#VA Vandevere | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

notmanagingmymischief · 3 years

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𝘾𝙤𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚 𝙈𝙖𝙧𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙩 | 𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙥𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙣 𝙨𝙠𝙞𝙚𝙨 '𝙣 𝙨𝙞𝙥𝙥𝙞𝙣 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙨

sooo.....y/n wasn't supposed to have an act in the show. but then i wanted to show how easily VA can manipulate people into doing what he wants so she has an act now. sorry about that lmao

also, petite étoile is little star in French. it's used repeatedly so i figured i would keep that here gsdhafj

French used in this story, in order:

"Why is someone as beautiful as you in this place?"

"Are you also French?"

"See you soon, my dear."

"Is the little star uncomfortable?"

"No, simply...unused to the attention."

"You look beautiful dressed like this."

"Of course we do, darling."

title source: "youth" by troye sivan

warnings: swearing, heights/falling from great heights, french

word count: 8,686 (very satisfying)

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enjoy xx

My arms pump at my sides and my chest heaves as I sprint around the performers who all crawl forward to get closer to where I head. I see the men up ahead of me, Holt and Max, standing in front of a sleek, shiny black Porsche. I'm nearly out of breath by the time I reach them and shove my way around everyone in order to stand beside Milly and Joe. Just as I come to a halt the door opens and a fancy looking cane pops out, at which time some other guy introduces him, as Mr. Vandevere. I unconsciously turn my nose up at the man; he's snobby and fancy and clearly thinks himself as better than us, even without having said a word. I see movement from inside the car yet, and assume it's another one of his colleagues that he brought to pester us, about Dumbo no doubt.

But instead, the most gorgeous woman I've seen slowly steps from the vehicle, taking Vandevere's proffered hand with a polite smile. My eyes remain locked on the strange woman, her flaming red hair catching my attention the most. It's held in a strange curled updo, but even with it's size it somehow manages to look good on her. Decorated with a large feather looking to belong to a peacock, it's overall a very extravagant style. When she straightens, I can see the rest of her outfit. 'Dumbo is gonna have a heart attack if he sees all those feathers,' I think with a little titter. The sound must have been loud enough for people to finally register my presence as soon all attention is on me.

Vandevere takes a few steps forward with his hand out to shake and asks, accent posh and annoying, "My my, who do we have here?" I steel myself before putting on my best polite smile, returning his hand shake that lasts just a little too long as I reply "My name is y/n l/n. Wonderful to meet your acquaintance, Mr. Vandevere." His eye brow cocks and his lips lift into a smirk at my manners; "Well you're quite well spoken for someone of your status." I try not to let the comment get to me, knowing it would only serve to please him further. So I just hum and nod stiffly, rubbing my hand roughly on my jeans. My status. Who does he think he's talking to? I'm the trainer here, I'm not just some common freak in Max's show.

Without much else said, Max leads all of us away and towards his "office". I end up falling into pace with the beautiful redhead, Colette Marchant I think I heard him say? We stay silent, but I do brave a few glances here and there over to her. She has yet to speak a word, but the way that she holds herself is telling enough. She stands in the same rank as Vandevere; high and mighty, unwilling to interact with those less than her. Would make sense, if they really do come from where they say they do. Anyway, we arrive at Max's place, but Holt's kids and I are all shooed away and told to go do something else. I, obviously being the oldest, glance down at them and say "C'mon, let's go get Dumbo. They'll be by him soon, I don't doubt."

And I'm right, of course, as about ten minutes later while I work with the kids to continue training the flying elephant, voices begin to filter into my ears. I recognize them all, and with a sigh stand up, fixing my clothes and waving for the kids to do the same. Just in time, as they step foot inside the small tent a moment later. They're voices have died down, and all eyes are on us. Specifically, on the pachyderm at my side. My hand rests protectively on his head and my gaze remains hard, unwilling to let that Vandevere and his cane anywhere near my elephant. See, Max might own Dumbo, but he's ours. Dumbo belongs to me, Milly, and Joe, and no one else. With Mrs. Jumbo gone, it's my duty to protect him and if that means stopping him from getting publicity then so be it.

My eyes track every single movement the man makes, walking closer to inspect Dumbo and pushing his cane out, looking to try and poke at the baby's leg, only for me to take a step forward and push the stick away. "Please refrain from antagonizing him." I stand firm in front of him, about his eye level. He gives me an impressed look but it's so obviously filled with annoyance. Though he just smiles tightly and hums, retracting his cane. Before he can do anything else, he's pushed out of the way, as am I, by the redhead. I blink a few times and open my mouth to protest, but she doesn't even give me a sideways glance, so I don't bother. I watch as Colette walks slowly around Dumbo, giving him a once-over as she says "Hello there." I watch Dumbo carefully, who has his own eyes trained on something on the ground. Oh, not the ground. Colette's shoes have feathers, too.

"So this...creature of yours is supposed to fly?" I finally hear the first full sentence out of Colette and I'm honestly surprised. She's looking right at me as she paces slowly around Dumbo, but I can't seem to move past the very very strong French accent of the woman's voice. "Yes," I murmur, finally snapping myself out of it with a blush. She huffs quietly and stares at me for a moment longer before looking away. Meanwhile, Dumbo has been creeping closer, and I just see his trunk reach out and brush the sparkling black fabric away from Colette's calves to reveal the feathers on her tights as well before she spins a bit and looks down at him, making him skitter back. I let out a huff of laughter and glance between the two, mumbling "Feathers," to Colette. She gives me a weird look, but I just smile wickedly and turn back to Dumbo.

The guys are having conversation that I haven't been paying attention to until I hear my name mentioned; "Y/n's Dumbo's trainer. She and the kids taught him." My head shoots up to meet the ringmaster's eyes and then Vandevere's, who's shine with even more sick curiosity than before. It almost makes me squirm when he breathes "Ah," and steps towards us again. "And how on earth did you do that?" "Put. That. Down." Again forced to grasp the man's cane, my eyes harden further and I glare at him. I shove it down, not liking the way he had pointed it at the kids. It gives me shivers and he creeps closer, mumbling "I think you're a little too smart for your own good." But before he can say more, Colette says "Alright alright, that's enough." her heavy accent still lingering in the back of my mind. It gets Vandevere to calm down and back off, and before I know it he's guiding Max out of the tent.

Now just Colette, the 'bodyguard', Holt, and his kids are left with me, and soon the bodyguard leaves as well. Wanting to get to know what's happening, I glance at Holt, and then at Colette, before asking "Ms. Marchant, may I speak to you for a moment please?" The woman nods curtly before carefully stepping out of the tent. I would think those heels would be uncomfortable, especially on ground like this, but I don't say anything. Once we're out of earshot, I guide Colette through a little walk around the tamer parts of the circus as I speak. "So what is it you wanted to speak to me about?" she asks, and a little smile twitches at my lips. "You are French, non?" I reply back. Even just the single word makes her look at me in interest again and nod her head slowly.

My smile widens. "So you can speak it fluently, then?" I question, and Colette sighs quietly, nodding once more. Satisfied, I casually say "Pourquoi quelqu'un est-il aussi magnifique que toi dans cet endroit ?" (refer to french guide above) The use of perfect French must take the woman rightfully off guard as her step falters and her eyes shoot to mine in an instant. I smile playfully at the expression on her face as she says "Excuse me?" I shrug, leaning back on the wall that conveniently happens to be behind me and say back "Well I thought you said you're fluent." Colette's eyes narrow in suspicion, and she says "Vous etes egalement francais?" I shake my head, saying back "Non. I taught myself when I was very young. Notice the lack of an accent." The redhead's eyes light up in joy, though her face remains impassive. With a hum she glances behind us and back towards where we came from, were it looks like Max and Vandevere are returning to the tent.

Colette and I silently agree to return, but in no time we've managed to start up a conversation in French. I enjoy listening to a native speaker to hear how her lips wrap around each vowel, and she seems to find entertainment in my many slip ups. "Hey, it's been forever since I last conversed in French." I defend, blushing as she gives me an amused look. When we return, our conversation quiets down into nothing as the rest of them speak. I remain by Colette's side until she leaves with Vandevere. My parting words to her are "A bientot, ma cherie." and they make her blush, just a little bit of pink on her neck.

I don't think about our visitors much after they leave, until finally we're all rounded up one day, about a week later. Max stands on a makeshift podium and tries to get everyone's attention. I manage to get Joe up on my shoulders as he's shorter than his sister just before the ringleader starts speaking. "Everyone, I have exciting news! I'm sure you all remember Mr. Vandevere and his companion. Well, they have invited us to perform, at his park. This is--this could make us big, this could be our big break!" Max says, and the excitement in his voice is palpable and makes me chuckle despite myself. But then the worry sinks in; clearly this is a ploy of some sort to get Dumbo into the spotlight, but I'm scared it's for far more nefarious reasons than they let on.

My only comfort is the possibility that I'll see Colette again, though I know it's a purely selfish desire. Still, it keeps me from overthinking things too much as everyone slowly wanders away from Max and returns to their duties. I must have zoned out and missed the rest of his speech. So I put Joe down and urge the twins to find their father before approaching Max. Hesitantly, I say his name, causing him to turn and face me with a grin. "Yes, y/n?" He's overly chipper today. "Umm...are you sure we can trust this VA guy? He just...I dunno, he rubs me the wrong way." Max's expression dims into something resembling understanding, and he replies "Of course. What reason would he have for tricking us? Don't worry, y/n, I'm sure all will be fine."

There's a hint of finality in his voice, and I know better than to argue with the man so I simply nod and murmur "yeah...yeah, I guess you're right," and walk back to Dumbo's enclosure to practice some more before we eat.

The next days pass in a blur; packing, getting ready to leave, the excited chatter permeating the air constantly and leaving almost no time to breathe without someone cornering you about the trip. It's exhausting and I take every opportunity I can to slip away from the noise. I don't have much stuff, so I'm all ready to go anyway; it's mostly things for Dumbo. But eventually the day comes, and things move so fast that before I know it we're there and getting ready for the introductory parade that VA has planned. I'm pushed around quite a bit, being on the short side in comparison to the older members of the team, and I let out a frustrated whine when I can't find my way to the Farrier family.

"Follow me." A voice is suddenly next to my ear, and someone's hand is on my bicep, making me jump in surprise, but I recognize the silky accent belonging to none other than Colette. I relax slightly and let the woman guide me through the crowd, trusting her to get me where I need to be. She's taller than me, and weaves effortlessly to and fro until we finally arrive at our destination. I blink a few times in surprise, looking to Colette and asking "Are you--are you sure this is where I'm supposed to go?" The woman smiles and nods, pushing me gently towards the fancy car in front of me. I swallow dryly and try to figure out where to sit. Colette does so easily, swinging her legs over the door and sitting down on the back of the seats, beside VA. But there's no other empty spot except between the two, which I doubt I'm meant to occupy.

And yet, Colette once again waves me forward, and when I do so, she grasps onto my hand and pulls me towards her, until I am, in fact, sat between her and Vandevere. It makes my skin burn in embarrassment and anxiety; "Why am I up here?" I ask, and VA quickly says "Why, because you're the star of the show, darling!" I curl in on myself slightly at the endearment, letting out an offended noise and unconsciously sliding closer to VA's fairer counterpart. She chuckles quietly and practically purrs "La petite étoile est-elle mal à l'aise?" It makes me shudder but I push it back and reply "Bien sûr que non. Simplement...peu habitué à l'attention." Colette hums and I notice VA glancing between us with an odd look in his eye. Perhaps he's wary of the fact that we can communicate without his knowledge of our words?

Either way, he looks away moments later and I do my best to ignore his presence. The parade will be starting soon, after all. And it does, nary a minute later, striking up the bands and revving the engines of the cars, and we're off. Colette's arm raises the second we're within sight of the circus-goers, waving beauty pageant style, elegant and smooth. It's so hypnotic that I almost forget to wave myself, though mine is much less confident, and only comes out a few times. Otherwise, my hands lay tightly clasped in my lap. I begin to fidget and squirm in place when the crowd becomes louder, but luckily Holt points something out to Joe and I focus on that instead of the slowly increasing volume of the people. Eventually, I feel a slim arm snake around my back and pull me closer to Colette, and though I look at her in surprise, she doesn't even spare me a glance.

The statement, while taken as encouragement at face value, holds a strange tone. The man didn't say this to encourage Milly, he said it to get between her and her father, I just know it. So he's already started meddling in our business. I must have tensed so hard even Colette can feel, as she leans over to whisper something in my ear, but before she has the chance she sits up quickly as Vandevere leans over as well, getting uncomfortably close to me in the process, and asks the woman "What is it exactly that we do here?" He pauses. "Ma cheri?" His pronunciation of what is normally an elegant statement makes my nose wrinkle in disgust and I lean just that much further into Colette's form as she replies, French accent put on thick, "We make the impossible...possible." VA does a strange motion with his hand and then, thankfully, sits back, giving me space to breathe again without inhaling his too-strong cologne.

Colette's arm remains around my waist for the duration of the ride, until the car disappears under the tent at which point she removes it with one last gentle caress of my hip. I miss her warmth immediately, and soon she gets off the car completely and I shiver. But then she holds out her hand and assists me in getting off myself, giving me a fleeting smile before walking to VA's side. I sigh to myself, put on a forced smile, and follow the group to the castle that will, supposedly, be our new occupation for our stay.

The place is huge. Bigger than anything I've ever seen, and even I can't stop my jaw from dropping when I catch sight of the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, intricate murals and gigantic picture windows that the place holds. I'm so preoccupied with looking at the books, in fact, that I don't hear the others talking until my name is called out, and I spin around with a high pitched "Oh! Sorry!" and a sheepish grin. Colette smirks while the rest look at me with unimpressed amusement. Holt says "Come on y/n, Mr. Vandevere wants to show us something else." I nod, scurrying to his side as VA says "Don't worry, young lady. You'll have plenty of time to read between shows." I hum in acknowledgement, but don't give him any other reaction; I want him to know that I don't trust him.

We move as a group outside once again, walking until we reach a large white building. The sounds of horses prancing about hits my ears and I realize that this is VA's plan; get Holt hooked on the prospect of trick-riding again so he'll do what he wants. Smart, but I'm not fooled. I say nothing as we enter, though I am impressed by the gorgeous white steeds that seem to dance around the place, no doubt training for the next show. My eyes look over the rest of the place, seeing what must be Colette's training equipment, bars and swings that I assume she uses to "fly". The thought of getting to see her practice excites me, but it's cut short when my eyes catch on the last thing in the room.

"Ribbons?" I breathe, eyes going wide and fingers twitching.

It catches Vandevere's attention and he smirks; "Ah yes, you didn't think I forgot about you, did you y/n?" I don't have it in me to respond, gravitating towards the silks that hang from the ceiling. "How did you...?" I trail off as my hands brush the fine material, tugging gently to test how sturdy they are; very. From behind me, I hear VA saying "A little birdy told me you used to have your own act in your little show, long before Dumbo came along. Ribbons, isn't that right?" I nod, still in a daze. Finally I turn to look at them, and I'm sure my emotions are crystal clear in my gaze as a victorious smile stretches across the man's face that I somehow don't notice, too occupied with the idea of flying again.

"I haven't practiced in so long though...surely I couldn't--" "Nonsense. One never loses the ability to fly. Isn't that right, ma cheri?" Colette's nose turns up slightly, but still she nods and sends me a soft smile, mumbling "Exactly." I'm completely unsure of any of this, and in the back of my mind I realize it must be a ploy, but with the ribbons right there, within my grasp...I can't help but squeak "Okay, you got me. I'm in." A menacing smile forms on Vandevere's face and he nods once, stating "Wonderful." before turning back to the rest. I block everything else out after that, focusing solely on the ribbons and letting my mind run wild with images of flipping and turning in the air again, as I used to. The general unease I felt slips away completely and I sigh again, hand clasped tightly around one of the silk ties. Maybe this won't be quite as bad as I thought.

"Ma chéri?" A familiar voice sounds from behind me and I spin around, finishing dusting my hands. I had planned to wait on my own practice until Dumbo was trained, but they insisted that Milly and Joe could handle Dumbo with Colette, and I could use the corner as long as my heart desired. And boy did it desire. I notice Colette's eyes flicker down my body, clad in a traditional aerialist's practicing leotard, and it makes my stomach tighten slightly, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. But her gaze returns just as fast to my own, and she smiles, asking "Are you ready?" I laugh nervously and reply "Well...about as ready as I'll ever be." The other woman nods and walks a bit closer, before muttering "Just between you and me...tu es magnifique habillé comme ça."

But as if she'd said nothing she just leans away and finishes with "I have no doubt you'll do wonderfully, no need to be nervous," as Holt and the kids come into the building. I shake myself out and shakily whisper "Y-Yup. Thanks, Colette." And with that I send one last nod towards the Farrier family and Colette, before heading over to my station. With a deep breath, I grab onto them tightly and begin the most basic routine that I remember. Within minutes I'm ten feet in the air, tangled carefully in ribbons. From the outside, it probably looks silly, but if I do this correctly then it'll be worth it. My eyes slide down to the floor, where Colette is waving a feather about, guiding Dumbo to the seesaw that sits there. I hang for a while longer, just watching them until, when Dumbo steps heavily on the raised end of the plank, Colette shoots up into the air and her hands grasp the swing bar tightly.

I let out a sharp gasp and she glances over at me, smiling teasingly before looking away again; I do the same, trying to ignore the brunette (which came as a shock to me, I didn't realize that she didn't actually have red hair, they were simply wigs. Personally, I liked her natural hair more than the fancy waves anyway) and pay attention to my own position, hanging precariously above the ground. I take a deep breath and raise myself a few feet higher before going into what I believe is called a double lock split, hissing quietly at the unfamiliar stretch in my thighs. It's been a long time since I've stretched properly, and I've lost the flexibility that I used to master. With a quiet cough, I raise my arms above my head, grabbing the silk with a white knuckle grip and pulling one leg in, hitting another few poses before going for the real big guns.

As I prepare to do the drop, I suddenly hear a scream and my eyes go wide, head snapping towards Colette, and I watch in slow motion as Dumbo smacks into her and she plummets to the net with a scream. But the sudden movement catches me off balance and I also fall. Much like Colette, I let out a high shriek, praying that I was in the correct position. And my prayers are answered, my body coming to a standstill upside down, my head about a foot above the ground. My chest is heaving and my body is buzzing with adrenaline, but I shakily raise myself up again to a circus seat. That's when I realize everyone's attention is on me, and I give them a shaken up smile, waving casually. "That was so cool," Joe finally whispers, and I can't help but let out a loud laugh, the tension in my body fading instantly.

"Thank you, Joey." I say, getting as comfortable as I can in my silks. Which isn't, admittedly, very comfortable, the ribbons digging into my skin. I glance above me to where the ropes are still tightly tethered to the hooks on the ceiling, letting out a little breath before delicately twirling down and out of the ribbons. I groan when I put weight on my legs, having stretched them out a bit too much with a few of those moves and made them sore. Fingers massaging my thighs, I walk towards the group just as VA walks in, Colette coming to stand beside me. She leans over and mumbles "Are you alright petite étoile? That was quite the drop." Her voice is laced with concern, though her expression stays neutral, and I whisper back "I'm fine, I've done that trick before. I'm just glad I had rigged myself correctly or that could have been bad." and chuckle quietly.

The woman nods and sends me a quick smile before leaning back and walking away, so as to not draw too much suspicion. I tune into the conversation that VA is having with Holt and the kids, as he tells them that the show is coming up. It's tonight?! My eyes go wide and my breath catches; there's no way any of us have practiced enough, and I quickly say "Um, Mr. Vandevere, I don't think Dumbo is quite ready for that." VA gives me a strange look and a mocking smile, replying "Oh no, Dumbo isn't set to perform tonight. His premiere is tomorrow." He pauses, allowing confusion to set in. Then what was he...?

"Yours is tonight."

Oh fuck.

"O-Oh, I don't think--" "Nonsense. I'm sure you can figure something out, you're a smart girl." I'm abruptly cut off and the conversation is ended like that when the man turns away, but I catch Colette's eyes from over his shoulder, who's brows are pulled together in confusion; apparently this is news to her as well. I zone out, falling into my head again as VA finishes gaslighting the rest and leaves. I'm only snapped out of it by hands on my arms, and look down to see Milly looking up at me with a reassuring expression, or what she thinks is reassuring; it reads confusion and worry instead, but still I give her a smile as she says "I'm sure you'll be fine Miss y/n. You've been doing this for years, you just need a few more hours of practice and I bet you'll be just as good as before!" I swallow dryly, tearing up, and lean down to pick the girl up into my arms, holding her tightly and spinning her around as I say "Of course my darling girl. Of course I can."

Milly laughs at that, and when I finally set her down she presses a quick kiss to my cheek and states "We believe in you, right guys?" and looks behind her, prompting the others to nod, Joe saying "yeah!" Holt just nods with a smile and Colette mutters "Bien sûr que nous le faisons, ma chérie." It helps to ground me, and calm me down, so I also nod and roll my shoulders back, preparing for a long day of practice. I have five hours before the show starts, which means four hours of practice and an hour to get ready to perform. I can do this, I've done this before, I remind myself. And I get to work.

Colette stays with me the entire day, as she isn't performing that night either, instead waiting until tomorrow when she'll be working with Dumbo. She acts sort of as a spotter, and making sure that I don't overwork myself. If I get injured somehow VA would kill me, probably. So even though I want to push myself as hard as I can, sometimes the brunette still gets me down on the ground, whether it be to take a break to breathe or drink some water, and I can't help but be grateful. I know that if it weren't for her I'd have worked with no breaks the whole day. Finally, an hour and a half before the show is set to start, she calls me down for the last time. I nod down at her, performing the last drop for the end of my planned performance and trying to stay as confident as I can as I get onto the ground with the help of Colette. As she takes my hand, I mumble "Thank you, Colette, really."

She just hums and nods, leading me out of the building. She doesn't let go of my hand, instead intertwining our fingers and holding it a bit tighter. It's a simple comfort, keeping me from getting distracted or thinking too hard about what's to come. We enter the area where performers are preparing to get ready and I plan to head to an empty corner that I can borrow for the time being, but instead Colette pulls me gently towards another room. I realize she's taken me to her personal dressing room when I see her name on the door, and quickly sputter "Colette, I--" She shuts me up with a look and leads me inside. Closing the door behind us, I glance around at the small but strangely cozy room. It's warm lighting contrasts with the chilly air, but it's somehow perfect.

Colette finally lets go of my hand in order to go to walk looks to be a wardrobe of some sort, looking through a bunch of fancy looking leotards and uniforms, all hers no doubt. I stay silent, awkwardly playing with my hands until she returns to me with some fabric clutched in her hands. Quietly, the woman says "Here, you can borrow this. I assume you don't have any of your own, oui?" I clear my throat and reply "Uhm, n-no, I don't. But are you sure that I can use one of yours?" Colette smiles and nods, pushing it into my hands and backing away towards the door, saying "Get dressed, I'll be back in ten," before walking out. I nod to myself and pull myself out of my practice uniform, and carefully put on the leotard that Colette gave me. While not a traditional aerialist's uniform, which would have long, solid sleeves to prevent rope-burn, it fits well and has sleeves made of a thin mesh material which reach to my elbow and end with a delicate pattern.

I can't imagine when Colette would have worn this, since trapeze artists don't usually wear sleeves since they don't have need the to and it can restrict essential movement. But I just shake it off and walk over to the large vanity mirror, framed by lights that make me feel like I'm in Hollywood. I smile but it morphs into a frown when I see the state of the rest of my body. My hair is mussed and my face is flushed from hours or practice. I groan and pull my hair out of it's tie, letting it flow over my shoulders, before beginning to put it back into a simple high-pony. I don't even notice the door opening until hands are placed on my waist and my body is straightened back up. I catch sight of the older woman in the mirror behind me and my breath catches.

Her eyes linger on my form, taking in all the details of how the borrowed uniform fits, hands that are still on my waist tightening into a grip that feels almost...possessive in nature? I push the thought out of my head and try to keep my blush to a minimum when she whispers "You look lovely, chère," her voice huskier than normal and accent thick. I thank her meekly, and she lets go of me after a second, instead bringing her hands to my hair to pull it out of it's messy bun that I had settled for and beginning to work her magic. I'm glad I don't have to wear a wig, I've never liked the feeling of those. I stand still and just watch Colette's focused expression as her hands dart back and forth across the back of my head, tucking and pinning my hair into place for a good ten minutes. But I don't mind, the feeling of her nails occasionally scratching my scalp or neck and her light breathing on my skin making it worth it.

Finally, she's done. Her hands are removed carefully from my now completed hair, and she steps back, asking "You like it?" I turn my head to the side, admiring the intricately done hairstyle, before breathing "It's gorgeous," and turning to face Colette and thank her. But I overestimate how far she had stepped back because suddenly we're inches apart and I can feel her breath on my face and I'd just have to lean forward a few inches to press my lips to hers. My eyes drop down to those lips, parted slightly, before Colette thankfully steps back, giving us a few feet of space between our bodies. I thank the gods she did because if she hadn't then I'd be liable to do something stupid. Like kiss her.

Taking a shaky breath in, I thank her with a slightly cracked voice, and she nods, murmuring "Of course. Now get out there, you have ten minutes." Her tone is firm, but not cruel, and I also nod, quickly pattering out of the dressing room with Colette not far behind me, and head out to the curtain that separates us from the ring where I'll be performing. According to Holt, I'm the main attraction tonight; how I never noticed the posters plastered about this morning featuring a cartoonish rendition of me wrapped in ribbons beats me, but my nerves go on high alert and my heart starts beating faster as I see how many people are already in the stands, and they aren't even all full yet. But both Holt and Colette come to stand on either side of me, and the former whispers "You're gonna do great out there kid."

I smile, thanking him with a grateful look, and Colette agrees with a silent nod. Finally, the time comes, and VA walks up to us just before it starts to "wish me good luck", and it would be nice if it weren't for the fact that, just before I go out, he whispers "try not to mess it up, petite étoile." Him using Colette's nickname for me makes me cringe, fighting the urge to either insult or shove him, simply nodding stiffly and saying "Yup," through clenched teeth. And then the ringmaster is introducing the circus, which is my queue to get out there. I sneak about through the darkness, coming to stand in my place where I know the ribbons will be. The side performances go smoothly, giving me time to breathe and calm down.

"And now, what you've all been waiting for! Ladies and gentleman, I present to you...Y/n, our ribbon's master!" Apparently they hadn't come up with a cool name for me yet, which is fine by me, and I put on a smile as the spotlight pans over to me. With a deep breath, I raise both arms above my head, and feel two silks drop beside them, which I grab onto easily. A second later, my body is leaving the ground, the silks being raised five, ten, fifteen feet into the air before finally stopping. Back arched and toes pointed, I open my eyes and look out over the crowd and begin my act. It goes smoothly, as long as I just pretend that I'm alone, with no one but Colette watching me with her sharp gaze and comforting smile. I keep her face in my mind, focusing only on her and not on my act; I had rehearsed it so many times that day I had it memorized.

And then came the drop, the final move. I set myself up for it, wrapping myself in the ribbons properly before scanning the crowd again, where I catch sight of the other performers from Max's group, sitting in the crowd and smiling up at me. My smile widens and, with a deep breath, I let go of the silk in my hands. A collective gasp is heard from the crowd, even a few high pitched shrieks of terror, as I spiral at break neck speed toward the ground. Just before I should collide with the earth, I stop. The ribbons catch me just as they should, my arms extended and head positioned in a pose. Within moments the crowd erupts into an uproar, some standing and others just clapping excitedly as I finish, setting my feet down on the ground and giving them a showman's bow, and exiting the ring until I'm shrouded in shadows yet again.

The second I'm out of sight my entire persona falls away and leaves me panting and weak. I fall against the wall, taking great heaving breaths to try and calm my racing heart, but I can't even get my breath back before it's knocked out of me again when two small forms collide into me. It rips a laugh from my throat, knowing who they were as I wrap my arms around the twins, watching Holt and Colette, as well as some of the other performers, approach me with wide, impressed smiles on their faces. A chorus of congratulations and compliments are thrown at me, and I thank everyone with a breathy voice, appreciating their words but also wanting nothing more than to sit down. Colette must have realized this as she soon waves everyone away before walking over to me and guiding me away from the rest and back to her dressing room.

Once we enter I finally get to breathe again, shaking slightly with leftover adrenaline. My attention snaps to Colette when she says "You did wonderful tonight, chère. I'm very proud of you," and a proud smile pulls at my lips as I scratch my neck awkwardly, thanking her with a timid voice. She also smiles before asking if I need help with anything, and I nod and ask if she could help with my hair. She does so, motioning for me to sit down at the vanity again before beginning to undo all of her hard work. It stayed in place the entire time, proving just how well done it was. Once she finishes, a small pile of pins on the table now the only proof it was ever there, she walks out to allow me time to change.

I sleep very well that night.

The next day passes in a blur of training Dumbo and Colette, and before I know it the show is almost ready to start. Colette, in a stunning golden leotard with a matching headpiece and typical red wig, stands where I stood the night before, glancing outside before walking over to us and Dumbo. She crosses her fingers and says something I can't understand from where I'm at, then looks at me and smiles. It's nervous, a look that I'm not used to seeing on her, so I smile too and walk forward, catching her hands in mine and mumbling "Good luck, mon cœur." The endearment makes her blink a few times, but I don't give her a chance to say a word about it before I'm pushing her gently away. Her eyes stay locked with mine for a moment longer, brows furrowing slightly before the corner of her lips twitch for just a split second. And then she's gone, walking to her position in the darkness.

I watch with rapt attention as Dumbo is also led to the platform, which begins raising as the ringmaster announces him and the spotlight moves to him. He's scared, I can tell from here, but Milly whispers "You can do it Dumbo," and almost as if he can hear her the small elephant looks as if he's steeling himself. It makes me smile in amusement, but soon my attention is pulled to the other performer in this ordeal. "And the one who can ride him...the Queen of the Heavens!' It's a fitting title for Colette, I think, and I stare unabashedly as she strikes her pose slowly before the chandelier-esque device she holds onto is raised. She circles the ring and it approaches the platform which Dumbo is on. She steps onto it with elegance, somehow making everything she does look graceful, but as I look around for a moment I realize something's wrong, very wrong.

I don't know what it is until I finally look down; the nets. They haven't put the nets up. My eyes widen and Holt seems to make the realization at the same time as I, for he quickly runs out and shouts "What the hell are you doing, get the nets out there!" to the people in charge of them. I walk forward quickly, just in time to catch "Change of plans, from above." They're not going to put the nets out, I realize. Nothing Holt says makes them move an inch and eventually he exclaims "Colette! Don't!" The woman is already looking down at us, and I can see the confused, thinly veiled terror glinting in her eyes as they catch mine, just as worried. But my voice is gone and my legs are frozen, unable to yell or do anything. And my heart clenches in fear as Colette seems to collect herself, mounting Dumbo's back and holding out the feather to him.

But he isn't taking it. Dumbo just stares at it, not even taking a step forward for a long moment, as if he knows that something is wrong and refuses to go. I see Colette's lips moving as she says something to him, and finally he takes the feather. It's gonna be okay, I think, maybe this will go fine. Colette says her little thing and claps her hands once, allowing some chalk dust to hit Dumbo's trunk. He looks like he's about to sneeze, but instead of sucking in the feather like he normally would, he simply lets out a little huff of air and the feather floats away. I let out a little noise, eyes trained on the two performers like a hawk. Okay, definitely not going to be fine.

But Dumbo gets his shit together and reaches his trunk out for the feather, and I think that he's about to get it when suddenly he lurches to try and reach it, and time seems to slow. I watch in dread as Colette pitches forward and off of Dumbo's back with a screech. She hangs precariously from the fabric that was being used as a saddle on Dumbo's back, now ripping as Dumbo tries to pull her back up. But he can't, and the fabric rips completely, sending Colette plummeting towards the ground. All the air leaves my lungs and at once I spring into action, bolting forward, and scream "Colette!" I don't even realize that Holt's thrown a rope towards her, but she does and grabs at it, sliding down and luckily slowing her fall. Just before she can hit the ground I skid to a halt and wrap my arms around her tightly, nearly falling over myself in the process.

I feel her body shaking with what I can only assume to be fear as she nearly hyperventilates, arms automatically curling around my neck. I look at her and start to ask "Colette, are you alright?" before she breathes "Oh, petite étoile..." and presses her lips to mine, clasping my face between her hands and holding me against her. I let out a little noise but can't even kiss back before she's pulled away at the sound of Dumbo's distressed cries. We both look up at him in worry, and I see that he's hanging halfway off his platform, trying to climb back up but only slipping further off.

And then he falls and I nearly scream, tightening my arms around Colette's waist in panic, but, just inches from the hard ground, Dumbo flies. His ears catch him and he soars over our heads and begins circling the ring. I let out a relieved breath and sag against Colette, who does nearly the same. We watch as the little elephant soars around, three, four, five times as the crowd cheers wildly, but instead of landing he suddenly turns and speeds out of the tent doors. We hear the faint sound of glass breaking as he presumably leaves the building entirely. I glance warily at Colette, then to the door. I'm unwilling to let her go after what happened but I force myself to give her some space, releasing her and following the kids outside, where we just catch sight of Dumbo disappearing behind the Ferris Wheel. He's heading somewhere, I just don't know where, but I can't do anything except go back inside and awkwardly retreat behind the curtains as Millie and Joe run off after him.

I'm still shaking a little bit when I return to the now empty ring, cleared of everyone except the performers who mingle anxiously among themselves. I don't see Colette anywhere, but clench my fists at my sides and walk stiffly over to the rest, making sure everyone's okay; these people may not be part of my team, but they're just as much my family as anyone. When I'm sure that everyone's just shaken up from the events of the show, I finally sneak off to try and find the one person who should be the most shaken. When I finally do find her, she's in her dressing room; I knock on the slightly cracked door, hearing a muffled, weak "I'm busy." I sigh and state "Colette, it's me." There's a too-long moment of silence before she thankfully replies "Come in then." and creep carefully into the room.

I close the door slowly behind me, looking over and finally seeing Colette. She's sitting in the chair by the vanity, elbows on the wood and head in her hands as she tries badly to hide her tears. Walking forward slowly, I keep my voice low so as to not startle her when I say "Do you wanna talk about it?" She doesn't reply, so I just crouch down next to her and place my cheek on her thigh, looking up at her face that's crumpled with anxiety, eyes squeezed shut and tear tracks painting her cheeks. We stay like that for a while, until Colette whispers "I don't know what he was thinking. Why would he have done that to me? To everyone?" I figure she's talking about VA and the nets, so I respond "Because he's a selfish asshole who just uses people for his own gain and doesn't care who gets hurt in the process."

I don't bother to hide my contempt and strong disdain for the man from Colette, which she seems to appreciate as she lets out a tiny, single note laugh. "I'm sorry for what I did, by the way. After you--after you caught me." The woman murmurs, but I just smile, though she can't see it with her eyes still closed, and reach up to brush any residual tears from her pale cheeks. Under my breath, I say "If I was upset I wouldn't have come to see you." Finally Colette's eyes open partly, locking with mine immediately. They search my eyes, then my face, for something, before one of her hands comes to gently rest on my head and drag her fingers through my hair, which drapes over her knee like a waterfall. Her nails scratch my scalp slightly and my eyes flutter, lashes tickling my cheeks slightly.

"Ma petite étoile." Colette breathes, just like she had hours earlier, and I open my eyes fully again, smiling gently and murmuring "Mon cœur." Colette's gaze leaves mine, moving lower on my face, before she dips down towards me. Her lips hover millimeters above mine, hesitating; our shallow breaths mingle together between us for a second and I mutter "Do it." And finally, she closes the distance to firmly presses our lips together. I let out a little breath of air through my nose, turning my head slightly and pressing back. Colette's hand, which was in my hair, drifts towards my face, cupping my cheek protectively, and when I'm able to sit up so she isn't forced to bend down so far the hand that grips my waist once again feels possessive. I don't mind, leaning a little further into the woman's body and allowing her to pull me into her lap.

I settle my hands on her shoulders, and lose myself in the kiss for a while longer until we're forced apart by the need for air. My eyes open at the same time as Colette's, but I break eye contact first as I rest my face in the crook of her neck, pressing a little kiss there before sighing and muttering "I'm sorry you had to go through that. I swear to god, the second I see that man I'm gonna punch him in the face." It makes Colette laugh breathlessly, snaking her arms around my waist and holding me a little tighter as she replies "I don't think that's the best idea, chère. But I appreciate the...eh, dedication?" Though Colette's English is practically perfect, I've noticed she still struggles slightly on some words, saying them with less conviction as she feels them out. I smile against her skin and say "That's a good word for it. Good job. Sentiment works, too."

Colette nods and gives me a quiet thank you, which I just hum to in response. We stay in this position for a while, stealing the occasional kiss every few minutes before separating and just enjoying each other's presence. We only separate completely when a knock is heard against the door, and I yelp quietly and skitter off of the woman's lap. She smirks teasingly, but also stands and straightens herself out, running a hand through her dark hair and messing up her bangs slightly in the process. It makes me giggle into my hand as she walks to the door, opening it a crack to speak to whoever it may be that's on the other side, mumbling quick and quiet words to them before finally leaning back and closing the door.

When she turns to face me again, I say "Well, I should probably be getting back before someone comes looking for me." Yet Colette simply smirks again, walking towards me slowly, like a predator stalking prey, and purrs "Oh they already are. That was Mr. Farrier asking if I knew where you'd gone off to." The tone of her voice makes my breath catch and then speed up, heart racing. Unconsciously I back up, but Colette doesn't stop her approach, still advancing on me with slow and deliberate steps. "They won't be asking here again. Which means that I have you all to myself." Trying to play her game, I mumble "Oh? And what might you have in mind?" Another smirk. Before I know it, I'm cornered against her vanity, and her arms cage me in place as she leans closer to my ear.

"Oh chérie, you won't believe how many things I want to do to you tonight."

#the gif is not mine btw #colette marchant #colette marchant x reader #dumbo #eva green #eva green x reader #fanfiction #romance #implied smut #x reader #fem!reader #lesbian #lgbtq #wlw #tripping on skies and sipping waterfalls

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lomoladbroker94 · 3 years

Text

To Vavandeveresfan

@vavandeveresfan

Mini-Fic Reply To An Ask.

@arianatheangelworld, thank you for sending an Ask that gave me something to do while I can’t walk!

The Ask function won’t allow me to post this 6-page, 1500 word reply, so I have to do it here. Sorry this isn’t polished, I just kinda coughed it up right now, this is the first draft, and I’m going to leave it at that.. It’s not part of Baby, Mine, but it takes place just after Chapter 6, sort of. Things don’t progress too far with VA and Milly because, well, I gotta save that for my fanfic! ;-)

Somewhat inspired by actual events, like falling down in the bathroom.

*~*~*~* *~*~*~* *~*~*~* *~*~*~* *~*~*~* *~*~*~* *~*~*~* *~*~*~* *~*~*~* *~*~*~*

“He refuses to see anyone else.” Sotheby’s voice was dry, with an edge. Milly had the impression he’d been called out of bed earlier than he’d have liked, and wasn’t keen on having to come to the Colosseum before breakfast.

“Why Milly?” Holt said it as an aside, hiding his irritation by fiddling with the straps of his saddle on the new stallion for the new act. Circus folk began work before daybreak; he had no patience with those who didn’t.

“He’s of the opinion that ‘his little scientist’–” Vandevere’s personal assistant lifted his hand to Holt’s frown – “his words, not mine – is the best judge for the situation.”

“Which is?” asked Milly, trying to conceal her eagerness.

“You’ll discover, soon enough. If you’ll follow me…” Sotheby stopped, noticing a small parade of the girl’s father, brother, and Miss Marchant trailing behind him. “He only wishes to see Miss Farrier.”

“And that’s fine,” said Holt, “I just want to know where my daughter’s going to be.”

“Dad, I’m eighteen, for heaven’s sake.”

“Just barely.”

“Is it the Tower? I want to see the Tower again!” cried Joe.

Colette gave the butler a look that she was coming along to deal with the extra Farriers. Sotheby’s lips tightened and he led them all off.

Skellig rarely showed annoyance, but the most minute of lines formed between where his eyebrows would have been as the group stepped from the elevator into his boss’ office. He always sized up a situation before reacting, so he smoothly stepped away from the secret door to the Emperor of Entertainment’s private rooms, and hoped the unwanted extras wouldn’t notice it was open just a sliver.

Holt looked around as Joe ran to look out the great window. “Vandevere’s not here.”

“No, he’s in a conference room.” Sotheby lied as smoothly and unobtrusively as a cold mountain brook passing over stones.

“It’s a regular rabbit warren up here,” Holt muttered. “Fella could get lost.”

Milly alone noticed the tiny crack in the wall to the left of the desk and Skellig. So..he’s in there. I guess I will see it, at last. She quickly put her attention on the door to the short hallway that led to Sotheby’s office, pretending the conference room was that way, when it was actually one floor below. “Joe, don’t touch anything!”

Joe was behind the wet bar, examining the huge, circular brass clock that indicated times in Dreamland and Los Angeles. With a hushed voice he said, “Dad, there’s alcohol back here.”

“Step away, please.” A please from Skellig was never a courtesy. It was a warning.

“Joe, you know better than to snoop in people’s things.” Holt eyed the tycoon’s enforcer as his son came to his side. He chuckled darkly. “Just another lesson how some people can have things that’d put another person in jail.”

“Dad, so now you know where I’ll be. OK?” said Milly. “I think I should probably find out what he wants to know.”

“Be honest,” said Colette to Holt with a wink, who’d only come along knowing she’d need to lighten a mood at some point, “you only came with the hope he would offer you a morning shot, oui?”

“I don’t drink,” Holt snapped, reddening.

“Only because of Prohibition,” said Joe. “You used to drink, what was it, Dad?”

“Joe, hush.”

“That stuff your uncles made in the hills back in Kentucky? What’d they call it?”

“We’ll see you later, sugarplum.” With Colette’s assistance Holt herded Joe back into the elevator. “Don’t take too long! We got rehearsal!”

When the elevator closed Sotheby sighed, then gestured to the secret door. Milly thanked him and went in.

Skellig closed it after her.

The room was, as she expected, magnificent. The rounded ceiling was high. The huge round window let in light to a round room. The outer part had a desk, a bar, a few bookcases stuffed with leather-bound books, paintings, sculptures and objet d’art on shelves, with stained glass wall scones. At the far left was a short hall that appeared to lead to two rooms.

The central part of the room was sunken, two-steps lower, to a large bed with a short, two-shelved bookcase headboard and small bed tables on either side. A goose-neck lamp sat on the top of the headboard and hung over the bed’s right side. The sheets and blanket were taut, perfectly flat and tucked under the thick mattress with an expert touch, with four pillows against the bookcase.

This was the bed he meant when we almost came in here, Milly thought, catching a breath.

“Over here.” He voice was raw and brusque.

“Here where?” Milly walked around the lower-level bed area.

V.A. Vandevere was flat on his back on the floor in front of the entrance way to what Milly could now see went to a luxurious bathroom and, on the other side of the short hall, a walk-in dressing room. His silver silk robe was tied closed over what Milly could tell were BVDs. One white slipper was on his right foot, but the left lay upside-down several feet away.

His hands were clasped on top of his stomach and he glared at the ceiling with a scowl that could melt lacquer.

Milly bit her upper lip, but that didn’t prevent the corners of her mouth from disobediently twitching upward.

“Good morning,” she said, looking directly down at him.

His flaming blue eyes avoided her. “Said without sarcasm. Amazing.”

“I guess this wasn’t intentional?”

“Ah, there it is. Brava for restraining it that long. Use your powers of reason to deduce how this came about, my dear.”

“Well….The floor’s well waxed, and your slippers don’t have much texture for traction on the bottom, so, you stepped out of the shower, dripped on the floor, stepped in the water, and slipped.”

“Look again.”

“Oh.” Unable to resist, the girl slowly knelt down and brushed the hair from the man’s eyes. “Your hair’s dry. You were on your way to the shower.”

V.A. quickly grabbed her wrist before her hand pulled away. She didn’t resist as he finally looked at her. “Close. But why did I slip?” He softly kissed the back of her hand.

“Oh.” Milly looked around, nostrils opening as she breathed deeper. “There’s no rug you could have tripped over….”

“I didn’t trip.” He kissed her palm. “Look for evidence.”

Reluctantly, but needing some distance because things were moving too fast, Milly pulled free and moved down to look at his legs. “Your left ankle’s swollen!” Softly, she placed her fingers on his foot. She’d never seen such perfectly shaped and clean toenails on a man or boy, ever. She heard his breath catch. From pain, or something else? “This is an fresh bruise, but not from this morning. How’d you get it?”

“A charity function last night. Perhaps there was gossip?”

Of course he knows. “Just something about a lot of film stars from Los Angeles came to town. It was for the Widows and Orphans Fund?”

“Mm.” Reaching down, he only just manage to touch her back as she squatted beside him. He stroked her. “That asshole –uh –”

“Don’t worry, I’m not some delicate blossom. Circus child, remember?”

“Yes, yes. That asshole Douglas Fairbanks was, as usual, stewed to the gills. He took offense at my dancing with Mary Pickford, who he’s keen on, and tried to push me. I side-stepped and threw him into the pool, but not until after the drunken sod stomped on my ankle trying to get between myself and Pickford. Tore one of my best spats, as well.” He snarled. “Christ, I hate actors.”

“Didn’t you take care of your injury last night?”

“It was nothing! Just a tad sore. It didn’t start to ache until very early this morning, and… Well, when I got up it’s as you see now. I can’t put any weight on it. I tried, and…”

Milly snorted, recalling Colette’s remarks about V.A.’s vanity and stubbornness. “Of course you didn’t call a doctor.”

“What do you mean, of course?”

“Because a doctor might let slip that you were found on the floor.”

“Not any doctor who worked for me and wanted to keep his reputation and his clientele.”

Milly applied pressure, feeling around.

“AA! What in god’s name are you doing?”

“Checking to see if you broke a bone! You really need to see a doctor, you might have ripped a tendon.”

“Not now! OW!”

Taking three pillows from the bed, Milly came over to the prone man. “Lift your head.”

“Lift it for me,” he whined.

She bent over, sliding her hand under his head. His hand reached for her face. Milly deftly dodged it, grinning slyly back at him as he settled for rubbing her back. She carefully raised his left leg.

“AA!”

“Sorry,” she said, as she scooted the two pillows under his ankle.

“Jesus fuck!” he yelped, sitting up partially.

“it’s all swollen.” Milly got up and crossed to the bar. “Do you have cold water?”

Truly feeling the pain, V.A. grimaced and lay back down. “I have ice.”

“Really?”

VA waved. Milly saw a standing white box. “An electric refrigerator!” She hurried to it and opened the top door. Cold air wafted out. “With ice! Ive read about these!”

“Only the best in Dreamland,” he groaned, sarcastically.

Milly took a linen towel from the wet bar, wrapped several ice cubes in it, threw another towel over her shoulder, and knelt next to Vandevere. Wincing in sympathy, she warned, “It needs compression. This is going to hurt.”

“Go ahead,” Vandevere muttered grimly. “You love torturing me. Enjoy yourself.”

Milly applied the ice pack to the swelling. The shriek the man let out surprised her. She quickly wrapped the second towel around the pack to hold it in place.

“I’m surprised Skellig didn’t come in after hearing that,” said the girl, pressing the pack on his ankle.

Vandevere covered his face with his right hand while his left gripped Milly’s back. “This room’s sound proof,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “You could murder me and he wouldn’t hear it.”

“Don’t tempt me.” Realizing she was leaning into his hand, Milly took it and put it on his chest. “The only reason you didn’t call the doctor is because you wanted an excuse for me to come. Isn’t it?”

“Do I need an excuse?” He gazed up at her sadly. “Why do you insist on pulling away?”

There was a loud rap on the door.

Milly looked at him miserably. “Stop it. Just…stop. We can’t. Ever.” She hurried to the door and opened it.

Sotheby stepped in quickly. “He has a meeting in half an hour.”

“I can hear you,” snarled V.A.

“It’s with the Board of Directors.”

“I know.”

“You might want to be dressed in your characteristic flair and charisma. Or shall I escort them in here and set up a circle of chairs around you?”

“Who isn’t being sarcastic with me this morning? Show me one person. I’ll be ready! Put them in the A1 room. And ply them with drinks.”

“Sir, it’s seven A.M.”

“So?”

Sotheyby sighed. “Thy will be done.” To Milly he whispered, “Can you get him together in twenty minutes?”

“Unless I have to punch him in the nose, yes.”

“Miss Farrier!” Smirking, the personal assistant said, “If it comes to that, call me so I can watch.”

“I’ll need a hand getting him upright. I’m not quite tall enough.”

“I know just the thing.”

Sotheby and Skellig swapped places.

As if dealing with a dog capable to biting, Milly said, “Sir, if you could help support him to the bathroom, I’ll bring a chair.”

“What?” Vandevere lifted his head off the pillow, all the better to glare at the two. “I do not need any help! I’m not a cripple!”

“Time is short, boss.” Effortlessly, Skellig swept his arm under the other man and lifted him upright. He paused while his employer loosened a barrage of expletives as he ankle bumped into Skellig’s elephant-hide boot. Half-melted ice cubes slipped across the floor.

Milly gathered the ice, dumped it in the bathroom sink, and placed a swivel chair in front of it. V.A. sat in it with a growl. “I think Mr. Skellig and Mr. Sotheby can take it from here.”

Skellig stared at her. It made Milly freeze in place, until she finally realized that it was very unlikely he’d ever heard the term “Mr.” before his surname.

“Sotheby’s purview, not mine,” said Skellig. He walked away with long strides.

V.A. glared at his reflection, his hair standing up in all directions, his chin covered with stubble, his teeth unbrushed. “So now you’ve seen me at my worst.”

“Not your worst. Just…a man.”

His arm grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to him. He grinned hungrily, wickedly, up at her. “You could have lathered up my face and shaved me. Hmm?” He swiveled toward her and parted his legs so she stood between them. Her hands pressed against his shoulders in feeble protest. “Think of how wonderful the shaving cream would have felt between your perfect fingers, going everywhere.”

Slowly, Milly traced her forefinger along his jawline. “Your chin hair’s brown.”

“Mmm.” V.A. pulled until she knelt on the chair between his knees. His hands stroked her hips. “Would you like me in a beard?”

“Ugh. No.” Losing herself, Milly’s finger gently played over his parted lips. “It’d hide this.” She sighed longingly as he hands moved to her buttocks.

“Ah hem.” Sotheby intentionally closed the door loudly. “I’ll take it from there, Miss Farrier.”

“I rather hope not,” V.A. whispered, giving Milly’s ass a good clench. She covered her laugh with her hand and caressed his stubbled cheek.

Milly squeezed his shoulders, hard, to imprint the memory of their strength and width and how very much she wanted to tear off his robe and kiss them. V.A. caught and squeezed her hand, and she returned the pressure before morosely turning away.

“I don’t believe in never, Miss Farrier,” Vandevere called after her. “Dreamland wouldn’t exist if I did!”

“Ill see you later,” Milly promised, sincerely.

THE END.

VA Vandevere

Milly Farrier

Villy

Holt Farrier

Colette Marchant

Michael Keaton

Nico Parker

Colin Farrell

Eva Green

Neils Skellig

Sotheby

Dumbo 2019

Dumbo live action

fanfic

fanfiction

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