#adamsbeast

Fuck: “Hercules. I mean, have you seen that man? Gorgeous, quick-thinking and completely naive. I’m certain he could learn a thing or two under the right teacher, if you catch my drift.” 

Marry: “Adam. The irony would be absolutely delectable.”

The mansion in front of her was in a sorry state. The ornaments at the front were all broken and decrepit, and vines had overtaken at least half of the building. The cobblestone pathway was broken up, and the wrought-iron gate hung on rusty hinges. To any unknowing passerby, the building could have easily been deserted. At the very least it was difficult to imagine anyone living there aside from the local wildlife. It loomed overhead, isolated in the woods with no one around for a fair distance. Why, the only place more unwelcoming than that was probably her own, thorn-covered fortress,

Maleficent thought that it looked splendid.

She was no stranger to the residence before her, or its hermit-like inhabitants. Every one of them belonged to her in one way or another, whether it be through the curse on the mansion or through the foolishness of their predecessors. Celine had made a habit of ‘dropping in’, just to see how her ward of sorts was doing. However, it had been almost a fortnight since her last visit and it had come to mind that it was thoroughly overdue. 

The faerie didn’t bother to knock, pushing the doors open with one hand. They creaked and protested against the movement, but parted easily at her touch. The interior of the house was in far better condition than the rest, most likely due to the inability of its residents to leave it. Her heels clicked against the polished tiles of the floor with a resounding clack following each step. The hem of her black gown and cloak barely grazed against the floor, fluttering in her wake as though the shadows were trying to keep their hold on the woman. While it appeared as though she was alone in the foyer, she could hear the murmurings of the many servants who watcher her just out of sight. Celine smiled at them, glad to see that the way they scattered out of her way had not changed in her brief absence. 

She made her way up the spiral staircase, inspecting the lavish decor with a sense of twisted satisfaction to know that it hadn’t changed at all. Celine turned down into the hall, making her way to the salon where she was sure she would meet her quarry sulking in is well-deserved misery. Just the thought of it alone had the tips of her fingers twitching with delight. It didn’t matter where she decided to go, she was sure that he was aware of her presence with those keen senses of his. The master of the house would save her the task of searching for him regardless of what she did. All she had to do was pick their meeting place.

So, Celine glided into the salon, a dark smile playing upon her lips as she listened carefully to the door. A roaring fire was burning merrily in the hearth, and she paused to take in the picture mounted above it. Within that painting was a depiction of the noble Dubois family, who had fallen far from grace decades ago. Her eyes were focused on the rendition of the youngest member of the family, the only surviving heir to the family’s name. Vengeance was a sweet dish.