#to clarify whenever they say smth it is either written or signed. ik i put like say and tell but. yeah.

[haunted-house-heart]

think it wouldve been a fun idea for the enchanted rose in beauty and the beast to have been like. like a regular rose but just cursed. like a potted rose that he had to take care of. and like. instead of wilting as his birthday approached or whatever like. if he let it die, he would be stuck as a beast. like. frankly i think he needed a hobby. obviously trapping him in a beasts body didnt make him nicer. but i think taking care of plants is calming for a lot of people so maybe that wouldve helped instead of. just punishment without any sort of lesson or whatever. like imagine this

he's given the rose. its a sad little thing, a single, small rose in a tiny pot. if it wilts, he'll remain a beast forever, the enchantress tells him. if he wants to be human again, first he must keep it alive. and then someone must love him, truly, willing, without pressure or bribery. they must come to love him on their own. the enchantress leaves him. there are no servants trapped in the castle. he is alone, with this terrible rose in its terrible pot. he ignores it at first. he hates it, hates the sight of the thing, hates the sight of what he's become.

it starts wilting, as plants are wont to do when you neglect them. he hates it. he tends to it, because he hates himself more.

he has never cared for anything before. he's never needed to; they had gardeners for that. he doesnt know how to care for a plant. he finds a book in the library about gardening and reads it, the entire thing, with the terrible rose on the table in front of him. he tends to it as the book details. he finds other books on plants and gardening, and for awhile, that's how he spends his time. reading, tending to the rose, passing out on a table in his library.

he remembers, suddenly, violently, that he still needs to eat to live. the first few days of his lonely imprisonment pass in a odd blur, and, without servants to care for him, he forgets to eat. he doesnt know how to cook, of course, so he reads about that as well.

this is how he spends much of his time. he learns. he had always been a quick learner when he was a child, but as he'd grown older he'd... forgotten, somehow. forgotten that there were things he really enjoyed.

the rose does well under his care. it grows as the time passes, and soon enough he has to move it to a larger pot. he found several pots and various gardening tools in the greenhouse when he decided to take care of the garden in addition to the rose.

and this is how it goes. for several years. he reads, he learns, takes up new hobbies, cares for the garden, cares for his rose. he is lonely, but there isnt much to be done about that. the rose continues to grow until it stops being a single rose and starts being a rose bush, and he moves it from the pot to the ground in the garden.

time keeps moving, as time is wont to do.

there is someone in his home.

they are possibly his age, possibly pretty, certainly muddy, and definitely holding a rose. one of his roses, from his rose bush. the rose bush his curse is tied to.

he panics.

he doesnt scream, anymore, so much as he roars. they run. they fall, and he is concerned, but not enough to override his fear. he chases them out of his home. they flee into the woods. they dropped the rose in front of the fireplace. he collects it and places it in the ground at the bottom of the rose bush. he knows things can be planted this way; he hopes it works with roses.

the wolves are out. he can hear them, and it sounds like they're hunting something. something that screams, and sounds like the intruder he just scared away. his panic, which had only just begun to fade, surges back full force. they are in the woods because of him. he goes in after them.

he feels more fear than he invokes, he is sure, but he manages to fight off the wolves anyway. the intruder is unconscious, bleeding. he takes them into the home he'd chased them away from. luckily, he'd read some books about medicine and caring for wounds; he's able to treat the wounds that are visible to him.

he doesnt touch anywhere he doesnt see blood. he doesnt touch the bruises on their arms that he is sure did not come from any wolves.

he leaves them to rest, and goes to find those medical texts. it seems like a good time to refresh his mind on the subject.

they wake later, or maybe the next day. he tends to lose time when he reads.

they are frightened, of course, but they are also injured, so they cant do anything about it. he keeps his distance anyways. he doesnt know if its for their benefit or his.

he only gets close to bring them food and to check on their injuries.

they never speak. sometimes they look like they want to, but they never follow through.

he wonders about this (he wonders about everything) but he doesnt want to push them.

one day, a few days into their impromptu stay, he realizes they might not speak the same language as him. maybe they dont speak because they dont believe he'll understand. he never thought to ask.

so he does, when he comes to change their bandages. he's learned a few different languages throughout the past few years, though admittedly, he doesnt know how to speak conversationally in any of them. he only had books to learn from, not people. he figures he can try, though.

it isnt necessary, however. he asks can you understand me?

and they nod. he is baffled further. he forgets his manners and asks, bluntly, can you speak? he regrets this immediately upon hearing the words, and adds i'm sorry, that was rude its none of my business-

they shake their head. he pauses. you can't? can you write, perhaps? they nod. he nearly runs out of the room for paper and a pen.

they begin to talk, in their own ways. he speaks, they write. he asked if they would rather he wrote as well, but they didnt mind him speaking. so he does.

he talked to himself and his plants quite a bit over the years, but his intruder, his guest, is the first person he's spoken to in years.

he enjoys it. he enjoys them, enjoys the company. he learns about them.

he learns nice things: their name, their favorite book, a funny story.

he learns mundane things: how many blankets they like to sleep, that they dont like as much salt as him, the volume of their sneeze.

he learns... things he isn't happy about: why they were in the woods running for their life, the origin of those bruises on their arms, of a family and town that refused to accept them.

of a family who called them the wrong name, who believed that marriage would solve what they perceived as a problem.

of a town that let it happen, that encouraged it.

he learned these things, and felt anger, felt rage, for the first time in a long time.

(he stopped being angry about his situation a long time ago. he fell into resignation like it was a routine.)

he didnt offer them this anger. he could tell they had enough of their own. instead he offered them safety. he gave them the option to stay, for as long as they wanted, and promised to keep them safe if they wished.

(he used their name firmly when he made this offer. their real name, the one they told him, not the one that made them clench their jaw and tears well up in their eyes.)

(maybe tears did well up when he used this one, but it was for a different reason. a better reason.)

they stay. they heal, slowly, and he splits his time now between them and the rose bush. while they heal, he brings them books to read, paper to write on, food to eat. once they can leave their bed again, he gives them the grand tour.

(he makes a dramatic gesture when he says this, and they laugh at him. his heart melts.)

he shows them the entirety of the castle, saving his favorite places for the end; the kitchens, the library, the tower, and the gardens.

he thinks they might pass out when they see the library, their hand coming up over their heart like they're having a heart attack. maybe they are; it's a beautiful place. the gardens are visible from the big window, and the upper part of the window is stained glass. the room is golden at most times of the day, and it turns rainbow at sunrise.

they stay in the library for a long time before moving to the gardens. when they see the rose bush, they scratch out an apology on their paper for the rose they tried to take.

he shrugs. he doesnt explain why he reacted the way he did that night. he had talked so much already, and he finds, suddenly, that he doesnt have the energy to explain that part of his life. i forgive you, he says instead, and he means it, and they move on.

and so their lives continue, but this time together. his life expands to include them. he reads, and he tells them about the things he learns, and they do the same. he tends to the rose, to the garden, and they sit with him while he does. he finds a book on sign language, and they begin learning it together.

he doesnt think about his curse. he nearly forgets about it entirely, too wrapped up in having a friend to worry about it.

a cold night brings bad dreams for them. he is woken by their crying, and goes to them. he wakes them carefully, and they dont want to stay in their room. they dont want to fall asleep again. they sit together in the drawing room they both like best. he lights the fireplace and lays on the carpet in front of it, and they drape themself across him as gracefully as a sack of flour (which is to say they threw themself on him and stayed exactly where they landed).

he tells them about something he read, in a soft voice, because they ask him to. it is, however, the middle of the night, and he is tired. eventually his voice grows even softer and his story is broken up by yawns, and they grow tired with him. as they both doze off, they sign against his chest i love you, because they do. he says i love you too, because he does. they both fall asleep.

he is different when they wake. he comes to the startling realization that he never explained the curse to them, and has to explain first thing that morning. he explains that the curse is broken by love. i thought she meant romantic love, he tells them, so i thought it would never be broken, he gives them a soft smile.

i guess she wasnt very specific then, they say, with a smile back.

he hugs his best friend tight, and they rock him back and forth.

the rose bush keeps growing. he tends to it, and his best friend sits with him as he does. he gives them a rose from it, one that was pulled off the bush once but never wilted despite it.

they love each other. not in the way the enchantress had in mind, not in the way the town tried to force, but in a way that was just as strong and just as beautiful.

#Hi I Spent Two (2) Hours On This Instead Of Sleeping #i didnt mean to i just aldkslssks started typing and didnt stop #anyway this. has certainly been done before but. who cares tbh now ive done it too #uhh dont @ me over any typos or anything bc idc. it is five am and this has made the chronic pain in my hands act up #anyway its almost valentines day and aro week. and i am both aro and a hopeless romantic so. heres this #emery.txt #to clarify whenever they say smth it is either written or signed. ik i put like say and tell but. yeah. #also the. the town is transphobic and thought marriage would like. yknow. yknow how it goes. #neither of them have a name here bc i. i said so ok. #um. #beauty and the beast #aro week 2021 #(thats for me) #ask to tag #tw transphobia #tw abuse #tw blood mention #tw injury #srsly ask to tag i want you to be safe #this is just. stream of conciousness (sp?) but tbh im kinda proud of it #also ik it doesnt directly say either of them are aro but i am aro and i wrote them both as aro. the point wasnt about being aro anyway it #it was that we stan Friendship on this blog. we stan Platonic Love and llving your friends sm that you feel like ur heart will explode.