Xương.

"Don't u dare let our best memories bring u sorow?"

[thexfridax]

Master list: Translated interviews / articles / Q&As with Céline Sciamma, Adèle Haenel, Noémie Merlant (and others)

Last updated: 18 June 2021

—

Created on 3rd of August 2020 (and updated hereafter as much as possible, but you know how it is 😅; the Excel file with all of the below is saved here for the time being.)

This is a master list gathering various interviews etc. with Céline, Adèle and Noémie (and others that were interviewed together with them, or in relation to them and their work), translated by @mlleclaudine​, @ladyonfire28​ and moi (@thexfridax​). I would like to thank and applaud Claudine and Aimée for your massive contribution to the Portrait fandom.

There are so many more of you (@pensoakspaper​, @unfumble​​, @morningmightcomebyaccident​, @hedawolf​, @empressofkalumina​, @bereaving​​, @tenemos-que-hablar​​, @rosedelosvientos​ … to name a few) who keep the fire and conversation around Portrait and C/A/N alive by creating art and content – merci, this is also for you!

@justanotheruntitled04 created a master list of videos/audios with any of the three of them here. More Youtube translations can be found here: @akaiimee​.

Aimée’s amazing POALOF DVD commentary master post can be found here. [C’est fini 😥]

***UPDATES***

If you want to find out more about Adèle’s theatre work, check this out.

POALOF podcasts made by @podcastofaladyonfire can be found here.

@scorpio-sky has created a DVDography of Adèle’s work, it’s here.

An inofficial fan-made transcript (French plus English stage direction) of POALOF can be found here, a collaboration 😍 between @pensoakspaper, @mlleclaudine, @ladyonfire28 and @morningmightcomebyaccident.

@page28club provided English subs for Adèle’s anti-racist transfeminist roundtable [troll alert during the Q&As 😡] and Boomerang interview [Césars, Les héros ne meurent jamais, Le Corps Lesbien].

Folks, we have the unofficial English translation of the French POALOF screenplay (Plain Archive) HERE, brought to you by yours truly @mlleclaudine, with support from @tonovember, @morningmightcomebyaccident, @ladyonfire28 and @hedawolf among others.

#MeToo in France: Interview with Marine Turchi (Nov 2020), Mediapart article about Adèle Haenel’s case (paywall; Nov 2019), Mediapart interview with Adèle Haenel (Nov 2019). 💔

@ladyonfire28​ wrote her first piece about cinema, choosing Céline Sciamma’s debut film Water Lilies, see here in French or in English.

A CALL FOR SUBMISSION for Portrait fanart can be found here. A joint initiative by @empressofkalumina, @mlleclaudine​, @rosedelosvientos and @thexfridax. 🖼️👻🔥

Interview with Céline Sciamma on ‘Coming of Age, in Life and Film’ (Berlinale Talents, March 2021) via @celinesfiamma​

L’Étang review in the NY Times (May 2021)

L’Étang recap by yours truly, @thexfridax​ (June 2021)

I’m happy to add anyone else to this list, too! The more the merrier. 😉

Photo by Foc Kan/WireImage

***

Somewhat ordered by year of publication and C/A/N/others (as of 3rd of Aug 2020: 78 151 ✨; any further updates will be put at the bottom of each year to make my life easier):

2021

Director Sciamma ‘It’s a dance with ghosts’

“On est du côté des enfants, de leur regard sur leurs parents”: Céline Sciamma à propos de son nouveau film, “Petite Maman”

Review(s) on Pétite Maman: [1]

Céline Sciamma : «S’engager rend toujours vulnérable»

Céline Sciamma, réalisatrice de “Petite Maman”: “Sur le tournage, je me demandais, que ferait Miyazaki ?”

Céline Sciamma: “’Petite Maman’” est le parfait film post-pandémie“

«L’expérience offerte par une œuvre d’art devrait être centrale»

Reviews on L’Étang [@Vidy-Lausanne]: [1], [2], [3]

Noémie Merlant : ”L'expérience de la salle de cinéma manque terriblement“

2020

CÉLINE SCIAMMA : «DiCaprio est une icône lesbienne. »

Céline Sciamma: inventer une femme pour les raconter toutes

Aïssa Maïga and Adèle Haenel : «Finally there’s something political happening»

Noémie Merlant, l'actrice qui dévergonde le cinéma français, se confie

Noémie Merlant (JUMBO) : "Si je ne fais rien, il faut que je sois dans l'eau”

The making of Shakira with Noémie Merlant

Noémie talks about Jumbo in L’instant cinéma

JUMBO, NOEMIE MERLANT

A Good Man Behind the Scenes

Rising star Noémie Merlant: ‘Being a model is terrible. It shouldn’t exist’

Noémie Merlant: «Quand ça dérange, ça titille des choses importantes et utiles»

Noémie Merlant: “I remember very well the pride I felt on the red carpet.”

Noémie Merlant, in the light

*Noémie Merlant talks about the César*

“The double life of Noémie Merlant”

Jumbo - Interview de Noémie Merlant & Zoé Wittock

Rencontre avec Zoé Wittock et Noémie Merlant sur le film “Jumbo”

Zoé Wittock & Noémie Merlant: Jumbo Instagram Live 28 March 2020

Rencontres confinées : Claire Mathon à propos du film Portrait de la jeune fille en feu - 29 avril

From mourning to resilience, Gisèle Vienne discusses her next creation with Adèle Haenel

***UPDATES below***

Céline Sciamma & Annie Ernaux: Sœurs de Combat

Céline Sciamma

Translated interview with Adèle Haenel, heroine of “Portrait of a Lady on Fire”; Translated excerpt from ’“Portrait of a Lady on Fire” - Approaching the True Face* of Adèle Haenel’ [2 in 1]

Haenel gets up and gets out

#4 Adèle Haenel

“Not correctness, but towards raising questions”: the gaze of actress Adèle Haenel

“The experience of being alive is not the priority of the government”. Conversation with Gisèle Vienne, Adèle Haenel & Ruth Vega Fernandez

Adèle Haenel

Interview d'Adèle Haenel et Noémie Merlant pour la sortie Portrait de la jeune fille en feu au Royaume-Uni [1, autotranslated]; [2]

Fashion and cinema interview with Noémie Merlant, star of French cinema at the Deauville Film Festival

Rencontre avec Luàna Bajrami, étoile montante

2019

‘We started a culture war‘

Céline Sciamma • Réalisatrice de Portrait de la jeune fille en feu

Céline Sciamma: «Il y a eu un sacrifice de lesbiennes dans toute l'histoire du cinéma»

«Portrait de la jeune fille en feu» : entretien avec Céline Sciamma [1]; Portrait of a Lady on Fire: An Interview With Céline Sciamma [2]

Entretien avec Céline Sciamma : « Je veux juste qu’on arrête d’opposer le point de vue féminin au point de vue universel. »

Céline Sciamma, en feu et en flammes

Céline Sciamma, la femme qui filmait les femmes

Céline Sciamma: «Portrait de la jeune fille en feu» est un film totalement dédié à l’amour»

“Portrait de la jeune fille en feu” : Céline Sciamma et Adèle Haenel s'embrasent

“Portrait de la jeune fille en feu” : rencontre au Méliès de Montreuil

«Je ne viens pas pour servir la soupe» : entretien avec Adèle Haenel

Viennale Star Adèle Haenel: ‘Equality is sexy’

A new politics of love - An interview with Adèle Haenel on 'Portrait of a Lady on Fire’

Adèle Haenel: Figurehead of the new French Film

Adèle Haenel: 'Sex in cinema is usually quite pathetic’

Adèle Haenel (German interview)

Adèle Haenel en rediffusion et Pomme en déconfinement

Exclusive interview with Noémie Merlant and Adèle Haenel, lead actresses in ‘Portrait of a Lady on Fire’

Entretien avec Adèle Haenel et Noémie Merlant

Interview Noémie Merlant et Adèle Haenel : «En tant que comédienne, en tant que femme, il y a beaucoup d’échos.»

Dance of the gazes and female desire  

[PORTRAIT] Noémie Merlant : «J’ai progressivement essayé de choisir des rôles féminins qui ont du sens »

Festival de Cannes 2019 : Noémie Merlant, «Quand je m’éteins, je vais voir un film et je re-rêve »

France tv & vous / République, le film interactif avec France.tv lab [Noémie Merlant, Lyna Khoudri]

Rencontre avec Hélène Delmaire, la peintre lilloise du film « Portrait de la jeune fille en feu »

Christel Baras, la directrice de casting qui a découvert Adèle Haenel à 11 ans

***UPDATES below***

Culture : Feux croisés entre Céline Sciamma et Monica Sabolo

Rencontre Céline Sciamma: “Il faut créer les conditions de sa liberté”

Céline Sciamma : «Je voulais faire un voyage dans l’histoire de l’art d’un point de vue féminin»

The female gaze: An interview with Céline Sciamma; Interview with director Céline Sciamma; Sciamma: ‘I want to show images of daily life that are missing’ [3 articles in 1]

Interview : Céline Sciamma «Ils ne savent pas voler, elles, elles savent.»

Love and let love

Céline Sciamma: ‘I love films that hate me!’

Director Céline Sciamma: ‘I try to create new forms of eroticism’

Forgotten women

‘I am a film activist’ - Interview with Céline Sciamma

Adèle Haenel : «Le respect pousse à s’investir»

Rencontre avec Adèle Haenel, à l'affiche de trois films à Cannes

Actress Adèle Haenel: The French Revolutionary

2018

Adèle Haenel, le jeu sacré

Adèle Haenel : «Il y a toujours matière à rire de soi »

***UPDATES below***

Adèle Haenel : “J’ai grandi avec La Cité de la peur et Les Trois Frères”

Adèle Haenel: «Je fais souvent les choses à l’envers»

2017

Entretien avec Adèle Haenel – Sophie dans 120 battements par minute

No, I’m not made of sugar: Shooting star Adèle Haenel

Génération Slimani

Adèle Haenel et Adèle Exarchopoulos : Orpheline

Adèle Haenel in an interview for 120BPM

***UPDATES below***

Screenplay writer Céline Sciamma: The women behind the big emotions

Un fantôme que l’on décrit avec complaisance est un fantôme qui cesse d’agir 👻

Adèle Haenel. L’émotion brute

‘I have ten years, then I become part of the system’

“120 BPM” à TÊTU : Les acteurs nous ont confié les secrets du tournage

Adèle Haenel in 2017 [3 articles merged]

Quand Adèle (Haenel) rencontre Adèle (Exarchopoulos)

Noémie Merlant & Naomi Amarger: ‘Heaven will wait’

2016

Translated interview with Adèle Haenel [and others] on ‘The Bloom of Yesterday’

Adèle Haenel, l'insaisissable

Le Grand Journal du 23/03 avec Wassim Nasr, Stéphane Gatignon, Adèle Haenel et Marianne Denicourt - CANAL +

MASTERCLASS du 6 oct 2016 - La Fille Inconnue

Dans la tête de Adèle Haenel

Noémie Merlant dans «Le Ciel Attendra »

Chris Kraus about Adèle »Machine Gun« Haenel

***UPDATES below***

André Téchiné et Céline Sciamma: entretien croisé autour de Quand on a 17 ans

Interview : Céline Sciamma

Adèle Haenel, géante dans Les Ogres

Interview with Adèle Haenel about ‘The Unknown Girl’

Les Ogres. Adèle Haenel: “Ne valorisons pas trop la souffrance”

Adèle Haenel: “Je ne veux pas me résoudre au cynisme”

Adèle Haenel: “And the fight against racism, is that a black thing?”

Adèle Haenel : «La plus grande force de l’homme, c’est le pardon»

Adèle Haenel : “Dire ‘Allez vous faire foutre !’, c'est un peu mon moteur” [Télérama; long version]

Adèle Haenel, comédienne : “Le cinéma blanc et masculin, j'en ai marre” [Télérama; short version]

Noémie Merlant, talent brut

2015

‘Being young means: To refuse’

Une apparition de cinéma [!!!]

Brouiller les pistes [!!!]

Les grandes actrices sont des femmes intelligentes

Une minute sans cligner des yeux

On va te manger

***UPDATES below*** 

Adèle Haenel, la belle dégenrée 😱

2014

Filming of ‘Girlhood‘

‘Girlhood’ - A meeting with Céline Sciamma

“'Bande de filles’ montre des Blacks à l’écran et ça nous rend fières”

Céline Sciamma: «Les grands films libèrent des territoires plutôt qu’ils ne les occupent»

Cannes 2014: Céline Sciamma, fille de bandes

Adèle Haenel : “Je ne pose pas de limite quand j’ai donné ma confiance”

Les verbes d'Adèle:  Rencontre avec Adèle Haenel, actrice

Adèle Haenel - Force vive

***UPDATES below***

Course en Tête

Adèle Haenel : “A un moment on commence à tellement se kiffer qu'on fait n'importe quoi”

Adèle Haenel, petit soldat

La belle vie d’Adèle Haenel

Adèle Haenel: « J’aime l’idée que les filles s’endurcissent »

Interview d'Adèle Haenel : “La relation avec un réalisateur fait tout”

Adèle Haenel: cherchez le garçon… manqué !

Adèle Haenel: “On ne me reproche plus de ne pas être assez féminine!”

“Elle a un fort potentiel burlesque”, Adèle Haenel racontée par André Téchiné

“Une super-héroïne sans superpouvoirs”, Adèle Haenel racontée par Thomas Cailley

2013

***UPDATES below*** 

Adèle Haenel - La belle audacieuse

2012

Adèle Haenel et Nicolas Maury: conversation ciblée sur Avignon

Une journée avec Adèle Haenel

***UPDATES below***

Interview with Céline Sciamma

2011

***UPDATES below***

Tomboy - Interview with Céline Sciamma

Céline Sciamma, quand tourner est un jeu d’enfants

Adèle Haenel, la belle insurgée

2007

Naissance d'une réalisatrice

[thecousinsdangereux]

if i'm falling wrong [1/1]

notes: over on Twitter, moonyriot has been working on a multi-part journal from Ava's POV covering her time in Switzerland and beyond. She asked me if I wanted to join in on the fun and write a short one-shot to cover some of the events in part 6, which I'll link as soon as it's up. (If you haven't seen any of her posts, here's the first one. They are incredible so definitely check them out.)

—

“The integrity of the upright guides them,” Ava reads, taking care to enunciate each word, “but the crookedness of the treacherous destroys them. That’s Proverbs 11:3, Beatrice.” 

Beatrice definitely knows, which is — Ava thinks — what makes it so funny. Or. Funny to her, at least. Maybe not so much for Beatrice, whose lips have flattened into a thin line that hides almost all of their pretty pink hue (a color Ava has taken a liking to in a way that definitely relates to how often she finds herself staring at Beatrice’s mouth). 

“It is better to promise nothing than to promise something and not be able to do it,” Ava continues, because she’s never been any good at knowing when to stop. “That’s Ecclesiastes. And — ooh, this is a good one — A person who promises a gift but doesn’t give it is like clouds and wind that bring no rain. That’s — ”

“Proverbs again, yes, thank you, Bible.com.” 

“It’s actually Biblereasons.com.” She shows off the screen of her phone, the one that she’s definitely supposed to be using sparingly (and never does). “But sure, I can go to your bible website of choice. Whatever you want. Pretty sure I’m still going to find the same answer, though. Honestly, I would’ve thought a nun would know that lying is bad. Not to brag, or anything, but I learned that one when I was like five, or something.” 

For reasons unknown, this pries Beatrice’s lips wide, dragging them out into a full smile, pink mouth and small indent at the corner appearing just as quickly as Ava’s pulse picks up, heart slamming up against the poor, battered walls of her chest. 

“How odd,” Beatrice begins, in a low drawl that means Ava’s in trouble (in so many ways). “Because I seem to recall you telling Hans, just yesterday morning, that you were allergic to apples. As a result, he traded pastries with you, leaving you with the chocolate eclair you’d been all but salivating over since you first noticed it in the break room. Given that I know that you were perfectly able to consume a slice of apple pie that the neighbors brought up last week, I am forced to conclude that — ”

“Okay, okay! Jesus. Pump the brakes, Miss Marple. I’m allowed to lie; I’m a dirty sinner or whatever. But you hold yourself to a higher standard, right?” (Unfortunately, Ava adds, but only mentally, because yeah.) “So when you said ‘Ava, if you’re able to best me in a mighty trial of combat, I will bequeath to you a single portrait wherein my lips are upturned in joyous felicitations’ or whatever, I took that as an oath, Bea. A serious, serious oath.” 

“One, I don’t sound like that. Two, no English person alive sounds like that. Why do you default to the Regency era when you’re trying to mock my accent?” 

By now, Beatrice’s smile has really started to crack open, showing off the slightest sliver of white behind those lips. It’d be unfair to say that this (the moment where Beatrice’s eyes crinkle with a laughter she most likely won’t release) is always Ava’s goal in any conversation she has with Beatrice, but maybe it is always an intended stop along the way, whatever the actual destination might be. 

(Other pitstops of note include: the cute scrunch of her nose whenever she’s focused on Ava alone, the half-tilt of her head whenever she’s considering something Ava’s said, the almost absentminded brush of her fingers along Ava’s forearm whenever she wants her to pay especially close attention. There’s a common theme here, but Ava’s well-aware of her own preoccupation, so it’s fine. Probably.)  

“Uh, because I’m paying you a huge compliment? Ungrateful much? Mr. Darcy is like… the hottest the British have ever been. Not that that’s hard because otherwise they kind of really suck, but I’m trying here, Bea, and you’re giving me nothing but attitude. And lies.”

Beatrice sighs. It’s cute enough that Ava nearly sighs too, longing bubbling up behind her lips.

“I told you I would smile for one of your pictures if you pinned me during training. It was implied you would do so without cheating.” 

With a tsk that doesn’t sound anything like the one Beatrice sometimes uses (a low sound from the back of her throat that always did very little to help Ava concentrate), Ava takes a half-step closer so that she might properly waggle a finger in Beatrice’s face. 

“I’m only doing what you taught me, Bea I thought I was supposed to use all the resources at my disposal?” 

Beatrice promptly bats the finger away. But that’s sort of the point. (Sometimes, it’s a little pathetic, the lengths Ava will go to make sure Beatrice is touching her at literally every possible opportunity, but Ava’s never really minded being a little pathetic for a good cause. And Beatrice is honestly never hard to bait, at least in this particular way.) 

“Ava, you bit me.” 

“Which was using all the resources at my disposal! Come on! If I’d been in a real fight, you would’ve called that innovative!” 

“Perhaps if you hadn’t used your — ” Delightfully, Beatrice takes a small, steadying breath before her next word, which, to Ava (who’s spent months studying Beatrice with the rigor of a staunch academic) is as much of a giveaway as one of her cute little blushes. “ — tongue.”

“I think the element of surprise would still work just fine,” she insists, but then Beatrice gives her a look, one that she knows won’t allow for any debate over the merits of licking her enemies, and she gives in nearly instantly. (Ava’s really only interested in using any part of her mouth on one person alone, anyway.) “But fine. Okay. Good note, teach.”

Winter has begun to fade from the air and, as they walk back towards their apartment in the meandering pace that has become their custom, Ava is pleased by this for two reasons. One: their neighbors — who bake enough that Ava’s convinced they’re working up to competing on one of those bafflingly polite baking shows — now leave their windows open, filling the air with the most delicious smells, noticeable even a block away from their home. And Two: Beatrice has taken to wearing short-sleeves again, which means that when she nudges Ava now (with a charmed little roll of her eyes), it’s bare skin against bare skin. 

In training, this is both a pleasure and a problem, because then it’s Beatrice’s shorts and Ava’s shirt being pushed up as Ava gets pinned to the ground and it’s the skin of Beatrice’s inner thigh against the skin of Ava’s hip and that’s a lot more than the casual brushes she’s gotten used to. Ava had long ago realized that any and all logical thought flies out the fucking window when faced with a muscular thigh, so really, it hadn’t been all that much of a surprise when it’d resulted in Ava doing something completely insane. 

Like taking Beatrice’s thumb into her mouth. And biting it. And maybe sucking a little. Honestly, it’s all a bit of a haze, because Beatrice had then made a noise that would most certainly be featured in Ava’s dreams for the next week or month or year, in the most mortifying (and sexy) way possible. 

And to be fair, it had worked in getting Ava out of the chokehold she otherwise would’ve probably happily died in. 

So there’s that.

“Something with chocolate today,” Beatrice comments, and Ava short-circuits for a second, thinking about chocolate and fingers and skin and the really incredible potential combination of the three, before she remembers the neighbors and the smell and the baking and feels her cheeks burn.

“Uh — yeah. Maybe they’ll have extra to share.” The windows on the first floor apartment are (of course) open as they approach, and Ava raises her voice just enough for it to carry through. She catches the intertwined laughter of the neighbors that results, and shoots Beatrice a wink that dispels some of the heat building within her, an emergency vent that she’s learned to rely on. 

“You’re shameless,” Beatrice says, in the exact way she always does whenever she doesn’t mean it (lips quirking at the corners). 

“And you’re welcome, when we end up getting brownies, or whatever they’re making.” 

The door to their building never unlocks easily, but it’s gotten worse as the temperatures have started to rise; Beatrice shoulders it open, muscles bunching in her back, and Ava does absolutely nothing to help, watching the flex of her shoulder blades under the tight, gray fabric. 

“You know me,” Beatrice says lightly, knocking the side of her sneakers against the bottom of the stairs before heading up (and Ava does know her, enough to wait patiently for her to complete this small ritual). “I’m always craving sweets.” 

“You are sometimes! Whenever you come home from a night shift, you break into my stash! And since you have a lot of those coming up, on account of you losing our bet…” 

Beatrice laughs, a soft huff that turns into an adorable little squeak when Ava shoves past her on the staircase and snatches the keys from her fingers, bursting through their apartment door with far less effort than Beatrice had needed below. 

“You’re not letting this one go, are you?” 

It’s probably response enough when she snatches her camera off of the kitchen table and points it at Beatrice as soon as she steps across the threshold, but even this (pretty impressive!) sneak attack fails. Beatrice is quick enough to throw a hand up before the snap, lowering it only when Ava does the same with the camera. She continues to eye her warily as she bends down to untie her shoes, only abating to cast a significant look in Ava’s direction, which persists until Ava kicks hers off far less elegantly.

“It’s one photo, Bea!” she grumbles, watching as Beatrice arranges their sneakers in a perfect little line. “Just… one smile. Let’s just get it out of the way, you know? Look up and … ”

Beatrice does look up. 

Ava has to give her that.

It’s the only warning she gets before Beatrice is standing and her fingers are wrapping around Ava’s wrist and she’s pressed flush against Ava’s front and well. Sure. That’s one way to get Ava to shut up. Probably the only way. Ava knows this about herself, but really can’t find any regret when it’s led her right here. 

“You cheated,” Beatrice murmurs lowly. “Why would I reward that?” 

Ava has a lot of thoughts around the concept of Beatrice rewarding her, and absolutely none of them are good. (Or, rather, they’re all extremely good. Very good. Far too good for her to be able to say out loud, those curling, irreverent thoughts that stick her tongue to the roof of her mouth and keep her up at night.) So it’s really out of mercy that she phases then — slipping out of Beatrice’s grip the only way she knows how that doesn’t involve cheap tricks — stepping back and lifting her camera again. 

What follows transpires a bit too quickly for Ava to track. 

She’s seen Beatrice fight in all sorts of situations — at full speed in back alley brawls and at half-tempo when leading her through a new form — but Ava’s pretty sure she’ll never see enough to lose the surprise that comes from being on the end of one of Beatrice’s first strikes. She’s in front of Ava and then she’s not; it’s really as simple (and terrifying) (and hot) as that. One moment, Ava has her camera ready, and then she’s facing a different direction entirely, her hand twisted behind her back, her camera falling from her grasp. Beatrice is fast here too, swooping down to catch it before it hits the floor, but this allows Ava to throw an elbow backwards, a hit that surely would have broken something in Beatrice’s face had it landed (but which Ava knows by now never will). 

“Double or nothing?” Ava pants, stumbling forward and twisting back around to face Beatrice, who’s gently placed the camera on the floor, carefully out of the way. 

“Two photos if you win and you take my night shifts for two weeks when you lose?” 

“Wait, I don’t like the if/when placement in that senten — ”

She barely ducks out of Beatrice’s grapple, cutting herself off mid-word to manage it, a little breathless already. It occurs to her that she’s definitely made a mistake here, looking up and finding Beatrice serious and focused, strands of her hair slipping out of the low bun that’s already started to loosen. Even in the warm light filtering through their apartment windows, Beatrice’s eyes look dark, and Ava spends a second too long suppressing a shiver at the sight. Which means, of course, she’s unable to avoid the next hit: a full tackle to the floor. Either Beatrice really doesn’t want Ava to take this photo or she really wants to get out of her night shifts, because she’s not going about this in the calm, measured way Ava is used to. (There’s a third option and it’s one Ava likes best; maybe Beatrice just really wants to pin Ava to the floor, to feel Ava underneath her, to feel Ava squirm against her front, fighting to get out of the hold. This is the option Ava relates to best and maybe it’s the one driving her now, putting her at a disadvantage just as significant as all the other ones.) 

Ava hits the ground hard, enough to knock air out of her lungs, but she’s saved, partially, by starting on a twist mid-air, mindful of how dangerous it’ll be if Beatrice gets her flat on her back. Not that Ava is opposed to this idea. Not on a normal day. Not even today, if only Beatrice would — 

“Good,” Beatrice says, breaking through Ava’s thoughts, though not in a way that is helpful at all. Beatrice most certainly notices the jerk of Ava’s hips the single word causes, but almost equally as certainly dismisses it as part of Ava’s attempts to break free. “But you over-rotated. Just slightly. See how I can use that to put you on your stomach?”

Always the instructor, Beatrice explains precisely how she’s going to best Ava before she actually does it; if Ava were better at this (if Beatrice were worse) this might actually be of some help in countering Beatrice’s efforts. Sadly, she’s not, so it isn’t. 

“Fuck,” Ava grunts, face pressed directly into the carpet of their bedroom. It’s honestly painful, the way Beatrice’s knee presses into the center of her back, but it’s a sort of pain that Ava’s come to find — over their months together — that she doesn’t especially mind or maybe even likes and maybe gets a fair amount of pleasure from and maybe thinks about it from time to time whenever she gets a moment alone and — yeah. Fuck is really the only word for it. 

“What now, Ava?” Finally, there’s a hint of the breathlessness in Beatrice’s voice: when she locks one of Ava’s arms behind her back, and Ava attempts to land some kind of backwards headbutt, pushing herself up off the floor with her free hand. “What’s your best option?” 

Beg you to have your way with me, doesn’t really seem like the response Beatrice is looking for, but Christ a girl can only take so much. And right about then, Ava knows she’s going to cheat (because it’s either cheat or blurt out something that will inevitably be extremely horny) but is it really cheating if there hadn’t been any rules put forth in the first place? 

She’s gotten better about controlling the Halo, so it barely gives off any light before she lifts onto one knee and throws herself backwards, phasing neatly through Beatrice’s front. The effort Beatrice had been using to hold her down works against her now, effectively swapping their positions as she falls forward, and Ava’s quick to use that momentum, reaching around to grab the front of Beatrice’s shirt so she’s flipped with the motion. Another (gentle) Halo blast lands Beatrice on her back, Ava straddling her hips and pinning both of her hands on either side of her head. 

“You didn’t say no Halo,” Ava says in a rush, as though the victory will be taken away instantly, as though she cares at all about some stupid bet instead of being on top of Beatrice whose eyes are wide and lovely, whose lips are parted and pink, whose chest is — not something Ava is looking at, thank you very much. Because she’s respectful, she can be respectful, she has to try to be respectful. 

“I didn’t,” Beatrice says finally and then fucking licks her lips, like God Himself has decided that Ava needs to be punched directly in the face with attractiveness or whatever and holy shit. 

Holy shit. 

“Then I — that means — uh — ” She releases one of Beatrice’s wrists like it’s burning, very much aware of the intensity of the gaze resting on her, and blindly roots around on the floor behind her until she finds the camera, resting just where Beatrice had left it. “I get to do this.” 

Her fumbling with the camera is hardly graceful, but honestly, the fact that she’s able to produce words at all is nothing short of a miracle, so she’ll take it. Her right hand is still wrapped around Beatrice’s left, fingers circling her wrist as she pins it to the floor, and she takes a picture of this first, holding her breath all the while. 

“For — uh — proof?” she offers, a little weakly, and Beatrice’s stare finally breaks, intensity replaced by something much softer, something that seeps into the corner of her eyes and mouth in equal measure. Ava’s struck by the sight as much as she is by anything else, and her grip relaxes enough that Beatrice can slip out of the hold, both hands drifting down until they come to rest just alongside either one of Ava’s knees. 

“Proof for who?” 

“What do you — proof for literally everyone, Bea; Hans, Camila, Lilith, Mother Superion, Jillian, the regulars at the bar, our neighbors, the lady who runs the bakery down the street, any random person I walk past for the next month. Hell, I might take out an ad in The Guardian, or something, are you kidding?” 

Beatrice laughs and it’s like a crack in the universe, or something equally and unequivocally earth-shattering. Lungs empty, air knocked fully out, Ava lifts her camera almost instinctively, only to find her view devastatingly obstructed, Beatrice’s arms flung over her face (the grin, still wide with laughter, barely peeking out from underneath). 

“Beatrice,” she groans (or maybe pouts).

“I’m sorry!” And she sounds it too, even through the smile, the half-giggles now petering out. “Truly. I’m not used to being photographed. I can’t think of a time it happened before you took up this hobby, not outside of unpleasant family photoshoots and the like.”

Ava’s heart flips painfully in her chest, but Beatrice is quick to soothe, fingers falling back down to brush against the outside of Ava’s leg, as though Ava’s the one in need of comfort.

“I’m not protesting, Ava. Just tell me what to do.” 

Photographs are meant to reproduce moments, memories, emotions, but Ava’s not sure the best photographer in the world, with hundreds of thousands of euros in equipment, would ever be able to fully capture Beatrice as she is now, fondness bleeding from the tips of her fingers, affection lighting the brown of her eyes, and love — or something an awful lot like it — bending her mouth, a bow pulled taut with an arrow that might be Ava herself, as inconceivable as the notion is. 

“Pretend the camera isn’t here,” Ava rasps, her breath hot (heated by all the things boiling inside of her now). “Just look at me.” 

Beatrice looks at her. 

Ava stops breathing. 

She takes the picture. The camera lowers. And Ava forgets about it entirely, object permanence completely obliterated by a force far stronger than something as trivial as human development.

Underneath her, seemingly content to be straddled, Beatrice looks calm, which isn’t unusual, because she almost always looks calm, so maybe it’s that she feels calm too. Like all the things Ava can always sense running through her at speeds only known to light have slowed down or disappeared entirely. The mission, her duties, her vows, her expectations, these things have washed away (temporarily but completely) until it’s only Beatrice left, staring at her lips. And Ava had thought she’d experienced wanting Beatrice in every way, but this one is new.

(She wants Beatrice like this: exactly herself, without anything else getting in the way.)

“Beatrice,” she says, a hitch in her voice breaking the name into three, distinct syllables. “I’m — ”

Cursed. Saved. Ruined. Blessed. Fucked. 

Ava’s not sure which word applies when the smoke alarm goes off downstairs.

It is not especially loud, or piercing, but it goes off and all of the easy calm flees from Beatrice’s eyes as she jerks upwards, back lifting off the floor until she’s close, closer than before, so close and it’s too much, maybe, or maybe Ava’s instincts are working against her (or for her?) because she falls back as soon as Beatrice completes the motion, balance disastrously (helpfully?) disrupted. 

Oh well, Ava thinks, as she lets herself fall back. Maybe a bit of brain damage would do her some good. 

Except that, of course, Beatrice catches her, a simple slip of her hand around Ava’s back, palm pressing to the middle of the Halo, shocks spreading out from the point of impact. 

“You’re what?” Beatrice asks, terribly quiet, as though she feels the air rearranging around them, molecules shifting back and forth between possibilities and outcomes. 

And if Beatrice were still calm, if everything else were still pushed away, if Beatrice was just Beatrice in that moment — just as she’d been so briefly before — it would not be a choice, what Ava did next. And maybe it isn’t one now either, but it’s in the opposite direction: pulling away rather than pushing forward (creating space rather than closing it). 

“I’m — just — I’m done. With the photos.” Decision made, breath returning, she shrugs, a little bashful now, the steady beep of the alarm and the laughter of their neighbors drifting up from below. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Beatrice’s head tilts, a small crease forming in between her eyebrows. Some people want money or power or peace or the answers to the universe, but Ava thinks she would be content, if only she could know what Beatrice is thinking right now.

“No,” she murmurs. “Not so bad at all.”

[trixdraws]

flip flop

[mariannekhalil]

portrait of a lady on fire feat. a little hellfire moment

[paverics]

Netflix cancelling shows isn’t the problem, actually. is it annoying? sure. but the problem is they don’t finish them

they know what’s going to be renewed and what isn’t even before it airs. they’ve likely known for months that warrior nun wasn’t getting a season 3, probably before they even gave it s2

so why not tell them? why not say s2 will be the last? why encourage the show to create a bigger cliffhanger and make him fight to have the post credit scene when you know there won’t be a next? why not give creators an opportunity to finish their creations?

15 good shows with 2-3 seasons start-finish is better than 30 fantastic shows that ended on cliffhangers after 1 season

I don’t know who told Netflix that quantity mattered more than quality —- because it doesn’t. please, i’m begging, commit to something. because in binge era tv, 1 season is not enough, but 2 might be if you tell them in advance so they can wrap it up

[kkglinka]

After I made the post about the name references, some fans pointed out that there was a connection with Dante’s Divine Comedy as well. Super duper cliff notes version: the dead poet virgil guides dante’s self-insert through the levels of hell, demonstrating various sins and their punishments, until they reach satan. From there, three saints appear, and beatrice leads dante up through purgatory and delivers him into paradise.

In this allusion, Ava is Dante, the sinner of lapsed faith. Virgil is played by Vincent, who steadily leads her astray due to his own sin of worshipping false gods. He took someone hedonistically enjoying life and helped turn her into a killer, before leading her down into the catacombs until they reached the single dark chamber where Adriel resided.

Now, two levels up from satan’s chamber is where sodomites are punished. This is how severe a sin homosexual behavior is. Notice that conservative forms of christianity do not recognize queerness as a state of being, but only as a voluntary, deviant action. This includes thinking gay stuff, because catholicism includes thought crime. Whereas modern concepts of queerness recognize it as a state of being, so that denying any expression, is tantamount to denying the self entirely. It’s slow motion self-destruction.

It’s as the gang prepares to infiltrate the vatican that we see Beatrice start orienting toward Ava instead of her religion. Why? Because this is when Ava begins to inspire Beatrice to believe in herself, and her self is queer. This is where she also begins to veer away from self-destruction, because that’s what being the OCS’s perfect soldier entails.

So they reach satan’s vestibule (nine levels of hell, plus this, makes ten), blow it open, and literally climb back up to leave. Now, in Inferno, the three saints Dante meets are Mary (Magdalene), Lucy (blinded for her faith), and Beatrice (a real woman dante was into, but doubling as the saint). Two of these are obvious matches, and Lucy is Lilith…who was later blinded by (misguided) faith, as in, Adriel burned her eyes out. All three characters are present for the tomb opening, but only Beatrice escorts Ava up into the mountains of switzerland.

We then get two months of Ava essentially learning to be a better person through greater restraint, basic life skills, healthy communication, etc. That would be the first parts of purgatory, after which Ava experiences greater demands on her altruism and sense of duty. Which culminates in Beatrice delivering her through the gates of…something. (It’s noteworthy that the ArqTech logo resembles a trident or pitchfork).

But here’s the thing, the entire time Ava is becoming a more balanced person, she leads Beatrice into breaking one vow after another. We got the ten commandments, of which Beatrice breaks roughly eight (it depends on how the list is delineated). She covets Ava when she believes Michael has her interest, she cooperates with Ava’s deceptions, she steals to obey OCS orders, she killed when it wasn’t necessary, she ultimately rebels against her parents’ expectations, takes the lord’s name in vain*, denies the existence of god, and sets Ava as her center of belief. Add whatever vows the OCS has as a religious order, such as chastity, humility, obedience, refraining from drink, etc. Which, like… *Waves a hand* She drinks, parties, gains enough pride to challenge authority, before reciprocating a kiss. In short, Beatrice goes down like a set of bowling pins.

*Taking in vain refers to vanity, not futility. So, referencing god or piousness to make yourself look good in front of others. But, it’s a common take that it refers to stuff like, “god damnit, oh my god, etc”.

Then Beatrice witnesses the symbolic destruction of her entire faith, as a system. Reya, who is called a god, uses what look like demons, to tear apart an alien who styled himself a god and prophet. Ava already pointed out that Jesus was likely the same type of alien, to everyone’s discomfort at the time. That her religion was all a pack of fabrications with a tiny core of truth, written by men to benefit those in power. Beatrice would have internalized that she would be condemned to hell unless she bowed and scraped enough to earn god’s forgiveness…and none of that self-flagellation had been necessary.

Beatrice must have understand that, when she looked at Reya, she was looking at what her religion named god. Yet, after all of her alleged sins, Reya smiled back in benevolence, without judgment. Ava, the walking definition of sinful irreverence, was readily accepted into Reya’s realm. Beatrice finally escapes her prison, where she had expected to live a short, brutal life, possibly ending in damnation regardless of her best efforts. She walks away smiling because she and Lilith are the only ones who faced god and lived.

[filmreel]

HAPPY TOGETHER (1997) dir. Wong Kar-wai

[xkatebishop]

Absolutely devastated that Warrior Nun was cancelled, but let me tell you, I have zero intention of letting these characters go. I’ve got a story to finish, more stories to read. Gifs to make and amazing arts to reblog. .

These characters belong to us now. This ship and the rest of their story is ours and I fully intend to give them as many happily ever afters as I can.

It sucks, it’s bullshit, and I genuinely have no idea what these streaming services are looking for anymore, but they can’t take away what we got and how much we loved it. They can’t take away our passion for these characters and especially not Ava and Bea.

I like it here way too much to leave.

[trixdraws]

[corvophobia]

i need to be sedated

[kashlat2]

Sacrifice

[kroniskolamplig]

[clexalab]

The headcanon that won't let me live is that Beatrice has a PAST and SKILLS and Ava has no idea what she's getting into. Like a past where she has done and experienced things that would lead to her parents saying that she's "not falling in line" and shipping her off to Catholic boarding school.

She would have had to be 18 to join any order and then needed at least a year (even on Beatrice's expedited time) to take her vows, which means that there's a chance she was 15 or 16 or older when she "wasn't falling in line" and there's no guarantee she immediately behaved once she was at an all-girls boarding school. This is also sophisticated, educated Beatrice we're talking about and she would have been exceptional at all the sports and academics and activities and any queer woman in her vicinity would have PAID ATTENTION to her and her sharp jaw and dark eyes.

And that's what Ava doesn't know. Ava thinks that Beatrice, restrained, controlled, buttoned up Beatrice, never made out let alone slept with anyone and she thinks she knows what Beatrice is capable of. When in reality Beatrice, strong, competent, intense Beatrice, was also exceptional at being gay. That was exactly the problem. She wasn't blind to the way other girls would look at her and she was great at kissing them and meticulous, kind, dedicated Beatrice was incredible at getting them to fall apart under her. That's the twist Ava doesn't see coming: that OCS's crown jewel and biggest pride, Sister Beatrice, with hands more powerful and lethal than most weapons, can make those hands precise and gentle and more sinful than anything Ava ever imagined.

GIF by @phoebeswallerbridge

[synnyi]

“They can’t beat us, Bea. Not together.”

[artseamoni]

say a little prayer 

[cathnes]

They’re living rent free in my head

[sarrrdoodles]

i was not normal about them when season 1 came out i'm definitely not normal now (also on twitter <3)