Sep 27, 2024
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𝑭𝑶𝑹𝑬𝑺𝑻 𝑪𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑳𝑬𝑺・tropes・TVTropes Listing Edit
Complete list (with links!) under the cut.
THE FLORENCE FILES
genre - rpf, but not really. loosely based on the new life by dante aligheri because if dante can write rpf so can i
pov - first person limited
tags - nonbinary lead character, characters of colour, (basically the entire cast except 2), dramatic disaster bisexuals, neurodivergent character, dark academia, truth + lies, idolisation, unreliable POV, Pining™, what if dear evan hansen was a murder mystery, italians i am so sorry
synopsis -
It's a story as old as time itself: Eighteen year old Latin student D.A. Acardi bumps into Florence Siddal on the way to class and falls hopelessly in love. Acardi's friends are used to them crushing on strangers, but they insist that it's different this time. They'll muster up the courage to actually hold a conversation with her. It could be something great!
But before any of that can happen, Florence turns up dead, and Acardi's the one who finds the body. When their embarrassing love sonnets are discovered, Florence's friends confront Acardi for answers on her death, believing them to have dated Florence. Now Acardi must decipher the clues that she left behind, but they'll need help from an idol of theirs, the famed poet and professor Vincent Muso. The more Acardi finds out about Florence and Vincent, the more their carefully-constructed life falls apart, and once the painful truth comes out, they're not sure if they'll survive.
characters-
D.A. Acardi / 18 / they/them / black / bi slam poet, prone to dramatic swooning, might have a crush on the Latin professor, obnoxiously Italian
Gemma Donati / 18 / she/her / korean / pan historian, always pragmatic, definitely not pining after her childhood best friend acardi
Florence E. Siddal / 18 / she/her / white / bi pianist, who is she even, nice i guess??? we barely knew ye
Vincent Muso / 40 / he/him / white / straight professor, mildly famous for translating the aeneid, mysterious, survives off vodka and coffee
Olivia Ruiz / 18 / she/her / latina / lesbian compsci student, American, deeply suspicious of everyone except her gf
Madelyn Patel / 18 / she/her / indian / lesbian biology student, French, full of love towards everybody but mostly her gf
PARK MIN-SEO | WWLB
what is a ghost? something dead that seems to be alive. something dead that doesn’t know it’s dead.
she's hurtling directly towards an inescapable ending. every single time, no matter what she does, she'll wind up at the cold stone door, alone alone alone, and every single time she'll enter the darkness and never emerge. it's a circle, it's a spiral, winding down and down and down into the earth and she's falling, she's falling, she's taking a one-way trip down a mobius loop.
basics: 16, korean, lesbian
likes: creating things, long walks, sewing
dislikes: silence, touch, tragedy
background: maybe it starts when she's in the middle of making a dress and she stares at the sewing machine and suddenly she doesn't know why she bothers doing this. maybe it starts when she's talking with her classmates but she's a million miles away. maybe it starts when she looks in the mirror and she brushes her cheek and her hand comes away slick with blood. maybe she's always felt like this. maybe she always will.
taglist : @natalierosewrites @commasinsidequotes
a dump of wattpad covers made by moi for no particular reason
THE FLORENCE FILES ➵ FLORENCE EVANGELINE SIDDAL
18 | BRITISH | SHE/HER | BISEXUAL | TRANSFEM | ARGUABLY THE MAIN CHARACTER HERE
She is bleeding from the mouth but she doesn't seem to care. Florence is burning, and her spires and bridges are going up in smoke.
"I will live forever," the girl-city hisses through scarlet teeth, and she means it.
Florence Siddal has always had her story written for her—to be the Perfect Siddal Child, a blip in history like all the other Perfect Siddal Children before her. A vague shadow, here for a few years then gone, no impact left on the world at large.
No one really knows Florence, and she's glad. She has learnt to hide her thoughts well, cloak them under layers of code and mystery until they seem like nothing more than nonsense. If they know her thoughts, then they have something to tether her down with. But push comes to shove, and she finds herself looking Death in the eye much earlier than she expected. So in her last moments, she makes a choice. She leaves behind the key to decode her private journals, a catalyst that will lead to either revolution or disaster.
Florence Siddal will make a mark. It's just a matter of how.
TAGLIST ➵ @starrywritingg @haleliwia @semblanche (pm to be + or -)
grace³ excerpts re: gracelyn&beatrice
She remembers when she was real. It was a long time ago, maybe eons, maybe years. Her skin was warm, her face muddied from frolicking carelessly in the woods. She was a child then, who cried and whined and bled red blood. She is still a child now but she does not feel like one. One day, maybe she'll feel like one again, but she knows it won't be until she dies.
But how much of your daughter did you actually know and how much did you make up? What is Beatrice, other than bits of chaos patchworked, from rumours and ideals and friends, and did you ever really know the true Beatrice? Is there even a true Beatrice? Or is it just shadows, is it just Gracelyn alone in the void with fragments of her own mind?
She hugs you ever tighter. She smells of peaches and woodland, but her skin is hard and cold. You run her fingers along her cracks, and you wonder how much longer you can do this. How much longer you can live a picture-perfect cottage life how much longer you can keep you both happy, loving, a family. You tell yourself it's forever. You almost believe it.
taglist @city-by-the-sea @aepreall @lucidpoets @semblanche
THE FLORENCE FILES ➵ D.A. ARCARDI
18 | BISEXUAL | BLACK | ITALIAN | THEY/THEM | AUTISTIC | POV CHARACTER
A selection of lies: the taste of Tuscan bread bitter on one's tongue, the warm/cold/warm smile of a stranger, an altar to an idol who doesn't deserve it, Love, the sun, and other stars.
D.A. Arcardi is at heart, a liar. Oh, they're good at it, they're a poet and wannabe politician, their life is built on lies that seem almost convincing enough to pass as truth. Those are healthy lies, however, white lies. But there are other types of lies, lies people tell to themselves, lies that trap themselves deep down in the consciousness and never let go. The lies so intricate, so persuasive, that one can believe they're really genuine, that they're cold hard facts.
When lies hide in the marrow of your bones, hold you straight and upright, a crutch for your very survival, what do you do when your lies are uncovered for the fantasies they are? Do you rise upon the ashes of your castle on a cloud? Or will you continue to lie and lie and dig yourself a hole deeper than Hell?
taglist ➵ @haleliwia