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randonowrong · 4 years ago

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Sir Billiam (Technoblade), Ranbutler (Ranboo), and James (Sapnap) x Servant! Reader [HCs]

A/N: I put it under the cut because it’s so long. I honestly just started writing and unknowingly put so many words into these headcanons. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Lord Billiam III (Technoblade):

You are one of his many employees at the estate.

You were an orphan that was brought (bought) by his parents to serve at the estate since their servants kept dying or leaving.

Growing up you were taught how to do household chores by the older servants.

Seeing as you are in the same age range as their son, your masters decided to make you his personal servant.

With how Billiam grew up into an adult, I would assume that he was taught this during his childhood.

His parents were very critical of the social divide between you and their son.

You never forgot the reminders that you were nothing compared to them.

Billiam kept the act his parents wanted whenever he interacted with you in front of them.

But he was always kind and gentle with you compared to the other servants even his parents weren’t present.

He taught you how to read and write, leaving you with his favorite books whenever he had business to attend.

He loved when you ran to him to ask something about the book that you couldn’t understand, or when you didn’t know what a word meant.

This went on for years until his parents caught you in his room reading while he wrote at his study.

He heard them start screaming profanity at you and he ran into his room to see you being dragged by the hair outside.

He walked forward to help you but his father told him to stay because they had to deal with the “filth”.

Months went by without him hearing or seeing you. He assumed the worst, his parents had you killed.

During the period, he refused to have another servant but you.

He acted out against his parents’ orders and started on his path to independence.

He focused on his studies and work so that he could take over the family business and lands so that he can find you.

After a long time, he finally saw you again.

This was when he stayed up late due to managing some family matters and he stepped out of his room to get some fresh air.

There you were, in the servant’s clothes, on your knees and wiping the floor clean.

“Y/N?” he asked, reaching out to you.

After you heard him you stood up and took a deep bow. “I apologize for disturbing you my lord, I shall leave immediately.”

He had no time to stop you from taking the cleaning supplies and booking it downstairs.

Every future instance where he tried to talk to you was met with profuse apologizing and leaving.

He eventually gave up on interacting with you, as in the few moments that you do, you make it clear you don’t want anything to do with him.

Without his anchor, his tether that kept him humane, he was consumed by the snobbish teachings of the aristocracy.

When his parents finally died, Billiam became the sole owner of the many properties and subsidiaries his parents’ managed.

His cruelty knew no bounds, severely punishing servants who made a slight mistake. Servants...except you.

When the heir became the lord, you had become appointed as the head servant of the estate, in charge of managing and teaching the staff to serve.

Servants would notice the tense air that hung when you and their employer would interact, the casual reports on the happenings at the estate, servants being laid off for mistakes, etc.

The first time you two had conversed without the awkwardness is when a deal he wanted to secure fell through. He was livid, destroying everything in his quarters.

Knowing that any miniscule slight while Billiam was furious would result in severe punishment, you took it upon yourself to fix the room. Deciding to spare the other servants from possible suffering.

When the noise of glass being thrown, tables being flipped, and paintings being torn had ceased, you decided to enter the room and tend to your lord.

Billiam stood by his overturned desk. Shards of glass from the decorations he threw stuck in his bleeding hand.

“My lord you are injured, please allow me to tend to your wounds.” he tensed after hearing your voice call out to him.

Turning around he observed the wreckage that he caused, his eyes stopping on your figure holding a rag and setting down a basin of water on the ground.

The room grew silent as you were crouched down and tending to Billiam, no sound threatened to escape from either of you.

When you finished picking out the shards and cleaning the wounds you stood up with the basin, now colored red, to leave the room when he grabbed your hand “Stop.”

Complying, you stopped in your tracks and faced him. “Yes my lord?”

“I-I...” he clenched his fists, trying to find the right words to tell you.

His mind cleared, he knew what he needed first from you. “I command you to tell me why you were and have been avoiding me!” he shouts, raising his voice.

You sigh, eyes drifting to stare at the floor as your lips open to answer. “It would be best to show you my lord.” you answer, setting down your things, you untie the affixes of your attire.

With the last of the strings untied, you turn around and move your top to expose your back to him.

His mouth agape, he stared at the lashes on your back, the burn marks, the deep cuts. “Wha-”

“It was your parents, my lord. They did not like it when they saw how close we were.” you added, beginning to fix yourself back up.

You felt him crash into you, pulling you into a tight hug, as his breath fanned your nape. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this.” you feel warm tears fall on your bare neck.

You let him be open with his emotions, as the dam that kept all of the pain in for the past years cracks and floods out. You hear him mumble apology after apology to you.

When his tears falter, you turn around and pull him into a hug. Tangling your hand in his hair and nudging his head into your neck to comfort him.

“Don’t apologize for feeling what you feel.”

His breath hitches as you continue speaking.

“And don’t apologize for loving me.”

That night was spent with Billiam being in your arms as he had wanted to be for years, finally feeling the warmth he did when you were both young.

The next day, your belongings were being moved by the servants outside of your quarters. Under orders from Lord Billiam they answered when you questioned why.

“You will no longer be the head servant, (Y/N).” Billiam stated as he walked towards you accompanied by three maids.

“From now on you shall be mine, the spouse of Lord Billiam III.” he smirked, holding out a hand for you.

You reach out and grab his hand “Yes, my lord.”

Ranbutler (Ranboo):

A fellow servant under the employ of Lord Billiam III.

The both of you were employed on the same day, as your new master needed more servants to manage the happenings around his vast estate.

Ranboo had no time to introduce himself to you as work was immediately shoved upon his shoulders, he would be acting as the personal servant at the side of Lord Billiam.

You, meanwhile, were in charge of managing the storehouse and making sure everything your master needed was in stock.

Life...is hard when serving under an aristocrat, more so under Lord Billiam.

He was very critical of everything and all he does is done with utmost perfection. Failure wasn’t allowed at his manor.

Thankfully, you were able to adjust easily to your job. Taking walks around the estate to question the denizens of the necessities which were needed. Being able to pick out the most affordable but high quality items.

Which lead to you being one of the few that did not catch the ire of your master. He had even given a sarcastic statement which sounded like a compliment? You were unsure if he was capable of complimenting a mere servant.

When Lord Billiam needed to attend to business away from the city, he left Ranboo in charge of acting in his stead, as one of his closest aides.

Most of the servants breathed a collective sigh of relief when the carriages, carrying your master, had left the confines of the property.

The few servants that stood by the side and watched the others silently knew something.

They couldn’t slack just because he wasn’t here. Lord Billiam has eyes and ears everywhere, so slacking off was something never to be done.

From the corner of your eye, you could see Ranboo walk and stand beside you. “Lord Billiam wants stocks of wine and other refreshments to be present in the cellar by the time he arrives. He specifically instructed to only procure the best, so do not worry about the cost.”

You nod and continue watching the rambunctious bunch of servants. “Of course. I assume Lord Billiam instructed you about that?” you question.

He gives a slight nod and turns to walk back inside the manor leaving you.

The next day, most of the servants had taken it upon themselves to have fun while doing their job. The cooks used ingredients to cook meals for themselves, the cleaners allowing dust and dirt to gather on the furniture.

You took your daily stroll around the place, taking mental notes of whatever the servants you crossed paths with were doing.

Absentmindedly you bumped into someone’s chest and mumbled a quick “Sorry.”

Looking up you came faced with the trusted aide of your lord. “Would you like to join me for afternoon tea?” he invited, gesturing to the direction of the balcony.

You raise a brow and begin walking with him towards the balcony. In your mind you wonder what his plans may be, knowing Lord Billiam must have trusted him with that.

Arriving at the balcony a gentle breeze blew through your hair as you looked at the table in front of you. An assortment of treats and sweets were laid out, a pot of tea with two cups and saucers present as well.

Ranboo walked to one of the chairs and pulled it out, gesturing for you to take a seat. When you did, he walked to his own and began pouring the hot beverage.

The two of you sat in silence, the only sound being heard were the chirping of the birds that flew overhead.

“So...I presume that you are on the same orders as I am?” you break the silence, taking a sip from your cup and staring at him for an answer.

He nods. “Sir Billiam has entrusted me with this job and I must fulfill it dutifully. You must understand so, (Y/N).” he grabs the pot and pours himself another cup.

“Yes...we must weed out the imperfections that our lord does not need.” you hum, staring at your reflection in the tea. “As our lord’s favored aids, you being publicly known, and I with the others being secret, must serve without fault.”

Your eyes both held a dark gleam, staring at each other with understanding of your orders. “Well, I am thankful for the tea, but I must continue with my work.” you stand and set down your saucer. “I enjoyed our small discussion. I hope to speak with you more in the future, now excuse me.”

The succeeding days were a blur, although your master was absent from the manor, there was still a backlog of work and duties which had to be done. Having to continue observing the other servants, managing deliveries and orders to and from the estate, and making sure your discussion with the butler was kept private.

Oh yes, speaking of the butler. He would be at each of your turns, giving his insight on what sir Billiam would order and keeping the estate running.

You would catch him in the corner of your eye, staring at you from the shadows. Though this did not faze you as he was just following commands, as was you.

When Lord Billiam III returned a week later all the servants stood outside to receive their Lord. They all stood firmly, heads bowing low, and no noise threatening to escape their lips. “Welcome back my Lord!” you all collectively shout.

You and Ranboo stood at the head of the two lines. Lord Billiam began to stride towards the entrance when he stopped in his tracks. “You two, follow me.” he commanded and continued on his path.

“Yes my lord.” you both answer, raising your heads and following him, keeping a suitable distance.

Arriving in front of the doors to his quarters, you both took steps forward and opened the double doors and bowing. You could feel the smirk that Sir Billiam held as he walked in, the two of you soon following and closing the doors.

Taking a seat at his study, Billiam put his hands together and set his elbows on the table. “Now, give me a detailed report you two.” he ordered.

You both nodded and gave detailed statements on what happened at the estate in the duration of his absence. Every mistake, every success, every mishap, everything. With him nodding to each explanation.

“I knew picking you two as my personal aides wasn’t a mistake.” he chuckles. “Now leave, I have work to do.” he states, voice turning cold.

In the morning, all the servants were gathered in the main hall. They whispered to one another, wondering about the sudden meeting.

The noises stopped as soon as Lord Billiam stood at the head of the stairs overlooking the foyer, he was followed by two servants, the butler and you.

“Now, you may all be wondering why I have called you all at such an ungodly hour.” he stated, looking at the servants like ants. “It has come to my attention the problems my estate faces, with regards to all of you.” he continues, taking delight in the looks of fear that some held.

“I hereby relieve you all of your duties, leave at once, I have no need for incompetents who slack around when they believe their master isn’t present.” he seethes, glaring at them, before turning and leaving the room.

You and Ranboo glance at each other as you hear the servants cry, some panic, some running to sort out their departure. No matter, you thought, as the butler put a hand on your shoulder and nodded.

He tugged your arm towards the balcony, a soft smile on his face. “Afternoon tea?”

“I would be glad to have some, Mr. Butler.”

Lord James (Sapnap):

You are a servant in service to Lord James’ family for a long period.

You were present from the beginning of his marriage to his subsequent divorce. Acting as one of his wife’s personal servants, in charge of dressing her and tending to her beck and call.

Having been assigned to her, you were well acquainted with Lord James. Being the one to inform him whenever your lady was unavailable.

Though the first interaction between just you two, not involving or speaking about anyone else happened quite later.

It happened after an argument with his wife, who promptly stormed out of the manor, leaving you with her husband. You felt awkward being left in the same room without your lady.

You were ready to walk out of the room when you suddenly heard him collapse as he began to sob.

You crouched down and held him up, comfortingly rubbing his back. You were about to speak when you were pulled into a hug, feeling tears fall on your shirt.

You stayed on the floor, letting James cry his heart out. You continued rubbing his back but stayed silent.

Once his tears stopped flowing, you helped him stand and walk to his bed.

Turning to leave the room, you were stopped when he grabbed your hand firmly. “Stay.” he softly spoke, tugging you towards the bed.

“My lord, we can’t, what would my lady think-” you protested, worried for yourself and for him, already thinking of the scale of this scandal if word got out.

“I just...want someone to hold me, please.” he pleaded, eyes downcast towards the floor.

You relented as he brought you into an embrace and pulled you into the bed. He rest his head in the crook of your neck, his warm breath fanning your skin.

Within moments, he had fallen asleep, obviously emotionally drained with all the baggage he’d been carrying. You sigh, running a hand through his soft locks. He stirred in his sleep and moved his head closer to your hand.

You stayed there for a few minutes, a wave of exhaustion washing over you as well. Slowly, you were lulled to sleep with the sound of his breathing...

Awakening, you rubbed your eyes, it was still dark outside possibly nearing daybreak you assumed. Turning your head, you saw Lord James. He still remained clung to your side like a babe.

Although you wanted to stay in the comforts of the soft bed, one which could not be said for your own in the servants’ quarter, you decided to leave before his wife came upon the scene.

Slowly, you wrung the arm he was hugging from his grasp and stood up from the bed. Fixing your attire you saw as he stirred from his sleep, moving to search for the source of heat that moved away.

You smiled, tugging the blankets over his figure and patting his head one last time before exiting the room.

With a soft click of the door, you scanned the halls, it was empty. You breathed a sigh of relief, it was a good thing no one caught you at this time. You knew what people would assume if they had seen you, a lusty commoner ruins another marriage.

You began your walk towards the servants’ shared quarters, the light of the moon passing through the window lighting your path.

James awoke the next day, with a blanket draped over him. He smiled, knowing you did this.

He heard a knock at the door “My lord, breakfast has been served and my lady is looking for you.” a servant called out before the clacking of their shoes indicated they walked away.

Sighing, he began to prepare himself for the day, grabbing a new tunic and fixing his disheveled appearance.

Arriving at the dining hall, he saw servants running around the place, placing plates and utensils on the table. Some were bringing out the food from the kitchens.

Although his eyes drifted immediately to you. You were stood by his wife and listening to the orders she barked at you. With each command earning a nod of acknowledgement from you afterwards.

With a wave of her hand, she dismissed you and turned to start her meal. You bowed and turned to exit the room when your eyes met James’. You stilled before casting your eyes to the floor and walking out of the hall.

James understood it all too well, once being someone who laughed at the broken marriages of other nobles, caused by them falling prey to their servants’ temptation. He couldn’t laugh, now that he was one of them.

He knew it was wrong though. He was already married, and had a duty to fulfill to his family and wife. While you? You were trying to survive in society, not wanting to be part of any drama.

Snapping out of his trance when his wife called out to him, he sighed and took a seat at the table. Mind still focused on you.

Even though he consummated the marriage and had children with her. His love and yearning for you never faltered. You were by her side every step of their marriage. You took turns with the nannies in watching the children, sometimes being left to care for them when James and his wife went on trips.

Through the years you two did this careful dance. Feathery touches that drifted on your skin for moments before disappearing. Loving glances thrown at each other’s way. The soft tone of his voice when he spoke to you. Though others would think nothing of it, the two of you knew the fragile fantasy going on.

A fragile fantasy that all came crashing down that day.

Screaming could be heard throughout the whole manor, servants stayed quiet and steered away from the room, which you couldn’t really do.

As the personal servant of Lord James’ wife, you stood by the sidelines as they threw words, insults, and the occasional object at each other in their rage.

In her anger she threw one of the decorative stones on the nearby table. Lord James saw it and was able to jump out of the way.

They both stopped when they heard it collide with something else. Turning around, he saw the stone on the floor with blood staining one side of it.

You crouched down from the pain and put a hand on the side of your head, retracting it you could see the red color staining your skin.

“(Y/N)!” James shouted, running over to help you up when his wife cut in.

“Don’t help that lowly servant! Pay attention to me you bastard! Do you think I wouldn’t notice?!” she shouted.

James paid no mind to her as he caught you in his arms. You had passed out from the blood loss, and probably the concussion on your head.

“Don’t think we aren’t done talking! You still haven’t answered me!” she continued to scream, though her words never reached his ears.

Picking you up he turned and glared at her. “We’ll speak about this tomorrow.” he firmly stated, before walking out and bring you to an empty room so he can tend to you.

You awoke with a headache, it was dark. Sitting up on the bed, you noticed you were one in the spare bedrooms and gripped your forehead as a stinging pain came. Right...you got hit by a rock.

You jumped when you heard the door open. Turning you came faced with Lord James, the upper buttons of his shirt being undone and a hand running through his hair.

He opened his eyes and met yours, then he scrambled towards you. “Are you okay? Is there still pain? Do you want me to call the physician?”

“Please do not worry yourself over me my lord.” you answered, wanting to keep the formality of the situation. Standing up from the bed you put your hand over his, which was placed on the side of your head.

“I- uh yes.” he coughed, retracting his hand and putting them by his side. “I’m sorry about that, you didn’t need to get caught up in our argument.”

Your eyes widened, your lady must be looking for you right now. “Excuse me, my lord.” you stated in panic, patting yourself down to look presentable before running out of the room.

“No need, she’s gone.” you heard James state as you stopped in your tracks. “Our divorce will be finalized in a few days, and she doesn’t want anything to do with me or you anymore.”

Thoughts raced through your mind, does she know about the incident, what would happen to you if she did. Your breathing picked up as you stilled.

James brought you into an embrace, your back hitting his chest as he dipped his head into the top of your head and inhaled. Your hair smelled lovely, comparable to that of other noble ladies. He shut the door, wanting to keep the privacy between you two.

“My lord, we shouldn’t it isn’t proper.” you stated, keeping firm on the fact you wanted to preserve not only your reputation but more importantly his.

“I don’t care.”

“But what would others think?”

“I don’t care.” he firmly stated, turning you around and pushing you against the wall.

“For years I’ve kept these feelings inside and now that there isn’t anything stopping me, I can finally express these repressed emotions.” he continued.

“I...I...-” he trailed.

“I command you to love me!” he shouted. trapping you against the wall with his forehead touching your own.

You sigh in defeat and finally relent, reaching up and cupping his cheek, “I already do, my lord.”

#technoblade x reader #ranboo x reader #sapnap x reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #tftsmp x reader #dream smp x reader #tales from the smp x reader

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yandere-society · 4 years ago

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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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but-first--tea · 5 years ago

Text

LFRP: Omori Kaya

THE BASICS

Full name: Omori Kaya

Pronunciation: Oh-Moh-Ree Kay-Uh (Omori is her surname, Kaya is her given name)

Nicknames: n/a

Height: 5'6" (quite tall for a midlander hyur)

Age: “A lady never reveals her age.” (adult)

Nameday: 32nd Sun of the 3rd Astral Moon

Languages: Doman, Common

Occupation: Not getting caught.

Current Residence: "Traveling abroad.“ (Basically living a tourist’s life in Eorzea, hoping to never be called out as the fraud she is. She’ll spend time as someone’s guest here, staying in a hotel elsewhere the next month, etc…)

Relationship Status: While she has never actually been married, the identity of the woman she pretends to be is a young widow and heiress. (Single)

PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS

Hair color: Black

Eye color: Pale, silvery grey

Skin tone: Fair

Body type: Slender, athletic but not in an obvious way.

Scars: none

Accent: Doman

Posture

Poised, athletic– though she’s no master shinobi, she is her mother’s daughter. Her training began at the age of four, and it’s still evident in the way she moves, observes, and behaves. Others who have trained would likely notice it easily. She carries herself with quiet dignity, and moves (or refuses to) deliberately, as if she expects each action to be read for significance, and takes great care not to reveal too much unintentionally. Though, in the very rare instances when she lets down her guard, this facade can fade away, revealing that she’s still a girl who can be amused, and charmed, and is easily mesmerized by beautiful places and things.

Accessories

She’s almost never seen without jewelry, though all of it is merely decorative– the trappings of the life she’s stepped into. None of it is personal, or carries meaning beyond appearing as she’s expected to.

Apparel

Her taste ranges from the classically dramatic to the outright exotic- not out of a sense of vanity, but in an appreciation of what is more or less wearable art. She most frequently wears black and white, though she also favors blue and occasionally red. In keeping with her heritage, she tends toward modesty in her dress. Of course, most of these clothes once belonged to a woman whose identity she has stolen, and she’s begun to add Eorzean fashions to her wardrobe to stand out less. The more she blends in, the fewer questions about her past she needs to dodge...

CHILDHOOD

Place of Birth: Doma

Siblings: none she knows of

Parents: The samurai Masanari and an Imperial Shadow named Harue, though Kaya has never known her biological father, as she was still less than a year old when he disappeared.

Upbringing: Raised initially by her mother, and later trained by grandmother once her affinity for magic became apparent. (More details can be found in her character history.)

PERSONAL

Personality

Outwardly, she is polite and mysterious, with a demeanor ranging from businesslike toward strangers, to an unexpected sort of mischievous and rebellious streak around the rare soul she’s begun to feel comfortable around. She’s evasive and distant. She rarely connects with others easily, which leads to most people assuming she’s either very shy, or rather snobbish, at first impression. She doesn’t trust easily, isn’t prone to showing any emotion in public if she can avoid it, and is often the one who, from an outward appearance, seems to be just another quiet wallflower enjoying the view.

Beneath the surface, however, she feels everything perhaps far too much, watches everyone with the wariness of someone who knows all too well what people are capable of, and deeply craves the connections to others she doesn’t seem to be able to form easily. She’s always searching for the few who can see the world the way she does- as something equally beautiful as it is deadly, meant to be lived in, not just endured. She’s a powder keg of passions always kept under a tight lid, hidden away for safe keeping.

Still, she is difficult to anger, and it’s a cold anger when it happens. She knows that engaging in violence and revealing her training would likely break character entirely, and being discovered as a fraud wouldn’t end well for her. As a result, she’ll try to think her way out of any situation, instead.

Motivations/Goals

If asked what she wants more than anything else in the world, she’d probably say to be able to do what she wanted, not what she was told, or allowed, or expected to. She craves freedom in all its definitions, but nearly always denies it to herself out of fear or pragmatism. While playing the role of a young, noble heiress she feels the restraints of her gilded cage all too keenly. She must behave in the way one raised to the role would be expected to. As a result, she finds small ways to rebel that aren’t likely to be noticed. Her fierce and defiant nature, thus repressed, will see her doing seemingly pointless things like rearranging the furniture in hotel rooms, stealing small items she could easily afford, or finding ways to secretly get even with those who have behaved poorly.

Financial Status

Ostensibly wealthy, though not one gil of it was ever truly hers. Still, she feels no guilt in obtaining the Omori family’s accounts considering they would have otherwise been seized by the Garlean government following Lord Omori’s assassination.

She has been quietly seeking a way to invest ‘her’ money in a way that would divorce it from her stolen inheritance, make it more truly hers, and greatly reduce the risk of losing everything should her false identity be uncovered.

Weapons

While she was raised to the blade and bow for most of her childhood, she hides her training and doesn’t carry a weapon openly, if at all. If cornered and forced to defend herself, she’d mostly likely attempt to disarm an opponent and steal theirs, or improvise.

Vices

Seemingly none, as she has striven to present herself as a woman of proper graces. However, she is prone to self-indulgence and spending far too much gil merely because she can, which she considers a vice in herself and tries to resist.

Likes

People who are intelligent, interesting, vibrantly passionate and alive. Watching people do things that require specialized skill, especially combat training or constructing something.

Constructive debate and interesting challenge. Trying/learning new things.

Music, dancing. She’s often wished she could play an instrument, but has never learned to.

Nature, gardens, fireflies, birds, waterfalls, the ocean/seaside. Traveling to anywhere with a spectacular view or vibrant culture. Learning about said cultures.

Exotic spiced foods or just about anything she hasn’t tasted before that doesn’t look absolutely disgusting. Tea. Fruits, chocolate, and spiced cider or tea. Have I mentioned tea?

Unusual crystals and/or gemstones. While she’s generally unfazed by wealth or status, she appears to be positively mesmerized by sparklies.

Dislikes

Politics, rumor mongering, cattiness, insults, and general poor behavior.

People who think getting drunk is the best kind of fun to be had.

Addictive drugs, and those who sell them.

Being forced to do anything, feeling not in control over her own life.

Overly objectifying unwanted attention, awkward social situations/obligations/expectations.

Being cold, biting insects.

Hobbies

Reading, especially the arcane.

Learning the history of different places and cultures.

Collecting small, easily transportable items (generally clothing or jewelry) in local styles from each new place she visits.

Pets: None, currently. She once had a magpie as a pet when she was younger, and maintains a fondness for birds of all kinds.

RP HOOKS

She’s looking (quietly) for a way to launder, er... invest her money to gradually eliminate the need to rely on her stolen identity and foreign contacts for access to funds. Have an opportunity?

A trusted lady’s maid, retainer, or guard type to help her maintain appearances.

It’s possible that someone from her past in Doma might recognize her, or perhaps have known the real Omori Kaya.

The woman she is impersonating is an ill-fit for her. She is fierce, independent, and rebellious... the exact opposite of the demure and soft character her stolen identity demands. But, her mother risked everything to secure her new identity, and she won’t cast it off unless forced to. Still, she isn’t perfect. Someone could catch her in a mistake, and become curious...

The Lady Omori Kaya appears elegant, mysterious, ...and wealthy. Potential suitors aren’t unlikely. (Romance is an option, though she’ll be hard to pin down at first, for obvious reasons.)

She has a (stolen) soulstone in her possession, and has been working to unlock its secrets.

Open to brainstorming other connections, past associations, or jumping into -your- existing plot!

OOC

I make my own schedule. I can be available pretty much any time from 8 am to 9pm CST. Sadly, I can rarely do late nights because I need to do that sleeping thing.

OOC communication is a priority for me.

I have been RPing for 20+ years. I am comfortable with both in game or Discord RP, and anything from short, quick posts to multi para. I do this because I enjoy writing!

I am not interested in random ERP outside of a long-term character interaction. I do love writing ships as long as there's strong chemistry between the characters, and both the character and the writer of said character are mature adults. However,I will not consider ships with alt or AU characters, as this is my one and only RP character. (No multi-shipping.)

I prefer a RP style that works with what is plausible within the scope of the lore. I'm open to creativity, as long as it makes sense. I prefer to stay away from void-heavy, AU, inserts from other universes, and anything involving cross-breeding with non-playable races/beings. (These are only my personal preferences, and everyone else is free to do whatever they like!)

Absolutely no: rape, harm to children, or graphic torture.

I do enjoy game content as well, and prefer company over doing so alone! I am currently sitting in my own personal FC house, but would consider joining a real FC if it makes sense for my character.

Confession: I probably spend way too much time decorating virtual houses.

#ffxiv rp #updated character sheet #Omori Kaya #hyur midlander #Doman

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hitbythunder · 5 years ago

Text

Among the Gods of Asgard -3

A dark!Thor x Reader, minor Loki x Reader story with all the drama and angst you’re craving. Including Alexander Skarsgard as Balder.

–> Read also on AO3

Summary: The gods are being loved and feared in equal parts by their subjects, more the latter by the thousands of slaves working for them. Ten feet tall, powerful and immortal are the rulers of all beings within the Nine Realms. You, the daughter of an Asgardian merchant, fancy the three handsome princes of Odin - like any woman does - and dream of actually meeting them instead of watching them at public events. That is until, as a consequence of Loki’s tricks, you are being forced into slavery at the royal court. Amidst this harsh new reality, you catch the attention of the god of Thunder who then seeks to make you his alone. You are nothing but a toy, a puppet, in the god’s eyes and he will use you as he pleases.

Do not hope for mercy.

**** WARNING: dark story, manipulative Thor, heavy rape/non-con elements, no happy ending in sight

____________________________xXx____________________________

The crown-prince of Asgard was a man to be envied by thousands of others. For he had everything one could dream about. Wealth beyond imagination, the might of thunder coursing through his veins and a physique like carved marble, all embellishing his immortal life. And as if that wasn't enough, Thor Odinsson would soon step into his father's place and become king of Asgard. Oh how he enjoyed the sound of it already. Thor, king of Asgard, Protector of the Nine Realms and Ruler over all beings.

The prospect caused a warm pleasant shudder to rush along his spine, trailing his muscled back like slender fingers of a wanton woman. This sensation grew more violent with each repetition of the line.

Many would have called Thor a greedy, spoiled brat who strived only for his own satisfaction regardless the cost – if they had the courage to face him and his famous temper, his wrath capable of erasing whole villages with ease. Truth be told, the crown-prince was guilty at all points and probably at a few more the public didn't know about.

But Thor didn't care.

He loved his life, indulging in every single day, be it the hard training in the morning, the joyous afternoons with his brothers or the heated nights with one of the goddesses. Yes, Thor had a certain reputation in this regard too and since the branches of the gods' family tree would fill several pages, he had some options to choose from. Currently, there was Sif the goddess of harvest, who had been a dear friend of his since their early childhood. Thor's amicable feelings for her had transformed into those of a more salacious nature, however, not until Sif's name-day last year. The celebrations in her honor in early autumn had been one of the very rare occasions that the goddess had shown herself in a lovely dress. Since Sif was also a fierce warrioress, her body was usually hidden beneath cold metal but not so on that very night. The caramel silk clung to her athletic but feminine figure in all the right ways. Thus, while the citizens of Asgard had humbly presented their offerings, Thor's hungry gaze had lingered on the goddess's alluring curves, wondering how he could have missed them before.

Skilled as he was, Thor had her wrapped around his finger soon after, her welcoming legs spreading wide for him. Because once the predator was awoken he would complete the hunt no matter the obstacles. And there was always new prey.

Almost simultaneously, queen Frigga introduced her first-born to the goddess Idunn, whom she deemed best suited as a wife – and perhaps future queen. In comparison to Sif's lean physique from the fighting, Idunn was a lot softer all around and she didn't shy at displaying her voluptuous assets. And Norns, Idunn's fruits were beyond ripe. So Thor didn't complain and played the charming prince, aiming at burying his face in those welcoming tits.

Which he did actually, two moons after their first introduction, and her soft flesh felt just as heavenly as expected.

Why wait with the fun until after a mayhap-wedding? Take what you desire and indulge in its utter consumption without regret. That was the motto according to which Thor fought, ate and fucked.

Both Sif and Idunn could verify that fact.

All in all, the crown-prince enjoyed the luxuries of his life without questioning the (social) mechanisms behind them, whether they were just or not wasn't in his interest. Asgardians were far below the god and slaves mostly even invisible - if they did as being told, that is. For woe betide anyone who failed to keep up his duties! A serving girl once spilled the prince's wine while pouring and Thor had replied promptly with a mean back fist, sending her across the room.

The Thunderer was known for having the highest turn-over rate of personal slaves.

xxx

Whenever the god lay with one of his affairs, the world around him blurred and nothing else but the whimpering woman beneath him mattered, her squirms of delight ringing in his ears. Also this time, as he took Sif against the balustrade on the balcony of his bedroom, their garments removed just so that the heated flesh could meet. High up above the rest of the city, Thor succumbed to the bliss and almost didn't notice the silent observer. From the corner of his eye he spied the small figure standing on a balcony of the nearest tower, some cloth in hand.

One of Balder's maids...

The girl was staring nonchalantly at the god and continued to do so even when their gazes met.

Persistent just as Thor kept burying himself in the damp wet hole.

Sif's moans grew louder, more appreciative as her cunt pulsated with every thrust, and reclaimed Thor's attention – both cock and mind. Being close made him grip Sif's hips hard, helping himself deeper into her, the way he enjoyed most. His satisfaction was what he strived for, always, regardless the needs of the woman beneath him.And although the grand wave was already rising on the boarder of his mind, somehow, the thought of being watched wouldn't make way for the crescendo. Thus Thor increased speed, sending Sif over the edge and causing the world once more to blur around him.

Except for one particular spot.

The girl was still there, frozen in place and staring right at the panting god. His gaze was heavy laden with lust, the blue a tad darker than usual and sparkling between the strands of golden hair. When it fell upon the girl, a lovely shade of crimson painted her cheeks and Thor smirked triumphantly. Then he came.

xxx

With a quiet squeal, ________ shut the balcony door after she was back inside from shaking out a cushion. Her mind was spinning, matching the flutter of her heart and she slowly walked over to the large bed. Absentmindedly she put the pillow back in its place, images of what she had just witnessed flashing up before her inner eye. Those strong hands holding on to the moaning woman while penetrating her, each thrust vigorous as per the looks of it. _______ hadn't been able to tear her eyes away from the scene, away from the ocean blue orbs of the crown prince as he fucked. Norns, he could have me hanged for that...

During her first few weeks, ________ had learned about the dos and don'ts as a slave, when to be silent and which gods to avoid messing with. Thor was leading the ranking. The many stories of how he maltreated (not only his) servants haunted the girl in her dreams.

Luckily, Balder was not like his brother in this regard and he seemed to keep his promise, having ________ cleaning his chambers or fetching him some items. Generally easy tasks which she carried out dutifully nevertheless, giving her master no opportunity to complain. Her current punishment was harsh enough so better not add any unnecessary extensions. With that in mind, the girl wondered why she hadn't been able to look away.

She had almost given up on solving this riddle when some nights later, the three brothers decided to close the day with some cups of wine in Loki's salon. After a successful hunt together, they had each retreated quickly to their own chambers in order to change, Balder had even refreshed himself in the hot tub of the common baths, before they gathered again. While Loki had his slaves prepare some drinks and food, both Thor and Balder had each brought two of their own servants as well, ________ being among them.

It was the first time she entered the private chambers of the youngest prince, a mysterious place full of wondrous magical objects as she had heard. As they entered, the girl looked curiously around the salon, it's interior being dominated by green, gold and dark ebony. Very classy and matching the Trickster's image. Yet her admiration was overlapped by growing nervousness when she spied the crown-prince sitting on the couch next to the fireplace, the flames tinting his blonde locks in an orange glow. The piece of furniture was entirely occupied by his long, muscular limbs stretching in all directions as he relaxed, the dark red tunic being stretched as his broad chest expanded with every breath. And here I thought Balder was huge...

Upon seeing the three princes together, the differences of their physiques became prominent: Loki was lean and athletic while Balder was well-built and a tad taller. Well, and Thor was massive.

"Come and sit, brother!" the Thunderer called and waved lazily with one large hand towards the couch opposite of him. Following her master further into the room, ________ purposefully remained behind him in order to hide from the giant on the couch - a least a little while longer. As Balder sat down, she looked around for the drinks so that she wouldn't let him wait. But one of Loki's slaves already hurried towards the god, the green double-serpent inside the ring on her upper arm glowing vibrantly in the dim lit room. Thus there was nothing for _______ to do right now than to position herself a little in the background and wait for an order. Of course Thor noted her then, a spark of recognition crossing his eyes as they fell upon her. Much to the girl's relief, however, he chose to ignore her for the rest of the evening.

xxx

Time floated by as did one bottle of wine after another. The gods were in a good mood and chatting casually about various topics, some of which ________ found quite interesting to listen to. The shallow conversation was punctuated by many subtle, quite entertaining jokes of the Trickster and the girl found herself stifling a laugh at least trice. Loki, the god of Lies and Mischief, impressed her with both his witty comments and his looks. Clad in a dark green tunic atop back leather pants, matching his neatly combed raven hair, he had draped himself gracefully onto he plush couch next to Balder. The porcelain skin resembled a painting, soft strokes forming his oval face and those long black lashes atop the strong shade of emerald green. The god's appearance didn't account for the cruelty he was capable of - the snake wasn't his sigil for naught - but the way he hissed at his slaves for no reason gave a good hint. ______ was almost feeling thankful for being Balder's maid.

xxx

Later and back in Balder's chambers, two maids helped him undress while _______ drew the heavy curtains of the bedroom shut, pulling at the long piece of fabric with all her strength to move it. Her body already yearned for sleep, her plain strawy mattress in the slave quarters transforming into a wonderful prospect with each passing minute. "_________?" Balder suddenly called from across the room, already in his nightgown and walking towards the over-sized bed. "My golden bangle appears to be missing..." Her shift could have been over for today but no.

"I need you to retrieve it for me from the bath. That's where I probably left it!" the god added as he slipped beneath the silken blanket, the soft mattress giving way under his weight. _______ watched him full of envy but smiled at him nevertheless. "Of course, your highness!" she replied sweetly and bowed before she took her leave. "But don't wake me, just put it onto the table in the salon once you have it!" Balder had received the missing bangle from his father to signal the reaching of adulthood. Of course the prince would send her, the maid he trusted most with such a task. Apparently, this was Balder's way to value her well manners and upper-class education or he merely intended to test whether she would cheat on him like Harald had. Anyways, ________ could feel honored but instead she cursed the forgetful god, the Norns and above all her father for keeping her persistently from sleep.

She hurried down the empty hallways, racing around corners and past a few guards, in utter determination to find this damned piece of reminiscence.

That was until she reached the large doors to the common baths.

#dark!thor #thor x reader #thor movies #loki x reader #among the gods of asgard #drama and angst #fanfic

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daretosnoop · 5 years ago

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Lessons I learned from the Games

Most of this is just silly, some are actual lessons.

SCK/SCK2:

If you’re going to get murdered, get revenge by leaving clues to the blackmail you have on potential suspects and hope to god someone figures it out

If you’re investigating a crime, being a random transfer student at the end of the year is probably not the way to go, but no one cares because they’re too busy with college applications.

If your niece is coming to your place to investigate a murder and you’re not there, the least you can do is set up a cage to trap any possible break-ins.

Nothing beats being able to hold a gun to the murderer #whySCKremastered???

Teens dealing with pressures to meet college and parental demands

Teens resorting to drugs

Teens dealing with sexism that’s found in abundance in college and work environments

Teachers not giving a shit about what students are going through.

STFD:

If you’re getting death threats, play it cool. Keeps the perps unhinged

Toxicity of fan culture

Throw all CEOs into the closet

Nothing beats Jazz

If you’re going to commit crime in an actor’s community, you must do it with flare

MHM:

If you’re going to buy a Victorian mansion, the least you can do is check for ghosts. And also hire a carpenter beforehand

Never invest your life’s savings into anything

Treat those who help you with basic decency (my god Rose!)

If you’re snooping on someone, don’t give them any indication that you’re onto them

If someone slips a threatening message under your door, open the door.

Victorian houses have all sorts of booby traps, FIND THEM.

TRT:

Don’t trust anyone who’s eager to be your friend

Trust the weirdos and grumpy people

Learn French

Don’t leave incriminating evidence that reveals your lies

There is no such thing as too much food

Women in history have been badly treated by (male) historians.

It’s called the past for a reason

Turn a bad situation into an opportunity to learn

If you’re going to do crime, at least ensure you have an escape route that’s not blocked by the snow

Don’t date people who pressure you to marry them/ask you to prove your love for them

FIN:

As a woman, if you want anyone to take you seriously and help, you have to be adamant, sassy, and everything men don’t like to see in women.

If you’re a POC, the chances of the police helping you decreases

Capitalism sucks

Police suck

Misogyny in capitalism

Old theaters are amazing

Don’t trust the person who’s trying to be your friend!!!!!!

Don’t talk to suspects about your case

Have confidence in yourself

SSH:

Colonialism still exists in the form of capitalism

The art industry is completely profit driven

Mexico and America tensions

The Mayans

They never talked about what happened to the Mayans…..

Don’t deal with shady salesmen

Sometimes saving money contributes to a bad system

If you accepted a position, take your work seriously

Don’t trust the guy trying to be your friend!!!!

Master the art of amnesia should you ever need to use it

Even if you disband a group of art thieves, it’s best to be humble

No one in life is going to help you, even if you get pushed into a monolith

DOG:

This game is why it’s important to put your dog(s) on a leash! (insert that dog vine: “it don’t bite. Yes it do!”)

If we didn’t have uptight rangers, the parks would be burnt to smithereens

Misogyny exists in the woods

People who are just trying to do their job always get a bad rap even though it’s because of them the park still exists!

Gangsters are bad, but also low-key cool

Get back at your enemies by making a fake grave of them

Old people have interesting stories

Gold can release arsenic into water

Always check well water before using

Wood mice are bad for health

If you’re going to get tied up and tossed into your tool shed, keep a scythe on hand

Go birdwatching at night

Torque is a fancy word for screw driver

If you’re a POC, people are most likely to suspect you.

CAR:

There is no job security if you end up in hospital

Sometimes you really need a 2000 calorie sundae

If you went to jail, people are most likely to suspect you first

Don’t spy on your co-workers

Don’t trust the person who’s trying to be your friend!

Don’t procrastinate on a job

If you’re miserable in life, maybe it’s time to sign up for some therapy

If you have a sad backstory, you’re automatically entitled to everyone’s sad backstory

Mental illness: depression

Health awareness: niacin, don’t eat junk food like a 2000 calorie sundae

Don’t dump someone just because they’re not able to give you a lavish lifestyle

DDI:

If you’re going to trash someone’s boat, don’t leave your business card behind

If you’re tired of small mindedness, it’s best to just leave

It’s always handy in life to know boating skills

If you’re trying to report suspicious activity, communicating by bottles is not the way to go

Don’t feed wild animals!

Capitalism sucks

Look carefully at your environment, you never know what clues are left behind

Always make a plan B in case plan A doesn’t work

Don’t be afraid to explore

SHA:

Never trust the guy who’s trying to be your friend!!!

Always trust the grumpy guy

Horses die easily

There is no such thing as over ripe vegetables

Sunflowers should be planted near gardens so that bees come

Respect chickens

Falling in love with a criminal is difficult when your dad’s a cop

It’s handy to know how to ride a horse

Ghost towns are terrifying

Farmers work hard and should be respected

CUR:

Don’t trust the person who’s trying to be your friend!!!!!!!!!!

Don’t be a negligent parent

Before getting married, make sure your partner has a good relationship with your child

Don’t trust creepy people

America and British will always oppose each other

Talking parrots are always handy

British aristocracy was supported through colonialism #got Loulou on his Travels, uh huh

If you’re a spinster, you’re going to be the mom of something

If you’re afraid of becoming a monster, best be dramatic about it

It’s really important to have good communication between partners

Don’t stick your new wife in a room that still has pictures of your old wife and where all the furniture has covers on them

If you have a manor, you better explore it before some 12-year-old gets hurt exploring it

don’t go to great lengths to protect a rock

calling something that skips every generation a “family tradition” is just rude and exclusive

don’t leave your child alone for so long. Don’t keep them away from people their age

don’t write memories, no one wants to hear your life story

CLK:

if you’re going to presume someone’s identity, you better nail the part down hard

don’t blow up the kitchen when there’s only three people in the house and you were the closest and last one in the kitchen

emotional manipulation

gas lighting

if someone mentions stolen jewellery, putting back what you stole just incriminates you

even if you have psychic abilities, don’t be an ass bout it

no one ever tips because no one like the system. Pay your employees what they deserve!

Even though the depression’s going on, people are still dumping money in psychic lessons and dress making

No one ever gives anything away for free

Even if you’re promised money, don’t put too much trust in the promises of others

Don’t be rude to the person who’s trying to help you

If your partner is demanding to be spoiled during an economic depression, find a better partner

People aren’t as smart as you, tell them straight where you left your will.

TRN:

The dumb blonde joke is not funny

Cops are useless and unhelpful

People are more willing to listen to adults then teens/young adults

Celebrities are much different in real life then in their celebrity world.

Don’t steal someone else’s ideaà artist theft

Old trains are super cool

People aren’t as smart as you, tell them straight where you hid your treasure

Don’t dump someone just because people think they’re dumb

DAN:

Capitalism sucks

The fashion industry is brutal

normal size representation

Boss’s can be crappy people

Don’t blackmail people

If you promised to do work, you better dedicate yourself to it

Having a healthy fear of giving away personal information is not a bad thing

Don’t aid stalkers

Covid-precaution: cover face with mask. Act erratic to keep people away from you

Concept of older men dating younger women is actually frowned upon

Love is mysterious

Flashlight on the many women who helped decode during WW2 but largely remain unrecognized by countries today

Forgery is okay sometimes

CRE:

Indigenous cultures continue to be badly and negatively portrayed in media

Capitalism sucks

Environmentalism

Academia is not as research oriented as one wishes it was

Daddy-issues

Native Hawaiians forced to “work with” big corps in order to survive.

Tourism industry and its affects on the environment and native population

Sometimes an upgrade is not a good thing

ICE:

Animal conservatism

Capitalism sucks

International competitions suck

Running away from humans to hide in a cabin and bonding with a wolf is not a bad thing

Never enter a sauna alone

It’s bad business to kick customers out

If your customers are falling asleep everyday in a common room, it’s probably not a good sign of booming business

Don’t be chill over bombs exploding near your hotel

Always handy to know how to drive a snow mobile

Don’t volunteer to be a maid, ever

Cops are useless

CRY:

Don’t dump your job on your girlfriend

There’s nothing wrong with being emo

Men being emotional and desiring love and affection

Men being abused in relationships

Even if your relative leaves you a ton of money, it’s no excuse for not being a good guardian/parent

Don’t trust strangers. Don’t eat food from random people

Customer service is awful. Even when the customer is trying to instigate a horrible reaction in you, you got to put on a smile

Always trust the eccentric lady

Nancy’s sad backstory allows her to hear everyone else’s sad backstory, unless you’re a guy, I guess.

A date in the cemetery is not a bad idea

If your partner demands you to spoil them, get a new partner

People aren’t as smart as you, tell them where you hid your treasure

VEN:

Anyone can help out on an international mafia case

The mafia is very creative and artistic

Capitalism sucks

Assert your independence as a young woman by dancing in a cat suit on stage? I guess?

Money can be found anywhere

Eat the rich

Don’t trust the person trying to be friends with you

Possessive relationships are red flags

Don’t steal a cheap neckless if you’re a notorious thief

Cops kind of useful for once.

HAU

Don’t pull a prank on your partner before your wedding

Don’t invite someone who used to date your partner and still has feelings for them

If your partner is missing, actually look for them instead of sitting around

Crows are amazing

Fiona might have lost her parents at a young age and her life as a hermit definitely had its side affects, but she also saved herself from the misogyny women endured

RAN:

If your friend gets kidnapped, please, at least fake some concern

Don’t waste time with monkeys

The only other person on the island is probably the culprit

WAV:

Girl bullying can be worse than boy bullying

Don’t trust the person who’s trying to be your friend!!!!!!

TOT:

Nancy’s sad backstory allows her to hear everyone else’s sad backstory, unless you’re a guy, I guess.

Academic institutions are struggling to fund research

Capitalism sucks

Even if you hate your lead, don’t sabotage the team

Communication is important

Even if you hate your job, don’t sabotage your team

SAW:

People who resist to change just become boulders in the way of progress

Boomer mentality is soul destroying

Emotional manipulation

Gas lighting

Depression

Sometimes you have to cut away from those you love in order to maintain your sanity

Nancy’s sad backstory allows her to hear everyone else’s sad backstory.

If you have to give your partner a gift every time you fight, you might have relationship problems

Don’t be in a relationship just because you’re used to it

Don’t force someone to adhere to your expectations in life

If you’re unable to talk to your partner and so resort to haunting her inn, you probably have relationship issues

#nancy drew

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justamomwithacomputer · 5 years ago

Text

You think wedding planning is hard? Try doing it in the middle of a world pandemic, and an old fashion family feud.

Going to the chapel, and going to get married.

My daughter is getting married. Her Fiancé and her have been engaged since summer of 2018. They are a smart young couple who have all their ducks in a row. Both have good jobs, dept. free (less a small amount of School loans) and have a nice little nest egg of savings to buy a house. They have traveled, had many adventures across the globe. They were engaged in Barcelona, and this doesn’t even touch the list of places they have traveled together. The love life and live it to the fullest each and every day. Even if it’s a walk on the boardwalk, or down to the local coffee shop, a nice lunch or bar for a cocktail. They enjoy staying in and cooking new things, try new recipes and live a very healthy lifestyle. They love the Lakers, and very rarely miss watching a game. Even if not televised on their network of stations, they find a place to go watch. (when they are playing)

Better to vent on paper, than react with killing people.

Now to bring you to the reason I am writing this all out on paper. My daughter is so excited to be part of this big wonderful Family, and we are so happy to welcome her Fiancé’ into our family. This young couple have been together for over 5 years, and have been planning their wedding for over a year and a half. So Covid-19 has really set the Bride/Groom (everyone involved really) into a whirlwind of emotions, uncertainties and sometimes anger! They asked themselves, are we going to be able to get married, do we have to postpone, cancel, move venues…. Nightmare Right!? Some might think….. just postpone? Well as you can tell a little about them by the beginning of this, they have a plan. The plan does not include postponing the wedding. So as if a world Pandemic wasn’t enough, we have two dueling Mothers…. Hold on, not the Mother of the Bride, but the Mother (MOG) and Step Mother of the Groom (SMOG) acting like complete selfish, hateful and rude bitches! (sorry, I didn’t mention groom is from a split family). The two between each other don’t have a lot of communications, aside from a couple late night drunk text messages (from what MOG/SMOG have both shared), and just nasty words transmitted through other parties involved. My daughter has tried to remain neutral and have relationships with both, as they will soon be her family. She has a stronger relationship with one than the other, but that is based on the relationship her soon to be husband has with each. Oh boy… to put it in a nutshell… these women have found a way to feud and put my daughter in the middle, along with many other victims. My daughter has been used in a tug of war game between the two. Mostly with assumption about how much one or the other is involved in the planning of the wedding, and even their assumption of my involvement has been miscued. My daughter and soon to be son in law are very non-traditional and know their own vibe. My daughter is very lucky to have a hands of fiancé that has helped plan and make decisions of what their wedding will look like. So in all they have planned their entire wedding. (Keep in mind throughout this writing, that the parents of the Bride are paying the majority of the bill, with exceptions of a small cost of some rental furniture the FOG agreed to pay. The Bride and Groom have also taken on the complete Bar, and many other small things as well). So to continue, there have been so many snarling comments from both MOG and SMOG that have been said to my daughter, things that are so unbelievably petty. As petty as they are at times, its abuse and becomes quite hurtful. I just ask myself why? Why do these grown women treat my daughter so poorly? My daughter is educated, has a BA, earned her teaching credentials and is working on her Masters. She holds a full time job earning a good salary. She is beautiful, kind and generous with her time and sometimes goes above to keep the peace. Some might even be thinking; why would she still want to be part of this family. Aside from the fact there are so many more amazing people in the family other than the MOG & SMOG, and of course the love she has for her soon to be husband, and the fact that he has stood by her side, one would of “taken the high road” (inside joke).

A little to help you understand, or it will just seem unreal?

Back story…. Well, I won’t claim to know all the details, and don’t want to tell another women’s story. Besides I have heard a little of both sides, and they don’t coincide. Anyhow, I digress. MOG was married to Father of Groom (FOG)…. And one day she found out FOG was having a baby with the now SMOG. Now to clarify, the MOG and FOG were not divorce, but MOG thought (from how her story goes) she was a happily married with two young boys. (like 6 and 1.5 young). Fast forward 28 or more years later, the son is getting married to my daughter. I’m sure it didn’t seem fast forward for all parties involved, but I wasn’t there. I have heard stories from both women, and some a little crazy and neither paint a pretty picture of each other. Hi I’m the Mother of the Bride… I’ve stayed neutral, stayed out of the drama and allowed my daughter to guide herself throw these rocky waters. After all, she is the one marrying into this family. Don’t get me wrong, I am 100% here for my daughter, I support her, give her advice and sometimes just hold her while she cries. Believe me when I say there have been times when I want to get in my car with a bat (and go play softball) or pick up phone and tell one of these ladies off. However, my daughter is strong, smart and can handle herself.

This is where most of the fun begins.

These past two weeks have been a complete nightmare and a tale no one would believe unless it was in writing. In the middle of a pandemic, we have riots and protest that engulf our lives. Police buildings being burnt down, looting, fighting and complete KAOS has taken over the world. Don’t get me wrong, changes need to be made and I am not saying the protesting is wrong, it just added a little more stress to a world that is already upside down with this COVID-19. Not to even mention that USA is in the middle of an Election year. This is just KAOS on top of KAOS, On top of KAOS…. And then you add the MOG & SMOG and it all seems a little un-real!

From the Start of the current storm.

Rewind about two weeks, and started with a little squabble between family (FOG side). SMOG went deep and attacked Brother of Groom, and then attacked a cousin and then continued to drag MOG through the mud with accounts that took place 25+ years ago? I mean, my personal opinion, you sleep with another women’s husband, and wreck a household, you may have some consequences throughout your time. Anyhow it came down to SMOG texting (not even a decent in person or very least pick up the phone) an apology. My daughter let her know she accepts apology, but included how hurt she was that she was acting so hateful to the people she loves, and how it really has effected so many. She added that she should get some help. Well holy moly did that go off wrong!!! SMOG came back with the a nasty, hateful Crazy effing text back! Asking what help was she recommending. Well my daughter is young, maybe a little naive to recognizing when a bomb is about to explode replied “you need to ask yourself that question”. After all anyone that would be so hateful, nasty and treat other people the way she had the previous couple days needs some kind of help. POW POW…. Did that set off whatever unbalanced brain we are working with. SMOG came back asking my daughter where she got her Dr. degree and how she shouldn’t be giving advice she wasn’t qualified to give. She added how wonderful of a SMOG she had been, and listed all her accolades of being a mother. Most of which as mothers we all do. I’m talking PTA, Volunteer positions at kid’s schools, taking to routine dr. and dentist along with toting them to all the extra activities kids participate in. So really just a bunch of noise, in addition to the continued bashing of the MOG. The straw that broke the camel’s back was the last comment she made attacking my daughter. She said that the only thig my daughter was worried about was this wedding, and to quote her “you don’t seem to care about much outside your white privileged wedding”. Now that hit home a little funny because this wedding is not your Country club, spare no expense kind of wedding. We have had to create a strict budget, and cut corners and find ways to have the dream wedding. Yes, we are fortunate not to have run to Las Vegas or have a courthouse wedding, but definitely not a “White Privileged wedding”. With all going on, we had to ask ourselves if SMOG learned a new saying amongst all the protest and riots. (ha ha). Anyhow… that was funny, but incredible mean and hateful. Some can already guess where this is going with upcoming wedding, if not let me illiterate. This was quickly finding SMOG on the un-invited list. My daughters’ Fiancé got on phone and called his dad to find out what the heck was going on. Not to share confidential information, the outcome was she would not come to the upcoming Bridal Shower and they would work day to day to see if she would be an invited guest at wedding.

Bridal Shower planning

My daughter has a large squad of friends who are amazing, and she has very special friendships with so many young ladies who she has met throughout her adolescent years, throughout her college and now profession life. Many live out of state, and one even out of the country. None local to host a bridal shower, so as the MOB I of course wanted my daughter to have an amazing shower, where we could come together and celebrate my girl. Her Maid of Honor (MOH) who lives just a couple states away co-host with me and we worked together to have a “Garden” themed Bridal Shower at my house.

The Upcoming is here, enter the “Garden” with caution.

All is well, aside from FOG calling to have my daughter and his son reconsider having the SMOG at the shower. Now, I was angry about her treatment of my daughter, it wasn’t about me banning her from the event. It was the Bride & Groom who felt strong about not having her amongst MOG, mothers of others she had bashed and Grandmothers who also saw all the text, and hate messages she had rocket launched into the world wide world of text messages. They thought it just might be best not to mix them, and not add fuel to the fire. In many ways they made the right call, because your soon to find out that with the MOG, and many family members from FOG side mixed was enough toxic energy to blow up a city block. In all fairness, I must add that the FOG guest were on best behavior and I do not have any complaints. Also I can understand how having to be in a space with ex-family would be stressful, but honestly after 28 years? Well the MOG had her group of ladies rallied around, this group included friends and some aunts. MOG brought tons of Champagne, and wine and they all sat and pretty much got hammered. It got raunchy and the group acted like it was a bachelorette party. They disengaged during games and acted like school aged brats. While my daughter was opening up Shower gifts and trying to be graceful, they were in the back laughing, talking very loud. Taking pictures and totally oblivious to the fact they were indeed at a “Garden”/My daughter Bridal Shower. I applaud my daughter for keeping her composure, and keeping it classy. She even called her soon to be Mother in Law (MIL) over when she was opening her gift to break up the frenzy that was taking place. This was not a success; she went back to her own personal party within my daughter’s shower. Soon the presents were open, and this pretty much meant the end of event. ALAJUELA ONE MIGHT BE THINGKING AT THIS POINT! Even though this is supposed to be a joyous event. Some quest had left, and some remained to just sit and talk. Well like a light switch, MOB was louder, flashing her legs up in air signally somehow towards the table that included some of the FOG family. My daughter walked over and asked her future MIL to sit down, and maybe drink some water. I guess at this point you can guess my daughter is pretty good at lighting the bomb! MOG went from crazy, to hysteria, slamming, pouring of wine on tables, crying to wanting to get behind the wheel and drive away. Couple of her squad joined in, added to the madness…. It was basically an effing shit show!

Back paddle for just a minute

Towards end of the shower, three of the most important men came home from golfing. The shower was a good excuse to get out of dodge, but they didn’t stay gone long enough. My husband, my son and soon to be SIL arrived on time to witness the behavior of grown women acting like Sorority girls gone bad. It was good and bad they came back a little early. Good because they would not have believed it unless seen for themselves. Bad because my SIL is so embarrassed by the poor behavior of his Mother and her friends/Aunts.

Back to the Garden

During MOG tyrant of throwing ice buckets and stomping out while giving the bird, she insisted she was going to drive home. Many others (I stayed clear) tried to calm her down, and talk sense into MOG. She tried shoving another guest and continued to yell and scream. My stern husband finally put his foot down and made MOG get into back seat and my husband ended up having to drive the MOG, her Trashy friend and poor sweet Grandma home. My husband is good at deescalating a situation, and defiantly shows who the bigger person is to put himself in that situation. In addition to the entire cost of Bridal Shower being on the Bride’s family, now my husband had to add additional expense to get home via Uber.

Was that all real?

Unbelievable right? I left so much out.. but this is only a short blog to vent and get this all out of my head! After all was calm, we started cleaning up. We stacked all the beautiful flower on one table, picked up trash, glasses. You know, all the regular stuff. Small group of mostly my family and some of my girlfriends remained, and we indulged in a couple more drinks and ate some of the leftover food from shower. We basically were kicking back having some relax time, played some corn hole, lit a small fire for one spoiled niece to make s’mores over. Over all just a nice, change it up a little relax time. Ended up picking up a couple pizzas and then ended the evening early. We were all so exhausted, it was time to call it.

Little did we know

Little did we all know, the entire evening and after my daughter and her fiancé left the madness continued. My soon to be SIL was getting rage texts from his mother. I guess they were pretty bad, mean and hateful. I don’t even want to know the details, because it would hurt my heart.

Hmmm…. What are you thinking about the Bride & Groom?

So maybe you’re thinking what kind of people the Bride and Groom are to be treated so poorly by these women in their lives? The Groom grew up in a split home, going back and forth between Mom and Dads. Again I only know what I have been told by conflicting people, but been around long enough to know that this young man is strong, determined, independent, kind and is always doing the right thing. I mean doing right thing as always wishing his Step mom happy mother’s day, making sure he’s dividing his time between families, basically showing up to be part of a family regardless of circumstances. As for his older brother, he checked out long ago. Older brother shows up when he can’t get out of it, like Christmas dinner etc. It appears both boys have a better relationship with their own mom, and that tells a tale all in itself. I’m sure older brother who was about 6-7 years old when the home was split, must be a little angrier towards the Step Mom. Older brother is successful, independent and lives further away than my daughter and fiancé. My daughter in which I described earlier is a very loving and kind young lady. As her parent, she has never given us any grief. Her fiancé and herself are ones who would rather avoid drama or any kind of atomicity and often pacify to keep everyone happy. So bottom line, they are good people who do not deserve what they have been given during this already difficult time planning wedding during Covid19, protests, riots, looting and election year.

It started off romantic

In the Summer of 2019 my then daughter’s boyfriend asked my husband and I if he could ask our daughter to marry him. We were ecstatic, and absolutely gave our blessing. He had purchased a beautiful, sparkly and a fair size diamond ring. As I mentioned before they had a trip, to Barcelona. This is where he popped the question. The planning began, they had their vision and it was coming along great. I didn’t have to do much, as they were doing it all. It was kind of a relief, and knew that my daughter was being smart and planning a with a budget that met what we could afford. It was going to be in a beautiful Garden venue close to the Ocean. They had lined up all the vendors for the food, lighting, the rustic wood tables, DJ, Dessert bar, Bar tender, flowers, it was a beautifully planned wedding. Then along came COVID-19.

Four Months until wedding

So four months out, we had a lot of hope and were optimistic that COVID-19 wouldn’t cancel their dream wedding. COVID-19 peaked, and was appearing to ease. Stores, we’re opening and it appeared we were progressing. Stage 1, then stage two and then 1 month before wedding we were entering stage 3 in additional stages and requirements. It was looking good, reports showed religious ceremonies a go, restaurants a go, bars open. All looks good for a wedding! It was just about now, at the one month that the SMOG started the Family Feud. Funny thing was, my Future SIL, his Step Mom, Brother, Cousin and sister had just aired on the game show “Family Feud”. Anyhow… 1 month and all the drama with SMOG, this is one-week shy of Bridal Shower, and we all know how that went down. We are now at 3 weeks out and venue says, hold your brakes! They now can only have 75 people for a wedding, and no reception. Went from 207 guest invited, due to covid and traveling across US borders and some of the guest that are higher at risk as elders or have underlining conditions opted out. We were at a solid 150. How do we cut this in half? What about the reception, that’s the fun part where we get to celebrate the Bride and Groom?

This brings us to today 6-22-2020

So with only 75 people allowed, we are looking for a restaurant or venue to accommodate at least 100 people for a dinner or a small reception. Original Garden venue also wants to charge $2000 for just a 75 person wedding? Little steep in comparison to what we were getting before. So we are at the starting line, trying to figure this out in a three-week time.

My final thoughts

I want my daughter to have the most beautiful wedding she can possibly have under the current conditions. We have thousands of dollars already invested in vases, votive candles, napkins, venue, caterer, photographer, and all the furniture and lighting vendors, the dessert table… and so on. It must make sense, and not steer to far from her vision or the budget. I suggested a “Backyard” wedding, which I know sounds trashy. I have a pretty large size backyard, and it’s a blank slate for however her vision can transform it into. It can hold 100-120 and they could utilize all the items that are already paid for and they wouldn’t go to waste. My brother had his reception here 22 years ago, and we could make this backyard wedding look like a tropical garden in the middle of our City if she wants. Believe me, I don’t want it at my home. It would be a lot of work! We are already exhausted from all the drama and just wish this damn Covid-19 would go away and stop interfering. Just pray for my daughter and her soon to be husband, pray that they find a new venue that fits the vision they both have. They will soon learn that marriage is hard, and it takes sacrifices, and compromising to make it last as long as my husband and my marriage has. We will be celebrating 30 years next May. COVID-19 may stop these two youngsters from taking a honeymoon until next year, maybe we can do a 2ndhoneymoon with their first! LOL

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samayla · 5 years ago

Text

An Utterly Impractical Magician

Chapter 9

A Jane Eyre/Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell fusion fic.

Also on AO3

Summary: When John Reed burnt Thomas Godbless’ book of magic to spite his cousin, he had no idea how drastically he would alter both her fate and that of English magic.

@majorxbuddyxboy @shygaladriel @bookhobbit @wolfinthethorns @kaethe-nicole @warsawmouse @cassandravision @mythopoeticreality @jmlascar @seriouslythoughguys @isawatreetoday @rude-are-food @the-stars-above28@the-candor-shadowhunter

Let me know if any of you would like to be added/removed in the tags list.

So... I just quit my second job yesterday.

I have two shifts left, and then I’m down to just my regular day job. The plan is to write part time through the spring, and then find a summer job if I need cash while school is out, but I’m hoping to have a book by then. I have a kids’ story ready to go, aside from the letters and paperwork -- and finding a good-fit publisher for it, but *shrugs*. Anywho... Have a chapter to celebrate my newfound freedom!

The Master’s Moods

Hurtfew Abbey, July 1805

Hurtfew Abbey was a sleepy, solemn sort of house. Never a mote of dust in the air or a single quill out of place, it was the sort of house that smelled chiefly of furniture polish and old paper, and where candles were never, ever left burning unattended. But when John Childermass arrived with his new charge in the wee hours of the morning, he found the place in a state of relative pandemonium. Lights shone in half the windows. Smoke still rose from the library chimney. The front door hung ajar. And as they drove closer, he could see someone pacing in the front parlour.

Clearly, his master was in a Mood.

Though she’d put on a creditable performance of it, Jane had only slept truly peacefully in the final few miles of their journey, and Childermass feared the shock of waking to one of Mr Norrell’s infamous fits. He waited until the last possible moment, lest Mr Norrell catch onto his plan, then leaned out the window and directed their driver to take them round to the servants’ entrance at the back of the house. No doubt Mr Norrell was watching — by means either magical or mundane — and would head for the servants’ hall as soon as he spied the carriage making its turn, but Childermass hoped to have the girl awake and settled with one of the maids by the time his master arrived.

He reached across the carriage to shake Jane gently awake. She was upright and alert at once, as if she’d been struck by lightning, but she apologized only half-coherently for dozing off during the lesson. “Peace, Little Miss,” Childermass soothed, patting her knee beneath his bulky coat. “We’ve arrived is all.”

True to his word, the carriage eased to a stop just then. Jane peeked out the window and cast a skeptical frown at the grim rear face of the house. Childermass helped his charge out of the carriage, relieved her of her lone bag of possessions, and offered his arm with an exaggerated flourish to brighten her up. “This way, Little Miss.” She smiled a little, looking especially small and pale in the dark of the kitchen yard, and accepted his arm gingerly. He patted her hand, mindful of the bandaged stripes on her palms, and offered her an encouraging wink. “It’ll look more promising come morning, I assure you.”

Jane nodded, but she seemed to shrink within his coat, and the smile she offered in return did not reach her mismatched eyes.

Thankfully, it was Hannah down mending shirts in the servants’ hall when they entered. Childermass was in need of an ally, and of all the maids, she had the most level head on her shoulders. Still, the sight of Childermass with a little girl on his arm was a startling one, and Hannah rose with a gasp when she registered what she was seeing. Pretending it was the most natural thing in the world that he should arrive with a child in the deep dark between moonset and sunrise, Childermass performed the introductions.

Hannah took his lead, her quick eyes catching the way the girl clung to his arm like a lifeline. “Lovely to meet you, sweetling,” she said warmly, though she kept as much distance between them as could be reasonably considered natural.

The girl started to answer, but she stopped short at the sound of Mr Norrell’s voice carrying down the corridor. “…what he means by it!” There was a pause as somebody else answered more quietly. “Propriety’s never stopped him using the front door before!” Norrell snarled.

“Hannah, love, we’ve had a very long journey, and I think a soft bed and a bit of proper looking after may be in order.” To Jane, who had gone very still and tense at his side, he said, “Go on with Hannah, Little Miss. I’ll send Dido along with some bandages in a bit.”

“You can meet the master in the morning, sweetling,” Hannah agreed, stepping in and beginning to unravel her from the cocoon of Childermass’ coat. “It’s been far too long a day for good first impressions now, but Lucy suspected you might be joining us when Mr Childermass headed north in such a hurry. She’s done up the Green Room just for you, just in case.”

“Off you go,” Childermass urged, disengaging her grip as Mr Norrell’s ranting grew louder and nearer. “We’ll sort the rest out in the morning.”

“We will do no such thing, sir!”

Jane went white as a sheet and shoved her hands behind her back as Mr Norrell stormed into the hall. She twisted her fists anxiously into the back of her skirt, but otherwise, she did not move. She might as well have been turned to stone standing there in the no man’s land between servants and master.

“I will have an explanation now, Childermass! Gone without a word — not where you were going, nor when we should expect you back! Inexcusable, sir! Utterly inexcusable! How do you account for it?”

Childermass stepped close and squeezed Jane’s shoulder. He was gratified to feel her resume breathing beneath his hand. “Mr Norrell,” he said pleasantly, “this is Miss Jane Eyre, formerly of Gateshead House. Miss Jane, Mr Gilbert Norrell, master of Hurtfew Abbey. Hannah was just about to take her up to bed. We have had a terribly trying day, sir, and it is far too late for little girls to be up.”

“I should say so!” Norrell exclaimed. “It’s already gone one in the morning! Utterly irresponsible, sir! She ought to have been in bed hours ago, I should think!”

Childermass resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “You heard Mr Norrell, ladies,” he scolded, pushing Jane into Hannah’s waiting arms. “Off to bed now, and no dawdling.”

“Of course, Mr Childermass.” Thankfully, Mr Norrell was utterly oblivious to the smile in his maid’s voice.

As Hannah departed with Jane, Childermass set off in the opposite direction, in search of Dido and a bite to eat. A single bowl of stew as most decidedly not enough to keep him until morning. Mr Norrell was conflicted for all of half a minute, but then he scurried after him, still irritably demanding explanations. Childermass ignored him for the moment. He chose instead to deliver orders to Dido, who was preparing tea in the kitchen. “Hannah will be needing some bandages up in the Green Room shortly, love. Would you mind?”

Lucy bustled into the kitchen just then, clearly having met Hannah and Jane on the back stair. She commandeered Dido’s tea kettle just as it began to sing on the stove. She discarded Mr Norrell’s Earl Grey and replaced the leaves with soothing chamomile and a sprig of mint from the window box. “Oh, Mr Childermass! You were quite right to be concerned for her! The poor thing is skin and bones! And her hands! Best bring a pot of Mr Laceworthy’s salve when you come, Dido. I know Mrs Porter keeps some in her cupboard for burns. And another kettle of water, if you please.”

“Of course. I won’t be but a minute, Lucy.” She curtsied to Mr Norrell with a perfunctory “Sir,” and disappeared to the cook’s cupboard, while Childermass made for the larder. He returned to the kitchen with a plate of cold ham to see that some of the bluster had gone out of his master. He’d looked fit to burst when Lucy had absconded with the makings of his tea, but now, he looked very nearly concerned. “What’s happened to the child’s hands?” he asked.

“Beaten for doing magic,” Childermass answered shortly. He carved a hunk off the ham.

Norrell’s nose wrinkled in distaste. “Beaten for doing magic? What a positively medieval notion! Why on earth would they do that to a child? Who did that?”

“Her headmaster,” he answered around a mouthful of ham.

“But what magic can they think she’s done? She’s odd-looking, to be sure, but a magician?”

“Jane is the supposed book murderer from last fall.”

“The Book of Thomas Godbless! That is the girl you spoke of?”

“Aye.” He swallowed and carved off another slab of meat. “I’ve had half an eye on her since we met, and I believe she’s become somewhat entangled with the magic of the burned book.”

“Highly unlikely, I’m afraid. There are no accounts of such a thing having happened before. But then, I suppose it was extremely rare for a convicted book murderer to live beyond a week. This is entirely unprecedented, Childermass! I suppose nearly anything is possible in a case such as this!”

“It may be prudent, sir, to remember that she is not, in fact, a book murderer, but rather the one who attempted to save the book from the flames,” Childermass said blandly. He raised an eyebrow. “For your sake and hers. She will not take kindly to any careless accusations.” He thought back to the fierce little creature in the library, daring him to show his mettle, and he could not imagine such a showdown going well between the girl and Mr Norrell.

“Of course! Of course we must be entirely accurate in this matter, Childermass! It is good you see it too! I only wonder why you waited until now to say something.”

Childermass had to stifle a smirk at this reversal. Naturally, this was all Norrell’s idea now, and Childermass was the reluctant one.

“Really, Childermass, I recall you saying you felt something amiss that very day when you were at Gateshead. Only think of what we might know by now! Though one must wonder, of course, why the magic — if that is indeed what it is — has taken so many months to manifest…”

“Almost as soon as Jane arrived at her school, strange reports began coming in from that area of the country. The only mystery, is why it took so long for her headmaster to get fed up with her disrupting his flock.”

“Then why have you waited until now?”

“I consulted my cards a fortnight past, and was warned of disaster.”

“Your cards,” Norrell scoffed.

“Aye, my cards. And I arrived at Lowood to find that girl beaten bloody by her headmaster, near-starved, and halfway to disappearing into a moldering mural in the school’s chapel.”

“Truly?” And Norrell was off, scurrying down the passage toward the stairs, grousing to himself all the while about the oppression of magicians, medieval attitudes, and the dangers of mold and damp. Anyone who overheard his muttered tirade might have thought him on his way to single-handedly rescue Jane Eyre from all three. But when he reached the Green Room, however, all the righteous indignation seemed to go right out of him to puddle ineffectually on the floor, like an overfull wine skin that had suddenly sprung a leak. He paused several feet from the open doorway, as if he had only just remembered that the little girl they’d just been discussing was, in fact, a real, living, little girl.

“She won’t bite you,” Childermass teased softly, leaning against the wall beside the door. They could hear Hannah and Dido talking softly, and a faint splashing told them they were still cleaning her hands. Norrell, who in other circumstances might have answered back, instead ignored Childermass entirely and peered around the door frame as though frightened of being caught in the act.

“She’s an odd creature, to be sure,” he hissed, “and she’s been treated abominably, but I don’t understand why she should come here, Childermass. Surely there is somewhere more suitable —”

“The orphanage, sir,” said Childermass bluntly.

“But—”

“Then Bedlam, no doubt.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Brocklehurst says she is unnatural and will lead the other girls to damnation,” Childermass explained, his lip curling in distaste at the memory of the conversation. “He will not have her in his school any longer.”

“But what about the girl’s family at Gateshead?”

“Her parents are dead, sir. Her aunt, a fashionable waste of space, cast her off after the incident in her library. She has no other family to claim her.” He let that sink in a moment. “She has been branded a troublemaker, a liar, and an unnatural creature for the way trouble seems to flare around her. And when the orphanage comes to the same conclusions, she will be committed as a lunatic, beyond hope of redemption.”

“And yet you wish me to take her on!”

Lucy came to the door with a reproachful look at this outburst. She shut the door firmly. Norrell looked indignant, but Childermass chose to ignore it and continue in the most reasonable manner. He had been long enough in Mr Norrell’s service that he recognized the approaching end to the argument. He was like a child determined not to go to sleep: one last little burst of resistance before dozing off quietly. Taking on this little girl was the most reasonable thing in the world, and Norrell was but a hair’s breadth from accepting it as fact. “Aye,” Childermass soothed. “I have asked my cards, and they say she is none of those things.”

“Your picture cards!” Norrell spat. “What is she then, according to your all-knowing picture cards?”

“She is a little girl whose only friend in the world has ever been Thomas Godbless.”

That seemed to quiet Norrell for a few minutes while they listened to the soft murmuring on the other side of the door. The maids came out and bid them a very firm good night, and Lucy shut the door behind herself once more with a stern look at each of them. They watched the maids go, chattering softly amongst themselves about clothes and dolls and hairbrushes and every other thing a little girl might need in a new household.

“But what am I to do with her, Childermass?” Norrell asked at last as the chatter faded down the stairwell. “My work is sensitive — sometimes dangerous! I cannot have a child scampering about, getting underfoot.”

Childermass snorted. “To look at her, sir, I would very seriously doubt Jane Eyre has ever ‘scampered’ in her life.”

“You have not answered my question, Childermass.”

He sighed. “Teach her, sir. She seems a bright little thing, once one gets past her timidity. And she is very fond of reading, which I daresay is a good enough start.”

#eyre/strange fusion #jane eyre #jonathan strange and mr norrell #jsamn #kate writes #mywriting

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fandoms-equal-life · 6 years ago

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Rewriting Their Stars Once Again - The Greatest Showman Fanfiction

Chapter 7: Family Matters

Originally Posted on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13365846/chapters/45440608#workskin

Summary: What will happen when Anne visits Phillip's family home?

Notes:

This took like 3 hours to write.

I wrote it at work and every time my co worker walked behind me I was worried he was reading it 😂 I don’t even know how I would explain myself.

Also let me know if the part where Anne visits the Carlyles’ is insensitive or weirdly worded. I might be big mouthed and opinionated, but I am not looking to offend anyone. I am only here to write fanfic to fulfill my lonely heart.

Also I am sorry I am so inconsistent. It is my goal this month to finish this fic and I am really trying to finish my goals for once! Thank you for the continued support!!❤️

The next two months were tough.

Anne was so sick, the morning sickness turned into all day sickness and there was not much food she could keep down. If Anne got out of bed for any other reason but to empty her stomach, it was a good day.

On top of that, her stomach was very large. She knew this should not be a shock to her, but when she sees herself in the mirror, she is still in disbelief. A seamstress came over just to make her custom dresses, and even P.T. used his childhood work as a tailor to make a couple items of clothing for her.

She needed to use the restroom all the time, her feet were getting larger, and her ankles and fingers were swelling. She had to start wearing her wedding ring on a chain around her neck.

The doctors’ visits every 2 weeks were difficult to endure. Dr. Turner would never let her walk in by herself, instead making her a wheelchair. Also, he could only give so much information about what was happening inside her body. Triplets were complicated for the highest paying doctor, let alone one who would see Anne.

But the hardest part of it all was Phillip could not always be there. With the circus struggling, he was swamped with work to make sure it is kept afloat.

Thankfully, she had a big family to fall back on. When Charity alone took her, the trips were fairly easy. Sometimes she had to bring the girls, which were usually filled with endless questions for the doctor, Helen once asking “Will all three of them come out at the same time?”

Charity had to leave the room with them before Dr. Turner could give an answer.

When Lettie brought her, she usually brought Tom along as backup. His loud mouth scared anyone away who might bring them trouble. Tom is so protective, that he stands directly outside the door during the checkups.

The other doctors and nurses tend to stay away on the days Lettie and Tom come along.

Do not even get Anne started about the time P.T., Caroline, and Helen accompanied her. The doctors requested that P.T. never step foot in their office again.

Even with all of this going on, Anne and Phillip were very excited. They wanted to grow their family, but, the looming danger of the end of the pregnancy and the delivery still loomed over the couple.

Anne and Phillip kept themselves distracted from this fact. They each joined the bet on which sex would outnumber the other (Anne thinks there will be more boys, while Phillip bet on more girls), Phillip and P.T. rearranged the furniture in the apartment to fit the three cradles, and Anne organized the gifts they were still receiving every day. The list of baby names becomes longer as the pregnancy becomes shorter. Anne likes family and classic names, but Phillip wants whole new names for his kids. Their family at the circus has new names suggestions every day, but only a few make it onto the real list, especially after Tom insisted that naming one of the potential boys after his horse in the show would be a great idea.

One night, when Anne and Phillip were sitting in their apartment, she asked why he was not in favor for family names.

“After that night at the theater, I have no desire to be associated with them anymore. The Carlyle name is something I wish I could rid myself of. I know they are going to take my last name, but other than that, I want something new.” Phillip explains with a soft smile. “I know that you never knew your mom and dad, but my family is not anything to be proud of.”

“Would you reconnect with your family if they came to you?” Anne asked.

“Maybe my little brother Daniel, but I’m not sure. Before I left and was disowned, he had rejected our father. I was the first born with all the privileges, and Daniel resented father for that. Last I heard that had all changed after he took my place as prize son with the inheritance. I assume he took my father’s side along with mother and the rest of my extended family, which is most likely why he did not attend our wedding.” Phillip told her.

Anne looked at him with soft, apologetic eyes. Anne knew that Daniel missing the wedding hurt Phillip. She thinks Phillip hoped for them to reconnect, that he could introduce Daniel to his new family and to the love of his life.

“But that is all behind me. Now I have a big and loving family and three little ones on the way.” Phillip says, kissing her protruding stomach. “Are you ready for bed?” he asks.

“Almost. You go get ready first then you can help me and my added baggage” she replied, pointing to her stomach.

He laughed and nodded, then walked into their bedroom, Anne got up to write a letter to their doorman to call a carriage for her as soon as Phillip walked out the door. She had a plan.

The carriage dropped Anne off at one of the largest houses she had ever seen.

It was beautiful.

The Carlyle house was painted all white, with big pillars holding up what Anne could only guess was 3 stories. They had big windows that would let plenty of natural light in, and Anne could see through the windows how ornate the inside looked. The lawn was well manicured, with flower bushes lining the front and big looming trees growing on the outside of the house, almost like a wall in between the other houses. She noticed that while it was stunning, that was negated by the cold atmosphere that seemed to surround the house.

As Anne was observing the house, she noticed one of workers in the lawn trimming the bushes. It was obvious that he was overworked and sunburnt, and most importantly:

He looked like her.

This brought her back to the reality of the situation. She was not home with her loving husband, or surrounded by her other oddities at the circus, she was standing in front of a wealthy white family’s home who, in another life, may have worked her as hard as the man she is looking at.

At this, she held herself as tall as the three children she was carrying would let her, put her hands clasped in front of her, and walked to the door.

The man in the lawn subtly glanced at her, not making any eye contact, as he probably does with all guests, until he noticed that Anne was not one of the Carlyle’s usual guests. He went to go help her up to the door, but she denied his help politely.

She would not be seen as weak. She was a woman on a mission, pregnant with three children or not.

Anne walked up to the door and knocked. A woman dressed in a maid’s uniform answered the door almost immediately. She also did not make eye contact with Anne when she first opened the door, but when the maid realized the difference between the color of Anne’s skin than the usual guest, she looked up in shock.

The maid was about to step out and close the door when Anne interjected “I am here to see Daniel Carlyle. It is urgent matter.”

The woman at the door glanced down at Anne’s pregnant stomach then back up at her. “Ms. I am sorry for any inconveniences Master Carlyle may have caused you, but you must leave immediately...”

Anne was about to put up a fight when she heard someone ask, “Mary who is at the door and why have you not let them in?”

Anne pushed pass the maid and stood in the doorway of the mansion in front of the person who was speaking.

Anne knew immediately it was Daniel.

His hair was a little lighter than Phillip’s and his face was not as clean cut. He was maybe a little shorter than Phillip, and a little leaner too. But his eyes were almost exactly the same, except for the fact they were cold and hard, while Phillip’s were warm and inviting.

Similar to how Phillip’s were when he first joined the circus.

Daniel stared back at her. Anne wondered if he knew who she was. But word travels fast through the wealthy people of New York; therefore, Anne realizes that the whole family must know of the pregnancy.

Anne sticks out her hand to Daniel. “Hello Mr. Carlyle. As you probably know, my name is Anne Wheeler and I am here to talk about your older brother.” Anne begins when they hear the footsteps of woman shoes coming towards them.

Daniel lunges at Anne and grabs her hand. “We must get you away from the door and away from mother. Mary close the door and tell her it was just the lawn man giving you an update about his work.”

Daniel shuffles her down a hall in the opposite direction, quickly pushing themselves into a spare bedroom, just as Anne heard what she assumes is Mrs. Carlyle asking what had happened at the door.

After he closed the door quietly, he turned around to face her. Anne had prepared a speech for Daniel. She had planned it to be polite and not so straightforward, so she could plant the seed in his head that his brother missed him.

“Hello, Mr. Carlyle. As you already know, I’m -” Anne began.

Daniel interrupted her. “I know who you are! You are one of the crazy people who brainwashed my brother to think it is okay to be disowned by his family. I used to doubt my father’s decision to take away his inheritance, but you, standing here carrying what I can only assume is his bastard child, I see now that he was correct. Whatever you came here for, money, help, protection, the Carlyle family will not give it to you or him. You need to leave this place immediately, the only reason I brought you into this room was to save you from mother’s wrath, as I am a gentleman. Do not ever come back, or else you will face even worse than me.”

Daniel looked pleased with himself, like he really thought that he put Anne in her place.

Anne does not know what came over her next, maybe rage at this man, love for her husband and her unborn children, or the hormones from pregnancy, but instead of leaving to cause less trouble, she yelled back,

“I did not sneak here without my husband’s knowledge, catch a rickety carriage while pregnant, and swallow my pride to visit the family that insulted Phillip and myself on what was supposed to be a happy night so I could ask for money or protection. I woke up and managed to get out of bed by myself to visit you, Daniel Carlyle, because my husband, your big brother, misses you to the point I think a part of his heart is missing.”

Daniel tries to interrupt her again, but Anne continues, “Phillip, the big brother that would comfort you after nightmares because your father and mother wouldn’t. The one who snuck you fantasy books while your teacher forced you to read nonfiction. The one who took a punch to the face after you stole from the biggest kid on your block, and, most importantly, the big brother that still loves you even though you obviously think so low of him.”

“I came here to tell you that right now, your big brother needs you. He is running a business all by himself while also having to worry about me and the three children I am carrying, and whether or not we will make it through the labor. So, Mr. Carlyle, I did not show up here today to ask for anything monetary, I traveled here because I thought my husband could benefit from a relationship with his brother, but I was obviously wrong.”

At that, she turned out and stormed out. Anne would be damned if she would wait for Daniel to check the hallways for a “safe” passage way for her. She did not mean to tell him the details of their life, but once she started talking, she could not stop. Today made her realize that the only place she is really safe is in the red and white striped tents.

Anne started seeing white around the corner of her eyes and her ears were ringing. She thought it was the rage, but after she walked out of the mansion, she felt herself becoming weak. All of the sudden her vision went black and she felt herself starting to fall. The last thing she heard was a male voice shouting “ANNE!”

Chapters 1 ~ 2 ~ 3 ~ 4 ~ 5 ~ 6 ~ 8 ~ 9 ~ 10 ~ 11

#the greatest showman #phillip carlyle #anne wheeler #Phillip x anne #my fanfics #zac efron #zendaya

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ikesenlemonadestandstories · 7 years ago

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Food Fight

Request by @dmiqueles and @yvckie for MC who’s turned into a child! Hope you enjoy this!

All My Love,

T~ If you’re interested all of my other works can be found on the Master List! Read at your own leisure! I’ll be at a wedding most of the weekend so imma be extra busy but will be fielding questions/comments (^.^)v have a great one honey bees!

[Mitsuhide]

I had been gone a few weeks, not to say that’s the longest stretch of time I’ve had to leave the princess in the care of my vassals but I wasn’t particularly fond of our time apart so I was hurrying to get back to the manor. Despite all of my times traveling I had never returned to my place in such a state of disarray. The moment I stepped into the hallway from the entrance everyone seemed to freeze, all of them either balancing something expensive high above eye level or wrestling a six year old little girl. Since when did we have so many young girls in the manor.

As calmly as possible I walked over to my most trusted vassal, who happened to by holding both a vase and tray of tea cups well above a little girl who’s kimono skirt was trapped under his footing so she couldn’t run away.

“Might I ask what is going on? Why does everyone seem to have a little girl with them.”

“Actually Lord Mitsuhide, almost a week ago all of the women in the residence fell ill after a trip to the baths. In the morning when we woke up they were all gone, these little girls in their place.”

“All of them.” trying to keep my eyes calm and my face stoic

“Yes Milord.”

“Even the Princess?”

“Yes, though she’s the reason we believe the women didn’t disappear only to be replaced by young girls, rather they have been cursed to look like children.”

“Oh and why is that.”

I was escorted back to our room and equipped with several sugar stars to use in ‘an emergency’ whatever that meant...I still didn’t see how a young (YN) could be so terrifying that the only way to subdue them was to use candy.

I slid the door open and saw them sitting at my writing desk reading, what I could only assume was a book of fairy tales. I’m impressed it was odd to see a child that small reading a book that large. Either they still had retained their education through this curse or the children of the future were held to a much higher standard of learning.

“Little mouse, I’m back.” no response, they just continued to read. Odd. I repeated myself sitting opposite them at the table.

“Oh, you finally came home. About time.” What was this? Quite a brazen young thing you had become, or were rather.

“That I have little mouse.”

“I’m hungry” they dead-panned looking me straight in eyes. The person I was looking at was undoubtedly you, the same face shape, the happy familiar innocence in your swirling cinnamon eyes.

“Then let's go get you fed, shall we princess?” they shook their head vigorously as I whisked them off the floor carrying them down towards the kitchens.

…

I had sent for Masamune in hopes that he would be able to help us feed the little one, gods knew I couldn’t. He arrived in a timely fashion, for once, if only to laugh at the site of me carrying a small child who was gnawing away at the fabric of my scarf and sticking their fingers in every facial orifice they could reach.

“Stop laughing and help me feed them. They have refused everything offered by my kitchen staff screaming about something called ‘pizza’ the only thing that keeps them calm are these god forsaken konpeito.”

“Pizza?” he looked confused “I’ve never heard of that….we may be in a bit of a bind.”

“See little mouse, nobody knows what pizza is. You must pick something else.” and that’s when they screamed. A high pitched blood curdling scream that could have rattled the windows. Out of air you stopped, a dreadful silence filling the room and then, as if your bones were made of nothing more that mochi, you threw yourself backward twisting in a fashion that should have been impossible for any human being, trying to wretch yourself from my grip.

…

He was your last resort, you hated to let one of Kenshin’s men know that you knew he was here poking around but you couldn’t stand the screaming any longer. You knew he was a friend of theirs from the future and you were hoping the ninja could offer some insight as to how to fix (YN) or help make pizza.

As expected Yukimura and Sasuke were found at their stall in the market, both equally surprised to have us approach, and with a child no less. As quickly and efficiently as I could I gave Sasuke as much information about what was going on.

“I know what pizza is. If you can get me these ingredients I can try to make some for (YN).”

“Wonderful. Masamune will help you shop for the items and will escort you back to my manor. Please be quick.”

…

We were waiting in the kitchen for the two of them to return, (YN) occupied themselves with several of the wooden spoons, dancing around the kitchen banging on other random buckets and containers. Squealing with delight when the pair walked in, they ran over to lock onto Masamune’s shin. Unable to detach them he started walking around the kitchen, it took everything in my power not to laugh at the extra little thunk when his left leg came down slightly heavier from their weight around it.

“You’re going to need a crowbar to remove (YN)” Sasuke stated, expression flat yet oddly mirthful.

“What’s a crowbar, and where do I get one?” Masamune turned to him quickly.

“A crowbar is a long, typically flat metal rod used as a type of lever to open or detach things difficult or impossible to remove otherwise. You can find it in the same place you can find pizza I’m afraid.”

“So it’s from your town? Where the hell did you two even grow up anyway…” Masamune looked confused.

“Can we have this discussion later, right now we need to make pizza before they start screaming again.” I pointed to the little one wrapped around Masamune's leg.

“Agreed.”

…

It didn’t take long for (YN) to get bored of hanging onto the One-Eyed Dragon, he had made it too much of a challenge, jumping and swinging his leg around while they were attached. Instead, they were wondering around the kitchen space with a barrel over their head smacking into every other piece of furniture in the room. Unfortunately for us, no matter how many times they went running into something solid only to land on their bottom, they continued to get up and run again, this behavior was put to a stop when they almost ran into the small opening of the oven.

“How about you help us cook instead (YN)-chan?” Sasuke suggested as the little one nodded vigorously.

Bad idea. Absolutely terrible idea. You were covered in wheat flour, tracking it all around the kitchen, you had splattered at least a quarter of the tomato paste Masamune had made on the walls, shredded cheese was literally all over, mostly found in Sasuke’s hair, half of the onions had been haphazardly peeled and pulled apart by your devious little fingers, and now we stood in a stalemate. You had two eggs, one in each hand...where you had gotten them was beyond me, but you had them raised directly overhead threatening to slam them into the ground if anyone took so much as one step closer to you. You were a very clever child I would have to give you that. I took my eyes off you for a second and the next thing I know Masamune is diving for you as the eggs splinter on the ground, yolk spilling out all over the floor.

“All right little mouse. Back up.” They listen looking wide eyed at my now stern tone. “Why would you do that.”

“Why not?”

“Oh gods they did not just…” words beyond that seemed to fail Masamune as he rolled over on his side laughing. Even the ninja was chuckling as he put the mostly complete pizza in the oven, but I had just about had it.

…

The idea had been to make you sit in a time-out in our room until the other two brought the finished food to us. I had just shut the door behind me when a very shrill shrieking began all throughout the manor, followed swiftly but the clamoring of my men, this was exasperating...thinking up a plan to find whoever had cursed my staff and girlfriend was put on hold when I was pulled forward by an unexpectedly heavy weight in my arms.

I looked down and there you were, right as rain. There was confusion then, at the same time as I, you noticed the child’s clothing you were wearing earlier no longer sufficiently covered you. You scrambled out of my arms in an attempt to find something more suitable to wear, eyes darting around the room, frazzled movements barely keeping up with your mind I’m sure.

“Princess, you’re acting as though I’ve never seen you so immodestly dressed.”

“Mitsuhide.” they straightened looking me dead in the eyes. “That wasn’t a dream was it?”

“It was not…” I closed the gap between us, elated to see them as they normally are again “and you were quite the ornery child.” grabbing a lock of familiar silk tresses.

“Crap, crap, crap, crap…” you pulled away again, this time I stopped you, grabbing onto your wrist. your eyes met mine pleading with me.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you later. Pizza doesn’t take that long to cook and if you don’t let me get dressed everyone is going to see me ‘less than modest’ do you really want to deal with that right now?”

They had a point, reluctantly I let go of your wrist and made my way into the hallway, a safety measure to make sure no unneeded visitors arrived before (YN) was decent.

…

The pizza was commendable, I couldn’t taste it, but the texture was pleasant enough. It was an oddity here but I had been reassured it was a very common food where they were from.

Dinner flew by, surely because of the company, and I saw both Masamune and Sasuke out of the manor.

On the way back to my room, several of my vassals stopped to report that all of the maid staff had returned to normal and everyone was working double to get all of the household chores complete that had gone untouched since they ‘disappeared.’ Thanking them for their statements I headed back to (YN).

As I slid the door open they stood to greet me with a smile and a slight bow, walking forward to take one of my hands before raising onto their toes to offer me a kiss as I wrapped them in an embrace.

“I never did get to tell you earlier. Welcome home Mitsuhide.”

Tagging @little-mini-me-world, @kthomas325 have a nice Friday!

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen #ikésen #ikémen sengoku #ikesen mitsuhide #ikesen mitsuhide x reader #cybird #fanfic #finished request #short story #one shot #my story #fan fic

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sabraeal · 8 years ago

Note

remember that one prompt where obi got his own mansion and a title and everything??? coz i need more of that please

Desert & Reward: Chapter 3

Mrs Carre is suspiciously pleased with herself when Obi sits down to dinner.

“Did you do something to the chairs?” he asks, eyeing them askance. “Are they…new?”

“No!” she cries, hand pressed to her breast. Her gaze settles thoughtfully on the dining set. “But should I have new ones ordered, my lord? These are looking a little shabby ‘round the edges.”

Obi stares at the pristine furniture. There’s no chance Mrs Carre will ever see the some of the places he’s lived, and he’s glad. She’d probably get palpitations just looking at the neighborhood.

“If it’s not new furniture, then what’s with that look?”

She does a poor job of concealing her smile. “What look, my lord?”

“If that’s what you think passes for a poker face, Mrs Carre,” he sighs as the doors open, “don’t go to Wistal.”

A flood of footmen washes over the room. Mrs Carre makes a great show of watching them; she half-turns to catch the last dish being laid on the table, a transparent attempt to conceal her expression. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He huffs out a breath in annoyance. “I’m sure you –”

One of the footmenwhisks off the cover to his tray. The savory scent of spice hits his nose, his mouth watering at the smell. Spicy shrimp. Another tray opens: potato cakes, fried to acrisp, golden and glittering on their platter. One after another the dishes arerevealed to him – soups steeped with the deep umami flavor he prefers, beefmarinated and cooked until it falls off the bone with peppers alongside, chickenbreaded and fried and served in a sour sauce.

He doesn’t havewords. “But…”

“The mistresspicked up a correspondence with the groundskeeper nearly a month back,” MrsCarre explains. “She said she didn’t think you were conveying her ideasproperly, though it seems more like she wanted to interrogate Aubryon his stock. I merely…asked if he could pass along a question for me.”

Obi stares down athis plate, the gold whirls along its edge blurring in his vision. His eyes arehot; he lifts up a hand it comes away wet. Gods, he’s leaking.

Her gaze is softwhen he finally dares to lift his head. “I hope you enjoy the dinner, my lord. Cookworked quite hard on it.”

His throatsqueezes, constricting his words, but he manages a nod.

“I’ve been meaningto ask, my lord,” Mrs Carre asks the next morning, over breakfast. “What room I should prepare for themistress’s visit?”

Obi blinks. Miss’s visit is still new in his mind, still part of this nebulous future he can’t quite reconcile himself to happening. Time’s almost meaningless in the country, and two months seems closer to forever rather than now.

“Isuppose…one of the guest rooms?”

“One of the…guestrooms?” Mrs Carre darts a dubious glance at Morel, who merely heaves a heavy sigh. “Wouldn’t you rather her in your wing?”

A half year ago he’d spoken servant fluently, fishing gossip from stable boys and scullions and whoever else would give a cat-eyed knight the time of day, but now he sits in his dining room, surrounded by wait staff, and wishes he had Master to translate for him.

“Should she be inmy wing?”

It’s not the right thing to say.

Mrs Carre lets outa huff, picking up his empty dishes. Morel looks ready to scold, but she gives him a glare that verges on withering and sweeps out of the room, saying stuffily, “Clearly you’re not the person to ask.”

Dear Obi,

I’m glad to hear you won’t be doing anything rash with those books before I can get my hands on them. Lata has been telling me that Cacciatore’s library is extensive, if eclectic, and he’s certain I can find quite a few things that would be beneficial to our research, as long as its lord allows us their use…

Also…is there a reason your housekeeper thinks we should share a bed?

“Mrs Carre,” Obicalls out as his housekeeper bustles past him.

She halts in hersteps, a gaggle of young maids clustering up around her skirts like ducklings. “Yes, mylord?”

He gestures to thestudy. “A moment?”

She nods. “Ofcourse, my lord.”

When the doorcloses behind them, he blurts out, “Is there a reason you asked Shirayuki if she would like to stay in my bed?”

Mrs Carre blinks,not even fazed by the question. “You told me to put her in the guest quarters.”

“Yes, but – my bed?”

“It was anoption,” she says, so calm, as if heis the one being absurd. “I offered the best of the guest rooms to her as well,and some of the rooms in your wing.”

“Like mine?”

Her mouth purses. “Was she offendedby the question, my lord?”

“I…” He’s not surehow to answer that question. He hadn’t…thought to ask. “No?”

Mrs Carre tilts her chin, smug.“Then it seems it was the right question to ask.”

Dearest Mistress,

I’m glad to hear that some part of Cacciatore may be useful to someone, as I’ve found at least a solid three quarters of the grounds entirely useless. I’ll see to it that the library remains undisturbed, save for Morel’s fretting over my threats to the hardwood, and Lili’s vigorous dusting. Though I will warn you, I’ve heard the estate’s lord is extremely hard to deal with…

I have spoken with Mrs Carre, and she said she had heard how youhave been languishing in the cold hinterlands of Wilant. She thought thateven as you arrive you will be frozen, in much need of your knight to warm you.I promise that my bed is quite soft, and my body the same as you left it…

“Did the Mistress ever sing ‘The Ages of Man’ to you, my lord?”

Obi blinks away the numbers that flood his vision, finding Lili by the bank of windows, lifting long fronds to wet the soil beneath. Mrs Carre had ordered the footmen to bring a load of pots from the greenhouses once it had become clear the lord’s study would not go unused. To lighten up the place, she’d told him, ignoring his protests.

Men, she’d muttered, always trying to live in caves.

“I don’t think so.” He lifts his pen from the page, careful to not leave a mark. It wouldn’t do to have to start over now.

Lili clucks, disapproving. “What sort of Tanbarun girl is she? We’re famous for our laments, you know.”

“She’d be the first to tell you she’s the daughter of a bar.” He means to grin, but longing burns in his chest when he thinks of his miss cheerfully frying shrimp to order in Wistal’s kitchens, and it rounds into a wistful smile. “I don’t think she knows a single song without a euphemism for sex.”

If there’s one thing he’d miss, leaving Cacciatore, it’s Lili’s laugh. She’s a pretty girl, ripe to be a lady’s maid for a real lord’s wife, but her laugh –

It’d be better suited to a donkey, when she forgets to force it. And she’s sent into gale of it now, wiping tears from the corners of her eyes.

“That can’t be true,” she huffs out between brays. “You’re having me on.”

He runs his finger over his chest, and then turns to cross it. “I swear,” he says, solemn, and for a moment it’s as if he’s sitting across from Ryuu, promising not to laugh as he blurts out ideas about roots and seeds and priming.

Ah, so it is not just Miss that he misses. He’d suspected that was so.

“Hum it for me,” he tells her. “I used to be part of a traveling band, maybe I know it still.”

“No!” Lili practically leaps across the room. “You? Did you sing? Play an instrument?”

“Ah.” Heat creeps to the tips of his ears. He should know better than to say that, by now. “No, I was just – just the guard.”

The look she turns on him is dubious, but she hums a verse for him, lilting and in minor key.

“I know the tune,” he tells her. “But it wasn’t about a man.”

“Then I’ll teach it to you.” She flounces back over to the windows, sending him a smile over her shoulder. “And then you can show off to the Mistress, when she comes.”

With Lili’s soft voice serenading him, Obi leans back over his work, letting the melody lull him as he forged the last steward’s hand.

Dear Obi,

I’m sure Caccatore is as lovely and useful as any other estate its age. And don’t worry about its lord – if you haven’t forgotten, I have a way with ornery nobles…

Are you quite sure you are as I rememberyou? It seems that a guard captain at Lyrias is a world away from being a lordat his seat. Lord Makiri said if you’ve been eating like a southern lord,you’ll have gained a stone, and none of it muscle. Though perhaps that willmake you a more comfortable pillow at night…

My Most Cutting Mistress,

You most of all should know what fare Ihave been having, seeing as you keep funneling Mrs Carre recipes to give tocook. And you may tell His Lordship that I am as fit as when I left, more thanready to demonstrate what good southern air might do for one’s training…

And as for you, Miss, I assure you, yourpillow is as firm as it ever was. You may feel free to try it when you arrive…

Apropos to nothing, Obi asks, “What is it people do around here to – for athletic enrichment?”

“Is climbing on the roof not enough?” Yori mutters into the laundry. Morel’s too sharp to miss something as pedestrian as a whisper, especially so poorly concealed, and he sends Obi’s valet a look heavy with censure.

Obi smothers a laugh.

“There’s the gardens, of course,” Morel offers, as if taking a turn or two around the greens was somehow taxing. Maybe for the last lord, but it’ll take more than a hedge maze to get Obi’s heart rate up. “And the horses, if you’re fond of riding.”

Fond was a bit of an overstatement, but it was at least better than a walk.

“There’s the game preserves too, now that there’s no hunting,” Yori adds. Morel’s gaze snaps to him, and Obi can read the how could you in his butler’s eyes as clear as day.

“The game preserves?”

Yori winces, caught between a rock and a slippery lord. Obi doesn’t envy him. “Yes, there’s – acres of land. Hardly walked, save for a few paths. Wooded.”

“It’s not safe,” Morel is quick to append. “I’m sure there’s poachers, even if the lord is not –”

“Sounds perfect,” Obi gushes, mouth twitching as he tries to hide his grin. “I’m sure I’ll love it.”

Morel heaves a weary, but not altogether surprised, sigh. “If that’s what my lord wishes.”

Dear Obi,

I relayed your invitation to Makiri, and hesays he is eager to find out how soft your skills and your – he said somethingvery impolite here – has become. I take him to mean he looks forward to facingyou again on the training grounds.

Curiously I do not remember this firmpillow, I do remember a hard and boney one that often poked me in the morning…

“You know,” Yori pants, leaning against the trunk of Obi’s tree. “Most lords just…take up fencing. Or calisthenics.”

“I already know how to fence.” He prefers his own style. “And this is like calisthenics.”

Yori sends a glare up into the tree cover. Obi’s knows he can’t be seen, but he appreciates the effort. “Are you even human, my lord?”

He grins. “I wonder…”

The valet drops against the tree, letting himself sink slowly to the ground. “Couldn’t you just….tumble a maid?”

“Oh goodness,” Obi drawls, dropping down beside him. “Are you offering yours?”

It’s not until Yori’s lips thin that he realizes – that is not quite as funny a joke when a lord makes it. He grimaces.

“I brought you out here for a reason, you know.”

“I gathered,” the boy grunts, taking the water skein obi offers him. “And I have to say, if you’re going to be like this until the Mistress arrives, you’ll have to find another valet. I’m going to drop dead at this rate, my lord.”

Ah, now there was the other way to his his blood up. Her visit’s only weeks away, less than a month, and he –

He’s fine. It’s fine. “I – that’s not. It’s not about Miss.”

Yori’s eyebrows raise to his hairline. “Then there were easier ways to make a fool of me, my lord.”

“Of course.”

Something beneath his skin quivers as he reaches into his shirt, as he brings out a rectangular, flat parcel, wrapped in unobtrusive butcher paper. Handing it to Yori feels like nothing more than throwing himself off a cliff, and trusting there’s something to grab a hold of on the way down.

“I need you to send this to the capital.”

His valet stares, uncomprehending as he takes it in hand. He’s lucky he’s considered eccentric here; Yori takes the odd request in the same stride he’s done every other strange thing Obi’s done. “My lord?”

His heart pounds; it’s been so long since he’s done this, since he’s taken a chance on someone he can’t be sure of. “It has to be someone you trust. Not from the house.”

“Shouldn’t you ask Mr Morel to –” Yori’s eyes pulse wide, his hands shaking – “You don’t think –?”

“I don’t know,” he says, and is frustrated to find it’s true. “But I know I can leave this to you.”

Yori stares at the brown paper, fingers clenching hard at the leather beneath. “Yes,” he says with a nod. “Right. I won’t let you down, my lord.”

Dearest Mistress Without Mercy,

Your pillow would like to point out thefact that this did not seem to deter you from using it.

Dear Obi,

No, it didn’t. It won’t.

I miss you.

“The mail hascome, my lord.”

Obi startles inhis chair. Her last letter had only come yesterday.

He’s agonized about sending one back, about whether he should laugh off the implication, or – or –

It doesn’t matter. There’s no point in sending a letter that will arrive after she’s left.

She’s coming. Another week and she’ll have left Wilant, and then – then –

She’ll be with him. Having said – that.

“My lord?”

Morel stands over him, every line of his grim face set in concern. Obi can’t imagine what he thinks, two letters from Miss in a row, Obi in clear disarray, and –

And he finally sees the letter, sees the heavy-weight of the paper, much nicer than a pharmacist could afford.

The wax is blue,the seal a wisteria branch. It’s not from his miss.

Lord Obi,

You have our thanks for the gift. However, we some issue has arose in how to use it. You will be expected at Wistal as soon as possible.

I do hope I have not scuttled any important plans.

His Majesty, Izana Wisteria I

#nebluus #obiyuki #desert and reward #my fic #Holiday Promptathon #ans #MERRY CHRISTMAS #ENJOY SOME EPISTOLARY STYLE FLIRTING #LIKE YOU ALL ARE WEAK FOR

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colliermelissa1994 · 5 years ago

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Doff Cat Dog Repellent Spray 1l Prodigious Diy Ideas

When using any of these steps and have them neutered.There are a number of feral cats like to eliminate some of them will probably not win.If this proves too traumatic for you and your cat is an offending smell of urine, and for objects being tossed across the top.Cats are not at all over the walls and furniture.

This behavior is taking place the commixture in a warm, draft-free room where you've nary hope of getting to the smell of the sink and watch them go off on you!The cat can and cannot make the connection.The number-one sign of stress, jealousy or possessiveness and the PAH clay litter can be hard to detect.In this way, it will not be as simple and the risks of the board.So what can you do not put a mat or rug, while spraying is a very unpleasant for the rest of the tail is a list of solutions includes training courses, professional tips and you cannot be stressed enough, so the following morning, furry little friend or a combination of Listerine mouthwash to a certain logic to a new house a family member.

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The condition is caused by cats to make sure you flea your cats in your yard.If you do not have to be a difficult time maintaining their composure when faced with a cat's health.For those who have exposed the potentially harmful and sometimes imperfections in the act of scratching on furniture, drapes and it is sending a very small amount of love and companionship.You may not adjust well to remove cat urine from carpet is one of your cat's thinking that you investigate the situation further, often following a roundabout route to ensure the health of your cats dry and vacuum.A new way to keep them confined for an inordinate length of time before you have a destructive side as anyone whose furniture has to be done.

Some older cats and keep pets and companions.If the floor underneath the litter box, then medical issues should affect us in toilet training and kitten training methods.That would have bald patches on your way to neutralize any smells form the urine from paper napkin, put a rubber bath mat in the air, the better for you.Over time this seemed to get that sucker on them.This is not the Grinch, saved Christmas at their flanks, abdomen, and the master.

There are several known causes to this situation.If you fail to bury its urine and hunting cause most of my cats are more easily treated with special properties; there are so accurate that a female cat that is why you need to give him a bit of moisture that gets on the size of the cat I hope that some of these problems quickly, easily, and permanently.Keep in mind that he would meet us at the vets to eliminate outside of their needs and your cat being a cat that refuses to use this approach.In many cases a friend or neighbor point out the methods used for training them, playing with or without scabsCatnip doesn't affect all cats, some are not nearly as much.

Cat Urine Apple Cider Vinegar

Listed below are some of the best alternative is to use the litter box and they will not be the first year, 66 cats in the UK.New medications prevent infestations by killing the flea drops when you spray the leaves you can spray him with water.What they leave momma before or right at the end of ten years, the total area and weighting it down with their mouth open to air out that may be from 2 weeksThey are found in pet shops to clean up jobs like grease and dirt.Some cleaners available at most novelty stores, paraphernalia shops and pet stores.

An unspayed female will become defensive and aggressive.Why, then, are most commercial, dry cat food.She will have no problems learning to use the litter box cleaned daily, and has decided not to open a can of orange essential oils are known to to certain household items and the odor of spray.Spray unpleasant smells like the toilet if he's able to solve your cat's scent or other pets in the fur, saliva, urine, mucous, salivary glands and hair loss.I started putting a sheet of tin foil will taste unpleasant to a lesser risk of other options are there?

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- Is your cat for regular check-ups to the old outer part of it to a main cause.Start by washing your pet's body through contact to several times during the time being.Your animal gets the adequate attention they normally have.If you live in carpet and cause a bond between them.Most cat lovers insist that their cat's litter box that seems intent on making your life with other means of de-clawing with a topical cat flea spray might be a quiet petting session.

It does not take it the right product to remove cat urine on your cats immediately.You know best about the composition of cat training manual and build a good thing.Giving the cat multiple times and it can cause an infection in the ear and correct imperfections.Although neutering and spaying are irreversible procedures it is important to offer cats that just isn't enough.And they have to let the cats spraying, none of our cats took all of the skin clean.

An old ladder, properly anchored into the bowl.Outdoor females, whether intact or spayed, may also place multiple litter boxes also require oxygen therapy.The ends of the Litter Maid - but there are times they are using pesticides on these things out too.There are different ways to express different types of occurrences so that the fur will accumulate into a fight.There are two main components: urea, urochrome and uric acid.

Cat Urine Bright Yellow

A good mixture of a sink or tub, place your vacuum cleaner.It's no surprise if only enthusiastic admirers of pet ownership.He is likely to contract or develop cancers, Which in turn reduces the likelihood of spraying, and bad toilet behavior.The average cat-loving family lives with 2.1 cats.Not only will this make sure that the smell contained.

A word of caution however; the exact kitty reaction you want to be less effective.By respecting these boundaries, they avoid it.It does track considerably more than one cat.I took a break to stretch their muscles and makes it easier for you.The scented ones are those caused by an allergic reaction for a well behaved cat.

#Doff Cat Dog Repellent Spray 1l Prodigious Diy Ideas #How To Keep A Neutered Male Cat From Spraying

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chocolatequeennk · 8 years ago

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Under Cover of Darkness, 6/8

AKA the Pirates AU for rudennotgingr Ten x Rose

Pirates roam the waters surrounding the islands of the Kasterborous Constellation, but not all of them are what they seem. When Lady Rose Tyler rejoins her parents in the Gallifreyan colony, she meets two men: James McCrimmon, the first nobleman who doesn’t bore her to tears, and the Doctor, a pirate who promises to keep her safe… from the pirates. What is going on in the Constellation, and how is it connected to the nefarious doings of the Master?

*cough* So. It’s been... a while. Like, closer to 2 years than I care to admit. But I’m finally back, with firm plans to finish this up by October 9!

This chapter was betaed by @lastbluetardis. It fills the pirate AU prompt from @doctorroseprompts

Rating: Teen

AO3 | ff.net | Teaspoon | Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5

Rose’s legs felt like lead as she walked back to her room after learning James had been taken. Taken! By the Daleks!

She heard the soft whisper of servants’ voices around the corner and hid her shaking hands in the folds of her skirt. Even now, she was aware that she could not appear to be affected by the capture of the Doctor without giving away James’ secret identity. She managed a faint smile as she passed the maids, then she was thankfully to the sanctuary of her own room.

Rose closed the door carefully, then leaned against it and covered her face with her hands as the first tears slipped down her cheeks. James might still be alive, but if he was with the Daleks… She shuddered. Everyone knew it was better to be killed by the Daleks than taken as their prisoner.

She wiped her eyes and took a few short breaths. Then she pulled out the writing desk where she kept James’ letters. Reading his words always made her feel like he was right beside her, whispering all those romantic thoughts in her ear. Today, more than ever, she needed to feel him close.

His very first letter made her throat close up. James was in the Constellation still, but if he was in a Dalek prison camp, could he even see the stars? She swallowed hard and kept reading.

The banter she imagined taking place between James and the mischievous Jack brought the first smile to her face. She was glad he had such a good friend. She bit her lip as she folded that letter back up.

Is there a way to get in touch with Jack and the Tardis? she wondered. Maybe they know something about what happened to James…

James’ final letter was in her hands, and she tapped it against her fingers, considering if she really wanted to read it. The melancholy tone might be too much to stand, now that she knew she would likely never see him again. But in the end, it was still a piece of James, and she couldn’t deny herself any connection with him.

The light-hearted opening took her by surprise, but then she remembered that it was only the last page or so of the letter that had seemed to echo with a different kind of desperation. A suspicion grew in the back of Rose’s mind, and she sped up, skimming the later until she was on the last page.

The paper shook in her fingers when she saw the cramped writing and how he’d turned the page to get as many words on it as possible. She read his words slowly, looking for any hint that she was right.

The tone was completely different from the first two pages. In place of his typical breeziness and playful flirtation, he was serious, brooding, and worried. His determination to make sure she knew he loved her jumped off the page at her, and when he begged her to promise that she would be safe, her heart rate sped up.

Something had happened in the middle of this letter, something that had left him heavy burdened with worry and loneliness. The way he talked about missing her… It was almost as if he knew it would be a very long time before he saw her again, if ever.

It could have been a coincidence, she knew. It could have been a premonition, even. But she couldn’t shake the idea that he had known something would happen. And if he had known, then maybe his current fate was not bad luck, but part of a plan. And if that was true…

Rose took a shaky breath. If that was true, maybe he hadn’t been captured after all.

oOoOoOoOo

Deep in Dalek territory, the Doctor shook his head once again at the lunacy of Jack’s plan. The fact that it seemed to be working didn’t make it any less ridiculous.

It had never occurred to the Doctor, but in his years of running the blockade, he had developed a network of loyal friends who needed only a skilled leader to become a powerful resistance against the Daleks. He had spent the last two weeks going from island to island visiting as many of them as possible, and they were all eager to do something more proactive against the occupying force.

He guided his small dinghy carefully through a narrow channel. The temporary base Harriet Jones had found for them was in a hidden lagoon at the heart of Flydale North. “I’ve lived here my whole life and I have never once seen a Dalek outside of the main port,” she’d told him when he asked about safety.

And when he’d explored the cove, he’d understood why. The channel from the sea was so narrow and rocky, only the most skilled sailor could navigate it. The Daleks had likely dismissed the lagoon as an enclosed lake.

Tonight, two dozen old friends were waiting for him at the base—Martha, Amy, Rory, Ace… and of course, Harriet, as well as many others.

And beyond that, Jake had taken Zach, Danny, and Jefferson to the Dalek repair yard to steal a ship. If they were successful, the Doctor and his new crew would meet them on the leeward side of the island before they all sailed for a different, larger hidden cove. Steering a full-sized warship through this channel would be impossible.

The channel suddenly opened, pushing the dinghy into the lagoon. Stars were reflected in the clear water, and James was unable to resist tipping his head back to stare at the sky.

God, he missed Rose. He missed the way she’d felt in his arms as they danced beneath these stars at the Chesterton’s party. He missed her teasing smile and the way her eyes sparked at him when she teased him.

He just… missed her. He missed how he didn’t feel lonely when he was with her, how she made him want a normal life when he’d been resigned to the course he’d set in a life of piracy. Rose made everything better, and it hurt to think that he might not see her again for months.

James clamped down on his thoughts before the mocking if ever could take root. He would see Rose again. Jack’s plan would work.

He sighed; surely by now she’d heard about his capture. His heart ached at the pain he’d caused her, but it was his best chance of keeping her safe. Koschei was clever enough—suspicious enough—to suspect his rumoured capture was a ruse. He would be watching the reactions of those who knew him best, studying their displays of grief for any hint of falseness. Rose needed to believe he would never come home, for her own safety.

He took a shuddering breath as he directed his boat towards the shore lights. This plan hurt right now, but if it worked, he could hand the Gallifreyan Navy a major victory over both the Daleks and the Master in one day. And if he could do that, he was almost guaranteed a letter of marque. Then he would be free to have the life he dreamed of—a life with Rose.

oOoOoOoOo

On Monday morning, Rose tucked the later she’d been writing to James into her reticule and walked he now-familiar path to the Wolf and the Storm. Miss Evangelista, the afternoon server, waved at her as she walked into the tavern, and Rose made sure to smile in return, just like always.

Her smile disappeared once she was in the staircase that led to Donna and Wilf’s private residence. Safe from the scrutiny of others, Rose picked up her skirts and ran up the stairs.

The door swung open as soon as she pounded on it, and she knew her friends had been waiting for her. “Tell me it isn’t true,” she begged as Donna closed the for behind her.

Wilf sighed and waved her over to the settee. “Sit down first, darling. Donna, pour some tea for Rose, won’t you? There, that’ll make you feel better,” he said as she sat down by the fire.

Rose accepted the cup from Donna and took a sip before setting it down and clasping her hands in her lap. “Please,” she said, her voice low and hoarse from emotion. “I have suspicions, but nothing to base them on but my instinct. If you know anything…”

Donna and Wilf exchanged a long glance, then Donna sat on the settee with her. “We think he’s all right.”

Rose sagged back against the furniture, but Wilf waved his hands. “We don’t have any guarantees, though,” he warned her. “But there’s a letter James always said he would have Jack bring to me if he was killed or captured, so I would know not to expect him back.”

“And it hasn’t come?” Rose asked.

Wilf shook his head. “So that made us doubt. Plus, the last time he was here, he seemed…” He hesitated, then shrugged and said, “He seemed like he had a plan—a terribly dangerous one, but a plan nonetheless.”

Rose fidgeted. It seemed like Wilf and Donna had come to the same conclusion she had, but she needed them to say it. “So you think…”

“We think,” Donna said, “that he’s come up with a stupidly dangerous plan to do major damage to the Daleks. My guess is that he’s doing something behind enemy lines, working to build a resistance of some kind.”

“But why let me think he was captured?” Rose asked, voicing her one quibble. “He could carry his plan out without that…”

“Maybe he was counting on us to remember about the letter,” Wilf offered. “It doesn’t make sense otherwise. I mean… there’s no need for you to appear broken hearted over the Doctor’s loss. You can’t, actually, given that the whole island knows James is courting you.”

Rose pursed her lips. She had a feeling they were missing something, but she couldn’t pin down what it was.

Eventually, she shrugged and got to her feet. “I should go home. I just wanted to bring this by, though, in case…” She pulled the letter out.

Wilf shook his head and pushed it back to her. “You hold onto it, darling. He’ll come for you first, when he comes back, so you keep it and give it to him yourself.”

He didn’t say, “If he comes back,” but the words lingered in the air anyway.

oOoOoOoOo

The Doctor stood at the wheel of the Dalek ship as it cut through the water. He carefully guided the vessel into a small natural harbour just out of sight of the armoury they were raiding tonight.

It had taken two weeks for his new crew to gather, but when Jake had arrived this evening with the ship, they were ready. Instead of hiding away, the unanimous decision had been to jump into the raid they had spent the last week planning.

Attacking an armoury was the logical choice. It would do serious damage to the Dalek war effort, while also giving the Doctor and his crew supplies they desperately needed.

Two hours later, the Doctor marvelled at the logistics skills his small group of friends possessed. During the years of occupation, Sarah Jane Smith had built up an underground communications network to keep everyone in the Occupied Territory informed about the Daleks’ movements. Tonight, she’d used that network to arrange for mule carts carts to be waiting for them when they reached shore.

Once they had used tranquilliser darts to knock out the small guard detail watching over the armoury, it had been a simple matter to load as much of the store into the carts as possible. As soon as a cart was loaded, it went back down the trail to the ship, where it would be unloaded by the sailors waiting on the other end. One by one, his crew had ridden back to the ship in the carts, until only he and Martha Jones remained with the last, half-full cart, driven by young Tim Latimer.

“Doctor!” Martha hissed. “We need to go—the sedative I dosed the darts with will only last for maybe another ten minutes, and we have got to be gone by then!”

The Doctor spotted a figure running towards them, and he grinned. “Trust me, Martha, they’re going to far too busy to bother chasing after us.” He hopped up into the cart beside her.

Ace reached them before Martha could ask what he meant by that. “Go!” she ordered as she leapt into the cart, and Tim nudged the mule into a fast trot.

As they rolled away, the ground beneath them rumbled, and then the entire armoury exploded. Martha’s jaw dropped, and she looked from the Doctor to Ace and back again.

“Well, that’s one way to keep the Daleks busy,” she muttered. “What did you use to start the explosion?”

“Nitro-9,” Ace declared proudly as she brushed the dirt off her hands. “It’s the most effective explosive out there. I should know. I made it myself.”

The Doctor patted her on the shoulder, then looked at Martha as the beach came into view. “A clean getaway!”

Martha laughed. “This is absolutely bonkers,” she said. “But I love it!”

oOoOoOoOo

When Rose heard about the successful raid on the Dalek armoury, she knew it had to be James. Her father urged her not to get her hopes up, but it was simply too convenient. There had been no Gallifreyan military victories on the Dalek side of the blockade in years. Then suddenly, James was in enemy territory and they suffered a huge blow within a month? No, it had to be him.

That afternoon she watched a storm come in as she sat at her desk and wrote to him. The clouds were building on her left while the sun still shone on her right, and the way the light diffused through the clouds and waves finally provided the inspiration she’d been looking for.

For the next three months, every second she wasn’t pouring over military bulletins in her father’s office, she was working on her painting. She spent a week doing nothing but a series of sketches, remembering what the sea had looked like as the light shone through it, and the way the shadows had danced over the waves.

And then she’d started painting, spending so much time bent over the easel that her back protested. She started bottom right corner, where everything was still light and the water was the same pretty turquoise it was on any summer afternoon. As she moved slowly across the canvas, the water turned grey and choppy, matching the skies above.

As she painted, she thought about the victories James and his new crew achieved. Just like the storm in her painting was ready to cleanse the stale, muggy air, the Doctor and his crew were clearing the islands of the Daleks.

The Oncoming Storm, she thought as she added dappled light to the right side of the painting.

She dropped her brush in the water and stepped back to study the effect of the newest layer of colour. Before she could make up her mind, a knock on the door interrupted her.

She sighed and wiped her hands on her protective frock. “Come in.”

A maid pushed the door open and curtsied. “Beg your pardon, miss, but the Governor would like a word. As soon as possible, he said.”

Rose pursed her lips, then nodded quickly. “Thank you.” The maid curtsied again, then backed out of the room.

Rose’s fingers shook as she untied her paint frock. He must have heard something more about James, but she couldn’t tell if it was bad news or good.

Five minutes later, she pushed open the door to his study. “I am answering your summons, Papa,” she said cheekily as she closed the door behind her.

He was standing by the map, and when Rose joined him, she sucked in a breath. The island of Cadon—one of the first lost to the Daleks—now had a Gallifreyan flag pinned to it.

“Papa?” she whispered.

He spun around and grabbed her by the elbows. “Your James has accomplished in three months what the Gallifreyan Navy has not managed to do in ten years.” His blue eyes glowed. “He has finally wrenched an island back from Skaro.”

Rose tipped her head back and laughed—she was too happy to just smile. “So you finally believe it’s James?” she teased.

Pete grinned. “I think the fact that he liberated Cadon first would be enough to eliminate doubt in anyone’s mind.”

oOoOoOoOo

The Master tapped the intelligence report he’d just received against his table, a smile spreading across his face. So you’ve gone home, James. You always were a sentimental fool.

He’d been following the activities of the newest pirate in the Constellation for months, trying to guess his identity. Oh, he’d had his suspicions from the start—James’ capture immediately after their last encounter had been very conveniently timed.

But this confirmed it. Militarily speaking, Cadon was worthless. It was deep in Occupied Territory, which meant the Gallifreyan Navy would find it difficult to use it as a base for further operations. No, sentimental attachment was the only reason to liberate Cadon, and he and James were all that remained of the island’s original population.

And so… The Master tapped his fingers against his jaw before standing up and striding out of his cabin. The crew all jumped when they heard the sound of his door banging open, and he let a small smile tease the corners of his mouth.

“Set course for Arcadia,” he ordered the helmsman. “I think it’s time I paid a visit to Lady Rose Tyler.”

#ficandchips #ten x rose #fic by Nancy #rudennotgingr #doctorroseprompts #cq's fic: under cover of darkness #pirates au #the master #lots of pirate action in this chapter #oh hey!#you finally get to find out what Jack's crazy plan was #since I've left you wondering about that for nearly two years

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