord back.

“Great point Drake!” Damian pulled him back by his waist, stealing the cord from him too.

“Hey, stop with the fuss, I’m gonna crash the car!” Dick said.

“Maybe we should just play Beyoncé...” Duke suggested. The car went silent for a while.

“Okay.” Dick said “Put on ‘Single Ladies’.”

“No. ‘Halo’ is her best.” Damian complained.

“Uhm, no way? I’m playing ‘Drunk in Love’, and that’s it.” Tim shot back.

“Are you crazy? Play ‘Formation’.” Duke interfered.

“I like ‘Run the World’...” Cass said quietly from the trunk.

“Yeah, okay,” Tim murmured “We’ll play that.”

The girl smiled as the first notes from the song filled the car.

There weren’t many cars in the parking lot, which was expected. They picked up two carts, and Dick hopped inside the one Jason was pushing.

“Dude!” Duke started “You’re in your mid-twenties!”

“Leave me alone, I nearly sprained my ankle today.” Dick stuck his tongue out. No one else questioned anything beyond that. The employees simply sighed, used to the two older brothers and their antics.

“Hey Parker.” Jason greeted the nighttime security guard.

“Hey. I see you two brought the whole gang tonight.” He answered.

“Yup.” Dick smiled.

“So this is a regular thing for the two of you?” Duke asked.

“Are you really surprised, Duke?” Tim shot back.

“No. Not really.”

“Okay. First stop, Bruce said we need to get Tim’s coffee.” Dick exclaimed, looking at the list.

Jason led the way, Dick grinning like a child on the cart, Cass quietly following as she pushed their second cart, Duke making friendly conversation with her while Tim and Damian kept bickering right behind them.

“Oh, wait!” Dick held on to the metal bars “We’re right next to the cookies and Bruce said we’re out of your favorites, Jay.” He looked up.

“Alright, a little detour then.” Jason turned them around, quickly grabbing his treats “Anyone wants anything else from this aisle?”

“But... We don’t need anything else from the aisle.” Duke pointed out.

“Um, we have a billionaire’s credit card?” Tim said “Bruce won’t freak out if we buy a few extra things.”

“Uuuh, they have those koala shaped cookies!” Dick hopped out of the cart “How many do I get?”

“I want one.” Cass said.

“Chocolate or strawberries?”

“Uh… I want both.” She answered.

“Okay, one each for the lady, two strawberries for me...”

“I want a chocolate one.” Tim said.

“Me too.” Damian asked.

“Oh, just take twenty boxes, ten of each flavor.” Jason interfered, dumping them on Cass’ cart “We’ll share later.”

“Oh my God, those are expensive!” Duke said, exasperated.

“Yeah. So?” Jason shot back.

“Bruce is a billionaire, bro. He won’t mind.” Dick said, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah, well, it’s easy for you guys to say it. You grew up like that. It’s kinda hard to accept this when you aren’t used to having so much.” Duke answered, scratching his neck.

“Hey, I get that feeling lil’ bro.” Jason tapped his back “I spent my childhood in Gotham’s streets.”

“Yeah. I mean, I grew up in the circus. I wasn’t used to the idea of getting brand new stuff instead of asking for hand-me-downs from our friends whenever I grew out of my clothes.” Dick interfered.

“But... Just think about it like this.” Jason got closer to him “We now can get everything we couldn’t in the past.”

Duke frowned. Jason nodded encouragingly.

“That... Doesn’t help.”

“I tried.” Jason shrugged. Dick hopped back in the cart “To the coffee aisle!” He exclaimed, pushing his brother around.

“Hang on.” Tim said “This is where they leave the energy drinks. Let me take some.”

“Why do you insist on drinking this crap, Drake?” Damian scowled, reading the label in one of the cans “If you have such a death wish, jumping in front of a train is a much cheaper, quicker alternative.”

“Shut up, little devil.” Tim picked up cans from his favorite brand.

“Jason, push me a little farther down the aisle, please.” Dick asked “They keep their iced teas over there.”

“Ugh, Grayson, you disgust me.” Damian rolled his eyes.

“Don’t be so judgemental Lil’ D.” He smiled, being pushed away by Jason.

As they examined the cans, Dick noticed he had attracted the looks of a middle aged man, a couple of steps from them. He was staring at his hoodie, that contained the frase ‘I love dick’ printed on it.

“Oh,” He exclaimed, smiling at the guy “My name is Richard. That’s why it’s funny.” The man nodded “I’m also queer as fuck, so that makes it better.” He added nonchalantly, and the man’s eyes widened “Okay Jay, I picked up all I wanted, let’s go back.”

“Alright you little shits, back to the coffee quest.” Jason said, leading the way once again. This time, they finally made it to the coffee aisle. Tim crouched down, looking for his favorite blend.

Cass got a little curious once she laid eyes on a colorful package on the top shelf. She picked it up and handed it to Dick.

“Read. Please.”

“This is an espresso roast. Here it says that it has notes of strawberry? Vanilla and... Sugar cane. Colombian coffee. Seems nice. Wanna take it?”

“Yes.” She nodded. Dick dropped it on his cart.

Cass wandered away, still looking at all of the coffee blends.

“Hey girlie,” A guy whistled at her, next to his group of friends “Nice ass.”

She squinted at them.

“Yo, asshole!” Tim screamed, getting their attention “That’s our sister!” He threw a bag of coffee beans at the guy’s face, causing his nose to bleed.

“Hey, who do you think you are?” One of them started to walk up to her brothers. Cass could tell that he wanted trouble, so she grabbed his arm and slammed his face against the shelf, so quickly and brutally that it barely budged, leaving the products unbothered, but the guy fell to the floor, disoriented. She stared at him.

“We are Waynes.” Damian answered, pacing towards them quietly, hands on his pockets “I suggest you apologize immediately for the troubles, if you wouldn’t want to get a hefty lawsuit for your harrasment.”

“Uh, sorry bro.” One of them started, a little scared “We didn’t-”

“Not to me.” He interrupted “To her.”

“We’re sorry, miss Wayne.” All of them mumbled.

“Now promise you won’t do it again.” Damian added.

“We won’t do it again.” They started at the floor, next to where their fallen friend laid down.

“Good.” He squinted “Help your friend up, and get out of my sight.”

They did as they were told, helping his friend walk straight again. As Cass headed back, Dick gently touched her arm, looking up at her.

“Hey, are you alright?” She smiled and gave him a thumbs up. He smiled back.

“Does this happen often?” Jason asked.

“Sometimes.” She shrugged “But they always say sorry after I break their nose.”

“Ayy, that’s our girl.” Jason praised “Alright, we got the coffee. Where to next?”

“Let’s see... Next item is Alfred the cat’s treats.” Dick said.

“Ha!” Damian laughed loudly “As if Alfred would eat the... peasant treats that this store offers. No. I’ve already bought the adequate brand from an online shop.”

“Okay...” Dick raised an eyebrow “Then... Cass’ ice cream is next, but I think we should leave that as the last item, so it won’t melt, which leads us to Duke’s soda because Bruce had the last can.”

“Let’s go then. I think that the cereal aisle is on the way, so we’ll get that first.” Jason said, pushing the cart around again.

“Which ones do we get?” Tim asked, looking through the shelf.

“Everything that has sugar.” Dick answered. His brother began handing him boxes, when they heard a small whisper.

“Oh my God, are those...?” A girl said to her friend, attracting the eyes of the siblings. The duo averted their gaze quickly. Cass frowned at them.

“Relax.” Jason smiled, placing an arm on her back “They’re probably just... Fans.”

“Fans?” She asked, still staring suspiciously at them.

“Yeah.” Dick shrugged “I mean, we’re not super stars, but we do hit the papers pretty often. A bunch of people know us here in Gotham.” The girls were looking again, and Dick gave them a small wave, making them giggle “See? Nothing to worry about.”

“Hum.”

“Hey there, ladies.” Jason greeted, a cheeky smile on his face “What brings you to this fine establishment tonight?”

“We ran out of energy drinks.” One of them answered “What about you?”

“Cereal.” Dick answered, lifting two boxes. They giggled again.

“Hey, um... can we maybe get a picture?” The girl asked “It’s just that... no one will believe us when we tell them about this.”

“Absolutely not!” Damian answered.

“Nah, don’t listen to the little brat.” Jason said “Go ahead.”

Dick held up the boxes again, smiling as Jason made a ‘crazy’ motion with his hands. Tim turned around as the photo was being taken, turning him into a blurr with tired eyes.

“Can we get some selfies too?” The other one asked, grinning.

“No!” Damian protested again.

“Of course you can!” Dick said “Duke, Cass, come here.” He called.

All of them gathered around the cart Dick was staying at, even Damian. He didn’t look so pleased as the photo was taken, but neither did Cass.

“Thanks. You guys really are nice.” The first girl said.

“Oh, you have no clue on how nice I can be.” Jason winked, making her blush “Tell you what, why don’t I give you my phone number and you can text me those pictures later, hm?”

“Sure.” The girl bit her lips as Jason scribbled his number on her wrist.

“You are such a flirt.” Dick rolled his eyes as the girls walked away.

“What, like you aren’t?” Jason snorted, pushing him away, looking for where they kept the soda.

“I think Cass didn’t like that interaction very much.” Tim whispered to his older brothers, who turned around to find a frowning baby bat. Jason chuckled.

“What’s wrong, sis?” She scowled at him “Oh, c’mon, don’t get jealous.” He threw an arm around her shoulder “You know you’ll always be our number one girl, but a guy has his needs. And sometimes, a guy needs a date.”

Cass pushed him away, rolling her eyes as Duke placed five soda cans on her cart.

“Why would you even drink this sugar filled monstrosity, Thomas?” Damian asked, reading the labels “Grandfather wouldn’t even feed his prisoners something as revolting as this.”

“Because, Bat-brat,” He said “We’re all entitled to enjoy at least one or two things that may ultimately be responsible for our deaths.”

“I suppose.” He murmured, lifting an eyebrow “You make much finer points than the rest of them. Father has been looking for heirs in the least suitable places, I assume.” He clicked his tongue “It’s a good thing I’m here to help.”

“Okay...” Duke answered, raising his eyebrows and averting his gaze. There was only so much strangeness that he could handle.

“Great, now we need to get my chips and spinach.” Dick stated.

“Spinach?” Tim asked “Why spinach?”

“B thinks Damian may have been needing more iron in his diet.” Dick shrugged.

“Aaw.” Tim said “That’s actually kinda cute. Do you think he ever worries about our diets?”

“Don’t be stupid Tim, of course he doesn’t.” Jason answered.

“He does.” Dick shot back “He worries about us, he just... Really, really, really, reaaaally sucks at showing it sometimes.”

“Potatoe, potatoe.” Jason murmured.

“Yeah, whatever. Keep me moving Little Wing, we have stuff to pick up and my tiredness is catching up to me.” Dick pointed forward.

“Sure. But the chips are in the opposite direction.”

“Well turn me around then, do you want me to look like an idiot?” Dick said, a little exasperated.

“I wish you had an off button sometimes.” Jason sighed as he made his way to the chips section.

An employee, mopping the floor with a bored expression, looked up from what he was doing when he saw the Wayne gang talking loudly. Dick tried to control his brothers from inside the cart, and had just told Jason to separate a fight between Tim and Damian. Duke and Cass snicker as they saw a bored, six feet tall Jason pushing his much smaller brothers apart.

“Yep.” The employee murmured to himself “Billionaires shopping at Walmart at four in the morning. Just a normal night.”

Hey! If you made it this far, please consider reblogging this? It helps with spreading my fics and it makes me very happy, hahahaha!

Regardless, thanks for reading <3

[c-c-cherry]

Bucci Gang Headcanons!!!

I’m not really one to usually post this kind of stuff, but these are some lil headcanons my pal @jjadegreen and I have come up with while stuck in the same house during the quarantine!! 

These literally range from *probably would happen* to *fucking crack* so y’all have been warned...

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Giorno is one of those people that has a secret sweet-tooth. Like. An insane one where if he actually decides to indulge in it he cannot fucking stop. 

When he does go overboard, it’s usually because Bruno got his favourite ice cream flavour from the store and it’s always at some ungodly hour of the night.

He usually blames it on Mista somehow. Accidentally ate the entire tub of ice cream at 3am? No biggie. Just put the spoon on Mista’s bedside table while he’s asleep! 

Everyone blames Mista for it EVERY TIME and now he’s not allowed to eat any ice cream when they buy it. Mista thinks it’s the Sex Pistols because he swears he doesn’t remember doing it. 

Giorno just sits there like *sweats* “yeah uh no it had to be Mista, right? There’s definitely no one else it could be, right? Right??”

One time Abbacchio caught him in the act at like 4am and they have yet to bring it up.

He would spill Giorno’s big secret, but he really likes to see Mista suffer.

Narancia wears skirts sometimes and it’s not a big deal. He vibes, they all just vibe. No toxic masculinity here. 

Narancia is genuinely afraid of those “IF YOU DO NOT SEND TO 10 PEOPLE THIS WILL APPEAR AT THE END OF YOUR BED AT 3AM” emails.

One time he couldn’t do it because Bruno took his phone away and he sat in bed all night fucking trembling in fear of what chain mail monster would eat his face off this time.

Abbacchio hates geese. No one knows why. Not even Bruno.

Narancia’s real stand name IS Aerosmith, but he’s dead set on calling it Lil’ Bomber because “that’s his rapper name.”

Mista is lactose intolerant but he doesn’t know because he just thinks it’s normal to feel excruciating pain when you eat ice cream. 

“Like how pineapples hurt your mouth when you eat them.” -Mista probably

Bruno literally had to take him to the hospital one night because he inhaled too much ice cream and would not stop throwing up and Mista was like “wait this doesn’t happen to you??”

Trish hates butterflies because *fun fact!* butterflies often feed on not only nectar and fruit, but DECAYING CORPSES of animals! 

When she was a kid, she was walking in some alleyway and ran into a dead animal covered in butterflies. One landed on her arm and she fucking screamed. She will never look at them the same ever again...

Giorno loves to make things into butterflies when they all spend time together, and Trish literally has to suppress a shudder every time one goes near her.

Fugo is one of those people that is basically not afraid of anything, but when a fucking bee comes near him he will LOSE IT. He’s one of those people that will have to get up and run away from a bee when it flies near him.

If you tell him that it will leave him alone if he stops moving, he will punch you.

Giorno likes to make shit into bees sometimes just to fuck with him

Bruno does not like dogs. It probably stems from some childhood experience that went sour, but he does not care. He will be stone-faced during any mission or situation, but if a dog tries to jump up and greet him he will freak. The fuck. Out.

One time Narancia and Mista brought home a dog from the streets and mama Bruno was like “NOPE” and zipped himself out of existence.

Abbacchio found him locked in the closet under the stairs when he got home and made them get rid of it.

Leone was more of a cat person anyway.

Abbacchio eats raw pasta.

Fugo plays chess with himself. When Giorno joins the team he’s like “ugh finally an intellectual” but Giorno has literally never seen a fucking chess board in his life and is too scared to tell Fugo so he just keeps making up excuses as to why he doesn’t “have time” to play chess with him today.

Mista doesn’t shower but he has a BOMB-ass face-care routine. Even Trish is jealous. His face? Baby soft? Ten out of ten. The rest of him? Axe body spray out of ten.

Narancia went through a goth phase pre-canon. Abbacchio was not happy because Bruno kept referring to him as “little Abba” but he let Narancia use his good lipstick anyway.

Mista found his special hat in a street gutter on a rainy day and it matched his sweater so he decided to just keep it. Abbacchio does Trish’s makeup. They go to Sephora together. I don’t make the rules.

Giorno never really told anyone (besides Bruno) that he got his stand naturally so they all assume he got it from Polpo’s lighter and when he mentioned something off-hand about “when I was a kid Gold and I…” everyone’s just like “bitch hold up-”

Abbacchio wears coloured contacts and his ass literally cannot see without them. 

Yes they are expensive as fuck. He blows half his pay-check on them every month. 

One time he lost them right before a mission so he had to pull out his heavy prescription glasses from like 8th grade. They literally looked like this.

I think you can imagine the outcome

Growing up, Giorno only listened to three songs. 

The only reason he had access to these songs was because he found a really old Walkman on the side of the road when he was wandering around once. The tape only had three songs on it; Dancing Queen, It's Raining Men, and some song by Mozart. These were the three songs of Giorno’s childhood. 

He still has it and likes to listen to the tape when he gets sad

Narancia doesn’t know what a period is. Neither does Mista. 

Bruno forces everyone into the living room after overhearing this and makes them all watch one of those really awkward sex-ed videos from the 90s (you know the ones)

It was one of the worst days of their lives

They still have the tape and Narancia sometimes slips it in the VHS player when they all least expect it just to fuck with everyone

Bruno once held a capo meeting at their house (biggest mistake of his life) and all you could heard blasting through the walls of the other room was “YoUr bOdy MiGht Be gOiNg tHrOuGh sOmE cHaNgEs, fOr eXaMpLe yOuR P-”

On that note, Giorno was definitely that one kid who took notes during Sex-Ed

Abbacchio listens to Avril Lavigne

Giorno shaves his arms. It kind of started by accident but now he literally cannot stop or else his arms will look completely fucked up

Bruno has sensitive teeth. He can’t drink water that’s too cold cause it hurts his mouth. Abbacchio makes him tea :)

Fugo plays piano to help him with his anger. He would say that he plays saxophone too, but it’s more like violently screeching into the mouthpiece instead of actually playing it.

Narancia thinks that lesbian is a nationality

Even though Giorno lived in Japan for just a couple years, he’s still pretty fluent in the language because his mother would only speak Japanese to him growing up

The gang has no idea that Giorno is Japanese and when a foreigner is struggling Giorno just swoops in with perfect Japanese and they’re all just really confused.

Giorno doesn’t cry during movies or TV shows, but he’s one of those people who fucking BAWLS during video game credits

Mista and Narancia beat Ocarina of Time together and Giorno was watching from the sidelines and AS SOON as the credits started rolling there were tears.

When KK Slider starts to sing in Animal Crossing New Horizons and your character is brought into a music void and the credits start rolling he tears up just a little bit

Mista is squeamish around dead bugs. Not live ones. Dead ones and solely dead ones

Mista and Trish go thrifting. Mista goes to check the pockets of clothes for spare cash (cause he’s a broke bitch) and Trish goes to buy clothes

Everyone thinks that Mista doesn’t change his clothes but he actually just buys like 7 of the same outfit

Mista sneezes like a white sports dad. You know the sneeze.

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Bonus Bruabba shit because Jade and I always go fucking HARD when talking about our local mafia dads:

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Bruno ties up the little strings on Abbacchio’s tiddy shirt every morning.

They got promise rings. Leone’s trying to find a nice time to actually propose but the gang keeps fucking it up every time they try to go on a nice date together

Bruno and Leone watch thunderstorms together

-The rest of the bucci gang stay inside and play monopoly or something when’s its stormy but these two bring out blankets and sit on the front porch and just be all soft and shit watching the lightning light up the sky and listening to the rain on the roof above them.

Bucciarati and Abbacchio have been mistaken as the following: 

Bruno as a woman and Abbacchio as a man. Abbacchio as a woman and Bruno as a man. Two lesbians. But never an actual gay couple.

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Yeah so I have no idea what that was. These were taken from a google doc we have together that’s just all these jumbled, crack-filled headcanons just for fun. I’m sure you can sense the pure chaos in this. 

Go give my dude @jjadegreen a hello, sis made most of these!

uhhh let us know if you want any more from any other parts. Cause y’all know we probably got some. <3

[requiem626k]

Hello my dear Req, I'm here again to ask for some classical music you could recommend me🤭 Usually I would ask for piano music, but I've been in the mood for one with a harp in it lately! And I know you're busy with school and all that so please take your time hehe. And take care🥰

Hello there, my dearest Kat ❤️! I’d be so delighted to recommend you more pieces, it makes my little heart so happy that you’re interested in them 🥺💕

I hope you’ll like my selection! I tried to include variety in terms of vibes, nationalities and eras this time (Austrian-Classical, Russian-Romantic and French-19th century), instead of sticking to a single man 🤭 I’ll try to keep it short and simple (no that’s a lie, I won’t be able to 😶)

And thank you so much for your consideration, things have been pretty busy for me indeed so I’m sorry for the extremely late post 😖 And I know that uni is soon starting for you, so likewise, please take your time to listen to the pieces <3

That being said, let’s start~

Mozart - Als Luise die Briefe ihres ungetreuen Liebhabers verbrannte

Of course, it wouldn’t be Req’s post if it didn’t start off with Mozart. This is a short lied like Das Veilchen (the one that I previously shared), the title is long haha and it means “As Luise Was Burning the Letters of Her Unfaithful Lover”. As you can guess from its name, this is really, REALLY dramatic. It’s in c minor, a tonality that Mozart doesn’t use so often (but when he does, oh boy, see his Great Mass in c minor 🤤) but which is perfect for its fierce mood. Also it’s fairly special for me because we used to sing this in our music theory classes haha, I would play the piano accompaniment while practicing with the classmates before every oral exam.

I truly adore this lied. The lyrics are once again taken from a poem, a poem of Gabriele von Baumberg, she apparently wrote it at a very young age (18 or so).

My heart melts at 00.34 omg, that soft “melancholie” and the silence that comes after 🥺… It’s truly one of those silences that make you agree with Mozart’s quote:

The music is not in the notes, but in the silence between.

Then, it takes a cheerful turn (he just can’t refrain from putting happy sprinkles 🤭) until the strong chord at 00.49.

I think the section that starts at 01.00 is so worthy of being noted, I love love LOVE the suspense and tension that the piano accompaniment creates and that finishes with a strong build-up.

And the chord at 01.32… I leave my heart there. It just has me so soft. It’s so bittersweet, Mozart for some reason repeats the phrase “May smoulder long yet in my heart.” twice at the end and it’s just- 🥺

As always, he knows so well what word must be cited with what emotion, and chooses carefully his chords and functions. I just love it, and wanted to share since you had liked the previous lied 🤭

Rachmaninoff - Piano Concerto No. 2

*inhale* This one’s gonna be long, I can feel it.

I have literally SO MANY things to say about this one.

Rachmaninoff is a famous Russian composer that you might have heard of. He’s part of the Romantic Era which is, to simplify, about pouring your emotions and the turmoils in your life into your art and depicting feelings instead of trying to stick to certain rules and ‘holy’ virtues, of which we had already talked about a bit hehe.

And this piece… Oh my. You’ll see how different this concerto is compared to the Mozart ones we listened to previously. His second piano concerto corresponds to a depressive episode of his, due to his works not having a big success and being criticised so harshly. This beautiful piece is his comeback work, and you can just feel the inner conflicts, the emotional tornado he had at that period. With Mozart’s concertos, your soul is purified, they softly caress your insides and comfort you. But here, Rachmaninoff takes your emotions, and he proceeds to crush it. He plays with it, throws it, abuses it, you sob and sob and sob. At least I do 😭.

First movement

One can perfectly sense the dark pessimism in the first, silent, dangerous chord. As the 8 chords come one after another, every single one stronger than the previous, you’re on your toes and the tension increases until finally hearing the main theme through violins at 00.43. Listen to that theme very well. It’s so beautiful, so so moving, the piano section creates a fierce, dangerous background and I always get goosebumps when the violins come in.

Then, at 02.30, the second main theme is heard through the piano, pay attention to that! You will encounter it under various forms through the movement 🤭 It’s much softer compared to the first, ominous theme, it creates a beautiful contrast.

I want to note down the beautiful oboe-piano duet in 04.14 🥺. I adore oboes, it has a really beautiful and soft vibe, and here its melody is just so bittersweet when combined with the piano’s accompaniment. Then at 04.35, the piano starts playing a really soft phrase, the soft touch at that high note at 04.46, oh my God my heart. I have a feeling that you’ll adore that part 🥺 I want to note down literally every second omg

At 05.22, it turns once again really quiet and ominous, foreshadowing a big outburst through a build-up. The flutes play a big role in that aura through their short but dangerous phrases.

I especially adore the part at 06.17 in this pre-outburst section, it’s reminds me of a wave of emotions that keep hitting you and stepping back, only to strike even harder afterwards. The flutes in the background reinforce this vibe. The tension gets higher and higher at 06.36 (omg I’ll faint I love this part, I’m trembling while listening to it and trying to write this at the same time, I can’t keep up with my thoughts aaa) through the constant mutual escalation of both the piano and the orchestra. THE BEAUTY OF THE BUILD-UP PLEASE I WILL LOSE MY MIND.

And all this preparation was for the beautifully passionate part at 07.02. Rachmaninoff notes down “Alla Marcia”, meaning it should be played like a march, and its rhythmic features most certainly have that vibe. It’s just so majestic, so pompous, so raw, I love love LOVE it. It’s almost like you’re swooning in euphoria after having an emotional build-up and breakdown, it’s just- it’s something else that I can’t even describe. I just don’t have the right words for it.

I know that the piano’s melody is so alluring and enchanting there, but maybe in a second listen, I’ll want you to pay attention to the violin part during the march section 👀 Can you hear the very first theme that was introduced at the very beginning of the movement? Rachmaninoff was a total genius to put it in the background and make it fit so well. I always hesitate between paying attention to violins or piano, I end up rewinding it every single time 😖 It’s soo good.

After the euphoric section, the second theme comes again. A thing that’s worth noting down is the flute’s beautiful addition at 07.53, it’s in the background but it just makes my heart melt. I also always get goosebumps at the few ominous, sinister seconds that starts at 09.17 😳

Then it goes pretty quietly until the ending hehe, like a calmness after storm 😌 This piece is a total emotional rollercoaster, I swear. At 11.01, I love the playfulness of the piano section, it’s just so mischievous like a little naughty kitten. Then it picks up the pace, and ends with three strong beats.

Ugh. 🦋🦋🦋

Second movement

(meme credit goes to @/pianoomemes on Instagram)

This meme says it all. I don’t even need to add anything else. As you know by now, the second movements are meant to create a sharp contrast with the first one’s mood, and 🥺😭.

The main melody… It has my heart. The movement starts with a soft piano-flute introduction, and the ethereal main theme is heard at 12.56 through an oboe.

I don’t really any other commentary to do on this heavenly movement. Just let yourself in its embrace without any technical/guiding worries <3

(Though I feel obliged to add that the part that truly has me in this movement is 22.17 🥺. It’s just so moving and sweet ahh, it just takes you away, it almost has a sentiment of longing I feel, I always have a drop of tear forming in my eyes at that part.)

Third movement

The third movement is a usual, playful, jokester movement hehe. It’s a general pattern for final movements as you might have noticed, even though this one’s not written under a Rondo form. It’s rare that I say this, but I feel like this final movement is as charming as the second one for me 🤭 (No movement surpasses the first movement though, personally of course~)

The theme that starts at 25.51 through violins is so so charismatic, it almost always flusters me 😳✨.

Then he naughtily plays around with themes, modulations and instruments haha, I’ll leave the commentary at that and leave you once again alone with the movement itself 😌

(The majestic comeback of the charismatic theme at 34.09 though 😳! I’m *this* close to thirsting over a theme omg it’s MESMERISING I want to cry.)

Fauré - Cantique de Jean Racine, Op. 11

And finally, to fulfil your wish 💕, here’s a piece from Fauré where you can hear one of the most beautiful usages of harp in a work, in my opinion.

Even though it’s a religious work, its lyrics are in French. Fauré is a French composer from late 19th century, and even though he’s not that well-known among the media he’s a really unique composer that we can’t even classify in a certain movement. He’s from the same era as the French Impressionists such as Debussy or Ravel, but his style is much more different than theirs. He even has his own unique chord chain etc. that we use the term “fauréen” in harmony classes. But anyways, onto the piece 🤭

I really have no proper words to describe how heavenly, ethereal, poetic, incredible, awe-inspiring and soft this piece is. Like oh my God. I feel my heart melting into a puddle and tear up every time I listen to it. I just can’t bring myself to believe that he was only 19 when he composed this for a competition, if my memory doesn’t deceive me.

The beginning with the orchestra and harp is making a truly beautiful beginning, and the first moment that I want to talk about is 01.09, it always gives me goosebumps when the sopranos come in on the background that the basses and tenors had created.

At 02.00, there’s a soft oboe that comes in for a few seconds and only plays four notes, do you hear it? Those four notes can have my heart 🥺. It’s so beautiful omg. It’s crazy how the littlest touch could make such big of a difference. He could’ve easily not put it there, but he did and that’s what makes a good composer.

The “que tout l’enfer” at 02.24 is so fierce, so mad, “enfer” means “hell” and Fauré really accentuated its meaning, I love it.

And when the piece comes to the ending, at 04.14, a soft flute plays the beginning of the main theme for the first time I believe, which is a really enchanting change for the ear.

And the ending is just so, so soft like the whole piece, I truly can’t. The main melody is just so beautiful, and he truly did an impeccable job with mixing all the voices, the orchestra and the beautiful harp together. I just turn into a soft, soft bubble made out of cotton every time I listen to this.

~

Ahh this was a long ride, I truly hope you enjoyed the pieces, my beloved! I wasn’t sure which style or composers you would like the most, I guess we’ll try and see 😳❤️

Just for the sake of archiving them, I’ll also add the links of the beautiful pieces we discussed on Discord.

Fauré - Barcarolle no. 1 (Fauré brainrot is strong with me nowadays haha)

Mendelssohn - Etude no. 1 op. 104b (I feel like you’d love his A Midsummer Night’s Dream overture ngl, because Shakespeare 😳 I didn’t add it here though since it doesn’t contain piano or harp)