#ferocioushonesty

[myxcenterxstage]

Would you believe these bickering dorks eventually get married? - art by myxcenterxstage

Aka any scene in Hello, Dolly! between Horace and Dolly perfectly fit in with our dear producer Javert and diva Priscilla in Madeleine’s Opera House!

@reverdies / @ferocioushonesty !! <3

[thetollofthebells]

Hi there! How do you feel about duplicates (other Quasimodos)? Mine is on a sideblog so you don't have to see it and I won't reblog Quasi-specific things to there unless you're okay with it, but if you're uncomfortable with even that much I can unfollow. Thanks, & all the best :)

[ Hi friend!  Honestly, the more Quasimodo’s the better!  I love seeing other people’s interpretations of him/how others perceive his character/how he’s impacted them.  Depending on what version of him you’re doing, I’m totally down for interactions too!  In other words: Please bombard me with Quasi ]

[ronmanmob]

    MEME Describe your muse in 5 quotes / pictures!

tagged by: @tarnishedhalo

tagging: anyone who fancies playing, but especially: @hislittledxll, @quietgrxce, @pollysolomons, @damnedcrybaby, @cajuncur and, @ferocioushonesty

[fitzjmes]

cont. from here // @ferocioushonesty

“Thank you, Sir,” Fitzjames exclaimed and gave his guide a jovial pat on the shoulder. He swayed slightly as he nodded with a chuckle. Drunk as he was, he could appreciate a stranger’s concern for his wellbeing. “I’ve to return to my ship,” he explained, “Or, well, I shall try.” He laughed again. “You French have such windy streets, and they all look the same. Damn difficult to navigate, if you ask me.” 

James had, already once, lost his bearings on his way back from the pub. Perhaps he should not have insisted on going alone, but his vanity had bested him, and accepting guidance should have been an embarrassment. Now, perhaps, he regretted it slightly. The night was getting dark, and he was growing more tired by the moment. 

[lavcnderladies]

@ferocioushonesty liked for a starter.

That knock on the door is one Aspasia has been expecting all evening. One’s husband isn’t just murdered without some form of questioning following the incident, no matter how invasive it might seem. Secretly she is relieved, glad to be free of Jean-Claude’s brutish behavior, but she knows better than to show it. After all, isn’t the wife normally a suspect, innocent though she may be?Instructing the maid to let him in, Aspasia retires to the parlor, selecting the closest chair to the fireplace while she fidgets with a handkerchief between her fingers. She lets him catch her attention first, not wanting to appear even the least bit forward. 

“Do let me apologize, I am normally a much better hostess.”

[extraordinarygrrls]

Continued from x

It’s who I am, what an odd thing for a man to say. He’s an inspector, sure, but it’s his job, not his identity. Jammes dances at the Opera House, but she’s not a dancer, this wasn’t what she wanted her life to be forever. Did Javert have family? Friends? A hobby? She furrowed her brows at him, almost... Concerned.

A small shrug was a response to his question. “Maybe.” Jammes answered, looking out as the managers argue over yet another note, yet another case of extortion from the Opera Ghost. This chaos was their responsibility and they were handling it ever so poorly.

“I haven’t decided, yet. I can’t be a dancer forever, but this... It’s fascinating, isn’t it? I mean, you have to be pretty smart to evade the authorities for this long. Maybe it’s my calling in life to solve the mystery of the Opera Ghost. And that’s why I’m here.”

@ferocioushonesty

[songandflame-archived]

@ferocioushonesty replied to your post: My guilty pleasure is imagining what Fantine and...

ok but now you have to tell us your conclusions….

Okay, but just imagine their daughter having all of his physical traits. His dark hair and brown eyes but her mother’s curls. She’s petite like her mother, but very to-the-point like her father. 

Imagine Javert reading her bed time stories and Fantine joining in because although her reading has developed considerably, she’s still not very quick at it and so although she struggles being the one to read the bed time stories, she wants to join in with it.

Having Javert play hide and seek with the both of them and playfully putting her under arrest before tickling her until she’s laughed so much it simply becomes silent laughter as little arms reach for her mother’s safety. 

UGH. I CANNOT.

[therapardalis]

❤️ & 💋 (he knows better than to say the 'l' word but he'd die for her, which pretty much adds up to the same thing to him) and they've got some nice platonic rapports going in the other AUs :)

[Shipping meme from @ferocioushonesty .]

Right back atcha 😉

I’m thinking Javert wouldn’t think the ‘l’ word also because he wouldn’t be 1000% sure that’s what it is, poor pedantic guy 😂

In the AUs, Noir!vert is taking her home to meet the Mister which is kinda adorable.

Sail!vert … Still not sure what’s going on there … >.>

[notringwinner]

      ‘     well  ,  it    ----    yes  ,  rather   ...   typically rangers DO patrol the shire borders  ,  but I  ,  er  ,  shall we say   ...  wandered off for a bit   .      ‘

[medisinals]

character solidifying 1 & 2!

character solidifying questions | @ferocioushonesty | no longer accepting

blackwell + parents!

1. How does your character think of their father? What do they hate and love about him? What influence - literal or imagined - did the father have?

        First off, Blackwell doesn’t see anyone in his life as his father. There’s Augustus, his mother’s husband, who was probably the most present in his life, but wasn’t his father biologically and made it exceedingly clear he didn’t want to be his father socially. There’s Eoin, his biological father, whom he never met. And there’s Cathair, the gardener on his mother’s estate, who was probably the closest he had to an actual father figure, but… still not all that close, tbh.

        Augustus was entitled and insecure, a son of old English nobility reduced to marrying the noveau riche for money. He kind of hated the child’s existence. The child was a product of an extramarital affair; Augustus couldn’t look at him without seeing evidence of his wife’s infidelity and his own emasculation. He was all in favor of offloading the child elsewhere- they had three sons already, they didn’t need anyone else’s brat- but his wife Florence held the financial power in their relationship, and if she wanted the child raised as part of their family, Augustus had no way to refuse.He coped poorly, including projecting a lot of his rage and disgust onto the child.

        Publicly, of course, the child was Augustus and Florence’s own. The family knew of Florence’s infidelity, as did certain of their staff, but that secret wasn’t supposed to spread. The child looked more like his mother than either of his alleged fathers, so he didn’t seem out of place among the family, but Augustus worried that something about the child would give him away, so he wasn’t often brought with when the family went out in public. This was a matter of uneasy compromise between Augustus and Florence.

        When the child first started asserting his own gender, Augustus was… violently opposed. It took Florence’s interference to establish safety for the child, and even then Augustus only tolerated the child in the absolute worst sense of the word “tolerate.” If he couldn’t do anything about the child, he figured grudgingly, he might as well keep someone else’s bastard son as someone else’s bastard daughter.

        As soon as Florence died, Augustus found a way to get the child out of his sight. Florence’s will provided for the child’s schooling at a well-renowned boys’ school in England; what mattered to Augustus was that he would be gone. He sent the child away under another name, and gave him no reason to return.

        Blackwell doesn’t see Augustus as having had a significant impact on him or his life, but really- Augustus taught Blackwell to expect no compassion and no understanding. He taught him spite and stubbornness and survival, and to seek security wherever and however he could find it. He taught him how quickly things could be taken away.

        Eoin, as previously mentioned, was never part of the child’s life. Everything the child knew about him was secondhand: that he was a local (read: Irish), that he was a tailor, that he was a drunkard, that he left town six months before the child was born, that there must have been something wrong with him and that that must be why the child walked with a limp from his very first steps. Even then, the child held doubt on most of what he heard.

        And then there was Cathair, the gardener. Cathair taught the child the names of flowers and how to coax them into beauty. He taught him superstition and safety; he taught him which plants were safe to eat and how. He taught him Gaelige in stories and jokes and songs, even if the others would rip it back out of the child’s mouth. Cathair was the one who pulled the child out of the half-frozen pond when he nearly drowned one March. Cathair was the only one to show him kindness for kindness’s own sake.

        The child was attached to Cathair, of course. He tailed the gardener as he made his way through the grounds, listened to everything he said. They were far closer than Augustus and the child had ever been. Still, Cathair wasn’t exactly a substitute father. Close, but Cathair wasn’t available or reliable in the way a child requires. Which isn’t Cathair’s fault- it was never his responsibility to adopt or even care about his terrible boss’s creepy kid. The fact that he chose to show the kindness and care that he did, even if he couldn’t step in as an actual parental figure, did make a significant impact on Blackwell as a child, and on the person he would become.

2. Their mother? How do they think of her? What do they hate? Love? What influence - literal or imagined - did the mother have? 

        Florence was… very smart, and very driven, and very strong-willed. She was also petty and self-centered and often lacking in compassion.

        She cherished her fourth child as a symbol of her autonomy. She felt trapped in a loveless marriage, living a life that wasn’t entirely within her control. Her affair with Eoin was a rebellion against those trapped feelings, a way to prove to herself that she could break the rules that bound her. Her decision to tell Augustus about the affair came from the same impulse to prove he had no control of her, as did her decision to keep the child.

        She was the child’s first and strongest supporter when he began to assert his own gender. That, for her, was another power play. She knew how Augustus hated the child; defending and supporting the child was more about her showing her defiance of Augustus than it was about any actual affection or care for the child. 

        Of course, Blackwell was young when he knew his mother. A lot of the nuances of her motivations escaped him. He was always sharp, though, and he could read a situation well enough to know not to expect certain things from her: she wasn’t warm, she wasn’t particularly attentive, she wasn’t very interested in anything he had to say to her unless she could find a way to use it towards her own goals. But she was still the closest thing he had to a figure of safety. She defended him from Augustus’s wrath. She allowed him to grow up as himself. Whatever her motivations, she was a vital supportive presence in Blackwell’s early life.

        And then again, she was also the first of many relationships in his life to use caretaking as an excuse for controlling behavior. The fourth child was forbidden from many of the freedoms that his older half-brothers were allowed to enjoy (including such things as being able to leave the manor grounds), with his “delicate constitution” always being cited as the reason. (“Delicate constitution” can mean many things. Here, it is being used to mean you’re trans and disabled and we have no idea what to do with that.) To be fair, there may have been valid concerns about the child’s health- but no one ever brought up his health except to use it to prevent him from doing something. The real reason he was kept so cloistered was a compromise with Augustus. Florence had to give some ground, and that ended up being that the child’s existence was mainly hidden from the larger world.

        Florence taught Blackwell the importance of having allies stronger than he was. He learned that it wasn’t important whether or not someone loved him- what mattered was whether or not they were willing to defend him. She also taught him that any perceived vulnerability could and would be used against him, even by those who nominally stood on his side.

        And her death when he was 8 was what convinced him he wanted to be a doctor, but hoo boy that’s a whole nother post coming.

[facelessinthecrowd]

Continued from here.

@ferocioushonesty​:

“Oh.” Well, that did explain it. Javert understood at a logical level that drink did this to a person, and it didn’t particularly surprise him that she of all people would get into such a fix. On the other hand, he couldn’t just leave her like this. Not in so public a place. It would constitute some sort of infraction. Sighing, he bent down and seized her shoulders, roughly trying to right her into a sitting position.

“All right, but you can’t do that here. Come on.”

If she didn’t feel so unwell she would have snorted in reply to his reaction. Except everything hurt and she was sure any movement would see to her embarrassing herself further as she threw up over the cobbled backstreets of Paris. That, or she’d sob, she wasn’t sure which would happen or if she could muster some sense of self control and prevent anything of the kind from occuring.

Despite his reputation, seeing him there was almost a comfort. Even if he had arrested her in the past, she could always guarantee he would be a constant. “Don’t, let me get up myself.” As intoxicated as she was, she knew he would hate her more should she vomit over him. “You know you could leave me here... I’m not in anyone’s way...” much.

[myxcenterxstage]

“Seeing Eye To Eye” - art by myxcenterxstage

When the Smol vs Tol fights emerge, what is the solution? To stand up on a chair to get up in their face, that’s what! Bonus points: It’s so silly they both burst out laughing and stop fighting!

I wish I could find the original tumblr post that inspired this art...but it basically went along the lines of: “Whenever my parents get into a fight, my 4′11 mom has to stand up on a chair to get in my 6′4 dad’s face, neither can hold a straight face any longer and just burst out laughing and stop fighting. This is why they’ve been married so long.”

@reverdies 

[walkingshcdow-a]

(The answer when you have overlapping ships is always a poly pile. Well, it's an idea.)

((Usually, I’d agree with you completely and totally. Unfortunately, in the case of Percy/Marguerite and Percy/Andrew, “The Scarlet Pimpernel”, for all its foppery and crossdressing, is steeped in heteronormativity. That I walked away from the novel, convinced that Marguerite was demisexual and Percy was bisexual is probably more a testament to my queerness than to my ability to perform literary analysis (though I do have some stunning literary analysis on the matter). 

Orczy goes out of her way to emphasize the love between Andrew and his fiancee, Suzanne, as well as the love between Percy and Marguerite. To create a poly pile, I would have to include Suzanne and I haven’t given her character enough thought to do so. 

However, now that you mention it, I feel like the four of them would make a great polyship? The romantic/sexual dynamics would be between Percy and Andrew, Percy and Marguerite, Andrew and Suzanne, and mayyyybe between Marguerite and Suzanne and/or Marguerite and Andrew. I can’t see Percy and Suzanne having that kind of connection.... probably because they don’t really interact in canon? Woops.

You’re about to read the book. You tell me what you think when you finish and HMU. (I have both Percy and Marguerite. I saw you mentioning picking up a muse on your other blog. Seriouslyyyy hit me up!!) ))

[rubiesintherough]

“Is there a reason you’ve been following me for an hour?” (for Eliza!)

(( @ferocioushonesty ))

Was her talent for such things fading or were people in this place simply becoming far wiser to her well-intentioned thieving ways?  Neither option was preferable. Yet, either way, it was apparent she’d been spotted… even despite her best attempts to blend with the shadows of the street. 

For a moment, Eliza considered running. But, that compulsion was hastily squashed along with the fear she felt at having been seen… perhaps she could still get a coin or two from him. After all, she looked miserable enough, all tattered clothes, and bruises, and smudged dirt. Plentiful signs of living on the street, to be certain. Perhaps, she could make his heart ache enough for her sake to part with money for a meal. 

An act was immediately assumed. Dark eyes that had — only a moment ago — been sharp and calculating, softened to a practiced look of pleading as she slipped from the darkness, taking care to accentuate the slight limp she suffered from a misplaced step earlier in the day. Gaze fell to the ground, downtrodden.       “ Please, sir… “    There was a waver to her voice, a nervousness well rehearsed.     “ I was only wondering if you have change to spare? “    And, as if by will, her stomach gave a rumbling grumble. All the pieces of her performance falling perfectly in place, Eliza was fully confident in her ability to play heartstrings as some might a violin. 

[shysweet-hellhound]

would you ship any of your muses together? who?

Multi Questions For the Mun || Accepting! || @ferocioushonesty

HmmMMmm Funny story I’ve got a bunch of personal writing projects so technically I do since all the characters in there are my ocs lol. But on this blog, I do like the idea of Inquisitor Polly and Coriander, and maybe Amanda and Bee? 

[nousauronsmal-blog]

continued from x || @ferocioushonesty

Montparnasse tsked at that. Of course, he had been the one to steal the man’s wallet, and a countless amount of other wallets before his, but he wasn't about to just up and say that. Despite his pickpocketing statistics being a point of pride with him-- he was slightly egotistical, not stupid. 

“Everyone falls in love with me eventually,” The young criminal noted with a smile before continuing, “And one witness is barely credible. You have no actual proof that I stole anything other than one man’s attention. Which isn’t at all surprising, honestly, I’m incredibly eye catching.”