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yandere-society · 3 years

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The Rabbit Hole

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

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

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

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

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

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

Written By: Admin 💖 @therealmintedmango

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I’m going to be a Suh!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I’m chasing something odd in my dream.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...What a dreadfully vivid dream...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N Y/L/N.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kim Seokjin...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tap. Tap. Tap.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You Are Cordially Invited To Participate In:

THE WONDERLAND BALL

A Masquerade Party To Determine The Next “Alice”

For Directions Follow Us Down The Rabbit Hole

Knock Thrice For The Door Mouse To Let You Inside

Cheers,

The ‘Mad Hatter’ & Company

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mr. Jeon Jungkook.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kim Seokjin.

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

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

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

Trouble…

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

A lightbulb finally goes off in my head.

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

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

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

“You have my word.”

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

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

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

Don’t tell me I actually want this…?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I live to serve.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah-ah!” He tsks. “What do we say?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Is he going to watch us?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please, Jungko-“

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

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

“Jung-” I choke on my words.

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

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

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

“J-Jungkook..!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His words finally tip me over the edge.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jungkook!” I gasp.

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

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

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

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

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

“Jung! Ah! Kook!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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builder051 · 3 years

Note

Hi, if you’re taking prompts tonight is there any chance you could write about peter at the tower and he either hears/sees something awful and goes to throw up in a toilet stall with Tony following and being there for him? If you’re not a fan of the original idea just anything that makes peter feel ill and need to be sick? Totally cool if not, thanks. Love your writing!

I am going to tweak the original idea a bit, though I really like the idea! Thanks for sending it.

____________________________

Peter's stomach has been turning since lunchtime, all in anticipation of tonight's dinner party. Stupid dinner party? Important?

Tony's thrown enough adjectives at it to confuse the hell out of Peter, swinging its theme from grandiose to predictably less-than-impressive.

"Do we have to go?" Peter had asked cautiously when the invite list was announced. "I mean..." he finished with a shrug.

"Have to?" Tony raised his brows. "You're the keynote speaker."

"I'm what?"

"Yeah," Tony had said, looking worried. "We've got work to do."

Now it's the night of, and Peter stands in front of his closet, holding his Spider-man suit on one hanger and a dapper 3-piece on another.

It's not a fan event. It doesn't involve pictures, or little kids. Peter throws his Spider-Man getup onto the bed and starts to change into his formal attire. Tony's outfitted him well, but Peter still hopes his black sneakers will cover for the fact that he doesn't own dress shoes.

Peter's grateful for his springy rubber soles when he bounces down the stairs and hops into the sleek black car Happy has parked in front of the building. He expects to be riding alone, so he yanks the door open and slides in, nearly into the lap of one Tony Stark.

"Ohmygod, I'm so sorry," Peter says, moving back whilst trying to keep the oil of the door hinge from scraping across his knee.

"Oh," Tony says, as if he hasn't seen Peter until just now. "Hi."

"Uh. Hi?" Peter waits for Tony to slide one seat over and redo his seatbelt before joining him in the back of the car.

"Got your notes?" Tony asks.

"Um," Peter hesitates, then pats his chest pocket. "Yeah."

"Good deal." Tony nods. "I'm sure it'll be impressive."

Peter nods vaguely, his stomach knotting with another wave of nauseating nervousness.

The rest of the ride takes place in tenable silence. Just as Happy pulls into the loop to discharge them onto the red carpet, though, someone knocks on the window

Startled, Peter rolls it down a few inches. The Black Widow herself peers in, eyes narrowed and level with Peter's.

"I need to talk to you," Natasha hisses.

"Ok, um..." Peter doesn't catch that she's really talking to Tony, and opens the door for her anyway.

As soon as Nat's squeezed into the backseat, she starts to speak at warp speed. Peter can barely keep up with the words spilling from her mouth, but what he does catch makes his blood run cold.

"Terrorist cell. Assassination. Probably a mole."

"HYDRA?" Tony asks.

"Overseas shit. Targeting us, but not afraid of blowing up civvies."

"Is there a casualty count?"

Peter whips his head around to look at Tony, his nervous stomach now in his throat.

Nat makes a noise. She doesn't know. Then she slowly says, "Rising."

Peter can't take it anymore. There's some kind of national security crisis, and they're about to walk the red carpet at a dinner party?

"Are we--?" Peter pushes out. "What are we--?" He swallows hard and looks left to right. Both Tony and Nat seem undecided. Maybe the tiniest bit fearful.

A minute ago, he'd been close to sick worrying about a speech, and now-- Peter feels his gorge begin to rise, and he clamps his hand over his mouth. "Sorry--" he manages as he climbs over Nat and exits the car.

Peter makes it about two steps before his insides seem to rupture, and sick begins to dribble between his fingers. He shakes his filthy hand before bracing against his knees and letting more come up.

Peter still feels ill when someone comes up behind him and puts a hand against the back of his neck. "It's ok," Tony says, now taking Peter's shoulder and pulling him close to his side.

"No, it's--" Strings of mucous and spit trail from his lips to the ground.

"Well, yeah, obviously." Tony takes a breath. "But you, this, whatever... It's ok."

"Wha-what are we doing?" Peter wipes his mouth on his sleeve.

"Not sure yet, kid." Tony squeezes his shoulder and offers his pocket square. "But we're not going to this party. It's stupid, after all."

#fanfic #fanfiction #marvel #mcu #spiderman #spider man #spider-man #Peter parker #tony stark #iron man #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #black widow #sickfic #hurt/comfort #emeto #emetophilia #illumivomi #irondad and spiderson

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random-imagines-blog · 3 years

Text

Empty Walls {Sirius Back x Reader}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 2380 Summary: A lot of the order is pretty untrusting of any Slytherins joining their midst - but there is one person who accepts you. Warnings: Mentions of character death.

Molly Weasley shoved a plate of food in front of you, so harshly that little puddles of gravy spilt onto the table, making a small mess. You thanked her regardless of her hostility, and cleaned up the gravy with your own napkin, embroidered with your initials. She was a wonderfully sweet woman most of the time - but you just so happened to be a Malfoy. Despite your loyalty to the Order of the Phoenix, many of its members still didn’t trust you yet, because of your surname. It was more about that than the fact that you had been in Slytherin, while everyone else around here seemed either to be a Gryffindor or even a Hufflepuff. You tied your blonde hair out of your face and started to eat self-consciously, knowing that there were eyes on you no matter what. Sirius Black’s to be specific. He always seemed to be watching.

The room filled with the sound of eating as everyone dug into Molly’s delicious food. You were the first done, vacating your seat quickly and washed the dish - by hand - in the sink. You had grown up completely spoiled, with the house elves doing all of the cooking and cleaning, so earning your place here had been difficult at first. You didn’t mean to be spoiled. You just couldn’t help how you were raised.

Grimmauld Place. It was dark and it was dingy, but there was one place in this house in particular that you were drawn to. The wall with the family portraits - your own included. All of the little faces of your family, and then the burned out one of Mr. Sirius Black. Your eyes went to your brother and you smirked to yourself. He was painted in that little hat. He always hated that picture, which made you love it even more. You then saw your parents, Lucius and Narcissa. They both looked a little snooty, which was how they tended to appear to the world. But they were never like that when it was just the family together. Your fingers graced your mother’s face. You missed her, a lot. She still sent you owls, and your father would always add his own little notes. They loved you, despite the fact that most of their friends saw you as a traitor. That your actions nearly put a bounty on their own heads, like the rest of the order.

But you were going to help take him down before he could try to collect.

“Do you really like staring at your own face that much?” A deep voice came from behind you. You didn’t turn around. It was Mr. Black himself. He always seemed to be following you around. He was probably the most mistrustful of the lot. You just ignored him, and put your fingers over your father. You missed him as well. His opinion was the one that you had been most scared of - but you were doing what he was too cowardly to do. You were making the right choice.

You didn’t even pay attention to your little portrait. You knew what you looked like. You didn’t give into the vanity that the rest of the Malfoys seemed to have. You preferred knowledge over looks.

“It’s not that bad of a picture. Mine was awful. They made me cut my hair for it, so I looked like some dapper gentleman,” Sirius said. He had come and stood right behind you. You didn’t realize how close he was until then. If you took even one step backwards, you would have bumped into him.

“So it’s a good thing that your place is burnt out then?” You asked.

“I like to think of it more as an empty space,” Sirius said. “I’ll probably paint over the whole damn thing one of these days. Most of these people, I don’t feel like I’m that related to anyway. Like you.”

“We’re hardly related. It’s like ... many branches away,” You said with a shrug. He may be some sort of cousin but it never felt that way to you either. When you looked at him, you saw ... well, a handsome man, even with all of that hair and those tattoos. You had seen photos of him when he was younger and you had some pretty obscene thoughts one should not be having over family members. He’d been, to put it roughly, a hunk. “Why haven’t you painted over it by now?”

“The room needed some sort of decor,” Sirius shrugged. “I don’t know what I’d do with an empty wall.”

“Well, knowing you, I’m sure you’d hang a very flattering portrait of yourself,” You mused, clicking your tongue. “Dorian Gray style.”

“What?” Sirius asked. You laughed then, remembering that someone like him probably hasn’t picked up a book since his time at Hogwarts, let alone one written by a muggle.

“Nothing,” You said, shaking your head. “So what can I help you with? Does Molly need help with something?”

“Why would Molly need help with anything?” Sirius asked, taking a seat in one of his favorite chairs in the bedroom.

“I don’t know - you all seem to think that housework is female only work-” You started but Sirius cut you off.

“Not at all,” He said, shaking his head, those unruly waves flying around him. “I actually wanted to talk to you myself. And it’s really not about housework.”

“Well, talk away,” You said, settling into a chair of your own, facing away from those painted walls.

“I’ve been keeping my eye on you for a while now. I knew your father back in school and-”

“Yes, I’ve heard some of the stories,” You interrupted, crossing your legs. “There’s no need to go into a lot of backstory. I know you don’t trust me and that’s what you want to talk about, isn’t it?”

“Do you always go around making up all of these assumptions?” Sirius asked, curiously. “I don’t distrust you, I actually wanted to tell you that I think you’re doing an amazing job. Especially for someone so young.”

Your mouth went dry at the unexpected praise that he was bestowing on you. “Well, thanks. That actually means a lot to me. It’s been hard, since I had to give up everything but saving the world seems pretty worth it. Wanna tell Molly what you think, because that woman has had it out for me since day one.”

“She’ll come around. She’s just mistrustful of Slytherins, that’s all.”

You were quiet for a couple of minutes there, thinking about all of the times that you had tried to proven yourself to the Order. You had gone out on dangerous missions without hesitation. You had fought people who had once been dear family friends. You were trying to protect the world, which seemed bigger than just one family.

“Guess I just have to give it time - and hope that we have enough of it,” You sighed, realizing there wasn’t much in this situation that you could do. “You’re not so bad yourself, Black. Even if you come from a family of, well, us. Snakes and all.”

“Thanks,” He chuckled. “I’ll take that to heart.”

Since you had already graduated from Hogwarts, you spent a lot of time among the rest of the adults. Molly was finally warming up to you just a little, if only because she had no children to keep her busy now that they were all back at school. You were one of the youngest in the Order, having just left school the year before, and so she doted on you. Or, at the very least, she didn’t make a mess of your food anymore.

“Fancy taking me for a walk?” Sirius asked you one day, leash in hand. You laughed, knowing exactly what he had meant. It was the only way that he could leave this house. Being disguised as Snuffles, the big black dog. And the only way not to get Animal Control called on him was to have someone walk him around.

You nodded, also feeling the need to get out of the stifling nature of the house. Get away from the screams of the portrait and the gloominess that clung around every corer despite you and Molly’s attempt to cheer the place up a bit. Sirius turned into his dog form, and you put the leash and collar on him - which always felt weird, no matter how many times you did it. His tongue lolled out as he grew excited for the fresh air and it was enough to make you laugh.

These walks became more and more frequent - especially because sometimes, when you were in a more isolated part of town, Sirius would turn back into his human self and you would have a coffee and sit in a park, enjoying the early fall nature. You ended up having some really long conversations. About everything. You told him some stories about his godson, Harry, and his friends at school - they were rather infamous and it seemed like you knew a lot about them despite not being in their house. And your brother’s complaints, of course.

It didn’t take long for you to realize that you were falling for this much older man, despite the age gap and the fact that he had been in Azkaban for years, and that this was hardly the time for love, given the fact that there was a war that was growing in importance more and more each day.

“To the ones that we have lost,” Arthur Weasley said, raising his glass in toast over his head.

It was not a happy occasion that you were celebrating here tonight, back at Grimmauld Place. “To the ones that we have lost,” you toasted back in return. And then you drank deeply from your flask - Firewhiskey having become a solace these days.

Sirius was taking things particularly hard - the war may be over, but the cost of that victory was entirely too high. He was tearing himself apart about it, but you couldn’t blame him. He lost his only other best friend. And the Weasleys had lost two sons - one to death, and one to the attack of a werewolf, though Bill was pulling through swimmingly.

You stood up slowly, which garnered the attention of the rest of the people around you. “I can’t be here,” You admitted, finding it too hard to be around loved ones, when they weren’t exactly the ones that you wanted.

You went down the hallway into the room with the family portrait on it, your wand in your hand as you closed the door, but you did not lock it. “What have you done to be remembered for?” You asked the portrait of yourself, and of your parents.

“I think this is a long time coming,” Sirius said, staggering into the room. “Patat Pingere.”

“What are you doing?” You asked, as the paint started to peel off of the walls, and then dissolve into nothing, leaving only the bare baseboards that they must have been before the family tree. You watched as you, your parents and the rest of them just seemed to disappear, like you never existed.

“You deserve to be remembered,” Sirius said, leaning against the doorframe, taking in the sight of all of that white. “So we’ll repaint you now, as you are. And... and Remus. And Tonks. And Fred... the others...”

You nodded, looking at the potential of it now. All of the noble house of Black had disappeared, and most of them were better off being remembered - entirely unlike everyone that you had just lost, and whose death was still pulling at your heart.

“And yours,” You said, looking over at Sirius. You were surprised to see that his head was down, and a sob racked through his entire body, and he was barely keeping himself upright.

You rushed to his side and took his weight upon your shoulder, half-dragging and half-carrying him to his favorite chair and helped to lower him into it. He didn’t let you go, so you had no choice but to sit with him. You curled up in his lap like a kitten, and he held you while sobbing into the shoulder of your robes.

You were through with crying - you’ve made yourself dehydrated with it and nothing ever seemed to get better, but seeing Sirius like this was still draining nonetheless. “You’re not completely alone Sirius - you have me.”

That seemed to help somewhat, for his shoulders stopped shaking as much, but he did continue to hold onto you tightly, making sure that you could not leave, even if you had wanted to. You didn’t want to, you wanted to stay and make sure that he knew - that he knew that you would not leave him.

“I love you.”

You weren’t expecting that from him, especially not at this time, but you began to run your fingers through the dirty, straggly hair.

“I love you too.”

“Don’t just say that if you don’t mean it. I can’t take anything more, I just-”

You’ve never seen him so vulnerable before. Even when he was in the middle of a fight, with spells going around him, narrowly missing him, he usually had some excitement showing on his face. But this was a defeated man, who seemed ready to break at the slightest negativity.

“I mean it, with every bit of me. I really, truly do,” You told him, detangling a few knots with your fingers, your wand having dropped on the floor when it seemed like he was falling. “I love you, Sirius Black.”

“Can we fix this - these empty walls?” Sirius’s head rose just a little.

You nodded, looking into his dark eyes, which had the same expression as a dog that had just been kicked. “Yes, I think we can. I know we can. Let’s start tomorrow.”

#Sirius Black #Sirius Black x reader #Sirius Black oneshot #Harry Potter #Harry Potter oneshot #request #oneshot #one shot #siriusb #x reader

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deathonyourtongue · 4 years

Text

You Mean the World to Me

Summary: The house feels like a tomb. Three years to the day, you stand in front of the mirror, smoothing out your black silk blouse and spraying down a flyaway or two with a touch more hair spray. Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader Word Count: 4K Warnings: HEAVY angst. Non-fappable Smut. A/N: Remember when I said this one would get better? I lied. The song for this one is: Freya Ridings - You Mean the World To Me

The house feels like a tomb. Three years to the day, you stand in front of the mirror, smoothing out your black silk blouse and spraying down a flyaway or two with a touch more hair spray. You double-check that your mascara is waterproof, and that your lipstick isn’t on your teeth.

With a deep, shaking breath, you force yourself to look in the mirror, knowing appearances matter today. It’s why you asked Henry to tie his hair back and trim his beard, if only a little. Though the gathering itself is private, you know better than to think your husband won’t be photographed on the way there and back, despite all effort being made to keep things secret.

After all, Henry hasn’t been photographed since landing at Heathrow all those years ago, and the public is voracious in its curiosity.

You give a soft smile to his reflection as he steps up behind you, looking dapper in an all-black suit. Nearly back to the size you remember him being, the only indicators that things have changed for Henry, are so subtle most wouldn’t even notice. Fine lines map the grief on his face, connecting seamlessly to the fetching swaths of gray in his hair, and ink stains beneath his azurite gaze mark the innumerous sleepless nights and long, taxing days. It’s the emptiness, however, that shows the true extent of the damage. Smiles no longer reach his eyes, if they manage to present themselves at all. Words are carefully selected and thoughtfully spoken in a soft, hushed tone that lacks any true animation.

The man you knew, the one who brought light to every room he entered, has been extinguished and all that remains are the pieces of a heart battered to a pulp by a cruel fate.

No matter how barbaric life has been towards him, however, one thing it has never taken is his gentility. Though Henry goes through the motions in every other area of his life, with you he is painfully tender, doting, and attentive. He goes out of his way to ensure you want for nothing, and he’s never short on the little gestures that move mountains. Each morning you’re awoken with a kiss, and each night he makes sure the sheets are wrapped up around you just how you like. He does everything around the house, leaving you free to heal in your own time, never once so much as asking for help.

For all the gentleness he exudes, below it lays the torment, and each day it rises, drowning Henry slowly. Just as you notice the tenderness with which he treats you, it’s hard to miss the way he neglects himself. Aside from maintaining his physique (something you’re almost certain he does solely for the benefit of friends and family), he’s given up on almost everything he had a passion for. Figures sit in their original packaging, waiting to be painted. The TV is rarely switched to something he enjoys, forever tuned to your channels instead. Books gather dust, and his riding gear has long been stored away in the recesses of a closet somewhere in the house, never to be seen again. The only thing he still takes a smattering of time to enjoy are his games, and you don’t need to ask to know the ‘why’ behind it. Even a drowning man needs to shut his brain off, and slipping into another world is the easiest way to do so.

“Ready, my love?” He whispers, your heart breaking all over again for him as you take in the thin line of his lips, pressing tightly into a smile against what you know is a clenched jaw. Henry’s always on the brink of tears and it’s more than evident how hard he fights it for you.

Today will be harder on him than anyone else, as he never got to say goodbye. Never got to hold the daughter he helped create. Never truly got to grieve her loss. It makes you feel selfish in comparison, though he would never accuse you of such.

He holds up your black blazer for you to slip your arms through, his hands careful and gentle as they smooth the material over your shoulders. You close your eyes as he opens his mouth to speak again, knowing what’s coming.

“You look beautiful, darling.”

It’s hard to understand why he even still cares for you after everything you’ve put him through and the guilt threatens to cut off your air as you turn and gaze up at the man you love more than anything. Straightening his tie, you shake your head, frowning.

“You don’t need to say nice things to me. Not today.” Lip quivering, you rest your hand over his heart for a moment before walking out of the room, giving Henry the privacy you know he needs to compose himself. His tell is the small vein next to his eye, one that only strains when he can no longer bear to fight. You wish you could make it disappear forever, but you don’t know how. He won’t let you in, won’t let you carry even a pocketful of the load he’s been hauling for years; the weight that’s slowly sinking him past the point of no return.

Clutching your own heart as you hear him turn on the faucet to mask the sounds of his tears, you wonder, not for the first time, if this gathering won’t be the straw that breaks him for good. Breathing deeply, you fight your own heartbreak, willing yourself to be the rock for once.

Henry grips your hand tightly in his as you and the rest of the attendants walk briskly through the gates of Brompton, ignoring the cries of photographers, all clamoring to get their first pictures of Henry in three years. His brothers shield you both from the brunt of it, but it still leaves you feeling dizzy and out of sorts, even when you reach the relative privacy of the chapel.

After regrouping, your small gathering of friends and family head towards the gravestone Henry’s mother had dutifully commissioned and overseen the installation of. Neither of you had any input, you because of the condition you were in, and Henry because he couldn’t even bear to hear it spoken of without having a full panic attack.

Though appropriately small, the onyx headstone brings tears to your eyes immediately, due to the detail in the angel that lays atop it, the artist having mixed the gray stone statue seamlessly with wispy clouds at the top of the polished black granite. It’s the first time you’ve seen your daughter’s name written anywhere, and it instantly knocks the wind from your lungs, leaving you wobbling.

Henry’s strong arms hold you up until you can find your footing again, tucking you in close to his side as any hope of being the strong one, of fighting against the painful memories is lost. Crying softly into the lapel of his jacket, you wonder how he’s able to hold it together, until you remember that he’s had three years of practice, three years of putting his pain dead last in the list of priorities. Still, it’s impossible to miss the tremor in his hands and the subtle rocking of his body as he valiantly picks up the fight you’ve already lost.

None of the speeches reach your ears, your eyes focused entirely on the gravestone, your mind replaying the sole image of your daughter in your thoughts over and over again. Gripping Henry’s suit tightly, you remember how serene her face was, how perfectly formed in every way she had been; how much you yearned for her to take her first breath and let out a cry.

As the ceremony ends and the small crowd begins to disperse, you feel Henry pull away, handing you off to one of his brothers with an encouraging nod and words you can barely make out. You don’t fight it, no matter how much you wish he’d let you stay, let you into his grief. If nothing else, he’s earned the right of saying goodbye to the daughter he so longed for, the one he never got to meet, in private. Looking over your shoulder, fresh tears stream down your face as you watch your husband fall to his knees. His scream is silent, one hand gripping his own head in a vice, the other clutching the headstone as though it were a life preserver in a raging sea. You’ve never seen a man more broken and for the first time, you wonder if Henry will survive this at all. One thought runs through your head on repeat as you’re ushered into one of the black sedans in the small convoy.

He didn’t deserve this. None of it. It was all your fault.

In the days that follow, Henry’s doting becomes almost unbearable. You walk on eggshells around him and he cares for you like fine crystal, both of you terrified that the other will shatter, never to be repaired. Yet, despite your reticence to be looked after, your growing anger that he won’t let you help in any way, you can’t, in good conscience, keep him from carrying out his daily rituals, knowing it’s all he has.

Henry treats each kiss from you as though it will be his last, lips lingering on yours just a little longer than necessary. When you hug, it’s as though you’re imbuing him with just enough energy to make it through another day. You quickly realize that aside from you, he has nothing tethering him to life. Despite his family being ever caring and concerned, despite friends doing their best to rally around him, it seems as though Henry is simply waiting to draw his last breath, waiting for his heart to finally give out under all the pressure. The only reason he doesn’t let go is because you’re still here. You wish once more that he would just give over some of his pain, allow himself some small relief, no matter how quickly it came and went.

You catch him crying silently at his computer one morning, his favorite game paused in favor of gazing out the window. Breaths shallow and scratchy, it’s as though each inhale lacerates his windpipe. It’s an image you know will be burned into your memory forever, and before you can stop yourself, you’re pulling him into your arms, holding fast as he does his best to wrestle out of your grip in order to wipe his eyes and pretend like everything is fine.

“What’s the matter, love?” He asks, his voice that of a drowning man, Henry managing to push you far away enough to see your face. The fear and shame in his eyes startles you, but it’s the smile, so tender and compassionate that plunges the knife straight into your heart.

“Stop this.” You beg, your own tears falling furiously as you cup his face in your hands, despairing when his eyes soften and the kindness in them focuses directly on you.

“I’m okay, my love. I promise.” Even as he says the words, Henry’s face crumples and the floodgates finally give way. All the fight leaves him and his body goes limp in your arms before every muscle tenses back up as though made of stone.

You hold him tightly as it all comes rushing out, Henry’s keening wail muffled against your sternum, his anguish palpable in a way you’ve never experienced before, even on the night your memory came back to you.

“Why?” The question leaves his lips like a mantra and at first, you think he’s just asking rhetorically, but when he manages to look up at you, it’s clear he wants an answer.

“Why did you go through it all alone? Why didn’t you have them call me?” Henry says between gasps for air, his chest heaving as the hurt comes through full force. The realization that he went through three years’ worth of suffering without ever truly knowing why, hammers the knife back into your heart and leaves you momentarily speechless.

“It was my responsibility to keep her safe and I...I failed,” you whimper, the pain simmering through every inch of your chest. “It was the one thing you wanted more than anything, Henry, and I fucked it all up. It was my fault. It was all my fault!”

He crushes you to him, shaking his head, unwilling to accept the answer as fact. You sob into the crook of his neck, the same panic you’d felt that night coming back in breathtaking speed. Henry’s tenderness radiates in waves, and while his own tears don’t slow, his body relaxes some, secure in the new knowledge he finally possesses. You feel his lips press to the crown of your head, one hand squeezing the nape of your neck gently while the other does laps up and down your spine, Henry putting himself on the back-burner yet again.

“It was never, ever your fault, my love. The doctor said it would have happened regardless of how closely you’d been monitored. Sometimes life is just cruel, but it was never your fault. I will never blame you for the loss of our child. Never. I just wish...I wish I could have b-been there to h-help you th-through it.”

The ache in his voice pulls another whimper from your lips and as you finally get your wish and take on some of his burden, you realize how grave an error in judgement you’d made that night. Trying to keep him from the pain of loss had only amplified it exponentially for both of you.

Days turn to weeks, and little by little, you move back into a familiar comfort with one another. Gone are the eggshells, replaced with wine, movies, and the occasional dance in the kitchen while dinner is cooking. You’re healing, falling in love all over again, but Henry...Henry’s lagging behind.

Though he no longer hides his bad days from you, and they do indeed get less frequent, you can’t help but notice what seems to be a permanent change in the man you love. Like a soldier after an arduous tour of duty, Henry seems to let life just come at him without any reasonable reaction. Good or bad, he remains placid, eyes always holding the sadness you’re now certain will never truly leave him. Though his smiles get brighter, they still don’t reach his gaze, at times leaving you uncertain of whether he’s genuinely experiencing happiness or just watching it pass him by as though it were a paper boat on a lazy river.

It's most apparent at night when he watches you get ready for bed. You’ve grown comfortable enough with him that changing in front of him is no longer something to blush about, and though it took a while to get back in the habit, you now do so every night without a second thought. It was silly, really, when you considered that he’d been solely responsible for your care for two years. You were horrified to learn the details of said care, having never wanted to put Henry in such a position, but he’d merely shrugged it off as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

“It was never a question in my mind, love. You’re my wife. My responsibility is first and foremost to your care and happiness. I couldn’t leave that in the hands of anyone else.”

Disrobing in front of him is about as intimate as you get nowadays, but not for lack of trying. Every little spot you remembered from before has been kissed and caressed in the hopes of rousing him to attention. Each time, Henry will gently stop you, his eyes filled with shame and regret despite the tender smile of understanding. Logically, he knows you want to be intimate again, wants that part of your relationship to come back, but he can’t bring himself to do it, fearing a repeat of history. You know, because it’s the same fear you tamp down each time you try, hoping that this time will be different.

So when his soft voice breaks through the otherwise-silent room one night, it catches you off guard.

“Let me see you,” Henry whispers, his expression holding something different in it as you turn to face him. Brow somewhat furrowed, his eyes carry a mixture of awe and longing as he lets his gaze slip over your nude form. Your heart clenches when you see his eyes shimmer with tears, Henry’s mouth parted softly, as though he’s breathing his last.

Sitting up against the headboard, hands folded in his lap, he smiles fondly as his gaze meets yours once more. You don’t dare speak, letting him have his fill, knowing this the most he’s tried to do in a long, long time. Henry lets out a shaky sigh, and the tears slip down his cheeks, making your heart ache.

“You’re breathtaking. Simply breathtaking, in every way.”

Your own lip quivers as you take a step forward, hoping against hope that this is what he needs to heal that much further.

“You’re not so bad yourself, you know,” you murmur, cupping his face in your hand, your fingers scratching gently at the beard that’s become more familiar than the once-smooth face you remember.

Henry laughs softly, and it’s as though the heavens have opened up. Gazing into each other’s eyes, you find the courage to say what’s been on your mind for the last few days.

“I miss us. I miss making love, Henry. I miss feeling you inside me. More than anything though, I miss us not being afraid of each other like this. I want to try again, Henry. I want another chance at…” You can’t finish, the words turning into the faintest of whispers as you wait for his reaction your own tears sliding down your face.

“I’m scared. Scared of things going wrong, scared of not being there again.” Henry admits, his voice pinching as he looks up at you helplessly. “Scared that I’ll lose you.”

“I am too, Henry. But I’m more scared of losing us than anything else. I can handle anything fate wants to throw in our faces if I have you by my side. I know that now. But I can’t sit by and watch our love die because we’re too scared to nurse it back to life after a storm.”

You’re taken by surprise when Henry reaches up and cups the back of your neck, bringing you down for a tender kiss so filled with desperate yearning, it leaves you breathless. Without hesitation, he pulls you into his lap, deepening the contact. Blindly, you reach up and undo the band holding Henry’s hair in place. You want every part of him to be free, including the wild mane of curls he normally keeps pristinely tied back. It seems to release something inside him because before you know it, you’re on your back and he’s shimmying out of the lounge pants he wears to bed.

His lips light a path all along your body, desire mixed with a deep-seated longing for the physical intimacy he hasn’t experienced in years. Where most men would have tried to get back at it at the first opportunity, Henry was saintly in his patience, waiting for you to be comfortable, to be ready, to initiate. Turning you down had never been his intention; just a knee-jerk reaction to an overabundance of pain that he’s still trying to cope with.

Your hands card through his curls as you let him learn your body anew, let him come to terms with his fears as he kisses, licks, and sucks every inch of you. Sounds of relief escape between panting breaths, relief not only that he can still be with you in this way, but that he’s not as broken as he’d assumed. Your own hand sliding down slowly from his hip confirm that at least one of his fears has been assuaged and you don’t miss the flicker of excitement and arousal in his blue eyes as he feels your touch.

Henry comes back to your lips, kissing with more energy and passion than you’ve felt since waking, each physical display of love mending your heart a little more. Finally, the man you remember is returning. Little by little, your husband, the other half of your soul, is coming back to you. It’s enough to bring fresh tears to your eyes, tears you blink away quickly, not wanting them to ruin the moment. Henry doesn’t miss it however, kissing them away and making you whimper.

Meeting your gaze, he poses a final question silently, and you can only manage to nod, unable to so much as think of saying no.

It’s different than you remember; better. He takes his time, his sole focus on your pleasure, even while you’re focused on his. The kisses amplify every thrust, your hips moving as one, connected mind, body, and soul. It isn’t long before your both coated in a thin sheen of sweat, eyes locked on one another as you move towards release together.

The heated ache at your core only grows as Henry slips your legs over his broad shoulders, intentionally deepening every movement he makes inside you. Mouth parted, you can only watch your husband in awe as he works your body from memory, knowing exactly what feels right.

It doesn’t take much for either of you to reach your peaks, time away from the primal act causing every sensation to be intensified, and it’s not until your gazes lock once more that you realize you’ll both fall over the edge together.

The gravity of what’s happening hits the two of you immediately after the first wave of pleasure, but it’s too late; there’s nothing to be done for it. You squeeze Henry’s hands, begging him to meet your gaze once more, but his own eyes are tightly shut.

He keeps them closed as he lifts your right leg over his head, bringing it to join your left at his shoulder. Your tears come unbidden as you realize what he’s doing.

“Henry!” You squeak out, gripping his hand tighter, beside yourself with the amount of love you feel for your husband, the fear of the future, and the hope that this time, it’ll work out better than it did the first time.

Henry finally opens his eyes, his gaze meeting yours for a moment before he closes them again, sobbing. His free hand strokes your calf gently, his other shaking in your grip, and when he finally speaks, you can hear the release of his heart as clearly as you’d felt the release of his seed moments earlier.

“I love you so much! You mean the world to me.”

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fic #fic #deathonyourtongueoriginals

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c-atm · 4 years

Text

Hometown and City

Hometown & City

"I should really get a car." HB muttered to herself as she jogged towards LHW R&D. A look of determination and concern as she did. Peridot text was usually long winded speeches of how great she was because of their current achievement in whatever project they were working on, but there were exceptions when Peridot words were straight to the point..or even cryptic. Usually, when something was about to go down. She looked down at her phone again, at Peri's text…

P-dottie: Something's coming through. Assault spheres on standy. Get here now.

There was definitely something going down tonight. Part of her thought she should call Lion back with the younger duo and she mentally kicked herself for it.

"Come on, Maheswaran. We don't even know if the thing is an enemy...Don't ruin their fun for a possibility"

Demon hunters or whatever they may be, they were still teens, her 'younger siblings' and they still deserve to have a time out to enjoy themselves.

"Still.. better safe than sorry."

She smirked as she turned the phone to her home screen. The background which was once a picture of Mister in costume during their empire excursion, her new save screen; were replaced by a picture of Witchy, Dapper, and Mister each snoring on her couch after a long winded night of gaming. She happened to walk in on them after returning from R&D and almost giggled at the sight.

Dapper and Mister slept in almost the exact same position ; head tipped back, eyes closed, mouth slightly opened, controllers on the table.

The difference?

Mister hands being in the playing position while Dappers right hand rested on the waist of Witchy intertwined with her own hand. Witchy was curled up, using Dapper thigh as a head pillow. Her feet were lightly pressed against Mister's leg.

She remembered she changed into her houseware before snuggling next to Mister, only for him to wake up and sit her on his lap, holding her around her midsection, before welcoming her home, leaning her head on the crook of his neck and falling back to sleep after kissing her temple. Such a homey feeling it was.

She shook her head to focus on the task at hand, pressing the diamond Icon bring up the insignia the diamonds, she pressed on the pink diamond at the top of the screen. The diamond communicator app, only available to phones jailbroken or made by Little Homeworld R&D or Homeworld R&D.

She waited for his phone to ring as she continued her way about to turn on to the street LHWR&D stayed, when she saw Garnet and Pearl chasing someone little gem in a cloak out of the building, weapons drawn.

"Come back here!" Pearl ordered to no avail.

"No, I didn't do anything!"

The lilith gem, in annoyance, readied her spear before launching a concentrated blast of energy, with all intentions of poofing the gem.

The gem looked as the blast got closer before her reflexes kicked in, leaping out of the way in the last moment. Grimacing as the blast licked her arm, a glancing blow. She growled but turned to run only to feel her legs slipped from under her and land on her back. She didn't even get to grimace when she felt a weight on her chest. Opening her eyes to see Connie and the gems glaring down at her, the human straddling her stomach and her blade in her face. A steady cold eyes meeting her own.

"That's enough, stand dow-"

"Bi..Big sis."

Connie stopped when she heard whimpering from the gem. Removing the hood of her cloak, the three crystal gems gasp at the oh-so familiar purple face staring back at them.

"Amethyst?" Connie glanced at the purple on black eyes, the purple circular marking on her cheeks and the horns on her head...Things that place Dapper in her head. "You're a demon… You're Dapper's and Witchy's Amethyst."

Connie climbed to her feet almost instantly sheathing her blade. She held out a hand to the demoness and an apologetic and shameful smile on her face. " We have some things to discuss."

"Like, why'd you're so much taller, scarier and filled out?" The demoness looked up at her as she took her hand.

"Among other things.." Connie joked as she helped Amethyst up, just as she was about to introduce herself two things happened. Steven returned her call finally, and….

"Well, little witch. Sorry, I guess you aren't so little now huh?.. How long have you been here?" The four turned to a figure on the roof of the R&D building perring down.

He was a fine dressed gentleman, admittedly. Nice white and red checkered collar shirt, white jeans, black heeled pointed toe flats. He also had reptilian green teeth, yellow beady eyes, tan skin and was boney; near skeletal. The way he looked at Connie put her on edge.

He spoke in a slick and almost adoringly voice. "You look like you aged a bit, but for me..not even a half-hour passed since we met…" Anger slipped in his voice as he grabbed his collar revealing his third degree burnt collarbone, and slashed throat. " Lucky me, that spell casted us away before you finished the job.."

'Good going you two.' Connie thought in pride as she arched an eyebrow at the supposed demon. "Maybe you should have stayed in your hole then."

"So spunky even now, even without your partner. Where is your little demon? Did he get lost in the streams of time? Maybe crying over your grave in the future as we speak."

Connie did not like this person at all. His conceit reminded her too much of Kevin of the past. Before she could say anything, Garnet interjected, taking a step forward, her fist tight.

"Who are you? What's your business here?!"

"You golems are so aggressive.." He shrugged playfully " You know when I finally to this.." He paused to take a deep almost euphoric breath of air. "Realm...The other golems asked me the same thing with weapons towards me. All I said was the truth, I was here to kill a half-demon and his witch harlot..and they attacked."

He smirked as he took a pouch from his pocket opening it upside down as the uncracked but dimmed gems of Peridot, Bismuth, Amethyst and Lapis, fell towards the street. Garnet caught them giving the two a reassuring smile, before turning to the demon with rage.

"Though they were so grateful to help me recover a bit.. Draining their essence in all, though inorganic energy are never as good as demon or human magical energies. It always leaves me empty...Help me out huh?"

The demoness Amethyst kept her eyes on the demon growling standing behind Connie's leg, only to be surprised by the human's palm on her head comforting her as she kept her eyes on the opponent in front of her, sword in hand.

"Don't worry." Connie looked back at the knee high demoness. " We got this."

"Confident aren't we.. That's fine." The demon crouched low growling as he did. Black wisps of magic seeped off his body and surrounded Crystal Gems. "I'll just break your confidence with your body."

While HB was fighting within her hometown, A pink portal was opening up on top of an Empire city roof and through it came the laughter of two teens, who slid out of and almost off it, on a pink lion; Dapper and Witchy. In Witchy's hand was a giant strawberry and on Dapper's back was a couple of Homeworld style sais.

Woah Boy!" Dapper exclaimed as He wrapped his hands around his lady's waist keeping her close, as they nearly tipped over. "I'm starting to think Bro was right and you do need parking practice."

Lion responded with an annoyed stare. only for it to turn to a pleased mewling as Witch scratched his head.

"Lion's perfect as he is. Don't listen to those jealous Steven's" She praised as she kissed the jungle cat head.

Dapper just shook his head with a smirk as he climbed down. He walked to the edge of the roof and sat down taking a look at the city below. A bit of a serene look on his face. Wordlessly, he held his hand towards his lady, asking for her company.

"Sheesh." Witchy gave her partner a gentle smile as she joined him, strawberry in her left hand. "You're so starved for my attention, Steven." Witchy teased as she took a bite of the strawberry, humming in sweet surprise as the juice shot down her throat. She blushed as she heard him chuckle giving him a small glare.

"What?"

Dapper shook his head before wiping her strawberry covered lips with his thumb. "You're a mess, my lady." He slurped up the residue from his thumb with a smirk. "Almost as sweet as you."

Face a beautiful maroon half pout, Witchy wrapped her right arm around Dapper and leaned her head on his shoulders. "I swear. Is every Steven a flirt, tasked with making every Connie a flustered mess."

"I'm sure it's the reverse a good amount of the time as well... if bro and sis is an example of the norm." Dapper chuckled. "Maybe it's an undeniable truth of existence."

Witchy looked up, intrigued but also smugly."What, that you were put on earth to raise my blood pressure?"

"I was put on earth to make your heart race, my lady." Dapper joked flirtatiously, getting a half hearted groan from Witchy. "Jokes aside..I'm starting to think for every 'Steven', there's a 'Connie'."

"Really now?" A relaxed smile graced her face. "It's almost like you're saying our lives are intertwined.. Like we're fated to be with each other or something like soulmates?"

"You jest but there's an older version of us who's the embodiment of 'honeymoon' phase."

"Despite not being 'together'."Witchy added with a knowing smirk.

Dapper nodded in agreement a chuckle of his own before settling to a smile. " Then there's us…"

"Please don't say we're soulmates." Witchy bemoaned.

"But we are!" Dapper announced as he took a bite of the strawberry. "Mmm! That's dang good"

"Hey, get your own, greedy demon." Witchy ordered as she pulled the berry away.

"You're so mean, my lady. Just one more bite." Dapper reached towards the fruit.

Witchy leaned back trying to keep the fruit away. "Oh, yeah right! I know what a bite from you is like."

"You do, don't you."Dapper stated as he leaned closer to her, his smile falling to a sly grin and his attention on her alone.

Blushing as she was, she didn't back down, deciding to take a page from HB's book. She cupped his chin and gave him a small coaxing smile. "Of course, I do. I have your mark to prove it, 'soulmate'. "

She chuckled when she saw Dapper, blushed and turned away. "That was smooth, my lady." He looked back at her teasing grin.

"You're adorable when you're flustered. It actually feels good to be on the other side." Witchy impishly poked the demon nose as she giggled.

"Oh role reversal is it?" Dapper gave his lady a dangerous smile as his fingers went to her sides. "then I guess I get to punish you as you would do me."

"Steven, don't you daaaaAhahahaha."

Witchy squirmed and laughed as she succumbed to his tickling. She kicked and tried to block his careful claws, but it was to no avail.

"Such a beautiful laugh, my lady. Maybe it's a traif of being a Connie. " Dapper half-joked, he really did love his lady's laugh and preferred it over HB's

"Ahhhhaha,,Like schmaltzy...haha! flirting..Is a Steven trait." Witchy said between laughing and catching her breath.

"You like it!" Dapper stated as he tickled more vigorously getting more laughter from the Witchy.. "Give..Give...Give."

"Nooohahaha! We...Connie's...dohahahaha...don't falter!"

"Neither do us Steven's! I guess we're at an impasse, then."

"Wait..I'll give you the..Hahaha..Behahah. The berry!"

Dapper paused for a moment."Tempting…"

Witchy used this moment to catch her breath and try to slip from under him when he stroked her sides with his claws.

"But I rather, your laughter."

"Nohahaha! Wait Lion help!"

Lion looked at the two antic before walking over and nuzzling Witchy neck as if he was trying to tickle her as well making her laugh even more.

"Nohoho! I've been forsaken, betrayed, and cheated!" Witchy yelled through their affectionate assault. "Ok ok! ..I can't breath...You got it!"

"What was that?"

"You win!"

Dapper looked at Lion for a moment before grinning at the beast and pressing his skull to him. He rolled over laying next to the tired and still giggling Witchy.

"Connie's never falter huh?"

"You had help." She laughed again, getting a lick from Lion. She turned to the pink cat with a side smirk. "How are you going to betray your aunt?"

Lion yawned before going to the center of the roof to give them privacy.

The two layed there looking up, hands instinctively interlocked.

"I'm going to miss this world. It's so fun and peaceful. It's relaxing."

Dapper looked over at his lady, her face was reflective as she stared up at the night sky, stars in her black eyes..

"I mean..it's been awhile since we felt like...Teens..No hunts or anything..It's nice."

"But…"

"I'm ready. I want to go back." Witchy said with conviction. "I miss our world. Miss studying with our Pearl and Garnet, walking around our city with AAmethyst. Miss our garden, our living room, our kitchen. My bedroom..I miss our home."

Dapper watched as his lady wiped her eyes to keep from crying.

She gave a strained chuckled before continuing "Strange, I miss our adventurous and comparatively dangerous lives?"

Dapper shook his head. "No I feel the same."

If you asked Dapper about his opinion on the matter of worlds, he'd tell you he'd rather be wherever his lady was..Truthly he could see them settling and getting caught in the go with the flow aura of Beach City and Little Homeworld...But it wasn't their world to enjoy.

They didn't put in the work or battle the enemies their older counterparts did and still are if what Mister and HB stated about the peace being 'relative'. They themselves didn't see the relative part of the peace, but there's a reason for LHWR&D and for Mister to still engage in ambassador duties

Still his main concern was staring at him looking for him to continue. He gave his lady hand a gentle squeeze. "I'm in the same mind as you...but I think part of me wishes you wanted to stay here. Would be easier to keep you safe here."

"So you want to slack on your responsibilities?" She teased the demon turning to him.

"Perish the thought, my lady." Dapper retorted with. grin before facing her. Stroking her chin with the back of his hand. "Just mean I could focus more on making you happy than keeping you safe."

Witchy blushed bright as she looked down " You do both, Steven. No matter what world we're in. I only feel this safe and happy knowing you're with me." She looked up into his demon eyes and only felt affection from and for them.

"I'm grateful for it. For entering a contract..for being best friends..for having such a loving and loveable dapper demon as a 'soulmate'."

"Only for you, my lady."

It was inevitable. The pull of affection, the city light below them and the natural ones above. The serene silence and their shy and excited smile. They instinctively moved closer. their breath brushing against each other.

"My lady?"

"Please."

He nodded feeling nervous as he moved in eyes closed lips a thread apart from his lady's…

"Guys!"

The two broke apart as if they were burned and looked toward Mister..Who was half way out of Lion's mane.. Before either could say anything Mister interrupted..

"Connie's fighting a demon."

That's all they needed to hear.

#jambudweek2 #Connverse crossover #Steven universe #Connie Maheswaran #Connverse #Comedic #witchdemonAU #fighting flirty #Lion #Mister #Heartberry #Witchconnie #Demonsteven #Homtown #City

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musedblues · 4 years

Text

Born To Love You [Part: 2]

summary: When Gwilym ropes you into a lie, the truth becomes painfully obvious. When Joe makes things harder, there's no telling if he even has a clue.

a/n: Lads. I can't possibly thank you lot enough all the lovely wonderful feedback. 💖 I hope you'll enjoy the second installment of all this drama! Please don't be afraid to keep sharing your thoughts, feelings, and/or predictions?! And if I forgot to tag you, or you'd like to be tagged, let me know!

w/c: 4k

Part 3

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

"Oh my God." You chuckled, raking your eyes over Gwilym's figure. He was dressed in ivory clogs, velvet bell-bottoms, a silk button-up, and a wig of black curls. You couldn't help but giggle.

"What, does it look bad?"

"No, no... not bad!" You eased, laughing still. "Just... so not you!" You nodded his way. Olive clung to your side, trying to figure out if the man standing before you was really her father. He really did look like Brian May, didn't he?

"Well, that is the goal," Gwilym waved you to follow close behind, the sound of his clogs heavy against the concrete floor. He rested his palm on the small of your back, then. The way he did when guiding you through big crowds or supermarkets anytime Olive was in your clutch. So it felt normal. But you all too suddenly realized the act was officially starting.

Ben was walking toward the trailers too, shrugging on a dapper camel leather coat when he noticed you.

"Well, Hello! Is the famous Mrs. Lee really gracing us with her presence on our set, today?" The striking blonde flashed a brilliant smile your way as he stepped in time with your fake husband.

So now, not only were you going by a name that wasn't yours at all, but you were famous for it? You realized then that if you wanted to change your mind, to confess, it was already too late. There was no time to heave a sigh, you were already playing along...

"Hello, Ben. Nice wig." You rose your brows, noticing the strands of blonde around his pretty face. Long hair suited him.

"That's not fair!" Gwilym chuckled. You let out a playful wince because no matter how hard you tried to take Gwilym seriously with a 70's perm, you couldn't.

"It's the clogs, mate." Ben joined forces with you, giving you a sly smirk. You just had to snicker once more, because Gwilym looked like a completely different person.

"I'm to meet Anita tomorrow, you know?" Gwilym fretted in a high pitch.

"Aye, then don't wear the clogs." Ben countered.

Even Olive giggled like she was in on the joke. Gwilym scrunched his nose in her direction as everyone went on poking fun at him.

After last night, neither of you addressed his slip up, or your decision to stoop to his level. You simply went on with some kind of unspoken understanding that if anyone asked, you'd give the same false answers about your relationship status, every time. That had never been true to this degree. Till now you'd given varied answers, revolving around the truth of your relationship. Now, you were flat out lying. Now you were pretending to be married.

So, you'd been nervous, prepared for some kind of overblown press conference where this new group of friends would dig for details about your life as a couple. But you hadn't seen many of them yet, and the ones you had were busy anyway, lost in their own roles.

You spent a while patiently lingering in Gwils trailer while he was called to set, hoping your time here would remain just as easy going as it had been. When he came back for a costume change, you left the space to Gwil, and let Olive wander around behind the scenes, meandering slowly by her side as she stumbled every few steps or so. And like she knew where she was off to all along, the girl led you right toward some of her father's castmates, who were mucking about on a makeshift stage.

Joe was doing some dance that had Ben doubled over with laughter. It was the first time you saw his perm in all its wonder as he jumped from a platform, noticing you. He was already smiling at the way he'd made Ben laugh, but his grin reached his eyes, crinkling a little when your gazes met. When you smiled back, unabashedly, you realized that you were treading very dangerous waters.

You'd been so blindsided by Gwilym's blunder that you'd nearly forgotten just how dazzling Joe's presence was.

Don't look right at him. There's nothing to worry about. You told yourself. He was just apart of the cast.

"Hello, ladies." Joe mused, sauntering toward you as Ben shook off his laughter and followed close behind. Olive reached out to Joe, and attempted to say his name after you greeted him kindly. You'd spent the morning listening to her practice the words she'd already perfected, and hoped a new one would stick out among the few others.

You scoped Olive up out of the way as both actors stopped before you.

"No, no, say Ben! Like before!" Ben coaxed your child to like him the best. She almost had said his name the night before. Now, Olive listened to Ben's plea with a bashful grin, and then shook her head, deciding against obliging the blonde.

"Joe!" Olive leaned away from you, pointing to the actor whose name she spoke clear as a bell.

"Oh my God! Yes! That's me!" Joe laughed, giving Ben a playful jab to really establish his excitement.

"Joe." Olive giggled at these antics and said his name perfectly a second time.

"She'll never stop now." You laugh in realization. You and Gwil called them 'words of the day.' She only knew about four others, but once she'd gotten one just right, she'd say it for hours on end.

"And here I've worked so hard to be your favorite." Ben shook his head at Olive, who looked at him but was still giggling and pointing to Joe. She'd clearly taken a sudden liking to him. Maybe it was his perm, you thought. Joe continued to dance around victoriously until the boy's names were called by some PA. You took the moment to rush back to Gwilym's trailer, but couldn't help and glance over your shoulder to catch one last glimpse of Joe as he frolicked the opposite direction. As he danced away, you noticed Joe looking behind too; casting a small wave you missed as you whipped your head back around and hurried away a little faster.

///

Brian May seemed more like a cheery grandfather, than the musical legend you'd known him to be through screens over the years. It was hard for you to understand that the rosy-cheeked, white-haired man with a kind smile was responsible for some of rock and rolls most iconic sounds. He was standing before you with long arms outstretched, and you'd be a fool not to embrace Brian for all it was worth.

You saved fawning over his legacy in exchange for expressing your excitement that this opportunity gave Gwilym. Your fake husband was on cloud nine at the mention of Bohemian Rhapsody, and stepping onto the set with him another morning in a row was like watching the sunrise.

The next time you saw him, he was clad in the silly black wig and a shining silver button up. Olive was still unsure how to handle seeing her father all dolled up, but she released her death grip on you as Gwilym spoke to the baby in a familiar way. He shook some of the curls out of his eyes and that scored a giggle from Olive; you practically breathed a sigh of relief. It was then, as you were successfully functioning as co-parents, that Brian May brought his lovely wife Anita into the room.

You weren't sure what Gwyilm had told Brian, but even if he'd never mentioned you at all, you knew how this scene looked. You'd seen the faces of strangers in passing as they watched you and Gwilym minding your own business, pushing a strolling through the park. Brian May and his lovely wife were looking at you and Gwilym like that now, albeit, Anita was seeing Gwilym as the younger version of her husband for the first time.

For a moment it was all gasped laughter and starry-eyed stares as Brian snapped photos of his beloved with his clone. Gwilym was a pro at bantering with the lady, almost as if his nerves leading up to this moment never existed at all. Anita spent a moment smiling at Olive in your arms, making your baby smile.

Gwilym took her from you, walking toward the craft table when Joe called his name. The sound of the man's voice caught your attention all the same. Against your better judgment, you stared past everyone and glued your eyes to the actor whose auburn curls were hidden below a giant hooded coat.

"Oh, you lucky girl. What more could you ask for?" Anita gushed. It was then you tore your gaze from Joe and watched Olive pull at a couple of Gwilym faux curls. It was a sweet sight, but Anita's pure swooning made your heart sink.

Between Gwilym and Olive, you were the picture of perfection. You appeared to have everything you'd ever wanted, but you had your sights on someone you'd never have a shot with in a million years. And for what? Just because he was so damn pretty? A pang of terrible, horrible guilt seeped into your being as you watch Brian approach Gwilym with some joke. You had everything you'd ever wanted. A whole family. How could you possibly think you deserved someone else, someone all your own? You were lucky enough as it were.

When Gwil scampered onto set, leaving you and Olive in the craft service area to mingle with the leftover stagehands, you took a deep breath and watched him walk away. You realized that even if your heart didn't hammer for the father of your child, he was always there when you needed him. And Gwilym obviously wanted you around all the same. You realized that you didn't have to be in love with him to be happy to have him.

Then and there, you decided that you were going to give this whole fake marriage deal your most real shot.

///

You traveled back to the home you'd made of your Airbnb around lunchtime, taking the long way to enjoy a pocket park you spotted a day ago. While you pushed Olive in a swing, your thoughts about your current situation kept wandering further away from logical sense as you tried to understand them.

You spent the rest of the afternoon reading books to your daughter and kicking yourself for sulking over selfish desires.

Gwilym finally arrived back long after bedtime, apologizing in a whisper when the commotion of his arrival stirred you from sleep. He looked well exhausted, rubbing a spot on the back of his neck with a wince as he kicked his shoes off.

"Come here, sit." You patted the edge of the queen-sized bed as Gwylim monitored your body language. He was a bit hesitant but because of the assured look in your eyes, he felt comfortable enough to follow your directions.

"Take that jacket off." You suggested. You'd done this once, but the circumstances were different. If Gwilym was put off now, you couldn't tell as he rid himself of a layer, only a thin white shirt between you and his tense muscles. You placed either hand on either of his shoulders and that was a green enough light for Gwilym to start talking.

He told you about his unusually long day and the little things that kept going wrong. You massaged his broad shoulders the best you could and felt his body relax under your touch.

You listened to his rambles of annoyance and exhaustion. The castmates he'd made fast friends of seemed to be beacons of bright white light over the long evening of work.

"Rami is just electric. It's impossible to feel poorly in his presence- I mean the guy just has this way about him." Gwilym laughed, humming in pleasure when your fingers dug into just the right spot of his back.

"Lucy is one lucky gal. They're a perfect match." You mentioned, slowing your massage when your fingers started to ache. Gwil went on after agreeing to your comment...

"And Ben is just so easy going. It's like, if he's doing alright then I should be doing alright." You agreed and admitted how you'd already felt close to Ben. Gwilym admitted to feeling the same when they'd first met, then he kept going... "And then there's Joe. He's just... Hey! He told me Olive said his name, today." Gwilym turned to you with a proud grin. "Why hadn't you mention that?"

Because, you'd promised yourself you wouldn't keep thinking of Joe, in order to avoid the way your palms grew sweaty when you did. So you'd forgotten to mention the incident, knowing if you spoke Joe's name it would probably come out through an embarrassing saccharine sigh.

Now, you just gave Gwil a nervous hum as you slipped your hands away from his shoulders. He kept a studying gaze set on you while you moved away, hoping he couldn't read your expression.

But Gwil knew that look. He'd only seen you pull that face a couple of times, during rom-coms you watched together, and once at a wedding he dragged you along to. And then, like some kind of psychic vision, Gwilym realized, that was the expression pressed among your features when you'd met Joe. When Gwilym was too busy sneaking up to steal his friend's hat to register your longing gaze, then. But everything seemed clear now...

"You like him." Gwil let out a bright laugh, like a kid at a slumber party who was way more excited to play truth or dare than anyone else.

There was no use lying to Gwil, he was the only one who'd been in on the whole truth, anyway. Complicating things by denying what he'd found out was pointless.

But there was also no point in having a conversation about it, like you could tell Gwilym wanted to. There wasn't anything to discuss.

"Go get cleaned up and get some sleep, Gwil." You spoke quietly, turning away from him completely.

He kept a watchful eye on you for a beat, before slowly floating toward the bathroom. And when he was alone with this new realization, Gwyilm felt a pang of regret for being so selfish. Who was he to hold you captive here in this rented flat? To call you someone you weren't? Why was his pride a priority? Why didn't you care about your own wants and desires? He hoped you realized you could call this thing off anytime you wanted...

As you turned off the bedside lamp your mind kept racing. Had you ever even been in love? How did you know what you wanted? Through the fog of your scattered thoughts, came a clear vision of the man you ran into a few nights ago.

You thought of Joe and the way he looked at you, how his glance said just as much as his carefully chosen words, when you met.

Why did Joe feel so compelled to greet you with such a loaded statement? Could he have possibly felt the same buzz in his chest as you felt when your eyes met? Did it even matter?

///

"We have a guest!" Gwilym called as he pushed past the front door.

You sat up a little from your slump on the floor where you'd been sorting through playing blocks that your daughter wasn't even paying attention to anymore.

You shouldn't have been surprised to see Joe walk in behind Gwil, both men laughing at something as they entered the room. Of course, you were expecting one of the cast- but, you still hadn't managed to quell the silly little feelings that fluttered in your chest for Joe.

"What a lovely surprise." You smiled, because it was still true that you were glad to see the guy. It had been a couple of days.

"Everyone went their separate ways today, I thought Joseph might enjoy some company outside of the studio."

Gwil reached for his friend's shoulder as you stood to your feet to meet them. It was a nice gesture. Rami had Lucy, and Ben had his family in the city. Even Gwil had someone to end each day with. Joe must have felt lonely, here on his own. And you hated to think he might have been.

"Well, you're just in time to fight over what's for lunch." You chuckled, gazing at Joe. It took all of your focus not to bask in the sparkle beaming from his deep colored eyes.

Gwilym went on saying apologizing for still not having gone grocery shopping, hating the thought of dining out again, but listed off all the best restaurants in the area.

Then, with a look that let you know he knew exactly what he was doing, Gwilym took Olive into the other room for a change, leaving you and Joe alone.

"I bet it's nice to have an early day off. I hear the shoots are getting more intense." You started in on a polite conversation, all while putting a few toys back where they belonged so you wouldn't have to look right at Joe.

It was easier when Gwil and Olive were around, they were your barrier. Now, you had to keep total control of letting your feelings show, without anything to project them toward.

Joe seemed none the wiser, leaning against the door frame of the small balcony, glancing out of the glass doors to the trees that reached above the iron of the railing.

"Yeah, you could say that." He let out a breath of a laugh. "Telling this band's story, the emotions run high."

Your conversation floated on like that, quite seamlessly. Joe eased into rambles about acting that saved you from speaking up and making a fool of yourself. You listened fondly, and nearly let yourself stare at his mouth as it moved to speak. But that's when Gwil reappeared with Olive wobbling to catch up with him, as he boisterously asked who was ready for lunch. Your daughter raised her little arm, and everyone's focus shifted to how freaking sweet she was.

The next thing you knew, you wound up on the terrace of some hip bistro. You settled into a conversation as quickly as you ordered meals and proceeded to have a surprisingly good time.

Gwil persuaded Joe to do most of the talking. Joe was good at carrying on, but it wasn't an annoying drone. He spoke about things he had a clear passion for. And when he paused to ask your own opinions, you pushed for him to keep speaking, instead. You could have listened forever, and not just because it was easier that way. The sound of Joe's voice was like music to your ears, something about him you could enjoy without giving yourself away.

When Gwil left to get drinks at the bar. He asked what either of you wanted, and you said nothing, hoping he'd come back sooner that way.

You weren't just going to blurt out a confession to Joe, but you were so afraid of chipping your resolve. Letting your gaze lingering too long. Saying the wrong thing when no one else was around to hear.

Thankfully, Olive was occupying the space between the two of you. And the second Gwil left, the kid threw her head back with a sorry groan.

"He'll be back." You reminded, reaching over to cease her whines as she melted into a puddle in her highchair.

As you attempted to assure your babe that there was no reason to fuss so theatrically, Joe leaned over on the other side of the table disappearing for a beat and popping back into view with something in his grasp.

It was Olive's favorite toy bat. Joe handed the plastic animal to Olive who took it as she sniveled. Your daughter must have dropped the thing during lunch and you hadn't at all noticed. But Joe did.

"Jesus, thank you." You let out a small laugh.

Joe grinned, shooing away your thanks. But his attempts at saving the day were barely passable- Olive had almost disregarded the toy completely.

"She's probably due for a nap." You sighed in all honesty, explaining how the surprise trip out had disrupted that schedule.

"Me too kid." Joe looked at Olive like they were on the same page.

"Joe." Olive perfectly and pathetically whimpered, reaching out to him. And without missing a beat, the guy reached back and let her fingers latch onto his. The sight of Olive holding Joe's hand would have melted your heart if it wasn't beating so fiercely.

"You don't have to- ya know," You began to give Joe a way out of his attempts to give into Olives demands of him, but he was already shaking his head before he cut you off.

"I don't mind. She's adorable." He chuckled warmly, watching Olive bring her favorite bat to her chest while her other hand stayed attached to Joe's.

And while your mind seemed to still and capture every little detail of the scene, he spoke up again.

"She looks a lot like you." As if that was a reason he was endeared to the baby.

And if the comment wasn't enough, his tone was all too reminiscent of when you'd run into meeting each other. You wondered if he'd meant any of what he said to you, that night.

Gwil floated back to the table with a drink for himself and his pal. You shot him a look, hoping he realized you were begging him never to abandon you with Joe ever again. Especially if he wanted this whole lie to work.

The alarm bells that whirred louder each second you'd been in left alone, faded when Joe started rambling to you and Gwil as a pair.

And then it was easy as ever, sharing stories, ideas, and laughs. Were you more yourself when Gwil was around or were you just better at hiding behind him? Whatever, you were having a good time.

In fact, Olive fell asleep in your lap while the three of you went on chatting for another hour or so.

When the afternoon was pushing into the evening, you decided to head home since the boys had another early day on set. And when Gwil walked ahead of everyone to fasten Olive in her car seat, your eye caught Joe's. His forest colored gaze on you was evocative of the first time you'd met. Maybe it was because Gwilym was so far ahead, and no one else was looking. Or maybe it was all in your head.

///

Gwilym dropped you at the Airbnb and left to drive Joe back to his. You settled in for the evening and went about your regular rountine; all while you wondered what kept Gwil so long.

He made it back as the night turned black, looking rather pleased with himself. If you had it your way; you would have gone to bed without speaking too directly. But as became the norm this week, Gwil was on another page, annoucing his way through the rented flat...

"So I've invited Joe on our next day off. I know we've been talking about going out for the day, I thought he'd like to tag along again." Gwil reported as he entered the room with a happy smile.

You knew Gwil's heart was in the right place. You knew he was only attempting to be a good friend. But you also knew Gwil knew of your feelings perfectly well, how they could threaten to turn this whole pretend game upside down. And he hadn't even asked you before he'd invited Joe dangerously close, again.

"Well alright." You grinned through a confused sigh, entirely busy rocking Olive to sleep to get too upset.

Gwil knew you were though. And he hadn't expected you to be.

"What's the matter? I thought you liked Joe." Gwilym wondered as he collected his bedclothes. Surely you'd be glad for the excuse to hang around the guy, right? That was the whole reason he invited him over today in the first place...

"That is the matter." You laughed, feeling defeated and defensive all at once.

If Gwil was so insistent on bringing his newfound friend around, you were going to really need to hone in on your connection to your fake husband. You were going to have to make it seem like you had with Gwil, what everyone really believed came naturally. And you were going to have to act like something spectacular didn't occur when Joe turned his attention to you.

And that sucked.

You shushed Gwilym for carrying on the conversation as Olive started to fall asleep. He left for the bathroom with a strange look on his face, like he was trying to solve an impossible equation.

Gwilym was in the shower, and your daughter was silent in her cot, and you couldn't stop thinking of Joe. It made you sick. The harder you tried to shake his image from your brain, the brighter it became. You shuffled into the kitchen for a glass of cold water but only ended up staring at the wall.

Gwilym found you there, in the middle of the kitchen, fixated on nothing. He spoke your name to grab your attention and shuffled cautiously to find out what your deal was.

"Andy said something to me once," You spoke up in the quiet. "After I had a real shite first date. I excepted the night to be magical. But it was shite. And Andy said, 'What if your love takes time? What if you fall for someone so slowly you don't even realize, till your eighty and sharing a house by the sea?'"

You waved your hands around, trying to connect dots with a tethered, imaginary string. It was a long shot. But you had to take it.

"Y/N, what are you saying?" Gwilym cautioned, pressing the heels of his hands down on the counter behind him as he calmly tried to rationalize your blabbering in the dark.

"I think you should kiss me." You looked toward Gwilym as an imaginary lightbulb flickered above your head. "Maybe... maybe we have what we didn't think we did before this whole thing started. And we won't know till we kiss. Until we try again."

You stood as if to challenge Gwil, and he was looking at you like he'd already watched this whole scene play out and was waiting for you to catch up. But you didn't dare blink until he did.

"Gwil... please. Just once." You practically begged, like a kid.

"Will that seriously make you feel better about this?" Gwil's face subtly twisted into concern, but he was moving toward the middle of the room, toward you.

You nodded quickly, looking up to Gwil as he stood to face you. You zeroed in on Gwilym's ocean colored eyes, searching for something you'd seen the likes of in there, before. Right when a familiar sheen flooded his gaze, Gwilym closed the gap. He cupped your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours.

Gwilym proceeded to kiss you like a Disney prince trying to wake up a damsel. His soft lips melded against yours, and your mouths both opened like clockwork, like back when you used to practice this together. You rested your palms on Gwilym's broad shoulders as he kissed you breathlessly. When his movements slowed, your grip ever so slightly tightened on his shoulders, trying to hold onto the moment.

Gwil's lips moved away from yours, but he held your arms in place, like trying to steady you after a big fall. Your insides mimicked the plummet from great heights, but you were on both feet and there was a draft where something warmer should have burned.

"Was that... what you wanted?" Gwilym asked wearily. Because he really must have already known the answer. You kept your grip on his shoulder and leaned your head against his collarbone; the world's most pathetic hug.

"You're a damn good kisser." You sighed, but not longingly. You handed this statement out like a congratulatory honorable mention ribbon. There were no winners tonight. Gwilym slowly enclosed you in a real hug, smoothing back your hair and heaving his own sorry sigh. He brought either of his hands to the sides of your head and pressed one last lingering kiss to your forehead as a sadly bubbling frustration brewed inside you.

"Maybe... we better come clean, yeah?" Gwilym lightly suggested, rubbing your arms and looking to you as if nothing had just happened, as if nothing changed. It hadn't. "And then, maybe Joe-"

"No." You really couldn't let him finish that sentence. "No, Gwilym. You have to finish this movie without any drama. I'll just get over myself and by the time we leave for home I'll be fine, and no one will have any reason to believe otherwise."

"Y/n." Gwilym seemed to warn. His grip loosely fell away from you as you started to leave the kitchen.

"Just come to bed, please." You gestured toward the quiet room. "We can't be normal, Gwil."

But you could go on pretending, like always. Because Gwilym was an actor. And you wanted what you saw in him badly enough to keep playing along.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

taglist: @sonic-volcano @imtheinvisiblequeen @redspecialty @itscale @stardust-killer-queen @joemazzelo @dancetohotspace @kiwi-hardy @joeneslee @borhapqueen92 @im-an-adult-ish @johndeaconshands @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye @beepbeephardy @slutforbritdick @joemazzmatazz @almightygwil

#gwilym lee #gwilym lee x reader #gwilym lee fanfic #gwilym lee imagine #joe mazzello #joe mazzelo x reader #joe mazzello fanfic #joe mazzello imagine

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soloplaying · 3 years

Text

Don’t Starve: RoG

I wasn’t going to make a post for this one. It was supposed to be a chill evening game to waste time for a couple hours. All of the settings were on normal and Wilson was as ready to go as he ever is. Honestly, I didn’t expect to live very long.

270 in-game days (nearly four in-game years) later...

Not as uneventful as expected!

...The giants are still assholes. Especially the mysteriously teleporting Bearger. Feast your eyes on its handiwork:

Highlights of the game below the cut:

Year 1:

Found a winter set piece (fridge, chest of winter gear, thermometer)! It’s like the obsidian staff and circle in Shipwrecked; opening that fridge is a mistake you only make once. I destroyed it with a hammer during the first winter.

No bearger or moose-goose and the dragonfly despawned before I could actually fight it. I took down the deerclops pretty easily, though. Good thing because that was the only time I saw it during the entire game.

Got two meat effigies up in record time. Another good thing because, even though I didn’t need in them in Y1, I needed both of them very early in Y2.

Made an Old Bell after a rampaging beefalo in heat took out Glommer in my camp.

Discovered that there are ZERO mandrakes in the world. Every square inch of the surface has been explored since then, not a single scrap of the map is blacked out. No mandrakes.

Took out the first walrus group with ease and the MacTusk dropped the Tam O’Shanter and tusk. Since then, my tusk walking stick has become my most valuable item.

Year 2:

I realized that I wasn’t going anywhere soon so started looking into the more resource-intensive crafting items.

Bee boxes. Evil bees.

The bearger put in its first appearance and was way more trouble than I expected. Not only did it kill me when I didn’t realize my armor had broken, but when I respawned at a meat effigy in my camp, it teleported to my location and was there to greet me when I cracked out. It destroyed half of my camp before the honey in my fridge put it to sleep and I was able to call on Big Foot to stomp it. I don’t remember it being able to teleport to my location before...

I died again a few minutes later when night fell and I found that (a) I didn’t have the resources to make a fire or torch anymore and (b) the bearger had destroyed my fire pit. I had to kill a beefalo to make a new meat effigy the next day.

The moose-goose was more trouble than necessary. It came down from a forest towards my camp during the evening so I had to fight it after dark, then a pack of hounds attacked me at the same time. Oh, and we were in the beefalo prairie right next to my spider nests. Eh, I got hurt more than expected and my sanity tanked, but I didn’t die and I kept the moose-goose from laying eggs. Success!

The dragonfly despawned as soon as it was out of sight. Again.

No deerclops for whatever reason. I found the clockworks while preparing for its arrival, though! Plenty of gears to go around, after that.

Mines...? I don’t remember if I descended into the depths in Y2 or early Y3.

Year 3:

Bearger and dragonfly mysteriously despawned once they were out of sight, this time. Deerclops didn’t bother to show up again and the moose-goose was ridiculously easy to take down. It didn’t even break my armor or make a dent in my health.

I finished exploring the surface (literally everything is filled in on the map, now) and most of the first layer of the caves. About...85%? There are gaps in the middle of swamp and cave spider areas but I really have no interest in filling those in. I already have the opening to the deeper depths and I’ve been cheap-shotted by enough nightmare beaks in my time.

Did I mention I got cheap-shotted by nightmare beaks and crawling nightmares? At least the depths worms haven’t been awful.

Explored the second layer of the depths during multiple full nightmare cycles. The whole map has been outlined and the labyrinth is fully explored.

...Unsurprisingly, the Ancient Guardian murdered me a lot.

Finished crafting everything necessary for survival and setting up supply chains. Started working on magic stuff - most of which I have never and will never use.

Year 4:

Finished crafting all of the recipes I care to. Anything left either requires seasonal ingredients or materials from the giants.

When I went hunting for slurper pelts, I found an unnervingly high number just laying around on the ground. Do depths worms murder slurpers while the player isn’t down there?

The bearger pulled its whole ‘teleporting to the player’ schtick again and magically appeared in the middle of my camp after I left it fighting tree guards in a forest a ways away. I intended to fight it the normal way (helmet, armor, tentacle spike) but then it murdered Glommer and Chester. I said ‘screw it’, froze it with my ice staff, and called Bigfoot to whack it. Twice. Now I have an insulated pack.

Everything but three farms was destroyed. Everything. See the picture above? That’s from this catastrophe. I took the opportunity to clean up and reorganize afterwards, but my enthusiasm was gone.

Deerclops was a no-show again and the moose-goose either followed its example or it’s going to appear in the last few days of spring. I’m not into summer so the Dragonfly hasn’t put in an appearance but I assume it will spawn and immediately despawn again.

Oh, also, I died to an eye plant for the first time ever. I wasn’t paying attention, sped down the path with my walking stick and sanity gear (Tam O’Shanter and...I don’t remember. Either a breezy vest or dapper vest. Raincoat’s also a possibility. Something with no armor value.) and I was in the middle of them before I realized they were there. Two eyes grabbed me, one on each hand, and the others pulled me down. At least I was only, like, ten feet from my base.

I’ve done everything worth doing on the surface, the only thing left in the caves is exploring what few dark spaces remain, and there’s plenty to do in the depths but I have no interest in messing with the Ancient Research Stations, the Ancient Guardian, or the Nightmare Cycles.

Other:

I haven’t exhausted the game’s potential, but I really don’t want to mess with the depths this time. I’ve done that and it never stops being annoying. I also don’t want to wait for the giants to spawn so I can get their materials - that would take ages. And I’m not going to spawn anything in on the sly - possible or not, I’m playing this straight so that would be cheating.

The only thing left is moving on to a different world but I’m not interested; I think I’m played out. It’ll be a bit before I play Don’t Starve again.

#Don't Starve #Wilson #Don't Starve: Reign of Giants #Don't Starve: RoG #The bearger killed Glommer and Chester #So I took drastic action #Bigfoot was happy to back me up #270 days

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faroreswinds · 4 years

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Data Mining Activities & Quotes Analysis: Sylvain

As per what I said before, I want to look deeper into data mining for funsies and just see what I can spot.

Today’s character is: Sylvain!

As a little disclaimer, I won’t be doing all his quotes because that’s a LOT! Instead, I’m just going to focus on stuff I think is interesting to look at, like particular classroom questions, or his lost items, or whatever. One day, I’ll probably get into the chapters individually but today is just to focus on one character. I’ll also update this as I find more stuff, as a small heads-up. If you find something that I missed, feel free to let me know and I’ll update the post as well.

Ok, so let’s get into it!

Check out more from this series of analysis here. They will be updated over time.

Basics- Battle

Most of the battle quotes aren’t interesting, and the data mining does not include the voiced lines without text so I had to turn to the wiki page. That said, there were a few Post Time Skip Defeat the Enemy quotes he says I find particularly interesting:

"Don't bother haunting me."

"Burn until we meet again."

Based on Annette’s support with Claude, we know the Kingdom has a particularly interesting view on the afterlife. I won’t go into the details here- instead, I will be making a Kingdom focused page for all things cultural that will cover it- but the talk of “burning” and “haunting” go along with their beliefs.

Not to mention, it is very, very dark. And Sylvain, despite his carefree attitude, has got a dark and gritty view of life. He’s smiling on the outside, but he will have no qualms with taking you down.

Basics- Cooking and Choir

Sylvain just has no interest in either of these things, as per his quotes:

Cooking Together

Part I: Cooking... Cooking... Heh. Well, it'll all work out somehow...maybe.

Part II: If you just follow the recipe, most things will come out fine. I think.

Choir Practice

It's hard to sneak out when the professor is watching.

Share a Meal- Dining Dialogue

Sylvain only has two people he has quotes with during meal time: Ingrid and Dimitri. Surprisingly, not Felix, despite having an ending with him and not an ending with Dimitri. His quotes with Ingrid are just cute, but I think his quotes with Dimitri have some nice little insights:

Support C

Sylvain: You know what, Professor? His Highness here is the most stubborn guy I know.

Dimitri: Now, Sylvain, why not go ahead and eat? If you do not, I may help myself to it.

Support B

Sylvain: By the way, how delicious are the monastery meals, right? We sure don't eat like this back in the Kingdom.

Dimitri: I agree. If we could only grow more food on our poor soil, and in the severe winter of the north...

Sylvain has a lot of quotes, including from FEH and from his support with Dimitri, that pertain to wanting Dimitri to relax (and that he’s too stubborn to). This goes hand in hand with the relationship chart that came out from Nintendo Dream some time back:

I wish I could link this picture to the original translator, but I don’t know who did it. But as you can see, Sylvain wants Dimitri to relax.

The quotes from support B gives some insight into the Kingdom, about how they just don’t eat like they do at the monastery because the winter of the north is so severe and it’s hard to grow food.

Sylvain’s default responses aren’t particularly interesting, except for:

Neutral: I realized it after I got to the monastery—nobody in Faerghus knows how to cook.

Basically saying that the food at the monastery is particularly good. This goes well with Faerghus having poor yields of food in general.

Share a Meal- Favorite/ Least Favorite Foods

Sylvain seems to have a pension for fish, as based on his favorite foods. Nearly every dish he loves is fish based, except for one with is a meal for two dish (obviously a philandering thing), a few white meat dishes, and the Sweet Bun Trio, which is a Faerghus sweet. Except for the Sweet Bun Trio, all his favorites have meat, which makes sense because colder climates tends to lend to meat dishes to maintain the calories needed to maintain body heat. The dishes with fish include Teutates Loach (a fish from the Kingdom), White Trout, Airmid Pike, and Albinean Herring.

He has few dishes he doesn’t like, which all happen to be seafood based except for one. The fish meals are not described as particularly tasty, or they are extremely simple without much preparation. The only non-fish meal he doesn’t like is the Beast Meat Teppenyaki, which is described to have a wilderness taste- and he probably doesn’t like it due to history he may have with his brother.

Interestingly, he doesn’t seem to have an interest in Gautier Cheese Gratin, which has cheese from his region.

Gifts and Lost Items

Sylvain, of course, does have some items/like certain gifts that pertain to the philanderer in him. These include:

Gift: Dapper Handkerchief- A handkerchief adorned with refined embroidery. Appreciated by fashionable men .

Lost Item: Unused Lipstick- Lipstick that would make an ideal gift for a young lady. It probably belongs to someone who likes wooing women.

Lost Item: Crumpled Love Letter- A carelessly discarded love letter. It probably belongs to someone with a complicated love life.

Sylvain clearly takes an interest in fashion, as well as his womanizing ways leaking into his lost items. We can see his casual nature when it comes to wooing the girls with the fact that the lost letter is “carelessly discarded”.

But the rest of the gifts/ lost items paint Sylvain’s other side:

Gift: Landscape Painting- A landscape painting of magnificent Lake Teutates in the clearing fog. Appreciated by those who enjoy nature or art.

Gift: Board Game- A fun activity in which players compete using stones on a board. Appreciated by those who enjoy tactical thinking.

Lost Item: The History of Sreng- A book recording the history of the Sreng people. It probably belongs to someone who has ties to Sreng.

Despite his carefree side, many of us know that Sylvain is actually incredibly smart and takes an interest in making positive changes and taking his job seriously. The board game shows he enjoys tactical thinking, and his lost item, the History of Sreng, shows he is taking an interest in local politics and is keen to learn. As for the Landscape Painting, we can see that Sylvain enjoys art (as you will see later), and that he’s not all about women and lazing about.

As for his disliked gifts:

Gift: Book of Crest Designs- A book containing the designs of 21 identified Crests. Appreciated by those who enjoy studying Crests.

Gift: Watering Can- A tool used for watering plants. Appreciated by those who enjoy gardening.

Gift: Floral Adornment- Flowers cut short so they can be worn decoratively. Appreciated by most ladies and those who like gardening.

Obviously, thanks to Sylvain’s history, disliking Crest-related gifts is no surprise. However, he also doesn’t seem to have an interesting in gardening, as he is not keen on the gardening-related gifts.

Classroom- Instruct

Sylvain has three study requests:

You know, jousting is a popular sport in Faerghus. The ladies love a guy who can joust. Speaking of... Let's polish up my riding and lance skills.

The best way to impress people is to save them by diving into harm's way. That's what a Great Knight does, yeah? So let's focus on my axe and heavy armor skills.

I want to study reason and faith. What, surprised? Hey, I may be rough around the edges, but that doesn't mean I can't appreciate a little magic!

We learn a few things from these:

Jousting is popular in Faerghus. Makes sense for a knight-based nation.

Sylvain seemingly wants to impress people by diving in harm’s way. But based on his general attitude, I think he really actually wants to just protect people and is pretending it’s all about the ladies.

Sylvain wants to learn magic, both faith and reason.

He also does not liked to be consoled- he wants critique to improve himself.

Critique

Part I & Part II: I'll have to do better next time.

Console

Part I & Part II: OK. You can stop it.

Classroom- Questions and Answers

Sylvain has two questions he can ask in the classroom:

This is from the academy phase, and we can see that Sylvain prefers it if you tell him to basically play hard to get. There are some interesting things regarding Ingrid’s dislike here, but this is about Sylvain... and apparently, he doesn’t want to change and doesn’t like it if you tell him to clean up his act. (Ingrid likes it, though).

This one is from part two. Of course, it pertains to the war, and how depressing it is, and wants something to do to feel a bit better. Funnily enough, the other infamous nobles Ferdinand and Lorenz join him for this one! We can see they all have different tastes, but Sylvain is not interested in a cup of tea, but would rather ask out a girl. He’s not against talking a walk though, but no one seems to actually like it either.

There are other questions that Sylvain joins in on, but I will add those when I eventually get to them. For now, I will just start with these two and update later.

Group Tasks

Similar to the dining dialogue, Sylvain only has quotes with Dimitri and Ingrid, and not Felix despite having an ending with him. That said, Sylvain has more dialogue with Ingrid than Dimitri, so we will start with Dimitri first:

Stable Duty & Sky Watch

Support C

Sylvain: So, Your Highness, you're gonna keep the scolding to a minimum, yeah?

Dimitri: Why are you assuming you will be scolded? All you need to do is take things seriously.

Support B

Dimitri: Hey, Sylvain. I would like your help for today's work.

Sylvain: Heh, so you've finally learned you can't do everything yourself?

Results

Support C - Good

Sylvain: Professor... It's... It's finally over...

Dimitri: You are quick to tire out, Sylvain. You should consider building your stamina.

Support C - Perfect

Dimitri: Professor, the work is now complete. Sylvain did his job as well.

Sylvain: Was getting yelled at my job? Because, yeah. I did that.

Support B - Good

Sylvain: The result was fine... Though I thought we could have aimed even higher.

Dimitri: Agreed. Let's come up with a better plan next time.

Support B - Perfect

Sylvain: Professor, don't you think we did pretty well? His Highness here did most of it.

Dimitri: No, it was not all my doing. We made it thanks to your help, Sylvain.

These occur only when you pair them for stable duty and sky watch, which would be both activities the pair would find common interests in due to their personal budding talents and canon classes. We can see that Dimitri wants Sylvain to take things seriously, and Sylvain takes a more playful approach. Sylvain will also comment on Dimitri learning to not shoulder everything on his own, calling back a bit to Sylvain’s concern over Dimitri not being able to relax.

Sylvain seems to be annoyed early on at Dimitri’s constant scolding, but this changes when their support improves, the two of them praising each other and hoping to improve together.

Now for Ingrid:

Stable Duty & Sky Watch

Support C

Sylvain: Ugh, I'm with Ingrid? I'm not gonna get away with anything.

Ingrid: Stop messing around and get moving. You don't work, you don't eat.

Support B

Sylvain: Hey, Ingrid, this kind of work is definitely your thing, and I've got some urgent business, so...

Ingrid: I can't finish this all alone. Try to be helpful sometimes, Sylvain.

Support A

Sylvain: Me and Ingrid? Hm, I guess I'll get to work.

Ingrid: Well now, a rare and welcome proclamation. You're a real sight to behold when you try to be.

Weeding

Sylvain: Weeds have it tough. They sprout then get ripped right out of the ground. I'll do my best to be gentle.

Ingrid: Are you seriously trying to seduce a weed? Unbelievable.

Sylvain: What? No! Come on. I was just talking to myself.

Clearing Rubble

Sylvain: If I had to clear this out by myself, I think even I would get depressed...

Ingrid: Fine, fine, I'm not going to leave it all for you.

Sylvain: Let's do it quick though...before I change my mind. I'll grab the heavy-looking chunks. You get the rest.

Results

Support C - Good

Ingrid: Ah, seems we've finally finished.

Sylvain: That's it! I'm done! No more work for me, especially not with her...not in a million years.

Support C - Perfect

Sylvain: Hey, we did pretty well. All because I really went for it, of course.

Ingrid: You're a glib one, aren't you, Sylvain? I did the bulk of the work here, you know...

Support B - Good

Sylvain: I wouldn't call it a rousing success, but it went OK, all things considered. Right?

Ingrid: Well, it went OK once I rolled up my sleeves and helped you.

Support B - Perfect

Sylvain: Heh... How's that, Professor? If ya ask me, I think we did pretty well.

Ingrid: Yes, Sylvain put his back into it for once. Next thing we know, pigs will be taking to the air.

Support A - Good

Sylvain: I don't want to complain since we did OK and all, but that could have gone a lot better.

Ingrid: I think so too... Next time, I'll try even harder.

Support A - Perfect

Ingrid: Professor, here's the report. Perfect, don't you think?

Sylvain: Ingrid and I go way back. If we couldn't manage to cooperate, then what would that say about us?

Sylvain and Ingrid have dialogue no matter what they do. We can see, especially in the stable and sky watch, that at first they don’t really get along. Sylvain is tired of Ingrid’s pestering and Ingrid is tired of Sylvain being lazy. But as their support goes up, we see that they get along better. Ingrid starts praising Sylvain, and Sylvain starts putting more effort in.

Sylvain also seems to be a bit melancholy about the weeds, noting that they start to take life before someone takes takes it away from them.

Finally, just some fun default stuff.

Uses keigo when speaking to

Byleth, Edelgard, Dimitri, Seteth, Hanneman, Manuela, Gilbert, Alois, Catherine, Shamir, Jeralt, Rhea, Jeritza, Anna

Spoken to with keigo by

Bernadetta, Dorothea, Petra, Ashe, Ignatz, Lysithea, Marianne, Flayn, Constance

“Keigo” is polite speech, used when addressing people who are in a station in life above you, whether in title or simply out of respect. For instance, he uses keigo for those who are older than him and teachers, like Manuela and Hanneman, and for those who are in higher stations, like Dimitri or Edelgard.

Those who speak keigo to him consider him of higher status, or someone worthy of respect. Looking at this list, I would say status.

Tea Party- Favorite Tea

The Tea Party is a pretty big section, so I won’t cover everything but I’ll try to touch on what seems important. Feel free to let me know if you notice more!

Anyways, Sylvain seems to have a pension for black teas, although not all black teas listed in the game. He prefers Bergamot Tea (commonly known as Earl Grey) which is popular among nobles (he shares this like with Edelgard, Lorenz, Hanneman, Constance, and Anna, most of whom are nobles, and in particular are nobles with particular taste) and Seiros Tea, another black tea that is actually from south Almyra, interestingly enough! He shares this like with Ferdinand, Lorenz, Ignatz, Yuri, and Anna. Both of these teas have a three star rarity- not the cheapest tea in the list, but not terribly rare either.

He will note that the tea is expensive if you give him an expensive tea, and perhaps seems a bit uncomfortable with you going out of your way.

This tea must have been expensive. I'm sorry if I made you go out of your way.

Tea Party- Talk

Sylvain has a number of quotes from talking, although most of them aren’t too terribly interesting. However, some have some great insight:

Is something wrong with my face? A bruise on my cheek? Heh... Nah, Professor. Everything's fine.

Everyone has their own reason to fight. At least I'm honest about mine.

Opera, art, literature, I love 'em. They always give you something to talk about.

Sometimes, I'm surprised how warm the monastery is. I wish my parents' home was like this.

Sylvain is an interesting guy because in some ways, he’s not honest and in others, he is. For instance, he insists that you do not worry about his injury. Don’t worry about him. He’s not being honest about any pain he has- this includes his distastes for a lot of women chasing him despite his philandering. However, he is honest in others in his world views. He’s a lot like Dimitri when it comes to trying to see the other side, as seen in “everyone has their own reason to fight”. This is displayed in his other quotes throughout the game too, although we won’t be touching on those.

As as per the gift of art he likes, we can see here that he’s actually very much into culture and art. He likes them, and likes to talk about them.

And finally, some insight into his family. Sylvain’s relationship with his father is complex (as per the Blue Lion tradition) and here we can see that he doesn’t view his family home as warm- both perhaps literally in that it’s a cold climate, and figuratively.

I won’t be going over the like options because there are too many, but I will take note of a few options that make him blush:

Working together...

The opera...

Cute monks...

Some insight things into Sylvain. Obviously, as he likes the opera, the topic of it will be among his favorite. Sylvain likes people working together (although he himself is a bit of a loner, he wants people to work together and talk things through like Dimitri does) and finally, the cute monks...

I’m taking special note of that because in English, traditionally monks are male. However, the game seems to use monks for both men and women (monks in Greek can be used for both), and the Japanese word used instead is 修道士. Someone with superior Japanese can correct me, but it would seem that this is a masculine word, used for men, especially when using the kanji 士, which means “gentlemen” or “samurai”.

However, as stated before, the game uses monk for both men and women. I checked the files and even the female monks use 修道士. So, while people claim this is proof he is bi, I would not call it a strong indicator personally (At this time I still think he has a thing for Felix, don’t get me wrong).

Advice Box

Part I

I wonder if I'll ever find a partner who understands I don't mean any harm when I flirt with others. Does someone like that really exist?

You're bound to meet someone open-minded someday.

That's a dream that will never come true.

Have you considered giving up on flirting?

I'm hesitant to invite a girl to my room in the middle of the night with You Know Who living right next door. I'm terrified of the scolding I'd get the next day.

Maybe I'll rethink the room assignments.

It makes sense that she would be angry with you.

Perhaps it's time you and I discussed your behavior.

Part II

I'm weary from this ceaseless fighting. I wonder if I'll ever meet a kind, beautiful young lady who can cure my hardened heart.

You will one day. I'm sure of it.

Save the dreams for when you're sleeping.

A woman like that wouldn't go for you.

All we do is battle. The fighting never stops, and it's turning everyone's disposition dour. Even the ladies! We should throw a banquet to lift everyone's spirit.

Good idea. I'll see what I can do.

It's too soon to let down our guard.

How selfless of you.

Part I notes aren’t too interesting, other than that Sylvain is worried about Dimitri (his neighbor in dorms) hearing his rendezvous with the ladies and getting a scolding.

Part II is more interesting. Sylvain’s second note is about lifting up everyone’s spirits regarding the war, and that throwing a banquet might help make everyone feel better. He prefers if Byleth agrees and will start to make arrangements, rather than getting praise for his selflessness.

And for now, that’s all! I will update as I go, but for now I hope you enjoyed this!

Suggestions and new info welcome.

#Sylvain data mining #data mining #3H data mining

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falseroar · 4 years

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Silent Watch Part 2: Into the Woods

((Just two young people, discussing their hopes and fears. In the woods. At night. Actually, this part is a fairly short and quiet heart to heart. I’ve always liked the idea that JJ is British, so that’s why he has that accent instead of an Irish one.

Link to Part 1 here.))

You soon reached the trailers and cars set up around the set and slowed down long enough to call out, “Mr. Jackson? Jameson?”

There was no answer as you wandered among the trailers, guided more by your memory than what little the moonlight overhead could do, and you found yourself reaching into your pocket to feel the familiar weight of the pocket watch there, the raised lines of the elaborate metalwork on its cover.

It was the single most precious thing you owned, the memory of the giver almost as important as the spell on it designed to protect its bearer. Everyone in your town possessed a ward of some kind, only a maniac would risk going out without one.

But then, most of the cast and crew had come from the cities, where sealed walls and regular patrols kept them safe. For them, the stories of what lurked in the woods near your town were just legends or things that happened to other people. You remembered some of the actors and actresses even laughing about the warnings the town had given them before filming, calling the crew who left before dark superstitious or lazy.

You had been one of those to always work as late as possible, but that was only because you needed the money and you trusted the warded watch to keep you safe.

Now, as you caught sight of the figure in the distance walking along the tree line, shoulders still hunched with his hands in his pockets as he kicked away a stone, you gripped the silver pocket watch and took a deep, steadying breath before running after him.

As long as you had the watch, you were safe. Jameson, on the other hand…

“Mr. Jackson! Jameson, wait!”

He didn’t hear you, and you cursed under your breath as you ran under the shade of the hanging limbs and stumbled through a clinging bush before finding the trail barely visible in the moonlight. Minutes later, you spotted the bright blue vest on the trail up ahead and this time, when you called, he turned around.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked, staring in surprise as you ran right up to him and gave him a shove, made harder by how far he made you chase him. “Ow!”

“What am I—What are you doing, going off into the woods, at night, without even a ward to protect you?” You gasped for breath but still had enough to add, “You idiot!”

“A what?” he asked, and you nearly hit him again.

“A ward, a protective charm, something, these woods are dangerous even in the daytime, you can’t just go wandering off alone—”

Jameson seemed surprised at your words, but that’s not what made you pause when he looked around, as though astonished to find himself so far within the trees that neither the party nor the town could be seen anymore.

It was dark, and you might have been tempted to write off the red in Jameson’s eyes as tiredness or maybe even from a drink or two from the party, but something in the slump of his shoulders, in the way that he wouldn’t quite look at you…

“Have you been crying?”

Jameson looked as though he were going to argue, but then sighed and sat down on the raised root of a tree. “Is it that obvious?”

You hesitated before sitting down next to him, trying to ignore the desire to get out of here and back to the safety of the others. After an awkward silence where you tried to figure out what to say, you decided to just ask, “…Do you want to talk about it?”

Jameson chuckled. “Not really.”

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his dark mustache that you suspected might be fake, his feet tapping on the ground as though sitting still for even a moment was too much to ask, and then blurted out anyways, “I’ve never lost my temper like that before, I swear, I don’t know what came over me, I just…”

His fingers interlocked and twisted together while he worked himself up to continuing, and when he did you noticed that his voice sounded...different. You hadn’t noticed it before, but apparently Jameson had been faking a generic American accent. Now, either because he had forgotten or was too upset to keep it up, you could hear the vowels and emphasis on certain words shifting, sounding more British if you had to guess, although you couldn’t narrow it down more than that.

You realized, despite all of the fame he had gained, despite the responsibility of owning and running his own studio, despite the larger than life character he played on the screen and in front of everyone else, he really wasn’t that much older than you. It wasn’t something that had occurred to you until you heard the soft sniffle before he spoke.

“Have you ever hoped and worked so hard for something, and been terrified that you might lose it all, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it?”

“…I can imagine.”

You could feel his stare on you, prompting you to explain further even if you would rather not.

After a long silence and some fidgeting of your own, you managed to wrestle out the words, “I’ve wanted to be a lawyer, ever since…for a long time. And there’s this college with a great law school that could make that happen, and I got in.”

You felt the pride at those last three words, and the familiar sting of the ones that followed. “But it’s expensive, and I don’t…I think I can make it, there are scholarships and I have a meeting with the admissions officer in a few months—”

But if it wasn’t enough…You swallowed, trying to banish those thoughts before they could start to spiral again.

Jameson exhaled, his silhouette in the darkness looking up at the branches overhead. “It’s always money, isn’t it?”

You started to ask what that’s supposed to mean before recalling one of the actresses’ words. “Is your studio really out of money?”

Jameson shrugged. “We might as well be. Near every dime I’ve had has gone into this studio, and even that hasn’t been enough, not with one disaster after another.”

He opened his hand and began to list them off on his fingers. “Studio fire, burned three sets to the ground and took sixty feet of film with it. Film that’s just gone missing or been corrupted. Red tape every time I turn around, permits that were signed and filed but suddenly can’t be found just when we start rolling. Stars coming down with the flu and setting schedules back weeks. I’ve lost count of how many studio hands have been injured and sent home with broken bones or concussions, or how many close calls I’ve had myself.”

He pulled back the collar of his shirt and you could just make out the white line of a bandage before he let it drop back into place with another heavy sigh.

“At this rate, the best I can hope for is that this movie makes enough to pay off the bank. No wonder that lousy muckraker thinks I’m cursed.”

“That’s what he said to you?”

“Among other things.” Jameson considered and then shook his head, apparently having decided against sharing some of the more colorful language with you. “Of course, once word gets out how bad the studio’s doing, no one’s going to want to touch us. The pictures are booming, so what does that say about a studio that has managed to bust at every turn? I had to pull every last string I had just to get the cast and crew for this film, and then shoot it out in the middle of nowhere because it’s the only site we could afford. No offense.”

“What, that you called this place the middle of nowhere? Why do you think I want to get out of here so bad?”

Well, it was one reason.

You watched Jameson out of the corner of your eye, taking in the slumped figure of the nearly broken man beside you before coming to a decision.

“I think I know a way to break your curse.”

((End of Part 2. Thank you for reading, and I’m really glad the first part seems to have gone over well. These quiet moments are nice, while they last.

Link to Part 3.

Tagging: @silver-owl413 @skyewardlight @withjust-a-bite @blackaquokat @catgirlwarrior @neverisadork @luna1350 @oh-so-creepy @weirdfoxalley @95fangirl @lilalovesinternet-l @thepoolofthedead @a-bit-dapper @randomartdudette @geekymushroom @cactipresident @hotcocoachia @purple-anxiety-blog @shyinspiredartist @avispate @missksketch))

#markiplier #jacksepticeye #fanfiction #wkm district attorney #jameson jackson #magic au #werewolf au #monster hunter au #money issues #hopes and fears #angst #jameson really just needs a hug #but some confidence is good too

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queenmuzz · 4 years

Text

Deep Blue Sea; Chapter II: Steel Grey

A bit of a wordy chapter today. The full story is also available on Ao3 for easier reading

******

You attempted not to look too eager as you walked up the stairs to the stage as your name was called, to receive your diploma. Ten years of hard work, sleepless nights, typing up essays, studying, and research had finally paid off to reward you with your ultimate reward: a PhD in Marine Biology. Of course, you knew you had it easier than most, bankrolled by your wealthy father, you never needed to worry about going hungry and studying, or risking a fail mark in order to deliver pizzas or something.

But you couldn't help but feel proud, you'd finally done it! You'd been wanting to study Marine Biology since you were a little girl, especially when you found out that there were creatures that lived even in pitch darkness on the ocean floor. What amazing discoveries must be waiting for you down there! Of course, you were realistic in that you'd probably never be able be the crew member of ALVIN, or any of the other deep-sea-submersibles, but your assistance would be invaluable to understanding the farthest edges of earthly exploration.

You paused for a moment while the Dean handed you the parchment, and you stared out at the the crowd. The lights shining down on the stage made the audience completely invisible, but the flash of camera lights from a certain section was a good indication where your family and loved ones were. You posed and smiled for their cameras for a few moments, before getting off the stage, terrified you were going to trip on your long flowing robe. So you sat down and politely clapped as each of your fellow graduates had their moment in the spotlight.

After the ceremony, it didn't take long for you to find your guests sitting right where you guessed they were. Your parents, as per usual, were sitting as far as part as possible, but had remained civil to each other, so that was good. Between them sat Sarah, your best friend, and... Frederick, looking as dapper as always, yet nervous as hell. You'd met via your dad's business connections, he was the son of a wealthy fish processing company that your father did regular business with. You always sensed that both your and his parents were gently nudging you to be with each other. Fredrick (never Fred, always the full name) always seemed to be invited to gatherings that your mother or father arranged, and vice versa with his parents and you. So, eventually... you both started dating, much to the delight of everyone. He was pleasant enough, always a gentleman, but there was something missing...

“I'm so happy!” Your mother placed her hands on both of your cheeks and squeezed to an almost uncomfortable degree. “You've done it!”

“Now, now Carolyn, let the girl breathe, she's had a busy day today.” and your father pushed her aside (earning a slight scowl from his ex-wife) before enveloping you in a big hug. “You've made me a very proud father today. I know I can expect great things from you.” He pulled away and joked, “Now, you can work on that Bachelor's degree in Business.”

“Charles!”

“It was a joke, Carolyn”

“OHMYGAAWD! THIS IS AWESOME! Now you can tell people to address you as 'Doctor'!” Sarah screeched as she nearly bowled you over.

“Yes, because I spent a decade of my life just so I could get 'Dr.' on all my stationary,” you remarked dryly.

“Oh yeah, we better get on that. You could design a whole new template!” she replied, completely oblivious to your sarcasm. You loved her to bits, but sometimes... you wondered about her.

Fredrick pulled you away from her into a polite embrace and a chaste kiss. “I'm so happy for you, my dear. You've finally achieved your dream” his smile was sincere and you couldn't help yourself from pulling him closer to you. Having him near you made the rest of the bustle of the world dim slightly.

But of course, things like this could never last, as your father's voice intruded..

“As much as I'd like to stay here and celebrate, I've made reservations at Figaroni's in an hour. We should be able to beat the traffic and get there in time.” Semi-reluctantly, you separated from your boyfriend, and the five of you made your way out of the auditorium past the multitude of families of every shape and size, each celebrating the achievements of their loved ones.

*****

“Ever since I've known you, you've always been in love with with mermaids” Sarah said, standing up and regaling the table with an embarrassing tale disguised as a toast. This had to be her third drink, if the fact that the champagne sloshed a bit from side to side indicated anything. “Brittany was known as 'horse girl', Jessica was known as the 'Ballet girl',” and you,” she grinned, “you got the name of 'Mermaid girl' once Timothy got a hold of your note book, filled to the brim with mermaid drawings.”

She wasn't wrong, you'd had a lifelong fascination of anything mer-related since your childhood. Mermaid figurines, mermaid dolls, mermaid movies were things you were obsessed about Of course, everyone thought it was one of your endearing quirks. But no one knew the real cause of your fascination with them....and to be truthful, you weren't sure you were, either.

“That's not a bad thing!” she clarified “Because of that obsession, you've pushed yourself to greater, and greater heights, and now...” she dabbed her eyes with the linen napkin as she sniffled “I'm so happy I got to see your entire journey. A toast to your future, and I hope it will be 'fin-filling'!”

Polite 'Hear Hear's', and the clinking of glasses followed, and you took a tiny sip of the bubbly drink. In truth, you were ready to go home. Usually you preferred the solitude, only shared by close friends and family, and only for a limited amount of time. But this was an exception, and you would deal with it, just for tonight as you smiled politely at your guests. Your mother and father had been on their best behaviour, even if they were sitting on the opposite sides of the table, separated by Fredrick's parents. You weren't quite sure why they had been invited, but they had been polite guests, and provided the social lubricant to keep the friction down between your parents.

Fredrick's father slapped his son's back, “It's your turn, my boy.” he said with a sparkle in his eyes. Hesitatingly, Fredrick got up, and licked his lips “So, uh...I met you back at one of your mother's charity fundraising dinners, to be fair...I don't even remember what it was about. It really wasn't that important in hindsight it seems. But what I do remember was the moment I met you, and that gorgeous blue dress you wore. And how you were able to discuss topics about practically everything. When you said yes when I first asked you out, I thought I was the luckiest man in the world.... but..uh.. I think I was wrong...”

Your throat closed, and your eyes grew to the size of teacups as he got down on one knee. You could hear the sound of cell phone cameras being whipped out and pictures being snapped. Even the surrounding tables quieted down to observe you. You were beginning to understand why your father hadn't booked a private room, like he usually did for dinners out. He wanted the spectacle.

Fredrick pulled out a black velvet box and it opened it, revealing an obscenely large jewelled ring. You could barely see the gold underneath the beautiful assortment of light pink diamonds.

“Will you now...” he said, “make me the luckiest man in the world?”

You stared, your tongue caught in your throat. You felt the eyes of the table, the restaurant, the world on you...and you knew how you should should answer, but did you really commit to this man for the rest of your life?

The air was pressing down on you as you struggled to answer. Any longer and it would get intolerably uncomfortable

“I... yes... of course... I'd .. love to...!”

And with that, the entire place burst out into cheers, and Fredrick pulled you into a passionate kiss. This was supposed to be the happiest time of your life so far....

So why did it feel so wrong?

*****

By the end of the meal, you were frankly exhausted, and you were happy that your father offered to drive you home, alone After saying farewells to your mother, friend, fiance and future in-laws, you made your way to your dad's car.

You were less than pleased to see a well dressed, yet unsavoury looking individual standing by the car door. Your father seemed more than delighted to see the man.

“Ah, Doctor, apologies for making you wait so long, it's been quite an eventful day.”

“None needed,” he smiled, a bit too widely for your comfort. He turned “By the way, congratulations on your impending nuptials” Did everyone know about your engagement before you did?

You politely shook his hand, as your dad made the introductions. “Sweetheart, this is Dr. Griffon, a marine biologist I've been doing business with. He's been highly helpful with the surprise I've been planning for you.”

Your eyebrows raised questioningly, you had known your father had been renovating (with your permission) your house the past few months as an upcoming present for your graduation, but why did he need the help of someone such as this doctor?

“You'll see very soon, and I think you'll love it..” your father murmured as he held the door open for you.

You all got into the black Mercedes-Benz E-class (your father had just recently purchased yet another one... the man loved buying luxury cars like you love mermaid themed stuff), with you in the front passenger seat, and the Doctor sat in the back.

As you drove off, your guest attempted to make some small talk with you, “So, what are you specializing in, my dear?” “I'm planning to study deep sea life, there's so much we don't know about down there,” you responded politely.

His hands clapped together in glee, “Oh good, a fellow lover of the quest for the unknown! You'll have a banquet laid out for you”

“And you, Dr. Griffon, what's your area of focus?” you asked, truthfully intrigued. The Marine Biology community, even worldwide, was rather small, and it amazed you that you'd never heard of this man. Hopefully your father wasn't being swindled about a con artist.

“Ah, I'm in a rather niche area of study, focused mainly on what the general population terms as 'Cryptos'. For example, creatures such as the Loch Ness monster, although I prefer the ocean based versions, as opposed to freshwater.” He looked at your obviously doubtful face, and smiled. “Ah, I've seen that look a thousand times, but trust me, you'll understand soon.” You wanted to ask more questions, but you resigned yourself to relaxing into the leather seats.

“I'm so proud of you today, sweetheart” your father spoke after a few minutes of silence. “Well, I've been wanting to do graduate into this field for so long, it feels like the end of a journey, and the start of new one...”

“Oh yes, that.. of course, getting your degree is wonderful and all, but I was talking about your engagement. Fredrick's a good match for you, and together I know you'll be able take over the business when I retire. In fact,” he said as he pulled onto the private driveway that led to the family estate.” I was thinking you could spend the next year just relaxing, no pressure. All you would need to do is focus learning the ropes on how to run the business, and...of course, preparing for the wedding. That's going to take a lot of work on your own, even with your mother constantly butting in.” “Ah...I don't know, I was really hoping to start work, there's a lot of offers I have to sift through, and there's a research vessel of the coast of Puerto Rico I was hoping to join...”

“Sweetheart,” your father interrupted, as he pulled into your driveway. “I understand you're eager to put all your knowledge to good use, but you deserve a break, especially with all the upcoming excitement. Look, I'll pay for all your living expenses for the year, and after that,” he turned off the ignition, “You'll be able to focus on your profession, all refreshed”.

You sat there for a second, thinking of his offer, it was very generous, but... you had really wanted to start the journey about studying the newest discoveries on the sea floor... but your father's business, the thing he had carefully crafted to give to you...” “Alright,” acquiesced, and your father grinned as he ruffled your hair.

“Excellent, you've made your old man proud... now... for that surprise. I need you to close your eyes....”

You felt him lead you gently up the steps, heard him jangle the keys, and as you struggled to take off your high heels, (so thankful you didn't have to wear them for a while, your feet were killing you), he gripped your hands as he led you down the living room... “Alright, open your eyes.” and the sight that unfolded you took your breath away.

Replacing so much of your admittedly massive living room was an aquarium. No, an aquarium was an understatement. You'd have mistaken it for an Olympic sized swimming pool, if it weren't for the fact that there was glass panels allowing a full view of the water, as well as an assortment of fish, rocks, and coral. A miniature ocean habitat. You pressed yourself against the glass, your eyes darting this way and that.

“This...this is wonderful! Thank you so much, dad!” you embraced your father.

“Ah...” the Doctor butted in “All of this pales in contrast to the main attraction...although it doesn't seem to be friendly right now...” his eyes surveyed the scene, before his eyes lit up and he pointed to a craggy rock. “There it is... watching us from behind the rock.”

Your eyes followed his finger to the said mentioned rock, and your breath momentarily stopped. There, glaring at the three of you was a pair of piercing grey eyes... a human torso, connected to a dull grey fish tail....a real live merman.

“Is that...” you struggled to form a coherent sentence.

“It is indeed, one of the few ever documented, let alone captured alive, you are a very lucky woman” the Doctor crossed his arms, obviously proud of his achievement. “Your father's help in acquiring it will have my undying gratitude.”

“I'm just glad it's no longer a threat to my ships.” your father grumbled “nearly a dozen of the company's vessels damaged by it, and one sunk...” he paused and looked at the Doctor, very seriously. “You are certain it won't be a threat to my girl? It was extremely hostile to everyone so far”

“I assure you” Dr. Griffon smiled, “I've spent decades researching these creatures, I know how they can be controlled. It won't lay a finger on your daughter, if it knows what it's good for it.”

“Does he have a name?” you interjected, feeling uncomfortable at how this conversation was going.

“I've been calling it 'Angelo' as it is a rather ethereal creature... although in hindsight, Diablos would have been a better name. Until it was restrained, it was a fiendish creature...”

“He hasn't told you his name?” you asked, perplexed.

“My dear,” the Doctor said patronizingly, “It doesn't speak, they don't have the intelligence to, besides,” his hand tapped the thick glass. “Even if it could, you'd never be able to understand it. I do believe that they have some rudimentary form of communication, perhaps via colour change. When it was first captured, it's scales were a bright blue. Unfortunately, it seems to have gone a sickly off white, which I can't understand... his vitals are within normal range”

He can talk, I know he can! You wanted to scream back at them, but you bit your tongue, preferring to remain polite and silent.

It didn't take a Marine Biologist to see that he was in some sort of emotional distress. The defensive posture, the way he attempted to hide, and the hate in his eyes. The hatred blazed out at your father, the Doctor, and even you. It was obvious to you, but neither of elder men seemed to notice anything. They saw 'it' as merely yet another fish, albeit an extremely rare one, one without any emotions, just the will to survive. As your father discussed... something, you kept your eyes locked on him. Had he been a human, going by his torso, he'd probably push six feet, but with the long flowing tail, he almost reached seven and a half. And despite your disdain for the doctor, he was correct, he looked healthy, although the bags under his eyes might mean he'd been sleep deprived. Not that you could blame him. What emotional turmoil had he been going through, for ...how long? You'd heard rumours of an inordinate amount mechanical failures of the ships for the past few months, but you didn't recall when they stopped, so focused on putting the finishing touches on your thesis. To be treated like an animal for any length of time would be torture...this 'gift' seemed worse and worse the more you thought about it. And his eyes, they glared at you, but now they were tempered a little bit with... fear? The mere thought he might fear you made you sick to you stomach.

“Sweetheart, are you listening?” your father asked, oblivious to your emotions. “Dr. Griffon is giving you important information on how to take care of it.”

“Now now,” the slimy old man smiled “I can't say I blame her for being fascinated with it, she's the only person in the world to possess one. If I only had the resources.... but your father has assured me that I will be able to take examinations of it on it's monthly check-ups. For it's health, of course... we wouldn't want such a marvelous specimen to sicken and die. Now, if you both would be so kind and follow me, I've got a notebook full of information to help you take care of it, as well as when the filters need to be changed....”

******

You approached the aquarium glass again, alone at last. It was almost midnight, and both the men had finally left, leaving you with an enormous book of notes that reminded you of being a freshmen in university again.... You'd perused only the basics, feeding and water temperatures, you would focus on the specifics later on.

He hadn't moved an inch since you'd left him, still glaring at you. Although, you noticed the fear was gone... that was good, you'd rather him hate you than fear you.

“Hello,” you cautiously said, introducing your name, and his pale eyebrows moved minutely... so he could at least hear you, that was a good sign.

“I don't believe them at all, I know you're not stupid, you're able to understand what I'm saying, and even talk....” you paused, this was a delicate time, you couldn't push him too much, “I'm not going to ask you to talk if you don't want to...I'm not going to force you to do anything you don't want to. I just... I just want to make sure you're okay...like is the water too warm or too cold? Is it too salty, or not enough? Or food... what do you like to eat? I can try to get you whatever it is you want, and while it might not be as fresh as if you got it from your home...”

There was no response, but his glare had softened, just slightly. You were hopeful, that perhaps some dialogue could be established.... perhaps he had been more talkative prior to his captivity.

“I'm going to sleep right there,” you pointed to your living room couch, “If you need anything....don't hesitate to tap the glass, I'm a light sleeper.” you hesitated for a moment, “I don't want to be your jailer, I want what's best for you”

A swing and a miss, you realized as his gaze hardened...and you decided retreat was the best option now. There would always be tomorrow...and the next day... and the next day...as long, and as much as it takes for you to learn to trust me...

And as you drifted off to sleep on the plush couch, you could still feel his steel grey eyes watching you.

#Devil May Cry #Vergil x Reader #Vergil #Mer!Vergil #Deep Blue Sea

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