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turnupswritessometimes · 2 months

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Butterflies - Ch2 - Lies of P/Alice Madness Returns

Relationship: P/Alice Liddell

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53898544/chapters/136426825

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Summary: "But why go looking for other realities, when there's no guarantee you'll pass through to them?" "Because it’s an experiment, and I jolly well won't learn anything more about all this unless I try," Alice replied.

Having figured out how to slip in and out of Wonderland entirely, Alice Liddell sets off on a journey to find more realities around her own. When she follows a blue butterfly to Hotel Krat, she meets P. The more time they spend together, the more they feel as though there's someone else out there, just like them.

Chapter Two: How Alice had Afternoon Tea at Four in the Morning

Alice stepped into Hotel Krat, and came properly face to face with Sophia.

Sophia, who was as beautiful as her city. From her lacy skirts to her peacoat to her sky-blue hair, the same delicacy and elegance of her butterflies was in every part of her. She smiled at Alice, in welcome, and it made her feel as warm through as hot milk.

"I'm so glad you made it in one piece," she said, though she didn't step forward to greet Alice properly. She stayed by the great machine in the hotel lobby. At first, Alice thought it was a fountain, but she realised it was something else entirely. Something that still glowed with that blue hue she’d seen everywhere in the city.

The butterfly, Sophia’s messenger, at her side had dissolved.

"I have some past experience of dangerous places," Alice replied.

"Indeed." The smile widened. Her blue eyes were just as glittering as the butterfly’s wings. "I have a feeling you could help us, very much."

"Oh my, forgive me." There was another voice. A jerky, reverberating voice. It came from the front desk of the hotel.

A puppet manned the desk.

Alice's fingers tightened on the handle of her blade, but Sophia shook her head. Just slightly. She forced herself to relax. It was rather hasty to lump all puppets in the same category.

"We didn't believe there was anyone left in the city. No stalkers, at least." The puppet came around the desk, taller and wider than her. "My name is Polendina; I am the receptionist of Hotel Krat. All who seek refuge are welcome here."

Alice glanced to Sophia again. The puppet hadn't acknowledged her in the slightest. So, not everything was as it seemed. Even now, Sophia was stepping away. Retreating. Leaving her with this stranger.

In that case, she’d better remember good manners. "Thank you. My name is Alice. I've been told I'm here to lend a hand."

"Then, it is doubly fortunate you have found the hotel." There was a tick-tock from somewhere inside of the puppet – inside Polendina. "Consider this the base of the resistance. The last stand against the chaos Krat has fallen into."

Alice examined him. "You don't believe it's too dangerous a job for a girl?"

The puppet looked serious. His default was serious, Alice supposed, but he looked more serious. "You arrived her in one piece. That is proof that you are capable."

He may have been alarming at first glance, but Alice found that she was warming up to this puppet.

"I am afraid the residents of the hotel are currently asleep," Polendina continued. "However, I can show you to a room, and you can make your introductions in the morning – oh—"

The puppet broke off. Not everyone was asleep: a figure came down the lobby stairs, boots clucking, a greatcoat trailing in their wake. They moved like a storm of elephants, clearly not worrying about waking of the inhabitants.

The figure stopped, when it reached the great fountain-like machine, and Alice got her first good look at the newcomer.

It was a young man. He was perhaps her age, or maybe a year older, and there was a certain – muchness – about him, Alice thought. It was easier to start at the floor; at the aforementioned clunking boots, the long legs – then, better not to think at all about his waist, or his hips – the shape of his trousers and waistcoat and all that entailed. Even his coat made his shoulders look all the broader. He was a good head taller than Alice. She needed to tilt her head back to see his face.

A face framed by dark, curling hair, shining like polished mahogany. Without sounding too dramatic, he had the face of a prince from a storybook; both feminine and masculine at once, with freckles across his cheeks and eyes like sapphires.

Alice had never been one to care about boys. (Then, when had she chance? Asylums didn't leave much time for socialising.) She did know they were certainly not the alien beings other girls said they were, and most quite agreeable as friends. But she was very aware this boy was very handsome, and it felt like missing a step on the stairs.

And she was also aware her dress was caked with shingles and sea salt. That she was splattered with oil, and holding a very sharp knife. That her hair was damp from the rain and wild. And she'd never been one to care about looking ladylike, but she would have preferred to look somewhat more presentable, when meeting such a boy.

"Sir, this young lady has just arrived to seek refuge with us. That is alright, is it not?"

The boy's eyes glanced from her to the puppet. His face was quietly impassive. He nodded. Alice took advantage of his distraction to try wiping the vorpal blade on her dress, just to get the worst of the oil off. She tucked it in her waistband, just above the bow at the back.

"She has clearly come a long way. You will make her welcome, won't you?"

"I was planning to—" The boy gestured at the front door, not looking at her. Now he wasn't looking at her, she continued to examine him. He had a sturdy fencing blade at his side, and not only that, one of his arms was mechanical. Looked primed with its own weapon.

"Now, sir, you cannot be rude to our guest."

"No." Alice stepped back, too. "By all means, don't let me stop you."

He glanced back to her, his expression just as unreadable as before. She tried to school hers into a similar nonchalance.

"What would Lady Antonia say?" Polendina asked, and the boy wavered.

Another voice chirped at his side – at the glowing lantern, at his side. "Come on, pal, the monsters will still wait for us."

There seemed to be an internal struggle going on. Alice looked around for Sophia, but she was nowhere to be seen. When she looked back at the boy, he looked faintly annoyed.

So, she was making a splendid first impression.

"Welcome to Hotel Krat," he said. His voice was soft; it reminded her of lullabies. And, just like a prince, he bowed to her in greeting. Properly, his hand across his stomach, and not taking his eyes away from hers.

So, what could Alice do, but perform her best curtsey in response?

Polendina made them to sit in the dining room, whilst he prepared an afternoon tea. Made truly was the correct word – despite both Alice and the boy's protestations that it was unnecessary, he insisted upon it. It was “polite and proper,” he said.

Alice realised that his meant a lot to the puppet; these rules. Perhaps it was the only thing he had left to rely on. She gave in.

Though it was ludicrous. The dining hall was completely empty of other patrons, and felt like a gaping chasm. Of the dozens of white-clothed tables, theirs was the only that was laid. A complete afternoon tea, for the two of them.

Polendina rattled back to the desk, and left the two of them stood in front of the table, both primed to fight monsters, not make polite conversation.

"Well," Alice said, determined to break the silence. "I suppose they never did specify whether to have afternoon tea at four in the A.M, or four in the P.M."

She thought the boy smiled. The tiniest bit. It made her feel a flame-like flicker of pride. She brushed down her skirts – shingle fell to the worn carpet – and held out her hand.

"We might as well go about this properly. My name is Alice Liddell, and it's a pleasure to meet you."

The boy looked at her. He looked at her hand. His smile widened the tiniest bit more. Then he slipped his hand into hers. His right, which was the non-mechanical one. "I call myself P. No one else seems to use that name for me."

He didn't let go of her hand, though he didn’t shake on it, either. They stood there, holding each other's hands, and she wondered why no one called him his name.

"I see,” she said.

"You're meant to shake it." That same voice piped up from the lantern at the boy – at P's –side. "Or, if you truly want to act like a gentleman, you kiss it."

Alice pulled her hand away before he could do either, feeling a flare of panic at the thought. Ridiculous, she told herself, that she could be flustered by the prospect alone. P's hand lingered in the air. She couldn't look at his face; it was too earnest, his eyes too observant.

"Who's your friend?" she asked. It was safer to ask that. Much safer, because P used that lingering hand to unclip the lantern from his belt. He held it up, and Alice would see a small, dark figure inside. The figure of a cricket.

"This is Gemini. He guides my way."

Alice stared. For so long that her eyes stung from the light, but she could make out the tiny parts that built the cricket. Another machine.

"He's wonderful."

A cricket chirp came from inside the lantern that sounded proud of itself.

"Yes," P said. "When he's quiet."

Another chirp, and a, “Hey!”

Alice put her fingers to her mouth, to hide her smile, though she didn't know why. She felt much too aware of herself – felt much too jittery. Tea, she decided. She needed tea. She stepped up to the table. Tea would make her come to her senses.

"And you should offer the lady her chair, before she sits," Gemini continued.

"Oh, you don't need to," Alice said quickly. "I'm hardly a lady."

She fumbled to sit, but this time, P was quicker. He did pull the chair out for her, but then he looked completely lost for the next step. Completely lost to why he should be doing this, and if Alice was honest, she didn't understand all these rules, either.

Though it was easier to give in. "Thank you."

P nodded. It made his dark hair bounce. He didn't tuck the chair in under her, and Gemini didn't prompt him to – perhaps he was despairing at them both. Still, it was a relief. It was simpler to scoot the chair forward herself, whilst P stepped around her and took his own seat.

Alice busied herself with the teapot, pouring them both a cup with both hands. Better to keep her hands busy.

P watched her. She could feel those too-blue eyes examining her, and found herself wishing she'd actually leant this: learnt how to hold a proper tea party. Her only frame of reference was hers and Lizzie's, with her rabbit, and Lizzie's porcelain doll. They’d been light on the proper rules.

"How did you come to be here?" P asked. His hands remained on his lap.

Alice tucked her hair behind her ear. "I followed the blue butterfly."

P's eyes widened. He shifted and, for the first time, he looked interested. "Sophia?"

Alice nodded.

She saw him visibly relax; he looked relieved; and intrigued. He shifted forward again, more rapt on watching her than ever. Alice clenched her fingers on the teapot handle. Attention wasn't something she often received, and she’d always liked it that way. Handsome boys didn’t stare at girls like her, even in Wonderland.

"She said I had different Ergo." She put the pot down, carefully, and heard Gemini give another chirp at P's side. "But I'm afraid I don't know what Ergo is."

If P thought that was strange, he didn't tell her. Instead, he spoke calmly; explained Ergo powered puppets; powered almost everything in Krat; that it was mysterious. It was power – and life. Meanwhile, Alice put milk and small brown sugar cube into her tea, and stirred. Nodded, and sipped, and felt the drink do its work.

P had a nice voice; quiet and lilting. He spoke succinctly, and to the point. He watched the steam curling upwards from the teacups, but didn't move to take his own.

Ergo had made the puppets attack, though no one knew why – simply that it seemed to drive them crazy, and soon after, everything in Krat went wrong. Not just the puppets, but an outbreak of a deadly and unexplained disease. All P knew was that the puppets needed to be stopped.

“I am following Geppetto’s plan to save the city.

"And Geppetto is?" Alice reached for a scone. There were finger sandwiches on the platter, and tiny cakes, but scones were always the best part of afternoon tea. There wasn't any cream, which Lizzie would have called a crime, but she'd always preferred the jam and butter combination. Less sweet.

"My father." And P was even more unreadable than usual. He fiddled with his mechanical arm, clenching and unclenching the fingers of it.

Gemini was silent.

Alice knew when to avoid a subject. "Tell me what you've tried, so far?"

First, he'd liberated Krat Central Station, then Venigni ironworks factory, then fought a monster at a cathedral, and finally the King of Puppets himself. It had not solved the problem.

There was more. P seemed bothered by something. It was in the twitch of his fingers, and how he kept testing his arm. Alice knew about that; everyone had their own soothing method in the Asylum.

So, she didn't press further - who was she, to do so? She had plenty of her own secrets that she didn't want to talk about. It would even be ruder than resting her elbows on the table (and she was doing that anyway, so best not to push it further).

She'd finished half of her scone, when she noticed that P's tea was still untouched, and his plate still empty.

"Are you not eating?" she asked.

P looked at the food. His blue eyes met hers, the lashes long, and dark. "I'd break."

The realisation hit her, then. This wasn't a young man sat opposite her. This was—

She went to stand. Had a hand on table. "You're a..."

Puppet. This boy was a puppet. He wasn't eating because he couldn't eat.

Alice forced herself to stop. He wasn't a threat. Just like the butler wasn’t a threat. Just because some puppets had gone into this frenzy, didn’t mean he would too. It was terrible to lump him in with all the others. And how could she judge him, even for a moment? Especially as he'd been nothing but courteous.

Especially as he didn't seem surprised or annoyed at her reaction. He looked resigned, as he took his own hands off the table, and back into his lap, like a scolded schoolboy.

"I'm sorry," she said. "Truly. It's not – I'm not – you're different, to the others."

"I know," P said. "I can do things other puppets can't. I don't have to obey the creator’s orders, and I can lie."

"Very well." Alice felt desperate to make up for her shock. Desperate to act as though everything was alright. "Tell a lie."

P considered. His eyes were the same vibrant hue as the butterfly’s wings. "You're not beautiful."

"That was your lie?"

"Yes.”

He’d called her beautiful. Alice would have preferred that he go crazy and attack her. It was better than sitting opposite him, frozen. Frozen and feeling heat climb her cheeks. She hated blushing; she was so pale she looked ridiculous, when she did. She ducked her chin, her heart pounding. And suddenly she did need to stand. Needed to step away from the table and take a deep breath.

Alice Liddell was not beautiful. She knew that. Lizzie had been.

P stood too. "I don’t want to upset you."

"No, it's just—" She turned back to him, feeling helpless, and ended up taking another step towards the windows. The curtains hadn't been pulled. It was pitch dark outside. She could see herself reflected in the window. Her side eyes stared back at her, manic. "It's just it's been a very long day. I didn't think I would be shipwrecked and then having afternoon tea in the middle of the night."

P had mirrored her movements. Stood opposite her, just far enough away for comfort. He nodded, not as though he understood, but as though he was trying to. How could he, though, when Alice didn’t understand her reaction herself?

"What I meant was, you look different." It was easier to pretend that last part of conversation hadn't happened. "You don't have the—"

She gestured to her own chin, and, to her mortification, found a smear of jam there. She tried to wipe it off without P noticing. He'd mirrored the movement, and once he understood what she meant, nodded again. He opened his mouth, as though he was going to say something more, but then seemed to think otherwise.

Alice gripped her elbows, so tightly that the points of them stung like daggers into her palms.

She couldn't say it whilst she was looking at him. She had to stare, determinedly, at the table and the barely touched food. Her heart rallied against her ribcage. "But you're very handsome, yourself."

When she dared a peak at P's face, she saw he was looking in the opposite direction too. That he was just chancing a peek back at her, and then away.

Alice squeezed her eyes shut, for a moment. How was it, in a world full of frenzied puppets and phantom butterflies, this was the agonising part?

She'd happily take monsters over this, any day.

#alice madness returns #turnupswrites #lies of p #fanfiction #crossover ship #rarepair #alice liddell #lies of p pinocchio #pinocchio #american mcgees alice #fanfic #pinocchio x alice #p x alice #multichap #best way to follow is either ao3 or my writing tag

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batbirdies · 3 months

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Ding ding did anyone order some Duke Thomas sickfic??

#Batman #the signal #Duke thomas #batfam #sickfic #hurt/comfort #angst with a happy ending #multichap

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dnffics · 3 months

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touching you—so I don't forget you're here

by lonelybug

Rated E, 9 chapters, 60.8k words

Tags: Friends with Benefits, Mutual Pining, Slowburn

Summary:

George can’t find anyone who satisfies him in bed—and yet Dream doesn’t expect him to ask him for help. Or for his entire world to be turned upside down by casually hooking up with the person he’s been in love with for the past five years.

#anon.recs #dnf #dreamnotfound #dnf fic #dnf fanfic #mutual pining #slowburn #50k+ words #rated e #nsft #lonelybug #multichap #fwb

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theredconversegirl · 2 months

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Hello. Do you have list of your favourite multi chapter ss fanfic? Hope you doing well

Hello nonny,

Thanks for stopping by! I hope you're doing well too. 💕

Yes, I do! Here you go:

Multichap Fics (Canon/Canon-Divergent/AUs) 🍅🌸

The list includes only complete fics. I hope you enjoy the recs! 😁

Stay Safe,

xoxo

#theredconversegirl answers things #SasuSaku #multichap #ss fics #ss fic rec list #theredconversegirl recommends

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wasabi-gumdrop · 2 years

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neon glory by saabi

rated E (nsfw) • krbk • college au • fwb to lovers •

#pls have this fic that i mostly wrote on public transit my office desk and car rides between cities #wasabi writes #kiribaku #krbk #kiribaku fic #krbk fic #multichap #neon glory

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notasapleasure · 6 months

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I've never actually finished a longfic in draft before posting before. What are people's reading preferences for something that's 100k (and may want some commentary with each chapter)?

Spread as far and wide as you like - I'd love to hear directly from people who might actually read an Icelandic saga AU about Cassian Andor and Brasso the Ferrixian, but getting a general survey of how people like to read longfic would be cool too.

#HALP #searching for readers here pls i'll do anything #saga au #my fics #my wips #andor #andor fanfic #brasso #cassian andor #polls #my first poll :)#fanfic #fanfiction #longfic #multichap #star wars #never has my star wars tag been more accurate or more necessary:#delusions of grandeur

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ksficrec · 8 months

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To Build a Home

By: RedPowder

Link: Ao3

Words: 80k | E | tw: Major character death (happens before the story) | Ongoing

Sakura and Kakashi are assigned a mission that will change the path of their lives forever.

Arranged Marriage AU

Submitted by anonymous

#kakasaku #kakasaku fanfiction #multichap #50 100k #e #ongoing #friends to lovers #arranged marriage au #au #ty anon for the rec #it's a wonderful fic!!#really wonderful i wholeheartedly recommend!#*to add

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sosohh · 11 months

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@jilychallenge | Partner: @blitheringmcgonagall | April 2023: Letters and Texting.

Prompt: First date - “ Words We Should Never Have Left Unsaid / P.S I Still Wait For You’.

I’m so sorry it’s late but I literally had to force this thing out of my birth canal. xoxo

Also mahoosive thanks to @blitheringmcgonagall who helped me decide the most embarrassing events to happen in chapter 1

Read it on AO3

Words we should (never) have left unsaid

I just keep waiting for the day when I’m not an idiot around you.

If you asked James Potter if he loved the theatre, he would answer very diplomatically that ‘yeah, it was alright’, and ‘sometimes the tunes get stuck in your head, you know’, and ‘my mother brought me up on a diet of show tunes, I can’t help that I sing them out loud sometimes, God’.

As a matter of fact, being a naturally curious and inquisitive (and sometimes lonely) child, Euphemia Potter had enrolled her son into a summer of theatre classes in the hope that it would use up his endless energy and perhaps guide her son onto the path of acting so that she would always have some free theatre tickets. As naturally, if her son chose that path, she was sure he would succeed.

So when she was called into the theatre to ‘chat’ about James, she was surprised (yet also unsurprisingly unsurprised) to learn that James had gone AWOL for an hour, only to be found backstage watching the technical crew pull on the fly ropes for My Fair Lady – ‘accidentally mum, I swear!’ and had zero intention of retuning back to rehearsals about ‘being a tree in the ocean’ (James’ words). Euphemia Potter, being a woman of many talents, strong maternal instincts and an unprecedented prowess at sniffing out the places and things her son was interested in, managed to sweet talk the theatre into allowing her son to apprentice backstage on weekends, which lasted until he gained enough qualifications for him to earn a paid full-time technical position at the theatre.

And so, nearly 15 years later, James Potter found himself backstage during a performance of the touring production of Cats at the WNAC, having only just started the same week.

A few years ago he done a refresher training residential week and quickly became friends with an extremely tall Welsh man called Remus. They’d stayed in touch, Remus often staying at his and his best friends’ London flat whenever he was working on a production in the city, and a month ago Remus had been in touch about a technical position opening up at his venue. And James, looking for a change in life, scenery and jobs, had applied and got the job.

So here he was, backstage in the labyrinth of a new theatre, belting out Memory along with Grizabella who was singing over the tannoy.

‘Touch me’, he sang, ‘It’s so easy to leave meeee – oof!’.

Rounding a corner, James collided into something soft and firm. Someone, he mentally corrected. Something soft and warm and -

‘You’re dangerously close to my boob right now.’

‘Oh my god’ – James jumped as though he’d been shocked and stepped back quickly, and in doing so, walked into some lockers which lined the corridor.

His curses now joining the clang of the metal and Grizabella’s voice, he could swear the silence from this stranger was louder – or maybe that was his embarrassment he could hear. Blowing through the corridor like tumble-weed.

‘That’, the woman deadpanned, ‘was either incredibly bad timing or I need to make a trip to HR’.

James cringed. He could well imagine the phone call to his mother if she found out he’d been suspended in his first week pending investigation into inappropriate conduct.

‘Oh, it was definitely incredibly bad timing.’ He closed a locker door which had swung open with the force of his hit and had come to a stop near his ear but the locker door popped open again and slowly creaked to a stop. ‘I would never -’ he cut off, embarrassed, just as Grizabella let out another cry of ‘Touch me!’

The woman laughed – prettily, he thought, before internally berating himself; ‘Not the moment, Potter!’ - and motioned to his head, which he still had a held in his hand to soothe the pain from the locker.

‘Do you actually need me to have a look? I’m a first aider.’

‘That would only honestly make this situation more embarrassing,’ James said, grimacing at the thought, before shutting the locker door again, only to hear it pop open a second time, ‘so no, I’m good. But, thanks.’ He dropped his hand, even thought his head was still smarting.

‘Um, right. Okay, well,’ she gestured past James and towards the crew room. ‘Is Remus in there? I need to have a chat about finding the WOC’s Gobo - I think they’ve definitely misplaced it but they’re looking to blame someone...’

‘Oh, good luck.’ James said wryly, ‘I’ve been trying to find him for ages. I think he’s ignoring my texts because I thought his dinner was ravioli and not tortellini and God forbid I don't know my pasta. Also, if I deviate from this path that I've learned around the building, I just know I’m going to get lost.’

She laughed again, ‘Yeah, this place is a bit of a maze, but you get used to it pretty quickly. Mind, if you’re only here for a week, maybe you need to put some chalk on the walls or something?’

‘Oh, I’m not – I work here, I’m not with Cats.’

She looked at him for a beat, and then with some confusion asked him;

‘Oh, sorry. I just thought – I mean, I could hear you down the corridor singing all the lyrics’.

James flushed and laughed awkwardly, his hand making his way back to the base of his head, willing himself to rid the redness he could feel creeping its way up his neck.

‘It’s my mum’s favourite musical so..’ he trailed off, trying to laugh through a smile, which in hindsight, surely made him look even more bizzare.

‘Right.’ She said, and when the silence almost got too painful she added; ‘Um, well, I better get – I’ll just teams Rem...’ before starting to walk away.

And for some reason, some strange reason which made him question his sanity for the next 12 hours straight and sporadically for a good few days later, he saluted and called after her;

‘Cool, okay, well, bye. And sorry for almost touching your boob. I honestly wouldn’t - well, I mean, you do have nice boobs - not that I’ve looked! Or touched! God. Sorry.’ And with a final note of desperation he added, ‘Bye’. Then he turned around and promptly walked straight back into the locker door.

He could’ve sworn he saw a second bail of tumble weed blowing past in his mind’s eye. Along with an actual trickle of blood with passed his eye from the now angry looking cut above the eye socket.

Ten minutes later, patched up and with a first aid form sheepishly all filled out, he finally located Remus, and accosted him with a nonchalant (or so he thought), ‘Remus, who’s the woman that works here with ginger hair?’

Remus, put down his fork of butternut squash macaroni and said, ‘That’d be Lily Evans, Front of House and she’s not going to HR.’

‘How do you know?’ James cried and sunk into a chair in mortification.

#jilychallenge #april jily challenge #jily #muggle au #multichap #james potter #lily evans #blitheringmcgonagall

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resident-gay-bitch · 1 year

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mommy issues

part 12 / contents

eddie was out the door before he could even process standing up. somehow his pants were back on, and his sneakers were loosely on his feet, and his keys were in the ignition and - okay, he needed a second to think.

what the fuck was he doing?

did he make it up? he probably made it up. you wouldn't... there's no way... but...

god. he smacked his head against the steering wheel a few times, groaning. okay, so, the picture was pretty vivid in his mind now. yeah, get home drunk, let you help him change, said something horny and inappropriate which led to you being your confident self and telling him... holy shit, you wanted to fuck him.

you wanted to fuck eddie.

eddie the freak.

your stepson.

eddie was positively losing his goddamned shit.

what was he doing? he had no idea. but the van was in gear and he was zooming down the makeshift road of the trailer park before he could let his thoughts get to him. he was horny and obsessed and if there was any chance that what you had said was true, he was gonna take that fucking chance. he needed you so fucking bad, you consumed him entirely.

he pulled up at your place a lot sooner than he should have, defiently having ran a few stop signs, maybe a red light or two. who knows? he didn't care. not now. not when his virginity was on the line.

he quickly checked himself over in the mirror, fixing up his bangs and random strands of hair to look his best for you. thankfully this was a good hair day.

he clambered out of the van and bounced up the steps to your apartment in a flash, giving his hair a little shake and his fingers a crack before he was knocking on the door. not a single thought other than you in his head.

"bunny?" you smiled at him as you opened the door, "didn't expect to see you so soon, didn't we just talk?"

eddie nodded his head and stepped into the apartment, watching you close the door behind him. he was a little scared, now that he was here, and you were there, still looking as gorgeous as you did at the video store.

"you okay, sugar?" you asked, stepping a little closer.

eddie loved the way your hips swayed when you walked. they looked even better in those goddamned jeans. he nodded his head a few times before frantically shaking it no.

"what's going on?" you asked, hands reaching out to sweep back his hair.

he preened into the touch, letting your soft palm cup his cheek. he couldn't take his eyes off of you. he was hard and needy and nervous as fuck.

"i... i remember."

"remember what, baby?"

"what you said." eddie swallowed, "what we... talked about, when i was drunk."

your eyes widened a little, and you smirked, "oh you do, huh?" eddie nodded, "and you raced over here to tell me?"

eddie swallowed and nodded again.

you chuckled in that malicious, teasing way that drove him insane, "you've been waiting for it, haven't you?"

eddie nodded his head again, words apparently weren't things he knew how to say anymore.

"what made you remember?"

"i was... uh..." eddie averted his eyes for the first time since he got here, cheeks pink and warm, "i was about to jerk off."

you grinned, and it was so goddamned sexy, "were you gonna think about me?"

eddie didn't move, too afraid to say yes, and too afraid to lie.

you nodded your head once, "nervous, sweetie?" you placed your hand over his heart, feeling it race.

eddie shrugged, "should i be?"

"i don't know, you tell me."

he swallowed, "you said you didn't want to fuck me." he stated blankly.

you furrowed your brow, "when'd i say that?"

"in the bathroom." eddie pointed to it, "after danny broke my nose. you... you said you don't fuck pathetic people willingly."

you grinned, "correct." you shrugged, "but when did i ever say you were pathetic?"

eddie's lips parted with shock, "you don't think i'm..."

"well," you tipped your head to the side, "you do get a little pathetic when i'm around. follow me around like a lost puppy, but it's endearing. makes me feel special." you winked and he just about melted, "you're not pathetic, you just get a little pathetic around me."

eddie whimpered.

you grabbed his chin lightly, tipping it up, and even though he had to look down on you, he was falling victim to your control, "just like that."

he licked his lips, mouth dry and breath short. he didn't know what to say. he didn't know what to do. he was way in over his head and painfully, painfully horny.

you placed your hand on his chest and shoved him backwards a few steps until the back of his knees hit the couch, and he was falling down into it. you straddled his thighs in swift motion, and he barely comprehended it before you were up against him, body warm against his.

your hand was in his hair, tugging it back so he had to look up at you, his mouth was parted open and holy shit was he done for. he felt like he was about to bust in his jeans.

your face was so close to his, he could feel your warm breath on his lips and cheek. his head felt dizzy and he definitly wasn't in control of his mind or body anymore. but that's okay, because you were. and he'd do absolutely anything you said, without question.

"you feelin okay, bunny?" you asked, a seductive whisper that made his spine tingle.

he nodded his head, a pathetic hum that sounded more like a moan worked it's way out.

your hand wrapped around his neck loosely, sliding up until it forced his head back more, you were holding him still. making him look up at you like you were some divine thing. and in eddie's eyes, you absolutely were.

"you sure, baby? because you don't sound too good." you smirked, and fuck, eddie was already addicted to your teasing, "what pretty sounds your making, hmm. can't even talk. look at you."

eddie didn't try to stop his whimper then, nor the moan that followed. he wanted so desperatly to buck his hips up, to have you grind against him, but he was so scared that you'd tell him off if he did. that he was reading this wrong. that he was way in over his head. so he forced himself to be still, listen to you, do as you said.

"so naughty, aren't you?" you'd asked, whispering in his ear, "thinking of your stepmommy to jerk off."

eddie pouted his pretty pink lips, looking at you with his soft doe eyes. he felt horribly, guilty. so fucking guilty. but holy fuck was he hard.

"so bad, hmm. you gonna think about me touching you whilst you stroke your cock, baby? hmm?" your breath was hot on his ear, your nails digging into his scalp and his neck, and eddie was definitely in heaven, "do you cum to the thought of me bouncing on your cock a lot, bunny?"

eddie swallowed, looked you in the eye. he was nervous, he was so nervous to say yes but he couldn't bare to lie to you. not anymore. not when you looked at him like that.

he nodded his head, "all the time."

you grinned, thumb reaching up to pull at his bottom lip, "oh, how pathetic."

eddie whimpered, pouted some more, "m'sorry. m'so sorry-"

your hand was gripping his face, nails digging into his cheeks and forcing his lips to puff forward. he had to shut up, both from the shock and the literal inability to keep talking.

"what would you do if your daddy found out about that, huh?" you asked, eyebrows raised, "he'd be so mad you tried to steal me from him, wouldn't he?"

eddie nodded, eyes fixated on you. he was hypnotised.

"don't you think it's wrong, bunny? to think of mommy like that?" you pouted your lip at him, "all this time you've been thinking about fucking me and haven't bothered to tell me. isn't that just mean?"

he really wasn't sure what to think.

"poor baby." you sighed, "poor, sweet, baby. shame, coulda-"

you were both so rudely interrupted by the door being opened and danny walking inside. of course, you had just told him you needed to rush home before danny finished work. eddie was stupid. so fucking stupid.

and he was scared, so scared he was about to get another beating and that you would get a worse one for being like this with eddie. it was all his fault. all his stupid fucking fault.

if he hadn't have been so goddamned horny and just thought for a moment, maybe given you a call!

but lucky you were a quick thinker. you lifted your hips so you were kneeling, not sitting on him anymore. and your hands were on his face, thumb tugging on eddie's cheek just below his eye, blowing in it softly.

"there, eddie, think it's gone."

"what're you doin?" danny asked, door slammed shut.

you swiped your thumb under eddie's eye, wiping away the 'tear' you pretended was there, "eddie got an eyelash in his eye, it was bugging him so much. feel better, sweetheart?"

eddie blinked a few times and nodded, "ah, yeah... thanks."

"no problem." you smiled sweetly, as you always do, and hopped off the couch and over to your fucking husband, "hiya baby, how was work?"

danny pulled you into an embrace, kissing your lips softly, "good love, how was your day?"

"got lot's done around here." you smiled, scratching your hair and turning to look at the clean apartment, "cleaned your boot's up."

danny smiled, pet you on the ass and headed off for the kitchen. you glanced over to eddie, who was now sitting with a pillow over his lap and red, red cheeks. you touched your lips softly, covering up the smile you knew you shouldn't have had. you walked over to the kitchen, busying yourself with the dinner you had previously been preparing and making small talk with danny. but eddie didn't care to listen.

he was too busy thinking about you.

you on his lap, so close, whispering those sinful things in his ear. he felt like he was about to combust.

he was broken out of his horny daze when you shrieked. he was ready to jump to your aid, defend you from his fucktard of a father again.

but he looked at you, and you were in danny's arms, being spun around and smiling.

ew.

you kissed him, and then again, muttering thank you's inbetween. danny sat you down on the kitchen counter, hands on your hips and he kissed you more. eddie watched. you pulled back, but danny squeezed your ass and pulled you back in with a dark chuckle. he kissed you again, and eddie could hear the wet slap of your mouths on eachother. your eyes were open, and you looked at eddie, a sadness in them. but only for a moment, then it looked like you were smirking.

eddie couldn't deal with this.

he was up and heading for the front door, ready to cum and cry all in one. he was fucking done for.

"no, bunny-" you pulled back from the kiss, only to be pulled back in, but you shoved him off, "danny, ed-"

"don't worry about him-"

"ed!" you called, trying to hop down from the counter.

eddie slammed the door before he could hear anything else. he wiped his eyes as he bounced down the steps, rage, hate and hurt swarming his body. he didn't know what to think. one minuet you wanted him, the next you didn't. one minuet you hate danny's guts, the next your thanking him and initiating make out sessions.

eddie slammed the door of his van once safe and inside and pressed his palms into his eyes. god, why did he want to cry? this was so fucking pathetic.

he writhed, still so hard from you. from everything about you. it was mean. you were so mean to him, teasing him constantly, saying such dirty things and never giving him the satisfaction of relief. not even a fucking kiss. though, eddie couldn't blame you. no one fucking wanted him, it was entirely his own fault for being attracted to you. but god, it fucking sucked right now.

he couldn't even care less anymore, his dick hurt so much and there wouldn't be anyone around at this time, here. so he unbuckled his jeans and started to rub one out, he couldn't wait the whole five minuet drive home.

he closed his eyes, head tipped back, grip tight on his angry cock as he jerked off to the thought of you. of you on top of him again, whispering those things, whispering more. he pictured you naked, he pictured you on your knees, looking sinful and sucking on your fingers with those red nails that drove him mad.

you were the definition of every single wet dream eddie had ever had and he couldn't last. not any longer. he bit his lip with the subtle moan of your name as he came.

right as someone slamed their hands on his side window, their face pressed up there too in an attempt to scare him.

his cum shot up on the window and... gareth screamed, jumping back and falling on his ass, dragging jeff and grant with him.

eddie quickly tucked himself away and grabbed an old napkin to wipe it off the window and door, and his hand... and the steering wheel.

"shit- shit, shit. shit."

"dude!" gareth shouted, "fucking public indecency or whatever!"

"sorry!" eddie groaned, winding the window down because it wouldn't wipe away properly, and that way he could just cover the evidence until later.

he tossed the used tissue and wiped his sticky hands on his jeans.

"why the fuck are you jerking it in your car?" jeff asked, tending to gareth who looked petrified.

"because i was fucking hard." eddie gripped the steeringwheel.

"it's feral." gareth whined.

"oh, ease up." eddie sneered at him, "you know the amount of time's ive walked in on you jerking off?"

"yeah..." gareth scrunched up his face, "but if that window wasn't closed i would have been covered in it."

eddie laughed, "you'd fucking like that, wouldn't you?"

"jackass." gareth mumbled, shaking himslef off.

"what are you even doing here?"

"we wen't to yours to hot box, remember?" grant asked, "wayne said you'd probably be here."

"shit, yeah, forgot." eddie hummed.

"you okay, man?" jeff asked.

eddie shrugged, "fuckass of a dads probably fucking my stepmum right now, what do you think?"

"thanks for that mental image," gareth walked around the van to the passenger side, "are you trying to scar me?"

"yes." eddie pointed at him as gareth clambered into the van, "that is my main goal in life."

"hmm." gareth nodded.

eddie turned to the back of the van to see jeff and grant climbing in through the doors and pulling them shut.

"so why were you here?" gareth asked, pulling the joint he stole from eddie's room out of his pocket and lighting it.

eddie shrugged, "was horny, wanted to see her."

"wow." jeff laughed, "you're fucking desperate, man."

"she's hot, alright?" eddie said, snatching the joint from gareth, he really needed it, "fuckin sue me- you know, i caught her renting porn today?"

"no fuckin way, girls don't watch porn." gareth shook his head.

"yeah, they do." eddie furrowed his brow, taking another hit before handing it back to jeff.

"they do." grant agreed, "i've seen my sisters collection, it was horrifying."

eddie snapped his fingers and pointed at grant.

"no way." gareth said, "porn's gross."

"girls are gross." jeff shrugged, "don't you remeber maya last year… we went to her house and i accidentally found her vibrator and shi- oh, no you weren’t there.”

“you what?” gareth asked, “and no one told me of this?”

“she asked us not to!” eddie wailed.

“when have you ever cared about that? i could have used that as an in.” gareth argued.

“we told you to make a move on her afterwards for weeks, but you were too pussy.” grant said.

“yeah.” eddie shrugged, snatching the joint back, “we only followed her request to not tell you because she had a picture of you in the stash. so like… bro code.”

“are you joking?” gareth asked.

“nah man,” jeff laughed, shaking his head, “for real. we tried to hook you guys up for months but your both idiotic pussies.”

“fuck.” gareth groaned.

“yeah.” grant laughed, “your loss.”

“no shit.”

“how’s stephanie going anyway?” eddie asked, passing the spliff gareth’s way, “fucked her yet?”

“yeah.” gareth nodded his head, “last night, actually.”

“hey!” jeff slapped him on the shoulder, “way to go, g. stealing innocent girls virginities left front and centre.”

gareth laughed, “i know. took me three weeks to get past fingering and shit. like, is there that much difference between my dick or my tongue?”

“apparently.” eddie shrugged, “i wouldn’t know.”

gareth laughed, “loser. you keep this crush on mommy dearest up forever your never gonna lose it.”

“fuckin tell me about it.”

“speak of the devil.” grant nodded his head out eddie’s window, and they all turned to look.

there you were, in your tight jeans and wedges, your shirt buttoned wrong and untucked this time, your hair a little less put together.

“walk of shame.” jeff whispered, laughing to himself.

“what i’d give to see that leaving my bedroom.” gareth hummed, resting back in his seat and taking a hit.

“lay off,” eddie slapped him in the chest, still looking at you, “she’s mine.”

“oooohh.” grant leant forward between the seats, “possessive.”

jeff laughed, “get a grip, eddie.”

“shut the fuck up.” eddie hissed at them before leaning out his open window, folding his arms on the frame and grinning, “he’s scared ya off for good? finally running away? need me to hand him the divorce papers?”

his voice seemingly caught you off guard, making you jump and clutch your keys to your chest with a shriek. eddie found it cute, he liked the way it made your hair bounce, and- god, get a fucking grip, eddie!

you giggled, the sweetest sound eddie had ever heard, and took a deep breath after realising it was just him, “you caught me!” you smiled, flashing your arms out a little, “no, i was actually on my way to find you, bunny.”

eddie felt either jeff or grant - he couldn’t see which - prod him in the back at your little nickname. he heard all three of them quietly snicker. he clenched his jaw, preying they didn’t scare you off like the bunch of jackasses they were.

“oh, really?”

you nodded, waking a little closer, “you kinda just… stormed out. was worried about you. thought i might be able to catch you at a red light, danny’s pretty quick.”

eddie shrugged, pouting his lip slightly, “thanks for that mental image.”

you giggled softly, “what? just emphasising how shit it is to be with him.”

he nodded, “just didn’t need to see you necking my dad, is all.”

you shrugged, taking a few slow steps closer, a shit eating grin printed on your pretty lips, “why? you jelous?”

eddie turned pink. another hushed snicker erupted from behind him, someone - presumably gareth - kicked him in the back. eddie tried his best to stay calm, he sat up straight, trying to block out the fuckwits though the window.

you stepped up, resting your elbow on his side mirror, and then your cheeks turned pink too. eddie had never seen you flustered before.

“oh, you have friends- i mean, of course you have friends! i just-“ you laughed nervously and it caught him off guard, “shit. sorry.”

“n- no. it’s fine.” eddie shook his head, he didn’t know how to go about your nervous state.

you were always so confident, so sure of yourself.

you cleared your throat, seemingly switching it back on, “boys.” you smiled at each of them, “getting up to no good, i presume?”

jeff shoved the joint behind his back, “…no.”

you rolled your eyes, reaching your perfectly manicured hand into the car and beckoning him forward with two fingers, “hand it over.”

jeff grumbled and huffed and passed it to you. eddie heard grant grumble something about how he thought you were cool, and eddie elbowed him. you smirked and took a hit, blowing the puff into the van before shoving it between eddie’s pert lips. he heard jeff and grant whisper a never mind, she’s cool.

“why you back?”

“never left.” eddie shrugged.

“no?” you asked again.

“i was about to, when these lugnuts popped up out of nowhere.”

gareth leant forward with his most confident grin, “we figured we’d find eddie here, lucky we caught him right as he came to his car.” he eyed eddie.

eddie scrunched up his face, clenching his jaw at his best friend.

“ah, timing.” you grinned, leaning on the window seal now, “just hot boxing?”

jeff nodded his head, “yeah, missus thomas.”

you gave him a weird look, “don’t call me that shit, makes me sound old… and happy.”

eddie laughed, “maybe you are old.”

you grinned at him, “compared to you, baby, but i’ve still got a lot of life left in me.”

eddie shied away. he didn’t know why, perhaps it was your eyes, they seemed to always have an effect on him.

“you most certainly are not old.” gareth swooped in with his flirtatious sucking up, as always, “how old are you, anyway? you look a little young to be married to that douche.”

“i am.” you grinned, “but whatever pays the bills, right?”

“okay, now i’m curious.” jeff lent forward, “how old are you?”

“yeah?” grant leant forward too.

“hmm, guess.” you smiled.

“twenty three.” gareth guessed, leaning back against the window and eyeing you up a little.

eddie glared at him, she’s mine.

gareth shrugged and continued to flirt, if you don’t make a move, i will.

“you're sweet.” you giggled, “but not even close.”

“no way.” gareth shook his head, “you can’t be over twenty five.”

you seemed to be glowing, cheeks a dusted pink and a satisfied smile on your lips. eddie wished he could put that look on your face. instead it was stupid gareth.

“i most certainly am.”

“twenty six.” jeff asked, narrowing his eyes.

you shook your head.

“twenty seven.” grant asked.

you shook your head again.

“twenty eight?” gareth asked.

you giggled and shook your head no.

eddie groaned, throwing his head back, “can you stop flirting with my step mum, please, g? we get it, she’s pretty!” eddie looked back at the other two, “and i don’t get why your flirting, your both in a committed relationship with eachother!”

“i’m just genuinely curious now.” grant huffed.

“she really doesn’t look any older than… twenty nine?”

you shook your head again, laughing at their teenage antics softly.

“g. cool it.”

“can’t help it.” he grinned, shooting you a wink that made you giggle, “i see a beautiful lady and i need to woo her.”

“i’m flattered, really gareth.” you smiled, wiggling your hand out, “but i’m married, and your eighteen.”

gareth pouted, “eighteen with the experience of a twenty five year old.”

“oh yeah?” you asked, leaning on the frame with a cocky smirk and eddie felt very jelous, “fuck a lot of girls, baby?”

gareth nodded, “so many.”

you gave him a look that made him think like he had won, “then i suggest an std test, baby. can never be too careful.”

gareth huffed, sinking down in his seat, and the other guys laughed. eddie grinned at you, feeling quite proud. you chucked him a little wink.

eddie leant his elbow on the window beside you, resting his head against the door so he could look down at you softly. take in your prettiness. he couldn’t work you out, but he was never going to stop trying.

“thought you didn’t willingly fuck pathetic guys.” eddie said, recapping himself from before, watching your face morph into something a little left of happy, “seemed pretty eager before.”

you smiled at him softly, ignoring the whispered commentary coming from inside the van, “danny and i got into it again thismorning… something stupid and minor, but sex is the easiest fix.” you shrugged, reaching into your back pocket, pulling something out, “i prepared for his arrival, bunny.”

eddie took the sheet of silver from you to inspect. viagra. you were on fucking viagra. that’s why you were so desperate for danny.

that’s why you came onto eddie the way you did.

his cheeks went pink, and he couldn’t tear his eyes from the packet.

he’d totally just humiliated himself up there because you were on goddamned viagra.

gareth snatched the packet from him with a laugh, “fuck. danny can fucking suck it.”

“yeah.” you laughed, scratching your forehead, “makes it a little easier.”

eddie nodded his head.

“hey, ah…” you shrugged, “you boys want some dinner?”

“don’t wanna go back up there with him.” eddie muttered, eyes still fixed on his lap.

“he’s napping.” you smiled, reaching out to hold his hand softly, “c’mon. got a good meal up there. we can watch some movies? danny’s heading up to indy tonight anyway.”

“why?” jeff asked, handing the packet back to you.

you grinned, “he’s buying me a car! a real sweet one too apparently. and it’s all legal, i believe.” you clapped your hands together, “it’s gonna be amazing.”

“hmm.” eddie nodded.

“c’mon baby, come have some food. you’ll brighten up.” you smiled at him softly.

eddie sighed, nodding his head. the boys all began to clamber out of the van, and you took a couple of steps back. eddie grabbed his keys and started to wind the window back up without a second thought. he was looking at you as he did, giving you a happy smile. he couldn’t keep his frown around you for too long.

but his smile dropped when the big smudge of cum stuck to his window obscured his view of you. he saw his friends all break into uncontrollable laughter around you. you leant back to whisper something to them, which eddie assumed was to ask what was on his window. you giggled softly when eddie jumped out the van.

“you okay, eddie?” you’d asked, acting as if nothing had happened.

“yup, so good.” he nodded, locking the van.

“okay, cool.” you smiled, rubbing his back softly as he walked up beside you, all of you started walking for the steps, “how about you come upstairs now?”

his fiends all burst into another fit of laughter and eddie turned so red.

“aww, nothing to be ashamed of, baby.” you smiled, squeezing his hand, “sometimes things can get a bit hard.”

another laugh from the boys.

“please shut up.” eddie whispered, closing his eyes.

you grinned, leaning into his space to whisper with a teasing smirk, “just couldn’t wait for me, huh?”

eddie looked at you a little weirdly, his heart racing.

“shame your friends showed up.” you shrugged, taking another step forward, “if you’d made it back to the trailer, maybe you’d be painting me rather than the window, huh?”

you had to still be on the viagra.

you grinned, bouncing back up the stairs to open the door. leaving eddie at the bottom of the staircase, on the gravel, hard again.

what the fuck!

part 13

taglist: comment to be tagged :) @starcourtcass @bibieddiesgf @cherrycolas-things @littlepotatobeansworld @bl4ckt00thgr1n @emmalee-01 @perfectlymellowthing @daniellabrandt

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jomiddlemarch · 23 days

Text

And thy mercy shall follow me

4. The truth was, she had fallen asleep. She sat beside Anjin and watched him breathe and slowly, her eyes had drifted shut. For only a moment, she had told herself. She would rest and allow herself to husband her strength. She would not leave him, but it was not so much to close her eyes briefly.

“Mariko-sama, wake up,” Anjin said, his voice rust. Ash. Whatever destroyed and was destroyed. She blinked, flushed with shame at failing him, licked her dry lips in preparation of making her apology. Anjin spoke before she could, low, each word clearly costing him. “You should not be here.”

“I should not have fallen asleep. I am here to care for you. I was negligent,” she said, inclining her head in regret. It was the accepted form but it was sincere; she had said she would be responsible for him and had failed. He needed more than a maid could provide.

“You’ll make yourself ill. I won’t have that,” he replied, some of his usual contrary spirit imbuing the words with vitality. A sham, unsustainable, but she took it as a good sign, as there were too few of them.

“There is no risk to me,” Mariko said.

“You don’t know that—there are noxious airs, spirits—" he said, breaking off when he was seized by a storm of coughing. The catarrh sounded worse, deeper, more violent, and he was breathless when it ended, unable to speak.

“Your illness comes from your wound. I am uninjured. Safe,” she said. “If your physician had fears for me, he would not have allowed me to stay and nurse you.”

She poured out a cup of water and moved closer to him. He could not lift his head.

“Drink this now and I will have Sugi prepare tea for you,” she said, holding the cup to his lips, trying hard not to spill any water onto his chest or the linens around him. They would need to be changed and she and Sugi would likely need assistance to help him while the bedding was taken away and fresh bedclothes brought to the room.

“Rather have sake,” he rasped. “Home, Mary would make a posset with cream and egg, plenty of ale, not this infernal mess of greenery.”

Mariko could not imagine anything more repulsive to choke down, ill or healthy, but he’d spoken with such fondness. She wondered how much was for the drink and how much for his distant wife.

“When you are stronger, perhaps,” she said.

“Never get ill,” he said. It did not seem like the bluster of a sick man and he was well-built, sturdy, his numerous scars well-healed. He had been, before his wound festered. Now, the fever having overtaken him, he’d turned gaunt and his scars stood out livid against his pallor.

“You must rest now,” she said.

“So must you, Mariko-sama,” he replied.

“If I agree, will you stop arguing?” she said.

He gave her a crooked smile in response, but there was exhaustion in his blue eyes and pain.

“Tisn’t an argument, but I’ll leave it,” he said. He moved, as if to find a more comfortable position, and then stilled, unable to improve his situation. “My head aches most fearsomely.”

Mariko moved closer, put her arm beneath his shoulders and lifted him so his head was pillowed on her lap. He looked at her wordlessly, gratitude and wonder mixed together in his gaze. She stroked his forehead and his tousled hair, the intimacy of a lover, not a nurse. Sugi, in the corner of the room, must see but would not speak of it.

“Sleep, John,” she said quietly. She felt some tension leave him and he closed his eyes.

“Sweet,” he muttered.

#shogun 2024 #fx shogun #marikothorne #mariko x john #john x mariko #toda mariko #john blackthorne #hurt/comfort #multichap #so much pining #POV mariko

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itshype · 6 months

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Just curious, for people who read WIPs on Ao3 and subscribe to them, do you like there to be a chapter summary for you to read in the email?

If I missed something or you want to elaborate on your feelings please go ahead!

#polls #ao3 #fandom culture #fandoms #multichap #multi chap fic #wips #mine

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turnupswritessometimes · 1 month

Text

Geppetto's Boy - Lies of P - Ch2

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54517777/chapters/138571591

Summary: A collection of oneshots set throughout the game, mostly exploring P and Gepetto’s relationship. (But exploring P’s relationships with most of Hotel Krat too.)

First | Next

Chapter Two

P sat in the chair again. Again, he was covered in oil from fightig the puppets at Venigni works. Not just oil, he knew, but blood again.

Geppetto used a wet brush, to clean his hair. It eased the gunk out, as he sat and did not flinch as his hair was tugged. This was all part of being kept kept - he needed to be kept clean and in one place, to stay functioning. His hair fell in front of his face, separating the room with dark strands, like prison bars. It was a wonder Venigni hadn't been terrified of him; a puppet, splattered in oil, approaching him.

But then, he'd thought he was a stalker.

He'd met three. The fox and the cat - the cat, who'd conned him out of his ergo for a useless book. They'd been loud and confident and intriguing to him. He'd wanted to linger, but he'd had his orders to obey; he'd had Venigni to save. And then the third: the mouse. The man who had been scared of him.

The man he'd-

“I killed a human,” he said. He wanted his father to know that. Perhaps because he remembered the Grand Covenant. He shouldn’t harm humans.

“Yes, you killed a human to save me, on the bridge,” his father replied. He brushed more of P’s hair forward, working at the back. The brush snagged on the oil dried there. “You protected me.”

“A different human,” P said. “At the factory.”

His father didn’t pause, and didn’t seem shocked by the news. He continued with his work.

So P continued, “He was scared.”

He was sure he heard Geppetto sigh. “Explain what happened.”

“He was scared,” P said. "He attacked me."

"He attacked you with the intention to kill you." It wasn't a question. P supposed it was true. "You had no choice."

P realised he hadn't explained - not properly. He hadn't explained that the man was afraid because his friends had been killed. Killed by puppets. He hadn't explained that the man had attacked him because he'd heard springs inside P. Because P was a puppet, and he was scared P would kill him, too.

He didn't explain that when the man was dead, P hadn't wanted to leave him. Not in a hidden room of Venigni ironworks, by himself. He'd dithered, unsure what to do - sure the Fox and the Cat would not care about this dead man, since they didn't care that much about Venigni, as he was still alive.

In the end, he had knelt down, and eased off the mouse mask. It revaled the face of the mouse - the stalker. He had been young. Very young. Perhaps he was not even considered a man, yet.

"May he rest in peace," Gemini had murmured, at P's side. It sounded like the right words.

Now, Gemini flickered in his lantern. Almost erratically. But he kept silent. P moved carefully, so he wouldn't jog his father, and dimmed his light. For a reason he couldn't pinpoint, he didn't want his Father to know about how vocal Gemini was.

"He heard my springs," he tried to explain again.

"In that case, I'll see what I can do to make them quieter." Geppetto combed the back of his hair into place. Returned to the front, and brushed his fringe back to how it was. Freed P from that prison of dark hair. He was careful - deliberate - as he continued to style it back to how it was meant to be.

Frowned, just slightly, at P, as he examined his expression. He wasn't aware he was making one - how could he, when he was only a puppet?

"Does it bother you, to kill humans?"

"I don't want to hurt humans." P risked taking his hand off the arm of the chair, to graze his fingers against the glass of Gemini's lantern.

"How interesting." His father put the brush away, picking up the damp cloth again. He paused, the line between his brows increasing. "Do you feel guilty?"

It sounded like he was teasing him, again. P couldn't understand how his guilt would be funny, or how his killing could be of such little concern. He watched the line between Gepetto's eyebrows, and how it wrinkled his forehead.

He could still feel his own springs ticking - was that feeling?

"I don't know," he said.

The line deepened. That was the wrong answer. Surely, the right answer couldn't be no, that he felt no guilt. But he shouldn't feel anything at all, because he was a puppet, so the right answer couldn't be yes, either. He didn't know the tight answer.

"That is..." His father paused. He pressed the cloth to P's cheek, and dimly, he knew it was cold. Knew it was wiping away the oil there. "Interesting, but unnecessary. I daresay many more humans will attack you on your travels. You will have to defend yourself, and those close to you. Even if it means killing."

That was what P had been doing all along - he'd been killing to stay alive. He knew that saying that would be the wrong answer for his father. So, he nodded, instead. He stayed silent, dipping his chin slightly, so his hair fell back in front of his eye. That feeling was comforting; that he could hide, even a small part of his expression. He waited until Geppetto had finished cleaning his face – talking whilst he did so irritated him – to ask, “What if they don’t attack first?”

He heard the smallest sigh from his father, as though he was dealing with a precocious child. Did P count as a precocious child? He tilted his head to one side, to allow his neck to be wiped clean of blood and oil too. There was a scorchmark, there. He hadn't moved out of the way of that giant puppet's flamethrower fast enough, and had felt the sting of heat.

“Then you have no reason to hurt them.”

P’s springs ticked. He knew, in that tick, that what he was going to say would be wrong, and it would make his father angry. He also knew that he needed to say it - he needed to know would be said after.

“Unless you ask me to.”

The cloth came away from his neck. Geppetto washed it in the water, and did not look at him. P sat there, feeling restless, feeling his springs ticking like a clock, and waited. He was supposed to listen and obey this man – his creator. That included attacking who he was asked to. Not because he was forced to, only because he was asked to.

When Geppetto looked up, his blue eyes looked sad. He moved as though he was five years older, brushing P’s hair back, and cupping his cheeks, gently. It made him feel trapped; he didn’t think he liked it.

“I know I keep asking you to commit violence, and to put yourself in danger.” His fingers didn’t twitch. His gaze was searching. He wanted something from P, but P didn’t know what it was, or how to give it. “I cannot tell you enough how precious you are to me, and I am sorry that you must keep fighting like this.”

He waited. He wanted a response.

But all P could think was that he hadn’t answered his question.

Venigni had made himself at home in the hotel.

P knew he was safe - knew he was good and honourable, and on their side - and yet, he wasn't sure he liked Venigni being there. He was so - much. He moved so much, and spoke to much and touched him, much too much.

When he saw P again, he hugged him.

Actually shouted, "Mi compagno!" His arms were tight around P's torso - as though he wasn't worried about breaking him. It was so different from the way his father handled him; from Sophia's soft, barely there touches, and the way Eugenie avoided him completely. It made him freeze. He waited, until Venigni had pulled away. It was hard to read his expression properly, when the gas lamps were reflecting off his gold-rimmed glasses.

"Compagno?" he echoed. His voice sounded barely there in comparision.

"I see Geppetto didn't programme you with language skills." Venigni still smiled. P's own mouth twitched - what would be the need? He wasn't built to talk. "It means companion. You are mine. A companion, and a friend."

P wasn't sure about that. Gemini was his companion. He didn't have the chance to discuss further; Venigni was already circling him, looking him up and down. Examining him, just as closely as his father would. P glanced back, and caught Eugenie's eye, from where she was adjusting a sword handle. Her eyebrows twitched at him, and she went back to her work.

"Amazing. Astounding," Venigni murmured more words in his circling, until they were face to face again. P looked at the floor. He flexed his fingers, focusing on how it felt. "I did not notice before - not with all the-" He waved P up and down; meaning the blood, oil and burns. "But you are truly a masterpiece. Truly the old man's finest work. No offence, Pulcinella."

The puppet stood not too far away from them, and yet he hadn't turned to the commotion. He inclined his head. "None taken, Master Venigni."

P didn't know what to say. It made him feel like a very ornate clock.

"Magnifico," Venigni decided. "And bello too."

"What do those words mean?" P asked, though he could make a good guess himself - it was more to see if he would be told. He stared at Venigni's mustache, instead of his smile.

"I shall let you discover that for yourself, I think." Venigni patted his shoulder. Much more roughly than the reverent way his father would do it. P couldn't tell if that was irritating, or a relief. He glanced over his shoulder, to Eugenie again, and saw her biting her lip. She seemed to be trying not to smile. "Now, I know Giuseppe Geppetto is the puppet man, but if you ever have a problem with that arm of yours-" And Venigni caught P's hand, tilting it, so it caught the light. So the arrow with the wire pointed dangerously at him, but he didn't seem to notice. "-You can always come to me. In fact, I have many ideas - ideas I would love to try."

P stepped forward, to look at the blueprints Venigni had already been drawing up. His arm, he realised, was just like a sword; another weapon to customise.

"To destroy," he said, as he looked at them.

"To protect." Venigni tapped a blueprint that showed a shield attached to the forearm. But then he looked up at P, from across the worktable, his eyebrows serious over his glasses. "To kill, yes, or to save. The thing about weapons is you choose what to do with them."

P stared back at him. Actually met his eyes, for once, and saw that he was serious. And yet - a weapon was still a weapon, wasn't it? Wasn't P himself, still a weapon? But Venigni made it sound pretty, so he nodded. So he picked out a new arm for the man to make him, and wondered how it would feel to go without one at all. He let Venigni talk, and found it somewhat of a relief for his mind to focus on the chatter. Found that the more he listened, the more questions he asked, the more Venigni treated him like a person, and not a fancy clock. That felt even more of a relief.

Though none as much of a relief as when Polendina came by to announce that he'd finished preparing dinner. Venigni waved him away, too intent on his project, but Eugenie put down her work. P said he would accompany her to the dining room - it gave him the perfect excuse to escape from Venigni. He walked with her, even though he would not be able to eat anything at dinner.

"So-" She tucked her hair behind her ear. "What do you think of Venigni?"

P paused. He wondered if he should lie. For once, he thought it better not to. "He's loud."

Eugenie laughed. It was a merry sound that reminded him of Gemini's lantern, when it was fully glowing. "That's true."

"But his heart his good."

She didn't laugh that time. She smiled instead. "Also true. And I think he would like to be your friend, if you let him."

P also didn't laugh, but he felt as though it would be appropriate. (Could he laugh?) He settled for smiling, and nodding.

But it didn't seem as though he had a choice in the matter.

P was starting a collection.

He had very little to put in his own room at the hotel. (There seemed little point in giving him his own room, considering he couldn't sleep, and he rarely stayed long.) All his weapons were kept downstairs, along with his spare legion arms. He did have spare clothes, which he folded and left the chest of drawers. It felt almost like a portrait gallery; a dozen different versions of him. Weapons and clothes were a necessity. He could understand having them. They didn't feel any more personal than the borrowed bed and furniture.

But there were things he’d acquired which weren’t a necessity; things he’d seen and slipped into his pocket, as he'd wandered through abandoned houses and streets. P was drawn to them. He'd been programmed to read, he supposed, and he found that fascinating; how much had been written, and for so many different purposes.

His father had found one of these papers, when he’d been helping to clean his legion arm - to keep it functional. His fingers had brushed against the slip of paper in P’s pockets. He’d slipped it out, without asking.

P didn’t even think to protest. He watched his father read the note he’d found on Elysium Boulevard. The note written by a father with the petrification disease, speaking about his wife and daughter.

Geppetto’s expression became difficult to read; his eyebrows and lips twitched, as though he was reading it to himself.

“Why did you keep this?” he asked.

P had kept the note because it made him feel – strange - made his springs tick in the way which could be feeling. When he’d read it, he could imagine the man holding the quill; imagine the pain and fear that he felt; he’d understood the emotion behind the words. As much as a puppet could understand emotion.

“To remember,” he said. He’d wanted to remember a dead man: to preserve his last moments, even if he was the only one who could. It seemed to be becoming a habit.

Geppetto’s eyebrows twitched again. It shifted his monocle. “Remember?”

“Him.” P pointed to the note.

“But this is just a scribble from a sick man.” And Geppetto moved to toss it into the bin.

P jerked. His hand raised before he realised – his legion arm – and for a moment, it looked as though he was about to attack. He folded his fingers back, looked up, and said, “Please.”

Geppetto still stared at him for a long moment, his gaze calculating, if not, slightly disapproving. But then, he held the scrap of paper out. It wilted, the black lines like lines of ants on the page. P took it, and smoothed it out. His fingers tracing over the words he'd memorized, by now. He folded it, once, and slipped it back into his pocket.

“I never thought that you’d…” Geppetto trailed off.

P tilted his head to one side, looking up again. Did he never think that he’d be curious about humans? That he’d want to know more about the emotions that he wasn’t supposed to have?

“Be so meticulous.” Geppetto finished, but there were lines either side of his mouth that suggested it wasn’t the word he’d first thought of.

P nodded, because he wasn’t sure what else to do. Nodding always seemed a safe reaction.

His father smiled, tightly. “Thank you for remembering to say please.”

It wasn’t a chide, not quite, but it was enough to suggest that P had not been as obedient as he should have been. He hadn’t meant to, but he didn’t know how to explain that. He was a puppet; he was supposed to obey his creator.

But he wasn’t bound by the Grand Covenant. That was beginning to feel like more and more of a relief.

So he kept his scribbles from a sick man. He put the slip of paper in the same drawer as he had the other things he’d collected; the poster for the parade puppet, the figurine of the police officer puppet; the ruined guide to Krat. He sat, at the desk, when it was night, and looked through his little treasures by Gemini’s yellow light.

They were precious, to him, as relics of how Krat used to be. Of who lived there. Of what people were. His father had said the city wasn’t like how he remembered it, but he didn’t remember it at all. His first memory was waking on the train.

P asked Gemini: “Do you remember?”

The shadow of the cricket moved in the lantern. “Bits and pieces, but nothing in particular. It feels more like facts than real memories. Sorry, pal.”

P gave him a small smile. He ran his finger around the lid of the lantern, and kept looking at the parade puppet poster. What would the poster for himlook like?

'So lifelike you won’t believe he’s not a real boy.'

Why did that bother him?

#lies of p #giuseppe geppetto #lies of p player character #lies of p pinocchio #lies of p p #fanfiction #fanfic #multichap #turnupswrites #pinocchio

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