sadistic teddy bear

[2-beadyeyes-deactivated20251104]

love my terrible wife who wants to kill me so so  bad

[2-beadyeyes-deactivated20251104]

i come home from work every day and narrowly dodge one of her many death traps . when we eat dinner ill smile and say “poison again ?” and she will shrug mischievously but we both know it is very much poison

[hxnriolivier]

eloise.

“because you missed me so.” no calls, no texts. not that she wanted those sorts of cheesy daily affirmations, they would have been annoying, cheapened what they already knew was true. but throw a sister into the mix and what did she really know about paris. she’d seen cyrus roth’s version of a good relationship. she ignored her own. was there such thing as a middle ground.

“a toast—gee.” she folded her arms across her chest, leaning into her seat instead of standing up to greet him. no heartfelt speech for her beloved yet. she had been busy while he was gone, and it deserved roses and a party, but what did she get instead. the champagne glasses were all sharp stems and shattered edges. she should have taken apart the wine cellar all the same. “what do you have to be celebrating?” 

did she really think so little of him? or--perhaps the problem was that she thought too highly of herself. either way, his little starlet had somehow still not gotten it into her pretty little skull that he’d been making moves for her; clearing the way for her up the ladder, making sure nothing.... dragged her down those slippery rungs of stardom. he pursed his lips, giving up the hunt for a celebratory drink and turning to fall into a leather backed chair. henri’s hand stretched out across from him indicating for her to come, to join him, the promise of gentleness slipping between those slender fingers with each moment she lingered. 

he held her hand, turning it to drop his gaze to the tennis bracelet she still wore. “i’d hoped that after all this time i wouldn’t have to prove myself to you,” he continued to turn her wrist around, no doubt at an uncomfortable angle. “you wound me, darling, to think that i didn’t play a role in things.” did she want to see the bodies? the videos? the fucking point transfers? oh, the things he’d done for her... no; no. he wasn’t going to get worked up. she didn’t know. she didn’t realize. this wasn’t.. like elisabeth. eloise wasn’t like elisabeth. she wouldn’t take what henri was giving her and throw it in his face--what they had was real.

a long sigh escaped him. “just because i was in paris doesn’t mean i’d forgotten about you. i was keeping an eye out--things were lined up.” there was a trace of hostility in his tone, annoyed that he’d had to explain himself.

[hxnriolivier]

eloisebardot·:

@hxnriolivier·

holy mole-y me oh my! where was the apple of her eye? gone off too paris again, those pesky family emergencies taking up time and precious resources. why she’d had to negotiate the points for icon all on her very own. pretty scarf tied around her neck with a bow to cover the almost healed rope burn. and where was her beloved to comfort her in her pain or better celebrate for her— no where to be found. and that simply had to change. she was a girl of fickle loyalty when all was said and done. she didn’t like to be poked, prodded, or tested without due cause. 

he was not to be found in the kitchen where she opened every drawer, pulling them off their tracks and letting the silverware clatter to the floor. he was not in the bedroom where she pulled each perfectly ironed shirt off its hanger disheveled piles now tiling the carpet. nor lounging in his study, living room, or any other ransacked room of the house. and so she sat at the dining room table, and she waited. mostly she scrolled through twitter. waited for the footsteps that might announce themselves as the person of her sole desire.

“well look what the cat dragged in!” finally. “how was your trip?”

the moment he decided to follow margot back to paris, henri knew he was agreeing to some form of reparation or another once he returned; eloise didn’t have to demand it--he’d give it freely. they were above those sort of games after all. there was an air of understanding between them that was so rare and powerful in itself henri had no doubts that they’d quickly pick up where they’d left off before his trip. she didn’t need his excuses or explanations. she’d ask for restitution in blood and he would give it; his or anyone else’s.

of course, as he entered his home henri couldn’t hide the slight pause in his step; the throb in his shoulder as he returned to the scene of their previous... atonement. he dismissed those concerns before eloise could catch them and use them against him, meeting her with a half-smile that didn’t travel farther than the corners of his lips. “dreadful, really.” he didn’t react to the state of his belongings, only walking through the destruction and into the kitchen. “i hope you’ve at least left us some glasses. i heard a toast was in order.”

a little birdie had told him eloise bardot had made icon status.

[intreccio-di-profumi-deactivate]

[greenmossloveisreal1998iloveyou]

love is real but im evil now

[bdigfreakingwooper]

[hxnriolivier]

@eloisebardot

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

Loving each other criminally and sincerely,

Sylvia Townsend Warner from The Selected Stories; “A Love Match,” (via transgendersam)

[soapulp-deactivated20200310]

not evil anymore i want to be loved now

[soapulp-deactivated20200310]

evil again

[hxnriolivier]

margot.

the outdoor pool had a tendency to empty out after midnight, every one running for their beauty sleep, leaving the entire deck for her. she sat on the edge of the pool, legs submerged, watching the water swirl with every passing breeze. the cigarette in her hand slowly burning without any aid, her attention had the tendency to drift so late at night. the least of which being why she was here, what she hoped to gain by her petty challenge. that she could hold her hand over the candle her brother presented and prove once and for all that it never burned. that she was the stronger one. the only thing that brought her back to reality was the sound of footsteps against the wet tile. her head turned sharply at the sound, pulling her robe up from where it’d slipped off her shoulders to expose swimsuit. “what do you want?” she studied the person as they drew closer, “sneaking around in the dark, merde! most people announce themselves.”

and so she’d taken the bait, ran headfirst into the dark as she always did--so eager to face the boogeyman and prove that she wasn’t the lest bit afraid. henri felt elated by her presence, so much so that he hadn’t the time to fret over the many headaches she was likely going to cause him while here. she would make her moves and he would make his, the details were entirely irrelevant; the fact that she decided to play his game, once again, was all the proof he needed of her dependence. “mon coeur,” henri greeted, in a parental tone. “all this time spent avoiding me and that’s the greeting you chose?” quickly, before she had time to process what he was doing, he reached forward and caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. “and what trifle hobby have you picked up in order to land a job with prometheus?” margot considered herself a philanthropist--a woman of many interests, yet dedicated to none. the truth was that she simply couldn’t hold down a real job, lacked any sense of devotion to her life (aside from the devotion she had for her dear brother, of course). 

“let me guess-- production? a fancy title show off to mother and father, hm?” his fingers still brushed against her cheek, enjoying the warmth that his presence drew from her otherwise cold body. “art director? something in design, maybe? just stop me when i get it right.” he taunted. 

[hxnriolivier]

eloise.

oh the big bad world! how it ruined everything, with its looming darkness. even here in the safest of havens! it was only lucky her, switching rooms and ending up with her hero, who had the chance to remain safe from it all. returned from fair paris just in time to shield her eyes. even if it was just a dirty drug addict with too much free time. life was sacred, so she’d been taught, it should be treated as such, in the public eye. “you’d tell me if you killed him, right? i’d be so crushed—but honesty is the best policy!”

his timing was either divine or dastardly--henri hadn’t been back long enough to decide. the fact that eloise had remained alive and unharmed in his absence put him at some ease, though the feeling didn’t do much to dissuade him from the sense of foreboding that had met him when walking into cora’s so-called fortress. as he’d been away for the initial lock-down, flown home to paris, cora had been a real cunt about letting him inside once he’d finally returned. henri hadn’t even made it into the room before eloise was in front of him, questioning him about something he had only just learned of himself. “as if i’d hide something as inconsequential as murder from my best girl,” henri chaffed in reply, pausing suddenly to narrow his eyes down at her in suspicion. “did you do it?” 

[ayliffe]

ultimately i think we all want someone who will tenderly wipe the blood off our face

[hxnriolivier]

eloise.

“how homey.” she followed his instructions with a little bit of incredulity. but indeed there was a sewing kit all prepped and ready, sitting neatly in the drawer. it alone raises plenty of questions about why someone would keep this, she certainly didn’t. she wondered if it made her like him more, that preparation for the worst. the willingness to do all evils, and suffer alone. his lead is easy enough to follow, she took the bottle of vodka and poured it over the needle, listening to his question.

she accidentally splashed some onto his still open wound the moment he finishes. hopes the hissing pain serves as a warning. she was willing to accept their untimely death without so much as a flinch, couldn’t that serve as enough. “of course they exist.” she flashed him a smile, holding needle and thread, hollow in every effort. she pulled herself in close. of course now she knew she’d made a mistake in not acquiescing his first reaction. she would have to pay for the overstepping miscalculation. “they’re just not the bardots. who needs boredom?”

he half rolls his eyes at her comment, watching as she does as instructed. though his father was the surgeon, it was henri’s mother who taught him the importance of a good sewing kit--the versatility of it’s uses. the sight of her slender hands sewing up a nasty gash on his arm when he was seven has never quite left him; one of the very few intimate moments they’d shared in his childhood. it was small, but defining: margot watching on as henri was tended to, the wound in question a bite-mark of retaliation after henri had smashed a rock against the back of her skull. that one moment perfectly captured their childhood. henri being doted on, catered to, margot watching from the shadows, quietly bleeding, to later be reprimanded for making such a mess on mother’s white carpet. their father, absent, as always. 

the sudden sting of his flesh causes henri to drop the memory, oddly thankful to be brought back to reality. he grits his teeth but says nothing to her, shows no sign of being angry with her little ‘mishap’. her sing-song words are as expected; excuses and deflections. he’s miscalculated in allowing her to think the playing field is even, and now she’s using that leverage to keep her secrets just out of his grasp. “keep your secrets then,” he mutters, something dangerously close to boredom in his own tone. he allows his eyes to scan the room around them, taking away the attention she thrives on in punishment for her indiscretions. she works in silence for a few minutes, the touch of her warm hands the only distraction for the cold of steel and the tug of thread. henri lets out a small huff, not of defeat but of... compromise. “tell me something then--of your childhood. your family may have been boring but surely, you weren’t?” there’s a challenge in the question, daring her to keep his interest lest it find someone else who will. 

[hxnriolivier]

eloise.

“you have a sister.” her voice raises at the edges, wanting to be oh so questioning, to dig into every dirty little detail, to finally get inside henri’s head and know him inside and out, to know him better than she knows herself. but she knows how it sounds, how she didn’t even have a brother until this conversation started. not in any real sense. she liked that. matching secrets. secret relatives crawling out of the closet and ruining lives. pushing dear boys off of chairs when no one was looking. she didn’t like his sister on instinct, how could she agree to someone that clearly didn’t understand how the world worked, who tried to take the people out of it that were desperately needed. “she sounds like a real treat.”

she finally stopped lounging on her pillow, a princess in repose to receive visitors. sitting up, smoothing her hair, hiding a wince from protesting ribs. she’s close enough to finally hold his hand. she knows the effort undertaken in sharing the truth. in really wanting someone to listen, and for that she can push past a few moments of discomfort. “people never get it.” she sighed, her eyes trained on the collar that hid away what happened. she knew mistreat was likely a kind word for whatever had happened, but she couldn’t say that his sister didn’t deserve it. after all how many tests had she put her own brother through, simply to find him ordinary. nobody on the planet more boring, more infuriating in his ordinariness.

“they have to learn.”the sentence isn’t really hers, its some amalgamation of the conversations she’s had with men who conflate power and greatness, and for the first time it feels right to say. that of course there was a lesson in there, that his little sister should have always known better than to lay a hand. “it’s those pesky friends, always whispering and getting in the way.” it wasn’t as though she had any for any more than a photo op, and for good reason. they made assumptions, they rushed their judgement, they never thought things through.

“i’m over the moon it didn’t take.” she laughed finally, quick and lilting, setting the tone back towards something she can deal with. she hated to think there was something she couldn’t fix, not when actual care was on the line. it was an interesting new sensation, that she might have wanted to save henri. “just in case you were curious!”

her words were neither a question nor a statement, rather, an accusation. despite the topic putting him in a sour mood, henri was unable to resist the curl of his lips at the jealousy in her tone--though, perhaps jealousy wasn’t quite the right word for it. their relationship came with certain expectations; henri was allowed to take what he pleased, so long as he only took it from her. eloise had a claim on him as much as he did to her: they possessed each other. while on the surface it seemed they played for the stake of eloise’ success, henri either helping or hindering her as he saw fit, the game had evolved far beyond that. 

he leans closer to her, the possessiveness in eloise’s words causing his chest to flutter. she does that to him sometimes--gives him a glimpse of the ache he used to carry in his chest for another. it’s a different feeling, less... consuming, but, potent nevertheless. henri is certain he could give himself to this feeling, that he could pretend eloise was what elisabeth would’ve become. “darling, you’re absolutely green with envy.” henri says the words teasingly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and adding, “it doesn’t suit you.” there’s a warning in the comment, cautioning her not to go any further down this road. margot is a prized possession, a woman on a pedestal that despite her faults can never truly do wrong. henri would kill for margot. he has killed for margot. 

the topic of friends was a strange yet welcome turn of the conversation. most of the people eloise spent time with were simple acquaintances, relationships formed for the sake of her image or some other potential career benefit. henri prided himself in being one of the very few people that could offer her all that, and so much more. he took her small hand into his, gingerly rubbing his thumb against the outline of the IV that was taped into her. “has joseph come to see you yet? he’s so blinded by his own projection of you i almost expected to find him sleeping in this chair when i walked in.” it was clear from his tone that henri thought very little of the boy, saw him as nothing more than an annoyance, a toy that no longer offered any new tricks.

[hxnriolivier]

jade.

Her eyes stayed away from him for the time being, looking ahead, trained on the numbers. Henri’s floor was coming up. Great. It wasn’t that she was intimidated; she had the inkling that if she turned to his face, she wouldn’t be able to hide her distaste for him. She knew it was mutual, and that was the only thing she could enjoy. His words? Well, she wanted to spit in his face for saying them, but instead her lips spread a little wider, tugging the muscles in her face to do so with eyes sharp enough to imagine what it’d be like to commit murder.

In an elevator, though, as much as it was owned by Prometheus, there were no knives to stab him with, no gun to pull the trigger with. No. Jade was all by herself with a sheet of buttons and open doors, using only what was available to her: her fuckable little mouth.

Jade’s hand reached over, resting on his chest, smoothing over a wrinkle in his shirt. “Have to give it to you. You really paint a vivid image.” Her eyes trailed down. Little mouth. Little dick. Eyes flickered back up to him. “You must be so… cute to make you think of all the little things.” A soft pat was given before she lowered her arm, folding her hands in front of her as her back leaned up against the back of the elevator. “Anything else before you go? I’d hate to think someone was getting the idea you were trying to fuck me in this elevator, Henry. You haven’t even made me wet.”

the sudden touch caused him to look down at her hand with suspicion, wondering just where she was intending to take this. though he wasn’t entirely sure she didn’t have it within her to make a mistake and actually lash out at him, jade could hardly do anything to him that wouldn’t come back to haunt her 10x. as she spoke, he watched her eyes trail down his body, his jaw tightening as she made her little comments. 

oh--if only they’d been somewhere with a little more privacy, and  henri would’ve had her choking on her own words; among other things. instead he purses his lips, brushing past her as he walks out of the elevator, obviously angered by their encounter. stupid slut, crosses his mind, among several other equally rude and dismissive comments. he has no final words for her, instead purposely knocking into a passing intern and making her trip. his head turns around for the briefest moment, a look at jade as if to say that next time it would be her and the consequences would be much higher.

[hxnriolivier]

eloise.

there’s a furrowed brow moment, where she’s about to think of a nagging rebuttal back, something clawing about how she wouldn’t have needed the points in the first place—but then he gets closer to her, voice lower as if there going to be a secret. and oh how she loves those. she looked at his neck, really looked. she had felt it before. rough ridges of skin where something had happened, the kind of accident to be brushed off and never spoken of. until  now. “why didn’t you tell me!” she pouted, lip stuck out as though she were a child. for four hundred points she would have stepped off the chair without hesitation, neck pulled red. they would have matched. like hearts, like scars.

she distracts herself from the thought for a moment, by answering the important question quickly, pushing it out of the way. “do i want some calls…” she thought about his offer, how it would more than likely add a little gold star to her name to be seen next to some cute as a button children with big starry eyed smiles, looking at a real life movie star. she thinks she’d like to see those pictures too. “yes. not now, though.” not when she still had all of this beautiful undivided attention to herself. “later. i’ll bring dessert.” it’s sort of a joke, it would look sweet ice cream sundaes to lift the spirits. certainly worth her time to smile. she always did love the cherry on top.

“did you really hang yourself?” she circled back to the topic really on her mind, though she looked away as if it was small talk and not the kind of story she was dying to know. she was fairly certain there was no one in her life she had loved more than henri olivier, but that didn’t mean that the secrets of his life simply unfurled themselves to her. “that so sad! i wasn’t there to fix it for you.” a nebulous it, displaced from anything real. she didn’t have all or any of the facts, but she could improvise. and she could care, just a little bit. more than any other person on the planet got. “don’t say you still have dark thoughts. it’ll break my heart!”

he has to assure himself that her concern is genuine, that the golly-gee attitude that colors her words is simply a part of who she is--rather than just another part of the america’s darling persona that she’d striven for. henri manages to swallow back the bite of his words before he speaks them, his long fingers idly tapping against his knee as he decides how far he’s going to allow her into his past; she hadn’t exactly been forthcoming with her own family secrets, so why should he? in the end he settles on telling her just enough to peak her interest, to have her burning with curiosity as he had after her own enigmatic comments about her family. 

“i didn’t do it to myself,” henri replies strongly, opening and then closing his mouth, his jaw already tightening with anger at the memory. 

henri decides to let the words hang in the air, reaching over and snatching a card off of eloise’s side table to read what’s written on the inside. he skims the words, losing interest almost immediately but keeping the act up for another few moments. a unimpressed ‘hmph’ escapes him as he lowers the card, finally looking over at eloise to elaborate further. “i have a sister. when we were younger she tried to kill me.” his voice was thick with nonchalance, trying to distance the words from the emotional response any memory of margot typically brought with it. “it didn’t take--obviously.” 

anticipating the questions she would have, henri thought of a response that would sate her without actually giving away anything more than what he wanted her to know. “i was a few years older. she was still a teenager. a friend got it into her head that she was... in danger. that i had..that i would continue to.. mistreat her.” perhaps to an outsider that’s what it seemed--but men like henri olivier ( men like cyrus roth ) understood the responsibilities that had fallen upon their shoulders. all henri ever wanted for margot was for her to be perfect; was that so terrible of him? “i lived, i retaliated, and life carried on.” 

[hxnriolivier]

eloise.

jade.

She doesn’t even bother watching as Joey is practically pushed out of the room out onto his face, but a belated moment passes before she realizes something important to her.

“You’ve had the key to get out of here the entire time?” she asks him. Henri. Of course, it’d be Henri. Of course it’d be them. Eloise and Jade. The two bitches that’d be crazy enough to see an open door and still suffer through it all to get the points they craved more than anything, if only on the principle of vanity. “You’re such a frog, Henry. How do you keep yourself from eating yourself? Your tongue doesn’t go that far?”

Her hand reaches over to the pile of the dares, eyes returning to him as she plucks one from the middle of the deck, but the moment she reads it, it might as well have been rigged. Her face doesn’t act too surprised, though, and she hands it out to him to take.

“Bring someone in the room to orgasm,” she reads off for them. “If you bring that little cretin back in, I will personally filet you, so let’s get that straight.”

for the moment the dazzle spotlight shifts off her to the cute banter and she catches a breath. there’s no real mask to fall, but she wonders if the audience will read it as some kind of sad darling. in over her head against the cruel adults. she knows people can read all sorts of things into a bent head while others squibble. banter, but all she really needs is pity. that sort of emotion carries weight, who among them will protect eloise bardot. of course she knew what was in store, she’d picked level four. but hey—she could read a room, play to her strengths.

she tilts her head up as though she’s just catching wind of the conversation. “someone?” how totally gross. orgasm on tv! people loved blood spilling, red faces and yelling. they wanted to see wine being thrown but they rarely wanted to get into the nitty gritty of sex. it was so morally taboo still—for a society that was so fine with murder. she wondered where the word slut would fit into her brand. it wouldn’t. she didn’t mind the twists that the night kept throwing her, but she wished when she looked across the room she knew what henri was thinking. they were on the same page, but she wanted to be on the same word. same letter. she plays innocent, wide eyes blinking. “that could mean yourself.”

annoyance flashed across henri’s face at her question, in return asking his own instead of giving her an actual answer. “did you actually think i’d play along with samson’s little game without having a get out of jail card?” in reality--he had nothing of the sort. only good timing, and a few ‘friends’ working behind the scenes that had agreed to let him pull a few stunts like the one that had just happened; all in the name of making their session rise in ratings.

he’s genuinely surprised to hear jade’s next dare, and henri takes a moment to consider his options. joseph is out, obviously. the little creep was in the room for all of two minutes and henri had already felt exasperated with his presence. he could choose eloise--but he wasn’t stupid enough to consider pushing her that far, not on television anyway; they couldn’t risk loosing the prometheus darling image that she’d been working so hard to cultivate. that only left himself and jade... and though he had no qualms with the borderline sexual assault of the action, it again came down to the fact that this was a live broadcast.

if jade wanted to show the world she was truly as much of a stupid slut as they saw her as, then henri had no desire to stop her. he let out a sigh, lifting his arm slightly so that he could look down at his watch. “you’ve got three minutes.” he flicked his eyes back up, a shit-eating smirk marking his expression, “and don’t bother trying to fake it--you’re not that good of an actress.”

[hxnriolivier]

eloise.

“someone has to love me.” she sighed as though the whole business was just a bother to her, and not warming her insides like some beautiful flame, setting her aglow from the inside out. the appreciation of strangers, heady messages of love and devotion, how she was so brave and beautiful. she could say they didn’t mean anything, and truthfully they didn’t—she would throw them all out soon, but she liked the display, the performative outpouring. she deserved at least that much for the performance she put on.

“i’ll be weak for ages!” it’s not a real answer, doesn’t say anything about how there’s a cracking fracture up two of them, how she shouldn’t lift anything heavy for at least six weeks. oh love, how it twists and maims from the inside out. how every breath comes with an agonizing little tinge. “you’ve hurt me again. the bruises!” she winced, reminder of the bright mottled purples that decorated her now. there’s something real to the annoyance that colors the sentence, though she’d be quick to brush it off for him. it was a game, she’s learning not to take these things so seriously. it’s forever a new experience, someone who understood her thoughts better than her own, challenged her to be better. she could have rested on her laurels given a different sponsor, she would have been bored the entire time too. “i’ve got to stay at least another photo op.” angel girl with her blonde hair haloed on the pillow, smiling with a brightly bandaged thumb. “and then i’ll be home quicker than you can say tu me manques.” her french doesn’t quite yet lilt in the ways she wants, but it’s always been the adoring thought that counts.

he could’ve rolled his eye at her theatrics--if only because of the implication that there wasn’t already someone in this very room that was offering her that same adoration. henri chooses to ignore the comment ( it’s not as if he’s going to admit his former thoughts aloud ). 

“would you rather i left the resuscitating to jade?” he asks harshly, knowing that it likely would’ve left all three of them dead. he’s looking around the drab room as he considers what he’s about to tell her, looking for a way to make the words come out as nonchalant as possible. it’s not something he’s ever talked about, but eloise had quickly become an exception to rules like that. henri leans forward on his knees, a hand shuffling around his collar to pull it out and expose the skin around his neck. “we could've matched had you hung yourself,” the scar is faded enough that you only notice if you’re looking, though even that is too much of a reminder for him; a reminder of the night his darling margot and her cunt of a friend almost killed him. eloise may have already seen it, truthfully, there was a night where her small hands had playfully curled around his neck in a effortless attempt to strangle him. 

henri lowers his hand from his shirt, the collar returning against his neck as she goes on about photo ops and when she intends to leave this place. “i could make some calls--if you really want to milk it.” though eloise no doubt wanted her privacy, a hospital allowed for some grade a exposure opportunities; a ten minute visit to the children’s ward, or a surprise hello to some random fan in another wing could easily boost her name on the leader-board.

[so-unoriginal]

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I am drowning, there is no sign of land. You are coming down with me, hand in unlovable hand. And I hope you die. I hope we both die.

[hxnriolivier]

@eloisebardot