#the amount of beloveds born in November? fated | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

princessracecar · 3 months ago

Text

Daniel hears the !!!!! Inside his head and lets out a beleaguered sigh, letting his head slump over the back the uncomfortable chair he’s sitting in. It is 1o’clock in the afternoon on a Tuesday in mid November and they are at the Herman Miller store on Park Avenue because they need a new sofa for the condo. The condo that Armand purchased pre-construction sometime in the early 90’s and promptly forgot about until the formal assets were divvied up in the divorce. The dues were being paid automatically out of an account that had been collecting interest since before Daniel was born.

The !!!!!!! Grows louder inside his skull and Daniel resigns himself to the fact that he is going to have the leave the uncomfortable chair to see whatever monstrosity Armand has set his fickle little vampire heart on. At least this store doesn’t sell rugs. Or maybe they do. He honestly isn’t sure if there is anything the store won’t sell, up to and including the sales people themselves for the absolutely obscene amount of money Armand is spending while dragging him from room to room like a vaguely alarmed blow up doll. When they had offered up a private car to escort them to the warehouse offsite Armand had practically vibrated off his side of the spindly Eames sofa they had been sharing and directly into his elbow causing him to nearly spill the thimbleful of piping hot espresso he was awkwardly clutching. It had almost been worth the whole endeavor just to see the terrifyingly efficient saleswoman flinch ever so slightly at the upset. He is fairly certain the excited buzzing isn’t over a rug though. Thus far, Armand has attempted to purchase 83 rugs for their 2500 square foot condo, which to Daniel seemed excessive even by Armand standards. He had managed to talk him out of 14 of them but the remaining 69 were sitting in a rather alarming stack on their living room floor. Daniel wasn’t sure what Armand planned to do with them all. Maybe make a nest. Or slither himself underneath the stack and use them as a really, really heavy weighted blanket. Honestly, Daniel thinks to himself, maybe that would fix him.

Daniel heaves himself out of the idiotically named Coconut chair and makes his way out of the seating area and towards the back of the warehouse, following the growing sense of excitement emanating from a stack of particularly hideous sectionals. He rounds the corner and comes to an abrupt halt.

“No.” He says

“Absolutely not.” He says

Armand gives him a look that is half deeply offended and half deeply wounded. It’s pathetic. Like a wet kitten hissing at you. He sighs again.

“It looks like the chairs you sit in at the movie theatre.”

“Exactly!” Pipes Armand enthusiastically. Smiling in a way that manages to show all of his teeth at once.

“They have recently re-introduced the Chiclet line back into circulation, however, when I heard that there was an original in the warehouse…”

Daniel tunes out the rest and resigns himself to his fate.

“… you’ll notice that the condition is particularly suburb with minimal sun-fading on the seat backs-“

Daniel interrupts Armand mid-diatribe.

“And this will make you happy?”

Armand looks at him, across the back of the “modular seating arrangement” with his eyes slitted like a contented cat.

“Yes, beloved. This will make me very happy.”

‘Ok.” Says Daniel

“Alright, fine.” Says Daniel

“When can they deliver it?”

The terrifyingly efficient saleswoman from earlier appears suddenly at his elbow, proffering an iPad and a stack of forms. He jumps slightly to the left and is almost sorry for his lack of espresso, although her ire would absolutely not be worth the sad, wet kitten look Armand would give him if he ruined their “new” sofa before it even left the warehouse.

Armand’s joy is radiant.

Daniel feels like he should have put up more of a fight before abruptly remembering the gray prison aesthetic of the Dubai penthouse.

On the drive home, Armand gazes contentedly out the window. The lines of his back for once relaxed.

“I’m going to fuck you over the back of that sofa.” Says Daniel into the silence.

“Actually,” says Armand with an accompanying image beaming it’s way directly into his brain “I believe you’ll find that it is the perfect hight for me to fuck you over the back of it.”

#devil’s minion #iwtv #armand #amc interview with the vampire #interview with the vampire #amc iwtv #daniel molloy #crack fic #Daniel and Armand go furniture shopping #This is so self indulgent and I am not sorry

30 notes · View notes

helenaofdevon · 3 years ago

Text

HELENA GREY : COUNTESS OF DEVON

BULLETPOINTS:

NAME: Helena Courtenay nee Grey

AGE / D.O.B.: 25 || August 22nd, 1534

STATUS / RANK: Countess of Devon

COUNTRY OF ORIGIN: England

PLACE OF BIRTH: Bradgate House, Bradgate Park, Leicestershire - England

BIRTH ORDER: Second

MOTHER & FATHER: Frances Brandon & Henry Grey

SIBLINGS: Two, an elder and younger sister

SEXUALITY: bisexual biromantic

HOROSCOPE: Leo. ( leo virgo cusp )

VIRTUES: dynamic, perspicacious, authentic

VICES: strong-willed, opinionated calculative

MARITAL STATUS: married to nicholas courtenay, earl of devon

ISSUE: n/a

RELIGION: roman catholic / protestant. raised in a religiously divided house. is well versed in both

ALLIES: to be announced...

ADVERSARIES: to be announced...

TIMELINE:

approx. 1492 – mary tudor, is born ten months after her brother, henry viii

early 1533 – wedding of frances brandon and henry grey, the marquess of dorset with permission from their parents as both are young and in love.

22 August 1534 – helena grey is born, she is the second child of couple

approx. 1540 – frances brandon with the approval of her husband begins to educate her daughters at Bradgate House. several clergy knowledgeable in all subjects and both protestant and catholic are commission in the private education of the girls. the youngest is still to small to start lessons.

approx 1551 / 52 – Helena's elder sister is likely married off. Helena is officially presented at court ( despite having grown up within it to an extent )

early 1554 – Helena Grey is precontracted to Nicholas Courtenay but Henry Grey dies of natural causes ( sickness ). Formal marriage arrangements thusly drag on for sometime for various reasons

late 1556 – Helena Grey formally marries Nicholas Courtenay

November 1558 – Helena's fahter in law and husband are arrested & tried ( the courtenay conspiracy ); cousin william pardons Col but exectued Hugh Courtenay thus making Col the new earl or devon; Helena is made countess of Devon

IN CHARACTER INFORMATION.

NAME & TITLE/ROLE: helena grey, countess of devon

MONIKER: the empyreal

AGE: 25

FACECLAIM: alicia vikander

THREE POSITIVE TRAITS: dynamic, perspicacious, authentic

THREE NEGATIVE TRAITS: strong-willed, opinionated calculative

BIOGRAPHY:

A single decision changes the world from what it might have been. With a twist of fate or a turn of time in a direction that alters its ineffable course and what we know is no longer the truth hidden within the pages of a new history. So a family line is both royal adjacent and equally as royal as the one that rules. The grandson of the stepson of Edward IV would marry the Wotton girl and Henry Grey, Marquess of Dorset would be brought forth into the world. Frances Brandon would also be born of Mary Tudor, the youngest surviving child of Henry VII and sister to Henry VIII. The two would marry and they would have three daughters and no sons and that would be an absolute facet of time - a fixed point that would remain unchanged in this or any other reality. Rather one should state that events before the birth of these two individuals had changed setting an entirely new course when ten months after the birth of a future king his sister Mary Tudor was then born. Altered forever was the flow of time and so became a possibility for a different set of Grey sisters to be born. It would not change though the fact their blood would mark them as dangerous and would call into question those would they attach themselves to as royal lines no matter how distant were quite troublesome.

Helena Grey would be born the second daughter and middle child of her parents and born perhaps as one of the most miraculous women. Each Grey sister was something to behold and wonder just the same but a girl would stand out. Helena had many passions and a zest for life and yet was capable of being a rather rooted person who was loyal, kind, and quite perspicacious. She was not her elder sister who was by default their example nor the younger sister who was beloved as the youngest and final child. A girl however in any situation even from the smallest age took charge and was the leader of the small band of girls. In the days of early youth, there were a gaggle of giggles and many games to be played in the various halls causing little ones to be a source of mild trouble and much entertainment which she was generally at the heart of. She would have an interesting youth and her mother would see that each of her girls was incredibly well educated in a religiously divided household. Helena excelled in her studies as tutors ( many of them various clergy from both the catholic and protestant faith ) taught her various languages and to read and write many of them and more. She danced and swirled through everyone’s lives and one could rightfully argue even as a young girl you were forever changed by her presence and the life and light she brought to any situation.

All was not so wondrous but time and age cover massive events that would come into play years later. Helena was more than well aware of family history and the lines that twisted and crossed and broke out into branches that had started civil wars and uprisings. Lady Helena knew many people's real faces behind the masks they wore at court, having been a favorite as her mother once was of the king. After all one learns to play the game or to become the one being played. There were so many rules, so many unwritten codes and all the world swirled with intrigue and Helena navigated the water thusly earning to her name several handfuls of friends but suffered no fools as her companions - especially as many a person with loftier ambitions would seek out noble blood with royal ties with no sort of good intention. Helena, not that she wasn't already strong-willed and having a smart tongue, learned she had a sharp one and an eye for false intention despite her Christian ways being told a woman was to be meek and forgiving of her fellow man.

There were suitors indeed interested in the girl even before she became available to marry, even before her elder sister was wed. Who could deny she had a draw and one enjoyed being around her never short on a conversation or any pleasantly stimulating amount of time spent but in truth, Helena would've rather not married at all. She was of an independent mind, not keen on being tied to a man whom she barely knew and her parents chose. Truly even court despite her deep love for people and being a point of focus would've rather spent her time in the country reading books. living fully and caring for horses and dogs and the idea of a small gaggle of children she could return to either sister not enjoying the idea of settling. Life was to be lived and well and perhaps Helena had ideas of what she wanted. It certainly wasn't the men that presented themselves especially after the elder sister wed with Helena being even more pushed to the forefront than she had naturally been with her personality. When Helena set eyes on Nicholas Courtenay a young woman knew what she wanted or rather who she would desire to marry if one must marry. She saw in him an equal partner, one who would respect and cherish her, one she would be willing to call husband and he did indeed make her laugh. It never fully occurred to her either that her interest and yes eventual marriage to the man would have quietly been considered a potentially problematic union. Two descendants of separate plantagenet lines could've been construed as a suspicious and powerful marriage politically. Was it what both of their parents had intended when a match was brokered? Could there have been a moment while walking past her father's study and the door was slightly ajar that two men may have quietly conspired something more in marrying the two? What could've been considered suspicious about two men with some ambition whispering amongst themselves? Helena would never know what was truly discussed in that room as her father died in 1554, narrowly avoiding the fate his friend would suffer later dying of a sickness that would take him off his head suffering the effects of fevers and other health issues. That was not the actual tragedy a young woman would suffer for it would come later once she was married to Col.

Helena, like all the world, mourned her great uncle's passing. The death of a king was nothing easy to stomach especially after the death of her father though years apart. She did not expect however when her father-in-law mourned the death of a friend and distant cousin that it would break open a well building up inside him for years. Hugh Courtenay had become a father to Helena since joining their house, he was indeed a dear companion of hers and she cared for her father and mother in law but saw nothing of what was to come. A series of letters poured out from her father in law's hands with many damning words and the attention it thus shined on Col and herself. Ugly words and pointed accusations were made during an investigation into the letters that her marriage in connection with the things Hugh Courtenay was writing was the beginning of some great conspiracy to seat someone else on the throne and other such aspirations tied with Catholic strings. Helena watched the trial drag on and saw a Queen push for the death of both the young lady's father in law and her husband as well. For a brief moment, Helena could nearly feel the axe on her own neck had both a husband and father-in-law been executed - she imagined and expected the worst. Thankfully, truly as Helena would see it, cousin William would intervene but only on behalf of Nicholas. Her husband's charges were dismissed but Helena watched like many others did the execution of her father-in-law to again serve as a warning not to attempt anything similar or remotely considered treasonous.

As war knocks at the doorsteps of England now and spreads across europe Helena finds herself in a precarious position. She is a well connected woman among the court and is popular among the people and abroad through her correspondence with many individuals who have strong opinions with the ears of leaders and influential beings. Helena is of royal blood as is her husband and both were well educated and dynamic.. One would be foolish not to be suspicious of the two especially after her husband's father, the late Earl of Devon's beheading. If so motivated and aligned they could pose a serious threat - a credible one. The woman is well within her rights to be angry, to seek revenge as her husband may desire but Helena is loyal and more concerned about the whole of England rather than vengeance. She worries over her husband though not fully knowing where his mind is at with the state of his depleted family and if she should be suspicious of his thoughts. If they were to err on the side of the whispers and suspicions of those who would see them as adversaries Helena would be divided between love and loyalty to country. It is a strange world, another time entirely in which to be alive but if anyone can play the game and come out on the other side it may be this woman..

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

at the moment none that I can think of but I would adore any and all plotting to create something truly wonderful.

OUT OF CHARACTER INFORMATION.

NAME / ALIAS: eden

AGE: 26

TIMEZONE: est

DISCORD USERNAME: edenzini

#biography : helena #abouthel

4 notes · View notes

roatsww · 6 years ago

Photo

The Crime Of Silence

The Never ending cycle that is precipitated by Child Abuse

For those who may wonder why I refer to it as the “Crime Of Silence” herewith my reasoning:

1. The abusers keep silent about their doings; the only sounds during the events are the screams of the victims, in the aftermath the abusers have no wish to publicise their crimes.

2. The victims keep silent about the pain they suffer, either through their own fear because they feel guilty and that they are themselves responsible for the act, or a fear imposed by the abuser who has threatened an even worse retaliation if the victim ever speaks of it.

3. The witnesses who either see post traumatic evidence of the crime, or listen in to the screams while the crime is being committed, who keep silent for fear of getting involved.

4. The families who witness the crimes who either keep silent because they have been threatened by the perpetrator of the crime, or else they keep quiet for fear of being implicated if the crime should become public.

5. The silence is carried through into adulthood by both the survivors and the perpetrators, because neither the victims nor the perpetrators want the knowledge of the brutality to ever reach the light of day, perpetrators will deny that anything ever happened and victims who fear ostracism keep silent.

I am NOT Responsible, It is NOT MY Fault

I am damaged goods, I will always be damaged goods, I have managed to hide it from the world, and hide it from my outward emotions for nearly half a century, but not any-more. The events of 18 September 2013, and the pursuing events leading up to 22 May 2015, changed my life forever. The terrible events that happened after 22nd May 2015 opened up “Pandora’s box”, and every nightmare that humanity can ever imagine has come out of it, and there is no way to close Pandora’s Box..

What has happened to me is not just one, but a whole series of terrible crimes of brutality, crimes for which the perpetrators will never, ever, be punished, the fact that I am a victim of some of the worst abuses that possibly none of you could ever imagine, is the tragedy behind who and what I am, and I am NOT responsible. It is not my fault, and it never was my fault. Only one of my abusers has ever been sent to prison it took sixteen months to get him sentenced to a term of eighteen months imprisonment of which he served only three on a plea-bargain, and 20 minutes after he was released from prison he had jumped over my back fence again. The Dept. of Correctional Services compounded the abuse by failing to inform me (the victim) about my abuser’s imminent release.

In the sixties and seventies, child abuse was not recognised as a criminal act, neighbours, teachers, and family, basically everyone, walked around with the attitude that if they didn’t see it, then it didn’t happen, and it was best not to get involved. Nobody reported the incessant screams of a child being mercilessly beaten across the neighbouring fence, nobody reported the little boys back and buttocks covered with blue and red stripes, the swollen skin and the cut marks, if it was ignored it would go away, nobody did anything.

Nobody reported the little boy walking the streets at night, because his mother didn’t want him and had locked him out of the house, nobody did anything when the abuse was continued in the school yard, and the children of the schoolyard continued the abuse by mercilessly bullying, teasing and calling the little boy names which he didn’t understand.

I am NOT Responsible, It is NOT MY Fault! I had no idea what was being done to me.

I grew up with animals as my friends, because they were the only place I was ever safe, because of the brutality inflicted on me, I was made into a solitary figure, a loner, who wasn’t accepted anywhere, I am NOT Responsible, It is NOT MY Fault.

As a teenager, discovering my sexual orientation was hard, I couldn’t even look at other boys, if I dared to even glance in the direction of another boy, I was beaten up, so I learned not to look, and there was no experimentation because of the fear, there was no learning, there was only loneliness.

Nobody said anything when a young teenager was dumped in a cow stable at the Klerksdorp show grounds, I had dreamed of being a vet, but nobody said anything, the kids at school who tormented me so mercilessly, didn’t even know that I was homeless, but still going to school, and if the teachers knew, nobody ever said a word, or did anything, In spite of the circumstances, I finished my matric even though it wasn’t good enough to study veterinary medicine.

I was twenty years old when I decided to take the chance and go to a gay club for the first time, it was a fateful decision, as I had no idea that on that night the security police had planned a raid, I won’t name the club, but it was in Hillbrow, I was just dancing with a colored man when the police raided, I was grabbed thrown into a yellow van and taken to John Vorster Square, I was stripped naked, and beaten for what seemed like hours with fists and truncheons, I was kicked until I passed out, some-time in the middle of the night I regained consciousness lying in a pool of my own blood, vomit and piss. The next morning, the cell door was opened, my clothes were thrown in the door, and I was told to get dressed and fuck off, because no charges were being brought. I left John Vorster Square, still a virgin, I had been brutalised for nothing less than that I was in the wrong place, at the wrong time. I learned to fear the police that night.

I was twenty five years old, living with a man who professed to love me, one night he came home after being out with friends, he and a friend were doped up on “smack”, they decided to rape me, but couldn’t get erections, so they broke a beer bottle, and raped me with that, I spent three months in hospital to try and repair the damage, I live and remember the incident every day of my life, because it has changed the way I use the toilet, I will never be the same again.

I met another man two years later, who considered himself a pugilist who didn’t like gloves, the beatings of my childhood became my reality, and set the pattern of my youth, then I met the last man of my youth who took his pleasure in using the words of my father, “You’re nothing but a useless piece of shit you’ll never amount to anything”. The last straw came with these words, “You’re not acceptable to my friends and family as a partner, because you don’t have a degree or a title!” It was the prelude to the first in my series of suicide attempts, which eventually led to my being committed to a psychiatric hospital. At the age of thirty I had to take that momentous decision which led to my living a solitary life, never allowing any man to come near me for almost twenty years.

I am NOT Responsible, It is NOT MY Fault, and I am not to blame that evil people have done terrible things to me, unforgivable things!

In November 2009, the child which I had raised since his birth was taken away from me, because his mother suddenly wanted him, It was the first of the three events which would eventually break me completely. Two years later I had to tell my beloved sister that she was dying of cancer, as her parting gift of love to me, she left me her entire estate, of which the remaining members of my family proceeded to steal half. Then came September 2013 and a little case of murder. I was already broken, I had no resistance and no defences, and so another abuser crept in where I had managed to keep all men out, I ended up falling in love with another man who would abuse me terribly before he was sentenced, and then continue to abuse me from his prison cell, I had no idea that it would lead to my being raped for a second time in my life, by newly released ex-convicts on Friday the 30th of October last year.

And then came the harassment, the threats, the theft, the lies, the promises, being threatened with knives and an axe, the total destruction of my heart and my soul by men who only have evil in their hearts, this past year has been a year of living a nightmare in hell.

I am NOT Responsible, It is NOT MY Fault that my life has been stolen by evil people whose only intent has been to destroy what was born a gentle soul with a big but very soft and vulnerable heart.

My life has been stolen from me, I will never be able to get it back, it has been a journey to hell that has lasted more than half a century, the damage is too great, and nobody could ever fix the terrible damage that has been done to me. But, know this that even if I am damaged goods, and even if I do have to spend the rest of my life in terrible loneliness, I am still a man, and I am still human, I am NOT Responsible, It is NOT MY Fault that terrible people did these things to me which have left me nothing more than a broken windmill in the storm of life.

“There is only one great sin in life,

And that is abuse, brutality, and cruelty, call it what you will –

The Sin of wilfully causing pain and suffering to others,

Without suffering pain yourself.”

(Stuart Cloete)

People have done things to me which are a crime, but I am not alone in what was done to me, there are thousands of other victims of these senseless crimes of abuse, thousands have and are still being abused and brutalised just as I am.

I quote my sister here:

“I understand why that when daddy beat you into absolute submission,

You just lay down and took it,

It was because you had to survive, so that you could get up again and try to live.”

(Rosie)

Article 12(1) of the Constitution directs that all people have the right to not be tortured by any means, and to not be treated in a cruel, inhumane or humiliating manner.

The only thing that has changed over the past half century has been the names and the faces of the abusers, and the methods of torture.

The abusers are businessmen, pastors, and leaders in the communities where they reside, the public do not see them for the monsters that they are, because they cloak their activities so well. The average man/woman on the street sees the abuser as the innocent angel, because abusers mask their evil activities so well.

The courts do nothing, the SAPS tell me that it is my own fault, that I am entirely to blame. Is there any hope whatsoever? On trying to report these crimes to the police I get a standard reply:

“Dis jou eie skuld!”

I am NOT Responsible, It is NOT MY Fault that I am trapped in the never ending cycle that is precipitated by a horrific child abuse that was not of my making. The statistics for suicide amongst the victims of abuse are the highest; as it is the only escape from a never ending nightmare. I have made two attempts in the past year, and have been on the verge of my third attempt in thirteen months, it has only been my fear of failure that has kept me from going over the edge.

Will the cycle of abuse ever stop? Will I be able to endure the loneliness of my nightmares, and the ever present tears on my pillow? I don’t know, all that I do know is that I am NOT Responsible, It is NOT MY Fault, I didn’t do anything wrong to deserve what has happened to me, I had no control over the unnatural acts which were perpetrated against me as a child.

All that I do know is that in doing what they did to me, my father and mother hung a flag over my head announcing that they had created the perfect victim for the crime of silence; they made me a magnet for abusers who seek an easy target they have left me living a life of vulnerability/

I have no answers, only questions, why me and not my sisters or my half brother, why only me? Up until two days ago I used to ask myself what I did wrong, and now I know that I did nothing wrong, I am not responsible and it is not my fault! Will I ever forgive, I don’t know if I could ever forgive any of them for what they have done to me, there’s was a terrible crime, the invisible crime, and given half a chance they keep on doing it to me, it just leaves me with a terrible sadness, a heaviness in my heart, because it never should have happened, and it has left me so scarred that I live in fear of everyone, the scars will never heal.

I ask only one thing of you who read this, if you know or suspect that it is happening to a child some-where, please stand up and do something, before another life is ruined. The crime of silence destroys innocent lives.

No matter what any-one says, it is not only children who are victims of the crime of abuse, and abuse is not necessarily sexual in nature, most abuse is physical through brutal beatings and verbal humiliation. And adults both male and female are victims of abuse, some of which started in childhood and became a never-ending cycle of abuse through to adulthood. The South African Police Service are at fault for not pursuing these crimes, the SAPS especially are at fault, as police officers on the ground are not trained to deal with either the victims or the perpetrators, and they are ignorant of both the criminal procedures act and criminal law. Victims are further victimised by the SAPS.

I have spent the past five days crying, because I have had to finally accept that for the rest of my life I have no choice but to play the game of solitaire, I am a soft target and I am vulnerable because of what my father and my mother did to me as a child. The risk of being abused again is far too great, but I know that locked behind the walls of my house in the silent world where I have only my dogs for company, no human being will be able to hurt me again, the acceptance of my fate is a very hard conclusion to what has been a terrible life lived in fear. I cannot ever again risk another human being getting close to me; the deck of cards is stacked against me. Don’t let it happen to any-one else.

Speak up, speak out against abuse whether it be sexual abuse, the brutality of physical abuse, the humiliation of emotional and mental abuse or extortional abuse, the crime of silence must stop.

17 notes · View notes

random-red-ramblings · 6 years ago

Link

Chapters: 7/? Fandom: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Javert/Jean Valjean Characters: Javert (Les Misérables), Jean Valjean, Cosette Fauchelevent, Toussaint (Les Misérables), Rivette (Les Misérables) Additional Tags: Post-Seine, Javert Lives, Slow Burn, old man virgins, Eventual Porn, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, guys getting through their issues, tentative friendship, Friends to Lovers, Javert using slurs to describe himself, wet dreams, Masturbation Summary:

Javert's moment with the Seine is interrupted but his confusion and uncertainty remain. Life continues to be difficult for him with these new trials of conscience, but perhaps it gets somewhat easier in the presence of a friend.

Friendship is the last thing either of them expected and maybe, in the end, it's a bond that runs far deeper.

Chapter 7

Javert had not made contact with Valjean, or heard from him, in over two months. Javert ran out of reasons why he had not visited - his last letters at the end of November had skirted too close to lying for him to be comfortable maintaining such correspondence. Javert ceased to respond and Valjean eventually stopped writing. Javert had allowed their relationship, whatever it was, to dwindle into nothing.

Autumn ended, Christmas passed and a New Year began. Javert had no care for these dates and no reason to celebrate - he never had done. There was still no sign of Thenardier, which only soured Javert's mood further. He had hoped the blackguard would have attended the execution of his fellows in a sick fascination but Javert and his men had hidden in the crowd and did not catch sight of him.

It was a cold February to reflect his mood and he heard news of the Pontmercy wedding in the form of gossip overheard on his patrols. The lower classes always liked to marvel about the rich, although they often found their misfortune most gripping, sometimes a positive story conjured fantasies they could escape into for a moment. Folly, Javert thought, a beggar woman imagining a Baron might whisk her away and present her a fine white dress. It would only pain them more to open their eyes and see the reality of the hard, wet cobblestones where they resided.

Little did they know it but that was almost precisely what had happened. Not that Cosette was a beggar (Valjean might not ever let him set foot in his home again if Javert said such a thing) but she was an orphan, born with the lowest in society. Perhaps she did not even know she was an orphan, Javert mused; Valjean would want to protect her from all the bad things in the world. She called him ‘Papa’ readily enough, with all the affection it was meant to have.

He considered writing a letter of congratulation to Valjean, but that seemed foolish. What would he be congratulating Valjean for? If he were to send congratulations it would be to the happy couple and he could not bring himself to do that. Time rolled on and the opportunity for such a message passed.

He still saw Valjean in his dreams. They occurred less often now but he still could not manage to get through a week without one. Valjean would whisper how much he had missed him and Javert would apologise with all the care and dedication he could.

Sometimes he thought he saw Valjean when he was out on patrol, but whenever he looked back it always turned out to be someone else. Part of him wished that their paths would cross, that fate would bring them together once more and Javert did not have to choose not to see him. He patrolled Valjean's regular haunts in the hope of catching a glimpse of him but to no avail. He was likely in his daughter’s home, doting over her as always, gaining joy from her happiness. As it should be. Javert had no place in such a life.

The Spring sunshine chased away the winter frost and blossoms bloomed in the Luxembourg. Javert tried to prevent his gaze from lingering on the flowers and the bench on which he had sat with Valjean in the last of the Summer heat. It was as if the last days of April were making an extra effort to inject good cheer into the city but to Javert it only felt as if it were mocking his heavy heart.

“Sir…” Rivette said cautiously as he lingered at the edge of Javert's desk.

“What is it?” Javert snapped.

“Well, I know it's not my business but I was wondering… that gentleman friend of yours… When did you last see him?”

“He is not-” Not a gentleman? Not his friend? “He is not your concern.”

“I used to see him talking to you sometimes that's all.” Rivette continued regardless. “He's that charitable old fellow isn't he? A good man. And… well, I think he's the one who took you in after the barricade- so anyway,” Rivette hurried on before Javert argued, “I saw him yesterday and… He didn't seem quite right, Sir.”

“How do you mean?” Javert leaned towards him, all of the denials on his tongue forgotten.

“He seemed… lost, Sir. Just lingering around Rue Saint Louis. I asked him if he needed any help and he looked so afraid, he said he was sorry, even though I told him he wasn't in any trouble, and he just… ran away.” Rivette frowned at Javert's desk. “I'm just worried for him is all, he seems a good friend to you. It's not my place to make assumptions but he is old and I wondered if he was… quite in his right mind. He seemed awfully vulnerable.”

“That is concerning… Thank you for bringing it to my attention. The amount of money he carries around…” Javert said to justify his concern as a man of the law being concerned for a good citizen and nothing more. “He’ll be an easy target.”

“When was the last time you saw him, Sir? If you don't mind my asking.”

Javert sighed. “It's been months. Four or five months! I will check on him, Rivette. I fear I have been neglectful.”

“I hope he is alright, Sir.”

“Thank you Rivette.”

Javert collected himself and left for Rue des Filles du Calvaire. He hailed a fiacre in his urgency and sat consumed with ideas, each worse than the last, about what could have happened to Valjean. He jumped out of the fiacre as soon as it pulled up, thrust the necessary coins into the driver’s palm, and rapped on the door of Number 6.

He was about to pound his fist on the door again when it opened to reveal a startled looking maid.

“Where is Va-Fauchelevent?” He demanded.

The maid frowned at his rude manner of speaking. “That's Madame or Baroness Pontmercy to you Sir. What is your business here?”

“I am Inspector Javert and I have pressing matters in regards to Monsieur Fauchelevent. He is not here?”

“No, Inspector. Haven't seen him in a long while.”

“Then I must speak with the Baroness.”

“I will fetch her,” the maid inclined her head, motioning for him to step into the hall and closed the door behind him. “Wait here.”

Javert stepped inside and tapped his foot with impatience until Cosette arrived, looking just as anxious and harried as he felt.

“Inspector! Come in, come in!” She ushered him into a lounge, gesturing for him to sit but Javert shook his head.

“Madame-”

Cosette shook her head, aghast. “Oh no, Inspector, please, we are friends. Call me Cosette. I will not have you say all of these silly things like my Papa does. Can you believe he insisted that I call him Monsieur Jean? Monsieur Jean! What is that? It is not even his name! Oh tell me Inspector, how is he? I did not like how he was behaving in his last visits.”

Javert's heart plummeted. Monsieur Jean: the name he should have always possessed and yet Valjean wished it to be spoken by the one person who should have used that most beloved name - Papa - instead.

“And when did you last see him?”

“Oh… It has been weeks! He told Marius that he was going away on a journey.”

“When will he be going?”

“Why, he has already gone! Quite some time ago. Did he not tell you? When did you last see him?”

“My associate saw him on Rue Saint Louis only yesterday.”

“But that is so close! Why is he not here? What is going on Inspector? Where is my father? Please, you must tell me what is happening.”

To see her so distraught reminded Javert of Fantine and of how he had remained cold back then, denying her desire to be reunited with her family. It unnerved him and he risked lightly resting his hand on Cosette’s shoulder. He was different now, there was no doubt. His heart ached for Valjean and for this loving child who had accepted that quiet, kind man so willingly in a way that no one else had. Javert had the power to make things right, to give this woman her father and save Valjean from his martyrdom.

“I will. But your husband must join us so we can see everything clearly.”

“I will fetch him right away,” she said as she hurried from the room.

Javert was more certain than he had been about anything since the barricade. He knew what he must do when he found Valjean and he was sure he knew where to locate him.

Cosette rushed back into the room. “Inspector! What on Earth is going on? Marius tells me I must be mistaken and you cannot be here because you are dead! What is the meaning of this?”

“You,” Javert growled as Marius Appeared behind her. When he had assisted Valjean in returning the boy home after the barricade, he had not recognised him beneath the muck. “You owe me two pistols.”

Marius did not respond, only stared at him, pale and wide-eyed. Javert tutted in frustration.

“Explanations are in order. Sit.”

They obeyed, sitting side by side on the couch.

“But Inspector-” Marius began.

“Enough. You will speak when spoken to. We do not need any more confusion. Now, you will tell me what V- your father has been doing from December until now.”

“We were living how you knew us to - at Rue de l’Homme-Armé.” Cosette said. “He helped organise the wedding, which happened in February.”

“And presented us with Cosette's dowry. A large sum,” Marius added, staring intently at Javert as if he were trying to tell him something else.

“Did he attend the ceremony?”

“Of course! He took me down the aisle but he had injured his arm so could not sign the papers.”

“Did he indeed?” Javert muttered.

“I insisted he visit every day when I came to live here. I wanted him to live with us but he would not have it and…”

“And?”

Cosette frowned at her lap. “He behaved very strangely. He would only receive me in the dusty little basement room. I made sure it was cleaned for him, and as nice as it could be with a fire in the grate and comfortable chairs… But then he started to refuse those things and…” Her eyes sparkled with tears and she paused to collect herself. “And the last time it was just a cold, bare room!”

“And ‘Monsieur Jean’.”

“Oh do not remind me! It is awful!”

“And then he stopped coming altogether. Monsieur Pontmercy,” Javert refused to call him by his ridiculous title, “what did he tell you? That he was going away?”

Marius shifted uncomfortably. “You must understand Inspector, I thought you were dead-”

“And what does that have to do with anything? Speak plainly man!”

“But,” Marius cast a sidelong glance at his wife, “he told me to keep his secret and that Cosette mustn't know.”

“He would keep secrets from me even now,” Cosette whispered to herself. She wiped her eyes. “I won't have it Marius. There are no secrets between us. We need to help him and you will tell me.”

“Very well.” Marius sighed and turned to Javert. “At the barricade Monsieur Fauchelevent took you, the captured spy, away to execute you.”

“Execute!” Cosette cried. “Marius! As if my father could ever do such a thing!”

“Evidently he did not.” Javert interrupted before an argument ensued.

“But how was I to know! Cosette has never mentioned your name, I had not seen you since, and when he told me his story it explained why he would wish an inspector dead. When I questioned him about it he did not deny it! Why would he allow me to believe him to be a murderer?!”

“And believing him to be you stopped him visiting your home.”

“Marius! Tell me you didn't!”

Marius hung his head. “We agreed it was for the best,” he held up his hand before Cosette could interrupt. “You do not know the things he told me, my darling.”

“Then tell me! I told you that he saved your life! What could possibly outweigh the gratitude you should feel for him for that act?”

“I think,” Javert interrupted once more, “that it is your father's story to tell. We shall go to him and hear what he has to say.”

“Oh yes! You know where he is? Can we go at once?” Cosette was already out of her seat but Marius remained frozen, looking terribly anxious.

“Do not worry yourself,” Javert told him. “I already know his story.”

“You do?” Marius frowned in disbelief, likely thinking Javert could not know the whole tale otherwise Valjean would be in the bagne.

“I do. Now come. We will clear this matter up.”

They left immediately and Javert hailed a fiacre. The Pontmercy’s no doubt had their own means of transportation but he did not want to wait for the driver to be summoned and the horses haltered. Javert barked the address and held the door open to hurry Cosette and Marius inside.

Cosette recognised the street they headed towards. “But this is… Inspector, are you telling me my father has been at home this whole time?”

“We will find out.”

keep reading

#les miserables #les mis #valjean #javert #valvert #fic

5 notes · View notes

ebenpink · 5 years ago

Photo

Only Excitement As I Know What Lies Ahead https://ift.tt/2NkCnTO

It’s Monday, everyone! And that means another Primal Blueprint Real Life Story from a Mark’s Daily Apple reader. If you have your own success story and would like to share it with me and the Mark’s Daily Apple community please contact me here. I’ll continue to publish these each Monday as long as they keep coming in. Thank you for reading!

Yup, success stories are back! And I’m looking for more. Follow-ups, mid-progress reflections—every story at every stage has the potential to inspire folks out there who are getting started or contemplating a new beginning. Contact me here to share your story. You never know who you’ll impact by doing it. Enjoy, everyone!

It has been 8 years since the start of our journey so going back to the beginning after so much time has passed will be interesting for me.

My weight issues didn’t start until my mid-20s. Within a 5 month time period I went from an an active job to a completely sedentary one, got pregnant, and quit smoking. It was the perfect storm. My diet was horrendous. At my active job I routinely ate doughnuts and chocolate milk for breakfast, lunch was a smoke break and Surge soda, supper was fast food (a favorite was a double Whopper meal from Burger King) or a *home cooked* (that meant stuff out of boxes and cans most nights) dinner consisting of a meat and carb heavy sides. My youthful metabolism allowed me to eat what I wanted without gaining weight though I had no idea of the unseen damage I was doing to my body. My husband was holding his own as well with basically the same diet.

After starting my new job I immediately gained about 10 pounds. I don’t even remember really worrying about it—just went out and bought bigger clothes with some abstract idea that, surely, this was an anomaly and I’d miraculously wake up one day thin again. I was blessed enough during my pregnancy to not have any measurable morning sickness but I had a wicked and unending craving for ice cream. I don’t even want to know how much money Dairy Queen made off of me during that time period. The end result was that after our child was born I was carrying nearly 180 pounds on my 5′ 4″ frame.

Again, caught up in this whole new baby business and not really having any true understanding of weight gain, I still thought it would work itself out in time. I continued to wear my maternity clothes for WAY too long because I didn’t want to spend money on a larger sized wardrobe when this fatness was only temporary. It amuses me now to think that I had zero idea or plan of how to fix it—as if I were just a passive bystander who had no control over the outcome and could only wait and see.

I did eventually decide to join Weight Watchers, convinced that a few months of following the program would divest my body of the approximately 50 extra pounds it was carrying. I started at 177 pounds and s.l.o.w.l.y. reached the first milestone loss of 10%. And 160 pounds—give or take 5 pounds—is exactly where I sat for the next decade.

During that time, we’d decided that we did not want our daughter raised to eat the same crap diet we had so we overhauled our eating habits. We had oatmeal in the mornings, whole wheat bread sandwiches with low fat mayonnaise for lunch, dinner was chicken breasts or ground turkey patties with brown rice and a vegetable—all of the *healthy* stuff that guaranteed I’d drop the extra weight like a hot potato.

Except I didn’t. Over the years we had 2 more kids. Because I started out those pregnancies already overweight I managed to only gain *baby weight* so after each birth I hadn’t gained any extra…but that was little consolation since the scale was still sitting at around 160. I’d pretty much resigned myself to the idea that this was just how it was going to be. I was a married mom and married moms just aren’t young and thin anymore. CLEARLY my body liked being at 160 and I needed to accept that and move on with my new plus sized life.

By the time our third and last child was born in 2009, my husband had managed to put on about the same amount of weight that I had. We both were sitting at about 40 pounds over our wedding day weight. We would periodically comment on our own weight gain but never mentioned the other’s. I wasn’t concerned about his and he didn’t seem concerned about mine so we just sort of settled into our fat and happy family life.

The turning point came in November 2010. My husband and I had gone out to eat for our anniversary and, having gone to Marble Slab for dessert, were sitting on the bench outside the shop eating our ice cream when he said those fateful words. “We’ve gotten fat. And I’m not happy.” The blood roared in my ears as I sat there in shock, trying to digest what he’d said (along with my Sweet Cream with M&Ms). I thought, “Did he just call me fat?” Nevermind that I WAS fat…hearing those words come out of the mouth of the person you love more than life itself is still a punch in the gut. The only thing that kept me from dissolving into tears was that whole *we* part. That one little word allowed me to move past the trauma in a matter of seconds and look at it objectively.

“Ok. I’m not really happy either but I’m not sure what to do about it. I feel like I’ve tried everything and nothing has worked.”

“Maybe it’s a matter of motivation. Next year is our 15th anniversary. Let’s plan a big trip to somewhere exotic and use that. We have a year to get ourselves into shape.”

I was equal parts excited and terrified about what lay ahead. I knew now that my weight DID bother him and that did more than anything to change my mental state from *I can’t* to *I have to and I want to*. But I had so many years under my belt of making changes and trying different (many times unpleasant) things that left me no better off than before that I just didn’t see how I could accomplish this.

We spent the first few months of 2011 planning and booking our vacation to the Virgin Islands, haphazardly trying to fit workouts into our schedule, and not ordering Dominos for supper. We weren’t seeing any progress and each month we lost out of our 1 year timeline caused me to panic a little bit more that this problem was just unfixable and I was going to let him down in the end.

That’s about when I started hearing about this thing called Paleo and a guy named Mark Sisson. On a completely unrelated forum I belong to, people were starting to discuss it in depth and sharing their experiences. It seemed crazy to me that people could A) willingly give up the foods I loved so much and B) achieve drastic results from it. The other diets I’d tried over the years all centered around counting calories and fat grams, weighing and measuring every bite, trying to acclimate yourself to being hungry all the time, having to arrange your day to be able to eat every 2-3 hours to *keep your blood sugar up* and *fire up your metabolism*. Paleo, in spite of the loss of my beloved bread, seemed so…..freeing.

I laid out the basics of it for him, shared success stories, and although he was as skeptical as I was, he was fully on board to try this crazy new thing.

We jumped into it in May and, after the first couple of weeks where our bodies were trying to adjust to the absence of sugar, were amazed at how GREAT we felt! I’d been having constant brain fog and exhaustion and my wrists always hurt and I’d started having heartburn after almost every meal. All gone. Along with a steady loss of 5 pounds a month for each of us. For the first time in about 10 years I was losing weight! AND IT WAS EFFORTLESS!!!

By the time November and our anniversary trip rolled around we each had lost 30 pounds. We went on to lose 35 pounds each total then settled into maintenance.

Two years ago, Hurricane Harvey hit our area and flooded our home. This was actually the second time in 9 years as we flooded in Ike in 2008 but Ike was before our Paleo journey. Having our home in disrepair for over a year caused us to get REALLY lax with our eating. Convenience was the word of the day and not having a functional kitchen meant we were eating almost catch as catch can. We started having fast food again and even the meals I was able to cook at home trended towards the quick and easy and were based around which cooking apparatuses I had available to use at any given time. As expected, weight started to creep back on.

As of today, we have each gained back 10 of the pounds we’d lost. We have a fully functioning kitchen again and just had a conversation about how we KNOW what we need to do. We KNOW what works. We have the ace up our sleeves and it’s time to toss that sucker on the table and get back to the lifestyle that changed our lives so many years ago. There is no terror this time. No worrying that it’s going to be just another diet I fail at and I won’t have any success. This time, there is only excitement as I know what lies ahead—a healthier, more energetic, thinner, and happier us.

Tiffany (and Wes) Bailey

Have a story to share? Email me here. Thanks, everybody, and have a great week.

The post Only Excitement As I Know What Lies Ahead appeared first on Mark's Daily Apple.

from Mark's Daily Apple https://ift.tt/2NjCC1H via IFTTT https://ift.tt/2JF13VL

#IFTTT #Blogger

0 notes

jesseneufeld · 5 years ago

Text

Only Excitement As I Know What Lies Ahead

It has been 8 years since the start of our journey so going back to the beginning after so much time has passed will be interesting for me.

“Ok. I’m not really happy either but I’m not sure what to do about it. I feel like I’ve tried everything and nothing has worked.”

“Maybe it’s a matter of motivation. Next year is our 15th anniversary. Let’s plan a big trip to somewhere exotic and use that. We have a year to get ourselves into shape.”

I laid out the basics of it for him, shared success stories, and although he was as skeptical as I was, he was fully on board to try this crazy new thing.

By the time November and our anniversary trip rolled around we each had lost 30 pounds. We went on to lose 35 pounds each total then settled into maintenance.

Tiffany (and Wes) Bailey

Have a story to share? Email me here. Thanks, everybody, and have a great week.

(function($) { $("#dfAz5IP").load("https://www.marksdailyapple.com/wp-admin/admin-ajax.php?action=dfads_ajax_load_ads&groups=674&limit=1&orderby=random&order=ASC&container_id=&container_html=none&container_class=&ad_html=div&ad_class=&callback_function=&return_javascript=0&_block_id=dfAz5IP" ); })( jQuery );

window.onload=function(){ga('send', { hitType: 'event', eventCategory: 'Ad Impression', eventAction: '89762' });}

The post Only Excitement As I Know What Lies Ahead appeared first on Mark's Daily Apple.

Only Excitement As I Know What Lies Ahead published first on https://drugaddictionsrehab.tumblr.com/

0 notes

lauramalchowblog · 5 years ago

Text

Only Excitement As I Know What Lies Ahead

It has been 8 years since the start of our journey so going back to the beginning after so much time has passed will be interesting for me.

“Ok. I’m not really happy either but I’m not sure what to do about it. I feel like I’ve tried everything and nothing has worked.”

“Maybe it’s a matter of motivation. Next year is our 15th anniversary. Let’s plan a big trip to somewhere exotic and use that. We have a year to get ourselves into shape.”

I laid out the basics of it for him, shared success stories, and although he was as skeptical as I was, he was fully on board to try this crazy new thing.

By the time November and our anniversary trip rolled around we each had lost 30 pounds. We went on to lose 35 pounds each total then settled into maintenance.

Tiffany (and Wes) Bailey

Have a story to share? Email me here. Thanks, everybody, and have a great week.

(function($) { $("#dfLEg4m").load("https://www.marksdailyapple.com/wp-admin/admin-ajax.php?action=dfads_ajax_load_ads&groups=674&limit=1&orderby=random&order=ASC&container_id=&container_html=none&container_class=&ad_html=div&ad_class=&callback_function=&return_javascript=0&_block_id=dfLEg4m" ); })( jQuery );

window.onload=function(){ga('send', { hitType: 'event', eventCategory: 'Ad Impression', eventAction: '66572' });}

The post Only Excitement As I Know What Lies Ahead appeared first on Mark's Daily Apple.

Only Excitement As I Know What Lies Ahead published first on https://venabeahan.tumblr.com

0 notes

cellerityweb · 6 years ago

Text

Assassin’s Creed Odyssey’s Season Pass content revealed

We’re pretty sure there are a lot of players out there who’re already through the whole Assassin’s Creed Odyssey experience. If not, that’s okay as well, who’d say no to post-launch content that delivers interesting and new spins to the original game? Nobody, right! Check out what to expect from the Assassin’s Creed Odyssey Season Pass. Among other things, we can tell you Atlantis is calling.

Last year, Ubisoft made clear they’ve spent a huge amount of time and energy to question players experience of the biggest brand they have to offer, the beloved Assassin’s Creed franchise, born in 2007. Assassin’s Creed Origins, the seventh main part of the series, offered a plethora of innovations. A completely new combat system, one could say borrowed from the Dark Souls series, and a pleasing and fresh RPG focus. What is the most logical thing to do? Expand and improve this experience. That’s exactly what Ubisoft Quebec did with Assassin’s Creed Odyssey, which is based on Greek mythology. Now, on 14 November 2018, Ubisoft revealed what to expect post-launch, and let’s say it’s like that: the last time we’re really thrilled to dive into the additional content of a Assassin’s Creed was… oh right, never. However, this is about to change, you’re welcome to find out why below.

Check out the full list of post-launch content Ubisoft has revealed:

2 new major story arcs each with 3 downloadable episodes:

– Legacy of the First Blade – Fight alongside the legend who first wielded the Hidden Blade to change the course of history while learning why the Assassins chose to fight from the shadows. Launching December 2018, with episodes releasing once every six weeks*.

– The Fate of Atlantis – Get closer to Greek mythology and the First civilization. Confront godly creatures and uncover the secrets of the legendary sunken city. Slated for launch in Spring 2019 with six week episodic release.*

– Assassin’s Creed III REMASTERED including Assassin’s Creed Liberation REMASTERED. Launching March 2019*

To gain access to all of the above, players will need to own the Assassin’s Creed Odyssey Season Pass, which is included in Assassin’s Creed Odyssey Gold, Ultimate, Spartan and Pantheon Editions. Also available to purchase separately alongside the Assassin’s Creed Odyssey Standard Edition game.

Free Post-Launch content:

Story-driven quests:

– The Lost Tales of Greece – Meet new faces, catch up with old friends, and cross swords with monstrous foes in self-contained questlines. The Lost Tales of Greece will release regularly in-between DLC episodes, providing a constant flow of new stories for players to discover.

Recurring in-game events:

– Epic Ships & Mercenaries – Each week, a new epic ship or mercenary will appear, offering you challenging battles as you hunt down those powerful enemies.

– Daily & Weekly Contracts – Complete those quests across Greece, rewarding you with a special currency to be spent at the Oikos of the Olympians merchant to acquire rare and exotic gear.

According to Ubisoft, there is even more on the horizon. If there’s any update, we’ll let you know.

Here’s the full Trailer including all post-launch content:

youtube

The post Assassin’s Creed Odyssey’s Season Pass content revealed appeared first on Making Games.

Assassin’s Creed Odyssey’s Season Pass content revealed published first on https://thetruthspypage.tumblr.com/

0 notes