murroyilodel

[murroyilodel]

#fanart #this is great :o

[murroyilodel]

Surliness met spark. With her hair in place and her favourite dress catching the breeze as she skipped up the steps to the porch, a little smoke and snappy greeting could not faze her.

"Another course can be temptation and not deterrent." A happy retort that held no trace of annoyance returned. "The food here is so good, yes?"

Frollo stood outside his car and lit a cigarette before entering Lucy's home, where he saw Esmeralda approaching. "I suppose there's little point in hanging onto the idea of you losing interest in attending these dinners. Perhaps I should tell Lucy to add another course and pray you grow bored."

#thecurseisinourblood #v. in another life you and i were enemies #have i used this icon before? #probably #but she's so pretty here

[murroyilodel]

One of the free sketches from the work break on the Disney film "The Hunchback of Notre Dame", the full images and photos are available tomorrow on my Patreon!

https://www.patreon.com/laura_panico_artofficial

Have a happy new year !

#fanart

[murroyilodel]

EVEN THE INNOCENT slept uneasy, when conscience weighed heavy in one's heart. Esmeralda tossed about in her tent. How carefree she had felt just a night ago, as she ran away from the confines of Notre Dame and returned to the safety of the Court of Miracles. All she had cared then was to reach home, where she had been welcomed with loud cheers since she had the rare distinction of outwitting her people's mortal enemy.

But at what cost? Esmeralda sat up and buried her face in her hands. This was not a simple matter of escaping blundering soldiers and being forgotten. She had not thought of the horrendous consequences that could follow, and that did follow. She had not calculated on the sheer... pettiness of the Minister too embarrassed to lose to a lowly Roma.

Not pettiness. She remembered.

It would be unwise to arouse Frollo's anger further.

The Archdeacon proved to be right. In a single day, Frollo wrecked havoc across the city. It was only late in the day that news travelled to Clopin and the rest of the Court of Miracles of Roma living above being arrested and even citizens' homes being turned upside down to search for her. Her! Nothing but a common dancer. Unable to sit by, Esmeralda disguised herself with Djali under her hood and left to see the situation for herself.

Her terror when she arrived at the miller's home, in time to witness Frollo torch it. The family's screams echoed in her head as she recalled the scene. She could feel the heat of that blaze, and imagined what it must have felt for the children. No one knew, but she would have stepped forward to save them, even if it meant being caught by Frollo and facing certain death herself. Thankfully, Phoebus braved the fire and pulled the family out.

Was it gratitude that moved her?

She might have had a brief moment of sweetness in the kiss she and Phoebus shared in the belltower, but that moment vanished swiftly. The miller's home was only the start. Having tasted fire, it was as though Frollo's self-righteousness spurred him on to burn the city.

Did he not love Paris himself?

Now alone, the guilt that she had pushed aside when she had to focus on saving Phoebus returned tenfold. Perhaps not everyone was so fortunate to have a captain rescue them. Did people get injured? Did people... Esmeralda clutched at her dress. What should she do? Continue to hide?

As though the fates chose to reply, she heard a commotion and saw Djali hurry back to the tent to pull her out. People gathered around the platform usually used for Clopin to make announcements. And an announcement he shouted out in glee, while Esmeralda's eyes widened in horror when she saw both Quasimodo and Phoebus standing there with the nooses around their necks.

"Stop!"

No. No deaths because of her. Esmeralda leapt forward with great determination and quickly explained the whole situation. Embracing both Phoebus and Quasimodo affectionately, what no one anticipated was yet another dramatic twist of events. Frollo and his men were here, but the fates protected them and it was Frollo and his men who were the prey and not the hunter.

Esmeralda's mind whirled. Phoebus, ever the chivalrous hero, wrapped his arm around her to keep her steady. For many minutes, she could not react. Disbelief filled her as Clopin and his men stripped Frollo down to the barest of clothes. Was this truly it? Was this how it would end? All her inner struggle would vanish as this man perished and her people became free?

"Master..."

It was Quasimodo's voice, the voice of an angel, that snapped her out of her daze. She looked at him and saw how he too was torn. At that point, she related to him more than anyone else. They bore guilt, a different sort of guilt, but guilt all the same.

No deaths because of her. Could that include him?

She felt the sunlight from the rose window of the cathedral bathe her with warmth.

She told herself she must be mad. He did not deserve to be saved.

Shrugging herself out of Phoebus's embrace, she walked towards the platform.

"There won't be bloodshed today. Let him go, Clopin."

In a Place of Miracles

TRIUMPH. A seemingly innocuous mishap presented itself in the way of an unwisely gifted talisman. It dangled from the hands of the deformed hunchback as he held it up. Unbeknownst to the reluctant companions, it reflected in the hungry, grey eyes of the minister. To think, Esmeralda held the secret of his career on her hip only to give it to her enemy’s ward. A fatal mistake. Claude Frollo watched, concealed in the darkness from the two ignorant men arguing too loudly in front of the red door of Notre Dame. A surge of disdain pulled his lips over his teeth in disgust. Phoebus was proof that soldiers were merely fodder, a handsome oaf who threw himself into danger for the sake of his newest conquest. The promotion to Captain of the Guard had been much too generous for him. Still, he risked it all for that girl. Jealousy soured the judge’s gut, prickling him with an uncomfortable irritation. Esmeralda’s taste in that man was an object of scorn, making his blood boil. Frollo loathed her oversight of admiring that bumbling idiot. Phoebus was about to realize that Esmeralda wasn’t worth having Judge Claude Frollo as an adversary. Frollo closed his eyes in contempt as he took a deep breath. Anticipation replaced ire, as the judge imagined his bloody, blond head roll from his shoulders.  Stalking in the shadows, the judge’s army followed his lead quietly as they trailed far behind the two oblivious men. Once they reached the graveyard, Frollo ignited a torch to survey the entrance to the sanctuary which harbored every thief and heretic in the city. The heavy stone which concealed the steps was carelessly cast aside. Flames glinted in his gaze as he smirked and permitted himself a haughty chuckle. These were the boys to whom Esmeralda entrusted her life? Claude lifted his robe with a pale, bony hand as he descended the steps. He sure hoped his little witch enjoyed his surprise. No one was prepared, and so, when Esmeralda pressed her face against the chest of her precious Sun God, he held his head high with arrogant delight. The only man allowed to touch her from this moment forward was himself. But soon, his smirk vanished when the sound of a sickly gasp disturbed the air, and then another. He barely had time to withdraw his knife as a swarm of men dressed in skeleton outfits flanked his backline. There should not have been so many of them, but over ten of his men were stabbed beneath the arm avoiding any armor, puncturing their lungs and bleeding out. Fighting for his life, the judge held onto the belief that he brought enough men, that they were more prepared and better armed, but as more and more of his men slipped away, he realized that they were saving him for last. He could not overpower ten men, although he managed to injure four of them before his dagger slipped from his left hand. Numbly, his eyes fixed on the metal of his last chance before they dragged him unceremoniously to the noose.

They wanted a spectacle. The judge refused to give them one, even letting them strip him of the expensive velvet of his robe while he stayed on his knees. Clad in nothing but his white undershirt and black hose, the sound of cheering was deafening in his ears. Looking for Esmeralda with a sneer on his lips, he no longer saw blonde or red hair. He was going to die without getting the chance to lay his eyes on her again. Clopin, the King now stood in front of him with a knife in his hands. He bounced his index finger over the tip of the blade. “What I should do is slice your throat in front of everyone, let you bleed out, but it might be more satisfying to watch you hang. If only I could kill you twice.” Saying nothing, Frollo watched him with an unimpressed and repulsed scowl, the only sign of his irritation being that of his flexed jaw. “Is everyone ready?” Clopin smiled broadly. It was his unhurried and calm demeanor that unsettled the minister. Eyes moving rapidly, he could not pick out Esmeralda in the crowd. Did they flee? Claude’s heartbeat finally escalated. Death did not scare him, but dying without seeing her-- “Ask the question!” someone howled from below and everyone roared in delight. The king laughed. “Perhaps one of you could perform the arduous task of relieving this scrawny, old man of his virginity?" The jeers and laughter were dizzying. Claude could look death in the face unfazed, but humiliation? “I thought not!” Clopin cackled giddily. Frollo may be too thin, but he still had plenty of lean muscle. Rapidly twisting his body, the minister used his rage and remaining strength and managed to stand, punching one of the men holding him. Quickly apprehended again the men forced him back on his knees while Clopin strode over and rocked on his heels. The crowd screamed in excitement. The King held the knife to his throat while staring at the judge’s livid eyes. “Ah, ah ah!” Clopin scolded. “I think the least you could do is provide us with a fun exit after all you have done to us. You die alone minister. You see? No one wants you, and no one ever will!”

#In a Place of Miracles #thecurseisinourblood #i'm HERE #wheezes #i'm so rusty

[murroyilodel]

I’m glad they had Quasi stand on top and sing solo!

Yzma, a little way away please, you’re blocking my girl!!

Thank you.

This was nostalgic.

#the hunchback of notre dame #hunchback of notre dame #quasimodo #esmeralda #phoebus #frollo #disney 100 #hond

[murroyilodel]

Just saying, if you want Esme to punch someone for bullying you, she will punch them for you.

#outof1482

[murroyilodel]

GRIN AND BEAR IT, and Esmeralda grinned through her wincing, as Camilla worked her way through her voluminous hair. She had no mirror in front of her, so she could not see Camilla's skill changing her appearance. She also could not remember how she got persuaded into trying this, but she did vibrate a little with anticipation as she handed her ribbon to Camilla.

"You're really quick at this. How often do you do it?"

"See? You're tender-headed..." Tilting Esmeralda's head once more, her fingers held onto a section of hair by her temple. Tightly weaving cornrows was a challenge for those with a sensitive scalp.

But... Camilla was a bit on the rough side. The only solace found was in the swipe of oil from the back of her hand onto Esmeralda's scalp. "I'll lay the edges when I'm done with this side... Pass me your ribbon, I'll braid it in."

@murroyilodel

#repetiita #v. top of the world #best friends be doing best things :')

[murroyilodel]

Palingenesia

thecurseisinourblood​:

AS IF HE WERE THINKING about her feelings! Esmeralda teased him, exposing him again to his newest addiction of many. The smallest of smiles pulled his reluctant lips, not unlike the ones he gave Christine. All she had to do was banter with her happy beauty and he no longer felt attached to his body. Her purity radiated from her and it hit him like a shot of morphine. How did he ever look upon her like some insidious serpent, and why was he plagued with these bleak dreams of her preying on him?

Before the cold grip of his visions could overtake him, Charlotte was in his face being a sweet little cheerleader. Touched by her praise, he too became swept into the moment. His mind consistently robbed him of any joy and sentimentality, so when it did not this time, he was only overwhelmed. Glancing away, Claude caught the sight of Lucy’s intimate touch to Esmeralda’s hand.

Sanguine Esmeralda… how she never faltered through all of this.

She’s practically family now.

Lucy’s voice echoed in his head as he wrestled with the ever-present conflict that slept against his ribs. His personal assistant was never this far off the mark, because one dinner with Esmeralda could end him, but as he gazed at the sweet ballerina, he knew he was done for. After another round of hugs and congratulations there was a brief moment for them to gather their things. Claude could not stop himself from indulging this time. That pesky, subtle smile betrayed him by its return.

          “You generously assumed my altruism and                     forget I must also tolerate you.”

Alas, despite the warnings to stay away, the minister felt like a puppet to his secret desires as he greeted her with faire la bise as soon as he descended the stairs. Thousands of times had he left the Palace of Justice, and this was the first time he met with a girl. Mouth watering, as it did each time her rosy scent entered his nose, Claude thought back to her case and wondered again how he had caught the scent of rosemary.

Chagrinned by his behavior, his hand found her back to usher her away to the car with him. As a staunch Frenchman, Claude was proud of his culture and happy to adhere to any social standards, except for when it came to that greeting. It was too intimate. Lucy knew how much he hated it, but she still insisted on special occasions. All of this and he couldn’t resist the urge in broad daylight with Esmeralda. He wasn’t stupid enough to think she would overlook it after half a year of insults. This went beyond just being polite, and everyone knew Claude was never polite just for the sake of it.

Sipping some wine as soon as they were seated in the Italian restaurant she chose, the judge decided he needed something to stop him from being the marble of his reputation. It was like some invisible force pushed him here against his will and he was just now waking up to the withering decision of accepting her offer.

Pleasant and charismatic, Esmeralda was always effervescent and overstimulating. Initially responding with little, the minister sat with a rigid posture and listened with unwelcome admiration and wonderment. There was little indication of him being anything but indifferent at first, but she did not appear to be phased. He was feeding the starving beast inside of him and drank in every nose crinkle and smile she could manifest for him. It frightened him to think she might finally understand that he wasn’t being apathetic at all, and accepted him. There was that painful swell in his chest again. How could love make one feel physically ill? Taking more wine, he found it difficult to tear his eyes away from her.

When silence finally befell them, Claude had time to contemplate something he hadn’t before as he watched her content expression while she ate. How did this humble performer disregard her safety for the sake of a stranger? Recalling the last few weeks, his feelings of pride and adoration finally seeped through his stubborn wall of resilience. The minister could no longer remain silent and feign displeasure like he wasn’t impressed. He needed to hear it from her mouth.

          “The brave are often foolish.”

It wasn’t just Carlotta Esmeralda defended against, but a powerful man who could have ruined her career in an instant if he had a shred of sense. Claude folded his hands thoughtfully.

          “You risked everything that night,” he murmured, his grey eyes piercing hers.           “Were you not afraid of him?”

THE BEST-LAID PLANS needed execution, and if the main player did not play, she would have to find other ways to occupy herself for the night. But he showed up on time, impeccably neat as always. Wide smile on her face, she would have made a quip, if not for that greeting. Unexpected and unassuming, her face flushed, and she let herself be led away, his hand on her back to push her along. In her head reverberated a single thought.

                He’s never done that before.

Cheeks still tingling from the warmth and pressure from his pecks, she wasn’t sure how she slipped into the passenger seat. She must have told him the name of the restaurant, for he drove off at once, and it was a matter of minutes before they arrived. The maître d' brought them in to a discreet corner, to avoid attracting attention to the politician. Tongues would wag, would they not, if they saw the marble judge with an unknown ballerina?

She chose this place after careful research (and asking Charlotte about his preferences), as she would never come to a place like this on her own. By her calculation, this meal would cost her two weeks worth of meals and groceries, while just being another meal for him. Still, this did not compare to actual fees were she to actually hire him. So she could not complain, and decided to take this as an opportunity to see this as a new experience. Even the napkins felt luxurious.

As the shock of their initial meeting subsided, and she found him as polite as he ever was to her (more, her mind reminded her again of those innocuous pecks), she began rattling. About her parents’ relief and gratitude, about her brother’s declaration that he would punch the man twice over, about her returning to work with complete ease, about the upcoming season and how he might like the repertoire. They had gotten through the starter, when it occurred to her that she had spoken much more than he. His words came back. 

                Tolerate her indeed.

To him, the adage of silence being golden was more attractive. This meal was to thank him after all, she should let him eat in peace. Tucking into her pasta, she marvelled at how a simple dish could be elevated to such deliciousness. More accustomed to stronger flavours in her youth, she grew to appreciate lighter profiles after living on her own. Finishing the last mouthful, she looked forward to the next course, when he spoke up. Eyes widening slightly at the question, she looked at him, somewhat puzzled.

               “Is that what you have been thinking about?”

Why hadn’t he asked before? Maybe he hadn’t wanted to lecture her while she had been fretting over the case. Besides, regardless of when he asked, she would still be surprised, because she never quite thought of that. No matter how worried she had been, not once had she regretted what she had done to defend the woman. She smiled.

              “I was too angry to be afraid. Does that answer disappoint you?”

Brash versus stoic. It struck her even more at this moment the many differences they had. But where it mattered, she thought, she felt that they remained the same. He had always been known for the way he handled his cases. Thinking back again to how he had argued her own case, she smiled happily, until a jolt of memory hit her. Of her standing on a platform, full of rage, shouting at him at the top of her lungs.

              “Justice!”

Startled, she froze for a split second. Her heart was pounding, and she told herself to calm down. She had so many dreams recently, that they were bleeding into reality. She took a deep breath, and focussed on the present.

              “The truth is that I didn’t think I would be risking everything when I punched him. I was just thinking about helping his wife.”

She wasn’t a martyr. She would not willingly sacrifice herself if she could. Not wanting to make herself out to be heroic, because she believed she wasn’t, she wanted to talk about him, as curiosity and playfulness got the better of her.

               “What about you? What will you risk everything for?”

#thecurseisinourblood #palingenesia #oopie doopie doo

[murroyilodel]

What are the ROOTS that clutch, what BRANCHES grow        Out of this stony rubbish?

featuring canon and original characters from les misérables, phantom of the opera, and other sources. by levi, 30+, they/them.

#encore! encore! #f r i e n d

[murroyilodel]

thecurseisinourblood​:

Is that the bar? Apparently, that’s the bar.

The bar is to be nice to nice people. You’re being rude.

#thecurseisinourblood #dashboard commentary #oops

[murroyilodel]

@thecurseisinourblood​ said:  yeh i don't love him

... hush. He is a sweet person.

#thecurseisinourblood #dashboard commentary #oops #esme staph

[murroyilodel]

PEOPLE NEED DREAMS, before they can turn them into reality, was what Aunt Pastora told an adolescent Esmeralda, when Esmeralda’s parents brought her and Clopin back to Spain to visit family. Esmeralda’s parents worked as nurses and could hardly be said to be artistic. They joked that art skipped a generation and made up for it in their children. But that was not quite true, because Aunt Pastora was herself musical. It was just that she did not have the same chances as Esmeralda. So when Aunt Pastora learnt that Esmeralda wanted to study dance in college and become a ballerina, she encouraged it, even though many in Esmeralda’s school – teachers and classmates alike – expressed scepticism.

Years later, Esmeralda can send regular videos of what goes on behind the scenes at the theatre to Aunt Pastora because she did indeed succeed in joining the ballet corps. Intent on working as hard as possible and not worry her family about financial independence, Esmeralda teaches in her spare time too. She especially loves seeing people start their path into dance and finding that initial spark of joy.

Today at the gym, she sees many familiar faces and tries to recollect their progress so that she knows what they need. She tries to add a personal touch for each of the students, so that they will have something meaningful to take away. She even spies an older lady – lonely from recent retirement – doing stretches, and makes sure to approach and say hello to her. Then, going back to her desk to start playing some music, she looks to see a new face. His voice fills with excitement as he greets her, and prompts her to smile in return.

“I hope so. I just want everyone to enjoy themselves. Can I ask if you have any dance background?”

Esmeralda is a huge proponent of it never being too late to learn a new skill, even ballet which is traditionally thought to be something that one should begin at a very young age. So she welcomes anyone who shows an interest.

“We have all sorts of students here, feel free to ask any question. I’m still waiting for a couple more to come”

the day tadashi signed up for @murroyilodel's dance class

“Why ballet?"

“Why not?”

Life has so many things to offer, and Hiro can hear it in Tadashi’s voice --sweet and melodic like the wind chimes that summer sways with its breeze-- that his heart has so much space for it all. Tadashi’s answer was simple, yes, yet, it carried enough for Hiro to understand that his big brother’s spirit knows no bounds. Every day was a wonderful new adventure for someone as brave as Tadashi. Hiro can’t stop that, but he doesn’t stop being his annoying little insect.

“You’re weird.”

Tadashi entertains Hiro’s comment with an eyeroll. And as he fastens on his helmet, his aunt cries out:

“Wait wait!”

“Yeah Aunt Cass?”

He sticks his cheek out for a good luck kiss as he looks up to the sky expectantly. Instead, it’s worrying about what truly matters:

“How much does it cost?”

Oh Aunt Cass.

The wonderful thing about the modern world is how it is inclusive of all classes of people; it wants everyone to have a slice of it. Tadashi subscribed to a membership that provided him access to health and wellness sites like gyms, spas, yoga zones, and dance studios. It gave him a chance to try a bit of everything. (It feels good spending well-earned money on activities he knows he will enjoy!) And today, he enrolled himself in a ballet class.

He drives to the heart of the city, forever enchanted by how much opportunities and experiences it can share to the people that visit. From their small, antique businesses, to the intricate, modern, architecture, this eclectic array is what makes this the central part. Out of all the buildings here, Tadashi parks his bright red moped in front of a charming studio.

He doesn’t know how far in other students are or how obvious he will stick out like a sore thumb, but that doesn’t stop him from entering through the doors. Tadashi can’t explain it, but it welcomed him.

He peeks into the door, so not as to disturb the class, even if he is punctual. Like the rest of his peers here, everyone dressed casually and comfortably, appropriate for today’s workout. Whether he is surrounded by first-time guests who want to try everything like himself or loyal students was up for interpretation. What remains consistent is the instructor, whom he assumes is the one wrapping up behind her desk. The young man walks in her orbit.

“Hello! Instructor Esmeralda? I’m Tadashi Hamada! I’m excited to try out your services with this gym membership that I got! I enrolled for today's class."

Polite and lively, Tadashi can’t contain a smile for what’s to come.

"There’s so much opportunity here, isn’t there?”

#hamadacare #v. this bright millennium #i hope this is ok!! :D #thank you for the starter it's great!

[murroyilodel]

Rewatched hunchback and I just adore Quasimodo....How could you look at this lad and not love him. You can't

#quasi <3 #hond

[murroyilodel]

B A R B I E WAS AN EXPERIENCE.

#without giving spoilers #the plot was not what i expected #esp the second half #holy moly #the last part made me melancholic #even as i felt excitement for her #also that shout out to m argot robbie in the movie itself? #made me laugh

[murroyilodel]

Here she came once more; the long times where she'd come and go. Though, the one place Tifa always made a point to visit when she passed through. Ruby hues scanned the area, a soft smile always reaching her features when she saw the dancer. Lifting her arm, she waved, hoping to catch her attention amongst the crowd. "Hey, Esmerelda!"

FRIENDLY FACES BRIGHTEN any day, what more a true friend's? Lifting her arm in turn, Esmeralda waves back and gestures for Tifa to stay put, she will come over. Whistling for Djali to follow, Esmeralda crosses the square and gives Tifa the biggest hug.

"Each time you come, I always think of the adventures you have and the stories you can share. Then, I think of what little I can offer!"

#fearlessmonk #HOW ARE YOU #i have been SLOW #but i hope you are WELL #<3

[murroyilodel]

thecurseisinourblood​:

                                         New Years

HER QUIET ACKNOWLEDGMENT reminded him why he loathed to admit to having a younger brother. It told of an intimacy that he had never been comfortable with, a bond that people expected to be maintained. Family was everything to many, and it was easier to say there was no one than to watch their sad faces when he told them he lost someone he loved and raised. It was his biggest shame, and he had no one else to blame for it but himself. He wouldn’t be able to handle the overwhelming amount of pity shown by anyone if they knew. Claude lived his life earning his title of the marble judge, but the cracks he hid beneath his suit were beginning to spread to his neck. His throat squeezed. If he weren’t intoxicated, perhaps, he wouldn’t have felt like he was going to burst by her compassionate question. Not a single soul knew, and the unexpected opportunity to unload nearly forced his tongue. Striving to appear infallible and immune to the pain of the human experience, Jehan’s very existence implied that the cold Minister Frollo could still be hurt. By him… By her… His throat was so tight, it was as if he were choking himself in order to stop the words from spilling. He was thankful she was making coffee, otherwise she might see his struggle. He kept his eyes locked ahead on the old, small television.               “We are estranged.” He said it casually, but with a respect to the subject’s weight.  Despite his attempt to distance himself from the matter, it still hurt. Jaw locked, Claude was grateful when she returned with his cup, filled again with the much needed caffeine after his night of drinking. She must not even know, that each time she was near, his pulse began to race.         “You’re lucky I’m inebriated…” Because sober him wouldn’t have allowed this conversation. Sober him would not have even entered her apartment. He took a sip of his coffee and sighed. Daring to look up, his grey eyes pierced hers and watched her expression intently. If they didn’t confront this now, he was convinced he would never give her another chance.           “But that isn’t why I’m here.” He grit his teeth again as he struggled to pick from the hundreds of words he wished to say.           “When I lied about attending, I didn’t think it would be so important to you.” She had been so affronted by his confession, and despite her attempts to interact these handful of times, there wasn’t a way to predict her change. Even now, he was still processing how upset she had been that he did not show. He contemplated what she had asked…           Does it matter if I am?

The question was the equivalent of asking if he would continue to run away, even if she was jealous of Delice, if she had feelings. Surely… surely she didn’t… Tense, the air was heavy, as he felt that any answer was a terrifying one.           “Do you want it to matter to me if you are jealous of Delice?”

FRIENDSHIP, KINSHIP, TRUST. What could be awkward among loved ones? They were there to share weal and woe, laugh at embarrassing situations and comfort in moments of despair. To love was to be open. At least, that was her value in life.

It was not his. His was to hide, hide, hide. To be above the rest, including his chosen family. Not because he despised them, but because he thought that while he could help others, he could not trouble others.

She thought about the limited interactions that they had had over the past year, especially the dinners at Judge Jean-Pierre’s. While the others shared intimate details frequently and candidly, he would listen on the side, and speak only when necessary. When anyone sought assistance, he would do it on the quiet. Even though he did not smile like Remy, or mother like Lucy, or chatter like Charlotte, she realised that he cared for all of them just as much. But she could not understand his reticence.

Even now, with the revelation of his brother, he only said the essentials without more. Estranged. She wondered what had happened between them, and wondered whether that explained his behaviour to others. That guarded demeanour. Until he could no longer contain himself.

She flinched a little when he turned the attention back to her. Well, yes. His brother was not the subject tonight. She was. They were. No longer was she just confronting him. He was confronting her too. Her face flushed, making her freckles more prominent when he mentioned a person she absolutely loathed.

         “It seems silly to waste that much energy over such an awful person.”

She used to think she knew herself. The last couple of months had thrown her off balance. Instead of looking outwards, she had been spending her solitary time to force herself to mull over her own emotions. When it came to Delice, it took a while for her to see her issue. She had disliked Delice since their first interaction. Despite her efforts not to cross paths with Delice, they still met in social events. Then she saw how pleasant he was to Delice, and scoffed at his poor taste, ignoring her bruised ego.

         “It’s not just Delice. You are always so sweet to Christine too. I just didn’t know what the problem was with me. I always had people disliking me, that’s not unusual. What’s unusual is me being upset. Guess I should have questioned myself by then.”

#thecurseisinourblood #v. in another life you and i were enemies #new years

[murroyilodel]

When you write so long with your partner that you create AUs from your default AU.

#yes this is about you courtney #also everyone this is the only icon i'll ever use for my mun posts #cos this is me #a bubble-tea drinking panda