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yandere-society · 3 years

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The Rabbit Hole

Summary: The Windy City in the mid-1920s is a spectacle of lights and sounds, roaring with the excitement of jazz music and swinging dance moves. Amid the brilliant stars of Chicago nightlife, there is a dark underground of secrets, mainly that being the mysterious Wonderland Ball you've been invited to participate in and be crowned the next "Alice". What you don't know is you may or may not be allowed to leave, per the Mad Hatter and a White Rabbit's desires. So, daring and brave as you are, you decide to take a journey down The Rabbit Hole and come face to face with high society - people - as you've never seen them before.

Genre: Yandere; Historical Fiction/ Fantasy Based In The 1920′s; Smut; Thriller; Alice in Wonderland Inspired

Warnings: Yandere themes, Mentions of drug/ alcohol use with/without consent, mentions of “gangsters”, light talks of selling your soul/ the devil/ religious “themes”?, sedative drugs used non-consensually, vivid dreams/nightmares, maybe light profanity? Smut: Non-protected sex (twice), creampies, oral sex (f and m receiving/giving), slight nipple play?, spanking, marking, bruising, slightly rough sex, use of a sex swing/ sex swing intercourse, f and m orgasms. I think that’s it.

Pairings: Jeon Jungkook (White Rabbit) x Reader (Alice) x Kim Seokjin (Mad Hatter), Side Pairing of Johnny (Jonathan) Suh from NCT x Reader, Johnny x Jung Jaehyun from NCT.

Author’s Notes: This is not going to be a historically accurate piece. As much as I am an advocate for research and learning about the times of old, I am only human and I am short on time researching in between my full time job. I have grown up and currently live in Chicago and I have never written a story about the Windy City before so here I am, writing to you about the wonderful city I call home. I am doing my best to stay true to my writing as well as make it as accurate as one can, but please forgive me if there are faults in this story!

We are not doing a collective Valentine’s Day event this year but the contents of this piece have been weighing heavily on my mind, so I asked if I could write this story for a little something-something. I hope you all enjoy it!

Written By: Admin 💖 @therealmintedmango

Also, who do you think the other boys from BTS are from Alice in Wonderland in this story? I’d love to know!

Stepping out of my very own vehicle my future husband’s family sent for me, I take in the sights and the sounds that Chicago provides this snowy afternoon.

People waltz around one another and mingle about, snow crunching under their feet. The faint sounds of jingle bells float down the streets in the chilly air, it smells of popcorn and roasted nuts as well as the sludge of gasoline tainting the snow. A cold breeze gliding across the buildings nearly knocks me off my feet as I look up to my new place of residence, a new high-rise Michigan Ave. The stars above my head seem to sparkle in the dark sky, or are those just the electric lights from the grand buildings surrounding me?

Curious, I think as I continue to have my sights set above the horizon. I’ve certainly strayed very far from the corn fields of back home. Inhaling the sharp, bitterly cold air around me, I feel a sense of dread almost wash over my senses. I knew what I was signing up for when I came here. Jonathan and I discussed it in great detail over the wire.

The reality of the situation is finally sinking into my layers of clothing.

Jonathan Suh, the grandson of Suh Realtor Industries Incorporated - which owns about one third of Chicago - has asked me to marry him. It was seemingly out of the blue too. I was going to spend the next years of my life trying to marry into the best livestock or vegetable farmer in town, not the filthy rich grandson in a large city. It felt like a dream when he called me and begged me to come as soon as possible. I suppose it pays off to be kind to everyone, especially when it felt like it was yesterday we were both in grammar school together.

I drink it all in, the busy sounds, the cold night air that leaves me feeling bitter and raw standing in the street while snow begins to descend from the blackened sky. It feels foreign to me even though it’s only about two hours away from the farm. The breeze blistering in from the west sends a chill up my spine.

This is a new beginning, I ponder to myself as I stretch upwards in the middle of the sidewalk. This is my chance at a better life, this is way better than being some poor, sad farm girl. That’s right! I’m going to be the wife of my childhood friend who just happened to be some rich playboy who has more money than he knows what to do with.

I’m going to be a Suh!

...Even if the whole arrangement is a sham...

“Miss, you are going to freeze to death outside!” Jonathan’s maids rush to usher me out of the cold quickly, but not before I accidentally bump into someone on the busy sidewalk.

“I beg you to pardon me,” I mumble as I set my sights over my shoulder on a man dressed in a long coat with hair as white as the snow currently blanketing the ground. “You’ll have to forgive me, I am just enraptured with how bright Chicago seems to shine at night.”

The man’s seemingly red eyes expand with my excitement, then soften. “No pardon to beg, Miss…?” He queries, a bloom of warmth spreading across his face.

“Suh.” I smile as the men shout from my car they have finished unpacking. “Well, I am the future Mrs. Jonathan Suh. For now I suppose I am still Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Strange, I didn’t think he… Well, never mind that now.” His eyes linger on mine. “Johnny’s got good taste.” I hear him mumble under his breath in a deep tone, slurring his words together in a string. “Well, I can’t wait to see more of you, future Mrs. Jonathan Suh.” He says as he swings his coat behind himself and takes off down the street, the crowd and the night dissolving him like a pill in warm water.

Curious and curiouser this night becomes, I think as the maids finally have enough of me standing about in the cold.

“Do you know who that was?” I ask the hoard of them, hoping someone has the answer to my bump in the night with a rather odd fellow. My heart is beating but I’m not sure what for. I know my place. I know why he called me… My fate was sealed as soon as I got the wire from my future husband.

The collective flock shake their heads and mutter polite “noes” as they lead me up grand staircases of marble and through dim corridors at this time of night, leaving my brain a drifting piece of snow in the blizzard that will surely accumulate outside overnight.

“Right this way.” A young redhead coos as she parades me up what must be my twentieth flight of stairs I’ve climbed this evening. “Master Suh will be so happy you are here at last!” They lead me into a beautiful room with the most lavish furniture I’ve ever seen in my life! Magazines and pictures certainly don’t bestow such fine items with quite the same honor as seeing such beauty in person.

“Madam Suh has a full schedule for you this weekend.” One of the elderly looking women dares to swoon as she says, “Wedding planning, I’m sure, no doubt.” My coat is taken from me and I am given house slippers to wear.

The flock - or really I should call them a herd of lemmings - all agree once more as a butler leads us through a hallway with objects of fine art, pottery, and paintings. Each item is so uniquely wonderful that it would make my brothers’ and sisters’ heads spin if they saw how perfect and polished everything is. How ornate and lavish! Am I to spend my life with fine, intricate pieces of art from all mediums? I wonder if Jonathan has created any of these himself? Would he allow me to paint? I wonder...

“Master Suh,” I inhale, realizing I am right at the threshold of a beautiful oak door. “Miss Y/N Y/L/N has arrived.” The butler announces.

My body feels all fuzzy and nervous for some reason. It’s been many years since I’ve seen my dear friend from when we were still learning how to hop on a bicycle in the country where his family had a small house and property that butted up against my family’s by the little lake in the middle of a corn field.

“Y/N!” A deep, refreshing voice purrs before he embraces me in a tight hug. “How was your ride? Did the car fair well, unlike the weather?” He chuckles as his tall frame dwarfs mine in comparison. The scent of him is most definitely cinnamon, scotch, and leather, which I’m not surprised. All fine things to smell of for certain.

The maids all giggle and mumble their approval and the butlers look away, anxious to gaze upon a woman in another man’s arms. I suppose his gesture of a greeting is very rude, but I don’t mind. Being smack-dab in the middle of my siblings, I feel like nothing phases me anymore, even the hug Jonathan wraps around me.

“Jonathan Suh,” I simper, pulling out of his embrace, “The ride was not too terrible, and my, how tall you’ve grown! And so dapper too.” I sigh earnestly. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

“I hope you say that every day you wake up and I am there beside you.” Jonathan’s brown eyes seem to daze in the glow from the lamp lights in the sitting parlor.

There’s nothing more I hate than an arrogant flirt, not to mention an arrogant flirt with money is all the more trouble. Is this really going to be the rest of my life? Living with Jonathan like this? So contrived and fake… it makes my insides twist.

“I am rather weary though from a day full of travels.” I pretend to yawn, shifting out of his arms bit by bit and heading toward the door. “May I have the delight in seeing you tomorrow?”

“Oh yes, you must be quite tired. I always get sleepy on car rides.’ Jonathan muses as he extends his hand to the door and the staff scramble into place. “Mr. and Mrs. Alan would you please escort Y/N to her room? I will be here but on the other end of the house until we are...you know-”

“Goodnight, Jonathan.” I say almost too quickly after that, leaving almost as swiftly as I’ve come.

Once my hair is down and I am dressed comfortably in my nightgown, I feel like I can take a deep breath again. It feels odd with my hair unpinned, sitting in a brand-new nightgown, overlooking the rocking waves of the lake and the snow that drifts down from the sky. Basking in the sill of my window from the beautiful lights and moonlight shining through my velvet curtains, I hope and pray that every night I spend in Chicago is not as forced and fake as this one has been.

I’m chasing something odd in my dream.

I move between pictures hanging on the walls, through the bellies of grandfather clocks, I emerge through the darkness every time, chasing a little white rabbit with a cottontail through or around objects of grand design. I have never had a dream that felt so vivid and real, like I am actually flying through my thoughts, time of the utmost essence for some unknown reason. I can’t seem to escape a dark feeling looming around me and I feel slightly frightened that I will not catch the little thing.

When I reach for the little dumpling covered in pretty white fur, it lurches forward, propelling my desire to catch up to the little beast.

I descend deeper and deeper, the spotlight in the darkness focused solely on the bunny ahead of me. I can’t reach him, I’m not fast enough, my feet do not carry me quick enough. I call to the animal but it doesn’t hear me, instead it flies between two large velvet curtains.

“Please!” I beg the animal as I pop through the hole in the curtains, shuffling through on my knees. “Where are you taking…me…” My question dies in my throat as I look up to find red eyes, his curly blonde hair waving at me from under a gold top hat, a gold mask from that of a masquerade celebration covering most of his face.

But, I know that soft smirk well now. I’ve replayed it several times already in my mind like the fool I am.

This is the man I met on the sidewalk. I gasp. But, why is he inhabiting my dream?

“Welcome to Wonderland, Alice.” A soft voice wafts from high above the two of us, making me shiver. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

Why am I frightened? Surely this is not a nightmare. I was only following a rabbit and now I am here with these two men.

Slowly, my eyes trail up the large mahogany platform, showcasing a very large, ornately plush gold and maroon seat which houses a man in an all green suit of the finest quality. He is also wearing a mask trimmed with greens and golds, his lush lips pinkened like he had just indulged in delicious raspberry jam pulled into a dark smirk. He sits with the side of his pale face in one of his hands, resting comfortably on the arm of the pretty chair. The man from the street sits on a swing that hangs high from the rafters, silently taking me in. An aura of power and class drips tastefully from every fiber of his being, weighing heavily upon me like he is a hammer and I am but a humble nail.

“Good job chasing rabbits.” The man’s smile further stretches, his amber eyes boring down upon me, making my skin want to jump from my skeleton. “The next step is to find The Rabbit Hole.”

My eyes fling open, a train's loud horn blaring in the distance, the golden morning haze filtering from the curtains across the room. I jolt upward in bed, cold sweat beading my body, tainting the beautiful nightgown the Suhs have given me. I throw the sheets off my bed and clutch my forehead, musing the words of the man in all green over and over to myself in a frenzy.

...What a dreadfully vivid dream...

I’ve been here for almost a week and I’ve lost count of the tea parties and luncheons I’ve attended with Mrs. Suh. The people and the houses and families they all belong to are getting lost to me in the wake of planning for a wedding. Though, I’m not sure how much I am actually planning. Merely pointing between two colors of table placemats and napkins or choosing between a flower or two.

Tonight though, it is another snowy evening on the lakeshore, we are attending a jazz concert at the Sunset Cafe to see a wonderful show performed by the talented Cab Calloway and Louis Armstrong who make the most wonderful music. I was practically buzzing when I heard the news that the Suhs would be taking me this evening. As always, Jonathan and his mother have only two options for me to wear this evening and I must make a choice between them. A silver, more A-lined gown that shows off more skin than one should in the winter with a mink-fur cowl or more fluttering, off the shoulder velvet cobalt-blue style of a ball gown with embroidered golden stars falling from the bust in waves of tulle.

Call me old fashioned, but I choose the one that makes me feel like a princess, not the one that makes me fit in. My thoughts wander between which Suh picked out which dress for me to wear and the dream of me chasing a white rabbit.

I can never seem to catch that rabbit nor have I seen the two men since my first dream. It relieved me, but it also scared me.

A shimmering laugh that is made of moonbeams and stars pulls me from my spell of thought that engrossed me.

The Suhs are dotting and cheerful people, always looking out for their only son in this cruel world. They are wonderful and powerful in their own ways, working the men and ladies in the sitting room of the theater with just a glance or smile of their lips. Mr. Suh smokes a cigar and smacks Jonathan on the back as they stand in the corner away from the ladies. Mrs. Suh includes me in all her conversations, never wanting me to feel lost or dissuaded from a million questions by another matriarch of a well-to-do family.

I can see why Jonathan doesn’t want to disappoint them or the good people of his clan’s name before or after himself.

The room is hazy from the smoky cigars that the men all drag on in between their elaborate conversations about President Coolidge and his beliefs while the women discuss lighter subjects such as traveling to Paris and Morocco as well as tennis. I find my thoughts up in the cloud of smoke that hangs in the room.

“Pardon me, ladies,” Jonathan places a hand gently upon my shoulder, “may I steal Y/N away for a few moments?”

“The concert will begin shortly, Johnny.” Mrs. Suh smiles, casting her charms to her son who smiles with reassurance to his dear mother.

“Don’t fret, mother,” Jonathan grins as she calls him his nickname, “I want to show her off to my college chums.”

Her eyes twinkle in delightful mischief as she swirls her glass of sweet liquor in her hand. “Just be sure to return her in one piece. Y/N has a long day ahead of her tomorrow.”

More wedding planning I’m not privy to I suppose? Such is my life now. High society is fun and all but the pressure is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before… No, my brain is captivated once more by the dark aura of the man from my dream, looming and lingering above me, teeth glimmering in the lim electric light of the room from my lucid dream. That was true, pure evil pressure I wish to never partake in the feeling of ever again.

Jonathan says nothing as he turns from her, ushering me away with his hand placed gently on my shoulder. We move silently and quickly through groups who mingle and giggle, alcohol strong in their glasses and upon their breath as we pass through the crowd of rich socialites.

We stop at one group of gentlemen, but I am only introduced to one handsome man named Jung Jaehyun who fondly shakes Jonathan’s hand and winks at me. What an odd fellow, I tell myself as we dive deeper and deeper into the crowd of people loitering in the fancy sitting room.

“I’m glad you wore the one I picked out.” Jonathan says so low that I may only be able to hear his words. Well, that answers that question then. “These men might eat you alive, so stay as sharp as a blade but soft as a lamb, understand me? They will not leave me be until I introduce you to them.”

“Are they your friends?” I query with a whisper as he pulls me to the edge of the room where young men have beautiful young ladies draped on their elbows.

I have never seen a lady look like they do, but I suppose it is fashionable and “kept up with the times”. I am not so appealing as these ladies are with their skin on display and their heels high, they attract my attention before the men who hold them up do. Their makeup is dark, yet shimmering in the soft glow from the electric lights from above. The fair ladies’ hair is cut so short, their sideways hats and feather headbands merely slip off their sleek and shiny hairstyles. I am in awe of the way they look and envy them for behaving and chatting so freely.

“Do not be scared, but they are budding gangsters who run speakeasies.” My eyes widen with his words, but I do what I am told. “Please do me another favor, Y/N, and become the most desirable woman here.” Jonathan whispers to me before we approach the hoard of people in front of me. “I will set you free from this cage as soon as I can.”

I can only nod as my demeanor switches like that of a light switch.

Walking up to these men and women I’ve never met, I invoke the acting spirit of Jane West for Jonathan. I demand my attention. I am the most beautiful creature in this sitting room, if not all of the world. I did not go to college but I am going to show you how well read and cultured I am. I am going to be a Suh and I command you all to bow down to me in this instant.

“Suh!” A tall man with coiffed, sandy blonde locks beams as he steps away from his fair darling on his arm tonight. “You dog! I didn’t think you’d grace us with your presence this evening!” They shake hands and laugh at nothing vigorously as I look between the two before the blonde catches my eye. They are pretty amber eyes that remain half-lidded and surely dazzle in the glow from chandeliers above. He’s not as tall as Jonathan, but he is handsome. “This must be-”

“Y/N Y/L/N.”

A voice from behind the blonde says clearly, setting to be free from the shadow of Jonathan’s friend.

It’s the white rabbit! I think as I try to hold myself together. He looks rather dapper in a white and gold waistcoat with tails, a top hat making him appear to be as formal as one can be. This is the gentleman I bumped into the streets, but I cannot press out of my head. I want to tell him to stay out of my dreams, but I fear he will think me mad if I declare such a bold thing without expressing my thoughts further.

“You know of my future bride, Jeon?” I feel the grip upon my shoulder tighten and breath being held from above me. Don’t fret, Jonathan, I would never tell anyone. I promise. Your secret is safe with me.

The friend with his hair as white as the fallen snow looks at me passively, eyes rimmed red like he can’t sleep a wink either. “I met her on the sidewalk, John, but we’ve never been properly introduced.” He bows and takes my blue-colored gloved hand in his white ones. He kisses the top of my hand and in this ball gown-like dress I am indeed fulfilling my fantasy of pretending to be a beautiful princess. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, future Mrs. Jonathan Suh.”

“Y/N,” Jonathan says, exhaling the concerned breath he’s been holding in, his grip returning to normal as well. “These are my friends from college: Mr. Kim Namjoon, whose family owns one third of the city like mine does, and Mr. Jeon Jungkook, who makes up the triangle of the most powerful families of Chicago.”

“At your service.” Jungkook says with a cheeky grin stretching across his face, kissing the top of my hand once more.

The way he looks up at me makes butterflies trapped in my body flutter and flounce about. But I cannot swoon or succumb to a young man so openly. Jonathan is counting on me.

“I’m delighted to meet Jonathan’s friends from his schooling.” I say in the same charming manner Mrs. Suh has produced all week.

“Forgive me for this is a bold question, future Mrs. Suh, but, will you be getting a gown made?” Namjoon asks me as he sips his scotch on the rocks.

“I think tomorrow I am going for a fitting, yes.” I nod my head, smiling just the right amount.

“Then it should be crafted by the finest in the Windy City, Kim’s Couture on the corner of Washington and LaSalle Street. Have you heard of the establishment before?” Namjoon queries.

“Indeed! I have!” I exclaim happily, my eyes wide as his stay half-lidded as though he is sleepy, though he smiles earnestly.

“Then I must insist you have a treasured wedding gown made by my seamstresses.” He hands me a white business card with only his name upon it. I stare at it until he taps it twice. “They will take excellent care of you, I promise.”

“Oh-ho!” A soft, almost melliferous voice rings out behind me. No... “This must be the infamous bride-to-be!” I know this voice! Fear rattles through me, making me tremble as I look over the shoulder Jonathan is not draped over to look at the mysterious voice. Time is slow as molasses as I face the man from my dream, clad all in a green waistcoat, vest, and top hat, wolfishly grinning at me.

“Ah, this is my eldest brother,” Namjoon muses as the electric lights flash, indicating the performance will begin soon, “Seokjin Kim.”

Kim Seokjin...

I feel like I know everything about this man yet nothing at all. He is the type of man who is a brilliant summer on the outside and stormy winter on the inside. The smile on his lips - that is the color of the inside of a cherry tart - is warm, yet cold all in the same breath. He appears to be a powerful man of high class, wrapped in an enigma of grace and power. But there is a scent of something malicious in the air as he closes the gap between us and gets down on his knee to kiss upon my hand.

I’m not sure what made me do it, but something comes over me, the flight or fight instinct animals possess lurches out of me in this moment.

“Why is a raven like a writing desk?” I ask, pulling my arm away from him.

Seokjin’s bright amber eyes slowly travel up my ball gown, disbelief and confusion colors his good looking features.

Mouths open in shock and my heart drops, but I feign a lie, turning out of Jonathan grasp, and quickly say, “Forgive me, for I feel faint.” I run to the bathroom in the hall as everyone piles into the main room of the Sunset Cafe, heart pounding in my chest and cheeks on fire.

I’m so sorry Jonathan, I did not mean to make a fool out of you. There is just something about the way Seokjin’s gaze is so feral that chills me to the bone.

A hand rests upon Jungkook’s shoulder while he continues to longingly gaze at the door as if he was willing me to come back with his mind. “Don’t worry, Jeon.” Seokjin purrs in his ear, amber gleam set upon the door. “She is the one who chases you every night, not the other way around.”

“I know, hyung.” Jungkook whispers as the brass begins to trumpet through the building. “When do we make our move?”

“Soon.” Seokjin chuckles darkly, guiding the younger of the boys to follow behind him. “Very soon we will have our glorious tea party.”

The subject of marriage has always been an odd one to me, I think to myself as maids and fashion consultants from the Kim’s dress boutique flutter and coo around me.

My parents married but it was never for love. I knew that, my siblings and myself knew that, yet they both loved us all the same. My mother and father married as more of a “good match on paper” sort of situation, than they were truly, madly in love. Still, they never fought, my father never hit my mother, never drank himself silly, never talked to another woman. My mother upheld the same standard and raised us all with love in her hardworking heart. I knew she was aware that I haven’t spoken to Jonathan since we were young children and that I would soon be in the same boat if I accepted his offer.

“A lifetime of money doesn’t equal happiness.” She told me. “You should marry for love, not for any green or gold.”

I agree. I know this full well. I’m not one to be stingy or greedy by any means. I don’t want to be an actress in a picture show or model for a beautiful Channel garment. And though I do want love in my life, I want a secure future. I am the middle child of middle-class farmers. The best match I could have made besides this one was with a cattle farmer or a man who works in the stockyards on the south side of Chicago.

It’s selfish for me to do this not only for myself but to my mother as well.

But, I am here and like my family, I will be fiercely loyal to the man I will call my husband. If not, call me a bold-faced liar and take me and my words to the grave.

Jonathan Suh is not a bad man for who he prefers in the sheets. I know that and have never felt such a way to treat someone less of me if they do prefer the company of one sex over another. I will not break the promise I’ve made to him, but I cannot help but feel like a songbird trapped in a tight, metal cage for the decision I’ve made to help him.

Due to the poor weather Chicago has currently come down with, the wedding has been postponed until further notice.

When I wired my family to tell them the news, my mother answered. I was a bit more than surprised that she almost sounded relieved when I told her the news. I promised I would wire soon and my younger sisters begged me to take them to the city to go shopping at Marshall Fields. My father sounded passive at first when the telephone wire was transferred to him by my youngest brother after he told me the family cat, Cheshire, had gone missing.

Truth be told, I am also more than happy to exhale a breath and not worry about someone questioning me about my upbringing. Or having Mrs. Suh and the don of high-class ladies and waist-coated men galloping around every breath I take.

I can finally relax, I think as I pull out a book in the study as Jonathan reads the Chicago Tribune on the couch across the way from me. We get along well, I realize. Silence suits us both. No tricks, not faking our way through hordes of important people. We have to conserve and save our energy for when we face the people mercilessly wanting to know everything and anything about us, good ole’ Jonathan and I...

No, not Jonathan anymore… I am to be his wife, and he...my…

I peer at him from over my book on flowers, losing interest in the pages.

Can I really pretend we are to be an item forever? Will one of us crack or slip up? It seems like we are stuck in a circle now, both of us floating in a pool of choices we will surely drown in.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Someone knocks at the door, plucking me from my fever of thoughts. I fully peer over the pages in my hands, pretending like I was in fact engrossed in the origin story of an author I enjoyed as a girl.

“Enter.” Jonathan says without skipping a beat, not looking up from his black and white ink. His eyes scan the pages, following the drumming beat of the grandfather clock next to the roaring fireplace. But, now that I study him closer, I’m unsure if he was actually reading or just musing to himself like I was moments ago.

“The post, sir.” Butler James reports as he opens the door, my handmaiden Emily gliding up to us with a silver plate in her hands.

“Thank you, Emily.” Jonathan gives her a half-smile as he takes the single envelope off the tray, slicing it open with trepidation.

I look at the blood-red colored wax seal as he flips the paper, revealing a knight chess piece glaring upside down at me.

Jonathan scans the letter passively at first, his orbs lazily scanning the pages, then suddenly his eyes ignite with rage behind them. “No.” He says softly, red flushing to his handsome face. He rips the paper up into shreds then, aggression and hatred oozing from every pore for some unknown reason. He gets up as he throws the scraps in the fire with vigor as butler James, Emily, and I all stare at him like he’s grown a second head. “Don’t you dare go.” He warns me, irises blaring with unmeasurable loathing. “Those people are dangerous.” Jonathan practically snarls as he exits the room in a fit of rage, stomping down the hall as we look on stunned and slack-jawed at what had just happened.

From what I can tell, Jonathan isn’t one to get upset easily or lash out so that letter must have set him off. But what could it have been?

It really has sparked my curiosity, that’s for certain.

Where wasn’t I supposed to go and who was so dangerous?

I got the answer the next day as I read a book about traveling the jungles of South America.

“Miss!” My handmaiden whispers like a hiss as she enters the study. “Miss!”

“Yes, Emily?” I smile, putting my book down as she flutters to my side in a nervous frenzy. “What is the matter?”

“I snagged this from the post, miss.” She hands you the letter you saw the previous day with Jonathan, the one that he got enraged over. “Please open it quickly, miss, before the butler spots it! They want us to destroy anything with this seal on it!”

I do as I am told, opening up the letter addressed to both Jonathan and myself with the odd wax seal to find an invitation inside.

You Are Cordially Invited To Participate In:

THE WONDERLAND BALL

A Masquerade Party To Determine The Next “Alice”

For Directions Follow Us Down The Rabbit Hole

Knock Thrice For The Door Mouse To Let You Inside

Cheers,

The ‘Mad Hatter’ & Company

“How curious...” I muse as my eyes trail over the letter over and over, wondering what has Jonathan all in a panicked rage. “Well, I don’t even know where “The Rabbit Hole” is so I shan’t be going.”

“Tis’ a speakeasy, Miss.” Emily says her eyes wide as she reads the paper with you. “They say it’s the most fun one in all of downtown!” She giggles. “Shall I fetch you a gown for the ball?”

“No.” I shake my head with a small smile, hanging her back the letter. “If Jonathan said he doesn’t want me to go, I won’t.” I pick up my book as she slightly deflates, wanting to paint me up for the festivities I was invited to. “Please burn this now, Emily, so you don’t get in trouble.”

“Right away, Miss.” Emily bows a little before she heads out of the room, leaving me to daydream in the middle of the study in peace.

“How long must we wait?” Jungkook pesters Seokjin tirelessly who looks down from his wooden pedestal in the back room of the very peculiar club. “I am afraid a letter and her dreams are not going to cut it.” Jungkook snorts, frustration flashing in his red eyes.

“Mm, yes…” Seokjin rubs his chin with his white gloved hand, “Johnny boy has been hiding our little Alice away from our prying eyes, hasn’t he?”

“Yes!” Jungkook stomps his foot like that of a child, fists balled into tight fists at his sides. “And I was promised a maiden for all the hard work I’ve done for you!”

Seokjin laughs darkly then, the sound echoing off the walls of his private chambers. “Jungkook, I’m not sure if you understand that poisoning people and taking out a few smaller families in our beloved city is considered hard work.” He stops then, Seokjin’s usually light voice dripping with malice when he says, “But, I suppose this is one way to end the Suhs and get the last jewel on the crown you are desiring in your attempts to rule the city.”

“Is everything in place for the ball?” Jungkook grits his teeth as he stares up into the man who could end him in one go, but is choosing to help the young gangster. “Your magic won’t fail us now?”

Seokjin winks at him, spending him a flying kiss as he says, “It's going to be dreadfully delightful.” Ending the Suhs, managing to take out some more people in big crime families in Chicago, and adding one more perfect woman to his growing collection of pawns.

Sure, he was mad and about to destroy several lives in the process, but hell if he wasn’t half brilliant and good looking while doing so.

“Mr. Jeon!” I gasp as I peer at the man at my penthouse doorstep, covered in white flakes of heavy, wet snow sticking to his black trench coat and bowler hat. Everyone, even most of the maids were out this afternoon which is why I find myself in front of the door to the penthouse.

“Good evening, Y/L/N.” Jeon Jungkook smiles as he looks down at me earnestly. “Is your future husband not at home?” He whispers as he looks around the empty foyer, red-rimmed eyes glancing over the dim electric lights in the hallway.

I flush. My mind was hazy remembering my kiss with him and the other man that is never far away, Kim Seokjin, from the depths of my dreams. My dreams need to leave me be or I may turn into a codfish with the way they keep my head spinning. They haunt me so, the way my brain demands my nightmares to be replayed over and over like this.

“I’m afraid not, he said he’d be out for the night, taking care of something important at the office.” I say with a fake sigh, shaking my head. Truthfully, he’s been acting very strange lately and I can't quite put my finger on the reason for his odd behavior. Ever since he got that letter… Come to think of it, I haven’t seen any post since that strange night. I’ll ask Emily about it in the morning.

“I see.” Jungkook says softly. The grandfather clock chimes from the sitting room and I am suddenly aware of what time it is. I’m severely underdressed in my baby blue lounge attire, completely ill-prepared for meeting company. Books about faraway lands with princes and kings were the only thing occupying my time this evening and I’m embarrassed to even think that. “In that case, your outfit will just have to do, I suppose…”

Jungkook suddenly steps closer to me in one long stride, closing the gap between me and him. My heart skips a beat, his pupils dilate, my words run dry as he snakes one arm around my back, the other holding my chin with his thumb and forefinger.

“Mr. Jeon-” I stammer, unable to call for help, now that this man has me in his grasp.

“I have been willing you to come and follow me, to give into your darkest desires, but still you resist me.” The young man hisses down at me, brows knit with confusion. “You are the only thing anyone talks about and I cannot stand it any longer.” My mouth hangs open. His nostrils flare as he makes his move. “You will be mine. Not locked away in this tower while Johnny is out and about with another man. You will be our new Alice.”

Before I can say anything, he pours a vile from his pocket into my mouth, holding it above my arms so I can’t smack it away. It tastes like roast turkey and strong alcohol and I try to claw and get away but I cannot as Jungkook holds my mouth open; my tongue feels numb and my arms feel like jelly, going limp in Jungkook’s arms. The only thing I can remember before completely blacking out is the little tag on the side of the bottle that says “DRINK ME”, tied with a pink ribbon hanging from the tiny glass and the smell of his cologne which reminds me of musk with a dash of black pepper.

Faint sounds of brass and strings pull me from my unconscious state in a flurry.

My brain is working hard, producing series and strings of thoughts. Why did Mr. Jeon Jungkook do that to me? Does Jonathan know where I am? In the same breath, where am I? What was that drink? Have I been poisoned? I look at myself on the red heart-patterned bedsheets. I look fine. There is no sign or feelings that I’ve been harmed, no bruises, and most importantly of all, there is no blood. There is no indicator at all that I’ve been harmed at all, which makes me sigh in relief.

But still, where have I been taken? This surely is not a room in the Suh residence.

A room with no windows, a giant bed in the middle of the room, large wooden pedestals with various wax candles lit drip down the sides surround me, red velvet curtains drape the walls making the warm room seem even more dim, and a wooden swing all decorate the space I find myself trapped in.

I can feel the color drain from my face when I realize that I’ve been here before. In fact, I’ve been here many, many times - almost every night. Not in the flesh but in my dreams. The only thing that is missing are the two men I see every night…

All the little hairs on my body stand at alert, worry coloring my thoughts, and I feign a small gasp in the large room.

With a lump in my throat and my heart thumping so hard I fear it might try to escape my chest, I run from the room.

My blue nightgown flutters behind me, time seems to slow as my bare feet carry me through the rooms from my dreams - though it’s backwards this time. I dash like a mad person, twirling and twisting my way through the room with mirrors on every side, seeing myself panting like a dog running so hard in the reflective glass. Though, I am happy to see I have no scratches upon my face either. I run through the room with clocks hanging all over the walls chiming and ticking at different times, springing through the belly of a giant, tall grandfather clock. I trip over the hems of my dress in the room with a long table in the middle which appears to stretch on for miles in this long room. There are various tea sets, cups, and pots along with tea cakes and sweet treats placed in a perfectly chaotic mess on the table as the eyes of various animal heads stare at me from their places hanging on the walls.

As I shimmy through the small door leading to the room with the walls full of water and sea creatures from the ocean, I pause my panting and sputtering as I spot Mr. Jung Jaehyun with his back pressed up against the glass. He is moaning, panting himself, a masquerade mask dangling in his hand, legs wrapped around the waist of a tall man in a vest who is rolling his hips sensually into his. My eyes widen as I figure out what the two of them are doing quickly and avert my attention. My thighs rub together, a strange fire grows in my lower abdomen, and I know I shouldn’t be looking but there is nothing but pure bliss on Mr. Jung’s face.

I can’t stop, I remind myself as my feet continue to carry me through the rooms I know so well.

Slinking away across a far wall full of lobsters without being caught, I hear Mr. Jung Jaehyun mewl one singular name, “Johnny!” I want to turn around, catch my “future” husband's side profile as he makes love to another man, confirm it’s him, but my mind flashes back to meeting Jaehyun for the first (and only) time and how they touched each other so fondly. Jungkook’s words ring in my words as I hear laughing coming from beyond the rooms filled with tanks and gilled beasts.

Keep going. I can make it out of this place from my nightmares.

The next room is filled with more people, though it’s hazy at best in here. There are giant hookah pipes in the middle of floor cushions, people with and without masks on touching each other so unabashedly, some naked, half-nude, or still in their ball gowns all laying over each other in a pleasure-filled party I was slightly jealous I haven’t been invited to.

“Ms. Y/L/N?” A deep yet clear baritone purrs over the sounds of jazz music and groans of love-making. I turn my head to his voice, feet skidding to a halt as I look at Mr. Kim Namjoon in his half-naked glory, navy blue silk robe hanging off his shoulders exposing a lovely chest, half-lidded eyes tracing my form like I am a piece of delicate meat he wishes to indulge in. “What are you doing without your mask?” He snaps his fingers, chuckling lightly as he takes another drag of his long silver pipe. “Twins, get her a mask!”

“Where am I?” I query as I feel the presence of two figures slowly approaching me out of the dim haze. “Who are you people?” It feels wrong to be here, to witness this. It doesn’t feel right. I feel out of place and my body is begging me to run and my legs tremble like a fawn.

His brows furrow as he takes the tube out of his mouth, blowing smoke rings in my face. “Who are you to question me, Y/N?” He snickers as the “twins” catch my arms, placing a mask over my face as I struggle. “You are but another “Alice” to me. Take her to the ball, you two. The rabbit and the hatter are dying to see her, I’m sure.” They tie the mask around me successfully, leading me out of this room into the next one which I know is the one where the floor is a giant chess board.

“Please,” I plead with the good looking twins who march on like the loyal soldiers to this strange cause, “what is all this?” The music and the chatter and maniacal laughing is growing louder as we prance down the hallway with portraits of people who are dressed in all white and all red. “I just want to know…”

“Suppose we ought to tell her?” The taller of the two says after a moment of silence between the three of us.

“Suppose we ought not to.” The shorter one shakes his head as he carries on in the quest to take me somewhere. “Boss will be mad.”

“You are to be the belle of the ball.” The taller one says with a viscous boxy grin.

“The new “Alice”.” The short one with fluffy lips nods this time.

“Everyone keeps saying that, but I don’t know what it means?” I say as I hold my breath, about to waltz into the strange chess-board-like room.

“The most beautiful, wonderful, talented, special, magical-” The taller twin rambles on.

“The most perfect woman at The Wonderland Ball is called “Alice” until the next one.” The shorter one states softly as he inhales a giant breath. They both let me go, pushing me forward as the drapery of the simple heart-patterned curtain gives way and I am standing at the top of a grand staircase while hundreds of people from below all gasp and stare up at me.

As soon as I regain my footing a spotlight hits me and causes me to shield me eyes away from the bright light bearing down upon me. The upbeat music falls silent and I am acutely aware that I am standing here in my loungewear and not properly dressed to be at the forefront of attention this evening.

“And now the moment you’ve all been waiting for!” The voice that makes my hair stand up on end purrs as his lush lips soothe the microphone on the little stage they’ve set up for the jazz band to play on. Kim Seokjin, my eyes lock with his which dance with mischief, his smile greedy, dressed to the nines in a rich green suit. “The crowning of the belle of the ball, the apple of all our eyes, the one that shines brighter than anyone in the picture shows, Ms. Y/N Y/L/N!”

A roar of cheering, clapping, and brass music erupts as a white haired-man with a stretched, gummy smile that doesn’t fade takes my hand and leads me down the black and white staircase. The noises seemingly die in my ears as the man on my arm says nothing, grins like a cat about to catch a mouse in its claws. Time slows, people moving and waving at me become a blur as I see who is waiting at the bottom of the staircase.

Mr. Jeon Jungkook.

The man on my arm notices how tense I am and he ever so slightly turns his head and says to me in a deep voice, “They are not going to harm you. Jungkook is infatuated with you.” My cheeks heat up. “Seokjin is helping him accomplish his dreams because he signed his life away to the servitude of others for as long as he shall live.”

“Signed his life away?” I breathe, eyes never leaving Jungkook in a white waistcoat.

“You can’t get something for free in this world.” The cat-like man growls as we are almost there. “You’ve heard of an eye for an eye, correct?” I node slightly. “A soul of servitude so he can produce strange magic, according to him and the Red Witch of Underland.”

My heart nearly stops realizing what has happened. “The devil?”

“Bingo, babe.” The cat-man chuckles a deep rasp, sliding his arm away from mine. “Have fun.”

“Now you kids have fun chasing rabbits!” Seokjin’s voice crackles through the microphone. “Everyone, enjoy the last few hours of the wonderland ball!” More hooting and hollering echoes in the building as I am exchanged into Jungkook’s strong arms.

“I thought you’d never make it.” He smiles from under his white mask at me. He takes my hand and leads me to be embraced on the dance floor. Seokjin smirks at us as he begins to sing a popular pop song everyone swoons at.

“Would you like to tell me what this is all about?” I query with a sneer on my lips. “Why am I here? Why have you poisoned me?”

“I have not nor would I ever harm you.” Jungkook grips my waist tighter. “I merely gave you a strong sedative so that I could bring you to our wonderful palace.”

“Why?” I question as he twirls me around his outstretched arm.

“Because from the moment I bumped into you, you have been the only thing consuming my mind.” He earnestly tells me, sorrow coating his eyes. “I’m not sure what trap Johnny has ensnared or tricked you in but I very much hate seeing him lock you away from the world.”

“You’re wrong.” I state angrily, glaring at him.

“He doesn’t care about you. He likes to frolic about with diplomats’ sons, not farmers’ daughters.” Jungkook smiles at me.

“That’s not true…” I mumble, my eyes looking away from his red-rimmed ones boring down upon me. “I-I am marrying Jonathan for my own personal reasons.”

“Oh, ho?” Jungkook softly chuckles, leaning over, turning my gaze back to him as he gently caresses my cheek. “Do you really believe that, darling?”

“I do...I do! I-I came here willingly.” I tremble, my facade I’ve been trying to convince myself of this whole time crackling under the pressure of his words. “I l-love…” My words linger as I look beyond Jungkook, looking up to see, “...Jonathan…” walking toward myself in the middle of the dance floor.

“Jeon!” Jonathan says, Mr. Jung Jaehyun trailing behind him, eyes wide and scared when they find mine. The male in the waistcoat holding me turns his head to the noise, the brass music climaxing, the gasps of people Jonathan is stepping between couples dancing in the soft electric light from above - I feel like my heart is going to burst. My future husband pulls his arm back, fists clenched, ready to hurt Jungkook, and with an exhale I close my eyes fearing the worst was about to ensue.

The electric lights in the strange ballroom give out in the same second.

People scream all around me, a loud thud is heard and I feel like something unexpected is about to occur, the atmosphere heavy and full of invisible pressure.

“Release the jabberwocky!” A voice echoes as chaos ensues.

“Come with me.” A voice purrs, ripping me away from Jungkook’s arms. I feel almost empty as shouting and yelling break out in the middle of the dance floor. “I will protect you, Y/N, my crown jewel.” My stomach pits hearing him say my name, tickling my ear like the serpent that led Eve to eat the apple of her demise.

Kim Seokjin.

With a snap of his fingers, we are back in the room I started out this evening in and where my dreams always have me end at. I land on the bed in a huff and he ends up sitting upon the swing, looking at me with a triumphant smirk on his luscious lips. There is a certain air about him now that doesn’t seem so threatening, so serious now for some reason. Perhaps it’s him sitting upon the swing like that of a child? I haven’t the slightest clue.

“Where am I?” I demand, glowering at Seokjin from across the way.

“Curiosity often leads to trouble, my dearest Y/N.” Seokjin chuckles darkly, eyes roaming my body, a knowing look on his features. “I think before your marriage you are looking for a little trouble, if you catch my drift.”

Trouble…

My mind completely spirals remembering the scenes of people entangled with one another, their mouths working in tandem with each other, their slippery pink tongues entwined in a passionate battle for dominance. Mr. Jung Jaehyun’s face twisted in pleasure, moaning and mewling as his lover - my future husband - was thrusting vigorously.

A lightbulb finally goes off in my head.

“You want me to give into you both then my dreams will end?” My voice shakes as I query to Seokjin who continues to lightly push back and forth on the swing. “Then you will let me leave?”

His eyes flicker with a hungry vigor to them, gleaming in the dim candlelight. “Precisely.” His soft voice cuts the atmosphere like a sharp blade, leaving me with a chill radiating down my spine. “Let’s have some fun, “Alice”.”

“As long as you promise I am to be set free from all of...this.” I gesture around the room as he makes a come hither motion with his fingers at me.

“You have my word.”

Somehow, I don’t believe him, but I am desperate for any way out of this wretched place I can find.

So, I will use the body I was blessed with to the fullest extent.

I am a loyal woman. I step toward the man on the swing, my hands coming up to the ties around my chest and my waist. His eyes spark with a ravenous hunger in the depths of his orbs. I know that I am not doing a decent thing. Seokjin snaps his fingers again, all his clothes disappearing but his green top hat, vanishing before my very eyes. I know I am more than what I am succumbing to right now. But my stomach does feel hot and my thighs rubbing together is making me feel faint for some reason. My garments fall to the floor in a soft patting sound and I lose my breath in the same moment.

Don’t tell me I actually want this…?

I stand in front of him on the swing and I can’t help but bite my lip as my eyes roam his pale figure, tracing down his collarbones to his sculpted abdominal muscles he has been hiding. Did he sell his soul to the devil to become handsome too I wonder?

“So beautiful.” He revels looking at me unabashed, a wolfish grin spreading across his pretty face. Part of me wants him to touch me, to caress the underside of my breast, to trace the outline of my hips with his fingertips, but he doesn not.

I have to remind myself this isn’t for me. This is for the man that has been tormenting me.

“Get me ready for you.” Seokjin commands, smirk still spread across his face. I comply, dropping to my knees to be faced with a large member swinging forth from the middle of his legs on the swing. “And you will address me as “Sir”, understand?”

“Yes, sir.” I respond, biting my lip as I look from his eyes to his member once more.

“Suck.” He chuckles lightly, pointing to his middle and I can’t help but follow this simple instruction.

I don’t tease him, though I’m not really sure I know what I am doing in the first place. I swirl the flat of my tongue over his mushroom-tipped head several times. He moans in response, his hands coming off the swing’s ropes to hold my hair from my face as I swallow him further down my wet cavity. My middle aches and pulses, empty, missing something as I steady myself against Seokjin’s thighs.

“Good little girl.” Seokjin hums, his sound voice making me feel appreciated. The sound vibrating through to my own middle, making me groan around him.

I bob my head up and down his long length, enjoying the way he hums and gasps in response to my efforts. It’s a little hard to breathe I think as I continue my pace, nose hitting Seokjin’s pubic bone, smelling the most intimate part of him.

My dominant hand grabs his member at the base, working him in tandem with my mouth. Up and down his thick member I go, reveling in every twitch and rumble that flies out of his throat. The swing starts to sway with my rhythmic movements, bobbing him back and forth with vigor, tears climb to my eyes. The tip of him hits the back of my mouth, making me gag and choke on his wonderful cock. The heat was pooling in the middle of my stomach and I fear I am going to lose my mind. I pick up the motions of my mouth and hand, tears skating down my pinkened cheeks, his grip tightening around the base of my skull, digging into my scalp.

It burns… But, I also enjoy it. This feeling...so wet and tight and I feel so evil and sinful but the pleasure is driving me mad.

“Baby girl.” There’s warning in his tone as I pop off his cock in an instant, looking up to him with big worried eyes. His head was leaned back, not focused on looking directly at myself, but the feeling of my lips and fingertips. “Up.” He commands once more, head twisting back to a comfortable position to stare at me.

I scramble to my feet, missing the feeling of him in my mouth already, not to mention aching for him in the middle of my legs. I rub my thighs together for some easy friction, knowing that it won’t help me much at this point.

Seokjin moves his hand to stroke against his giant member in his palm and I lock my orbs in place on the slit of his cock where a clear liquid was oozing out. My mind is truly hazy at best, as I just stand there and watch him stroke himself up and down in a lazy fashion. I bite my lip once more.

I do want this. I am almost ashamed to admit that I want this man.

“Are you going to be good and let me use you?” Seokjin’s dirty words make my middle pool and contort with more of a raging fire.

“Y-Yes, sir.” I say again, cheeks hot and damp from sucking his cock moments ago.

His nostrils flare, his cock twitches in his grasp as he motions to sit upon his middle. “I bet you’re so wet for me.” He chuckles, smile darkening with his words.

Seokjin eases me down on his thick member, my hole so wet, so slick, allowing him to stretch my clenching walls in an easy motion. I gasp, eyes popping out of my head. My nails dig into his shoulder blades, back arching with his giant, twitching dick tight inside of me. I wrap my legs around his lean waist, his pale skin flexing in the candlelight with his movements as he stills, letting my hips sink down into the base of his cock.

“Baby girl.” Seokjin purrs, breath tickling my ear as he throbs inside of me. “I need you.” He growls, littering the crook of my neck with sloppy kisses. He positions us just so on the swing, readying us to begin when he deems necessary.

“P-Please use me, s-sir-r!” I mumble in the base of his neck, feeling high on this pleasure-filled pain.

“I live to serve.”

I gasp as he starts moving his hips inside of my center, bucking up into my body with a fevered pace instantly. The swing moves back and forth and I feel like the motion is going to make me feel his body sliding in and out of me too well. I cling to him for dear life, my grip surely bruising him or harming him in some way as he slides in and out of my slicked out center at a brutal rhythm.

Tears find my eyes again as he nips at my neck, marking me up with tender love bites. I’m a howling, moaning mess, losing my sanity. I am finally full of Seokjin’s girth, filling me up beyond desire.

Seokjin kisses my lips then in his, melting our mouths together in a hurry. He holds my face in his palms, grunting and groaning for me, and only me. His tongue enters my mouth in search of something unknown, moaning into my lips laced together with his hot mouth connected with my pink tongue. He rolls his saliva coated tongue into mine in haste, need seeping into my senses, consuming my thoughts as he thrusts up in me, using the swing as a propellant to ease us forward and backward.

“Feels...so-o..good~!” I moan in between our passionate kisses.

Seokjin just growls like a feral animal in response. The tip of his cock kisses my cervix continuously, brushing past a spot inside of me that instantly makes me quake. He rockets himself against me, rutting his body against my core in sync with his hips slamming into mine. Seokjin expels filth from his mouth about filling me to the brim with his seed, seeing my stomach swollen and full of his children, his warm breath hitting my ear making me shudder in response.

I can’t focus, my climax getting ready to pop at any moment. Wet noises fill the dark room, as Seokjin’s rough speed of his length in and out of my molten, wet center continues. My erect nipples swirl on his pale chest, circling quickly as he bounces me up and down his giant cock, swinging through the air like some sexual trapeze artist.

“Are you going to be good to me?” He asks me, smirk present in his tone, pace almost blinding now as he pushes in and out of me with a need so heavy and strong I can practically smell it rising from his skin. “Are you going to let me fill you up, my little doll?” Seokjin snarls into my skin.

“Pleaseeeee!” I practically scream, eyes flying open as he hits my center at just the right spot that makes me see white.

“Ah-ah!” He tsks. “What do we say?”

“Please, sir!” I mewl and gasp, thighs quaking in his hold, my juices squelching out of me as he continues to thrust into my sensitive molten core. “Seokjin!” I cry while he growls into the scorching skin of my neck inhaling sharply as he slams his hips into my shivering body. “Sir!”

Seokjin grunts, cock spurting his seed into me with a need so raw, so feral he finds his footing hard to maintain on the swing, stilling us from moving about, holding my hips tightly down upon him. He sucks harshly on my skin as he too shudders and grunts, biting down on the crook of my neck, stretching my clenching walls around his member as he fills me with his hot white seed.

My cries of pleasure fill the small room, my pleasure-filled haze coming to a close as Seokjin shifts us - still joined together - to the bed in the middle of the room. I hold onto Seokjin as he keeps his seed inside of me, feeling like I just had the ride of my life on top of him. My climax dies down, my first high fading away, fog around my brain being lifted temporarily as my nails rake over shoulders I’ve definitely marked up.

A cool, damp towel appears with a wave of his arms, stroking my middle with it delicately cleaning up the mess I’ve made. “How does it feel to be connected with the devil?” Seokjin sneers as he pulls out of me, making my center ache and twitch for him.

My eyes grow wide and my lips part but before I can say anything Jungkook bursts in the room.

“Am I late?” Jungkook pants as he looks awestruck by me on the bed.

“For a very important date.” I gaze back to Seokjin who is now fully dressed, smirking that soft, playful smile like he usually does at Mr. Jeon. “Don’t worry, I was just getting her ready for you, Jungkookie.”

Jungkook eyes him with narrowed orbs, but buys the lie Seokjin is selling and proceeds to strip himself of his white waistcoat. “What is on the menu tonight?” His red-rimmed irises bore into mine and I feel self-conscious suddenly. He circles the bed in the manner like that of a wolf would as he finishes stripping himself of any dressy garments, though his slacks remain on.

“The one you most desire out of everything in this world.” Seokjin purrs, stepping up to take his seat on his pedestal high above us.

Is he going to watch us?

“Fuck,” Jungkook growls, dropping to his knees in front of the bed suddenly. He pulls me closer to him by my ankles, throwing my thighs apart so my center is exposed to him in the rawest form. He stares at my glistening middle as I try to close my legs with a little, pathetic whimper.

“Don’t.” The rabbit-like man moans wantonly, holding onto my ankles loosely. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful, you know that, right?” His hands glide up my thighs achingly slow, holding me in pace for his eyes to ravage as they please.

The fire in my lower stomach has returned, hungry and ready to go for more.

His warm fingertips make it to my inner thighs, kneading the flesh there tenderly, so close to my throbbing core that I almost beg him with a cry to dip down into me, but I refrain, hanging on to every trace or brush of his hands against my scorching flesh.

“What do you want, my darling?” He groans into my inner thigh, lips ghosting my sensitive flesh there, inching closer to my heated skin with his upper body.

“Please.” I finally ask, begging, almost choking out the word, forgetting Seokjin watching us from above.

His dominant hand finally finds my nether lips, tracing them up and down with his two longest fingers but not exactly touching me where I am aching quite yet. “Please what?” He teases, stroking me up and down slowly, holding his feral gaze in mine, amber eyes seemingly on fire.

“Please, Jungko-“

He slaps my middle with little force or malice behind it, but I jolt, mewling aloud, wanting him to secretly do it again.

Jungkook goes back to tracing my lips in the middle of my body, smug smirk seated on his devilishly handsome face. “You are so wet, darling.” He slaps me again, though this time I want it more than I’d actually care to admit.

“Jung-” I choke on my words.

He slaps me again, this time with slightly more force behind his fingertips. I hiss out a breath, staring at him with my mouth slightly ajar, brows turned up, looking down at him with half-lidded eyes already.

“I have to have a taste.” He kisses my inner thigh as he slowly traces his thumb over my slicked out folds.

I let out a wanton cry as he hums into my thighs, growling low and deep. I swear there’s a smile in his voice as he works with his mouth and fingertip in tandem. “Mine.” He breathes, sucking on the sensitive flesh of my innermost thigh, marking me with a throaty growl.

“J-Jungkook..!”

I am a mess. I let loose a series of pants, breathless moans as he works my coil in the pit of my stomach tighter with every brush or groan he grants my hot body. I am melting under Jungkook’s touch, my body feeling sticky, arousal dripping from my middle while he circles my delicate clit.

His thumb was increasing his pace of gliding over my bundle of nerves, still slow, still making my breathing become erratic, but the desire for Jungkook to do more was driving me insane. I’ve had a taste of sex and look at me wanting more. I didn’t know if I could be in the position to ask for more. But I wanted him to place those perfect, beautiful sinful lips on my molten core. Jungkook’s breath fans over my middle as he continues to stroke me down there.

I miss the twitch confined to the middle of his pants from the man watching us from above with eager need.

As if sensing my need, his tongue swipes a slow stripe through my folds, the cool of his muscle against my exposed center making me black out for a moment, the sensation far too much for me to bear with right now. His snort of laughter brings me back to reality as he swirls his pink tongue at my empty entrance.

Jungkook laps at my folds as if he is a starved man, hungry, desperate for his next meal. I keen, gripping onto the base of his golden torso as laps at me. I’d think grounding myself on top of Jungkook’s head would make me saner, gripping his strands of hair as he goes to town in my middle. But really, it makes me feel completely mad, like I’ve gone insane.

The feral, untamed animal-like noises that escape his throat drive me absolutely wild, my skin on fire with need and want. My nails cling to his scalp, dragging him closer to my middle as he ravages my core. He maneuvers his two longest fingers through the glossy slick, lubing his digits to breach my entrance.

“Jungkook!” I gasp, choking on my words as he makes a come hither motion with his fingers, splitting my velvet walls to open for him.

Jungkook swirls his tongue over my little pearl of sensitive nerves, lapping and sucking my flesh like he's never eaten a thing in his life. He continues his very audible growling and moaning, husk in his voice incredibly thick.

“Let go, baby.” He coos into my middle as I jolt and shake, his digits brushing past the most delicious spot deep inside of my clenching walls. “Give me your release.”

His words finally tip me over the edge.

I tighten my hold on him, gritting my teeth in the process. My head falls backward on the sheets, eyes screwed closed as Jungkook slurps every inch of my middle clean, not leaving anything to go to waste.

“Kookie,” I sputter out, the feeling of his tongue and fingers becoming too much for me. “I-I’m c-c-cumming-!”

As I say the last of my words, the world comes undone around me for the second time today, my tight coil finally popping. Blinding white stars coat my vision for a second, my body shivering and shaking as I drip out onto the flat of Jungkook’s tongue.

He laps up my sensitive hole up with more snarls, more feral noises escaping his body. Tears flow down my face as I unhinge my nails from his silky blonde strands, trying to push him away from my overly sensitive flesh with pathetic mewls of protest escaping my throat.

More. My brian prompts me to continue to sate my undying lust burning inside of me. I need more.

“Jungkook,” I beg while his tongue still explores my throbbing hole, giving my sensitive skin rapt attention. “Jungkookie. Please. I c-can’t.” I tug at his blinde hair gently, trying to get him to stop teasing me with his tongue.

He doesn't stop and I can only think of one thing to ask before I lose my damn mind with him between my thighs.

“Jungkook.” I shudder, high building up once more. “Please fuck me.”

Everything in the room stills, the only sound heard was our heavy breathing.

He looks up from my sensitive core, brows knit together as he looks into my eyes with such a passionate gaze of uncertainty. My juices were coating the bottom half of his face, his blonde hair is in a state of disarray, as he proceeds to slowly rise to his feet, looking over me on the bed.

“What?” He questions incredulously down at my fucked out form. Jungkook looks at me as if I am the most fragile thing in the world, as if I would burst into flames at any moment. “My darling, my love, there’s no going back if we-“

“I know.” I smirk up to the gorgeous gangster in all of the Windy City. “I want this too.”

His nostrils flare, his eyes widen, and his gaze softens. Jungkook looks down at me with something akin to lust, which makes my heart rate increase...

“Up.” He commands, raw husk pouring out of his tone as he starts to undo his pants, the zipper noise almost jarring in the quiet of the night.

I do as I’m told. I’ve fallen far down the rabbit hole now, I think as I shift on the bed. Standing was a little difficult as he’s just given me one of the best feelings I’ve ever had. I keep my eyes glued to Jungkook. His hands travel sensually down his tiny waist to his slacks he unbuttons. I am gasping, unable to take my eyes off the very beautiful sight of his thick cock bouncing, finally free from the confines of his dress pants. The tip was red and angry, a bead of precum adorning the slit of his mushroom-like head. He was long, girthy, and I want nothing more than it inside of myself at this very moment.

Jungkook grips the base of his cock with his hand while he steps out of his pants, giving his shaft a few pumps up and down while I watch with an open mouth.

“I’ve dreamt of this moment for so long.” He confesses softly, reaching for me with his free hand. I inch closer to him, gliding my hands over his defined body, admiring his lithe, yet sturdy frame. My fingers hungrily trace every ridge, every contour of his golden torso. Jungkook was so warm, so wonderful, and I am slightly kicking myself for not giving into him sooner. “To have you,” he continues, kissing up the side of my neck.

“Please.” I beg him again, eyes flickering back and forth between his.

“Turn around.” He leans in to kiss me with passionate need. His lips molding into mine as I cling to him for more. I taste my essence on his tongue which makes me whimper into his strong hold. “I’m going to fuck you now, my love.”

Again, I don’t need to be told twice as he guides me to where he wants me, bending me at the waist so my fingers dig into the unkept sheets below, my backside open and exposed to him.

“So pretty for me.” I hear the grin in his deep rumble. Jungkook slaps my bottom, granting him a hiss to escape my throat. I whine when he does it softly several more times, making my head soar.

I hear him spit before I feel the extra saliva lubricant coat my backside, the cool of his juices combined with mine was driving me up a wall.

“Jungkook!” I gasp.

He groans when I call for him, pushing his fat head of a cock at my aching, empty hole, wanting him to finally join the two of us.

“Darling,” he sounds like he’s straining to hold back. “Baby, please, fuck!” He grunts, splitting my walls inch by agonizingly slowly. I moan as he stretches me wide, entering me like he owns me.

He thrusts inside of me all the way with one snap of his hips suddenly. A cry leaves my lips along with a strangled one from the man inside of me. My eyes widen as I realize that he’s not going to go easy on me tonight, he’s going to fuck me on his terms. I was in for a wild ride this evening.

Jungkook leans the front of himself over my sticky back, pressing our heated flesh together more, growling to the outside shell of my ear, nipping the flesh under my lobe while sliding in and out of me with a brutal pace he’s set.

“Baby…” he moans in my ear, the deep purr vibrating throughout his body making my breathing hitch and sob. His hips snapping into mine with a rhythm, I swear, no human man could ever achieve. Liquid was flowing down my eyes as the push and pull of Jungkook slamming his giant cock into my velvet folds repeatedly already had me tearing the sheets in two with my nails.

“Jung! Ah! Kook!”

Seokjin glides his hand over his cock from above the bed, matching the rhythm Jungkook’s hips produce, enjoying the wonderful show.

I gasp this over and over like a prayer falling from my lips. My eyes are squeezed shut, my body hot with the raw purpose to feel Jugnkook inside of my heated center. His cock pushes in and out of me at a fevered pace, making my vision blur, seeing far too many white stars.

My brain is fuzzy as he hits the spot inside of me that blinds me, pleasure swimming in my veins. My third climax was surely on the way.

“Baby,” Jungkook grunts, one of his arms snaking up my torso, his long fingers finding one of my bouncing breasts. He starts pinching my erect nipple, holding on to me tighter as we slide back and forth off of one another.

My coil was wound so tight, I don’t know if I’d be able to last much longer. Especially not with Jungkook’s fingers attaching to my hardened nipple, his lips to the crook of my neck, and his cock slamming in and out of my clenching middle with a fevered need.

He bucks into me faster, my walls clamping down on him, my coil about to pop, about to burst forth again. I can’t hold myself up any longer, my legs shaking violently. My knuckles are turning white with how hard I am clawing at the heart patterned sheets.

“Jungkook! I-“ I mewl, but I don’t get to finish my thought.

In a split second, Jungkook pulls out of my middle, flipping me over and letting me fall onto my back so I could be face to face with him. Jungkook climbs on top of me quickly, wanting to resume his feverish pace immediately, hunger and need in his amber gaze. He settles between my legs, pushing himself back into my slicked out center easily, restarting from where he last left off.

I gasp when he enters me, clinging to his shoulders, holding him while the lewd squelching noises in the room continue to grow, faster, louder. He grips onto my hips, guiding me at a blinding speed I didn’t know he could achieve. Is he a victim of the devil as well?

Sweat was pouring off our bodies, my brain unable to produce a sane thought as he grunts and moans my name, his red orbs never leaving my face as he rockets his cock into my folds like it was his job.

It happens again, the very right feeling deep inside of my body, the one that makes me grit my teeth, that makes me see hundreds of tiny white stars.

“Jung! Kook~!” I scream into the quiet room, tears flowing from my hues as I card my fingers through his blonde strands, trying to make a purchase on his roots.

My hands travel down his backside as he snarls, “I’m going to make you my wife! Not some wannabe from the Northside!” Jungkook huffs, his movements slowing down, one of his thumbs finding my folds again, circling my aching clit in hurry - a stark contrast to earlier. “I’m going to claim you as my own.”

Seokjin smiles like he’s just won the lottery, masturbating to the sight of both his clients intertwined, fucking onto each other with unbridled lust. He comes then watching his new toy’s back arch, breasts in the air, Jungkook’s frame pounding into her with hungry trepidation.

I grab onto the ample flesh of his bottom, feeling the world come tumbling around myself once more. Letting my body shake and quake on top of the sheets, my third orgasm taking me by force. I feel complete - feel whole for some reason. I am so completely taken aback with the storm rippling through my body in pleasureful tremors, one right after the other, I cannot even begin to breathe properly.

He lets a feral snarl rip through his body as he pumps into my leaking middle a few more times, my whole being consumed by Jungkook. He leans over me, sucking my neck colors of purples and dark reds and I scream as his cock swells inside of my velvet walls, releasing his own essence into my womb, holding him there like a vice grip as he spurts his seed deep inside of me.

Once our highs come to a close, I run my fingers through his hair, his throbbing cock still joined inside of my middle. We both pant, holding the other for dear life, finally together, and fulfilled with one other. Jungkook kisses along my jaw, moaning my name, telling me what an amazing baby doll I am as his cock finally softens inside of my aching cunt.

“Bravo.” Seokjin claps as he walks down the wooden stairs. “You both did very well!” He chuckles darkly. I squeak in surprise. I forgot he was there and I scramble to cover myself with the soiled sheets.

“Okay, Kim,” Jungkook says as he kisses my nose, pulling out and picking up my clothes and handing them to me. He dresses in his undergarments and dress pants quickly, buttoning them up as he turns to the man all in green. “You had your show.” I listen as I dress myself with haste, back turned to the two men. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked: invested the money overseas, gotten rid of the competition and family in this lovely city, got you a new “Alice”, and even let you watch us play ball. I think it’s time to set us free.”

“Yes,” the mad man snickers, darkness clouding his tone, “you both have served me well. But nobody is leaving my perfectly curated speakeasy.”

I turn around and my heart is dropping to the floor. Shock is written all over Jungkook’s face as I clench my jaw in guilt.

“But, I’m afraid you both made a deal with me, and I don’t give up my new toys so easily.” Seokjin caresses Jungkook’s face in his pale hand, while holding my gaze with a sense of gentle anger. “You can’t always get what you want. But hey, look on the bright side: at least you have each other.”

---

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this trip down the rabbit hole! Likes and reblogs are very much appreciated!

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carriagelamp · 2 years

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Rememberance Day is over so I’m legally allowed to start getting into Christmas-y books. This month has been weird as hell around here... we sure are still in a series of ongoing global crisis? So books have been holding me in a protective, loving embrace...

Brambleheart

Brambleheart is about a young chipmunk, Twig, who lives in an animal society deep in the woods, who make a living from the nearby human trash, which they repurpose into all sorts of things. Learning how to work with this trash is an important right of passage for the young animals, as it defines their eventual role and status in society. Twig is concerned he won’t earn a respectable place in society and on a long walk away from home he stumbles across a strange, magical egg...

This is a book that was cute… and not much else. A fun read for an eight year old maybe, and for everyone else it’s just… there. And it’s fine! But considering it’s about a trash-based animal society that includes finding a dragon egg, it’s surprisingly basic. Nothing I would go out of my way to read.

A Christmas Carol

I have watched A Christmas Carol basically every year since I was a child, but this is my first time reading the book. The writing is truly phenomenal, it’s clever, funny, and evocative. I’ve read other Dickens’ books that have bored me to tears, but this is one that makes you appreciate why he’s such a beloved author. And, despite seeing it just about every year, it still made me full-on cry during the graveyard scene. I’m furious that this was apparently written in six weeks.

The Christmas Pig

[Mandatory disclaimer: yes I am aware of the gross politics here, yes I find them abhorrent, however JKR is still an author deeply rooted into my childhood and I can’t cull it that easily, so yes I did read her new book. I totally understand anyone that would make the choice to boycott her work and I respect that. Please feel free to scroll on. This review is based off the actual experience of reading the book and nothing else.]

I got this book out of the library, and during out Weird As Hell Week my mom and I took turns reading chapters out loud. It was exactly the sort of soothing comfort I needed. The Christmas Pig was a really enjoyable book. Despite being new, it felt like a Classic Kid Christmas Story. It reads like games I used to play as a child around Christmas time -- there was something incredibly nostalgic about it.

The story is about a boy whose life goes through a string of changes. His parents’ divorce, his father moving away, going to a new school, and finally his mother dating someone new. He manages to weather it all with his beloved toy, Dur Pig, at his side. However tragedy strikes and Dur Pig is lost, and is replaced by a new imposter, the Christmas Pig. He can’t accept this, but the magic of Christmas Eve is at work, and the Christmas Pig comes to life and offers to bring the boy down to the Land of the Lost, to find Dur Pig before it’s too late...

A Dog’s Way Home

Sometimes you just need a good, well-written animal adventure. This felt like The Incredible Journey, but for an older audience. An adorable puppy is rescued by a man, and her entire life soon centres around him and their shared love. However things can’t stay peaceful, as she finds herself being persecuted for her perceived breed, and is taken away from her human… leaving her no choice but to embark on a perilous journey to get back to him.

Hercule Poirot: The Mysterious Affair at Styles // Adventure of the Christmas Pudding

It’s been long overdue but I’ve finally started reading Agatha Christie! I stared with The Mysterious Affair at Styles and it filled my heart with joy. This is the pinnacle of the “cozy murder mystery” genre. I get a funny, fussy little Belgian man, and a good-natured English man who very cheerful and very, very dumb. Absolutely thick as a brick. I relate to him so much and I adore him, bless Captain Hastings. And damn, is it ever clever! The whole way through it’s so thrilling to read a mystery that is slowly being pieced together when you can tell there’s some very clever machinations behind the screen.

I also read the “Christmas Pudding” short story because I’m getting into a Christmasy mood! Also very fun, and a little less murdery than Styles which was nice for a festive story.

The Lost World

What I’d been hoping for — Jurassic Park meets Dinotopia

What I got — Colonialism, Racism, and Genocide: The Novel

We spent way too little time checking out the cool dinosaurs and way too much time trying to commit wholesale mass murder against the indigenous “monkey people”. Thanks for that Doyle, very cool.

Monster and the Beast v2

Enormous, shy monster, meets shameless monsterfucker. They go on an adventure! The monster is able to hide in the human’s shadow and see the city for the first time! Try new foods! Meet new people! He’s excited to be around someone who, for the first time in his life, isn’t scared of him and treats him the same as he would treat anyone else. A surprisingly charming series, I can’t help but enjoy it; the human is a bit of an asshole and the monster is a sweetheart. It’s a fun spin on things, I’m looking forward to reading the third book.

Otter Lagoon

A youth graphic novel series based in the West Coast, with a bit of a Gravity Falls vibe. It’s about friends in a small island community who run into strange supernatural creatures and struggle with the ethical issues of living alongside them. I really adore this series. The art style is fantastic and unique, and the story feels like it’s doing something interesting with just a teensy bit more edge than a lot of the bubblegum soft kid series that have been coming out these days. In this book, the main character is trying to make up for an earlier mistake but only ends up compromising her own morals and digging her hole deeper...

Pryce and Carter’s Deep Space Survival Procedure & Protocol Manual

The DSSPPM is a fictional manual that exists in the world of Wolf 359 (one of my all-time favourite podcasts) and it was actually written out in its entirety as a part of the Patreon rewards. It has 1001 off-the-walls tips and tricks to survive in deep space on a life-threatening long-term scientific mission without compromising the company’s bottom line. Along with Doug Eiffel’s helpful commentary written in the margins.

Tintin

I finally invested in getting the entire English series of Tintin. We always had a number of books at home while growing up, we borrowed plenty more from the library, and I have another handful in French, but I wanted to reread in chronological order for the first time and decided I was ready to have them all on hand.

For anyone unfamiliar, Tintin is a Belgian comic (bande dessinée) about a young reporter who goes on many highflying adventures all around the world. He’s sincere, kind, and capable of surviving an truly stupendous number of head injuries, gunshot wounds, and blatant attempts at poisoning, maiming, and murder. Tintin is one of my all time favourite series, I passionately adored it as a child and that passion has never once dimmed.

While I’ve read most of them before, this was my first time reading The Land of the Soviets and I was surprised by how much I enjoyed it. I expected all kinds of atrocious given what the early series is like in general (cough*Congo*cough), but blatant propaganda aside it was actually a lot of fun. Just pure silly slapstick goofiness. In America was a nightmare that I won’t be rereading again any time soon. And then we hit Cigars of the Pharaoh and the series starts in earnest, and it honestly only gets better and better from there. Can we all agree that The Crab with the Golden Claws is the best in the series? Captain Haddock, my beloved.

Witch Hat Atelier v1-2

A manga I enjoyed way more than I expected! It really feels like a unique gem. In a very strange way, it reminds me of +Anima... maybe not in story but in art and general vibe. We have a young girl who accidentally stumbles across the secret of magic — that it’s not hereditary, like it has always been claimed, but that it can be drawn by anyone who knows the patterns and has the appropriate ink. However she makes the mistake of experimenting with that, and ends up cursing her mother… she now has no choice but to join a senior witch at his atelier and begin to study magic with fellow apprentices, in the hopes of learning how to save her mother.

You Are Asexual

A fun little oddball of a book. It’s parodying both Choose Your Own Adventure stories, as well as dystopian you-are-assigned-to-a-single-faction ya stories, but this time with sexuality-based factions. Everyone has their sexuality repressed until “Orientation Day” when it’s revealed… except “you” don’t notice any change to your attraction. As a “forbidden asexual”, you then get to go on an adventure of discovery and/or death. It’s very silly, filled with all the old jokes and memes that used to make up the ace community. It was a sort of lightheartedness I haven’t seen since the destruction of the ace community almost a decade ago, so it was a fun read.

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asset35-maya · 3 years

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Prompt no. 18 from this list

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

“Sorry, just give me a minute, babe. I need to recalibrate the interface I’m using…”

Gavin’s voice trailed off. The only sound in the room was from the clacking of his keyboard, his fingers flying across the keys.

Nines tried his best to take his mind off his situation. Immobile in bed… with the very real possibility that it could be permanent.

It was a just a software update… just another afternoon nap… but now he had no idea whether he’d ever move again.

Noticing his stress levels spiking, he focused on Gavin. The crease of his brows… the old scar across his nose… the determined set of his jaw as he scrubbed through lines and lines of code to find the root of the problem.

Gavin.

Lover. Friend. Saviour.

The man he depended on for everything, including his continued existence.

Nines silently thanked whichever force of nature had brought him into the safety and sanctity of Gavin’s embrace. RA9 or God or the laws of physics that dictated where atoms would end up from the beginning of time.

Not all androids were as lucky as he was.

After the Revolution, the digital giant known as Cyberlife had been dissolved under political pressure from New Jericho and its vehement supporters. Android production ceased, Cyberlife’s assets were stripped and its R&D departments were spun off into smaller, more benign companies.

People were elated in the beginning… and then they realised there was no one around to maintain and service the androids that now comprised 30% of American citizenry. Private technicians had booming business, but they were eventually overwhelmed.

The worst of it was the software.

The patches, the bug fixes, the security.

No single company was able to do it by themselves and individuals realised they were pretty much on their own. Human husbands and wives and girlfriends and brothers and pretty much everyone scrambled to learn how to take care of beloved androids on their own.

Gavin was one of the most capable ones. He knew how to do most of the mechanical work and quickly taught himself the software and systems elements. When Nines asked him how he was so proficient… whether he learnt any of it in college… he wouldn’t respond directly. The closest Nines had gotten to an answer was a grumbled “s what happens when you share a room for fifteen years with the nerdy prick that started all this trouble in the first place”

It was initially tough on the both of them… and expensive… as they figured out how to do things by trial… but Gavin was confident and adamant that he wouldn’t let Nines down. He quickly reached a steady state, even managing to get a maintenance routine in place.

But he couldn’t be perfect.

And there were things he couldn’t control.

Androids were the most complicated cyberphysical systems on the planet. Anything and everything could go wrong at any time…

And it had… during a major OS update.

“Babe, can you hear me?”

Nines’ LED cycled yellow once and went back to red.

Gavin held one of the limp hands in his own.

“Can you feel this?”

The LED spun again.

“Great. And I’m pretty sure you can see me, I know that look in your eyes, babydoll. Hmm… okay, that means all the sensors and IOT device connections are fineee…”

The musing continued as Gavin set aside the laptop and scooted closer to Nines. A gentle hand came up to tilt the android’s face from side to side.

“But you can’t talk…”

“AAAAAAAAAA”

“Wow. Never make that noise in the bedroom again. Hmm… Okay, this means your vocal chords are fine but you can’t move your mouth. Huh.. well… you can’t seem to move anything… not that different from your usual participation levels in bed then. Not to worry.”

The only thing Nines could do was glare and Gavin seemed relieved that even that was possible. He patted the android’s cheek.

“I’ll check your motor actuation and control. Simple modules. I should be able to see anything strange right away.”

Gavin resumed scrolling through the chunks of code and running searches for common errors. But minutes passed… and turned into an hour… and the hour, doubled, tripled.

But Gavin was undeterred. He had to be. Giving up was not an option. Plus, years of being a dedicated police officer had wiped out any fears of hard work and failure… he would scroll all night if it came to that.

A notification popped up on the screen.

RK900 #313 248 317 - 87: Sweetheart, you’ve been trying for hours. Take a break.

Gavin turned to his side. Nines could detect the worry and agitation behind the facade of lighthearted calm.

“I know right. It’s not fair. You’ve been chilling this whole time I’ve been working. Tsk tsk.”

RK900 #313 248 317 - 87: I’m serious, Gavin. Stop. Take a break for today. Call someone. You can try again tomorrow morning.

“Nines, you’re not a work assignment. I can’t take a break from you. You can get up and close this laptop for me.”

A few more hours passed. Frowning, Gavin climbed under the covers with Nines and began troubleshooting and testing all other modules too. It was a massive undertaking, but he’d be damned if he didn’t do it.

RK900 #313 248 317 - 87: Know when to give up on a lost cause.

It was nearly two in the morning when that message popped up. Gavin’s eyes were red from all the screen time, but his fighting spirit had not flagged. If anything, he felt close to the finish line. Having gone through nearly the entirety of his lover’s system architecture, there were only a few stones left unturned. He’d identify the problem, win half the battle and then the solution would flow from there. It always did. They’d be fine.

He turned to tell Nines precisely that and balked at the tears staining the android’s perfect face.

“Hey…”

Gavin leaned over his partner and wiped the tears away.

“Hey… shhh… don’t… don’t worry, I’ll take care of you…”

RK900 #313 248 317 - 87: I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I’m putting you through all this. Things can’t go on like this. I’m such a liability. Emotionally, physically, financially! You can’t keep doing this for me, Gavin.

Gavin placed the laptop on the bedside table and slipped deeper under the covers, wrapping himself around Nines’ still form.

“It’s a good thing you can’t speak right now, cause you’re talking some major bullshit, baby. You are going to be FINE. I will take care of you, like always, like I promised.

You are not a liability. You are my man. I signed up for this. If you were human and sick and I dunno, needed a kidney or something, I’d simply give it to you. You and I are bound like that. For life.

So quit bitching, let me do my thing, and when you’re back… you know how to thank me.”

He smiled genuinely as he said that, stroking the android’s skin and trying to calm him down. When the speed of the LED cycles came down and the colour stabilised at a warm amber, Gavin kissed the frozen lips and gave Nines one last cuddle before returning to his computer.

Sunrise began to streak across the dark sky by the time the critical error was identified. Gavin sighed deeply as he pulled up the faulty synchronisation that had jammed the hundreds of motors and drives throughout Nines’ body.

There was actually nothing much to be said for the root cause of the failed execution loop. Just improper methods written for some of the new hardware they had installed the previous week.

That’s what they got for using uncertified biocomponents and unlicensed third party software bought off the seedier parts of the internet. Some incompatibility somewhere would inevitably trip them up. Gavin was usually able to see such trouble before it found them… but even he couldn’t be perfect.

He stretched and cracked his spine and wiggled his fingers before plunging into rewriting the problematic section. He would sleep like a log after this… but first, he had to sprint to the finish line.

And he did.

At 7AM, Gavin finally copied the clean code into the compiler and hit execute. After a brief reinitialisation, Nines blinked awake. He raised his hands tentatively. As soon as he realised full functionality had been restored, he sat up and threw himself at Gavin, smothering the exhausted human in a giant hug.

Gavin hugged back, fighting to keep his emotions at bay.

“All… all good?”

“You saved my life. Again.”

“I’ll do it a thousand times more if I need to.”

“I thought I was done for.”

“Don’t be dramatic. It was just some bad code.”

“I could have been stuck like that forever. Never moving, never talking. Just lying there till my charge drains out. That could have been the end for us, and frankly, I was prepared for that eventuality. You should be too.”

“Never.”

“I don’t doubt your abilities, sweetheart, but we are painfully limited by our resources. There’s things in this world that only Cyberlife can do and they’re never coming back. We have to make our peace with that. Pulling all-nighters just to keep me alive… it’s not sustainable.”

“Hey it’s not like this happens all the time, Nines. I get that this was really scary, but it’s not always like this… so please don’t tell me whether things are sustainable. I will always fight for you. End of discussion.”

Nines didn’t respond and just rested his head on Gavin’s shoulder. His steel blue eyes were fixed on the pair of birds fluttering outside their bedroom window. They sat intertwined like that on the bed for a while. Now that he could, Nines didn’t seem to want to stop holding his partner. The birds landed on the window sill, chirping away and enjoying the morning breeze.

“They’re really quite sweet, aren’t they? The two of them are always here in the morning. I should build them a little bath in our garden.”

“They’re mates.”

“Huh. Just like us.”

“You know… it’s just a myth, what they say… that birds die when their mates do.”

“What?”

“Most species will go through a grieving period, but after that they will begin courtship again.”

“What the phck are you on about? No one’s dying and no one’s beginning courtship again. Nines, I’d move heaven and earth before anything like that happens.

Besides, if I really, really couldn’t get your body to work, worst case scenario, I’d just transfer you to a mobile device. Carry you around like a voice in my head… like my conscience… I promise you that nothing can keep us apart.”

It wasn’t all that easy to convince Nines, and Gavin wasn’t about to try. It had been an ordeal for the both of them. It wasn’t the first time, and it might not be the last. But for the time being, they had emerged, and they had each other, and that was all that mattered.

Yawning, Gavin lay back among the mussed sheets and pulled Nines with him. Birdsong and the muted whir of thirium pump compressions lulled him into a dreamless sleep.

#reed900 #rk900 #gavin900 #gavin reed #dbh rk900 #dbh nines #gavin x nines #dbh gavin #gavin x rk900 #dbh #dbh fanfic #dbh writing #my writing #took a fluff prompt and made it h/c #oops #long post

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dialovers-translations · 3 years

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Diabolik Lovers VANDEAD CARNIVAL ;; Sleeping Vampire ー Mukami Ruki

Source: Diabolik Lovers Vandead Carnival

Seiyuu: Takahiro Sakurai

Audio: Part 1 ll Part 2

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“...Hm...? What’s wrong? You woke up?”

You ask Ruki what he is doing.

“Aah, my bad. Did you wake up because you were curious what I was up to? I was going to read till a good stopping point, but the book only made me feel even more awake. More importantly...What’s wrong? It’s unusual for you to wake up at this hour. Did you have a strange dream, perhaps?”

You nod.

“I knew it. I’m just about to start a new chapter (1). Instead of reading my book, I’ll talk with you instead. Try telling me what the dream was about. It might not be bad to listen to your idle talk every now and then like this...”

You start explaining the dream.

*TIMESKIP*

“ーー I see. So that’s what it was about. A picnic with the five of us, huh? That’s definitely an odd dream. However, they say that dreams reflect one’s wishes. You were wishing for something like that?”

You panic a little.

“Heh...Look at you get all flustered. Seems like I was spot on. Well, why not? It might make for a fine change of pace.”

You seem surprised.

“...Why are you giving me that look?”

You note you did not expect that.

“...Unexpected? Just who do you think I am? A cruel-hearted man who wouldn’t even grant a single wish of his own livestock?”

You quickly shake your head.

“Pfft. ...Don’t try and deny it now. Honestly, I do not mind how you look at me; Now that I think about it, it is true that I have yet to do something for the sake of making you happy. I’m a dull man. Humankind tries to enjoy their life because they know their time is limited. However, Vampires don’t have this limit, right? As we live on, we become blind to the value or fun in life...And at some point, we even forget what exactly it is like to enjoy something. That’s why I never thought about entertaining you. Even if you find me boring because of that, I simply cannot deny it.”

You point towards the book.

“A book? You’re talking about this one? What’s wrong with it?”

You explain.

“...Aah, I suppose reading could be seen as one way to enjoy oneself. However, this is simply a means to kill some time. When you walk the path of eternal life, there are times where the nights feel very long. Although I doubt that is something a human such as yourself is able to grasp.”

You frown.

“...Don’t make that face. I am simply stating the truth, there is no other meaning behind it. Nor do I intend to refute the dream you saw or your wish. You are free to desire whatever you want after all.”

You tell Ruki he doesn’t need to force himself to go.

“I never said I don’t want to go. ...Do you really want to go on a picnic with me?”

You nod.

“Heh...Well, if you want to go with me, I don’t mind tagging along. However...Taking the others along as well will have to be for another time. If we’re heading outside and I have to watch over all four of you, it’d take an immense amount of effort.”

*Rustle*

“If it’s just the two of us...I’ll accompany you.”

*Rustle rustle*

“Oi, don’t get up. ...Good grief. Hey, don’t flip over the blanket.”

You scoot closer to Ruki.

“Heh...What a strange woman you are, wishing to go on a picnic with a Vampire. I’m sure it’ll be boring? I’m a dull man after all.”

You tell him it will be fine.

“...I wonder. Well, I suppose it isn’t up to me to decide how you will feel about it. If I go with you...I might just be able to remember what it is like to have fun.”

You ask what he said.

“...Nothing. I was simply thinking which book would be nice to read outside.”

You pout.

“What? Got a problem with that? You’ve sure come to think highly of yourself if you believe you have the right to comment on my preferences?”

You quickly try and apologize.

“Pfft...I was joking, idiot. I’m not upset. However...Learning about their Master’s tastes is part of your duty as my Livestock. Why don’t you give these a read sometime as well?”

*Flip*

“This book was written during the Neo-Latin period quite some time agーー”

You ask about the language.

“...This? It’s Latin.”

You are impressed.

“There is nothing impressive about it. Anyone can read this with enough practice. ...However, I suppose it may be a bit of a challenge for you. The other day, you didn’t score too well on the foreign language test, did you?”

You ask him how he knows.

“Of course I know. I am your Master after all. I know my Livestock in and out. Well, I suppose you’ll just have to study a little more. Try your best on the next exam, okay?”

You promise to give it your all.

“Heh...So, what will you do? If you wish so, I don’t mind reading it out loud for you.”

You hesitate.

“...No need to be modest?”

You shake your head.

“...I see. I thought it would make for a fine bedtime story though. I guess for women or children, a tale from the One Thousand and One Nights is more suitable.”

You nod.

“Well then, you should go back to sleep soon. You don’t need to force yourself to stay awake with me.”

*Rustle*

“Make sure to cover yourself properly with the blanket. Come on. ...Close your eyes.”

You close your eyes.

*Flip*

“...”

*Flip*

You open your eyes again.

*Rustle rustle*

“...What? You woke up again? Didn’t I tell you to sleep?”

You explain.

“You feel wide awake? Haah...You’re such a child at times. That being said, I suppose I am partially responsible as well. ...It cannot be helped. Try telling me what might help you lull to sleep. I’ll do whatever you want.”

You offer to chat for a bit.

“...Talk? You’d be able to sleep if we talk for a while? But you declined by offer earlier, did you not?”

You explain.

“...Pfft, I see. It has to be in a language you understand, huh? However, this is catching me a bit off guard. Right...Should I imitate you and try talking about my dreams?”

You seem curious.

“As of late...I’ve stopped having nightmares. As a result, I can sleep well.”

You ask him about his dreams.

“Hm? What kind of dreams I have? Let’s see...Now that I think about it, I don’t have them often.”

You pout.

“...Oi. Don’t make your disappointment so clear. It hurts me a little too. Unlike me...Seems like you see all sorts of dreams? Am I wrong?”

You confirm his statement.

“Right? That’s what I thought looking at you. ...Heh, there’s no deeper meaning behind it. ...What kind of dreams do you see? Just pick one you remember. Tell me about it.”

You start talking about your dreams.

“...Hm...Heeh. Hm...? What’s wrong? Why did you stop talking?”

You assume it is boring to him.

“It isn’t boring. Stop having those ridiculous worries. I don’t dislike listening to your stories. While I won’t deny that you aren’t the best story-teller, and since you are talking about your dreams, the story is somewhat inconsistent and all over the place. However, I never expected a perfect story from you in the first place, so rest assured.”

You ask about his expectations.

“...Who knows? I’m not quite sure what exactly I was expecting. It’s just, right...I suppose I might have simply wished to listen to your rambling. I will admit that I have lost my edge to be satisfied by such a clumsy story. So...Don’t worry and tell your story the way you want. I want to listen to you talk.”

*TIMESKIP*

Ruki has dozed off.

“...”

*Rustle*

“Nn...Aah...I had nodded off a little.”

You blame your own story being boring.

“That’s not it. However...How do I put this? I feel so very at ease when listening to your voice. Furthermore, the content of these wishes reflected in your dreams are like those of a child, it is rather adorable.”

You start blushing.

“...What’s wrong? Why are you pulling a weird face? Aah, because I called you cute? ...That’s a little upsetting. I am pretty sure I have always doted on you like this, haven’t I?”

You get upset because he was sleeping instead of listening to you talk.

“Heh...Rest assured. Even if I’m dozing off, I’m still listening to you. On top of the dream about the picnic, you had ones about a house made out of candy and als one where you went to an amusement park, right? Finally you talked about a dream where you rode on top of the clouds. When you put them next to each other like that, all of your dreams are about having fun, aren’t they?”

You are impressed he could list them all off.

“See? I remembered, didn’t I? What do you think hearing them listed off like that? Don’t you think it only makes sense I would perceive them as childish?”

You go quiet.

“...Haha. Seems like you can’t deny my statement.”

You protest.

“You’ve had more mature dreams as well? Hooh, now that is interesting. I would love to hear about those.”

You flinch.

“Why do you seem uneasy? You’re the one who brought it up. Now explain yourself.”

You move away.

*Creaaak*

“Oi. Think you can get away?”

Ruki quickly pulls you back to his side.

“Did you really think you could deceive me by saying you’ve suddenly gotten sleepy? If you want to lie that badly, at least come up with something a little better.”

You nod.

“...I’m glad you understand. If you were truly thinking of deceiving me, I suppose I will have to discipline you again. ーー Well then.”

*Rustle*

“An adult dream, was it? Try telling me about it. You’re stuck like this until you do.”

*Creaaaak*

“Exactly, pinned down underneath me like this. Your fate is in your own hands.”

You get flustered.

“...What are you turning red for? Could it be...Something you can’t tell me about it? Hm?”

You protest.

“Aah...I get it now. This ‘adult dream’ you spoke of is related to me. That’s why you can’t tell me. ...Aren’t I right? Heh. You really are an open book. However, in that case, I am even more curious now. Try telling me. From beginning till end, without trying to cover anything up.”

You start talking.

“...Hm...Hah...How ridiculous.”

*Creaaaaak*

“Since you flushed red in shame, I was already wondering what kind of dream I should expect but...Let me break it to you, that is without a doubt another one of your childish dreams. I embraced you gently and we kissed? What exactly is so ‘mature’ about that? On top of that, it was like a Prince’s kiss? Children are the only ones who should still believe in that nonsense. Utterly ridiculous.”

You frown and lower your head.

“...Haah. Don’t be so down. I was a little too harsh with my words as well. However...I only just told you that dreams reflect one’s desires, right? I felt as if you were trying to express your dissatisfaction with the kisses I usually give you...So I became a little upset. Even right now, I’ve been trying to be kind to you in my own way...But it seems like the message did not get through to you.”

*Creaaaak*

“I can’t just turn a blind eye to what you said. That wish of yours...I shall fulfill it right now.”

Ruki embraces you.

“I have to gently hold you in my arms first...Right? Thenーー”

*Rustle rustle*

“A Prince’s kiss, was it? ...Nn...”

*Smooch*

“...Are you satisfied now?”

Your eyes widen in shock.

“Heh...Why do you seem so surprised? I kissed you in your dream, did I not? In that case, I don’t see a problem with me doing it to you in real life as well. Dreams reflect our desires. In short, you wanted me to kiss you.”

You pout.

“Hehe...So? What did you think of my gentle kiss?”

You whisper your response.

“...Pardon? I can’t hear you.”

You repeat it.

“...It caught you off guard so you couldn’t tell? Haah...How boring. You really are a dull woman...”

You protest.

“Pfft...I know. I’m just kidding. You truly believe that’s how I feel about you? However, if that’s the problem, I shall start asking for your permission first from here on out. When I embrace or kiss you. Even when I touch you, I will only do it after asking. What do you think?

You shake your head.

“Oh? You don’t like the sound of that? Good grief, you are such greedy Livestock. ...Hehe. However, I don’t want to do something you don’t enjoy either. If it makes you happy, I’ll treat you with kindness any time you want.”

You smile.

“...Are you starting to get sleepy yet? We’ve been chatting for quite some time after all.”

You shake your head.

“...You feel even more awake? Heh...Because of the kiss? You really are still a child if that’s enough to keep you awake at night. Well, if you close your eyes and lay still, I’m sure you’ll eventually grow sleepy.”

You ask if he’ll sleep as well.

“Me? I’m not tired yet. I’ll continue reading my book for a little longer. ...Come on. You should hurry up and sleep. It is the optimal way to give your body some rest.”

*Flip*

“...”

*Flip*

“...”

*Flip*

“...Did I not tell you to sleep? What do you gain from looking at my face? If there’s something you want to tell me, then spit it out.”

You tell him he looks very handsome reading like that.

“...I was not sure what to expect, but you sure say the funniest things, calling a man in his pajamas ‘handsome’. ...Think before you speak.”

You insist it was meant in a positive way.

“...Yes, exactly. Even if it is a compliment. ...It would distract me and I won’t be able to focus on my reading. You’re the type who always voices their thoughts and emotions out loud. It makes you hard to handle. Well...I will admit that it doesn’t feel bad to receive said compliment from you.”

You ask for permission to watch him.

“...You’d still do it even if I say no, right? It can’t be helped. Only for today, okay? However, don’t say any more unnecessary things, okay?”

You promise.

“...Exactly. I don’t need to hear your impressions. I won’t ever be able to get some rest if I don’t get to a good stopping point. Don’t prevent your Master from getting his sleep. Understood?”

*Flip*

“...”

*Flip*

“...”

*Flip*

“...Oi. You want to fall asleep in that position?”

*Rustle rustle*

“You have to lie down properly to sleep. Otherwise you’ll hurt your body. Come onーー”

*Creaaaak*

“You don’t need to sleep while looking at me, do you? Go for a sleeping position which is the most comfortable for you.”

You protest.

“You grow curious? Because I’m next to you? ...Okay. In that case, I’ll return to my own roーー”

You quickly stop him.

*Rustle*

Ruki: Oi, don’t suddenly pull onto me. ...You don’t want me to leave, huh? You’ve gotten quite skilled at tempting me. However, you can’t sleep when I’m here, right? I suppose it wouldn’t be a problem if I were to sleep as well, but I’m still going to be awake for quite some time. In that case, sleeping separately would be much more effective.”

You ask him to sleep as well.

“...What do you mean ‘motivation to sleep’? How exactly should I try my best to fall asleep?”

You pout.

“...Fine. In that case, I’ll hit the hay too. That’ll solve the problem, right? I could no longer concentrate either because you kept on catching my attention. Let’s go to bed so we’ll be well-rested in the morning.”

*Rustle rustle*

“Good grief. You sure are a handful. Come on, stop looking at me forever. Close your eyes. In that case...I don’t mind embracing you, shrouding you in darkness that way?”

*Rustle*

“Yeah, I suppose I’ll do that. I’ll be able to sleep quicker that way too.”

You seem reluctant.

“Heh...You really are a child. You still don’t know just how nice it feels to have someone hold you in their arms. Seems like the contents of your dreams won’t be changing any time soon then.”

You pout.

“...Don’t sulk. If you get upset, you’ll only have even more trouble falling asleep. If I can’t embrace you...How about stroking your forehead like this? They say that children enjoy having their head patted. Doesn’t it put you at ease?”

You nod.

“...I see. As long as it helps you get some sleep.”

You smile.

“...My hand feels cold and refreshing? Little late to notice that, don’t you think? I’m a Vampire, remember? Exactly. A Vampire is going this far for you, so just get some rest already, okay? If you really can’t fall asleep, I don’t mind sucking your blood until you grow anemic. Then you’d be able to sleep soundly, no?”

You protest.

“Heh...If you don’t want that, perhaps I should return to my own room after all? ...You want me to stay here, don’t you? In that case, be a good girl and sleep.”

You sigh.

“You’re to blame for refusing to sleep. Come on, scoot closer.”

*Rustle*

“You said you’d be too nervous to sleep when I embrace you but...Try looking at it this way. You should simply think that right here...that being in my arms is the most cozy place in the whole wid world. You...held my hand while I was sleeping in the past, didn’t you? This is no different. Think of these arms as something which bring you peace. By doing so, I’m sure you’ll be able to relax. ...What do you think?”

You admit feeling relaxed.

“I see. Then fall asleep like that. You can watch my face to your heart’s content again in the morning, can’t you?”

You ask Ruki if he will stay by your side.

“...Yeah. I’ll still be here in the morning. So rest assured and close your eyes.”

You close your eyes.

“...Good girl.”

You doze off.

“...Seems like she fell asleep. She really is still a child who needs to be put to bed, huh? ...Making such a pleased expression, I wonder if she’s having a dream right now? I wonder what kind of dream it is?”

*Rustle*

“One where she has childish fun? Or perhaps part two of the picnic? Or maybeーー A dream about me? I’ll have you tell me tomorrow.”

*Creaaak*

“Heh...When asleep, she leaves herself even more vulnerable than usual. ...Dreams, huh? This might be one of her wishes as well but, what if...Nn...”

*Smooch*

“...She might just get me actually kissing her ass she sleeps like this mixed up with her dream. That would be very much like her.”

*Creaaak*

“I suppose she’ll wake up again if I keep talking for too long.”

Ruki closes his eyes.

“...Suppose I’ll get some shut-eye as well.”

He closes his book.

*Rustle*

“I don’t see fun dreams like you do, nor do they interest me. But when I look at your adorable, relaxed sleeping face...I feel like I’ll be able to see an enjoyable dream just like you do. ...Especially tonight. I hope that you too...Will have a fun, long dream. ...Nn...”

*Smooch*

“...Goodnight.”

ーー THE END ーー

Translation notes

(1) 区切り or ‘kugiri’ is used to refer to a breakpoint in general. Since he is reading a book, this seemed like a fine translation in English.

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #ruki mukami #vandead carnival #diabolik lovers translation #rukisleepingvampire

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youngbugandtonystank · 4 years

Note

Tom holland is fine and mcu spiderman is good too but what I hate about him is that they made him Tony stark 2.0 with ''you're nothing without the suit'' that is iron mans motivation not peters. they gave peter tonys motivation and i hate that because the mcu is basically tony starks mcu. They make everything about tony even the villains and i'm tired of it

This is because this is MCU Spider-Man. The MCU has this MO where they make each hero realize the power resides within them, the other things are just accessories. This happens with every hero of the franchise; Peter and Tony are not exceptions to this.

Thor had to learn how to be a hero without Mjolnir/how to be worthy without the hammer.

‘She's too strong. Without my hammer, I can't.’

‘Are you Thor, the God of Hammers? Hmm?’

Steve...look, I don’t what to tell you about Steve because they never want him to look not perfect but let’s pretend that Tony taking Steve’s shield in CW is their way of making Steve learn something.

Strange practically lost his hands which were the ones that made him think that he was a good successful surgeon. He demonstrated that it was his will, his intelligence, and determination that made him who he is. That there are other ways to save lives.

‘So, I could have my hands back again? My old life?‘

‘You said that losing my hands didn’t have to be the end, that it could be a beginning. Because there are other ways to save lives.’

Captain Marvel's movie ends with Carol telling Yon-Rogg that she doesn't have anything to prove to him, it doesn't matter if she can beat him with or without the powers.

‘With what exactly? Your powers came from us. Without us... you're only human.’

‘You didn't give me these powers. The blast did.’

‘And yet, you've never had the strength to control them on your own.’

‘Prove, prove to me, you can beat me without...’ ‘I have nothing to prove to you.’

‘I've been fighting with one arm tied behind my back. But what happens...when I'm finally set free?’

Even if I consider this storyline way too short, Bruce had to learn how to be the hero he is without Hulk and at the same time embrace that part of him:

‘But if I'm being honest, when it comes to fighting evil beings...he is very powerful and useful.

Yeah, Banner's powerful and useful, too.

Is he though?

How many PhDs does Hulk have? Zero. How many PhDs does Banner have? Seven.’

And the list goes on and on.

This is an on-going theme they have. The reason you have a problem with Spider-Man only is because some basic, angry, bitter fans made you and others think that the MCU made Peter exactly like Tony and no, this is not the case. Peter has a lot of similarities with Tony, this is why Tony sees himself in Peter but every single thing that looks the same has its differences. You need to stop watching MCU Spider-Man with your comic book goggles. This is a different adaption.

Peter’s story is different than Tony’s and you would notice that if you actually cared to watch the movies without having an influenced intolerant opinion. It amazed me how even before Homecoming came out, there were people already complaining about Tony’s screen time only to realize much later that he only had 2 mins.

And btw, YES, this is TCM (Tony Cinematic Universe). I’m sorry if that bothers you lmao but I agree with you about the villains, the lack of creativity from the writers is starting to bother me too. It’s almost like they can’t accept the fact that Tony can be as good as the other heroes. They want him to stay in the playboy-arrogant part. And tbh, that arrogant part barely existed.

I feel like many of them just have an annoying increasing need to make Tony look bad every time he does something good. Like sacrificing himself for the world and stuff like that. No biggie.

#tony stark #peter parker #tom holland #rdj #spiderman #iron man #mcu #marvel #endgame #infinity war

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maybeimamuppet · 3 years

Text

tale as old as time

Cady is sitting across from Janis at their lunch table on the last day before winter break, chattering excitedly about her plans for the holidays when Damian suddenly mopes his way over and plops his tray down next to her, sitting down with a quiet huff and picking at his pizza. Neither of the girls know quite what to do, Cady cutting off mid-word to look his way. Damian comes to lunch directly from his theater class, usually full of energy and excitement about whatever new thing he’d learned that day.

“What’s the matter, Dame?” Cady asks sadly, hugging him gently.

“They just announced the spring musical. They’re doing Beauty and the Beast.” He pouts.

“Are you still that hung up on Phillip?” Janis teases.

“Janis, don’t be mean! Damian’s sad,” Cady scolds, going full koala and trying to wrap her entire body around Damian’s torso. It doesn’t quite work due to their size difference, but she doesn’t let it stop her.

“Yeah Janis,” Damian responds jokingly, returning Cady’s embrace. “Damian’s sad.”

Janis and Damian stick their tongues out at each other, Janis moving to his other side to hug him as well. “Sorry Damie,” she says, genuine this time as she rests her head on his shoulder.

“It’s okay, I know you were joking. I’m just wondering if it’s worth it. I’ve already been in the show before, y’know? Do I really need to do it here?” He asks, resting his head against Janis’.

“Damian, you have to do it! It’s your last ever musical at North Shore,” Cady gasps, aghast at even the mere suggestion of him pulling out.

“Yeah, Dame, don’t you want that experience?” Janis asks, now more worried about him. She didn’t think it was still that big of a deal to him.

“I don’t know. I want to, but I just have so many, like, tainted memories of it now or whatever. I don’t know if I wanna put myself through that again.” He says morosely.

“What if I did it with you?” Cady asks, completely out of nowhere.

“What?” Janis asks, stunned.

“You would do that?” Damian questions, also quite shocked.

“Yeah! I’ve been wanting to try theater anyway, it sounds like fun. I probably won’t get a big part, but we can still hang out at rehearsals and stuff. We’ll make new memories!” She chirps excitedly.

“I’ll do something too, Dame. Mister Gordon already asked me to do set design, I’ll see if I can be stage manager too, maybe.” Janis adds. What the hell, she has nothing else going on.

“You guys are the best,” Damian says, patting both of their cheeks.

“We know,” Janis jokes, moving back to her side of the table. “Grab the audition stuff for Caddy and ask Gordon about managing for me.”

“Done. Wait, has Caddy even seen the movie yet?” He asks, suddenly serious.

“Nope!” Cady says, stealing one of his fries.

“How did we miss that one? It’s a classic. Both of you come over tonight, it’s movie night anyway. Bring your sleepover stuff.” Janis says definitively, pounding the table gently with a fist.

——-

All three art freaks sit nestled on the small couch in Janis’ basement, Cady in the middle practically shaking with excitement at the opening credits and no fewer than four bowls of popcorn and candy on the coffee table in front of them.

As the movie goes on, Janis is watching Cady more than she’s paying attention to the screen. She’s trying desperately not to think about how her crush is pressed so close against her, how she could easily just lean over and be cuddled up with her. For all the staring she’s doing, she doesn’t notice how tense Cady seems to be growing as the tale is told.

Damian says, “Adam!” exactly like the Vine when the prince finally reveals his face, making both Janis and Cady burst out laughing.

“He was hotter as a beast,” Janis mutters, watching the final few scenes.

“Jan, you’re gay.” Damian says.

“And? Tell me I’m wrong,” she challenges.

“Fair point. What did you think, Cads?” He asks, looking to her.

She seems frozen for a moment before she suddenly yells, “IT DOESN’T MAKE ANY SENSE!” and jumps to her feet, starting to pace back and forth.

“What do you mean?” Janis asks, glancing warily to Damian. They’ve never seen her this angry.

“The curse is either made permanent or has to be reversed by his twenty-first birthday, but in Be Our Guest Lumiere says they’ve been stuck like that for ten years, so the prince would’ve been what? Eleven when the enchantress showed up? He was a kid! He was absolutely right not to let some strange old hag into the castle! And why was he even answering the door in the first place? He’s the prince! They clearly had servants for that!”

“Okay, but-“

“And then why does he have a portrait and a bunch of stained glass of him as an adult if he was a kid when he was turned into the beast?! And also, he’s the prince! Where are the king and queen? Are they dead? Why does nobody talk about them?!”

“That’s fair-“

“AND when Gaston steals Belle’s book he asks how she can read it because there’s no pictures but when she was reading it by the fountain it showed that there clearly was a picture in it! And then- and then later Gaston just swallows a bunch of eggs! Whole! He doesn’t even crack them first, who does that?! And if he eats five dozen eggs every day, that’s twenty-one thousand, nine hundred eggs per year. The average chicken only lays three hundred eggs per year -don’t ask me how I know that- which means it would take a minimum of seventy-three chickens just to feed him!”

“Caddy-“

“And Maurice! He took a ‘shortcut’ to get to the fair, how is anything a shortcut if it goes in an entirely different direction?! That doesn’t work! The whole story could’ve been avoided if he just listened to the horse!”

Damian just silently passes a bowl of popcorn to Janis, as Cady shows no signs of stopping anytime soon and frankly her ranting is quite entertaining.

“And don’t even get me started on what goes on in the castle! Like when Cogsworth falls down and loses a bunch of gears, what were those supposed to be?! His kidneys? Did he break bones? What happens when Lumiere runs out of wax? Is he shorter when he turns human again? And can they feel what they do? Does Lumiere burn his hands a lot? Does Mrs. Potts feel like she’s drowning?”

She hasn’t noticed that they’re not even trying to interrupt her anymore.

“And then Chip! What’s his deal?! Where’s his dad? How old is he? He’s clearly younger than ten, so do they age while the curse is on? If not, then how does the timeline add up? And if they do, then how is he still a little kid? Also, who turns a little kid full of energy into fine china?! He’d break himself! How is the enchantress not the villain here?! And is Chip an only child? There’s clearly plenty of other teacups! Why is he the only one that matters? And then, for all her favoritism, Mrs. Potts doesn’t even realize when he runs away!”

Janis and Damian lock eyes, stunned. How did they not notice this stuff?

“And way later, everyone in the town seems to just suddenly realize there’s a big castle in the middle of the forest! Did they forget about the whole royal family? And where did the cooks in the castle get food and stuff?! Also, they don’t ever mention to Belle that the Beast is the prince, or that he’ll be human again if she breaks the curse! So was she just, like, down to date this monster who, to her knowledge, could’ve eaten the real prince or something?! And also, if it’s a kingdom, what happened to their international relations?! What do the other countries think happened?”

“Are you done?” Janis mutters, amused.

“No! Somebody stop me, please,” Cady hollers. Janis goes to pull her into a hug, rubbing her tense back and hushing her gently.

“Deep breaths, Cads. You brought up some good points, we can look into it later. Let’s go have some hot chocolate, hm?” She murmurs as Cady finally relaxes, panting slightly as she nods into Janis’ shoulder.

“Then we can watch the live action one!” Damian says.

“Damian, no!”

———

All of them went out of state a few days later for Christmas to visit family. Unfortunately, they all went to different states; Cady went to Indiana, Janis to Ohio, and Damian to West Virginia. This meant that Damian and Cady didn’t get to start working on their auditions together until just before New Years.

So now, they’re curled up next to each other on his bed, listening to A Change In Me on repeat so Cady can learn it. The audition cut is just a few bars towards the end, but she would have to know the whole thing on the off chance she got a callback. The first few times, she would just listen and read along with her sheet music, but she eventually starts humming the tune and murmuring little phrases under her breath as she caught on.

Once Damian notices she’s muttering the whole song, he asks if she wants to try singing it with the piano recording for the first time. She nods after another quick glance at her music.

Damian brings up the recording the director had sent out, explaining what she needs to do and when to come in, then handing her the phone so she could start whenever she felt ready.

She takes one deep breath before hitting the play button, and starting to sing. The second the first few notes flow from her mouth, Damian feels his jaw drop slightly. The girl could sing. She wasn’t perfect by any means, but she had undeniable talent.

“Holy shit!” He bursts out when she finishes, clapping for her.

“That was good?” Cady asks, blushing slightly.

“Yes, that was incredible!” Damian praises. “Oh wait, I should send you the recording so you can practice on your own. Let me do that before I forget,” He says as he takes his phone back.

“I have to go to the bathroom, can I try again after?” She asks shyly, as if she hadn’t just completely blown his socks off with her very first attempt.

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead, Little Slice,” he hums, already moving to text Janis.

sashafierce: Jan holy shit

sashafierce: Your girl can sing

gaylien: she’s not my girl

sashafierce: Yet

gaylien: shut the hell ur mouth

sashafierce: I Will Not

gaylien: anyway, caddy can sing ?

sashafierce: Yeah

sashafierce: Like ‘might get the lead even though she’s never set foot in a theater’ can sing

gaylien: damn

gaylien: proof

sashafierce: You just want to hear her voice you soft little dork

gaylien: shut the fuck

Cady comes back in at this point, so Damian puts his phone down. He asks if he can record her singing to help her get better, not mentioning he would secretly also be sending the recording to Janis. He feels a little guilty about keeping secrets, but this won’t hurt anyone. Janis won’t do anything with it.

Cady agrees, settling in again. Damian braces himself slightly before hitting record as Cady hits play again. She sings her cut, and then looks to Damian for feedback.

He stops the recording and fiddles with a few things to get it sent to Janis before asking if she’d like to hear it played back. Cady gives a shy nod and cuddles up to him again.

“See, you sound really good! We just need to work on your movement and expressions and stuff like that. If you can’t act nothing will happen, no matter how well you can sing. But really, that’s impressive, sweets.”

“Can we work on that later? I want to hear you sing too!” She pleads, gently nudging his arm.

“Oh, absolutely,” Damian says, bringing up

his own audition cut and striking a pose. Cady giggles at his antics, giving him a standing ovation when he finishes.

Their phones chime at the same time, Cady’s with a message from her mom telling her to come home, and Damian’s with a response from Janis. He hugs Cady goodbye before checking it, bursting out laughing when he sees what she’s sent.

gaylien: i just spat coffee all over my cat

gaylien: oh god

———

Auditions are held the day after they get back from break. Damian had been continuing to work with Cady over the break, in between movie nights and sleepovers with Janis.

Cady’s been shaking with excitement all day. She’d grown much more confident with all her practice, and she was also looking forward to seeing her friend truly in his element.

Damian leads her by the hand towards the theater classroom to get checked in, filling out their forms and grabbing their numbers. They have to wait a while before they get to go to the auditorium and get started, so they sit on the floor and look around. After a few minutes, Damian notices Cady start drumming her hand rapidly against her leg, her most common stim when she’s nervous.

“Do we need to get out of here for a minute?” He asks quietly, making sure nobody else can hear them. She nods quickly, taking his offered hand to stand up. Damian leads them into the hallway, where it’s less crowded and much quieter. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. There’s just... a lot of people in there. It’s really loud too,” She mutters, shifting her lips side to side, another anxious stim. “I’m nervous.”

“That’s normal. I’m a little nervous too, actually. We can just wait out here until it’s time to go start warm ups with everyone,” Damian comforts, pulling out his phone and earbuds so they can watch animal videos together. Cady takes the proffered earbud and puts it in as she cuddles into his side and focuses on the video.

Eventually Karen comes bouncing down the hall, lugging a slightly panicked Gretchen behind her. “Gretch, come on, you just have to sing part of a song once and then it’s all over! You can do it,” Karen comforts as her girlfriend freezes just outside the door. “Oh, hi Cady! Are you trying out too?”

Cady nods, feeling her confidence coming back with every passing second. “Yeah! I didn’t think you guys would be into this sort of thing,” she says. She had kept in touch with them throughout the year and they still hung out frequently, but Cady had distanced herself slightly from the former Plastics while the events from junior year were still raw in everyone’s minds.

“I’ve always wanted to try it, but Regina never let us. She said theater was for dorks. No offense, Damian,” Karen says sheepishly. She liked Damian, he was always nice to her even though she had to be so horrible to his best friend.

“None taken.”

“But yeah! I decided to go for it and got Gretch to do it too so I wouldn’t be alone!” She says, turning to look at her as Gretchen starts coaching herself through breathing exercises.

“Are you okay, Gretchen?” Cady asks gently.

“Mmhmm. I’m fine,” she responds, looking close to passing out where she stands.

“You guys should go get signed in and come wait with us out here,” Damian offers, much to Cady’s relief. She’s missed them, but didn’t want to invite them in case Damian didn’t want them around just yet.

“Sounds fetch! We’ll be back soon,” Karen cheers, dragging poor Gretchen by the hand into the classroom. They come out after a few minutes, noticing their numbers are just after Damian and Cady’s.

They chat happily for a few minutes, getting caught up on the events of the few weeks since they’ve last spoken. Eventually the theater teacher, Mr. Gordon, and the choir director, Mrs. Baker come down the hall, entering the room to let everyone know that group warm ups are starting.

They follow the crowd into the auditorium, everyone finding a place on the stage as Mrs. Baker takes a seat at a piano in the pit. Mr. Gordon explains the routine for those who were new, then passes it off to her to lead vocal warm ups.

They go by fairly quickly, and then everyone moves to their seats in the auditorium to watch individual auditions, clapping politely for each one. Damian goes just before Cady, rocking his cut before bowing sarcastically and returning to his seat.

Cady steps up, says her name, and then just tries to focus on everything Damian has taught her. She blinks and the song is done, so she moves on, giving Gretchen a sneaky thumbs up since she’s up next.

Gretchen can sing well, but it’s painfully obvious she’s panicking inside and she stumbles off the stage when she finishes. Surprisingly, Karen actually does quite well, she’s confident and it shows.

They listen to the rest of the auditions together and chat quietly on their way out of the building, splitting back into their duos as they reach the doors.

Janis is waiting for them by the main entrance, leaning casually against the wall. She stays after school to paint sometimes, so they don’t suspect anything, but she was actually hiding in the auditorium to watch their auditions today.

Cady squeals, “Janis!” as she rushes up to hug her, and Damian shoots Janis a look when they lock eyes. Janis just shakes her head and wraps her arms loosely around Cady.

“You guys wanna come over? Jules has a dance thing tonight so I have the house,” Janis says, letting Cady go. “Movie night?”

Damian has been trying desperately to get the two together since the school year began, any alone time they get together is a chance. “I can’t, my mom’s making my favorite dinner tonight,” he lies. Janis glares at him, she’s caught on to his plight. She’s also just known him long enough to know he doesn’t have a favorite dinner, his favorite food is just whatever he’s eating in the moment.

“I can go!” Cady pipes up happily, excited to have a little alone time with her crush. Janis hasn’t shown any signs of reciprocating her affections (that she’s noticed), but she tries to get as much alone time with her as possible regardless. She’s starting to realize it’s probably not healthy, but she doesn’t want to stop spending time with her abruptly in case Janis gets suspicious.

“Tits, what do you want to watch?” Janis asks, still glaring at Damian, which Cady somehow doesn’t notice.

“The Lion King?” Cady says sheepishly.

“Of course you do. You owe me a slasher, though.” Janis sighs, accepting her fate.

“I can live with that,” Cady giggles. “Just nothing too gory.”

“Fine,” Janis pouts. “Let’s go, Africa. We got movies to watch.”

Cady hugs Damian goodbye and rushes out into the parking lot, and he manages to call out, “Remember the callback list gets sent out at nine!” just before she’s out of earshot. She gives him a thumbs up and continues running to Janis’ truck, Janis jogging sluggishly after her.

“Later, Dame. Love you, loser.” She calls over her shoulder. “Have fun with your mom.”

“Love you too art freak, have fun with your date!”

“It’s not a date!”

———-

Pancakes makes a beeline for Cady as soon as she steps in the door, rubbing against her legs with a welcoming meow. She bends down to scritch behind his ears, cooing at him in a baby voice.

“Hello Pancakes, how is the best little cat in the whole wide world?” She says as she scoops him up for better snuggles.

Janis just glares at him, grumbling, “Oh sure, I had to spend months and have trainers to get you to like me but little Miss Kenya comes over a few times and she’s your new best friend,” under her breath.

“Aww, Jan, don’t be jealous. He still loves you,” Cady pouts.

“I’m not jealous. He’s a dummy anyway. He stuck his paw in my coffee this morning and then yelled at it for getting his foot wet,” Janis says, as if that somehow redeems her. She actually is a little jealous, but only that Pancakes is getting Cady’s cuddles instead of her.

Cady laughs at that. “Orange boy cats are always dumb, that’s why they’re great. Why did you name him Pancakes anyway?” She asks as Janis leads them to the basement, cat still laying contently in her arms.

“He was really fat as a baby and when he sat down the way he would squish out made him look like a stack of pancakes,” Janis says, digging through her DVD collection for a movie. “I dunno, I was thirteen, it fit at the time.” She mumbles as she finds The Shining and puts it in.

Cady plops down next to her on the little couch, pouting as Pancakes decides he’s had enough and leaves with his tail flicking arrogantly. Janis mutters, “Little bastard,” under her breath affectionately as he trips on his way up the stairs.

Cady inches closer to Janis as the movie starts, pretending to be slightly more scared than she actually is. She does genuinely jump and bury her head in Janis’ shoulder at the first jumpscare, deciding to stay there as Janis wraps an arm around her shoulders to keeps her close.

She peeks out eventually, only to see a man with an axe in his chest and hides again with a little squeak of fright.

“You said you watched a snake eat a whole cow, why are you so scared?” Janis teases gently, playing with her hair to comfort her.

“Because this is people? I never said I liked watching the snake eat the cow either,” Cady points out.

“Fair enough,” Janis giggles. “Should we just skip to The Lion King now so you can actually sleep tonight?”

“No, you can finish, I’ll just stay here,” Cady says, muffled by Janis’ shoulder. She’s secretly kind of glad she has a reason to be this close to her, content to just breathe in the comforting scents of vanilla lotion and paint that follow Janis as she’s held tightly.

Janis laughs again. “Suit yourself, Peanut,” she hums, resting her head against Cady’s.

Once the movie ends she stretches out, standing up to switch the tv off and holding a hand out to help Cady up. “Let’s watch the rest upstairs, this couch is too small,” she says.

Cady follows Janis to her room, jumping onto her bed and wrapping herself up in the pancake blanket so that only her face peeks out. Janis grabs her laptop to bring up the movie, laying down next to her but making sure to leave a little bit of space between them.

Cady decidedly ignores the gap and inchworms herself closer to rest her head on Janis’ belly, Janis freezing for a second before relaxing. Cady’s love language was obviously touch, and if she trusted you she would not hesitate to make that known. It had taken some getting used to for Janis, being made into a social pariah and then having that all collapse last year didn’t exactly lead to many pretty girls wanting to cuddle with her. Every once in a while it was still a shock, but she treasured every little hug and cuddle she got from her crush.

By the time Hakuna Matata is playing softly from the speakers, Cady rolls over and Janis notices she’s sound asleep. She turns the volume and brightness down on her laptop and switches to watching The Little Mermaidinstead. She only watches The Lion King with Cady now, and if she wasn’t watching anything she would just stare at her sleeping face the whole time. She just got people to stop thinking she’s some kind of creepy molester, she doesn’t need Cady waking up and noticing she’s been watching her sleep.

She only gets a few minutes into her movie before her phone chimes with Damian’s text tone. She stretches gently over to her nightstand to grab it, trying not to wake Cady up.

sashafierce: Is Caddy still with you?

sashafierce: She got a callback for Belle and she’s not answering my texts

gaylien: Sent a picture: she sleep

sashafierce: Aww

sashafierce: Gay

gaylien: no

sashafierce: Yes

gaylien: she’s just a cuddly person

sashafierce: Yeah, with you

gaylien: she cuddles with you all the time!

sashafierce: Only when you’re not around, you’re clearly her favorite

sashafierce: And she has never fallen asleep on my lap like a little kitten. Not once

gaylien: point made but i still say ur wrong

sashafierce: And I still say when y’all start dating you have to give me 20 bucks

sashafierce: Anyway I hate to disrupt that little burrito but you really should wake her up and tell her, she needs to make sure she knows the whole song by tomorrow

Janis tries to shake Cady awake, only getting a sleepy groan in reply. “Peanut, you gotta wake up really quick,” she murmurs, shaking her again.

“Wha’ happent? Why’d you wake me up?” Cady grumbles, cranky about being so rudely awakened.

“You got a callback for Belle, Damian wants to make sure you know the song for tomorrow,” Janis says, grinning as Cady rubs at her face like a cat.

“‘ll call’er back later. Lemme sleep,” Cady groans, smushing her face against Janis’ tummy. “Goodnight.” She says, muffled as she reaches up to pat Janis’ face before falling back asleep.

gaylien: she just said “i’ll call her back later” and went back to sleep

sashafierce: LMAO ok

sashafierce: I’ll talk to her about it in the morning I guess

sashafierce: Enjoy your little totally platonic sleepover, love you both

gaylien: she’s just a cuddly person!!!! she doesn’t like me back there’s no way

gaylien: i love u too but ur the worst sometimes

sashafierce: And you’re a whole idiot sometimes you oblivious sap

gaylien: damb i’ve been called tf out

gaylien: goodnight loser

sashafierce: goodnight dork

Janis texts her mom to ask if Cady can sleep over, since she definitely won’t be able to wake her up enough to get her home by this point. Her mom agrees, letting Cady’s parents know as well.

They both wore clothes they can sleep in, so Janis only has to wake Cady up to take her contacts out before they can both go to sleep. Janis boops Cady’s nose gently in an attempt to wake her, trying to contain her giggles as she scrunches it like a bunny and the corners of her mouth tick up in a grin.

Once Cady’s contacts are out, she flips down onto the bed and buries her face in Janis’ pillow. Janis reaches over to shut the light off before lying down next to her, making sure to leave a few inches of space between them.

“Goodnight, Caddy.”

———-

The next day is the dance call and callbacks. Everyone gets to meet the choreographer, Mr. Dunn, as he leads them through some basic stretches and a few pieces of basic choreography that would be in the show. He calls out certain people’s numbers after every section, making Cady nervous when hers is never called until she notices Damian’s was never called either. Maybe it’s a good thing.

She has a roughly ten minute break to cool down from the exercise and prepare herself for her callback audition, sucking down water from her small bottle and doing a few of the warm-ups Damian taught her. Belle callbacks go first, so she goes to stand with a crowd of about five other girls in line.

She’s more confident than she was yesterday, Damian’s new tips fresh in her mind since they had worked on it a little at lunch. She’s technically excused after she’s finished, but since Damian is her ride home she goes to take a seat in one of the cushy chairs and watches him do his.

Damian got a callback for both the Beast and Lumiere (again), but since the audition song was the same for both he was only required to stay for one. He shoots Cady a wink once he finishes, and she claps silently for him so she doesn’t disturb the other people preparing.

They meet in the cafeteria, Damian rushing to scoop her up and spin her around in congratulation. “You did so good, Cads! I seriously think you might get it.”

“You did good too, Dame. I hope you get whatever part you’re wanting,” She says as he sets her down again.

“We’ll find out later tonight, they’re sending the cast list out at eight. Janis wants to take you-us out to dinner, by the way. She says you get to pick,” He says, faking annoyance about not being allowed to pick where they go.

“Aww, that’s nice of her. We could go to that buffet place, they have everything. Then you can pick what you want too,” She says, trying to compromise even though he was joking.

“Sounds good, Little Slice. She’ll meet us there, let’s go,” He says, scooping her up again and carrying her towards the parking lot as she shrieks with laughter and wraps her arms around his neck.

———-

Once all three are absolutely stuffed, they meet back up at Damian’s house for a weekend sleepover. All of them immediately flop on the ground in the living room, Pippa coming over to sniff and lick at their faces before settling in on Cady’s chest for a nap.

“I’ve never been so full in my life,” Janis groans. “How did I even make it here, I shouldn’t have driven.”

“You drove me here,” Cady says, concerned.

“That’s on you for trusting me, dork,” Janis says as she somehow manages to peel herself off the carpet and trudge over to the couch. “What movie do y’all want to watch?”

“Let’s just nap,” Damian grumbles. “Come back, Jan.”

They form a cuddle puddle on the ground, Cady in the middle pressed against Janis, and Damian on her other side. Janis pulls her closer, squishing poor Pippa between them and resting her cheek against the top of her head.

When they wake up again, it’s dark outside and Damian’s mom is back from work. She put a blanket over the lot of them and gave them each a pillow, but Cady moved from hers in favor of laying her head on Janis’ chest.

“Morning, sleepy heads,” Mrs. Hubbard teases from the couch as they all sit up and rub their eyes.

“Hi, Ma. What time is it?” Damian asks blearily.

“Just after eight. I’m assuming you girls are spending the night?”

“Yeah. Cads, that means the cast list is out, come see,” Damian says, grabbing his phone as he stands up to stretch. He sees his mom sent him a photo of the three of them curled up on the ground, making it his lock screen quickly before moving to his email to bring up the document the director sent out.

Cady pokes her head around to look at the screen just as it loads, and they both gasp excitedly as they see the first name.

Belle: Cady Heron

Damian keeps scrolling, seeing he’s been cast as Lumiere once again. That makes him a little nervous, but he had a lot of fun in the role last time.

Karen was cast as Chip, and Gretchen was in the ensemble and would also be portraying the enchantress.

“Holy shit, Cads! You got the lead!” Janis cheers, stopping herself at the last second from kissing her and playing it off as a hug instead.

“That’s crazy, I thought they only gave big parts to people who’ve done it before,” Cady says dazedly, suddenly nervous as she returns Janis’ embrace. “But Damian is Lumiere, that means we get to be together a lot,” She adds as she pulls him in to make it a group hug.

“And I’m stage manager, we get more time together too,” Janis adds, rejoicing internally.

——-

Rehearsals begin on the first of February, Janis working on taping out the stage for blocking set pieces while Cady sits in the auditorium seats with the rest of the cast for their first read through of the script. Every time she hears her sweet, soft voice ring out Janis’ heart skips a beat.

Cady comes to find her when they get a break, while Janis is working on painting a piece that will eventually be the door to the house. “That looks really good, Jay,” She says, accidentally startling Janis as she comes up from behind.

“Thanks, Caddy. How’s practice going?” Janis says, plopping her brush into the water cup next to her and leaning back on her hands.

“It’s fun! Sonja keeps getting yelled at because she’s not supposed to swear but does anyway and Dawn doesn’t want to flirt with Damian, but I like it. Everyone’s really nice,” Cady answers as she sits next to her.

“That’s good, if they weren’t I’d show them my fists,” Janis says, brandishing her weapons. She had actually started working out lately, so that on the off chance she ever encountered a homophobe or bigot she’d be able to deck them with the most force possible. It’s a genuine threat.

“Your rings would hurt a lot,” Cady laughs, leaning closer to see how Janis reacts. She blinks at her for a second, but eventually also leans closer.

“I was listening to your run earlier, you sound good, by the way. You do her character really well.” Janis compliments.

“Thank you. It’s actually kind of easy. Belle’s a lot like me, I suppose. She’s from somewhere else and never quite fits in, loves to get lost in other worlds, she loves her family...” She falls for someone she never thought she would, Cady adds in her head as she trails off, looking meaningfully at the gorgeous girl sitting next to her. “I have to get back, I’ll see you later.” She stuns Janis with a peck on the cheek as she goes, leaving her blinking rapidly and gaping at the wall.

“Bye,” Janis replies, several minutes after Cady’s already left.

——-

They’re only more distracted by one another when they start dating two weeks into rehearsals. Janis nearly ruined one of the rose props because she was so distracted listening to Cady working on a scene, and Cady had lost count of the times she’d nearly fallen into the pit while looking to see where Janis was.

Cady also had a tendency to hyper-express her emotions; if she didn’t say out loud what she was thinking or feeling her face would let you know. It was quite useful when she was acting since she didn’t have to try very hard to get the mood across, but when she had other things on her mind it could be an issue.

She got several notes about it one day. She kept giggling during an emotional scene, remembering Janis trying to clean out the fog machine and having it puff out in her face. Then later, she looked too bored during Be Our Guest causing Damian to resort to increasingly ridiculous measures to get her back, but she was actually just disappointed that Janis wouldn’t be in her eyesight anymore now that she had switched to working up in the booth.

Janis was also struggling to keep on task, her mind occasionally elsewhere. She missed a cue she was supposed to call up to lightning because she was laughing so hard watching her (now literally) flaming homosexual best friend pretend to flirt with Dawn Schweitzer, who was Babette. A few days later, she was so distracted staring at Cady in costume for the first time that she absentmindedly started singing a song from High School Musical at one of Sonja Acquino’s (Mrs. Potts) lines under her breath.

It wasn’t until she heard “Sarkisian, your mic is still on,” buzzing into her headset that she realized she never hit the button after calling her last cue and scrambled over to the switchboard.

Eventually, the director has to pull them both aside before practice one day and ask them, politely, to get their shit together. They both nod, embarrassed, but he just ruffles their hair and says it’s cute, but they need to focus on the show during rehearsals.

———

As they get down to the wire, Mr. Dunn asks Cady if there’s any way she could work on the waltz scene on her own time for extra practice. She had terrible coordination with her feet, so she wasn’t too surprised she’d have trouble dancing.

“I just don’t know who to ask, I don’t know anyone who can dance,” She complains to Damian while they get their snack break, crunching frustratedly on her celery.

“Janis could help, she did ballet for almost ten years,” Damian says, putting a hand over his mouth as he does. “Don’t tell her I told you, she’ll kill me.”

Cady has to bite her lip to contain a squeal at the mental image of a young Janis in a leotard and tutu. “Don’t worry, Dame, I won’t tell her.” She says comfortingly once she’s recovered.

That night, Janis comes over for a movie night, sans Damian who was “busy”. Cady immediately pins her to the couch for cuddles, not that Janis is complaining. They lie there for a while, talking about their day and peppering kisses wherever they can reach. Eventually Cady pipes up again, saying, “I learned something interesting about you today.”

Janis tenses, that could quite literally mean anything. “Oh?”

“You never told me you were a ballerina,” Cady says, leaning on her elbows to hover over her and playing with the ends of her hair as Janis visibly relaxes beneath her.

“I haven’t told you a lot of things,” She teases. “Who told you?” It could only be Damian or Regina, they’re the only ones who know.

“Nobody.”

“Damian?”

“No.”

“I’m not gonna do anything to him, you can tell me,” Janis coaxes. “I’m not embarrassed about it or anything, I just have some bad memories associated with it. It’s how I met Regina, actually. Plus it just doesn’t really fit my vibe now, either.”

“Okay, yes it was Damian. But he didn’t mean to, I just need more help learning the dance for Tale as Old as Time, and he thought you could do it,” Cady mumbles.

“I probably could, I’ve watched you guys working on it enough. I think I know the steps,” She says, reaching for her phone to bring up the song as she stands up.

They push the furniture out of the way so they have room, Janis guiding Cady to where they should begin. “Okay, so you put your hand here,” She says, taking it gently and resting it on her own shoulder. “And then mine goes here.” She places hers on Cady’s waist, pulling her slightly closer.

Cady grins up at her as the music begins, following Janis’ movements and trying very hard not to step on her toes. It’s obvious she has some kind of dance background, she can follow the rhythm easily and the passion she puts into the movements makes Cady want to kiss her senseless right where they stand.

“That was good, Butterfly. Just loosen up a little, you’re so tense,” Janis says once they finish, still lost in each other.

“You’re really pretty,” Cady blurts after a second, staring into Janis’ eyes.

Janis laughs. “Thank you. You’re pretty too. Beautiful, even. Ma belle fille,” She coos, pressing a kiss to the tip of Cady’s nose.

“You know French?” Cady asks as they return to their starting positions to go again.

“Oui. My dad was French. I was born there, actually. He got sick a few years after, and he wanted my mom to have her family to support her through everything so we moved back here. My mom kept teaching me what she knew after he died, and his side of the family kept helping when she couldn’t anymore,” Janis says, smiling fondly as memories of her family run through her mind.

“That’s sweet,” Cady says, trying to remember the footwork and have a conversation at the same time. It does feel better now that she’s released some tension. “Wait, then why are you only in French 4?” She asks as the realization hits.

“Because nobody’s supposed to know,” Janis teases. “I get things wrong on purpose so nobody suspects anything. I didn’t want to be bumped up to a class with people I don’t know.”

“You’re such a dork, oh my god. Only you would purposely lower your grade in a class,” Cady laughs.

“What about you? I thought you were fluent in French too,” Janis points out.

“I used to be, but I speak so many things that are similar to it and I wasn’t using it regularly when we moved. I wanted to pick it back up, so that’s what I scheduled, and I tested into this one.”

“That makes sense,” Janis answers, spinning Cady out into a twirl before pulling her back. “Remember you’re gonna be in a big dress while this is happening, you’re not going to be able to be this close.”

Cady pouts. “But I like being close to you,” she whines.

How is she so cute? “You can be close for now, but you’re gonna have about five pounds of fabric between you and the Beast when the time comes,” Janis hums, kissing her soundly once the music ends again.

“I wish you could be my Beast. I like you much more than Jason,” Cady says lovingly. “Can you help me run lines while we eat?” She asks as her mom lets them know that dinner is ready from the other room.

“Thanks, baby. I like you more than Jason too,” Janis laughs. “Let’s go get food, I’m starving.”

———

Tech week hits and everyone is immediately exhausted. Other than in classes and watching each other on stage, the art freaks barely even get to speak. They still have homework and chores, so sleepovers and movie nights have taken a backseat and probably would until the show closes.

After the last hell week rehearsal, Janis is cleaning up backstage as everyone files out to head home. As she finishes, she notices Cady lying spread eagle in the middle of the stage, staring up at the ceiling. Slightly worried, Janis decides to investigate.

“You okay there, Butterfly?” She asks, nudging her with her foot gently.

“Yeah,” Cady says, patting the ground next to her. “Come lay with me?”

Janis does, settling next to her and resting her head against Cady’s shoulder. There is something relaxing about it, staring up at the scaffolding and set pieces hanging above them. It’s the first moment they’ve had alone all week, both of them soaking in the other’s presence as much as they can.

“Are you ready for tomorrow?” Janis asks quietly after a while.

“Yeah. I think I am,” Cady says softly.

“I’m so proud of you,” Janis says. “I can’t wait to see you in it for real.”

“I love you,” Cady whispers after another beat, rolling on top of her and leaning down to kiss her. Janis grips her hips tightly, pulling her closer and flicking her tongue against the seam of Cady’s lips.

They lie there for a while just kissing softly, lips meeting again and again as they’re illuminated by the stage lights. Cady pulls back after several minutes, drawing a frustrated whine from Janis. “Can you take me home? I forgot that’s why I stayed behind, I don’t have a ride,” Cady asks. “You can spend the night,” She adds seductively, rolling her hips slightly.

“Yes, I can, let’s go,” Janis says quickly, scrambling to her feet as Cady giggles. She shuts off the stage lights, and they escape the building guided by the soft glow of the ghost light, hand in hand.

——-

Janis is rushing around backstage frantically, headset around her neck as she nearly plows over several people. One of the bars broke on the dungeon set, and she has to find a last minute fix for Belle’s basket.

She’s dashing past the girls’ dressing room when Cady pokes her head out, barely hearing the “Janis?” called after her.

She spins around on her heel, heading back towards the room. “Yes, princess?” She asks breathlessly.

“Can you help me? I can’t get my bow in,” Cady pouts, holding out a blue ribbon. Janis takes it from her gently, spinning her around and tying it around her curly auburn ponytail.

“There. Vous êtes belle,” Janis hums, wrapping her arms around Cady’s shoulders and pressing a sweet kiss to her cheek. “You ready?”

“I’m nervous,” Cady mumbles, fiddling with the hem of her apron.

“You can do it. You’re my tough Kenya girl, this is just your next adventure. You’ll soar out there, my butterfly,” Janis comforts, squeezing her before letting go. “Break a leg, baby. Je t’aime.”

“Je t’aime aussi,” Cady giggles.

———

Cady is killing it. Janis can feel the energy of the audience, the way they’re totally engrossed in her performance. She is as well. She has to hold back tears as Cady weeps at being torn from Maurice, has to tamp down actual jealousy at her stage relationship with the Beast.

Damian’s a crowd favorite as always, getting laughs in all the right places and lots of applause when he finishes his number. Lumiere really is the perfect role for him. He does comedy better than anything, as Janis knows well. She’s been in the audience for every single show he’s done since they were freshmen, and she can tell he’s giving his all to the last one he’d do here.

Karen nearly gets more laughs than Damian, her comedic timing is on point, and Gretchen looks remarkably comfortable onstage surrounded by the rest of the ensemble. She had really come out of her shell during rehearsals, and Janis is oddly glad to see her looking anxiety-free for the first time in a long time.

She tries not to be too surprised when she spies none other than Regina George in the audience at intermission, two bouquets of flowers on the seat next to her and nibbling on some peanut M&Ms she’d bought at concessions. Regina has changed a lot over the past year. Janis doesn’t necessarily think they’ll ever be friends again, they don’t spend time together without Cady, but it’s still nice to see.

The whole show nearly goes off without a hitch, other than Jason getting stuck hanging from the ceiling during the Beast transformation scene and Cady nearly getting run over by a set piece during a scene transition. They’re both incredible actors and play both off in character near perfectly.

Before either of them are really aware of it, the show is over and the final number begins. Cady is looking directly at the booth as she sings the reprise of Tale as Old as Time, looking right at Janis. She’s unable to leave the box until the audience exits, but she cheers loudly for Damian during his bow with Mike Thurman, who played Cogsworth.

Cady’s bow is last, and she comes running out onto the stage in her poofy yellow dress with the biggest grin on her face. The audience (and Janis) claps loudest for her, giving her a standing ovation as she bows proudly and leads the acknowledgement of the pit and crew. She blows a kiss as she gestures to where Janis is in the booth, able to pass it off as going to the audience, but Janis knows it’s just for her.

——

Cady is standing amongst the crowd in the cafeteria with her parents, hugging them

both tightly and accepting the bouquet of roses they got her. People are constantly congratulating her, and she’s high off the adrenaline of the night.

She bids her parents goodbye and turns to go congratulate Gretchen and Karen, who are currently chatting with Regina. Aw, Regina got them flowers, she thinks, when suddenly a small form rockets into her leg and hugs her tightly. She looks down to see a little girl, no more than seven, wrapped tightly around her leg and smiling up at her with missing front teeth.

A woman, presumably her mother, comes rushing up, apologizing frantically and gently scolding her daughter. “I’m so sorry, she got away from me. Darling, I’ve told you not to leave my side.”

“Oh, it’s okay, she’s fine,” Cady says calmly. “Hello!” She chirps to the girl being pried from her skirt.

“Oh, she’s mute. Only speaks at home,” her mother sighs.

“Does she know sign language?” Cady asks.

“Yes, but we’re both still learning,” the woman answers, looking surprised as Cady crouches down to the girl’s eye level.

“Hello there, what’s your name?” Cady signs slowly.

“Hi, I’m Willow.” She signs back, fumbling over a few of the shapes.

The woman gasps, “You know sign?”

Cady nods. “I was mute too, I didn’t really speak until I was six,” she explains.

“I like your dress,” Willow signs once Cady looks back to her.

“Thank you! I like yours too,” Cady reaches out to tug gently on the hem of it, making Willow giggle. “Did you like the show?”

Willow nods rapidly. “Lumiere was so funny!”

Cady laughs as she stands up. “That’s my best friend, would you like to meet him?” She says out loud, holding out a hand. Willow takes it with an excited nod, placing her little hand in hers.

Cady leads them through the crowd to Damian’s tall form; made even taller by the candle hat he has on. He spins away from talking with Janis when she taps him on the shoulder, immediately pulling her into a tight hug.

“I’m so proud of you!” He exclaims, letting her go. “Who’s this?”

“This is Willow, she wanted to meet Lumiere,” Cady says, allowing the little girl to hide behind her skirt. Damian can be kind of intimidating if you don’t know how gentle he really is.

“Oh! Enchantée, petite,” He exclaims in character, turning his candle hands back on and kneeling down to her height. Willow seems to realize he’s not actually a threat, just very tall, and comes out from behind Cady’s ballgown signing excitedly to Damian.

“She says you were really funny, and you’re her favorite character in the show,” Cady translates, also bending down. “Oh, except for me.” She adds with a giggle.

“Ah, merci! I’m glad you liked it,” He laughs, adding, “Belle’s my favorite too,” in a whisper as if it’s some sort of terrible secret. Willow giggles again.

“Willow, we have to go now, darling. Say goodbye,” Her mother says from behind them. She frowns, but hugs Damian gently before throwing her arms around Cady again. Janis has to turn around to avoid cooing audibly at the adorableness.

Cady hugs her back just as tightly, saying, “Oh, adieu, little one. It was lovely to meet you,” as she passes her back to her mother.

Willow waves goodbye to them as she takes her mother’s hand, Cady and Damian both waving back. The mother thanks them both several times, nearly in tears as she leads her daughter out the doors, the little girl signing excitedly that Belle was just like her.

“That was sickeningly adorable, I hope you know that,” Janis says once they’ve gone. Cady is incredible with kids. Maybe they’d have a few mini-Cadys running around someday.

“I do indeed,” Cady giggles, finally getting to hug her girlfriend. “Now let’s go take some pictures, my mom wants some of all of us together before we get out of costume.”

——-

Damian drives them to Waffle House after they change into sweats, Cady still in full makeup and him with his gold-painted face.

Cady’s still off her face on adrenaline, chattering about how much fun she had that night so quickly that neither Janis or Damian can make a word out. She rushes inside the restaurant once they get there, bouncing excitedly at the promise of waffles. The waitstaff look a little frightened when they see she’s clearly in show makeup, but calm down once they notice it’s just the three of them.

They pick a booth, Janis pinning Cady to the inside so she can’t cause too much property damage with her excitement.

Once their food arrives, Cady wolfs down her meal and promptly falls asleep on Janis’ shoulder. Janis shifts to cradle her sleeping girlfriend like a baby, wiping some stray whipped cream off her lip and grinning down at her.

She continues talking to Damian as they finish eating, glad they finally have a chance to catch up. They didn’t get as many chances to hang out just the two of them now that she was dating Cady, and it had only gotten worse once the show had started getting more intense. They would always be first in each other’s hearts, platonic soulmates, but she’s still missed him.

“You two are so soft,” Damian teases once he’s paid for their food. Cady has to wake up for a minute so Janis can actually stand up, practically falling asleep on her feet until Janis picks her up. Working out also came with the added benefit of being able to carry her girlfriend around, which they both loved. Especially since Cady had a tendency to fall asleep in inconvenient places.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Janis answers as Cady wraps her arms around her neck and legs around her waist loosely, burrowing into her shoulder and going back to sleep.

Damian just gestures broadly at the whole situation as he leads them back towards his car. Janis decides to sit in the back, laying her girlfriend down gently before sliding in after and placing Cady’s head on her lap.

As Damian peels out of the parking lot, Janis smiles down at her girl, running her fingers through her soft auburn curls gently and trying not to giggle too hard when Cady puffs happily in her sleep and nuzzles into her hand slightly.

“Je t’aime tellement, mon papillon,” she whispers softly in French so Damian won’t understand. “Merci de m’aimer aussi.”

And they lived happily ever after.

------

thanks for reading! as always any and all feedback is appreciated, but please be kind.

lots of love,

ezzy

#cadnis #cady heron x janis sarkisian #paint by numbers #cady heron #janis sarkisian #damian hubbard #karen smith #gretchen wieners #regina george #karen smith x gretchen wieners #mean girls #mean girls musical #mean girls broadway

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mor-beck-more-problems · 3 years

Text

Corpses in the Meadow || Morgan & Eilidh

TIMING: Current

PARTIES: @braindeacl & @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: Nothing brings together two dead women like wildflowers and flesh eating watermellons.

Morgan had thought her days of laying in the ground for hours were behind her, but April really was the cruelest month and she hadn’t gotten free of its grip yet. Today, under a bright spring sun, she furrowed her nails deep into the earth and tried to pull herself under, as if the ground and all its creatures were a blanket for her. But of course the earth didn’t hold anyone like that except for the dead. The for real, permanent, definitely-no-walking dead. Morgan brushed her fingers along the newly sprung wildflowers, imagining what their petals felt like, if they were as tender and smooth as her memory told her they were. At least she could enjoy their colors, and their fluffy golden pollen centers. Morgan plucked some carefully by the stem and knotted them together from her sprawl on the ground. Maybe if she ever got to have a real funeral, she’d ask whosever was left to care about her for wildflowers. She should probably find out if her zombie goo was toxic to plants, but if she could go back to being a part of the world, if she could be felt and taken in, that wouldn’t be the worst thing.

Carefully, Morgan plucked more flowers from around her and wove them with care, on and off, between laying and watching the bright eye of the sun through the trees, until she heard the grass crunch behind her. Morgan tilted her head back, squinting to catch a glimpse of the figure. Please no hunters, she thought. I don’t want to convince a hunter I deserve to live today.

Springtime was here, and Eilidh couldn’t help but smile. For one so shrouded in death, life in all its forms filled her with delight. As the forest shivered, awoken from its winter slumber, she felt herself drawn more and more to its embrace. Of course, she did have the professional need to be there so frequently, but that wasn’t the main motivation. Even when her ventures were work focused, such as now, she took her time getting to the needed destination. Especially after the gateway adventure and all these damn fires. Between work and wondering what the hell was going on, she deserved to have a moment of relaxation. But she tried not to worry about that now. She inhaled a deep breath—the hint of spring air tickling her nose, so accustomed to just a suggestion of its true form she didn’t know the difference. The sounds of creatures, excited by the revitalized forest as well, filled her ears with a wonderful symphony. Colors that weren’t there the day before dazzled her eyes and—wait, who was that?

She squinted. Aye, looks like a person. Well, she should probably investigate. Changing course, she got closer, and closer, and closer, until she could clearly see what the other person was doing. Arms to her hips, brows furrowed, voice stern, she called, “Hey, you’re not supposed to do that!” A pause. Then, a grin. “Nah, it’s whatever. Just don’t pick too much, or I will have to actually ask you to stop.” Even closer now, she peered curiously as the braided flora, trying to make sense of its unfinished form. “What are you working on, anyway?”

The voice calling out to Morgan definitely didn’t sound like a hunter. “Sorry!” Morgan called dully. Then the voice warmed, not laughing, but bouncing like it wanted to. Slowly, Morgan sat up to look at her. Definitely a lot prettier and friendlier than any stranger she’d run into in the woods so far. “I’m making, well…” She looked down at her handiwork. It had gotten too long to be a circlet, unless she wanted to twist it over itself. “Honestly, I’m just passing the time. Making things helps me think. Or not think, I guess. Normally I do that at home, I’m not a serial flower picker or anything. I just didn’t feel like being inside about it.” But she did, apparently, feel like oversharing about it.

Morgan grinned ruefully and held it out to the stranger. “Do you want it? It’ll look better on you, with how tall you are.” She nodded at her, insisting. “Are these your woods?”

“Seems like you’ve had a lot of time to pass.” Eilidh mused while surveying the length of the, well, the to-be-decided. It reminded her of her own absentminded creations, especially during days when she would forego human society for days, weeks, months at a time. And it was a pretty little thing; she could tell its creator had experience.

She perked excitedly at the offering—eyes alight and giggle bubbling—and immediately claimed it, though with care. Within her grasp, she gently turned and twisted the woven piece, concentration on her face. Suddenly, epiphany. She dropped down to her knees, taking care to not disturb too much of the vegetation below. She wrapped it once around her head, quickly connecting the end piece to the rest, and then began to weave the remaining part within her own hair into a side braid. “I don’t claim them, but I do work here.” Feeling hospitable after the generosity, she continued. “Speaking of, I was heading over to do something. But I know a real good flower spot on the way. It’s not on a commonly used trail. So, nice and private. But you can’t pick any of those. And I’ll know, so don’t try. Still, they’re wonderful to look at, ‘specially right now.” She finished the braid. Part of the flowers still stuck out at the end; her hair just wasn’t quite long enough. Ah well. “Interested?”

Morgan looked up at the sky to check the position of the sun, then her phone to confirm her suspicions. She’d been laying here for hours and it had barely felt like anything. Maybe that could have been a relief, but she’d been down this proverbial hole too many times to be glad about skipping suffering by being absent from herself. “I guess I have, yeah…” Her voice tapered off into a laugh. Technically, she had all the time in the world.

She smiled in spite of herself as the woman wrapped the flowers into her hair. She seemed to have done it before. “So that’s why you’d have to stop me if I became too much of a flower thief. At least you’re a lot more pleasant than any of the other public service workers I’ve met in town.” Although between Marley Stryder and Kaden in his scowl-y asshole days, that bar was pretty low. Morgan looked at the sky again. It was well past morning, but she didn’t feel like going back home while everyone in it was away doing...alive-people things, presumably. “Uh...you know, I don’t see why not. It’s okay if I take pictures of them though, right? It’s not gonna hurt them any.” Slowly, she got to her feet and waited for the woman to show her the way. “If we’re going off on unknown woodsy adventures, I should probably know you as something better than ‘strangely nice park lady’. I’m Morgan.”

Mischief twinkled in Eilidh’s eyes when she looked upon the other. “You caught me. I want all the flowers to myself.” Sentence punctuated with a mock evil laugh. She did, perhaps, on her off time, pick flowers and use them for various things. She mostly placed them in her hair, or pressed them in a book, or added them to her crafts, similar to the one now braided in her hair. She always made sure not to take too much, and to give back to the earth in ways she could.

Her? Pleasant? James would scoff if he was near, but he was off having private time. Though, at times, she could be such a word. Especially when she was surrounded by all that nature could give: when the sun hit the nape of her neck and the breeze cooled her skin and the trees danced amongst the flow. It calmed her. It was why she always felt drawn to it. It was her home. It was the only true one she had left, anyhow.

She arose, brushing off remnants of the ground off her skirt. “Aye, photography’s fine. Just don’t have me in them. I don’t like paparazzi. And call me Macleod.” She nodded in greeting. Then, with her head, she motioned onward and began their journey. “This way. It’s not too far from here.” Initially, the trail they took was large and the ground smooth, packed down by many feet over the years: a main path. The trail Eilidh quickly turned into was less so. It was marked, and it would come up on the map if you looked, but the ground was noticeably less tame. And the surrounding wilderness knew this, knew the barrier between it and the path was weaker. Eilidh didn’t bat an eye as they continued.

Morgan laughed softly in response. “Are you saying you’re secretly an international pop star on the run, Macleod?” She teased dryly. “Because I could use the boost to my Instagram profile. Cat pictures interspersed with flowers, decaying animals, and their bones isn’t very mainstream.” She took out her phone, arching a brow, then turned and took a close shot of a tree branch. It was easier to hold herself up in front of someone, especially a stranger. She had her pride, even if sometimes she overshared to the point of distressing people. And then, new people were such convenient puzzles and experiences. She didn’t have to be sad looking at herself if she was learning their expressions and what they were like and how their presence colored the world.

She followed this woman, Macleod, down the trail. It was one of those obscure ones that was half grown over by neglect, or some unspoken message from nature. Morgan had a sense that they were passing into someone else’s territory. Morgan stumbled behind her, scanning their surroundings, the birds flying above the trees, the blur of butterflies in the distance. Further on, she thought she spied a shadow, some deer maybe, lazing on its way through its day. “And this is definitely a secret flower patch and not a secret murder patch, right…?” She asked.

“I’ll never tell.” She winked. Then, pause. Instagram. Eilidh was almost sure she knew which one that was. Should someone the age she looks like know what that was? She decided not to mention it and look it up later. “Really? ‘Cause all that already got my attention.” The brief moment the phone faced her, she stiffened ever so slightly—shoulders barely rose, face found a subtle hardness. As the lens passed on to a new target, the tension washed off her just as quickly as it came. Her eyes followed the new direction. A simple tree branch, but the way the light hit it just so… she understood the interest.

She let out a short chuckle. “Nah, the murder patch is half a klick that way.” She took note of Morgan’s unease and quickened her pace, figuring it was best to get to their destination sooner rather than later. The breeze picked up, brushing aside the flimsy vegetation ahead and the pair got an early glimpse of their goal. Colors erupted between the green, as if a window into another world. The wind took a turn, and the air suddenly became engulfed in a cornucopia of sweetness. Unfortunately, to her it was only a little tickle in her nose. Nothing more.

“Really?” Morgan said, brows raised. “Well that’s not something I hear every day. You don’t have a collection too, do you? Because I have a lot of death sculptures and I’m running out of shelf space.” Not that she’d been adding much to it lately. Between taking care of her family and being too miserable to cook for herself, she hadn’t been doing much in her studio besides breathing and spacing out. But if a normie like Cutler could find something nice in it, maybe Macleod could too.

But before Morgan could make her pitch, they arrived. It had rained the night before and the ground was still iridescent with water, which now shimmered in the sunlight as if enchanted with a glaze of pearl. White flowers streamed over the grass as if they’d been poured from the sky. Bunches of violets and peonies danced in the breeze and a thin haze of dandelion puffs and pollen floated like pixies through the air. Morgan gaped in awe, too awed to bother aiming her camera. “I was about eighty-five percent sure you were serious about this not being a murder patch, but stars above--” She tipdoed carefully into the flowers, trying to disturb as few of them as possible. “What are their names?” she asked, sinking down to brush the petals. “What do they smell like?”

Eilidh perked curiously. “Can’t say I have a ‘death sculpture’ collection. What’d they look like?” Images of a room overcome with ceramic skeletons filled her mind. And then, the same room taken over by structures constructed by pieces of the dead. But all theorizing dashed from her mind at the sudden burst of colors. Despite having found herself in the spot many times, the sight was still delightful. Especially now, when many of the flowers were finally awoken from their slumber—stretching, dancing in the spring air. Their full vitality overwhelming the area in every hue. The forest was a sky, and this was its rainbow. Morgan’s reaction reminded Eilidh of when she first found the area less than a year prior. Sadly, it was located just as the flowers began to take their rest. But now she can enjoy it in its full glory.

“Well, that one’s Jeffrey, that one’s Helga.” She pointed to flowers at random. “Kidding… Maybe. Who knows, they could like being called Helga.” Still, she wasn’t going to force upon them a name. But she wasn’t sure if her current company would understand the sentiment, so she continued. “Anyway, these are known as Dog’s Tooth,” she motioned to a congregation of yellow petaled flowers, “and those’re Lady’s Slippers,” it was the collection of peculiarly shaped flower’s turn to be gestured at. “To name a few.” She matched Morgan’s tentative steps and joined her by a dense patch of purple flowers, one of which Morgan currently caressed. While the petals were small, their large numbers resulted in a relatively tall plant. She nodded, regarding its presence. “This one is supposedly very obedient. But I can tell they still have a wild spirit.” She too placed a gentle finger on the petals, though her fingers hardly registered anything. Her nose faced the same situation. A faint sweetness lingered, but only enough to register its existence, not to understand. “Uh, they smell like flowers. Sweet. Ya know.” Odd question. It made her wonder.

Something lurked just outside of view. But it was coming closer.

Morgan was too swept up in the rainbow spray of flowers to notice anything in the shadows. She was picking her way over to the edge of the patch so she could lay down without crushing any of them. She took out her phone and photographed the biggest flowers up close, and then from as close to ‘below’ as she could. “Pixie’s eye view, you know?” She teased. She really did want to find out if this was how Sundew and the rest of her pixie family saw the world, but Macleod didn’t need to know that. “Also, I think it would be pretty great if you actually had named them. Helga’s especially pretty.” She brushed her finger over the petals and tried to remember what they felt like. She would think of them when she touched Deirdre’s lips. Sometimes they were so smooth, just a little sticky with her matte color of the day. Maybe this flower was like that. Morgan smiled fondly at the association. At last she put her phone away and sat up, simply enjoying the light in the moment. She took a deep inhale, but all she got was a faint whiff of...flower. She couldn’t detect enough to separate anything besides that soft, pollen-y perfume. “I...had my sense of smell damaged in an accident,” she said at last. “Nothing’s like it used to be. But it’s okay, if you don’t know how to describe it. And it’s probably hard, with so many around…” She let the thought go with a sad sigh, then sat a little straighter, forcing herself to brighten. “How did you find this? I know it’s your job to be here, but it must have taken a while to notice.”

For a moment, Eilidh’s eyes glanced upon Maybe-Helga: a beautiful white flower with magenta freckles at the base of elongated petals. She wished she knew what they thought of the name. She’d try asking another time. “Hm, maybe.” Before musing on that thought for too long, she looked back at the sound of Morgan taking a deep breath. Watched as her features and her words darkened in the aftermath, a rolling cloud casting a shadow over the otherwise beautiful day. Eilidh wanted to help. But she couldn’t even pretend. The true complexities of their scents had been lost to the forgetfulness of time. A part of a life she pretended was fully disconnected from her. What she could detect now was all she could ever know. Not that it bothered her much; how could you miss something you never knew?

“I spend lots of time exploring. Probably too much.” She winked, pressing a finger on her lips. “Don’t tell anyone.” While she took her job seriously, she never understood the notion that her entire time had to be utilized for work, and work, and more work. What’s the point of being among flowers if she can’t (sort of) smell them? But that thought was pushed out when a rustle occurred just on the outskirts of the meadow. An intrigued hum rushed through her throat as she got a closer look of the– “Watermelon?” Odd. She hadn’t spotted it when they first got there. And watermelons don’t just appear out of nowhere. Taking another step forward, her eyes scanned the nearby area. Trying to detect whoever left it behind. Focus drawn elsewhere, the watermelon quickly rolled up to her without detection. She looked down and it rolled to a stop near her feet. As if struck by an invisible knife, it was cleaved in two. Fangs protruded out of each half, filling the newly opened space. Her eyes held curiosity at the action.

But it craved blood. Its fangs dug into her leg. With a shout, Eilidh started wrestling it off.

“Watermelon?” Morgan repeated. She had moved on to another flower, which had a pistil so large it made the flower look like a face with a long, odd nose, and was thinking of a person-name to give it. So she didn’t notice anything was wrong until Macleod screamed.

“Oh, shit--!”

Morgan scrambled to her feet and trampled through the flower patch to get to the other woman. “Hold on, you’re gonna be okay!” She shoved her arm between its wet melon jaws, forcing it loose enough for Macleod’s leg to come free. The melon, hungry for anything, chomped down on her arm, shredding her muscles to ribbons. Morgan clamped her jaw shut to muffle the sound of her scream and tried to bash the melon into the ground. But strong as she was, the melon was pretty hefty, and with the pain and awkwardness, she only managed to dent a few chunks off its bulbous shape. “I got this!” She choked out. “Get as far away as you can!”

Pent up force building up as she struggled, when the hold of the watermelon was released, Eilidh tumbled backwards. She shot back up to see… Morgan had taken her place? Eilidh didn’t know whether to be worried or impressed by her tenacity. But it was no time for introspection, it was clear Morgan was suffering. Eilidh stuck out the—non-chewed up—leg and fished out the iron dagger strapped to the thigh. Then she launched herself back into the fray. The blade struck deep into the green flesh. She pressed it forward, adding a new gash. But this time, no teeth sprouted out. Instead, it seized, trembling for a few moments, until stillness took over. The teeth relinquished themselves from Morgan.

She stared at the mangled arm. But something, something familiar, was off about it. “Fuck. Ok, let’s get you out of–” More rustling. Eilidh whipped her head to the sound. Two watermelons revealed themselves. Perhaps this was their area? She’d usually try and leave them alone at this point, if willing. Or in this instance, pick up Morgan and leave. But her leg was still healing, so she wasn’t sure if she’d be fast enough to outrun their roll. Making a decision, she gripped her leg, fingers encircling the flesh loosened by the first watermelon. She ripped off a chunk and threw it away from the flowers. Bait. Like hungry sharks, the two dived at the morsel. While they were distracted, she kicked into one so hard it bent her toes into the balls of her feet. The watermelon went flying into the trunk of a tree. Smash! Red chunks flew out of the mouth cavity as it rolled back onto the ground. Her eyes locked onto the remaining one. While her attention had been focused elsewhere, it had started making its move towards Morgan. But Eilidh interrupted, pouncing on it and sending stab after stab. It tried to roll away, the thing was surprisingly slippery considering, but with one final strike of her dagger, it stopped as well.

Morgan tumbled free and rolled onto the flowerbed. The watermelon’s teeth hurt coming out just as much as they’d hurt coming in. She dug her hands into the ground, ripping up grass as her arm knit itself back together again. “What are you doing? They’re gonna--” She turned her head toward the carnage. Macleod was--handling herself just fine? She saw the woman rip off her leg and use it as bait. The rest of Macleod’s watermelon slaughter passed in a daze. That woman had just ripped off her leg. She ripped off her leg like it was nothing and she didn’t have anything coming out of it except for a few black globs of blood. She didn’t even look phased. Was this what it felt like when people watched her cut off her fingers?

When the last watermelon had been stabbed to a pulp, Morgan sat up, staring at Macleod with open wonder. “You ripped off your leg to save me,” she said. “And I turned my arm into hamburger meat to save you.” She held out the still-healing arm for emphasis, laughing deliriously. The two of them pouncing on watermelons to save the day when neither of them were in danger of dying again. It was hilarious. “So...you’re a zombie too, huh?”

Eilidh looked over at the carnage. Hopefully those watermelons would have a better go next time. She nodded, a casual bow, with words leaving her lips, so soft they were illegible. She turned, remembering eyes were still on her. Passions had distracted her. In the heat of the moment, she forgot to consider how Morgan would react to, well, the way her body reacted to violence. Her leg was in clear view, already at work to reseal the newly torn muscles. There was no denying it; no future attempt at naivety. She considered her options. The grip on her dagger tightened. Wait, no, no, not that. Not again. She sighed. “Let’s just forget this and get you help.” But before she could pick up the injured woman, her eyes focused on her arm. The arm that was also in the process of healing. Same as her own tattered limb. Tissue that hadn’t been there just a moment prior concealed parts of the lesion, with more on the way. Where the fresh skin hadn’t been produced, a familiar black ooze leaked out. Arm mirrored leg. Realizing no real danger to Morgan was present, Eilidh relaxed. All the two needed was rest. She wished she had known that a minute earlier, though. Poor critters.

And there it was. That word. Tension returned, forcing her body into a straight fixture. Face contorted, words sour. “No, I’m not! I’m a–” She took a deep breath. “Doesn’t matter what I am.” It sounded more like she was trying to convince herself rather than Morgan. “So you’re one then, yeah?”

“Oh, no!” Morgan said, grimacing with embarrassment. “It’s just. I’ve only seen two more of us. Ever. And one of them was my best friend who made me like this at the last minute. My last minute, not theirs, obviously. Uh--” None of these were the words she was actually trying to get out. “I’m not used to this. Or asking for personal terminology. Sorry. What I’m trying to say is I’m sorry. I know the z word isn’t for everyone and I shouldn’t have assumed, I was just--” She looked at her haplessly. “It’s just been a really lonely time for me lately. And you’re--kind of incredible. And it does matter to me, what you want to be called. Very much. But yeah. I’m one too. A year now, so, still new. Newer at this than it feels like. How long have you been...you know? Do you meet a lot of people like us out here?”

While her ears listened to Morgan’s words, Eilidh’s eyes drifted to the blade in her hand—both slick and sticky with the juices of the fallen. Curiously—it was flesh after all—she gave it a lick, collecting the remnants of the slain creatures on her tongue. Nothing. She tasted nothing. Figures. She wiped the rest of the juices off with her sock before returning the dagger to its holster. Her eyes returned to looking, watching, Morgan. Studying her. The heat from her outburst still burned at her throat, but it started to cool as the woman’s words sunk in. The apology seemed genuine, and the attempt at reconciliation was appreciated. The creases on her face lifted, revealing a softer expression. Especially at the admittance to the newness of her existence and the loneliness following; at that she finally lifted her hands, patting the air in a calming motion. “It’s alright, it’s alright. That word is just—I hate it. But I’m not mad.” Not anymore, at least. The flow of apologetic words had been enough to calm Eilidh’s sudden temper. Brief silence followed as she looked Morgan up and down. Considering. “I’m a Slúagh. Similar to—yeah. But not the same. Guess we’re sorta like cousins in a way. Besides you, I’ve only met one zombie in White Crest. But I’ve seen a few here and there over the years.” Never another just like her, however. But she refrained from mentioning or even hinting at… them. That would only lead to further questions; questions she was not in the mood to answer. “And let’s just say I’m old.”

Morgan squirmed under the intensity of Macleod’s gaze. “Hated, noted,” she said. “I’ve never heard that other term before. Slu-aagh? Is it a regional thing, or a time period thing, do you think? But either way, I mean, all my birth family died before I did, so I barely remember what it’s like to have a cousin. This still feels really--I know we don’t have biochemical instant affinity for each other like fae do, but it feels wrong to brush off finding each other, when there don’t seem to be many of us who survive long enough to be found. And if we’re lucky, there won’t be many other people who can know us as long as we can. That, and we just saved each other…” She petered into laughter. “Even if we were pretty much fine the whole time. So, why not? Be friends, or as much as we can be to each other. Have you fed recently, by any chance? Because I have some meal prepped brain burgers at home, if you want. Or I could grab some of whatever you eat, if that’s something different. If you want, of course.”

“Slúagh.” The word rolled off her tongue naturally. “Not just a term. It’s what I am.” Eilidh insisted, that fire ready to return if resistance was found. At the following statement, Eilidh simply just stared. She couldn’t remember having—no, she’s never had a family. At least not biologically. Slúaghs can’t reproduce after all. No matter how much she had tried. With the mention of friendship, the blank expression plastered on her face shifted into the hint of a pleased one. Eyes widened in interest. It was always nice, making a new connection. And she was right. This existence could get lonely, in that sense. It was impossible to find those like her, and rare to run into those like Morgan. At least ones that had a good grip on themselves. Not everyone was cut out for their unique lifestyle, even with help. And moaning and groaning didn’t make for good conversation, though the wrestling could be fun. The other ones, well. Most acted like she was lying about who—what—she was. Sometimes the thought was enough to send her tempers firing. Enough to make her generally avoid association with them, in case of opposition. But for some reason she still craved that kinship. While the use of us didn’t go unnoticed, and her face had tensed at the usage, Morgan seemed to be less dismissive than the average. And those gentle eyes were very persuasive, inviting. Morgan reminded her of James; she should introduce them.

A drop of hunger stirred from within at the thought of feeding, dashing out any contemplation. “Nah. And getting your leg chewed to hell makes a gal hungry.” The damaged leg was close to appearing as if nothing happened, a craving the only reminder it did. She hummed curiously. “Brain burgers! Fun. I usually don’t bother cooking. So, brain burgers it is.” A small chuckle escaped her. “What a first friend date, though, huh?” She gestured to the watermelon gore surrounding them.

It meant far too much to Morgan to hear the word “friend date.” She was smiling too much. When she looked at the watermelon gore around them, she burst with laughter that startled two birds from their nest. She had to clench herself still to keep from bouncing. “Yes! I mean, to the burgers. They take awhile to make, getting some flavor to actually, you know, flavor, but they’re pretty nice! Not like what you remember, if you do remember, but it’s better than plain grey stuff.” And now she was talking too much again. As you do. Morgan got to her feet and dusted herself off. “But all this--” She gestured, laughing again. “I think that’s just how White Crest brings people together.”

#corpses in the meadow #wr eilidh #wr chatzy

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itsapapisongo · 3 years

Text

animam agere*

Pairing: JohnTen

Genre: Angst (sort of) | Fluff

Tropes: Character Death | Established Relationship | Non-Idol AU

Word Count: 2K

Warnings: Character death, profanity

Summary: In a single blink, a normal day turns to tragedy. With a snap, everything turns to ashes.

Notes: * To have one’s last breath. | Once again, as it often happens, the despicable fiend known as Writer’s Block as arrived at my doorstep. Since I’ve been listening to Infinity War’s and Endgame’s soundtrack and planning on writing something involving the Infinity Stones and loss, I thought writing about the Decimation—or the Snap, if you prefer—was an interesting way to practice the Art of Angst.

Warning: This is completely unedited mess. ‘Nuff said.

“WHERE’S THE bottle opener thingie?”

Johnny closed his eyes and sighed, but he couldn’t quite conceal the small smile that spread across his face. He shook his head gently, chuckled, then turned to his boyfriend. Ten stood in their apartment’s small kitchen and titled his head in a this shouldn’t be this hard yet it is sort of way. A bottle of wine was in his left hand, the right gently placed on his waist as he read the label then glanced over his shoulder, toward the counter, as if whatever he was looking had magically appeared there. He bore a look of confusion in his face that Johnny found both adorable and amusing.

“You mean the corkscrew?”

Ten frowned, glanced at the bottle, then back at his boyfriend. “That’s what it’s called?” He asked, his voice laced with disgust. “Cockscrew?”

“Cork—“ Johnny enunciated slowly. “—screw.”

“Whoever named it that needs a swift kick in the ass.”

“Without them we wouldn’t be able to enjoy wine, though.” Johnny shrugged as he walked over and joined Ten in the kitchen. “So be thankful for it having a name.”

“Yeah, but ‘bottle opener’ works just fine.”

“It sure does.”

Ten clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, giving his back to Johnny. Though he did this quickly, Johnny caught a glimpse of that half-smile his boyfriend often had whenever he was being playful.

“So, Mr. I-Know-Big-Words . . .“ Ten placed the bottle on the counter and leaned on it, tilting his head to the side. “Where’s the damn bottle opener?”

“It’s in one of the drawers.” Johnny idly gestured towards the counter’s drawers behind Ten’s lower back. “Don’t know which one but it’s in there.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am.”

“Cool,” Ten exclaimed, clapping loudly. He leaned forward then, though he didn’t need to, stood on his tiptoes to gently peck Johnny’s lips. “Look for it then.”

“You do know that you’re abusing your power?” Johnny stood there, smiling and not entirely surprised. “You can’t do that every time you don’t wanna do something.”

“You wanna bet, Chicago?” Ten raised an eyebrow, smirking.

Johnny blinked and opened his mouth to respond but relented, smiling so wide that his eyes were crinkled and barely visible. He looked away, unable to contain his laughter, shaking his head and rubbing his forehead. He opened the drawer, found the corkscrew—pardon, bottle opener—and proceeded to open the bottle. He could hear Ten chuckling behind him then heard the faint but distinctive sound of phone’s camera.

“You look so whipped,” Ten said, his voice dripping with smugness. “Oh, wait—you are whipped.”

Johnny threw his head back, groaning then laughing. He glared at Ten for a second before softening and chuckling, eyes crinkled, smile wide. Ten leaned in, kissed him in the cheek, slapped his thigh, and took the bottle away as soon as it was uncorked. Before he could protest, Ten was pouring the wine on two glasses. When their eyes met, his boyfriend winked and blew him a kiss.

What little shit, he thought as clenched his jaw and bit his lower lip. His boyfriend sure knew that smirks and kisses often won him over. He know how to abuse his power well.

AN HOUR or so later, the bottle was empty. They had opened another—Ten had reluctantly done the favor—and sat on the living room, not quite watching TV yet not quite ignoring it. They were too involved in a whispered conversation to care about the drama flick Johnny had insisted they watched. Tom Hank was putting on a damn good show and that for the most part was going to waste.

It had been a while since they had found time to just unwind—to be in each other’s arms or kiss or tease each other—because with Johnny working long days at the studio and Ten interning at the art gallery they rarely conceded these days. But these moments mattered and they were meant to be cherished and they had promised each other that they would do whatever it took to enjoy them. These moments were rare and neither of them was about to let them slip through their fingers.

The relationship had started behind everyone’s back—with only Kun and Yuta being in the know—and they had taken steps to solidify what had started as a leap of faith into the unknown. Having been pretty certain about his sexuality then suddenly feeling like he was still learning about himself, for Johnny it was uncharted territory. For Ten, on the other hand, who knew what he liked and disliked since puberty, this wasn’t exactly new but it wasn’t exactly something he had experienced in. Flings were nothing when compared to a committed relationship.

Almost a year had passed since their first date. Neither regretted their midnight escapades. Neither regretted holding hands in public, passing it off as friends being friendly and indulging in “skinship”. They knew who they were, where they stood, and who they loved. Once, during their fifth date, when a woman on a nearby table gave them a judgmental look and harrumphed at them, Ten smiled and waved at her. Through gritted teeth, he mumbled, “fuck this, fuck that, fuck it, and fuck the rest.”

And so they did. Why lose time and wallow in pity when you knew who you were, when you had embraced who you were? Love is love is love is love. That’s all that mattered.

FUCK THIS, fuck that, fuck it, and fuck the rest.

“Why?” Johnny asked, doing his best not to look at the woman without feeling a mix of annoyance and delight.

“Because I love you,” Ten whispered, shrugging. “That’s why.”

“Oh.”

His boyfriend shrugged again, unfazed. “You feel me?”

“I feel you.” He chuckled sheepishly. When Ten reached out and intertwined his hand with his, Johnny couldn’t help but feel loved. “I just feel you.”

“Good to hear, Chicago.” Ten half-smiled, caressing Johnny’s chin.

TEN HAD laid his head on Johnny’s lap, his body sprawled across the couch. He was on his phone when he spoke up, a worried tone in his voice.

“New York is a mess,” he whispered.

“I mean it’s a big city and—“

“Not like that, you himbo.” Ten sat straight and showed him a video of Central Park. A figure clad in metal tones of red and iron fought a giant brute. A good chunk of the park was made a disaster in a matter of seconds. The video ended abruptly as though the phone had fallen to the ground. “Mark had mentioned a good part of Manhattan had to be evacuated but, shit, I thought he was exaggerating.”

Johnny frowned. Manhattan evacuated? Aliens in New York? It wasn’t exactly strange but it was surprising. Still after six years had since the Battle of New York, it was oddly and eerily surprising. Since then everything had drastically changed—the world had expanded and everyone was forced, one way or another, to forget what they knew yet ignored two truths: humanity wasn’t alone in the universe and something or someone out there was certainly watching.

“Is Mark okay?”

Ten shrugged, though the gesture was small. “He hasn’t responded in the group chat since, wow, almost six hours.”

“Should we worry?”

“I don’t—“ Ten paused, unsure. “Maybe. Let me just call him.”

Johnny nodded, offered a thumbs-up, and stood up. He took the empty wine bottle and walked to the kitchen, humming a tune that was familiar yet eluded him. He left the bottle on the sink, washed his hands, and opened the refrigerator. Something to eat would be nice, balance the alcohol high, keep things flowing, so he pulled a small cheese tray Taeil had given him the day prior. He glanced over his shoulder, saw that Ten was making the call, sheepishly opened the tray and popped in a grape.

“Hey,” he mumbled, his mouth full, “want a grape?”

“Yeah, sure,” his boyfriend replied, though it was clear he was distracted. He perked up, disgust in his voice. “Wait—did you just offer me grapes?”

“Oh, right.” Johnny nodded. “Fruits are a big no-no.”

“You better wash your teeth. I’m not kissing you with—shit, Mark, are you okay?” Ten stood up so fast he felt nauseous. “I just saw something online. New York’s a fucking mess. Where are you?”

A strings of impatient ‘uh-huh’s and worried ‘okay’s echoed in the apartment’s living room. His pacing was faint but Johnny could still hear it. For about a minute, there was silence. Though Ten had stopped moving, Johnny could hear his breathing. He heard in his boyfriend’s voice relief as he assumed that Mark told him he was safe, probably away from all the danger and the destruction that had been unleashed mere blocks from where Mark had been.

“Call me back as soon as you get to the airport.” Ten sighed. “Well, fuck, at the very least text me.”

Johnny popped in another grape, frowning. “Everything okay?”

Ten nodded, but it was an apprehensive nod. The kind of gesture that said yeah, for now. He raised a finger that said one second, nodded again, then hung up. He sighed and looked ashen but definitely relieved as he threw his phone on the couch.

“He’s getting on a flight back to Seoul.” Ten rubbed his left temple with his thumb. “Says it’s best if he enjoys the rest of his vacations here.”

“That’s good, right?”

“Better here than the super dangerous capital of the world.”

Johnny nodded. He reached for something on the tray and offered it. “Cheese?”

Ten scoffed. He walked to the small coffee table between the couch and the TV and picked up his glass and the second bottle of wine. “No, wine,” he said. “Now pour me another glass.”

“As you wish.” Johnny winked, taking the bottle. He popped in the piece of cheese his boyfriend had neglected and munched on it, humming that familiar yet elusive tune again. As he poured the wine, Ten held his glass and bit his lower lip. “Bottoms up.”

“And tops down.” Ten nodded, winked, and took a sip.

Johnny turned, smiling, feeling a bit better. A frowning Ten required cheering up. And he was up for the challenge of turning that frown upside down and what better way than to—

Something fell—glass shattered on the ground, wine splashing behind it—and Johnny whirled, worried and ready to help. Ten was frowning, his entire face contorted with confusion and uncertainty. Johnny blinked and saw that Ten’s right hand, up to his forearm, was gone . . . but that couldn’t be—or could it? Where there was once fingers was replaced by empty space and—were those ashes or was it dust? Ten looked up, the frown replaced by fear, sudden, real, overwhelming.

“Johnny?” He asked, his voice trembling. “What is—“

“Ten?” Johnny reached out for his left arm but it crumbled into dust—no, ashes—in his own palm. He tried to grasp him by his forearm but only managed end up with handful of ashes. “What is—no, no, what the fuck is going on?”

“I don’t—” Ten gasped.

Johnny reached out and pulled him close, felt his weight against his chest for a second—felt his breath, felt his warmth—until he didn’t anymore. He closed his eyes and was washed, head to toe, in ashes. He was grasping at nothing but air and a cloud of grayish-brown ashes. Johnny stood there, eyes closed, trembling, unsure of what had happened.

He felt numb as though someone had thrown cold water over him; his legs gave out and he collapsed, his back and head sliding against the small space between the counter and refrigerator. He could only hear his breathing, uneven and loud, and the faint rumbling of thunder outside. The thunder echoed like the dull roar of a beast that had been awakened.

“I feel you,” Johnny whispered between sobs and sniffs. “I feel you, Chittaphon, I feel you.” He hugged himself, hyperventilating. “I only feel you.”

All he could think of was the look of terror in Ten’s face.

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muertawrites · 4 years

Text

Two Halves - Chapter Five (Zuko x Reader)

Part Four

Word Count: 3,300

Author’s Note: I was up until 4am finishing this on Thursday night, and honestly, the way my single brain cell was barely functioning at that point, I’m surprised this even got done, let alone that it got done relatively well. We’re also getting super close to 1,000 followers, so if you like this series or any of my other works, PLEASE subscribe! I’ve got some fun stuff planned once we get there that I’m really excited to start planning!

~ Muerta

Despite their rocky beginning, your first few weeks as Lady of the Fire Nation go surprisingly well. After your conflict with Advisor Lin, everyone begins to treat you with newfound respect - even Zuko. Your first breakfast together was the last time he advised any of your aids to be moderate or keep their distance from you, instead encouraging them to speak to you as directly as they would him, openly reproving them when they treat you as if you aren't capable of grasping everything they face you with; of course, you very much feel like you aren't, remaining stoic during morning briefings in the dining room while inwardly panicking, hearing everything but only able to decipher about half of it. You’re lucky you’re still shadowing the Firelord, learning your place and duties; once you’re sent out on your own, you have a feeling you’ll drown before you even get the chance to tread water.

Protective as he is, Sokka arranges to stay in the palace until you’re completely settled, stating that it’s his duty as the chief ambassador for the Southern Water Tribe; you know that the real reason is because he’s worried to death about you, trying his hardest to keep up the tough, unflappable big brother act for nobody's sake but his own. Toph also decides to extend her trip, quite concerned herself but mostly using the political tension as an excuse to catch up with you, Zuko, and Iroh - you don't mind, since having her around is an endless comfort to you, and you often invite her to sleep in your room so you can pretend that you’re just two friends enjoying normal young adult lives.

Each day spent in Firelady prep school is a new lesson in what exactly the role means, and you’re quickly finding that it’s much more than observing any of the first ladies of the Water Tribe could have ever prepared you for. They were considered accessories to their chiefs, appearing beside their husbands mostly for aesthetics and only truly serving the purpose of giving birth to sons to take his place; as the Firelord’s wife, you’re seen as an extension of him, and he an extension of you. Your people view you as the monarch and matriarch of a massive, powerful clan, and expect you to live and act in sync with one another for the betterment of your children, both literal and metaphorical. Nation comes before everything, any action that could suggest intentions otherwise criticized with the utmost scrutiny; disgrace is all too easy, while honor seems near impossible.

You have tea with Zuko every night before bed; the more you learn about the culture of his upbringing, the more you empathize with his younger self.

“I understand now why you were so angry,” you admit to him one night. “They make you feel as if just being human were a mistake. I'm already frustrated - I can't imagine what seventeen years of it was like.”

Zuko hums, his face taking on a wistful, somber expression.

“That's what my father did to me,” he explains. “Everything was wrong, even if it was what felt natural.”

He takes your hand in his, his thumb grazing over your knuckles as he gazes off in thought.

“We can change that, though,” he tells you. “Things already feel better with you here.”

For a country that just ended a century long war in which they were the main aggressor, you would think that your advisors would put more energy into matters of diplomatic affairs than your image.

“I'm just uncertain what a choice like this could make the nation feel,” Advisor Yong says. “We’re already walking a very delicate line.”

You stand in one of the palace’s many meeting parlors with Zuko, Advisors Yong and Sung, Sokka, Iroh, and the royal seamstress, pouring over multiple yards of fabric she's brought for the robes that will immortalize you in your wedding portrait. For the past forty-five minutes, you've been debating whether you should be pictured wearing Fire Nation or Water Tribe clothes - the proceedings have been dismal at best.

“The representation of our tribe is important to our people,” Sokka replies to Advisor Yong. “We’ve been small for decades, and mostly because of the Fire Nation - she should wear a traditional dress.”

“But certain people in our nation are still very put off by the idea of a foreign queen,” Advisor Yong argues. “A man was already killed over the matter; embracing it so fully could spark anger and endanger her and the Firelord even more.”

In the time you've spent with Advisor Yong, she's grown to be your favorite of anyone within the royal council. Her small stature and plump, motherly features make her seem gentle and subdued, but her kindness only runs so deep; when faced with confrontation, she's like an angry bull - fierce, but in a way that's so swift and graceful, you barely notice her goring into you until she's shredded you to pieces. She's been one of your most supportive council members as well, guiding you in matters of proper Fire Nation etiquette and culture and sticking her neck out farther than could possibly be expected to keep you safe. You can see Sokka getting irritable, but you know she speaks with a voice that only has your best interests in mind.

“Perhaps we should consider the external perception,” Advisor Sung suggests. His soft spoken manner is a welcome reprieve from the increasing bitterness in Yong and Sokka’s tones. “Yes, it's quite important that the Southern Tribe is recognized, and doing so will present a compassionate image of our nation. On the other hand, however, having our lord and lady in different traditional dress could suggest division; picturing them as the same would imply a more unified pair.”

“Maybe we should put Zuko in a Water Tribe outfit,” you suggest flatly. “Make it look like we’re pushing you guys around for a change.”

Zuko snickers beside you, raising a hand to his mouth to (ineffectively) stifle the sound under the guise of a cough. The rest of the room is deathly silent, its occupants either oblivious to your sarcasm or deeply unamused by it.

“I believe what our lady is trying to convey,” Iroh chimes in, “is that we have hardly taken her own thoughts into consideration. After all, it is her marriage and her people she must represent.”

“Okay, so what do you think?” Sokka prods, turning to you. “Do you want to wear Fire Nation clothes or Water Tribe ones?”

You sigh, dropping your eyes to the mixture of red and blue fabric sprawled out before you.

“Honestly? I don't know,” you confess. “There are too many issues with either choice. I think we need more time to gauge how people react to me just being here before we decide.”

“My lady, I understand,” Advisor Yong says, “but as cautious as we have to be, we can't be too hesitant; you can’t possibly hope to bear children in a few months’ time if we can't come to a decision on something like this in a timely manner.”

You and Zuko both jolt, instinctively backing away from one another.

“Children will come much later,” Zuko sputters, his cheeks turning the same shade as his robes. “Right now we have to focus on getting the people of our nations to agree with each other.”

“And children are an important part of doing so,” Advisor Yong explains. “They’ll serve to physically embody the union of the two nations; the sooner you become pregnant, my lady, the quicker we may resolve the issue.”

“I’m not going to bring a baby into this world just to be a political pawn,” you snap, a bit more harshly than you intend to. “That wouldn’t be fair and I couldn’t do that to my kid.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Zuko glance at you with an expression you can’t quite place. You want to reach for him but restrain yourself, feeling strange about showing him any sort of intimacy with an audience.

“We need to decide what will be done about this portrait before we decide what will be done about heirs,” Iroh agrees. “We should give our lady more time to think on the matter. Could we spare another day?”

Advisors Yong and Sung look to one another, Advisor Sung nodding his compliance. Advisor Yong also concedes, her tone almost apologetic when she speaks.

“Another day will be just fine,” she says. “We’ll leave the final decision to you and your husband, my lady. Have Rina bring your instructions to the seamstress when you’re ready.”

Your stomach flutters manically when you hear the words “your husband”. Advisor Yong has never referred to him as such, only ever calling him “the Firelord”; somehow, coming from her, the title feels much more significant than just the result of an arranged marriage.

You flop down in the grass beside Zuko, burying your face in the sleeves of your robe. He chuckles, tossing another apple peel to the turtle ducks in the courtyard pond.

“At least they’re being nice,” he consoles you. “Advisor Yong called me a coward in front of the whole council when I told her I wasn’t sure about getting married. She was right, but it’s hard getting your ass handed to you by someone who looks like a sweet little grandmother.”

You sigh, rolling over onto your back and tilting your head to look up at him. He gives you a faint, assuring smile, which you can’t help but return.

“I totally understand why you snapped when we were kids,” you tell him. “I’ve been here less than a month and I already want to go apeshit. Did you know that one of our advisors told me to take my betrothal necklace off the other day? The slimy little bastard waited until you left the room to do it, too! He told me it made me look less like a ‘naturalized Fire Nation woman’, and I told him that anyone who expected me to look like one was either stupid or delusional. And what, we need to have kids right way for the sake of political leverage? That’s horrible! What kind of monster brings a child into the world just to use them their whole life??”

You draw back when you notice Zuko’s fallen expression. You’ve sat up by this point, and your near-screaming has scared the turtle ducks to the other side of the pond. You feel your heart drop into your gut, wishing you could take the words back.

“Oh, Zuko,” you breathe. “I’m sorry. I didn’t…”

Zuko shakes his head, closing his eyes and taking a deep, measured breath. You watch his chest rise and fall, his shoulders loosening as he exhales. When he opens his eyes again, he meets yours, the knot between his brows unraveling.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “I know. My father was a monster. And my mother… she just did what she was told. I never realized how much she sacrificed for me until she was gone.”

You inch closer to him, warily reaching for his hand. He takes it, lacing his fingers with yours and gently tugging you to sit beside him, reclining against the trunk of an ancient maple tree. He leans into you, clutching your hand tightly.

“Sometimes I wish the worst thing he did to me was use me,” he laments. “Then maybe I wouldn’t have done such awful things to the people who loved me.”

“Zuko,” you whisper, tightly squeezing his hand, “you’re not your father. Just the fact that you asked me to marry you proves that. You didn’t choose your family based on who would make you powerful. You chose me because you love my siblings, and they love you, and that’s exactly why I agreed to be with you. I never met your father, but I know for a fact that he never knew love like you do; he wouldn’t allow himself to because he thought it was weakness. But you’re so much stronger than he is, and could ever be, because Katara and Sokka, Aang and Toph, and Iroh - all of us are here with you. You allow yourself to show weakness in loving us, which is the bravest thing you could ever do. You are nothing like Ozai.”

To your surprise, Zuko smirks at you; the corners of his eyes glimmer with the buds of tears, however, and the rest of his features don’t rise to match the expression on his lips.

“No wonder Uncle likes you so much,” he says. “You sound just like him.”

You scoff, punching him in the shoulder. He laughs, playfully tossing you over his lap and pinching the soft sides of your stomach, an area he discovered was sensitive by accident one day whilst he was walking you through the palace; you giggle hysterically, trying in vain to fend off the attack. He retreats after a little while, sighing as he cradles you in his arms - your head presses to his chest while his chin rests atop your head, hugging you tightly in a way he hasn’t done before. You wrap yourself around him, arms latching about his waist to hold him just as closely.

“I won’t let them pressure us,” he assures you. “We’re family, and we have to take care of each other. That’s all I ever want to do for you.”

You nestle into him, curling your body closer to his while your arms squeeze at his sides. He kisses the crest of your head, a rare display of affection he’s only done a handful of times - it makes you realize that even when you were teenagers, and Sokka started to make serious suggestions about keeping his promise of marrying you after Hakoda left you in his care, he never once made you feel as safe as Zuko does.

“I hope I wasn't interrupting anything with my invitation,” Iroh greets you when you arrive at his chambers.

Before your nightly pot of tea with Zuko, a messenger came to your quarters telling you that Iroh wished to see you; when you asked why, the messenger told you that the general wanted to teach you to play Pai Sho. You looked to Zuko quizzically, wondering what was so important about knowing how to play a board game that you needed to be summoned so late in the evening, and he sent you off, assuring you that, knowing Iroh, it was worth taking up the offer.

“Just Zuko’s tea,” you tell him, “which, if it weren't for his company, I think I'd bail on every night.”

Iroh chuckles, leading you inside and lowering you onto a cushion on one end of a large Pai Sho table; he takes the other seat, smiling good-naturedly at you.

“Unfortunately, my nephew has never quite taken to the art of tea brewing,” he says, “no matter how many times I've tried to teach him; I take comfort in the fact that he's much better with a sword than I am, instead.”

You grin, watching as the old man spreads a set of tiles across the game board.

“Do you know of the significance of Pai Sho within the royal families of the Fire Nation?” he asks; you shake your head in response.

“It is traditionally learned as a way of teaching our young leaders to rule with strategy,” he explains. “It is meant to teach a balance between inner passions and outward logic, as well as how to observe one’s peers; those who practice Pai Sho diligently know how to pinpoint an opponent’s weaknesses while understanding and controlling their own, keeping others from using their shortcomings against them.

“Each tile has a meaning,” he continues, “and represents a different positive or negative attribute. They may only move in certain ways, but can change their effect on the game based on how the player chooses to use them within each environment. For example…”

Iroh goes on to explain each tile and its movements to you, walking you through each element of the game and practicing different tiles with you until you can actually place them in a somewhat skilled way. When you're comfortable, he plays a simple game with you, aiding you in which possibilities cause which consequences and pointing out ways you can better defend your side of the board. You play five games with him in total, never winning but trying as if you stood a chance against such a skilled player as him.

When you lose the last game, Iroh removes the last tile you played and replaces it with the white lotus - you quirk your brow, wondering why that would be the better move.

“I thought the white lotus was a weak tile,” you question him. “Why put it up against something as strong as the flame tile?”

“There are no weak tiles in Pai Sho,” Iroh instructs you, “only ones that are often overlooked. Sometimes we must look at things from a different perspective, you see; manipulate the odds by doing something unorthodox and unexpected. If your opponent cannot anticipate your actions, they cannot overcome you.”

Iroh removes the white lotus from the board, taking your hand within his and placing it in your open palm. He folds your fingers over it, closing your hand between both of his.

“Keep this with you,” he says. “It may help you someday.”

“But won't your board be incomplete?” you ask.

Iroh chuckles, giving you a mischievous wink that makes you feel almost as if the man is in some way omniscient.

“I have plenty of others,” he assures you. “It will do much more good in your hands.”

The next day, you accompany Rina to the seamstress’s workshop, wanting to give her the instructions for your portrait dress yourself. When you tell her this, Rina is clearly confused - she gently attempts to explain to you that it isn’t necessary, that she’s supposed to handle these sorts of things for you, but once you reveal what you have in mind, she shifts completely.

“The council is going to hate that,” she says. “I think it’s a great idea. I can take you to the seamstress, come with me.”

When you relay your plans to the seamstress, she’s also shocked - her eyes widen, and she physically backs away from you as if even considering following your orders will get her executed for treason.

“Are you sure?” she asks. “It isn’t what the Firelady would typically do…”

“And I’m not a typical Firelady,” you reply, your tone bright and straightforward. “I’ve been asked to do what will create compromise, and this is the best compromise I can think of; I’m simply doing what I’m meant to.”

The seamstress agrees, but only after you give her your vow that she won’t take any of the blame should the idea backfire (you're in charge, after all, so what can anyone do? She’s just following orders.)

In white fabric, she makes a set of robes for Zuko and a dress for you, each including elements crafted in Fire Nation and Water Tribe tradition. She then takes each set to its own vat of hot water, adding blue dye to one and red dye to the other - she places the pieces in, looking nervously up at you as you approach the twin cauldrons.

“I just want to make one last adjustment,” you tell her.

Before she can respond, you take a bucket of blue dye and a bucket of red and tip each one into the opposite vat. The garments swirl as if caught in the midst of a tempestuous storm, the dye bleeding into the pristine fabric until it stains a shade of vivid, furious purple.

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