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blackswaneuroparedux · 4 years

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Anonymous asked: I really enjoy your erudite and literary posts about James Bond in your blog very much. Your most recent post about Connery as best cinematic Bond and Dalton as the best literary Bond was brilliant. Although the PC brigade have been inching towards making Bond a woman or even non-white, Ian Fleming’s legacy of a suave but cold hearted English gentleman spy hasn’t been completely trashed. As someone familiar with Fleming literary lore can you also tell me where was James Bond educated? Was it Oxford or Cambridge? I was having a discussion over Zoom with friends and the Oxonians like myself thought it was Oxford because in Casino Royale with Daniel Craig it’s made very plain it was Oxford. Your thoughts?

I appreciate your kind words about my posts on James Bond and his creator Ian Fleming. It’s very hard to ignore the cinematic James Bond because he is very much an icon of our modern culture that needs no translation to transcend across cultures. Alongside Sherlock Holmes, another British literary and cinematic export, the name alone speak for itself.

James Bond appeals to both genders very well.

For the men, Bond dresses well and lives in a care free way. He is both ferociously intelligent and resourceful to get out of any tight corner. He drives incredible cars (from the incredibly stylish Aston Martin DB5 to the incredibly awful AMC Hornet) and uses awesome technology (he is the archetypal boy with toys). He's not afraid to get down in the dirt to fight or engage in lethal gun-play and spectacular car chases. He sleeps with beautiful women, regardless how strong and independent they are (or even lesbian if we’re being honest about Pussy Galore).

For us ladies, while he's not averse to action, he's also a cultured gentleman with suave and sophisticated manners. He's also a generally pretty good looking guy. In many ways, he's a conventional male ideal. So while his conventional good looks and manners aren't for everyone, they hit right the sweet spot of what women like. For everyone, he's a spy! Not at a grey real world nondescript spy, but a cool spy fighting larger than life bad guys whose bland sartorial choices scream mad super villain. It's a very black and white world that James Bond lives in. These bad guys truly are villainous in the desire to re-order humanity, and we need a debonair British MI6 agent to save us from these mad men who want to harm us by laying waste to a bonkers Armageddon.

When all is said and done I think that what makes James Bond so iconic across gender and generations is what Raymond Chandler wrote back in 1959, “every man wants to be James Bond and every woman wants to be with him”.

That sounds about right. Men want to be him, women want to be with him.

I know my first introduction to James Bond was through my grandfather on my Anglo-Scots father’s side who was a dashing gentleman in his day with a long rumoured hush hush work for Her Majesty’s government firmly shoved under the carpet to avoid further discussion that he - being self-effacing and humble - would find embarrassing that would paint him in any heroic light. Years later he had bought his Bahamas beach pile in Harbour Island out in the Caribbean for the family to rest up from cold winters in Britain. Amongst his immense stack of books dotted around the place were (and still are) first editions of Flemings novels which a few were signed by the author as he on occasion met Ian Fleming when he would sail over to Jamaica (they were also OEs which helped). We were not allowed to touch these but instead picked up the dog earred paperbacks that still retained their 60s musty smell.

On my teen sojourns there I would spend time along with my siblings just reading anything we could find to take to the beach or lounge around in a hammock or a chaise longue. That’s how I came to read the Fleming books - really out of necessity to avoid boredom on a beach (which isn’t really my thing as I prefer the rugged outdoors). But I was pleasantly surprised how well written the books were and I actually enjoyed the stories; it was a refreshing change from the more heavy literary tomes I was trying hard to wade through. As for the Bond films, I watched them on film nights at boarding school; I remember having a school girl crush on Connery, Dalton, and Brosnan.

There are many reasons for the successful longevity of James Bond in popular culture and literature but perhaps one of the most pertinent to our discussion is that James Bond is actually a blank slate and therefore malleable as a character and so he can capture the current zeitgeist in time.

This ability of the film to adapt to different generations while remaining relevant is an important factor for its longevity. For example, the early James Bond films were unashamedly sexist with characters using women as objects and discarding them. In the most recent James Bond films, certainly starting with Timothy Dalton, there is a subtle change in attitude with a few chauvinist attitudes.

James Bond today is more serious, seduces fewer women, and is more respectful towards women in his life, including his boss. This shows how the film changes concerning the rise of feminism in the West. For example, Miss Moneypenny used to be a minor character in the very first James Bond films. Today, she is more formidable and doesn’t tolerate sexist remarks.

Perhaps it is precisely because of this blank slate malleability that has allowed different actors that have been cast to play James Bond their own way - rather than get a straight like for like Scottish sounding actor to replacing Connery for example the film producers went across to Moore via Lazenby for example - and letting each actor imbue the super spy with different moods. They each added their own colour from the same broad palate to create different tones. However, each of these characters maintained the essential character that defines James Bond. The actors have broadly stayed true to the inherent mix of character and class associated with James Bond.

For this reason I have some empathy towards your concern that Bond would be held hostage to the current zeitgeist of white washing or genderising everything so as to avoid being a victim of cancel culture. But it’s only empathy because I feel there is a danger of misunderstanding just who James Bond is and what he represents.

What do I mean by this?

I mentioned James Bond is a malleable character to the point he’s presented as a blank slate. This is ‘literally’ true - certainly as far as the books go. Ian Fleming doesn’t tell us much about Bond other than his appearance in his books. Indeed - as I mentioned in my past blog post on Connery as the best Bond - Fleming wasn’t convinced by Connery as Bond. He was reported to have said, ‘I’m looking for Commander Bond and not an overgrown stuntman’ and even dismissed Connery as “that fucking truck driver”. Fleming has good reason to rage. His Bond as written in the books was someone like him.

Like Fleming, Bond was an Eton educated Englishman; an officer and a (rogue) gentleman who was a lieutenant-commander in Naval Intelligence. As Connery began to wow and win over Fleming as Bond, Fleming had a change of heart. Fleming in his later Bond books re-wrote a half-Scottish ancestry for Bond as a tribute to Connery’s portrayal. Bond’s Scottish father was a Royal Navy captain and later an arms dealer, Andrew Bond from Glencoe; and his mother, Monique Delacroix, was Swiss from an industrial family. Bond himself was born in Zurich. Bond isn’t English at all but half-Scots and half-Swiss according to literary canon.

So I mention this because the question who can play James Bond is not as straight forward as it might seem.

But clearly we now have a canon of work, both cinematically and in the literature, where we have base line of who Bond is - or what audiences could possibly suspend their disbelief and go with what is presented to them as James Bond.

I do vaguely remember the hullabaloo and hand wringing around Daniel Craig playing Bond because he didn’t conform to the traditional tall, dark, and handsome trope of James Bond super suave spy. People couldn’t get past his blond hair. Some still can’t. But in my humble opinion he has been an outstanding James Bond and has reimagined Bond in a fresh and exciting way. Craig is in fact mining the Fleming books for his characterisation of Bond as a suave, gritty, humourless killer of the books. Dalton got there before him but that’s a moot point. To our current generation Craig has modernised Bond and dusted 007 down from being a relic of the Cold War to being a relevant 21st Century super spy.

Can anyone play James Bond OO7? Yes and no. It’s arguing that two different things are one and the same. They are not. James Bond is separate from OO7.

Can a woman play Jane Bond or a black woman or non-white man play Black Bond? Respectfully, no. That’s not who James Bond is.

James Bond is a flesh and blood character with a specific genealogical history - whether in the books or on the screen. This Bond has literary back story that is canon and makes him who he is. Bond does transcend time - he can’t be 38 years old for over 75 years in the real world - but at the same time his character only makes sense when rooted in a specific historic context we know existed (and still exists) and not some wishy washy make believe fantasy of British society. He’s an Old Etonian and therefore an upper middle class male product of the British establishment that is identifiable in a very British cultural context.

Jane Bond would have to have gone to Cheltenham Ladies College, Benneden, or Roedean I suppose if we are talking about equivalence - but such girls’ boarding schools were not the breeding ground for future spies (more likely they married them or became trusted secretaries in the intelligence services as well as flower arranging in their Anglican parish church).

I believe they are letting in black pupils on bursaries at Eton these days to be more inclusive but again it’s an an exception not the rule and Eton doesn’t even get public credit for the inclusive work they try to do because it’s not well known.

Moreover we know Bond loses his Scottish-Swiss parents in a skiing accident. I don’t mean to sound racist but I ski a lot in Switzerland and I can say you don’t really find droves of non-white skiers on the slopes of Verbier or Zermatt. Of course there are a few but it’s the exception and not the norm. Again, I’m not trying to be racist but just point out some obvious things when it pertains to the credibility of character that underlines who Bond is. You pull one thread out of the literary biography and the danger is the rest of the tapestry will unravel.

Of course one could try and go for a Black Bond on screen and then hope there is a huge suspension of belief on the part of the audience. But I suspect it’s a bridge too far. It just doesn’t fit. Audiences around the world have an image of who Bond is - British at the very least but also male (damaged and flawed in many ways) and coming from a specific British social class background that serves as an entree to a closed world of English gentleman clubs, Savile Row, English sports cars, and the hushed corridors of Whitehall.

Any woke film maker with an ounce of creative vision and talent and one who is invested in this would be better off creating a new character entirely - with their own specific biography that is both believable and relatable. Can you imagine an American James Bond? What a ghastly thought. Or worse a Canadian one? Canadians are far too nice and far too apologetic to produce a cruel cold eyed killer. But look what clever film makers like Spielberg and Lucas did with Indiana Jones and even later Doug Liman did with Jason Bourne - both fantastic creations that are part of the cultural zeitgeist now.

Or look at Charlize Theron who plays a MI6/CIA/KGB triple agent in Atomic Blonde or Rebecca Ferguson as Ilsa Faust in any of the Mission Impossible movies. I would eagerly watch any movies with these two badass women on the screen. All this talk about making Bond a woman or even coloured is just lazy thinking at best and at worst kow towing to the populist tides of PC brigade.

But I firmly believe one can have a female and a person of colour portraying 007. This is because James Bond and OO7 are two different things entirely. Many mistakenly believe 007 is Bond’s own code name and specific alias to him alone.

007 is a license to kill for a very specialised kind of intelligence officer. Bond has that privilege for as long as he serves at the service of Her Majesty’s pleasure. His 007 license can be revoked - and it has been in the past Bond films - and he’s back to being a just another desk jockey civil servant in Whitehall. So my point is OO7 is not sacred to Bond’s identity. Bond could continue to be Bond even if M took away his 007 license to kill.

The origins of the Double O title may date to Fleming's wartime service in Naval Intelligence. According to World War Two historian Damien Lewis in his book Churchill's Secret Warriors, agents of the Special Operations Executive (SOE) were given a “0” prefix when they became "zero-rated" upon completion of training in how to kill. As part of his role as assistant to the head of naval intelligence, Rear Admiral John Godfrey (himself the inspiration for M), Fleming acted as liaison to the SOE.

In the novel Moonraker it’s established that the section routinely has three agents concurrently; the film series, beginning with Thunderball, establishes the number of OO agents at a minimum of 9. Fleming himself only mentions five OO agents in all. According to Moonraker, James Bond is the most senior of three OO agents; the two others were OO8 and OO11. The three men share an office and a secretary named Loelia Ponsonby. Later novels feature two more OO agents; OO9 is mentioned in Thunderball and OO6 is mentioned in On Her Majesty's Secret Service.

Other authors have elaborated and expanded upon the OO agents. While they presumably have been sent on dangerous missions as Bond has, little has been revealed about most of them. Several have been named, both by Fleming and other authors, along with passing references to their service records, which suggest that agents are largely recruited (as Bond was) from the British military's special forces.

Interestingly, In the novel You Only Live Twice, Bond was transferred into another branch and given the number 7777, suggesting there was no active agent 007 in that time; he is later reinstated as 007 in the novel The Man with the Golden Gun. As an aside, in Fleming's Moonraker, OO agents face mandatory retirement at 45 years old. However Sebastian Faulks's Devil May Care (an authorised Bond adventure from the Fleming estate and therefore arguably could be considered canon) features M giving Bond a choice of when to retire - which explains why Roger Moore (God bless) went past his sell by date.

In the films the OO section is a discrete area of MI6, whose agents report directly to M, and tend to be sent on special assignments and troubleshooting missions, often involving rogue agents (from Britain or other countries) or situations where an "ordinary" intelligence operation uncovers or reveals terrorist or criminal activity too sensitive to be dealt with using ordinary procedural or legal measures, and where the aforementioned discretionary "licence to kill" is deemed necessary or useful in rectifying the situation.

The World is Not Enough introduces a special insignia for the 00 Section. Bond's fellow OO agents appear receiving briefings in Thunderball and The World Is Not Enough. The latter film shows a woman in one of the 00 chairs. In Thunderball, there are nine chairs for the OO agents; Moneypenny says every 00 agent in Europe has been recalled, not every OO agent in the world. Behind the scenes photos of the film reveal that one of the agents in the chairs is female as well. As with the books, other writers have elaborated and expanded upon the OO agents in the films and in other media.

In GoldenEye, 006 is an alias for Alec Trevelyan; as of 2019, Trevelyan is the only OO agent other than Bond to play a major role in an EON Productions film, with all other appearances either being brief or dialogue references only.

In Casino Royale with Daniel Craig’s first outing as Bond, we see in the introduction the tense exchange between Bond and Dryden, a section chief whom Bond has been sent to kill for selling secrets.

James Bond: M really doesn't mind you earning a little money on the side, Dryden. She'd just prefer it if it wasn't selling secrets. Dryden: If the theatrics are supposed to scare me, you have the wrong man Bond. If M was so sure I was bent...she'd have sent a Double-O. Benefits of being Section Chief...I would know of anyone being promoted to Double-O status, wouldn't I? Your file shows no kills...and it takes - James Bond: - two. (flashback of Bond fighting Dryden's contact in a bathroom.)

The OO is just a coveted position and nothing to do with who occupies it. Ito use a topical comparative example it’s like a football team in which a new star player would be given an ex-player’s shirt number e.g. Messi wears Number 10 for Argentina which is heavily identified with the late great Maradona. So conceivably there would be no problem having a woman or anyone else play 007. I think it would be an interesting creative choice to have a woman or someone else play OO7 and Bond is out of the service and yet he has to work together with this new OO7 - the creative tension would be a refreshing twist on the canon.

Your question about James Bond’s Oxford or Cambridge education is more easier to answer.

It really depends again which Bond one is talking about. The literary James Bond or the cinematic Bond.

In the Fleming books, James Bond’s didn’t go to Oxford or Cambridge or any of the other great universities of Britain. In the books Bond’s education is not gone into much detail. We know he was raised overseas until he was orphaned at the age of 11 when his parents died in a mountaineering accident near Chamonix in the Alps. He is home schooled for a time by an aunt, Charmain Bond, in the English village of Pett Bottom before being packed off to boarding school at Eton around 12 years old. Bond doesn’t stay long as he gets expelled for playing around with a maid. He is then sent to his father’s boarding school in Scotland, Fettes College.

Bond is then briefly attends the University of Geneva - as Ian Fleming did - before being taught to ski in Kitzbühel. In 1941 Bond joins a branch of what was to become the Ministry of Defence and becomes a lieutenant in the Royal Naval Volunteer Reserve, ending the war as a commander. Bond applies to M for a position within the "Secret Service", part of the HM Civil Service, and rises to the rank of principal officer. And that’s it.

In the cinematic Bond universe things get more complicated and even contentious as you alluded to in your question. It’s never made quite clear which of the two - Oxford or Cambridge - Bond attended because it depends on how much weight you attach to the lines being spoken in each of the films where it is raised.

In Tomorrow Never Dies, Bond is up at Oxford (New College to be exact since his Aston Martin DB5 was parked in the courtyard at the entrance). He is seen bedding a sexy Danish professor, Inga Bergstrom, to brush up on his Danish (to which Moneypenny on the phone retorts ‘You always were a cunning linguist’). But it’s definitely doesn’t mean Bond studied there as an undergraduate.

Casino Royale is the film many think yes, James Bond went to Oxford because it is mentioned by Vesper Lynd (Eva Green) as she sizes up Daniel Craig’s Bond on the train. Here is the full quote as said by Vesper Lynd, “All right... by the cut of your suit, you went to Oxford or wherever. Naturally you think human beings dress like that. But you wear it with such disdain, my guess is you didn't come from money, and your school friends never let you forget it. Which means you were at that school by the grace of someone else's charity - hence that chip on your shoulder. And since your first thought about me ran to "orphan," that's what I'd say you are.”

The thing to note is that it’s Vesper Lynd taunting Bond and even then she takes a wide stab by saying ‘Oxford or wherever’ because she doesn’t really know and Bond doesn’t oblige her with an answer.

That whole scene struck me as strange because she’s guessing by the cut of the suit it must be Oxford (or Cambridge). Bond is wearing an Italian suit (Brioni to be specific) and not and English Savile Row one that presumably someone of Bond’s taste and background would be sporting.

A more plausible answer if we are going by the cinematic Bond universe is Cambridge. Indeed it is stated explicitly by Bond himself. Can you guess?

You Only Live Twice which is has the distinction of being the only Bond film (as far as I can tell) from being set in just one country - Japan.

You remember the scene. Lieutenant commander James Bond has just had a briefing with M on board a submarine and is naturally flirting with Moneypenny on his way out. Moneypenny playfully tosses him a Japanese phrase book, saying he might need it.

“You forget,” Bond responds with an expression just short of a smirk as he tosses it back to her, “I took a first in oriental languages at Cambridge.”

So it seems James Bond is a Cambridge man.

A first means - as any British university student would know - first class honours. It’s the highest classification grade one can get in their undergraduate degree ie a ‘first’. Although at Cambridge, like Oxford, you can also get a double first in the part I and part II of the Tripos. Both universities also award first-class honours with distinction, informally known as a ‘Starred First’ (Cambridge) or a ‘Congratulatory First’ (Oxford).

Another oddity is he says ‘oriental languages’ when one got a degree in ‘oriental studies’ at the Oriental Faculty at Cambridge. That is until 2007 when Cambridge bowed to public and student pressure and chose to drop its Oriental Faculty label and instead adopted the name the Faculty of Asian and Middle Eastern Studies. Oxford still hangs on to its name the Faculty of Oriental Studies.

My only reservation about crowing over an Oxonian is how truthful was Bond being with Moneypenny in this scene?

Is this line meant to be taken seriously or ironically? Most people seem to take it seriously, despite much of Connery's dialogue being obviously ironic and playful. Certainly, Bond is shown to have never been to Japan before and is incapable of saying anything in Japanese other than the odd "sayonara" and "arigato." But then again Bond does know the correct temperature sake is meant to be served at. So there’s that.

Or it could be Bond was speaking a half-truth. I know speaking from experience as someone who very nearly read asian languages instead of my eventual choice of Classics that ‘Oriental languages’ at the ex-Oriental faculty in Cambridge can mean many other languages e.g. Sanskrit, Hindi, Farsi, Hebrew, Arabic as well as Korean, Japanese and Chinese. It opens up so many other delicious possibilities for Bond. If he read Arabic then perhaps he’s being deeply ironic with Moneypenny (after all she would have drooled over read his MI6 personnel file).

If you think I’m losing my mind then ponder on the fact it was Roald Dahl who penned the screenplay of You Only Live Twice. Dahl was not above snark. Indeed pretty sure he would have got a starred first in snark at any university.

Of course the most obvious explanation is that it’s plot armour as a way for Bond to just get on with the story by suspending the audience belief. Why wouldn’t Bond know Japanese? He seems to know everything else imaginable.

However if it ever was it’s now become canon as EON - the production company behind the Bond films - have stated officially for the fandom that Bond’s official bio has it that he went to Eton and Cambridge, where he got a first in oriental languages. So that seems settled then.

In hindsight it makes perfect sense that Bond went to Cambridge since historically Cambridge has provided the bulk of the spies not just for Her Majesty’s service but also for the other side, the Russians - the so-called Cambridge Spies of Philby, Maclean, Burgess, Blunt, and Cairncross, and a host of other traitors. We seem to be an equal opportunities employment service.

I’m sorry to disappoint you and other Oxonians that despite what you might think James Bond didn’t attend Oxford. Believe me as a Cantabrigian it gives me no pleasure to say this…..too much.

Thanks for your question.

#ask #question #james bond #bond #film #cinema #ian fleming #oxford #cambridge #oxbridge #university #education #cancel culture #culture #society #britain #british #personal

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mortaljin · 6 years

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Word Count: 6.2k Warnings: None Genre: Beginning fluff, angst and ending fluff. Royalty!au Pairing: Yoongi x female reader ft. a platonic Jimin

Summary: You were born to be queen; you enjoyed what you did and the people you could help. Yoongi, however, was not born to be king and begins to despise you when a decision you make forces him into your shadow. Will you be able to fix the crumbling relationship you had barely begun to form?

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The dark fabric fell against your form effortlessly, despite the heavy material. Flecks of silver dotted the dress from top to bottom and collected into a gorgeous lace crawling up your chest and the base of your neck. Although you had grown accustomed to the frivolous dresses many years ago, it never failed to bring a smile to your face every time you were told there was a ball to attend. Being royalty was a burden that some people with the title could not and would never be able to bear; you, however, relished in it. Yes, you had grown up more sheltered than others, and yes, your activities were, unfortunately, heavily monitored from the moment you arrived in this world, but you chose to see the sun behind the clouds.

Apart from the fact that you lived a life far better than most of those around you, you also had immense power and standing in the world. This power gave you the opportunity to do what you saw right and just; if there were people in the village who were struggling, you had the power to make changes necessary to ensure them an easier way of living; if there were unreasonable wars being held in far-off lands, you had the power to assist the nobility and their quest to bring peace to the world; if there was anyone in your kingdom who was unhappy, you could brighten their lives with the snap of your fingers.

So, you did.

When you were eleven years old, it was brought to your attention that one day you would, in fact, be the next ruler of this kingdom. When you were thirteen years old, you made a vow to yourself that you would be the queen that your people needed and deserved. When you were sixteen, you proved to your father that you had a knack for politics when you advised him on a situation happening in the village, and your advice proved him successful in resolving it. Since then, you have attended most, if not all, royal meetings and have been granted the option to voice your opinions; sometimes they were dismissed, sometimes they were followed, but they were always heard because whether your advice was right or wrong, your heart and soul was in the good of the people.

Now twenty-years-old, and nearing your twenty-first birthday, your parents had, of course, began to talk to you about inheritance. You weren’t keen on the idea of getting married anytime soon, but you weren’t completely against it either. A future husband would not be chosen and forced upon you; your parents were, thankfully, smart enough to realize that you could not properly lead your kingdom if the person ruling beside you was not one you wanted to be. Thus, the excuse for another extravagant ball, your parents were hoping you could meet ‘the one’ sometime soon.

“Is there anyone, in particular, you hope to see again tonight, Princess Y/N?” The servant girl wondered as she helped to perfect the bow on the back of your corset.

“How many times do I have to tell you, Monique? You know I don’t mind if you drop the title when we’re behind closed doors, you’ve become like a sister after how many years you’ve been attending to me.” The friendly scolding you had given the maid caused her to get flustered and choke out a laugh, causing you to laugh even louder at the look on her face. “Anyways, I don’t think so. A lot of the princes I’ve met so far have all been very kind, but none of them have really piqued my interest.” You shrugged your shoulders and sighed. You’ve met at least twenty princes, and at least fifty nobles and lords, and while they were as kind as you could hope for, they were cookie-cutters of each other.

“Well, perhaps tonight will be the night you find your prince charming.” Her optimistic words never failed to lift your spirits and help you hold your head a little higher.

You stood at the back of the ballroom, in your usual place to the right of your father, and watched as banner after banner of household names began to file in. The usual princes were there, as you were reluctantly expecting, and occasionally, a nobleman you hadn’t seen for some time entered the ballroom. So much for someone new, you briefly thought to yourself as the grand doors to the room were closed. Your father thanked the guests for attending and wished them a wondrous and exciting night. The music began to fill the room and it was now time for you to fulfill your duties as princess and make your rounds across the floor. First to ask for a dance was Park Jimin from the neighboring kingdom.

“How are you, Jimin?” Your voice almost being lost in your twirl, but he had heard you nonetheless.

“I’m doing well, and how are you, Princess Y/N?” You stifled a laugh and aimed to playfully hit his shoulder, but missed as he caught you in another spin.

“Jimin, we’ve known each other since birth, and you still dare to call me a princess? Don’t you remember when we were seven and you saw me eat dirt that day in the garden? Do princesses do that?” This warranted a deep bellow from Jimin as the two of you continued to glide across the floor.

“How could I ever forget that? Your mom was so angry that you were behaving so unladylike! Found a prince yet?”

“As if. Have you planned out your proposal to Minah yet?” Jimin’s love life was by far a better conversation topic than yours.

“Yes and no. I know what I want to say to her, but I don’t know when the right time is. I carry the ring around with me anytime I know she’ll be at the same place as me, just in case I work up the courage to do it.” He gushed, and you could tell how absolutely enamored he was with her. He began courting her over a year ago, and when questioned why he did so for so long, he simply said he wanted to make sure she was as in love with him as he was with her.

“Is she here tonight?” Jimin nodded his head and he titled his head slightly in confusion. “Propose to her tonight!” You squealed and Jimin began to shake his head fervently. “Oh, why not Jiminie? You love her and she loves you, there’s no better time to do it than at such an extravagant ball when she’s least expecting it!” But Jimin just chuckled and continued shaking his head. The song ended and another one began to play, meaning your conversation with your best friend has come to its end.

“We’ll see, we’ll see. Take care, Y/N, and don’t dance too much tonight!” You curtsied and bowed to one another and walked away waving and smiling at each other. Your mood had been lifted severely and you had a newfound energy to continue mingling with your guests.

You danced with a few more princes, each one more boring than the last before you decided to make your way outside for some fresh air. This was a task in and of itself as you were constantly stopped by the older lords and nobles; they all asked you to send their good wishes to your father as well as tried to make small talk about relations between your kingdoms. As you crossed the massive floor, almost making it out the balcony door, you caught a glimpse of an unfamiliar mint-colored banner with an unknown family crest. I will greet them later, right now I need to breathe. So, you continued your trek outside. It was not long, however, until you were being called back inside to continue your interactions.

“Y/N, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.” Your father had called to you the second you had stepped back inside the ballroom, almost dragging you behind him.

“Father, who can this person be to make you so excited for me to meet him?” Your words were lost to the sounds of the people surrounding you and, finally, you were in front of two people you had never seen before.

“Y/N, this is his royal majesty King Min.” You were almost taken aback by your father’s formality; your father held such good standing with the other kings that they hardly used their royal titles when addressing each other. Suddenly, the new king in front of you feigned a punch to your father’s upper bicep, “Don’t you know assaulting a king is a declaration of war?” The two stared intently at each other for a brief pause before cackling and howling, embracing each other in a hug shortly after. Leaving both you and the young man in front of you slightly confused.

“It has been far too long since I’ve seen you. I need to stop waiting so many years for my visits!”

“That you do, that you do. Y/N, you don’t remember Min here since he hasn’t cared to drop by since your fifth birthday,” your father took another opportunity to poke fun at his old friend, “but has dropped by to discuss some much overdo politics.” King Min bowed deeply to you and grasped your hands in his.

“I knew you were going to grow up looking like your mother,” he glances at your father mischievously before continuing, “it would have been a shame if you looked like your old man. Ow! Okay, okay, stop pinching me!” You watched their playful interaction with a smile forming on your face, it was refreshing to see that your father hasn’t lost his humility after being king for so long. Their friendship reminded you of yours and Jimin’s, and you knew that your father and King Min were still the best of friends. “Anyways, this is my son, Yoongi, he’s never visited your kingdom before so I thought it’d be a nice change of scenery for him to come with me.” The two of you exchanged an awkward bow and curtsey as your father led King Min away, arms making wide gestures as he perhaps retold an age-old story.

“May I have this dance?” A hand reaching for you interrupted your thoughts as one of the dull princes you had been trying to avoid all night finally found you. Quickly you looked at Yoongi, and back to the prince waiting for your answer.

“I’m sorry, I’m afraid I’ve already found my dancing partner for this song. You will have to find me again later.” You curtsied unapologetically and grabbed Yoongi’s hand, leading him to the center of the ballroom despite his protests.

The two of you moved in perfect rhythm as the sounds of violins, harps, and pianos rang throughout the room. There was not a single step missed, or a foot stepped on, only two people in perfect harmony. Being so close to Yoongi gave you a chance to really look at him; his features were soft, yet he gave off a hint of stoicism and strength. His hands were large and gentle as they held fast to your waist, and the shoulders you had placed your free hand upon were nothing but broad and charming. It was almost as if he had caught you admiring because the wide, gummy smile he was giving you had you lowering your eyes and blushing embarrassingly hard. The music seemed to end as quickly as it had started, and you felt a slight rise of disappointment at the idea of departing from the handsome prince you had just been acquainted with.

“Is there anywhere private to go, Princess Y/N?” The word ‘princess’ sounded like velvet as it rolled off his tongue. “I’m afraid that I’m not too fond of such a large crowd.” He smiled feebly and you could see him start to get antsy.

“Of course! Follow me, I know where we can go!”

The two of you strolled through the quiet garden, initially walking in comfortable silence. Night had fallen many hours ago and the moon shined brightly in the sky; causing both of you to stop in front of the little pond, admiring the white orb reflected on its surface. Yoongi let out a shaky sigh, barely loud enough for you to hear it, and had the wind been blowing you probably wouldn’t have. You heard him nonetheless, and you turned to face him with a hint of concern, pausing for a brief moment as you decided what to say.

“Is there something troubling you, Prince Yoongi?” The inquiry was meant to be sincere, but it made the man in front of you scoff and furrow his brows.

“I’m no prince, I’m afraid.” His words were said bitterly and you raised a brow in confusion. Seeing your reaction, he chuckled and continued, “well yes, by right and title I am a prince. But,” he stopped for a moment and inhaled deeply, “I don’t think I’m worthy of the title.”

“Prince Yoongi, I’m sure that’s not true!” Your protest came out quicker than you had originally intended. “You’ve no doubt received the lessons you need to be a great king.”

“That’s another thing, I won’t be king. Not likely anyways. I have an older brother who has the proper claim to the throne. So, I’m kind of just thrust to the side in everything. My advice isn’t even acknowledged during council meetings even when I’m right!” As Yoongi let out a grunt of frustration, you placed your hand on his arm in hopes to comfort him.

“I’m sorry you feel that way, Prince Yoongi, you deserve to have your voice heard whether you are right or wrong, it’s only fair.” Now it was you who was furrowing their brow, wishing there was more for you to say. Yoongi just smiled meekly and placed his hand on yours, squeezing it gently to let you know he appreciated the gesture.

“It’s alright, there’s no need for you to apologize, Princess Y/N. I should be the one saying sorry, in fact, you brought me out here to get me away from the crowd, yet here I am complaining to you about trivial matters that you probably don’t care for.”

“That’s not true, and please skip the formalities, it’s just the two of us out here. I do care, I care about what troubles the people I come across. I just wish there was more I could say to help you.” Your voice trailed off and you muttered the last part under your breath. To your surprise, Yoongi brought your knuckles to his lips.

“So, you really are as considerate and loving as the rumors say, Y/N.” You brushed off the compliment as your focus was still placed on the tingling sensation left on your hand.

“I try, you can’t rule a kingdom properly if your subjects resent you.” Your heart fluttered as you watched Yoongi give you another gummy smile.

“True that is. Now enough talk about kingdoms and duties, let’s make this conversation lighter, what do you say?” He held his right elbow out to you and the overly exaggerated look of poise caused you to laugh loudly. You fondly hooked your arm through his and continued your stroll through the garden.

The red roses had become engraved in your mind by the time you had walked past them for the umpteenth time. Conversation with Yoongi proved to be effortless and exciting. The topics discussed were far from the usual ones you held with the princes you had met previously. He told you of his hobbies and passions, and of the faraway lands he had seen. Each word that rolled off his tongue held great significance, even the ones that he mispronounced and stumbled over. Your laughter seemed to fill the empty garden on a repetitive cycle, and by the time your walk had come to an end you were clutching your stomach in joyous agony.

You weren’t exactly sure how long the two of you had been in the garden, hours perhaps. The original intention of escaping the ball was not to miss the entire thing but to get away for a moment. It was obvious, however, there was striking compatibility between you and Yoongi, and neither one of you wanted to go back inside to socialize. It was upon re-entering that you two realized that you had, indeed, missed the entire ball.

“Ah, there you two are!” Your father exclaimed as you and Yoongi made your way to where the two kings had settled near the thrones. “We were almost beginning to worry as to where you two had snuck off to!”

“Don’t worry father, I was just showing Yoongi the flowers in the garden.” You chuckled before kissing your father on the cheek. King Min and your father exchanged a look of amusement at your words.

“Fair enough. Anyways, there was something we wanted to discuss with you two.” A more serious tone took over your fathers normally playful one, and you and Yoongi glanced at each other nervously.

“Yoongi, I think it may do you well to see how other kingdoms are ruled. That’s why I want you to stay here with Y/N and hopefully take notes on how to grow fit to be a ruler.” Yoongi looked visibly hurt at his father’s condescending statement.

“Father, I don’t think that’s really necess-” his protest was cut off by a wave of the Kings hand, and for a moment you were disappointed by his lack of excitement at the opportunity to spend more time with you. “At any rate, I can’t allow myself to be a burden to Y/, I mean Princess Y/N and her father.”

“Nonsense my boy, it’d be a pleasure to have you as our guest here!” Your father dismissed Yoongi’s concern immediately, reassuring him that it was, in fact, not a problem. “I suppose this comes down to what my daughter wants. What do you think, Y/N?” You glanced between Yoongi and the kings as you weighed the two options in your head. If you said no, you would save Yoongi the discomfort of being forced into following your shadow, but you would not be able to grow closer to him. If you chose, however, to accept the Kings’ proposal, you would selfishly be putting your own feelings in front of Yoongi’s comfort and happiness. You smiled apologetically at Yoongi before giving your answer.

“Of course, father, King Min, it would be an honor to have Prince Yoongi join our castle for a while.” Your answer puts hope in your heart for your friendship and possible relationship with Yoongi, but that was quickly diminished when you saw the furious look on his face.

“That’s settled then, Yoongi, I will have someone show you to your living quarters that you will be using while you’re here.” Your father clapped his hands in one excited movement before calling over one of the servants. You excused yourself for the rest of the evening because you couldn’t bear having Yoongi’s once gentle eyes glare at you any longer.

The following weeks were torturous as you tried your hardest to hold the same energetic conversation with Yoongi that you had that night of the ball; to no avail, Yoongi only answered you with a cold shoulder and bitter shortness. Having him accompany you to council meetings proved to be the more tedious task as his lack of voluntary participation made it difficult to come to agreements on things.

“Perhaps we should place more soldiers throughout the village. Petty crime has been rising in tremendous numbers lately; food by the barrel has been coming up missing from the warehouses.” One member of the council said sternly, confident that his idea to solve the problem was through the use of authority and fear. “Wouldn’t you agree, Princess Y/N?”

“No, I would not.” Your mouth formed a thin line as you refused to encourage this idea. “Perhaps this is a matter that we could use Prince Yoongi’s opinion on.” You purposefully deflected the attention to the Prince sitting across from you and if looks could kill.

“Well, I-” he cleared his throat before restarting, “it would be unwise if we solved the problem by just giving food to the people who are stealing from the warehouses, as that creates unmotivated subjects. If we place more soldiers in the village, it not only leaves us with hungry villagers, but it will also bring out resentment and fear in them as well.”

“What do you propose we do then?” The council member whose plan was being refuted drowned his words in a mocking tone.

“There must be areas that are lacking in workers, wasn’t it just recently that some of your establishments were destroyed by the wildfire? Hungry men are hard working men, and giving them jobs and tasks to complete will give them a sense of accomplishment, as well as a reason to be rewarded with the payment of food.” The room held its breath as it stared at your father who had a look of deep contemplation upon his face.

“I think that sounds like a reasonable solution. William, start putting the word out around the village that there will be an opportunity for work and food. We cannot afford to have both hungry and resentful subjects.” Your father took Yoongi’s advice quite seriously and began making the preparations to make it a reality.

You could barely hold back your proud smile for the remainder of the meeting. After it was adjourned, you quickly ran after him to praise his logical thinking.

“Yoongi, that was a lovely idea! I hadn’t even thought about using the destroyed buildings as a tool in this issue!” You reached out for his arm, but he shifted to the left to avoid it.

“Perhaps, Princess Y/N,” the word princess was emphasized with anger and it made you wince, “if you had been more worried about your own answer instead of forcing me to give my own, maybe you would have thought of it!” He had raised his voice to you and it wasn’t the matter of disrespecting a royal that troubled you, it was how he was holding that much anger towards what you’ve done to him. Yoongi had swiftly turned on his heel to leave and it didn’t come to your attention that tears had begun rolling down your face until your loud sniffle had caused him to turn around and come right back to you. “Y/N, look I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting and I’m sorry for raising my voice to you, it’s just-” but you cut him off.

“No, Prince Yoongi,” You curtsied deeply as you used the formal title towards him, “I’m the one who should apologize. I’m sorry I was selfish enough to think that my presence could make up for the fact that this is not somewhere you want to be. I will talk to my father as soon as I can so that you may make your preparations to return home.” With that you turned around and walked away with your head held high, feigning an indifferent composure; you didn’t dare to look behind you, not knowing you had a left a trembling prince in the empty corridor.

“Father I don’t think you understand!” You managed to imply the importance of your words without daring to raise your voice to the king.

“That’s enough Y/N. If Prince Yoongi really is as miserable here as you say he is, he has every right and power to tell me that he wishes to return home. You are both adults and can act as such. Do I make myself clear?” Your father had a point, Yoongi can return home whenever he pleases, this is not your battle to fight. The king in front of you raised an eyebrow pointedly as he awaited the answer to his question.

“Of course, father, I will let the prince know.”

Your curtsy was not as deep as it should have been, but it was a curtsy nonetheless, and you were too conflicted to care. You hadn’t seen Yoongi in over a week since you last spoke to him, meaning that you had missed two council meetings in a row. This was not like you in the slightest, and rumor in the castle said that you were either sick or in love, and to be perfectly honest, both rumors sounded pretty logical to you. Apparently, though, Yoongi seemed to be doing a fine job in your place, giving countless words of wisdom. The thought almost made you smile as you started to think about Yoongi growing more accustomed to the role he was born into. Rounding the corner to the west wing, you ran into your handmaid whose face looked as if she had something good to say.

“Monique, please tell me that look on your face means you have good news!” So desperate for a change of mood, the statement almost sounded like a beg.

“Oh, but I do! Prince Jimin is here. He wants to see you, he said he’d be in the gardens waiting.” Monique smiled widely after seeing how excited you were to see your dear friend. Unbeknown to both of you was that Prince Yoongi could be found hiding behind a statue down the hallway, his fists forming into balls at the thought of you being excited to see another man.

You could see Jimin standing in front of the little pond, looking as princely and royal as ever. Quietly, you snuck up behind him and gave his sides a poke, hoping to scare him. He did not move or say anything, and for a moment it was if you were invisible. Suddenly, he turns around in one swift movement and yells at you.

“Jiminie! How dare you use my plots against me!” You scolded him while you clutched your chest, faking a horrendous heart attack.

“You love me.” Jimin’s warm arms engulfed you in a hug, and it seemed like your best friend had the power to melt all your worries away.

“Yeah, sure,” you muttered against his chest, “how are you?”

“The real question is, how are you? I’ve heard you’ve missed two council meetings in a row. What’s going on?” You rolled your eyes at his bluntness and silently cursed Monique because it was no doubt her who had pushed him to be so nosy.

“It’s nothing really, I’ve just had to take time to myself and be reminded of who I am and what I believe.” This earned, not one, but a two eyebrow raise from Jimin.

“And that would be?”

“That other people come before me. I must put the happiness and well-being of those around me before I indulge in my selfish desires.” Jimin stopped dead in his tracks from the short walk you had taken, turning to look at you with annoyance lining his face.

“That is the worst thing I’ve ever heard of, Y/N. You and I both know well how much you deserve whatever it is you want. It’s okay to be selfish sometimes, you’re a princess for crying out loud!” But you just shook your head.

“Not this time, Jiminie, not this time.”

“It’s the foreign prince, isn’t it? The one you ditched me at the ball for? I hear he’s been staying here for a while.” Jimin did not beat around the bush, and your cheeks grew warm as you recounted that wonderful night with Yoongi in the garden. “Ah, it is.”

“I just don’t get it. I only spent a few hours getting to know him that night, and he made me feel more alive than any boring prince I’ve known for years.” Your best friend was silent, which meant he wanted you to continue. “I made a mistake by agreeing to let him stay here, all its done is make him resent me, and all I want to do is shake those stupid broad shoulders and scream ‘you’re literally the best thing that’s walked into my life, please be my king and rule by side,’ or is that crazy?” Your question on your insanity had been lost to Yoongi’s prying ears, who had decided to peak into the garden to see which prince it was that you were seeing. All Yoongi had been able to hear was, unfortunately, the part where you confessed your feelings for the man in front of you. He continued to look on at the interaction unfolding before him, but he was only able to make out a few words here and there.

“What do you think his reply to that would be? Would he reciprocate the feelings,” Jimin proceeds to mockingly hold your hands to his chest, but to Yoongi it seemed like the prince had accepted your confession, “and say, oh Y/N, I love you so much!” To dramatize it even more, Jimin twirled you around and dipped you low getting too close to your face for Yoongi’s comfort. Deciding he’d seen enough, he begins to leave the garden with every step feeling like lead. “You have snot in your nose, Y/N, no wonder he wouldn’t like you back.” You hit Jimin’s arm as hard as you could, and the last thing Yoongi heard in the garden was the sound of your beautiful, heart-wrenching laughter.

Your afternoon in the gardens with Jimin had done well to lift your spirits, but as you sat at your vanity that evening, you couldn’t help but feel your heart squeeze a little more at the thought of Yoongi. Jimin’s dramatic representation of your confession to the prince you had become so quickly infatuated with, left your imagination running wild at the idea of it. A short, yet loud, knock sounded at your door, and you took your time to answer it; your peace and quiet was something that you cherished. When you opened the door, there was no one there, and peering into the hallway it was as if no one ever had been. As you began to shut the door, you noticed an envelope on the ground leaning neatly against the wall outside your door. Skeptically you picked it up and turned it over in your hands, immediately recognizing the wonderful mint color of house Min on the seal. You flew to your desk and the search for a letter opened seemed to be more difficult than it should have been. Once you had been able to tear it open, you opened the letter and began to read it, your breath catching in your throat at the first line.

Dear Y/N Princess Y/N

I am writing this letter to inform you that I will be making my departure home tomorrow morning. Your father had brought it to my attention that you thought it would be best for me to return home, and I am taking that as my hint to do so. I apologize with my entire being for my unwarranted shift in personality, and my cold demeanor towards you after that night in the garden. My behavior towards you has been nothing short of unnecessary and unwarranted. You are royalty in every sense of the word; from your heart to your policies, to your ability to make those overly-frivolous ballgowns look breathtaking. You are the kind of princess that makes people like me feel shamed for carrying the title of prince. I am deeply sorry for letting my insecurities ruin what had been the best encounter I’ve ever had with someone. I hope that you can forgive my harsh words and that you will find it within you to not let my arrogance interfere with political matters between our kingdoms. I suppose I can be thankful that my actions pushed you into the arms of someone who is much more capable and fit to rule by your side, the prince from the garden seems to compliment you well. I wish you only the best.

Sincerely, Yoongi.

Tears had initially begun to fill your eyes as you read the letter, slowly soaking in every word, every stroke of ink. When your eyes skimmed across the last few lines, panic began to set in as you realized that Yoongi saw you this afternoon. Pretending to confess your love to Jimin. Oh no. No. No. You frantically began pulling on a dress that would be deemed appropriate enough to be seen outside your bedroom, and you sprinted down the corridor of the castle without bothering to properly tie up the corset. I’m covered and that’s what matters. Please be where I think you’ll be, please. You sent up a silent prayer as you raced through the castle. It was unusually dark when you entered the garden, the light from the lamps only giving you enough light to see what’s in front of you; you noticed that tonight was the night of a new moon, meaning that Yoongi had been staying with you for a month now. Despite this, you could faintly make out the figure near the pond and you raced towards him as quickly as your legs could carry you. You surprised both Yoongi and yourself as you brazenly threw your arms around his neck and collided into him.

“Princess Y/N, what are you doing here?”

“Oh, don’t play coy with me, Yoongi, what is the meaning of this?” You held the letter towards him and all but shook it in his face.

“It’s exactly what I said it is. A goodbye. I’m leaving in the morning.” Your eyes had begun adjusting to the darkness and you could see the bags under Yoongi’s eyes, stress from the last week had physically taken a toll on him. “You told your father you didn’t want me here.”

“Damn my father and his inability to spread information correctly. No, Yoongi. I told my father I thought it would be best for you to leave because you don’t like it here. How can you think I don’t want you here when my selfish desire for your company is the reason why you hate me!” You huffed.

“I don’t hate you,” Yoongi mumbled, “it’s quite the opposite actually.” His voice trailed off.

“Then why have you been so cold!” You were almost yelling at this point.

“I told you! I’m not worthy to be held to any standard equal to you. Being distant and cold from the beginning hurts less than it would have if I had grown any more attached to you than I already am; I couldn’t stand the thought of you realizing how pathetic I am as a prince.”

“I didn’t realize it troubled you so much. I’m sorry for forcing you into playing the adopted prince,” Yoongi looked like he was going to say something but you stopped him, “but in a sense, I don’t think I am. You told me that night of the ball that your opinions are never heard, and I think that is a shame because I think you have a sound head on your shoulders. Not only that, but you’ve begun to gain confidence in yourself; people are boasting about how willing you have been to participate in the recent council meetings.”

“That doesn’t deem me worthy of much.”

“How hard is it for you to realize that if I didn’t think you were worthy, I would have ignored you like I have with every other prince on the continent?”

“But,” Yoongi’s lips formed a thin line of frustration, “the prince. In the garden. I heard you confess your love to him.” You flicked Yoongi’s arm, and he yelped at the sting. “You’re a madwoman! What was that for?”

“That was for eavesdropping, and this,” you closed the distance between the two of you and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, “is for making the wrong assumptions of a princess.” As much as you wished you could let yourself drown in his kiss, a point needed to be made. “He’s my best friend, Yoongi, we’ve known each other since birth, and he’s completely in love with my cousin, Minah.” The blush on Yoongi’s face grew even deeper as he turned away in embarrassment.

“This is awkward now, I’m sorry. I should’ve been more honest and not made assumptions.”

“You’re human, Yoongi, it happens.” Yoongi pulled you into his arms, and the two of you stood there silent as you both relished in the moment. The wall between you had finally been torn down, and perhaps something could be made now.

“Can we start over so that I can properly earn your favor and the chance to court you?” His question came with a shy smile after you parted from the embrace. The smile grew into a wide gummy one, as you nodded your head eagerly at his suggestion. The two of you bowed and curtsied, much more gracefully this time arrived. “May I have this dance, Princess Y/N?”

“Of course,” you nodded, “for the moment, I am no princess. I am Y/N, you are Yoongi.” Once again, he led you in a harmonious waltz as the two of you danced to the sound of birds, the wind, and your beating hearts. “And we are happy again. So please, skip the formalities.”

#bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts one shot #Yoongi fanfic #BTS au #jimin fanfic #yoongi one shot #yoongi au

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zabinizara · 4 years

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And I will roar into the heavens that those who will raise a hand against me shall perish in the attempt. And I will roar into the heavens that I am a force to be reckoned with, and those who can not recognize that will be taught.

Don’t you think ZARA ZABINI looks a lot like ZOE KRAVITZ? Apparently SHE is PROTECTIVE and INTUITIVE but can also be RUTHLESS and SELF-SERVING. They are TWENTY-FIVE and were sorted into SLYTHERIN. The HALF-BLOOD (PART-VEELA) is affiliated with THE DEATH EATERS works as a POTIONEER, and lives in CHELSEA, LONDON. (blossom, 24, MST, she/her)

AESTHETICS :

Liquid silver dripping into a dark green bottle, a pet boa constrictor lovingly cared for, shattered tea cups, keeping secrets so tightly to your chest they wind around your heartstrings, a stack of diamond rings, black lace lingerie worn under a stark white wedding dress, smeared red lipstick, soft moans, power - endless and consuming power, emeralds, thigh high boots, bleach burning your nose, crocodile tears, lipstick on a cigarette, ballet shoes.

HEADCANONS :

O N E ;; Zara is bisexual and biromantic. She will develop feelings for anyone deserving of those feelings and she’s not quiet about it. In fact, in the halls of Hogwarts, she would be seen holding hands with men and women alike.

T W O ;; According to the Veela Wikipedia page, the powers only work on men. This is the reason Zara has so many female friends. She can’t trust that men are around her because they’re interested in her or if they’re interested in the supernatural beauty she exudes. She feels her dynamic with women to be much more genuine.

T H R E E ;; Her Veela mother was the first one to show her power in its truest form. While Monique Zabini loved her husband, she did not love the men who ogled at the two of them. She with her dark skin and he with that of a porcelain dish. It came to a cusp when Zara and her mother were walking and a man made a deplorable comment about helping her make another light-skinned child. In a flash Monique, her beautiful and effervescent mother, became a monster. And, as quickly as it had begun, it had ended. She was herself once more, her silk dress now stained with blood. “Zara,” her mother had whispered to her that evening, braiding the child’s coarse hair. “You are never to allow a man to treat you as anything less than holy.” Zara's large eyes glanced at her mother through the reflection. “Yes, Mother.” And you know what they say. A monster is as a monster does.

F O U R ;; Her skin color has been the one thing Zara has yet to embrace. With her (literally) enchanting beauty, she’s never known what it is that truly, genuinely draws people in if it’s not her Veela abilities. Growing up, her ideals of beauty were her mother - dark skin the color of the pure silt running through the river beside her house - and the friends her mother brought around - skin as white as the snow that fell on the grass beside her house. She was neither, and when she looked in the mirror she wondered where she would ever fit. In her Hogwarts house, forced to hide her heritage to not become the enemy - in public, forced to decide whether she was more black or more white. Couldn’t she just be Zara?

MISC :

boggart ;; her father as an Inferius. she knows he and her mother are her only two weak spots (until her son is born) and that if her father were to face her again, that would be the only thing to cause her to falter in battle.

patronus ;; an acromantula, the giant spider crawls up the walls and fends off Dementors. this is her Patronus because she is as venomous and unforgiving as the creatures, though their loyalty can be won - as can hers.

favorite spell ;; Cruciatus Curse

amortentia ;; the French countryside when it’s raining, her favorite bakery in Italy and lavenders

wand ;;

—- wood ; cedar wood | The witch or wizard who is well-matched with cedar carries the potential to be a frightening adversary, which often comes as a shock to those who have thoughtlessly challenged them.

—- core ; Veela hair

—- length ; 10 inches

playlist ;; [ HERE ]

pinboard ;; [ HERE ]

BIOGRAPHY :

*TW FOR SEXUAL ASSAULT, DEATH OF A FAMILY MEMBER, PREGNANCY AND MURDER*

When Zara was born, her father’s eyes sparkled. A tear rolled down his cheek, and her mother - with a tired arm - reached to wipe it clear. “She’s beautiful,” he had whispered. “She’s our little miracle,” her mother had agreed.

Her face was perfect, even moments after birth. Drawing the nurses and doctors to wonder at her face in awe, astonished by the newborn’s beauty. She was just shy of one hour old and her existence was already cause for conversation. She grew up comfortably, in a large home right on a river in Scotland. Her father doted on both she and her mother, arriving home with flowers for both of them for no specific occasion. Simply for being his world, he’d told them. He was everything Zara wanted to find in a man - one to grow old with.

She was ten years old when her father didn’t come home from work one evening. Just old enough to understand what the Aurors meant when they said he’d been found, dead in an alley with his wallet missing. Her father had been taken from her over thirty Galleons, and he would never see her grow up. Monique was inconsolable, and therefore not of much help to her daughter as she struggled through the process alone. One day, things changed. Monique was done crying, she was there to braid Zara’s hair again.

“What did you do, Mama?,” Zara asked. “I didn’t let a man treat my family as anything less than holy.” She had said almost the same thing years ago, walking away from the scene in a blood stained dress. She was exuding emotion. Not just emotion. Justice. Not just justice. Revenge.

Zara longed for a taste of revenge.

Her beauty, the inescapable attention it brought, made it nearly impossible for her to be sure whose intentions were pure. She had a hard time trusting her heart in the hands of the ravenous boys who roamed the halls of Hogwarts. Or anywhere for that matter. And in Fifth Year her tentative spirit around them was proven correct as a man two years her elder held her down, silencing her cries for help. The next day he mysteriously lost his footing off of a ledge in the Astronomy Tower. Zara gave what happened to her no credit to turning her into what she had become. No, she would never give the pain someone had put her through the privilege of being the reason she was strong. She was the reason she was strong. She’d learned from a young age that to be strong was to be untouchable - and god help the person who dared to touch her.

The taste of power it gave her satiated the hunger for revenge that had been aching in her chest for years. She had come out on top. She would never let anyone hurt her again, and she finally felt whole. It was borderline sociopathic behavior, and despite knowing that, she continued her warpath, tearing through the halls radiating an energy only fools would choose to go up against.

Her time came when a recruiter of the Dark Lord approached her - her first husband. A wealthy man who she drew in with her charms, her beauty, her enchanting voice. Then, when she was high enough in Voldemort’s ranks - much more useful than her husband, of course - he found himself at the wrong end of a poisoned tea. She liked the way he writhed in pain beneath her. What they had had never been love. But still, she wiped away crocodile tears as they buried him, treating herself to a new necklace the next day.

She is powered by power. And men came to her, desperate to know what she might taste like. Women, too, only they never found themselves clawing at their own throats as fire tore through them from the inside out. She was gentle with women, allowed them in and out of her Venus Fly Trap as they pleased. A Black Widow, they called her. She liked it. She liked the sound of the venom behind the name she had been given.

Another husband came and went. A Pureblood she met while visiting her mother in France. It wasn’t long before he, too, met his end. Although she waited until he had given her a child and she knew she could secure another fortune before his… untimely death. Her hunger for revenge may have been satiated, but with every sip of power that she’s gotten over the years, the thirst becomes stronger.

#musings.#about.#intro.

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villedesmorterpg · 7 years

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"You know, I can give you a list of people who have underestimated me. Not one of them has done it a second time."

↠ Birthdate: August 24th, 1997 (19) ↠ Gender: Female ↠ Sexuality: Up to Player ↠ Occupation: Up to Player ↠ Faceclaim: Danielle Campbell

Davina grew up in the French Quarter with a single, controlling mother, as her father left the picture before Davina was born and was not seen again. Davina went to public school with a boy named Tim, whom she met at age 10, and for whom she developed romantic feelings. It was mentioned that she took piano lessons. Davina was also best friends with Monique for some time before the Harvest, and was a member of the French Quarter witches. She was also one of the four young witches chosen for The Harvest ritual.

On the day the Harvest was to be completed, Davina and the other Harvest girls were deceived by the Elders regarding their fates and the events surrounding the sacrifice. They were told that the knife that was used on their palms for the blood sacrifice would put them in a peaceful limbo. Instead, Bastianna, the lead Elder who was performing the ritual, began to kill the girls by slitting their throats. As the last girl to be sacrificed, Davina witnessed the slaughter of the other selected girls, and was restrained by a fellow witch in her coven so she could not intervene. She felt betrayed by the Elders, as well as her mother, who stood by and witnessed the devastation and slaughter.

However, when Marcel and his vampires appeared, they effectively ended the sacrifice by killing the majority of the witches in attendance. In doing so, Marcel saved Davina's life and she lived with him for eight months afterwards. Marcel spent the next eight months hiding her from the witches, and using her powers to help keep the witches in subjugation out of punishment for what they did to her and the other girls. The witches later felt betrayed by Davina, and when she was finally sacrificed in the Harvest and her spirit went back into the earth with the rest of the deceased New Orleans witches who practiced ancestral magic, the Ancestors shunned her until she was resurrected.

Once Davina was brought back to life, she returned to her coven for a while, but left after Monique and Abigail were killed. When she realized what the covens were capable of, she wanted no part of it. But staying away wasn’t as easy as it sounded. The ancestors wanted their witch back, and they weren’t going to give her up without a fight. After threatening to murder Marcel, and even Josh, she was forced back into the coven against her wishes, though if it meant keeping her friends safe, she was willing to do anything they asked.

When tensions flew between the groups occupying New Orleans, Davina was caught in the middle as a witch that had friends on all sides, sometimes even forced to choose between them even when she didn’t want to. They left her no choice, guiding her movements from beyond the spirit world until finally she broke free, using her power to block them out and keep them from having any access to her or her friends with the help of Freya Mikaelson. Little did she know, she could only keep them out for so long, and their anger was certainly not something to meddle with.

Davina's base personality seems to be that of a sweet girl longing for a normal life, however the events of her life have given her a dark side that she is not afraid to use, if the situation calls for it. Davina is a quiet girl living a very sheltered life. However, the extreme levels of restriction that have been placed upon her, has caused her to be hot-tempered, a bad combination with her level of power. Due to her seemingly naive and kind personality, Davina is often the subject of manipulation. Over the course of the series, she has been lied to/was used on a few occasions. Which has lead her to become more distrustful and paranoid, a trait Mikael pointed out.

Marcel Gerard ↠ – Davina met Marcel when he saved her from nearly being killed in The Harvest. Ever since then he has been protecting her from the witches who wish to complete the ritual. Davina trusted and even loved Marcel yet that trust was broken when Marcel didn't tell her that the last remaining elder and the last thing posing a threat to her, Agnes was dead. While Marcel was banished from the French Quarter, Marcel continued to watch Davina from afar and in a sense, she felt like he was there watching her. She loves him very much and would do anything to save him.

Camille O’Connell ↠ – Davina first met Camille when Marcel invited the woman to look out for her during a festival. From that point on the two women bonded and became fast friends. Camille continues to look out for Davina and vice versa.

Joshua Rosza ↠ – Josh and Davina are best friends. They first met when Marcel found about Klaus compelling him to spy on Marcel, and Marcel to Davina to erase his compulsion.The two bonded, and became good friends after that. She was supposed to erase his memory of her but she didn't. After that, they continued to secretly meet and Josh helped her when she was escaping from Klaus, Marcel and the Witches. They are best friends and would do anything for each other.

This character is TAKEN.

#davina claire #danielle campbell #the originals #the originals rp #rpg #all #witch #taken

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Meagan Good Height Weight Measurements

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Meagan Good Height Weight Measurements

Meagan Good Biography

Meagan Monique Good-Franklin born August 8, 1981 is an American performing artist. Starting her profession in 1985 at four years old, Good has showed up in various TV programs, movies, and music recordings. In 2011, Good highlighted in a gathering cast of the fruitful film rendition of Think Like a Man. She played Joanna Locasto, the lead character on the NBC dramatization arrangement Deception. She featured in the 2013 drama Anchorman 2: The Legend Continues and has earned a notoriety for being a shout ruler, having featured in the blood and gore movies Venom (2005), One Missed Call (2008), Saw V (2008), and The Unborn (2009). Great was conceived on August 8, 1981, in Panorama City, Los Angeles, California. Her mom, Tyra Wardlow-Doyle, functioned as Good’s director into her teenagers, and her dad, Leondis “Leon” Good, is a LAPD cop. Great guaranteed that her maternal grandma’s parentage is “Jewish and African. My mom’s dad was Cherokee and something different. My father’s mom’s Puerto Rican and dark, and his dad was from Barbados.” Although, she has depicted herself as a Christian. Great was raised with her three kin in Canyon Country (now known as Santa Clarita), California. She started her acting vocation around the age of four. In the beginning periods of her vocation, Good filled in as an additional on TV programs, for example, Doogie Howser, M.D. what’s more, Amen. When she was 13, she was thrown in her first film, the 1995 parody Friday. She initially increased basic acknowledgment for her execution as the pained adolescent Cisely Batiste in Kasi Lemmons’ 1997 film Eve’s Bayou; she got two honor assignments, including her first NAACP Image Award designation. As indicated by Good, she grew up “super geeky, super thin, buckteeth, enormous ole afro but then I had a feeling of certainty about myself, similar to, ‘they simply don’t get it yet'”. She was a fanatic of Justin Timberlake and Usher in her adolescents. Great did not have any good examples until early adulthood, when she started appreciating on-screen character Charlize Theron. In spite of the fact that she was not brought up in the congregation, Good is a Christian, sees herself as an exceptionally profound individual and has expressed in various meetings that she would not assume parts that she feels may “frustrate God”. She clarified in a meeting that Jesus beat her legend list and the last book she read was the Bible. Great at age 22 concentrated on her profession instead of dating, as she clarified in a 2004 meeting. In 2011, Good started dating DeVon Franklin, an official for Columbia Pictures and Seventh-day Adventist evangelist. They wound up noticeably occupied with early April 2012, and were hitched on June 16, 2012, at Triunfo Creek Winery in Malibu, California. They have expressed that they stayed pure preceding their marriage. They live respectively in Los Angeles, California. Meagan Good Height Weight, Filmography & Dating History Below.

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Meagan Good Personal Info.

Full Name: Meagan Monique Good

Nick Name: Mz Good, Fallon Mack

Family Members: Leondis “Leon” Good (Father) Tyra Wardlow-Doyle (Mother)

Education: Good’s educational is not known

Date of Birth: 8th August, 1981

Birthplace: Panorama City, California, USA

Zodiac Sign: Leo

Religion: Christian

Ethnicity: Multiracial

Nationality: American

Profession: Actress, Film Producer

Measurements: 35-24-36 in or 89-61-91.5 cm

Bra Size: 32C

Height: 5′ 5″ (165 cm)

Weight: 117lbs (53 kg)

Eye Color: Brown – Dark

Hair Color: Black

Dress Size: 4

Shoe Size: 6.5

Boyfriend/Dating History: Hosea Chanchez (1995-1998) – The two performers were impractically connected to each other from April 1995 to June 1998. Lil’ Wayne (1998-2001) – Meagan met her first love, rapper Lil Wayne in March 1998, when the two were completing a show in Los Angeles. They dated ON and OFF for a long time until March 2001. Tyrese Gibson (1998-2006) – In 1998, Meagan began dating the American on-screen character, artist, and creator, Tyrese Gibson. The couple separated in April 2006 in the wake of dating ON and OFF for couple of years. 50 Cent (2001-2004) – Good dated rapper 50 Cent for a long time from April 2001 to March 2004. Joseph Gordon-Levitt (2004) – She dated performer Joseph from April 2004 to October 2004. Alex Thomas (2005) – In late 2005, she dated comic Alex Thomas. They were impractically connected to each other from June to December 2005. Jamie Foxx (2006) – From January to April 2006, she dated performing artist Jamie Foxx, who is around 14 years more established than her. Scratch Cannon (2006) – For around a half year in 2006 (April to October), the two on-screen characters dated each other. Thomas Jones (2007-2010) – For around three and a half years (from January 2007 to May 2010), football player, Thomas Jones dated Meagan. Soulja Boy (2008-2009) – Rapper Soulja Boy dated Meagan from November 2008 to January 2009. There is a 9 years old distinction between the two (Soulja Boy being more youthful than Good). DeVon Franklin (2011-Present) – She at long last began dating Columbia Pictures official and a Seventh-day Adventist evangelist, DeVon Franklin in 2011 and connected with him in April 2012. Not long after on June 16, 2012, they wedded each other in Malibu, California.

Known For: Eves Bayou.

Active Year: 2006 (present)

Friends: Tyrese, Columbus Short

Favorite Places: Hanging Out With Her Friends, Shopping

Favorite Foods: Yams, Seafood

Favorite Colors: Purple

Favorite School Subject: Arts

Favorite Color: Purple

Twitter

FaceBook

Instagram

Film

Year Title 1995 Friday 1995 Make a Wish, Molly 1997 Eve’s Bayou 1999 The Secret Life of Girls 2000 3 Strikes 2000 Cousin Skeeter: New kids on the Planet 2001 House Party 4: Down to the Last Minute 2002 Unglued 2003 Biker Boyz 2003 Deliver Us from Eva 2003 Ride or Die 2004 D.E.B.S. 2004 You Got Served 2004 The Cookout 2005 Brick 2005 Venom 2005 Roll Bounce 2006 Miles from Home 2006 Waist Deep 2007 Stomp the Yard 2008 One Missed Call 2008 The Love Guru 2008 Saw V 2009 The Unborn 2009 Good Hair 2011 35 and Ticking 2011 Jumping the Broom 2011 Video Girl 2012 LUV 2012 Dysfunctional Friends 2012 Think Like a Man 2012 Defeat the Label 2012 The Obama Effect 2012 Dick Little 2013 Don Jon 2013 Anchorman 2: The Legend Continues 2014 Think Like a Man Too 2015 A Girl Like Grace 2016 Charlie, Trevor and a Girl Savannah 2017 Deuces 2017 Motivated Seller

Television

Year Title 1991 Gabriel’s Fire 1994 On Our Own 1996 ABC Afterschool Special 1997 Just One of the Girls 1997 Pacific Blue 1997 Touched by an Angel 1997 The Gregory Hines Show 1997 The Parent ‘Hood 1998 The Parent ‘Hood 1998 Nothing Sacred 1998–2001 Cousin Skeeter 2000 Moesha 2000 The Steve Harvey Show 2001 The Division 2001 The Famous Jett Jackson 2001–2002 Raising Dad 2002 The Jersey 2003 My Wife and Kids 2005 Kevin Hill 2007 House 2007 All of Us 2009 Cold Case 2011 The Game 2012 Californication 2012 Harry’s Law 2013 Deception 2014 Law & Order: Special Victims Unit 2015 Mr. Robinson 2015 Minority Report 2016 Code Black 2017 Love by the 10th Date 2017 White Famous

See Also: Claire Forlani Body Measurements

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