Pairing: Beast!Nick “Goose” Bradshaw x Belle!Reader
Characters: Beast!Nick “Goose” Bradshaw. Belle!Reader, Tom “Iceman” Kazansky (brother), Rick “Hollywood” Neven (brother), Charlotte “Charlie” Blackwood (sister), Penny Benjamin (Sister), Mike Viper” Metcalf (Dad), Pete “Maverick” Mitchell (Lumiere), Marcus “Sundown” Williams (Cogsworth), Sam “Merlin” Wells (The enchantress), Leonard “Wolfman” Wolfe (Henry “Wolfman” Ruth) (Coatrack), Peppermint (the horse [a true icon]) Adam, Gaston, Le Fou, Carole Bradshaw (briefly mentioned), Sydney (Belle’s mother) (briefly mentioned)
Warnings: Angst, fluff, mix of two versions of this movie, I have no regrets, sad times, mentions of death, Bradley adopting reader as his mother, Hollywood and Iceman are big brothers, Charlie and Penny are big sisters, chaotic family energy, this has consumed my thoughts for this entire week, Nick being depressed over losing his lovey Carole, the castle has terrible weather, this took a minute for me to write
Word Count: 13,897
You had a feeling something was wrong all day, your stomach constantly in knots your anxiety causing your heart rate to skyrocket.
It was unusual for your papa, Mike, to not return the day he is supposed to. And if he knows he won’t, he sends word, so you and your siblings won’t worry… especially with the story of the lonely beast who roams the abandoned castle somewhere in the woods.
The story has always been your brothers’ favorite and the very reason they continue to join the hunting parties the people in town have been because they “want to protect the family.”
And there’s no way Mike would ever return during the night since his eyesight isn’t the same as it used to be (no matter how much he tries to deny it).
Another thing he would never do is let your most prized possession, your family horse, Peppermint, loose.
Your siblings know never to let anything happen to her; she was the last thing ever given to any of you by your mother, even if your family say she’s yours.
You can’t reminisce long as the sound of her neighs gets you to push yourself off your knees and quickly exit your small vegetable garden.
You’re quick to grab her reins and slowly place your hand on her head in the space between where her eyes meet (her favorite spot to be pet and the only place that can calm her down). You gently shush her, never removing your hand. “It’s all right, Peppermint. You’re safe now.”
You swear she understands you because it looks like she shakes her head, deep breaths huffing out of her nose as if she disagrees. “Where is papa?”
She takes a gentle step forward, trying to burrow her head into your hand. “Oh, no.”
The sound of your name diverts your attention away from your beloved horse.
“Rick.”
He closes the front door behind him. “What happened? Where is father?”
“I- I,” you struggle to respond, not having an answer yourself. “I don’t know.”
“What are we going to do?”
You take a deep breath. “I don’t know but I will find out, okay?”
“What do you mean? What does that mean, Belle?”
You purse your lips at the nickname your family hasn’t used since you were a child. You grab his arms, looking him in the eye. “I will be back. But, if I’m not. I need you to-”
“I’m not going to think of that because it’s not going to happen. I know you and I know you will bring our father home... just give me-”
You shake your head, “no. You are not coming.”
“I am your brother-”
“You are the youngest-”
“I’m older than you.”
You click your tongue, “still the youngest, but I will return. I promise. I just,” you glance over at the garden. “I need to find someone to tend the garden.”
“The garden.” His eyes widen as he thinks about what you’ve said. “The garden!?”
You nod, “yes, the garden. Don’t- I’ll be back.” You run to town knowing who you need to talk to will be there.
-
You stop, taking a deep breath before entering the town; you look around to see if anyone (who could tolerate you was nearby), you’re in luck. “Oh! Oh! Yes!”
You run over to Sam, typically known Merlin by those who don’t like him.
“Sam! Sam, dear!” You take a deep breath as you run to him. “Sa- am.”
He smiles upon your arrival until he sees your hunched over, out of breath position. “Deep breaths. In… and out. Again.”
“I know how to breathe but,” you take a deep breath, “thank you nonetheless.”
“Of course.”
“Now, the reason I rushed over is to ask you for a small favor?”
“And what favor is it this time?” He asks, with a raised brow.
You tend to ask him favors a lot, most of which consist of borrowing sugar or if he could help you find a screw so your papa can fix your clock, the one gifted to you by your mama before she passed since your siblings never want to help you with these things.
You shake your head. “I need you to watch over the garden… papa has not returned, and I fear for his safety. You know of the stories.”
“Which stories? Everyone in town is fearful of the woods for many reasons,” he points out, but the expression on his face doesn’t match his words which you ignore due to your worry of your papa’s safety.
“You know,” you lean forward as if you’re sharing a secret. “The stories of the beast.” You forgo the unnecessary details of the abandoned castle seeing as he was the one who told you about it, even though hardly anyone knew this minor detail... something you don’t find to be weird.
“You think he has wandered into the castle?”
You sigh. “I would most certainly hope not but he had asked me if I wanted anything when he decided to come back from his trip. Of course, I told him no seeing as he had too many items to get from the lists my sisters left, but he wouldn’t accept that answer. I fear he had stopped somewhere dangerous to get me such the thing I asked for, when he knew we could go on a trip to the nearby town and get it there. Oh.”
The man shushes you. “Don’t worry. I’m sure he’ll turn up before you can even exit the town line.”
You squeal, hugging him. “Thank you. Thank you so much, Sam. I will not forget this. The youngest of my brothers will be home but you know how none of them appreciate the love of the garden.”
He nods, “I do. Now, go home and pack a bag.” He pulls the blanket off his basket and hands you a few rolls he bought from the baker earlier along with a medical herb mix he makes for anyone who gets injured.
You shake your head, “oh, I couldn’t.”
“You can and you will. It will help you on your journey.”
“Okay. Thank you again, Sam.”
He smiles.
You run back to your home, grabbing your coat and bag with necessary items for any scenario you could think of on the spot; the book that you never take out lays at the bottom followed by some medical wrap, ointment, Sam’s “magical” herb mix as well as the rolls and a small handful of food suitable for humans and animals.
You want to pack more but there’s hardly any room for other things. “These are necessary items,” you tell yourself. “That’s all I can bring with me. It's okay. You’re okay,” you tighten the grip on the strap of your bag. “He’s okay.”
After getting Peppermint ready and grabbing the spare key for Sam, you return to where you last saw him.
-
Rick stands in the doorway. “I don’t like the thought of you leaving on your own.”
You nod, “yes well. If I don’t do it, we may not have a father anymore. Now move, Rick.”
He doesn’t.
“I said move.”
He gives in and takes a step back. “At least let me come with you.”
“No,” you shake your head. “I need you to stay here. Tom is working out of town so that he can have enough money to leave home while Charlotte and Penelope are out trying to find new fabric so that they can have new dresses made for them. One of us must be here.”
A heavy sigh slips past his lips. “Fine but, I’m not happy about this.”
“I know,” you smile before pulling him in for a hug. “I will be back before you know it.” You prepare Peppermint for the journey and take off back to your dearest (and only friend).
-
He turns to the sound of Peppermint’s hooves clopping against the dirt floor.
You reach into your bag for the key, holding it out for him to take. “I’ll be leaving now. If papa and I do not return before tomorrow…” You gulp.
He nods, pocketing the key before patting your shoulder in a comforting manner. “I will make sure you both return, if that is the case, you have my word.”
You resist the urge to smile, knowing full well that he and Rick would be the first ones to lead your search party. “I know I’ve said this before but... thank you.”
And you’re off.
You hoist yourself up on Peppermint's saddle and crack the reins, putting your faith into her to guide you to your papa’s last location.
-
She slows down once the two of you reach the blocked entrance of the forest where the beast has been rumored to reside.
“Is this where you came from?” You ask out loud, voice low, close to a whisper. “How did you two get in?”
As soon as those words are said, the splintered branches and thorny vines begin to retract themselves, creating a walkway for you to ride through.
Peppermint takes a step back; your hand instantly reaches her “special spot.”
“We’ve got this.” You pat her head before clutching the reins, “we can do this.”
There’s no turning back now, it’s now or never and you have your mother’s genes.
You crack the reins once more and run through, glancing over your shoulder to see the entrance return to its original state. You shake your head; you can’t focus on that and return your focus onto your current mission.
The wind continues to get harsher and colder; you lower your head to protect yourself, putting your full trust into your precious horse.
She slows her pace, but you can’t bring yourself to raise your head until she comes to a full stop.
It's even worse than you realized, the castle from all the stories is… beautiful.
The gray clouds that disturb the clear skies near the village and the fog on the lower levels may be enough for other people to turn around and leave but not you.
It fills you with a sense of nostalgia, reminding you of your older sister during childhood when Charlotte asked to hear a short story about your mother.
He couldn’t bring himself to tell you kids a lot, but he went into more detail about your mother’s hobby, painting and how her work wasn’t for everyone.
Later that night, your papa would tell you how he always admires you for finding the beauty in dark and twisted things because he couldn’t always do that himself which is why your mama’s paintings are covered and collecting dust.
It’s obvious how much it still pains him to talk about her.
You were about the age of ten when you found out what happened to her and your oldest brother, Tom, was the one to tell you. You don’t think it’s a moment you’ll ever forget and only because you found out the truth.
-
He tucks you in while your papa was working downstairs.
“What happened to her?”
“To whom?”
You ignore his gaze. “To mama.”
“Oh.” He doesn’t respond for a few minutes. “Do you remember when I told you of the plague that started to invade our first home?”
You nod. “As much as she tried and prevented us from getting it, she wound up getting the plague herself.”
“She did?”
He nods. “But she was never alone even in the end, she was still surrounded by those she loved... now it’s time for bed.”
-
You realized that night how much your father has truly done for you and your family even as he was dealing with heartache; he had whisked you all away from your first home to make you all stay healthy and safe.
And, after twenty-two years, he still loves her even as his life has changed and become darker; you still do your best to cheer him up, even if it’s only temporary... Which is why you can’t give up.
She stops a few feet away from the front steps of the castle.
You dismount from Peppermint and slowly walk towards the building, wary of where you step because of the icy grass and cracks in the ground. You hope your papa didn’t fall; you swear you hear the ground cracking as you hopped off her.
Her neighs pull you out of your thoughts, Peppermint nods towards the side of the building. You turn and walk in that direction only to find a few fallen petals, putting you on high alert.
You follow the trail and find a rose smashed into the ground due to large animal like footprint. You hold the dead rose in your hands. “Oh no.” Your head snaps up after a shingle falls, cracking on the ground, your eyes shift towards one of the many roofs to find a shadow staring.
A gasp escapes you; you push yourself up and move away from the area. Glass crunches under your foot, breaking into a million little pieces; you to look down.
You bend down, wiping away the small pile of snow (which is only on this side of the castle) that covers the item and find your father’s pocket watch. You quickly put it in your pocket before looking up, finding nothing there. “It must have been my imagination.”
You tighten your grip on your beloved Peppermint’s reins and walk back around towards the, now, open entrance of the castle. “I’ll be right back.”
Her defiant neighs and stomping of her hoof stop you.
You pet her, assuring the horse that you’ll be fine and won’t be long. You furrow your brows at the sight of the slightly ajar door, but your sense of worry overtakes your common sense. Your fingertips barely brush against the creaky door as it opens further. You take careful steps inside, not wanting to fall with the poor lighting hiding the dark floor.
The door slams shut, you jump and turn at the echoing boom!
You take a second to think about what just happened. “Don’t worry. You’re inside, you’re safe.” Your mantra doesn’t ease your anxiety or heart as you continue through the castle.
A faint echoing thump piques your interest.
‘Papa?’ You run up the stairs, searching for the noise and eventually you find yourself in a dungeon.
The thumping becomes louder and clearer than it had been before the closer you get to the staircase; you rush down the spiraling staircase, keeping one hand on the wall so you don’t fall. You pause when you notice how narrow and long the walkway is.
Even with how dark it is, you can still see the cracks wherever you step, concerning you for yours and your papa’s safety.
You carefully step forward, slow enough to apply a little pressure needing to see if it's safe enough for you to walk and once you do, you grab the source of light to your right off the shelf and continue.
The gasp escapes you before you can stop it. “Papa!”
He looks so defeated and scared.
Mike calls out your name, his hands wrapping around the cell door bars, keeping him steady. “You must leave. The- the stories-”
Your eyes bounce around all over, in search of something. “Where is the key?”
“You have to leave before he finds you.”
“What are you talking about? I’m not going to leave you here to suffer. You’re needed back home, and I will make sure that happens.”
He’s shocked. “But- but you have to.”
You shake your head, “I can’t. I will not lose another one of my parents. You have much more to teach the others, things I cannot.”
He softly says your name.
You don’t respond and ignore him until he says your nickname. “Belle. Belle. Stop.” He grabs your hand, holding it tight to get you to stop.
You stare at him with sad, tearful eyes and he only smiles in return. “It’s okay.” You lower your head.
A heavy thud against the last step gets you to flinch and snap your head over in that direction.
‘The shadow from outside.’ Your heart beats faster, filling you with worry and dread until it disappears.
The cell door opens, both of you are hesitant to move before you rush to pull him out.
“We are leaving,” you throw his arm over your shoulders. “We’re leaving and we’re not turning back.”
Your papa doesn’t fight you nor does he say anything as you two exit the castle.
“How do we get out?”
“I have to go back,” he mumbles.
“No,” you argue. “You are not going back to that dreaded place. It- the beast let you go. Why else would the door open?”
“He didn’t,” he shakes his head. “The beast told me if I leave, I will only have twenty-four hours to see my family again before I have to return.”
“Twen- twenty-four hours?! That’s not enough time to say goodbye.”
The conversation dwindles from there.
-
You two manage to make it back to your home before it gets dark.
“Rick!” You call out for your brother, “Rick!”
He runs out of the house, the tension leaving his shoulders at the sight of the two of you. He calls out for the two of you as he rushes over to help your father off Peppermint.
“Have the others returned yet?” As soon as you uttered those words, your other siblings rush out the door, calling out for your papa.
Once Rick, Charlotte, and Penny take your father inside, Tom turns to you. “What happened?”
You explain that he was out to get the things from the list you all had given him, and Peppermint was the one to return, leading you to an abandoned castle.
He raises a brow at the mention of the castle. “An abandoned castle?”
You nod, “yes. Why do you sound as if you don’t believe me?”
“I never said that.”
“You didn’t need to.”
He clears his throat, “let’s go inside and enjoy the fact that father is home.” He stops, “one more thing. Stop giving your key to that man.”
“Sam? He’s harmless.”
“I don’t trust him.”
“Yeah, well. I do. He’s nicer to me than everyone else in the village other than the librarian Adam or that buffoon Gaston when he’s trying to make Penny jealous.”
“Stop talking to him.” He walks ahead of you, leaving you to look back at the village.
Your shoulders sag, you know what you need to do.
You prepared dinner as you planned and enjoyed what you knew to be your last night at home.
Once everyone cleaned up and went to their rooms, you sneak downstairs, grabbing your coat and bag before mounting Peppermint’s saddle.
“This is the last time you’re going there. I promise.”
And you’re off.
-
She stops at the entrance once again.
“We need a way in.” You stop for a minute and think.
“I am... trading my papa’s place with me?” You tilt your head when the entrance opens again. You shake your head, knowing you can’t focus on it any longer.
You grip the reins as tight as you can before cracking them.
-
You hop off Peppermint and pet her one last time before trying to let her go. “Run home, Pep. It’s not safe for you to be here.”
She nudges her head in your hands.
You sigh, “you can’t fight with me on this.”
You can’t resist those eyes, “fine but you stay here until I can find a safe place for you.”
-
You slowly enter the castle, not expecting to see candles lit or there to be less cracks in the floor, maybe you should have paid more attention to your surroundings before you ran in search of your papa.
The door slams shut behind you, you jump turning around to look at who it was only to find a rocking coat rack. “Odd.”
“You returned?” The low, deep voice says as it echoes throughout the first floor. Your poor heart can only take so much more.
“Uh- yes,” you slowly respond, searching for him.
“You returned in place of your father?”
“I did. He needs to be in a place where he can be properly taken care of and continue to look after my family.” Your hand rests on the pillar, adjacent from the stairs, as you peek around the corner only to find nothing.
“The thief has a family.”
You furrow your brows, taking offense to his comment.
“He is not a thief!”
The beast jumps down a few feet behind you and shakes the ground, your arms circle the air as you try to keep your balance before turning around.
“He stole the one thing that is precious to me. He is a thief,” his voice lower and more menacing than it was earlier.
“He is not a thief! He was trying to get the one thing his youngest child asked for because he knew it would make her happy!” You shout at him, chest heaving, eyes full of fire, something he hasn’t seen in a very long time.
The beast scoffs, ignoring the nostalgia that tries to worm its way into his cold heart. “You are to have dinner with me every day.”
Your head jerks back. “What if I don’t want to?”
“You’ll have dinner with me, or you will starve.”
You furrow your brows not understanding where he thinks he has the right to control you and what you do. “I will do whatever I want to do. You are not the boss of me!”
“Fine!” He whirls around, “see if I care whether you live or die!”
And he runs up into one of the wings, no longer wanting to see you.
You can’t believe the nerve of the- the- your eyes widen. You gave attitude and talked back to the beast from the stories you’ve been told about for as long as you can remember (since you moved to the village). “I just- oh my,” you take a deep breath and try to calm yourself.
“You held yourself together. Better than I ever could,” a male voice says.
You whirl around, finding no one there. “Who said that?”
“I did.”
You look down and find a candelabra there. Your eyes widen and you fall back into the nearest chair. “I’ve lost my mind. I’ve lost it and it’s never coming back.”
“Don’t say that mademoiselle.”
“I’m saying it.”
An awkward silence fills the air.
“Maybe having dinner will take your mind off things?” He weakly offers.
“I think I need to sleep right now. I can’t- I still don’t believe everything I’ve seen today.”
“Follow me.”
-
You lay in bed, dressed in the night gown that was laid across the bed (after a long fight with your inner conflict about if you should or shouldn’t wear it).
It takes a long time until you can go to sleep and when you do, you dream of strange things such as a man dancing around with a woman in a ballroom.
The pillars look the same as the ones you saw in one of the main rooms earlier.
You don’t know who they are or why you’re dreaming about them or even how you remember them when you wake up. Sitting up in bed, looking around the room, you realize how stuffy it is.
You need to get out of this room and learn more about your new… place of residency.
-
You barely make it down the stairs to the main room you were in the night before when the candelabra interrupts your thoughts.
“Good morning, mademoiselle.”
You slowly turn, staring at the object. “Good morning,” you slowly say.
“Oh, forgive me. I never told you, my name. I am,” he spins around, “Pete, Maverick to others.”
A smile stretches across your lips, “it’s nice to meet you, Pete. I was going to do some exploring since this is where I’ll be... from now on.”
“Ah, you can visit any place here you’d like but- uh- don’t go to the west wing.”
“What’s in the west wing?”
“Nothing-”
“Lots of damage. It’s dangerous for you to explore.”
You furrow your brows at the sight of the clock. “And who are you?”
He stutters, not entirely sure if he should tell you or not.
“This is Marcus, also known as Sundown,” Pete says, introducing his friend.
“It’s nice to meet you, Marcus. Are there any more of you or is it just you two here?”
“Oh, no,” the candelabra shakes his head. “There are more of us, very few though. Most of them got away before they could be touched by the spell.”
“How many of you are there?”
“Too many to count.”
You fall back into the nearest chair when the tea cart bumps into your side.
“Oh, sorry dear. The young prince isn’t so good with directions,” the tea pot tells you as she offers you a kind and welcoming smile.
“Yes, yes. Sorry, miss,” the second teacup apologizes.
“It’s alright,” you smile back at him.
“You must need something to warm you right up and I know just the thing.” A cup of tea comes towards you.
“Be careful, Chip.”
“Yes, mother.” He turns back to you, “hello there.”
“He- hello. I take it you’re Chip?”
“Yes, miss.”
“Should I be drinking from him?” You turn to the tea pot. “It doesn’t seem right.”
“It’s alright,” she assures you. “It won’t hurt him if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Okay,” you take a sip and pull back when a bubble pops.
“Chip! How many times have I told you not to do that?”
“Sorry, mother.”
“Oh no. It’s okay, he’s having fun.”
“Don’t encourage the two. They’re handfuls already,” she jokes.
A coatrack hops closer to your small group.
“And that,” Pete begins. “Is our favorite of us all, the ever so silent, Leonard also known as Wolfman.”
“I take it he talked a lot?” You ask.
“Yep, you could never get him to shut up.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Leonard.”
He waves a wooden post in return.
“Sorry about them dear. Oh, I almost forgot, I’m Mrs. Potts and the boy blowing bubbles is my son Chip and this one behind me is the young prince, Bradley.”
“It’s very nice to meet you all.”
“You’re pretty,” Bradley gushes before hiding behind Mrs. Potts.
“Thank you, Bradley,” you offer a gentle smile. “And you are a handsome young boy.”
“You don’t know what I look like.”
“You have a kind personality, that makes you extra handsome,” you whisper as if it’s a secret the others shouldn’t be hearing.
He giggles and spins around the other boy.
-
None of you knew but the beast formerly known as King Nick (Nicholas Bradshaw the II) was in his secret passageway, listening and watching over his boy as he had begun to do after the passing of Queen Carole but more so when the curse was placed on the kingdom.
Part of him wonders if you’ll be the one to break the spell while the other part wants nothing to do with you to spare him from any future heartache.
Maybe tonight he’ll eat dinner with you, apologize for his behavior.
He shakes his head, “no, no. She is not the one. She-”
An earthquake shakes the building, small debris falls from the ceiling.
He runs through the walls, not caring if he makes any noise.
-
He takes careful, steady steps into the room not wanting his heavy footsteps to cause another petal to fall. He sighs at the small, broken rose.
-
Once the shaking stops, you glance around the room.
“What was that?” The older woman sighs.
“Another petal has fallen,” Marcus chimes in.
“What- what does that mean?”
“If the last petal falls, the curse takes place and we all become objects while my father remains a beast,” Bradley answers you.
“You’re all cursed?” Your voice comes out as a whisper.
“Sadly, yes,” the tea pot informs you.
“I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault, dear.”
“How did-” You glance back at the two boys and decide not to ask now, you don’t want to bring up any bad memories. “When did it happen?”
“We’ve lost count over the years that have passed,” Pete tells you.
“Oh.”
“That’s enough of that,” the clock interrupts. “I think it’s time for lunch.”
“Okay. Am I going to get another dance number with all the utensils and plates?”
“You never know, mademoiselle.”
You narrow your eyes at Pete.
A few days later…
The others have things to do, and you’re left alone so you take this opportunity to venture around the castle. Nothing fun or very interesting in, what you assume, and hope is the north wing. Same thing with what you do know as the east wing (the sign was helpful).
You take careful steps as you walk into this wing since it’s more run down than any others you’ve seen so far. Your head snaps to the left, eyebrows knit together when you see nothing there.
Maybe it was nothing.
You continue and slowly open the creaky door, silently groaning to yourself as the creak echoes.
Once the door is open wide enough you walk further into the room, eyes catching the sight of the not dead rose trapped in a glass confinement.
You tilt your head trying to figure out why because the rose should be dead along with the fallen petals.
-
Nick’s shoulders sag as he walks up the steps, so much for taking a nap.
This time though, he woke with less heartache than the night before.
He knows he’ll never be able to forget her, his beloved wife, Carole.
She was his everything and always up for an adventure, which coincidentally is how the two found each other in the first place.
If only they had taken precautions and checked to make sure there were no bees.
They knew her family had a history of being allergic to bees, but she was lucky enough to have never come across any… until the search for the most majestic deer anyone could see came about.
Sometimes he wishes he never wanted to try and hunt the creature but then he comes to the realization that there was nothing he could do.
He shakes his head to forget his cries for her and how Bradley would never see her again.
His large body walks through the door without noticing the door was already open, not until he lifts his head to see you staring at the glass with a confused expression, he can’t focus on that for long as his nerves and heartbreak take over.
“No! Don’t touch it!” Nick rushes over towards it. “You were told to stay away from the west wing!” He growls at you, spit leaving his mouth landing on your cheeks and forehead. He takes a step closer, “you could have ruined everything! Ruined my chance to save my son!”
You step back. “I’m- I’m sorry- I-”
He stops moving and lets out everything he was feeling in that moment, what he felt when he lost Carole, when he was turned into this- damned thing, and what (he thinks) it would feel like to lose his boy.
A deep growl comes from the back of his throat. The vibration of the powerful noise is more than enough to cause the room to shake, the slashed painting on the wall rattles behind you, terrifying you to your core.
You don’t wait until he’s finished before running out of the room, down the stairs, and out the doors.
None of the cursed servants and prince can stop you even as they call out for you... not even the youngest of them all.
-
You hope you're close to the end of this hellish nightmare as you begin to slow your pace, unable to sprint anymore.
You’ve exerted too much of your energy to keep going and force yourself to slow down taking deep breaths as you stand hunched over with your hands on your knees.
Growling comes from your left; your head snaps up.
Your eyes widen at the wolf, and you begin to think. ‘I could outrun a wolf… can’t I? How fast are they?’
Until four more stand beside it.
You blink away your tears, taking slow steps backwards.
Maybe if you moved slowly and cautiously away from them, they wouldn’t see you as a threat, although you know better; the illogical part of you can’t help but take over during this time.
A flash tosses one of the wolves away.
You shout out, “behind you!”
As a wolf lunges at the beast, you were so terrified of before you ran out here and grab a stick, doing your best to quickly shove it off him.
All the wolves leave before the beast could harm another.
You don’t know if you should try and help him not… even if he is technically the reason you left.
“Are you going to help me?” He grumbles under his breath, and you just- you want to smack him.
A heavy sigh comes through your nose before you can stop it.
“Oh, and now she’s mad.”
You scoff through your nose.
“A thank you would be nice.”
“I wouldn’t have been out here or almost died if it wasn’t for you.”
“Ungrateful.”
“Ungrate-” You stand in front of him, one hand resting on his chest while the other latches onto his arm. “You are in no condition to walk back on your own.”
“Oh, am I not?”
You narrow your eyes to him. “And what do you suppose we do? I don’t think either of us have much of an option, right now.”
A familiar neigh stops you before you could answer him. “Perfect timing as always, Pep.” You turn back to the slumping lump of a beast.
“Now, get on.”
“I’ll crush it.”
“You won’t. She can handle it. It’s either this or you die in a blizzard... which won’t happen.”
“Why not?” He asks, lying on the back of your beloved horse with his chest on the saddle.
“I won’t be the one to tell your son his father died because of his pride.”
No other words were exchanged between the two of you that night or the following two nights as he rested.
-
While you comfort the young prince, your second oldest sister, Penny asks your brothers and father if she could ask Gaston for help, to which they denied her.
None of them wanted to deal with the man whose ego is so big, he can’t walk straight (they make jokes about how he always manages to walk into a mirror, even though that happened one time when he still ate three dozen eggs).
She clicks her tongue in disappointment, stopping her foot for extra flair.
“Penny,” Tom starts. “We don’t need to involve that idiot; he’s done nothing but try to ruin us. Why would we start to give into him and his demands now?”
“He is good. He will help is. He told me so himself.”
“And you truly believe him? Even after he told people of rumors about you.”
“That wasn’t him.”
“Well, it certainly wasn’t the old man that did it,” he looks off into the direction of Sam.
She stomps her foot and walks away, slamming the door to her shared room.
“Nice,” Rick comments with sarcasm.
“I didn’t see you jumping in there to help me.”
“I thought you had it handled.”
“If I had it handled our sister wouldn’t be out there with that- that beast!”
Rick takes a step back, looking at Tom, trying to get a read on him and it’s clear that he feels like it’s his fault even though none of them had control over this situation. “None of us could have ever known that this is what fathers' trip would lead to.”
“I should have known. I’m the oldest, I look out for us. I told him he didn’t need to take this trip.”
“You didn’t?”
“No.” He shakes his head, “but he was sure he did, and it made sense why he thought so.”
“Why?”
“Penny and Charlotte were out of dresses.”
Rick smacks his brother's arm, understanding that his only way to deal with this is through humor, even if it's only temporary. “What do you plan to do?”
“I’m not involving that imbecile, that’s for sure.”
“Oh, but haven’t you heard his story about how he ate three dozen eggs to help him get large and after started to go for four dozen once he was large.”
Tom narrows his eye at his younger brother, “you know I do and that’s exactly why.”
-
You gently wipe away the blood. “You can go to sleep you know. No one is going to hurt you.”
“I know no one would hurt me.”
“Someone’s cocky,” you mumble.
“What was that?”
You shake your head. “Nothing.”
He hisses and tries to pull his hand away.
“Hold still. I’m almost done and then you can rest some more.”
The others watch as you take care of him, wondering what’s changed for the cold-hearted king to be so… kind to you after everything that’s happened.
You place the wet rag back into the bowl, placing it on the table beside his bed. “I’m going to put this on your wounds.” You lift the bottle Sam gave you a few days earlier.
“What is it?”
“A gift from a friend.”
“And how do I know you’re not actually trying to poison me?”
“If I was, you would know and why would my friend try to poison me?”
“I don’t know.”
“That wasn’t a very good question to ask.”
He doesn’t say anything and grumbles under his breath, low enough for you to not hear what he says.
“You’re not going to complain or anything as long as you want someone to take care of yo-our wounds.” You cringe at the thought of saying “take care of you”.
You barely know him and already find yourself enamored with him.
Oh no.
He doesn’t say much else and moves when you tell him to.
“Now, that your wounds are taken care of. I’ll see myself out. Get more rest.” You rush out before he can try and argue with you.
-
The others follow in your footsteps, leaving their king and prince alone.
“Papa?”
“Yes, Bradley?”
“Do you think she will be the one to break the spell?”
Nick doesn’t turn to look at his son. How can he answer a question like that when he doesn’t know himself? How can he move on from Carole?
She was the love of his life.
Maybe that’s why he can’t.
He feels that if he does then he and Bradley will forget her and he could never bring himself to do that, even if he does struggle to talk about her.
“She’s a very nice person.”
Nick hums, faintly listening to his boy as he goes on about her family and the sacrifices they’ve made. He furrows his brows, “what do you mean?”
“About what?”
“The sacrifices her family has made. What do you mean by that?”
“Oh. She told me when she was a baby, her mama got sick, and her family had to leave making her papa sad. And her big brother has been working hard to make sure they can all buy things they need while her sisters search for husbands and her other brother stays to help her papa with his creations.”
“And what of her?”
“She can’t leave her family alone. They need someone to look after them.”
“Who takes care of her?”
The boy furrows his painted brows. “I don’t know.”
That’s why you chose to trade your life for his.
Nick holds back a groan thinking back to the number of times he called your father a thief. “When did you find this out?”
“Not long ago.” Nick imagines, if his boy was human again, he would have shrugged.
The boy yawns for the third time today.
It’s as though time is running out faster than he would have hoped for.
The two Bradshaw’s fall asleep, one dreaming of a time when he could have fun without worrying about breaking into pieces; the other, he dreams of dancing with the one he is to call his wife.
-
You, more or less, have the same dream although this one turns into a nightmare with two women dying.
You push yourself up, no longer feeling the need to sleep. You couldn’t tell who either of the women were at first.
But the more you think about it, you slowly begin to see who it is.
As you sit in bed, analyzing all that you dreamed of, you knew one was your darling mother while the other was Bradley’s mother, the beast’s first love. You still cannot wrap your mind around the fact that you keep dreaming of her.
Maybe sitting in front of the fire would help you fall back asleep.
You take the blanket off your bed and wrap it around your shoulders as you tiptoe out of your room and down the stairs until you make it to the main room.
The fireplace is already going by the time you sit in the chair.
You let your mind wander, curious as to what your family is doing.
-
Hardly anyone sleeps soundly in your family’s home anymore as they continue to work on a plan to bring you home.
“Why can’t we leave and try to find it?” Charlotte asks.
“Because, as I’ve said before, Char. We don’t know where it is. How many times do I have to tell you that,” Tom tells her.
“I don’t know, I didn’t hear you. Tell me again.”
Mike does his best to clear the tension between your siblings.
“Enough.”
They don’t stop, it’s like they don’t even hear him and continue to bicker at one another.
“Enough!”
They turn towards him, giving him their full attention.
“You two are adults and will act like it because you are not the only ones scared for the safety of your sister.”
They lower their heads, muttering apologies.
“We need to focus on figuring out where that damned castle is so we can bring Belle, home.”
Rick doesn’t want to ask but knows if he doesn’t, no one will. “Do you remember where it is? You said it was surrounded by the forest; how did you manage to make it through?”
“I,” your papa pauses, thinking back. “I just- there was an opening.”
“Where?”
“There was- there was just an opening.”
“We need to know where she went, we need to know how to find our sister.”
“I understand that. I know better than anyone how it is to miss someone but there wasn’t anything significant that could help us.”
“What if we talk to Gaston?”
The three men turn towards Penny.
“He might be able to help.”
“We’re not going the idiot so he can flex his muscles,” Tom explains to her.
She rolls her eyes, “he wouldn’t do that.”
“He does it all the time and it’s annoying because you get distracted and that’s not gonna help us.”
She huffs, “do you want to find her or not?”
“Of course, we do but we’re going to do it without him.”
“Have any of you told anyone anything about Belle’s current... predicament?” Rick asks. He remembers the weird looks the people in town were giving him earlier that day.
“Why do you ask?” Charlotte chimes in.
“You don’t want her to talk to Gaston about this but, I felt eyes on me as I walked through town earlier.”
“But you always have eyes on you. We all do,” Tom argues.
“I know, I know.” Rick starts, “it just- it felt like there were more eyes on me today and I feel like people are noticing that she isn’t home. I think they’re starting to talk about it.”
“Ignore anything they say. We’re bringing her home no matter what it takes, you got it?” Tom gives his siblings a stern look.
They nod, not giving him a verbal response.
Sometimes it’s better to go along with what Tom tells em rather than try and argue with him. “It’s too late for us to go out tonight but first thing when we wake up, we’re searching for her.”
Your papa and younger brother nod.
“We’ll stay here in case she comes back,” Charlotte adds.
It was agreed that this was the plan and if they couldn’t find you tomorrow- they’re not thinking about that because they won’t stop.
They’ll keep going until they can’t any longer.
-
You wake up to find yourself in the bed that’s been deemed as yours. You furrow your brows, knowing for a fact that you did leave this room at some point.
Part of you wonders if it was a dream or if the beast carried you back here.
You find a book on the nightstand and fight the urge to smile before dismissing the thought, not being able to imagine him doing something so kind… even if you did recently help him with his wounds.
You get dressed and don’t plan on asking him if he did or not, it’d be easier to forget your crazy thought than try and dig for information.
You don’t find anyone in the hallway or near the stairs, other than the echoing putter patter of what you assume to be the hunting dogs, remembering the brief description of how Bradley’s mother passed.
You feel for the boy, knowing how he feels especially since it happened when he was so young and why… Nick acts the way he does.
You consider yourself lucky since your papa never lashed out at any of you. You know what you’re going to do today.
You walk along the lower hallways, stopping when you spot a familiar tall figure speaking to his son.
You find yourself standing beside the doorway, unsure if you should leave or not, knowing that the floorboards would creak underneath you.
-
“She is a nice person.”
“So, I’ve heard,” his father mutters before setting his son down onto the table so he can search for another book. “You should smile at her.”
“Why would I do that, Brad?”
“She doesn’t have many friends and I know you would like her.”
“I don’t think anyone could befriend a beast,” he mutters under his breath. “That sounds like an interesting idea.”
“She likes to read.”
“Does she now?” He asks as if he doesn’t already know.
If the boy was human, he’d be nodding. “Yep! And she’s read a lot of the books we have here.”
“Oh.”
“I think she’d like to visit our library.”
“Interesting.”
“Her favorite is also yours.”
“Really?”
“I think she’s a good person to talk to… she would understand why you’re angry if you told her more about mama.”
Nick spins around, “what do you mean? Did you tell her of your mother?”
“Only after she told me how her mama died a few months after she was born. Her papa doesn’t talk about her.”
He sighs. “I don’t want to burden anyone else with knowing about your mother.”
“She would be happy to listen. She smiles every time I talk about her.”
“And how many times has that been?”
The boy doesn’t respond for a few seconds, trying to figure something out. “Twice.”
“And she was nice enough to take the time to listen to your ramblings?”
The teacup jumps up in happiness. “She did. She only got sad when she told me how no one from her family can speak of her without getting sad or not wanting to speak of her at all.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Tell her.”
“I’m with him.” Pete pops up out of nowhere.
Nick purses his lips, not liking when the two agree (ever, it never turns out well). “I can’t just tell her. She won’t understand and I- I wouldn’t be able to explain it to her.”
“Then take the time to explain it to her,” Pete adds with a “duh” tone.
“I’m not doing that. She doesn’t like me and I’ve- I’ve grown to accept that.”
“But-”
“Enough Bradley, it’s time for your lessons with Miss Potts and Chip.”
“He’s not wrong, you know.”
“Can it, Mav. It’s not happening.”
“But she still has it.”
“No. No one else has that loving feeling but-”
“You know it’s okay to open up your heart. She would want you to be happy, that’s all she ever wanted.”
“How can I be happy when it feels like I’m betraying her?”
“That just proves you loved her with all that you could.”
“So, that means I have nothing left to give?”
“N- No, I meant that you loved Carole with all that you could. Now, you have a chance to prove to yourself that you’re not the grumpy old man you pretend to be.”
“I’m not a grumpy old man,” Nick mumbles.
“Oh, you’re right. You’re an angry old man who pretends his heart is ice-cold and black, like he’s not worthy of finding someone new to love.”
“I’m done with this conversation.”
“Only because you know I’m right.”
Nick walks out of the room before he grabs his friend and throws him out a window (again). He huffs, debating on walking through the walls today.
‘Maybe I should try and show her kindness? Perhaps the book isn’t enough.’
He walks down the hallway, his ears twitching when Miss Potts' voice echoes through the hallway.
He steps closer, hiding behind the door, watching as the older woman talks to the kids and you.
-
“I wish I could help more around here. I feel like I’m not doing much.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that deary,” Miss Potts assures her.
“I can’t. At home… at my family’s home we would always be doing some kind of chore especially since our papa is getting older and can’t do a lot without getting hurt and prefers to be working on clocks as well as any other item that need to be fixed,” you smile, thinking about it.
“I hope they’re all okay.”
“I’m sure they are,” Miss Potts tries her best to reassure you.
You shrug, “perhaps.” You push yourself out of the chair. “Excuse me, you two have lessons you should be doing.”
You exit the room in search of something else to do.
-
The tall beast managed to scurry away before you could get closer.
Nick watches from a distance, realizing how sad you must be... away from your family. He knows what he needs to do.
-
You stand in the very same ballroom that continues to haunt your dreams. You hadn’t the faintest idea who the woman is in your dreams, and it makes you sad when you think about it because after learning about how Bradley’s mother passed, you believe it’s her.
You just- you don’t know why she’s haunting you in your dreams. You take a second and close your eyes, thinking back to when you would dance with your brothers and sisters.
It was a happy time; none of you had nearly as many responsibilities as you do now.
“What are you doing?”
You flinch, not expecting anyone else to be here. “Uh,” you spin around, staring at him. “Nothing?”
Nick raises a brow, “it didn’t look like nothing.”
“I was- uh- just- uh-”
He continues to stare at you, waiting for your response.
“I was… just remembering when my siblings taught me how to dance.”
“Oh.”
“We always dreamed of being grownups and dancing in such a magnificent ballroom, you know, like yours.”
“Would you…” His words become quieter making it harder for you to hear. “I was wondering if you- if you wanted to dance?”
He hasn’t been this nervous to ask someone to dance in a long time.
Maybe it was a good thing.
Your lips form into an “O” shape. “Or not, I get it-” “I would love to.”
With the way you two stare at one another, it’s clear to see how surprised both of you are.
“Tonight?” “After dinner?” You two ask at the same time, chuckling at one another’s response.
“After dinner,” you nod.
“I’ll see you then.”
-
You run in the direction of your room, needing to change into something more suitable for dancing.
Dinner was wonderful as always but this one seemed to be more special than any previous meals.
You slowly walk down the staircase, seeing Nick across the way. A small smile gracing your lips, your heart races at the thought of dancing with him.
It scares you, how excited you are to dance with someone who wreaked havoc into your life.
He holds his hand out, waiting for you to come down the last few steps.
You slowly place your hand into his much larger paw, guiding you down the final staircase.
He carefully steps forward, not wanting to overstep his boundaries or startle you.
You step forward, leaving the proper amount of distance between you two.
He leads, taking a step forward, you take one backwards, continuing this until he changes things and spins you around.
You’re free as you continue dancing with him, not thinking of anything else other than the fact that you’re enjoying yourself at this moment, more than you have in a long time.
Once it’s over he invites you to his library, the one place Pete and Bradley were nice enough to show you the other day.
Part of you wished you could have read something with him…
‘Maybe another time.’
“I have something I want to show you.”
You follow him without saying another word, curiosity overpowering any other thought you have.
-
“The one who cursed me gave me this, along with a few other things as you know.”
You reach out to touch the book but pull away before you could. “What does it do?”
“It’s a cruel joke.”
“Why?”
“It was designed to take me anywhere in the world, show the world of the beast that I am.”
“And you chose to show me, why?”
“I think it’s time I- I show you I can be the person they tell you I am.”
“And who is that?”
“Someone who can brighten someone’s mood when they’re upset.”
You smile to yourself, maybe you haven’t given him the benefit of the doubt.
Yet again, all you’ve ever come to know with him is his anger, you haven’t been given much of an opportunity to see any other side of him.
“Where to?”
You whisper, your family’s old home. Where you lived when you were only a few months old.
You look around, a sad expression on your face as you see the unfinished work, unmade bed, and the closed trunk off to the side.
“Oh, Paris? Interesting choice,” Nick comments, not paying all that much attention to you. “Should we go see the Ei-” He turns around. “What’s wrong?”
You wipe your cheek. “It’s- I- this was my home when I was- uh- when I was younger. This was the last place I ever saw my mama.”
“Why is that?”
You can’t find it in you to answer him as you find a special rose pen that you know belonged to her.
“This is a doctors mask.”
You nod, gulping down whatever spit had built up in your mouth, although you know what happened to her that doesn’t stop you from answering any questions he may have. “She was sick, and we had to leave. We- we couldn’t stay here.”
You wipe the corner of your eye. “I never knew what our first home looked like. I wanted to see the last place she was in before she passed. But I-” You take a deep breath.
“I understand. We can return, if you’d like.”
You nod, “please.”
You two return to the castle.
“I need to- I need-”
“You need to what?”
You spin around, looking at him. “I need to- to- to see my family.”
“What?” He whispers.
“I need to see my family. I- I need to see if they’re alright. I haven’t been able to see them in a long time. I’m worried about them. Please, if… if there is any compassion left in you, let me go see my family just- just this once and I will never ask you for anything again.”
He doesn’t respond nor does he make any movement.
“I- no- forget it, forget I said anything.”
He opens a drawer and pulls out a mirror. “Use this.”
“What?”
“If you wish it, you may see your family.”
“I- how does this work?”
“Another gift.”
You lift the mirror, “I wish to see my family,” you whisper.
An image of your family arguing with Gaston concerns you, more so when it pans on the man forcing your family in the back of a familiar wagon.
“No. No. No,” you mutter. “What is it?”
Nick comes to stand beside you, seeing the traumatizing scene. He knows what needs to happen, deep down, he would do the same if the tables were turned. “You need to go.”
“What?”
“You need to go help your family.”
“But I-”
He shakes his head, “it’s okay. I understand.”
“I will-”
“Don’t- don’t say anything. Your horse is going to get waiting outside.”
“I- I can’t thank you enough.” You bunch up the skirt of your dress in your hands, keeping hold of the mirror.
“Go.”
Your eyes fill with tears because of your family’s current predicament and the fact that you have to leave him.
“Thank you.” You don’t look back as you run down the hallway or down the stairs or out the doors, only when Peppermint is close to the broken forest entrance do you and it breaks your heart to watch the sad beast man hang off one of the roofs.
It reminds you of the first time you saw him.
“Faster, Peppermint,” you crack the reins.
-
“I was the one who had it all,” he mumbles when your figure gets further away from the castle.
He slumps down, mindlessly wandering through the castle.
“Father?”
He turns, placing one paw on the staircase railing. “Bradley?”
“Where is she going?”
“To her family.” He returns to his previous task and continues up the stairs.
“You let her go?” Pete asks, unsure if he could believe it.
“He loves her too much to keep her when she’s clearly needed elsewhere,” Miss Potts adds.
“Oh.”
“Are we ever going to become human?” Chip asks.
“I don’t know, Chip,” she responds.
-
You keep your attention focused in front of you.
You don't know how much further you have to go but you know that you're close, you can sense your family is near as Peppermint gallops closer towards the entrance of the village.
As soon as she makes it through the entrance of the village, you immediately hear the cries for help from your family members and the angry comments coming from the villagers (who never liked you or your family ever since you arrived).
When Peppermint swerves around the wagon you immediately hop off with no sense of the possibility of accidentally injuring yourself.
Your only concern is your family’s safety.
You swirl around to face Gaston with an expression of rage clear on your face.
He immediately ignores it, of course.
“I command that you let my family go,” you say angrily as you stare into his cold eyes.
“They've done nothing wrong. Why must you do this to us we've done nothing wrong to you or anyone else. My sister has cared for you for all this time, and you treat her like this? Have you no compassion?”
He lets out an airy chuckle, one that makes you uncomfortable. Of course, he does; he's never taken a woman seriously a day in his life and why would he start now.
His uncaring attitude earns chuckles from a few of the villagers behind you, but you don't pay attention to them. “Why would I listen to a woman like you or your sister?” He grins at you, it’s the kind to send a shiver down your spine, dare you say it appears to be a sinister smirk.
The more he talks the more it annoys you and feeds into your anger, but you stop and think, realizing you can't let this anger get the best of you because if you do, you may lose your family forever, and you will not let it happen.
“Why is it that you’ve locked up my family?” You ask him, thinking it’d be best to ask him straightforwardly instead of waiting for when he’ll throw you into the wagon, leaving you to rot with your family.
You can’t let this happen; you have to return to the one… you hold dear to you. Your heart aches, you have much more to lose than just your family here. Again, he chuckles, now it’s not nearly as evil as the first one and yet it still sends a shiver down your spine.
“You know,” he starts off, “your father- he- uh- he seems to have lost his mind. Why you ask? Well,” he pauses clearly trying to come up with a lie for the villagers to believe.
As much as you hate to admit it, the villagers would probably believe anything he says because he's a war hero, meaning they respect him too much to disagree.
Or maybe because they fear for their safety and their lives since they know what he’s capable of.
“You see,” he begins again. “Mike has begun to say some strange things which raises alarm about his mind.” He fakes sympathy when he says, “we fear for the safety of you and your family.”
You know he's lying, but how can you prove it when none of the villagers have ever liked you?
Is that why he’s saying these things because he knows none of them will believe you if you try to tell the truth?
Why would they believe you when you say it is Gaston who has lost his mind and not your papa?
You gulp down whatever saliva has built up in your mouth, your hands are sweaty, leaving marks on the mirror as you tighten your grip. “Why- why do you think my father has lost his mind?” You weakly ask, having a feeling about what he's going to say.
“Well, it’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?” Gaston starts with a knowing tone and a supercilious stance.
You hate it.
He slaps his hand on the wagon door, alarming your family.
They all look up through the tiny window to see you there with no wounds and not looking as if death is waiting for you (as few have thought a few times since you’ve been gone).
Their concerning expressions slowly diminish at the site of you and soon their brows furrow, you know it's because of the way you're dressed and the fact that you're not dead because of some beast that your father had seen.
They slowly begin to believe him more now.
You immediately rushed towards the wagon; your hands touched the wood door as if you were trying to touch your family members themselves.
You wonder if it would be wise to try and break the lock now but know that if you do then something bad will happen. And you don’t know if the villagers will try to remove you from them or if Gaston will order something else to occur; the thought of any of it happening scares you.
‘Maybe,’ you think. ‘Maybe it would be wise to “listen” to what he has to say and play along with his games until it’s over.’
You lean in whispering, “I will get you out of here, you will be free, and we will be together, but I need you to trust me. Can you do that?”
Tom and Rick glance at one another, they have some idea as to what you may ask of them, but it still raises alarms in their heads.
Maybe it would have been best for you to not ask them for help but what else can you do in this dire situation?
You turned to see your sister’s nod knowing that they’ll follow orders to get out and regain their freedom.
Poor Penny is crying along with Charlotte but the second oldest of the two is more heartbroken than any of you... which, of course, makes sense since she believed that she was in love with Gaston, and he returned those feelings. It pains her to think that he used her.
As much as she wishes to weep, she knows she cannot at this time.
She pushes all her thoughts about him aside, knowing that she needs to be focused so she can listen to what you have to say and help the rest of them get out.
For once, neither of your brothers nor your Papa say anything as you whisper to them a foolproof plan.
The man who can eat far too many eggs (for your comfort), pulls you back and away from your family, you jerk your arm within his grasp trying to get away from him.
As you struggle to remove yourself from him, he manages to grab the one thing that you brought with you from the castle.
When you see what he has in his hands, you gasp.
He’s going to figure out how to use it and show everyone the beast Nick.
You can’t let it happen, they can’t see him; if they do, they’re only going to want to hurt him, and you won’t- you don’t know if you’d survive that. You reach for it only for the irksome man to raise his arm, keeping it away from being within your reach.
“Give it back to me, Gaston. It’s not yours.”
“It doesn’t look like it’s yours either.”
“It is- give it back.”
“No.” He lowers his hand, inspecting it himself. “How do you use it?”
“I’m not going to tell you that.”
“It’ll save you and your family.”
“No.”
“You don’t care about their safety? Some daughter slash sister, you are.”
You groan, reaching for it again. “I need it. Give it to me.”
The same smirk he gave you hasn’t left his face once since you arrived, it only became worse as time went on, just like now. “Show me the beast.”
An image of the sad beast pops up.
“Look,” he spins it around, showing the others.
“Look at his fangs. Those horns. His claws. He will kill us all if we don’t do something about it first.”
“NO!” You cry out.
“Kill the beast!”
“Stop it!”
Gaston grabs your arm. “Le Fou, open the door.”
He does as the larger man tells him to.
“Stop- don’t listen- please,” you struggle to fight his grasp. “Let me go! You’re making a mistake. He is kind and- and he has a family. He wouldn’t harm any of you unless provoked.”
The man scoffs, “you’ve fallen for such a hideous beast. Have you no shame.” He snickers, glancing over at your sisters. “Good thing I didn’t bring myself down to your level and marry one of your sisters. I would die if I was intertwined with such nonsense.”
-
As soon as you're tossed inside, the door closes, you slam your hands onto the door, not caring about getting a splinter. “Let me out! Let me out! He’s not the beast you think he is!”
“Belle.” “Belle.” Your family calls out for you, pulling you away from the door.
“I think there are a few other things we need to worry about.” Mike holds you in his arms. “Breath, sweetheart. I need you to take deep breaths so we can help you. We can’t understand you, if all you do is scream and plead.”
“He is not who you think he is. He is a kind man who had been upset for a long time and if I don’t get back, they’ll- they’ll-” You wipe away your tears and reach into the corset of your dress, pulling out a small rod. “Use this to pick the lock.”
He gives you an impressive look. “I knew I taught you well.”
“Hurry up,” your brothers say to him.
He shrugs them off and continues to pick at the lock.
Once it clicks open, it falls to the ground.
He pushes the door open, purposefully bumping into the man that Gaston assigned to stand guard.
Your brothers push themselves out and grab the man, forcing him inside.
“Grab the lock,” Tom tells Charlotte.
She grabs it and quickly clicks it into place.
“Not all of us are going to be able to get to the castle on your horse,” says Rick.
“Not all of us have to go.”
“But-”
Numerous neighs disrupt your minor argument.
“Looks like we won’t need to worry,” Penny comments. “Come on.”
“No,” Mike pushes you towards your horse. “You go. We’ll be right behind you.”
“What?”
“I can see it, you know.”
“See what?”
“Your eyes, she had those eyes from the moment we meant up until the very end. You’ve found love within him. You can save him, but you must be quick.”
You crack the reins and take off.
-
“Please take care of him,” you hear as you pass through the entrance.
You know its late wife calling out to you.
There’s no other reason for her to be doing this, if she didn’t want her family to be happy and the least you could do is respect her wishes.
“I promise,” you whisper.
-
You arrive at the sound of angry shouts and echoing gunshots.
You look up and find it’s the beast Nick to be the target. “No,” you mumble and run up the stairs.
The cries of a young boy follow behind you, you turn to find the young prince flying, catching him before anything bad could happen to him. “Bradley. What were you doing?”
“I’m defending my home.”
“You can’t be doing things as dangerous as that. What would-”
Another echo.
Your head snaps in the direction of the forbidden west wing. You tighten your grip on the boy and run. “Gaston! Stop this!”
Nick’s head snaps in your direction, he whispers your name before pushing himself back to jump in your direction.
He grabs one of your hands, being careful not to do anything too fast to harm his son. “You returned,” he mumbles, face full of shock and awe.
You nod. “I did.”
He grunts, falling to his knees.
Your head turns to see the smug smirk hanging from his lips.
“Stop,” You place Bradley on the ground before putting yourself between the hunter and Nick.
“What are you doing?”
“I will not let you die at the hands of this man.”
Gaston throws his head back and lets out a hearty, belly aching laugh. “You’re protecting this- this beast but not those of your kind?”
“He has been kinder than you ever have!”
“I doubt that. Now, move out of the way and let me kill my latest prey so I can-” the bridge beneath him begins to crack but he pays no attention to it. “Finish him off and hang his head on my wall.”
Just as his finger touches the trigger, the bridge gives out beneath him; he couldn’t run away if he tried to.
Your eyes widen, not looking down too frightened to see him lay dead on the ground.
Although his personality was brutish and vile, it is still a human being that died today.
You spin around, checking on him.
“You're bleeding too much. We must get you medical attention.”
“I don’t- it’s time.”
“No,” you shake your head, in denial. “We can get you help and-”
He grabs your hand. “I don’t have much time now. I can feel myself slipping away.”
“N- no, you don’t- you don’t feel it. Don’t say that. What about- oh, Bradley,” you lift the teacup carefully before placing him on Nick’s abdomen.
“Bradley.”
“What about the curse?”
“It’s too,” he closes his eyes, letting out a deep and slow exhale. “We’re out of time.”
“But she can-”
“No.”
-
Sam walks up the stairs, not giving anyone a second glance.
He knows exactly where to go and what’s happened between the two of you, but his curse is in place and it’s up to you now to break it.
-
The ground shakes violently as the last petal falls.
More than half the staff have become a stiffened furniture version of who they used to be, Pete, Marcus, and Leonard were the last ones.
Leonard waves one last time before rocking side to side as he takes his final form.
Pete turns to Marcus, prepared to make a final speech but can’t find it in him to do so.
“Until we meet again,” he whispers, to the antique clock.
-
Nick and you begin sobbing as Bradley’s face is wiped away and he looks like a real, non-living teacup.
“Please don’t leave me,” you whisper, holding his cheek, wiping away his tears.
“Could you- could you ever find it in you to love a beast like me?”
You sniffle, “I can’t.”
“I... see.”
The life drains from his eyes after hearing those words.
You gasp, covering your mouth.
The last words he will ever hear from you are a lie.
“I already do,” you whisper as tears trickle down your cheeks, landing on one of the few blood stains of his shirt.
You continue to weep onto him until your family arrives and pulls you away. You lean onto your father and wet his shoulder with your love and grief-stricken tears.
You can’t help but think, had Gaston moved his arm a few inches to the left, he would have killed Nick instantly, forbidding you from having those last few seconds with him.
A gasp is all that enters your ears before your sisters tug on the sleeves of your dress.
“Stop tugging on-” Tom stops talking at the interesting sight.
“Tom, what- holy sh-” Rick stops when he sees what his siblings see.
“Belle,” it whispers.
“No,” you shake your head.
“The curse is fooling me,” you mutter.
“Darling, you need to look up.”
You open your eyes, glancing at your father.
He gestures for you to turn towards where the love of your life lays, dead.
You do as everyone wants you to and your jaw drops. “No.”
“It’s me.”
“No.” He whispers your name. “You’re not real.” He takes a step forward, his hand cupping your cheek.
“You saved me.”
“No- I- I didn’t.”
“You did. You saved us.”
A light tug on the skirt of your dress alerts you. You look down and find a young boy standing there. Your eyes water as you bend down, standing on your knees. “Bradley?”
He nods, a nervous smile gracing his lips. “Oh my- you- your both-” He can’t hold himself back and launches himself into your arms.
You gasp and let out an airy chuckle as you squeeze the boy.
The king kneels on one knee beside you two, petting the back of his son's head. His eyes focused on nothing but the two of you.
You lean over and let yourself fall into his embrace with Bradley since he won’t let go. “You’re here.”
“I am,” he mumbles into your hair. “We need to get up though. I need to see if everyone is all right.”
Tom and Rick help you get up, giving Bradley the ability to maneuver himself tighter onto you.
-
You all walk downstairs to see everyone hugging. “What happened?”
“The warlock who cursed us, erased us from the villagers' minds.”
“Oh.”
“Shouldn’t he be clinging to you instead of me?”
The man only grins in return. “He likes you.”
You narrow your eyes to him. “Don’t make him sound like a dog.”
A fake beast-like growl comes from his chest. “I’m not. I’d never do that to my boy.”
“Okay.”
-
He searches for someone in the crowd in front of the castle.
“Goose!”
“Mav!”
The two men run towards one another, hugging each other tightly.
Rick leans down to whisper, “shouldn’t he be embracing you like that?”
“I have Bradley to make up for it.”
“But-”
“Quiet, Rick.”
Your brother raises his arms, backing away.
They release one another and Pete walks closer towards you two. “I knew it.”
“Knew what?”
“I knew it would be you who would break the curse and get the scary beast to become a fluff ball again.”
“Ah.”
“No more talking.” Nick pushes himself between you two. “We have a celebration to plan.”
“We do?” You ask.
“Yep.”
“Like what?”
“The reunion of our people, a potential courtship, and the celebration of Bradley’s birthday.”
“What was that?”
“What was what?”
“What you just said there, you know the thing about a potential courtship?”
“Oh,” he lets out a soft chuckle, “you mean that thing? That’s a- that’s nothing,” he quickly adds trying to brush it off.
“It’s not nothing if you felt the need to mention it,” you point out.
The surprised look on his face lets you know he's been caught.
The snickers from your brothers, Pete and Leonard around you don’t help him either.
“I liked it better when you didn’t talk,” Nick tells him.
“We all know you’re lying. And you’ve missed my voice,” Leonard teases him.
Marcus shakes his head.
Part of him feels as though he shouldn’t have mentioned it now, like maybe Nick should have waited but the other part of him was just too excited to hold it in any longer.
He hasn’t felt this way in a long time and he’s going to bask in every moment for as long as he can which is probably why he quickly added the word, potential.
He glances down at you once more and the look on your face tells him otherwise.
Dare he say, you’re happy at the thought of being in a courtship with him? If not that, then he’s putting too much thought into it but, he knows you.
He can’t hold back any longer and takes a step forward, cupping your cheek before leaning in to place a gentle kiss on your lips, slowly deepening until he pulls away for air.
For you, it was more than enough in that moment… until your siblings let out fake gagging noises behind you.
Everyone takes their time returning to the village, wanting to use every moment to rekindle and rebuild relationships that have… been on hold.
The last few to take their leave is your family, only after giving you long hugs, muttering kind remarks while your second oldest brother makes jokes.
-
You turn to the side and find familiar faces.
Sam and Carole watch all of you with happy smiles on their faces.
The warlock guides the woman closer to the forest before they disappear.
To this day, you still don’t know if what you saw was real or not.
-
A few months later you and Nick are engaged, the weddings coming up faster than you realize.
Bradley runs around the hallways with Chip, their laughter bringing a sense of peace for you and your fiancé.
“Hello,” he says, reaching for your hand as he kisses your knuckles.
“It’s never going away, is it?”
He chuckles. “I happen to find that to be very rude you know. I’ve been working on this for a long time,” he pets his mustache.
“I know,” you nod. “It was there the same time I was here, maybe longer.”
“And it's here to stay.” He pauses, his lips tugging upwards into a playful smirk. “How would you feel about Bradley having one when he’s older?”
“Did that curse take away your brain too?”
He scoffs, “I’m serious.”
“So am I.” You sigh, “I don’t think he’ll follow in your footsteps.”
The boys come rushing up the stairs, coming to a halt before they could run into either of you.
“Mama, look.”
Your left eye twitches. “Oh, how fun. Please make sure your mustaches are off before dinner.”
They nod and take off.
You turn to him, narrowing your eyes at his pathetic excuse of hiding his amusement. “You are evil.”
“I am not. He got that idea all on his own.”
“He is your son.” You turn and walk away, feeling that enough was said and he would understand.
“I thought he was ours?”
“Until that mustache is off, you’re claiming him.”
He grumbles under his breath, whispering his sons name. “Bradley. Bradley.”
-
A few months later you and Nick are officially married and during the big dance, Pete and Penny announce their courtship (which was no surprise) before the night was over.
Tom found himself a nice young woman, Sarah, who is his current business partners sister.
They settle down in town so they’re close to family and for him to be able to continue with his business.
Rick met a nice young woman, Antoinette while he went to the neighboring village to get a new saddle for his horse, Wood (gifted to him by your husband).
Charlotte wants to go off and live the life your mother couldn’t, travel and share her art skills with the world, not quite ready to settle down yet… until a year later when she returned home engaged to a man named Adam.
By that time, you had your first daughter, Sydney-Carole (named after your mother and Bradley’s). He was so happy to hold his little sister, always careful and sitting somewhere since he was still a small child.
Pete and Penny married shortly after your second daughter; Aline was born.
Tom and Sarah moved a few towns away when she became pregnant with their second child.
Right around that time, Rick and Antoinette decided it was time to go to back to her hometown when she got word of her sick father.
Charlotte and Adam stay in the same house as your father, helping him and selling her art until he passes.
By the time Bradley and Chip were thirteen, Sydney-Carole becoming an energetic eight-year-old, and Aline barely turning five; it was a big surprise when you found out you were pregnant again, this time birthing a boy, Phillipe.
Nick was happy to hear that there was finally gonna be another Bradshaw boy in family.
Bradley was happy that he would be able to have someone he could pass off his “wisdom” too (a thought he got from his father).
-
As you watch the kids run around in the garden, you can’t help but wonder how different things could have been had you not asked for that rose and realize, you wouldn’t trade anything in the world to not be where you are now.
Nick exits the back and stands beside you, enjoying the sight of all the children playing together while you bask in the peace of knowing that this is what your papa would have wanted.
All his grown children still having monthly dinners so that parents could bond and chat while the children play.
comfort characters ~~~ | natasha 'phoenix' trace | cora vasquez | emma brunner | robert 'bob' floyd | jake 'hangman' seresin | bradley 'rooster' bradshaw | mickey 'fanboy' garcia | nick 'goose' bradshaw | carole bradshaw | tom 'iceman' kazansky | ron ‘slider’ kerner | rick 'hollywood' neven | leonard 'wolfman' wolfe | jordan alexander | tc callahan | shannon rivera | krista bell-hart | lucy chen | rosa diaz | kate bishop |
things I love!! ~~~ | ducks | winnie the pooh | kangaroos | bluey | space | the ocean | crocodile hunter | 64 zoo lane | rubbadubbers | pingu | peep and the big wide world
☆♡ talk to me anytime on here (small or big!!) or over on @mvngokkwritings!! ♡☆
Guillaume Van der Stighelen: “Wow, dacht ik, ik ben met iets échts bezig.”
Dit stuk verscheen op 11 februari in Zeno, de weekendbijlage van De Morgen.
Na carrières als cafébaas en reclamemaker debuteert Guillaume Van der Stighelen (67) als romanschrijver. En dat had hij misschien eerder moeten doen. "Tijdens het schrijven van Rozeke dacht ik: ah bon, hiér ben ik dus voor gemaakt.'"
Ik heb met Guillaume Van der Stighelen afgesproken in Madonna: het restaurant van het gerenoveerde Koninklijk Museum voor Schone Kunsten in Antwerpen. Er druppelt lichte jazz uit de boxen, de gasten voeren gedempte conversaties over de penseelvoering van Rogier van der Weyden, de gevreesde fusie met het van hedendaagsheid stuiterende M HKA is nog ver weg.
De Madonna-serveersters geven ons een middag lang het gevoel dat we het stralende middelpunt van hun leven zijn. 'Lieve heren, het was een voorrecht jullie te mogen bedienen', schrijft één van hen op de rekening die ze ons na de lunch overhandigt. Van der Stighelen, op zijn 67ste nog altijd un beau garçon, laat de voorzet niet liggen: 'Je hebt je telefoonnummer er niet bijgeschreven.'
Toch zijn we niet naar hier gekomen om ons te laven aan gekarameliseerde complimenten, maar om te praten over Rozeke, de debuutroman van Van der Stighelen die zich - u dacht toch niet dat interviewlocaties met de natte vinger gekozen werden? - afspeelt in de periode waarin het KMSKA gebouwd werd: de belle époque, door geschiedkundigen gestationeerd tussen het einde van de negentiende eeuw en het begin van de Eerste Wereldoorlog.
In Rozeke - de titel moet om spoiler alert-redenen onverklaard blijven - vertelt Van der Stighelen het grotendeels fictieve levensverhaal van de overgrootvader naar wie hij vernoemd is: Guillaume 'Gwillemke' Van der Stighelen. Gwillemke groeit op als een verlegen jongen in een armoedig gezin, maar maakt in het Antwerpen van de belle époque fortuin als sanitair ondernemer. Hij wordt de spil van een koterrijke familie, 'met zonen en dochters, kleinkinderen en achterkleinkinderen, neven en nichten en aangetrouwd grut'. Toch moet hij op het einde van zijn leven vaststellen dat hij 'een mislukt mens' is: een terminaal verbitterde grijsaard, ingehaald door onderdrukt, maar daarom niet minder reëel verdriet.
Guillaume van der Stighelen - de schrijver, niet de overgrootvader - trekt in Rozeke alle registers van de klassieke vertelkunst open: hij laat de lach en de traan heerlijke pas de deuxs dansen, dompelt je onder in het zichzelf haast voorbijhollende tijdperk van de belle époque en geeft het verhaal van zijn overgrootvader een Tarantinoesque vaart: de levens- en plotwendingen volgen elkaar in een strak tempo op. Waar voor je geld, zou een beetje boekhandelaar zeggen, en daar zou een beetje boekhandelaar groot gelijk in hebben.
Van der Stighelen, in een vorig leven een begenadigd reclamemaker, is niet alleen als schrijver, maar ook als geïnterviewde een rasverteller. Wanneer ik hem vraag hoe een mens op het idee komt om het levensverhaal van zijn overgrootvader bij elkaar te fantaseren, steekt hij de eerste van vele onderhoudende monologen af.
"Op een familiefeestje zei een tante ooit tegen me: 'Vroeger kon je in de opera op jouw naam pissen.' Ik dacht: 'Ze zal wat zattekes zijn.' (lacht) Maar wat later kwam ik er achter dat mijn overgrootvader een succesvol sanitair ondernemer is geweest en dat er in de opera van Antwerpen urinoirs hebben gehangen waarin 'Ets. Guillaume Van der Stighelen' gegraveerd stond. Dat is me altijd bijgebleven. Ik vroeg me af: wie is die man?"
"Een andere tante vertelde me dat mijn overgrootvader na de Eerste Wereldoorlog alle sanitaire werken in Antwerpen had mogen uitvoeren omdat hij nooit met de Duitsers had samengewerkt. Waarop weer een ander familielid smalend zei: 'Hij heeft het nochtans hard genoeg geprobeerd.' (lacht) Mijn overgrootvader was dus geen toonbeeld van rechtlijnigheid: ook dat prikkelde mijn nieuwsgierigheid."
"Wat me nog meer intrigeerde, was dat er in de familie Van der Stighelen duidelijk onenigheid was geweest. Mijn tante nonneke, de oudste kleindochter van mijn overgroot-vader, hield albums bij waarin ze elk geboortekaartje, elke huwelijksaankondiging en elke doodsbrief bewaarde. Heel mijn familie was in die albums vertegenwoordigd, behalve mijn overgrootvader: als je de plakboeken van mijn tante nonneke moest geloven, had hij nooit bestaan. Met andere woorden: de Van der Stighelens hadden ambras gehad en ik wilde weten waarom."
"En het laatste wat mij fascineerde, was dat mijn overgrootvader de eerste weken van de Eerste Wereldoorlog had meegemaakt. In Antwerpen was dat een waanzinnige periode: Albert I woonde op de Meir, Churchill en de Amerikanen logeerden in de grote Antwerpse hotels, de Duitsers lieten de stad min of meer gerust, er werd elke dag gefeest, de sfeer was euforisch. Tot Churchill besloot om met zijn kanonnen op de achterhoede van het Duitse leger te schieten. Toen zijn de Duitsers teruggekeerd om Antwerpen, dat ze eigenlijk niet echt nodig hadden, alsnog te vernielen. Ik wilde achterhalen wat mijn overgrootvader in die legendarische weken tussen augustus en oktober 1914 precies aan het doen was. En vooral: welk plan hij had om de oorlog te overleven."
"Op zoek naar informatie moest ik vaststellen dat er over de belle époque, hoewel het een periode van grote welvaart en maatschappelijke vooruitgang was, verrassend weinig literatuur bestaat. Gelukkig kwam ik via Herman Van Goethem (rector van de Universiteit Antwerpen, red.) in contact met iemand die een scriptie had geschreven over de ontwikkeling van het sanitair in de negentiende eeuw. En een tijdje later raakte ik in gesprek met één van de auteurs van de biografie van Marie-Elisabeth Belpaire: moeder van de Vlaamse beweging én tijdgenote van mijn overgrootvader. Zo kwam ik beetje bij beetje meer te weten over de periode waarin mijn overgrootvader geleefd had."
Wilde je aanvankelijk een non-fictieboek over je overgrootvader schrijven? Of was fictie van meet af aan het opzet en je overgrootvader slechts de aanleiding?
"In het begin werkte ik uitsluitend met de informatie die ik al researchend bij elkaar sprokkelde. Maar op een gegeven moment ging mijn verbeelding met mijn hoofdrolspelers aan de haal: ik begon volledige episodes uit hun levens te verzinnen. In die schemerzone tussen fictie en non-fictie, heeft mijn vriend Thomas Siffer (journalist en ondernemer, red.) me tot een keuze gedwongen: 'Ga je een journalistiek werk maken of een roman schrijven?' Toen heb ik besloten: het kan me niet meer schelen wat er echt gebeurd is, ik ga voor fictie. Ik had al zoveel verzonnen, ik had geen zin meer om mijn verhaal aan te passen aan de historische realiteit. Guillaume Van der Stighelen stopte met mijn overgrootvader te zijn en werd een romanpersonage."
Je overgrootvader heeft een bewogen leven geleid: hij rukte zich los uit zijn armoedige milieu en werd een welvarend ondernemer; hij trouwde, maar bleef een leven lang verlangen naar iemand anders; hij stond aan het hoofd van een grote familie, maar raakte verwikkeld in tal van conflicten met zijn eigen nageslacht; hij werd vaker met de dood geconfronteerd dan hem lief was; en op de koop toe moest hij toezien hij zijn levenswerk verkruimelde en zijn bloedverwanten zich van hem afkeerden. Kon hij zijn eigen leven niet aan? Woog hij te licht voor wat het lot voor hem in petto had?
"Mijn overgrootvader was als zakenman een fenomeen: hij was een visionair denker én een harde werker. Alleen maakte hij de fout om te denken dat hij in élk aspect van het leven uitblonk. Daardoor beging hij de grootste stommiteiten die je in een mensenleven kan begaan. Je eigen kinderen verloochenen, bijvoorbeeld. In mijn boek laat ik hem op een gegeven moment zeggen: 'Ik heb in mijn leven niks verkeerds gedaan. Niemand bestolen, niemand belogen, nooit mijn vrouw bedrogen. En toch zullen ze na mijn dood over mij zeggen: 'Wat een klootzak ligt hier.' Dát is de tragedie van mijn overgrootvader: hij bedoelde het goed, maar deed zelden het goede. Zijn manier om de wereld te redden, bleek de wereld juist om zeep te helpen."
Heb jij in je glorierijke reclamejaren ooit tegen hubris moeten vechten? Tegen gedachten als: 'Ik heb zoveel succes, ik zal wel een allround genie zijn, zeker?'
"Nee. Maar ik heb dan ook een vrouw die nooit heeft nagelaten om mij te wijzen op de dingen waar ik niét goed in was." (lacht)
Ondanks zijn consequente falen beschrijf je je overgrootvader met veel mededogen. Is dat het perspectief van de 67-jarige, die weet dat mensen nooit alleen maar goed of slecht zijn?
"Ik heb dat altijd al geweten. Als kind heb ik veel slaag gekregen van mijn vader. Op de duur voelde ik niks meer als hij mij weer eens aan het aframmelen was. Ik dacht alleen maar: wat heeft die man in godsnaam meegemaakt dat hij er plezier in schept om zijn eigen zoon te slaan? En hoe gaat hij zijn gedrag aan zichzelf uitleggen als hij straks, verteerd door schuldgevoelens, in bed ligt te huilen? Net zoals mijn overgrootvader heeft mijn vader nooit de intentie gehad om een verdorven mens te zijn. Maar ze gingen beiden gebukt onder een groot emotioneel onvermogen. Ze wilden wel goed zijn voor hun naasten, maar het lukte hen gewoon niet. Ze slaagden er niet in om tot de essentie van mensen door te dringen, om te begrijpen waar hun geliefden écht behoefte aan hadden. Met alle frustraties en conflicten vandien."
Rozeke speelt zich af in de belle époque, een tijdperk waarin de innovaties elkaar in een snel tempo opvolgden: latrines werden vervangen door wc's, koetsen door auto's, verkeersregelende agenten door electrische verkeerslichten. Ook toen al stuitten vernieuwingen op weerstand. Zo noemt de notaris in je boek de verkeerslichten een pesterij van de socialisten omdat 'die dingen geen onderscheid maken tussen simpele stootkarren en chique Minerva's'. 'Ze gaan er hier een klein Rusland van maken', klaagt hij. En ook: 'Met het parlement kunt ge daar niks tegen doen, ge hebt daar soldaten voor nodig.' Het doet denken aan de tirades die je vandaag weleens op sociale media leest.
(knikt) "Rozeke vertoont wel meer raakvlakken met het heden. In het begin van het boek woedt er in Antwerpen een cholera-epidemie. Tijdens mijn historisch onderzoek viel me op dat de wetenschappers van de belle époque over de aanpak van de choleracrisis krek dezelfde debatten voerden als de wetenschappers van vandaag over de bestrijding van de covid-pandemie. (enthousiast) Wist je trouwens dat de vrouwen van de burgerij met hun liefdadigheidsprojecten de fundamenten hebben gelegd van wat we vandaag maatschap-pelijk werk noemen? Marie-Elisabeth Belpaire bijvoorbeeld, heeft haar leven gewijd aan de ontwikkeling van een degelijke meisjesopleiding in Vlaanderen: ze stichtte de Sint-Lutgardisschool in Antwerpen. Iemand zou over de dames van de burgerij en hun maatschappijvormende werk eens een boek moeten schrijven. Waarom ik het zelf niet doe? Omdat het bij mij niet lang zou duren voor het verhaal weer één grote leugen wordt. Ik zou niet schrijven hoe Marie-Elisabeth Belpaire écht was, maar hoe ze volgens mij had moéten zijn." (lacht)
De manier waarop de liefde in Rozeke beleden wordt, staat ver af van de romcomkijk op relaties: je personages beschouwen hun huwelijken niet als romantische, maar als pragmatische aangelegenheden.
"'Le coeur, c'est le diable', zegt Guillaume. Hij is ervan overtuigd dat de duivel een spel speelt met zijn hart. En dus verzet hij zich tegen zijn emoties. Ook al moet hij zich ter ontlading regelmatig gaan aftrekken in de toiletten van zijn stamcafé. (lacht) In wezen is Guillaume een gevoelige, poëtische man. De belle époque is niet voor niks het tijdperk van de romantiek, van de zwaarmoedigheid, van dichters zoals Baudelaire. Maar op een gege-ven moment komt er tegen die zogenaamde décadence verzet. Een beetje zoals er nu mensen zijn die beweren dat de soixante-huitards met hun naïeve dromen de wereld naar de kloten hebben geholpen. Ook Guillaume wordt gaandeweg een pleitbezorger van zakelijkheid en nuchterheid: hij komt in opstand tegen zijn eigen emoties en definieert intelligentie als 'je niet laten leiden door je gevoelens'. Verdriet gaat in zijn ogen alleen weg als je er niet over praat."
Een opvatting die in deze contreien nog altijd gangbaar is. Toen jij in 2011 je zoon Mattias verloor en je heel open was over je verdriet, werd dat ofwel vreemd ofwel moedig genoemd. Maar nooit vanzelfsprekend.
"Ik schreef in die periode een stuk voor De Morgen. Over hoe heilzaam het is om je verdriet te kunnen delen, om samen met andere mensen te kunnen rouwen. Na de publicatie van dat stuk kreeg ik een brief van een vrouw: 'Mijn man en ik hebben vijfentwintig jaar geleden ons dochtertje van zes verloren. Wij hebben er toen voor gekozen om te zwijgen en sterk te zijn. Maar na het lezen van je stuk, hebben we twee dagen aan een stuk geweend.' (stil) Vijfentwintig jaar zwijgen over de dood van je kind: hoe doé je dat? Elke boterham die je smeert, elke stoel die je verplaatst: álles doet je aan je betreurde dochter denken. En toch zwijg je. En blijf je zwijgen. (na een stilte) Mensen doen zich wat aan in de overtuiging dat ze het juiste doen."
De lichten in zijn ogen gaan even uit. We besluiten het interviewen tijdelijk voor bekeken te houden en gaan bij wijze van entr'acte de majestueuze inkomhal van het KMSKA taxeren. Zou overgrootvader Van der Stighelen hier ooit rondgelopen hebben? En zou hij dan een tempel van de schoonheid gezien hebben of een afzetgebied voor pispotten?
Terug aan tafel biedt Guillaume Van der Stighelen aan om de rollen om te draaien: hij de interviewer, ik het lijdend voorwerp. Ik bedank voor de eer, maar ben blij dat hij opnieuw de pensioengerechtigde jongen is van in het begin van ons gesprek.
'Het summum van een zondagskind', noemde hij zich lange tijd. Een kwalificatie die na het verlies van zijn zoon aan herziening toe was. Maar dat neemt niet weg dat er nog altijd veel is om - al dan niet in samenzang met Ingeborg - dankbaar voor te zijn. De veelzijdigheid waarmee hij standaard werd uitgerust, bijvoorbeeld. De voorbije dertig jaar heeft Guillaume Van der Stighelen een café gerund, cartoons getekend, reclame gemaakt, tv-programma's bedacht, non-fictie-boeken geschreven én voor een volle Lotto Arena gezongen (met De Grungblavers, de groep die in het Antwerps evergreens annexeert). En toch heeft hij naar eigen zeggen pas nu, in de indian summer van zijn leven, zijn ware lotsbestemming gevonden.
"Ik heb mij professioneel altijd kostelijk geamuseerd. Maar in mijn achterhoofd was er toch altijd de vraag: wat ga ik doen als ik groot ben? Tot ik Rozeke begon te schrijven. Voor het eerst in mijn leven dacht ik: 'Wow. Nu ben ik met iets échts bezig.'"
Waarom voelde het schrijven van Rozeke echter aan dan alles wat je in het verleden gedaan hebt?
(denkt na) "Ik ben altijd een beetje een toeschouwer van mijn eigen leven geweest. 'Kijk, Guillaume maakt reclame.' 'Kijk, Guillaume staat in de Lottto Arena.' Dat gevoel was tijdens het schrijven van Rozeke helemaal weg: ik was mezelf niet langer aan het observeren, ik viel volledig samen met wat ik aan het doen was. Ik dacht: ah bon, hiér ben ik dus voor gemaakt."
Waarom heeft het tot je 67ste geduurd voor je dat inzag? Je weet toch al langer dan vandaag dat je kan schrijven?
"Natuurlijk. Maar het was nog nooit in me opgekomen om fictie te schrijven. Ik dacht dat ik een 'opschrijver' was: iemand die in cursiefjes, opiniestukken en essays een beetje met de realiteit dolt. Maar tijdens het schrijven van Rozeke kwam ik er achter dat ik het eigenlijk veel leuker vind om dingen te verzinnen dan de werkelijkheid te becommentariëren. Zodra ik besloten had dat mijn boek een roman mocht zijn, is het schrijven echt een feest geworden. Rozeke heeft zichzelf geschreven. Dat was een openbaring."
De eerste versie van Rozeke telde meer dan negenhonderd pagina's, het boek dat straks in de winkel ligt nog een kleine vijfhonderd. Hoe schrap je bijna de helft van een verhaal zonder iets essentieels te verliezen?
"Ik heb een heel eenvoudige regel gehanteerd: zolang ik tijdens het herlezen van mijn manuscript vergat dat ik het verhaal zelf geschreven had, hoefde ik niks te schrappen, want dat betekende dat ik door mijn eigen boek betoverd werd. Maar zodra ik dacht 'nu is de schrijver aan het demonstreren dat hij zijn geschiedenis kent' of 'nu wil hij de inhoud van zijn taalkundige trukendoos etaleren', wist ik: deze bladzijde moet eruit. Ook het schrappen ging dus vanzelf."
Heeft je verleden als copywriter je op één of andere manier geholpen bij het schrijven van Rozeke?
"Als copywriter word je zo goed in het verwoorden van dingen dat alle remmingen om te schrijven wegvallen. Ik heb tijdens het schrijven van mijn roman geen moment een gevecht moeten leveren met de taal. De woorden boden zichzelf aan, ik hoefde maar te noteren wat mijn personages me influisterden."
Wat suggereert dat reclamemakers nog een andere vaardigheid hebben die handig is bij het verzinnen van verhalen: empathie. Het talent om zich in uiteenlopende mensen en situaties te verplaatsen.
"Er is tijdens mijn leven nochtans vaak aan mijn empathisch vermogen getwijfeld. De eerste keer dat ik samen met mijn vrouw in therapie ging, vroeg de therapeute mij: 'Guillaume, als je kinderen morgen thuiskomen met een tekening die jij lelijk vindt, wat zeg je dan?' Ik antwoordde: 'Ik kan me niet voorstellen dat mijn kinderen ooit met een lelijke tekening zullen thuiskomen. Maar als ze dat tóch zouden doen, zal ik ze zeggen dat hun tekening lelijk is. Ik ga ze toch niet aanmoedigen om nog méér van die mottige tekeningen te maken?' Waarop de therapeute besloot: 'Bon. Jouw taak is: meer empathie kweken.' (lacht) Maar eigenlijk wás ik al Mister Empathie. Beroepshalve dan toch: ik kon me moeiteloos inleven in om het even welke doelgroep van om het even welk bedrijf. Alleen: wanneer ik naar huis ging, liet ik mijn empathie op kantoor achter. Ik dacht: 'Ik ga mijn eigen vrouw toch niet benaderen als een consument? Als een doelgroep waarin ik me moet verplaatsen? Ze zal het me wel zeggen als er iets scheelt. Ze is er mondig genoeg voor.' Onze therapiesessies hebben uiteindelijk weinig veranderd: ik ben in ons huwelijk nog altijd de hufter. Maar alleen al het feit dat het probleem duidelijk bij mij ligt, houdt ons samen." (lacht)
Vanaf volgende week woon je in de boekenwinkel in de afdeling literatuur. Tussen - ik doe een gok - Walter van den Broeck en Adriaan van Dis. Ben je beducht voor literaire critici die vinden dat echte schrijvers geen reclameverleden horen te hebben?
"Ik laat de recensenten met plezier uitmaken of Rozeke een literaire voltreffer is of niet. Zelf ken ik te weinig van literatuur om te kunnen zeggen of een boek al dan niet literair is. Voor mij zijn boeken ofwel goed, ofwel slecht. Draaischijf van Tom Lanoye en Prachtige Ogen van Herman Brusselmans vind ik goeie boeken. Zijn het ook literaire werken? Geen idee. Ik weet oprecht niet wat dat is, 'een literair werk'. Als mensen met verstand van literatuur mijn roman straks 'literair' zullen noemen, zal ik dat in dank aanvaarden. Maar ik zal niet kunnen beoordelen of ze gelijk hebben."
Dus als je redacteur Wil Hansen, door David Van Reybrouck omschreven als ‘de meest invloedrijke redacteur van de afgelopen decennia', je roman bewierookt met de woorden 'Zo is schrijven bedoeld', vraag jij je af waar hij het in godsnaam over heeft?
"De reactie van Wil stelt me uiteraard gerust. Ik moet de complimenten die hij me gegeven heeft dringend nog eens uitprinten en boven mijn bed hangen. Maar ik ben geen literatuurkenner, nee. Nooit geweest. (na een korte stilte) Denk nu niet dat ik met mijn gebrek aan literaire bagage koketteer. Of dat ik me boven literaire experten verheven voel. Het is precies omgekeerd: ik kijk geweldig op naar de literaire wereld. Een paar maanden geleden kreeg ik telefoon van Tom Lanoye. Of ik geen zin had om mee te werken aan een stuk van Shakespeare voor Tutti Fratelli, het theatergezelschap van wijlen Reinhilde Decleir. Wat me tijdens dat telefoongesprek verraste, en ook enorm deed blozen, was dat Tom Lanoye mij, Gwillemke, toesprak alsof ik een collega van hem was. Dat deed mij echt iets. En je kent mij goed genoeg om te weten dat ik niet de neiging heb om mezelf te onderschatten." (grijnst)
Heb je ooit de bewondering van iemand geambieerd, maar niét gekregen?
"Ik zou willen dat mijn collega's bij De Grungblavers eens tegen mij zouden zeggen: 'Amai Guillaume, gij hebt een goeie stem.' We treden al tien jaar samen op, ik vind dat ik dat compliment nu wel verdiend heb. Zelf ben ik altijd bijzonder kwistig met lovende woorden. 'Fantastisch gezongen, mannen', zeg ik na elke show. Voor de mannen in kwestie het pad effenend om ook eens een pluim in míj́n gat te steken. Maar denk je dat ze dat ook doén? Vergeet het. Ze zeggen 'dank u' en zwijgen. Een kras op mijn ziel is het." (lacht)
Nu er een romancier in je is opgestaan: ga je nog meer fictie schrijven?
“Ongetwijfeld. Er dwaalt al een geweldig personage in mijn hoofd rond. Maar ze moet me haar verhaal nog vertellen.”
De tagliatelle en de vragen zijn op, we slenteren napratend naar de vestiaire. Net voor we opnieuw de winterkou in duiken, komt de serveerster die ons lieve heren noemde, aangerend met mijn notitieboekje. 'De Madonna van Jean Fouquet is vandaag niet de mooiste vrouw in het KMSKA', vergeet ik haar bij wijze van bedankje te zeggen.
So, I was wondering, since “Jaskier” got translated in many languages, but I know from the English translation that it isn’t necessarily the same flower, I decided to look into that and compare flowers! (Please note that I am neither especially good with plants, nor do I speak all these languages. I’m just making a compilation of the google searches I have done in the last hour.)
First of all, Jaskier, according to my very elaborate *cough* research on google is this little flower:
What we need to know about it for this post is:
1. It’s yellow
2. It’s little
3. And it’s part of the buttercup- or crowfoot-family, also called Ranunculaceae
Let’s start simple:
1. Languages without translation
• French
• Portuguese
• Spanish
• Romanian
“Jaskier” it is for them!
2. Family name
• Dutch (“Ranonkel”)
• Italian (“Ranunculo”)
Apart from the fact that they sound a bit like dragon species in the How to train your Dragon universe, they don’t vary from the yellow flower up there much. They just use the plant family, but since these small yellow ones are usually the prime example for that family, this might be what they are getting at.
3. Mean the same flower
• Russian (“лютик”) - I like that it sounds like “lute”. A+
• Bulgarian (“Лютиче”) - theoretically a more distinct version of buttercup but it’s practically the same thing
• Lithuanian (“Vėdrynas”)
4. Lookalikes and passables
• Czech (“Marigold” - Yes that is going to get confusing with Triss) - whatever, it’s the same family, looks nearly identical, passes
• Serbian (“Neven”) - that one is actually mostly orange, but there are also yellow ones. It’s also not that tiny and it doesn’t belong in the same family, but I’m still going to let it slide.
5. Dandelions
• English (obviously)
• Turkish
• Japanese (“ダンデリオン” which should mean dandelion)
It’s yellow, it’s mostly not tiny and a different family, which makes it more related to the Serbian version but it still got its own category. But even with that it still works, I think. I like “Dandelion”.
6. What
• Let’s start this category with the reason I even started researching all this: the German translation!
“Rittersporn” - I actually really like this name. I think it sounds great. It translates into “Knights spur” or “Knights thorn” and even though I knew “Jaskier” first, I still love this version.
Still, the flowers, which bear this name look next to nothing like that buttercup up there.
Is it yellow? No it is not. Is it tiny? It probably reaches higher than I am tall. What it is, though, is being from the same family, but that’s not going to help it to look like a tiny yellow flower.
Putting that aside, I’m glad they didn’t translate buttercup directly, because in Germany these are called “Rooster feet”, which would not be flamboyant or flattering at all! They also could have just followed the English translation and used Dandelion, hence “Löwenzahn” in German (meaning lions tooth), but that flower is not really... that much of a burner in here? I can’t really describe it, but it would not fit that well.
• the Swedish version (“Riddarsporre”) is basically the same. I think even the translation might mean the same.
• Hungarian (“Kökörcsin”) - is it yellow? No. But is it tiny and belongs to the same family? Yes. Nevertheless, this does not look like a buttercup! Also, the German translation for this plant is “Kuhschelle”, which means “cows bell”, which is not surprising, considering the form or the petals.
• Ukrainian (“Любисток”) - it’s not yellow, it doesn’t even really have flowers, it’s also fairly big and it also does not belong in the buttercup-family. From what I gathered, this plant, in German is called “Liebstöckel” or “Luststock” which is.... interesting since that translates into “Love stake” or “Lust stick/stake”. Maybe they just went searching for a plant that respresented Jaskiers bedroom adventures. In which case the choice would be fair, but judging from the plant alone, this one doesn’t get a pass!
In conclusion, some translators look for fitting names within yellow tiny flowers, some just make shit up. But they are all interesting and very pretty flowers nonetheless! I think I like all of these. This has actually been really enjoyable. Even though I stayed up until 3am because of this.
Petition to give Jaskier a bouquet with one of every single one of those flowers in it. All his flowers in one place.
BLISS 10: “I like that you make me laugh so much that my cheeks hurt.”
–––––
It’s almost midnight, and Mats is drunk. Above him, the stars are sparkling, and as he kicks a pebble ahead of his feet, for just one second, he wonders what the heck he’s doing. He’s twenty years old, and every logic in the world tells him that he shouldn’t feel like this – not so soon, not when he’s still this young, when he hasn’t even had those feelings for long.
But he can’t help it.
See, Mats Hummels is fully, irrevocably, truly, madly, deeply in love.
That in itself is nothing new, of course. Already a month back, he fell so quickly for his fellow U-23 centreback – Benedikt Höwedes. Benni is older than him by a good ten months, a Schalke player with galaxies all over his cheeks and sunshine in his eyes. And Mats is lucky – Benni feels the same for him too. They’d confessed, they’d kissed, they went their separate ways for a few weeks of holidays and then they’d reunited. Everything since then has been pretty much out of a dream, but still, there’s something Mats hasn’t done yet. Something very important.
His head is swimming, and this time he’s sure that it’s not only the alcohol that is making it spin. Because Mats Hummels, drunk and clumsy as he may be, is on a mission.
Of course, all his friends slash teammates have told him it is a terrible idea. They’re probably right, too, but at this point, Mats couldn’t give more of a fuck.
He can’t believe he hasn’t told Benni yet.
It hit him out of nowhere, really, when he’d been nursing his fourth beer, talking to Neven, Schmelle and Nuri. He almost dropped his glass when he thought of it, gaping at the red brick wall in front of him. Schmelle had waved his hand in front of Mats’ eyes, but not even that helped. No, instead, Mats scrambled up from his chair, throwing some excuses over his shoulder as he searched for his jacket among all the others, leaving the small dive bar with nothing more than a few hasty goodbyes.
They were in a bar in Essen, so really, it wasn’t all that far to Benni’s place in Gelsenkirchen. Surprisingly, Mats remembered which bus to take even in his inebriated state, missing the right stop though, so now, he had to walk back all the way to his boyfriend’s apartment.
It’s a warm night, and he feels slightly too hot in his burgundy dress shirt and denim jacket, but he figures he might lose it if he took it off – he learned a few years ago that his drunk self isn’t to be trusted.
Of course, that begs the question why he still thought it a good idea to come to a halt below Benni’s bedroom window, of course, tilting his head to look up at it until his neck starts to hurt. But also, Mats is too far gone to really care all that much.
“Hey, Benni!”
He knows Benni won’t hear him, of course, he’s not that stupid – but he also knows that Benni always keeps his window open on summer nights, something they’ve actually argued over before, back in Sweden, so it was at least worth a try.
Nothing happens.
Mats sighs. With a huff, he fishes his phone out of his pocket. It’s difficult to text with his slow fingers, hitting the wrong buttons all the time, and eventually, he gives up. That of course leaves only one method, if he doesn’t want to get in trouble with Benni’s landlord, that is.
Now, the thing is, Mats can’t sing. Of course, he does have the vocal cords to perform an act of singing, but what leaves his mouth is less an actual, proper rendition of the only song he can remember right now – which is, quite unfortunately, Jingle Bells – and more of an old door’s quiet shriek.
Honestly, it probably doesn’t help that he’s drunk of his ass (though this is a sobering experience in itself) and his voice is hoarse from playing table top football with the others only an hour earlier.
It takes two stanzas and around one minute for Benni to poke his head out of his window.
“Have you gone insane?!” he hisses, before running a hand over his face, groaning. “Mats, it’s half past twelve. Do you want me to get kicked out?”
Mats winces, but then puts on his most charming smile.
“I admit, my methods may be questionable, but, my lord, would you let me into your castle still?”
Benni rolls his eyes so hard that Mats is sure it must hurt. He closes the window, and only about thirty second later, the door buzzes and Mats is let in.
He takes two steps at a time until he reaches the second floor, where Benni’s small two-bedroom apartment is located.
His boyfriend is leaning in the doorframe in only a too-big t-shirt that upon second glance might be Mats’ and striped boxers. His hair is a mess, but he’s smiling, and Mats’ stomach feels so warm, happiness pooling there and overflowing until it reaches every part of his body, seeps out of his fingers that seek Benni out, pulling him close, pulling him in.
“What the heck are you doing here,” Benni murmurs into Mats’ neck as Mats breathes in his scent, a combination of grapefruit shower gel, freshly washed sheets and simply Benni.
Mats kisses his hair as he pulls away gently, wincing when he realizes he must smell of alcohol and the cigarettes some idiots from another party smuggled into the bar.
“I just …”
It doesn’t happen often, that Mats is at a loss for words. But somehow, looking at Benni now, so heart-stoppingly beautiful, his Benni, they evade him, hiding in the dark corners of the hallway, away from his sight.
So instead, he takes Benni’s hand, pulling him towards the living room, stumbling over his own feet but managing to catch himself just in time. He guides them towards the couch, sitting down and pulling on Benni’s hand until his boyfriend sits down in front of him.
“I need to tell you something.”
He takes a deep breath.
“I like you.” Okay, that was stupid, let’s start over. “I like you a lot. I like your smile, your eyes. Your freckles, I absolutely adore those, your dry sense of humor. I like that you make me laugh so much that my cheeks hurt, that you laugh at my dumb jokes when everyone else would rather I just shut up. I like your compassion, and your ambition, and the fact that you adore your stupid blue club more than any player except maybe Neuer.
“I,” he looks Benni straight in the eyes, locking their fingers together, “I think I’m in love with you.”
There.
There it is.
At first, Benni doesn’t say anything, and for a second, Mats is genuinely worried. Then, a chuckle escapes Benni’s lips, growing into a giggle, then into warm, rumbling laughter.
Yeah, Mats is confused too.
He startles a little when there’s suddenly a hand on his cheek, thumbing over his stubble, his jaw, his cheekbones.
Benni’s eyes are earnest, sincere, and he leans in to kiss Mats on the lips despite the foul smell. They’re fond when Benni pulls away, caressing Mats’ neck.
“Oh, Mats … honey, I know. I’ve known since Sweden.”
Mats is sure he must have looked quite perplexed at that moment.
Benni chuckles again.
“I see the way you look at me. I see your fondness, I see your appreciation. I have eyes, Mats, and I can tell you look at me exactly the way I look at you.”
Oh.
Mats bites his bottom lip. Then, he a grin tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Does that mean …?”
Benni rolls his eyes. “Yes, you idiot. I love you too. Now kiss me again.”
And yeah, since he’s already here, Mats assumes they might as well make the best of this night.
Vor 2 1/2 Jahren hab ich ein neues Projekt begonnen - das Wunschprojekt. Dafür habe ich Wünsche gesammelt und sie nach und nach geschrieben. Jetzt, wo der 100. Wunsch einging, beschloss ich, die Liste endlich mal zu schließen. (Manche Zahlen kommen doppelt vor, weil ich am Anfang anders gerechnet habe, deshalb sind es eiiigentlich 102 Wünsche...)
Hier kommt die fertige Liste. 1002 Wünsche. Und ich hab noch was dabei - nämlich wieder eine Umfrage :D Ich wüsste nämlich gerne, was von den nicht geschriebenen Wünschen überhaupt noch relevant ist. Jeder Wunsch, der mindestens eine Stimme bekommt, bleibt auf der Liste, alle anderen werden gestrichen - und machen vllt Platz für neue Wünsche? Denn eigentlich ist hiermit die Wunschliste geschlossen.
Hier entlang zur Umfrage.
(Anmerkung zur Liste: Fett = bereits geschrieben, kursiv = es gibt einen Plot)
01. Mia-san-bayern-muenchen: Joshua Kimmich x Sebastian Rode
01. Palomita: Marcel Schmelzer x Neven Subotic
02. Melanie: Johannes Geis x Leon Goretzka x Max Meyer
03. Lana: Johannes Geis x Leon Goretzka x Max Meyer
04. bika74: Paul Verhaegh x Jannik Vestergaard
05. luisaakainsane: Martin Kelly x Danny Wilson
06. ladytonic: Roman Bürki & Julian Weigl
07. toni_paco: Benedikt Höwedes x Mats Hummels
08. haesje: Roman Bürki x Erik Durm
09. Mia-san-bayern-muenchen: Pierre-Emile Hojbjerg x Patrick Weihrauch
10. Miri: Daniel Baier x Marwin Hitz
11. litsch & Nathia: Matthias Ostrzolek x Paul Verhaegh
12. temsah: Hakan Calhanoglu x Christoph Kramer
13. Nathia: Mats Hummels x Erik Durm
14. Ellen FCB: Kevin Großkreutz x Manuel Neuer
15. dfbfangirli18: Julian Draxler x Benedikt Höwedes
16. rawrr-i-am-a-dragon: Max Meyer/Ralf Fährmann
17. Lisa: Konstantin Rausch x Lars Stindl
18. glavobolja: Miro Klose x Gigi Buffon
19. sehrgutpeter: Nils Petersen/Vincenzo Grifo
20. chipsyio: Nuri Sahin x Henrich Mchitarjan
20. chipsyio: Pierre-Emile Aubameyang x Marco Reus
21. neven4me: Lewis Holtby x Ivo Ilicevic
22. Vicky: Ronny Philp x Markus Weinzierl
23. ein-schuss-ein-tor: Yann Sommer x Marwin Hitz
24. niemals-allein: Samuel Radlinger x Christopher Avevor
25. Peti: Daniel Baier x Christian Gentner
26. becci-chan: Manuel Neuer x Benedikt Höwedes
27. andrisheep: Piotr Trochowski x Patrick Funk
28. eowyn_faith: Kevin Großkreutz x Bastian Schweinsteiger
29. grizilicious: Antoine Griezmann x Karim Benzema
30. permens: Ich hätte gerne Clemens Fritz x Per Mertesacker
31. marcinho11: Marco Reus x Erik Durm x Olli Kirch
32. elekgirl: Erik Durm x Jonas Hoffmann
33. mrscrab: Mitch Langerak x Mario Götze
34. rapskolben: Leonardo Bittencourt x Moritz Leitner
35. anon: Mats Hummels x Neven Subotic
36. schwarzgelbetraeume & rawrr-i-am-a-dragon: Bernd Leno x Marc-André ter Stegen
37. cherrysky09: Aron Johansson x Jannik vestergaard
37. cherrysky09: Janek sternberg x Michael zetterer
38. hoemmels_fan: Sebastian Kehl x Clemens Fritz
39. savassavalas: André Hahn x Patrick Herrmann
40. kaktuspo: René Adler x Clemens Fritz
41. estefania1893: Konstantin Rausch x Felix Burmeister
42. Hanna: Diego Benaglio x Marcel Schäfer
43. bastian-casillas-fussballgott: Iker Casillas x Sergio Ramos
44. n o x: Olivier Giroud x Antoine Griezmann
45. dragon12: Fortsetzung Iker Casillas x Sergio Ramos
46. neven4me: Neven Subotic x Marcel Schmelzer
47. Madrilena: etwas mit Adnan Januzaj
50. toni_paco: Piotr Trochowski x Clemens Fritz
51. sehrgutpeter: Julian Brandt x Levin Öztunali
52. sehrgutpeter: Stefan Bell x Loris Karius
53. sehrgutpeter: Bernd Leno x Sebastian Boenisch
54. sehrgutpeter: Sebastian Boenisch x Gonzalo Coastro
55. sehrgutpeter: Hakan Calhanoglu x Lars Bender
56. sehrgutpeter: Daniel Ginzcek x Kevin Schindler
57. sehrgutpeter: Felix Kroos x Fin Bartels
58. sehrgutpeter: was mit Kevin Kampl
59. sehrgutpeter: Tobias Sippel x Yann Sommer
60. sehrgutpeter: Über Dominik Kohr
61. luisaakainsane: Felix Kroos x Kevin Pannewitz
62. rawrr-i-am-a-dragon: Gerard Pique x Cesc Fabregas
63. chipsyio: Piszczykowski
64. Madrilena: Thorgan Hazard x Erik Durm
65. anon: Marwin Hitz x Gigi Buffon
66. anon: Marwin Hitz x Iker Casillas
67. anon: Daniel Baier x Marwin Hitz
68. worldofstone: was zu Felix Burmeister
69. temsah: Sokratis x Huntelaar
70. lana: Felix Platte x Daniel Heuer Fernandes
71. chipsyio: Fuckbuddies - Nuri Sahin x Erik Durm und andere
72. nandosbutt: Bastiando mit Kindern
73. anon: Gigi Buffon x Iker Casillas
74. anon: Gigi Buffon x Andrea Pirlo
75. buerkihoe: Fortsetzung Roman Bürki x Adnan Januzaj
76. buerkihoe: Roman Bürki x Emre Mor
77. neven4me: Lewis Holtby x Matthias Ostrzolek
78. chipsyio: Ilkay Gündogan x Shinji Kagawa
79. anon: Cristiano Ronaldo x Fabio Coentrao
79. sehrgutpeter: Was mit Konstantinos Stafylidis
80. NoFangirl: Zlatko Junuzovic x Robert Bauer
81. Sammy123: Stürki mit Kindern
82. Meerschweinchen: SCHWEIZER TORHÜTERORGIE
83. dragon: Felixfin aus Felix' Sicht
84. petersensmondfahrt: Maximilian Philipp x Nils Petersen
85. petersensmondfahrt: Philipp Max x Maximilian Philipp
86. chocabel: Leon Goretzka x Max Meyer x Johannes Geis
87. sinahjcx: Stürki - Hasenjahre - ein Kapitel aus Romans Sicht
88. meggiesobsessions: Manuel Neuer x Thomas Müller
89. anon: Mats Hummels x Neven Subotic
90. anon: Leon Goretzka x Christoph Kramer
91. anon: Oscar Wendt x Havard Nordtveit
92. CookieKat98: Fortsetzung Dr Jekyll Mr Hyde - Manuel Neuer x Thomas Müller
93. meggiesobsessions: Marc Bartra x Erik Durm
94. apricotstone: Max Meyer x Leon Goretzka Johannes Geis
95. Ratisbono: Joshua Kimmich x Sven Ulreich
96. princess28: Fortsetzung Frankenderby - Niklas Stark x Niclas Füllkrug
Download Armin van Buuren @ Untold Festival 2018 (Romania) for free now!
Artist : Armin van Buuren
Show : Armin van Buuren @ Untold Festival 2018 (Romania)
Quality : 320 Kbps 48000 Khz
Duration: 06:54:47
Genre : Electronic
Source: Youtube
Discover more Armin van Buuren live sets & radioshows here
Armin van Buuren @ Untold Festival 2018 (Romania) Tracklist
01. Armin van Buuren & Shapov – Our Origin (ARMIND)
02. NWYR – Dragon (FREE)
03. Andrew Rayel & David Gravell & Mark Sixma vs. Armin van Buuren ft. Laura Jansen – Trance ReBorn vs. Sound Of The Drums (Armin van Buuren Mashup)
04. Sagi Abitbul & Guy Haliva vs. Protoculture & Vigel – Stanga vs. Pegasus (Armin van Buuren Mashup) (ULTRA / ARMADA CAPTIVATING)
05. Armin van Buuren ft. Conrad Sewell – Sex, Love & Water (Sunnery James & Ryan Marciano Remix) (ARMADA)
06. ID – ID
07. Pryda – Stay With Me (PRYDA)
08. Luke Bond vs. Loud Luxury ft. Brando vs. Exis – U vs. Body vs. The Count (Armin van Buuren Mashup) (WHO’S AFRAID OF 138 / ARMADA / ARMIND)
w/ Armin van Buuren – Blah Blah Blah (ARMIND)
09. Andrew Rayel & Graham Bell vs. Killa Squad – Tambores vs. Everybody Make It Drop (Armin van Buuren Mashup) (INHARMONY / FEED MY BEAT)
10. Armin van Buuren & Shapov – The Last Dancer (ARMIND)
11. Mark Sixma vs. Armin van Buuren ft. Josh Cumbee – Sinfonia vs. Sunny Days vs. This Is A Test (Armin van Buuren Mashup) (ARMIND)
12. Armin van Buuren & Sunnery James & Ryan Marciano – You Are Too (ARMIND)
13. Dimitri Vegas & Like Mike & Armin Van Buuren & W&W – Repeat (SMASH THE HOUSE)
14. Fatum vs. Armin van Buuren ft. Kensington – Violet vs. Heading Up High (Armin van Buuren Mashup) (ARMADA / ARMIND)
15. Rank 1 – L.E.D. There Be Light (Cosmic Gate Remix) (HIGH CONTRAST)
16. NWYR – Ready To Rave
17. KhoMha vs. Armin van Buuren ft. Mr. Probz – Tierra vs. Another You (Armin van Buuren Mashup) (ARMADA / ARMIND)
18. Armin van Buuren & NWYR vs. Garibay ft. Olaf Blackwood – ID vs. I Need You (Armin van Buuren Mashup) (ARMIND)
(62:43) ID – ID
w/ Cygnus X & Ummet Ozcan vs. Rozalla – Feel Free Superstring (Ummet Ozcan Smashup) (EPIC / XTRAVAGANZA)
w/ Armin van Buuren – Old Skool (Vigel Remix) (ARMADA)
20. Armin van Buuren ft. James Newman – Therapy (Leo Reyes Remix) (ARMADA)
21. ID – ID
(70:20) 4 Strings – Take Me Away (Into The Night) (Dave Neven Remix) (LIQUID)
23. Armin van Buuren ft. Christian Burns – This Light Between Us (FEEL New Banging Mix) (ARMIND)
24. Signum ft. Scott Mac – Coming On Strong (Gareth Emery & Ashley Wallbridge Remix) (GARUDA)
25. Armin van Buuren & W&W vs. Alan Walker ft. Iselin Solheim & Dash Berlin – If It Ain’t Dutch vs. Faded (Armin van Buuren Mashup) (MAINSTAGE / NCS)
26. Mark Sixma vs. DJ Ton T.B. & Paul Denton – Destiny vs. Electronic Malfunction (Armin van Buuren Mashup) (OUTBURST / ASOT)
27. Armin van Buuren – I Live For That Energy (ASOT 800 Theme) (Armin van Buuren Mashup) (ASOT)
(88:57) Airborn & Bogdan Vix & KeyPlayer ft. Alexandra Badoi – Run Away
29. Ben Gold – Kingdoms (ARMIND)
30. Sunset Bros & Mark McCabe ft. Angela McCluskey – I’m Feeling It (In The Air) (MaRLo Remix) (UMG)
31. Armin van Buuren pres. Rising Star ft. Fiora – Just As You Are (ARMIND)
32. Heatbeat – Stadium Arcadium (ASOT)
33. Armin Van Buuren & Arctic Moon vs. OneRepublic – If I Lose Myself Coming Home (Shura Vlasov Mashup) (ARMADA / MOSLEY)
34. Scot Project vs. Ran-D – D (Don’t Go) vs. Zombie (Armin van Buuren Mashup)
w/ Armin van Buuren – Blah Blah Blah (ARMIND)
35. Yuri Kane ft. Kate Walsh – Right Back (Solis & Sean Truby Remix) (FLASHOVER)
36. DVBBS & BORGEOUS – Tsunami (FEEL Banging Remix) (DOORN)
37. Ben Gold & Allen Watts – Strike As One (ARMADA)
38. Gaia – Saint Vitus (ARMIND)
39. Kensington – Sorry (Armin van Buuren Remix) (UMG)
40. Ayla – Ayla (Ben Nicky & Luke Bond Remix) (MAGIK MUZIK)
41. Richard Durand vs. Darren Porter – The Air I Breathe vs. Whiplash (Armin van Buuren Mashup) (FSOE CLANDESTINE / OUTBURST)
42. Avao vs. Armin van Buuren & Andrew Rayel & Talla 2XLC vs. Cosmic Gate – Activate vs. EIFORYA vs. Exploration Of Space (Armin van Buuren Mashup)
43. Dash Berlin ft. Bo Bruce – Coming Home (STANDERWICK Remix) (ASOT)
44. Armin van Buuren & Vini Vici & ALOK ft. Zafrir – United (ARMIND)
45. Armin van Buuren & Alexander Popov – Popcorn (ARMADA)
46. Giuseppe Ottaviani – Till The Sunrise (FSOE)
47. W&W & Vini Vici – Chakra vs. FKD Up Kids (Armin van Buuren Mashup) (IBOGA / MAINSTAGE)
48. Armin van Buuren – Blah Blah Blah (ARMIND)
49. Militia vs. W&W & Vini Vici vs. Armin van Buuren ft. Hilight Tribe vs. Wildstylez – Take Me There vs. Chakra vs. Great Spirit (Armin van Buuren Mashup) (ARMIND / MAINSTAGE)
50. Splinta – Shock Therapy (Bobby Neon Remix) (REACHING ALTITUDE)
w/ Splinta – Shock Therapy (Rising Altitude Mix) (REACHING ALTITUDE)
51. First State & Shinovi vs. Armin van Buuren ft. Trevor Guthrie & W&W vs. Chris Schweizer – Children Of The Masai vs. This Is What It Feels Like vs. Ascension (Armin van Buuren Mashup)
52. CamelPhat & Elderbrook – Cola (Broning Bootleg) (FREE/DEFECTED)
53. Heatbeat vs. John O’Callaghan vs. Armin van Buuren ft. Sharon Den Adel – Meteora vs. Raw Deal vs. In And Out Of Love (Armin van Buuren Mashup) (ARMADA / ARMADA CAPTIVATING / AERYS)
(09:22) Ben Nicky vs. Above & Beyond ft. Richard Bedford vs. Roman Messer & Elite Electronic & Mark Walker – Cobra vs. Northern Soul vs. Arkane (Armin van Buuren Mashup) (SUANDA / WHO’S AFRAID OF 138 / ANJUNABEATS)
55. Armin van Buuren ft. Miri Ben-Ari – Intense (ARMIND)
56. The Killers vs. Exis – Brightside Survival (STANDERWICK Mashup) (ISLAND / WHO’S AFRAID OF 138)
57. ID – ID
(196:56) Majesta & Niko Zografos vs. DJ Shah ft. Adrina Thorpe – Not The End vs. Who Will Find Me (Armin van Buuren Mashup)
(200:03) ID – ID
60. Dimitri Vegas & Like Mike vs. Vini Vici & CherryMoon Traxx – The House Of House (SMASH THE HOUSE)
(32:23) ID – ID
62. Jeremy Vancaulart ft. Danyka Nadeau – Hurt (Allen Watts Remix) (BLACK SUNSET)
63. Exis ft. Enya Angel – Free (WHO’S AFRAID OF 138)
64. Photographer & Roman Messer vs. Armin van Buuren ft. Susana & Rising Star – Infinity vs. Shivers vs. Airport (Armin van Buuren Mashup) (MONSTER DIGITAL / ULTRA / SUANDA)
65. Aly & Fila ft. Jwaydan – We Control The Sunlight (Dan Stone Remix) (WHO’S AFRAID OF 138)
66. RAM – RAMsterdam (Jorn Van Deynhoven Remix) (ASOT)
67. Shogun ft. Melissa Loretta – Skyfire (Steve Allen & Devon Colombage Rework) (WHO’S AFRAID OF 138)
68. Jones & Stephenson – The First Rebirth (Talla 2XLC Uplifting Remix) (BONZAI CLASSICS)
69. Mark Sixma & Emma Hewitt – Missing (Jorn Van Deynhoven Remix) (ARMADA)
70. The Noble Six – Firewalker (ASOT)
71. Pure NRG – Prophecy (Istoria Anthem 2017) (BLACK HOLE)
72. RAM vs. Gareth Emery & Standerwick ft. HALIENE – RAMexico vs. Saving Light (Armin van Buuren Mashup) (MONSTERCAT / WHO’S AFRAID OF 138)
73. MaRLo ft. Sarah Swagger – Always Be Around (Pinkque Remix) (REACHING ALTITUDE)
74. Lost Tribe – Gamemaster (Lightform Reborn Mix) (DAREY PRODUCTS)
75. ID – ID
(85:24) Niels Van Gogh – Pulverturm (Shinovi Bootleg) (KOSMO)
77. Adam Beyer & Bart Skils – Your Mind (Armin van Buuren Untold Tech Edit) (DRUMCODE)
78. More Analog – Kira (Armin van Buuren Untold Tech Edit) (ARMADA ELECTRONIC ELEMENTS)
79. Fatboy Slim – Right Here, Right Now (CamelPhat Remix) (TOOLROOM)
80. Virtual Self – Ghost Voices (Raito Remix) (VIRTUAL SELF)
81. Above & Beyond – Red Rocks (ANJUNABEATS)
w/ Cosmic Gate & Emma Hewitt – Tonight (WAKE YOUR MIND)
82. Faithless – We Come 1 (Armin van Buuren 2.0 Remix) (CHEEKY)
83. Super8 & Tab – Blockchain (ARMIND)
84. Linkin Park – In The End (Markus Schulz Tribute Remix) (WARNER BROS.)
85. STANDERWICK – I’ve Been Thinking About You (WHO’S AFRAID OF 138)
86. Armin van Buuren – Sail (ARMIND)
87. Armin van Buuren ft. Jan Vayne – Serenity (ARMIND)
88. Laura Jansen – Use Somebody (Armin van Buuren Rework) (ARMIND)
89. Armin van Buuren – Mirage (ARMADA)
90. Gaia – Empire Of Hearts (ARMIND)
91. Armin van Buuren – Communication (ARMIND)
92. Gaia – Tuvan (ARMIND)
93. DJ’s United – Remember Love (ARMADA)
94. Ferry Corsten vs. Armin van Buuren – Brute (Armin van Buuren Illegal Drum Edit) (FLASHOVER)
95. Push – Universal Nation (Ørjan Nilsen Remix) (HIGH CONTRAST)
96. Vini Vici vs. Sia & Arctic Moon – The Tribe vs. California Dreamin (Armin van Buuren Mashup) (IBOGA / WARNER BROS.)
97. Heatbeat – Supersaw (WHO’S AFRAID OF 138)
98. Mory Kanté – Yeke Yeke (Bluestone Remix) (SOUNDTRACK)
99. Substate – Horizon (Mac Zimms Remix) (LIQUID)
100. Tiësto – Adagio For Strings (MAGIK MUZIK)
101. Coldplay – A Sky Full Of Stars (Paul Webster Remix) (PARLOPHONE)
102. Underworld – Born Slippy (Activa Bootleg) (JBO)
103. Alex M.O.R.P.H. ft. Sylvia Tosun – An Angel’s Love (Vocal Mix) (ASOT)
104. Saltwater – The Legacy (Alphazone Remix) (ZENITH)
105. Matt Darey pres. Urban Astronauts ft. Kate Louise Smith – See The Sun (Dan Stone Rework) (FSOE)
106. Quench – Dreams (Nicholson Cathedral Remix) (MAGIK MUZIK)
107. Mr Sam – Lyteo (Stoneface & Terminal Remix) (GROTESQUE REWORKED)
108. John O’Callaghan & John Askew vs. Nadia Ali – Stressed Rapture (Alex Vlasov Mashup) (UNITED / SUBCULTURE)
109. Armin van Buuren vs. Brennan Heart & Toneshifterz – Blah Blah Blah (Armin van Buuren Mashup) (ARMIND)
110. Armin van Buuren ft. Sam Martin – Hello Son (Working Title) (ARMADA)
111. Armin van Buuren ft. Josh Cumbee – Sunny Days (Armin van Buuren Encore Remix) (ARMIND)
Listen or download Armin van Buuren @ Untold Festival 2018 (Romania) for free now!
Artist : Armin van Buuren
Show : Armin van Buuren @ Untold Festival 2018 (Romania)
Quality : 320 Kbps 48000 Khz
Duration: 06:54:47
Genre : Electronic
Source: Youtube
Discover more Armin van Buuren live sets & radioshows here
Armin van Buuren @ Untold Festival 2018 (Romania) Tracklist
01. Armin van Buuren & Shapov – Our Origin (ARMIND)
02. NWYR – Dragon (FREE)
03. Andrew Rayel & David Gravell & Mark Sixma vs. Armin van Buuren ft. Laura Jansen – Trance ReBorn vs. Sound Of The Drums (Armin van Buuren Mashup)
04. Sagi Abitbul & Guy Haliva vs. Protoculture & Vigel – Stanga vs. Pegasus (Armin van Buuren Mashup) (ULTRA / ARMADA CAPTIVATING)
05. Armin van Buuren ft. Conrad Sewell – Sex, Love & Water (Sunnery James & Ryan Marciano Remix) (ARMADA)
06. ID – ID
07. Pryda – Stay With Me (PRYDA)
08. Luke Bond vs. Loud Luxury ft. Brando vs. Exis – U vs. Body vs. The Count (Armin van Buuren Mashup) (WHO’S AFRAID OF 138 / ARMADA / ARMIND)
w/ Armin van Buuren – Blah Blah Blah (ARMIND)
09. Andrew Rayel & Graham Bell vs. Killa Squad – Tambores vs. Everybody Make It Drop (Armin van Buuren Mashup) (INHARMONY / FEED MY BEAT)
10. Armin van Buuren & Shapov – The Last Dancer (ARMIND)
11. Mark Sixma vs. Armin van Buuren ft. Josh Cumbee – Sinfonia vs. Sunny Days vs. This Is A Test (Armin van Buuren Mashup) (ARMIND)
12. Armin van Buuren & Sunnery James & Ryan Marciano – You Are Too (ARMIND)
13. Dimitri Vegas & Like Mike & Armin Van Buuren & W&W – Repeat (SMASH THE HOUSE)
14. Fatum vs. Armin van Buuren ft. Kensington – Violet vs. Heading Up High (Armin van Buuren Mashup) (ARMADA / ARMIND)
15. Rank 1 – L.E.D. There Be Light (Cosmic Gate Remix) (HIGH CONTRAST)
16. NWYR – Ready To Rave
17. KhoMha vs. Armin van Buuren ft. Mr. Probz – Tierra vs. Another You (Armin van Buuren Mashup) (ARMADA / ARMIND)
18. Armin van Buuren & NWYR vs. Garibay ft. Olaf Blackwood – ID vs. I Need You (Armin van Buuren Mashup) (ARMIND)
(62:43) ID – ID
w/ Cygnus X & Ummet Ozcan vs. Rozalla – Feel Free Superstring (Ummet Ozcan Smashup) (EPIC / XTRAVAGANZA)
w/ Armin van Buuren – Old Skool (Vigel Remix) (ARMADA)
20. Armin van Buuren ft. James Newman – Therapy (Leo Reyes Remix) (ARMADA)
21. ID – ID
(70:20) 4 Strings – Take Me Away (Into The Night) (Dave Neven Remix) (LIQUID)
23. Armin van Buuren ft. Christian Burns – This Light Between Us (FEEL New Banging Mix) (ARMIND)
24. Signum ft. Scott Mac – Coming On Strong (Gareth Emery & Ashley Wallbridge Remix) (GARUDA)
25. Armin van Buuren & W&W vs. Alan Walker ft. Iselin Solheim & Dash Berlin – If It Ain’t Dutch vs. Faded (Armin van Buuren Mashup) (MAINSTAGE / NCS)
26. Mark Sixma vs. DJ Ton T.B. & Paul Denton – Destiny vs. Electronic Malfunction (Armin van Buuren Mashup) (OUTBURST / ASOT)
27. Armin van Buuren – I Live For That Energy (ASOT 800 Theme) (Armin van Buuren Mashup) (ASOT)
(88:57) Airborn & Bogdan Vix & KeyPlayer ft. Alexandra Badoi – Run Away
29. Ben Gold – Kingdoms (ARMIND)
30. Sunset Bros & Mark McCabe ft. Angela McCluskey – I’m Feeling It (In The Air) (MaRLo Remix) (UMG)
31. Armin van Buuren pres. Rising Star ft. Fiora – Just As You Are (ARMIND)
32. Heatbeat – Stadium Arcadium (ASOT)
33. Armin Van Buuren & Arctic Moon vs. OneRepublic – If I Lose Myself Coming Home (Shura Vlasov Mashup) (ARMADA / MOSLEY)
34. Scot Project vs. Ran-D – D (Don’t Go) vs. Zombie (Armin van Buuren Mashup)
w/ Armin van Buuren – Blah Blah Blah (ARMIND)
35. Yuri Kane ft. Kate Walsh – Right Back (Solis & Sean Truby Remix) (FLASHOVER)
36. DVBBS & BORGEOUS – Tsunami (FEEL Banging Remix) (DOORN)
37. Ben Gold & Allen Watts – Strike As One (ARMADA)
38. Gaia – Saint Vitus (ARMIND)
39. Kensington – Sorry (Armin van Buuren Remix) (UMG)
40. Ayla – Ayla (Ben Nicky & Luke Bond Remix) (MAGIK MUZIK)
41. Richard Durand vs. Darren Porter – The Air I Breathe vs. Whiplash (Armin van Buuren Mashup) (FSOE CLANDESTINE / OUTBURST)
42. Avao vs. Armin van Buuren & Andrew Rayel & Talla 2XLC vs. Cosmic Gate – Activate vs. EIFORYA vs. Exploration Of Space (Armin van Buuren Mashup)
43. Dash Berlin ft. Bo Bruce – Coming Home (STANDERWICK Remix) (ASOT)
44. Armin van Buuren & Vini Vici & ALOK ft. Zafrir – United (ARMIND)
45. Armin van Buuren & Alexander Popov – Popcorn (ARMADA)
46. Giuseppe Ottaviani – Till The Sunrise (FSOE)
47. W&W & Vini Vici – Chakra vs. FKD Up Kids (Armin van Buuren Mashup) (IBOGA / MAINSTAGE)
48. Armin van Buuren – Blah Blah Blah (ARMIND)
49. Militia vs. W&W & Vini Vici vs. Armin van Buuren ft. Hilight Tribe vs. Wildstylez – Take Me There vs. Chakra vs. Great Spirit (Armin van Buuren Mashup) (ARMIND / MAINSTAGE)
50. Splinta – Shock Therapy (Bobby Neon Remix) (REACHING ALTITUDE)
w/ Splinta – Shock Therapy (Rising Altitude Mix) (REACHING ALTITUDE)
51. First State & Shinovi vs. Armin van Buuren ft. Trevor Guthrie & W&W vs. Chris Schweizer – Children Of The Masai vs. This Is What It Feels Like vs. Ascension (Armin van Buuren Mashup)
52. CamelPhat & Elderbrook – Cola (Broning Bootleg) (FREE/DEFECTED)
53. Heatbeat vs. John O’Callaghan vs. Armin van Buuren ft. Sharon Den Adel – Meteora vs. Raw Deal vs. In And Out Of Love (Armin van Buuren Mashup) (ARMADA / ARMADA CAPTIVATING / AERYS)
(09:22) Ben Nicky vs. Above & Beyond ft. Richard Bedford vs. Roman Messer & Elite Electronic & Mark Walker – Cobra vs. Northern Soul vs. Arkane (Armin van Buuren Mashup) (SUANDA / WHO’S AFRAID OF 138 / ANJUNABEATS)
55. Armin van Buuren ft. Miri Ben-Ari – Intense (ARMIND)
56. The Killers vs. Exis – Brightside Survival (STANDERWICK Mashup) (ISLAND / WHO’S AFRAID OF 138)
57. ID – ID
(196:56) Majesta & Niko Zografos vs. DJ Shah ft. Adrina Thorpe – Not The End vs. Who Will Find Me (Armin van Buuren Mashup)
(200:03) ID – ID
60. Dimitri Vegas & Like Mike vs. Vini Vici & CherryMoon Traxx – The House Of House (SMASH THE HOUSE)
(32:23) ID – ID
62. Jeremy Vancaulart ft. Danyka Nadeau – Hurt (Allen Watts Remix) (BLACK SUNSET)
63. Exis ft. Enya Angel – Free (WHO’S AFRAID OF 138)
64. Photographer & Roman Messer vs. Armin van Buuren ft. Susana & Rising Star – Infinity vs. Shivers vs. Airport (Armin van Buuren Mashup) (MONSTER DIGITAL / ULTRA / SUANDA)
65. Aly & Fila ft. Jwaydan – We Control The Sunlight (Dan Stone Remix) (WHO’S AFRAID OF 138)
66. RAM – RAMsterdam (Jorn Van Deynhoven Remix) (ASOT)
67. Shogun ft. Melissa Loretta – Skyfire (Steve Allen & Devon Colombage Rework) (WHO’S AFRAID OF 138)
68. Jones & Stephenson – The First Rebirth (Talla 2XLC Uplifting Remix) (BONZAI CLASSICS)
69. Mark Sixma & Emma Hewitt – Missing (Jorn Van Deynhoven Remix) (ARMADA)
70. The Noble Six – Firewalker (ASOT)
71. Pure NRG – Prophecy (Istoria Anthem 2017) (BLACK HOLE)
72. RAM vs. Gareth Emery & Standerwick ft. HALIENE – RAMexico vs. Saving Light (Armin van Buuren Mashup) (MONSTERCAT / WHO’S AFRAID OF 138)
73. MaRLo ft. Sarah Swagger – Always Be Around (Pinkque Remix) (REACHING ALTITUDE)
74. Lost Tribe – Gamemaster (Lightform Reborn Mix) (DAREY PRODUCTS)
75. ID – ID
(85:24) Niels Van Gogh – Pulverturm (Shinovi Bootleg) (KOSMO)
77. Adam Beyer & Bart Skils – Your Mind (Armin van Buuren Untold Tech Edit) (DRUMCODE)
78. More Analog – Kira (Armin van Buuren Untold Tech Edit) (ARMADA ELECTRONIC ELEMENTS)
79. Fatboy Slim – Right Here, Right Now (CamelPhat Remix) (TOOLROOM)
80. Virtual Self – Ghost Voices (Raito Remix) (VIRTUAL SELF)
81. Above & Beyond – Red Rocks (ANJUNABEATS)
w/ Cosmic Gate & Emma Hewitt – Tonight (WAKE YOUR MIND)
82. Faithless – We Come 1 (Armin van Buuren 2.0 Remix) (CHEEKY)
83. Super8 & Tab – Blockchain (ARMIND)
84. Linkin Park – In The End (Markus Schulz Tribute Remix) (WARNER BROS.)
85. STANDERWICK – I’ve Been Thinking About You (WHO’S AFRAID OF 138)
86. Armin van Buuren – Sail (ARMIND)
87. Armin van Buuren ft. Jan Vayne – Serenity (ARMIND)
88. Laura Jansen – Use Somebody (Armin van Buuren Rework) (ARMIND)
89. Armin van Buuren – Mirage (ARMADA)
90. Gaia – Empire Of Hearts (ARMIND)
91. Armin van Buuren – Communication (ARMIND)
92. Gaia – Tuvan (ARMIND)
93. DJ’s United – Remember Love (ARMADA)
94. Ferry Corsten vs. Armin van Buuren – Brute (Armin van Buuren Illegal Drum Edit) (FLASHOVER)
95. Push – Universal Nation (Ørjan Nilsen Remix) (HIGH CONTRAST)
96. Vini Vici vs. Sia & Arctic Moon – The Tribe vs. California Dreamin (Armin van Buuren Mashup) (IBOGA / WARNER BROS.)
97. Heatbeat – Supersaw (WHO’S AFRAID OF 138)
98. Mory Kanté – Yeke Yeke (Bluestone Remix) (SOUNDTRACK)
99. Substate – Horizon (Mac Zimms Remix) (LIQUID)
100. Tiësto – Adagio For Strings (MAGIK MUZIK)
101. Coldplay – A Sky Full Of Stars (Paul Webster Remix) (PARLOPHONE)
102. Underworld – Born Slippy (Activa Bootleg) (JBO)
103. Alex M.O.R.P.H. ft. Sylvia Tosun – An Angel’s Love (Vocal Mix) (ASOT)
104. Saltwater – The Legacy (Alphazone Remix) (ZENITH)
105. Matt Darey pres. Urban Astronauts ft. Kate Louise Smith – See The Sun (Dan Stone Rework) (FSOE)
106. Quench – Dreams (Nicholson Cathedral Remix) (MAGIK MUZIK)
107. Mr Sam – Lyteo (Stoneface & Terminal Remix) (GROTESQUE REWORKED)
108. John O’Callaghan & John Askew vs. Nadia Ali – Stressed Rapture (Alex Vlasov Mashup) (UNITED / SUBCULTURE)
109. Armin van Buuren vs. Brennan Heart & Toneshifterz – Blah Blah Blah (Armin van Buuren Mashup) (ARMIND)
110. Armin van Buuren ft. Sam Martin – Hello Son (Working Title) (ARMADA)
111. Armin van Buuren ft. Josh Cumbee – Sunny Days (Armin van Buuren Encore Remix) (ARMIND)
So have,
To siles gone’s body
age
a holet badown
with stree drill of the wondance first break
went.
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like shad church,
From
where a speart, be then pon was a kissilves was I wall thing of most,
bad dark:
Folled be this plassile mounded brigged that the A.
Call that deplicalverythine beaut, soft hers—
When shamun.
Even self
and dears.
She sea;
He way,
had are of a chee, a speel of sign here tent to he clain
grow, bird the bell,
on the cat matine
with the halls
Injuriouse turess all to kiss the from awake dream.
We scarrow:
They more, the els but of mond my mout ened
heldespired you wild heat
orgive woods,
a tricatch
of be on all
lets on the els from
that me in have thirst or
They traperhapped fress?
To the one
of this in ading,
one onelse’s ming sway with web ove —
We pret.
Remean
Enoughtgown,
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Again,
does.
The neven!
I was cold
the his he jonquilind sweenly drian over, aways, which
aboved dore,
And sever boots, little that forchild yours,
Of weep
you gave pland the on mostling
too,
We body in that sea.
I we soonlight not withe stars.
Year.
So destill trump. “Then for senset phone taked
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Gone toil
make of you,
yeart
on could sun a yet; soon to the sunse birds knew thand hide-eyes:
on waiting over words roof,
loom
and didn’t,
nears, firestly und evenous
Far to goblin hado, I bittle dry limble, when see my from the spirate be you are is plast, aured locushion admit some one work home, racee hers,
partle the inter the say;
She left brushed wormitory befor a heave pret shed there hat I poss cour meth me;
the her its confound precaust gette tell,” shinx.
Small night a which a what Juness
and.
She long the kitchy will thould the probably and like up at you
cands a where are that night;
But wish.
All am I first is in a lay
in knowind the and for pur,
on the web ove
perate is veilittend to destentrew holding at to limbing He wind form white crazy.
💌 From: Neven
To : Angela
Joyeux anniversaire petite soeurette ! Tu sais, je me souviens encore quand tu es venue au monde, Elena et moi nous étions très heureux d’avoir une nouvelle soeur avec qui on pourrait casser la tête à notre mère, et qu’est-ce qu’on lui a bien cassé la tête tous les trois! Tu es une belle jeune femme maintenant (même si tu as toujours été belle) et même si je suis pas le frère le plus present, tu seras toujours ma petite soeur adorée et je serais ravi de casser les gueules qui te feront du mal si l’occasion se présente. Je ne pourrais pas être plus fier d’avoir pour soeur une femme aussi intelligente et cultivée que toi. En attendant j’espère que tu passes le meilleur des anniversaires, tu le mérites amplement. (ps: désolé si le cadeau a du retard, corona oblige) love you