#antoine marquis

[brokenbackmountain]

being queer is a choice‼️ unless you're a de sade. in which case it runs in your blood

[amor-bycandlelight]

Has this been done before?

[nordleuchten]

Are there any instences Adrienne got mad upset at Gilbert or a situation where they had very different opinions? (Or the other way around)

They got along well and loved each other but they were two individuals with differing values, so I was just wondering whether there were some information about such things.

Dear Anon,

You are absolutely right. Even in the most loving relationships there are times of disagreement and friction and Adrienne and La Fayette were certainly no exception to this rule. They both generally seemed to agree on most subjects and could tolerate each other’s opinion when their ideas and values differed. The La Fayette’s would never quarrel in public or cause some sort of dramatic scene – disagreements were discussed in private, and it is therefore sometimes harder to say where they agreed, disagreed or simply put up a good front. Right now, I can think of one memorable incident where Adrienne very prominently did not go along with La Fayette’s wishes.

The clergy in revolutionary France was ordered to swear the Oath of the Civil Constitution of the Clergy (January 3, 1791) - some clergymen took the oath, some refused to and some even fled the country. Adrienne was absolutely against the idea that a priest should swear this civic oath - and she was quite open about this. The Archbishop of Paris, Antoine-Elénore-Léon Le Clerc de Juigné, who had sworn the civic oath as well, left France in 1790 because he became alarmed by the turn the Revolution had taken. In his place Jean-Baptiste-Joseph-Gobel became Archbishop of Paris. Now, Gobel was never recognized by the pope, he was described by some of his contemporaries as an atheist and he was opposed to some of the pillars of the roman-catholic believe - in short, he was no one with whom devout Adrienne would ever get along. Here is what Adrienne’s daughter Virginie wrote in her book:

My father often received constitutional clergymen at dinner. On those occasions, my mother would express before them her attachment to the cause of the former bishops. She would discuss her opinion with those whose personal character she esteemed, and in these conversations she manifested such enlightened views, gave proofs of so much sincerity, and was, at the same time, so careful of offending, that no one could be wounded by the expression of her feelings. Independently of their conduct or opinions, all were received by her according to my father’s wishes, without her own consideration being diminished, because she preserved on every subject the liberty of expressing her way of thinking. Once only did she depart from the rule she had laid down for herself, that of receiving all sorts of persons equally well; it was the day when the bishop of Paris, after his instalment, came to dine at my father’s. He did not, like his colleagues, come as a private individual and she declined receiving him as bishop of the diocese. Accordingly, she dined out that day, although her doing so was much remarked.

Mme de Lasteyrie, Life of Madame de Lafayette, L. Techener, London, 1872, pp. 194-195.

Now, we do not know what La Fayette’s reaction was. He was himself not the greatest fan of Gobel and he knew full well that religion was one of the very few aspects where Adrienne would never compromise – not even for him. And Adrienne would continue to disobey new laws and practices - if she felt they were restricting her religion.

While I have no written evidence for it, I strongly suspect that money was at times also a matter of dispute between the two of them because La Fayette’s management of money was often less than ideal.

Lastly, I could think of some subjects that bothered one of them or was a cause of anxiety but that they nevertheless would not change about the other person because that was simply who they were.

I hope that helped and I hope you have/had a fantastic day!

[scaryscarecrows]

Antoine doesn’t bother knocking. He hasn’t for years and he’s not about to start now. Besides, his hands are full. It’s all he can do to open the door in the first place.

No one’s in the hall, but he’s stolen from the kitchen enough times to know where it is. It’s in the back of the house, next to the dining room–

“Who the Hell–”

“Shit–”

Once the mutual flailing and terror stops (and the tart is unharmed!) he realizes the person he about walked into is just Dove.

…

She looks exhausted. He’s not surprised, given all that’s happened, but she really does look terrible; dark circles for days and the painful sallow color from not sleeping. He probably doesn’t look much better, though, so he keeps his mouth shut and holds out the tart in apology.

“My sister sent this over,” he says, like he didn’t almost just die of fright. “I guess the pear trees were a little overzealous this season.”

“I’ll thank her when I see her,” Dove says, sounding like she also almost just died of fright. “Come on, you can put it in the kitchen.”

The kitchen hasn’t changed. He remembers being ten years old and sneaking in here to grab fruit–or better, cookies–off the counter. The cabinets had seemed high, then, high enough that he and Jason had had to carefully sneak chairs in to get into them (and been caught more than once). Now, it’s just a matter of reaching up and pulling one open.

He sets the tart down and swipes an apple from the bowl (he’s had enough pears in the last four days to see him through the season, he will swear on that). Before he can bite into it to lay claim, Dove’s pulled him into a hug.

“It’s good you made it back,” she says roughly. “I didn’t see you at first and with Jason–” Yeah. With Jason. “Thank God you made it back.”

Some days, he’s not sure he did. He wakes up to squeaking so loud he’d swear they were in the house, to horses screaming in fear and to the overwhelming scent of blood.

He hugs her back all the same, wishing he could be ten again.

“How’s Jay?” he asks her, once he’s bitten into his apple. Easier to have the grounding apple flavor for this, because the last time he and Jason had any sort of conversation, Jason had been busy dying and making him promise to tell Dove m’sorry, m’so sorry, she was right, I never…

It wasn’t pretty, that’s all.

“Better,” she says. “A bit. The doctor thinks he’ll be all right.” It’s something. He’ll take it. “You can go poke your head in, if you want. If he’s asleep, out, but you can say hi if he’s not.”

“I think I’ll do that.”

“Only for a minute!” she calls after him, and yeah, sure, only for a minute.

He’s not asleep. He’s lying in bed, obviously, but he’s awake, looking at the fire with a closed book on his chest. He’s pale and his breathing is still rough and for one awful minute, all Antoine can think is that they never made it home, that they’re still in the damn woods and that he’s stuck here watching his oldest friend die over his stupid fucking heroics and–

S’okay. S’okay.

Antoine raps on the frame and informs Jason, because somebody should, “You look like complete shit.”

“Choke, asshole,” Jason says, but he’s grinning anyway. “How’d you get here?”

“Dove let me.” He pulls the desk chair out enough so he can fling his boots onto the footboard. “My sister sent over a pear tart.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re busy almost dying and she wanted to give Dove a break.” Jason throws a scrap of yarn at him. It…doesn’t even reach the foot of the bed, to be honest. “So she told me, ‘he’s your stupid friend, you take it over’, like it’s somehow my fault you got stabbed.”

“Your sister scares me.” Jason levers himself upright and stacks his pillows behind him. “The army should take her, this would all be over by next Tuesday.”

“It would.” Now that he’s sitting up, he looks…well, he doesn’t look better, but he looks less dead. “How the hell are you still alive?”

“God and the Devil are fighting over who has to take me,” is the flippant reply, like his face isn’t still creased with pain. “You didn’t run into any trouble, did you? With the kids?”

It had been a silent, frantic push. The girl–Amicia–had managed to get it together well enough, for the most part, but her brother had been a little more upset. Fair enough, he’s what, eight?

What kind of monster hunts down a eight year-old?

“Nah,” he says, realizing belatedly that he hasn’t answered, even though they had this conversation before. Jason was…really, really not okay, though, so. “Nah, didn’t even see a deer.”

The fire snaps and they both flinch, Jason’s hand going out to where his sword’s been for two years and Antoine reaching back on instinct for an arrow he doesn’t have– shit–

Just the fire. Just the fire. Not the rats, it’s not…

They’d both accepted, mostly, that there was a very real possibility of dying horribly when they left home. They’d agreed to that. What they hadn’t agreed to, what nobody had agreed to, was the possibility of being eaten alive by swarms of rats.

Here, now, it seems insane. Rats swarming over a grown man in full armor and eating him in seconds? Preposterous. He’s only brought it up once, to his sister, the night he got back. They’d both had a bit to drink and even then, she hadn’t really believed him.

Jason goes slack, breathing hard, and murmurs, “I don’t want it out, but I could do without the sudden noises.”

That’s the thing, isn’t it. Every little darting shadow, or sudden noise, and he’s straightening up and straining to see any place at all where the damn things could get in. And as terrible as it is, he’s glad he’s not the only one.

“Did Dove believe you?”

“Not really. I didn’t…she’s already upset. ‘Cause of me.” He gestures towards his stomach. “I didn’t push it.”

“Honestly, it’s probably for the best,” Antoine admits. “We thought we’d brought you home to bury you.”

“What about you? You share any fun stories?”

“My sister’s skeptical, and I don’t want my nephew hearing anything, so. I let it go.”

They fall silent. Jason returns his attention to the fire, breathing slowly. Antoine sighs, settles into the chair a little more, and tries to remember what it was like not to panic at sudden noises.

He can’t.

“Yknow,” Jason says suddenly, “I could still die.”

“Shut up.”

“No, no, no. Listen. Somebody sent muffins over yesterday, I know they’re down there. But I can’t exactly make it downstairs on my own.”

“Don’t involve me.”

“Think of the guilt you’d suffer if I up and keel without having one.”

Honestly, he wouldn’t. However, depending on where the muffins came from, they could be worth swiping.

“Fine,” he grumbles. “But if I get caught, I’m dragging you down with me.”

THE END

[armagnac-army]

OOC: The Napoleonic Askblog/Roleplay Scene Directory

Here's an Out Of Character post listing the blogs I'm aware of in the Napoleonic RPF Roleplay Scene! It's OOC because Lannes would want to make sarcastic remarks with typos.

If you want (or don't want) your blog on this list, message me and whether you want a main/other blog associated with your name or whether you want to be anonymised! Also happy to include non-Frenchmen and Frev folks.

Doubles or multiple versions of people are welcome, this is a varied afterlife. We all have our different ideas for what this afterlife is like as well.

Feel free to reblog or link to this!

And now we have a OOC discord server to chat about all of this! Feel free to join if you'd like!

The Marshalate

armagnac-army - Jean Lannes, Duke of Montebello - played by cadmusfly

murillo-enthusiast - Jean-de-Dieu Soult, Duke of Dalmatia, and ADCs - played by cadmusfly

@le-brave-des-braves - Michel Ney, Prince of the Moskva, Duke of Elchingen, and ADCs - played by @neylo

@your-dandy-king - Joachim Murat, King of Naples - played by @phatburd

@chicksncash - André Masséna, Prince of Essling, Duke of Rivoli, and others - played by @chickenmadam also playing as his ADC, with appearances from Marshal Augereau, the Cuirassier Generals d'Hautpoul and Nansouty, and the Horse Grenadier General Lepic

@your-staff-wizard - Louis-Alexandre Berthier, Prince of Neuchâtel and Valangin, Prince of Wagram - played by @chickenmadam, as above

@perdicinae-observer - Louis-Nicolas Davout, Prince of Eckmühl, Duke of Auerstaedt - played by @mbenguin

@bow-and-talon - Laurent de Gouvion Saint-Cyr, Marquis of Gouvion-Saint-Cyr

@france-hater - Jean-Baptiste Bernadotte, or Karl XIV Johan of Sweden, played by @deathzgf

@simple-giant-ed - Édouard Mortier, Duke of Treviso, played by @isa-ko

@bayard-de-la-garde - Jean-Baptiste Bessières, Duke of Istria

@le-bayard-polonaise - Prince Józef Poniatowski of Poland

The Grande Armée

@general-junot - Jean-Andoche Junot, Duke of Abrantes - played by @promises-of-paradise

@askgeraudduroc - Géraud Duroc, Duke of Frioul, Grand-Marshal of the Palace - played by @sillybumblebeegirl, also with cameos from Marshal Bessières shared with your-dandy-king

@trauma-and-truffles - Baron Dominique-Jean Larrey, Surgeon to Napoleon and the Imperial Guard - played by @hoppityhopster23 who also plays his modern assistant

@generaldesaix - Louis Charles Antoine Desaix de Veygoux, most likely would have been a marshal if he lived - played by @usergreenpixel

@messenger-of-the-battlefield - Marcellin Marbot, aide-de-camp of maréchal Lannes - played by @a-system-of-nerds

@le-dieu-mars - Jean-Baptiste Kleber, General - played by @chickenmadam

@puddinglesablonniere, Charles-Étienne César Gudin de La Sablonnière, Gemeral of Davout's Corps

@francoislejeunes, Baron Louis-François Lejeune, ADC to Berthier, Artist and Engineer

The Bonaparte Family

@carolinemurat - Caroline Murat née Buonaparte, Queen of Naples - played by @usergreenpixel

@alexanderfanboy - Napoleon Bonaparte, The Big Cheese

@frencheaglet - Napoleon II, also known as Franz, Duke of Reichstadt, played by @usergreenpixel

@rosie-of-beauharnais - Rose Beauharnais, also known as Josephine Bonaparte, once Empress of the French

@le-fils - Eugène Beauharnais, Prince of the Empire, Bonaparte's stepson, played by @josefavomjaaga

@jbonapartes - Jérôme Bonaparte, King of Westphalia, Prince of Montfort

@napoleon-bonapartee - Napoleon Bonaparte, The Head Honcho

Other Notable Personages

@askjackiedavid - Jacques Louis David, neoclassical painter - played by @sillybumblebeegirl

Not French

Russians

@the-blessed-emperor - Tsar Alexander I, the Blessed

@loyal-without-flattery - General Aleksey Andreevich Arakcheev, who runs His Imperial Majesty's Own Chancellery

@god-of-the-army - Prince Pyotr Ivanovich Bagration, played by @deathzgf

British

@wellingthighs - Arthur Wellesley, Duke of Wellington, played by @deathzgf

@the1ronduke - Arthur Wellesley, Duke of Wellington

@banasstre - Banastre Tarleton, Major-General

Spanish

@headlessgenius - Francisco José de Goya y Lucientes, Painter and proud Spaniard

Original Characters and Friends

@the-adventures-of-lydia-brown - Lydia Brown, a jack of all trades and problem solver finding herself in this strange realm with all these dead Frenchmen

Hopster, trauma-and-truffles's modern time travelling assistant

Madam DuQuay, ADC who takes no nonsense, helping out chicksncash, your-staff-wizard and le-dieu-mars

[deceptigoons-attack]

A WHITE MARBLE BUST OF MARÉCHAL SOULT (1769-1851) by Jean-Antoine Houdon (Versailles 1741-1828 Paris), 1813)

'There are only two known marble busts of Maréchal Soult by the great French sculptor Jean-Antoine Houdon. The first was created for the salle des Maréchaux in the Palais des Tuileries and was displayed among other portrait busts of France's leading marshals, generals and navy men. However the bust disappeared in 1871 following the great fire at the Tuileries. The second bust was given to Soult's family, and is mostly likely the present sculpture. This second bust is recorded to be dated 1812, while our bust is dated 1813. However, the pen inscription to the reverse indicates that the bust descended from the family of Count Pierre de Mornay Soult de Dalmatie, Marquis de Mornay Montchevreuil (1837-1905), who was the grandson of Maréchal Soult via Soult's daughter, Joséphine Louise Hortense Soult de Dalmatie (1804-1862).'

(Source)

[digitalyarbs]

The real face of Marquis de Lafayette based upon his life mask cast in 1785 by Jean-Antoine Houdon when Lafayette was 28 years old.

[tina-aumont]

Tina Aumont interview 14

I didn't film for a few years. I played a scene in the metro in “Les Fréres Pétard”. At the same time, we see me in "La Bande du Rex", where I am Higuelin's groupie, but he doesn't really play his own role. It is a comedy. It must be in 85 or 86, and then there is this pantomime, therefore silent, in black and white, Marc Sennet style, with Jean-Pierre Lelaud. It's "Rebelote". Needless to say, Jean-Pierre Lelaud is fabulous, and I play the butcher's wife behind the cash register.

Then you meet the emperor of Z in the person of Norbert Moutier with "Dinousaur from the Deep". How did that happen?

We met in 93 for the filming of "Dinosaur…" Norbert is a friend of Jean Rollin. I especially knew Jean and Quélou. Our roads had to cross. Quélou, to whom I had lent my apartment, wrote the screenplay for “Marquis de Slime” with his American friend, here at my home. They wanted to make it into a feature film. when I returned from Santo Domingo and New York, the script was written. Finally, she introduced me to Norbert, and we shot a scene with Jean Rollin. I play the role of an intriguing nurse and mistress of the doctor - Rollin. Then I starred in Quélou Parente's film, "Le Marquis de Slime", a very beautiful film. For a first try it was successful. And then Rollin's film "Les Deux Orphelines Vampires". In fact, it was just before Quélou's film, it dates from 96. I'm a vampire, well that's it, that's how it's done! A vampire in a Rollin film. He shot his film in New York and Paris.

Have you ever wanted to go behind the camera?

I would like to, but to begin with it would be easier to write a screenplay. I don't think I have the knack for directing. I prefer to be directed.

You don't want to talk about projects? Are you waiting for this to happen?

Absolutely. When I have a project, I keep silent about it out of superstition.

Thank you Tina.

It's been a pleasure.

Interview by Antoine Cervero.

Tina interviewed by Antoine Cervero in 2001. Published in January/June 2002 Cine Zine Zone number 134.

Very special thanks to @74paris for sharing this gem.

[blue-howlite]

hello, hope youre having a good day! im wondering if your request for the vanitas no carte manga is open? >< if so, and you reached the chapter of Antoine de Sade, can i please request a one shot of Antoine de Sade with feminine pronouns (gender neutral r okay tho) that is working as his secretary to help w the senate paperworks and stuffs? >< thank you in Advance!

Oh my goodness yes I love that guy even though we know almost nothing of him, but he's got the "handsome manipulator" pass.

Antoine de Sade x Fem!Reader

YN= Your name

Warnings: vampirism, heavily possessive behaviour, power dynamic, marking, does Veronica wanting to sleep with you count as something to be warned of?

Author note: So I might have gone off track a little. Like it should have been a slice of life kind of thing, and it ended up as something kiiiiinda dark in my opinion. Not too dark but it definitely has some toxicity. If you or someone you love is in a situation similar to what I'm describing here, please get help, I'm romanticising it here because it's fictional but in real life it's an actual issue people can face. Stay safe everyone <3

«Sir, I need you to approve of this report.» you said, leaving quite a few papers on Antoine's desk. He was sitting, sipping a glass of wine.

Antoine looked at the papers with a hint of surprise.

«Was the last meeting with the senate that long?» he asked, picking up the first paper with a hand and still holding the glass with the other.

«Not really, but there was a lot of arguing if you remember. The report would have been even longer you hadn't intervened.» you responded, taking a stack of papers from one of the drawers. You set it on the other side of the desk and started reading through it, standing next to Antoine.

«Remind me to intervene earlier next time.» he said, setting the glass of wine down.

He didn't seem annoyed at all though, on the contrary, he even had a little smirk on his lips as he quietly read the papers. Now and then he would glance at you, but he didn't talk.

Once he finished reading the report and signed it, Antoine turned to you.

«Is there anything else for me, or did my brilliant secretary already do everything?»

You smiled a little, while putting away the documents you just finished reading. You were glad it didn't take you too long to finish that day.

«I already handled the rest.»

«What about my schedule? Do I have some free time?»

«Miss Veronica invited you to have tea together tomorrow; the day after tomorrow, marquis Machina-» you were interrupted by a hand gesture by Antoine.

«So there's nothing for tonight?» he asked, a smile already making way to his lips.

«No sir, you have the rest of the day free of any engagement.» you answered, ready to leave. Antoine noticed you glancing at the door; he got up from his seat, standing in front of you.

«And do you have any engagement, secretary?» he asked.

You shook your head, trying to remain composed even though you were lying. There was something that you had to do, but you could not tell him.

«Then why don't you keep me company for a while? I'll call someone to get you a glass.» he said, already reaching for the bell to call for the servants.

You panicked and reached your hand out, catching his. The moment your hand got hold of his, you knew you were done for. You were barely allowed to stay close to any of the De Sade young masters as you weren't even from a noble family, you were just lucky to have received a good education and to have been noticed by Antoine when you worked as a maid.

Antoine didn't flinch away, but he did look at you with surprise. You expected him to reprimand you or get mad, but instead he pulled you into his arms.

You were too shaken to understand what was happening. You just knew you were close to him. Too close. But you couldn't move, afraid you'd make another mistake.

Antoine placed an arm around your waist and a hand under your chin, lifting it up so that you were looking him in the eyes. He smiled. A cold smile.

«What engagement do you have for tonight, miss secretary? And while you're at it, you could tell me why you lied the first time I asked.» he said, in the most calm and even reassuring voice, yet at the moment it only made him look even more terrifying.

You knew that you were dead either way. If you didn't tell him the truth, he would have probably killed you. And if you did tell him...

You decided to try and prolong your already condemned life, so you started talking.

«Miss Veronica asked to come by her room when I was leaving you... but she also told me not to tell you...» you said, your voice was barely above a whisper.

Antoine stayed silent, waiting for you to continue, but you didn't add anything. Then his smile melted, from cold to warm. His eyes softened, and he pulled you against his chest.

You were waiting, not knowing if he was going to kill you now. After all, you were going to see his sister at night, and you were well aware of Veronica's habits...

But Antoine just sat back down on his chair, pulling you on him and making you sit on his lap.

«I'll talk to Veronica tomorrow, I'm sure she will forgive you. In the meantime, you'll keep me company. Care for some wine?» he asked, offering you his glass.

You shook your head, thanking him in a whisper. You had just went from afraid for your life to flustered. That was not the reaction you expected and your heart went from stopping out of fear to racing out of embarrassment.

Antoine set the glass down, looking at you with intensity

«Were you really going to go to her? Just because she asked you to?»

You gathered your thoughts, trying to regain your composure. Which wasn't easy, given the situation, but you managed.

«She is Veronica De Sade, while I'm just a secretary here. I have to oblige to orders given by my superiors.»

«So if I asked you to let me drink your blood you would let me because I'm your superior?» he asked without missing a beat.

«I- I would.»

«And if I asked you to let me mark you? Would you let me do that too?»

You blushed, but nodded. You were just going along to what he said, he was your boss after all and you didn't really think he would ever do any of that.

So you couldn't help the gasp you let out as you felt Antoine's lips quickly find place on your neck. You didn't even feel his hand move your shirt out of the way. But you did feel his fangs penetrate your skin, and you did also feel him sucking your blood. You were still in his lap so you couldn't really move, but even if you had been free you probably would have just stayed still, like you were doing now.

Somehow you also felt the mark, his mark.

Antoine chuckled and kissed it, then looked at you like a fox taunting its prey.

«So, what about that wine now?»

[galos-writing]

Hello, do you take request? I would love to read something about the Abbe being like at the end of the film, crazy and in a cell, reader is the new director and eventually develops feelings for him? I'm fascinated by the insane side of the Abbe tbh ^^

Thanks !

Hey, Anon! Tysm for ur request, and sorry if I took long to write it, but it pretty much inspired me, more than I expected lmao so I hope u don't mind if I wrote two parts of it ^^ oh btw I found myself using a new writing style, I hope u like it

enjoy!

------

The walls of the asylum of Charenton had welcomed you in a dark and unsettling embrace since you moved your first step inside, and the gazes of employees and patients detailing you while passing by the door of a neglected studio were sending shivers of discomfort down your spine.

“Thank you again for having accepted this job, (Y/N), your presence here has saved us all from failing.” An old but rigid man spoke to you with a stern tone while distractedly reading some papers you signed, his voice barely showing any clue of thankfulness.

You hadn’t liked this man at all since the first moment you met – you barely remembered his name –, but you couldn’t show your contempt for him, so your lips stretched in a polite smile. Years in company of those dry and lame of your Monastery companions had taught you how to put the perfect mask of complaisance.

However, now you finally feel part of a society, the new piece fixed in that perfectly functioning gear; maybe... not perfectly functioning, after all, by seeing the poor souls closed in that gloomy asylum.

“It’s a... pleasure for me to be here, Monsieur. It’s always a nice feeling to know you’re doing some good for who’s less fortunate than us, isn’t that true?” You asked, still smiling, your question a little tease to test what he would have answered you. Yet his glacial stare of response made you regret you had spoken that way.

“Of course. We live a life of privileges, especially since the Lord blessed us with a second chance after the slaughters the peasants have committed during the Revolution.” The man replied after some second of cold silence. Apparently, he was speaking about exclusively his wealthy social rank, even if I was meaning something completely different.

You slowly nod, pretending you were intending each other, and silently follow him outside the studio; the grin on his thin lips made you realize he knew he had made you uncomfortable.

You already were pretty tensed, but every shout or screech you could hear coming from the cells made you yelp.

“I hope you’re able to face every kind of struggle with professionalism, my dear, Charenton needs a leader with a tough shell from now on. And, for how good it may be, Charenton can’t be connected to the name Antoine-Athanase Royer-Collard; my reputation would be stained forever.” The man, whose name popped back in your memory now at his mentioning, explained worried. Pretty selfishly by thinking about his reputation only. But you didn’t lose your façade of courtesy.

“Of course, monsieur. I’ve heard about what happened in this building when it was under the guide of that man… an Abbé, right? I unfortunately can’t recall his name now…” You hummed, thoughtful, as your eyes quickly flashed from a side to the other as you saw Royer-Collard taking you to the end of a very long and pretty lonely hall, some sobs coming in your ears, louder and louder.

“Coulmier. Abbé François Simonet de Coulmier.” The Doctor helped you remembering, with a vexed tone, that made you swallow down, every second even more scared he would vent on you some kind of repressed anger.

“Well, former Abbé, now.” He continued, his tone becoming lighter, almost relieved. “The poor man’s mind couldn’t handle what happened here, and his soul is still devoured by guilt. The curse ghost of the Marquis De Sade took possession of the last bits of sanity left in the Abbé. He’s now irrecoverable, not even the Director that came after could save him.”

You could clearly hear he was actually faking sorrow for what he was narrating, but repressed the urge of rolling your eyes, you were growing tired of his arrogant behavior.

“Oh, yeah, the Abbé Du Maupas.” You said, nodding. You waited a bit to check if he would have given you any explanation about him without you to directly asked. But apparently, he didn’t catch the implicit message.

“What… What happened to him, exactly? Newspapers tell he disappeared, and some recent rumors claim him to be escaped to…”

“We know nothing about him. What we know is that he betrayed us, and abandoned us in the most desperate moment.” The Doctor roughly interrupted you, vexed again. “That’s why I want to make sure you’ll be our perfect leader. We are craving a trustworthy person.”

You were sure he was praising you and making you feel that important just to make sure you wouldn’t have abandoned them, so his reputation would be protected a little more. Until now, he wasn’t giving you the impression of being a man so emotionally involved into the sake of Charenton.

But when you two arrived in front of a specific cell, your mind didn’t care about Royer-Collard anymore. Your ears captured the noises of soft whimpering inside, with the starting of a thunderstorm, that made whoever was inside yelp and let out an agitated louder moan.

Your eyes noticed a little engraving on the door, on the side of the door, quoting: ‘lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate’. You squinted your eyes a bit, trying to understand what language it was, not French for sure.

“Uhm...monsieur?” You called the Doctor, as to encourage him to explain why you two were standing in front of that creepy door. But he raised a hand with the index finger up, as to interrupt your words and shush you. You got a bit offended by his sudden interruption, but soon your vex was replaced by a startle, as you heard the door in front of you loudly slam.

You put your arms in front of you instinctively to protect yourself, the side of your eye noticed the Doctor didn’t even flinch at that.

But your focus was stuck on a pair of eyes peeking from a large peephole on the door: big eyes, their color appeared to be a mix of green and blue, the lashes so long. You could have dared to say they were magnetic and almost sensual if they weren’t wide and frantically looking around. You were so scared by that young man that was on the other side, revealing now a round face and a strong jawline, a mole on the left side of his jaw and a big nose, a messy stubble on his chin and long greasy dark hair. The detail that mostly captured your attention was a scar running up his left nostril from his thin upper lip.

The man appeared as scared as you were, not knowing what to do, he slowly turned towards you and deeply stared at you, not even blinking, his eyes piercing your soul. You hesitantly waved at him, frightened by his stare, before realizing that was another patient and your behavior wasn’t being professional at all, so you cleared your throat and gave that man a kind smile. But apparently, according to Royer-Collard, you were too slow and anticipated you before you could speak.

“Good morning, Abbé. You look splendid today.” He praised with a little sly grin. You blinked and widened your eyes, ‘Abbé’?! You detailed better that man with a blank gaze that was nervously twirling and pulling a lock of his long hair around his finger behind the enforced door, and your heart swelled with pain, so that’s what happened to him. What Royer-Collard said was true.

The patient creepily giggled. “You’re always...so kind, Doctor… It’s thanks to you if all of us patients are glowing…! You gave us... a new light...” He cooed with a very weak and raspy voice, nibbling his chipped and dirty fingernails.

You weren’t so sure those patients were having an actual improvement from the Doctor’s cures, judging by the dead light you saw in the eyes of most of them. Some had been obviously lobotomized, and you could tell the rest of them had been sedated with a massive dose of opium, way more than medicine would recommend. The thought of it made you shudder, and even more the satisfied grin on Royer-Collard’s face, pleased by the praises of the former priest.

You approached the door of the cell, and tried to catch his elusive gaze, your heart swelling up with pain at seeing a man that saw so respected and esteemed to the other side.

“Monsieur Coulmier, it’s a deep pleasure for me to get to finally know you. Your work here inspired me a lot – your patients loved you! I hope you’re finding your peace behind there, after all that happened.” You softly spoke to him, hearing a clear scoff of nuisance from the Doctor at your cordiality. However you ignored that, focused on that patient deeply staring into your eyes, his pupils were shaking, which made you worry for his health and doubt for his wellness.

“My dear… you found yourself in the lair of the wolf, I suppose. May the Almighty shield thy from the evil energy this place is soaked in till the most intimate bones of the damned souls wandering in here...hah-...!” He paused to catch his breath. He was so tensed he had forgotten how to balance his talking and his breathing.

He coughed a couple times and swallowed down; you could tell his throat was so dry – like his lips.

“Your eyes are virgin, they saw no evil in the world, and your heart is pure… rejoice of your innocence, and leave. Leave before you get absorbed by the dark forces.”

And by saying this, you could see his hand approach the peephole, clumsily trying to make it pass through it, and get its way to your face; you noticed his gaze of deep sorrow for you, almost communicating you he was foreseeing what would have happened to you already.

His hand was approaching your face more and more, which made your heart beat fast, defying your common sense and self-control.

But that moment of trance, that connection that was being formed between you and him – so intimate and almost comfortable – got roughly interrupted by the Doctor. He hit the poor François’s hand with his elegant and expensive cane, making the young man yelp in pain and quickly pull his hand back inside.

“Enough with this nonsense, Coulmier. Pull yourself back together once and for all.” The old man harshly scolded him, making the patient roll his eyes.

“You know what could help me, Doctor.” the former Abbé spoke, staring at him in a way that gave you chills; it was cold and emotionless, but deep down swollen in sorrow. He licked his lips to barely hydrate them before speaking again, and took a fatigued and shaky breath. “Paper. Ink. Quill. Three simple tools can help a man’s soul to get cleaned by writing. It’s the easiest solution, but you’re too stubborn to admit I’m right.”

On François’s lips a smirk appeared, showing his teeth being everything but healthy, the sight gave you a deep sense of discomfort. You could tell the Doctor was feeling the same, the air was getting tensed. Nevertheless, the Doctor scoffed.

“And letting you start a new circle of transgression? Hah! Keep dreaming, Abbé.” He snarled at the man behind the armored door, who replied readily with a decisive and outraged spit right in his eye.

That gesture gave you the impression that time had stopped: François was staring at the Doctor with eyes full of hatred and tears. The Doctor was staring back, with superiority. Both completely silent, so much that was deafening you.

He wasn’t showing but somehow you felt like Royer-Collard was loading himself for some burst of rage, or some unreasonable punishment towards the prisoner; you could literally see his face getting redder and redder for wrath. You couldn’t let for anything bad to happen.

“Doctor Royer-Collard, Monsieur… May you allow me to talk to our patient? I mean, privately?” You let out in a shy breath, words spilled out by themselves almost. Indeed the old man gave you the fish eye, while François retained a little gasp, and glared at you surprised.

“...sure. I forgot you’re the boss here.” The Doctor scoffed, kind of throwing you a passive-aggressive dagger, and handed you a big chunk of keys, all for each cell. “Good luck, you’ll need it.”

His behavior was hurting you more than you wanted to admit. You silently nodded, making a face to retain tears, and quickly opened the door of François’s cell, making sure not to slam it out of anger. You accidentally let out a loud sigh of relief when you heard the old man walking away, your brain wanted to ignore the repugnant smell in that cell that immediately reached your nostrils.

“He’s a jerk, I know.” The young man said with a gloomy mutter, making your eyes rush on him; he was sitting in a corner of the room, his legs curled up on his chest and his hair covering his face.

You scoffed and shook your head, wanting to hide your true feelings for now. “I…still need to get used to him. He’s not evil, though.” You smiled at him sweetly, and approached him. You coughed a bit at his strong body odor, but that only made your pain for those patients and their neglected condition grow more.

“Not evil? But… have you looked around the Asylum?! It’s decaying like its patients inside! He..he…” He was starting to get more agitated: his voice was shaky, and his eyes were flashing from one side to the other, as his nails were scratching his own arms.

“He managed to destroy my little heaven in less than one year…” He concluded in a breath, his words slipping out slowly, while his beautiful eyes filled with big, crystal clean tears, the only innocent thing left in that perishing man devoured by the filth of the world.

You listened to him carefully, rubbing his back to sooth him. His past reputation was what inspired you to work in an asylum, and wanted to do a good job like he used to. In a way, you admired him, and wanted him to see his little heaven to shine again.

Your eyes sparkled with hope and determination as those thoughts ran through your mind: yes, you would have managed to give Charenton a new light. Hopefully, that poor man’s shattered heart would have been repaired a little bit.

“I have heard so many things about you, Abbé… you were quite a scandal among all the Directors of the asylums all over France, a man who didn’t fit into standard treatments and threw his faith in experimental new treatments. You’re what those who fought and died for during the Revolution were aiming to: kindness to those in need. You’re an inspiration.” You softly spoke to him, leaning down and reaching your hand out at him, offering him a hand to get up.

That man’s sorrow slowly vanished, giving space to the cutest boyish expression you could have imagined on the face of a grown man: his eyes lighted up in yours, his tears dried instantly and his cheeks colored a deep red. Your words had hit him right in the heart apparently.

He hesitantly grabbed your hand, accepting your help, yet the exact moment your hands clenched to each other, a bond forming between you and him could be felt by both. It felt like a little electric shock starting from your fingers, quickly speeding through your body and turning into a nice warmth in your hearts.

Continue...

Tags: @darknessisafriend @werewolf-and-go-wild @thatdummy-girl @indieblair @ajokeformur-ray @fly-like-a-phoenix @hebimoonlightwrites @jokerflecker @callmejokerr @pursuit-of-comedy @five-miles-over

[dregs-leftovers-parsley]

*shows up two hours late to the interview* my ambitions? none. my clubs? none. my favorite authors? why Lucy Maud Montgomery of course and Antoine de Saint-Exupéry and uh.. oh fuck uh Marquis De Sade?

[winterhalters]

Hey there! I wanted to know... Did Athénaïs de Montespan really pour some love potion into King Louis' cup? And did she ever tried to poison La Fontanges or some of her rivals? Was all of this some wild rumours, or did she do it, like La Brinvilliers had done not so long before? The Affaire des Poissons is so interesnting... Thanks.

hi! i don't think i've ever read a more eloquent version of 'no she did not' than Vizetelly's, so allow me to quote him on that:

One of the principal charges brought against Mme. de Montespan in the Affair of the Poisons was that she had repaired on various occasions to the abodes of notorious sorceresses and poisoners in order to indulge in extravagant practices such as Black Masses, invocations, and witchcraft. Those practices had begun, it was alleged, before she became the King's favourite. How came it to pass, however, that she had recourse to them afterwards ? Where were the four men of the Royal Bodyguard who invariably attended her whenever she drove out without the King ? Where did she leave them, where did she leave her coach, and the rest of her numerous escort—all those folk whose silence she would have had to purchase with hard cash ? How did it happen that all those alleged comings and goings so long escaped the notice of the King, who was kept informed of everything likely to interest him, and whose partiality for "police news" was as keen as became that of his great-grandson, Louis XV, and that of his long-subsequent successor, Napoleon III?

He adds a bit later on:

In accordance with the aphorism that there can be no smoke without fire, it has been held that if the prisoners and witnesses in the Poisons Affair mentioned Mme. de Montespan's name so often, there must necessarily have been something against her. But M. Lemoine points out that the position in regard to Marshal de Luxembourg was virtually the same ; though it has been proved that most, if not all, of the charges against that illustrious soldier were entirely false. Another eminent military man, Antoine de Pas, Marquis de Feuquieres, who wrote the first important work on tactics ever produced in France, and who was momentarily implicated in the Poisons Case, summed the latter up in a sentence which deserves to be quoted : "A few professional poisoners found a means to prolong their lives by denouncing a number of people of position, whose arrest became necessary, and whose cases had to be investigated, by which means they [the poisoners] gained time." "If Mme. de Montespan's name," says M. Lemoine," was repeated in the Affair even more frequently than Luxembourg's, that was because several persons imagined that the magistrates, in alarm at the mere mention of her name, would prefer to throw up the whole prosecution rather than involve themselves in such a thorny business. To more than one of the accused, then, that name must have occurred like a kind of liberating talisman.

As for Fontanges' death, her body was basically a case study for pregnant women dying in childbirth. I don't have her most recent biography with me right now but from what i remember i think we have yet to determine a cause of death, which was unfortunately 100% natural. Everything that could go wrong did go wrong with her pregnancy, but Athénaïs had drawn a target on her own back long before Fontanges even passed away.

[pwlanier]

Muriel, Marquise de Chambrun wearing the tiara.

An extremely rare opal tiara from the family of the Late Jean Pierre François Joseph Pineton de Chambrun, Marquis de Chambrun, Marquis d'Amefreville (1903-2004) and his second wife Muriel.

LONDON.- Dreweatts will offer an extremely rare opal tiara from the family of the Late Jean Pierre François Joseph Pineton de Chambrun, Marquis de Chambrun, Marquis d'Amefreville (1903-2004) and his second wife Muriel, Marquise de Chambrun. Jean Pierre Pineton was the eldest son of French politician and diplomat Charles Louis Antoine Pierre Gilbert Pineton de Chambrun (1865-1954) and his American wife, Margaret Rives Nichols (1872-1949). Jean Pierre married his second wife Muriel in married in 1963 and they spent their 40-year marriage between France, the United States and the Algarve in Portugal.

The de Chambrun family has a prominent history as French politicians in the French Senate and French Chamber of Deputies and were direct descendants of Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette (1757-1834), the French aristocrat and army officer who commanded American troops to victory in the American War of Independence. He was also a key figure in the French Revolution in 1789 and the July Revolution of 1830 and served in French parliament. Such was his impact that he was considered a national hero in both countries and gained the title of ‘Hero of Two Worlds’.

Jean Pierre and Muriel toured America lecturing about Lafayette and his role in the American Revolution and War of independence. Muriel also became a celebrated poetess and won several awards including Ohio Poet of the year in 1976 for her book of poems Sudden Spring and an award from Cincinnati University in 1970 for her first book Salisbury Cathedral. Jean Pierre and Muriel were fêted by American society and acknowledged by several American President's including Ronald Reagan, Bill Clinton and George Bush Junior for their work in promoting Franco-American relations.

Although profoundly deaf, Jean Pierre had studied biochemistry at the Institut Pasteur, and art at the Horace Vernet school. As a member of at the Cercle de l'Union Artistique in France, Jean Pierre became an acclaimed painter and designer of jewellery, wrought iron and crystal for the renowned firm Baccarat. With his background in jewellery, it is thought that the tiara was most probably designed by him. The tiara is exceptionally rare as it is set with opals, hardly ever seen in period tiaras, due to the stone’s fragility and also as some believed that opals held a strange power, that could bring bad luck to its wearer. This superstition was picked up in the British press, however it was eventually dismissed after it was a firm favourite with Queen Victoria, who during her reign owned multiple pieces of jewellery set with opals, which were said to have been the favourite gemstone of her husband, Prince Albert.

“To have a period tiara set with opals is extremely rare, as the opal stone is so fragile, with their composition mainly consisting of water and silica gel”, says Deputy Chairman and International Head of Jewellery, Silver and Watches at Dreweatts. “Of the very few other tiaras set with opals, is the Princess Marie of Denmark opal tiara, an exuberant Art Nouveau creation of large, towering opal set floral sprays. It has not been seen being worn in public since the wedding of King Harald V and Queen Sonja of Norway in 1968.”

The tiara in the sale is an exuberant piece of mid-20th century jewellery design. Opals are highly attractive stones due to their colour play, as they show all the colours of the rainbow. When rotated in light, one can see different flashes of colour, which are caused by the microscopic silica spheres in the stone. The most sought-after colours are red and green. Opals were traditionally found in Eastern Europe, in the Czech Republic and Slovakia. However, in the 1870s, they were discovered in Australia. Since then Australia has contributed to around 90% of the global output of precious opals. The best opals are found in Lightning Ridge, with others come from Queensland and New South Wales. A small percentage of stones also come from Ethiopia, America and Mexico, however these are not as commercially viable as the Australian examples.

The opals found in this stunning tiara are of exceptional quality and we can therefore assume that these originated from Australia.” says James Nicholson. They are set into 18 carat gold scrolled framework, complimented by circular cabochon, circular cut and step cut ruby accents, as well as rose cut and old mine cut diamonds, adding an extra sparkle. Adding to the uniqueness of this particular tiara, it is intended to be worn more like an ‘alice band’ across the middle of the head, rather than at the front. This adds significant height to it, making it a fabulous statement piece.

Courtesy Alain Truong

[scaryscarecrows]

Scaryverse Tim has bad luck with, and thus a healthy wariness of, blond second-in-commands.

Dove's file says she's really nice and keeps her head down. It's true. Unfortunately, it's also true that she can Snap and that's what happened the first time Bruce brought Robin 3 in public. The resultant screaming lecture was. Scary.

(Look, if Bruce didn't wanna be judged for child endangerment, he'd do better.)

Antoine, in any and all timelines that their paths cross, goes from 'yeah, sure, kid, you're nice and all but go home, it's past your bedtime' to taking a potshot at him.

(He wasn't trying to hit him. He didn't. Tim's fine.)

[nightsidewrestling]

M.L.B Bios: DJ Deja / Deja Imani Dickson

M.L.B'S Disk Jockey Deja (Jan 1989)

The DJ of the M.L.B (Mega Level Bitches), Deja, is the only member of the group born in Compton, she's also the only member born in California. As a native of Compton, she is used to the criminality and chaos of the neighbourhood. Deja met Aza and Hutch in high school, and then met Kris and Lola when they both moved (separately) moved onto the street.

"He said he wanted to record a song with us."

Name

Full Legal Name: Deja Imani Dickson

First Name: Deja

Meaning: Means 'Already' from the 'Déjà Vu' meaning 'Already Seen'

Pronunciation: DAY-zha

Origin: African-American

Middle Name: Imani

Meaning: Means 'Faith' in Swahili, ultimately of Arabic origin.

Pronunciation: ee-MAH-nee

Origin: Eastern African, Swahili, African-American

Surname: Dickson

Meaning: Means 'Son of Dick' (Dick being a medieval diminutive of 'Richard', which means 'Brave Ruler', derived from the Old German elements 'Rih' 'Ruler, King' and 'Hart' 'Hard, Firm, Brave, Hardy')

Pronunciation: DIK-son

Origin: English

Alias: DJ Deja

Reason: Stage name

Nicknames: Day, Dej, Mani

Titles: Miss

Characteristics

Age: (As of Jan 1988) 19

Gender: Female. She/Her Pronouns

Race: Human

Nationality: American

Ethnicity: African-American

Birth Date: October 7th 1969

Sexuality: Bisexual

Religion: Christian

Native Language: English

Spoken Languages: English, Spanish

Relationship Status: Single

Astrological Sign: Libra

Voice Actor: Doja Cat

Geographical Characteristics

Birthplace: Compton, Los Angeles County, California, USA

Current Location: Compton, Los Angeles County, California, USA / On Tour

Hometown: Compton, Los Angeles County, California, USA

Appearance

Height: 5'4" / 162 cm

Weight: 127 lbs / 57 kg

Eye Colour: Brown

Hair Colour: Black

Hair Dye: None

Body Hair: N/A

Facial Hair: N/A

Tattoos: (As of Jan 1989) 0

Piercings: Double Ear Lobe (Both)

Scars: None

Health and Fitness

Allergies: None

Alcoholic, Smoker, Drug User: (Underage) Social Drinker

Illnesses/Disorders: None Diagnosed

Medications: None

Any Specific Diet: None

Relationships

Friends: Azahar Gutiérrez, Dolores Park, Esther Hutchinson, Kristine Cobb, Nālani Kekoa

Colleagues: Azahar Gutiérrez, Dolores Park, Esther Hutchinson, Kristine Cobb, Jessica Henderson, Michael Coleman, Luis Perez, Nālani Kekoa

'Rivals': Andre Young, Antoine Carraby, Eric Wright, Lorenzo Patterson, O'Shea Jackson

Closest Confidant: Aisha Dickson

Mentor: Darnell Dickson

Significant Other: None

Previous Partners: None of Note

Parents: Darnell Dickson (52, Father), Aisha Dickson (53, Mother, Née Ross)

Parents-In-Law: None

Siblings: Jamal Dickson (31, Brother), Zaire Dickson (28, Brother), Marquis Dickson (25, Brother), Taniqua Jenkins (22, Sister, Née Dickson)

Siblings-In-Law: Kenya Dickson (32, Jamal's Wife, Née Barnes), Naya Dickson (29, Zaire's Wife, Née Wood), Quanna Dickson (26, Marquis' Wife, Née Bennett), Daquan Jenkins (23, Taniqua's Husband)

Nieces & Nephews: Aniyah Dickson (11, Niece), Darrell Dickson (8, Nephew), Nia Dickson (5, Niece), Davon Dickson (2, Nephew), Shanika Dickson (8, Niece), Jalen Dickson (5, Nephew), Taniya Dickson (2, Niece), Tyrik Dickson (5, Nephew), Tyra Dickson (2, Niece), LeBron Jenkins (2, Nephew)

Children: None

Children-In-Law: None

Grandkids: None

Great Grandkids: None

Music Career

Debut: 1988

Retired: N/A

Genre: Rap / Hip-Hop

(Fictional) Records, Albums & Singles: 'Mega Level = Major Label' (Album, October 1988), Untitled Work in Progress (Due to Be Released Late 1989)

Songs (Record/Album/Single - Song Title - Track Length): 'Mega Level = Major Label' - 'Fighting Words' - 2:52 'Mega Level = Major Label' - 'In My Feelings' - 2:24 Mega Level = Major Label' - 'Twins' - 3:32 Mega Level = Major Label' - 'Strong Female Leader' - 3:05 Mega Level = Major Label' - 'Use Your Voice' - 3:58 Mega Level = Major Label' - 'Booty' - 3:22 Mega Level = Major Label' - 'Silence, Please' - 2:27 Mega Level = Major Label' - 'Go Away (Come Back)' - 3:18 Mega Level = Major Label' - 'Broken Dreams' - 4:20 Mega Level = Major Label' - 'Touching You' - 3:20 Mega Level = Major Label' - 'No Other' - 3:48 Mega Level = Major Label' - 'My Man' - 2:50 Mega Level = Major Label' - 'Mind Melting' - 3:28 Mega Level = Major Label' - 'Go My Way' - 3:32

[oldsardens]

Antoine-Jean Gros, called Baron Gros - A head study of the Marquis Pierre Henri Gaston de Livron, aide-de-camp to Marshal Joachim Murat