#Dead Poisson

[kuijoon]

AU where everything is the same except Sampo is one of those cryptids from the back alley. The ones who mimic people living there (and probably kill them)

[reno-matago]

French Folklore: ''Nicole Fish''

The Devil as an animal

'' Fishermen are exposed to beings who, under the appearance of large fish, are in reality incarnations of the Devil, or the dead.

Before we had exorcised the one whom the people of the bay of Saint-Malo call Nicole, who for them is sometimes the demon himself, sometimes a severe fisheries guard, sometimes a wicked fisherman who obtained from the Devil, his deathbed, the power to transform himself in this way to torment his former companions. It showed itself as well near rocks as on the shoals.''

The Devil as an animal - The Devil's Gospels, Claude Seignolle.

[amyriadofleaves]

outside it starts to pour — neuvillette | chapter one

synopsis: in the limelight of fontaine, the prying eyes of its people never truly tears their gaze off the iudex and you, the présidence du conseil d'état, which makes for baseless rumours to fester and echo throughout the theatrics of opera. you and neuvillette are challenged by the reputations the both of you are expected to uphold, and the weighty decision to navigate these intricacies rests upon the discerning judgement of fontaine's archon.

{ nav } ; { next }

ao3 : wattpad  ˚　.˚　

⌗ pairing : neuvillette x fem!reader ⌗ feat : neuvillette, reader, clorinde ⌗ warnings : n/a ⌗ word count: 4.0k

 ‘EVIDENCE REPORT | POISSON: 43 DEAD, 5 INJURED.’

To savour tea is to indulge. As your lips leave the cold porcelain teacup in hand, you wave your advisor away, leaving you subject to yourself and your thoughts alone. In the quiet aftermath, you willingly embrace the thoughts that fester alone—an intricate tapestry of reflections, good or bad. The shaky sigh that leaves your lips is a limbo between exhaustion and, as much as you despise it, the unwelcome embrace of fear. Your calm, yet frantic eyes skim over the report countless times before noting the words in bold:

NOT TO BE DISCLOSED TO THE PUBLIC UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE. 

Brows knitted, you question the odd desperation at keeping this case classified. But more thought brings you to the conclusion that this is somewhat justifiable; from the moment you stepped into Fontaine, you learned that to rub a Fontainian the wrong way was to critique their favourite opera—or rather, denounce their perception of it.

With another sip of your tea, your hands hover above the prompt for your signature glaring at you on the final page. You don't fail to notice that you aren’t the sole bearer of this matter but instead, share the weight of it with your co-worker, the Iudex himself. You can't help but scoff. It undoubtedly comes as a surprise for you; this isn’t something within his area of expertise. He can certainly provide his input on it, sure, but any measures taken in terms of Fontaine’s state of affairs are your call. Whatever it is, you are already hot on your heels, the thud of your boots muffled by the awfully grandeur carpet that graces the marble floors of Palais Mermonia. Though not entirely focused on the world around you, you certainly are not unaware of the whispers and hushes that arise in your wake. You pay it no mind. Someone of your calibre is sure to be a topic of conversation; it is undeniable that it flatters you, despite how annoying it may be on the ears.

You rap the door to the Iudex’s office once—then twice—to no avail. Feeling a light tap at your hip, you look down to find a recognisable face staring up at you with curious eyes.

“Why, if it isn’t Sedene!” you tease. If the melusine notices the slight quiver in your voice, she doesn’t question it. At the met silence, you let out an airy chuckle. “Is something the matter?”

At your voice, Sedene's expression relaxes. “If you’re looking for your Iudex, I’m afraid he’s in the Opera Epiclese tending to another matter,” You can’t help but feel your smile unwillingly falter upon knowing of his absence. He is your partner in arms for this case, and if others see to it that he is needed, then it is in your duty to oblige, no matter how nauseating the idea of it is.

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” Bringing the report up to your face, you try to compose yourself and shield your expression from the melusine’s line of sight.

This effort would prove to be futile in the moments that follow.

Sedene reaches up to drag the report from blocking her field of view. You know she despises the idea of being too short and having others take advantage of it, but you are mindful of the emotions crossing your face. With your bubbling rage at the Chief Justice’s involvement, you find that it takes a little longer to press your lips into a fine line and convince yourself that you have to either suck it up or take matters into your hands (by this point, you are extremely unsure which option you'd delight yourself to).

A soft paw-like hand begins to slyly wrap around your wrist. In an instant, your arm becomes captive to the ceaseless tugs of Sedene, who is jumping up and down in elation at her newfound revelation. “Oh! Oh! Sigewinne told me that expressions where smiles are replaced with frowns are signs of disappointment or sadness, or possibly both! So, this must mean that you are deeply disturbed by the idea of Monsieur Neuvillette being far, far away from you!”

The curiosity of Melusines never fails to amaze you.

You bring a hand to her mouth to prevent her from babbling any further. “Oh... hahaha… Aren't you a silly one! My dear Sedene, I’m afraid you've misinterpreted the means of my change of expression! I’m just concerned that his absence might delay the progress we shall very surely make in this situation—though, I certainly cannot disclose it because this is very, very, classified business.”

Noting the puzzled look she gives in response, you pat her head, albeit robotically, and fan yourself with the loose fabric of your blouse for composure’s sake. No one can see the head of Fontaine’s civil affairs under such humiliating circumstances. Confusion swirls when the unwanted heat begins to bloom from your neck up. What is up with you? You hastily bring your cold palms to the apples of your cheeks in a desperate attempt to quell the embarrassment that betrays your professional front. An incandescent blue shines brightly on the fabric of your coat, but that is purely your cryo vision working its magic. Ah, the wonders of Celestia are both a blessing and a curse indeed. 

Gingerly, you reach for the report secured under your arm. Your eyes ghost over his name unwillingly, and your nails have begun to dig into the lace of your glove; why does every decision end in his verdict? Do people not understand that his verdicts work only in the Opera Epiclese and yours—more just and logical—work in every other predicament that slips through the cracks?

Deciding to indulge in the idea of having time to yourself, you stride to your office with wavering confidence and slam the door behind you, back pressed against the wooden frame. Closing your eyes for a brief moment, the familiar patter of rainfall cascading down the stained glass windows of your office brings you a sense of comfort because at least there is something—or rather someone, out there who shares the weight of your burdens.

How you itch to search for whoever it is.

Snapping yourself out of your stupor, you force yourself to return to work; there are urgent matters to attend to. Thoroughly giving the report a once-over, you call in a subordinate.

Whether it is the weather or your own gloomy mood, the sluggish pace of whoever is to arrive at your door has you incensed beyond measure. When the foolish boy finally decides to show up, a headache begins to fester like a miasma from your right eye to your left temple. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you decide to keep the conversation short and concise.

“I expect emergency personnel to be stationed in Poisson by the end of today.”

The subordinate, whom you've come to learn is named Iaune, fiddles with his uniform. “But Madame, we lack approval from the Iudex—”

You bring a hand to your desk. “This is an order from me as your superior. The Iudex has proved his lateness in acting on this matter, and so I will be taking it from here.” At your glare directed towards Iaune, he nods profusely and scurries away, slamming the door a little too loudly, sending your migraine into full swing.

You aren't a supernatural being, and with the blurring of shapes and fatigue, accompanied by lidded eyes, it calls for a power nap. Slumping against the plush pillows of a leather couch that sits to the right of your office, you bring your hands to your abdomen and greet rest with open arms.

It is long past midnight when you come to.

Oh, no, no, no.

In a panic, you sit up to find a velvet coat slipping off your shoulders and onto your lap. You fight against the blur of your eyesight to study the fabric. The blazer is a brilliant Oxford blue, its lapels a blur between turquoise and cerulean lined with plates of gold. You feel at the fabric in curiosity; if not for your sleep-induced daze, you would notice that this very blazer belonged to Monsieur Neuvillette himself. Instead, you fold it over the back of a chair. With the paperwork in hand, you set yourself to his office.

One good thing to take away from this is how the migraine that had plagued you for the last half hour you were awake has now softened to a dull throb. You scan the palais for any sign of Segene, and… nothing. The same goes for everyone else really — your steps echo hollowly, and the stirs of gossip dwindle in the truancy of common folk. There is only one thing that brings you comfort and unease concurrently: the likely presence of the Chief Justice behind this door.

A gentle knock is what it takes to garner a muffled 'come in,' from the Chief Justice. Pushing the door open with your free hand, you are greeted with a grandiose office and the man you dread sitting at his desk.

You decide to skip the formalities and cut straight to the chase. "Monsieur, I am afraid that the prophecy is beginning to manifest itself in every corner of Fontaine. For this case, the spotlight lands on Poisson," you say, with a monotonous baritone that betrays nothing.

His ivory eyes widen a fraction, and he brings his fist to his mouth to stifle a cough. "So what I heard word of on the streets wasn't just paranoid drabble…" You can't help but feel your lower lid twitch.

"Well, word had it that you were too busy tending to business in the Opera Epiclese to officially hear it from the professional herself."

A gentle smile plays on his lips. "Very well then. Enlighten me." His gaze is imploring, almost expecting. With a sigh, you lay the report in front of him. You entertain yourself with an extra addition to your resume: experience in coddling the Iudex of Fontaine.

"Is there any reason as to why you lack any paperwork regarding this matter, monsieur?"

"I’d assume it was because of my preoccupation that they sought for you in my stead." With a deft movement of his wrist, two cups materialise as if conjured, a gentle azure glow tracing from his fingertips to the base of the cups. "Care for a drink?"

Crossing your arms, you can't help but order him around a little. "I’d prefer a seat, thank you very much."

He nods his head in complicity. "Oh dear me, my dearest apologies," and with a slight bow of his free hand, you find a chair at the very base of your ankles.

Easing into the seat—or should you say couch—is the easiest thing you've done today. Goodness, when was the last time you had a good night's rest? "Go ahead, you're free to read the report," you declare, the wave of your hand prodding him further. Fancying yourself a drink, you furtively take the cup of water he'd left on the edge of his desk.

To cure yourself of your boredom, you take to observing his mannerisms. A slight grimace, a squint of an eye—the look of surprise when he skims over the last page. Without preamble, he reaches for his quill, and you can't help but descry the way the ink dances across the page.

Once he hands the paperwork to you, you bow your head and turn on your heel to take your leave. The strained silence that hangs is broken with a chuckle from the Iudex. “I’d just like to inform you of your eligibility for trial at the Opera Epiclese.”

You hope he doesn’t catch the hiccup in your step. “I’m afraid I don’t follow, Chief Justice.” Back still facing him.

“Forgive me, Mademoiselle, but deploying personnel to Poisson without due consideration and an unsigned contract jeopardises not only the trust vested in our organisation by the public but also compromises the confidentiality integral to this matter.”

You couldn't help but feel your lips tug into a smirk. “I put full trust in your intelligence to excuse your greatest asset from the scrutiny of your judgement. What I did is justifiable and is justified, Monsieur Neuvillette ,” His name leaves your lips like the slice of skin against a blade.

“Oh? And by the word of whom, exactly?”

“Have you forgotten? I, too, have held your position alongside my name in your absence. I represented the word of the law, I wrote the books, and I am just. I am my own judge. Could you say the same for yourself, oh dear Chief Justice of Fontaine?”

____

IS THE END REALLY NIGH? WILL THE ARCHON ACT?

Clutching a newspaper in hand, diving into the inked sea of critiques and snark, you surf the waves of public disdain for the Hydro Archon herself. Albeit insensitive, the fiery opinions ignite the page, and you can't help but catch the raging tide of anger swelling through the populace. Welcome to the storm of public sentiment.

Despite the exaggerated theatrics of Fontainians, you developed a sense of indifference, your reactions reduced to a mere scoff. The overblown antics fail to provoke any genuine response, leaving you detached from the flamboyant displays of folly that had once captivated your attention.

Clorinde’s abrupt snaps bring you back from your reverie, and only then did you notice the newspaper in your hands, crumpled from your unwittingly tight grip during your trance.

“Earth to you? Now’s not the time to loiter around,” says the raven haired woman standing with arms crossed, a playful glint in her eyes contrasting the familiar tone of the champion duelist you’d grown a soft spot for.

You swat her away with the newspaper as one would a fly and laugh. “As the Head of Civil Affairs, I, too, deserve a break from all the buzz.” Stealing a sympathetic glance at the tabloid in hand, you sigh in defeat at the fact that you never truly can escape the ‘buzz’.

“God, how often have you been burning the midnight oil? I presume my boss hasn’t been too harsh, surely?” Clorinde implores; you had grown to notice that she’d pop a question whenever conversation grew dire — adeptly quenching her curiosity while addressing the pressing matter at hand, a skillful act of killing two birds with one stone.

Letting her in on such affairs wouldn’t hurt a soul, it seemed. And so you decide to amuse her a little. “If you mean ‘harsh’ as in pampering me, then yes.”

At the duelist’s raised brow, you stop abruptly. “I — uh, my, have I said something wrong?”

“No, not at all. Go on,” she waves a hand, prodding you further.

“Alright then. Where do I start — he’s an odd one, that man. His demeanour is different in both office and in court, as expected of someone of such prowess — and of course, he is expected to act by status quo. But over these past few days, I’d been greeted with nothing but candour from him — almost as if he’s… compensating for something,” You make a calculated decision to skirt over details as to why this might be. Sure, you have your speculations, but no conclusion you came to was concrete.

Clorinde makes a face. 

“This is the second time you’ve given me that look. Tell me what’s wrong or I’ll tickle you.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard of him going so far as to pamper someone as you say he has to you, let alone seen it with my own eyes.”

“Maybe it’s because you’re rarely at the palais,” you deadpan.

She considers this with a thoughtful silence. “Perhaps, for once, you are correct.”

“I’m wounded that you underestimate me so greatly, Champion Duelist of Fontaine,” you feigned a damsel in distress, eyes shut in faux consternation.

The town clock strikes twelve, its ring echoing throughout the city, and the sun seems to show brighter.

Gently patting Clorinde’s shoulder, a nervous expression plays on your face. “Nevermind that! As much as I absolutely adore the cool breeze of the autumn air, I’m afraid there are to be more problems than there are solutions if this” — you gently wave the now rolled scroll of paper in your hand — “isn’t settled.”

“Didn’t expect you to grow so accustomed to your new job, young woman,” A smile seldom seen manages to creep up and tug on the fine lines of Clorinde’s lips. 

Merely shrugging, you return her smile. “What can I say, it is me we’re talking about, I pretty much am the adapter of all — consider me an otter in all its glory.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“I’ll have you know that I am greeted with a soft mattress and plush pillows.”

Turning on your heel, you are met with a feathery wall of sorts. With horror, it dawns on you that this was undoubtedly not the type of ‘pillow’ you had in mind; this was no wall, this was someone’s chest.

This elicits a snort from the duelist.

There you are, standing merely centimetres away from the Iudex of Fontaine. Oh my God. You felt a growing flush rise up to your cheeks. Call it public humiliation, call it pride — but you simply cannot stand the image of your flustered self plastered on the tabloids all around the city. It had happened once, and you were certain it would be the last. The blame falls on Charlotte, of course, always nosing in on everyone’s business.

Almost in shock, you take a slow step back — in which the tap of your heel against cement echoes your humiliation, and you can’t help but grimace.

Through gritted teeth, you can only muster a pitiful: ‘Pleasure meeting you here, Monsieur…’ Despite the shakiness in your voice, it is hidden by the authoritative cadence you’d grown accustomed to during your time as the head of civil affairs. If it isn’t for your lowered gaze, you would notice the smile that ghosts over his face. But instead, in a frantic effort to maintain composure, you put on a brave face and take everything at face value, saving the impending embarrassment for later.

For a brief second you wondered how easier things would be if everything went in your favour.

“Good afternoon to you both,” The usual baritone of his voice sounds awfully frail. How odd. Another odd thing was how underdressed he appeared to be — his customary coat he wears in court nowhere to be found on his person. Both of you decide not to question it.

The two of you return the pleasantry with a stunned greeting.

She then offers the roll of paper to the Iudex. “I suggest you take a read. It won’t be long before everyone begins to question the acts of our archon.”

“I will take this into consideration. All actions in order to quell this matter are strictly confidential, Madame Clorinde, so I’m afraid I cannot disclose our methods with you at this moment.” At the word ‘our’, he gives you a side glance, perhaps in mocking, or perhaps in courtesy out of the goodness of his heart. At the thought of the latter, you drop the idea entirely, and entertain yourself with the more likely option — to which you can’t help but scowl.

“I shall take my leave, Chief Justice. Send my regards to Lady Furina for me, won’t you? I haven’t seen that walking chatterbox in a while,” She then levels her gaze to yours and winks. “See you in a bit, chenapan .” 

“Ta-ta,” Rolling your eyes, you dismiss her with a curt gesture. You can’t help but feel your heart slightly drop; it is inevitable that you will miss her — and as much as you hate it, there is a gnawing inkling that you won’t be seeing her for a while. No one warned you of how being the head of such a department would come with such responsibilities. Yet, the prospect of covering for the Iudex was even more burdensome.

The Iudex’s eyes follow her every move, and when she is finally out of his line of sight, he turns to you. “Which reminds me… I have arranged a meeting with Lady Furina, where you, the Présidence du Conseil d'État, are cordially invited.” 

Your brows knit. "And what's my role here? You have more sway with her than I do," Would it be blasphemous to say your opinion on your archon was a mixed bag? Sure, she was the archon of the land of your birth, but to say she brought you any semblance of reverence was a fruitless attempt at grasping at straws. The archon's influence over Fontaine remained an enigma, a puzzle you couldn't quite decipher. Unable to pinpoint why her dominance over Fontaine seemed a façade, you had kept the opinion to yourself and bit your tongue instead.

“Madame, I mean not to offend. You are not only my esteemed partner in arms but also possess a wealth of experience in this field that far surpasses my own. It is only appropriate that you take the lead as the principal force in this case,” Neuvillette interjects, his words attempting to bridge the gap of doubt. At your indifference, his jaw hands a little ajar, contemplating more ways on how to convince you with his flowery prose. 

“I beg for you to stop being so stubborn — this is all for the betterment of Fontaine. Please, let's find common ground and work together for the city's sake,” How flowery indeed.

You feel for the lace hem of your skirt and squeeze hard — you cannot lash out in public. “Me? Stubborn? I am promoted to being the Présidence du Conseil d'État, and suddenly all the world’s burdens fall upon my shoulders! Where is Lady Furina? What exactly has that woman done for the people?” What have you done? Your voice renders itself to a whisper in fear that Celestia above might hear your words of blasphemy. Challenge me, then. I dare you. 

Spite for the Iudex had been growing since his absence on the very day that news of Poisson had broken out. Maybe it was the comment he had made that night, or the way he had acted as if nothing happened, or how instead of an apology, he had opted to pampering you as if you were his plaything. The morning of, you had noticed that it was indeed Monsieur Neuvillette’s coat that had been draped over your shoulders, but you couldn’t bring yourself to push your pride aside and acquiesce into returning it. 

The sun’s rays seem to dim at your brewing anger, followed by the familiar patter of drizzle. Instinctively, you reach for your parasol, only for you to find that you had left it in your apartment. “Oh how lucky I am! The one time I leave my umbrella at home is when it starts raining!”

Neuvillette shifts in demeanour; he takes on a more softened look, hardened eyes now a confusion of regret and sympathy. “My… apologies. This inconvenience has caused you much distress.” Gloved hands reach for his own parasol, and you observe his every action with scrutiny. One can only imagine the look on your face when he opens his parasol, shielding you from the rain that has grown more fervent.

You push the hand holding the parasol away. “I am in no need of your pity, monsieur.” And when the reassuring shade leaves you, the rain seems to cascade with an indescribable ardour — to which you pay no mind; you don’t want the public to misconstrue your relationship with the Iudex.

“...And postpone the meeting for tomorrow. I have… matters to attend to.” Picking up your pace, you leave Neuvillette standing alone, a solitary figure in the midst of the sombre downpour.

a/n : dude I srsly dk how to navigate Tumblr but pls leave your thoughts on this and whether you wanna b tagged when I post my next chapter! im more active on my ao3 but ill probably start using Tumblr more often now!!

[draclula]

“Magic and Desserts” lyney x f!reader

chapter 1

Summary: as Lyney is coming back from Caesar’s grave he hears something.

author’s note: the explanation is very vague but bear with me 🙏😭

word count: 1.1k

It was a late afternoon, Lyney had visited Caesar’s grave and was nearing the outskirts of Poisson. The scenery was quite nice. Birds were chirping, the sun was shining low near the horizon and the sky was warm orange tone. Everything was nice until.. he heard something. 

A blood curdling scream and the sound of monsters nearby. Lyney ran to see what was happening. When he peered above the hill he saw the figure of a girl in her late teens that was struggling to sho away 3 hilichurls. He quickly drew out his bow and shouted “I will shoot them don’t move too much!”. You were crouching near a hazelnut tree, holding a thick branch in your hands that was somewhere near a meter. The hilichuls looked behind them to face the magician and that was your chance to slip away. He shot one of them in the head causing it to fall backwards dead. The other two monsters charged at Lyney, who was slowly taking some steps back *phew* another arrow was launched and killed the second hilichurl. And just when the third one  was about to hit him *bonk* the monster laid unconscious on the ground. You have hit him with that thick branch of yours. “Are you alright?” you shakily asked. “Yes, are YOU alright?” he dropped his bow on the ground as he tried to keep you from falling on the ground. “I am fine, it’s…. the adrenaline..” you said trying to collect yourself from what just happened “ I’ve never done this before hah..” you smiled at him panting. 

Lyney escorted you to your house in Poisson makeing sure everything was really okay before leaving you. “Please wait here for a moment.” you asked him and quickly ran inside your house. He stood there a as you walked back to him. “Here, a ‘Thank you’ present for saving me.” you said, handing him a lemon dessert. He looked stun for a moment and said “Oh no, please I couldn’t possibly take this!” “I insist. You save me from those hilichurls, Archons know what could have happened to me if you weren’t there! So please, take it.” you replied with a determined frown on your face. Lyney signed “Well I guess they’re really isn’t telling you ‘no’ then, but only if you do me a favour.” you cocked your head. “I want to see your smile.”. He smirked a bit after seeing your flushed face. “M-my smile?” you stuttered “Yes, as if you saw something very dear to you!” he instructed lightly. You lowered your gaze, seemingly spacing out a bit, before a soft smile appeared. “There it is! A young lady’s most powerful weapon is her smile, so please smile more.” His kind words were something else, but right when he was about to slip out. “Mister! Your lemon dessert!” “Nothing really escapes your eyes, huh.”.

“Freminet! Do you know where Lynette is?” Lyney asked his brother “I thinks she said she was going to the café. Didn’t she tell you?” Well she did but her dear twin was busy with training some new card tricks and couldn’t hear a thing. “Thank you!” He shouted and ran out, not hearing his question.

He was looking over at the tables to find Lynette which was honestly not so hard, but there was someone familiar near her. 

“Sooo what do you think of this chocolate chalk dessert?” “Mmmm, it’s not too bad, you said that this recipe was from Sumeru, yeah?” “‘Too bad’?! What do you mean by that!” Lynette was talking to no other girl but you and you were… serving her a… dessert? “Well hello ladies!” Lyney greeted you both, pulled his hat down to his chest and bowed low. “Oh, hello brother.” Lynette said while you stood beside her. “What are you doing here? I thought you had to practice new card tricks.” Dumbfounded you asked “W-wait, you know each other?” the girl looked up at you “Such a foolish question, we are twins.” “You never told me you had a twin brother!” your jaw dropped almost to the floor. Lyney chuckled a bit “You are the hazelnuts girl if I am not mistaken?” your gaze moved to him “Ah, yes! I never introduced myself properly, my name is [name]. Nice to meet you mister…” you shifted your hand to shake his. Lyney was actually a bit surprised that you didn’t recognise him “Lyney, my name is Lyney, Madmoiselle.” He grasped your hand as he bowed just so he can kiss your hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”. Your face was bright red, no one has done this to you before and it felt… good, you felt giddy and appreciated. “Sadly though we have to part.” he let go of your hand and stood up, his eyes darting to Lynette who was actively trying to avoid him, slowly eating the dessert you made. “Come on Lynette, we have a rehearsal.” “Ah, can I at least  finish my dessert?” she pleaded. Then you asked perplexed “A rehearsal? Are you actors? Or do you do doll theatres?” Just when the girl with a low ponytail was about to tell you that they do magic shows, her brother explained “Yes, you can say we are kind of like actors. We actually have a show coming up this Saturday, could you like to come and see it?”. He was up to something. “Oh, I could love to, but I don’t know if I will be able to. We usually have a large amount of customers in the weekends so I should not dare to make promises.” you apologised, sadness can be seen in your eyes. Lyney was not fazed by that response and instead reassured “Oh well, if you aren’t sure if you will be available, we can save you a spot in the front, just in case.” He winked and waited for a response. You couldn’t possibly refuse such an invitation, and after all, this was a perfect opportunity to de-stress a bit. “I can see what I can do!” eyes lit with fiery determination and brows in a slight frown. Lyney thought it was adorable. “[name] I need some help, quit the chit-chat please!” you heard your brother yell from behind the café counter. “I’m coming right up! Goodbye!” and off you go. 

“Why didn’t you tell her we are magicians?” Lynette asked interested in what her twin had as an excuse. “Oh it’s not important! And, you know, I like the face of a surprise on my audience.” his smug half-lie could fool anyone, but not and her. “As you say..” the girl sighed and kept on walking alongside him.

“What did Mr. Lyney have to say to you?” Your brother looked at your back as you started walking off to the the back door. You turned around to face him “Wait, you know him too?”. “[name], what kind of a question is this? Who doesn’t know ‘Lyney, The Great Magician’?” he looked at you with crossed arms and a slight smile. “‘Lyney, the..’ no way.. THAT WAS LYNEY THE MAGICIAN??”

Tag list is open!

[dungeonenvy]

The back to back of 'The Song Burning In The Embers' and 'Sleep In Peace' really highlight the cycle of abuse and how Father is not truly better than Mother.

She cares for her children but she's still putting them at risk. She's not saving lives. She's utilizing child soldiers, getting them to fight and kill and lie and steal for the House lf the Hearth.

No matter what excuses she might make in her mind, it's still dead kids. It's still terrified Snezhnevas and Snezhnevichs doing awful missions for the Fatui in foreign lands.

Perhaps they love Father more than Mother's children loved her. Perhaps Father is not making them suffer as much before the end. But they are still children, fighting and dying.

So anyone who says "arlecchino is NOT a villain"? Fundamentally incorrect. And I still firmly believe she set Navia up to die after Poisson flooded.

But uhhh. That does not change my obsession for her in the slightest. Turns out I love bad parental figures when they're hot women.

[vacantgodling]

PARAMOUR CHAPTER 1: WEDDING PREPARATIONS

WIP: the fall of galere book 1: PARAMOUR

SUMMARY: an hour before the ceremony that will wed hyacinthus shrapnel to The Keeper of Chateau aux Aisles D'or, he receives an unwanted, but unfortauntely necessary visitor.

tw(s): implied murder, mentions of character death/patricide, a lot of footnotes lmao.

There were many preparations that one must think about to host a proper Galerian wedding—arrangments thankfully made without the bride to be, Hyacinthus Shrapnel’s, input.

He hadn’t had to go through the priests and clergy to secure an auspicious Temple for the ceremony. No, the prominence of his bridegroom was a weight hefty enough that it was preemptively arranged to be lofted to the most grandiose of heights: The Sanctuarie D’Orage¹, in its main, intimate nef². He hadn’t had to gather or oversee the étoiles or poisson³ to rehearse, nor even send out the illustrious invitations to announce his union with the head of the chamber, and perhaps true lord over all Galarian society even above the reagent, The Keeper of Chateau Aux Aisles D’or. The only responsibility that Hyacinthus had, in fact, in the undertaking of this grand occasion, was the procurement of his wedding gown and making sure it was presentable to his personal liking. A truly arduous task, as red was never his favorite color. 

Thus, here he sat, on the precipice of his wedding march, staring down the gown he’d purchased on his elder sibling’s dime with the same glower of hate that a chained dog bore towards it’s master. He had been painstakingly pampered for this occasion: a long bath run, with milk, honey, and all the usual exfoliants; his long, luxurious black hair was steamed, straightened, freshly trimmed; his nails gilded with pure gold… the list goes on. And as a denizen of the chapel applied powder and lipstick to his handsome, dark, chiseled face—entrée was granted to one he wasn’t particularly looking forward to seeing. The one who was the mastermind behind this betrothal arrangement, and the one who’s money Hyacinthus had no qualms about spending like water: the eldest of the damned and wretched children of one long dead business vulture Clematis Gunn—Vermassen⁴ Tagetes Gunn de Beneaux.

Their own weaseled wedding to the fifth prince of Galeré had taken place only several years prior to this date, but the royal manner of their current state was definitely going to their overgrown head. Hyacinthus scowled when they pulled back the curtain to reveal themselves, even more, perhaps, when he noticed the two flutes of bubbling champagne ferried in their gloved hands. 

“Come now Cinthy, don’t look so delighted to see me.” 

Sarcasm dripped from their treacherous tongue, disguised by the visage of a sinister, mustache-laden smile. They strolled leisurely across the room, easily elbowing the church denizen out of their way without a single thought. The poor girl stumbled, but she said nothing; knowing to yield to her betters. Tagetes set the champagne down on the vanity before Hyacinthus. 

“Even after all the trouble I went to procure you some liquid courage.” 

“I should think it’s poisoned, knowing you.” Hyacinthus sneered, but Tagetes only chuckled, and caught their younger brother’s chin in their hand. 

“Careful little dog; do not fully sever the hand that feeds you with those golden teeth.” As if queued, Hyacinthus bared his teeth at Tagetes, the golden hue of his canines glinting in the dimmed light. “Were it not for my intervention you would be left to the streets. Some gratitude for my interference is in order, yes?”

Hyacinthus yanked his jaw away, glowering further still—yet wisely, perhaps, said nothing. Neither to thank them, nor deny the accusation; he instead let his gaze wander away to the gown awaiting his figure to wrap around. 

“This isn’t my style.” He said. Tagetes followed his eyes, laughing softly. 

“No, I suppose you’d prefer to wear a white ball gown enmeshed with gold. Shoulder pads too, of course? Not that you need any help accentuating your shoulders—they are quite broad enough as is.”

If Hyacinthus was one to do so, he’d have upturned his nose. But he simply said, “It’d look less tacky.” 

“I hardly think it looks tacky—it is tradition. Even I wore such a gown on my wedding day.” 

“The tackiness of your own gown was in mostly due to whom was wearing it.” 

Tagetes tutted darkly. They gestured back towards the champagne that they bought. “Drink some.” 

“I told you—“

“And if I drank some first?” Tagetes gingerly plucked one of the flutes of champagne from the vanity and drew some of it from its glass prison—only until it was nearly half. Then, they set it back down again.

“The other as well.” Hyacinthus remarked. Tagetes shook their head. “You truly think I want you dead, Cinthy? With all the effort I have furnished in you? Truly, if I wanted you dead—you would be.” Still, Tagetes obliged and gingerly lifted the second champagne glass to their lips. As they sipped at it, Hyacinthus murmured, “Such as father, I presume.” 

He received no answer for that; though he needn’t one. Anyone who looked closely enough at the dynamics of the Gunn family knew that Hersieur⁵ Clematis’s death was no accident. Who was responsible for it… anyone’s guess. But if Hyacinthus had to bet money—and he was not of a gambling sort—he would put money on Tagetes. 

The saccharine smile he received for his accusation was sinister enough as it were.

Once Tagetes had leveled the second glass to equal fullness of the first, they set it back on the vanity before Hyacinthus. 

“Tell me, dearest brother, does this glass of champagne appear to you as ‘half empty’ or ‘half full’?” 

Hyacinthus scoffed and stood abruptly from his chair, sweeping towards the gown that he ought to have donned by now. Seeing as it was their cue, an assortment of servants scurried to his aid; first affixing the tight, red bodice that pushed his pectoral muscles up as a proper bosom, tying its laces tightly so it would not come undone. Next came the garter and stockings, then the first layer of skirts—a sighing orange color akin to the sun at dawn, growing increasingly deeper in color with each layer until the heaviest and most saturated top layer was laid over the underskirts. A beautiful vermillion in color, adorned with delicate golden beads like stars dotted across the entire body of the skirt, tapering off into golden flames that licked the bottom hem, to mirror the sun’s rays. 

As one servant affixed the veil, Tagetes saw it fit to continue; “If I were in your shoes, the glass I have presented to you is best viewed half full.” 

“I know you well enough to smell your schemes, Tagetes. I have no interest in being grateful for being a pawn.” Hyacinthus rolled his eyes, stooping gracefully in a near curtsey so a shorter servant could fuss with the laying of his bangs. “The streets.” Tagetes rebuttled with a sing song voice. “I could’ve easily married you off to an old, decaying lord, with old, dying money. You would struggle to find a richer husband than The Keeper. Nor one so well connected.” Tagetes’s dark eyes were practically gleaming when they said, softly, sinisterly, “The Keeper is more than your botched birthright should even afford you.”

“Shut your fucking mouth!” Hyacinthus snapped, but it was easy to see how the words gnawed at his skin. He shooed the servant attending him away roughly, casting them to the side like a wet rag. 

“Now, now.” Tagetes tutted. “Behave Cinthy. I can’t afford to have you mess this up.” 

“I should strangle you within an inch of your life.” Hyacinthus snarled. 

“But then you’d lose access to your pretty dowry. Think of the storeroom I’m sure your bridegroom has.” 

“Money is—”

“Worthless? Perhaps. But with your expensive tastes, I doubt you believe that.”

“You—” Hyacinthus was cut off by the loud chime of bells overhead; The Sanctuarie’s clock tower alerting all of those far and wide in La Castra that it was nearing the auspicious hour—the time of the wedding to be spoken of for years and years to come; another Union of The Keeper of Chateau aux Aisles D’or—head of The Chamber, who benevolently ruled all of Galeré, even above the reagent themself.

“It seems as though the curtain’s draw is upon us.” Tagetes astutely observed. When they turned their eyes back to Hyacinthus, the look within them made something with Hyacinthus wither. 

“I do mean it. Behave. At least until the curtain falls. Remember your glass.” 

As quickly as they’d come, they swept out of the room, leaving both flutes of champagne on the vanity, and with a final wave of adieu, they were gone. Perhaps out to the nef, or perhaps to mingle. 

Hopefully to hang themselves, Hyacinthus thought.

But there was no turning back now; within the hour he should become a wife—whether he wished it or not. He regarded the two champagne glasses before him. Then seeming to make a sudden decision, he grasped one in his hand and downed it, without much other preamble than that.

FOOTNOTES:

¹ = Sanctuaire D’Orage or Temple of the Storm is the largest temple in all of Galeré located in the center of religious leadership La Castra. It is a large, foreboding structure with a catacombs underneath and stretches high into the clouds as though it were trying to touch the sun. It features the largest statue of The Shepherd in the country.

² = nef — referring to the central most part of a church or temple; ie: a nave.

³ = the étoiles and the poisson are the bride and groom’s wedding precession. in a Galerian wedding, there is no such thing as a maid of honor or bridesmaids/male equivalent—the bride is to take the role of the Sunset and the groom the Ocean. in old Galarian folklore, the earth was made via the union of the Sunset and the Ocean, and so traditional wedding garb is reds for the bride and blues for the groom. the étoiles and the poisson represent the stars and fish present at this union, and in a wedding they dance before the bride and groom as they enter horizontally, then meet at the central altar. the bride is accompanied by The Moon who leads them to the altar, and the groom is accompanied by The Coral who leads them to the altar.

⁴ = a Galarian honorofic, referring explicitly to a married wife. Husbands and Wives are not gendered in Galere; for husbands simply are breadwinners and managers of the external household affairs and wives are the managers of finances and the internal household estate. Hyacinthus Shrapnel, once he is wed, will become a wife as well.

⁵ = a Galarian honorofic, referring explicitly to a married husband.

[twilightstarr-zinnia]

Navia: When Poisson was flooded, I lost my dear attendents, Melus and Silver.

Oceanid Melus and Silver: Quit telling everyone we're dead!

Navia: Sometimes I can still hear their voices.

[cat-downthestreet]

Okay, everyone... It's time to talk- really talk- about Furina.

I cannot be the only one who is angry at the people of Fontaine for their treatment of her.

I mean, they loved Furina. She was their mascot- the true representation of justice in Fontaine. And we all know how it goes- Furina was placed in the role of the new archon, and then had to pretend to be haughty and self-important to gain her nation's approval. That's bad enough.

But Fontaine wasn't exactly at fault for that. They couldn't have known how painful it would be for her to act the part of their archon. They didn't even know it was just an act. So what made me so furious about their treatment of Furina? Not that. Though that certainly added onto the mess that played out during the archon quest.

No, what got to me was the humiliation they put Furina through, followed by their abandonment of her.

The trial was bad enough. Furina was ripped apart, put on the spot, and unable to defend herself without risking the safety of Fontaine (which I have a few questions about the validity of that statement, but I digress). And then the truth was revealed.

Except it wasn't.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't Neuvillette keep what he found out about Furina and Focalors to himself? Fontaine never learned about the pain she went through over those 500 years. They only learned that Furina was a "fraud" and a mere human. All they saw was a human who pretended to be a god in place of their true archon, and they probably even believed Furina had done something to their true god so she could pretend to be the vessel of justice. I'd believe that if I found out my idol was a fake. But that's just speculation on my part.

The point is, Fontaine doesn't know that Furina is the human counterpart to Focalors. They don't know that the divine part of Focalors is already dead. They don't even know the truth about the prophecy or why Furina had to pretend to be their archon.

All they know is that their perceived deity was a fraud all along and their real god is nowhere to be seen.

And that leaves a lot to the imagination, a lot that can be filled in with lies and delusions...

...delusions that say Furina is the reason why their real god is gone.

No one knew how hard Furina tried to prevent anyone from dissolving. No one knows how important it was that Furina told no one who she really was and pretended to be their god for so long. No one knew how much it tormented Furina to isolate herself and pretend to be someone she wasn't. No one knew that the entire reason why Furina did this was because she loved her people and wanted Fontaine to be safe.

No, all the people of Fontaine knew was that their "god" was a fraud and presumably had done nothing to protect the nation from the rising waters. All they knew was that Furina had failed to save Poisson before the disaster struck.

The people of Fontaine only see Furina as a failure and a fraud, nothing more.

The real tragedy though? It's that Neuvillette knew what Furina had gone through for so long.

Yet he said nothing when Furina was cast aside post-flood. He said nothing when the people of Poisson shunned her for her failure to act.

But worst of all, he failed to make sure Furina was okay when all was said and done.

For all the remorse Neuvillette seemed to show upon learning of Furina's story, he barely seemed to care about her after the flood.

He, just like the rest of Fontaine, forgot about her and left her behind.

Furina was left to rot by her people, her other half, and even the closest thing she ever had to a friend.

That's the true irony of Fontaine.

The mascot of justice, unjustly humiliated and forgotten in front of and by her own nation.

I've never heard of a crueler fate.

And don't forget- Furina doesn't even know who she is anymore. How much harder do you think that is for someone who has nothing and no one to turn to?

Even the Traveler mocked her and only cared about her for answers about their sibling.

Furina has no one, is no one, and will be remembered as no one. Except as a fraud, a failure, and an egomaniac. Because that is the role she was forced into.

Focalors was deluding herself. Furina could never be free to act as whoever she wanted. Furina was always doomed to play the same part, and she was always doomed to be hated and ultimately forgotten by her own people.

And all we, the Traveler, did to "help" her, was to force her to take the stage again.

Also, do you really, honestly believe that Furina started acting again during her story quest solely because she has a passion for it?

No. It's familiar. And it's all she has left.

Furina only took to acting again because we forced her into it, and she only chose to continue because it's all she knows how to do.

Furina is truly the most tragic character in all of Genshin.

[kittynannygaming]

[Nuit de l'Écriture] 21/09/2024

Apparemment, ce coup-ci, ce fut une spéciale Dead Boy Detectives et plus particulièrement Charles Rowland. AO3 ou ⬇️ (Very Short Stories, you can use Google Translation if French is not your language)

NUIT DE L’ÉCRITURE 21/09/2024

01- Ce n’est pas humain – Dead Boy Detectives – 246 mots

« Ce n’est pas humain ! » se plaint Charles, exténué. Edwin le regarda, exaspéré

« Évidemment, c’est un Chien de Garde des Cimetières, Charles. »

« Oï ! Tu sais ce que je voulais dire ! Et ce n’est pas un Chien de Garde des Cimetières. C’est un Chiot de Garde. » Charles regarda le chiot au pelage noir qui était assis à ses pieds. « Qui c’est le gentil toutou ? Qui c’est ? »

« Tu sais qu’on ne peut pas le garder ? » Charles prit le chiot dans ses bras et colla son visage à celui du canidé.

« Mais regarde comme il est mignon… » Edwin était à deux doigts de craquer mais il ne pouvait pas.

« Un compromis alors. Nous viendrons le voir tous les jours si notre emploi du temps le permet et tu pourras jouer avec lui. »

« Génial ! Tu entends ça Max ! On va venir te voir tous les jours ! Mission accomplie ! Qui sait, peut-être Edwin trouvera un compagnon à son goût parmi tes amis, hein ? »

« Ses… amis ? » Edwin se retourna vers la direction que Charles pointait avec sa tête. Des dizaines, des CENTAINES de chiots et chiens en tout genre se tenaient là. « Gentils chiens ? » bafouilla t-il.

Et là, se fut la débâcle. Edwin fut littéralement assaillit par une armée de chiens cherchant les câlins et Charles ne fit que s’esclaffer.

02- Ta réalité n’est pas la mienne – Dead Boy Detectives – 167 mots

Kashi était un modèle de patience et il trouvait la plupart des gens qu’il avait rencontré amusants. Mais cette femme au caractère bien trempé le faisait rire intérieurement.

« Pourquoi tant de rage ? Rien de bien ne vous arrivera dans cet état. »

« Je dois sortir de ce fichu poisson et retourner trouver ces petits morveux pour qu’ils puissent aller où ils sont censés être. »

« Est-ce que ça troublerait à ce point l’Univers s’ils restaient où ils sont ? »

« Chaque chose à une place dans l’Univers, chaque personne une place dans l’au-delà. C’est la réalité des choses. »

« Ta réalité n’est pas la mienne. L’Univers ne va pas succomber et disparaître parce que deux âmes ont décidé de rester sur Terre. » La Veilleuse de Nuit de l’Au-Delà ne répondit pas. Chaque chose avait une place, chaque âme avait un au-delà, c’était le mantra qu’elle se répétait depuis son décès. Si elle n’avait même plus ça, que lui restait-il?

03- Rencontre avec une divinité – Dead Boy Detectives – 193 mots

Crystal était surprise. Devant elle se tenait Lilith. Après Port Townsend, elle s’était renseigné autant qu’elle put sur elle. Lilith, la première épouse d’Adam, soit-disant une tueuse d’enfants selon les religions traditionnelles. Une déesse de l’indépendance, LA déesse selon la Wicca Moderne.

« En quoi puis-je vous aider ? » demanda la voyante en laissant entrer la divinité.

« Ton plaidoyer, à Port Townsend, a été assez révélateur pour moi. Les temps ont changé. J’ai décidé d’être plus pro-active. Mais j’aimerais quelqu’un qui puisse m’aider dans ma quête. Quelqu’un qui comprenne ce qu’est être une femme à cette époque. » Crystal fit de gros yeux.

« Vous voulez dire, moi ? Vous êtes sûre ? » Lilith sourit.

« Oui. Et en échange, je m’occuperais de ce petit démon dans ton esprit. »

« Vous pouvez l’enlever ? Et il ne fera plus de mal à personne ? » Lilith émit un petit rire.

« N’as-tu pas entendu ? Je suis la mère des Démons et j’en laisse 100 mourir chaque jour. Quelle terrible mère je suis. » Crystal se demandait si elle allait regretter cet accord. L’avenir lui ferait voir que non.

04- Le cycle de l’abus – Dead Boy Detectives – 289 mots

Charles Rowland n’avait pas toujours été le «muscle de service». En fait, en voyant les photos de ces jeunes années, Charles était un adorable bambin toujours souriant, gentil comme pas deux et absolument contre toute forme de violence.

Puis, vers l’année de ces 8 ans, tout changea. Son père avait perdu son emploi dans l’industrie et il fut très difficile pour lui de retrouver un emploi dans ce secteur. Sa mère avait eu plus de chance, travaillant dans une cantine scolaire. Son père avait donc commencé un cycle infernal d’abus, d’abord verbal puis physique.

Charles avait donc dû apprendre à encaisser les coups, puis à en donner. Il aurait pu devenir abusif, comme son père mais Charles ne voulait pas être comme lui. Alors, ses poings, c’était contre d’autres brutes. Jamais contre des innocents. Cela lui a valu de mourir à 16 ans, mais cela en valait la peine.

Cela en valait la peine quand il vit sa mère finalement dire à son père ses 4 vérités. Ils resteraient mariés mais l’amour était mort en même temps que leur fils. Cela en valait la peine quand il rencontra, 10 ans après, le jeune pakistanais avec sa fille, son premier enfant, qu’il avait nommé Charlotte. Le jeune homme était un professeur et avait fondé une association qui venait en aide aux enfants victimes d’abus, que ce soit à la maison ou à l’école.

Edwin ne comprit pas la raison pour laquelle Charles l’enlaça pendant 5 bonnes minutes après être revenu de sa sortie mais il n’allait pas s’en plaindre. Il n’apprendrait la vérité que bien plus tard. Le cycle de l’abus était vicieux mais il pouvait être rompu. Un jour, peut-être, l’abus ne serait que de l’histoire ancienne.

05- Partir ou rester - Dead Boy Detectives - 262 mots

Partir avec la Mort ou rester avec le garçon qui lui avait permis de vivre ses dernières heures le plus gentiment possible ? Pour Charles, la question ne se posait même pas. Edwin était un garçon socialement maladroit qui avait probablement dû se débrouiller seul la majeur partie du temps tout en essayant de se conformer à une façon d’être qui n’était pas la sienne. Bref, Edwin avait besoin de Charles. Et en plus, il n’était pas vraiment pressé d’aller dans l’au-delà. Il n’était pas vraiment croyant (quelque soit la religion) donc les promesses de paradis éternel et tout ça, il n’en avait rien à faire.

« Donc, c’est ici que tu vis ? » demanda Charles.

« C’est exact. J’étudie tout ce qui à trait à l’occulte. J’espère ouvrir une agence de détectives. »

« Une agence de détectives ? »

« Oui, pour aider les âmes qui restent coincés à cause d’affaires non finies. Où les cas comme le mien. » Edwin lui avait parler de son cas. Raison de plus pour rester avec lui.

« C’est cool. Je serai les muscles, tu seras le cerveau. Hey ! Ce sac a l’air cool ! »

« Techniquement, c’est un sac magique sans fond mais je n’arrive pas à le faire fonctionner correctement. Il est à toi si tu y arrives. »

« C’est cool ! Merci, je vais m’y mettre de suite. » Et effectivement, il lui fallut peu de temps pour s’approprier le sac. Même après 35 ans ensemble, Charles savait qu’il avait pris la meilleure décision en restant.

[its-to-the-death]

Songs that made it through preliminaries (minus the MLP songs)

Rogues Are We (Holy Musical B@man)

Kick It Up a Notch (Starship)

Nerdy Prudes Must Die (Nerdy Prudes Must Die)

Join Us (and Die) (The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals)

No One Remembers Achmed (Twisted)

Feed Me (Little Shop of Horrors)

Dentist (Little Shop of Horrors)

Mean Green Mother From Outerspace (Little Shop of Horrors)

Old King Cole (Once Upon a Time in Space by The Mechanisms)

Favoured Son (Ulysses Dies at Dawn by The Mechanisms)

Odin (The Bifrost Incident by The Mechanisms)

There's a Platypus Controlling Me (Phineas and Ferb)

Evil for Extra Credit (Phineas and Ferb)

All the Convoluted Reasons We Pretend To Be Divorced (Phineas and Ferb)

I Love You (As Much As Someone Like Me Can Love Anyone) (Galavant)

No One But You (Galavant)

She'll Be Mine (Galavant)

Mother Knows Best (Tangled)

Ready As I'll Ever Be (Tangled the Series)

Nothing Left to Lose (Tangled the Series)

Pretty Women (Sweeney Todd)

Dancing Mad (Final Fantasy VI)

When the Chips are Down (Hadestown)

Master of Masters (Kingdom Hearts)

U.N. Owen Was Her? (Touhou 6: Embodiment of Scarlet Devil)

The Old Man of the Mountain/You Gotta Ho-De-Ho/The Scat Song Medley (Betty Boop)

Our Love is God (Heathers)

Biskit Family Business (Littlest Pet Shop)

We Both Reached For the Gun (Chicago)

Heaven on Their Minds (Jesus Christ Superstar)

Good to Be King (Journey to Bethlehem)

Jester (Legends of Oz: Dorothy's Return)

Sympathy for the Devil (song by The Rolling Stones)

Dressed to Oppress (Play It By Ear - The Muck of Merkmere)

One Step Ahead (Spies Are Forever)

Let the Pun Fit the Crime (Wander Over Yonder)

Necrostar (The Vice Quadrant by Steam Powered Giraffe)

Lost in Thoughts All Alone (Fire Emblem: Fates)

The Ring motif (Lord of the Rings)

I'm Alive (Next to Normal)

Where There's a Whip, There's a Way (Return of the King 1980)

There Ain't Nothin' But Bad Days Ahead (The Swan Princess: Mystery of the Enchanted Treasure)

Les Poissons (The Little Mermaid)

It's Our House Now (The House of Mouse - Halloween special)

Grandpa's Gonna Sue the Pants Off Santa (Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer)

Master of the House (Les Miserables)

Peaches (The Super Mario Bros. Movie)

The Boys Are Back In Town (To Kill You) (The Boys)

Dark Riders (Star Stable Online)

Grand Ceremony (Pyre)

Coraline (Coraline)

Better Than You (Camp Camp)

In the Hall of the Mountain King (Peer Gynt)

Get in the Water (Epic: The Musical)

Descole's theme live version (Professor Layton)

Isabella's Lullaby (The Promised Neverland)

Get Jinxed (League of Legends)

Pieces of You/Hologram Professor Song (Puppet History)

Great at Crime (Epithet Erased)

Davy Jones' theme (Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest)

Herbert Style (Club Penguin)

No One's Gonna Make a Monkey Out of Me (The Donkey Kong Country cartoon)

Diddy Drop Rap (The Donkey Kong Country cartoon)

Attack at the Wall (Mulan)

No More Toymakers to the King (Santa Claus is Comin' to Town)

What's Up Duloc? (Shrek musical)

If I'm Gonna Eat Somebody (It Might As Well Be You) (Ferngully)

The Phantom of the Opera (The Phantom of the Opera)

Prowler's theme (Spiderman: Into the Spiderverse)

How Can I Refuse? Reprise (Barbie as the Princess and the Pauper)

Friends in Low Places (Bigtop Burger)

That's Not How the Story Goes (A Series of Unfortunate Events)

The World Revolving (Deltarune)

Heffalumps and Woozles (Winnie the Pooh)

Waikyou Shenshoujin (Senki Zesshou Symphogear G)

No Good Deed (Wicked)

Fabulous (High School Musical 2)

Kidnap the Sandy Claws (The Nightmare Before Christmas)

Between Two Worlds (Limbus Company)

Your Best Nightmare (Undertale)

We Don't Talk About Bruno (Encanto)

Jaws theme (Jaws)

The Executioner (Umineko no naku koro ni)

[drifting-cloud]

i think during the early parts of furina’s act of 500 years was when her act was absolutely perfect. like she had a job to do and she had the energy to do so. she was fooling everybody into thinking she was their beloved archon, even herself with the way she constantly has to act. i even think during that 500 year act furina had moments where she had mania, switching between moments where she deludes herself into truly thinking that she was fontaine's god or has crushing imposter syndrome that would haunt her dreams. i don’t know much about mania, but i think furina had some episodes since 500 years is a lot of time to experience a lot of things. plus, in the cutscene where furina repeats her life in a monotone routine, i definitely think furina had some of those aforementioned manic episodes.

the reason why in the archon quest furina was showing signs of susness was because she was nearing the end of her rope. 500 years, no signs of the prophecy. while she was on the stake out for this prophecy, she also investigated different possible methods to how she could stop the prophecy. then when some random outsider comes in and all the events listed in the prophecy are happening, and her own judge to be questioning her and already knew about the private investigations she was having. we see how she starts losing it by avoiding everyone and even allowed herself to personally go to poisson to mourn the dead people there when that’s logically a stupid move since she risked getting caught (and she did by said outsider). then when she finally mustered up enough courage and trust to tell the traveler the truth about everything, she is then thrust into a court trial with everyone there to witness her downfall. then came all of the stuff that happened in court with the traveler and everyone else disproving her claims.

even without the visuals, i can legit picture the amount distress furina was in. it's both pitiful and tragic in a way that she wasn't able to stop the prophecy, that everything played out in the end as exactly foretold. you can literally see the soul crushing defeat furina felt when everything she built towards was sent crashing down during the cutscene where she falls back on her chair, crying. though i haven't really studied tragedy, i think furina's tale is a textbook example of a tragedy. good thing that that tragedy swerved into a happy end with focalors, neuvillette, and the traveler fixing things up.

also, her story quest. her entire story quest was her coming to terms and bringing a close to her act. like, officially bring a close to her emotional baggage pertaining to being exposed as a human and a false god. we got all the good details involved with the release of emotions, like hearing how the people still love her despite posing as their archon, and how she brings a close to the troupe's leader's story. i feel like that entire storyline of furina witnessing this troupe's leader's legacy and learning about what happened made her somewhat relive her life. thinking about focalors and how she would power on towards the end of the prophecy. like maybe furina saw focalors in the troupe leader with how she loved the troupe and treated all of them like family. and when furina lectures the troupe near the end about how they need to get their act straight and how the troupe leader wouldn't want to see all of them fight, i think furina was also talking to/about herself as well. y'know, with focalors and everything.

furthermore, i like how the troupe leader's death contrasted furina's life story. a human who died to the primordial sea water that furina was immune to. an mortal and a former immortal.

now the ending cutscene. we all know how the ending cutscene and song of furina's story quest directly mirrors her experience. and the very end where she sacrifices herself in the play and gains a whole ass hydro vision was beautiful as shit. like that's the part where she accepted what she was, what she experienced, and i like to think that the gods rewarded her for that. for accepting the grief she's been through, the tragedy that unfolded yet still lived till the end, furina still lived and is more importantly free.

all of this might be a simple thought process and i might've been yapping for the sake of yapping, but i think everything that happened to furina is neat

[blauesonnenblume]

ça y est j’ai pris mes billets pour l’Australie, c’était LE gros big step ça m’a fait tellement stresser en avance que j’ai rien ressenti en cliquant. à part le pincement au cœur du prix exorbitant évidemment mais on me le rembourse une fois là bas donc ça va. après j’ai répondu à tous les mails que je repousse depuis 2 semaines vu que j’avais fait le pire truc de la to do list. sinon aujourd’hui j’ai travaillé beaucoup pour mon article, j’étais seule à la maison et on s’est appelés en silence avec L pendant qu’on travaillait. j’ai fini son manchot dead en crochet assorti à mon poisson dead.

[prongsiess]

What’s this? More incorrect marauders quotes as stuff my friends have said??

Peter, sighing and looking wistfully into the distance: I haven’t seen them since 1910

Regulus: I will not get bossed around by a FUCKING SNAKE (I hc that the skittles had a pet snake called Reginald) that’s CONSTIPATED half the time

Lily: James and Sirius are the reasons I don’t want to go into teaching

James: I’ve just glammed up ADHD *flicks non-existent shoulder length hair over his shoulder*

Mary,gesturing dramatically towards remus: remus could be fucking a fucking trash bag on the side of the street and still pull!

Evan at a slytherin party: time to go bartender on these bitches

Remus: chocy milk make pain go away

Mary glaring at peter after he stole her last cookie: the loathing I’m developing for a certain individual *side eyes pete*

Remus before he came out: I’m not gay but I’m gay for Monty

Marlene: the metaverse, Minnie, the future!

James about Marlene after Minnie told them to stop wrestling in class: I would say there’s no love but… no *glares* there’s no love

Dorcas, to Reg, Evan and Pandora: I want to marry your cousin (talking about Andy)

James pulling 6 plates infront of him after quidditch practice: I’m gonna munch this like a hippogriff

Peter: you know I don’t give A FUCK ‘cause i’m a RAT

Regulus, mocking Sirius who’s thirsting over Remus: *on his knees pleading* OUI PAPA OUI PAPA ( yes daddy yes daddy in french)

Barty to Pandora during an argument about Reginald (the skittles’ pet snake): wait until I take away your rights to vote!

Barty: I LOVE WOMEN! LET’S HERE IT FOR WOMEN’S SUFFRAGE!!

Mary to James: go get yourself checked your weird-ass macaroni man

James: if I had my fly swatter you’d be dead by now

Remus, in a prefects meeting: i’m telling you, harassment is the best technique *gets hit over the head by lily*

Marlene at a party, drunk and wrestling with James: i don’t like that my wrists fit into your hand, this is why I like women

Lily, walking around with a blanket around herself, sleep-deprived as fuck after pulling an all-nighter: my blanket is more comfortable than looking presentable, rem

Regulus, trying to find the english word for april fools: april first! You know, the fish day! (April fools is called “poisson d’avril” aka fish day in french… i know it’s a dumb name, I don’t make the rules)

Regulus: it’s weird crying but not wanting to kill myself

Lily dumping the marauders at Minnie’s doorstep after finding them mid-prank: tag, your it, have fun!

(For some of these, I changed the wording to fit the wizarding world better and translated a few of them from french but the essence of the quote stays the same)

[hiddengenshinfan]

“Can You Really Be Her….?”

A Neuvifuri Fanfic (Can be seen as either platonic or romantic) with a Drabble of other characters primarily Fontaine Characters through!

That is the only warning you’re getting before this starts also heavy implication of major character death. Aw hope I’m not forgetting anything else sorry first time doing this.

Sum - The Former Hydro Archon has been missing for months. Everybody is asking questions and Neuvillette invites the Traveller to a mansion that seemed to just appear, and the Traveller makes a deal to keep secrets….

Prologue - ‘That Was A Stupid Deal’

The silence was thick enough that even Lumine’s sword skills wouldn’t be able to slash it even if she infused every element she had. The older man’s eyes kept on glancing at the bed where that…….thing was hardly making eye contact with the woman sitting right across from him. Honestly Lumine regretted absolutely everything and wished she was not down here at all, why did she go against her own gut feeling. Now she was just looking at someone who would never wake up, and a person so desperate for that very person to wake up once again. It was a truly depressing scene, in her opinion at least.

Clorinde was right this was dumb, the indux has certainly guaranteed a celestial nail targeting him now if that thing did wake up. Luckily that didn’t seem to be happening but whenever she looked over to the hydro dragon she felt a new sting of guilt deep inside her soul. She was literally hoping for him to fail at bringing a person who was by his side for 500 years back. She honestly felt like a complete and total asshole, since she also argeed to this. But the regrets were overflowing hardly anyone could know and it’s hard to keep a secret like this from Paimon without having to drop her off somewhere, and sadly Navia was kind enough to take her. Which became a common enough occurrence, for Navia to have pre-prepared macaroons before she had even told her to watch Paimon.

Through seeing Navia always made her uneasy, she knew she was being investigated, questioned whenever she stayed for more then a few minutes and followed when she left Poisson. Spina Di Rosa was investigating her Lumine was sure of that she didn’t have the will to confront Navia about that. Because she understood why she was suspicious she had been since she had become pretty much one of the only people Clorinde and Neuvillette talked to voluntarily after……what happened. Navia and Clorinde’s relationship had once again hit the rocks but for different reasons, now Navia was sure at least in Lumine’s mind that Clorinde knew way more then she had let on. Navia wouldn’t let those secrets slide especially if it had anything to do with that missing case.

A missing person’s case that shook and effected Fontaine to this very day even months after the fact. Of course Navia would wish to investigate it in her slightly less than legal way, to give an answer to the waiting Fontainains so desperate for a statement. But if the hydro dragon and champion duelist had it there way no statement would be made until long after there both dead, Lumine knew that which is why she argeed to help Neuvillette with this thing she had no hope for in the slightest. Because in exchange he’d finally tell the truth to Fontaine about where and what happened to their former archon Furina De Fontaine, but only if it utterly and completely failed.

Through deep in her heart she hoped it succeeded just to fuck with Celestia, as well as because……she regretted not spending more time with Furina when she could or at least felt guilty with most of it being very forced and Paimon’s mean comments when they had spent time with her. She wasn’t even in the nation when the tempest started that caused so much destruction, that matched how the life of a former god was destroyed and withered. She never asked for anymore details the damage to Fontaine or anything, the memories hurt both Clorinde and Neuvillette and that was apparent. She didn’t even let Paimon hear what happened and Paimon actually didn’t question it, the little thing was always curious and loud but when the traveler told her she would not like to talk about it. Paimon accepted it and never asked about it again, she was actually sorta convinced at this point that Paimon had entirely forgotten that such a discussion toke place at all, or maybe just once Paimon knew when to keep her mouth shut.

But still the….thing did not move, she felt like saying what it actually was even within her own mind was exceedingly cruel. It had been weeks since she had argeed to help the hydro dragon with this attempt at…..necromancy? Was that the right word? Lumine had no clue and really didn’t care, he was trying to bring the dead back to life with the use of the primordial sea, that’s what mattered. Honestly if it wasn’t for Neuvillette being the Hydro Sovereign she would have probably laughed in his face at just the idea. But she was almost sure it was possible in at least some way, she just wasn’t sure if she liked this fundamentally. Even through her own experiences in other worlds trying to change the flow of nature always resulted in terrible things for either the thing that was being messed with or the person messing with it. She just hoped that if this did bite the hydro sovereign eventually that he could finally recover from all this clear pain and move on.

But then a rather startling sound rang in her ears……it sounded like a gasp?! She looked at Neuvillette and Neuvillette stared back for a second. Most times he always had the same hard to read expression that just screamed somber if you looked at it too long and knew him well. But this time his eyes lit up very awake and alert, he got up first then she of course followed shooting up from her seat and looking towards the ‘thing’.

….It was laying upright not sleeping anymore…..it was alive and moving? How could something that was still for archons know how long just shoot up and gasp for air! She had many experiences in her travels but not this!? She was still as a statue when she finally heard Neuvillette’s voice. “…..Lady Furina?” He spoke so calmly and softly towards the creature. The creature’s pose was like she was reaching out for something while gasping for air like her lungs couldn’t get enough of the sweet intake of anemo. Her eyes darted around and her arm slowly rested to her side limply through her body was sat upwards now her head slightly leaned forward for a second Lumine assumed the creature was trying to wrap themselves into a ball. But she hardly moved with the only movement being her chest rising and falling and the sound of her rather loud breathes. Then she noticed where ‘Furina’ was looking it was distantly looking at Neuvillette but doing so without moving the only thing she had seen the creature actually move was her eyes and her torso wit her arms earlier and when her head fell forward slightly.

The Hydro Dragon slowly went towards the creature his normal very impartial look on his face shifting to something a lot softer but still hard to figure out or name. Lumine stared at the slightly tilted down face of the creature, the creature was moving its mouth but nothing could be audibly heard? Something was wrong…clearly the fact the thing was moving was wrong fundamentally wrong but there was something else. She pondered for a second her thoughts landing on a young looking girl with a braid, the zombie Qiqi. She always stretched because her body got stiff easily due to her being a sorta walking corpse….maybe due to the creature’s long time not performing any basic human function, her body had to get readjusted like a person who went through physical trauma and needed physical therapy? It was only a guess however she could have been wrong.

Then something cracked, she heard an audible crack then the once awake creature was put back to sleep. Neuvillette was beside the creature now if she had to guess he knocked her out, and she walked over to the bedside of the creature who now breathed normally finally. “….What happened if I may ask?” She said genuinely unsure what to say everything that had just happened toke only minutes it was extreme whiplash for Lumine. She looked over at the dragon’s face which finally had a clear expression one of pity, his hand swept the creature’s bangs off of its face slightly.

“I believe I have made a major error of judgment.” Oh….oh you think that after the thing wakes up?! Lumine screamed in her own thoughts but simply gave a sheepish told you so smile, with a glare aimed at her from the hydro dragon seemingly signaling that is not what he meant. “I am rather glad that Furina has shown signs of life…..however I believe I overdid it.” “Overdid what?” She sheepishly asked she felt like a sovereign saying that meant absolutely no good news heck even if a archon said it she’d be jumping for cover. “I believe I infused too much of the primordial sea within Lady Furina.” The blunt way he said it made her even more anxious. What did that even mean how can you infuse too much! What would that do what did that mean! All of questions were trying to crawl to her mouth but before she could ask even one Neuvillette once again spoke. “I mean to say in the nicest way possible that I made a mistake and that I’m doing the exact opposite of what Focalars predecessor did.” He let that linger in the air slightly. WHAT DID THAT EVEN MEAN?! Lumine’s mind was racing Furina’s predecessor simply turned oceanaids into humans incomplete humans but…..wait does that mean..? “Please Neuvillette tell me you didn’t somehow make Furina a primordial oceanaid.” The silence was so thick that even the mighty Raiden Shogun’s slashes would not cut through it.

He slowly nodded a slight look of shame but not enough for Lumine. She wanted to scream she wanted to be 1000 meters from whatever this was. Why did she come back to Fontaine she really shouldn’t have! She regretted everything…….but there was a lingering curiosity. This was something unlike anything she ever experienced with her brother in there journeys, I mean Aether said he was waiting. He can wait a bit more like this is really interesting. Also she wanted to see it through to the end and make sure the very sad dragon didn’t somehow get himself killed or overthrown by the people of Fontaine.

Guess she’s going to be staying in Fontaine for a while…hope Aether doesn’t get impatient.

(Honestly I’m cooking, let me cook please I promise you’ll understand everything more later this will be a series, so if you have questions wait just wait let me cook.)

[pianostarinwonderland]

With the release of our new girl Yuuka, I’m starting to wonder if Yuu(s) are killed in their og world and sent to twst. From what it looks like in the manga, she might have been hit by a car…idk I could be wrong. Like with Yuuken he saw a horse and it faded to black. Did he get kicked in by the horse, possibly, he could also have just been knocked out. But with Yuuka? If it is a vehicle, ooh then it safe to say that Truck-kun exist in the twst (kinda) universe and is very much helping ppl reach unforeseen places. You can’t tell me the heavy rain doesn’t spell death by vehicle accident. Watch in the Octavinelle chapter it’s a literal shrimp and they’re sent to twst and the last thing they remember is a boiling pot (imagine they tell ppl this and their like yeah I rly wanna go home I miss my fam, and the twst cast is like do you really wanna go back?)

Yuuka also had the horse carriage!

Yuuken and Yuuka's names also have some ties to the theme of death. You can read more about it through this thread, but essentially, Hirasaka (Yuuka's last name) refers to the boundary between the land of the living and of the dead, while Enma (Yuuken's last name) refers to the king of the underworld.

It's pretty interesting how a really old theory about people in NRC being dead is starting to seem likely. It's almost terrifying.

dear Lord if that's the Octa Yuu's backstory I'm gonna wheeze HKSDHFJSHFDS it's just gonna be a Little Mermaid AU where Sebastian is a shrimp and got cooked in the Les Poissons song

[mtkanna]

every day i think about how codependent the narzissenkreuz institute must have been. mary-ann was the most important person in alain's life and vice versa; they were adopted together, and though emanuel was never their father they were brother and sister to each other. alain built seymour for mary-ann's sake. they went into the same line of work, and followed each other's footsteps everywhere (mary-ann into the institute and alain into the marechaussee hunters). how much more codependent would they have gotten following emanuel's disappearance, and the severance of their friendships with jakob and rene? how much did they rely on each other?

jakob and rene were both witnesses to the violence (?) at poisson. it's unclear what exactly this entailed, only that it ended up with all of their parents dead, which rene personally saw. presumably, on their trip to sumeru, rene witnessed jakob either die himself or grow incredibly close to death, which started him on his own path to discover immortality; rene worked to assist carter because he was "like a brother" to jakob. for four hundred years, jakob carried rene's ideals alone, waiting for him to return.