Happy--prince - Oh My. Is It Tea Time? - Tumblr Blog

Oscar allowed Fyodor to enter first; holding the door open for him before slipping inside.

Oscar was at a museum, he needed something to ease his mind and looking through art seemed like the closest thing to comfort he could find. That was until he noticed a certain painting.

The fallen angel by Cabanel.

He looked at it almost mesmerized, lost in thought as he looked at the careful brush strokes and colors.

Fyodor approached the painting, his hands behind his back.

"Quite interesting, hm? Almost poetic.."

“That is true.” he let out a quiet yet dry chuckle. “Sometimes even the smallest things can bring forward nostalgia...”

Oscar was at a museum, he needed something to ease his mind and looking through art seemed like the closest thing to comfort he could find. That was until he noticed a certain painting.

The fallen angel by Cabanel.

He looked at it almost mesmerized, lost in thought as he looked at the careful brush strokes and colors.

Fyodor approached the painting, his hands behind his back.

"Quite interesting, hm? Almost poetic.."

“You certainly should. She should probably be able to follow conversations better by this point and make more...shall I say, more complex sentences.”

“Ah, you must be Oscar.. the one whom Fedya has been talking about.. it’s nice to meet the person my brother seems so.. interested in.”

-@28-reasons-to-run

(going with the meeting idea because idk how else they would meet)

“And you must be Vera. It is a pleasure to finally be your acquaintance.”

“Mint? Good taste dear.” he paused before continuing. “I quite like earl grey tea..”

He gave a small smile towards him: “....You remind me of someone I know. though I suppose it is an explanation for another time.“

Oscar was at a museum, he needed something to ease his mind and looking through art seemed like the closest thing to comfort he could find. That was until he noticed a certain painting.

The fallen angel by Cabanel.

He looked at it almost mesmerized, lost in thought as he looked at the careful brush strokes and colors.

Fyodor approached the painting, his hands behind his back.

"Quite interesting, hm? Almost poetic.."

Oscar followed after him, before deciding to start small talk.

“Hm... what is your favourite type of tea, dear? I am curious.”

Oscar was at a museum, he needed something to ease his mind and looking through art seemed like the closest thing to comfort he could find. That was until he noticed a certain painting.

The fallen angel by Cabanel.

He looked at it almost mesmerized, lost in thought as he looked at the careful brush strokes and colors.

Fyodor approached the painting, his hands behind his back.

"Quite interesting, hm? Almost poetic.."

“I am quite free right now, tea sounds most wonderful.”

Oscar was at a museum, he needed something to ease his mind and looking through art seemed like the closest thing to comfort he could find. That was until he noticed a certain painting.

The fallen angel by Cabanel.

He looked at it almost mesmerized, lost in thought as he looked at the careful brush strokes and colors.

Fyodor approached the painting, his hands behind his back.

"Quite interesting, hm? Almost poetic.."

“Thank you; dear.” a smile escaped his lips at the praise, he smiled softly at the man.

Oscar was at a museum, he needed something to ease his mind and looking through art seemed like the closest thing to comfort he could find. That was until he noticed a certain painting.

The fallen angel by Cabanel.

He looked at it almost mesmerized, lost in thought as he looked at the careful brush strokes and colors.

Fyodor approached the painting, his hands behind his back.

"Quite interesting, hm? Almost poetic.."

“It is tough not to feel fond of her, even her scheming can be considered something charming about her.” he chuckled, the sound fond and affectionate. “She definitely is rather secretive about her intentions and plans, however..”

Oscar was at a museum, he needed something to ease his mind and looking through art seemed like the closest thing to comfort he could find. That was until he noticed a certain painting.

The fallen angel by Cabanel.

He looked at it almost mesmerized, lost in thought as he looked at the careful brush strokes and colors.

Fyodor approached the painting, his hands behind his back.

"Quite interesting, hm? Almost poetic.."

“You know how dear Agatha is like, she always has a scheme in her mind. Asking her to behave, even temporarily is against her nature.” he chuckled fondly as he talked about the dame.

Oscar was at a museum, he needed something to ease his mind and looking through art seemed like the closest thing to comfort he could find. That was until he noticed a certain painting.

The fallen angel by Cabanel.

He looked at it almost mesmerized, lost in thought as he looked at the careful brush strokes and colors.

Fyodor approached the painting, his hands behind his back.

"Quite interesting, hm? Almost poetic.."

“...It is weird then that she isn't able to follow our conversation, then” he gave a dry smile to Vera, slightly tilting his head. “Maybe you should find her a new tutor.”

“Ah, you must be Oscar.. the one whom Fedya has been talking about.. it’s nice to meet the person my brother seems so.. interested in.”

-@28-reasons-to-run

(going with the meeting idea because idk how else they would meet)

“And you must be Vera. It is a pleasure to finally be your acquaintance.”

“Mhm..yet,an incredibly beautiful painting at the same time.”

Oscar was at a museum, he needed something to ease his mind and looking through art seemed like the closest thing to comfort he could find. That was until he noticed a certain painting.

The fallen angel by Cabanel.

He looked at it almost mesmerized, lost in thought as he looked at the careful brush strokes and colors.

Fyodor approached the painting, his hands behind his back.

"Quite interesting, hm? Almost poetic.."

Please do not send me asks for donations

Here's why:

I have NO money to give you

I'm not a popular enough blog that I will give you any reach

I am a minor, and most of my followers are too

It makes me feel extremely guilty

Seeing pictures of injuries or hospitals etc are triggering for me (which are in most intro posts for this sort of thing)

They are always worded in a way that makes me feel like I am a murderer if I don't donate

It makes me feel uncomfortable

I said I don't want them, and my boundaries should be respected

I can't tell what is a bot and what isn't

I get a lot of spam from this. It is disappointing to see 10 new asks in my inbox just to be the same ask for donations over and over

Please, just respect the fact that I have said this.

“Why, thank you.” He chuckled softly. His green eyes lost in thought as he glanced at the painting once again. “..I remember I always wanted to see it in person, somehow it is..even more...haunting to see it in person.”

Oscar was at a museum, he needed something to ease his mind and looking through art seemed like the closest thing to comfort he could find. That was until he noticed a certain painting.

The fallen angel by Cabanel.

He looked at it almost mesmerized, lost in thought as he looked at the careful brush strokes and colors.

Fyodor approached the painting, his hands behind his back.

"Quite interesting, hm? Almost poetic.."

“...I promise that your...request will be honored. Worry not.” He glanced at Katya, humming softly. “....How old is she? And for how long has she been learning English?”

“Ah, you must be Oscar.. the one whom Fedya has been talking about.. it’s nice to meet the person my brother seems so.. interested in.”

-@28-reasons-to-run

(going with the meeting idea because idk how else they would meet)

“And you must be Vera. It is a pleasure to finally be your acquaintance.”

“It doesn't surprise me you heard of me before..” He let out a soft chuckle. “I work in the Order.”

Oscar was at a museum, he needed something to ease his mind and looking through art seemed like the closest thing to comfort he could find. That was until he noticed a certain painting.

The fallen angel by Cabanel.

He looked at it almost mesmerized, lost in thought as he looked at the careful brush strokes and colors.

Fyodor approached the painting, his hands behind his back.

"Quite interesting, hm? Almost poetic.."

“Oscar Wilde, pleasure to meet you Mr. Dostoevsky.” He shook his hand gracefully, giving a polite smile to the man.

Oscar was at a museum, he needed something to ease his mind and looking through art seemed like the closest thing to comfort he could find. That was until he noticed a certain painting.

The fallen angel by Cabanel.

He looked at it almost mesmerized, lost in thought as he looked at the careful brush strokes and colors.

Fyodor approached the painting, his hands behind his back.

"Quite interesting, hm? Almost poetic.."

“It depends on what you may ask. I am sure I can talk Dame Christie into agreeing to your terms, as long as they are...reasonable, of course.”

“Ah, you must be Oscar.. the one whom Fedya has been talking about.. it’s nice to meet the person my brother seems so.. interested in.”

-@28-reasons-to-run

(going with the meeting idea because idk how else they would meet)

“And you must be Vera. It is a pleasure to finally be your acquaintance.”

“I suppose a little, I've always had a little bit of a rebellious streak on me.” He glanced at him, slightly tilting his head. “Though of course, not to this level..”

Oscar was at a museum, he needed something to ease his mind and looking through art seemed like the closest thing to comfort he could find. That was until he noticed a certain painting.

The fallen angel by Cabanel.

He looked at it almost mesmerized, lost in thought as he looked at the careful brush strokes and colors.

Fyodor approached the painting, his hands behind his back.

"Quite interesting, hm? Almost poetic.."

“Mhm..there is almost a look of betrayal in his eyes, wouldn't you agree? A look of pure pain and anguish, showing how aware he is of what fate awaits him..though, I suppose it isn't surprising this painting awakens this certain level of pity and sympathy considering it is based out of Paradise Lost.”

Oscar was at a museum, he needed something to ease his mind and looking through art seemed like the closest thing to comfort he could find. That was until he noticed a certain painting.

The fallen angel by Cabanel.

He looked at it almost mesmerized, lost in thought as he looked at the careful brush strokes and colors.

Fyodor approached the painting, his hands behind his back.

"Quite interesting, hm? Almost poetic.."

“That is true. Yet... A small part of me can't help but feel sympathetic. Perhaps pity would be a better word for what I feel.” He let out a quiet chuckle. “...He is doomed from this point forward, no choice but to keep following that path.”

Oscar was at a museum, he needed something to ease his mind and looking through art seemed like the closest thing to comfort he could find. That was until he noticed a certain painting.

The fallen angel by Cabanel.

He looked at it almost mesmerized, lost in thought as he looked at the careful brush strokes and colors.

Fyodor approached the painting, his hands behind his back.

"Quite interesting, hm? Almost poetic.."

“Agreed. Quite a tragic painting too, wouldn't you agree?” he hummed, his hands behind his back as he glanced at it. “..His wings are broken; symbolizing the loss of his power, his gaze is filled with anguish and anger at his punishment.”

He paused before continuing. “..Perhaps it is tragic in a way because the angel here still hasn't become the embodiment of sin he became more known as.”

Oscar was at a museum, he needed something to ease his mind and looking through art seemed like the closest thing to comfort he could find. That was until he noticed a certain painting.

The fallen angel by Cabanel.

He looked at it almost mesmerized, lost in thought as he looked at the careful brush strokes and colors.

Fyodor approached the painting, his hands behind his back.

"Quite interesting, hm? Almost poetic.."

“...I know that things probably won't end well if we keep talking...” he paused, before giving a bitter yet fond smile. “...We really are no good for each other, hm?”

“Hey Fedya..good morning.” he spoke in a quiet tone, he seemed almost hesitant to touch him, yet he sat next to him.

Hm...?

Fyodor didn't open his eyes.

Oscar blinked, slightly stunned at being pulled into the bed before reaching a hand up, starting to thread his fingers through his hair.

“Hey Fedya..good morning.” he spoke in a quiet tone, he seemed almost hesitant to touch him, yet he sat next to him.

Hm...?

Fyodor didn't open his eyes.

Oscar quietly stroked his cheek, the gesture gentle and affectionate before letting out a soft chuckle at his comment.

“Yeah I don't find it that surprising...”

“Hey Fedya..good morning.” he spoke in a quiet tone, he seemed almost hesitant to touch him, yet he sat next to him.

Hm...?

Fyodor didn't open his eyes.