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buckysgoldenheart · 4 years

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Unexpectedly Bitten

Vampire!Henry Cavill x Reader

Summary: Your ex gets into some trouble with Vampires, and his mistakes lead the bloodsuckers back to you. After seeing you, one vampire gets a little attached and he’s taking his time deciding what he plans to do with you, but whatever it is, you’re not afraid. In fact, you might just be a little attached to him too.

Warnings: cursing, smut, violence. (Count on spelling mistakes or repeating words too often. it’s very likely.)

Notes: Let me emphasize this: there is little rhyme or reason to the way this story is broken into parts. I did my best though, and I stuck to 7. I tried not to make each part too long.

This is a Vampire!Henry x Reader story where each chapter, while chronological, is a different conversation or event during the course of their evolving relationship.

Words: 2045

Part 6: Out of Time

You laid facing each other on Henry’s plush mattress you’d somehow made it to as the night went on, while he ran his fingers through your messy, sex-crazed hair. Three times took everything out of you, but you hadn’t slept a wink, afraid of what another day gone by would mean. He said you had to go back, but it would have to be before the five a.m. summer sunrise tomorrow or you would be stuck until night, when the Lord arrived.

You wanted to be stuck with him. Stuck in his bed, in his arms. Stuck to the life you’d been living since he took you. And you hoped everything between you was enough to convince him, to squash his fear, and believe in himself to protect you.

“I don’t want to be without you,” He whispered.

“Then don’t be without me,” You said, tracing over his bottom lip with your thumb, savoring the way those words passed through them moments before. Your bite had already healed, and it made you want to make another.

“Lamb—” You covered his mouth with your hand, fearing what he may say.

After a beat, Henry gently removed that hand and placed a kiss on your palm before pressing it against his heart.

“It’s so strange,” You said.

“What is?”

“Stories say a vampire’s heart is ripped from their chest when they are turned, that the holes are filled with hatred for humans. But yours beats as strong as anyone else’s.” Your fingers on his skin practically vibrated from the intense thumping.

“This heart has been living for hundreds of years, you know.” He smiled. “You’d think it’d be old, worn out, but…I don’t think it could ever get to that point if you’re around.” Then the smile faded as he gripped your hand harder, and said, “I have to take you back today.”

“Henry—”

“No,” He shook his head. “My turn now. You must listen to me, Lamb.” You looked away but he tilted your face back to his. “He comes tomorrow,” He said, emphasizing each word.

The tears threatened to sting sharper than they ever had before, as if you needed a reminder that this loss—the loss of Henry—would be the worst you’d faced yet. You did not need that reminder, and you cursed the tears. “Then bring me back after he’s gone.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?” You practically choked trying to get the sound out.

“Because Elec was suspicious when he saw you. I’ll be watched for some time and if they catch me bringing you back, they’ll know I didn’t drain you and they’ll kill you anyway.”

Your cheeks began to burn from the hot downpour of tears coating them. “Henry…”

He couldn’t wipe the droplets from your skin fast enough, like he knew they were hurting you. “I don’t want this either.”

“How…How long would it be until I could see you again?”

“I don’t know,” He said, kissing you hard to kill your sob.

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You convinced him to let you stay until night. But it wasn’t so hard after getting him drunk off of the feel of you sweetly nipping at his neck. ‘What’s another few hours,’ He’d said in that raspy, lust-drenched voice, then pulled your body on top of his and kissed you. There was no reason to leave a second before you had to, but you knew it was pushing Henry to the brink. It was a stress on his shoulders that you hated to admit would not be relieved until you were gone.

But as it would turn out, a few hours could make all the difference. A few hours full of selfish choices has the power to make or break your entire world.

Henry was deep inside of you, your breaths mixing as you ground your hips back and forth on top of him. His hold on your hips was beautifully tight, but it turned painful the instant Chris barged through the door to Henry’s room. Fear struck your vampire’s core at the expression on his friend’s face, and he rushed to cover you as you lifted off of him.

“What is it?” Henry asked, sitting up fast; the thick blankets pooling above his hips. You couldn’t see his face, but the agitation in his voice made your lungs collapse.

Chris tossed you a terrified glance, and said to you both, “We are out of time.”

You weren’t so sure Henry hadn’t lied when he said his heart wouldn’t die as long as you were around. You could practically feel it withering. He looked back at you. “Stay here,” he said, shoving the covers off his legs and yanking his boxers on. He threw the rest of his clothes on his body and walked to you, cupping your face in his hands and giving you a quick kiss. “Promise me you won’t move; you won’t make a sound.”

You nodded.

“Say it!”

“I promise.”

He took a deep breath and kissed you once more, then jogged out the door after Chris.

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Long silver hair draped over the slim shoulders of the self-appointed yet widely accepted vampire Lord. His height landed somewhere between Henry’s and Elec’s, but despite his size, he emanated a power that could crumble the walls of Henry’s home until the roof caved in; a roof that would cave in on the home you were currently in. For more than one reason, Henry knew he had to tread lightly.

The Lord smiled--his fangs a little longer, slightly sharper than most--when Chris returned to the living room with Henry in tow. “You certainly know how to make you master wait,” Elias said in such an even, unthreatening tone it made Henry’s stomach quiver.

“Forgive me. I was expecting you tomorrow.”

A well-manicured eyebrow arched in what appeared to be genuine surprise. “Is that so?”

“A mistake on my part, I’m sure,” Henry said, gesturing toward one of the couches, inviting the Lord to sit as tradition expected.

Elias sat, pleased, and crossed one long leg over the other. His Amber eyes--the color of the burning sun at dusk—scanned the room. “Still not a touch of modernization in this home, is there?”

“No real reason to change much,” Chris said with an attempt at a casual shrug. “We don’t get visitors.”

Elias’s eyes pierced Henry’s like a dagger to the gut. “Oh no?”

“No,” Chris affirmed, but Henry didn’t miss the small smirk stretching across Elec’s pale, thin lips.

Elias’s mouth twitched to the side before settling into a frown. “You see, that’s not what I heard. I heard you’ve had quite a…unique visitor as of late. An extended-stay guest, some might say.”

Neither Chris nor Henry answered, both unable to find the oxygen in the air to do so.

“Where is the human, boys?”

“Gone,” Henry managed to say.

“Gone or dead?”

“What does it matter how I word it?”

“How you word it is everything,” The Lord replied. “After all, Henry, we all know ‘gone’ and ‘dead’ are not the same. So, I’ll ask again.” He clicked his tongue. “Where is the human?”

“Dead, then.”

Elias sighed in sincere disappointment and gave a brief nod to Elec, who disappeared to scour the home.

“She’s not here,” Henry said, trying to restrain his panic.

“Henry…” Elias frowned again, like a disappointed parent at their child’s transparent lie.

Henry didn’t know what to do. He felt useless, weak. If he ran to find you before Elec could, then it would give you away. If he held his breath and prayed you hid well enough for Elec to pass over you, there might be a chance; though slim, it was all Henry could place his hope in. But in the end, what he saw ripped his heart from his chest.

Elec only tsked as he carried you into the room, your body wrapped tight in Henry’s bedsheet. “Didn’t even bother to hide her, Hen? You must not care for her very much. Although, I suppose the look on your face suggests otherwise." You were set on your feet and Elec held firmly to your hand as if he were escorting you. The blank look in your eyes made Henry’s body freeze over. It was the look humans only get if their minds have been blocked by a vampires’ will. Elec looked to Elias. “I told you he loves her.”

“I’ll put her back where I found her.” Henry tried to keep his voice steady as his eyes stayed glued to your glazed over ones. “Please.”

“We all know that’s not how this works.” Elias stood, pulling on the cuffs of his coat until they straightened down to his wrists. “Elec explained everything. You got your one chance to dispose of her, and you failed to take advantage of it. She needs to be made an example of. Now, stay,” He commanded Henry like a dog, keeping his feet from taking another step.

Henry practically doubled over at the sight of Elias’s fingers wrapping around your slender neck, as a silent sob prepared to destroy him from the inside out. Chris moved to Henry and threw his arms around his shoulders while Henry cried ‘Please’ over and over like a man with a broken mind.

“Be thankful, Henry.” Elias said. “Be happy she’ll die while in the trance instead of flailing and sobbing like a small lamb at slaughter time.”

There was no suspense, no drama to the way your neck snapped. It was just a crack, like a lightning strike in an empty field; no other sound around until your body and Henry’s knees hit the floor in sync with thunderous thuds. Your death was not meant to be a long, drawn out torture. It was to make a point; and it certainly had.

Through the cloud of his tears, Henry noticed Elias crouch down in front of him. “I am not an evil man, Henry,” Elias said, cupping Henry’s cheek, but his blue eyes couldn’t be forced from your body, broken on the floor. “I understand how you must be feeling. The majority of us were in love with a human once long ago. But they made us weak, and a weak vampire is a useless vampire. We had grown so accustomed to placing our humans on a pedestal that we were blind to the flip it caused in our power. We’d begun to bow to them, but now we have regained our strength. Over the last few centuries, we’ve come to show them that we are the ones in power again; that their species serves us one purpose. Our laws surrounding humans were put in place for a reason, Henry. That, I know you know. However…” Elias glanced back at your body. “I see you have lost so much here today. So, I will ignore your blatant disrespect for your Lord and the law, as well as for your lack of offerings.” Elias then stood, dusting off and smoothing his already wrinkleless coat. “I visit every quarter-century, and you’ve been so good up until now, Henry. This truly is a disappointment.”

The second the Lord and his loyal pup were out the door, Henry stood and rushed to your side, only to collapse back on his knees again. He touched you delicately as if he might break another of your bones, then framed your face with his hands, cradling it with care.

“Henry…” Chris said, but received no answer. “Henry!”

Henry’s head shot around with a growl when Chris’s touch met his shoulder. “Don’t!”

“If you’re going to do it, do it now, before it’s too late.”

Henry’s face fell to anguish as he looked back at you, and he softly brushed your hair away from your face. He was losing valuable time, and there was a deadline for this sort of thing; one that could not be toyed with.

His kiss landed on your forehead, your cheek, your mouth, then he grabbed your wrist with shaking fingers and brought it to his lips. He kissed the inner side of it for a long beat.

“Forgive me, my love. I did not want this for you,” He whispered against your skin before sinking his piercing fangs into your delicate flesh.

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subbing-for-clones · 4 years

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Stranded Part 2

Savage Opress x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

WARNINGS: Mentions of death and decomposition, mental illness, fear terror and FLUFF

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Savage's eyes fluttered open to the sun shining brightly through the trans-durasteel panes that decorated the walls seemingly without rhyme or reason. The little one was frying some kind of thin meat strips on the stove and sipping hot caf. Without turning her head, she called over to him.

"How ya feeling?"

"Not great but better."

She turned and strode over to him, still laying down.

"I couldn't do this yesterday but I can today."

"What do you mean..?"

She placed her hands on his bare broad chest and closed her eyes. A warm tingling sensation wafted over him. It felt like sunshine, utter joy and flying all at once. When she pulled away her eyes were a little fuzzy.

"It takes a lot of energy but you can transfer your life force to something and heal it. I was kinda low yesterday," she turned matter-of-factly back to the stove.

Savage had only ever had painful experiences when it came to using the force or having it used on him. He hadn't ever thought of it as anything other than a weapon. He wanted to ask about it but shy away from the topic. Instead, he stood and stretched. He didn't have an ounce of pain. This woman who found him once again amazed him.

While the two unlikely pair ate their breakfast, her eyes didn't leave him, slightly squinting.

"You haven't been like this very long?"

"No. I was altered by the witches of my home world."

"Huh. Did you ask for this?" truly curious she stopped eating.

"No." she cocked a brow at his response, waiting for an elaboration.

"My species is subservient to our women. We live separately and go through deadly trials to be chosen by one for breeding or whatever they want really." He continued eating as the information he provided was simply normal for him.

"Was this..." she waved her hand at his body. "For breeding?" his cheeks slightly tinged in a deeper gold.

"No. I was chosen to act as a weapon for one of the sisters. She abandoned me when I didn't live up to the expectation." the woman noted as his eyes darkened. Wanting to change his mood she lightened up.

"Well, I'm happy you're here Savage. You have much to learn in the ways of the force.. you're strong but your energy is incredibly dark but you... you do not feel that way....." she trailed off in thought and muttered, "certainly an enigma. Very interesting," she tapped her finger against her chin.

Savage's heart fluttered. He had never received any kind of praise from a female before and he didn't really know how to process it. His flush only deepened when she once again undressed in his line of sight, slipping on a shorter, loose grey dress.

"When you've finished, dress and meet me outside,” she skipped out the door and shouted something unintelligible into the trees.

Savage silently hoped she wasn't completely insane while he quickly washed the dishes for her. He pulled on his pants and his long black kilt. Remembering that she had cut off his shirt for a sling he huffed and left the tattered remnant. When he came out, he saw what could've been a scene in a holovid. She stood with under a ray of sunlight, skin shimmering in the glow with a bright smile gracing her face. Her hands were pressed to the forehead of a green Varactyl while a dozen small song birds of every color fluttered around her.

"I think I should call you 'princess,'" he stepped forward cautiously.

She giggled melodiously.

"Mira here won't hurt you I promise. You think I look like a princess?" she flushed and batted her eyelashes.

"More than anyone else I've ever seen."

She extended her hand out to Savage.

"Come here," she cooed. He slowly made his way to her and took her hand. It was soft and warm, she held it for just a moment, running her thumb over his knuckles.

"Do not be afraid. Mira is a friend," she placed his hand where hers was just a minute ago on the Varactyl's head.

"Close your eyes and reach out to her with the force. Gently."

He stood there for a minute before he felt anything. All of a sudden it felt like wind was rushing around him. He could see trees flying past him and a breeze danced against his skin. He leapt from trees, gliding through the air.

She watched with satisfaction as his and Mira's eyes were closed and their breathing synced slowly. She felt their signatures meld for a moment. Savage pulled his hand away and looked at her wide eyed but grinning. Mira chirped happily beside him.

"Good, you made the connection. Rather quickly I might add. Mira is a receptive one. Very friendly. She's been with me a couple years now."

"I...I felt what she feels when she hunts," he was smiling at the creature fondly.

"Yes, that seems to be a favorite time for her."

"That felt much different than any other time I've used the force.... was that the light side?"

"I'm sure the Jedi would say yes but I am no Jedi. I don't see the force as light or dark."

Savage looked confused. Everyone called the force light or dark. The woman continued,

"Take a knife for example. In the wrong hands... a knife can take an innocent life, used to rob someone or threaten them other ways. However, in the 'right' hands it can be used as a medical instrument, carve wood or simply chop produce. I think of the force in the same way. The intent is what matters to me. Did you want to hurt Mira when you reached out to her?"

"No..no I didn’t," he stammered.

"That’s why it felt different."

Savage understood what you were saying and turned back to Mira. The animal nudged him gently with her head affectionately.

"Let's go for a ride. I wanna finish stripping the ships you landed on. I haven't been to those ones yet. If you have anything else there, now’s a good time to get it."

The woman strapped large bags onto the sides of the Varactyl. She hopped up onto Mira's back and once again extended her hand out to Savage. He climbed up and took his seat behind her. When Mira lurched forward, he gripped the woman's waist tightly so he wouldn't fall off and she laughed.

"Hold on tight handsome it's not a long ride but it's a turbulent one."

"A-alright princess."

The added weight did nothing to slow Mira down. She was light on her feet and graceful. Leaping high into the air and gliding back down into the canopy. Princess whooped and cried out in excitement whereas Savage just held her tighter. His chest swelled with the rush. He was terrified but also having fun. He was a little disappointed when it ended and the ships were in sight. He slid off first and held his hands out for the princess. She beamed down at him and let Savage lift her by her waist with her hands on his shoulders. Her breath hitched when he pulled her down to him to set her on the grass underfoot. Quickly turning away to hide the heat rushing to her face.

"Alright, anything you wanna take, toss it in the bags. I'm gonna look through some of the others.”

They parted. Savage always traveled light so he didn't have much to take with him. Some extra med gear and clothes, that was it. He hesitated in the cockpit looking down at the talisman that Mother Talzin gave him. It lay in pieces. He exhaled a silent apology, acknowledging that he probably wouldn't find his brother anytime soon. He slipped the pieces gently into his pocket and made his way out. After securing his few belongs in the saddle bag on Mira, he turned around to look for the princess. He could sense her nearby but couldn't see where she was.

"SAVAGE!"

He ran back to the hazardous pile of crashed ships.

"WHERE ARE YOU?"

He sighed relieved when she popped out behind his transport smiling ear to ear. His heart still pounding.

"It’s not huge but there's a Kriffing cargo ship buried under your transport and a fighter. Help me lift them. Cargos are gold mines."

She stood shoulder to shoulder with him; well, shoulder to rib. Both of their arms were raised. It was shaky at first but they managed to move Savage’s large transport off to the side with the force. The fighter was much easier to shift. She grabbed his wrist and cried out excitedly, pulling him along to the sealed door.

"Could you cut it open with your saber?"

He smiled as she watched him ignite his saber and cut through the thick durasteel.

"Yes! Cutitopencutitopencutitopen!" she chanted excitedly and squealed.

Once he kicked the obstacle out of their way she shrieked and dove practically head first inside. When he entered, he was hit with the heavy scent of death. Four Weequay bodies lay scattered and half rotted around the cargo bay. Savage covered his nose with a disgusted look on his face.

The woman however didn't seem bothered by it as she sifted through the containers.

"This was a pirate ship... I haven't seen many of those," her whole top half was inside a rather large container while she spoke.

"Usually lots of credits, jewelry, spice.... not really useful to us right now but if we ever make it out of here, we'll be rich." He made his way to the sleeping quarters and took the standard med gear and hygiene supplies that was fairly standard to each room.

When he came out, he found her pleasantly surprised as she held up some lovely dresses in bright colors to her form.

"I think I can tailor these to fit..." more thinking out loud than actually talking to him. She walked deeper, into the cockpit and tried to fire up the engine to no avail. She didn't have hope, it looked like they nose-dived into the ground anyway. She sighed and checked the common area.

Rations, some cook ware in better shape than hers was, liquor... other odds and ends that would be decently useful. Savage found her holding a Sabacc deck.

"Do you know how to play?" She asked coyly?

"Yeah... some of the other nightbrothers taught me when I was a pup. Do you?" She shook her head.

"Well, I'll show you. We can play together." Her face lit up and something warmed in his chest that he'd never felt before. He pointed his thumb back towards the cargo bay.

"I found something you might be interested in.." she followed him; arms full. He fiddled with a small electronic box and powered it up.

"It won't connect to the net out here but it looks like there are some downloaded holovids,” he turned back to face her. She had dropped everything she was carrying and stared at him in amazement.

"I...I've never seen a holo-player out here before," he smirked.

"Well princess if you can charge it, we can see what's on it."

The two of them loaded up what they had onto Mira. Princess did a thorough once over of the other ships. Finding a blaster with a decent amount of charges was the second best find next to the holo-player. They found a few sewing kits, more rations and med kits, and some crop seeds which also excited her.

They had ended up spending much longer than she wanted to searching through the wreckage. The sun was starting to set and it was falling fast.

"We need to get going. It gets dangerous at night... things come out.." she shifted uncomfortably on her feet looking up into the trees. Mira let out a quiet warning chirp. Savage lifted her up and put her on the Varactyl's back, climbing up behind her. This time when he held her waist it was more protective.

"I think I can sense them... what are they?"

Mira took off but it was slower, more cautious than when they came here to begin with.

"I don't know.. I've never seen them clearly. I know they have two arms, and three long sharp claws. Their hide is tough and... very rough. No fur.."

Savage held his saber in one hand, not yet igniting it. He could see in the dark but these creatures still hid. The sky was a deep, dusty blue as dusk swallowed the atmosphere. It felt different at night. Like the air was hungry.

"I will keep you safe," he said as his eyes darted around. Once they broke the tree line it was only a short distance to the cabin. They unhooked the bags from Mira and she dashed behind the house up the barren hills, as far away from the forest as she could get. Savage and princess walked into the house.

"I've never seen them leave the forest. They've never come out of the trees into the clearing so the house and the yard are safe as well as the hot springs and hills behind us. Savage nodded in understanding.

"Stay here," his voice rumbled, "I'll fetch wood for the fire."

She nodded before he left with his weapon in hand. Princess started putting away their various findings and set some rations out on the table. They were going to have to go hunting again tomorrow. She felt his shift in the force. Fear had a particularly unique wavelength. She took the blaster and right before could get to the door he kicked it open with his arms filled with wood. He hurried inside, dropped the wood and latched the lock. His face was blanched.

"Are you alright?" she asked slowly reaching for him.

"They just stood there. Behind the trees. Watching."

"You have night vision?"

He nodded and looked down at her.

"I... I’ve never seen anything like them. So.. gangly. Tall and.." he shuddered and shook his head, controlling himself. If she lived here for so long it was safe but when he turned back to face her, she had regressed.

"Beasts in the trees....." she still stood but her eyes were blown, her arms crossed over her chest; trembling.

"Beasts in the trees...." she repeated

He quickly gathered her up in his arms and sat on the bed. Her terror radiating off of her. He shushed her softly and rocked gently. With a finger under her chin, he tilted her face up to his.

"Come back to me princess," he whispered soothingly.

"It’s alright, you're safe. I will keep you safe. I've cut down bigger and scarier things in my life. My planet has a rancor infestation. I have you. It's alright," he continued to whisper and hold her until she came down. She splayed her hand on his chest over his hearts. Their strong beat acting as an anchor. She buried her face in his neck. Her breath hot on his skin.

That warm feeling pooled in his chest again. He ran his fingers across her forehead, swishing away the hair that had fallen over it. She finally pulled away to look into his eyes.

"T-thank you Savage... I don't know how much longer I could've lasted alone out here. I feel like I'm breaking as soon as the sun goes down." He thought about his next words carefully as he stroked her cheek.

"My people live in darkness. I have lived with and fought against its terrors all of my life. I swear to you I am strong enough to keep you from harm. Today I found myself... almost glad to have crashed here. Because of you, and what you can show me. But, mostly you princess," his face was hot. She pressed a tender kiss to his cheek.

"We should eat. You especially. I imagine you're starving. The rations aren't bad with the hot sauce I found," she smiled coyly at him.

They ate in a comfortable silence. This time he watched as she slipped off her dress out of the corner of his eye. A feeling of want tingling under the surface. When they crawled in bed together, she wrapped her leg around him and lay her head on his chest. Listening to his hearts beat while he held her close to him.

She stayed like that all night and for the first time in years, she slept through the night.

#savage x reader #savage opress x reader fluff #savage opress x reader #savage fluff #savage opress #savage #swtcw au #star wars #force sensitivity #force sensitive reader #stranded #swtcw #fluff #x reader

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ladydarklord · 3 years

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The Mighty Boosh on the business of being silly

The Times, November 15 2008

What began as a cult cocktail of daft poems, surreal characters and fantastical storylines has turned into the comedy juggernaut that is the Mighty Boosh. Janice Turner hangs out with creators Noel Fielding, Julian Barratt and the extended Boosh family to discuss the serious business of being silly

In the thin drizzle of a Monday night in Sheffield, a crowd of young women are waiting for the Mighty Boosh or, more precisely, one half of it. Big-boned Yorkshire lasses, jacketless and unshivering despite the autumn nip, they look ready to devour the object of their desire, the fey, androgynous Noel Fielding, if he puts a lamé boot outside the stage door. “Ooh, I do love a man in eyeliner,” sighs Natalie from Rotherham. She’ll be throwing sickies at work to see the Boosh show 13 times on their tour, plus attend the Boosh after-show parties and Boosh book signings. “My life is dead dull without them,” she says.

Nearby, mobiles primed, a pair of sixth-formers trade favourite Boosh lines. “What is your name?” asks Jessica. “I go by many names, sir,” Victoria replies portentously. A prison warden called Davena survives long days with high-security villains intoning, “It’s an outrage!” in the gravelly voice of Boosh character Tony Harrison, a being whose head is a testicle.

Apart from Fielding, what they all love most about the Boosh is that half their mates don’t get it. They see a bloke in a gorilla suit, a shaman called Naboo, silly rhymes about soup, stories involving shipwrecked men seducing coconuts “and they’re like, ‘This is bloody rubbish,’” says Jessica. “So you feel special because you do get it. You’re part of a club.”

Except the Mighty Boosh club is now more like a movement. What began as an Edinburgh fringe show starring Fielding and his partner Julian Barratt and later became an obscure BBC3 series has grown into a box-set flogging, mega-merchandising, 80-date touring Boosh inc. There was a Boosh festival last summer, now talk of a Boosh movie and Boosh in America. An impasse seems to have been reached: either the Boosh will expand globally or, like other mass comedy cults before it – Vic and Bob, Newman and Baddiel – slowly begin to deflate.

But for the moment, the fans still wait in the rain for heroes who’ve already left the building. I find the Boosh gang gathered in their hotel bar, high on post-gig adrenalin. Barratt, blokishly handsome with his ring-master moustache, if a tad paunchy these days, blends in with the crew. But Fielding is never truly “off”. All day he has been channelling A Clockwork Orange in thick black eyeliner (now smudged into panda rings) and a bowler hat, which he wears with polka-dot leggings, gold boots and a long, neon-green fur-collared PVC trenchcoat. He has, as those women outside put it, “something about him”: a carefully-wrought rock-god danger mixed with an amiable sweetness. Sexy yet approachable. Which is why, perched on a barstool, is a great slab of security called Danny.

“He stops people getting in our faces,” says Fielding. “He does massive stars like P. Diddy and Madonna and he says that considering how we’re viewed in the media as a cult phenomenon, we get much more attention in the street than, say, Girls Aloud. Danny says we’re on the same level as Russell Brand, who can’t walk from the door to the car without ten people speaking to him.”

This barometer of fame appears to fascinate and thrill Fielding. Although he complains he can’t eat dinner with his girlfriend (Dee Plume from the band Robots in Disguise) unmolested, he parties hard and publicly with paparazzi-magnets like Courtney Love and Amy Winehouse. He claims he’s tried wearing a baseball cap but fans still recognise him. Hearing this, Julian Barratt smiles wryly: “Noel is never going to dress down.”

It is clear on meeting them that their Boosh characters Vince Noir (Fielding), the narcissistic extrovert, and Howard Moon (Barratt), the serious, socially awkward jazz obsessive, are comic exaggerations of their own personalities. At the afternoon photo shoot, Fielding breaks free of the hair and make-up lady, sprays most of a can of Elnett on to his Bolan feather-cut and teases it to his satisfaction. Very Vince. “It is an art-life crossover,” says Barratt.

At 40, five years older than Fielding, Barratt exhibits the profound weariness of a man trying to balance a five-month national tour with new-fatherhood. After every Saturday night show he returns home to his 18-month-old twins, Arthur and Walter, and his partner Julia Davis (the creator-star of Nighty Night) and today he was up at 5am pushing a pram on Hampstead Heath before taking the train north to rejoin the Boosh. “I go back so the boys remember who I am. But it’s harder to leave them every time,” he says. “It is totally schizophrenic, totally opposite mental states: all this self-obsession and then them.”

About two nights a week on tour, Fielding doesn’t go to bed, parties through the night and performs the next evening having not slept at all. Barratt often retreats to his room to plough through box sets of The Wire. “It’s a bit gritty, but that is in itself an escape, because what we do is so fantastical.”

But mostly it is hard to resist the instant party provided by a large cast, crew and band. Indeed, drinking with them, it appears Fielding and Barratt are but the most famous members of a close collective of artists, musicians and old mates. Fielding’s brother Michael, who previously worked in a bowling alley, plays Naboo the shaman. “He is late every single day,” complains Noel. “He’s mad and useless, but I’m quite protective of him, quite parental.” Michael is always arguing with Bollo the gorilla, aka Fielding’s best mate, Dave Brown, a graphic artist relieved to remove his costume – “It’s so hot in there I fear I may never father children” – to design the Boosh book. One of the lighting crew worked as male nanny to Barratt’s twins and was in Michael’s class at school: “The first time I met you,” he says to Noel, “you gave me a dead arm.” “You were 9,” Fielding replies. “And you were messing with my stuff.”

This gang aren’t hangers-on but the wellspring of the Boosh’s originality and its strange, homespun, degree-show aesthetic: a character called Mr Susan is made out of chamois leathers, the Hitcher has a giant Polo Mint for an eye. When they need a tour poster they ignore the promoter’s suggestions and call in their old mate, Nige.

Fielding and Barratt met ten years ago at a comedy night in a North London pub. The former had just left Croydon Art College, the latter had dropped out of an American Studies degree at Reading to try stand-up, although he was so terrified at his first gig that he ran off stage and had to be dragged back by the compere.

While superficially different, their childhoods have a common theme: both had artistic, bohemian parents who exercised benign neglect. Fielding’s folks were only 17 when he was born: “They were just kids really. Hippies. Though more into Black Sabbath and Led Zep. There were lots of parties and crazy times. They loved dressing up. And there was a big gap between me and my brother – about nine years – so I was an only child for a long time, hanging out with them, lots of weird stuff going on.

“The great thing about my mum and dad is they let me do anything I wanted as a kid as long as I wasn’t misbehaving. I could eat and go to bed when I liked. I used to spend a lot of time drawing and painting and reading. In my own world, I guess.”

Growing up in Mitcham, South London, his father was a postmaster, while his mother now works for the Home Office. Work was merely the means to fund a good time. “When your dad is into David Bowie, how do you rebel against that? You can’t really. They come to all the gigs. They’ve been in America for the past three weeks. I’m ringing my mum really excited because we’re hanging out with Jim Sheridan, who directed In the Name of the Father, and the Edge from U2, and she said, ‘We’re hanging with Jack White,’ whom they met through a friend of mine. Trumped again!”

Barratt’s father was a Leeds art teacher, his mother an artist later turned businesswoman. “Dad was a bit more strict and academic. Mum would let me do anything I wanted, didn’t mind whether I went to school.” Through his father he became obsessed with Monty Python, went to jazz and Spike Milligan gigs, learnt about sex from his dad’s leatherbound volumes of Penthouse.

Barratt joined bands and assumed he would become a musician (he does all the Boosh’s musical arrangements); Fielding hoped to become an artist (he designed the Boosh book cover and throughout our interview sketches obsessively). Instead they threw their talents into comedy. Barratt: “It is a great means of getting your ideas over instantly.” Fielding: “Yes, it is quite punk in that way.”

Their 1998 Edinburgh Fringe show called The Mighty Boosh was named, obscurely, after a friend’s description of Michael Fielding’s huge childhood Afro: “A mighty bush.” While their double-act banter has an old-fashioned dynamic, redolent of Morecambe and Wise, the show threw in weird characters and a fantasy storyline in which they played a pair of zookeepers. They are very serious about their influences. “Magritte, Rousseau...” says Fielding. “I like Rousseau’s made-up worlds: his jungle has all the things you’d want in a jungle, even though he’d never been in one so it was an imaginary place.”

Eclectic, weird and, crucially, unprepared to compromise their aesthetic sensibilities, it was 2004 before, championed by Steve Coogan’s Baby Cow production company, their first series aired on BBC3. Through repeats and DVD sales the second series, in which the pair have left the zoo and are living above Naboo’s shop, found a bigger audience. Last year the first episode of series three had one million viewers. But perhaps the Boosh’s true breakthrough into mainstream came in June when George Bush visited Belfast and a child presented him with a plant labelled “The Mighty Bush”. Assuming it was a tribute to his greatness, the president proudly displayed it for the cameras, while the rest of Britain tittered.

A Boosh audience these days is quite a mix. In Sheffield the front row is rammed with teenage indie girls, heavy on the eyeliner, who fancy Fielding. But there are children, too: my own sons can recite whole “crimps” (the Boosh’s silly, very English version of rap) word for word. And there are older, respectable types who, when I interview them, all apologise for having such boring jobs. They’re accountants, IT workers, human resources officers and civil servants. But probe deeper and you find ten years ago they excelled at art A level or played in a band, and now puzzle how their lives turned out so square. For them, the Boosh embody their former dreams. And their DIY comedy, shambolic air, the slightly crap costumes, the melding of fantasy with the everyday, feels like something they could still knock up at home.

Indeed, many fans come to gigs in costume. At the Mighty Boosh Festival 15,000 people came dressed up to watch bands and absurdity in a Kent field. And in Sheffield I meet a father-and-son combo dressed as Howard Moon and Bob Fossil – general manager of the zoo – plus a gang of thirty-something parents elaborately attired as Crack Fox, Spirit of Jazz, a granny called Nanageddon, and Amy Housemouse. “I love the Boosh because it’s total escapism,” says Laura Hargreaves, an employment manager dressed as an Electro Fairy. “It’s not all perfect and people these days worry too much that things aren’t perfect. It’s just pure fun.”

But how to retain that appealingly amateur art-school quality now that the Boosh is a mega comedy brand? Noel Fielding is adamant that they haven’t grown cynical, that The Mighty Book of Boosh was a long-term project, not a money-spinner chucked out for Christmas: “There is a lot of heart in what we do,” he says. Barratt adds: “It’s been hard this year to do everything we’ve wanted, to a standard we’re proud of... Which is why we’re worn to shreds.”

Comedy is most powerful in intimate spaces, but the Boosh show, with its huge set, requires major venues. “We’ve lost money every day on the tour,” says Fielding. “The crew and the props and what it costs to take them on the road – it’s ridiculous. Small gigs would lose millions of pounds.”

The live show is a kind of Mighty Boosh panto, with old favourites – Bob Fossil, Bollo, Tony Harrison, etc – coming on to cheers of recognition. But it lacks the escapism to the perfectly conceived world of the TV show. They have told the BBC they don’t want a fourth series: they want a movie. They would also, as with Little Britain USA, like a crack at the States, where they run on BBC America. Clearly the Boosh needs to keep evolving or it will die.

Already other artists are telling Fielding and Barratt to make their money now: “They say this is our time, which is quite frightening.” I recall Vic Reeves and Bob Mortimer, who dominated the Nineties with Big Night Out and Shooting Stars. “Yes, they were massive,” says Fielding. “A number one record...” And now Reeves presents Brainiac. “If you have longer-term goals, it’s not scary,” says Barratt. “To me, I’m heading somewhere else – to direct, make films, write stuff – and at the moment it’s all gone mental. I’m sort of enjoying this as an outsider. It was Noel who had this desire to reach more people.”

Indeed, the old cliché that comedy is the new rock’n’roll is closest to being realised in Noel Fielding. Watching him perform the thrash metal numbers in the Boosh live show, he is half ironic comic performer, half frustrated rock god. His heroes weren’t comics but androgynous musicians: Jagger, Bowie, Syd Barrett. (Although he liked Peter Cook’s style and looks.)

“I like clothes and make-up, I like the transformation,” he says. Does it puzzle him that women find this so sexually attractive? “I was reading a book the other day about the New York Dolls and David Johansen was saying that none of them were gay or even bisexual, and that when they started dressing in stilettos and leather pants, women got it straight away with no explanation. But a lot of men had problems. It’s one of those strange things. A man will go, ‘You f***ing queer.’ And you just think, ‘Well, your girlfriend fancies me.’”

The Boosh stopped signing autographs outside stage doors when it started taking two hours a night. At recent book signings up to 1,500 people have shown up, some sleeping overnight in the queue. And on this tour, the Boosh took control of the after-show parties, once run as money-spinners by the promoters, and now show up in person to do DJ slots. I ask if they like to meet their fans, and they laugh nervously.

Fielding: “We have to be behind a fence.”

Barratt: “They try to rip your clothes off your body.”

Fielding: “The other day my girlfriend gave me this ring. And, doing the rock numbers at the end, I held out my hands and the crowd just ripped it off.”

Barratt: “I see it as a thing which is going to go away. A moment when people are really excited about you. And it can’t last.”

He recalls a man in York grabbing him for a photo, saying, “I’d love to be you, it must be so amazing.” And Barratt says he thought, “Yes, it is. But all the while I was trying to duck into this doorway to avoid the next person.” He’s trying to enjoy the Boosh’s moment, knows it will pass, but all the same?

In the hotel bar, a young woman fan has dodged past Danny and comes brazenly over to Fielding. Head cocked attentively like a glossy bird, he chats, signs various items, submits to photos, speaks to her mate on her phone. The rest of the Boosh crew eye her steelily. They know how it will end. “You have five minutes then you go,” hisses one. “I feel really stupid now,” says the girl. It is hard not to squirm at the awful obeisance of fandom. But still she milks the encounter, demands Fielding come outside to meet her friend. When he demurs she is outraged, and Danny intercedes. Fielding returns to his seat slightly unsettled. “What more does she want?” he mutters, reaching for his wine glass. “A skin sample?”

#I hadn't seen this one before so I thought I'd share #noel will never dress down #ah yes the patient boyfriend Julian Barratt

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shadowdianne · 3 years

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A friend who is actually starting to write her own book sent me a little thing back at instagram which was a cute version of inktober. For each day of august a prompt of word. She asked me to do it with her, as a way of making her write even a short paragraph each day and motivate her. I said yes, but since I'm quite the overachiever I did all previous days plus today and my plan is to do them all now that I'm up to date with the ones I was "supposed" to have done. Anyway, the rules we set for this were no tailoring afterward, no editing, and a max of 15 lines. It's not fanfic but if anyone wants to read them...

1.- Circle

The grass was dry beneath their feet as they moved, the nighttime air filled with the chants of those who hold the candles as they moved, shadows undulating, changing, as they rose their arms. However, If anyone would have dared to peek from beyond the trees that surrounded the clearing, they would have only seen the blue formations of the will-o-wisps as they moved and created the never-ending circle and yet, however, if any bystander clever enough, magical enough, interested enough, would have kept on watching, battling against the feeling of being watched that would have crept out on their back, they would have seen the figures, the lights, form and change and transform until the will-o-wisps were gone and, on their wake, the circle would have led to the wings of those departed, waiting for their time to come so they could traverse to the place beyond.

2.- Changeling

Their eyes are never the right color, their mouths form words no-one should speak outload, they teach us to never share our meals, our names with them, for they do not belong to us anymore that they do belong to what lies beyond the veil that permeates magic and secrets. Their souls were sold, way beyond they were formed, even if they wear lead and silver like any mortal would. They can touch salt, and eat it as well, but their redemption lies beyond the crosses and symbols of the religion that they were brought up into. You can make deals with them, they teach us, you can peer into those eyes and try not to lose yourself if you are willing, but remember that their bodies are borrowings, copies of imperfect molds. They exist and they can bring gifts, for they can step into said veil, but there’s nothing that will make them human, or mortal, even if they think of themselves as such.

3.-Lottery

The numbers bled ink onto her palm as she brought it closer to her eyes, the rain around her turning ice-cold as she tried to peer beyond it. The air freezing as she rose her free hand and moved a few stray hairs out of her eyes. She could feel the chill on her back and neck, the razor sting of the water turning to hail. “Is someone there?” She wanted to ask, the silhouette she had seen -she had thought she had seen- walking down the road now nowhere to be found. The lottery ticket kept flapping against the wind, the numbers beginning to smear as she brought it closer to her chest. Numbers, she would soon find out when she entered into one of the few shops down her street that would take it, that changed with notable pace. There was never a wrong one, she would realize, for each number would always be the correct one, would always give the answer that would need to be given in order to win. Then, she would ask, why the ticket was also stained with blood?

4.-Officiate

The bold man rose his arms and looked at us with a grave look, the shadows within the chapel seeming to grow and wreathe as we all stood, waiting. There was very little to do, beyond keeping up with his stare as he repeated the old mantra I’ve known by heart for longer than my years would have said. I let my mind wander when he didn’t stare at me, trying to catch the sins off our memories, the reason why we have been brought up here. I looked at the stained glass at his back, at the stories that were told with jaded crystals that our memories had conjured. With each night, the stained glass seemed brighter, our souls, according to him, purer. And yet, I felt light-headed, weak, as my eyes were captured once more, distant screams scurrying through the floor as we fell, knees first. Again, and again, and again.

5.-Enchant

He eyed the pendant that hung from between their intertwined fingers, the jewel encased in the middle of the brass and silver lines glinting under the electric light that hung above them. He was still able to taste the wine he had consumed a few minutes prior, the tanginess of it, the way it had stained his teeth. The light within the pendant glowed stronger as it beckoned them, their breath halting and then speeding up as their feet rose from carpeted floors, the wood panels that covered the room’s walls seemingly to throb as they kept on grabbing the pendant, the magic, scribbled beyond the details the artisan had created for them both. “A promise trapped in glass” The old man has whispered as he had given it to him. “A secret written within it.” He had replied, the words strange but expected, such was the way of the saying. He now was able to fear the heat radiating from the pendant, the magic, and he knew he had been lied to.

6.-Science

Beakers tinkled as she looked around the room, the papers, scattered around the body, the last strength of the dead man’s hand thrown over one small portion of white paper that was now marred with words she wasn’t able to understand. The inspector knelt next to the body, not bothering to check the man’s pulse as she knew him dead; the trail of blood pooling on his back enough proof of that, alongside with the scalpel, the broken pieces, of what could have been his latest experiment. Outside, beyond the sea of voices so normal in an investigation site, she could almost listen to the crows she had seen upon entering the building, their beaks open in a sempiternal smirk. She frowned and stood, fingers ironing her clothing reflexively as she took into the laboratory, the slight stench of fluids that had been spilled. And then she winced as her finger opened, sliced by one of the speckles of glass that covered her pants. Stupid, noob, she could listen to the scornful remarks others would tell her, if only the heat that now seemed to burn from her insides would end.

7.- Basket

It was sturdy, the old woman would often say when trying to sell the ones she made in front of her home, the porch worn and slanted but still giving her enough shade for her hands to work without breaking a sweat. It was sturdy and practical and all new-commers should buy one. What would you do, she would say with eyes so clouded they looked like the sky in a stormy day, with the things one was supposed to carry for long travels? What would you do with your food and waterskins? Where would you carry them? She would scoff at the words of those who politely told her that they had their backpacks. “They are not as reliable” She would reply, but she would shoo them away nevertheless, her interest depleted the moment they told her that they were supposed to go for the distant mountains, the ones that seemed blue from where they stood. She would insist more, sometimes, if they seemed hesitant to say not to her, toothless smile and quick tongue quickly lifting a few coins from their purses. It was sturdy, she would say to them, as she gave them the promised basket, the sigils woven into it blinking once, twice, beyond their eyes. She would smile then, promising them good travels, safe travels. She was rarely wrong.

8.- Ensnare

The gardener looked at yet another vine, sweat rolling down his brow, he could feel the dirt slowly resettling itself as he watched, the steps of the poor unfortunate who had ended up being trapped, ensnared, by the vines already beginning to disappear. There was very little he was able to do now, the body mangled beyond recognition, and so he brought a clean cloth and his sears and began the process of recollecting what little he was able to get, at least for the ones who had lost another family member, for the dead to be tolled, he didn’t quite hate his job, it paid well, as long as he himself kept away from the vines covering the mausoleum’s door. But there were days like this one, days in where the heat bothered and the vines were more playful than usual and their teeth nipped at his fingers, that he wondered about taking that final step, devoid of the protections the pendant around his neck gave him. If only to see if there was actually a way of getting lose from them all.

9.-Sky

Their wings fluttered, moved by the breeze that only they could see, and as the night covered everything in velvety black, the wings of the creatures grew in size, changing the sun with the moon, their eyes black holes that blossomed into galaxies only those keen eyed, where able to distinguish on the earth below. They danced around each other, the aurora borealis a stamp of colors their tails created their flight erratic for every night is different and every sky varies, even with the matted imperfections of their plumage -the constellations, those mortals would call them- The planets aligned as the sun disappeared, one last bite of fire hanging low on the horizon, and they kept on dancing, on transforming day to night, and then back and back again.

10.-Box

The box was engraved, numbers of family members so old it was difficult to remember them any longer. It was also covered in dirt, from the grave they had dug it up, their secrets locked away with a lock as well crafted as it was gorgeous; rust not seeming able to corrode the details of the metal parts that surrounded the names. Cold to the touch, permanently, it seemed to leave a thin layer of frost no matter what object it touched, and she bit down her bottom lip as she tried to remember the old nursery rhymes her grandmother used to sing to her, about the secrets she was supposed to inherit, the clues she was supposed to recall. Nothing, however, came forth, her own fingers felt cold and detached and her vision blurred and gone, the will-o-wisp lights that had seemed to grow stronger the last time she checked into the forest that surrounded the home coming closer and closer to her now, asking for a permission they didn’t need as her own soul had granted such.

11.- Catapult

He run, almost slipping over a pool of oil as the noise of the fighters and soldiers below reached him, the sweat on his brow getting heavier with every passing second. He had been tasked with one thing and one thing only: being a novice there was only so much he could do with a sword after all. And so, he run, run towards the catapults waiting outside the castle, beyond the riverbank. All the careful planning had been for naught as they had found a way into the place using the old catacombs, the ones in where numbers appeared written in blood, passages of a bible so cursed there were only a few that could remember the name of the book itself. He hadn’t dared to ask how the enemies had found a way in; the eyes full of fear of his sergeant had been telling enough. And so, he willed his legs to carry him further as he kept on descending the stairs, moving between bodies, and propelling himself in-between those who fought. He had one job and one job only and he needed to reach the riverbank. Or else.

12.-Ladder

The wood of the ladder splintered beneath her fingertips, but she didn’t pay any mind to the pain on her flesh. There was no point to it, after all, for everything she had tried lied dead at her feet, the eyes of the multitude stuck on her as she felt stricken by fear. She had been propped up the unlit bonfire, read her sins, what she had been accused off, and called forth a blessing from the mute skies. She had looked up then, narrowing her eyes as she searched for the birds that changed as the seasons did; she had been taught, instructed, to find those in the case she was found. Yet, nothing came forth on that starless night, not even when she began to feel the stench of fog and fire about to reach her feet. For that, for fear, she transported herself as far as her powers allowed her; to the silo next to the old road; the one in where Old Granny used to sell her baskets to those stupid enough to transverse to the mountains. The silo was closed now, rot settling in of what had been a small hut back when she had been a child, and so she had waited and waited for the screams outside to disappear, her legs around the end of the ladder, her arms, and hands clutching the top of it. A mere second longer, she thought, she prayed, and she would be able to escape, to flee, to those blue mountains she still could see on her mind’s eye.

13.-Carnivorous

The wolf is not evil, despite its large smile and piercing teeth, its tongue as red as the blood it consumes. The wolf is not evil but a warning, one created by the path that moves and curls around the forest, a way of keeping you focused and not dead. The wolf is not evil, it eats what you eat, it grows from what you learn. The wolf is not evil but a companion, one to listen to when you are traveling, hoping for the next curve of the trail to show the shadows of a town nearby. The wolf is not evil, but a guide, a mortal one, that can travel between what you know and what you definitely shouldn’t pry about. The wolf is not evil. Merely carnivorous.

#yes #they are connected #in a way #I'm creating a time line on the go but I plan to have something done by the end of the month that you can follow through if you read them #aughost

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stragglewort · 4 years

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Tales of Waterdeep: The Chained Madness - Heteroclite, Heterodox, Hklinein

Picture by ArtBreeder - “Heteroclite’s Eye” - https://www.artbreeder.com/i?k=850faba632d420dd93c621b4783a

TW: Near death, non-sexual (but non-consensual) touching, fear, memory loss, quite a lot of hands

There’s a tiefling in Waterdeep - Illistar Motts, a charming weaver with a slow, country-drawl. You can never find him in one place, always bouncing around the city selling his tapestries, fabrics, and dyes wherever he’s allowed to park his wagon for the night. But Illistar, though he’s never been seen with a partner, doesn’t travel alone. Not anymore, at least. No, he has a friend that he met some time ago, in some place deep in the ground - though this being acts much less like a friend, and much more like a... patron.

Labyrinthine. Of course they’d gotten lost, the warning was written in the name itself. Illistar didn’t even know why they’d – no – why he’d come in the first place. His original intentions had long left his memory.

“It’s gotten us trapped.” Uday coughed, her words barely whispering above the air as Illistar pulled her closer, shushing her. There was a bolt lodged in her chest, something old and wild that must’ve been sitting in those trapped walls for a millennium, carving a wound that spilled the life out of her in a steady trickle. He had one in his back, and another that’d gotten stuck into his side, and he was pretty sure one had almost gotten him dead in the skull – but none of those were quite as bad as the woman’s pierced lung.

“Don’t worry yourself now, I – I’ll find us a way out of here.” He looked around as he said this, though he didn’t trust that he was telling her the truth. The room was tepid, old, and untouched – if the circumstances had been better, the two would’ve been excited to find it.

They’d come in with an expedition party. Just some mercenaries and a mapmaker setting out to turn old stone hallways into paper and ink. But at some point, they’d all gotten split up. Markus, Aaylon, and Willowberry went one direction while he and Uday got pushed down a pit, trapped behind bars, and in their (attempted) escape, flung into some maze of mold and musk. Trapped in this labyrinth at the center of the world that seemed to be built with the sole purpose of making lost or killing anything with the misfortune to exist anywhere around it.

It was doing a great job.

Even with his eyes, magical in nature, attuned to see in pitch black as if it were the middle of the day – he was practically blind. That was new, and it scared him. He’d never been in actual darkness. Something about the horns on his head and hooves where feet should’ve been implied an infernal heritage that was supposed to thrive in places like this. But he sat there, losing his breath while sitting still, propped up in a corner with his ever-optimistic friend draped over his legs. She held on like she didn’t even realize she was dying. Suppose one could say he was doing the same thing.

Where had they even come from? Of all places they could’ve gotten stuck, it had to be a maze. The one place where short term memory – his worst attribute – was key. It was only after what felt like ages of dragging themselves through trapped, winding corridors that stretched for some unspecified eternity that they’d finally ended up collapsing in the corner. He looked to one side, the other, looked up, down, behind him, and found it was all as empty as it was silent.

The quiet was going to drive him insane – topically so.

His mind vied for the smallest sound. It took the distant scrape of mechanical traps, the dripping of underground water, and made it a whisper, a voice, a hope. They needed that hope, and between the blood loss and the head trauma couldn’t piece together how to find it.

It was suffocating; the hands of silent darkness wrapped around his neck and practically choked him –

“Please –“ He meant to yell but was stuck instead with hoarse whispers that scathed off the walls. There was no way he’d manage to make himself any louder, and there was no asking Uday for help. She was barely hanging on as it was.

But the tricky thing is that sometimes when you call out to nothing, it might decide to answer back.

He leaned against the stone and almost felt a sob rise in this throat, a last cry of exhausted effort, before out of the corner of his eye he saw… pink.

Thinner than blood but thicker than water, this light seemed to trickle out of the pores of the stone chiseling. It was faint, barely noticeable, but odd enough that he couldn’t take his eyes off it as it filled the crevices like watercolor. He lifted a tremoring hand to the wall and touched the illuminated carvings. He jolted, though, when the pink filtered off onto the pads of his fingers in a thin, nothing film. It was like he’d been stained with light itself, a dully mellow purple glowing faintly over his grey skin. In the odd glow that swirled like water and oil with the blood on his hands, he could finally see the wall and its odd stone-carved decoration. It didn’t have any rhyme or reason – just lines and patterns woven into each other like a river turned bright. “…Obaya, are you seeing –?” He shook her, but she didn’t respond. She was breathing, but every gasp was shallow, thin, and whispering as if she could barely lift her chest enough to take them. He wasn’t running too hot himself, but feeling her get heavier by the second. Every second. It rekindled those fluttering sparks of panic he thought he was too tired to feel. She was a good friend, a great woman, let alone a fantastic cleric when she’s not the one needing healed. He had to get them out of there or they’d both die. “Alright then... if you’re showing me a way out, I’m counting on you – yeah?” He asked no one in particular, calling out with no intention of staying hidden.

The glow on the wall, the swirling pinks and purples, only seemed to flow faster out in some odd direction.

Even if he thought following the strange, nearly hallucinatory light was a poor idea, it beat having none at all. Not to mention he would be lying if he said he wasn’t desperate. As far as knew, that light might’ve been a literal godsend; Uday was a cleric, maybe her god was taking pity on them. Who was he to deny a blessing?

He struggled onto his hooves for a moment, staggering against the wall only to get more of that pink, glowing light dappled on his skin. Once he was balanced, he hoisted Obaya over his shoulders, pain striking through his side with the new weight. But he threw the feeling to the wayside – gritting his teeth, biting his tongue, and stifling his aching joints to the back of his mind. If he could walk, he could carry; at least until reality caught up to him. As he struggled down the corridor the lights guided him, seeping through the wall in patterns that he knew couldn’t have been carved into stone. It led them in whatever direction it felt they needed to go, while darkening the way back. Following this magic, whoever it belonged to, would be a commitment. There was no chance he would manage to retrace his steps, even if he thought it would do any good. As the maze got tighter, the walls narrowing around them, something like dread boiled in the pit of his stomach. It was heavy, in contrast to the fluttering lightness that grew in his mind. He’d been frightened before, been terrified and nervous, and he had assumed he was just feeling it all again. But that, whatever was churning in the pit of his soul was nothing like the fear he’d felt at any other point in his life. It wasn’t even fear as he could place it. He was afraid of what could happen to him and his friend, but was uncontrollably confused otherwise. Completely muddled by the world they’d fallen into. It was just stone and magic, like every other dungeon or ruin this side of existence, but something about it was changing and he could feel it in the air. Like fingers dancing lightly across his skin. What he was feeling as the light led them further into the dark was unavoidable but agile, heavy and baffling.

“Where are we going?” He called out, hoarsely. As the light dragged them slowly but surely through the labyrinth, he could feel himself starting to drop. No amount of magically projected determination can fight with a failing heart and what had to be poisoned arrows. Did you want people to come in or stay out? He thought, wondering what the use of a guide was in a maze littered with traps. Coincidentally, they hadn’t stumbled over a single one since they started following it. Maybe it really was his friend’s god; in that case, he made a note to speak with her temple if they made it out in any semblance of alive.

The sound of his hooves cracking against the cold stone became muddy as his hearing started to fade. For a moment he could’ve convinced himself that the light was, in fact, not a helpful guide through some underground death trap. But that it was something of a hallucination created by a poisoned, dying mind. That certainly would’ve been the thought if not for the cold of the next room, something finally different from the winding endlessness of the maze, that rushed over him in a wave. The passages had been so narrow, the void openness of the chamber felt infinite in comparison. Though squinting, the farthest wall could be seen from a distance in the dim, pinkish hue that enveloped the room with no clear source. He raised his eyes to the new ceiling and saw… nothing. So much nothing that he didn’t realize he’d tripped over a shallow threshold until his chin hit the stone with hollow thud, Uday tumbling from his grasp into the dark.

It took a second of rattled incoherence before he could speak again – “Obaya? Are you alright –?” He called out, not expecting a response but hopeful for a miracle.

“You’re not supposed to be here. I thought those mages made it very clear I was never supposed to be found.” A soft, quiet voice called out in response. It echoed off the dim walls in such a way that it seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once. He was almost relieved, but realized all too quickly that it sounded nothing like the deeply kind voice of his friend. It was masculine; breathy and light but with this drone of tiredness that carried over the darkness. “This is no fun place to die.”

“…I – pardon me?” He called out to the stranger as he struggled to lift himself from the cold stone. One hand pushing and the other feeling around for any sign of Uday.

“I’m certain there’s better graves on this plane to lay yourselves into.” The voice cracked into a low, muttering chuckle. “Come to me, will you? I want to know whose corpse I’ll be smelling for the next… oh, eleven years. Twelve if it doesn’t get too damp.” With that, those pinkish watercolor lights filtered into the room from every direction. They snaked through the faint cracks in the stone, filling them like a dam-broken into a drought-ridden river. With his hands planted shakily on the ground he could feel the light properly; it was freezing. The tendrils of color wound to the center in pulsating, pastel waves. The figure was illuminated with every strike of pink and white. It was humanoid but radiated this inhuman presence that stifled the room in a light, panicky fog. It sat slumped over its legs with long, spindly arms pulled behind it. Its face stayed turned to the ground as it spoke; long, unkempt strands of hair running in tangles over its bare shoulders and down its back. In the slim cascades of tinted light – purples, blues, and pinks now washing over the walls – it was impossible to tell the color of any one thing on its body. As Illistar peered through the light, trying to determine if the figure in front of him was real or some poisoned hallucination, he realized it was more than some kneeling man with an odd choice of seating – it was bound to the center of the room. Its form propped up, just a few inches, from the floor on a sharply carved pedestal that raised it into a series of chains. They were dull and old, black at the farthest points on the walls but turning white the closer to figure they got – as if absorbing every magical ray of color it created. The links of metal shot in every direction off the kneeling form. From the traps around its wrist, the collar around its neck, to the largest clamped firmly around its waist – linked with dozens of short chains that drove it further in the ground – it sat there in a mess of tightly bound cable and rope. A prisoner in technicolor water.

“Wha – who are you?” Illistar pulled himself forward by the long of his arm, dragging himself in slow, aimless drawls.

“That’s a loaded question, friend.” The voice was harsher now. Though he knew who was speaking, its source was still impossible to place. The bound figure’s very presence was maddening, heart-breaking, but like any good tragedy impossible to pull away from. “I am quite a lot of things.” With that it raised his face. Illistar winced as their eyes met. Between long, tangled strands of pale pink hair sat a glare of bright, glowing gold. Full, oddly dark lips – like that of a corpse – were churned into a tired grin.

“I’m dying; you’re not real.” The poor man gasped, trying to make sense of the simple impossibility of what he was staring at.

“I should be flattered. I’m told you people only see true beauty at the brink of death.” That soft laugh rang off the walls again. It was soft but booming – all-encompassing. As Illistar tried to watch its mouth he couldn’t tell if it was the thing itself, the warbling light, or his own fading vision that staggered the words away from the movement of its lips. But the words seemed to reach him three beats after the stranger appeared of have said them. “Don’t worry. I’m not real, but I’m exceptionally good at pretending to be.” A pause, doubled. “Come closer.”

“Where are we?” He cringed as he, near-involuntarily, dragged himself more to the middle of the room. Where that film of pink, dappled light stained his skin he could almost feel the pads of fingertips tugging at him, pulling him forward in an incoherent urge. He followed the pull of those scattered lights mixed with the draw of the stranger’s golden stare and tired, broken smile. “Wh – what are you?”

“We’re in a prison, here in the core of your material plane.” It said coolly. “And I am its prisoner.”

Illistar was asking questions but only half paying attention to the answers. In all honestly, he was barely convinced any of it was real. “Obaya? Where are you?” He called out, but the noise of his words got stifled in his throat – as if the air itself pushed the question back into his lungs.

“Don’t worry about her – she’s… dying.” It hummed, thoughtfully. The colored light in the room got brighter, and in the distance he could just barely see the shadowed outline of his friend laying in a stained bundle of cloth. Her form overtaken by the technicolor lights. Its head lulled before falling back into a hanging slump. “But aren’t you all?”

“What about you?” He coughed.

“No… not me.” It answered, softly. “That’s no pleasure of mine. You need to be real to die.”

Illistar was then about an arm’s reach from the pedestal the thing was chained to. Being so close he could feel this aura of excitement radiate off its wry figure – but his vision was fading quickly, and his strength with it.

“But you’re not looking too well, friend.” It cooed, the rattling of its chains echoing off the stone. It sounded like it was trying to move, but to where and for what reason, Illistar wasn’t in the state to place.

“How do we…” The sentence trailed off in a breathless murmur, hollow and weak as he tried to work his tongue around the syllables. “Tell us how to get out of here.”

The stranger sounded surprised. “I assumed you’d already decided – death’s an easy out.”

“I’m not letting us… we’re not going to die. Tell me how to get out of here.” He pushed himself up to the pedestal, his hooves clacking against the stone in his struggle. His desperation seeped through the question – who else would ask a prisoner for their escape plan? His teeth began to chatter as his whole body started in a coldless tremble. He reached up to the lip of the pedestal and the figure – in a slurry of heavy metallic clacking – tried to move towards him but was held firmly in place by its bindings. He looked up into its eyes, their faces now inches from each other, and he suddenly felt as if he were falling into them while standing still. If the thing staring back at him were some abstract figment of reality, it couldn’t have been from his own. Its glare was otherworldly – bright yellow with flecks of gold in what might’ve been an iris. It was impossible in that moment to blink, let alone pull his face away from the figure’s gaze. It might’ve been chained to the pedestal, but he was trapped to it. So entirely enraptured by the stare he didn’t even notice the snakes of watercolor light that pulled from the ground, climbing up his legs.

“You really are dying.” The thing started with a short gasp that led into an even breathier chuckle.

“What are you?” There was this moment where Illistar had a sudden urge move the hair out of its face to get a better look, but something about touching the figure felt wrong. Not revolting, but like it shouldn’t be possible – like trying to spin water into yarn.

It tilted its head and Illistar couldn’t help but mimic. “How do I put this into your words?” It seemed to think for a moment, mulling over itself. “…I am the color of air, the wetness of a candle-flame. I hum to the tune of silence and touch the feeling of sound – I am a Heteroclite.”

Illistar couldn’t help but feel a pang of frustration through his charmed, enraptured fog. Even confused, he understood how little time he had to think over riddles. “A what?”

“A heteroclite – Heterodox – Hklinein to some in the north, Het'kelel to the south, a burden to those particularly good at making traps. Above all names, though, I am the promise that will save both your lives.” The chains around the figure rattled again as it shifted in place, tugging at its bindings.

That caught his attention. “You’re lying.”

“Why would I bother?” It hummed, its head lulling. “As we are now, you two will end up rotting on these chamber floors whether I’m telling the truth or not. And I’m the one who’s stuck with the maggots. Have some consideration for my time, you don’t have much of it.” It held out its words in a long, frustrated drawl. “There so much in this world to look at; imagine being stuck in the bottom of it!” Its voice boomed from every direction, filling Illistar’s ears with ringing laughter that echoed off the color of the walls.

“…What are you getting at, then?” He said, though it didn’t feel like his mouth was moving. He tried to turn his gaze to the room, to Obaya, but he realized that although the feeling of movement hit him – the action never came.

“I can blink between everywhere and nowhere at once – but I cannot do so here. I have a home but it’s so boring, I would almost prefer to spend my time stuck at the bottom of the material plane than float in that void of infinite nothing.” It sighed, wistfully. “In short – because you don’t have enough time for the long – I want the one thing I am forbidden to have.”

Illistar stumbled a bit, his elbow giving out under trembling weight. But something kept him upright, leaned against the thing’s pedestal. His breathing was suddenly very shallow, more than it had been before. He was dying, and it was rotting him from the inside.

Did you know rot doesn’t feel like much of anything?

“Take me with you.” Its voice was suddenly very quick – he almost didn’t catch it. Behind the words was a harsh metallic ratting that seemed to shake the world. He couldn’t tell, then, if it was the whole ruin that shattered under his stumbling hooves or just their center-corner of it. “My hands have eyes in all parts of this realm but how can I see everything if I’m only carried by some few? I am the whisper of madness, the breath of the clouds, and I’ve been locked – blinded – for far too long.”

“I don’t – I don’t understand –“ He had to move both his hands up to the stone to stay balanced – fingers grasping at random. Except as he pushed to stay awake he realized those weren’t his fingers, it wasn’t his grip that kept him floating on the stone.

“You don’t have to –“ It laugh was hopefully desperate. “Come closer. I can get you out of here – you just need to take me with you.”

“There’s no such thing…” He wasn’t sure exactly what he was trying to protest. No such thing of what? A free out – salvation at the cost of nothing? He was desperate, but his wasn’t the only life trapped in that prison. Present company not included. “What are you – gods – I’m just a weaver. I can’t…” He shook his head, trying to sort through the oddly incomprehensible words. He’d spoken Common his whole life, but it then felt like he had just started learning it. “I don’t have nothing for the likes of you.”

“You have legs and eyes.” Its own eyes seemed to look over Illistar like he was some cut of meat, a plated dish to be judged. “…And no sane being can get this this far with bolts lodged in its flesh like pin-needles, those mage’s poisons churning through their veins. Your cleric is of a sound mind, that’s why she’s dead. Friend, you have plenty for me.” He almost heard the sound of cracking as it wretched itself forward, bringing its face so close their noses could almost touch. He couldn’t tell, though, if it was the cracking of stone or bone. “I may be bound, but my hands weave through this land in a way that is impossible to bury – no matter how much stone, magic, or healing one might put me under. Even if you could leave this place without me, I’d already be within you – we might as well make it co-habitable.”

It was strange. As Illistar stared, trapped in its glowing eyes – looking over the thing’s ruddy face and calmly broken expression that contrasted its frantic words, he wasn’t scared. Everything from the darkening room to the fact that he was sure he wasn’t breathing anymore told him he should feel otherwise. Instead, as he brought his conscious eyes back to focus on the Heteroclite’s – he almost felt… warmth. It was pink. Maybe he was right – true beauty is only at the brink of death, because he had never seen anything so welcoming in his life. A way out – strange and chaotic – impossible to speak to – but kind. There wasn’t malice in the creature’s, the entity’s voice, just hope. Desperation and a want that he understood. What kind of hell was it being chained to the bottom of the world? What was this sudden feeling of finding exactly what he was looking for in a place he didn’t even know existed?

“And what about… Obaya? What are gonna’ do to her if you’re leaving with – ”

“Your friend? I’m madness, but I’m not evil –“ It started, as if explaining simple addition. “You’ll both survive, but she has no part in this. At the moment, she’s sane and dead. I can’t do anything with lifeless hands.”

Illistar wanted to be shocked, but was about to follow in the sentiment.

“Take me into your world, and I will give you the fragments of mine.” It hushed at the end, pursing its lips together for a moment. “I don’t even want your soul – just your legs to walk through, your eyes to see through, your tongue to taste, and your hands to feel. A piece of your mind, really. You won’t even realize I’m there.”

He waited just enough to recognize it had finished with idle words. It was his turn, his answer. “Alright –“ He coughed, his mouth suddenly dry and eyes fluttering under a new, heavy tiredness. Even if he believed this chained stranger was lying, what was the harm in grasping at heterodoxic straws? “Just help us.”

“This will be lots of fun.” The voice was scattered – as if he were hearing every letter individually, but still piecing it into a scrambled sentence that organized itself as it reached the left side of his brain. The man couldn’t tell if he fell forwards into the stranger, or backwards onto the stone. All he felt where the pads of fingertips – dozens, hundreds – that wrapped impossibly around him. Coming from the ground or the ceiling, he couldn’t tell. He opened his eyes, and then opened them again – and once more – before he could finally see. Where that film of light had dappled his skin, he could only see hands. Disembodied and clinging, each one colored in an impossible shades of… pink. Dead at the fingertips but grasping until he was drowning in them. It was at last moment before palms, less than one but more than two, covered his eyes that he could finally turn his face only to see that bundle of stained fabric – the slump of flesh that was his friend – engulfed by the same colorful flood.

They were both pulled into the floor.

###

“Ellie? Ellie, you’re alive?” A familiar voice shook him from a deep, unnatural sleep. “Come on, Ellie – wake up.”

“…Obaya?” He felt the word tumble listlessly from his lips. His fingers grasped at the ground and under them he could feel something cold, wet, and a little sharp. It took a moment before he realized he was pulling at grass and dirt. His eyes shot open only to meet the battered, but living, face of his friend. “You – you’re alright?”

“Wouldn’t you be the one to know?” She laughed, breathlessly – putting a hand over her chest where there had been a bolt lodged what felt like moments before. “How did you get us out of there? What happened?”

“I don’t –“ He stopped for a moment. He had an answer, at least some kind of answer, but he couldn’t tell if what had happened was real or some delusional dream. He looked up to the sky for a moment – it was morning. The sun barely peeked through the clouds and a cold mist drifted over his vision. “…Are the other’s okay?”

“They seem to be, but they haven’t woken up yet.” She looked out to the flat of grass around them, over it there were the unconscious bodies of his party. Mercenaries and a mapmaker scattered like their paper and ink on the ground. “…The entrance caved in.”

“What –?” He tried to sit up but winced, a sudden raging headache protesting the movement. He, much slower that time, turned his head to where he remembered the entrance of the cave being. She wasn’t lying – the mouth of the dungeon had turned into a mound. Dirt and stone dotted with bright flowers seemed to be the only evidence left of the labyrinth below.

“By Waukeen’s mercy, I can only hope they’ll wake up soon. How did you manage this?”

“Obaya?” He shook his head and lifted a hand so she could help him back to his hooves – something she quickly did. “Let’s get everyone awake, and then we’ll talk about whatever happened in there, alright?”

“…Sure.” She looked to him, worried. He was never the kind to keep his mouth shut. The obvious concern scrawled over her face. Between the worry, though, she seemed distracted. “Ellie, I do not mean to pry. But were your horns not yellow?”

“What do you mean?” He looked at her, confused, a little nervous that she might’ve hit her head amongst the other, more obvious injuries. “Course they are –“

“They’re pink, now.”

He froze, then raised a hand to the top of his head. But a different hand, it seemed, beat him to it.

39 notes · View notes

lastluvbug · 4 years

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Okay I've got another one! How do you think Leona, Vil, Rook, Idia and Malleus would react if their fem reader asked them to dress up as the beauty and the beast for Halloween BUT! She wants to be the fem!beast and them as the male! beauty. Will they agree? And how will they dress up? Thanks!

Is This My Trick? (Feat. Leona, Rook, Vil, Idia, and Malleus)

Rook Hunt-

How fun! You want to dress up as the beast to his beauty? He’d agree without a second thought, believing you to be beautiful no matter what you wear.

He’d sweep you into the bathroom, where you two would do the other’s makeup and hair, a sweet melody of compliments streaming from Rook’s lips as he played with your locks, and you his. Let’s say only one of you took the night seriously, and it wasn’t Rook.

You’d given him a wide smokey eye, blended with a little gold to flatter his hair color. For a little extra pop, you painted his lips with a clear gloss, and his cheeks with a fair anount of blush, making him look more princess-like than princely.

There wasn’t much you could with his hair, so you settled instead with curling it slightly, giving him waves instead of the pin straight bob everyone knew.

His outfit was fantastically flamboyant; an indigo colored overcoat with a tail that split into two ends, with matching colored trousers leading to black dress shoes. A vertically striped vest was beneath, covering a button up white dress shirt, a blood red bow tied around his neck.

“You’ll be almost as spectacular as Vil when I’m done!” He’d clap as soon as you were done marveling at him. And with that, he set to work.

He’d tease you mercilessly, throwing you for loop after loop as he sung little rhymes laced with complex adulation, just to turn around and lightly poke fun at you. At first, he painted on a cute little button nose over yours, with whiskers flaring out over your cheeks, biting his lip as he tried and failed to muffle his laughter at your shocked face.

Wiping it off, he’d truly go all out, giving you the face you desired after you shrugged on your dress.

It was so spot on, you almost questioned if he’d done something like this before. Your eyes had been framed in a dusty black eyeshadow, creased with white to bring out your elongated lashes. Your face had been shaped with blends of browns, blacks, and white, making your cheekbones and jawline appear sharper, the makeup around you nose connecting down to your lips in a V shape.

Your dress was almost as exquisite. Long sleeved with mesh gloves, it was an ombré of blue to black, coming to a soft v-neck across your chest that was half concealed with the same mesh as your gloves. The skirt was knee length, folding over itself to create the twirling look. And, to point out your waist, a thin black belt looped around you, the same color as your boots.

As soon as you were done thanking him and gushing over your makeup, Rook bowed as he laughed, extending a hand towards you.

“Your beauty far surpasses that of a beast, but just for the enchantment of the night, let us play the roles of prince and cursed princess! We shall sweep the crowds off their feet!”

Vil Schoenheit-

Excuse me? Did—Did he just hear you correctly? You want to dress as a beast for Halloween? No, absolutely not!

It doesn’t matter how much you beg or ask, his answer remains a solid no. He can’t afford to be unsightly, and neither can you. Though, he can’t help but feel bad when you disappointedly walk away, so he comes up with a compromise.

He’ll take your hand and lead you into his extremely large bathroom, and as soon as the perfumey smell hits your face, you know something is about to happen. “I can’t allow you to walk out of my dorm looking like a beast, but I can allow you this very special offer,” he’d say curtly, sitting down before his mirror, “only for tonight, you have permission to do what you please with my cosmetics. Do it well enough, and I’ll give you the opportunity to style my hair.” He’d grin, reaching for his makeup remover to give you a clean slate to work with.

You were ecstatic. Vil never let anyone into his room, let alone do his makeup! You eagerly set to work, using his brand name materials and trying to keep yourself from bursting.

It was a little insufferable, as Vil would criticize you ever two minutes over the way you held the eyeliner, and how hard you were pressing against his skin, and—oh, for the love of the queen, stop shaking!

At the end, he deemed it of passing quality before allowing you to style his hair, of which you accepted without question. You were quite proud of how it all turned out at the end, and honestly, you didn’t really care what Vil thought.

You’d given him a thick cat eye, using a black mascara to extend his lashes and bring out the highlight of the look; the golden eyeshadow. You’d picked up a few tricks here and there, and had executed a flawless glittery eyeshadow that blended into a dark crease, the vibrant color dotting the inner area while circling under the eye. You went plain with his hair, styling it into a sleek looped updo and letting down a few strands of hair to finish it off.

Vil was in charge of dressing himself, which he’d done prior to your little makeup adventure. He’d chosen to wear a jacket of stark white, a black silk button up shirt under and a frilly cravat tied around his neck. He’d slipped on a pair of lace cuffs, the thin mesh falling around his hands, similarly to the way his white trousers fell over his golden heels, risen a good five inches from the floor.

“Don’t worry dear, you’ll be the starlight bright princess to my prince soon.” He’d smile, raising your hand to his lips as you resisted the urge to kiss him right there.

He’d use a gross amount of pink shaded items, some for only a second, and others for what felt like an hour. Though, after all of the materials had been piled onto the countertops, he’d announce that he was finished, much to your delight.

You were astounded by his skill, though really, what did you expect? This is the Vil Schoenheit, anything below exceptional was an insult!

He’d used a rose gold eye shadow to color your eyelids, darker towards the outer ends before shading into a more salmon-esque color. He’d used the tip of his finger to dab on silvery glitter, emphasizing the natural sparkle in your orbs. Your lips were covered with a petal pink, matching your dress, which of course Vil had chosen specifically for you.

It was more of a ball gown than a costume, with a billowing ankle long skirt and a tightly fitted bodice, flowy sleeves falling around your arms while nature-esque embroidery was threaded into the torso. You looked close to a fairy, practically radiating glitter and light as you excitedly clung to Vil’s arm, thanking him up and down.

“Anything for my little forest flower. As my princess, I promise you to give you an evening that will be magically gorgeous.”

(Of course, he wouldn’t really do anything. He has to keep his skin baby soft, and that hair? Oh honey, you wouldn’t know the half of it.)

Idia Shroud-

He’d be against it at first. He really didn’t want to leave the comfort of his room, especially on Halloween, where there’d no doubt be a huge party just waiting to grow his anxiety ten times bigger than usual.

Seeing your expectant face paired with Ortho’s encouragement was what broke him, though he was reluctant to dress up. “Babe... do I have to...? Can’t we just stay here?” He’d uselessly try as you’d pull him into the bathroom, Ortho bouncing happily after.

Neither of you listened as Ortho went searching through Idia’s closet, looking for the clothes to suit the occasion, while you pulled out your makeup, both of you smiling wickedly as Idia sweat dropped.

One busy hour later, Idia stood self consciously in the mirror, inspecting himself as you and Ortho made the room glow with your smiles.

You’d given his eyes a cut crease look, using a metallic blue-blended-with-gold to compliment his hair, as well as hide the bags created from too many night stayed awake playing video games. You’d chosen a mauve lipstick to match, making his lips appear full and plump.

Ortho dressed his older brother magnificently; he chose a pair of high waisted tights that hugged his hips and calves, four golden buttons glinting off the light. His shirt was rather decorative, with a frilly collar and chest, the sleeves flowing over his pale skin before being trapped in the tight wrist cuffs.

“Hmm...looks nice. But I’m not going to be the only one doing this.” He’d grin, mischief written on every frame of his face.

Against all of your protests, Idia would refuse to allow you do your own makeup. He’d snag your pallets and anything else you brought, laughing out loud when you finally sagged in defeat. In short, it was a mess.

The dress you wore, probably the only thing that wouldn’t draw a laugh from onlookers, was plain black, with a fitted off-the-shouldered top and lacy sleeves that wrapped around your arms. The asymmetrical skirt fell down to your calves, before looping back up to reveal your legs as it stopped around mid thighs. Your midnight shoes lifted you about three inches, though you were still shorter than Idia.

Now you’re makeup... that was a completely different story. Since Idia had insisted, he gave you a cute little pink nose, a line of black leading down to your lips that were colored a dark red, black dots sprinkled across your cheeks as a set of three whiskers flared out across each one.

Idia made you a cat! A cat’s not a beast, at least not usually!! When you complained, all he did was laugh and drape his arms around your shoulders in a hug from behind.

“Sorry... I just painted you as you are. You’re too cute to be a beast... I love you for it though.”

Leona Kingscholar-

No. No no no no. Nuh uh. No way.

He’d honestly be a little offended by the question, though he’d be a dead man before he let you know that.

“Isn’t the trickery supposed to wait until later?” He’d nonchalantly ask, tail whipping in the air. He may be a royal lion, but dressing in those tight clothes was an absolute no-no. He was the beast here, he even had the ears to prove it.

It would be near impossible to convince him, but after enough of your wide eyed attempts, he’d eventually break, allowing you to waltz him into the bathroom so you could tame that wild mane and dress him however you pleased. It took a long, long while before you finished, but it all was worthwhile in the end.

The result was breathtaking, in your opinion. You managed to tie Leona’s hair into a half-up half-down style, embellished with a rose pin, a simple product threaded into his locks to create waves and curls instead of the frizz you were so used to.

He was stuffed into a yellow blazer over a long sleeved white dress shirt, the laced cuffs brushing over the middle of his palms. To compliment, a pair of black pants with a gold strip down each leg followed, black dress shoes finishing the getup.

“If it were anyone else, they’d be running for the hills right about now. Let’s see how beastly you can be, my little mouse.” He’d growl, clearly unamused by your laughter as you ran a hand down his arm.

Leona would stand by, watching curiously as you transformed yourself into the beast to pair with his beauty. After you finished, he’d quite literally be speechless, even more so blown away by your choice of dress.

The makeup wasn’t anything special, you just used a little bit of eyeliner and black facepaint to paint over your nose, dragging a slim trail to your lips, which were covered in black lipstick. You used darker browns to blend around your cheekbones, and made your eyes look a touch larger than they were with a risky cat eye that paid off in the end.

Your dress was magical, to say the least. Floor length, with silky fabrics of gold and blue twisted into elegant arched and loops over the gown, the bodice fitted and off-the-shoulder to expose your collar.

By the time you were done, you caught Leona’s intense stare, maybe a hint of a blush darkening his already tan cheeks. When you said something about he, he’d merely pout before taking your arm and pulling you close, so that his cologne and your perfume mixed into an entirely new scent.

“I don’t know if I’d call you a beast, my beautiful little herbivore. Let’s go, I’d like to show off all this work. And for the record... you better give me my treat later.”

Malleus Draconia-

Oh? You want to dress up as a beast? He’d done his fair share of research on this human tradition, and had wanted to try it out for an embarrassingly long time, so he had no problems agreeing.

He didn’t have much of a designer’s touch, so he watched with an intrigued grin as you excitedly ran around gathering your materials. “Careful, we don’t want to waste that energy before the party, do we?” He’d laugh, sitting on the chair you brought and allowing you to do your work.

He was a little jumpy, but by the end, it didn’t matter as he marveled at the outcome of your delicate work.

You’d expertly woven his thin black hair into a loose braided crown that fell around his horns, half of it still cascading down his shoulders and shining in the artificial light. His eyes were rimmed thinly with eyeliner, accentuated with a dark eyeshadow.

He was dressed in a deep blue overcoat, a white button down dress shirt underneath. Around his neck was a pristine white cravat, the ends laced with black, matching his dress pants and shoes. It was rather simplistic, but suited Malleus all too well compared to his usual attire.

“Stunning. I can’t say I’m upset with how you’ve pampered me, dearest. What ever shall you do next?” He’d grin in a closed eye smile, sitting patiently as you worked on yourself.

You worked diligently, applying so many different types of makeup that he’d become a little dizzy trying to wrap his head around the names and colors. When you were done, you hardly looked like the same person. You’d used an assortment of greys and browns to rim your face, two lines cutting down your cheeks to create pronounced cheekbones. You’d painted your eyes in a thick layer of black, shimmery silver blended up to your eyebrows and highlighting your irises. Your lips were a delicious fuschia, so bright against the rest of your face.

Your dress was immaculate, a single shouldered black-and white apparel. The sleeve was made of a thin line of black lace shaped like various flowers, snaking over the colorless bodice and skirt before rounding over the hem. It was rather short, ending just above mid thigh, a calf high pair of strappy boots at least five inches tall doing basically nothing to promote your height compared to Malleus.

When you gave him a little twirl as you put away your cosmetics, he let his eyes wander over his every part of you, thoroughly enjoying the temporary view.

“My, my... You’re truly a sight, dearest. Come, let’s show them all the beauty that will surely make history.”

There we are! Honestly, it was so fun designing all these clothes, except Rook’s. Sorry loves, I had no brain juice left and could only think of his Ghost Marriage outfit.

Thanks so much for reading, and thanks to @blackstrawberrynightmare for the ask! I hope you enjoyed!

Stay lovely!

#twisted wonderland #twst #fem reader #vil schoenheit #malleus draconia #leona kingscholar #rook hunt #idia shroud

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mrs-i-have-too-many-biases · 5 years

Text

Hwang Hyunjin// Happy Howlidays

Stray Kids Christmas Series

Scenario: “Parents are gone, but the dogs are still here. Maybe Christmas should be dog-themed this year? “ Genre: Fluff/ Humour Tropes: Already dating Pairing: non idol!Hwang Hyunjin X Reader Word count: 9,4K Warning: Fluff, Fluff and only Fluff. Hyunjin being dumb, we love him though. A/n: I know that it is January, but I still am going to finish this series.

“Okay, bags. Check. Drinks for the drive to the airport, check. Passports-“ “Mom calm down you have everything, you checked four times already.” You laughed as your mother kept checking her list. “I’m sorry dear, we’ve never gone with the four of us on vacation.” She sighs. “It’s okay, you should do it more often, it will be good for you.” “So that you and Hyunjin can be alone, I see how it is.” Hyunjin’s mother laughed.

Your boyfriend’s mother and yours had been friends for years. They grew up together and were close ever since they were kids. When they both got married, they had children, which were you and Hyunjin. The mothers used to joke how it would be cute if you and Hyunjin would date later. Through the years of you and Hyunjin being friend, in senior year, where you and Hyunjin would graduate together, he finally confessed his feelings to you which he had kept secret for years.

It was a quite emotional and cheesy moment. Hyunjin was, just like you who felt the same way towards him, scared that confessing feelings to you would ruin your friendship. Instead of it being ruined it was the start of something new. Hyunjin cried after you told him you felt the same way, he had burst out in tears because he was so nervous and scared that you just wouldn’t feel the same and that you would look at him differently and that things just wouldn’t be the same.

Your parents didn’t suspect a thing the first month of you and Hyunjin dating. It was at a dinner party at Hyunjin’s apartment where the two of you accidently revealed your relationship to your parents. He was seated next to you as you were eating together. “Baby can you pass me the water?” He asked without giving his choice of words a second thought. You all turned to Hyunjin in shock, making you almost choke on your food as you realised that he just did. “Baby?” His mother asked, making Hyunjin realise what he just said. He turned bright red and stuttered out gibberish as he tried to save himself, and you of course, from this awkward situation. “Are they dating? Really?” You mother squealed happily as she grabbed onto her best friend who was hysterically squealing as well.

“Maybe we should leave them for a while?” You said to your boyfriend whilst laughing at your parents state. The both of you were questioning your mothers’ sanity as they started to rant about whatever, you couldn’t follow. Your dads on the other hand just sat there in shock. “My little girl is dating.” Your dad started as it looked like he was about to slip into a crisis. His hands in his hair as well as he stared into nothingness. “My son is dating!” Hyunjin’s dad cheered, looking like the complete opposite of your dad, making you and Hyunjin wheeze. Your boyfriend’s dad came up to the both of you and hugged you, whilst the two of you still sat down, congratulating you.

It was a rollercoaster of a night, but you were just glad that your parents were supportive of your relationship. You dad eventually got over it as well, but he indeed had that ‘dad-talk’ with Hyunjin. He hadn’t had to add scary voices since he knew Hyunjin almost inside and out. He knew that Hyunjin grew up to be a kind young man and that he could trust him with his one and only daughter.

Your parents also gave you dogs around the same time. Hyunjin now had a little long-haired chihuahua named Kkami. Your parents gave you a little Pomeranian pup a year later after Hyunjin received Kkami. You were crazy about her, because not only was she small and fluffy, she was also crazy about Kkami. They also ended up to be best friends. As soon as you and Hyunjin realised that your dogs had such a close relationship like the two of you did, you started to go on dog-dates together. It would be the cutest thing. Your little Pomeranian, Nana, named after the dog from Peter Pan, would know when you would visit Hyunjin’s place. She would start to bark happily and wag her tail in joy. She would pull you to the door where you could hear Kkami on the other side of the door barking to sign Nana that he was there. As soon as the door opened slightly, a little snoot would squeeze its way through to get to its best friend.

You and Hyunjin would just laugh at them before you greeted each other. Even now they were sharing a little spot on the soft carpet, laying closely next to each other as they slept. “Well, take care of each other and don’t mess up the apartment when we will be gone.” You mother said as she hugged you. “You too and have fun.” “We definitely will. Well, we’ll see you in five days. You will be alright, right?” Your mother asked once again, as she caressed your cheek with both her hands. “We will be fine, he has me by his side.” You joked, receiving a dramatic gasp coming from your boyfriend. “I mean she isn’t wrong.” His mother said, making you laugh loudly as your boyfriend now looked at his mom shocked.

You would say your goodbyes to your parents before they went off to their vacation. As soon as the door slammed closed you ran into your boyfriends arms and wrapped your arms around his waist as you hugged him. You fell onto the couch, making him groan slightly as the air was knocked out of his body. You giggled when he rubbed his cheek on yours like a cat would. “We’re alone.” “I get to hold you at all times now.” Hyunjin sighs happily as he pulled you even closer to him as you laid next to him, being squeezed in between his chest and the backrest of the couch. “Yes please.” You mumbled against his skin as you just enjoyed your affection.

“What do you want to do the upcoming days?” You asked, whilst brushing your hand through his soft hair. “Well, we kind of need to decorate the house, go grocery shopping and maybe get a small Christmas tree?” “Sounds good to me, what kind of decoration-“ “My parents are gone, but the dogs are still here. Maybe Christmas should be dog-themed this year?“ Hyunjin gasped as he cut you off. “Did you just fucking rhyme.” You laughed. “But like a pupper Christmas! A howliday!” Hyunjin gasped as he shook you excitedly. “Sounds honestly like one of the best ideas you’ve ever had.” You teased, before receiving a playful push from him.

Later after laying down with Hyunjin for a little longer the two of you went out to get some ornaments for the tree that the two of you were about to find. In a little store that you had found near your apartment complex they sold a lot of Christmas ornaments, they even had animal themed once and you immediately dragged your boyfriend inside.

“Baby, look at this dog! It looks like Kkami!” You squealed as you found a little dog for in the Christmas tree. “Babe, this one looks like Nana-“ “We are so getting this!” You squealed.

After spending a little too much on puppy decoration in that little store, the two of you went to a market where you would search for the perfect Christmas tree. “This one?” He asked before presenting you the umpteenth tree. “It’s too thin on the bottom.” “This one?” He asked again. “No, too big, we won’t be able to take it back home.” You added. “This one?” He groans dramatically. “Yes! That one’s perfect-“ “Thank God!” He cried out, making you laugh before you were about to pay for the tree.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Your boyfriend says. “Paying for the tree-“ “No you’re not.” “Yes I am.” You fought back. “No you’re not, it’s for my apartment.” “And I’m a guest who’s staying at your apartment, so let me pay it for you.” “No, I’m your boyfriend I should pay-“ “I want to-“ “If the two of you can’t decide, just go Dutch.” The salesman says, making you and Hyunjin blush in embarrassment as you quickly paid the man and sped off with your tree.

“He hated our guts.” “Fuck yes he did.” You laughed.

“Children, we’re home!” You sung as you walked into the apartment, causing the little dogs to jump up to their little paws, slipping over the floor in process, before he came running towards you and Hyunjin in joy. And also hopeful on getting a treat from the two of you. “I’ll set up the tree, you go give the children a treat.” Hyunjin joked as he carried the tree inside.

When you came into the living room you found your boyfriend sitting on of the chair, tangled into the lights that he was trying to unknot. “Please help me.” He muttered as he was stuck in an uncomfortable position. You laughed loudly, almost falling to the ground, making your boyfriend whine because of it. “Baby please!” He whined as he wiggled to get lose. Instead of helping him you snapped a couple if pictures and send it to your parents.

You: ‘The lights have taken over my boyfriend, now he’s not the only thing that lights up my day.’ Mom: ‘Oh my gosh Y/n, go help the poor guy.’ Dad: ‘Hahaha lol wtf.’

After you were done texting your parents you helped your boyfriend to free himself, so the two of you could start to decorate the tree. It didn’t take you very long to finish the tree since it was rather small. “Do you want the star on top?” You asked him. “Yes, let me help you with that.” Hyunjin said before sweeping you off your feet, holding you bridal style as you put the star on top of the tree, which was already in reaching distant. You giggled uncontrollably and hit him in the arm for flustering you so badly, causing him to laugh. “Why did I choose to date such a sap.” You muttered into his chest as you hugged him. “You love me though.” “Most of the time.” You giggled, before getting tickled by him.

The two of you would continue to decorate the rest of the house. You and Hyunjin would try to put lights on the frame of the window, to make it look aesthetically pleasing. Hyunjin went to grab some tape or something to make the wiring stick and stay to the wall, whilst you tried to keep it in place. He came back to see you struggle to keep the lights up against the tall frames of the windows, making him smile. “Can you reach it Tiny?” He jokes as he went to help you, you pinched him in his sides making him stop functioning for a second whilst shrieking.

Sooner enough the two of you had finally finished decorating the house, you would rest your head on his shoulder as you looked around proudly. The two of you had made a special little Christmas corner near the heater where their bed was. There was a little doghouse next to their bed where the two puppy ornaments were placed, maybe not the best idea, but it definitely was one of the cutest.

It was getting late and you still needed to go grocery shopping together. Fortunately for you the stores were still open as you arrived at the mall. When you strolled around after getting the food you needed you came across a couple of dog pictures that were displayed in the shop window. “Hyunjin! Photoshoot! Christmas! Puppies!” Were the only words that you could make out through the enthusiasm that came over you like a big wave. Hyunjin was confused at the lack of words you used and made his way towards you, before he could take a look at the pictures you had already dragged him into the store. “Look at these tiny costumes!” You cried happily at the cuteness.

And so, you and Hyunjin bought more dog frills for the Christmas time. At the drive back home you were too busy looking for inspiration for the photoshoot that you definitely wanted to shoot with your dogs, and Hyunjin of course. You didn’t even bother helping him unpack the groceries as you walked straight to your dog with a tiny blonde dog who was wagging her tail, not knowing what would happen in the next minute. When Hyunjin heard you squeal for the umpteenth time that day, he figured that you had put on the tiny costume on Nana. The poor dog looked up to Hyunjin with a lost and confused look on her face. In the mean time you were almost on the edge of tears as you looked at the adorableness that your dog held. “Are you alright baby?” Your boyfriend asked you whilst laughing at how cute you were being. “I’m not, because I also have this green one for Kkami-“ “Give that to me woman I need this!” Hyunjin gasped as he grasped the green costume and went to chase his dog and ending up in tears with you, causing both of the dogs look at you questioning both of your sanity. “This was the best decision we’ve ever made as a couple!” He cried dramatically as he was frantically taking pictures of the dogs. You would edit the pictures to make it a Christmas card you could send to people on social media, the reactions starts to flow in. You would read them and respond to them as proud parents as you shared the cuteness of your pups. When the pups would’ve gone to sleep you and your boyfriend would sneak into the kitchen to make try and make cookies, both for you and the dogs. Hyunjin had found a receipt online before he attempted to bake something. The difference between the kitchen side of his and yours were drastic. He had flower all over his face, the wall and his clothes. You on the other hands, no dough to be found on your fingers, the wall was still squeaky clean and your looks were still flawless. “How in the world-“ “I’m capable of doing things.” You teased him as you rubbed the flower even more over his face as you cupped his face. “Come here you brat.” He joked, before ducking his face into your neck, rubbing the excess flower on your face, hair and shirt.

“No baby no!” You squealed as you tried to push him away. “No feel my love baby!” He sung a he shook his head like a dog, causing the flower to fly into the air, making you laugh.

After cleaning up and waiting for another fifteen minutes as soon as the timer went off you boyfriend ran to the kitchen and swung the oven door open. Hyunjin was too excited for the cookies to bake, he had eaten all the left-over dough form the bowl, the whisk, he even kissed some off your fingers, making you blush as he stared at you deeply as he did so.

Hyunjin was about to grab the plate out of the oven, making you yell at him in panic for him being a dumbass and not wearing over gloves. “You’re the dumbest bitch, oh my Gosh my heart is pounding.” You cried out in laughter as Hyunjin ended up on the floor from your yelling. “Your heart is pounding? I just got assaulted-“ “I just saved your ass what do you mean?” You yelled as you threw the other glove to his head.

You had taken the cookies out and let it cool off so the two of you could decorate it. You each took one, because you were too impatient to wait before you could try them, both of your mouths would burn as you took a bite out of it. Sighing in content when the cold milk cooled your mouths down from the heat. “Why does it taste so weird?” Hyunjin asked whilst chewing on his cookie. “Hyunjin, I just told you, you were dumb, but this just fucking peaked. You’re eating the dog’s cookies!” You laughed loudly, almost spitting out yours as you watched your boyfriend being dumb for the umpteenth time that night. “I was wondering why I tasted bacon.” Hyunjin laughed along, before he went to the dogs and gave it to them, or well laid it in their bowl since they were sound asleep.

The two of you were exhausted after that night full of baking and cleaning. The two of you fell asleep on the couch with a big blanket draped over the two of you that he had brought from his room. The next morning the two of you groaned in pain, because both of your necks were too stiff from the uncomfortable position you had laid in all night.

You ended up massaging each other as you sat across from each other, the both of you were still too tired to function, before some more time went by and you had decided to get cleaned up and go on a walk with the dogs. You would enter a dog park where there was also a little stall that sold hot chocolate milk that the owners could buy whilst enjoying the sight of their puppies having fun. You laid your head on Hyunjin’s chest as you sat on a bench together, the two of you just enjoyed your time together holding hands and just feelings each other’s’ warmth in the freezing weather.

A couple of kids who also were playing around the dog park. They were cutely asking you and Hyunjin for permission to pet them and give them treats. You of course let them and the two dogs loved the extra attention they received from the kids. “Will you and your wife come here more often so we can play with Kkami and Nana?” One of the Kids asked politely as they held their parents’ hand. You almost spit out your drink and Hyunjin just smiled sweetly at the child. “We might be around here sometime! I think Nana and Kkami really liked you! You would be great friends, we will hopefully meet again in the future!” “Will your wife be there as well? She’s really pretty!” He whispered to Hyunjin, making you awe. “She probably will, I can’t live without her.” Hyunjin winked before he ruffled the hair of the kid and saying goodbye to him.

“You’re the sweetest thing, I swear.” You sighed happily. “I love you too.” He muttered with a sweet smile on his lips as he kissed your temple. “I would love to call you my actual wife in the future though.” He added. “Y-you want to marry me?” You asked him in shock. “Of course I do, I couldn’t imagine anyone else by my side other than you in the future. I love you too much to let you go.” He smirked as he pressed kisses on your cheek.

Later on, back home from a fun day at the dog park, Nana and Kkami were exhausted and snoring away in their bed after eating the homemade cookies. You were in the kitchen, boiling some chicken soup whilst cooking you and your boyfriend something as well for supper. Hyunjin would come up behind you as you would be stirring away. He had rested his head on your shoulder as you continued to cook for him.

“I wished this moment could last forever.” He whispered into your hair as he kissed the nape of your neck in affection. “I love moments like this with you as well. They are they best.” You muttered back, resting your head on his slightly. “I can’t wait for us to get our own place. Not that I don’t like this, but I can get to be with you at any time I want.” He said happily as he hugged you even tighter. “Do you really think about stuff like that?” You asked him rather shocked. “Of course I do, when I have such a beautiful girlfriend, I have to think about a future with her or else she might think this will lead to nowhere.” He admitted softly, making you turn off the stove and turn around to face him. You had now wrapped your arms around his neck as you looked at him endearingly. “I’m not going nowhere honey, if we don’t have the money yet to live on ourselves, I’d still be happy to spend time like this with you.” You pressed a kiss on his cheek, making him smile. “I love you.” “I love you too.”

The night went on and the two of you had decided to eat dinner on the couch, whilst later on cuddling together with the dogs on your laps, with a blanket draped over the four of you.

Once again, the two of you ended up falling asleep on the couch, causing you to wake up with a pain in your neck. “Baby, we should sleep in bed from now on, I like massaging you, but we shouldn’t.” You chuckled as you sat across each other again as you massaged each other. “I would massage you all day if it would make you feel relaxed.” Hyunjin admitted. “Uh-“ “Not like that!” Hyunjin sighed in disbelief, making you laugh before pressing a kiss on his lips. “You love me though” “Most days.”

You and Hyunjin went out to walk with the dogs and ended up at a dog café. The owner saw you two and told you that you two were a beautiful couple and that they were actually in need of a couple for a photoshoot for their café promotions. You and Hyunjin happily agreed to help the lady out and before the two of you knew it, the pair of you plus your dogs were dressed up in matching sweaters and smiling for the camera.

Hyunjin would be playing cutely with Kkami as you and Nana enjoyed the products that the café offered for both people and dogs. The lady thanked you dearly and paid the two of you generously. “A Christmas gift from us for helping us out.” She had said with a bright smile before you and your boyfriend politely thanked her. The pictures and videos turned out great. You and Hyunjin couldn’t stop gushing about how cute you all were. “We’re like a little family.” He joked before kissing your cheek.

That day the two of you would go and visit a shelter to spoil the dogs there. You decided to not bring your own dog for their sake of safety since the other dogs might not all be mentally healthy. The two of you had done this for a few years now, even before you started dating have the two of you gone together to the shelter. It’s one of the things Hyunjin had always loved about you: showing kindness to everything that lives. Even when you accidently bump against a plant you would apologise to your ‘Mr Papyrus’.

He always thought you were the cutest when you were in your soft and kind state. At the shelter he was at first very worried that you would get hurt, but the animals got a certain vibe of safety around you and gently came towards you as you fed them. Today as well, you had recognised some of the dogs who were still at the shelter and went to greet them first.

Hyunjin would smile at you fondly and look at you with his eyes filled with love. He would chuckle shyly when the other volunteers would coo at him at how cute of a couple the two of you were or that he must feel lucky to have such a great girl like you. He would bow to them politely and then rush to where you were and help you wash the dogs. He would splash some water in your face and neck every now and then, receiving a gasp from you before laughing as the dog joined in by shaking off the water on her fur.

You would pet them for many hours before you had to say goodbye. The two of you also had decided to donate the money, you had earned at the photoshoot, to the shelter so the dogs could have a better living environment. You would walk back home, hand in hand, as it snowed. He couldn’t stop looking at you and you laughed when he bumped into objects like streetlights. “Look ahead.” You would tell him. “Why would I when I can look at you?” He smirked, making you let go off his hand and start to walk ahead of him. He ran after you, crashing into your body as he hugged you from behind, picking you up in process as he twirled you around. “I just love you so much, I can’t have enough of you.” He would confess before he kissed you softly. “I love you more.” You whispered against his lips. “Impossible.”

After the two of you came home, you went to walk with the dogs, who were also very excited to see you after hours alone with each other. Later on you and Hyunjin would change into you pyjamas and sit on the couch. It was already getting late, so you suggested to get into bed and watch tv there. The two of you would be laying in his bed as the tv played, you both weren’t paying attention to it at all as you suggested to buy each other gifts. “We could do a ‘secret Santa’?” Hyunjin suggested. “But I know you would be my secret Santa and visa versa, you dummy.” You laughed as Hyunjin facepalmed himself. “But we could keep it secret what we got each other? And it doesn’t have to be expensive, just like three things and maybe a thing for the dogs?” “For the first time in our relationship you’ve said something intelligent.” You gasped sarcastically. “Get over here!” Hyunjin would mumble before he turned over to tower over you and tickle you as you laid under him.

You would squeal loudly, making the dogs jump up and run to you worried. You would be out of breath after the tickle fight. The two of you now were exhausted. Hyunjin was resting his head on your chest as you laid together in bed. The two of you had fallen asleep together, but never really purposely slept in the same bed together, since the both of you were either too shy or too awkward. Hyunjin had sneaked into your room every now and then when sleeping over, claiming he missed you. He would get into your warm bed and cuddle together.

He looked up to you with tired but happy eyes before the two of you drifted off to sleep.

The next morning it was already the twenty-third of December, the two of you got up early after a, for once, good sleep. You two were headed with your dog carriers to the mall where you had split up to get each other presents.

You were lost at first on what to give your boyfriend. You had looked around for ages at the mall. You had ran into Hyunjin every now and then, him grinning at you as he not-so-smoothly passed you, trying to hide the bags he was carrying. “You better get me something!” Hyunjin told you with a playful grin on his face. “Calm down! I need inspiration!” “Y/n! You know me! Don’t think to hard!” He said before he ran to you and pressed a kiss on your forehead before running off to his own adventure again.

In the last hour of the two of you being at the mall, you finally came across a boutique where you brought him a new necklace and a nice blouse he could wear for Christmas. You didn’t doubt it if he’d look good in it or not, your boyfriend looked handsome in anything. He could be wearing a trash bag and you would tell him to strike a pose for the ‘gram.

You got Kkami a cute new collar that matched Hyunjin’s new blouse, so the two could match for Christmas. Lastly you got a bunch of snacks for him and some beauty products to keep his skin healthy and pretty.

When the two of you got home, he would be in the living room and you would be in the kitchen as you were both wrapping the gifts. “Hyunjin stop peeking. I will eat all the cookies by myself if you’re not going to quit it!” You sighed as your boyfriend kept barging into the kitchen to ‘get something he needed’. “I’m not, Kkami wanted a- uh-“ “You’re not talking yourself out of this one Hwang.” You laughed at your speechless boyfriend. “Shut up.” He muttered with a pout on his lips, making you laugh harder.

After you were done with wrapping your presents, you were getting bored since Hyunjin was wrapping his presents at slug-speed. You decided that it would be fun to mess with him. You grabbed his phone sneakily before keeping it in your back pocket as you made your way to the electricity box. You flicked the switch, causing the apartment to go dark, making you giggle as you heard Hyunjin yell in surprise. “Baby? Where are you?” You decided to keep quite as you stayed where you were. “Baby, this isn’t funny.” Hyunjin called out once more. “Y/n, I can’t find my phone and it’s dark and you aren’t responding to me, please just say something or make a noise.” He begged.

You could hear him walking closer to were you were, bumping into walls every now and then until he finally reached you. You had a flashlight ready and aimed at your face to make you look scary as you jump scared your boyfriend. Hyunjin yelped and fell down dramatically as he jumped in shock, making you laugh as you turned the electricity back on. “What was that for? You gave me a heart attack!” Hyunjin cried out whilst laughing along with you. “I was bored.” “Excuse me? So that makes you think it’s alright for you to give me a heart failure?” He chuckled as he sat back up straight. “You make my heart fail everything I look at you, this is a little payback.” You winked before kissing his head and walking away from your now-flustered boyfriend.

The night went on with the two of you being bored out of your mind, it was nowhere near bedtime and you both wanted to do something. You ended up watching YouTube videos together, when you suddenly stumbled across a video where dogs were paw-painting. You and Hyunjin looked at each other with wide eyes as the video that was streaming on the tv continued to play. “I’ll get the paint!” Hyunjin yelled as the both of you shot up to get the stuff to be creative with your pups. The dogs thought you wanted to play with them and made you chase after them, as they wagged their tails happily. Hyunjin walked back into the room, with a big plastic spread and a couple bowls and towels.

“I don’t think it would be safe for the pups to use regular paint on their paws, so I thought about using food as paint.” Your boyfriend wiggled his eyebrows as he suggested the so-called brilliant idea to you. You laughed loudly when your idiot forgot to put the lid on the blender, making the strawberries go everywhere.

“I can’t believe I’m dating someone as dumb as you.” You giggled as you wiped some of the strawberry mush off his face. “But you love me.” He sang sweetly before shooting you a wink.

Finally after preparing the ‘dye’ you dipped the paws of your pups into the mush. You let them walk around on the canvasses and the now-not-so-blank-anymore papers, making you and your boyfriend laugh when they started to chase each other and licking their own paws, enjoying the sweetness of the strawberries.

After the fun, you let the paintings dry and coated them with a thick layer of hairspray, both not in the mood for flies to be attracted to your new artwork. Hyunjin started to whine eventually that night, because he was in the mood for something, but since the both of you had used your fruit for art, you were out of it. Hyunjin whined some more and tried to drag you off the couch to make you join him on his quest to get some snacks from the convenience store. “Can’t you go by yourself?” You groaned as you hugged the couch for dear life as your boyfriend kept trying to drag you off it. “I don’t want to go by myself.” He whined. “You big baby.” “Yes I am, only for you and I don’t want to be alone, so can you just get your butt off the couch and come with me so we can get over this.” “Ugh, alright, but you owe me one.” You slowly got up, making Hyunjin groan this time. “Stop being such a slug and get moving woman!” He picked you up, making you squeal as he walked the both of you towards the door.

“Wait! I don’t have my shoes on!” You yelled, almost cutely, making him chuckle. He picked up a random pair of yours and grabbed your coat and threw it over you whilst still holding you, making you scoff in disbelief.

An hour or two later, the two of you had finally returned home from your little adventure. Hyunjin almost sold out the entire store, he had bought so much. You were just staring at him in disbelief and shock as he rushed around with his basket, filled until the brim with snacks and drinks.

You got even more embarrassed when you ran into some ‘fans’. The pair of you loved making pictures of each other and having little photoshoots, since the you two are just breath taking. And the people on the internet seemed to love it as well. You had almost a couple million people who followed the two of you. They found your relationship adorable and your looks of course more than pleasant. The three girls who squealed when they saw the two of you bickering away, caught your attention. And when they stared to compliment you, you began to hide your face into your boyfriend’s chest, making them squeal all over again. Even though the two of you looked like a mess, you still agreed to take a picture with them after they asked.

Now after that lovely late-night adventure, the two of you had changed into your matching pyjamas and both stuffed full with whatever Hyunjin had bought the two of you, both laying on the couch whilst listening to R&B love songs together.

Later, he suddenly grabbed your hand and raised you on your feet. He had pulled you close to his chest as he suddenly started moving slowly to the beat. You laughed warmly at his action and out of instinct, wrapped your arms around his neck whilst looking at him adoringly. He twirled you around, receiving a pile of giggles from you. You spun back into his arm and you held his cheeks into your smaller hands. He leaned down with a smile as he pressed a soft kiss onto your lips.

Even the dogs seemed to join in after a while, but in reality, they were chasing your colourful socks, trying to munch on them.

“What?” He asked you as he caught you staring at him. “I just love you so much.” “I love you too baby.” He chuckles, whilst shaking his head. “Don’t laugh at me and just kiss me you fool.” You whined before pulling him close again.

The next morning, you woke up early. Which you usually did compared to your boyfriend, since he was such a heavy sleeper. You could throw him off your bed and he would still sleep through it. When you were buying gifts for Hyunjin the other day, you found a mistletoe and went to bought it. You were trying to hang it up above the doorframe until your boyfriend walked in, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he spoke to you with a yawn. “What are you doing?” He asked, holding your waist protectively to make sure you didn’t fall off the chair you were standing on. “What do you think I’m doing?” You ask in responds. “Hanging up a ceiling booger.” He smiled sheepishly, making you laugh loudly and almost losing your balance.

He picked you up and put you back on the floor, since the branch was hung above the both of you. “You really don’t know what that is?” You asked him in disbelief. “No, what is that ceiling booger thing.” “Guess you fricking moron.” “I don’t know! A booger-“ “A mistletoe you dumbass!” You laughed, making him crumble into a ball of embarrassment.

You immediately exposed him on Instagram, filming him whilst laughing. “I’m dating the dumbest boy in the entire world. He didn’t know what I was putting up, which was a mistletoe. Now tell them what you called it.” “A ceiling booger-“ “A ceiling booger!” You yelled. “Let me die of embarrassment in peace woman!” Hyunjin groans as he clings onto you. “Never!” “Well, you’re always needy for these lips-“ “And that’s enough internet for today! Merry Christmas everyone!” You yelled, turning the camera to you before switching it off.

“You’re so stupid, I love you.” You giggled as Hyunjin was still curved into a ball. “I love you too.” He muttered, whilst still pouting. “Want to take a nap? Our parents are coming back later this afternoon-“ “Yes-“

Once again, you woke up earlier than your boyfriend, a couple hours later. You noticed the sunlight shining through the curtains. Sliding off the couch and out of your boyfriend’s grip you went to open the blinds, planning on annoying your boyfriend. Instead, you squealed loudly in excitement, almost scaring the dogs awake when you saw the thick layer of white snow resting on the city. Running to your boyfriend you almost crashed on top of him, your fluffy socks were slippery than you thought. “Babe-“ “There’s snow outside! Get up! I want to go outside!” You groaned as you tried to get your tall ass boyfriend off the couch.

“Let me wake up-“ “No time! You can wake up in the snow!” You stopped trying to get him up, instead you were hopping around, gathering your stuff whilst trying to put on your snow boots. “Baby, be careful you will hurt yourself.” He laughed tiredly whilst stretching his limbs.

Before he knew it, he was standing outside shivering his butt off. In the meantime you were running around after the dogs whilst making patterns in the snow. Hyunjin smiled to himself as he watched the scene happening in front of his eyes. He saw the two pups running after each other and tripping over their own feet, making both of them end up with their snout in the cold snow. He took out his phone and recorded your cuteness, also contemplating with himself if he should post this online, or to keep this all to himself.

In the end he kept it for himself, since he loved being the only one able to see this soft and sweet side of yours. Sooner enough, he was dragged, for the umpteenth time this morning, and was forced to make snow angels and a snow-couple plus two tiny snow-dogs with you. “Baby, your clothes are soaking wet, let’s go inside before you catch yourself a cold.” Hyunjin groans worried as you were whining to stay outside. “We can come back later you know? Besides, our parents will come home later and the place is a literal mess. I also don’t feel like dying on Christmas day, murdered by my parents for turning the place upside down, so get your cute butt back inside and let’s clean!” Now it was your turn to be dragged, the small dogs following the two of you behind.

And so, the two of you started to clean the mess that you called his apartment. You had compromised that you would clean the kitchen and the living room and that he would take the bedroom and the bathroom. When you were finished you were wondering how your boyfriend was doing so you went to check up on in. You got suspicious when it was awfully quiet. After swinging open the bedroom door you let out a chuckle in disbelief. Here he was, passed out on his bed, a cloth over his face as he laid there.

You wanted to wake him up, but nothing seemed to work. You smirked to yourself after removing the cloth off his face to reveal his puffy cheeks. Blowing raspberry kisses on his cheeks, caused a loud funny noise and before you knew it you were pulled down on top of Hyunjin whilst laughing. “Who told you, you could sleep?” You pouted whilst slapping his arm playfully.

The pair of you would get you would get up and clean the last bits of the apartment, before the two of you went grocery shopping. It was so busy and you two regretted not doing it earlier this week. An elder couple smiled warmly at the both of you when she heard you sing along to the Christmas songs in the middle of the store. The two of you were minding your own business, having a little sing-off in the snack isle, when you heard a sudden applause. “I remember my husband and I being this young and crazy. Just enjoying life and each other. Bless your hearts and may you have a great holiday.” She smiled, her sweet words touching both of your hearts.

When they had left, the two of you shot each other a look and cringed in embarrassment, before quickly leaving the store after gathering everything. Trying to avoid another confrontation from another witness.

“I want it.” “Excuse me- you want what now baby?” He smirked. “Don’t be stupid, I want that.” You said whilst nodding towards the cookie, which you made earlier this week, that your boyfriend was holding. “Uhm, no I picked it up first.” “So, I did all the work I deserve that-“ “You didn’t let me do anything-“ “Because I don’t trust your so-called ‘cooking skills’.” You laughed before trying to snatch the cookie out of his hand.

“Nice try baby, but at least be fair about it.” He said with a smug smile. “And what did you had in mind?” You asked, whilst crossing your arms and staring at him. “Rock, paper, scissors, the winner gets the cookie.” And so, a thirty-minute battle of rock, paper, scissors went on between you and your boyfriend, but still ending up in a tie no matter what.

“This is ridiculous! Let’s do something else-“ “Aegyo battle!” Hyunjin screamed. “Well, that’s something I never thought I’d hear coming out of your mouth.” You laughed in surprise. “Are you in or not? Winner gets the cookie.” “Can’t we-“

You were cut off by an ‘cute’ act of Hyunjin, making you almost scoff in disgust. You shot one right back at him and you could see the change in his eyes from amusement to agony. Or well, sort off. He loved it when you acted cute for him, every now and then, but this time one of the most delicious cookies in the entire world was on the line.

And so the battles went on. In the end you had defeated your boyfriend. “You’re my man. My sweet talented man who I love so much. No this much! No this much!” You said whilst spreading your arms and hugging him afterwards. He started to squeal and pushed the cookie in your mouth, making you groan.

He pouted as he turned his gaze away from you. He really wanted that cookie. “Here.” You said as you broke off half of it and handed it to him. “Wait-“ “If you would’ve listened to me earlier, you would’ve heard me say that we could’ve just split the thing and enjoy it together. Instead of going through all this effort on winning with these dumb battles.” “But you enjoyed them though.” He muffled with a mouth full of cookie, making you shake your head whilst smiling. “Idiot.” “What?” “Nothing baby.”

“Oh my God, I’m an idiot.” Hyunjin whispered to himself as he stared at the cookie jar in front of him. “You’re telling me, that you’ve hidden a full jar of cookies from me?” You asked in disbelief as you stared down at your boyfriend. “I- no!” He stuttered. “Yes you did! Those are so mine now!” You say snatching the jar from him, putting a cookie half-way into your mouth whilst doing a little dance to tease him.

He just smirked and swiftly stepped closer to you and leaned in, keeping eye contact with you the entire time. He bit the other half off, causing your heart to flutter. He would laugh at your flustered state and mock your little dance from earlier. “You can’t just do that! My poor heart!” “You asked for it.” He smirked. “How can my heart handle your handsomeness-“ “Woman look what you’re doing to my heart!” He groaned back whilst the both of you clutched your chests dramatically.

“By the way, do you want to open the present later, or right now?” Your boyfriend asked, after he had caught his breath. “Let’s do it now, our family will be back later and I want some time for ourselves.” You responded. “You said that as if we didn’t had any alone time these past days.” He laughed, before he walked off to gather all the presents.

You two sat across from each other as you opened the presents you had bought for one another. Hyunjin loved the blouse, the necklace and the matching collar you had bought for him and Kkami. To top that you had bought him a new game for his Nintendo Switch, that the two of you would probably play later that night.

Hyunjin was excited to see you opening your presents. He had bought you a nice big and warm hoodie, one with a bit of poof in the sleeves and you loved it. He had also bought you a small bow for your dog that matched the cute hoodie. You immediately went to your pup and squealed at how cute Nana looked. “And we always save the best for last.” He said as he pulled out a velvet box. You had a heart attack when you opened your eyes when he cued you could, the fabric of the box giving you a little hint on what it could be. “Oh my God, for a second I thought you were going to propose.” You muttered flustered, making him laugh as well. “Soon baby, soon.” He muttered back before pressing a kiss on your cheek. “What-“ “Just open the box woman!” He groans, making you jump in surprise and open the box, causing you to gasp.

It was a beautiful ring that was hung on a necklace chain, which matched the ring necklace your boyfriend always wore. “Read the letter baby.” He whispered.

‘Hi baby, It’s been a while since we got together. These past years have been the greatest years of my life. I can’t thank the universe enough for letting us meet and setting us up. You are truly the most amazing person I’ve ever met. You’re an actual gift- no blessing from above and I sometimes can’t believe that you’re mine. I love you so much baby, with this ring I will promise you to exchange that to an actual diamond engagement ring one day. For now let’s match together and be happy. I love you so much. Merry Christmas my love.

I love you.

Sincerely,

Your loving boyfriend Hyunjin.’

Tears were rolling down your cheeks at the end of the letter and you threw yourself into Hyunjin’s arms who was also an emotional wreck. “I love you!” “I love you too!”

Hours went by and your parents had already texted you that they would be on their way back. To kill time you and your boyfriend had decided to check out that new game you had bought him. And the both of you being dramatic as usual, it ended up in a chaotic, and playful, screaming match. “What are you doing! Hey! Watch out! You’re going to get us both killed-“ Hyunjin was cut off by Nana who was barking loudly at him, setting her two paws on his foot to say ‘Stop yelling at my mom!’ Causing you to laugh.

“She’s got my back honey.” You giggled before returning your attention to the game. In the middle of the game, when the both of you started to grow a little tired of it after playing for a long time, you felt cold. “Did you turn on the heater?” You asked Hyunjin who just stared blankly in front of him. “Oh my God, I really am dating a dumbass.” You laughed as you got up to check it out for yourself. “No wonder we were freezing our asses off! You never turned it on?” You asked, still in disbelief of his stupidity.

“Well, I was excited for Christmas and I forgot-“ “Nonsense, you’re just dumb-“ “No need to hurt me woman!” He groans dramatically. “I’ll make us some tea, go get the blankets. It will take some time to heat up the entire apartment.”

You would be cuddled under a blanket with hot tea in your hands as you sat on the couch, dogs laying comfortably in between the space of you two.

“I’m so glad our parents are coming back today, I really want to go out and eat some nice food with all of us.” He mutters as he had rested his head on your shoulder. “So, you’re saying that I don’t cook well-“ “Don’t do that. You know what I meant. Stop playing.” He groans as he shuts you up with a kiss pressed onto your lips, causing you to hide your face in his chest. He laughed loudly before hugging you and pressing yet another kiss on top of your head.

“Hyunjin?” “Hmm?” He responded. “We got to walk the dogs.” “It’s cold.” He whined as he looked outside to see that it was snowing yet again. “I know, but we better do it now so we can return back to our cosy warm blankets.” You would make your way through the park, hand in hand as you had both of your dogs on a leash. Suddenly, and to this day you still have no idea what overcame your dogs, but they started to run around like crazy. “What- Nana calm down!” You yelled as she ran around you and Hyunjin. Kkami copying her actions, causing you and Hyunjin to end up tied and their movements made the two of you fall into the snow together. “Did we just get pranked by our dogs?” You laughed in disbelief as you hugged your covered-in-snow-boyfriend. “I believe so.” He laughed as well as he tried to untie you. “I guess we got to get back and get a hot shower then, cause that blanket isn’t warm enough for this crap.” You whined.

Not long after returning home, you had hopped into the shower. And when you were done you put on one of Hyunjin’s sweaters, instead of the new one he had bought you. You really wanted to safe that one another time, especially since the both of you were getting dressed up to go out tonight.

Hyunjin gasped loudly and dramatically when he saw you walk in with his hoodie on, as if he had never seen you in his clothes before. It was just one of the few things that had him smitten for you. He wanted to rush over to you, to hug you. And expecting you to hug him, instead he got you dodging away from him and squealing. “I just got warm.” You whined once again. “And I’m freezing still. And you just happened to look awfully comfortable and warm. Just let met hug you-“ “No!” “C’mon! Just a little hug!” He teased, whilst running after you. “No! Get away from me you cold demon!” You squealed as you tried to dodge him still as you ran around the couch.

For a moment, the two of you were staring each other in the eye and he suddenly smirked at you, causing you to gulp loudly. He jumped over the couch and tackled you to the ground. “No! Defeat!” You yelled, before bursting into laughter, which turned into squealing not much later when Hyunjin pressed lots of kisses onto your skin.

And yet again, the two of you fell asleep. This time you laying on top of him. There’s a reason why people call you the ‘dream couple’. But Hyunjin would try and convince you that it was scientifically proven that napping together strengthened the bond of someone’s relationship. And to your surprise it actually was an article, so you just went on and lived by science’s words.

You two were still asleep when your parents walked back into the apartment. They awed when they saw the four of you, including the dogs, sleeping. Hyunjin’s mother couldn’t help but snap a couple of pictures of the young couple. “Aren’t they sweet together?” “They are, aren’t they.” The mothers cooed. “My baby girl is all grown up.” Your father whispered dramatically, receiving a slap on his chest from his wife as he ‘pinked’ away his ‘tears’.

“Maybe we should go on vacations more often, they seem to have handled this quite well.” “We should. And I think they would love to have some more alone time at home.” “No, not Y/n she loves us. My little princess would never-“ “Honey stop it.” Your mother laughed at your father’s drama act.

“Can you guys be quiet, she’s sleeping.” Hyunjin whispered, causing the four parents to jump in surprise. “Gosh, you’re awake. How was it honey?” His mother whispered as she went to kiss her son’s forehead. “It was great mom, I got to have a taste on what it was sort of like to live with her. I really am looking forward to us living together. I love spending time with her, or being around her in general. And I really am not just saying that because her parents are right there. I genuinely love your daughter and I hope to spend the rest of my life with her. And no, I didn’t propose, even though this may sounds like I did. But I did promise her that I would exchange the promise ring into an engagement ring one day.” Hyunjin whispered as he looked down at you adoringly.

“We would be happy to have you in the family Hyunjin. You already got our blessing.” Your father responded, causing Hyunjin to smile happily. “I promise to take good care of her.” “We know you will.”

He looked back down to you and sneakily pressed a kiss onto your hair. Christmas with his family, his dog, your dog and of course you were the best. Knowing that he got your parents’ blessing, his day couldn’t get any better.

He for sure now knew what he would get you next year.

Gif isn’t mine.

I hope you guys liked it!

176 notes · View notes

milkygcf · 5 years

Text

All the King’s horses, all the King’s men

Pairing | myg x reader

Genre | Mystery, thriller, angst, slowburn, e2l, Gang Leader!reader, Detective!yoongi

Warnings | Graphic scenes, use of alcohol, use of drugs, gang violence, explicit language, slightly sexual scenes, social issues, major character death.

Summary | ❝ Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall- Humpty Dumpty had a great fall. Even with all the King’s horses and all the King’s men, Humpty could not be put back together again. ❞

❝ An ambitious man caught in thorns, drowning in the delicacy of what the world truly is - a whirlpool of chaos and terror. There, he finds his bitter downfall. ❞

Word Count | 3.1k

Author’s Note | Hello! I wanted to make a quick note about this oneshot before it actually starts. Firstly, I’d like to advise whoever’s reading this that this is just a summary of the actual fic which I will be releasing - however, I have not finalised a date. Secondly, it’s a tad bit rushed and messy and I apologise if it does not reach standards. Due to my personal life, I found that it was quite difficult to find the time to write as much <3

To end everything, I would like to thank @ficswithluv for welcoming me into this wonderful project! I hope you enjoy reading <3

The delicate stomping of your feet upon the gravel startles the ravens sitting by. You stop in front of a familiar tombstone, your infamous surname nicely engraved in a fancy font. Before it lay a multitude of flowers, all speedwells as to symbolise loyalty towards the man buried six feet under. It's Valentine's day, and unlike the ravishing hues of blues and purples, you had bought roses to celebrate the event. If anything, you were always the odd one out when on with your business.

You set a few speedwells down, politely placing them into one of the empty jars left out beside the other swarm. It's overwhelming, the very site of your father's name placed in such a lowly place, finally resting beside your mother. It's overwhelming how in only a small amount of time, events took a wicked turn and brought along unnecessary chaos.

You face the neighbouring slate of stone set on the right side of your family's. This one's much duller and greatly lacking in vibrancy, attention. It brings a frown to your features. It's lonely, devoid of any proper affection that one needs in order to stay remembered.

Yet, even though it's desolate, it makes you reminisce. The sight of it doesn't bring you grief - neither does it bring you melancholy. Instead, it fills your train of thought with old memories that you either want to cherish or banish completely. Where forever was once a long time, it’s now a memory. Where pinky promises were depicted as something precious, you now notice that they were nothing but white lies to conceal the truth.

You’d learned this the hard way.

It’s truly surprising how so much can happen in the span of a year, how so many things are able to change and leave dead skin behind. The world is a delicacy of chaos and terror. Time offers only to take. It’s an ancient form of evil and you’ve grown to despise it for it works.

Now you’re left empty, shattered and dull. No longer do you symbolise the purity of a child whose eyes shimmered with innocence, with colour. When you thought you had already grown, you put yourself through trauma. And with a series of unfortunate events, you’ve finally, truly come to understand the world for what it truly is.

Beside you, a wounded soul whom you haven’t seen in such a long time laces his fingers with yours. He draws soothing circles into your skin and you finally breathe. Through thick and thin, you find yourselves here, together, breathing.

Maybe, there is hope for blemished souls like yours.

You met the unusual man at a bar. Although back then, you had no idea what really lied underneath the thick layer of skin that he dawned. The bartender had offered the both of you drinks, pointing out how utterly exhausted the two of you looked. That sparked up small talk – simple, small talk.

Until you were both sharing breaths in a bathroom stall, holding onto each other almost as if your lives depended on it. Every touch of his that settled on your skin burned, the pieces of fabric that your body dawned felt way too heavy. Your fingers were tangled in his hair, teeth biting down on his lip. His hands were on your hips, pulling you closer and closer onto his body until the warmth that was radiating off him made both of you break out.

Both your minds were hazy, your mouths tasted like a mixture of vodka and whiskey. It left a bitter feeling on your tongues. You were so lost in the feeling, the warmth that spread through you and shut out all your concerns.

His hands were playing with the zipper of your dress, fumbling hastily as to waste no time. It was almost funny how men could get so impatient. You were both speaking in tongues, merely pulling back to catch your breaths. His left leg was pushed right against your core making you more sensitive than your own good. You were grinding down on him, moans tumbling out of your mouth as they were muffled into the kiss.

Maybe it was just a moment’s talk, but even though you were barely doing anything, the feeling was euphoric.

He was trailing wet kisses down your neck, giving you the chance to finally catch your breath. Your skin was bruising, your core was pooling, and you were losing sense of reality. His hands were running all over you, making you feel something much greater than pleasure from a simple touch.

It all came to a stop at the sound of his phone ringing aggressively in his pockets, leaving you huffing out in annoyance. He didn’t just leave it and continue with his business; he fished the phone out of his pocket and stormed out of the stall while fixing himself up. There was no “excuse me,” or “I really have to take this.” He just stormed out of the room as if nothing was going on. It left you livid.

Park Jimin, your right-hand man, had to pick you up that night – helped you with your frustrations and worries, held you until you slept and didn’t wake up until dawn.

You were glad to think that you wouldn’t ever see him again, just a one-time failed fling in a population full of many. But your career begged to differ, as about a month or so after, he turned up to a meeting you held, custom-made for new recruits. Never will you forget the surprise on his face, when he found out that you were, indeed, the leader of the cartel. You, a normal woman at the bar, drinking her sorrows away in hopes they’d simmer and give her peace.

Although, you’d like to think there was something else beneath that surprise.

“A woman, as the leader of the sickest cartels in all South Korea?” One of the recruits spoke, a bitter tone hanging on his tongue. “How the fuck is it supposed to stay put?”

It was true that you had no idea how things were supposed to go in the industry – your father never really let you merge yourself with his world. But now, your father lay in a casket six feet under after being found dead in a ditch. You couldn’t really put it in a simpler way, but the only thing you could really say is you refuse to recreate an old nursery rhyme your mother used to tell you when you were just a toddler.

Nothing will stop you from reigning and getting back at whoever slaughtered your plans. You weren’t ready to tolerate anything in your way.

Hence why you didn’t hesitate to make Jimin shoot a bullet through his head, even if it terrified you just the slightest bit. But that was a different story.

Of course, it was no surprise. Women were still thought to be such fragile beings, not being able to handle anything. Once you stepped on top for the throne, you refused to let that put you down. “If any of you dimwits even so much as think about saying stupid shit like that again, I won’t hesitate to decapitate you.”

Jimin always kept his word. Because for the next year or so, whoever even uttered a single word about your command in the cartel faced death. You were never there to see it – Seokjin and Jimin made sure you knew everything that occurred, though.

On the other hand, there was that man you met at the bar. If it was possible, he would’ve disintegrated under your gaze. The dislike you had towards him was surely something grand, and to glitter it up a bit, he seemed to share the same feelings towards you too. Of course, in your defense, he had no reason to.

You weren’t the one who ditched in the middle of a make-out session.

Min Yoongi – he was something. A no one, but something, nonetheless. Ever since you saw him lined up with the other recruits, you’ve had your eye on him. As dumb as he acted, the man was cunning. Just what the cartel needed. Despite acting scared, like everything is all new, you felt as if it was nothing to him – almost as if it was all just a mask to conceal his true intentions. Although, you had no proof to this, so you let these accusations simmer.

His tale was cliché. He needed money but he didn’t have the qualifications to get a job. So, he joined the mafia, a very dirty place to get what you want. You ran background checks on him, just in case, and you found nothing of danger to all of you.

With a few weeks of training, Yoongi was fully accepted into the group and was one of Seokjin’s right-hand men.

Passing by him in corridors, sitting in the same room with him, even hearing his name made your blood boil. It was unexplainable, but the feeling was mutual. Back then, if he disliked you, then it would only be fair if you disliked him as well.

The tension was incredibly thick between you two, much that it left others uncomfortable whenever you were in each other’s presence. It was unbearable.

There was this incident once – you remember it like the back of your hand.

Seokjin had sent him to your office to deliver the newest packages that would determine how briskly your newest job was going to go. Despite begging the elder to send someone else as to avoid the awkward tension, the man refused.

The next morning, the raven-haired man was waiting by your door, box in hand. It took you a minute or so of plainly staring at him, observing the way his fingers twitch on the item, the way his eyes squint at you almost as if you were going to swallow him whole. It was quiet. No one said a word until you both entered your office.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again, as a fucking mafia leader.” he said.

“Ta mère ne t'a jamais dit de ne pas faire confiance aux étrangers?” you responded fluently, the accent rolling down your tongue briskly. Yoongi had no clue what you said, hence why you huffed and translated for him.

“I’m pretty sure your mother has warned you about strangers at least once in her life, no?” Your tone was calm, soft and delicate.

“She has. I didn’t think it’d happen with you though.”

You crossed your arms over your chest and rested against your desk. “Oh? I apologise then, even though I don’t recall being the one who’s acting arrogant.” As someone below you, he had to show decency, or he’d be thrown out with the dogs. “Arrogant?” he snarled lowly, plummeting down on one of the cushioned chairs placed in front of your mahogany desk. “You’re the one who’s been acting like a bitch all this time.”

“Best watch your tongue before I throw you out,”

“Do it then.”

He was faced with a gun to his head. You glared; finger firmly set on the trigger as you stared directly at him. No way were you going to let him get away with such a disrespectful attitude. He didn’t flinch, neither did he blink. He just stared back at you, slowly shoving his hands in the pockets of his tattered jacket.

“Don’t test me, Min.”

“You wouldn’t do it.”

Once those words tumbled out of his lips, you stiffened. Of course, you’d do it, why wouldn’t you?

“You put on a strong, independent persona but you can barely manage yourself.”

His words are what water is to fire. How dare he talk to you like that? Had he no fucking decency? Did he really want a bullet to pierce his skin in order to start seeing some sense?

“I have no idea what you’re saying.”

“Oh, I think you do. That’s you, isn’t it?” His head bobbed towards the painting behind you – the Ses Peines Pleurant Es, a painting your mother had created back in her days. It depicted the both of you against the world, against the pure wickedness you were forced to grow up in. There’s darkness, but in contrast to it, there’s you as a new-born dawned in white.

“What makes you think that?”

The metal felt cold against his skin and Yoongi couldn’t help but shiver. “That painting’s been missing for years, and now that it’s here, it has to be yours.” he spoke calmly, “And frankly, I don’t think I’ve seen someone wear that much white before.”

You looked down at your clothes, all white with no signs of any other hue. It was crazy, truly, but you don’t remember wearing any other colour growing up. Your mother always dressed you up in just white, telling you that you look best in it. You just never really took mind to the resemblance your fashion sense had with the painting.

“Must be a coincidence,” you hummed, lowering the gun down to his chest. “For which I think is none of your business.”

Yoongi only hummed in response. There was a strict silence between the two of you then, before you sent him back to whatever duties Seokjin set on his shoulders. That was one of the encounters you had before things started taking a slight twist.

An infiltration in the Children’s Medical Clinic of Seoul, where one of the doctors was the main leads to what exactly brought your father’s downfall. You remember how ruthless Yoongi was that day, mercilessly shooting at the man without hesitation, without sparing a single breath. It was crazy, hell, it was mad, but you enjoyed it. That only meant strength to the cartel, and that’s exactly what you wanted.

Although, you won’t ever forget the pained screams of children roaring in panic, the sudden stiffness in Min when the man dropped dead and painted the bleached tiles red.

From then on, the hate you harboured towards each other started to simmer. Seokjin and Jimin had noticed this when Yoongi started becoming more obedient, less cocky with the way he formed his words.

To you, this was relief.

But then things started to advance, the two of you started getting closer and before you knew it, you were having affairs late at night. When everyone else was at their respective homes, you were under silken sheets, legs entangled with Yoongi’s. You’d play with his soft locks as he told you his deepest, darkest secrets. He’d tell you his fears, what he’s always wanted to become ever since he was a toddler.

And you’d listen. You’d listen intently until both of you fell asleep, and you’d rake your brain until you unraveled what all the information you ate up meant.

Jimin started getting suspicions – he found pills in Yoongi’s house. There was no labelling on them, and you didn’t think asking him would somehow enlighten the situation. To make it far more interesting, later you found a multitude of phone numbers scribbled on a piece of paper in his pockets.

Yoongi started becoming strange.

He’d tell you things you were skeptical of, he’d do things you deemed abnormal. And then, he started telling you how someone was out to get you, and how one day he would be famous, people would talk about him wherever he passed by.

You’ve known Yoongi for a year – enough to tell that he was not the man he was before. He wasn’t so mental, he wasn’t a paranoid freak, neither was he so ambitious. Yoongi was just a normal man who needed something to do.

But then, he started talking in his sleep. Words tumbling out of his mouth one by one, telling you who he truly was, the man behind the façade he’d been showing you every day. Jimin was never one to lie.

There was someone out to get you and it was him. He’d been a wolf in sheep’s clothing, getting closer to you in order to gain information to bring your very downfall. He revealed every little plan, every hidden camera scattered across the base, all managed by none other than the police department.

Humpty Dumpty had the King’s men to aid him, piece him back up and help him up the wall. But you, you had no one.

The man who had shown you what white truly meant, what innocence and happiness felt like, what being normal truly tasted of. Your first and your last love. Min Yoongi, the man who wrapped his hands around your heart and took advantage of what was bare.

Perhaps that was why your mother always teased you about being careful when dealing with boys.

You reminisce how it all went down on Valentine’s Day. How the waves hugged the shore lovingly, being complimented nicely by the dim light of the moon dawning on your silhouettes hand in hand. He felt cold. Yoongi felt distant.

A sweet, passionate kiss was shared that night. It filled you with false hope, chills. It painted a faulty picture in your head of what could have been but hadn’t been. That night, you held him close and held him dearly.

“I love you,” he whispered.

Your toes curled in the damp particles of the sand. Your fingers fell limp. “I love you most,” You muttered back, your lips trailing faint kisses across his neck. When you pulled back, you observed him. Yoongi had never looked so vulnerable in all the times you’ve faced him. Although, even if he was torn, in that very moment to you he was beautiful.

You remember the screeching of birds once you pulled the trigger, your skin and dress then painted in crimson. You remember the sheer surprise scattered across his face until he offered you a gentle smile and collapsed.

“Jour de la Saint-Valentin heureux, mon amour.”

You no longer wore white.

---

His name is engraved quite nicely on his tombstone. It still saddens you how barren it looks, devoid of any attention. Hence why you gently set the bouquet of flowers down, bowing your head in respect towards the man who brought you to a new world.

You’ll cherish his presence in your memories instead of forgetting them.

Even if Yoongi left without truly accomplishing his mission, without truly becoming what his desires were, he was deemed dead in vain.

Macbeth let his ambition eat him whole and it led him to his very downfall – the terror of seeing himself crumble and lose power.

Yoongi also was too over-ambitious for his own good. He let himself succumb to the control you were merely lending him, only to suffer the consequences and face his own undoing.

After all, Humpty Dumpty could never really be put back together again.

“Happy Valentine’s day, my love.”

106 notes · View notes

lu-undy · 4 years

Text

Chapter 36 - SBT

Here it is!

"Oh, hey M!"

Eddy was delighted to see his friend.

"Hey Eddy."

"What's up? Been a while since I saw you!"

"Yeah, I was just passin' by. Thought I could stop and say hi."

"O'course! By the way, great job on those 'gators for Johnson."

"Yeah, well, it had to be done, eh." Mundy took a seat on his usual stool.

"So you're done now?" Eddy asked.

"With Johnson's alligators, yeah."

"What are you gonna do? Gonna get back in the desert and…?"

"I've uh… I've got some work that needs finishing properly." Mundy answered.

"What animals this time?"

"It's… It's not-" Mundy started to answer when a group of young boys entered the shop.

"M! We got a message for you!"

"Oh, yeah, what is it?"

"Here, there's this box." One of the kids handed him a similar box to that which contained the suit Richard had made for him.

"Okay…" Mundy took it and Eddy raised an eyebrow. It was so odd seeing the scruffy Mundy with a glossy white box with a red ribbon…

"L sends us. He said to go and meet him at Maurice's street tonight at 7pm sharp with what's in the box and your dartflute."

"My what?" Mundy asked, confused.

"He said with your dartflute, he insisted on it." The kid repeated.

"Oh, I see." Mundy rolled his eyes and smiled. "I get it, ok. Thanks, kids."

"What's that all about? And who's that L guy?" Eddy asked as Mundy headed for the door.

"See ya Eddy!"

-- Suite 504, Grand Palace --

"Meow?"

"Mon bébé…?"

[My baby…?]

"Meow!"

Lucien heard the tics of Perle's claws on the floor. He only had to follow the noise before he found her trying to climb the piano's seat.

"Je te tiens!"

[Gotcha!]

He went to her and scooped her off the floor, tickling her belly. She squealed and squirmed in his hand, making him chuckle. How come he was the only one she accepted in her life…? He had no clue.

"Aïe!"

[Ouch!]

Lucien looked at his finger. Perle had scratched it a bit too deep and blood was prickling.

"Je dois te couper les griffes."

[I need to cut your claws.]

He dropped her on the sofa and went to get her special clippers. When he came back, he sat on the sofa and put her on his lap, on her back. She raised her paws to him but when he started cutting her claws, she realised she wasn't in for a treat…

"Tsk, tsk, tsk… Plus tu te plains, plus ça va durer. À ta place, je resterais le plus tranquille possible."

[Tsk, tsk, tsk… The more you complain, the longer it will last. If I were you, I would stay absolutely still.]

Of course, she was dissatisfied with it all, may it last a bit or a long time. She continued squirming in his hand and on his lap. Lucien resorted to singing to soothe her.

"Frère Jacques, frère Jacques,

Où es-tu? Que fais-tu?

Sonne les matines, sonne les matines,

Ding, ding, dong"

She stilled in his hand and her eyes were on him. He gave her a sweet smile as he went on with the nursery rhyme, trying to bring peace to her. She only squirmed occasionally until he finally got to all the claws.

"Voilà, c'est fini. Tu vois? Ce n'est ni long, ni douloureux."

[Here we go, it is done. See? It is neither long nor painful.]

He rewarded her with a hug and a few kisses in her fur before dropping her on his shoulder and going to the piano. He rehearsed on his own to kill some time.

But then his mind came back to that man. He had lied to him, an awful lot. But it was better that way and very practical, as it turned out. As long as M didn't know that L and Lulu are the same, Lucien could ask him what he thought about himself under Lulu's disguise and M would be none the wiser. It was perfect.

There was also something thrilling about it. It reminded Lucien of his younger days, when going undercover with a fake identity was both a professional obligation but also something that he immensely enjoyed. Toying with people, having power over something. Those were times where he did not feel like the victim of powers greater than himself. Non, he felt like he was the master of his own decisions and he wasn't counting his days.

Now, things were different. Lucien knew he walked to his death. As soon as he and M would kill Duchemin, his life would be forfeit.

He sighed and raised his eyes to little Perle.

He couldn't leave her behind. Who would take care of her? No one. Not only did Lucien not have friends anymore, but Perle herself wouldn't accept anyone's touch but his. So it became clear, Duchemin had to die, but Lucien had to survive.

Not only for Perle.

Lucien frowned on the piano. There was one man that he wanted to see again. Mon Dieu… A few months ago he was gladly walking to his death and now, because of the eyes of a baby and those of a man he knew would surely die with him, he was reconsidering everything around him. Non. As soon as they're done, they needed to part ways, fly apart, as far away as they could from each other and cut ties, all the ties.

They will have to leave, Lucien will have to stop seeing that tall silhouette, those earnest eyes, that shy smile. He will have to live his life without that harsh voice, which spoke in low growls, in stuttered words and ideas, as if its owner had been parachuted on a planet of which he didn't know the customs; as if English wasn't his first language, or he hadn't spoken to another fellow human ever before.

Lucien sighed before raising his eyes to the clock. Time to get ready.

He got off the piano and went to his room to get in his costume. It was made of dark blue, golden and white, and it did look indeed like an eighteenth century attire. He put on a white shirt with a scarf that puffed up below his chin. Then came the trousers in light beige with a few threads of gold that reflected the light beautifully. But those were one pair of those "short" trousers that stopped right below his knees. He then slipped on the long socks - white tights really - that stuck to his calves closely. Finally, he added the light, dark blue vest and waistcoat and the black shoes that indeed looked like they were made a few centuries before.

Lucien looked at himself in the mirror. He took the last piece of his disguise and went to the bathroom. He combed his hair and looked at the mask in his hand. It wasn't a balaclava, non. It was made of plastic and was to be tied behind his head with a satin ribbon. The white face of the mask was elegantly painted: thin black eyebrows, black lips and golden sunbeams at the edge of it, a reference to Louis the fourteenth and his nickname, the Sun King.

He put the mask on and tied it behind his head.

"Meow?"

He smiled.

"Tu restes sage? Papa doit aller travailler."

[You stay quiet? Daddy has to go to work.]

Perle mewled and meowed, complaining about it. Lucien took her in his hands and got her close to his face. He pushed the mask up to stay on top of his head and kissed Perle a few times.

"C'est mieux?"

[Feel any better?]

She purred and brushed her head on his mouth to ask for more. He put her on his shoulder and went to grab his accessories. He couldn't go with a gun as he no doubt would be searched. He didn't need one anyway, so he took his cigarette case and his lighter.

Finally, he went by the main door and put Perle down before turning to the coat hanger and putting on a long black coat.

"Bien, mon bébé, Papa va travailler et va sûrement rentrer tard. Tu as de quoi boire et manger."

[Listen, my baby, Daddy will go to work and will surely come back late. You have enough to eat and drink.]

"Meow…" She walked in circles between his feet, brushing herself on his shoes and ankles.

Lucien opened the door.

"Ne m'attends pas pour aller te coucher et ne veilles pas trop tard, d'accord?"

[Don't wait for me to go to sleep and don't stay up too late, alright?]

"Meow."

Lucien crouched down and put his hands down in front of her. Perle jumped in his palms and he kissed her one last time. He scratched her head and put her back on the floor.

"À plus tard."

[See you later.]

Perle sat on the other side of the door.

"Meow."

He closed the door and waited for an instant. No meow. He smiled.

Lucien called the elevator and as it opened, he found Bastien inside.

"Oh, hey L."

Bastien pressed the button to get down to the ground floor.

"Ah, Bastien, this is a good surprise. I need you to get my car out, please."

"Sure. That's a mask you have on your head?"

"It is business."

"Ah, fair enough."

The doors rolled open and Bastien headed for the garage.

-- Maurice's street --

"Alright, seven sharp, here I am, you snob…" Mundy had parked his van at the usual spot in Maurice's street. He got out of it and leaned against it. "Hm."

He decided to wait with a cigarette. He lit one and puffed on it while watching the kids play. The sun was setting now and the air was still, only disturbed by the occasional breeze. Beggars passing by stared at the tall man dressed like an aristocrat from a couple of centuries before.

Mundy's ears pricked up. He heard an engine. But it wasn't the motorcycle he expected, neither was it the sound of an ordinary car engine.

"Bloody hell…"

The Panthera came along the street as if it was hovering above the asphalt itself. The dark blue sheen of it shone shyly under the lamp posts until it parked next to the van.

The window on the passenger's seat rolled down.

"I see you are on time." The French accent behind the mask said, not leaving the driver's seat or cutting off the engine.

"And you're late, Spook." Mundy peeked his head through the window. "Five minutes." He tapped his watch. "Did you need to adjust yer bloody mascara?"

Lucien rolled up his eyes with a smile.

"Get inside before I change my mind."

Mundy obeyed and the Frenchman drove off.

"Do you have your mask with you?" Lucien asked.

"Yeah, here."

"Good."

"Bloody hell, you must be one hell of a filthy rich bloke…" Mundy looked at the wooden and leather interior of the car. "Is this yours?"

"Do I look like I steal things?" Lucien asked.

"When you have yer balala-mask on, you do look like a thief."

They both chuckled and Lucien looked at his friend.

"But you're right, Spook, the seats here are much more comfy than those in my van. I've never seen a car like this, what's it called?"

"First, like your van, this car is a she. Second, unlike your van, she is a unique model."

"Yeah, well, quite unique."

"I mean it, Bushman. She is the only car of that model."

"Shut your mouth?!"

Lucien chuckled.

"Again and as always, feel free to think that I am not telling the truth. And as to her name, she is called the Panthera."

"Nice name. Posh, but it doesn't surprise me."

Lucien raised an eyebrow to Mundy and they exchanged what he meant as a conniving smile. Mundy smiled back, thinking he was graced with a flash of the Frenchman's pearly white teeth behind the white mask, through the hole for the mouth.

Lucien's eyes lingered on the Aussie while the Panthera raced through the desert, the last colours of the sky disappearing in the horizon.

"What?" Mundy asked, blushing slightly under L's gaze.

"You would make a stunning king's advisor, were we living in the eighteenth century. The costume suits you." Lucien said. Mundy was wearing a similar outfit to his, only it was dark red. But it had the same slight sheen on the trousers and the waistcoat was beautifully lined with velvet.

"It's horrible to wear. It sticks to my legs like slugs, the trousers are short and I don't get why I need golden bits on the waistcoat thing…"

"If that is any comfort, I spared you to be my Pompadour." Lucien said with a smirk.

"Your pump a what now?!"

"Pompadour, Lucien repeated. Louis the fifteenth had a lady who would entertain him, if you know what I mean. She was a countess and her name was Madame de Pompadour. Had you been a woman, I would have told Richard to go for Louis the fifteenth and her."

"Well thank God I'm not a sheila, eh…" Mundy answered. "Uh, speakin' of, how's yours?"

"Perle?" Lucien asked.

"Yeah, unless you changed."

Lucien chuckled.

"She is alright. I left her home alone and she didn't complain for the first time since we've known each other."

"Oh… She doesn't like it when you go away?"

"Non, she doesn't."

"Victoria told me that she doesn't like people either." Mundy said and Lucien hid his surprise. So Victoria had talked to each of them about the other, hm…?

"It is true. Perle is very… possessive of me. I would have said protective but she can hardly even protect herself."

"Ah, I see…" Mundy answered and there might have been a hint of sadness in his voice. "So, uh, what's the plan for tonight?"

"Mere observation. We collect any and all intelligence we can on Duchemin's security. How many men? What guns? What type of defense? How are they organised?"

"Hm, I see. So we just take a look-see, right?"

"Oui."

"Then why ask me to bring my blowgun. Also, it's called a blowgun, not a dartflute…"

Lucien looked at his friend.

"Well, I couldn't remember the name of it in English but you understood me anyway, non?"

"I did, even though you made absolutely no sense." Mundy teased.

"If you prefer, I could speak French." Lucien answered.

"Actually…"

The Frenchman looked at his passenger and raised an eyebrow.

"Been listenin' to a lot of French songs lately." Mundy admitted. "So uh, maybe I'd understand bits."

"Oh, in this case…" Lucien smiled. "Je te parlerai en Français."

[I will speak to you in French.]

"Wow, wow, wow, you gotta speak way slower, mate!"

"Ah, oui, pardon." Lucien cleared his throat and repeated comically slowly. "Jeee teee parleraiii Fraaaançaaais."

"Oi! No need to stretch it too much!"

"Make up your mind, Bushman!"

They both chuckled.

Lucien's eyes went back on the road.

"I think we are getting closer. Now, we will have to pretend that we are uh… romantically involved with one another."

"Do we have to?" Mundy asked.

"The idea of people seeing me getting less than a kilometre away from a man who uses jars as a bathroom disgusts me as much as you hate me, believe me."

"So why do we do this?”

"Because Duchemin is convinced that we are together."

"Together together?" Mundy asked.

"Oui, together together." Lucien answered.

"Bloody hell…"

"I know. So try and have some manners for tonight, and act as if you liked me."

"Well…"

"Come on, take this as a privilege." Lucien said.

"A privilege?"

"There are quite a few people who would give a lot to be in your shoes tonight." Lucien proudly explained.

"Yeah well, idiots exist."

"Bushman! Those are people of great taste!"

"Ah, and how d'you know that? Just cause they like a posh snob doesn't mean they have great taste, eh."

"Non, it is true. But they do not like a posh snob. They admire me." Lucien said.

"Ah yeah, the poshest of all the bloody snobs on Earth…" Mundy teased.

"Bushman!"

"Well ok, I'll try and not show that I can't stand ya."

"Likewise for me, although it won't be hard. I spent my life playing that game."

Mundy raised an eyebrow and was about to ask what Lucien meant but they soon arrived where they should be.

"Bloody hell, how many people can fit in this house…?"

"It is a palace."

"Yeah, more like a village. And look at the number of cars parked there, Gosh…"

They queued in the car until they arrived at the gate where an impressively built security guard asked for their invitation.

"Here is it." Lucien gave his. "And this is my plus one."

The guard raised his eyes over to Mundy, through Lucien's window, and the Aussie smiled and waved.

"G'day, mate, heh."

"Fine, you can get in. Your slot for the car is B15."

"Noted." Lucien answered. "Many thanks."

And he drove in, following the queue of cars. The parking lot might have been one for a supermarket. The Frenchman parked the car and both exited it. They took a moment to take in the view.

They were in the middle of the desert and this entire place looked like it had been unearthed from somewhere else altogether. The palace was made of white stones, projectors of multiple colours shone on it. The lights split the night sky in beams of colours.

"Bushman?"

Mundy snapped out of his daydream and looked in front of him. The King of France was waiting.

"Yeah, sorry Spook."

He followed Lucien to the entrance.

"Wait, before we get too close, M."

The Aussie turned his head.

"Yeah?"

"We have to drop the Bushman and Spook. It wouldn't make sense that we call each other that way."

"What should I call you then?" Mundy asked.

"Whatever you want, as long as it goes with the act."

"Alright."

"And put on your mask."

"Ah, yeah." Mundy put his own mask on his face and tried to tie it behind his head. "The ribbon… it doesn't want to stay in place, keeps slidin' off."

"Let me help." Lucien went behind Mundy and tied the mask for him. "Do you have a pair of gloves too?"

"Yeah, white ones, they were in my pocket."

"Put them on, please. We don't want to leave fingerprints."

"Ah, yeah, right."

They arrived at the entrance where another bouncer asked for their invitation. After inspection of it, he let them into the hall. Lucien and Mundy entered a room that looked so vast, Mundy could hardly see the walls at the end of it. But more strikingly, it was full of people and the lights were dim. Music was floating in the air and the Aussie saw an orchestra on a stage at the far left of them.

The guests were all wearing costumes too, such that it was hardly possible to know who was who in any other way than going and talking to them directly.

"Gosh, that's a lot of people…" Mundy said, feeling overwhelmed by it.

"Hey."

The Aussie lowered his eyes to the Frenchman.

"Take a deep breath."

Ah, yes. Mundy did as he was told.

"Stay close to me and everything will be fine, d'accord?"

[Alright?]

Mundy nodded. A waiter came to pass by and Lucien took two glasses off of his tray. He smelt them.

"Here. This is water. It will help."

Mundy drank a bit.

"I did not know you could not stand crowded areas." Lucien said.

"I don't care about it."

"What is it then?"

Mundy looked left and right.

"One of these bastards… He killed my parents."

"Oui. And he killed my soon-to-be wife, the only woman I ever-..." Lucien exhaled. "He killed her and my young son, a little angel who did nothing wrong on this Earth, my flesh and my blood." He clenched his teeth. "You have no idea what it feels like."

Mundy opened round eyes. He could feel the blood in Lucien boiling.

"I would gladly have died instead of them. I would have traded my life for theirs. What did they do all their lives to deserve this? She had lived honestly, a hard-working and loving woman. She even… She even gave me a gift no other person in the world could have. She made me a father. Each time our son would look up at me, I would feel like a man; a proper, whole and complete man. And she…" Lucien put his index on Mundy's chest and tapped it repeatedly. "She. Gave. That. To. Me."

The Frenchman was furious and it was something Mundy was genuinely frightened of. The look in his ice furious eyes seized him powerfully.

"She made me a man and that son of a whore took it away from me, stole it from me, killed it from me."

Lucien paused to catch his breath.

"I understand your uneasiness, M, but it is part of the price we have to pay." He splayed his white gloved hand flat on Mundy's dark red waistcoat. Like a reflex, he started dusting it off and adjusting its collar.

"The price we have to pay for what?"

"Me, for not going with Marie and Jérémy to protect them; you, for being away from your parents while they needed you equally."

Lucien raised his eyes to Mundy. Their masks hid their emotions but the words they used didn't. The Frenchman's hand laid flat on the Aussie's chest. Mundy put his hand on top.

"Let's both take a deep breath, and then go." He said with his husky voice.

Lucien nodded and they both inflated their chests with fresh air that cleaned their insides, before exhaling their troubles away.

"Well, a moment has passed; back to work." Lucien said and Mundy nodded. "Will you be alright?"

"Yeah, thanks for… for everythin'."

Lucien nodded and removed his hand.

"Let us walk around and see what the security looks like."

"I'm with you."

Both men walked in the vast room, slithering through dresses and robes, suits and togas. Their eyes darted and scanned, security agents here and CCTV cameras there.

"Security people don't all look the same." Mundy said.

"Which means he has hired different private companies. Hm. This man knows he is a moving target."

"Yeah, loads of cameras too."

"And I would bet that some of his guests are none other than security agents in disguise." Lucien added.

"How are we gonna get to him then…?"

"I do not know yet. But we will, trust me."

A voice slashed through their conversation.

"Ah! If it isn't Sun king of singing, Lulu!"

Lucien raised his eyes to Mundy before turning to the man addressing him.

#tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #sniperspy #SBT

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early2000smovieimagines · 4 years

Text

Meeting and Dating Henry Creedlow

(My gif/it’s really hard to find clips of this movie)(requested by anonymous)

(Sorry for the long wait!)

- You met Henry while working at the Bruiser magazine company. You didn't exactly work “together” but you worked in the same building and sometimes on the same tasks at different times. Often, the only times you actually saw him were during company meetings and the little breaks you had before and after them, or during lunch.

- Part of you pitied him from the moment you met him. He was walked all over and ignored for... well, no reason at all. You rooted for him any moment you could and yet he could never prevail. Maybe that was why you tried to be as nice as you could to him.

- And your kindness didn't go unnoticed. Sometimes talking to you about pointless things for two minutes was the highlight of his day. You were pretty much the only person he could stand to be around and really looked forward to seeing everyday.

- Soon those feelings of admiration and respect morphed into something beyond what he intended. He grew to develop feelings for you, real romantic feelings that had him yearning for you every time you graced his eyes.

- Yet nothing ever happened between you two since he was married, granted it was to a cheating bitch but still, married nonetheless.

- Then came that fateful day when his world and your own was turned upside down. You spent half the day glued to a television screen and your telephone to listen to the news of everything that was happening. You couldn't believe it and yet you had to. Because later that day you’d meet your former coworker face to face and see for yourself everything that had happened.

- It was late in the evening, you were getting ready for your bosses awful costume party when all of a sudden there was a knock at your window. At first you figured it was a bird or branch but when it persisted and grew what could only be considered frantic you hesitantly decided you needed to check it out.

- You grabbed a shoe for self defense and made your way to the window. When you pulled back the curtain there was nothing. Growing more confident, you opened the window... and shrieked as a figure popped into view.

- You threw the shoe in your hand at it and moved back to grab whatever else you could find before you recognized the familiar chuckle and voice.

“A shoe? Really? You really are too good for this shitty town y/n.” You slowly made your way over as he crawled in through your open window.

- You couldn’t keep your eyes off the “mask” on his face and he took notice, explaining everything that had happened and why he was there. He needed your help but more than anything else he wanted you to go away with him once he’d completed what he set out to do.

- It took you a few minutes to decide what you wanted to do. He knew he was asking for a lot but he held on hope... and for good reason because after a deep breath you agreed.

- After helping him evade the police one last time, the two of you were on your way to a new town, ready to start a new life together.

- The two of you shared your first kiss a few days later. You were both sat in the darkness of your hotel room, the moon peeking through the curtains providing you with a faint light. It was late but neither of you were all that tired, instead you were thinking about all that had happened and what was going to happen.

“I’m so glad that you came with me.” He interrupted the silence and you smiled at him warmly.

“I’d follow you anywhere.” You said softly.

- The both of you watched each other for a long moment before he rose, walking over to where you were sitting and taking your face in his hands. Your eyes closed as his face neared yours, his lips brushing against your own before finally claiming them.

- Fate sealed by a kiss. You weren’t going to turn back now and you certainly didn’t want to.

- We can all agree that the hippie/stoner thing was not a good look for him. You persuade him to go for better, much more flattering disguise.

- He’s a fan of getting and giving nicknames. It makes him feel important when you call him something sweet or special.

- Innocent pda. He doesn't care for full blown making out in public but he likes quick kisses, hand holding, and having his arm around you.

- He gives a lot of compliments, ones that every woman dreams of hearing.

“I see a beautiful woman with great value.”

- I feel like even though Henry’s gone through a lot he hasn’t really changed too much? Like he’s still kinda awkward and sweet and a romantic at heart.

- The two of you have a lot of long conversations about nothing in particular. You usually jump from topic to topic, oftentimes pointless ones. He really just loves being able to talk to someone no matter what it is he’s talking about.

- Watching him exercise in the morning and struggling not to pull him back into bed with you.

- Getting kisses blown at you. What else can I say, he’s an adorable man.

- He likes pressing his forehead against yours after he kisses you or while you’re dancing together in your kitchen.

- Remembering things for him, whether it be where he last left his keys or a meeting he’d forgotten about.

- Even though he has a dodgy memory he never forgets your birthday or anniversary, they’re just too important to him.

- He loves listening to your stories and the hearing about your interests. He never gets tired of learning things about you.

- You’re the only person he lets himself be a pushover for. He doesn’t mind giving into you just to see the smile on your face.

- Wearing his dress shirts. You make it very hard for him to focus on anything else whenever you do.

- The two of you have movie marathons almost every week. You never fail to fall asleep halfway through one of them and always feel kinda bad for snoozing on him. But he doesn’t mind, he likes carrying you to bed; it’s a strange comfort of his.

- He prefers quiet evenings with you rather than any party or event. Dates are usually at a nice restaurant or some place where the two of you can relax or have a little innocent fun.

- He kind of lets you do whatever you want to him as long as it’s harmless. Want to put makeup on him? A face mask? Paint his nails? Whatever makes you happy darling.

- Praising him any chance you get because he damn well deserves it. He always gives you this shy smile when you do and tries to humbly brush off your compliments as he blushes.

- Sometimes he likes to pull you close and recite different rhymes or poems to you as you relax against him.

- The way you cuddle depends on you. He isn’t particular, he’s just happy to have you near him.

- Being woken up to him whispering your name and pressing kisses to your skin.

- Giving him rides to work, you both enjoy having the company during your tiresome commutes.

- Stopping him from listening to those awful radio shows in the morning.

- Recording an answering machine message together.

- Shoulder kisses while he hugs you from behind.

- Sitting on his lap.

- He’s a little clingy. He just really loves being around and touching you.

- He’s never afraid to tell you he loves you but other than that he struggles to put into words how much you men to him. Oftentimes he’ll settle on how “he cant live without you” or how you’re “the best thing that’s ever happened to him”.

- I feel like he tries to hide it for as long as he can whenever he gets sick or hurt. You usually notice it yourself pretty quickly and force him to let you take care of him. He has to admit that it feels nice having someone fuss over and care about him.

- Kinda likes being called sir...and being begged.

- Hand kisses.

- He’s probably stolen your sunglasses more than once.

- He likes surprising you with gifts, anything from flowers to a diamond necklace.

- He always tries to help you with whatever he can no matter how big or how small.

- He’s extremely protective of you, the very thought of losing you or having you hurt tears him apart. Remember that he’s capable of murder, depending on the situation... things may get messy.

- Learning to like, or ignore, the taste of blood.

- Sometimes listening to his morbid stories and the things he thinks about. He doesn’t tell you about them often but occasionally you’ll get a glimpse inside his head.

- Henry is definitely a jealous guy. He doesn’t like any guy coming near or even looking at you unless there’s an actual reason for it. He thinks the worst of people and doesn’t them around you. He’ll interject and lead you away from them unless they’re family or what he deems harmless.

- For the most part, he trusts you... but he also trusted Janine and she cheated on him. It may take him a little while to fully believe that you would never do the same, just don’t take it personally.

- Fights never really escalate beyond the bickering stage and are usually about more serious topics so they happen rarely. Often times the two of you have a short argument that’s resolved just as quickly as it began.

- Trying your best to make him a little less pessimistic. He admits that you brighten up his day when things go sour.

- He always tries his best to comfort you when you’re stressed or upset. He hates seeing you anything but happy because he thinks that’s what you deserve to be for the rest of your life, perfectly content.

- Supporting each other through thick and thin. He’s always there for you no matter what and you make sure to return the favor.

- Henry’s a smart guy so I feel like he wouldn't have trouble getting a pretty good job once he’s able to sort out his new life and forge some documents, especially if you decide to settle into a small town together.

- He’s happy to create new memories with you and forget about the past.

- The world may be an awful place but he’s happy to have found the one good person within it.

#henry creedlow #henry creedlow imagine #henry creedlow headcanons #henry creedlow headcanon #bruiser #bruiser movie #bruiser headcanons #bruiser headcanon #bruiser imagine #bruiser 2000 #early 2000s #2000s movies #2000s movie imagine #2000s movie headcanons #2000s movie headcanon

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lizzybeth1986 · 5 years

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Quick Thoughts on The White People Waambulance, Chapters 18 and 19

• Sorry this QT is coming out so late, guys. I regret to say my heart wasn't really in this one...and it hasn't been with regards to my QTs for a while. This one might be my last, unless we count me finishing them off for the (not rewritten) Book 1. It's been two years since I began, and the last two books made the process honestly really exhausting.

• I clubbed the two finale chapters together because I really couldn't be bothered to do separate ones for both.

• In fact...I won't be doing any of what I have been doing for my QTs so far. I'll be honest to you: I usually do multiple replays, the last few in tandem with the other routes on YouTube. I go through the scenes one by one. I keep note of differences and variations and carefully choose screenshots that will reflect the gist of the scenes.

But I couldn't be bothered to do any of that this time. I pressed the "continue" and then the "end book" buttons as soon as I finished my first run of those chapters. I'm drained, guys. And I don't think I'll be coming back to the TRH series at least, not even for Liam or Hana or Kiara. Maybe my mind will change by the time the second book comes out (update from present-day Lizzy: no it didn't) but I'm not counting on it. And you'll probably know why by the time this QT ends.

• TW: Discussions on racism, both fandom racism and from within the narrative. The last section of this QT is going to be...pretty heavy, guys.

There's also going to be a lot of anti-Drake, anti-Olivia, anti-Madeleine and anti-Penelope content here, so if you like any of those characters...well, you've been warned.

The ensuing post is going to be LONG, and I know a lot of you have good reasons not to deal with long posts, so here's a tldr:

1. The TRR writing team stick to their weird obsession for jobless whiny white men.

2. Read this book once and you'll feel like you're drowning in an ocean of white tears.

3. WOC continue to get scraps from the writing team, even as they boast of being diverse and inclusive. In fact, they're regularly treated as mere tokens, exotic eye-candy or non-entities, while their behaviour is measured on standards that are very different from their white counterparts (this happens in other books as well).

...okay I wasn't expecting for the tldr to be long too 😅

• Me @ my QTs then:

Me @ my QTs now:

• I'll probably be finishing off my TRR Book 1 QT series when I'm a little less burnt out, but for now this is where it ends, I guess.

• So...here is to summarize the last two chapters: Accident happens. LIs mad. Paparazzi sad (but largely get away scot-free). MC and baby safe. At the Council meeting Kiara slam dunks the murderer of Liam's mother with the style and elegance this fandom still refuses to acknowledge her for. The MC is nice to her for like half a second. Last Apple Ball. New clothes for everyone as if they had a Diwali bumper sale the week before or something. Godfrey is somehow responsible for the security (who thought this was a good idea) and seeing the Auvernese Royal Guard outside our doors is SO not-creepy.

We get to see if we impressed our Auvernese and Monterriso allies enough. Bradshaw compliments Kiara for like half a second. Olivia sees the dude from the Q&A session (Jin) at the Ball and (if you pay) you get to see her catch, interrogate and lowkey flirt with him.

Leona and Bianca make it to the ball (where is Bartie Sr. Where are Xinghai and Lorelei. Where is Regina) and this time the narrative makes sure to shoehorn a plot element into their presence here: Leona is there so we can do something about the reveal that she constantly ratted us out to the press for money. ("oh look! Walker Ranch was plot related after all! We have a reason (albeit a flimsy, paper-thin one) to set 9 whole chapters in Texas. Even though we had to literally come up with this bit in the last minute, because really - all we wanted to do as a writing team was nut collectively over Drake Walker")

(I also can't believe that between the time I wrote this line and the time this QT finally came out - they literally found a way to re-fucking-write Book 1 so they could nut collectively over Drake Walker earlier)

• Why were we required to dress down in Texas for these assholes when they couldn't even bother to dig up their Sunday best for this ball??? Oh right, they're Walkers. Hypocrisy runs in the family.

• Good thing is you can choose to banish Leona if you want. She's angry about it for a second then accepts it and leaves. But like what is the point of banishing her when she hardly even bothers to come there in the first place? She's not going to be bawling her eyeballs out saying "boohoo, they threw me out of this country that I spent like five minutes in and never even wanted to visit in the first place".

• Bianca is present at the end of Chapter 18 mainly to deliver to us a plot point at the very last minute: a clue about where we could find proof about Queen Eleanor's murder. Bianca mentions conversations Jackson had with her, and a secret room somewhere. Her leaving the palace and abandoning her children is addressed, and the MC gets to berate her. It's...short.

• Why this important piece of information was given to Bianca when idk LEO could have pitched in and spoken about it, no one knows. Oh wait. I keep forgetting. Bianca is Drake's mother. That's why.

• Okay so Amalas valiantly found out about Leona's involvement in this and gave us tangible proof via photographs. But we're kiiiinda forgetting that the scrutiny and privacy invasions were happening even before we hauled ass to Walker Ranch? Who was responsible for those? Who was the "source" that the Chapter 17 paparazzo was referring to, the one that mentioned they would triple the price for more photos of the Queen/Mother of the Heir (Coz like why would she do that. She's already broke)? How did Amalas come by this information so easily and why was she really that invested? Why is no one asking these questions? Why isn't the group asking these questions? Why are they stupid. Jesus, they're all so stupid. HOW ARE YOU SO STUPID, SQUAD.

• Shortly after they get rid of Leona and Bianca, the rest of the group give the happy couple a choice of toys for the nursery - and that's our final nursery purchase. You can either go for the corgi - which is on brand for the series by now I think - or the lion, which is seen as very Cordonian.

• More party shenanigans. We're nice to Kiara for another half-second. Kiara arranges a photoshoot for us. The team can't pretend to give a fuck anymore about its fans so they will ask us to pay for an edit that I've seen millions of edit-creators in the fandom do wayyyy better. Like let's be honest - compare the engagement shoot pics (messy as they were) to the shoots we eventually got this book. You can see the difference. You can tell which one required more work.

• Anyway, if you choose this scene you wind up going back to the ballroom, dance with your spouse, aaaaand it's time for another diamond option. This time your spouse gives you something you've been craving (mousse parfait for the Liam MC, chocolate chip cookies for the Hana MC, handmade chocolates for the Maxwell MC and a choice between bacon and a veg version of it for the Drake MC. Damn, team TRR. Your favouritism is showing). The couple also writes a letter to the baby that the child can read growing up, in a bit of a parallel to Eleanor's letter to Liam that we see at the end of the chapter.

• After this, Liam reveals he has been pondering over what Bianca said, and wants to find out where they could find that secret room. Cue Liam's own flashback scene for free. Godfrey bringing to Queen the same goblet that the RoE MC found in a flea market in Book 2 for Regina (or perhaps just a similarish one). Liam and Eleanor reciting a rhyme that turns out to have clues for the secret room.

• To give the team credit, they seem to have (finally) put some thought into this. Like this actually feels like Liam's scene. Not one that delivers information about his family but is really about another character. They seem to incorporate all the things Eleanor seemed to be known for - things that were hardly addressed in the books when it came to talk of her. She is shown with a love for books given that books and poetry form an important part of the clues she leaves for Liam. One of the books is about foraging, which is unsurprising considering her love for gardens that was established in Book 1 of TRR.

• So...like...nice job but why was practically everything about Eleanor (including the way she'd stand up to Constantine, her displeasure at the sound of Godfrey and Bartie's names, her nature that Liam not only inherited but also learned) left only for your finale? Why no buildup? Why was I seeing you lot constantly pandering to Drake's family the entire time? Why do I know way, way more about Jackson than I do about Eleanor whose story this WAS? Why is she and her son suddenly getting this burst of attention at the tail end??

• They still manage to push young!Drake into a scene focusing on Liam and Eleanor, so we can see how Eleanor's teaching of how to be a responsible royal began to make inroads into Liam's way of thinking. It's the ultimate irony, that Liam took his mother's advice so much to heart that he lets Drake stay in his home, eat his food, and complain about those dastardly nobles to his heart's content for free.

Poor Eleanor in her grave is like

• Very fitting, how Constantine's proposal to Eleanor happens in the hedge maze, very much like Liam's first declaration of love in Book 1.

• If you're married to Liam, you get an extra letter that's addressed to Liam's future wife. She clearly knew her days were to be numbered by the time she gave birth to that second child at least.

• Lmao @ how the team somehow managed to remember that Eleanor would have been Leo's stepmother too. He's mentioned a couple of times. They didn't have enough time to develop a sprite for young!Leo but somehow had all the time and resources to make one for young!Savannah who had literally no purpose in Drake's flashback scene? Hmm. Hmm.

• They somehow manage to find the twin to the RoE MC's gifted goblet that Godfrey gave Eleanor the night she died, and Liam reveals that he's been obsessed with poisons enough to know that it wasn't the drink that was poisoned, it was the cup itself. Everyone is shook.

• Love that extra little detail about Liam's obsession with learning about poisons and how it's a sign of how deeply Eleanor's death affected him. But tell me honestly if you remember this plot point coming up even once before in any significant way. Even during the one time a person is poisoned in the previous book (by the laws of karma, the victim in this instance is Godfrey's only daughter) Liam shows very few signs of this "obsession". At a time when he has also lost a father. Convenient how something that could have added more depth to Liam is kept aside until there's a scene where his knowledge is required. Convenient indeed.

• I kind of understand why Liam acts on impulse, okay. The man just discovered who murdered his mum, at least some amount of irrationality is allowed (esp considering he hardly got to express ANYTHING when his goddamn father died). But you'd think Liam's friends would hold him back and help him think this through? Convince him that there are more effective ways to confront and get a confession out of Godfrey who after is in charge of security at the moment? You seriously think charging into the ballroom and suddenly stripping this man of his titles is going to actually work??? You couldn't figure out how to make him vulnerable instead so that he wouldn't be able to escape???

• I mean like, sure, one could always rationalize it all as "well see Lizzy, they needed a dramatic end to this story and they needed to wrap this mystery up quick". But there were other ways they could have spread it out than make it all sound so...so random. And you bet we all know why the narrative had to scramble around last minute to solve this. It's because we spend half the damn book in a dilapidated ranch with a shit family!

• Anyway, Godfrey escapes...and the MC tells her spouse that she's going into labour after...two contractions? Um. Okay.

• So. That ends Book 1 of this new series. And with it my QTs, for this series at least. My QTs for Book 1 (the OG, not the rewrite) might continue, but I'd need to repeat my failplay again because I lost most of those screenshots 😭

General Thoughts on the Book:

• So far, this is what I can see as happening in the next book:

- The birth, obviously

- Any extra perks from our purchases (ie. the nursery and the garden)

- Subplots involving the LIs' conflicts regarding parenthood and their own childhoods

- The mystery behind Eleanor's death isn't quite over yet, nor is the truth behind the constant paparazzi presence in TRH. Leona was the scapegoat this time around, but how did Amalas get all this information so quickly?

- Where is Eleanor's other child? Olivia's investigations may or may not lead to that answer. I'm pretty sure Jin might be involved as well.

- Another possibility is that Madeleine may give us important information since she was potentially aware that Eleanor was pregnant at the time.

- The mystery behind Jackson's death and what he knew regarding Eleanor's condition.

- What part did Bartie Sr have to play in all this? How involved was Constantine in the murder (if in fact he was)? What more dark secrets will we learn about Constantine, Godfrey and Bartie Sr during this time? What ultimately caused the breakdown in Constantine and Jackson's relationship, since Drake mentions Jackson being around when Regina was Queen as well?

- Speaking of Regina, how involved was she in any of this? We know she was Godfrey's cousin-in-law and Bartie Sr made a comment on her during the announcement about the heir, and that she married Constantine a couple years after Eleanor's death, but was she aware of any of this or was she largely out of the major plot and brought in later to cement Godfrey's position and power?

- I'd mention the possibility that Lorelai could know something, but they didn't really give anyone connected to Hana any time at all, so I have my doubts.

- Operation Swan, and possibly a visit to Monterisso. Liam's younger sibling must be in one of these places but my guess is on Monterisso.

- I'm guessing the team will write a nice wedding for Penelope and Ezekiel next book, while Kiara continues to get scraps from the same team.

- Drake and Olivia will continue to eat into the plot. Madeleine will join this unholy trinity as well because they've set the stage for her to have plenty of angst.

With that over, these were my thoughts once this book was finished:

WHERE ARE THE DUCHESSES?

Remember how, back in Book 3, we all marvelled at the number of women in this country who were in positions of power? Adeleide and Emmeline were powerful duchesses while their husbands were secondary figures, and Joelle though married into a noble family is an influential artist and - according to Liam - the embodiment of King Fabian's values. It seemed like, despite the underlying sexism and racism in the story, women were at least at the forefront of Cordonian politics.

This is virtually gone in TRH1. Godfrey (who wasn't even interested in Krona in the first place, much less Cordonia) and Landon (whose only concern seemed to be Penelope, leaving Emmeline to manage the duchy) have a seat in the Council. In fact we never even see either of these woman in the book. I can maybe understand the logic behind not appointing Adeleide, but the fact that Emmeline is passed over for her far-less -qualified husband is a mystery to me!

Also, has anyone noticed how white-male-centered the whole Eleanor story is? Notice how we never see Eleanor's friends, besides Jackson? We never see any of the courtly ladies of that era? She's the Queen. She'd have her own court. I find it impossible that Eleanor would have no interactions of importance among her own goddamned court, that Joelle, Emmeline or Adeleide wouldn't even be mentioned in her story thus far. It's fascinating that forget being part of her story - these women are largely forgotten in the book itself.

(Note: It's also important to add that none of Kiara's family - besides Zeke - makes an appearance this book. At all. One member of Penelope's family and one member of Madeleine's family is in the council, but we never really see or hear anything from Kiara's, even though Hakim was Constantine's old friend and Joelle could have easily been connected to Eleanor, given that Eleanor was exactly the kind of ruler Joelle would have loved and respected.

While we're on that subject, Lorelai could have been connected to Eleanor as well - considering that we know next to nothing about her years in Shanghai. There were ways Hana's story could have been tied into the overall plot as well that were largely ignored. The fact that both the main and secondary WOCs presented opportunities for better plot and story, and despite that they were largely ignored in the books...I think that says a lot. But I will get into more of that in detail in a different section).

LI SPACE AND STORY

• Now...as we all know, The TRR/TRH series is primarily a romance-focused book first, with an underlying plot about royalty and politics. So it makes sense to evaluate the book based on what it gives its love interests. That includes the number of scenes they get, and the kind of focus their story is given. So...here's the rundown of how that goes in TRH Book 1:

Liam: Overall, not too bad. He gets one individual scene, a free and paywalled childhood scene (though the free one is essential for the group's realization of who killed Eleanor). The letter his mother writes to Liam includes an extra section towards the end, meant for the MC who marries him. However, we must note that a lot of this "attention" was thrust into the very final chapter of this book, and 99% of the same book didn't exactly make an attempt to explore his inner thoughts on anything - his mother's death, the dealings with the foreign countries, his political activities. Eleanor being pregnant came from a scene that made Olivia the center of attention, the MC had the opportunity to ask him how he was feeling only once or twice, and most of the time the narrative relegated it all to "the matter is still being investigated". It's a slight improvement from the absolute lack of concern the MC and the narrative showed about Liam's emotional state post his father's death in Book 3, but not much.

Variations wise, the team did step up on the basic ones for most of the LIs, so clearly we've moved past the days of seeing cut-paste scenes and the likes of Liam and Hana saying "I'm so dumb in love with you". However, in playthroughs where the MC is Liam's wife and Queen of Cordonia, her lack of genuine concern for her country and lack of curiosity about the place she's ruling, sticks out like a sore thumb. The fandom loves to highlight how the plot is "written for Liam" or is "easier in Liam's playthrough", but besides his own child being the heir, nothing else from Book 3 onwards seems like it was particularly written with him in mind.

Drake: Hoo boy. So 2019 was clearly the year that many people didn't believe me about Drake eating up space, and the year they had to eat their words because in TRH it was too obvious to be ignored. On an overall scale you cannot avoid the extra perks even his LI scenes got - his Valtoria scene in Chapter 4 was longer, set in a different place and he was allowed to expand on his decision to say yes to Liam's request in a way Hana and Maxwell never were. We learned way more about his familial relationships and dynamics than all the LIs combined. His childhood scene was the first to be given variants depending on whether the MC was his wife or not. His sister's wedding takes up almost half the book, leaving little to no space for either the intrigue, or even the pregnancy that was supposed to be THE most important part of the book.

An insane amount of retconning was done to emphasize strongly on the "marshmallow" part of his personality, having him state time and again that for the MC he can even "sport a tutu if you said you had a thing for the Sugar Fairy". Part of these changes could be attributed to the backlash the team got for having him call a pink cake "girly".

There is a strong possibility that Jackson might be explored further in the second book, and it's no surprise considering that he's the one parent that is most talked about in the series. The book looks like it was truly written with Drake in mind, with a heavy dose of Olivia, and everyone else was added as a bit of an afterthought.

Maxwell: Pretty awful treatment for a character that the head writer of the team claims to like. He has no individual character scenes, and one childhood scene where his older brother Bertrand is given more focus. Ironically, Maxwell was more wary of Bartie Sr in TRR Book 2 than Bertrand was, but somehow they changed this little detail so that Maxwell could be written out of his own story.

His LI scenes were also not given much effort - some were badly written, and some scenes (like the free ones) showed little to no variations between the friendly and romantic playthroughs. One that comes to mind is the baby announcement photoshoot, which was so poorly done it added nothing of value to the character or the relationship.

Like the last book, Maxwell isn't allowed much development in TRH1, and he's still forced into a largely "court jester" role in the story. This reflects very poorly on him in certain situations, such as the chapter where we finally get glimpses of his book. The aim was to be humourous and light about the events of the series, but he comes out of it sounding thoroughly insensitive towards his friends, none of whose consent he took to write this self-centered pile of garbage.

However, there is hope that they might do things a bit better for him next book, if the rewrite of him in TRR 2.0 was anything to go by. However, it would be awful if they tried to do a better job of him and then left out Hana. Speaking of which...

Hana: I'm going to begin this section with a comparison to another character, someone who should have been treated as a secondary character - Olivia.

Olivia in this book has 2 character scenes (they're very plot driven, but they also explore her outside of her friendship with the MC and dynamic with the group). The spy scene with Auvernese royalty, and the scene with Jin, the Auvernese spy. An entire chapter is spent in her duchy (by now we've seen Lythikos four times and I'm now sick of the place), and she winds up taking over Maxwell's Q&A scene as well.

So that's technically 2.5 scenes AND a childhood scene that revolves around her even though it's about Liam's mother. In addition to this, Olivia also gets her own mini-book, The Royal Holiday, that revolves (again) around her duchy and has the group clamouring to give her attention when no one else wants to.

Here are the stats for Hana, who by virtue of being an LI, is also a potential co-protagonist in the series:

Nothing.

Zilch. Zip. Zero. Nada. Nothing.

She has one childhood scene that is part of the group's scenes - a beautiful, heartbreaking one that serves as a slap in the face to anyone who'd dared to be dismissive of what she went through earlier - but none after that, and no individual scenes either. The team - in one of their most offensive choices this book - force a storyline where she has fertility issues just so the MC can be the one carrying the child, and the same MC can opt(!!) to ask about her well-being after two days. The same MC has the chance to whine about not getting pregnant soon enough in front of Hana.

There have been a few efforts made to make the MC appear more caring towards Hana: she can angrily defend Hana against Isabella's jibes, and she can make Hana relax for once during the baby shower (unlike the wedding reception where the same MC treated her like a bridesmaid). The MC even gets to tell her wife that she should never consider herself secondary or unimportant.

All of these are nice, but at the end of the day they're all scraps. I'd equate it to how we're allowed to give Kiara compliments on the final two chapters, but the white women around her still get a far bigger chunk of space, story and attention dedicated to them. The team have a pattern of adding these tiny tidbits that will temporarily satisfy stans while still maintaining the status quo, and that's precisely what's happening here. Its important for us to understand this. Underneath all this surface concern and all these scraps, Hana is still getting dust in place of actual story and characterization. And given that they made ZERO major changes to Hana's scenes in TRR 2.0, I'm not expecting that to change.

As for the book in general...I don't have to go into why this book is a mess, do I? We all know. We've all witnessed how disproportionate the writing has been and while I'm glad more and more people recognize what I've been seeing since Book 3, it's sad that it took 9 whole chapters in Walker Ranch for so many to understand exactly how much space Drake has been eating up for no good reason.

BLACK HOLES AND WHITE TEARS

I'll begin this section by talking about Drake Walker. He's the most prominent sign of the larger problem.

Drake Walker is what I call a Black Hole LI. And yes I mean black hole as in the one that exists in space (Beckett from TE also fits into this category). He is the kind of LI that sucks up everything. Love. Light. Joy. Common sense. Other characters' spaces.

He is the kind of love interest that will have Liam's traumatic experience centered around him. The kind of love interest for whose problems - largely created by his mammoth ego - we have to resolve in Shanghai, the home of the lone female LI. While that same female LI gets nothing, and then disappears in a subsequent chapter. The kind of love interest whose love confession can take precedence even over the MC's own issues (remember the Beaumont House chapter in Book 1? The one that took place the day after Tariq nonconsensually kissed the MC? 98% of the dialogue revolved around Drake's feelings. Not about the faulty lock, not the possibility that the MC's security had been tampered with - Drake's feelings). The kind of love interest that was given an entire extra wedding and artwork for his mother in Book 3 itself - none of which were given to any other LI.

A Black Hole LI is totally the kind of LI that would get 9 whole chapters in their home while we have never even visited the homes of the others since the early books of the previous series.

This wasn't something that began just this book. It's been a constant since Book 2, and you can even see signs of his story gaining way more importance in Book 1. It's also not something we can - in all honesty - blame simply on finances and fan popularity: the writers confirmed Drake to be one of their favourites, and attempts to give his scenes additional perks (eg plot elements pushed into both the Whiskey scene and the Beaumont Office scene) happened long before they could make any conclusions about his popularity. I bought the Beaumont Office scene to find out more about that family. I bought the Marshmallow scene so I could find out more about Liam and Hana's conversation post Coronation (remember - Hana was never even allowed to speak about her return to Cordonia because that scene was given to Drake). I bought the Italian Restaurant scene to learn more about Liam's assassination. The funny thing about all these three is that these were their stories to tell, yet Drake is the focus. Quite a few of Drake's initial scenes sold because the team consistently made the effort, consistently ensured that the information from his scenes would benefit us in the long run. The narrative allowed for Drake to have his own story, and additionally let aspects of his story overshadow that of the other LIs' (see the examples I've given above). Even though he has very little of value to contribute to the larger story (no job, his friendships are shallower than a wash-basin, and no genuine communication with any commoner in the story - only endless whining).

The treatment Drake gets that no other LI does, is a problem in itself, but it also is a small part of an even bigger issue. He isn't the only white character who gets this sort of attention and detail to his story.

Take Olivia, for example. Started out as a rival to the MC, before her sad sad childhood and her genuine love for Liam was revealed in the Book 1 finale. Over the course of the story, her role changed from petty rival to Warrior Duchess to reluctant bff. Over the course of the original series, Olivia became one of the most prominent characters in the story, on par with the male LIs. I'm not sure how many people realize that Lythikos is the ONLY duchy in the kingdom we've seen thrice (four times if you count Holiday). To give you an idea of how big a deal that is, here's how many times we've visited other duchies besides the capital and Applewood:

Fydelia - 2

Portavira - 1

Castelserraillian - 1

Ramsford (the home of our sponsors!) - 1

Hana's mother's home - Never.

Lythikos has a detailed familial and cultural history, and I wouldn't be lying if I said we know more about this one region than we know about the entire country of Cordonia. And honestly for me, the obsession with this one duchy has reached saturation point. Lythikos is not Cordonia. Lythikos is not all there is to Cordonia or even the only place that should matter. Yet it seems the team is more than eager to flog that horse until there's nothing of interest left.

Olivia is the only character who gets an entire mini book that revolves around comforting her and making her feel better about her background and origins. I don't think we've ever given Hana this much attention when she left her home for us. Or when she was being bullied by Madeleine. Or when she was the other bride in that grand wedding. Or when we received the news that carrying a child to term would be dangerous for her body. Or --

We were given an entire mini-book to comfort Olivia - the woman who continued to call Hana "damaged goods" and " a failure" for not marrying a man, while Hana's friend/wife stood by and watched. The woman who didn't have to think twice before making snide remarks about an equally skilled courtier who never did her any harm, only because she could get away with it. Istg when I heard that most of the court snubbed her during that first event in Holiday, this was my reaction:

Like girl I feel bad for you but at least now you know how it feels to be held responsible for shit beyond your control!

Hana, in the meantime, is forced time and again into situations that would break most people - but with very little payoff. Her arc with her parents was given a resolution that confirmed that Hana could only be considered worthy if she was useful. She was made to interact time and again with the woman who harmed her with such glee in Book 2. The MC - as a friend or as a wife - is at best neglectful of her issues and at worst someone who uses and discards Hana as she sees fit. And now...in her romantic playthrough she's given a storyline that doesn't allow her to bear children easily, and the MC spends less than two minutes to actually check on her. Hana is one of the co-protagonists, yet a side character given the treatment she should be getting. One could technically blame finances for the way she's being treated too, but keep in mind that the bad treatment goes as far back as the Applewood chapters in Book 1. Technically a time when she was bringing in money.

I get it. Olivia is a fan favourite. Many in the fandom wanted her to be an LI, the writers didn't, so they carved out this middle path where she'd have a major portion of the story anyway. But keep in mind that a lot of this attention came - and is still coming - at the cost of Hana. The team pretty much gave Olivia what they'd been refusing to give Hana all along.

On a smaller scale, you see similar patterns with the secondary characters - especially the women of the court. Madeleine and Penelope had elaborate backstories designed to make people forgive and sympathize with them, and Kiara - even though her backstory in Book 1 was inherently tragic and deserved to be handled sensitively - was given validation with great reluctance from the team, and with no consequences if we treated her cruelly. Even now, the team has only tossed Kiara a couple of scraps in the final chapter, while already setting the stage for Madeleine to get her own tragic "patriotism" arc for TRH Book 2, and a possible wedding for Penelope in the near future.

The difference here doesn't just lie in who gets attention and who doesn't. It lies in how the MC is supposed to view these women as well. A lot more sympathy and understanding is automatically extended to the white women, and the MC faces consequences if she fails to acknowledge their pain. Far less sympathy is offered by default to the black and the Asian woman - the MC may be friends with Hana but a huge chunk of their relationship is mostly about the MC benefiting from Hana's skills without giving much in return.

Even though their misdeeds are acknowledged and spoken about, both Madeleine and Penelope are written in such a way that the problems they're currently facing matter more than anything they've ever done in the past. Hana is made to sweet-talk Madeleine despite being bullied by her in a previous book. The MC herself never gets ANY opportunity to directly address what Penelope put her through in Portavira, because what the MC went through matters less than Penelope's condition.

Compare this to the relatively small scale of Kiara's "misdeed" (being honest about not continuing with an alliance - I'm surprised people think this is an actual thing to be offended about!), and the way the MC is allowed to mistreat her sans consequences afterwards. We're even allowed to call Kiara a snob in the books - which isn't at all true if you look at any of her scenes in canon - and constantly make fun of her desire to learn (in fact, if anyone in the series could be called a snob, it would be Olivia). If I were to sum up how a woman of colour is spoken about in the books, vs a white woman - this screenshot would do the trick:

(Notice how none of the options to speak about Penelope allow us to speak rudely of her, yet in Kiara's case we're allowed to make judgements on her as a person. In Hana's case, while we don't exactly drag her the way we can drag Kiara - we get precious few opportunities to actually defend or support her when others talk rubbish about her).

When you explore the series overall, it's impossible to ignore the casual racism that makes disrespecting people of a certain race/colour easier than on another. It's impossible not to see where the narrative chooses to give consequences to an MC who treats a white woman badly, and where it allows the very same MC to suspect, and then (optionally) gaslight, a woman of colour a couple chapters later. It's impossible not to see which people are meant to be respected despite their bad behaviour, and which people can still be treated badly despite their better behaviour. It's impossible not to see a pattern emerging.

This is not even a problem that plagues only the TRR series. From TCaTF to ACOR to Platinum to even MoTY, there is an ongoing pattern of discrepancies between the way white people and people of colour - particularly women - are treated. Many POC characters are placed in situations where it's easier for them to suffer/die/be shown disrespect, than it is to show them kindness or mercy. MOC are regularly either exoticized (Prince Hamid is the most glaring example of this) or placed in very traumatic situations for which the payoff isn't always going to be that great (I know this happens to Dallas, but I don't know about the payoff for Syphax).

WOC particularly suffer quite a bit in a lot of PB novels, in comparison to their white counterparts. Rowan Thorne of TCaTF, as a character, didn't deserve for her death to be made easier than her survival (in contrast to Diavolos, who was given far more opportunities AND will live simply by virtue of allying with Kenna), any more than Kiara deserved to be interrogated by the people who should have been concerned for her safety or Xanthe deserved to be shipped to slavery. All this, while a Vanessa (who is in a position of power and who plays an active role in rendering the MOTY MC financially helpless) gets a diamond scene where she "explains" her situation and a Madeleine doesn't even have to hear about her bullying from her victims.

The fandom, too, has contributed to this on a number of occasions. Speaking specifically of TRR, how many times have we seen Hana being dragged on Olivia posts? (also, if we were really measuring Olivia by the impossible standards that we held for Hana's characterization, Olivia would appear pretty damn one-note too: after all, 80% of her characterization consists of knife jokes). How many times was Hana being looked at with disdain for either her niceness or the poor writing for her, while the same fandom would regularly coo over a nice-presenting Penelope (whose characterization is one of the most inconsistent in the series)? How many times have we seen Kiara being called a creep/obsessed for merely looking at a man, while almost no one judges Olivia for kissing a man without his consent? How many times have people forgiven a traitorous Penelope and hated on a far more innocent Kiara in the same breath? How often did the fandom hate on Liam for accepting the MC's advances after she rejected him, yet not say a word when Drake did the same thing? How many times has Maxwell been loved for his humour and childlike nature while people of colour with a similar personality (Lily from Bloodbound, for example) were hated on instantly? Clearly, there have been more instances of people in the fandom sympathizing automatically with the white character, than with characters of colour. Time and again, brown and black characters - particularly women - have been required to match up to impossible standards (if they're nice they're boring. If they don't like the MC they're <insert every gendered sexist insult you can think of here>). The standards are far more relaxed for white characters, and they're often given more breathing room and to most of what they want without the constant judgement that black and brown women get. The standards set up for both are grossly different.

Racism is a beast that assumes many forms - and not all forms of racism will appear obvious to some, especially when such stereotypes are so normalized in media and popular fiction that we almost accept it at first. Almost. To get to the root of why there's such an imbalance in this series - among others - we need to first acknowledge the sexism and racism that are such a vital part of its narrative, and that its fandom regularly buys into and (sometimes unwittingly) promotes.

At this point, it's important to understand that having queer characters or characters of colour simply exist in the books isn't enough. Token rep can be found in PB's books by the dozens, but at the end of the day it means nothing if there is a constant reluctance, over and over and over, to treat those characters with the same care and sensitivity that they treat their white ones (or their "exoticized brown" ones).

• Like I mentioned earlier, I won't be playing TRH from this point forward, but I do hope to finish my TRR QTs soon. I have a LOT of thoughts! If you'd like to be tagged on those, do tell me!

#long post #tw: racism from pb #tw: fandom racism #trh quick thoughts #trh qts #king liam #hana lee #maxwell beaumont #anti drake walker #anti olivia nevrakis #anti trr madeleine #anti trr penelope #trr kiara

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staticscreenwriting · 5 years

Text

12 Days of Christmas - [Day 10]

A/N: Day number 10 for the Christmas coundown with @mattysheelies. Hope you enjoy. I started rhyming in the end there it’s uh — a choice that was made. Lemme know what you think of the whole story, I know I ain’t no poet ♥

Prompt: Co-parenting on Christmas.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader

“ Billy,

dear god, you’re quite the sight. You know that though, don’t you ?! Cocky bastard :)

It’s been 2 weeks since we took our baby girl home and it’s also our anniversary today. Who would’ve thought we’d end up here. Lounging on a sunday morning, in our bed, in our house, with our baby.

Right now you’re asleep, baby cuddled into your chest and I’m watching you (like a full on creep) but I just can’t bring myself to look away. I should be working on another article for my job but writing about how much this sight means to me, how much you two mean to me, seems more important.

I thought I knew what love was when we got together, I was wrong. When Noelle was born I was flooded with a completely different kind of love, instant, breathtaking. She is my everything and I can never thank you enough for giving me her. Then I see you, doting on her, being the best dad anyone could ask for — and I love you more every time I see you two together.

I was scared things weren’t gonna be this good (to be fair, I still get worried sometimes that this is too good to be true) but then I look at you and things are okay. Thank you for being by my side through it all. Even when we both were scared. I knew you weren’t gonna run but didn’t expect you to be such a natural. Noelle adores you just as much as I do, just as much as you adore her. I find it a bit rude that you’re her favorite when I am the one feeding her but then again, I can’t blame her (out of the two of us, you’d be my favorite too). Your chest is her favorite place in the world — it’s mine too.

Oh you’re waking up now and giving me one of those signature grins that remind me of the first time we locked eyes at Tina’s shitty Halloween Party. You just asked me if I’m writing about you and I said no (which was obviously a lie), I think you know it’s a lie.

They way you just looked at our baby makes me melt. Our baby.

Our perfect little world.

I don’t know if you’ll ever get to read this letter or if I keep it for myself. If you do though, I want you to know that I love you. Always.

xx (Y/N) “

“ (Y/N) ? “

I fold the letter back, stuff it into the pocket of my jeans and quickly close the lid of the box that had been pushed to the back of my closet for such a long time now. I am always painfully aware of the fact that it’s there, I’m just usually very good at ignoring it.

“ (Y/N), oh hey — there you are. Did you find it ? “ my sister asks as she steps into the room, smile on her face.

“ Here you go “ I reply, handing her the flyer that has initially let me to opening the box in the first place.

She looks at me with a certain gravity in her eyes, uncertainty — fear ?

“ Are you sure this is okay ? I mean this is where Billy proposed. “

My eyes fall onto the flyer for the hotel. It’s like I can still smell the ocean and taste the salty air on my tongue. Those were our good days and to remember them is both comforting and heartbreaking at the same time. It’s also not where he proposed but she doesn’t need to know that. That’s for me and Billy. Our little secret. If nothing else prevails, this for sure will.

“ It’s fine, (Y/S/N). Don’t worry. Billy and I broke up a year ago, we’re friends. It’s all good. “

Something about those words doesn’t feel right even though nothing about them is a lie. We are friends and everything is going pretty good. Though referring to him as a friend, as if he doesn’t still own the biggest piece of my heart, as if he didn’t give me the best present he ever could have — it feels wrong. Unfinished.

“ Alright cool. I can’t wait to take Lucy there, you said It was really magical so — “

I am happy for my sister, I really am. I want her and her girlfriend to have a good time on their first vacation together. It’s why I swallow all the pain and smile and nod. The pain is there though, even a year later — I hate this.

“ I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful time. Now let’s get back to the kitchen or mom’s gonna kill me for making her cook the Christmas Eve dinner when it’s MY house. “

It’s a thing my family does, have a big dinner on Christmas Eve. Some tradition passed down from generation to generation, once put in place by some German relatives that none of us at this table even remember. I enjoy it though, being around my family. I just wish the seat next to me wouldn’t be deserted. I wish he was here.

Now let me tell you that, despite what it may sound like, the breakup was not a decision he made by himself. It was a conscious decision that we made together. With his work and mine taking up all out time, we hardly saw each other anymore. The stress from both our jobs trickled into our family life ever so slightly until it ended in us yelling and shouting about things that weren’t the other’s fault.

So we decided to break up. Sometimes it’s easier to give up than to fight.

The divorce papers are resting in my bedside cabinet, not signed, still in the envelope. Billy hasn’t signed them yet either.

As I step into the kitchen, the scents of nutmeg and honey, of rosemary and thyme all wash over me. It takes me back to the days of my childhood. This feels cozy. This feels like home. Though it doesn’t dull the silent ache of my heart.

“ (Y/N) don’t you think you should check on the turkey? “ my mom speaks up as she leans against the kitchen counter, glass of wine clutched in her hand.

“ It still needs a bit, mom. I just checked like 10 minutes ago. “

“ I’m just looking out for you, sorry for trying to help. “

I love my mother but ever since I moved out and started my own family, something in her seems to have shifted, and not in a good way. Nothing I do seems to satisfy these insane expectations she has set for me, anymore. Neither my parenting nor my housekeeping seems good enough. It’s infuriating and exhausting but I know deep down it comes from a place of love and care.

“ Noelle still not here ? “ she asks, sipping the last of her drink “ thought you said Billy would have her back by 6. “

It’s at that moment that I start to get really irritated. I can deal with her judging me and what I do or don’t do. I hate when she does the same to Billy. She has never been his biggest fan but she knew he made me happy so she accepted him. Ever since our breakup though, things have taken a turn for the worse. She doesn’t waste any opportunity to talk ill about him and I am not having it. None of her words are founded in reality either. It’s ridiculous.

“ Mom it’s 5:14. He’s still in time. And even if he wasn’t, he’s her dad. He gets to spend time with her. “

“ Quite a dad, leaving you two alone. “

“ Mom, stop ! “

Neither my voice nor my face must leave any room for debate. He’s a wonderful dad and I will not let her spew her malice here.

“ I’m sorry. “ She isn’t but it’s Christmas Eve so I let it slide.

The door ringing puts an end to our staredown and I am ever so grateful for the distraction and the way out of this tension filled kitchen.

When I open the door, the first thing that meets me is the blistering cold of the Indiana winter. A sharp gust of wind hits my face and I’m sure my nose is already a vivid shade of red.

The next this I see is a little blond girl clinging to my legs, big blue eyes looking up at me. Her gap toothed smile makes my heart feel soft and warm, even with the cold from the outside surrounding me. My little girl never fails to bring sunshine into my life.

“ Hi mommy “ she says and hugs me even tighter. I comb my fingers through her hair, curled and pinned up slightly. He never accepts the compliments and sometimes I think it makes him self conscious, but Billy is great at doing her hair. I think he enjoys doing it too. When she was just a baby, only a few thin hair on her head, he already spend hours brushing them and putting little bows in.

“ Hey bub, did you have fun with daddy ? “

She nods vigorously “ So much fun! We watched Aristocats and Fox and the Hound. Daddy cried but — “

“ Hey Nolie how about you tell mom what Santa left at my house for you “

It’s the first time he speaks up and my eyes wander up towards him. I don’t think I will ever be able to look at him and not have my heart skip a beat. He’s a vision, even now. I can tell he’s exhausted, his leather jacket is pulled tightly around his frame and the snow falling onto his head has left his hair in moist curly streaks.

“ Oh my god, mommy. Santa dropped of a Barbie dream house at dad’s place. With an elevator and a working doorbell. “

The enthusiasm in her voice makes me smile. It makes Billy smile too and that smile makes me want to melt right there and then. Back when we first found out I was pregnant, at just 18, we never thought we would end up here. Neither of us had planned this far ahead but we knew from the get go that all we wanted was to create a happy childhood for our baby. It was always happy even in the beginning when we struggled. Now, being a bit more financially stable, gives us the chance to spoil her a little. And I can see how much Billy relishes in the fact that he can give his girl her dreams, even if those dreams are pink plastic houses. All he wants is to make her smile. All he wants is to make her happy.

“ No way ? “

“ Uh-huh ! “

“ So I take it, you had a good time at daddy’s ? “

“ The best time ! “ She exclaims then rushed back and throws her little arms around Billy’s waist.

“ I had the best time too, baby “ he replies and places a kiss on her head. “ You wanna go in say hi to everyone ? “ he asks and nudges her towards the living room.

“ yup yup yup. “

As soon as she’s out of sight, my heart starts beating faster and my hands get clammy. It’s ridiculous really. This man has seen me at my best, my worst, my most vulnerable and yet this moment makes me nervous to be around him.

“ Was she any trouble ? “

“ She’s never trouble, (Y/N). “

“ Ah — you wouldn’t tell me even if she were. “

“ She’s never trouble to me. “

I think he feels guilty, still. I think in Billy’s mind it’s his and only his fault that we had to break up. I think he faults himself for not being able to keep up this perfect little family we used to be for a while. I think he thinks he failed us.

He hasn’t. We don’t have to be perfect. We just have to work — and we do.

“ Actually, do you have a moment ? I got something for you. “ I say, motion for him to come inside and finally close the door to shield us from the cold.

“ You didn’t have to get me anything. “

“ Well I didn’t. “ I say and rush towards the cupboard, pulling out a square box wrapped in red paper with a big green bow. “ Santa did “.

He scoffs but by the little smirk pulling at his ips, I can tell my joke wasn’t really all that bad.

Billy rips off the paper like a child on Christmas morning. It makes me sad to think that when he was little he didn’t get to really do these things. He never fully told me how bad things were but I know they weren’t pleasant. I’m glad I can give him those things now, even if we aren’t together anymore.

“ Mötley Crüe ? Thanks (Y/N). “

“ It’s their new album aaaand, “ I say and take his hand to turn the album around “ It’s signed. “

He’s got the same twinkling in his eyes that Noelle had when she told me about the barbie house. It make my heart grow three sizes.

“ How did you — ? “

“ I spoke to someone at work who’s responsible for the music department. She got to interview them the other day and so I asked her if she might be able to have them sign this. It’s not big deal really. “

“ No, it is. And now I feel really shit I don’t have anything for you. “

“ You already gave me all I will ever need. “ I say and glance towards the living room where Noelle is sitting on my father’s lap, telling him all about her barbie dreamhouse.

“ You did that for me too, (Y/N). “

For a moment we just stand there, lost in the thoughts of what we have and what should be, but isn’t. Then it occurs to me that, once this conversation is over and we say goodbye, I get to spend a nice evening with my family while Billy goes back home to — no one.

I can’t do that to him. I can’t let his Christmas turn into a sad day again.

“ You got any plans for tonight then ? And tomorrow ? “

He bites his lower lip and I know he doesn’t want to talk about it. By now I have him figured out quite well. Know when he feels uncomfortable. Know what his little quirks and gestures mean.

“ Nah, Max and Lukas aren’t coming around until New Years. No chance I’m gonna go see my dad so — probably just me and some movies. “

“ What about, “ gosh what was her name ? “ Sandra ? “

“ Sarah ? “ he asks an eyebrow mockingly raised “ uh — that wasn’t really a long term thing. It’s why I didn’t want Nolie to meet her. We ended things like 4 months ago. “

It shouldn’t, but it gives me a weird satisfaction.

“ Billy I can’t let you be alone on Christmas. Stay here. We have a spare room and I know Nolie wants you around. “

“ (Y/N) I can’t do that. “

“ Why not ? “

“ Don’t wanna impose. “

“ You don’t. Is this because of my mom? Cause if it is, fuck that. She’ll just have to deal.”

He contemplates for a moment, I can almost see the gears in his head turning. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe this isn’t about mom. Oh god maybe he doesn’t wanna spend time with me.

“ You can tell me that you have a date, you know ? “ he says and I am absolutely confused.

“ Huh ? “

“ Noelle said some dude called Jack is staying with you guys on Christmas. You can tell me that. I mean I would’ve liked to meet him before you bring him around my kid but — it’s your life. I don’t think he’d want your ex-husband around. “

“ Husband “

I don’t know why It’s so important to me to make that clear but the facts still stand. Billy is my husband.

“ Yeah whatever. Don’t think your boyfriend would like that. “

It’s then, that I have to laugh. A full on belly laugh that goes all through my body and fills me with giggles. I don’t know if I’m laughing so hard because the situation is so ridiculous or because It reminds me that he still cares, that he’s maybe even a bit jealous. Probably both.

“ It’s not that funny. “

“ Oh but it is. Come on let me show you something. “

I take his hand in mine and I feel like I did back in High School. It’s warm and soft and it feels like my hand and his were meant to hold onto each other. I feel him intertwine his finger with mine and my heart stops for a second. This isn’t how you should feel about an ex partner, is it ?

Quickly I push open the door to the guest room then close it behind us. The high pitched barks of a little black puppy reach my ears and, before I can warn him, little Jack is already trying to climb up Billy’s leg.

“ Billy, meet Jack. “

The realisation dawns on his face. Billy, as much as he hates and likes to deny it, is an extremely expressive person. It’s very endearing.

“ Jack’s a dog “

“ Yup. “

“ Jesus. I just made a fucking fool of myself. “

“ Ah it wasn’t so bad. “

“ I was jealous of a dog. “

My heart drops to my stomach. So he was jealous. Does it really matter ? Does that change things ? I mean we’re still broken up, so it shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter.

But it does.

The letter in my pocket feels like it weight a thousand pounds as I suddenly get so very aware of all the feelings still there. Did we make the right decision ? Should we have fought harder ? Should we —

“ Why are you crying ? “

I don’t even notice it until he mentions it, until his hand softly takes my face and wipes away the stray tears that made it down my cheeks.

There’s no one specific thing that brings those tears, more the realisation of what isn’t anymore. One would think that after about a year of not being together, of living in separate places, leading lives away from one another, my heart would get used to it. The distance and the longing and the missing. It doesn’t though. There’s no getting used to a loss that you deliberately brought onto yourself by making certain decisions.

“ I found a letter earlier today. I wrote it to you when Nolie was just 2 weeks old. I remembered how happy I was then and how — how much I loved what we had then. I guess it just hit me that I wont ever have that again. “

“ What are you saying ? “

“ I don’t know, to be honest. I just know that I miss what we had and that I miss us as a family. That I miss you. “

“ You wrote me a letter? “

“ I wrote you so many letters. Or maybe I wrote them for myself, I don’t know. “

“ I lied “ he says then kisses the top of my head.

“ Huh ? “

“ When I said I didn’t get you anything. I lied. “

Billy pulls away a little then fumbles a little box from his jeans.

“ When I asked you to marry me on our graduation, I didn’t have a spectacular ring or anything. I told you it was because I couldn’t afford it, which was true, but the actual reason was that I had a specific ring in mind that I wanted to give you. It was my grandmother’s. She and my grandpa were the only couple I had growing up that really made me want to believe in love. My mom got the ring after my grandma died and it took me awhile to find out her address. I got it finally and uh — I bought the ring from her. She would’ve given it to me for free but I don’t want her charity. So this — this is the ring I wanted to give you then and it’s the one I want you to have now. “

“ Billy, what if you wanna get married again to someone else one day ? You should keep it. “

“ No. You have my heart and I will never want to get married to anyone else. It’s yours and maybe one day it will be Noelles. “

He slips the ring onto my finger and it sparkles in the light. It’s not a diamond and it’s not big but it’s perfect. The pale pink stone shines like star in a dark winter night.

We’re both crying now and if anyone were to come in, things would be really hard to explain. But this is our moment now so who cares.

Then he looks at me and I look at him and the air gets sucked out of my lungs and his hand cradles my cheeks and his breath falls onto my skin and we shouldn’t be doing this but we do. We do. We do.

And it feels so right.

The touch of his lips on mine feels like home, tastes like home. It’s right. It’s right. This is right.

“ I love you, (Y/N). I still love you. “

“ I love you too. Do you — think we should try again ? “

He nods, then kisses me again. And again. And again.

“ Billy you’re a horrible cook but you are so confident in your failures that in the end it doesn’t really matter. You make up silly stories for Noelle even though she’s way too young to understand them. I think you make them up for yourself too. And for me.

You’re really good at remembering where we’ve seen ‘that actor’ before, when we watch movies. And your ability to tell other people about a movie you’ve seen without spoiling the plot (the way I always manage to).

I think you always look effortlessly cool even when you just got up. Even when your hair’s a mess. Even when Noelle just threw up her lunch onto your shoulder.

You’re a wonderful dad. The best. The love you have for our daughter makes my love for your grow each second. You’re never too proud to do anything, never scared to be emasculated or some shit like that. I love how much you love her. How much you love us. How much you love being a dad.

Billy you give me really great Orgas— “

“ Okay alright, I think that’s enough for your ego. “

We’re sitting in my closet, his back against the wall, my back against his chest. I’m reading him my letters, the ones I wasn’t sure if I had written them for him or me. Turns out I wrote them for us.

“ I think you should finish that one. “

“ I think maybe not. “

I take his hand in mine, lock my fingers with his and lean my head against his shoulder.

“ Are we making a mistake here ? “

He shakes his head “ Nah. I think being with you could never ever be a mistake. I guess we just have to try harder. “

“ I’m in if you are. “

“ Oh baby I’m all in. “

We kiss again and my heart feels whole.

“ Are you gonna stay for Christmas ? Noelle doesn’t know Jack is here already. I wanna surprise her tomorrow morning. “

“ Yeah. I’d love that. Being with you guys is all I wanted for Christmas. “

Christmas. SHIT ! Christmas.

“ Fuck. The turkey ! “

It’s the morning of Christmas and all through the house, not a creature is stirring, not even a mouse.

I lean against the kitchen counter, cup of coffee in my hand, as I let my eyes wander around the living room. The tree sparkles like an ocean of color with it’s fairy lights neatly in place. There’s presents a-plenty and a little dog asleep on a pillow in front of the couch.

This is all that I dreamed of for a whole long year and as I hear steps coming down the stairs I know it’s finally here.

Yeah my family isn’t perfect and my turkey was a mess. But there’s a pizzeria on my speed dial and my family ? It’s the best.

Billy holds our little girl in his arms, tired smiles on both their faces and I know this is the dream, this is the very best of places.

When I look at my family, my heart starts to grow. It’s filled with tinsel and songs and it’s then that I know. Christmas ain’t about presents and it ain’t about food, It’s about all your loved ones and the love you exude. Through the smiles and the laughter and the kisses we share, all that I ever needed is in front me there.

I give my little girl a hug, and a kiss for my man and I think, this is where I belong, right here where I am.

So I hope that your Christmas is just as merry and bright. Happy Christmas to all and to all a good —

“ Mom, there’s a puppy !!!! “

TAGLIST:

@sebastiansloserclub I @killer-queen-xo I @william-hargroves I @billysgodcomplex I @daisyxbuckley I @allabouthargrove I @mcrmarvelloki I @charmed-asylum I @naiomiwinchester I @hargrovesprincess I @mystrangerfics I @teafrompari I @staybruuutal I @colourado I @higher-further-faster-bb I @ayybtch I @carlaangel86 I @baebee35

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