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#swynbelle
prince--thomas · 1 year
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Don’t Rock the Boat, Baby ~~ [Tonnie]
@ugly-anastasia
Tom fiddled with the cuffs of his new suit nervously as he stood next to a stoic Belle Acheron outside of one of InterPride’s conference rooms. He had done his hair this morning with Phil’s help. Meticulously smoothing back the curls, though all he wanted to do was run his hand through them.
“Take a deep breath,” Belle said to him under her breath, though somehow still sharp. “You need to be confident.”
He took in a deep breath through his nose and nodded his head once.
Belle’s ponytail slid over her shoulder as she turned her head, the sound of clicking heels catching her and Tom’s attention. Tom looked over the top of her head to see Annie and her lawyer heading towards them. He glanced at Belle again, watching as her shoulders squared. He took his cues from her and straightened his shoulders as well.
“Mrs. Tremaine,” Belle said, pleasantly, holding out her hand to her and then to the lawyer. “I’m Solicitor Acheron. I believe you know my client, Thomas Harrington?”
Tom nodded at Annie and shook the lawyer’s hand as Belle opened the door to the conference room.
“Feel free to sit wherever you like. There is water and coffee,” she said as she ushered everyone into the room.
[outfit] [bonus: belle’s outfit]
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fiend-ofthefae · 1 year
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Book Smarts || Rose
The deal was struck months ago now. And so far so good, the Prince didn’t have to pay for books he needed for English Literature. What a boring class.
He hadn’t been too concerned with any other happenings to try and twist the wording into his favor yet. I will teach you the ways of the mortal realm. She didn’t realize that her statement was just broad enough to be taught many truths. She must tell the truth or he could hurt whomever she cared for. The deal, at least he thought, was skewed way into his favor. The Prince of the Riverlands just hadn’t cared enough to push their current equilibrium.
“Yeah, they’re making us read this ‘Wuthering Heights’ book. It sounds like some sappy romance thing, dunno why it is required when there’s nothing to learn from it,” he complained to his favorite bookkeeper running a hand across the spines facing out towards him.
“Anyway, a deal’s a deal... what do you wanna know in return for ye olde romance novel?”
@labellerose-acheron
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lou-bonfightme · 2 years
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Paris, toujours [Part Two] || [Loud Bell]
@trip-downtheriverstyx​, @labellerose-acheron​
Toulouse was in a positively cheerful mood when Belle and Hades got home with the twins. It was a busy evening, wrangling all the children and getting dinner started. He did it all happily, though. Minding the children, whilst Hades and Belle cooked. And when all was said and done and they were sitting around the table, he couldn’t contain himself anymore.
“I have news,” he told them with a smile. “My father has finally cleared my papers. I am no longer barred from France.”
Belle looked up and smiled. “Oh, Toulouse. That’s wonderful!” she told him, her face alight with genuine excitement.
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Toulouse grinned back at her, a smile he rarely allowed. All crooked and unabashed.
“Yes, it is. We should make plans at once.”
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[outfit] [belle’s fit]
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labellerose-acheron · 2 years
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Wards, Wards, Wards *** [Bun]
@moon-yeongjun​
When Belle had agreed to work on the petition for magical wards on a few buildings in Swynlake, she had done it because she believed in the initiative. Was annoyed she hadn’t thought of it herself. So, she had eagerly accepted having some sort of mark on it.
And then, Simba had told her she would be working with Jun Moon.
Now, Belle didn’t know Jun very well. He had been two years above her in school and, obviously, he ran the Moon Market. She knew the rumors about him, which was enough to make her cautious, but at the very least, he had experience writing petitions.
She arrived at the Market a few minutes passed their scheduled time, having agreed to meet him there since he could not leave the shoppe.
“My apologies,” she told him when she found him in the back office. “I was held up at work. How would you like to do this? I have already gathered some of the provisions I believe should be included in the contracts. As well as statistics on the benefits of wards.”
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[outfit, without of the accessories lol and black flats ofc]
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gem-morey · 4 months
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Right to Remain Silent 🔥 [Gemus]
In which Gem is taken in for questioning...[takes place: December 9, 2023]
companion to: Just Questions
@trackedbymaximus, @labellerose-acheron
[cw -- panic/talk and accusations of murder]
🔥🔥🔥
[link here]
🔥🔥🔥
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mamabear-elinor · 2 years
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Fate Be Changed -> [Howlinor]
@oh-heartlessman, @heart-of-dunbroch, @labellerose-acheron
Elinor was not happy with this arrangement. She didn’t trust this sorcerer and she knew that Belle didn’t trust her. She was coming to resent the maroon couches in Belle’s living room. All they every spoke about was magic on them. Nothing else. 
The DunBrochs had arrived slightly ahead of Howl, so they were settling in. Belle had graciously made tea (at least she had manners in one aspect, thought Elinor to herself.) She perched in front of the fireplace, glowing with mysterious blue flame, her back to it and a warm mug of tea in her hands. The babies were no where in sight, which Elinor was not thrilled about, as the babies were a very good distraction form the curse that lurked in her bones. 
There was nothing for that, though, as there was a knock at the door, Belle scurrying over to grab it, wrapping her golden cardigan around herself. The two exchanged suspicious, murmured words before Belle popped up to kiss the wizard’s cheeks. 
Elinor made a little face, even though she was trying to be gracious. A demon, a werewolf, and now a flashy sorcerer? No wonder the Order had been after this girl. Elinor wasn’t saying they were right but--it made sense. (Also, they could’ve   been right, only time would tell.) 
As Howl and Belle came back, Belle went to her spot in front of the eerie fire. “Elinor,” --Elinor was still not used to having her proper named called by such a child, especially because she was sure she could hear sarcastic bitterness. “--this is Howl Pendragon. Howl, this is Elinor DunBroch.” 
“How do you do?” she answered, stiff but with the guise of manners that had been taught to her over decades. “You can cure it then?”
[outfit]
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fiend-ofthefae · 2 years
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Study Sessions || Rose
Briar didn’t really like the book shoppe. He didn’t like reading. Attending school was easier than joining the workforce though. The prince had never worked a day in his life and he never intended to. Still, he needed to buy unreasonably priced heavy books required by professors who’d only make you read a few pages because they wrote them.
The bell chimed signalling his entrance and he looked around for the most appealing clerk. A more melodic Belle.
Since the drain had ended, his glamour was back in full force and he had to stick to twisting the truth again. And though he had to walk around hiding what he was, he got the weird feeling Belle liked him more without the illusion magic. She had a habit of collecting monsters...
The prince strode up to the front desk and tapped the bell once, twice, then unendingly rang it until someone appeared.
@labellerose-acheron
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lou-bonfightme · 2 years
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incroyable || [Loud Bell]
@trip-downtheriverstyx, @labellerose-acheron
Evenings in the Acheron household were generally quiet, peaceful. Once the children had been put to sleep, of course. Now that they were all a bit older, they generally stayed asleep once down. This was usually the time that Toulouse retreated, leaving Belle and Hades to their evening rituals. Reading on the couch, playing a game of chess--which was notably a two person game.
However, recently, he had been feeling...restless. Lonely. Being alone up on the third floor in his room made him feel like there was an itch under his skin that he couldn’t shake. Being downstairs with Belle and Hades did not make it that much better, to be perfectly honest, but it did help some. He reclined in his favourite armchair, legs over one arm, shoulders against the other, a sketchbook in his lap. Victoire lay at the foot of the chair, her head on her paws.
The house was quiet.
Toulouse’s phone pinged and he glanced at it--the tone the one for his family. Berlioz’s name came up on the screen, having texted their group chat. He picked it up, snorted, sent a quick text back. The conversation did not last long because Toulouse had not known how to respond.
“Incroyable,” he sneered, unable to help himself.
[outfit, with less fitted trousers] [belle’s outfit]
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lou-bonfightme · 2 years
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Holding On for Dear Life || [Loud Bell]
@trip-downtheriverstyx, @labellerose-acheron
Toulouse was awoken by a knock at the door. He turned his head on his pillow, cracking an eye open as the door opened.
“Toulouse?” Belle murmured, standing silhouetted by early morning light. She was dressed for work already and had one of the twins on her hip.
“Mm?” he grunted, running a hand through his hair and propping himself up on his elbows.
“I am sorry to wake you. Will you come downstairs, please? I need to talk to you about something.”
“Is everything alright?” Lou asked, pushing himself up now and swinging his bare feet around to hit the floor.
“Yes--er, well, mostly. Just come downstairs, please.”
“I’lll be down in a minute.” And he was, after taking a moment to get dressed. He wondered what this could be about. The Order? The children? The magic drain (which didn’t help with his grogginess.) He made it to the living room, his hair ruffled, rubbing at one of his eyes.
“Tonton!” Opal yelped enthusiastically, not used to seeing him awake this early. She was sitting in front of an equally groggy looking Hades, who was brushing her bedraggled hair out.
Usually, Belle left earliest. Then, Hades got up and got the twins and Opal ready. He left, taking the car and the twins to InterPride’s nursery. Then, Opal came to wake Lou up and either napped with him for another hour or so or played quietly while he got himself up.
This threw off their schedule and it made Lou immediately grouchy.
“What’s going on?”
[outfit]
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prince--thomas · 1 year
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SwynWriMo Day Eight – 160 Characters or Less
Worth a Shot ~~ [Bellas]
Write a story using either Tweets or entirely in texts emails between characters.
To: [email protected] From: [email protected] Subject: Services Inquiry
Dear Mrs. Acheron,
Hullo. My name is Thomas Harrington. We have been acquainted before, previously. I am writing because I am interested in hiring you for a case that I am involved in. I didn’t do anything wrong, just for the record. It is a custody case.
I know that our history may give you an unfavorable view of me but this isn’t about me. You are a good lawyer. A local lawyer and you are familiar with the intricacies of my case. Please let me know if you are interested. I am willing to pay, of course.
Thank you for your time.
Best, Thomas Richard Edward Harrington III
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lou-bonfightme · 9 months
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Happily Ever After || [Loud Bell]
In which Toulouse, Belle, and Hades get married...[takes place: June 21, 2023]
@trip-downtheriverstyx, @labellerose-acheron, @ber-bonfamille-lyons
[tw -- brief non-descript mentions of suicidal thoughts in the first bit (skip to Hades first reply if you don't want to come across that part)]
|| || ||
[link here]
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lou-bonfightme · 2 years
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Table for Two || [Loud Bell]
@trip-downtheriverstyx, @labellerose-acheron
February 13, 2022
"Oh, good, you’re home! Finally!” Lou exclaimed, coming down the stairs at the sound of the opening door. He’d heard Hades coming up the long walk to the cottage, but he waited until he’d creaked onto the porch to leave what he’d been doing upstairs.
“Oh, good, you’re home,” Belle intoned much more dully from where she was sitting curled on the couch, one of the twins asleep on her chest, a book in one hand, her other around the baby’s ribcage. 
“Daddy home!” Opal chimed in, racing to beat Lou to greet Hades at the door. She crashed into one of his legs.
It wasn’t that late, the sun had just set over the trees, the sky still purple with dusk, but it was getting close to the time that Lou had set for their reservations. The shoppe wasn’t open today, so Lou hadn’t anticipated Hades being out so late, but he was kicking himself for that. Hades liked to catch up on administrative things when he had a moment of down time. 
He glanced over Hades, once, quickly--and sure enough, he didn’t even have a bouquet of flowers. Lou had thought that was what had made him late. Grabbing something for his wife. 
Shameful, in Lou’s opinion. That was why he’d taken it upon himself to arrange an anniversary celebration for them. 
“Now, we must hurry because I’ve made reservations--” Lou started, clasping his hands together once they were all more or less gathered in the living room. 
“Reservations? For tonight? Valentine’s Day is tomorrow. And we don’t exactly celebrate.” The amusement was clear on her face as she flicked a glance towards Hades.  
[outfit]
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lou-bonfightme · 2 years
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A Certain Vernacular || [Loud Bell]
@trip-downtheriverstyx, @labellerose-acheron
It had been a long day. It had been a long day of not speaking to a single adult, except to say goodbye to Hades and Belle in the morning as they left for their respective jobs. Toulouse didn’t have a job, though. Most days, Toulouse stayed at home with three toddlers and kept them entertained. 
Which wasn’t so bad, usually. They were all lovely children and he loved them very much. Plus, he often brought them to the manor, so that Nounou could help with the minding. Not to mention the revolving door of friends the Acherons had. 
Some days, though, it was just hard and it put him in a dour mood. Not so much an angry one as a depressed, restless mood. One where he wondered if this was just to be his life. If his talents would wither away. Or his intelligence. And he would become nothing more than a--childminder. Not that he didn’t have great respect for childminders, his Nounou was the only person in his childhood Toulouse had ever remembered feeling safe around. 
It was just that it made him feel listless sometimes. Bored. Forgotten about. And the wolf inside of him would want to tear up all the pillows, like a naughty house dog that had been left whilst its owners were away on vacation.
Toulouse was a grown man, so he was not going to tear up the pillows. He also wasn’t going to indulge the wolf (he blamed the wolf for all his worse impulses), by turning into a jumping, happy pet when the Acherons returned as if to award them for coming back. So, he hadn’t. He had greeted them as cordially as he always did and then handed over the children so that he could busy himself with a book until dinner.
That, dear readers, would be how you would find the Acheron Cottage this evening. Warm, with the smell of stew on the stove. The lord and lady of the house moving about the kitchen, their oldest child busied with pretend chores to help out, while one of the twins slept in the pack-n-play and the other got underfoot until he was shooed out of the kitchen, wandering over to Toulouse lounging in the arm chair, who hadn’t quite noticed him.
“Dada!” demanded Aidan. 
Toulouse heard this, of course, but he didn’t pay any attention to it, assuming Aidan was trying to get his father’s attention. Then there were sticky, insistent hands, pulling on his sweater. 
“Dadadadada,” babbled Aidan, trying to pull himself up into Toulouse’s chair. 
With a jolt, Lou realized what was happening and snapped his book shut, casting a glance towards the kitchen, where Hades and Belle seemed none the wiser. “Tonton,” Lou corrected gently, his voice tight as he scooped Aidan up under the armpits and settled him on his lap. “Tonton.” 
“Dada,” Aidan smiled a gummy smile. 
“No--”
“Dinner’s ready!” called Belle. 
Toulouse glanced at her, then back at Aidan, who was still smiling. “Er, right.” Getting up, Lou settled the toddler on his hip, hoping that if it happened again, in closer proximity to Hades--it could be played off. Lou settled Aidan in his highchair but the happy smile quickly dropped and Aidan let out a screech that had his sister glaring at him. 
“Noooooooo! Dada,” cried Aidan, still clinging to Lou. 
Lou’s face, to his credit, turned bright red. “I--uh, think he is missing you, Hades,” Lou tried half-heartedly as he attempted to untangle Aidan’s fingers from his jumper.
[outfit for lou, outfit for belle]
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prince--thomas · 2 years
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Sword Upon Our Hearts [Part Five: By Blood We Swear] ~~ [The Golden Brio feat. Helle and Howl]
In which the Golden Brio are punished for the mission they’ve been sent to Swynlake for…[takes place: early morning August 4th, 2021]
@captain--john, @knightley--phillip, @trip-downtheriverstyx, @labellerose-acheron, @oh-heartlessman​
[tw – talk of murder, lil bit of gore, blood oaths]
BELLE: They had won. 
At least, they had won the battle. Belle had dealt with the Order enough at this point that she knew it would not be so simple. There would be more. The only way this felt at all like a victory was the look in those boys’ eyes. The regret and the horror of what they had done. Belle had seen that look before: in Merida. And even in Hades, himself, after Persephone had died. It was a hard thing to fake, the kind of remorse that brought you to your knees. Belle did not trust these men, but she believed them. 
Mercy was a kindness she could afford to show them. That was how she knew that they could use the Princes. If they had not broken. If they had not crumbled beneath the weight of their crimes, perhaps Belle would have not touched Hades’ arm. She would have let them go up in flames. A cruel man was no use to them. A repentant man could be. 
Belle watched silently as Hades and Merida bound them and brought them out of the garden, seating them on the floor in the living room. Toulouse stayed at her side, his hulking form warm against her trembling thigh. She stroked her hand over his head a few times, but otherwise didn’t move. She felt like she might faint if she did. Despite winning, Belle was still terrified. She didn’t even notice that her neck had been cut on Phil’s sword (probably from her own thrashing, because of course, she’d put up at least a bit of a fight), until Hades handed her a wet towel to put against it. 
Having done her duty--calling Howl and telling him it was time--there was nothing left to do but wait. Toulouse stalked around the living room, unable to sit still. Merida had collapsed into a chair, holding her side. Lou had whined at her when she did this, probably worried about the upholstery. (Perhaps worried about Merida.) Hades stood at her side, his hand on her shoulder. She had leaned against him, but only for a moment. This wasn’t a time to seek comfort.
They still all had jobs to do. 
When the knock sounded at the door, Belle moved out of the shelter of Hades’ shadow to open it.
“Hullo,” Belle murmured as she looked up at Howl. She gave him the best smile she could manage before stepping aside to let him in. Taking a breath, she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. This needed to be a performance as much as a spell. Belle did not want to let the trio see what they had taken from her.
“Thank you for coming. I trust you have everything prepared?”
HOWL: There was nothing like a little blood magic in the nighttime to really remind one what it felt like to be alive! 
“Of course, darling,” said Howl, with a tip of his head.
Now, of course, Howl felt very terrible about everything that had happened. He slipped Belle a little calming tincture, with a note wrapped around it with instructions on how much to take before bedtime for a dreamless, restful sleep. But he was here to get to work, and he knew Belle would not like it if he fussed over her. So he unclipped his cloak and it drifted towards a nearby chair, and stepped inside the house.
“Now… where are these prisoners?”
In Howl’s time in Swynlake, he’d not really crossed paths with the Order of the Prince. Oh, sure, he knew about them — of course he did, because they seemed determined to destroy Belle and her family, but he’d never actually directly interacted with them (well, as far as he was aware).
He followed Belle up to where the three men were tied up. They were nothing remarkable — each handsome in their own very generic way, which he supposed was probably optimal for covert missions; good-looking enough to be charming, but not enough to stick out. He did recognize two of them, now, from the play, the one with the big blue eyes and the one who was somehow smirking through all of this.
“So how does this thing go?” asked the smirking one, who sounded awfully cheerful for someone tied up. “Slash our palms, say a few words, bound forever, etcetera, etcetera — say, what are our terms and conditions for this?”
“I’m sure that’s up to Belle and Hades,” said Howl, as his vials drifted out of his bag, along with a piece of chalk that started to scribble a circle around the three men, full of intricate runes. “I’m just here to run the show.”
HADES: If it were up to Hades, they would be dead.
If it were up to Hades, he would take every weapon they had. He’d take their hands-- never able to hold a weapon again. He’d take their sight-- so they could never so much as look at his family. He’d take their hearing, their legs. He’d take everything and then some. 
If it were up to Hades, at the very least, he’d banish them from Swynlake. Send them far far away, and every time they even thought of this place, they’d be struck with a headache. If they put his name in their mouth, their tongues would burn.
But it was not up to Hades. 
It was up to Belle, and in the end, the punishment needed to serve the strategy, something they were cobbling together quickly. All three men seemed remorseful (Hades didn’t trust it), which meant that they could potentially be allies and spies in one way or another. The punishment had to be a collar that would control them like dogs, without choking them entirely. A very specific kind of punishment that would, at the very least, entail his family remained safe. 
It wasn’t the satisfying revenge Hades wanted; he’d have to wait to get into the heart of the Order for that. 
“I don’t want them to be able to attack my family. Or think about attacking my family, actually,” said Hades to Howl. It was up to the sorcerer to devise exactly how this could translate. “And-- they should never kill again. Not a mundus, not a magick. Take that away too.” 
PHILLIP: All of those requests seemed rather reasonable to Phillip. He was genuinely surprised that they weren’t being murdered, of course, but that did just reaffirm his decision. 
Hades and Belle and Toulouse and Merida were not monsters. They were people. Whatever the Order had twisted about Magicks and Mundus all these years was a lie. Perhaps it was started with good intention — after all, Phillip’s family was known for killing dragons and certainly a thousand years ago, the devastation that dragons wreaked on small villages was enough for some to raise swords against them. But somewhere along the line, protecting people turned into hunting others.
Or maybe it had always been about hunting. Phillip didn’t know. Phillip didn’t want to know.
“Oh absolutely — no harming all of you and no killing. On the penalty of death,” said Howl. Vials were flying everywhere. Phillip wasn’t sure what it all was, but he followed one particularly shiny one as it uncorked and spilled something silver around them. The sorcerer must’ve  noticed, because the next time Phillip caught his eye, he gave a little wink.
“While that all carries itself out,” Howl waved a hand at all the bottles and what not, “I’ll explain how this works. First of all, this is blood magic, just getting that out of the way, darling.” He looked at Belle when he said this. “I doubt you’ll have any qualms, but it is the disclaimer I make whenever I involve other people in that craft, because people can be so righteous about it. But the way I see it — if everyone’s down, why not have a little fun?”
He turned his brilliant blue gaze to Phil now, the corner of his mouth twitching up.
Phillip gulped.
“Anyway,” continued Howl, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll get a little blood from all of them, mix it in a vial, and then after you write the terms of the contract — “ As he said that, a piece of parchment floated towards Belle and Hades. “ — they’ll sign it in their blood, then we burn it in the spell circle, and — well you’ll see, it’s very fun, that part.”
“Sounds sexy,” said Phillip, instinctively. 
“I knew I liked you,” said Howl. “But yes, this only works if all parties are willing, so …” He pulled out a knife from his cloak and held it out. A new vial floated next to him. “Who’s first?”
“I’ll go,” said Phillip. He agreed with everything Hades had said. “I never wanted to even hurt them in the first place. And I’m fine if I never have to kill again — just — I can protect without killing.” He hadn’t been planning on saying that, but as he did, he jut his chin out a little more. 
“Yes, yes,” said Howl lazily. He walked to Phillip, standing over him and using the blade of the knife to turn Phillip’s gaze towards him. The metal pressed into Phillip’s skin, and he let it, without flinching, and felt a trickle of blood down his neck. Howl pulled away the dagger, holding it over the vial, and watched as the blood dripped into it.
“The rest of you can use your palms,” he said, then flicked his gaze to Phillip. “An eye for an eye, darling.” And those bright blue eyes darted to Belle, to the thin line across her own throat, as his lips tightened. “Who’s next?”
THOMAS: This whole scene played out like one of his nightmares.
The only difference was that Tom wasn’t scared. He was full of so much remorse, he felt heavy with it. As if the ropes that bound him were tied to an anchor and he’d been sent to the bottom of the ocean. That was how he heard the conversation above him: as if he was underwater. He heard words, but their meanings escaped him. All he knew was that whatever fate awaited him, he had condemned Phil and John to the same one. 
That was the only part of him that regretted it. The one that would never forgive himself if something happened to John or Phil. His brothers--in arms or anything else. Otherwise, he couldn’t find it in himself. He realized, as soon as he had faced Merida, there was never a moment where he would have been able to go through with what he had been told to do. As always, he had simply followed orders. He had believed in the wrong thing. The wrong people. 
Tom didn’t know what he believed in now. Except perhaps Mercy, who came to them in the form of a beautiful, gentle woman. He was aware enough to see the murderous glare in Hades’ eyes, in the reflection of the wolf’s eyes. Even the sorcerer, when he stepped close enough, had eyes as hard as diamonds, no matter how he smiled and moved like a ripple in the wind. Belle was the only one who looked at them with eyes like water. She was gentle. And Tom realized it had nothing to do with the fact she was a Mundus, or even a mother. She was just--a good person. 
She was the only one Tom could look at without feeling like he wanted to throw up. Not that it mattered, because she was not looking at him. Instead, she stood stiffly, the parchment that the sorcerer had handed her crumpling in her hand. She was milk-pale in the moonlight, from her eyelids to her lips and her white-knuckle grip. He clung to her in his mind, like a child clinging to a mother’s skirts.
Until the sorcerer moved towards them. Tom flinched and then his boots scraped at the floor, his arms jerking, fighting against their binds as the sorcerer lifted the knife to Phil’s throat. “Don’t--” 
The plea was choked off as the blade was drawn away again. Once more, Tom felt nauseated. As if he had suddenly become seasick on the solid land. (Nothing was solid for Tom.) He sucked in a sharp breath when the knife was held out towards him.
“I--I will.” Tom didn’t know if his voice had ever sounded so soft. He was looking at Belle still, desperately as if she could save him, though he did not know from what. He turned his palm over and held it out. The sorcerer sliced the sharp blade across it. This time, Tom stayed perfectly still. After all, he already felt like he was bleeding from every part of him. When the sorcerer got what he needed, Tom curled his hand in a fist. 
“I-I’m sorry,” he said, still soft. He didn’t know why. 
Finally, for just a moment, Belle’s eyes flickered towards him before they jumped away. She turned and moved toward the kitchen, falling clumsily onto the stool at the island, the first sign he had seen of any toll this night had taken on her. It was then Tom’s gaze fell to the hardwood beneath him, stomach churning with shame, before he turned to watch John, wondering if he should be apologizing to him instead. 
JOHN: John’s eyes were cold, an icy blue. He shut down and put on a brave face, but his eyes were also tired. He was exhausted, but despite being corralled into this room and bound he kept his posture, he kept himself strong. He was so close to breaking but he pulled the pieces together as hard as he could to get through the last of this. 
As the sorcerer spoke, John’s brain wracked through the contract for loopholes, but he was too tired. He was done with this. As the blonde man stepped forward and held a knife to Phillip’s throat, John’s whole body tensed, pulling hard on the restraints that kept him on the ground, his fist clenching at how vulnerable his mate--his brother--was. He ground his teeth down, letting out a slight exhale of irritation and almost a warning though he knew he was no match for this sorcerer in his current state.
He let Tom go ahead of him, his eyes darting around the room to make sure that this wasn’t some kind of falsehood. That they were being bled for some ulterior purpose or something. But the rest of them just looked as tired and hurt as John felt. 
The blonde was willing to end this, though he wasn’t particularly happy about it. For his mates, he did this. He didn’t want to watch them suffer. He sat tall, chest up as he strained as firmly as he could to make himself as big as possible, back absolutely aching as as he stared into the eyes of the all too charming and cool sorcerer who seemingly had a fleeting fancy in all of this. His eyes analyzed his face a moment before he turned out his palm, his arms already burning from the damage Hades had done to him during the first encounter. What was one more cut?
The knife pressed into his palm and sliced through, John’s eyes never left the sorcerer’s face. He didn’t flinch, didn’t grimace, just stared. And once that was over, he wished he was free, shielding Thomas and Phillip from whatever might come their way with this strange blood magic being tampered with, “What next, sorcerer?” 
HADES: As the blood was drawn, Hades and Belle set to work on the contract. It wouldn’t be long. As much as Hades wanted to take so much more from these men, it was unrealistic and would not fit into the broader plans of revenge against the Order-- of taking the Order down.
And so for now, he took his anger and he put it aside. There could be no emotions involved here. This was all strategy, all necessity, though as he murmured low to Belle, there were several things he knew that were non-negotiable and had to remain that way. 
The first one was, as he’d previously said, the Order should not be able to kill anyone, any life, at all. That needed to be locked down in blood. He didn’t care for any unforeseen consequences of this rule; if it meant they all had to convert to veganism, then good. Better for the goddamn environment otherwise. Likewise when it came to their family--  just an added level of protection to ensure that they’d never wield any weapon against them, or plot against them either. The last thing they needed was the Order to contract their murderous plans out.  But the contract also needed to have some flexibility. “In case we need to...add anything, later. Is that possible? Could we leave a door open, somehow?” he murmured to her. If anyone could manage that, it would be Belle. “Anything else?” he asked her, glancing back at the three men before he looked down at the sheet of paper. So far, the contract did not even fill one page, but that was because the script was tight, well-written. Howl was just drawing the last bit of blood, and so soon, it would be signed. 
BELLE: There was nothing Belle had learned in her Contracts class that would help her with this. There was nothing in her criminal justice or torts or wills and trusts classes that would help her write up a contract, signed in blood, sealing someone’s fate.
A part of her didn’t want to. It felt wrong. Belle had had her own fate messed with plenty of times and she knew that helpless feeling that came with it being out of your hands. After all, she remembered how difficult it had been to break Hades’ contract with Yubaba, once upon a time. What it had cost them. Blood magic was not something to take lightly. She supposed, at the least, she could give the Golden Trio that: she would take this seriously, carry it heavily in her own heart. 
Of course, she didn’t owe them anything--not even this small kindness--but she felt as if she did not hold onto it, she would lose a part of herself to this contract. 
She also knew that if she told any of this to Hades, he wouldn’t understand. Belle didn’t blame him for this. He was strong and sure. And he was right. This was what needed to be done. His murmurings made her feel stronger, more sure as she wrote the notes out on a separate piece of paper. They had shown the trio mercy twice now and they had not cared. This would ensure her family’s safety. And that would be all that mattered. 
In the end, this is what the contract read: 
By willingly giving blood to seal this contract, John Francis Fitzwilliam Smith, Phillip Julian Brenton Harris Hubert Knightley, and Thomas Richard Edward Harrington III, hitherto referred to as “the promisors” vow to obey the stipulations set out below by Belle Rose Acheron, Hades Acheron, Toulouse Henri Bonfamille, Merida Elinor DunBroch, and their dependents: Opal Grace Acheron, Aidan Alexander Acheron, and Bellamy Henri Acheron, hitherto referred to as the “the promisees.” 
I. The promisors shall not raise a weapon against the promisees, nor any sentient creature, being, or entity, with the intent to kill. They shall not be indirectly involved in the death of the promisees nor any sentient creature, being, or entity, through nefarious means such as, but not limited to: hiring someone to kill them, giving information that may cause another to harm them, etc.
II. Punishment for killing those outlined in stipulation “I” will result in the death of the promisor who committed the act. Deaths caused by reasonable accident including, but not limited to: vehicular death, medical death, or elsewise, will not result in the promisor’s death. 
III. Additionally, the promisors shall not plot or scheme against the promisees, nor their other family--blood or otherwise--whether with the intention of retribution, punishment, or other malicious intent. They will not give information to others that might insist in causing harm to the promisees. 
IV. Attempts to achieve the stipulations outlined in “III” will result in the promisors becoming incapacited until which point they stop attempting to speak against the promisees. 
V. The promisors swear to follow further instructions laid out by the promisees within reason. This is limited, but not limited to, requests for intelligence on the promisees’ enemies, protection, and other requests that would uphold the spirit of this contract. 
VI. This contract may only be broken by statements made willingly and without coercion by the majority of independent promisees to the promisors.
Belle set down the pen gently on the counter. She curled her hand and tucked it under the table, into the folds of her skirt, to hide its trembling. Taking a deep breath, she nodded to Hades and then reached out for his arm as she got off the stool, to help steady herself. 
“I think they will find this...satisfactory,” Belle told Howl, lifting her chin slightly to make up for the way her voice wavered. 
HOWL:  “And now the fun part.” Howl winked, taking the contract from Belle. It floated in the air, soon joined by the vial of blood and a quill. “I’ll need all of you to sign this in turn — we can start with you, darling.” He smiled at Phillip, who took the quill without hesitation, the red mark on his neck still fresh, and dipped the nib of the feather in the blood and signed his name with a flourish. The other two followed.
Howl took the parchment back, holding it for a moment, before he let it drift towards the spell circle. It hovered for a moment and then burst into flame.
“Oh, I love that part,” sighed Howl. He could get into how it was a reaction of all the reagents that had already formed the binding rune on the floor (plus a little extra help from Calcifer, who’d lent him some demon flame for the occasion). The rune began to glow, also catching fire — except it did not emit heat. Not to Howl or Belle or Hades, at least, but for the three men, it would feel as if their hearts had caught aflame, burning brightly and fiercely and painfully to remind them of their promise and bind them fully to the words written on the page. 
The flame burned orange, before it settled into a red — a deep crimson, like the blood spilled on the page, and then finally, after it reached its hottest, it snuffed out at once, leaving nothing but a whiff of smoke that soon dissipated.
And where the blood was drawn across the three men, there were now faint marks — scars that could be passed off as just a scar, but would mark them forever bound to the Blood Oath.
“There we go,” said Howl. “Oh — I have a copy here.” And a replica of the parchment popped out from his satchel. “Duplication paper! Marvelous. One of Mel’s little trinkets she left with me.”
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lou-bonfightme · 2 years
Text
À bientôt || [Loud Bell + Simber aka Big Fam]
In which Hades, Belle, and Simba send their partners and children off before the showdown...[takes place: September 27]
@trip-downtheriverstyx, @labellerose-acheron, @ber-bonfamille-lyons, @simba-bonfamille-lyons
tw -- talk of kidnapping/murder/death/anticipation of bad things, etc.
SIMBA: The decision to have his family leave town was not Simba’s idea. It had been Hades who had approached him quietly, a few nights after the Blackwells had announced their dreadful gala. They stood in the hallway of a darkened Town Hall, a board meeting having just finished, and Hades explained how he and Belle were planning to spirit away their children before the event began. At first, Simba hadn’t understood why Hades was telling him this until he realized that they needed someone else to help Toulouse, who was leaving with them.
And that person was Berlioz.
It had not been an easy pitch to convince Ber. Simba appreciated his husband’s stubbornness (because he wouldn’t call it bravery) to stay with him. In the end, that was not what this was about. It was about making sure that Ashlee, Opal, Aidan, and Bellamy were going to be okay. Simba’s safety didn’t matter half as much as that, Ber’s loyalty didn’t matter half as much as that.
The day had drawn closer, hanging above them like a dark cloud and now it hung above them: threatening rain. Quit literally. The sky was dark with clouds that looked about ready to split at the seams any moment. 
Inside the Acheron house, it was a bustle of activity as the parents darted around trying to find this thing or that thing. Juggling the children as they periodically cried or otherwise needed attention. When Simba and Berlioz arrived, they nearly collided with Belle coming out of the door, her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, a folded up playpen dwarfing her as she struggled to pull it out of the house. 
“Oh!” she yelped as all three of them startled. 
“Sorry, Belle,” Simba apologized and reached out for the playpen, lifting it easily from her grasp. He had expected her to fight him on it, but she just let it go. He put it under his arm. “I imagine this is going to the car?” 
She nodded. 
“Alright, I’ll do that.” He hefted it up under his arm. “Put us to work. We’re here to help, aren’t we, Ber?” Simba smiled sunnily at his husband. This was slated to be a rather somber affair, so if he could make it even a little lighter, he wanted to. 
BERLIOZ: So this was a stupid fucking idea. 
Not the running away-- Berlioz was all about that. In fact, with the impending doom scheduled (right on time; Swynlake had to lob one at him and his family at least every other year or who knows what would happen), Berlioz thought it was time for an extended vacation, perhaps one where they didn’t come back. Well. Alright, maybe that was an overreaction. But Berlioz had been pissed when Simba sat him and Ashlee down and told him about Zira’s evil plan, and the risks, and then told them that he would be staying. Of course. Because he was the heir of this whole goddamn tour. 
Berlioz had tried to argue. He didn’t want to go without Simba; ideally, Simba would stick a finger up at this whole thing the way he had done with InterPride and they could find peace and safety somewhere else, even if it was only for a week or two until this all played out.
It had been pointless. Berlioz knew it was pointless. Simba remained steadfast, loyal, and true-- things that Berlioz loved about him, things that he hated. 
If it weren’t for Ashlee, he would have dug his heels in, punished Simba for his stubborn loyalty with Ber’s stubborn loyalty. Though not to a town or a character or Arthur Pendragon-- but to him. And their family. And the bands around their fingers. That wouldn’t work though. Ashlee didn’t know Lou all that well, and leaving her with three kids and too much to worry about seemed unfair. 
So Berlioz had packed a bag. And he was here. But it was still a stupid fucking idea. 
Ber fiddled with his wedding ring now as they greeted Belle. Er--Simba greeted him. Ber remained quiet, one step back, though he offered half-smile at Simba and then went for another one of the suitcases. 
“Everything goin’ okay in there?” he asked Belle, hearing a bit of commotion. That would be transferred into the car in a little under an hour. 
Right on cue: Opal, tearing through the house. “UNCLE SIMBA!” she cried out nice and loud before colliding with his legs. She wrapped her arms around and smiled up at him. She garbled a bunch of words that Berlioz could not make out.
Hades appeared with a sigh. “She’s asking for help picking out her ‘travel dress.’ She won’t settle on anything,” Hades said this to Belle with an annoyed crease in his eyebrow. “This is all Lou’s fault.” 
SIMBA: “Hey little demon,” Simba chuckled as Opal slammed into him, her little arms wrapping around one of his legs as she grinned up at him. Usually, Opal looked like a pretty even split between her parents, but that smile was all her own. (Maybe just because Simba didn’t see either Belle or Hades grin like that very often.)
He glanced over at Hades as he came up behind his wife, then back down to Opal with a smile wide enough to match her own.
“No, it’s not,” he heard Lou call from up the stairs.
Opal giggled.
“Are you giving your parents a hard time?” he asked the girl with a raised eyebrow. She shook her head emphatically.
“Opal, let go of Uncle Simba,” Belle said, holding out her hand for her daughter to take instead, but she clung stubbornly to him. He felt her arms tighten around his thigh. Jeez, when did the kid get so strong? With his hands full, he couldn’t peel her off of him.
“Hey, Opal,” Simba said her name to get her attention and she glanced up at him. “You know who loves picking out outfits?”
Her brow furrowed as she thought about it and then she shook her head.
“Your Uncle Ber.”
“Really?” She brightened up at once.
“Oh, yeah, definitely.”
Opal unattached herself from him but then threw herself on Ber’s legs. “Uncle Ber, Uncle Ber. C’mon, I will show you all my dresses! I have sooooo many.”
Simba gave Ber a smile at the look he shot him and then leaned in to kiss the side of his head before Opal dragged him off. Belle chuckled as she watched them, her arms around herself, holding her elbows tight.
“Well done,” she snorted.
Simba shrugged as he picked up the suitcase Ber left behind. “I figured distracting them both was probably a good idea. I’m gonna go put these in the car. If you bring down anything else the babies will need, just put it by the front door and I’ll pack it up. I am great at jigsaws.” He knew it was going to be a tight squeeze with three babies and three adults in the car.    
BERLIOZ:  Berlioz shot Simba a look, half-panicked. Not that he didn’t know how to handle Opal. By now he knew quite well, but-- normally it was always Berlioz and someone else tag-teaming her. If there was anything about Opal, it was that she was a handful. Took several handlers, unless you were a toddler whisperer, like Simba, so really the way this scene shoulda gone was Simba going off to convince Opal into her ballerina tutu and Berlioz would take bag duty, a much less complicated thing. Plus, he could use that time to complain to Belle about this whole thing.
Well. Actually. She was a knight too. She’d probably say the same stupid shit about keeping them all safe, and having to stay because of divine destiny, and because she believed in Swynlake and it was her home and her duty to protect it… 
Yeah, maybe Berlioz wanted to talk to Lou. Someone sane. 
So he went all the way up to Opal’s room. His eyebrows shot up immediately at all the clothes laid out. “So I see you’ve been workin’ on this for a while,” he deadpanned. Opal was not old enough to understand Berlioz’s humour, so she just giggled and skipped forward. She grabbed a dragon onesie and held it up. “Look, Uncle Ber!” 
Berlioz nodded. “Mm, yeah, that looks comfy.” She babbled something in incoherent toddler speak. He picked out something about “guarding” them from “baddies.” 
It made him frown. “Opal, you don’t gotta worry about that. We’re just going on a...a family vacation. A special one, for you and me and your TonTon. Right, Lou?” 
HADES: Hades watched Opal and Berlioz scamper off for a moment before he turned back to Belle and Simba. He went for another bag they’d brought down: one of Lou’s. Hades had told Lou he didn’t need so much shit, but it had been a pointless comment. Of course Lou was going to pack more ridiculous outfits than he needed, even if they’d only be gone… Hades didn’t know. He tried not to linger on that part of it. If he did, he’d start to worry and he’d want to do something he had never wanted to do before-- flee. It wasn’t like him at all. He wasn’t a coward. He’d grown up with more magic than most, understanding its responsibility. Obviously his place was in Swynlake and by Belle’s side. 
But he’d never been separated from his kids before. Not like this. Not for so long. Perhaps it would just be a week away, and it would be exactly what Opal needed to shake off the last of the nightmares from the Order’s attacks. He wanted that for her. She deserved a nice and normal holiday… to see the beaches, play some silly carnival games, go to a play, get a new pretty dress from her TonTon. But if things went wrong… it was hard to predict. Maybe he wouldn’t see Opal for much longer. He had this pit in his stomach that made him more uncertain. It felt like a premonition, telling Hades to go, to stay with his family. (He was staying with his family...his family was just split down the middle. And so was his heart). He knew that Simba understood all of that. As soft and sentimental as he was, he was going through the same thing. And so it was with that in mind that Hades headed out behind Simba with Lou’s bag and said, “So-- how’s Berlioz doing with all this?” 
TOULOUSE: Toulouse was glad to be leaving. He was pissed, of course. Thought that both Belle and Hades were idiots. It comforted him that, at least, Hades was only staying behind to protect Belle. (Really, that just made him angrier at Belle. Not because he cared about Hades’ safety more, but because she was being selfish.) He wondered if without the babies, he would make a different choice. To stay. (Part of him didn’t think he would. Was he a bad partner for that? Did he not love Belle and Hades enough?)
Thankfully, there were the babies and because of them, Lou could not dwell on the existential. He had to focus on the children. Getting them packed and put in the car. Protecting them, above anything else, even his own heart.
If only Opal would cooperate. He rarely lost his patience with her, but it was a near thing now. She was being impossible. And he was not the kind of parent to wrestle her into just anything and toss her in the car. (Was he really much of a parent at all? Or the indulgent uncle who let her get away with taking over an hour to pick out an outfit.) He was frowning at Opal’s bed, where her outfits were all laid out. They had already packed her favourite books and her favourite toys, Mr. Fox laying on top of the bag, so he wouldn’t be forgotten and could be cuddled in the car.
When Ber and Opal arrived, he wasn’t startled but he only looked up at his brother’s comment. He rolled his eyes, scoffing slightly.
His frown shifted even a bit deeper at Opal’s words. They were, of course, careful how they spoke about the situation when Opal was around, but sometimes—they did forget. Opal was growing so fast and she was curious, smart, and emotionally intuitive. She knew that something was going on. Could feel the tension in the air. And so soon on the heels of the Order—
Lou worried about her. Children should feel safe. He had spent most of his own childhood feeling the unsteadiness of his family. He had thought—if her parents were together and loved each other, why wouldn’t she feel safe? But for Opal, and the Acherons, it was much more complicated.
He knelt down when Opal looked over at him and she skipped over, leaning against his leg. “Yes, we’re going to the ocean.”
“Fish,” she said, though not as enthusiastically as she might have otherwise.
He smiled at her and nodded. “Yes, fish. And Maman and Daddy will be joining us in a few days. They just have some business to finish up here first. Uncle Simba, too.” Opal swung her head around to look at Ber for confirmation.
SIMBA: “Oh, uh—” Simba said, glancing over his shoulder. He was surprised that Hades had followed him. Well, okay, no. Not really. Out of everyone, the two of them were the ones who would actually get everything packed and put in the car. Berlioz would lollygag, Simba already knew that. And he couldn’t imagine Lou was much better. If it wasn’t Opal spending hours picking out a travel outfit, it’d be Toulouse. And Belle—well, he didn’t know where to put her, but she seemed a little subdued, so who knew.
Hades was practical. Like Simba. They were the de facto heads of their families. So, Hades actually putting bags in the car was not surprising. What was surprising was that he was talking to Simba.
“He’s pissed at me,” Simba said with a shrug as he waved his foot under the back of the car, so the boot would open automatically. “Thinks we are all a bunch of nuts but I’m okay with that. I’d rather him be pissed and safe than here and—” He trailed off as he shoved the pack-n-play up against the back seats.
“Only reason I could convince him to go was because of Ashlee. And helping with the babies, of course. So, thanks for that. I know Lou’s capable, but even he can’t juggle three babies on his own.” Simba chuckled as he tossed the other bag into the car as well and then stepped out of the way, so Hades had access.
“Er, what about Lou?”
BERLIOZ:  Opal looked at him, and Berlioz didn’t know what to say. 
That was often the case. He couldn’t talk to kids, not… the same way as Simba or Lou. There was this special mix you had to master-- personable, funny, easy to understand but not too babyish. Ber could barely talk to adults as is, so mastering that mix was next-level impossible. He would take Opal turning him into the pet golden retriever or enemy dragon or whatever anyday-- make him bark or growl, that he could do. 
But talk to Opal about going away without her parents? No, he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t lie. Because...it might be a lie. Maybe it would be longer than a week.
Maybe her parents wouldn’t join them.
Maybe--
No. Berlioz slammed a wall down in his own brain, as his anxiety started to fester. He was catastrophizing. If he catastrophized, he’d send himself into a panic attack and he couldn’t do that in front of Opal, or with Ashlee coming in little under a half hour, or with Simba looking for him to be strong. If he had to focus on any of his shitty emotions, he had to pick anger. Anger was at least goddamn productive. It made him braver, albeit brash and bitchy. He’d just be pissed-- and hold onto it so he could lash out at Simba when they saw each other again. Because they would see each other again.
To Opal now? “Yeah,” was all he uttered at first. Then: “But don’t you wanna hang out with us instead, eh? We’re waaaaay cooler than your parents.” 
That made Opal giggle. “Waaaaaaaaaaay cooler,” she said, trying to mimic his accent. 
“Sooooo much cooler. Now c’mon, show us that cool dragon outfit!”
Opal squealed and instantly started to change, right then and there. Berlioz let out a sigh all his own that felt like the release of a fifteen-tonne weight. Except he still carried so much. This was only the beginning. There’d be more questions and moments like this one, Berlioz not sure what to do or say-- Opal and the twins missing their parents. He glanced up at his brother, and was so fucking happy he wasn’t doing this by himself. 
“Well, maybe that’ll be the hardest part of the trip, eh?” he half-joked, knowing it wouldn’t be. “You ready for this?” 
HADES: Well, if push came to shove, Hades thought Lou could handle three babies on his own. It would be a chore, but over the past few months, Lou had become so integral that he was like another set of Hades’s hands. Maybe that was his true magic-- along with his ability to know instinctively when Hades was getting overwhelmed and needed him. He always seemed to appear, a step ahead, intuition perfectly tuned, ready to take a twin or wrestle a difficult Opal into a better mood. 
Or sometimes, he’d appear and say just the right thing to make Hades laugh. And the whole day lifted. 
Hades would miss that. 
He didn’t want to send Lou away-- unlike Simba. Of course he wanted to keep his partner safe, but Hades always believed the best way to do what was by keeping him close. And hadn’t he and Belle always faced their demons together? He never pushed Belle to the side-- magic or no magic. He’d treat Lou the same if he could. 
But he had three children. He had three children, and Lou was not a warrior in the same way that Belle was a warrior, so Hades could crave Lou, could need Lou, but it would be selfish, not smart. Now as the time to be smart. 
“I think Lou’s happy to go. Well. Happy’s an overstatement. Or not the right word. He’s not in any rush to defend Swynlake against the forces of evil is all. Must be Bonfamille blood.” Not that Hades was doing any of this for this Swynlake. He was doing it for-- future Swynlake. For his children. For Belle. 
“But he knows this is how it works. And as long as I am who I am and Belle is who she is… things like this will happen.” Hades slammed a car door shut. “That’s why it’s called Fate.”  
TOULOUSE: Toulouse could hear his brother’s fluttering heartbeat. He could actually hear much more than that. Opal’s heartbeat too. The twins in their playpen next to him (he’d moved it in to Opal’s room so he could keep an eye on them). Belle downstairs in the kitchen moving cups around. He couldn’t hear her heartbeat from her, but still. And he could hear Simba and Hades’ feet crunching the gravel outside and the murmur of conversation, though not their words.
He was going to miss this all. The idea of it disappearing made him feel unsteady and angry. It was a good thing he had a perceptive toddler to take care of, otherwise, he was afraid he might breakdown. His family centered him. The balance was a delicate one, and losing Hades and Belle? Them putting themselves in danger? It felt unnatural and...frightening.
But, he didn’t have time to think about it, because his caillou needed him, and his little brother’s heart was pounding, despite his smile.
He helped Opal out of her clothes and then into the dragon onesie as his brother spoke. glancing at him, he just pursed his lips slightly. “Of course, I am,” he told him, even if it wasn’t true. Because it was what he needed to tell himself. And it was probably what Ber needed to hear. “It will be fine. Caillou is going to be a good big sister, aren’t you?”
Opal nodded seriously, glancing over at the twins before looking back at him.
“Going to entertain them in the car, hm?”
“Yeah!” She grinned big.
“See? No problem. It’s not too long of a drive. By the time we get to Bournemouth, they’ll all be knocked out anyway and I’ve got a full itinerary for the next few days.” After Friday, there was nothing on the schedule, but by Friday, the rest of the family was supposed to be joining them. Until then, he’d planned trips to the museums and markets and beach, to keep the children occupied and Ber’s mind off of things.
SIMBA: Simba wanted to joke about defending Swynlake from the forces of evil, but the words felt like ash in his mouth. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this was his fault. Somehow. Or, at the very least, his family’s true legacy. This long term, terrible curse. He still hadn’t been able to reconcile that with the history he had known. And he didn’t know how much was true. After all, Simba had never approached Zira. Partially because Arthur had told him to keep his distance, but partially because...well, he was scared to learn the truth. He wondered, if he had earlier, would they all be in this situation? His family unsafe. Hades’ family unsafe? All of Swynlake, potentially, unsafe?
And he wondered if the same thing Hades said was true for him too. If, for as long as he was who he was, his family would not be safe.
The idea didn’t sit right with him. How was he supposed to have children if he worried about things like ancient family curses? Or a responsibility to a taking care of a whole town? He already felt guilty enough, keeping Ber away, when his place was at Simba’s side.
His shoulders felt incredibly heavy.
“Maybe,” Simba agreed. Though, he still didn’t understand why Allah still felt the need to test him, over and over. Hadn’t he proven himself?
Simba sighed and let his armor drop, for just a moment, thinking about going home tonight to an empty house. An empty bed. At least Hades had the benefit of keeping Belle close. Though, he supposed, being separated from his children must be just as hard, if not harder. He wouldn’t be alone, though, and that—Simba was jealous of.
“Can I ask you something?” Simba turned to face Hades properly. “If something happens to me, would you just—look after them? I-I know Lou and Belle will look after Berlioz but...my mum. She’s got her sister in London but I dunno just...I’m all she has left. And Ashlee. She’s an adult now, but she isn’t ready to be on her own. I know you’ve got your own family but Nala is in Kenya and I don’t want to involve Kiara in any of this and I just—wanna make sure they’re taken care of. I’ve got money put aside for all of them, but...I’d just feel better if you were looking out for them.” 
HADES: At Simba’s question, Hades raised his eyebrows. 
The answer did not need to be spoken, necessarily. Naturally Hades would step in to help the Bonfamille-Lyons if the worse came to be. After all, in a way, they were Hades’s family too, through Lou. Lou would probably do most of the actual work...picking up after Simba, as Berlioz would naturally be a mess. He was also much better with Ashlee. They didn’t have much of a relationship but certainly more than Hades, and he knew enough about the girl’s trauma to know that a stranger stepping in would not be good for her.
But.
But all of that hypothetical thinking was a waste of his energy. It was a waste of Simba’s too. Hades understood the proclivity to worry as having three children made him more predisposed to it, but he was also practiced at keeping his worry in a separate place in his mind, or making it quiet when he needed to focus.
And now was the time for Simba and Hades to focus. 
“It goes without saying that I would,” said Hades. “But you can’t start thinking like that, Lyons. You make that future more likely if you speak it. Have more confidence, eh? That’s what your family needs from you. Don’t talk like you’ve already lost-- you need to think like that isn’t even an option. Because it isn’t.” 
That’s what Hades’s confidence-- some called it arrogance-- gave him. 
At this moment, the door opened again, and Opal came scampering out, Ber and Lou trailing behind. She nearly stumbled onto the rough steps of their pathway, but caught herself. Even if she did fall, Opal wasn’t one to cry these days. She would have just picked herself up again.
“Daddy! Uncle Simba! Look!” She stopped in front of them and made two claws out of her hand. “GRRRRRRR”
Hades reacted as a father should, clutching his chest. “Oi! A dragon’s eaten my daughter!” 
SIMBA: Simba was not a pessimist. No matter how much the world tried to make him one. He tried to be optimistic about things, to believe in fate, in Allah, in things happening the way they were supposed to. And if he thought like that, he thought that this couldn’t be the end for him. There was so much more that he needed to do. He needed to make it to his second wedding anniversary, his fifth, tenth, twentieth, fiftieth. He still needed to convince Ber to have a baby with him. (Well, he’d convinced him, but they hadn’t done it yet.) They hadn’t been to Asia or South America yet. Or taken their trip to Antarctica to see the singing penguins...
And, of course, in front of Ber, Simba wouldn’t let any of that worry wiggle its way in. With Hades, though, there was really nothing to lose. Hades would understand what Simba was asking. Would, maybe, understand that it wasn’t a weakness to think such a thing. Just—practical, born out of love more than anything. In front of Ber, Simba would be strong. All smiles and buoyed confidence. And he’d believe it enough that Ber would believe it too. But, for just a moment, it was nice to have someone else being the one to tell him it was okay.
Simba nodded and was about to say something else when Opal burst out of the house. Ber and Lou appeared in the doorway behind her, both carrying one of the twins and a suitcase. He couldn’t help but smile at Ber before looking down at Opal as she ran up to them.
He let out a breath of a chuckle and then leaned over to squint a bit at Opal. She bared her teeth at him. “Hades, wait—I think...I think the dragon is your daughter!” Simba reached out and scooped Opal up, nom-noming on her fuzzy stomach as she squealed and squirmed.
“Daddy help!”
Simba let Hades rescue Opal and grabbed the suitcase from Ber, pinching Aidan (Bellamy? Hell, he didn’t know they looked exactly the same) (it was Aidan for the record) on the cheek before leaning in to kiss Ber. He turned to put the suitcase in the boot. When he looked back over, Belle had appeared, Shuck following dutifully at his mistress’ side.
She wordlessly stood at Toulouse’s elbow and he handed a sleepy Bellamy over to her. Bellamy snuggled up against his mother’s collarbone and she pressed her nose into his hair. Simba glanced away, feeling something twist in his gut.
“Is, uh—that everything from the house?” Simba asked, clearing the sudden tightness in his throat. He slipped up next to Ber and touched his back, trailing his hand up until he rested it on the back of his husband’s warm neck.
“I believe so,” Lou said, looking perfect, not at all ruffled or distressed, though his hands hung a bit awkwardly at his sides now that he was not holding one of the children.
“Right, well—” Simba’s fingers clenched slightly at Ber’s neck “—should probably get the children settled in the car, eh?” 
BERLIOZ:  So this was it. 
No, it wasn’t it; it was the beginning. Berlioz knew that, and was both relieved and exhausted all at the same time, if that made any bloody sense at all. He was relieved that the beginning of this trip meant that he and Lou and the children would be safe. He was glad to be leaving Swynlake, for once ahead of its terrible storm. For a long time, Swynlake never afforded him that kinda luxury. And he really shouldn’t thank the town this time either, because it was Simba, not Swynlake, who was clearing the roads and makin’ sure they got out.
But he was exhausted because he didn’t know when any of this was gonna end. He was exhausted, knowing that for the next...so many nights, he’d be curling up alone without Simba’s familiar breath or his warmth against Berlioz’s back. Would he even be able to sleep? How the hell was he going to keep up this facade of a happy-go-lucky vacation for a bunch of smart kids, and Ashlee, who definitely knew shit was going down, and needed someone much stronger than Berlioz to reassure her. 
With thoughts like that turning themselves into knots in Berlioz’s mind, it seemed clear to him-- Simba should be the one to go. If some Lyons had to stay behind, well, he’d taken the name. Couldn’t he count? No, that wasn’t martyrdom, just plain facts. 
But he was a coward, and Simba was not. And he’d never follow that path of logic.
So this was it. 
There was a pause between Simba’s words, filled in a beat later by Hades, not Berlioz. 
“C’mere, lovely!” he exclaimed, and he lifted Opal into his arms. She squealed. Berlioz watched as he spun her once around, making her laugh again, before he zoomed toward the car, making noises like he was a giant spaceship. “Annnnnd she lands!” he exclaimed, tucking Opal into one of the seats.
Berlioz’s heart pounded hard, he could feel it like a fist in his throat. He turned to Simba. “What if you changed your mind and came with us anyway?” the words spilled out, useless, selfish. He knew the answer. He still had to say it. 
SIMBA: Simba sighed and glanced away from Berlioz, though he didn’t stop touching him. This was what it felt like—looking away, but still reaching behind. Simba wanted to go. More than anything, he wanted to go. 
“You know I want to,” Simba turned back to Ber, shifting his weight so he could swing around in front of him. He wrapped his arms around Ber. A bit awkward, because his husband was still holding a baby, but that didn’t matter much to Simba. 
He leaned in and kissed Ber, nose, then his cheek. “I love you. I just—I need to this. For me. I don’t know if it makes me selfish or—“ 
Belle cleared her throat a bit and Simba turned as she gestured to the baby. Simba leaned in and kissed the baby’s soft little head before letting Belle take him from Ber. When she was gone, Simba turned back to Ber and wrapped his arms properly around him, his shoulders, squeezing him tight. 
“We are gonna be together again soon, I promise. I will see you in a few days.” He squeezed him tighter, closing his eyes. 
BELLE: Belle was struggling. 
She didn’t think she would, but as the last one in the house, she realized how still it was. Not quiet, because the house was never quiet, but still. Empty. Once, only Belle and Hades were in this house together, and that had been enough. Then, there had been Opal and that had been enough. Then, the twins and Toulouse and all the animals and this house breathed. Going back just to Hades and Belle felt wrong. 
Having her children taken away from her made her feel like she was losing a piece of herself. 
She took Bellamy from Toulouse’s arms, crawled into the third row of the car, settling him into his car seat. “I love you,” she told her sweet, chubby faced baby. “I love you so much and I am going to miss you.” Bellamy blinked serenely at her, always so content. “Be brave.” 
Belle passed Hades buckling Opal into her car seat. Went out the other door and got Aidan from Simba and Berlioz. She buckled him into the seat next to his brother and gave him a goodbye too, her eyes watering as he started to squirm and twist his face. But Belle just kissed both of them several times and then switched spots, so she could say goodbye to Opal. 
“Maman loves you,” she told her daughter, crouching in front of her. 
“I know, Maman. I love you, too.” 
Belle smiled. “You’re going to be brave, oui?” 
“GRRR,” Opal lifted her hands and made claws. 
Belle laughed through her tears. “That’s my demon. You keep your Tonton in line.”
“Oui, Maman.”
“I will see you soon.”
“Bye-bye.”
Belle slipped out of the car and stumbled right into Toulouse’s arms. He squeezed her shoulders and she cried against him, hiding her face away from Opal. 
“You will see them soon,” Toulouse told her, rubbing her shoulder. She nodded and pulled away. She reached up and touched his cheek and then popped up on her tiptoes. She kissed his cheek and then his lips softly. 
“Take care of them, alright? And yourself. Don’t worry about us. I love you.”
Toulouse’s cheeks were pink and his eyes were glassy but he nodded and blinked quickly. “Oui, je t’aime. À bientôt.”
BERLIOZ:  Simba told him what Berlioz knew was coming. And yet it was still like swallowing a rock, a rock that fell through him and kept falling, and would keep falling, as long as Simba was away from him. 
In that moment, all he could do was hold onto Simba and trick himself into believing otherwise. 
The only comfort he had was turning back to the past. As he squeezed Simba back, he could see the edges of every obstacle they climbed over. There was a whole fucking mine field of them, his last five or six years a battlefield strewn with debris. But he was on the other side, or at least, nearly there. Simba had come back from worse, hadn’t he? Wasn’t Taka worse than this? (Debatable-- a different kind of evil than openly vengeful vampire relatives.) Wasn’t Hell opening worse than this? (Would Hell open again, this time without Berlioz to fetch him back?) 
And Simba promised. 
Berlioz didn’t believe in a lot of things--and there had been a time when Simba’s word had become a flimsy thing-- but these days, Simba’s word was eternal. It was wrapped in gold and pressed forever into Berlioz’s finger. If Simba promised, he promised. 
If Simba broke that promise, Berlioz would just have to open hell himself this time, and make him regret it. 
He pulled away, but only so he could kiss Simba gently, their lips as gentle as hands meeting in prayer. Then he pulled back again, but this time, for real. “I love you,” he murmured. “So don’t bloody die.” 
And then he climbed into the car. 
HADES:  Hades was struggling, too. 
Hades was a lucky man-- and wasn’t that a problem? As he helped his kids into the car, he could count all his riches with his own eyes. His daughter. His sons. His wife, who was stronger than him, even with tears in her eyes (or maybe because she had tears in her eyes, but was unafraid of them). And a partner in Lou, who was a different kind of strong-- maybe the best word was reliable, the way the moon was in its cyclical waxing and waning; it knew the art of both dark and light. 
He didn’t want to lose any of them. With Lou and the children gone, he felt crippled in a way-- like tourmaline had been laced around his neck or Zira would boast another one of those goddamn charms that shielded her from his power. For a brief moment, he worried he was the one who would let them down-- that he wouldn’t be strong enough, without them. 
But he did not hold onto that thought for long.
He would have to find a different strength, so he could meet them at the coastline the way he had promised. And perhaps that in itself would be Hades’s new weapon: a vision of himself arriving at sunset, gold tossed in Opal’s hair as she dashed through the sand into his open arms. He’d smell the sea, taste it on Lou’s lips, tuck himself into a holiday if only for a little while. But only once he earned it. 
He drifted toward Lou and Belle, and his hand instinctively moved to graze Lou’s back. “And don’t let Opal boss you around too much, eh?” he mentioned as a light joke, before leaning in to kiss Lou gently, and then whisper in his ear. “We’ll come for you.” 
He stepped back, reached for Belle’s hand to squeeze it-- to hold it like an anchor-- while his family drove away.
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mamabear-elinor · 3 years
Text
Change This Cursed Fate -> [Brave Women feat. Belle]
@heart-of-dunbroch
Elinor was back in the quaint cottage on the edge of town. And, somehow, she felt even more uncomfortable than she had before. Strange, considering the werewolf and the demon man were no where to be found. This time it was just the women and the children. A demographic that Elinor was not only familiar with, but usually entirely comfortable around.
And, despite their father being a demon(?), the children were precious  as they sat in their playpen. She would put them somewhere between 9 months and not quite a year. When she had first arrived, she had asked, but Belle had simply ignored her, declaring she was going to set the kettle on. Elinor had looked at Merida, who had only shrugged. Her daughter wouldn’t know the date anyway, though Elinor wasn’t sure she’d tell her if she did. 
Instead, she just settled awkwardly on one of the lovely leather chairs in deep maroon. Merida had settled on the couch and it wasn’t a second later that the toddler had come charging at her. Growling and spitting, swinging her arms so wildly that Elinor almost didn’t catch the sight of the hot pink cast on her arm. 
There were more questions, but this time, Elinor knew better than to ask. She had gotten a very angry, very brief update on that whole...situation from her daughter. It was...confusing to see the evidence now. She couldn’t bring herself to think that any of those chivalrous, lovely boys she knew could have harmed a child. It didn’t make sense to her. 
So, she just sat with her lips pressed firmly together, watching as Opal climbed all over Merida. It reminded Elinor of her boys, when Merida used to play with them. She wondered if Merida missed her brothers, but shot that thought down quickly, as it was far too painful.
Belle came back over with a tray of tea, setting it down silently on the table before pouring her own glass. It was rather rude she didn’t offer to pour Elinor’s, but Elinor held her tongue as she leaned forward to pour herself a cup, feeling a bit better with the mug in her hands. 
“So,” Belle started, glancing at Merida before looking at Elinor. “You turned into a bear?” 
“Allegedly,” Elinor replied primly. 
“How did it happen?”
“I don’t know.” She bristled. “That’s why we are here.” 
[elinor’s outfit] [belle’s outfit]
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