"so uh...my door is kind of... not. working. i need you to fix it. no questions- just get here asapā is what she tells hyuntae over the phone after two years of mostly-nothing. was it wrong to suddenly call without even a proper hello? normally yes, but in marcelineās defense, she couldnāt submit to that. it was more or so a pride thing, and the only other reasonable option was to give him an excuse to come over because the idea of simply sayingĀ āgood to have you back, letās meet up some timeā was much less likely to seem reasonable.
which is why she impulsively broke the hinges off her door with a hammer and quickly deposed of the evidence- being the hammer, somewhere out of hyuntaeās sight: her underwear drawer. great, she praised herself. now all that was left to do was sit back and ignore the occasional blur of her vision, wait on the couch... and sit... without passing out...Ā in slow intervals between five or so seconds, her legs give out and are then reduced to jelly. the room tilts back and forth until its swept rapidly in a dizzy haze.
unwittingly, she passed out.
thereās a strange man that sits through thick murky lenses. this is where the sleeperās subconscious sees that tonight is not like the rest and for once sheās only aware of whatās being played before her, much like a single man in an empty theater. immobile, she watches from an unspoken perspective. the man- monstrously tall, rummages through debris and dark matter with urgency in his gestures. but simply watching alone felt strange. the man was incomplete, this much was certain according to the one watching him. perhaps he was looking for something. something distinctively close, as if all he had to do was reach out and simply...Ā
marcelineās throat heightens but fades, knees sprawled atop the floor the moment she rolls off the couch. the impact disrupts nothing as she slowly descends deeper into sleep.Ā
the monstrous man bears no face, its grip is iron, coiled around the littleĀ subconscious. she observes him without fear, and allows herself to be extracted from this closed space. the manāsĀ gutturalĀ rumbles echo throughout theĀ dreamscape and it pins theĀ subconsciousĀ against a ground that crumbles like concrete. even thisĀ elicitsĀ no reaction. the figure beneath him only stares despite not having a face of her own. though this was no concern to the strange man and its box-shaped head, he was sated enough to know that theĀ subconsciousĀ was sharp enough to refrain from struggling.Ā
they werenāt meant to split, theĀ subconsciousĀ and the man. neither knew how it came to be. the vessel who carried both in her brain was a direct link to the cause, but mending these severed times was easy, so there was no need for any reason. without a moments notice, the monstrous manās head unravels, the safe unlocks with a heavy click. using his gloved hands to tear theĀ subconsciousĀ at the seams, a swarm of intestines and other various shapes of raw meat lurch forward from his open hatch and swallows her from the inside out. now with theĀ subconsciousĀ under its mercy, the vessel will remain unoccupied for a moment, but soon the two will intertwine once more and become one.Ā
her vision fades open towards a blinding light, thereās a vague assortment of shapes and a figure that remain out of focus. from an outside perspective, her eyes resembled glass, indicating that she wasnāt consciously present in the room. she was half awake, a thin trail of drool falling off the corner of her lips. when her hand shoots forward to grab onto the closest limb, she wasnāt aware of it, but watches. her body grips this limb to restrain it, but giving the capacity of her strength, the figure could have easily misread the motion. and so her body moves without her, and there was nothing she could do but observe, going back to the single man in an empty theater.Ā
a whimper arises, masked in thick breaths. she assumes that it was from her but the thought was soon forgotten as her body shoves the figure out of her breathing space, and staggers toward the kitchen meekly. she was searching for something, just like the man from her dreams, only this time her body language was whelmed and passive as she treaded through the vague shapes with care. for the time being, the body subdued, gingerly looking through the walls.
but to her dismay, the vision glitches and suddenly her body appeared in abruptly outside the kitchen with a sharpened knife and fork. the only thing that stood before her was the figure and nothing else. the drool on her chin felt thicker and ran beneath her jaw, her grip of the knife tensed with anticipation, and her stomach rumbled. though the thing that brewed at the pit of her stomach wasnāt hunger. it was arousal.Ā
soon enough, the crease on her lips tighten into a smile, contrasting her body in the most blatant paradox. her left hand toys with the knife in her hand like a skilled magician, dribbling the hilt between her fingers in ways that would have been impossible for marceline to attempt. as she slowly made her advance, the figure before her vision became clearer and clearer until- hyuntae.Ā
her stomach flared immediately after the discovery and she couldnāt tell if it was an act rushing from her body or her mind.Ā her body charged like an incoming train and the knife lunges forward but misses, sinking into a cushion-like surface, most likely a couch. a surge of panic rose at the heart of her consciousness. marceline needed to wake up before any of this gets out of hand. the silver lining between her motor skills and her mind was faint, but she knew that she needed to act with urgency. however for her, waking up is hard, and the back of her brain that lulled her back to sleep was far too tempting to give into. but this was hyuntae.Ā it was like swallowing a swarm of bullets as her mind sat, watching herself struggle to attack the man. thankfully he resisted. considering her small physique and lack of stamina, it would have been easier to contain her erratic movements. but what piqued her more than anything else was that he seemed to be speaking- or hollering, the words were gradually becoming clearer and clearer the more she focused. clear enough for her to understand-
āha.. hyuntae- hyuntae?,āso she finally breathed, hyper aware of everything and anything the moment she awoke. unfortunately allĀ āmemoriesā of the past few minutes have faded into a pleasant void in her mind as if she wasnāt going to eat the brilliant man above him like a gluttonous monster. incidentally, she woke to the other looming above her, herself pinned to the couch. luckily her hands were empty, and she was once again rational- or rather rationally to an extent. her lips- glossed in drool, mouthed a silent what the fuck as her eyes dart from their position, to the mess in her living room. her picture frames were scattered, most of what once stood on her coffee table had fallen over. her own appearance was disheveled but that was probably because she passed out soundly like a sleeping giant over her couch. so what the fuck was happe-
ah. what a damn minute.
hyuntae was on top of her.Ā
and the flare in her stomach swelled infinitely.
based on that alone, the oblivious miss was left with no choice but to assume that...
ever so slowly, a devilish grin graces marcelineās lips, eyes crinkled in sharp slits. it wouldāve been strange to decipher whether she was genuinely happy or genuinely ready to āindulgeā in whatever she assumed happened. āso youāre here, i see,ā she composed calmly, but the edge in her voice was far too dangerous to dismiss,āfunny... no matter how many times iāve imagined this moment, i figured itād be me on top of you.
but then again, you never cease to surprise me.āĀ
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