#i hope hé dies soon | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

empiredesimparte · 10 months

Text

Joachim: Oyez oyez! The Emperor is back from Compiègne! Aimery: And in very good company!

Napoléon V: Who could resist such beauty? I'll give her my hand, and... my life

Philippe: A rare beauty, indeed, with a lot of character.

Napoléon V: Just the way we like them, eh Philippe? Joachim: Are you jealous, Phil?

Philippe: Not at all, I'm happy for Louis Grégoire: How does it feel, your last night as a free man?

Napoléon V: I must admit, I don't feel much difference. Is that a good sign?

Oliver: Don't worry, Louis, you'll soon feel the difference

Joachim (laughs) Napoléon V: It should go well with a bit of your whisky

Joachim: Between the whisky and Charlotte, our Emperor's in no position to reign! Thank you Oliver!

Oliver: Well, I hope the Emperor is sure of himself. He'll soon be looking like a sober man with his soda, surrounded by tempting and delicious spirits

Napoléon V (teasing): What women are you talking about, my dear friend? Shall I tell my sister?

Oliver: I just want to point out that once you're married, you'll attract all the more women. Many want the benefits of a wife, without the official duties associated with it. And… In view of your ancestors, my theory seems to be borne out

Napoléon V: Really?

Grégoire: Charlotte can look after herself, don't worry Louis

Napoléon V (can't resist the whisky, drunk): Anyway, I don't need your help, I'm guided by Providence Oliver: Come on

Napoléon V: I'm doing all this for Phil', poor chap, he nearly became Emperor of the French

Philippe: Don't talk nonsense Louis Joachim: It's nothing Phil', he's already completely drunk Napoléon V: Shut up!

⚜ Le Cabinet Noir | Palais des Tuileries, 20 Prairial An 230

Beginning ▬ Previous ▬ Next

Napoléon V and a few friends celebrated his bachelor party at the palace. Joachim, his best friend and organizer, wanted to make it a rococo party, as he couldn't have fun outside the palace for security reasons.

(Thanks @officalroyalsofpierreland !)

⚜ Traduction française

Napoléon V et quelques proches fêtent son enterrement de vie de jeune homme au palais. Joachim, son meilleur ami et organisateur, a souhaité en faire une soirée rococo, à défaut de pouvoir s'amuser à l'extérieur du palais pour des raisons de sécurité.

Joachim : Oyez oyez! L'Empereur est de retour de Compiègne! Aimery : Et en très bonne compagnie!

Napoléon V : Qui aurait pu résister à une telle beauté? Je veux bien y laisser ma main

Philippe : Une rare beauté, en effet, avec beaucoup de caractère

Napoléon V : Comme on les aime, n'est-ce pas Philippe? Joachim : Tu es jaloux Phil' ?

Philippe : Nullement, je suis heureux pour Louis Grégoire : Ca fait quoi, ta dernière nuit comme homme libre ?

Napoléon V : Je ne ressens pas trop de différence, je dois l'avouer. Est-ce bon signe ?

Oliver : Ne t'en fais pas Louis, tu sentiras rapidement la différence

Joachim (rigole) Napoléon V : Ca devrait aller avec un peu de ton whisky

Joachim : Entre le whisky et Charlotte, notre Empereur est mal barré pour régner! Merci Oliver!

Oliver : Hé bien, j'espère que l'Empereur est sûr de lui. Il aura bientôt l'air d'un homme sobre avec son soda, entouré d'alcools tentants et délicieux

Napoléon V (taquine) : De quelles femmes parlez-vous, très cher ami? Dois-je en avertir ma soeur?

Oliver : Je veux simplement souligner qu'une fois marié, tu attireras d'autant plus de femmes. Beaucoup souhaitent les avantages d'une épouse, sans les devoirs officiels associés. Et... Au-vu de tes ancêtres, ma théorie semble se confirmer

Napoléon V : Vraiment ? Je ne souhaite pas faire de mal à Charlotte

Grégoire : Charlotte saura se défendre toute seule, ne t'en fais pas Louis

Napoléon V (ne résiste pas au whisky, bourré) : De toute façon, j'ai pas besoin de votre aide, je suis guidé par la Providence Oliver : Allons donc

Napoléon V : Je fais tout ça pour Phil', le pauvre, il a failli être Empereur des Français

Philippe : Ne dis pas n'importe quoi Louis Joachim : C'est rien Phil', il est déjà complètement saoul Napoléon V : Ta gueule toi!

64 notes · View notes

rainiedeforest · 4 years

Text

MDZS headcanons - Madame Lan and Qingheng-jun [PART 1]

So... it happens that I was rewatching the show and I found charming and hilarious how all the people in the town found so many similarities between Lan Wangji and Lan Shizui (when he was Wen Yuan and little and clingy and so so cute that you wanted to put him inside your pocket to protect him), and also, and also I had this need to put in words some ideas about Madame Lan and Qingheng-jun because I think that we only knew a part of the story (the same story that was created by the elders who hated Madame Lan so… Was it all really true?) I cannot imagine Madame Lan or Qingheng-jun telling his sons the real story (they had better things to do as spending time in the first case and meeting them in the second) Also, I’m a sucker for romance in all ways so… here I am xD. Hope you like them :3 (It’s a little long and it will have mistakes because english is not my first language, sorry in advance. Also, this is longer than I have expected so... I will divide it in three parts.)

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

But first of all, the names. I’m going to give a name to Madame Lan (because only madame lan isn’t enough) and also to Qingheng-jun (whose name I think is only a title). Also, I’m sorry about any mistakes I could make, I don’t know Chinese and I only have access to Google translate and some other online dictionaries.

Madame Lan

Birth name: Zhi Aiyan: 治爱艳

Zhi (治) for “to rule”, but also for “to treat (a disease) Ài (爱) as in love Yàn (艳) as colorful, splendid.

I have searched the meaning in a online dictionary and the combination of (爱) Ài and (艳) yàn has this meaning: plaintive and beautiful or melancholy but gorgeous. And I think it will suit her really well.

Courtesy name: Lan Yingyue (蓝映月)

Yìng (映) as in to reflect (light), to shine. Yuè (月) as in moon

The name complete with the surname means reflection of the blue moon (and the why of this name... you will find it below)

Qingheng-jun

Birth name: Lán Suān qū (蓝酸曲)

Suān qū (酸曲) means “love song”

But also, thanks to the dictionary; I found that suān (酸) could means “sick at heart; grieved; sore; aching, pedantic; impractical” and that qū (曲) means song or tune.

Courtesy name: Lán Tiáo Hé (蓝调和), because this two characters means harmonious, to mediate, to reconcile, to compromise.

Headcanons

Zhi Aiyan belongs to a small family specialized in medicine and, more concretely, in problems with the golden core. His father is a cultivator that had learned all he knew thanks to his teaching under the wing of the branch of the Wen Clan that cultivates the medicine (the same branch as Wen Qing and Wen Ning). Her mother, on the other hand, was part of the Wen Clan when she was younger and before she married Zhi Aiyan’s father.

Her parents met there when his father was studying and fall in love with her mother, so Zhi Aiyan always wanted a love match like them.

They live in a small town near Yiling, where her father teaches her all about medicine and the art of cultivation with the help of her mother. She is a great student and soon she also made a little name in the cultivation world, destinated for only men and really few women. But, she isn’t the only one they teach, because his father has a few disciples that are also willing to learn.

When Aiyan turned fourteen, she engaged with one of the disciples of his father. She didn’t want to marry at first because she has in mind a lot of things she wanted to do with her life and also thoughs she was too young to marry anybody. Although, with some time and only because it was something her parents wanted for her (and they always wanted the best for their little girl), she learned to appreciate his fiancé, thinking that she has fallen in love with him at the end.

One night, when she was fourteen and she was searching for some medicinal herbs his father needed, she met Young Master Lan, Lan Tiaohe, in a forest near her house. He was badly injured but she helped him with some leafs of wild ginger and cut the blood of the open wound he had. Tiaohe didn’t saw her or had the opportunity to thank her because: first, he fainted because of the pain and second ‘cause she runs away scared when she heard the voices of the other disciples of GusuLan (they where 'harmless' and would take care of the young man, but she couldn't risk being mistaken for the person who had hurt Tiaohe).

Three years later, Aiyan was traveling before her wedding, searching some medicinal herbs to gift to her fiancé the day of. She was outside the city of Gusu when Tiaohe saw her and “fall in love at the first sight”.

But was it really “love at the first sight”? Tiaohe knew he felt a connection, an attraction to the mysterious woman, but he barely knew her. He was a hopeless romantic so love at the first sight sounded great for him.

He tried to talk with her, but the woman disappeared faster than a flicker. When he reaches Cloud Recesses, he found his little brother he told him that he had saw the perfect girl. “Believe me, Qiren, she looked like a goddess with the moonlight at her back illuminating her and her light color hanfu. I haven’t saw anything so beautiful ever.” Lan Qiren thought his brother had lost his mind because who would like to chase girls when you can improve your cultivation?

Aiyan and Tiaohe met some more times, but, although the young master was really handsome, Aiyan was engaged and his intents never gone to far. He would never insult her that way.

With the months passing, they developed a little friendship whatnever they met in night hunts, learning little things about each other.

One day, when Aiyan was seventeen, she heard that GusuLan Sect Leader had died because of an ilness and that his son, Lan Tiaohe, would succeed him as Qingheng-jun. With that news, she wanted to comfort Tiaohe (because she cannot imagine her life without her father), but she wasn't even near Gusu, so it was difficult to do it. Nevertheless, destiny was on her side and she found, one month later, Tiaohe in the forest. Aiyan comforts him when he said her that he was scared that he would mess up as Sect Leader, but her words made him secure again and happy.

A few time later, her parents decided the date of her wedding and she told Qingheng-jun in a letter (one of many). He congratulated her although he was feeling like dying inside. The woman he was in love with was going to be of other man, she was going to smile at him, hug him, kiss him... That man was going to be the most afortunated of all the world.

Lan Qiren was preocupaded for his older brother, because he was melancholic and sad and seems more a living dead that the brother he knew. That woman, because the cause of his problems had to be one, wasn't what she wanted for his brother and he hated her a little each day. “What happenend, xiongzhang?” “Yingyue is going to get married” “Who?” “The goddess of the moon I have talked about like... everyday.”

Lan Qiren had mixed feelings with that confession but said nothing. That ‘Yingyue’... What Qiren didn’t know was that that name had been given by Tiaohe to her so he will be able to talk about her without anyone being able to trace her and put her in danger (being engaged and all that, it would have been a scandal to talk about Aiyan using her birth name).

The night before the wedding, while Aiyan and his father were in a night hunt, having a last bonding time before she was gone, they fell in a trap. She asked for help of the group of disciples from the GusuLan Sect that were hunting in the forest but, as the monster they were fighting was too powerfull, the elder that was guideing the group left they at their own luck, saving also his disciples. Aiyan’s father died before her eyes.

Aiyan and her mother cancelled the wedding because they were mourning the loss of a father and a husband, respectly. Aiyan and her mother cancelled the wedding because they were mourning the loss of a father and a husband, respectively, and it wasn't time for celebrations. Now, they were all alone in the world.

Aiyan searched his fiancé for comfort, thinking he was going to be with her and her mother in this difficult moments. But the reality was different. She found that her fiancé not only has orchested the death of her father, but also he was aiming to take control over the medical information for selling it.

Aiyan was miserable. She couldn’t conceive that she had been deceived for so long by her fiancé, who had put his own ambition ahead of something else as the health of the people, wishing to keep the medical writings of the Aiyan's family.

Qingheng-jun, for his part, did nothing but talk Qiren about Aiyan, the feats he had heard from her, about how proud, strong and independent she was. A free spirit. The elders heard him one night and weren’t happy about it ‘cause they were preparing the engagement of Qingheng-jun.

Aiyan, devastated, searched revenge, first against her fiancé (whom she managed to drive him away) and, later, against the elder of the Lan clan, although she knew that it would not be so easy to reach the second.

She investigated on the outskirts of the city and was sure she would get him ambushed, however the one she finds is Qingheng-jun. Aiyan, hurt, shouted her that their friendship meant nothing for him, that his clan believed themselves superior just because they belonged to a large sect and that any life that was not their own was less than nothing.

Qingheng-jun wasn’t understanding anything and asked her to please explain to him, but Aiyan was so angry that she tried to attack him with her sword, Bichen. She just had to avenge her father, even if that wasn't going to bring him back. Qingheng-jun gently stopped her and tried to make her reason in a soft voice.

But the same elder who had let her father die in that night hunt, had followed Qingheng-jun so that he wouldn’t commit any madness, seeing the girl and misinterpreting the whole situation (Aiyan was crying in Qingheng-jun's arms).

After a heated discussion, Aiyan shouted all her doubts at the elder (Why didn't he help her father? Why was he so close to her fiancé? What did he get out of all that?) And Qingheng-jun asked his master to please clarify all that.

When the eldest refused to tell her absolutely anything, not wanting to know anything about an opportunistic and dirty woman who only wanted to climb and gain a power position by taking advantage of Qingheng-jun's good feelings, Aiyan launched her into attacking him with her sword, hoping that way she received some more answers, achieving nothing. Just a few wounds that she would have to deal with as soon as she was alone.

Qingheng-jun tried to stop them, calming Aiyan enough to stop her attacks, but his master demanded that, for the sake of the clan, he get away from that bad woman and return to have the upright life that was expected of him, a person of his high position. The man rushed to attack her and, after a few defensive movements with her sword, Bichen pierced, mortally, the body of the elder Lan, who cursed her before falling to the ground and throwing at the air a warning signal.

Aiyan was completely paralyzed without knowing what to do while Qingheng-jun felt his whole world breaking. A disciple who had come by the signal, witnessed the scene and fled to raise the alarm.

Qingheng-jun takes out a small sack with wild ginger leaves and tries to keep his master alive, panicking.

"I ... I did not ..." Aiyan, who never killed people but heal them, was so scared that she couldn’t even run away even if Qinghe-jun was begging her. This was the worst situation he could have ever imagined. He couldn't lose his master and the woman he loved in the same night, it was too much for him. The man had been a second father to him, but Aiyan... She was the woman of his life, the chosen one, the woman for what he knew he would leave everything behind, just as the founder of his sect, Lan An, had done. Qingheng-jun grabbed Aiyan's hand and fled as fast as he could as soon as he heard the rest of the disciples arrive at the alarm voice.

When they were far enough apart, Qinghe-jun spoke to Aiyan and asked her to run away for her life. He could bear not seeing her again as long as she was safe and sound, somewhere in this vast world. He knew that the rest of the clans would persecute her if the elders of GusuLan stipulated that she was a dangerous criminal. But Aiyan couldn't do that. She couldn't leave her mother alone. She had already suffered a lot with everything that had happened.

"I don't mind receiving the punishment. I know what I've done." "It was in self-defense!" "They won't see it that way, you know that." "A-Yan, please." "Sorry, Suanqu."

Then, Qingheng-jun, after cursing slightly, stared at her for several seconds, confident, as wonderful as the night when he first saw her, and told her the only solution he had been able to come up with. It wasn't the brightest idea, but it would keep her and her mother safe. Aiyan didn't understand at first, repeating the bows until she saw what it meant, stopping before the third. And she refused, but Qingheng-jun pleaded her that it was the only way to save them both.

"No!" "It’s the only way!" "The only solution? Let me be punished! I killed a man!" "I can't lose you, Aiyan! Not you... Please..."

As Qingheng-jun tried to convince her, they both heard the footsteps and voices of the rest of the disciples. With one last pleading look, Qinghe-jun removed the ribbon from his forehead and wound it around her wrist, glancing at his sectmates as they reached them, led by other elders and her younger brother Qiren.

“What’s the meaning of this?” “It’s just what it’s seems.” “Xiongzhang, please, come with us.” “I can’t. Not without her.” “She is an assassin!” “No. She is my wife.

***

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

#Mdzs #Mdzs novel #Mdzs headcanons #The untamed #The untamed headcanons #Qingheng-jun #Madame Lan #lan zhan #Lan Wangji #Lan Huan #Lan Xichen #Lan Qiren #Headcanons #GusuLan #my writing

14 notes · View notes

mandopopguin · 4 years

Video

youtube

R-Chord ft. E.SO - The Apple (English Translation)

我站在四度空間角落凝視著你不安的面容 wǒ zhàn zài sì dù kōngjiān jiǎoluò níngshìzhe nǐ bù'ān dì miànróng I stand in the corner of the four dimensions, staring at your uneasy face 午夜後當心我的出沒我是顆迷人的毒蘋果 wǔyè hòu dāngxīn wǒ de chūmò wǒ shì kē mírén de dú píngguǒ After midnight, beware my haunting. I am the bewitching poison apple

Warnings: Bad Words (gasp), suicide mentions

I’m translating some songs for fun. Third song: 謝和弦 Feat. 瘦子 E-SO (頑童MJ116) – 蘋果. Started translating this to make funny jokes about a certain piece of my world Disney villain media, but then the lyrics went off the rails. Probably should have expected that from the music video.

Full translation + translator’s notes under the cut.

牛頓地心引力吸引不了到我 (掉下了腐敗結果) Niúdùn dì xīn yǐnlì xīyǐn bùliǎo dào wǒ (diào xiàle fǔbài jiéguǒ) Newton’s gravity can’t attract me (Rotted results fell off the tree) 留在樹上的我原來是顆禁果 (貪婪之蛇纏繞著我) liú zài shù shàng de wǒ yuánlái shì kē jìnguǒ (tānlán zhī shé chánràozhe wǒ) I'm the forbidden fruit on the tree (The snake of greed is twining around me) 不要偽裝我看的到你就像你看到我一樣外表光鮮亮麗是假象 bùyào wèizhuāng wǒ kàn de dào nǐ jiù xiàng nǐ kàn dào wǒ yīyàng wàibiǎo guāngxiān liang lì shì jiǎxiàng Don’t pretend I see you the same way you see me. Outside appearance is beautiful, but it’s a façade 白雪公主和那亞當夏娃赤裸裸躺在我的面前下場還是淒涼 báixuě gōngzhǔ hé nà yàdāng xiàwá chìluǒluǒ tǎng zài wǒ de miànqián xiàchǎng háishì qīliáng Snow White and Adam and Eve lie naked before me; the end is still bleak 這一切不是我願想像也不是我希望 zhè yīqiè bùshì wǒ yuàn xiǎngxiàng yě bùshì wǒ xīwàng This isn’t like I imagined, and it isn’t what I hoped 當我睜開雙眼發現有了邪惡力量 dāng wǒ zhēng kāi shuāng yǎn fāxiàn yǒule xié'è lìliàng When I opened my eyes, I found wicked power 給你一顆兩顆三顆四顆五顆毒蘋果 gěi nǐ yī kē liǎng kē sān kē sì kē wǔ kē dú píngguǒ Give you one, two, three, four, five poison apples 別忘了誰是下毒原首奸笑的巫婆 bié wàngle shuí shì xià dú yuán shǒu jiānxiào de wūpó Don’t forget the original poisoner, the wicked witch 我站在四度空間角落凝視著你不安的面容 wǒ zhàn zài sì dù kōngjiān jiǎoluò níngshìzhe nǐ bù'ān dì miànróng I stand in the corner of the four dimensions, staring at your uneasy face 午夜後當心我的出沒我是顆迷人的毒蘋果 wǔyè hòu dāngxīn wǒ de chūmò wǒ shì kē mírén de dú píngguǒ After midnight, beware my haunting. I am the bewitching poison apple 那是誰的眉頭像蛆不斷蠕動 (慌張的味道撲向了我) nà shì sheí de méitóu xiàng qū bùduàn rúdòng (huāngzhāng de wèidào pū xiàngle wǒ) Whose brows are constantly squirming like maggots? (The agitated taste pounced on me) 那是誰的拳頭落在你的臉孔 (清醒了之後快告訴我) nà shì sheí de quántóu luò zài nǐ de liǎn kǒng (qīng xǐng liǎo zhīhòu kuài gàosù wǒ) Whose fist fell on your face? (When you wake up, tell me) 不要偽裝我看的到你就像你看到我一樣外表光鮮亮麗是假象 bùyào wèizhuāng wǒ kàn de dào nǐ jiù xiàng nǐ kàn dào wǒ yīyàng wàibiǎo guāngxiān liang lì shì jiǎxiàng Don’t pretend I see you the same way you see me. The outside appearance is beautiful, but it’s a façade 白雪公主和那亞當夏娃赤裸裸躺在我的面前下場還是淒涼 báixuě gōngzhǔ hé nà yàdāng xiàwá chìluǒluǒ tǎng zài wǒ de miànqián xiàchǎng háishì qīliáng Snow White and Adam and Eve lie naked before me; the end is still bleak 這一切不是我願想像也不是我希望 zhè yīqiè bùshì wǒ yuàn xiǎngxiàng yě bùshì wǒ xīwàng This isn’t like I imagined, and it isn’t what I hoped 當我睜開雙眼發現有了邪惡力量 dāng wǒ zhēng kāi shuāng yǎn fāxiàn yǒule xié'è lìliàng When I opened my eyes, I found wicked power 給你一顆兩顆三顆四顆五顆毒蘋果 gěi nǐ yī kē liǎng kē sān kē sì kē wǔ kē dú píngguǒ Give you one, two, three, four, five poison apples 別忘了誰是下毒原首奸笑的巫婆 bié wàngle shuí shì xià dú yuán shǒu jiānxiào de wūpó Don’t forget the original poisoner, the wicked witch 我站在四度空間角落凝視著你不安的面容 wǒ zhàn zài sì dù kōngjiān jiǎoluò níngshìzhe nǐ bù'ān dì miànróng I stand in the corner of the four dimensions, staring at your uneasy face 午夜後當心我的出沒我是顆迷人的毒蘋果 wǔyè hòu dāngxīn wǒ de chūmò wǒ shì kē mírén de dú píngguǒ After midnight, beware my haunting. I am the bewitching poison apple Woo.. You like that huh? 反正沒你的事 Woo.. You like that huh? Fǎnzhèng méi nǐ de shì Woo.. You like that huh? Anyway, it’s none of your business Woo.. 一群野狗餓到連骨都吃 Woo.. Yīqún yě gǒu è dào lián gǔ dōu chī Woo.. A group of stray dogs is hungry enough to eat whole skeletons 告訴我要吃多少的藥病情才會好轉 gàosù wǒ yào chī duōshǎo di yào bìngqíng cái huì hǎozhuǎn Tell me how much medicine I need to take to get better 你給我吃了什麼藥我現在感覺好喘 nǐ gěi wǒ chīle shénme yào wǒ xiànzài gǎnjué hǎo chuǎn What medicine did you give me? I’m feeling breathless 堅持信仰就快要變得不重要 jiānchí xìnyǎng jiù kuàiyào biàn dé bù chóng yào Upholding your beliefs will be irrelevant before long 你有話就快說快說趁我現在沒瘋掉 nǐ yǒu huà jiù kuài shuō kuài shuō chèn wǒ xiànzài méi fēng diào If you have something to say, then say it before I go crazy 我是怎麼了你們怎麼了現在才發現 wǒ shì zěnmeliǎo nǐmen zěnmeliǎo xiànzài cái fāxiàn What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you? Just now realized 這柏油路都鋪了幾層了就快要塌陷 zhè bóyóu lù dōu pùle jǐ céngle jiù kuàiyào tāxiàn This asphalt road is paved in several layers. It’ll collapse soon 你可別說你有病要掛號我要先插隊 nǐ kě bié shuō nǐ yǒu bìng yào guàhào wǒ yào xiān chāduì Don't you say you’re sick and need to see the doctor. I'm cutting in line 快來看看我有多麼下賤 kuài lái kàn kàn wǒ yǒu duōme xiàjiàn Come see just how despicable I am 我不是來當偶像給你看的我幹你娘 wǒ bùshì lái dāng ǒuxiàng gěi nǐ kàn de wǒ gàn nǐ niáng I didn't come to be an idol for you to gawk at. I’ll f#ck your mom 我本來不是那種人為什麼要我變慈祥 wǒ běnlái bu shì nà zhǒng rén wéi shén me yào wǒ biàn cíxiáng I'm not that kind of person in the first place, so why should I be nice? 預設立場故事劇情全部的人看你講 yù shè lìchǎng gùshì jùqíng quánbù de rén kàn nǐ jiǎng The people who guess the story’s whole plot watch you speak 演了一部爛片一堆狗屎扶不上泥牆 yǎn le yī bù làn piàn yī duī gǒu shǐ fú bù shàng ní qiáng Acting in a bad movie; a pile of dog sh#t can’t fill the cracks in a wall 這是一場完美的表演看我上吊 zhè shì yīchǎng wánměi de biǎoyǎn kàn wǒ shàngdiào This is the perfect show to watch me hang myself 那些噁心的面孔正在拍手大笑 nàxiē ěxīn de miànkǒng zhèngzài pāishǒu dà xiào Those nauseating faces are applauding and laughing heartily 沒有價值的小丑隨時都能換掉 méiyǒu jiàzhí de xiǎochǒu suíshí dōu néng huàn diào Worthless clowns can all be replaced at any time 在我太陽穴開一槍把我自己掛掉 zài wǒ tàiyángxué kāi yī qiāng bǎ wǒ zìjǐ guà diào I’ll kill myself with one shot to my temple 一切重頭我願還是那顆毒蘋果 yīqiè zhòngtóu wǒ yuàn háishì nà kē dú píngguǒ I still want to be that poison apple 能否再吃下一口四二零誕生的我 néng fǒu zài chī xià yīkǒu sì'èr líng dànshēng de wǒ Take another bite out of me, born April 20th 我站在四度空間角落凝視著你不安的面容 wǒ zhàn zài sì dù kōngjiān jiǎoluò níngshìzhe nǐ bù'ān dì miànróng I stand in the corner of the four dimensions, staring at your uneasy face 午夜後當心我的出沒我是顆迷人的毒蘋果 wǔyè hòu dāngxīn wǒ de chūmò wǒ shì kē mírén de dú píngguǒ After midnight, beware my haunting. I am the bewitching poison apple

Translator’s Notes

Definitely missed some wordplay in here.

牛頓地心引力吸引不了到我 (掉下了腐敗結果) Niúdùn dì xīn yǐnlì xīyǐn bùliǎo dào wǒ (diào xiàle fǔbài jiéguǒ) Newton’s gravity can’t attract me (Rotted results fell off the tree)

This is a pun: the phrase for “results” here also means “bear fruit.” There isn’t any reference to trees in this line. That was added to tie it to Newton’s law of universal gravitation (which he allegedly discovered when an apple fell off of a tree).

白雪公主和那亞當夏娃赤裸裸躺在我的面前下場還是淒涼 báixuě gōngzhǔ hé nà yàdāng xiàwá chìluǒluǒ tǎng zài wǒ de miànqián xiàchǎng háishì qīliáng Snow White and Adam and Eve lie naked before me; the end is still bleak

The phrase used for “the end” also means “exit the stage,” a possible reference to Snow White’s rap monologue later.

你可別說你有病要掛號我要先插隊 nǐ kě bié shuō nǐ yǒu bìng yào guàhào wǒ yào xiān chāduì Don't you say you’re sick and need to see the doctor. I’m cutting in line

“See the doctor” is literally “register [in a hospital],” but I’ve never heard of anyone “registering” for a hospital visit in English unless they’re having a baby. Probably isn’t happening here.

演了一部爛片一堆狗屎扶不上泥牆 yǎn le yī bù làn piàn yī duī gǒu shǐ fú bù shàng ní qiáng Acting in a bad movie; a pile of dog sh#t can’t fill the cracks in a wall

I don’t have any idea what this means.

一切重頭我願還是那顆毒蘋果 yīqiè zhòngtóu wǒ yuàn háishì nà kē dú píngguǒ I still want to be that poison apple

No idea what 一切重頭 is supposed to be. All... important? All... from the beginning? Can’t find consistent info on 重頭, and the characters don’t mean anything that makes sense in context separately.

能否再吃下一口四二零誕生的我 néng fǒu zài chī xià yīkǒu sì'èr líng dànshēng de wǒ Take another bite out of me, born April 20th

Not sure what the significance of April 20th is, but here are a few guesses:

四二零誕生 (”April 20th birthday”) is almost homophonous with 死而另誕生 (loosely “die and reborn”), so the line would then be “Take another bite out of me; [I/you] will die and be reborn.” Appropriately edgy.

四二零 in leetspeak-adjacent number puns also sounds similar to 是愛你 (”Love you”) or 死愛你 (”Love you so much,” but not “love you to death,” because that would be 愛死你). A scandalous last-second love confession?

Take a.. seeeeat Hope you ready for the next episode heeeeeey (Music stops and pauses) Smoke weed everyday

#translation #anyway if neige doesnt get a rap solo by the end of ch5 #im writing a direct complaint to disney hq #lan fanyi

1 note · View note

cooltrainererika · 5 years

Text

Alt-talia Compilation: Bloody

Greetings, everyone. It seems Halloween has ended already... but the event isn’t over yet!

So this is another fic for hetaween; or rather, another compilation! This is for 10/27: Bloody. Now, I thought I could skip that day, because I thought it had to be about Halloween specifically. But it turns out that wasn’t the case. So I’m going to release some here. I was thinking releasing a Hetalia Emblem fic for this prompt… but man there were so many ideas for this one. These aren’t the only ones, even. I’m just posting this now so that I can get it out while I can, with more to be added in reblogs. If I can, I’ll try to do the HE one though.

Since the first story ended up being way longer than expected, I decided to put it at the end, with the shortest fic, a scene I’ve had an idea for a long while that could be considered a companion piece to “Past The Finest Hour” in a way, at the beginning, kind of like animated shorts before an animated movie. There’s also a deleted scene that is actually an alternate version of the main feature, but I couldn’t follow up on it. I might post something using the same basic idea for “Nightmare”, though.

Also, once again, I must reiterate that Alt-talia is generally a more morally grey, dark AU. Also at least a few popular relationship dynamics in canon are absolutely shattered here, so keep that in mind. And the main story references a certain... infamous historical incident. It doesn’t feature it, it just references it, but I warned you. And these will all be referencing some kind of violent incident or time period in history. I just hope I gave them the respect they deserve. And since I can’t think of any era cues, I’ll just state upfront that said fic one takes place in the 60s, after the 1963 Élysée Treaty specifically; eventually, I’ve managed to narrow it down to not long after said treaty, probably 1963 - 1965. Also, I tried making the characters speak in an accent, but since they have border languages that are similar, they’re speaking that here instead. Also accents might cause Narm.

Note: I use a word that is often classified as a slur here. However, I feel that it’s appropriate to the era.

So, without further ado...

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

(Also… people who read my fics, please reblog? I’ve spent so much time on them, I want more people to see them.)

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Keep Calm

The Battle of Britain had been raging for days; and Canada was growing worried.

The bombing had just begun and it was bad; quite bad. He had finished ushering another contingent of civilians into bunkers and tunnels, following the signs that now covered the city, hopefully safe from the fire and fury that rained upon what used to be their homes.

“Ah, Canada-“

And there his father was.

His head, a good part of of his face, and neck covered in blood.

Matthew just barely held back a scream.

“Father, your head is covered in blood, can you not see that?! Please take it easy!”

“Ah, this?” He was terribly serene, but that was punctuated with a cough.

“Terribly irritating, I must say-“ more hacking coughs “-Jerry, that nuisance. The blood is stinging my eyes-“

And with a painful-sounding cough, he coughed blood.

Canada’s face paled as it stained his uniform.

“GOOD GOD! ...Sorry at the outburst, but how can you call that ‘terribly irritating’?!”

The Blitz had indeed been affecting him; however, his face, as usual, was calm, as if he had a somewhat annoying cold.

More bombs fell, and again he coughed red, making Canada flinch.

He had never seen his father this hurt; the cliffs of Dover had protected him since the time of the Norman Conquest, and he probably hadn’t experienced this much damage, especially in his capital city, in that long a time.

But yet…

“A mere few square kilometers destroyed, is all…”

“MERE?!”

“We are nations, Canada. And can you not shout? I’m quite fine, thank you.”

He took off his scarf, compressing his wound.

“I shall get back in the air in two hours now. You need to take flight soon too, lad. Chop-chop.”

Matthew, the personification of the Dominion of Canada, sighed loudly.

“I’m not a ‘lad’ anymore father.”

His father chuckled.

“You are finally growing up, Canada.”

Even after all these centuries, his father’s ability to seemingly be unfettered by anything always never ceased to surprise him.

“I could use an ale now, however.”

“Father! Please!”

As he had been outside, guiding the citizens to their bunkers, many had been just like him.

Maybe, the best way to spite the enemy was this after all; to show that you wouldn’t be affected by their attempts, that no matter what, they would always remain as they always had been.

After all, his father hadn’t become the largest empire the world had ever seen for no reason.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Unbreakable

Byelorussia bled.

With every Nazi her ragtag group of partisans killed, intentionally or not, her flesh tore and burned, and her mouth tasted of choking, suffocating liquid iron.

If she were human, she would have probably died from pain alone long ago.

She was able to cover most of them by now before the others noticed, and it helped that her old, worn uniform was becoming more and more loose-fitting as her emaciated body grew thinner by the day. But the others surely knew something was wrong. Her headscarf had become torn from use as bandages, and she couldn’t afford to use much of their already limited resources.

Unbeknownst to them, some of that blood belonged to their families, friends, and neighbors.

She knew what they were trying to do. Many of the partisans urged her to take a rest, at the very least; but her usefulness to the group never faded, much to their confusion. But her nation status, unbeknownst to them, gave her the ability to make them easily dismiss strange idiosyncrasies of her existence.

However, she was only even able to walk by sheer force of will. They had started changing their tactics; less Nazis killed, in favor of other methods of sabotage, made the massacres less frequent. Her swamps and forests slowed them down already, and she gained great satisfaction in knowing the anguish and annoyance she caused Germany and his allies. Though occasionally she pitied the clearly inadequately equipped ones, sometimes barely better than they were; usually Italians.

Germany’s leaders had apparently told him she was more harmless than her siblings, easily subjugated; a worthy slave. Judging by their obsession with furthering their “Aryan Race”, and being a rare female nation, she sometimes shivered at the implication of that; they already treated her as less than human when they caught her and sent her to work, though so far they hadn’t done anything of that sort to her... yet. The fact that they took infants they deemed “Aryan” enough was even stronger evidence to it. But by now, they surely knew she was more than merely Lithuania’s wife waiting for his return from battle at home, cooking and praying for him, even all those centuries ago. She did not know exactly why, but she had to survive. She would not die here.

She was a nation after all. Or at least, she believed she was.

She couldn’t be sure about her future; by the time the war was over, it was almost guaranteed she would once again be taken into the Soviet Union, an easy picking, too weak to fight back, into the strangling clutches of Stalin. Even now, most of the partisan groups she had found herself in were Red Army detachments, and as much as she hated admitting it, without them she would be almost completely at the Reich’s mercy by now, constantly under his jackboot. Or worse.

However, that didn’t matter now. All that mattered was getting through today. And then, the war. And she was going to see the end of it, even if it meant dragging herself there.

She looked over their supply; due to lack of resources, Petrol Bombs - or Molotov Cocktails, as Finland, their inventor, spitefully called them - had proved to be a boon to them.

Soon, an important convoy would be passing through; that would be their chance to strike.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Now, for the main feature...

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

An Uneasy Forgiveness

Blood.

West Germany’s hands dripped with red.

His lungs felt like they were on fire from the hyperventilation, his heart raced, his vision blurred.

Now, he scrubbed his hands under the cold water, raising the intensity and rubbing the soap onto his hand again, the water glugging into the basin.

“Verdammt, verdammt, verdammt!”

Tears pricked his eyes as the man continued to try in vain to get the dreadful liquid off his hands.

Simple tears became sobs as he rubbed his hands raw.

On his hands was the blood of every Jew, every Pole, every Russian, Belarusian, Ukrainian, every Gypsy, every homosexual, every so-called “traitor”, everyone else he had determined as “less than human” he had destroyed the lives of.

“Verdammt, Verdammt, VERDAMMT!”

But yet, it wasn’t something he could wash away.

“Hé! What are you doing this early, I can hear you all the way from-“

Germany didn’t notice that the other occupant of this place had woken up and spotted him, until in the mirror, he saw him.

He froze, his red, puffy eyes meeting with the other nation’s.

France.

Germany’s eyes widened, unable to move, hyperventilating, shaking like a leaf, as he attempted to speak, but all that his throat produced were pathetic whines.

He felt his cold stare on him.

“What are you doing?”

“Frankreich... the blood, it won’t...”

His voice cracked, but he didn’t care.

But he didn’t notice the concern growing across France’s face, despite himself. He saw no blood; though he wouldn’t have been surprised if they indeed started bleeding from how frighteningly red and chapped they had become.

“It won’t...”

And he saw so much... vulnerability in the young man’s swollen eyes, his tear stained face, his disheveled hair, his youth making itself painfully apparent.

“Blood?! I don’t see any blood! What’s your deal, brat?”

“Frankreich... please...”

Germany felt the water shut off.

“Stop.”

“But...”

His normally deep voice sounded so meek and frail. Despite him being slightly taller than him, the younger man might as well have become a child again in front of him. No... if this were Germany as a child, he would have probably reveled in making the little hellspawn cry harder. At the time at least.

He avoided France’s gaze, afraid to even look him in the eye.

“I... I’m sorry for waking you. I...I’m s-sorry that you had to stay with me... I... I know you hate me... I know I can’t just sign away what I’ve done to you...”

Germany knew that France wasn’t here because he enjoyed his company. He had made a point and show out of demanding he get a separate bedroom. He knew full well that even within the ECSC, everyone only cooperated with him because they were even more tired of war more than they hated him. Belgium was the only one who reached out to him; he didn’t know why, after what he had done to her in both wars, but it was most likely just realpolitik. He knew, under her meek demeanor, she most likely still despised him. The rest, the Netherlands, Luxembourg, Italy, and yes, France, all of them, made no such gestures. He felt it every time they met; how Luxembourg “accidentally” blew smoke in his face, how the Netherlands spat at him as he spoke if he didn’t outright berate him, how Italy refused to look at him as he toiled on the assembly lines.

And how when they shook hands that fateful day, where they officially buried the hatchet, France’s arm seemed oh so rigid, his smile forced.

Of course they did.

After all, it was their blood on his hands too.

He crumpled to his knees, sobbing. His younger self would have probably been disgusted at how he looked now, on his knees at the feet of his former archenemy. But that didn’t matter anymore. His pride didn’t matter anymore.

France was speechless.

It was so very bizarre. Not only was this type of behavior almost unthinkable for a nation, especially for such a man as Germany, but not long ago, France would have been euphoric to witness the sight of his most hated rival pitifully crumpled on the ground in front of him, vulnerable, broken, pathetic. From the day this brat was born, he had resented him. Him and his emotionally stunted, cold-hearted, warmongering father both. His very birth had been possible because of him being humiliated, his capital starved and besieged. He would have probably kicked him in the gut and laughed, spat at him, or at least taunted him.

And to be sure, he still felt some of that.

But, like when he met him in Berlin after he surrendered, another emotion gnawed at him from inside.

Pity.

Then, sympathy.

This wasn’t the genocidal, wrathful, goose-stepping Germany who had proclaimed his people superior above all else. It was the starving, weak, scared Germany he, America, and England had delivered bread to in that Airlift over a decade ago.

He wasn’t his father. He wasn’t Prussia.

And he had come here for a reason. He might as well do what he came here for.

“Get up.”

Germany, still quivering, looked up at him.

France made his way to the door of the bathroom.

“I said, get up. I thought you were good at taking orders? Or are you trying to be an annoying brat?”

He might as well try. It wasn’t like he wasn’t guilty of anything anyway.

And after some hesitation, Germany followed.

——-

Germany laid on his bed, letting the soft pillows absorb his tears. He had calmed down somewhat, or at least to the point where he could speak coherently.

“Mind if I borrow your smokes and lighter?”

No reply.

“Then. I might as well.”

On the nightstand was a pack of HBs. They were no Gauloises, but they would have to do.

He took out a cigarette as the younger nation began to speak again.

“I didn’t want to believe it at first. I think my mind repressed it. But... I can’t run from the truth anymore. I just don’t know what to do. What... what can even be done after something so terrible? That awful man manipulated me. But... ultimately, I fell for his words. I was naïve. We all were. Ultimately, it was our fault...”

France, his back leaning lazily against the bedframe, lit a cigarette.

Germany squeezed the sheets in his fists.

“You hate me, don’t you?”

France took a puff; he grumbled a bit about the weak taste and aroma. A few moments passed as the smoke rose.

“Maybe.”

“...”

“But I signed that Friendship Treaty. We shook hands. We officially agreed that our past was behind us. I was sent here to spend a few days with you so we could learn to get along, and I agreed to it. I could’ve followed President De Gaulle’s orders - he’s a good man, that De Gaulle - but for once, I didn’t. I might as well try to start doing what I’m supposed to.”

Germany looked at him, his cornflower blue eyes still wet, but no longer leaking new tears. He was, once again, silent.

“...Besides.”

He took another puff, the smoke dissipating in the air.

The prisoner laid at his feet, cursing him out in his Arabic dialect on the floor of the dark, cold cell, bloody coughs staining his combat boots between pained shouts, hatred-soaked shouts that Allah would damn him to hell.

He clenched his eyes and rammed his boot into the colony’s stomach again.

“...The truth is, I have to deal with you, no matter what. You’re my neighbor. And we’re nations. We stick together when it’s best for our interests, and we fight when it’s best for our interests. Pretty sure you know this well; your father knew this better than anyone else. And now, trying to be your ally is probably in my best interest, though not so sure about ‘friend’. But who knows. And we want it to stay that way. Might as well try not to fight it.”

He put the cigarette out, the cigarette making a quiet “pssshhh...” sound as it was pressed against the ashtray.

“I’ll try to forgive you. Can’t guarantee for the others though. Though I don’t think I’m the most important one you should be apologizing to for your latest fuck up. I wouldn’t be surprised if Israel and Poland never completely forgive you. Maybe not even in a thousand years. But know that... I’ll at least try to start over. We need to go about this together, whether I like it or not. Might as well try to help show you a different life than what daddy Preußen taught you.”

Germany’s voice hitched again. It was clear he hadn’t made his mind up about his father yet. Understandable. And France wasn’t one to talk about parenting either.

“Thank you... really...”

Now it was France’s turn to remain quiet, as he let the younger one speak.

“When I was little, I remember vater told me that my future and survival wouldn’t be decided by speeches and majority decisions, but by iron and blood. He was quoting Chancellor Bismarck, I believe. Hopefully... I won’t need that advice anymore, from now on.”

“I see, you’re pretty good at this too.”

France lit up another cigarette.

“But if you do anything silly again, remember I’m the one with the nuke.”

“Jawo... Ja.”

“Good. We could go for a smoke later. You probably need one. But I’ll be going back to bed-“

“Don’t leave. Please.”

The older man sighed.

“Fine, you damn brat.”

Their eyes met.

“...Are we friends?”

“...Hopefully. Now, stop acting like that. It’s jarring. You need rest.”

A pause.

“…But if you need a smoke now, I’ll light it for you.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Deleted scene

The metallic, gruesome stench of blood surrounded Germany.

Nothing, nothing but darkness and blood. He gasped for air, his feet kicking in the thick, vile liquid searching for a floor that wasn’t there.

Eventually, the blood became hotter and hotter, first merely a singing heat, then searing, blistering, until the unbearable, tortuous heat pierced its way to his bones, boiling his flesh, only his struggles to keep his head above the surface keeping him from screaming in agony.

“Hilfe! Hilfe!”

He managed to choke out, before the scalding liquid spilled into his lungs.

Finally, with that, he sunk.

Deeper and deeper, he sank, the agonizing pain never stopping.

As he sank, he thought he saw many shadows, of all sexes, ages, and sizes, staring at him solemnly, quietly.

Among them, he thought he saw the rest of the ECSC, Russia and Poland, watching his descent with what must have been contempt.

It was then everything became cold as death.

————-

(Explanation: the deleted scene was a reference to Dante’s Inferno; according to Dante, in the 7th circle of Hell is the realm of the violent, where souls are immersed in a boiling river of blood. However, it was maybe a bit odd I was using an Italian story for Germany)

Characterization notes: England is the epitome of Stiff Upper Lip in at least this time period in Alt-Talia; he isn’t quite a tsundere, to say the least. He’d be classified more as a kuudere perhaps, but not quite due to the whole British politeness thing.

Belarus is a big one; as readers who’ve read my other fic know, I write Belarus quite different than from canon. She’s probably one of the most human-like, in that her wish is to live a peaceful existence, not power or prestige, and unlike in canon she comes off more as a victim of circumstance than an instigator. While other nations would be motivated by a lot of nationalism, here she just wants to survive first and foremost. She’s generally quiet, even well-mannered, and excluding the Jews and Roma was hurt the most in WWII in terms of proportion of population; estimates of Belarusian deaths go as high as a quarter of the population, and including deportations and displacement the number can go as high as half (!). I like writing her because she just comes across as a woman with a tough life who just gets the crap beaten out of her for no fault of her own except geography. But when driven into a corner even she will be willing to bite back, if just for her people.

#hetaween #hetaween 19/20 #alt-talia #historical hetalia #hws england #aph england #hws canada #aph canada #hws belarus #aph belarus #hws germany #aph germany #hws france #aph france #tw genocide mention #bringbackhetalia2k19

24 notes · View notes