Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"B'hoy, go ahead and butt me!" The ill-favoured man shouted as he rung his bell.

A beautiful boy walked in, waiting for someone to save him from his old ways and his low-paying life.

He fetched a cigarette and hid the pavement dust in the cigarette and he slipped it inbetween the ugly man's mouth, to which he lit the cigarette.

"Now I know how Joan Of Arc felt!" A morbid voice whined in the fields. His melodramatic voice echoed throughout the country and all the way to France. That might've explained the Provence earthquake.

"And I'll dust my lemon lies, with powder pink and sweet! The day I stop's the day you change and fly away, away from me!" A powdery pink and sweet voice sung to his lover.

Were him and whiny voice lovers? Did the lover come over? Did the lover come over and have a drink or did he just not have the time?

The gorgeous boy glared towards the corner of the room."Thy name's Brandon, if you must be begging to squawk." The gorgeous boy, now known as Brandon, introduced.

"Bitch the pot, thy gay dog!" A unappealing woman screamed for the whole world to her. But the world didn't listen at her demands and bring the brew over, instead she had a peasant working for her.

'The ordinary won't hark. Andy, yond wench, being in a carriage with a wench. The wench, being his ordinary. He did promise me she's not his ordinary. But the lady is. Yond wench did lie. The closet'd homosexual.' Brandon thought to himself, it seemed like there was a great deal of impact left on him over someone starred as 'Andy', very good drama, it seems.

Brandon fetched the teapot and poured it into the great China teacup. All with a glare on his face, of course.

Although he was hidden in rags, he wanted something they'll never have.

"May I get something better, please?" Brandon asked politely as a diva could be, while handing the great fine China teacup over.

"Quit your noise you doomsayer!" The horrendous looking woman SPAT. "We don't want to be spit on, we just want to play, new clothes." A feminine looking pretty boy made a good point.

The mosquito looking man flew out his cane and whipped the two peasant boys. Brandon screamed in pain, while the feminine looking pretty boy rolled onto the floor.

"Thither goeth the whipping, gaze me whip whip and gaze me nae nae!" The monkey exclaimed with laughter, "Would thee like a whip whip?" a species other an homosapian asked.

"How much teen shall occur?" The monkey asked in return. "Nay teen, nay gain. T might sort out thy sideburns thee fucking monkey!" Another species other an homosapian replied.

"Where are you going, Brandon?" The feminine looking pretty boy asked. "Ain't we all just runaways?" Brandon asked as he packed some supplies into a pocket in his rags.

"No, Brandon we are not. We have to stay here as servants, otherwise where would we go?" The feminine looking pretty boy asked, "I might just runaway somewhere else some place good." Brandon answered.

"Are you coming or are you going to die here all night?" Brandon asked. "Should I stay or should I go?" A distant voice on the horizon behind a smokey ship asked.

"What about Steven?" The feminine looking pretty boy asked as Brandon's heart skipped a few beats. "He can come with us, so can Robert." Brandon answered.

"We've got time to leave, haven't we?" The feminine looking pretty boy asked. "Johnny, that ain't much, we can't wait 'til tomorrow. You gotta know that this is real, baby why you wanna fight it? It's the one thing you can choose oh!" Brandon threw reality into the air.

The boy, who we now know as Johnny, packed his very little things and touched a shelf longingly.

"Bunk to the fields you coots!" The extremely unattractive woman screamed. "No, talk about being at the right place at the right time!" Brandon muttered.

Brandon and Johnny, or Johnny and Brandon — whichever fits better —, set out to the fields.

The duo saw the boy who obtained the whiny voice and the boy who kept the powder pink and sweet voice.

"Steven, we're leaving today." Johnny informed whiny voice. "Oh finally, i bethought i might kicketh the bucket with a smileth on mine own visage after all down hither. This is such hard worketh, I now know how Joan Of Arc felt!" Whiny voice, known as Steven, whined once more.

"When, where and how?" Powder pink and sweet voice boy asked, "Today, maybe even right now. I don't know where, but we're in the fields so we can easily run away here." Brandon answered.

"How am i going to structure my beautiful quiff?!" Steven asked in despair, "I've got your quiff things here!" Johnny answered, "Thank you Johnny!" Steven thanked.

"What would you use for your hair and make up, Robert?" Brandon asked, "Oh, I always use puddle water for my hair and bird shit so I'll be alright!" Powdery pink and sweet voice, who we now know as Robert, answered.

It appeared that the four of them set off into the trees.

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As it seems, the four peasants set off into the trees.

"Oh mine own, johnny behold! it's a tree! isn't t magnificent?" Steven asked, "Yeah, it's a tree." Johnny answered uninterested. The most cruelest thing one can do to another, not listen or seem extremely uninterested when one talks about something they're ever so passionately about.

"What type of tree is that?" Brandon asked, fawning at the seams while smiling like he means it. With Steven, he meant it every time whatever smile, he smiled the most.

"I believeth t is a hemlock tree!" Steven answered; although he enjoyed Brandon's efforts, it was never enough. He wanted Johnny's attention.

"Its' trunk looks like your eyebrows!" Robert remarked while laughing, "At least i has't the glory of nature, unlike having to useth what cometh out of a bird's behind f'r mine own hair!" Steven quipped.

Steven and Johnny started aggressively making out underneath a tree, while Robert decided to climb up a tree.

A man with a very receding hairline came into far distance. A shortsighted individual would not be able to see the man.

He quite enjoyed the look of Brandon, in a natural way

"A ONE A TWO A ONE TWO THREE!!!!" A straining voice screamed with the sound of drums beginning along with bass and guitar.

"SHE PLAYS THE DRUMS I'M ON TAMBOURINE!!!!" Brandon subconsciously squealed out of excitement and happiness.

To which, dearest Brandon did a cartwheel down the forest for the hills, but he fell in a river that was wilde.

"YOU BETTER RUN FOR THE HILLS BEFORE THEY BURN LISTEN TO THE SOUND OF THE WORLD, DON'T WATCH IT TURN!! I JUST WANT TO SHOW YOU WHAT I KNOW AND CATCH YOU WHEN THE CURRENTS LET YOU GO!!" Brandon screamed as loud as he could, mainly directed to Steven. He wanted him to be careful and be safe with how blind he can be.

After what seemed like quite a long time, he felt the energy draining out of his body. Mainly throughout his legs, his head was repeating the very faint sound of the waves in a vision that was all a blur whatsoever.

He then realised, they weren't looking for him. He felt his throat hitch and he had no feeling of enjoyment.

"I'm coming to find you, if it takes me all night." Robert muttered underneath his breath. 'And run until, you make it right.' The receding hairlines man thought.

Perhaps they was looking for him? But even so, what difference does it make? Brandon's limbs gave up, it knew it was too tired; he became plagued with fatigue. He just wanted to die or to go to sleep.

"A sofa, watch my lethargic legs build up on this!" The monkey cried while indulged into laughter.

"Or should I just get along with myself? I never did get along with everybody else.. I've been trying hard to do what's right." Brandon muttered with the very little remaining energy he had soaked in his body.

"But you know I could stay here all night and watch the clouds fall from the sky. Well, this river is wild. This River Is Wild." Brandon spoke with a low, soft melancholic voice.

He gave up on waiting on some beautiful boy to save him from his old ways. He's tired and he wants to go to bed, and he's feeling very sick and ill today.

He felt empty and numb, longing for something he couldn't quite locate.

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"I saw a.." The receding hairline man hesitated, "woman and I suspect she was drowning." this was actually partly a lie. Brandon was not a woman, although there's a diva in him. "REBEL REBEL, YOUR FACE IS A MESS!!" A ginger man croaked. It was unclear what he was, a starman or a alligator.

"THERE'S SOME KIND OF FAAASSSSCCCIIINNAAAATTTIIOOOONN!!!" The monkey screamed with his hand on his forehead cueing his eyes to face the back of his head.

"A woman? Drowning? As if in this economy, it's fantastic with this economy! Must've been a slave." A American burger whose name was Bob replied.

"AAAAAMMMEERRRRRIIIIIIICCCCCCCCAAAA, YOU KNOW WHERE TO SHOVE YOUR HAAAAAAAMBUUUURRRGGEEERRRRR!!" Steven spoke English for once, it was a great sacrifice but it was for Brandon's honour.

"And why did you give me so much love in a loveless world, when there is no one I can turn to, to unlock all this love?" Steven questioned Jesus. Brandon would NOT have tolerated it but we're asking the real questions here.

It dawned upon the 24th of June. Two days after the river turned wild.

Everyone gathered in a forest with flowers —which was ironic — and little trinkets. They located the river so they set forth towards it.

Everybody eventually reached the river and paid their respects. A lot of mourning was processed during that time.

"Who are you?" Robert asked, "Ronnie." the receding hairline man answered.

"Wherefore doth thee cometh hither at which hour thee knoweth t only causes me teen?" Steven asked, back at the foreign language that no one understood.

"I used to be a wedding photographer." Ronnie answered; it wasn't a lie but it gave very little detail.

Steven started dancing like a wild animal, although he practically was a wild animal.

"I feel so effortlessly powerless in his miserable life." Andy, the star, stated. "That's because you are." Mike retorted laughingly.

"You remind me of the babe," the ginger man but much more extravagant with blond hair pointed out, "What babe?" a goblin asked. "The babe with the power," extravagant blond hair answered, "What power?" goblin asked. "Power of voodoo," extravagant blond hair man answered, "who do?" goblin asked once more. "You do," extravagant blond hair man answered once more, "Do what?" goblin asked, "remind me of the babe." extravagant blond hair man answered in his vibrating deep voice.

"If you can keep a secret, then baby I can keep if you can keep a secret." Brandon said as he swung his arms around Ronnie's neck.

"I wish I could tell everyone about how much I love you," Brandon confessed as he flickered his eyes down to Ronnie's shirt buttons "My muñequita abre tus ojos." Ronnie spoke, "but the world won't listen." Brandon quoted.

"I'm always thinking about you, it's like I can't go anywhere without you." Ronnie admitted as he gently kissed Brandon's forehead.

"You can't tell anyone about me." Brandon reminded as his tragic glassy eyes shifted towards Ronnie's eyes, to which he couldn't even recognise himself behind.

It was simply a case of time, truth and hearts.

All had to get back to their lives, except it could never be the same. Perhaps Ronnie granted them all luxury, or perhaps they slaved their life away back to the field?

Whichever it was, it was never enough; but Brandon's heart was buried in Mexico with a long lost love.

Chapter Text

"Ronnie, giveth me thy bread darling." Brandon instructed. Ronnie, saw clear eyes, and he followed the instructions. He passed the bread, if you could not tell already.

This was in another world, a better world. Well, it must be, and it was.

Brandon shook some flour onto the bread whereas afterwards, he stabbed the bread with the butter.

He furrowed his eyebrows and pouted, an increasingly frustrated expression laid on his face.

He saved some face, he knew he only had one; he always smiled like he meant it. Whatever smile, he smiled the most. Every time he told Ronnie he loved him, he meant it every time. Even if Ronnie hypothetically, spun it sideways and no longer loved him, Brandon would still tell him he loved him. He never wanted Ronnie to feel unloveable, even if he slightly did himself. Although, this was slightly a suicide mission as he'd been stabbed in the back so many, many times for he didn't have any skin but that's just the way it goes.

Ronnie watched in delicate awe as Brandon sprinkled some hazel leaves onto the bread. Ronnie scooped his arms around Brandon's waist, which was quite a nice feel as Brandon's dress was poofy and soft.

"I'm going to miss you.." Brandon muttered in a sorrowful tone, "I'm going to miss you too. I'm going to be gone for one month, okay? And then I'll be back!" Ronnie agreed and attempted to cheer him up.

The attempt failed.

"What if you die? What if you die and then what? I'll be mourning! I'd kill myself! I couldn't even get out of bed! Whose going to give me cuddles? Whose going to hug me? Whose going to bang me like you do on the drums?" Brandon panicked while patting the bread down.

"It'll be fine! You're so desperate for someone to pound you!" Ronnie joked, "I am not a dog on a chain, I use my own brain." Steven sung for the whole world to hear. The world did listen, because this was another world, a better world.

The dramatic wife and the scarred husband ate their bread while cuddling with one another.

That's all the preview we stole from another world, the better world.

Quite a tearfully sacred image, to be honest.