What is this writing you speak of?

For @kyuko-chan. I hope I managed to at least fit your prompt a little.

HSAU

”And you remember what you’re supposed to do?”

With an eyeroll, Razz glared down at her mother. Although Mrs Valkyria was slightly shorter than her, she met her gaze without an ounce of hesitance, and her strict expression – the pursed lips, the light frown – didn’t as much as twitch. Her mother’s honey-blonde hair was in an elegant braided bun on top of her head, a style as old as their country.

Mrs Valkyria stared at her until she nodded shortly, resisting the urge to take a step backwards. “Smile. Don’t say shit.”

Giving her a smile, Mrs Valkyria stroked her cheek, and Razz flinched away. Who did she think she was, what gave her the right to be affectionate after just telling her she wasn’t fit to even speak in polite society anymore? That she didn’t behave like a Valkyria should.

So she simply shouldn’t speak.

“Good, darling.” A look of displeasure washed over her face. “And if you absolutely have to bring that boyfriend of yours, or your friends, make sure they follow the same rule, or I will not hesitate to throw them out. I doubt they know how to behave in polite society.”

The implications were all there. Because Blue was middle class and of common blood, and Fell and Red were immigrants, they shouldn’t be allowed among the cream of society – the noble, the politicians, the blue-blooded like them.

Clenching her fists, Razz resisted the urge to spit out the words on her tongue: how her friends were better people than Mr and Mrs Valkyria, despite their royal ancestry, would ever be. And it wasn’t like they were even royalty anymore anyway. The monarchy had been abolished. The only reason their dynasty even was left was because her great grandfather been too cowardly to die standing and instead had signed all the letters of abdication. No one had any right to the throne anymore.

Mrs Valkyria stared her down before nodding. “Go get changed then, darling. The guests will start arriving in three hours.”

With a last glare at her mother, Razz twisted around and ran upstairs, her boots thundering against the marble staircases of the old manor. She threw the door to her room open, and Blue jumped in alarm where she was sitting on her pink and white bed covers.

Unbeknownst to her parents, her friends had already arrived a good while before. Fell, who was lounging in the armchair in the corner of the bedroom, looked up, frowning. “You okay?”

Slamming the door closed behind her, Razz shook her head, dropping down on the bed. “No. Fuck. I hate them.” She put her arms over her face, turning everything dark. “You know what she said? You’re unfit to even speak. Just stand around looking pretty. I hate them.” The parents that had spent most of her and her brother’s childhood away, leaving them to be raised by staff. The parents who still thought they had any fucking right to tell them what to do and how to do it. “Can you even believe her nerve?!”

Blue ran her fingers through Razz’s ash-blonde hair, her own black, coiled locks falling in her face as she leaned forward, those and her dark skin a stark contrast to her ice-blue eyes. “I’m so sorry. You deserve better.”

“I know. I do.” It was soothing, Blue’s fingers in her hair. Sighing, Razz dropped her arms and stared up at the ceiling before turning her gaze to Fell.

Just like Blue, Fell had black hair, though hers was straight. Her dark brown eyes shone with hidden anger. “I still think you should just leave,” she said.

Razz let out a sardonic laugh. “Like they’d let me. I’m still a minor. They’d just send the Police to get me back.” She sat up. “Better just get ready. Get pretty.”

Sure, she enjoyed being beautiful, most of the time. She enjoyed seeing people in awe over her elegance, even when she was wearing combat boots and ripped jeans. But right now, she was so tired of it. It wasn’t fun anymore. It hadn’t been ever since her parents came home, ever since they started demanding nothing less than perfection.

Her friends followed her over to the two white doors leading into her walk-in closet. The closet was a room all for itself, a utility room rebuilt for this purpose. There was no way she’d fit everything otherwise. She did have a wardrobe on the other side of the room in which she kept her most commonly used items, but she also had to have somewhere to store the fashion her parents threw on her constantly. Like the ball-gowns.

There was a whole rack filled with gowns in their bags, protecting them from dust and any mice that might get in here. In a house as old as this, they were unavoidable. With a practiced hand, she ran her fingers over the bags until she found a dress fit for a dinner party like the one tonight. A sleeve-less midnight-blue gown with a high neck. A small rebellion no one but her mother would pick up on. Midnight-blue was the mourning colour, but the past hundred years or so it had become much more acceptable to wear it to every-day business.

Which was great, because her parents still kept to the belief it was only a colour to be worn when someone had died.

She pulled it out, before gesturing for her friends to follow her to the other side of the closet. “And here’s your clothes.”

A sleek, wine-red long-sleeved dress with black details for Fell and an orchid-pink suit for Blue.

“Ooooh.” Blue grabbed her suit, holding it up. It would fit her perfectly, of course. Razz had had it tailored specifically for her. “It turned out amazing.” Excitement glittered in her eyes as she turned to Razz. “Sometimes I love that you’re rich.”

A surprised laugh escaped Razz, and despite her anger she couldn’t help but smile at her friend. Great Mother, Blue always could cheer her up. It was difficult not to be enchanted with the way she radiated positive energy.

Fell took her own dress, smiling to herself. She wouldn’t ever admit it, of course, but Razz knew she appreciated it. It was the expensive kind of dress that her family couldn’t have bought themselves, so Razz was happy to do it for her. Both because she loved her friends and wanted to make them happy, and because her parents undoubtedly hated that she spent family money on them.

“Will you do my hair?” she asked her instead. Of course she could do it herself, but she enjoyed the feeling of them doing it for her. It was soothing in the best of ways.

“Obviously,” Fell replied, and she grinned.

At least right here, it felt alright. She left the closet behind and sat down into the armchair, Fell coming up after her and putting both their dresses on the bed. Then she grabbed a hairbrush and gently pulled it through Razz’s hair, and Razz sighed in relief as she dropped her head back.

“Sometimes I get so tired of being pretty,” she mumbled. “I know it’s my own fault for doing everything my parents hate, but I’m so sick of that being my only good quality.”

“Bullshit,” Blue said, grabbing her hand. “You’ve got so many good qualities. That you’re beautiful isn’t even in the top fifty.” She quieted. “But I know what you mean. Even though I’m the school’s football star, I know people expect that I’ll be nice to look at. It makes me very self-conscious when I’m not. Even though it’s directly after practice.”

“Yeah.” Fell had been quiet until now, but she nodded. “It’s suffocating, sometimes. My mum would kill me – and Red, of course – if we left the apartment with messy hair, even if we’re just going down the street to buy some flour to make bread.” She put the brush aside, grabbing some hairpins and ties, and started braiding.

Blue grinned, hesitance and determination mixing in her eyes. “You know what. Fuck everyone. On Monday, I think we all just go to school without giving a damn. All three of us. What’re they gonna do?”

After a moment of silence as she considered what that’d mean – going to school, going into public, after only doing hygiene and no beauty, with all its staring, judgemental people around – Razz chuckled quietly, a smirk on her face. “Oh, mother is gonna hate that. Let’s do it.”

As she pulled at Razz’s hair, Fell’s mouth curled into a grin. “Why the fuck not. I’ll take a page out of my brother’s book, then. Let’s not give a fuck.”

“So we’re doing it?” Blue asked, and when they nodded, she grinned as well. “Let’s give everyone a shock.”

Razz laughed. “Yeah. Yeah that’ll be fun. After tonight. I’m still definitely not showing up as anything less than perfect before the less than perfect before the mayor.”

“Fair, fair.” Blue hummed, hopping over to the other side of the armchair to sit next to Fell. “But then?”

“Definitely. Perfection is boring anyway.”

“Otherwise you wouldn’t be dating my brother,” Fell added dryly, and Razz turned around in the armchair, flicking her finger against her arm.

“Hey, that’s my boyfriend!” she protested, trying to hide her smile.

“I know. You have very questionable taste.”

Lounging in the armchair in Red’s room, a black leather one that had been stained already when her boyfriend bought it in a thrift store, Razz filed her nails into sharp points. Not for any particular reason, other than that it seemed fun to have claws.

A strand of ash-blonde hair tickled her cheek and she blew out of her face as she looked over to the bed where Red sat.

Red, with his raven-black hair and dark skin, his eyes the colour of the earth and his square jaw, sat on the black and green duvet, an old acoustic guitar in his arms. As he snapped on the strings, he brought out a soft melody for the world to hear – or rather, for Razz only.

With a content sigh, Razz leaned back in the armchair. His rough, deep voice made the song he was singing nothing less than gorgeous.

“Morning in Paris, the city awakes, to the bells of Notre Dame. The fisherman fishes, the bakerman bakes, to the bells of Notre Dame…”

She cracked an eye open, watching him. Good Mother, he was so good at this. And so pretty when he sang, his face a picture of graceful focus. Graceful really wasn’t the word anyone would use to describe him most of the time, but when he created music, it was just right.

“…to the big bells as loud as the thunder, to the little bells soft as a psalm. And some says the soul of the city’s, the toll of the bells. The bells of Notre Dame.”

“What are did you sing?” she asked after, smiling. Her eyes were still closed, and her mind calm, peaceful. It wasn’t often she felt this… happy. Just happy. And calm. There were few people she trusted enough for that: her brother, their butler, her best friends – Fell and Blue. And now Red. Her boyfriend.

Razz almost giggled at the thought. Fuck she loved him. Plus, her parents hated that she dated a poor person, which was something of the icing on the cake.

Raising an eyebrow at her, Red smirked. “The bells of Notre Dame, darling. From The Hunchback of Notre Dame.”

“The book?” Razz cocked her head. “Books don’t have songs.”

“The Disney-movie. Obviously.” He snorted. “I can probably sing the lyrics to any Disney-song you can name.”

She just stared at him, frowning. “What the fuck is a Disney?”

The way Red’s eyes widened was comical, but the offence on his face confused her, leaving her wondering if she’d said anything wrong. But she couldn’t imagine what that possibly could’ve been, so she wasn’t going to apologize. So she just shrugged.

After a couple seconds of stunned silence, Red put his guitar aside and stood up. Razz watched in suspicion as he made his way over to her. A yelp escaped her as he hoisted her into his arms, bridal style. Throwing her arms around his neck, she glared.

Before she could think to protest, though, he put a hand over her mouth. “Buckle the fuck up and prepare for a long-ass marathon while we cuddle, you ignorant little shit.”

She let out a squeal as he carried her into he living room before unceremoniously dropping her on the dark-green couch. “Hey!” she protested as the cushions bounced beneath her. “Rude.”

Grinning, Red leaned down to kiss her forehead. “When have I ever been known for my manners?”

Good point. Razz grudgingly had to accept that. Her boyfriend was an asshole… and so was she. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I know I am. Now sit. Still,” he ordered. “I’m going to get the movies.”

Oh, movies. So that was what this was all about.

“It’s just the afternoon!”

“Sure. But we’ve got many movies to watch.”

He disappeared out the door and back into his room before coming back with his arms filled to the width with DVDs. As he opened his arms, they tumbled down into the grey armchair next to the couch. Razz gaped. She hadn’t seen that many DVDs since she was a kid. And never so colourful. Her parents were all about tastefulness and elegance, and so their children’s movies had been through extreme vetting before they’d been allowed to watch them. Nothing that would encourage anything less than perfection.

It always made her bitter to think of so she usually didn’t.

Red held up one of them, smiling widely. She recognized the Notre Dame in the background.

“Hunchback of Notre Dame?” she guessed.

“Ten points to Razz,” Red drawled, but his eyes glittered. “My favourite, so let’s start with that.”

He put it into the DVD-player before flopping down on the couch, pulling her into his arms.

Slightly disgruntled at being dragged around like a toy, she settled into his side. “You’re so annoying.” But soft. His belly was very, very soft, and so was his skin as she took his hand in hers.

Lifting her hand to his mouth, he kissed her fingers. “You love me anyway.”

“I do,” she murmured as he turned on the tv. “Unfortunately.”

His warms chuckles made her relax into him even more, causing her to feel the vibrations of them in her own body. She sighed softly and turned to the screen, where singing had begun.

So whoops I just saw @kyuko-chan asked me 144 not 44, so since I've already answered 44, I'll do 144 instead!

Dark, milk, or white chocolate?

Who was the last person you held hands with?

Dad, just now as we were all sitting out on the terrace for dinner. My family is an affectionate bunch. There’s only one person outside of my family I’m really comfortable with more or less that level of touch and she lives a good distance away sadly enough

Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean?

Do you believe in ghosts?

To quote Edgar Allan Poe, or Germaine de Staël, or Bert Leston Taylor, or Charles A. Dana, or whoever said it,

I do not believe in ghosts, but I am awfully afraid of them.

I’ve actually seen ghosts twice. But I’ve also seen a fairy, and my dad has seen a farm gnome, so really, that doesn’t mean much. I don’t believe in ghosts, though I still am scared of graveyards in the dark. Which wasn’t too convenient back before I had my driving license and had to walk past the village church every winter night on my way home from the school bus, I gotta say. 

Then again I also live in the same home my family have lived in for about five generations (and village even longer), so I keep telling myself If ghosts existed - which they don’t - why on earth would they want to harm me? I’m not some city girl in a horror movie whose dad decided they needed a fresh start. I belong here.

It was a while since Razz smiled. In all honesty, Blue was growing worried; his counterpart had been frowning constantly for days. Even now when he’d come over to Blue’s place for movie night so they could have fun and relax. But relax, he did not. Blue frowned as he regarded the other, who paced around the livingroom. This was supposed to be fun, just the two of them watching dumb horror movies and picking them apart. And instead Razz had, just as he was beginning to look slightly less stressed, remembered that he was training the new Guard recruits on his own tomorrow.

He swore internally. Razz’s boots clicked against the wooden floor - click, click, click. Biting down on his tongue, Blue glared at the ceiling. This couldn’t be accepted. As Razz marched past the couch, muttering to himself, he grabbed his arm. 

Razz hissed, much like an angry cat, eye flaring as he twisted around. His gaze caught on Blue and his shoulders sank. “That was stupid,” he growled. “I could’ve attacked you.”

Blue raised an eyebrow. “Nah, I don’t think so.”

With a jerk, he pulled Razz into his lap, embracing him too tight for him to escape.

“Blue,” he protested, glaring at him.

Grinning, Blue kissed his forehead. “Time to calm down. You need to relax.”

The glare intensified. His eyes narrowed and his mouth turned into a thin line. “No, what I need is for everyone to stop being so fucking incompetent.”

“I can’t fix that.” Blue kissed his cheek as well, petting his arm. “But I can hold you until you have no other choice than relaxing.”

“Wha- Blue! You can’t, I’ll just break free.”

“Nope. You’d have to hurt me and you never would.”

Razz opened his mouth to protest, but nothing came out. He knew Blue was right. It shut with a clack as his teeth hit each other.

Grinning in triumph, Blue turned on the television, making sure to hold Razz tight the whole time. If he let up one second, his boyfriend might escape and he couldn’t have that. As the newest horror movie began to play, Razz grumbled and settled into his lap.

Holding in a chuckle, Blue kissed him one last time.

Razz hated that so much. Swapfell is an oligarchy with extreme class differences. It was seen as impossible for a member of the lower class to reach the position of lieutenant before Razz did it. Climbed all the way from the Hotland slums to the royal councilchamber. And he sacrificed so much for it, almost died for it more than once.

And here's Red, born into privilege (in the slightly more meritocratic Underfell), and he's spending his time telling jokes in the Hotland accent Razz had to get rid of to be taken seriously, that Red trained in because he found it funny to annoy the courtiers with that Dr Gaster's eldest spoke like gutter trash.

Yes, Razz detested him.

If you'd told him they'd end up dating, he would've kicked you in the face for ecen suggesting something so disgusting

Because Red was raised at the royal court, he can, and will, do this

 And they’re always arguing. Always fighting. Everyone in school knows they hate each other’s guts and even the students are kinda careful about mentioning the other to the one they have right now.

But then the school holds a bake-sale to raise funds for the school and Razz just shows up with a fucking tower of goods, giving them out for free to students and selling them for high prices, because they’re fancy, to everyone else. And Red who is there with his brother’s baked goods because of course he is, and it ends up being a whole competition because of course it does. 

In the end, Red demands to know why Razz did all that, he thought he hated working on their school. And Razz is like ?? No what the fuck. If he did he wouldn’t be here, he could get a job anywhere. Red ain’t the only one with a PhD, and Razz is much more driven. 

And that kinda ends up with them being just a tad more friendly with each other, and they team up to force the PTA to agree to fund free breakfast for the students, since many of them can’t eat at home. And somehow, during this mess, they start to like each other. They actually become friends. They go to the city council together to force more money to the school, and Razz still has at least a year in law and that gets very useful. 

Here’s a 1950′s AU, with very varying historical accuracy because damn I don’t know anything about history after WWII, especially not American history

Throwing the hood of the car shut, Razz grinned up at her boyfriend. She wiped her oil-stained hands off on her grey mechanic’s overalls, blowing a strand of blonde hair that had escaped her bun out of her face. Red leaned against the wall of the garage, looking very handsome in his jeans and leather jacket and with his messy black hair. Not to talk of his deep brown eyes, so dark they were almost black. They were enchanting. As the hood closed with a thump, he raised an eyebrow.

“You done, sweetheart?”

“Yep. Mr Simmons’ car is as good as new.” She laughed quietly, glancing at the clock. 4 PM. Just in time, then. “He’s going to be so mad that dad put me on fixing it.” She patted the dark-blue Ford. A beautiful thing, it was a shame its owners were as bigoted as, well, most everyone. The most everyone who’d call her a whore for wearing jeans to school, just like she did every day.

With a loud snort, Red pushed himself off the wall, coming up to her. She tipped her face upwards so he easily could kiss her. His lips were soft against hers.

He grinned as he stepped back just a bit, but not enough for their bodies not to be pressed against each other. Apparently, he didn’t care that he got oil all over his fancy jacket – and why would he? The Taneja-family were rich as hell.

“He’s gonna be furious,” he murmured, brushing the loose lock out of her face. The look on his face was positively gleeful. “It’ll be great. I’ve seen the way they look at us, and I doubt it’s only because of our amazing sense of style.”

Of course not. Obviously, Mr and Mrs Simmons didn’t approve of interracial relationships. With Red being Indian-American and her being white, plus the fact that neither of them gave a damn about traditions, people like the Simmons hated them. Sniggering, Razz pecked his lips, sliding a hand under his shirt. His belly was soft, chubby, but she could sense the muscles beneath.

“Oh, I’m sure they disapprove of our behaviour too. But all the town does, so what else is new?”

His soft laughter was infectious, and she could only join in, eventually pulling her hands back so she could grab a tissue from the bench nearby to wipe her hands off. Without looking, she threw the ball of paper into the nearby trashcan.

Her dad peeked out from behind the corner, raising an eyebrow at Red moving his shirt back in place. But he didn’t comment, he never did, for which Razz was grateful. “Are you done? Mr Simmons is here.”

“Just a minute ago.” She fished up the car keys from her pocket, grinning at him. “Shall I take it out?”

With a nod, he disappeared again.

“I’ll walk out front then,” Red said with a grin. “Can’t miss the show.”

Agreeing, Razz slid into the leather seat and started the car as he disappeared. Technically, she wasn’t old enough to drive for another year, but this was her dad’s land and even the Police knew not to interfere with the way he ran his business lest they wanted to get banned from the only garage in the town. The motor purred like a happy cat as she steered it out to the parking lot, and it was like music to her ears.

Anticipation made her jumpy as she parked it outside of the old building that was now her family’s garage. It was connected to their house, which laid on its right side: small and white, with a tiny garden. Not much, but enough for a family of three. As she re-entered the garage, Mr Simmons, in his grey suit, was just paying her dad at the counter while glaring suspiciously at Red, who lounged in the old couch by the wall, grinning back at him.

A meter behind Mr Simmons stood his daughter. Blue. Razz raised an eyebrow. She’d never seen the girl outside of school before. Blue smiled somewhat nervously at her as she saw her looking, and Razz winked back. She was certainly pretty, with her black hair in a tight bun where a single curl had escaped, and with her ice-blue eyes which stood out as an immense contrast to her incredibly dark skin. Her lips were painted a pale pink, matching her pink and blue dress.

Spinning the car-keys around her finger, she stepped past Blue and up to the counter, where she dropped them. “Your car is ready to go.”

Mr Simmons stared at her in disbelief before glaring at her dad. “I said I didn’t want a girl touching my car.”

Her dad just shrugged, a smirk quirking his mouth. “If you don’t like how I run my business, you’re welcome to go somewhere else.” One and a half hour to the next garage. “I did give you my best mechanic, Mr Simmons. Like you asked.”

As expected, Mr Simmons didn’t say anything about that. Once he’d finished paying, he turned his back to her dad without not even sparing her a glance. “Let’s go, Blue,” he ordered as he passed by his daughter.

Blue startled, and Razz grinned as she realized she’d been staring at her the whole time. She raised an eyebrow, and Blue blushed, giving her a quick wave and hurrying after her father. Well. That was a bit odd, but she wasn’t complaining. She’d never complain about the attention of a pretty girl.

“Well, that was fun,” Red said, coming over to throw an arm around her shoulders. He chuckled, kissing the top of her head. “You free now?” He looked at her dad. “Can I steal yer daughter off work, sir?”

Her dad didn’t do much more than glance at Red as he looked through the book of bookings. “Let me know if you stay overnight,” was all he said.

Razz nodded, leaning into her boyfriend’s chest. “Will do.” She glanced up at Red. “Has Mrs Taneja decided I’m an unfit match for you yet?”

“Nah. Maa has grown fond of ya, even if you refuse to act like a civilized woman.” He kissed her hair as they made their way over to the entrance to the house. She definitely needed a shower before she could go anywhere – and get changed. “Which is exactly why I love you.”

They closed the door to the garage behind them. Her eyes twinkled mischievously as she sneaked her arm around his waist before sliding her hand down to his butt, squeezing.