Häns

'Was Hänschen nicht lernt, lernt Hans nimmermehr ...' The world is his oyster, but he only cares about the pearl. [ on hiatus til the 6th ]

[twxhansel]

• rockabye ; hans&gret

[twxhansel]

twgrxtel:

they’re always so close, and gretel appreciates it more than ever in these moments where she feels dead on her feet.  he holds onto her hand and she feels attached, a need to keep their fingers locked and knowing well that if she doesn’t, she’d probably fall asleep on her feet.  their life is simple, but it’s still tiring.  and she thinks that maybe, if the way that hansel grabs her hand, he knows - even though she doesn’t say that she needs him to.  

hansel, to her, is a light when he smiles or when he frowns and especially when he holds her hand because he anchors her to this world so much stranger than where they’re from.  she knows that no one misses the homelands more than he does, their woods and their house and their animals - but still, he finds a way to make it through here.  she wants to be just like him. 

gretel wants to be strong, too.

but she is less than capable when it comes down to it - her body grows weaker easier, she gets tired much easier than he does.  he will say it’s because she stays up late, that she doesn’t eat enough - but how can she, when he needs so much more than she can live without? it doesn’t make it easy to hide the yawning behind a hand or the way she starts to look worn thin.  even a simple eight hour shift is enough to knock her dead on her feet, but hansel takes her hand and hansel smiles and suddenly everything is all right in the world.  in this world.  in the world that isn’t their own.

she leans into him when she hears him talking, allowing him to lead her through the city by tangled hands.  a gentle hum is gretel’s response when he speaks about their mice, living in the walls - a friendly pet that most would call a pest.  “ we left a lot for them to eat their fill.” she finally says, resting her cheek on his shoulder.  “ it depends on if they were greedy or if they rationed it.”

She tries to smile; Hansel sees her try. When he walks, there’s a bounce to his step, despite the long day they have just endured. Gretel, on the other hand, quietly follows along, her slight frame leaning against him. While he is animated, she is soft.

Hansel knows; Gretel is tired.

And to him, it is the fault of this world. He blames the evil of money and the cycle that it traps everyone in. One needed it; one could not live without it. It was corrosive, burning the energy of all that it touched, and yet one couldn’t escape it. Not here, where everything was so dependent on currency. And it was Hansel’s belief that, if not for that, for the strange obsession with riches, his sister would not be working herself to the bone or losing sleep over making ends meet.

Yes, it was the fault of this world that his sister was suffering.

And Hansel doesn’t like this. He hates this.

But, all he can do is try to protect her. All he can do is try to lift the weight off her shoulder, and carry it for her. He is her brother, after all. He should be strong enough to look after her.

(But he’s not).

“I think they have probably eaten it all,” Youngdoo replies, his tone still pondering. “They are always hungry.” His gaze turns away from the concrete landscape around them and he looks down at her. His eyes soften as their Mother language rolls quietly off his tongue.

“Gretel ... Are you sleepy?”

[twxhansel]

are you saying you need a friend right now? you can trust me.

timeline: uncertain

Hansel huffed and threw his arms up. “No, I didn’t say that--” But then, what had he said? He rambled that he was feeling lonely, and that he didn’t want to be alone,, and that he was worried. He was worried for Gretel, he was worried about the future. He was worried if there even would be a future.

“Look, I just-- It’s not safe, Doha. If you’re my friend, then things could happen to you too -- bad things--”

“... But, I’m okay with that. I want to help...”

This. This was why Hansel was so frustrated. Doha, he was too kind of a person. His compassion was a gift, but it came with a limitless selflessness. a selflessness that placed all harm on himself if possible. And to Hansel -- who admittedly cared about the other Fable -- did not want that to happen either. He didn’t want to see another person in his life potentially be erased, with little that he could do to stop.

Hansel hated that he was powerless. He hated that he’d been powerless all his life.

He couldn’t let it happen that way anymore. Even if it meant hurting those closest to him, he was going to do whatever he could to keep them safe.

“I ... I can’t.” Youngdoo looked up, staring steely into Doha’s soft, brown kind eyes.

This is what he had to do.

‘I’m sorry, my friend...’

“I don’t trust you. You’re no friend to me. You can’t help.”

‘I’m sorry...’

[twxhansel]

• plotcall !

ay yo, i am running out of active threads for hans, so if you’d like a random starter, L I K E this post and i’ll think something up for our muses!

[twpsyche]

❮  BIRTHDAY WISH  ❯

[twxhansel]

twdoha:

i thought we all were the children of god ,   @twxhansel

two weeks go by, and he gives up on the idea that hansel will remember his birthday.  in spite of it, quasimodo smiles anyway.

their birthdays lie a few days apart, and at first - when his day passes, he thinks that of course, it’s because hansel is thinking of his own.  why remember a birthday that isn’t yours if your own lies just around the corner.  perhaps it’s his nature, but it’s easy for doha to forgive and forget, or explain something away that others would say he shouldn’t.  surely, hansel wouldn’t forget it forever, since they’re best friends.  friends remember each other’s birthdays … eventually.  that’s what he tells himself when he shows up at hansel’s apartment with a wide smile and a parrot that sits on his forearm to tell him happy birthday right at midnight on the first of april.

doha still thinks the look of death hansel gave him at the door for being woken up is cute.

but then, the first of april passed - both of their birthdays had now since passed.  then a few more days; they meet, they leave, and doha is left wondering if they’re perhaps as good of friends as he’d like to believe.  as good of friends as he really wants them to be.  his heart twists in ways that he can’t describe, but still, doha smiles because it’s the only thing that he can do.

if he had a birthday wish, it would have been for someone to remember.  ( it would have been for hansel to remember. )  

still, doha knows well that wishes don’t come true, and that’s why he’s not upset.  that’s why he smiles anyway when they sit by the lake and he holds out a bag of seeds for hansel to feed the ducks with.  “ how is he? your parrot.” he speaks slowly, carefully - as if thinking about his words, as he always does.  he shifts enough to pull out a mirror from his pocket to check his face, and - satisfied - he puts it back and turns to hansel with an easy smile.  ( he pretends he’s not thinking of being forgotten. ) “ do you .. like him?” more than me?

… he really shouldn’t be jealous of a parrot.

Hansel likes to think he has a good sense of time. After all, for the longest period of their lives, Hansel and Gretel didn’t have any form of time-telling device to rely on. The brother became accustomed to judging the time of day by the sun, and the time of night by the alignment of the stars. He had an astute attunement for seconds and minutes, for how many hours would sometimes pass. It was simply a skill he’d honed well, especially when that night’s dinner depended on it.

However, once days, weeks, and months became involved, Hansel was not so good at keeping track. He worked on a short-term basis, not long-term. Of course, he could distinguish and predict seasons and the time of year that it was in regards to that, but that was about it. To him, anything outside of that was a struggle and prone to be forgotten.

Birthdays was one of those things that fell into the ‘often forgotten’ category. Hansel never forgot Gretel’s (that was more of a given than anything else; he could never forget her birthday), but everyone else’s would more likely than not slip his mind. In fact, he could barely remember his own when it would roll around annually. To him, it was more of a marker for another year survived.

So, when Doha had appeared at his front door at the smack of midnight one night, raising him from his precious sleep, the initial look on Hansel’s face had been very much less than impressed. But, upon the sight of a parrot on his friend’s arm, the death glare brightened to a beam of excitement. Sadly, Hansel isn’t attentive enough to quell potential upset understandings.

He doesn’t realize that Doha treats him far better than he deserves.

As they’re sitting at the park, a favourite location of theirs, Hansel isn’t aware of any underlying reasons for Doha’s question, of any sensitivities that he needs to be wary of. He simply thinks that his friend is curious about the bird that was gifted to him.

“Hm? My parrot? Oh! He’s doing great!” Hansel gushes, his aura automatically lifting as it does when any animals are ever mentioned in a conversation with him. “I have him on a perch that I made last week and he seems to really like it. Sometimes, when I’m watching t.v., he’ll hop over to me to see what I’m doing and watch t.v. with me--”

Reaching over, he takes a handful of seeds from the bag that Doha offers him and throws them to the ducks, all the while chattering away happily, obliviously.

[twgrxtel]

❨◦  dark alley, bad intent  ◦❩

[twxhansel]

twgrxtel:

when i told you i loved you, i meant it ;       @twxhansel

they always take the same way home, and gretel thought that it was safe.

her eyes view the world through rose coloured glasses, and gretel knows that hansel’s view is just a little darker.  she believes the best in people and he prefers to live in his shell because he believes the worst.  so her attention goes to the sky when they walk, and his always stays alert.  it’s always been that way when they’re together.  hansel is a protector, gretel is a provider and that’s why they are a team.  ( it’s why she so desperately believes that she will never be able to live without him. )

their path takes them through dark alleys in the mundy world until they reach their home in fabletown.  some nights she sleeps on hansel’s back, but on others like tonight, gretel is wound up and almost talking to herself while hansel listens, because he always does.  it’s pay night, so that means food on the table and that means money for rent and it takes a tremendous weight off of gretel’s shoulders.  she’s always much more relaxed on pay day -

that is, of course, until she sees the look on hansel’s face.  she’s walking backwards and not paying attention as per usual, and she really should be - but she doesn’t because she never does.  instead, naively, she asks, “ what’s wrong?” 

when gretel’s body turns to see what the problem is, her blood runs cold.  a hand clasps at hansel’s shirt at the sight of something held loose in a stranger’s hand and it doesn’t take her very long to realize that this is what a gun looks like. “ .. hans ..?” she starts, forgetting for the moment that he is youngdoo and she is minah in the face of mundy territory. “ what’s going on?”

The world, no matter what any says, no matter what anyone tells him, is never a safe place.

In fact, Hansel isn’t sure he believes in the word ‘safety’. Like the fairytale stories told to children, it’s merely a fragile pretend of hopes and wishes. Everyone wishes for a safe place. Everyone wishes for somewhere that they can truly feel peace and no fear. 

But, in reality, that place doesn’t exist. Home is supposed to be safe. Hansel and Gretel were supposed to be safe in the place they’d called ‘home’, in the Homelands. The irony of the events that followed were rather laughable. The siblings were essentially betrayed and abandoned, thrown out by their own parents to fend for themselves. And the so-called ‘Homelands’ -- well, everyone knew how ‘safe’ it really was there now.

Safety didn’t exist. It had long been shattered in Hansel’s world.

It’s why he always looks around, his gaze never staying still. Some might think it’s an inability to focus attention, a lack of self-control. And if he is stationary, seemingly engrossed, there’s always at least one sense that is aware, alert for even the slightest notion of a threat. If he’s not watching, he’s listening. And if he’s not listening, he’s watching.

Even if they’ve walked this route over a dozen times, Hansel is never fully relaxed. He doesn’t trust the Mundies, any more than he trusts other Fables. Both, in his eyes, are as untrustworthy as the other. In most situations, it makes him unjustifiably prejudiced. And, in a few situations, it makes him prepared.

But even if he thinks he’s prepared, sometimes, he never fully is.

He notices the sketchy figure step out of the shadows from a side alley, several seconds before Gretel does; granted, her attention had been skyward, her guard dropped and her mind at ease. His face hardens and his pace stops. The approaching man doesn’t stop. In his hand, he holds a gun, and it’s pointed at them. A glance and Hansel knows it’s not a fake. It’s loaded.

“Don’t worry, Gret’, it’ll be alright,” he says to her, quietly, reassuringly. He knows she’s scared from the shiver through the hand on his shirt, and his mind is already working through possibilities, plans. He can hear his heartbeat in his ears.

“Y-You ... give me your wallet,” the mugger threatens, jabbing the gun in their direction. To Hans, the stutter tells him that the lowlife is nervous, and not very confident. He’s certain they’ll be able to escape him, unharmed.

[twxhansel]

• rockabye ; hans&gret

[twxhansel]

twgrxtel:

sometimes, gretel thinks that he acts like a child simply for her amusement, to appeal to her need to take care of him.  it’s like he knows well what she needs in the moment, to save her from drowning, to save her from worrying on her own.  gretel thought that only God knows how desperate she is to make sure that hansel is well enough to survive, but perhaps she’s mistaken and hansel has already seen through her with his eagle eyes.  she might be wearing down, but as long as she still watches him stay strong, it at least puts a little bit of spirit back into her lifeless, starving bones.

maybe this is just his way of making sure she stays strong, too.

but even still, his childish and hungry whining won’t make the exhaustion in her go away - that’s only something that sleep will fix, but there’s so much to do when she goes home that who knows when her head will hit a pillow.  there’s dinner to make and juggling bills with money that they don’t have saved but she will always make it work.

her shoulder though, bumps into his - all of these worries will be stifled until later when he’s sleeping with his belly full of whatever she decides to scrape up from what’s in their fridge.  “ you shouldn’t be whining then.” she quips, eyes tired but still soft in her affection.  “ i told you, i know you’re always hungry - you don’t have to announce it every time.”  she thinks for a second and sighs, still not really used to the name minah.  but while out amongst the mundies, they don’t really have a choice. “ i’m ready, i’m ready.  let’s go home, ‘doo.” 

Despite the long day, and despite the monotonous routine they have found themselves stuck in -- in this world where there’s all these rules and systems, all of which seem far too complex -- a bright grin, a grin that is reserved solely for Gretel, a grin that he only grins around Gretel, shines in his face. To Hansel, he just needs a simple life, not all of this bustling pace that the Mundies seem to call ‘living’. He just needs a few things to make him happy: a sheltered and warm home; his sister; and food and clean water.

To him, the Mundies’ living seems more like running a fast track to a quicker death. No wonder they don’t live nearly as long and have so many problems.

Once everything truly is done and dusted, and their ‘day jobs’ are over (at least for the day before they have to get again go back and earn their survival), Hansel takes Gretel’s hand to start leading them on the way home. Some might give them funny looks, even think they were something other than brother and sister, because both of them in this world are considered ‘grown ups’, and grown up siblings in this world should be independent, both in affection and reliance. But to him, he doesn’t care. He will still hold his sister’s hand when they walk, out of care and love. Subconsciously, it’s also because of his need to be near her, of his inability to be without her. He just needs to always have that connection with her.

“I wonder if our mice have eaten the food we left out for them this morning. Do you think they would have finished it all?” Youngdoo asks his sister, both pondering aloud to himself and asking her opinion.

[twpsyche]

❮  BIRDSEED  ❯

[twxhansel]

twdoha:

i thought we all were the children of god ,    @twxhansel

being with hansel is easy.  

he doesn’t have to think when he’s with him because things come easier; his ears focus on the sound of birds in their trees rather than the scrape of man made cars, and he doesn’t worry as much about the slip of his glamour because he knows hansel would tell him first.  ( he always brings a mirror just in case though, because more than anything, doha doesn’t want hansel to see him when he’s ugly.  no one ever likes him when he is. )

still, being with hansel is easy.  though he often picks up on the way he walks slow ( like a tortoise, he says ), he never tells doha to hurry, just walks on ahead.  but doha never worries that he’s going to leave, because even though he’s slow and steady and always focused on walking right, hansel is there waiting for him at the end.  even now, when they’re at the park and he’s watching hansel’s back and the way he looks up at the sky to see the birds, doha knows just how much he needs yoo youngdoo.

but when hansel finally manages to catch his eye, he just smiles and holds out the bag of birdseed.  “ do you need more?” he asks quietly, not letting onto the things he thinks.  “ i still have plenty.” 

In a way, Hansel missed the Homelands.

Even if he and Gretel had lived in poverty in those lands, taking each day as it came, it had been less ... complicated, in a way. Not so many of these tall, metal and glass trees, where everything was just drab and grey. Where was all the green? Where was all the sounds of animals, or the gentle ripple of streams or a river nearby? It was just so ... cold here.

It was one of the reasons that the park was one of Hansel’s favourite places. It reminded him of the Homelands.

Usually, he’d go with Gretel. Sometimes, he’d even go by himself. But lately, it had been nice to go with Doha. Doha was good to go to the park with. He never moved quickly, which meant he never startled the animals. He was also quite quiet. In fact, the combination of the traits made Doha remind Hansel of a tortoise -- large, and slow moving, but so majestic with their age and gentle nature.

Yes, Hansel was convinced that Doha was very much a tortoise instead. And Hansel loves tortoises.

But compared to Doha’s slowness, he is much more impatient in pace. Rather than have the self-control to slow down, he can’t help but walk ahead; he’ll just wait at the end, after all.

He wanted to see the birds today. And, with a handful of birdseed, he scatters some of the morsels on the floor, to entice the feathered animals towards him. He watches as they flock to him, the gathering of a few alerting others of the prospect of food, and he just stands there, feeling a glimmer of being home.

He wonders if Doha has caught up yet.

“Oh. Yeah, I do--” Youngdoo stretches out a hand, holding it out expectantly for more seed, but he’s otherwise too occupied to move any further as a couple sparrows decide to land on his other arm.

[whatilearnedfromliterature]

But if these years have taught me anything it is this: you can never run away. Not ever. The only way out is in

The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao by Junot Diaz (via whatilearnedfromliterature)

[twxhansel]

• be sure to bow down

The mission itself had only been part of the task. Today, the most important aspect of it remained -- to deliver the files he’d collected, safely and securely, as per the instructions. And, unlike Hansel’s typical self, he was nervous. 

It wasn’t like him, to be nervous about a meeting. Hansel wasn’t the type who’s pulse would quicken, in which fear would mar his thoughts and plague his senses with hypersensitivity. After all, there wasn’t much for him to be afraid of. Some called it reckless. Other would call it brave. He simply called it ‘I don’t see why I would be scared’. He feared little for his own well-being. It was irrational and illogical, this lack of fear, because unlike some others, he wasn’t immortal. Hansel was a mere human. He wasn’t magical nor could he wield any sort of magic. He wasn’t blessed with gifts from some other realm. All he possessed was a knack for aim, hunting, and a sharp eye for survival.

Ironic, really, given his absence of rational fear.

This meeting, however, did make his heart race anxiously, and he hadn’t even stepped foot within the building yet. His feet were still taking him en route, but he was ... uncomfortable. He couldn’t be uncomfortable, he shouldn’t be. Why should he be feeling uncomfortable?

He had never met the Adversary in person, only heard words and whispers through rumour mills and hushed gossiping. Everything that he knew had been word of mouth, and more than likely spun like fine thread to suit whoever was spinning the tale.

Nonetheless, what he had heard, to him, had sounded promising. There were promises to him in the tales, of something that could better Gretel’s and his life, and they sounded like ... a fairy tale. It sounded like ... a chance. And so Hansel had taken the chance, secretly, for the sake of their future, for the sake of Gretel. He just wanted a better life for them. He just wanted to stop their struggling.

Was it so bad to just want to live in peace and happiness for once?

To Hansel, this seemed the best path to take, given the outcome that the war had been heading. He didn’t particularly care about which side won -- as long as the side that won was the side that he was on.

‘Meet the second-in-command, give them the USB, do what they tell you, and just fucking leave as soon as you can,’ he reminded himself, but the hand gripping the strap of his messenger bag was white-knuckled.

‘What are you so afraid of, Hansel?’ 

He finally pushed open the door of the rendezvous location, the Hard Rock Cafe, and looked around for the person who matched the description he’d been given. ‘Dark hat, dark liner, ash blonde hair ...’  It didn’t take long for him spot her, but he was certain that he could have known without a description.

‘Why ... do I feel so cold ...?’

Perhaps it was just the air-con. Perhaps they simply had it on too strong in here, or he just happened to be standing under a vent, but the chill didn’t subside as he moved closer, approaching the table where she sat, on the far side, and sitting down himself, as if meeting an old friend. Only, she wasn’t an old friend.

Lumi, he’d been told. Lumi, the Snow Queen. That was the second-in-command that he was to rendezvous with. Of course, to him, the name had meant nothing, and neither had the title; politics and aristocracy had never been his thing. But seated here, across from her, even as nothing was yet said, he felt an unknown force that made him feel clammy.

It was the same feeling he’d felt when Gretel had once fallen ill. It was the same feeling he’d felt when he’d lost her one night, when he’d returned from hunting.

It was fear.

He could feel his mind falling into a haze, and could only hear the pounding of his pulse in his ears. Thinking back, it felt like he was in a dream, like he wasn’t sitting there but watching everything occur outside of himself.

She’d asked him if he’d like to order something, commenting that he must be hungry. He’d blinked but then smiled, and signaled the waitress that he wanted to order a long black and a toasted sandwich, ham and cheese. Once the waitress had left, Lumi had asked for the USB. Hansel had again smiled and fished it from his bag, handing it over, with a comment that there shouldn’t be anything missing. She’d inspected it briefly with her hawk-like gaze before putting it away in her own belongings, and then the waitress had arrived with his order, a long black and his ham and cheese toasted sandwich. It had smelled amazing. When the waitress left again, Lumi said that he could eat. He’d eaten, demolished the food on the plate in front of him in next to no time. Then, she’d asked for his camera and any other equipment he’d used. He’d again, fished it out of his bag and handed it over. He’d erased everything once the files had been transferred, and even done a reset of the settings. She’d inspected it carefully, and then handed it back to him, along with a folded $100 note. She’d said he could leave and she’d pay for his meal, but he was to not reveal her identity to anyone.

And he’d gotten up and left. He couldn’t be certain other things weren’t said, but he couldn’t quite remember. Other questions had been asked, idle bits of conversation, but it was like white noise in his memory. All he could remember, however, was her eyes.

She’d stared at him as she’d warned him, with eyes that he’d seen elsewhere before. They were like the eyes of the night sky, watching and yet doing nothing when he and Gretel had been huddling on the forest floor, freezing, shivering. They were like the depths of the river when a whirlpool had pulled him under, teasing him with his life and yet not quite drowning him.

They were dangerous, and capable of cruel. 

And they made Hansel afraid.

[twxhansel]

homelands ` ( even tho u didn't reblog just do it )

•Homelands: Our characters and how would they be if they still met back in the Homelands

“Gre~tel!”

Hansel hopped to a stop before her, his hands behind his back, a bright grin on his face.

“What is it, Hansel?”

“I’ve got a surprise for you! Close your eyes–”

“Can’t you just tell me?” But her lids slid shut, concealing the soft, gentle browns from the world.

“No~ because then it won’t be a surprise.” He moved his hands back to the front then, the ‘surprise’ out in the open. “Okay, you can open your eyes now!”

Caution emanated from her, one eye carefully peeking at first, before both curtains flutter open and an astonished squeak pierced from her throat.

“Oh, Hansel, why do you have this?”

Hansel held out a pure white rabbit to her, its body encased in his palms. It was small, only a wee thing and fluffy with little perky ears, and no match for the brother’s firmer hold. It seemed to know that there was no point in struggling.

“It’s my surprise! For you! I found it.” He looked at her, his sparkling eyes expectant for praise but they were beginning to mist with confusion. “I … thought you’d like it. Don’t you want it?”

“Oh, Hansel … I do, but … it’s so small, and only a baby … Where is its mother?”

Hansel couldn’t say anything. He couldn’t tell her that he’d found its mother – or, what remained of its mother – outside the burrow, butchered too cleanly to have been any a fox or wolf, cruelly taken for the skin only. He couldn’t tell her that. It would make her sad.

“I found it alone. I think it was abandoned,” he lied, but it was only a small lie, a white lie. He wasn’t fully lying. It was okay. “Do you want to hold it, Gretel?”

“Oh! It’s– … it really is only a baby, Hansel … But … we can’t keep it …”

Hansel frowned. “What do you mean?”

“How will we feed it? Look after it?”

“It’s easy! It doesn’t eat much. And it’s only small.”

“But Hansel …”

“… What?”

“…”

“… What if we just look after it for a bit, Gretel? We can, can’t we? Just for a bit? I’ll look for a bit more food and it can sleep on my gloves–”

“… Okay, but just for a bit …” That’s what she said, but there was already motherly adoration in her eyes as she gazed upon it, her soft hands leaving soft caresses. “… What shall we name it?”

“Ummm … Cotton.” And he beamed brightly. It was small, and fluffy, like the balls of cotton on the cotton plants they’d seen once.

“Okay, Cotton it is. Welcome to our family, Cotton~”

[twxhansel]

• keep silent; stay in the woods

“... Hänsel…?” “...Yes, Gretel?” “This… new land that we're going to live in…” “Are you afraid, Gretel?” “...” “It's not that much different from the Homelands, I've heard. Are you scared here?” “... No…” “Then you don't need to be afraid. Don't worry; as long as we stick together, like always, nothing can happen. And it'll be better there, Gretel. I promise.”

‘It'll be better.’

Everything needed to go as planned today. Hansel knew that heavy consequences awaited him upon the result of failure, and the Adversary’s soldiers weren’t people you could trifle with. Although to him that didn’t matter, it was because of his main cause, his main reason for his shift in allegiance, that it did matter.

As he left the apartment, disappearing while Gretel slept, that all-too-familiar heaviness of guilt clawed at him and he faltered at the door. It pained him to leave her. It pained him to be keeping silent. But ultimately, his love for her, as his everything, was stronger. He had to do what was necessary to give them a better life, and this was it. After all, he’d always promised to protect her.

‘But, have I stepped into darkness too hard to escape this time? Will it consume me? Consume us?’

He couldn’t dwell on that now. It only worked to cloud his senses and judgment, which in this moment needed to be impeccable. It also wasn’t a solo operation, which made it even more crucial for every detail to be executed perfectly. He knew they could succeed. This was the stalking before a hunt, and Hansel had very rarely failed a hunt.

The task had been clear. He had to manage to record footage of Crane’s expressions and voice, all the while remaining hidden, for obvious reasons. Luckily he wasn’t alone, and had the help of Hyosung to distract their target, or else he was sure he would be caught in a spot of bother. Hansel was good, but he was only human.

As planned, Youngdoo worked on entering the office ahead of time, to position himself in a prime and concealed position prior to Crane’s arrival. Getting into the office was easy. Almost childishly, he used a stink bomb to clear the hallway of other fables, before picking the lock and silently slipping into the office. However, he knew that there was a significant obstacle that had to be avoided or temporarily removed: Bufkin, the flying monkey librarian thing.

He and Hyosung had talked for hours on how to deal with him. Unfortunately, they were not allowed to harm or kill the monkey, which eliminated the easiest options. If he were able to, Youngdoo would simply shoot the monkey to get rid of him, but that counted as ‘harming’. And also ‘killing’. Their next best bet then was a tranquilizer. Youngdoo still got to shoot the monkey, at least.

As soon as Hansel was in, he moved as fast as he could, moving to be hidden while also scanning the room for the flying annoyance. He located him next to Crane’s desk, a bottle of wine in his hands and feet as he chugged down the substance. If Hansel had known the monkey had a perchance for alcohol, he’d have used spiked alcohol instead. 

Wasting no time, he pulled out an old-fashioned tranquilizer pipe and darts, and got into position. If he’d been anyone else, this would have been near impossible, but Hansel had a knack for these things. He might not be the smartest, and be terrible at reading, but ask him to nail a bird half a block down and it would be on the ground as soon as the words were finished being spoken. Well, maybe it would be -- it depended who was asking.

He aimed, hands well and steady, and blew, the dart landing square in the back of the green thing’s neck. It took a few seconds, and he could see panic in the creature as it grabbed at the dart, trying to remove it and fly away from any further harm, but that was the only moment of struggle before it grew limp and collapsed. Hansel gave it a few more seconds, just to be sure, before moving to pick up the monkey and the wine, removing the dart, and placing it behind one of the closets, out of sight. He also positioned the bottle of wine in its hand, for good measure. He may as well.

Then he got to work scouting a good dark spot to hide in, with also a good angle. Youngdoo knew that people rarely looked up, and even less so when distracted by someone, but a space between a pillar and a large wooden cabinet caught his eye, perpendicular to Crane’s desk. It was in the shadows, concealing him and allowing him a small gap to film through, and as he walked around the spot, viewing it from different sides, the abundance of other furniture also allowed him to shift angles if needed.

‘Perfekt.’

Crouching in place, he texted Hyosung a ‘thumbs up’ emoji, and then waited.

And waited.

The door opening almost startled him, as Crane and Hyosung entered, but he quickly fumbled with the camera in his hands and pressed ‘record’. All he had to remember was to make sure he kept a clear shot of Crane’s face, and ensure the audio was as clear as possible. 

Hansel watched silently as Hyosung did her part -- made him talk, incited as many different reactions as she could -- in the only way she could: seductively. It was difficult to watch, and he had a hard time working to control and contain his disgust. The last thing he needed as to reveal his presence by dry retching, but it didn’t stop him from mentally voicing that Crane was a ‘fucking dirty old fucker’.

It was gross to be a witness to such a scenario. He felt like a voyeur, only he was being intensely turned off by the interaction before him rather than turned on. Hyosung was attractive, but Crane ... Oh, hell no.

Thankfully, the agreed upon signal for him to escape was finally given, Hyosung secretly flashing an ‘okay’ sign with her fingers behind her back, and Youngdoo stuffed the camera back into his bag and slinked out as silently as he’d came, hitting a stroke of good luck with an empty hallway and walking as calming and normally out of the building as he could. Once he was a few blocks away, he replied to the ‘ping!’ from his phone.

‘Easy as pie.’

Now, all that was left was to deliver the information later. On the way home, he stopped by a small garden, plucking a few flowers to take back for Gretel.

‘I promise I’ll protect you, Gretel. No matter what.’

[twxhansel]

yoo youngdoo  →  26  →  aries  →  p u r e ?

[twxhansel]

• hän-gers & re-grets ; pt i

‘I guess this is a sign.

‘I may have tried to cook something. And I may have set something on fire. And then I may have burned two towels. And maybe destroyed one of her favourite pans.

‘She says she’s not mad, but I think she is. And she tried to tell me that she can save the towels but I know she can’t. At least she let me throw out the pan. I didn’t want to walk down the stairs so I threw it out the window.

‘I guess I should check when the kitchen store is open tomorrow. And probably the pawn shop too.

‘Maybe I can bargain with the owner. Why should a piece of metal cost so much?

‘I should get some new tea towels too, something with leaves on it. Gretel would like that.

‘We haven’t been to the park in a while. Maybe I’ll get some bread from a bakery and we’ll go feed the ducks.

‘Gretel likes ducks. Ducks aren’t hard to look after as pets, right? I could catch one.’

[twxhansel]

• bargaining muffin ; hans&puck

@twxwheein

It’s no lie that Hansel is hungry ... always. Perhaps it’s because food was so scarce, growing up. He admits that he has little to no self-control in the face of edible morsels, but to him it’s just him filling in a basic human necessity. Because, after all, one can’t live without food, and he’s not planning to any time soon, not if he can help it. 

But even so, he still often found himself going hungry, this stomach gurgling with ample disgruntlement. Of the siblings, the brother wasn’t allowed to handle their meagre finances, and that was probably for the best; if his self-control with food was anything to go by, Hansel’s self-control with anything else was rather similar.

He didn’t have much left in his pocket today, save for a few dimes, maybe a quarter, and half a dollar. But, he needed food, and as he passed by a bakery, his nose caught the whiff of something baked, and presumably edible, and his feet automatically led him inside. Perhaps he could weasel a free morsel from them, out of goodwill.

[whatilearnedfromliterature]

Their words had the quality of midnight prayer, deep from the depths of another sleepless night, as if the right words might call forth a future where they need march no more.

Your Heart is a Muscle the Size of a Fist by Sunil Yapa (via whatilearnedfromliterature)

[twxhansel]

• mere bottle boy ; hans&hyung

 @hyungwontw

Gretel needn’t know, Hansel told himself, as he’d sneaked out of their apartment that evening, his backpack slung over one shoulder, his phone in one hand. There were creaky spots in the floorboards, and he expertly avoided them, silently darting around the areas as if he knew them like the back of his hand, and exited their home like a ghost passing by, heading towards the edges of Fabletown.

He didn’t know if she knew, but he had seen the growing concern in his sister’s features as of late, and he was certain they were almost always to do with their financial situation. Money never seemed to stay in their hands for long, no matter how hard they tried to hold on and cut back on luxuries, and he knew that any mention of him picking up an extra job would have lead to protest. It couldn’t stay this way, however. He was her brother. He was supposed to be looking after them.

What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

So here he was, at the steps of Absolem. The job description had seemed simple enough. Titled that of a ‘bottle boy’, he assumed that the main duties would be waiting drinks for people, cleaning glasses, refilling stock ... easy enough, right? And it fit in with his daytime shifts at the cafe. It looked perfect, from his point of view.

Carefully pushing open the doors, he stepped inside, eyes glancing around curiously. He’d been given instructions to meet someone upon arrival, but he couldn’t remember who. Hopefully they would show up to save him the trouble of searching.

[twxhansel]

• short changed ; dean&hans

[twxhansel]

twxdean:

Honestly, Dean allows his gang members to do most of the dirty work. It was strange considering that he’s a gang leader, yet he doesn’t get his own hands dirty that often. Well that is if you’re a certain fable full of mischief. So when he request the gang members to go after a man who had recently short changed him of his IOU money, he was expecting perfection in their deed.

So when he’s alerted that they supposedly found the man, Dean is delighted. Like he always is towards his gang members because they work so hard. But that’s about to change now. One of the goons growls at Youngdoo, “Be quiet. You don’t get to speak unless our sir says so.” Shutting him up before a pair of footsteps arrive through the door. A few bows were made by other henchmen surrounding Youngdoo and thus, Cerberus has made his arrival.

Stepping forward, Dean notices that the person sitting in the chair looks different. Way different. But nonetheless, he sneers at Youngdoo. “Hmmm…did you change your face the last time I saw you? Or perhaps….” Trailing off, maybe his suspicions were right, although…his gang rarely fail in finding the right person.

They say a picture can say a thousand words, and Youngdoo’s expression at that moment really does say it all. It tells a thousand different words of annoyance, layered upon disbelief and light amusement. Did that brainless muppet really just tell him to shut up? What is this, a meeting with the king? He very much doubted so; as far as he knew, statuses of royalty and nobility meant very little here in the city of New York. Regardless of that, the male had also always held little regard for authority and formalities. One could either call it ignorance or disrespect -- take your pick.

The supposed ‘sir’ enters rather soon after the goon’s blathering, thankfully; hopefully he has a little more sense than the men he commands, but if such an evident mistaken identity could be committed -- truly, this was such a rookie mistake -- Youngdoo could be completely wrong.

Blatantly unimpressed brown eyes stare up at the other male in reply. There’s no fear in them, as there probably should be; only an unfound level of confidence even though he is currently bound to a chair and grossly outnumbered by more than just a few. But, that’s Hansel -- always looking danger in the face even in the most unfavorable circumstances.

“I’ve never seen you in my life, because I’m pretty sure I’d remember your face if I had. You see, I’m pretty good with remembering faces, unlike your henchmen here--” He jerks his chin in indication to the useless underlings employed by this man. “You’re the boss here, right? If so, I gotta tell ya-- I’m pretty disappointed with the hospitality here. First I’m kidnapped, and then I’m not even told why I’ve been kidnapped in the first place--”