#their relationship is awful and fascinating and beautiful and horribly abusive and I want to study it under a microscope

[wacky-nameless-inventor-24]

Think about this THINK ABOUT THIS. Royalty Mads and Black Heron being the only people who can beat each other in a fight. To everyone else they’re untouchable but they stand a chance against each other

like- imagine being the most powerful deadliest person in all the known surrounding area and knowing it. you know and everyone else knows just how dangerous you are and to cross you is death. Your own king holds you in high favor and keeps you close because he knows if he doesn’t he’d be dead in a heartbeat. Then one day your top student, your prized pupil, the kid you raised and who holds you as almost a parental figure and who you’ve spent his entire life pushing to be just like you, actually beats you in a practice fight. You haven’t lost a battle in over a decade and you lose a practice spar to your kid. You demand you go again and you win (and teach him a lesson in the process), but you know he could beat you again. He’s starting to become your one weakness, and not in an emotional sense. He’s suddenly gone from beneath you, someone you can kick around, to genuinely dangerous. You didn’t realize making him just like you would make him a threat.

and on the other side of that imagine having this parental figure who’s hurt you, abused you, pushed you to your limit way too many times, who you look up to and love more than anything else your whole life, and finally being strong enough to beat her. To have a chance at standing up to her. And you expect her to be proud, because this is what she’s been teaching you to do your whole life, right? That’s what all of this has been for? But instead she’s livid- and immediately proves she can still beat you. And she goes harder than she has in years- she doesn’t let you tap out, she fights until you’re nearly unconscious and unable to fight back. It’s not practice anymore, she’s proving she’s still better, she’s still scary. You’ve long surpassed everyone you grew up with in skill, the only person who can still beat you is your mentor parental figure, who isn’t happy you’re finally catching up to her. You’ve become what she’s always wanted- but for some reason it isn’t enough.

And then imagine them meeting in a fight a decade later, sworn enemies, and fighting for their lives against each other. The closest thing they ever had to family and now they’re wholeheartedly ready to kill each other with their bare hands. They’re the only ones who can stand a chance against each other- and for once neither of them is certain they’ll win.

[familyagrestefanblog]

Analysis of the Family Agreste Portrait

Quarantine strikes again and since the Agreste family portrait has fascinated me for a loooong while now I decided to put my thoughts into words and write another essay x3

The amount of informations we get out if it is amazing and its not only highlighting the absolute TRAGEDY it is that this family is about to face such a horrible fall out, it also hints at the former family dynamic before everything went to hell.

So make yourself comfortable and get something to drink, because we will be here for a while.

Here we go: My analysis of this beauty of a fictional portrait

Let's start with the most obvious one: Hawkmoth.

Its commen knowledge by now that the background makes it seem like Hawkmoth is standing behind the Agreste family like a bad omen waiting for fate to take its course and cause their doom. The portrait is brilliantly designed so the illusion is created that Gabriels body (here in a blue suit closer to Hawkmoths normals dark purple one) overlaps with Hawkmoths and a darker line is connecting the two faces as well, which rest on the same height right beside each other. The very same line grows bigger as it goes further behind Emilie - coloring her entire background - showing us that EMILIE is all Gabriel sees when he becomes Hawkmoth. But notice that Adrien on the other hand can hardly be concidered part of Gabriels “sight” at all.

Its forshadowing 101 and damn beautiful if I may say so. But this isnt what I want to focus on in this post.

I want to elaborate on two other key factors that tell us about the former dynamic of the Agrestes instead and what they tell us about the present and future.

The heart:

This is hitting me on another level because look at the heart these three form with Adrien right in the middle! He was so LOVED. This family may have never been anywhere close to ideal but still, there was LOVE and now he's gonna loose it all.

Adrien already lost his mother which led to his father getting even more distant and cold and now his father is becoming increasingly more abusive as he falls deeper and deeper into villainy. Gabriel was never a good father, the show has already made this clear with episodes like "the bubbler", “the collector” or "Gigantitan" for example but gosh there was hope for their little family! The end scene in "Jackady" portrayed it perfectly and I wrote a whole other post just covering the sigificants of Adriens and Gabriels hug in that episode. Check it out here if you want, it goes hand in hand with this one.

Miraculous is all about love and the completely different ways it can affect us, our behavior and actions. Because love isnt just wonderful, pure and empowering, it also can be twisted, destructive and cause the darkst nightmares. And with this family the writers know how to portray the complex love in an abusive houshold thats destined to go up in flames and they also know how to hint at their troubled past with the family portrait.

But this heart visual tells us even more in connection with the positions of their hands. And with these two key factors, lets start with Gabriel:

His hands convey it so strongly. He loves/d Emilie and Adrien so much and no doubt this love for them was certainly the reason why he started his quest as Hawkmoth. But he is now losing himself more and more in the pleasure of his villainy to the point where he forgets why he's doing it in the first place and becomes a complete monster (of a father). But this turn and spiraling into villainy didn't came out of nowhere - this root already had to be in him to grow like that. And this is also something the portrait indeed hints at as well.

Because Gabriel is the only one of the three who:

1. We see so completely open and without hesitation reach out and hold BOTH his family members.

2. Is visually “cut off” from them as well.

But this doesn't mean he was excluded and the only one who truly cared and loved, it just shows that things were more... complicated...as usual.

This is best explained with Adriens hand placements:

One hand is holding his mothers but the other one is visibly not reaching out for his father. But as we all know, that's not because Adrien doesn't love him. In season 1-3 it is made more than clear that Adrien does not hate his father - he loves him alot and tries to be there for him and be patient because he knows that the loss of his mother brought his father terribly down.

Sure, Adrien gets frustrated and angry with him, literally how could he not?? But Adrien tries his best to reach out to Gabriel so they can bond and come out of this tragedy stronger.

But this loving willingness to forgive his father for the chance of growing a father-son bond with him doesn't change the fact that these two didn't had a bond prior to this. And let's be honest here, does anybody actually think this distance between them was caused by Adrien? I don't think so.

So notice how Adriens hand - not reaching out for his fathers - is the only one in the portrait NOT inside or forming the heart.

When the connection of the hands between the family members symbolise their connection to another, then Adrien keeping the hand for his father away from the display of love is VERY telling. It tells us very directly what this distance did to Adriens side of the relationship. Despite Gabriels hand being right there, Adrien does not meet the gesture. And I cannot believe that he did it out of resentment, nothing in the show indicated such strong negative emotions from past Adrien.

It's much more likely that Adrien not reaching for his fathers hand is meant to show us that Adrien felt that he either CAN'T return the gesture because he fears that it'll end in an unpleasant reaction from Gabriel - that it isn't Adriens "place" to reach out to his busy and distant father like that, like it's demanding something - or Adrien simply didn't took Gabriel laying his hand on his shoulder, in the context of posing for a portrait, as a gesture of love and affection.

The way I interpret the portrait is that prior to Emilies dissappearence Adrien did not exactly try to reach out to his father the same way he did from s1-s3, which, I mean, of course wasn't the case. Not only is it NOT the 13 years olds (or younger) job to form an emotional connection to their absent parent - when that’s the PARENTS job - it also wouldn't be necessarily "needed" for Adrien to do so.

Because Emilie at this point was still in the picture so and she was the complete opposite. She was a (or maybe the ONLY) safe, reliable and loving constant of parental attention, affection and care in his life and because of these two HARSH contrasts Adrien learned from very early on to focus mostly completely on her in that regard while kinda blocking his father out.

That most likely wasn't even an active choice whatsoever - Gabriel proofed to be an unreliable resource so Adrien learned to subconciously treat him that way out of self protection. That doesn't mean he had any kind of dislike or malice against his father it just means that he wasn't able or allowed to connect with Gabriel the way he needed. Several episodes show that Gabriel deadass only parented like 15 minutes tops in his life with one of the worst offenders kinda being “Gigantitan” ngl.

So yeah, when I see that the portrait wants to tell me that prior to Emilies loss, Adrien - a 12-13 year old at most - is THIS used to rely solely on the strong bond he has with his mother and not even really reaching out for his fathers love, then I can't help but interpret it in the way that... Well... Gabriel was so distant and emotionally unreliable to Adrien for all his life, that Gabriel simply... wasn't needed by his son. Not at that point of time at least.

And while this may seem weird, because obviously Adrien only now starts to stop craving for his fathers affection and approval (which is btw a horrible, HORRIBLE thing and not something good. A half orphan losing the last remaining hope he had left of having the chance to finally get to form a bond with the only other parent he has left, just to be crushed by disappointment and abandonment all over again until he let's go, is REALLY NOT as much of a good thing people will make it out to be. This is... plain awful) it's actually quite logical.

Adriens hand outside the heart doesn't mean that his father meant nothing to him and therefore refuses to meet and accept his affection (that's literally the complete opposite of what the show shows us), it means that Adriens and Gabriels father-son relationship suffers from a fatal emotional disconnection caused by miscommunication/ a lack of communication.

And this was caused by Gabriel. How? Let me elaborate on that by going a bit far afield (cuz lbh we all have time for this. I’m writing this in quarantine and youre reading this is quarantine, so lets gooooooooooooo).

In "The bubbler" Adrien says that his father "always forgot his birthday", but I cannot agree with this in true honesty. Gabriel is controlling his sons entire life, calls him "the epitome of perfection" and temporarily truly gave up being Hawkmoth for him, he definitely never forgot Adriens birthday.

"The bubbler" even SHOWS us that Adriens perspective of the situation is actually not the truth:

This is Adriens first birthday after Emilies dissappearence and it's incredibly telling how Gabriel handles the planning.

What this entire little sequence tells me is that Gabriel is completely and UTTERLY used to NOT be the one to take care of anything related to Adriens birthday. So Emilie was always the one who did it but somehow - now without her - Gabriel apparently still hasn't even considered changing anything about that nasty non-involvement and just expected Natalie to pick everything up where Emilie left it.

Because let's be real here, knowing Natalie she would NOT have forgotten to get a present if Gabriel truly had told her to. Natalie is never presented to do mistakes like that but Gabriel on the other hand IS definitely presented to us claiming things about himself as ultimate, blameless and true when they simply do not reflect reality. A great example: Gorizilla

You didn’t even speared a minutes of your time for Adrien and he DID try to! Asshat… It's a problem guys. The lack of self awareness Gabriel displays in moments like this is legitimately concerning when you think about how deeply this man is falling right now.

But back to the topic:

Because even if Gabriel didn't even consider doing anything himself for Adriens birthday - not even taking the time to SEE his son (who just recently lost his mother, come on Gabe, really?) - one thing one cannot hold against him: he sure as hell remembered Adriens birthday like any decent parent would and it wasnt portrayed as a this-year-for-the-first-time thing.

And yet Adriens statement still makes complete sense. Because a big, BIG problem with Gabriel is just how much he takes things for granted. He EXPECTS things to be universally known and to never be doubted, just because that's how HE sees them. I will write 10 essays if it's needed to make people understand that Gabriel DOES truly love Adrien, it's just that Gabriel HIMSELF is such a rotten, twisted and toxic person that he cannot see how much his (oppressing) behavior and the way he (doesn't) express his love hurts Adrien and that HE is the one at fault. (for more, once again, read this)

Gabriel LOVES Adrien but he takes the love he feels as such a matter-of-fact that he just completely... forgets to show it.

And when we take Adriens words and look at the Family portrait it unfortunately seems that...

…. Gabriel ALWAYS forgot to show it.

Adriens hand - that should at least be reaching out to his father - is outside of the heart in accepting certainty. Because that's what Gabriels non-presence was for Adrien while growing up: an unreliable and unreachable certainty he had to accept early on as safer to not try to emotionally depend on too much or else he will get hurt.

So yeah, Adrien is the one in the portrait who is very openly not reaching out but only because Gabriel never gave him the needed affection and stability to be able to create that bond.

But let me correct what I said a little earlier: Adrien ALWAYS needed his father. Every kid, especially one in a bad situation like Adrien, does need their parents/friends etc as support system to become independent and confident in a healthy way. And if they don’t have that they WILL crave and look for it!

What Adrien has been doing up to now IS normal for a teenager - humans NEED affection, belonging and safety. What ISNT/SHOULDN’T be normal is Adriens disconnection towards his father in the portrait and just how much Gabriel fails to take care and BE THERE for his son in BOTH TIMES!

Collector:

Bother Christmas:

One thing I like about the show is that it portrays their young main cast with one very important truth: The psyche of a child/teenager of their age will react and adapt so it SURVIVES, even if it results in unfortunate consequences in other relationships and places. Thats the psyches main concern and it'll try to cope with the limited experience and development it has in whatever way necessary to get itself to the next day. A coping mechanism is not there to make you a better person, it ensures your SURVIVAL, everything else is a secondary concern.

So seeing pre-show Adrien not react to Gabriels touch and even feel completely unloved and disconnected from him is no surprise to me. Kids are incredibly observant. They may lack the needed experience and knowledge to truly understand that they deserve better and to stand up for themselves but they are masters in picking up red flags in people and can put this danger into perspective while comparing the different danger levels of their options of people and places to adjust their behavior.

Feast:

Stormy Weather 2:

So the broken connection between father and son we see in the portrait (that Gabriel doesn't even notice but Adrien fully internalized) isn’t there because Adrien “didnt needed” or wanted his father, its because Adrien NEEDED Gabriel so much in his isolated upbringing but Gabriel didn’t LET him need him - so Adrien had to adjust to that accordingly. Big, huge, ENORMOUS difference.

Honestly the most miraculous thing about Miraculous is that Adrien was able to bring up the strength to stay positive and friendly and to forgive Gabriel in hope for a better future. That boys situation is 7 kinds of depressing and traumatizing...

It's just flabbergasting to me how well this portrait shows how basically non-existent their relationship was at that point. And it's horrible to know that this estranged and unformed bond is all Adrien had left after Emilie dissappeared, just alot worse because after Emilie incident Adrien states that his father changed alot for the worse as well.

So to think that all Adrien had left wasn't even this former basically non-existent relationship with his aloof father - who would only barely show his true affection for his son because he's either not around enough to do so or he thinks it "unnecessary to proof his affection" for/to Adrien because he already thinks it so obvious and undoubtable.

Well he thought wrong. And GOSH, it breaks my heart!

So now comparing the "Gabriel" hand from Adrien with the one representing his connections with his mother conveys a pretty harsh contrast.

Because last but not least, let's take a look at Emilies hand placements:

But here is now an interesting difference to Adrien. Whereas we openly see that Adriens side of the Adrien-Gabriel relationship is completely disconnected from the heart/love - showcasing just how badly Adrien has always been neglected by his father - we don't see Emilies hand in her Emilie-Gabriel relationship AT ALL.

Once again just like with Adrien, this doesn't mean she didn't love her husband and that Gabriel was used and fooled by the woman he so utterly adored. It just means that from Emilies point of view things were a bit more complicated. What exactly this is, the portrait is keeping secret from us. We have no way of knowing if and how Emilie is returning her husbands gesture. All we can say is that if she does she is definitely not doing it in such an open and unconflicted way as she does with Adrien.

But since when has anything with this family been this easy?

One thing the portrait makes very clear, Adrien and Emilie had a strong and good bond. Definitely the healthiest because the Adrien-Emilie connection is the only one depicted without any kind of disruption from both sides. Both mother and son are reaching out for the other ones hand creating a whole half of the heart, showcasing their affection for another openly and without any of the implied doubts the other connections display. And honestly? Comparing all the hand placements, the one connecting Adrien and Emilie just comes across as strikingly pure and true (which makes it even worse that it was HER Adrien lost…)

As I said it's a HARSH contrast to the one Adrien shears with Gabriel. This contrast is highlighted even further by the way these three face on another.

Emilie and Adrien are positioned facing another and so are Emilie and Gabriel. Telling us that Emilie was "face-to-face" aka involved with both her husband and son. It is Adrien and Gabriel were this looks wildly different. These two have no way of seeing each other in the eyes the way they stand now/then, further displaying their deeply rooted disconnection. It's portrays perfectly how important Emilie was in this family dynamic, because even though Adrien and Gabriel bearly had a connection at all they at least had Emilie as a link between them, keeping the family together. But then they lost her and where this left both father and son off we know oh too well...

So to collect all the informations we get out if this portrait:

-Adriens and Emilies relationship was the strongest and purest. Both of their hands connect and reach out for another in the heart, showcasing that they had a loving and positive bond.

-Adriens and Gabriels relationship is heavily scarred by a deeply rooted disconnection leaving Adrien feeling unloved and unwanted by his father to the point where Adriens side of their dynamic is outside the heart altogether. Gabriel may love and adore his son just like he loves his wife and never thought he displayed his love for him in a lacking way, but fact is: this love never reached Adrien the way it should have and Adrien is the one in their dynamic who got severely hurt and damaged by it.

-Gabriel was the only one completely unconflicted and happily at peace with the former Family situation. He's reaching out to both his family members with open love and affection in blissful oblivion that neither his wife nor son could return them the same way (to different degrees for different reasons). Gabriel was the ONLY ONE in the Agreste family who didn't saw problems in their lives and thought them all happy, hence why he's so obsessed with changing the past and bringing THIS state of their family back. He was happy and he had everything he needed and loved right with him, of course he wants THIS back. He's not aware that Emilie and ESPECIALLY Adrien did not feel the same about their former situation and that bringing all of them back to this is not the perfect happy ending for their entire family as he thinks.

-Emilie may not have been as unconflicted with Gabriel as he was with her but she is NOT feeling the same disconnection her son feels and isn't depicted with negative feelings towards Gabriel. Her side in the Emilie-Gabriel relationship is neither shown outright positive as with her son or outright bad as Adrien with Gabriel. Her side of their bond is depicted through her unseen hand placement in the unknown area in between.

-Despite their not so unconflicted feelings towards Gabriel - and Gabriel himself being aloof - neither Emilie nor Adrien are actively trying to cut Gabriel out. They aren't flinching away from his touch or exclude him from the heart whatsoever. He's happily included, obviously feeling loved. They may not be 100% happy and Gabriel doesn't notice it, but they aren't denying him his happiness and make him unhappy. Again, he's the only one truly happy here. Something neither Emilie nor Adrien tried to take away from him.

-Emilie and Adrien are facing each other as do Emilie and Gabriel, implying the presence of communication and a bond. Adrien and Gabriel do not face each other, showing their disconnected bond. If they could see each others face Adrien would have been able to see that Gabriels hand is a gesture of genuine affection and Gabriel could see that Adriens expression does not exactly display pure happiness the way he thinks. This also goes for Emilie. Emilie just like her husband is placed BEHIND her son, so even if she is facing him she would not be able to really see just how much Adrien is not satisfied and truly happy with his life at that point (meaning how unhappy being looked up, friendless and at distance with his father actually makes him).

- This fascinating family makes me sad and I like it lol

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

A Look Back on the Twilight Saga

I have never felt older than I have this year, in which the film adaptation of the first book in the Twilight Saga turns ten. Ten years ago, that movie came out, three years after the book. And what a book and movie they were! They inspired so much rabid devotion and equally rabid pushback, with people gushing over the beautiful romance in equal amounts as people saying how the books were offensively awful and filled with misogyny and romanticization of abusive relationships. Golly, I sure am glad discussion of fiction has improved since then and we don’t have dumb arguments like that anymore!

All joking aside, it is pretty interesting to look back on the series. With the passage of time, and the release of so much young adult fiction in cinemas between then and now, I have to say that looking back… Twilight is a pretty good film and, for the most part, a pretty good series.

Now, such a bold statement could never have been made in that period during the heyday of the series, where the popularity of the series was slowly souring and people began openly rejecting the series as trash. But I feel that rejection was just part of an obnoxious cycle I’ve seen a lot in recent years, where anything remotely popular with audiences (such as Frozen) becomes hated at the peak of its popularity, seemingly because of the sole fact that it is popular and not really due to anything having to do with the actual overall quality.

See, here’s the thing: despite the series having a reputation for being poorly written tripe, it really is a lot better than anyone gives it credit for. Now, I’m not going to say the writing is on par with other young adult fantasy series of the time, like Harry Potter or Percy Jackson, because that is just patently untrue. What the Twilight Saga was, and what it always seemed to aim for, was the level of quality of a tacky airport romance novel you pick up while waiting for your flight to kill time. It’s nothing but wish-fulfillment fantasy in which an unhappy young woman becomes the reason for living for several unfathomably hot supernatural men, a sentiment that quite frankly resonates with the modern atmosphere towards supernatural romance and the prominence of self-proclaimed “Monsterfuckers.” Bella’s situation is pretty much a dream come true, is it not? Among tacky supernatural romance novels, Twilight and its sequels are easily the queens of the genre.

Here’s the thing that really sets the Twilight Saga apart, though: there is actually a serious amount of thought and care put into nearly all aspects of the romance’s universe save for the actual romance. Every single member of the Cullen family has a fascinating backstory: Carlisle was a vampire hunter turned vampire who proceeded to venture across the world in the ensuing hundreds of years building up a family and practicing a different way of living; Alice was committed to an asylum and has a past shrouded in mystery; Jasper was a soldier in the Confederate army who was turned into a vampire and tasked with raising a vampire army; Rosalie’s backstory is Kill Bill, BUT WITH VAMPIRES!; and Emmet, while easily the least impressive of them all, still died apparently fighting a bear, and considering how he is one can only imagine what on earth he was doing. Esme is the only Cullen without a deeply fascinating backstory, but even what little we do get is a bit tragic: she lost her child and so committed suicide, or attempted it anyway. There’s absolutely no need for all of these rich, complex backstories for characters in a throwaway romance novel, and yet here they are. And that’s not all.

The rest of the world and overall vampire society is presented in a very interesting way. The Volturi in particular are a fascinating idea, a secret cabal of vampires who rule over all other vampires with an iron fist, but one that is, while a bit tyrannical and unforgiving, seemingly necessary to preserve the existence of vampire society. Hell, their rules don’t really seem TOO harsh, and they only really spring to action when there are vampires fragrantly and blatantly exposing themselves to human society. They wish to keep the vampire world hidden in the shadows, where they can feed in peace away from prying eyes. Their position is understandable in a lot of ways. They also have a very interesting history to them, having apparently wrestled power over vampirekind away from a sect of Romanian vampires. Now, I did say they are a fascinating IDEA; in execution, they always tended to be a bit… useless. Their appearances in New Moon and Breaking Dawn are ultimately wastes of time, as they are never really opposed in any sort of meaningful way and get away in the end with the status quo wholly unchanged. No impact is ever made on vampirekind when they’re involved, which almost makes me wish that they were kept in the shadows and used far more sparingly. Their influence over events in Eclipse, where they only send out their powerful agents, showcases that Stephanie Meyers could use them very effectively when she wanted to.

The werewolves are a bit less effective. While they do have an intriguing backstory, there is something a bit… problematic about shoehorning a bunch of fictional elements onto the real Quileute tribe. On the other hand though, a positive and heroic portrayal of Native Americans in fiction is never a bad thing, and Jacob Black is easily one of the more sympathetic characters until halfway through Breaking Dawn. It’s a very tricky, mixed bag. I kind of wish that the issue with the handling of Native American folklore was the biggest controversy with the series, but there’s actually one far worse and even stupider.

The Twilight Saga has come under fire for being a negative influence on young women, for romanticizing abusive relationships and stalking, and for being some sort of massive insult to feminism. Now, these arguments aren’t wholly without merit, but the issue is that they are being filtered through human understanding and imposed on fictional creatures in a fictional universe. If a real-life human acted as clingy, impulsive, over-protective, and obsessed as Edward is towards Bella, yes, it would be absolutely terrifying. Here’s where I let you in on a little secret, though: Edward Cullen is, in fact, not a human. He is part of a race of ageless semi-undead beings who live off of blood and glitter in the sunlight. He immediately sees his soulmate in Bella and goes out of his way to ensure they end up together, acting on the instincts granted to members of his kind. Trying to fit all of his actions into a human narrative is as fruitless as if an ant tried to explain humanity to his colleagues filtered through his ant experiences. The fact is, Edward operates on a far different moral code than humans. This is not uncommon for vampires in any fiction; Marceline of Adventure Time fame is a vampire who is certainly not above doing some rather sketchy stuff, for example. While Edward’s actions can come off as bizarre and creepy to humans, for a vampire, Edward is actually downright romantic and even benevolent. One also needs to take into account that Edward is a kissless virgin who has spent a hundred years doing nothing but reading romance novels and listening to classical music, which would go a long way to explain his awkward and sometimes offputting ways of trying to replicate human courtship rituals with Bella.

The criticisms leveled at Bella are rather unfair as well; while she often finds herself a damsel in distress, it rarely is something she doesn’t want. When Bella is in danger, it’s because she wanted to be there and put herself there. Yes, she does get into trouble, but that’s mostly due to her being a stupid horny teenage girl with zero impulse control. Recall New Moon, where she constantly did dangerous stunts so she could have hallucinations of Edward chastise her. Bella is, quite frankly, an adrenaline junkie, and I feel she’d rather resent being called a damsel. Even the times when she is in danger, it is no real fault of her own, but rather the fact she is a normal human out of her depth in a supernatural world. Bella is not Blade, she is not Van Helsing, she is not Alucard; she is Bella Swan, normal teenage girl, and she tends to be as effective as your average teenage girl in situations where superpowered monsters are hunting her. Imagine if we applied these sorts of criticisms to other characters in fiction… “John Conner in Terminator 2 is such a worthless damsel in distress character, why does he not just fight off the T-1000?” or how about “Why do the kids in The Goonies not take the Fratellis head-on? Why do they constantly flee from them when they cross paths? And Chunk, getting captured by them, what a pathetic damsel moment.” People not being successful in areas where they are out of their element is not some horribly evil thing. I also resent the idea the series is some horrible, anti-feminist work, particularly because the entire series revolves around Bella’s choice, and when she is not given agency she goes out of her way to take that agency. For all the flaws of Breaking Dawn, and there are many, I will give it this: presenting Bella as being in the right for wanting her choices respected is a good thing. With that in mind, I think the entire series is a lot more feminist than many are willing to admit.

And look, I’m not saying this book is a flawless masterpiece or anything like that. I have mentioned this is definitely a book more impressive for the world it creates than for the actual romance it centers around. But I do feel that, generally speaking, the books never descended to the point many who criticized the books say they did. I say “for the most part” because I cannot even muster up enough good will to say a single good thing about Breaking Dawn. But generally, the writing quality is decent. Even some of the twists on vampire lore are interesting and refreshing.

For instance… the sparkling. This is one of the most infamous additions to the lore of vampires in Meyers stories. When in the sunlight, rather than bursting into flames as vampires tend to do in fiction, their skin sparkles and glitters as if it was encrusted with diamonds. It does sound silly, and it really is, especially when they show it off in the movies… and yet, it is actually far more accurate than just about every depiction of vampires in nearly 100 years. You see, the idea vampires are killed by sunlight is actually a relatively new addition to vampire lore, being created for the famous silent masterpiece Nosferatu because they couldn’t come up with any other way to kill the vampire. In the original novel of Dracula, for instance, the titular count strut about during the day with no ill effect. So, by accident or perhaps by some better understanding of the creatures than most writers, Meyers was more accurate than nearly all contemporary portrayals of the characters. Also interesting – but not nearly so to the point I feel the need to dedicate a whole new paragraph to it – the idea of vampires having a sort of “love at first sight” thing that allows them to discern their soulmate was copied by Hotel Transylvania, so I feel like that addition to vampire lore has its merit as well.

The film adaptations tend to not truly fix the flaws with the storytelling, but instead to paint over them with some truly inspired silliness. The utter apathy Robert Pattinson exudes for his role as Edward Cullen is palpable in how he acts, and it tends to make Edward’s creepier actions actually less threatening than the were in the books – and I’d argue there he wasn’t particularly threathening, despite his angsting. Taylor Lautner’s oft-shirtless portrayal of Jacob Black seems a lot more genuinely, but equally cheesy; his and Pattinson’s onscreen chemistry really gives them the feel of two romantic rivals, which makes it easy to see exactly why there was such a devoted following rooting for one or the other back in the day. Then we get to Bella.

As usual, Bella is a horribly misunderstood character here. It’s easy to blame the books for how one-note Bella appears in the movies – as a romance protagonist, Bella has enough personality for you to care while still being enough of a blank slate that you can put yourself in her position so that you can fantasize about the outcomes – but I almost feel like her portrayal was a deliberate choice. Kristen Stewart is actually a very good actor when in the right role, and I feel like even in the past I’ve been too hard on her portrayal of Bella. I think I might go so far as to say her version of Bella is better than the book, because Stewart actually does inject some vapid, awkward teenage girlishness to the role. That’s something wonderful, especially about the films – the teenagers, more than a lot of other series, tend to feel like real people. They say the dumbest stuff imaginable, but really, is that not what being a teenager is? Everyone was a stupid, vapid idiot as a teenager, it’s just how teens are. So all t hat combined with everything else that has been said, does any part of Bella’s characterization truly feel THAT abnormal for an otherwise normal, brooding teen thrust headfirst into the world of the supernatural? I personally don’t think so; Bella is actually one of the most real characters of the series, an anchor to humanity in a sea of supernatural strangeness, a character that is absolutely perfect in her dull, flawed, overly-romantic personality. She may not be the strongest, or most interesting, or even the most pleasant character in all of fiction… but she has an air of realness to her few other characters can hope to achieve. Perhaps this is why a lot of people rejected and mocked her; it’s so much easier to dismiss and belittle something than accept that it is something real, warts and all. No one wanted to accept the less pleasant parts of Bella, and so she was rejected by all except the fans of the book; meanwhile, seemingly disinterested goth girls would be fought over by two equally strange men for her affection, all while she talks in a sort of half-awake near-monotone.

I was in that situation myself. It’s all real teenage bullshit.

I feel like this more than anything explains why the Twilight Saga ended up being violently rejected by so many people: too many people saw through the supernatural elements and into the real life teenage angst and did not like what they saw, as it reflected their own experiences. It’s so bizarre to say, but Stephanie Meyers may have been too real for her own good, and her portrayal of angst-ridden teen love triangles may have been just too close to home for a lot of people. I’m sure a lot of older people had negative experiences in high school as I did, so anything that reminds them of those stupid, painful years is not going to seem pleasant. With other stories that feature realistic elements with supernatural settings, such as Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, and so on, they never really faced this kind of scrutiny and rejection as while they also are grounded with realistic portrayals of their teenagers, they also take place in overtly supernatural settings; there is no place where an experience could be like that of Hogwarts or Camp Half-Blood. But there’s probably of plenty of places like the dismal, dreary town of Forks, Washington, a perpetually cloudy town out in the sticks where nothing ever seems to happen. Reading about teen angst in such an agonizingly depressing setting will not go over well with anyone who has had negative experiences in regards to the elements portrayed, supernatural dressing or no.

Looking back at the Twilight Saga, after years of imitators of varying quality and numerous attempts by mediocre young adult franchises to capture this saga’s lightning in a bottle, the stories sans Breaking Dawn seem to have aged quite well, and hold up a lot better. Removed from the rabid fandom, overwhelming hype, ad constant mockery, the series stands as a solid and kind of cheesy young adult romance series, one with superb worldbuilding that I have yet to see any young adult series after it match and an absolutely fantastic ensemble cast that is just rife with fanfiction potential. I find that even the lead trio, be it in the films and in the movie, have a lot more layer and depth to them than initially thought, with Bella in particular a character I feel deserves some serious reevaluation. And while I’d never call the series a masterpiece to rival Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, or Lord of the Rings, I do think that the series is good enough to unironically be enjoyed. While there is of course plenty to snark at here – it’s a story featuring a rather honest depiction of teenagers, after all, and teenagers are idiots – I think there is a lot more to like than the insane hatedom of the book ever gave it credit for.

And even if you can’t bring yourself to admit the series is genuinely good (albeit cheesy), there’s no denying that it had a pretty good impact on popular culture. Aside from being the basis for Vampire Sucks, which has the honor of being the only genuinely good Seltzer and Friedberg film, it put supernatural romance stories back into the mainstream again. The biggest example of a supernatural romance film that I can see got a lot of mainstream recognition was 1990’s Ghost, which is held up as a romantic classic; while there were plenty of supernatural romance films between then and Twilight, none of them seem to be recalled fondly or even at all, and none of them can even come close to saying they had the sort of cultural impact Ghost did. Twilight, though… it had a huge impact. Without Twilight, we probably wouldn’t have gotten Warm Bodies, we probably wouldn’t have gotten Horns, and honestly? We probably wouldn’t have gotten The Shape of Water, or more realistically, the movie would not nearly be as accepted. Twilight for better or worse conditioned us to see the humanity in supernatural entities and find attraction in them (not exactly a new idea as far as vampires go, I know, but it definitely put it in the minds of young adults). I can easily see the genesis of the modern crowd of people lusting after the Asset, Pennywise, Godzilla, and Venom being the Twilight Saga; it was a gateway drug that put in the minds of youths “Hey, monsters can be really sexy. Like, REALLY sexy.”

The Twilight Saga is truly a fascinating work, for better and for worse. There is a lot in it that I really admire, and there’s plenty in it that I resent, but even at its worst I can never say that the series was boring. For all the flack I give Breaking Dawn, it is still far more readable than any of the garbage Cormac McCarthy has ever shat out, and nothing in the series was as overtly misogynistic as some of the dialogue in Ready Player One. As cheesy as the film series got, the first was a surprisingly effective indie supernatural romance and the third was a gloriously Gothic cheesy delight, with the second being the awkward but still enjoyable middle film and Breaking Dawn: Part 1 being the only genuinely awful film in the series; nothing positive could be said for the slew of imitators that crawled in this film’s wake, such as Beastly, Red Riding Hood, and even some of the would-be successors to this franchise such as the cinematic adaptations of Percy Jackson, Divergent, and The Hunger Games among others, which despite them being based off of books of far greater critical acclaim had absolutely no respect for their source material the way the Twilight Saga films did. As silly as some of the acting in the movies was – and it got very silly, considering the lead three all seemed to actively despise their roles – none of their acting was as painfully bad to sit through as Jennifer Lawrence’s attempts at acting in the first Hunger Games film, or the entire cast of the Percy Jackson movies. I would never say that Twilight is the absolute pinnacle of young adult literature, but I think a lot of us had our judgment clouded back in the day, and with the benefit of hindsight I think it’s safe to say the franchise was a lot of fun; I’d even go as far to say that it is an underrated work of genius in many aspects.

Removed from the climate that created it and put into a world it helped shape, I think the tale of Bella Swan and her romance of the angsty immortal Edward Cullen resonates quite a bit better. So thank you to Stephanie Meyers and everyone involved with the film series, because without your work, the world we live in would probably be a much less interesting place, with far fewer people horny for monsters. I really don’t think I would want to live in that world.

[lamiaward]

Devour me

I do not own OUAT. Warnings: short mention of abuse

Memories aren’t always things you want to hold on to. Sometimes they’re just there, and you would steal your mother’s money, offer up your power, anything to get them from your mind. You wouldn’t even care whether the procedure was painful, whether they would have to rip open your forehead or drive a knife into your eyeball. Anything better than that loathed, itching memory that won’t let you go.

Right now, on top of a dragon and feeling like she will never stop laughing, there’s one that’s trying to push through all the – she thinks it might be happiness, true all-overpowering happiness. Regina pushes at it, shoves really, but it’s clinging on stubbornly.

Her mother, raising her hands. Sudden forces pushing at Regina, pushing her until she is in the air, constraints wrapping around her, fingers squeezing her throat and she can’t breathe. Regina loves her mother, and always has. Still, a large part of her just desperately wanted away. That part had all to do with the sticky memories, the ones that will never stop hurting her.

She always imagined she would try to outrun them on horseback, but she is running and there aren’t any horses.  

She is on dragonback, and Regina associates the sky and the wind and the cold with her mother’s innovative punishments. It’s hard to forget- no, you can’t forget. You can just push it down, bury it very deep inside you and drop a million heavy things on it so it can’t claw its way up to your eyes. That doesn’t seem to be working very well for Regina, either, and she tries to enjoy the warm scales beneath her legs, the sight of a dozen colours, and the comforting sound of Mal’s wings-

What is it, princess?

She nearly shrieks, and falls of the dragon when the voice sounds in her head suddenly. She can feel Mal adjust beneath her, moving her body so that Regina can’t glide off and she hesitates for a second before sliding her fingers over that spot she accidentally discovered Mal likes to be touched.

“Thank you” she whispers

Princess?

“ Bad memories” she just says, burying her face into Mal’s neck. The wind is harsh, and even the blanket Mal got her somewhere, and the intense heat from the dragon herself, isn’t enough to warm Regina. It doesn’t protect her face either.

The witch

Regina doesn’t answer, and for a while, there’s nothing but the wind howling and her own thoughts muttering and yelling and generally making her feel tired. Then Mal speaks again, and it’s a very welcome distraction.

I have a few unpleasant memories, as well. Fortunately, they are less bothersome in my dragon form

Regina would almost suspect Mal is lying, using Regina’s fascination with her species to distract her. But there’s something – it’s pain, but it isn’t Regina’s. She has never felt like that, like something was ripped out of her.

“What are emotions like in dragon form?”

There’s a short pause, and Regina is suddenly aware of how much she’s asking. She blushes, about to apologize – Emotions are less complicated. Humans- you can hate, and love at the same time. You can be very jealous of someone, and still feel happy that they have taken something they desired. In dragon form, there are less emotions and they are not layered. There’s lust, and anger, and pain. It’s just what it is.

“Oh” Regina bites her lips. “ And love?”

She’s pretty sure there was a chuckle. If we fall in love, it is forever. There is no thing we would not do for our loved ones.

Regina frowns “ You say that like it is uncommon for your kind to fall in love”

It is. We are solitary creature by necessity, and we have not many opportunities to be with others of our kind.

“But you do court if you have the opportunity?”

Regina can feel Mal’s confusion. Court?

“Yes. When you are interested in someone, or your parents think you will be a good match, you start courting. As soon as you have expressed the will to court and the other has accepted, you will be gifted flowers and go on outings and receive compliments. After an appropriate amount of time, you can be wed”

I do know that word. ‘Wed’. It is a ceremony performed by your people, yes?

“Yes. A wedding bounds you together until death”

An do you pray to your gods then, little human?

“We do. There are different ceremonies, and different gods , but praying is often involved”

Dragons have no need for silly ceremonies. We promise ourselves to our loved ones, and we proof it by living it. No need for fancy words, and glittering stones

“ I enjoy weddings- or at least, I enjoy the ones that are not convenience ones”

Convenience- like yours would have been?

“Yes, for power or riches. I do not enjoy those. But the ones that are because people love each other so much that they want their very souls bound – those are very beautiful”

Have you ever seen one of those?

“A few. Mother thought it very important to build relationships with powerful people, or people who would be powerful, so we were invited to a fair amount of weddings”  she swallows. “ Most of them were not for love. But some of them were, and those were just… extraordinary”

It is just words and pretty stones being exchanged, is it not?

“ It is more than that- it is about two people who want to be together, who want to build a life together, who really want to live by those words- “

Your people have odd ideas about what is important

“ What do you think is important, then?”

The strength of your heart, and the courage in your bones.

Regina closes her eyes.  “That is important too, I suppose”

You suppose ? Mal is vaguely insulted, so Regina strokes that spot again, in a gentle apology. “It is important, but you have already decided their strength and courage are enough before you marry. You would not marry them if they did not love you enough. And courage- I think that is less important than kindness”

A dragon would never mistreat their loved one. To them, ensuring the happiness of their mate becomes hunger, lust, rest. It becomes another intrinsic feeling, that needs to be satisfied so that a dragon may live.

Regina is silent for a while, then whispers “ It sounds like anyone would be most fortunate if a dragon fell in love with them”

My people no longer fall in love with humans.

Regina gasps “ So the stories are true? There used to be human-dragon relationship?”

Our species are similar, and many of us used to choose our human form as primary. Until the Dark Clouds, it was common for human and dragon to mate

“The Dark Clouds?” Regina whispers. It sounds like a horrible curse, a terrible tragedy.

The betrayal of the humans. When they attacked dragon kind, and either murdered or took us prisoners.

Regina feels sick. “ We do not call it the Dark Clouds”

No?

Regina shakes her head. “ To us, it was an act of heroism. They- “

She flinches when Mal growls lowly, her body vibrating beneath Regina.  She soldiers on. “ The story they tell us, is that dragons were hurting us. No one dared to let their children play outside, there were so many dragons everywhere. They would sometimes swoop from the sky, and take a child if there wasn’t any cattle around- “

Lies. Some of those children were human-dragon, we would’ve protected them with our last breaths-

Regina gasps, and doubles over. She blinks rapidly, swallows, presses her hand to her stomach.  “W-what are you doing?”

You are feeling my hurt. Our magic is attuned, and-

“ Why does it hurt?” Regina pushes out, feeling the tears slide over her cheeks. She’s in so much pain she can’t even bring herself to wipe them away.

Mal is silent, but this kind of pain, it must’ve been something so awful- she has lost someone, hasn’t – Regina is reminded of gentle brown eyes, and a gentler smile and it hurts even more now. “ Did you lose someone?”

Regina has to grab on more tightly when Mal obviously gets agitated, and she kind of jerks and almost bucks Regina off. Her mother always said Regina asked too many questions, often with a few choice words telling Regina she was a ‘stupid, disobedient girl’. She still asks. “Mal?”

My daughter.

The pain makes sense, awful, terrifying, heart-breaking sense. No wonder it hurts so much- Regina doesn’t even know what to say. She just clutches Mal’s neck, hugging her as much as she is able when Mal is in this form, and whispers “ I am sorry”

Meaningless, empty words but maybe they hold some meaning to Mal still , because the hurt lessens until it is an almost bearable throb in her heart and behind her eyes. She just holds on to Mal, and hopes that Mal can feel her as well. That she knows Regina is furious and horrified for her, and that she –

She cares about Mal.

“It is a castle”. She didn’t expect it, but it’s true: Mal’s home is a large castle, one that would be very beautiful were it not for how it is nearly in ruins. There’s still a kind of beauty to it, the kind of untameable beauty that she loves in Mal as well. All the plants that are growing on the stones- they turn the stone structure into something special, and less cold somehow ( or maybe that’s just how much Regina dislikes castles)

She inhales sharply when there is suddenly a cloak wrapped around her. Mal is in human form again, wordlessly fastening the cloak. She is still not speaking when she gently takes Regina’s hands and slowly exhales, little sparks of fire jumping on Regina’s hands and slowly melting into her skin.

“ Thank you” Regina whispers

Mal nods. “  Follow me, princess”

Regina draws the cloak closer to her body, and follows Mal. Usually, she can’t take her eyes of the dragon but now she is actually distracted by the flowers - there are thorns and so many colours and patterns- and everything else there is. There’s a gargantuan wall, and they have to push through a lot of plants to get through the hidden opening. There are statues, and paths with trees above them. She laughs when she sees the apple tree and Mal plucks one for her.

Inside, the castle is just as strange and wild with an odd kind of beauty.

There’s a small layer of dust everywhere, and spider webs and even ash. It’s very cold, even though there is a very large fire place. The walls seem to have suffered slightly as well, stains and even cracks ruining the beautiful wallpaper. The furniture isn’t much different, as the couches and such are old, and some of the chairs are broken.

“ You have not been here for a long time , have you?” Regina asks Mal, nearly jumping when her voice echoes slightly.

“ No”

“ May I ask why not?”

Mal chuckles. “You are a very polite little curious creature”

Regina bites her lip, and tries not to glare at the woman

“Dragons usually have no permanent homes”

“ Oh. So you just moved on?”

“ Rouse a fire, little one”

Regina huffs  “Stop calling me that”

She is about to add to it, but then Mal suddenly turns around and gets really close. She kind of forgets- well, pretty much everything. “ You are inexperienced, and small despite all the fire in you”

“ Well, I don’t like you calling me that”

“ I refuse to call you ‘Regina’, little fireball”

“ It is my name”

“Yes, and your name is a sacred, dangerous thing meant to be protected with my life. To speak it would be to betray your trust”

“ But I am not- “ she cuts herself off, knowing very well that nothing can bring Mal to what she thinks is disrespecting dragon customs. “ Just do not call me ‘little one’. I dislike that”

Mal chuckles, and leans in. Regina feels herself flush, but refuses to pull away. “ What about ‘my little fireball’. Do you accept that?”

“ Ye- I mean, yes. I do “ Regina almost stammers, and Mal chuckles again.

“ I am hungry “she says

“Oh! I will rouse that fire, then” Regina says eagerly, getting over to the fireplace- and turns around to Mal.

“There is no wood, or anything to rouse the fireball”

Mal looks grumpy. “ That was not what I meant”

“What?”

“You can rouse a fire using magic. I will get us something to eat”

“Okay, but- “ Regina makes a sound of frustration when Mal suddenly vanishes, no doubt off to hunt.  “ If she throws another sheep at me…” she mutters, then stares at the fire place again. It takes her long minutes before she can bring herself to try , and longer ones before it actually works. But then she smiles proudly –

And jumps when Mal is suddenly behind her, lounging on a chair with a small smirk. “You usually have more fire”

“I am still recovering “ Regina protests

“ You spent a lot of time recovering”

“I just-  “ Regina jumps back when a – “ Is this a piece of sheep?” Regina demands, holding up the bloody thing Mal threw at her.

“ Yes. You can roast it, I suppose”

Regina rolls her eyes. Mal still thinks actually roasting your food is ridiculous. Instead of starting another discussion, Regina kneels by the fire and uses her magic to keep the meat above the fire. She curses when it suddenly drops , and whirls around to glare at Maleficent.

“Why did you break my concentration?”

“ Bring me the meat, little fireball”

“Why?”

“I will roast it for you”

Regina manages to extract it from the fire eventually, and drops it in Mal’s lap. “ Here. You try”

Mal arches an eyebrow, and roasts the sheep before handing it to Regina. “ Thank you” she says, and she sounds sullen enough that Mal’s eyes glint with amusement. Although she wisely doesn’t say anything, and they sit in companionable silence for a while.

“ Are we going to stay here for long?” Regina questions as soon as she has finished her dinner.

“ I do not know”

“ Are we going to stay a month, or a week or even a year?”

“ We are going to stay here, until we go somewhere else”

“But- “

“ The library may still be intact”

“Do not attempt to distract me”

“ There are books on my kind there. We have not written any ourselves of course, but there have been humans staying with us that enjoyed their ink and pens”

“Why won’t you tell me how long we will be staying?”

“ Because I do not know yet”

“Why did we have to leave the cave?”

“You were strong enough to leave, and it was clear that you wished for a more … human dwelling”

“ I appreciated you taking care of me , though” Regina says, thinking to herself that she is indeed glad to be away from that cave. It was very cold, and wet.

“Regardless, you made it clear that you wished something with walls”

The woman says the word with enough disdain that Regina looks at her curiously. “ Do you not like your home?”

“ I prefer having space to stretch my wings. Human homes seem too much like cages”

Regina thinks of her own home, the rooms she had to keep to unless her mother wished her to impress guests and the tower she was only supposed to leave if there was some royal that took her. “ I quite understand that”

Mal studies her for a while, then suddenly stands up. “ I will show you the library”

“Thank you”

Mal doesn’t answer, just starts to walk, and it honestly drives Regina crazy sometimes. It is rude, and she first thought it was a dragon thing but then she realized Mal was always looking so satisfied whenever she managed to piss Regina off. So now she tries not to react anymore.

She doesn’t react this time either, just follows Mal as she leads them down a long hall with- “ Are those skeletons? “ Regina hisses

“ Some of them are prey. Some of them are enemies”

Regina swallows “ Enemies?”

“ Humans, but also other creatures. The ogres were too large, so they are not here”

“ Oh. And – “ Regina hesitates, staring at all the skeletons. Some are human-sized, although they’re not always human. Sometimes they have wings, or more than two legs. Some are smaller, and they might be dwarves. There are teeth, fangs, wings, and things Regina doesn’t even recognize.

“ Is that a dragon custom?”

“To preserve the bones of your enemies? It is not an official customs, but many dragons keep the bones in their homes, along with their treasures”

“Oh “Regina is silent for a while, staring at all the skeletons and trying to not remember what kind of people they used to be. “ Did you ever lose?”

“ Dragons forfeit their lives if they lose fights”

“So you didn’t ?”

“ I never lost a fight, no “

There’s something about the way Mal says it that has Regina curious, but just when she is starting to ask, they reach a door and Mal pushes it open. Regina slowly walks past her, staring. It is a gargantuan library, even larger than her mother’s, and there are books everywhere. There’s a small fireplace, and a corner with couches and such.

There’s also a covered portrait and she slowly walks over to it. “ What is- “ she gasps when Mal suddenly moves behind her, and grabs her wrist almost roughly. Her eyes are glowing like when she transforms.

“This place is yours, but you will not uncover this”

Regina slowly nods. “ All right” she can almost feel Mal’s pain again, no matter how well she keeps it hidden, and pushing the subject would mean hurting Mal. That’s the last thing she wants.

Mal slowly lets her go. “ I will be outside. If you wish for my presence, just call my name”

Regina doesn’t know why she does it. Maybe it is because Mal was in so much pain, or she looks sad somehow. And the castle itself doesn’t seem to bring many happy memories, either ( or maybe they do, but they’re tainted because the reason they’re happy, is gone) Whatever the reason, she is suddenly throwing her arms around Mal, and pulling her close.

She smells like wild flowers and matches, and she feels so incredibly warm. She tenses for a moment, but then slowly throws her arms around Regina as well. Regina holds on as tightly as possible, for as long as she thinks Mal might need it- or tolerate it.

When she pulls back, Mal almost doesn’t let her. Regina curses herself a little too, as there was something so special- she really doesn’t understand what she is feeling.

“ Thank you”  she says, and receives a smile from the dragon. Like usually, she has to keep herself from gushing about that smile. Before she can make Mal unbearably smug, the dragon is already moving away from her.

And Regina is left alone, with at least a thousand secrets in the pages around her.

Dragons are not like animals. There’s still a debate about whether to classify them as human/humanoids or animals, but I lean in favour of the former. There is an intelligence to everything they do, from hunting to flying, and I have had many enjoyable conversations with the dragons who allowed me to. They regard human customs , and indeed humanity as a whole, as unnecessary and seem to adapt the expression ‘it is how it is’ to most things- yet, they have deep thoughts, and profound ideas.

To me, what makes their humanity most obvious, is the way they love. Their friends are forever, and they would kill and die for them without thought. Their ‘mates’ ( they use this most often to refer to lovers, but I have heard them refer to friends the same way) are those they value most, and they act around with a kind of thoughtfulness and understanding that is mind-baffling to most of us. And their children-

Everything their children do, is a source of joy for the dragon. No matter how difficult or exhausting parenting gets, Dragon parents fulfil their duties in a way that makes it seem like they have never wanted anything else, but to be there for their children. They are fiercely loving, eternally proud and the most protective creatures there can possibly be.

Even more special, is that it is not just their own children they treat this way. Dragons are notorious for taking in abandoned young, and raising them with the same love they hold for their own. I have seen them pick up human children during hunts, and safely carry them in their claws to the cave ( or other dwelling) to care for them. No matter how hungry the dragon, it seems to be a very rare thing for them to eat children

Unlike the vicious rumours that have been circulating, dragons seem more likely to eat their own tails than human children. In fact, there’s an old dragon adage – ‘to harm a young, is to destroy a kindling fire’- that suggests harming children is one of the only thing dragons consider worthy of very harsh punishments.

“Is that true?” Regina looks up from the journal to ask Mal the question. The dragon is curled up ( in human form) in one of the chairs, studying her quietly. She has returned from the hunt quickly, not giving any explanation for why she did not stay outside- somewhere she is obviously more comfortable.

“ Is what true, my little fireball?”

“ That dragons raised children that were not their own”

“ There have been humans that were abandoned by their own, and instead were claimed by dragon parents”

“But they could not turn”

“ It did not matter. They were kin – scales or skin, they belonged with their parents”

“ But did they not care does children were different?”

“ No. They were part of them, as all our loved ones are. They had dragon hearts and dragon minds, and that all they needed to have”

“ That is beautiful “ Regina says, with a smile

She is silent for a while, reading the next entries about hunting and teaching, when she looks up again with a small frown. “ Is that what I am to you, a daughter?”

“ No “Mal just says, infuriatingly not elaborating

“ Are we friends, then?”

“ Among other things” Mal says, giving Regina one of those looks that have become norm the last time. They leave Regina flushing, and her stomach behaving so oddly, she honestly thought she was ill at first.

She turns back to the test quickly, deciding that she is not going to waste her time questioning the dragon that likes to be as vague and unhelpful as possible. Even though Regina is feeling odd around Mal, and has so many questions-

Why does Regina want to be so close to her- is that a thing they use to hunt? Why can she never stop staring, even when Mal does not use her eyes to hypnotize her ( has not fully been able to for a while now) Why do Regina’s heart and stomach act that way around her- is it magic?

She startles out of her thoughts when fingers drag a path down her cheek, to capture a lock that had escaped, and playfully tug at it. Mal rests head on Regina’s shoulder, continuing to play with Regina’s hair.

“You can’t do that”

“Another human custom, my little fireball?”

“ No, just- “ it feels too good, Regina wants to say. You make me feel things, when you get that close. And I don’t know whether it is good that I feel this around you, or whether it is dangerous.

“ You enjoy this” Mal presses even closer to Regina, an intense heat at her back.

“Do you enjoy it?”

Mal slowly lets go of her hair, and sits down next to her before Regina can even feel disappointed. She pulls Regina in her lap two seconds later, and continues playing with her hair. “I enjoy this more”

“Oh “

“ Are your human customs all right with this?”

“ No, not at all” Regina absent-mindedly answers, caught in – well everything. Mal’s arms around her, her nose pressed into Regina’s neck, the quiet sounds she makes, the way she plays with Regina’s hair- it’s, it’s-

Mal chuckles “ Such silly things”

Regina doesn’t comment, but she doesn’t tell Mal to let her go either. Perhaps she should feel trapped, as the woman is a great deal stronger than her and did not ask for permission. She is dangerous as well. There are reasons Regina should be displeased, or at least uncomfortable, but instead it feels right. Natural. Easy.

The fire cackles softly. Her tea is made exactly as she likes it, and the book she is engrossed in is absolutely fascinating. And everything Mal does is just so good, that Regina never wants to tell her ‘no’.

Life is good, like this.

[illyrianwingspans]

The House of Beasts, Part 3

Another update. I felt inspired today, and it actually came out really well! Here’s part 3. Happy Easter to all those who celebrate it, and happy sunday to those who don’t! Have a lovely day, nonetheless ;-)

Summary: Prythian University, the grounds where frat houses wage wars and throw the best parties yet. Feyre, an art student and girlfriend to the Head of House of the Spring House, discovers secrets everyone’s been keeping from her for the last year and a half. An ACOTAR/ACOMAF AU, which begins as Feylin then evolves into Feysand. Begins as ACOTAR, includes AU of Under the Mountain, but will focus more on Acomaf.

Word Count: 2555 words

Once again, thank you all for withholding any hate and supplying only constructive criticism (I really need it!) and sending any requests, suggestions, etc.  Disclaimer: All characters and some direct and or modified quotes belong to Sarah J Maas, as well as some of the plot points. I take no credit for them whatsoever

Part 3: Secrets

Once the weekend had blown over, a quiet Sunday spent with my music and my paints in the study room, school came back full swing on Monday. I’d planned my schedule so I had all my harder courses packed early in the week, so Thursday and Friday were much more relaxed and spaced out. Sometimes it was a blessing: lazy Friday mornings when all I wanted to do was get out of school and spend the night with Tamlin, and some days, like today, it was hell, and I had no motivation whatsoever to step foot into a single classroom. I stopped by the Good Bean, ordered a double shot of espresso, and hurried my way over to psych, planting myself in the back of the room with my laptop and my coffee, my fingers hovering over the overpriced keyboard of my Mac Book that Tamlin had bought me at the beginning of the year. A good start to the year, he’d called it.

Today we were discussing Stockholm syndrome. How it was named Stockholm syndrome, in 1973 when two gun men in Stockholm held two hostages as prisoner for almost a week, and by the end of it, the hostages were in complete agreement with their captors, approving of the choice they’d made to hold them captive. The syndrome affects people with any kind of abusive relationship, whether it be child abuse, abusive relationships or even some prisoners of war have fallen in love with their captors. I found it fascinating, really, and kind of disheveling.

Nevertheless, the day went on, and I stopped to have my weekly lunch with Lucien, seeing as though for some reason our schedules seemed to coordinate on Mondays. We were sitting near the window, looking over the quad, seeing everyone passing by.

“I want to know, Lucien,” I said lowly, somehow paranoid that people were listening in. “I need to know who she is. If she’s really harmless, then you shouldn’t be afraid to talk about her.”

Lucien shot me a helpless look, then breathed a sigh of submission. “Amarantha is the owner of a club on the outskirts of campus. The building looks small from above, but it’s underground. They call it Under the Mountain.”

It was fitting, the name. Prythian University was built on a hill, I guess, the highest building pretty far up, yet it was an easily walkable incline. The view from the top was glorious, though, spreading across the whole city. I wouldn’t go so far as to say it was a mountain, but dramatics, I suppose.

“She’s ruthless. A lot of underground dealings go on, whether it be drugs or any of the sort. But she’s cruel. And horrible. And she’s done many, many bad things to many people. Including all the Heads of Houses.” His tone was filled with disgust.

“Has she done anything to Tamlin?” now all I felt was concern, concern for the people of this campus, for the other Heads of Houses. I hadn’t met any of them yet, but nevertheless, a life was a life, and it should not be dimmed of happiness due to the doings of one messed up person.

“I…” he trailed off. “That’s for Tamlin to say. When he’s ready.”

I rolled my eyes, and balled the wrapping of my lunch with my fists, slinging my bag over my shoulder. “You know, I’m not an idiot. I can tell something’s wrong, and the more you assholes are going to be cryptic about it, the more I’m going to push to find out.” I stormed away, leaving him there on his own, and blasted the angriest song I could find on my phone as I stomped to art class.

Today, my fingers itched to paint flames. Destruction. Something dark and gruelling and awful, anything to rid myself of the anger that consumed me. But, instead, when I walked into class, a model was standing there, his back to me as he discussed quietly with Ms. Smith. He was dressed in dark, casual clothes, and his black—more navy blue in the sunlight—hair was familiar for some reason. I sighed. No flames today.

I set up shop with my regular spot near the side of the wide, beautifully lit classroom (thanks to the almost floor to ceiling windows) and readied my palette and my brushes. By the time class started, my sketch book was ready on my lap, my slender fingers wrapped around my favourite pencil. I’d been doodling on one of the pages, waiting for the model to step onto the tiny elevated surface, when the teacher addressed the class. I snapped the book shut and tucked it away.

“Good afternoon, everyone. Today we have a model, and though I know some of you were hoping to work on your own personal creations, I thought it’d be a nice change to have someone come in as inspiration. Some of you may be asking yourselves: is it going to be another nude?” the class chuckled along with her, and I gave a small smile. “Not today, folks. Today we’re concentrating on portraits…” she trailed off, and I scanned the room, looking for where the model had gone, when someone tapped me on the shoulder.

I flinched in my stool and turned around—to see Rhysand leaning against the wall, a smirk on his face, his arms crossed and looking absolutely smug. I couldn’t help but fight a grin.

“I didn’t know that you painted, darling” he murmured, a caress to my ears. My toes curled within my slip-on vans. This man. I should not be having these reactions for anyone who wasn’t my boyfriend, but I guess Rhysand Orpheus was the glorious exception.

“I’m here on an art scholarship,” I supplied lowly, trying to focus (yet failing miserably) on Ms. Smith’s words. “You’re the intruder in this classroom.”

“Yes, well, Ms. Smith is an old friend of mine and she happens to love my face,” he gave me a wink, and I rolled my eyes. “But you see, darling, my best feature is really my body. Especially one part of it, right below—”

“Oh, keep your mouth shut before I barf all over my canvas, you prick,” I said it with good humour, but I was truly embarrassed when my cheeks heated.

“Feyre? Are you alright?” demanded Ms. Smith from the front of the classroom, a displeased frown upon her face.

“Yes, fine,” I squeaked the reply. Shooting Rhysand a look that could kill, I kept my focus at the front.

“Well now, Feyre,” the way my name rolled off his tongue had my toes curling all over again. it hadn’t even occurred to me that he had no clue what my name was. He’d been calling me darling all this time. “I wish you luck. Not many can capture all this beauty onto a canvas.” With another wink, he walked away to the front of the classroom, sat upon the lip of the upraised surface, and forced his features into neutrality. Before I even realized, my fingers were already at work.

The first things that showed up on the canvas were his eyes. Only a brief outline, of course, but out of all the features that danced across his face, those were the ones that demanded attention. Then came his nose, his lips, eyebrows and jaw. And finally, that gorgeous sweep of hair, perfectly tousled yet somehow, every strand was exactly where it was supposed to be.

I ditched my pencil once I was satisfied with all the outlines, then brought out the paints.

I wasn’t even thinking straight. All I could see was his face and his features and his damn eyes, those beautiful eyes, and he may or may not have stared at me every once in a while. I didn’t notice. I was too caught up in my work, in the colours and the features, I was too caught up in him. My blood rushed and my heart soared, and I thought to myself how long it’d been since I felt like this. Like everything in my life could be accomplished if I gave myself to it.

Even once the class was over and people began to file out, I was still painting. Finishing his features, adding touch ups or shading here and there. Filling out the background, though, that was key. Finally, when I stepped away, there he was. Rhysand Orpheus, against the backdrop of a dark night sky.

I don’t know why the night was just so fascinating and comforting for me, but it was. It was infinitely dark and that may scare people, but I somehow felt…comfort. Amongst the darkness.

“It’s extraordinary,” the whisper was breathy against my ear and I jumped, dropping my paintbrush.

“Jesus Christ,” I swore, picking up the brush and dousing it in water. “Can you not?”

But Rhysand just stood there, chuckling to his heart’s content, leaning back against the wall as he was moments? No, almost two hours ago. I hadn’t even realized we were the only ones left in the classroom. This happened often, though, me being the last straggler. Ms. Smith found it charming, actually, that I poured that much time into my work, and she trusted me to lock the place up after I left.

“But it’s just so fun to see you jump in your skin,” he teased. “But of course, Feyre, in all honesty, I believe this is the best depiction I’ve ever seen of myself. And there have been many, believe me.”

I rolled my eyes. “My God, if you love yourself that much, you can keep the damned thing if you like. You probably wouldn’t be able to stop staring at it.”

“Well, of course! How could anyone take their eyes of this?” he gestured to his face.

“I can quite easily, thank you very much. Now leave. I’ve had enough of you for one day.” I shooed him away but he stayed put. Even while I boringly packed my things and put the canvas on a drying rack, carrying it as gently as I would carry a child. Once I was done, I slung my canvas bag over my shoulder, and stared at him.

“Well?” I said. “You going to walk me home?”

This time, a true smile, I think the first time he’d given me one, lit up his face. “Of course darling.”

+ + +

“As you said so many times, a handsome man like you must have a girlfriend, right?” I raised my eyebrows at him, and he shook his head, laughing.

“Not quite, darling. Women may be attracted to me, but they don’t stick around.”

“What does that mean?”

His eyes had a far off look to them, and he frowned a little when he said, “I’m not a good person, Feyre. Unfortunate as it is.”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” I scoffed. “From what I’ve seen so far, Rhysand, you’re very kind. A goddamn prick,” we both chuckled, “But you’re kind.”

“Thank you,” he stared at his shoes for a moment while we walked, “That means a lot, Feyre. For what it’s worth, you’re extraordinary.”

I blushed, and before I even knew it, we were at the Spring House.

“I’m afraid this is about as far as I can go,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets, staring up at the white brick of the House.

“What are you saying? Come in. They won’t kill you.”

“Well…” he trailed off, but feeling bold, I grabbed his hand and dragged him up the stairs.

“Come on. Just a few minutes. I want to show you something.” He sighed dramatically and I rolled my eyes.

Many heads turned once we entered, and I ignored them all, heading straight to the stairs that lead to my room, up on the third floor. And we were almost there, stumbling and laughing, when we ran into someone.

That someone being Tamlin.

The three of us paused on the landing of the second floor, each looking to the other, and I spotted Lucien in the background, whose eyes widened as he quickly approached us. The tension was fathomable in the air, and it seemed as though Tamlin was about to burst at the seams with rage.

“Tamlin Atwell,” Rhysand said with ease, ever so graceful, hands in his pockets. “It’s been a while. Amarantha sends her regards. And reminds you that time’s almost up.”

My head whipped to Rhys. Amarantha. This woman seemed to be intertwined with all their lives, and I was getting to the limit of being in the dark on all this information. And what did he mean that time’s almost up? What the fuck was going on? I stayed quiet though, knowing if I snapped at them, I would only make things worse.

“Rhysand. What are you doing with my girlfriend?” distaste dripped from every syllable that Tamlin uttered, and I winced.

“Girlfriend?” Rhys laughed, looking between the two of us. “The beast finally found someone to love him.” He laughed again, looking incredulous. This wasn’t the person I knew. This wasn’t the kind, albeit cocky prick that’d gotten past my walls of adamant within the past few days.

“Yes, girlfriend,” Tamlin growled. “Tell Amarantha that I haven’t forgotten. I will be there.”

Rhys chuckled, then suddenly turned and gripped both of my shoulders. Not enough to hurt, but just enough that I couldn’t move. This person, who I’d been laughing with only moments ago, now set fear chilling through my bones. Would he hurt me? I had no clue. Maybe that whole nice act had been a façade to keep me from seeing this side of him. His true side.

“Let her go,” Tamlini barked, striding quickly towards Rhysand to tear him off, but he didn’t move an inch. He only stared into my frightened eyes and said, “I wish you the best of luck, Feyre, because once Amarantha is done with you and your boyfriend…” Rhysand shook his head and loosened his grip, true sadness filling his features.

He stepped away, wiped invisible dust off his clothes, and faced Tamlin. “Always a pleasure, Tamlin. Lucien.” He gave them each a nod, held my gaze one last time, then vanished down the stairs without another word.

Instantly, Tamlin was by my side, an arm around my shoulder, and I could feel my hands shaking. Why would he do that? Why would he ever hurt me? He’d been so sweet and kind…I shook my head.

“I’m so sorry Feyre,” he pressed a kiss to my forehead, leading me to my room, but all I could do was stare straight ahead, still shell-shocked. “Rhysand Orpheus is a dangerous man. He’s Head of the Night House. It’s a sick place. Taunting people is a sport for him.” He spat each word. “You should’ve told me about him, Feyre. I would’ve dealt with it.”

I nodded, and he extracted my bag off my shoulder, then led me to the bed, where we both curled into the sheets. I couldn’t speak. I knew that I was overdoing it a little, but I really did like Rhysand. He’d been so kind. Why…? I couldn’t even form a single thought.

So I welcomed the aching darkness when sleep greeted me, and prayed that I could erase any thoughts of him from memory. He was gone.

[mysteryfanfictheatre3000]

Back to the Frollo, Chapter 11

Warning: everyone has a nervous breakdown.

Chapter Eleven

"I do believe the ball was about this size", Claude Frollo said as he held up a hefty Rome Beauty. "I thought you didn't want to be reminded of that 'unfortunate incident', Claude", I said as I nodded my approval of the apples he had chosen. We ended a full day's activities and Claude was getting tired. I could always tell when he's had enough, for he appeared clearly agitated and became easily irritated at the slightest provocation. Come to think of it, he was in a similar mood on that fateful day.

He’s in a similar mood literally all the time, because he’s crazy!

I reminded myself to tread softly whenever he gets this way, especially when brought on by too much work, or, in this case, too much pleasure. On the way home, Claude looked at me and said, "Danisha, looking back on it, the whole incident was so insignificant. Yet, we nearly lost each other..."

Let me guess, something stupid and insignificant happened and it’s going to be treated like it’s a travesty.

Within minutes we wheeled into my driveway. Once inside, Claude started a cozy fire while I unpacked cider, apples, and gingerbread. I called out to Claude, "Do you still like lots of cinnamon and nutmeg in your cider, baby?" No response. "Claude, did you hear me?" I walked into the living room to find Claude Frollo stretched out in front of the fireplace, sound asleep. Poor thing. All that running around really wore him out, I guess our treat will have to wait.

The constant referral to a middle-aged pervert as a “poor thing” is creeping me the hell out. Even if he weren’t a genocidal murderer it would be weird.

I gently covered him with a blanket, snuggled next to him, and pondered his words, "We nearly lost each other." And all because of the unfortunate combination of a pleasant afternoon, an ill-tempered official, and an errant baseball.

****** What a glorious afternoon! The Parisian summer proved to be quite pleasant, nothing like the oppressive hot, humid days back home.

Wouldn’t it be worse, because of the lack of deodorant, perfume, frequent baths and any other basic hygiene, and also no AC? Everything would be gross and hot and smelly.

Fern had left Paris a few days before because she had promised her son a trip to Texas before he started his second year at college. Fern didn't want to leave me alone in Paris but she had no choice. "Can you manage to keep yourself occupied while I'm gone?", she asked.

“Yeah, bye, just gonna abandon you in the 1400s because my adult son wants a vacation.”

"Sure, Fern. Go on. Have a good time", I said, adding, "I'll stay out of trouble. Promise." Fern hugged me good-bye, "Good! Keep it that way. I don't want to return and find you stuffed in the stocks...or worse." I knew she was referring to Claude Frollo, but I wasn't worried; Claude and I were on friendly terms. What could possibly go wrong?

He could try to burn you to death?

The kids had begged me to teach them some new games, so I brought out all this playground stuff: jump ropes, balls, and baseball equipment. I was hesitant about bringing the baseball stuff, knowing that it would be nearly 400 years before the game's invention, but what the heck: Just throw the ball and hit it, what's so difficult about that?

Why and how did she get the equipment to play these games? And why are all the parents in the city just A-OK with letting their kids hang out with this strange lady from a place that does not yet exist? It seems like they’d be accusing her of witchcraft or something, not making her the village babysitter.

The children were truly fascinated with learning baseball. I'll admit, for 15th century kids, they quickly picked up on the game. I took the kids to the square near the Palace of Justice to practice pitching and hitting. One little boy had a tough time swinging the bat, and I, being the patient teacher I am, offered to show him the proper swinging technique.

Oh, I can see where this is going.

Now I'm not the athletic type; in fact, the last time I held a bat was in high school, and I was lucky I could hit the ball. "Here, honey", taking the bat in my hands, "let me show you. Keep your eye on the ball." A little girl with a potent pitching arm threw a fast ball. I missed it. The kids started laughing, but I was cool about it. "Okay, so I'm a little rusty. That's all right, baby", I told her, "just pitch it again."

If she’s so abysmal at sports, why is she obsessed with teaching them to play?

She pitched it hard and fast this time, and, with a stroke of luck, I hit it! Crack! The sound of the ball against the wooden bat was like heavenly music. Then I heard the shattering of glass, a sound every ballplayer dreads. Sure enough, I had hit the ball with such force, it sailed up and across the square, and straight through Judge Frollo's window.

This is the most cliche meet-cute outside of “oh, no, I just happened to crash into you and spill all my papers and OMG I’m such a klutzy klutz!”

The kids were visibly frightened, for they knew Frollo would surely and severely punish them, but I told them not to worry. It was my ball and I broke the window. . I'll just apologize, offer to pay for damages, and he'll forgive me. End of story. I had no inkling of what was to transpire between us as I ascended the Palace steps. Come on, I swallowed hard as I knocked at the door leading to his study, he'll forgive you. After all, we're friends...right?

He doesn’t really have positive relationships with anyone in the movie/musical this was based on, especially with women. In the show, he was awful to his brother and his only interaction with Floricka involved shoving her onto the ground. In both, he was horrifically abusive to Quasimodo for no reason. He was awful to Esmeralda (in the play, tried to rape her in front of her boyfriend!) and then tried to murder her (and succeeded, in the play.) He just isn’t a friendly guy, period.

"Come in, Danisha," Claude softly said. I briskly entered the room and immediately began atoning for my carelessness. "Oh, Claude, I'm so SORRY about the window. I'll help pay for it, I swear I will. We shouldn't have been playing so close..." Claude Frollo shot me a look that could melt the polar icecaps. "Give me one good reason why I should not arrest you now."

Now this is more in-character.

I was taken aback. Surely he wouldn't punish me even after I apologized. "Claude, I said I was sorry. What else do you want? Look, I'll work it off...help pay for replacing the window. I'll wash all the windows. I'll even scrub the floors with a toothbrush. Just say you accept my apology."

Toothbrushes didn’t exist then, did they?

Claude pondered a bit, still staring icily at me. Finally, he said, "You have admitted your guilt, offered an apology, and I must say I'm touched by your offer to pay for the damages. However, horrible as it is, I must do my duty."

And we’re slipping out of character again…

I trembled with fear and anger. I was afraid of being punished and angry that Claude Frollo, a man who professed to be my 'friend', could once again turn on me just like that. "How can you do this? I thought we we're friends. We were really getting along..." Claude interrupted, "Oh my dear Nisha, we are still friends, but..." He paused in mid-sentence, then snapped his fingers and said, "I have an idea! Working off the debt does seem like a viable alternative. You shall perform so many hours of work, I'll forget this little incident, and all's well." Claude offered a slight smile as I sighed with relief, "Claude, I don't know...thank you."

And that one little moment of actually being in-character is gone. It was fun while it lasted, but alas, all good things must come to an end.

Then I added, "Now that's over, may I please have my ball?" Claude Frollo looked at me with twinkling eyes, then walked over to his desk and deposited the ball in a drawer. "I'll return this offending party when your debt is satisfied, and no sooner."

With twinkling eyes. Like a messed up, genocidal, overly religious Dumbledore.

My eyes were wide with disbelief! "That was a special autographed ball! I caught that last year and waited in line for God-knows how long for...How could you?"

If it was a special autographed ball, why did she let a bunch of kids play with it where it could easily get lost? And why is the loss of an autographed baseball treated like more of a tragedy than all the other screwed up stuff Frollo’s done?!

"Let me repeat. You shall have your ball once you fulfill your punishment." Claude walked over to the broken window and traced the jagged glass remains. "You shall start tomorrow. I'll have ready a list of duties to be performed. Do try to be on time, my dear." He flashed a wide, wicked grin, his voice was cold and distant. I wanted to sock him, really ram my fist into his smug, smiling face.

He’s letting you off easy, dude! Be happy he didn’t murder you or have you beaten to death! He burned down a city because Esmeralda had the heinous crime of being pretty, I don’t even want to know what he would do to someone who broke his property.

"And how long will this punishment last?" "The remainder of your vacation", came his quick response. "You can't do that! What will I tell Fern? What about Quasi? The kids?..." I was too angry to speak any more. Claude walked up behind me, hissing in my ear, "Well, Danisha dear, you should have thought of that before. Now, take your punishment or else..."

Or else he’ll brutally torture you to death. Doing some chores is tame in comparison.

"Or else what?...you know, I really should knock you out!" And with that, I swung around and was ready to deliver a perfect right hook, but Claude quickly grabbed my arm and I found myself locked against him. "You lowdown, mean son-of-a...let me go!", I screamed as I struggled to free myself.

This is like that scene where he gropes Esmeralda and sniffs her hair. Except Danisha deserves it.

Claude Frollo wickedly laughed in my ear, "You really are a WILD one!" The more he laughed, the angrier I became. I kept struggling in his grasp - Damn, but he was strong! - and called him every filthy name I could think of. I kicked, I screamed, and, in a last-ditch move, I locked my foot behind his, knocking us off balance. In a tangle of black velvet and blue calico, we tumbled to the floor, with me still kicking and flailing away. Somehow, C ab8 laude managed to pin me down on my back.

C ab8 laude? How do you make a typo that bad?

"How DARE you! How DARE you!", he said through clenched teeth as he pinned down my arms. I couldn't move an inch; he was that strong. "Claude! All right! I give up! Just let me go!" Visions of me dangling from a rope, stretched out on the rack, or, I shuddered, tied to a stake raced through my mind. "Claude!", I begged, "Didn't you hear me? I said I give..."

I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say that if you meet a guy and he grabs you and won’t let you go, it probably isn’t going to be a healthy relationship.

Without warning, Claude's mouth came crashing down on mine. I tried to free myself, but his kiss...it was so physical, insistant, intensely passionate. Claude relaxed his grip, I stopped fighting, and soon my arms encircled him. His hands were entangled in my hair, and mine stroked his soft iron gray locks. I could feel myself tremble with enjoyment, but my mind kept fighting what my body was feeling.

This is literally sexual assault.

Suddenly, Claude released me, sat up, and looked at me with pained eyes. "Oh, my darling", he said with panting breath, "I didn't mean...Oh, Danisha, please forgive me." I was too angry, too confused to say anything. All I could do was fight back tears. As I got to my feet, Claude caught my hand, kissed it, but I pulled away. "Please", he begged, tears streaming down his face, "stay with me." He reached out to me again, but I stood my ground. Through tears I said, "I wish I never came to Paris, I wish I never met you."

I wish you never came to Paris too, because then this story wouldn’t exist. But here we are, and here I am. Sigh.

I fumbled through my skirt pocket and pulled out a coin. Just before I turned to leave, I tossed it to him. "What is this?', asked Claude, his voice still quavering. "In the immortal words of Travis Tritt: 'Here's a Quarter, Call Someone Who Cares'.

That makes absolutely no sense in the context of this story. Does Frollo even know what a quarter is?

I walked out of the room, only to hear Claude Frollo's booming voice behind me, "Get out! Get out of my sight, out of Paris, and out of my life!"

He sounds like an emo teen yelling at his mom. “YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND MY LIFE!”

I then heard the crashing of books and furniture. I paused outside the door and I could hear him say "Damn her!", over and over, punctuated by muffled sobs.

He’s crying over this…? Does he not have the entire Cathedral Guard at his disposal? If he was really so upset, he could just throw a hissy fit in the same vein as what he did with Esmeralda. It would be even easier, because Danisha’s a complete moron. Esmeralda was smart enough to evade him; ‘Nisha is too dumb for that.

I almost re-entered the room; I actually began opening the door, but then I decided, who cares -- Let him have his tantrum. Then I walked out of the Palace of Justice for what I thought would be the very last time. Once home, I started packing my things. Heck, I wouldn't even wait for Fern. I'll hitch a ride on a boat to England, stow away on one of those spice-and-silk trips to the Orient. Whatever. I desperately needed to get out of Paris and out of Claude Frollo's life.

You’re going to abandon your friends and family and be forever trapped in the past because you made Frollo mad? Everyone overreacts so much to mundane things and ignores important stuff (like genocide!) it’s bemusing.