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tinietaehyun · 1 day ago

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Whims of the Wicked

[Cheshirecat!Taehyun x Lost!Reader] [Wondrous Tales] [One-shot] [Series]

Pairing: Cheshirecat!Taehyun x Lost!Reader

Genre(s): Fantasy, dark fantasy, supernatural, dark romance, action, thriller, Alice in Wonderland inspired.

Contains: Profanity, mention of hallucination, spores, delusions, existential dread, asphyxiation, gaslighting, manipulation, obsessive behaviour.

Links: Wondrous Tales Masterlist || Masterlist

Note: Thank you all so much for the wonderful support on this one-shot series, I’m so glad you enjoyed them all! I hope you enjoy the last instalment of these one-shots!

Summary: You break the loop and take the Hatter off guard by your boldness, managing to somehow bypass his riddles and games. With all your remaining strength, you run deliriously, where? You don’t know.

All you know is the thousands of signs reading and pointing to an “exit” were taunting you. You couldn’t believe them. Not anymore, you couldn’t believe anyone, or anything in this world. You were not stupid enough to follow those damn signs and so, you go the opposite path. Into the Dark Woods.

Finding yourself even more lost and the last of your sanity crumbling away, the pollen in the air making you feel hazy, you’re startled to hear a voice, “Well, well, well, what a pretty thing has stepped into my woods today. Has no one told you I don’t like trespassers, hm?” Your eyes snap up to a man lounging in the branches above with a wide grin, “Don’t look so scared, I don’t bite too hard.”

Arrows. Lots of them. Bewildered, you continue walking seeing the hundreds of decaying wooden sign posts with crooked arrows pointing down a path. Exit signs supposedly.

However, after your delightful time in Wonderland so far, you knew those arrows were far from the exit, and far from pleasant. In fact they’d probably lead you even deeper into this hellhole and make you lose your sanity entirely. You certainly were on the precipice of losing it for sure.

Thus, you find your feet sharply walking in the opposite path. The path twisting and winding toward the Dark Woods, the home of the infamous Cheshire Cat. Well, infamous to everyone here, not you, you didn’t know him at all. Though, through your time here, you’d heard more about the Red King of Hearts more than him.

Perhaps that wasn’t exactly a good thing. It makes you anxious in fact, knowing so little. The Hatter and the King, you were anticipating but this…whoever this was, you had absolutely no idea. Your eyes drift to the murky, misty and dark woods up ahead. Living in a place, so dark, decrepit…such a stark contrast to the vibrant and colourful landscape of Wonderland - it makes you think, truly what would this individual be capable of?

Could you make it past him too, in a twist of fate, like you did the Hatter? You don’t know. Just something deep inside your gut, instinct, you could call it, made you feel borderline nauseous. What monster lurked in those woods. The crooked and jagged silhouette of the trees was already enough to spook you.

The path gradually grows crunchier, less neatly trimmed and pretty morphing into dark dirt, with decaying leaves and dark green and black foliage. Oh…how pleasant indeed. It almost looked like the real world (whether that was a good thing or not, was debatable!)

The trees seem to loom over you as you approach closer and chill runs up your spine making your hairs stand on end. The energy here was ominous, making you alert, even the slightest crunch in your footsteps seem to startle you. Every noise, every breath of yours seemed to be just a little louder than normal.

No birds chirping, no scurrying squirrels, not a single glimpse of a deer or even the buzz of a bee. Nothing. Just the trees and decaying leaf litter below your feet which seemed to sound like you were stepping on bones rather than just leaves, but you didn’t want to think too much into it. How on earth did that one escapee get here and make it out?

This place…it was just so different. So isolated, so secluded away from everything, almost like its own pocket dimension or liminal space unaffected by the insanity inducing tendrils of Wonderland. In fact…as odd as it was, whilst yes, you were shaking in your boots, so to speak, you were also relatively…calm.

Almost as if your fractured psyche was not so fractured, or well almost on a time-out of sorts. Your sanity was almost…suspended. An eerie anxiety inducing calmness within you - the calm before the storm perhaps?

You hated this feeling but simultaneously it was a welcome reprieve from your brain getting turned to utter mush and your perception of- well, everything becoming distorted.

You peer up at the sky, that sunset now moving far too fast for your liking (maybe the sun being stuck in one place was more beneficial for you than you had initially anticipated); the thought of being stuck wandering in here at night, not good. Not good at all. It was already dim, murky and misty enough.

Well fuck. You made it this far, that was certainly something right? Your heart pounds against your chest and shaky breaths leave your quivering lips. Was it just you or did it get rather cold?

No, no it wasn’t, you could see your breaths smoke and swirl in the air as you released them. Okay, good to know you weren’t quite insane just yet. It actually had gotten colder.

You find yourself walking a little faster. You yelp feeling a cold caress on the back of your neck. Was that merely the breeze? Oh fuck. You snap your head to the left - you heard a rustle there. To the right - a snap of a twig. With ragged breaths, you speed up your pace.

‘Run, run, run, pretty thing.’ A whisper crawls up your ear canal and you scream.

The world around you morphs and the trees seem to wane and grow, the spiky, crooked arms seeming to reach out towards you. Were those eyes or just the swirl of the bark? Is that a mouth or just a hole in the tree? Why did the ground feel so unstable?

With closer inspection, why did this air seem to have minuscule specs of white pollen suspended in the air. Had you been breathing all this in? Why wasn’t it there before? Your head pounds in disorientation. Every direction, every tree looked the same.

You grimace, clutching your head and crouching attempting to pitifully ground yourself, “Ah…shit, my head…” Scratch everything you had said before. This place was not relaxing by any means! You couldn’t even think straight anymore.

‘Confused?’ A whisper to your left taunts. ‘Dizzy?’ Another whisper behind you sneers. You frantically peer around only to see nothing. Your heart erratically palpitates in your ribcage, your mind attempts to make sense of the situation.

Taunting whispers, snickers, the rustle of bushes and phantom footsteps. You were going insane! You let out a yell of frustration, piercing through the forest.

A tsking mock resounds behind you making you spin around. You probably looked quite like a lunatic flailing around so pathetically. ‘Tsk, tsk, I didn’t think our newest guest was such a scaredy cat.’

You shakily yell, “Where are you? W-Who are you?” You knew who it was but had to confirm it. It had to be the Cheshire Cat! You hadn’t even seen him yet and here he was toying with you as if you were ball of yarn akin to a cat’s paws!

A malevolent giggle resounds out making a shiver travel down your spine. ‘Mm-mm, now that’s more like it! What a lovely little voice you have…’

A cold breeze brushes against your cheek and neck making you shiver. ‘So pretty too, what a shame; the others didn’t even bother to tell me there was a new guest? Then again, most never make it this far. So…that must make you even more special, hm?’

You snap, your senses becoming more and more delirious, “Show yourself!” A low chuckle reverberates as the mysterious voice muses, ‘Are you sure you want that? Don’t you think it’s safer for you if I remain hidden? But oh well, since you insist. Who am I to deny such a pretty thing, their wish?’ Oh hell no! You should’ve kept your mouth shut!

You begin sprinting, weaving your way through the brambles and foliage, feeling the branches tug at your clothes, scrape against your skin. You had to get out of here, escape these taunting voices, icy touches.

Everything seems to converge, everything looked the same, waning shadows, smiling trees, the darkening sky. It felt as though you were spiralling into an abyss of confusion and deliriousness.

Finding yourself even more lost and the last of your sanity crumbling away, the pollen in the air making you feel hazy, you’re startled to hear the voice again, “Well, well, well, what a pretty thing has stepped into my woods today. Has no one told you I don’t like trespassers, hm?” Your eyes snap up to a man lounging in the branches above with a wide grin, “Don’t look so scared, I don’t bite too hard.”

The air escapes your lungs for a moment as you process the sight. His ebony locks fall haphazardly across his forehead, a few strands over his eyes. Those eyes. Eyes which held forbidden knowledge, secrets, desires, twisted dreams and thoughts. Murky orbs which seem to glimmer with a twinge of curiosity, malice and desire? His gaze pierces into you from his position up in the tree, lounging with his limbs weightless as though he were a big cat. A pointed nose and lush rosy lips, stretched out into a wide smile, a little too wide.

Breathless, you utter shakily, stepping back, “The…Cheshire Cat…” His eyes glimmer and brows furrow as he tilts his head ever so slowly, as though observing every little movement of yours with precision, like a feline zoned in on its pitiful prey.

He laughs sitting up, “Oh…have the others told you about me? I’m flattered, usually they ignore my existence altogether.” Well, he wasn’t exactly wrong, none of the others had mentioned him, well outrightly you suppose, or at all. Only the Blue Caterpillar had.

Your heart races, adrenaline pumping through your vessels. Was he the cause of the voices…he had to be! Your gaze flits up again and you almost jump seeing him staring at you with such intensity. You notice his sharp black nails digging into the bark of the tree.

His grin widens impossibly so; you shake your head. Was your vision going bad? Were you hallucinating- you swore you just saw rows of teeth, his lips stretched impossibly wide. How horrifying. You peer at him again to see his resting smile again, accompanied with a mischievous gaze.

“Oh? Sweet thing, you look terrified. See something you didn’t like?” He coos swinging his legs off the branch. Your heart leaps to your throat, he was going to jump down.

Instinctively, you take a step back and another. However, as fate would have it, your foot catches on a tree root and you topple backwards with a shriek. You swear that root wasn’t there earlier!

The Cheshire Cat lets out a breathy laugh before leaping down with the utmost grace, knees bearing the brunt of the force of the jump down. His hands on the dark leaf litter brace the impact, not a single sound. As quiet as a cat… he tilts his head with a menacing smile, not showing quite so many teeth this time.

He was simultaneously alluring yet terrifying creating a whirlwind of conflict within your body. You could tell. He was different. Much different. Another entity entirely from the others here. There was a whole other aura surrounding him, making you feel nauseous but you also didn’t want to leave. Wait- why didn’t you want to leave?

The Cheshire Cat murmurs, one hand moving in front of the other as he almost crawls, no-stalks towards you, “So much fear, yet so little noise. Usually, my trespassers make so much noise from their screaming; it really does hurt my sensitive ears. I hear everything, you know. For example…”

In a flash of a second, you let out a shrill yelp as he’s suddenly in front of you crouching over your outstretched legs, placing a hand over his heart with a dark gaze, “…your heart. Pretty thing, it’s beating so fast. Are you scared of me?”

Close up, he’s even more infuriatingly mesmerising, a constant smirk on his lips, eyes that held depths that you couldn’t comprehend. His skin almost glistens alluringly under the dimming sky.

He shifts closer; your eyes widening and breath hitching as he outstretches his hand cupping your jaw, not too tightly but firm enough, and pushes upward closing your lips. You have to refrain from disintegrating on the spot- how embarrassing! Your mouth was hanging open!

With a sly grin, he leans down not letting go, “Having those pretty lips parted in shock, have we? Am I that terrifying to look at or…can you not get enough of me? Which one is it?” Even his tone of voice was enough to bewitch any man or woman. Slightly elongated words, a coy edge to his voice, complete with a touch of condescending and seductive tones.

You feel his nail press into the skin of your cheek and he groans, “Oh, you’re so soft. If I press just a little harder…” you whimper as he does so, “I’d have you painted in streams of red.” A delighted laugh escapes his lips making you shudder. “…Yes, yes, oh you’d look so pretty in red.” The Cheshire Cat gazes down at your fearful eyes and muses with an almost patronising coo, “Oh don’t worry sweet thing, I’m not that cruel. I don’t get visitors often, if at all, and well, you’re a sight for sore eyes, so I won’t rip you to shreds and leave you hanging on a branch to rot.”

You grimace visibly at such a revolting thought. He releases his grip and seems to rake his gaze over you with a widening grin, “I’m the Cheshire Cat indeed, but you, you sweet thing, can call me just, Taehyun. Got that?” You say nothing, still reeling in from everything.

His expression falls off his face and he snaps darkly, “I said. Got that?” You stammer, “Y-Yes-“ “Yes, what?” He purrs. You shakily reply, “Uhm…yes, Taehyun?”

An amused laugh almost mocking escapes Taehyun’s lips, “Oh, you humans are always so easy to control. A little fear… a little raising my voice and it gets you to do whatever I ask. How endearing…”

Taehyun reaches out, taking a strand of your hair, wrapping it around his index finger in a nonchalant manner as you’re sat bruised and scraped up, frozen in fear. “You’re rather delicate aren’t you? How did a thing like you make it out this far? Yeonjun would have eaten someone like you right up. Even so, you made it past him. Impressive. Even more so, is fleeing the Hatter. Oh poor Beomgyu. I’m sure you know his pitiful plight? Oh yes, you even managed to get the White Rabbit’s head chopped didn’t you? Oh dear…quite the mess, hm?”

Your eyes widen, he knew everyone. Knew all their mannerisms, situations. He sighs observing the soft strands around his finger, “The sky’s actually darkening. Perhaps I’ll see night for the first time in a long, long time. That’s because you broke the loop right? Quite the feat.” His gaze snaps back up to yours startling you, “Aren’t you just something, oh so, special?”

You murmur tentatively as he lets go of the strand, “How- how did you-“ Taehyun cuts you off with manic glee in his eyes, “How did I know all that?” You nod slowly, shaky breaths leaving you.

“Oh sweet thing…” he leans in incredibly close, breath fanning your face, his murky irises entrancing yours as he slyly grins, “I know everything that I need to know. Even about you..”

You? About you? What? You flinch back, “About m-me? What…that’s impossible- I’m not from here.”He lets out a chuckle, “You’re not. You’re from the other world. The real world, as you call it, no? The boring monotony of humanity lies out there.”

Taehyun’s hand tilts your chin up, his lips inches from yours as he whispers tauntingly. The same as the voices from before. “…that boring old job you have. Typing away. So much dismal paperwork. The same boring routine. Coming home and lounging around, turning that white cat lamp on. Aren’t you glad you set foot here? So much more fun.”

You shake your head frantically, “No, no- absolutely not! This was the worst experience of my life,” your voice cracks, “I feel-I feel like I’m slowly going insane! I can’t stay here any longer otherwise-“ you pause. Wait. White cat lamp? How the fuck did he know that?

You stammer delirious, “How did you-?” Taehyun grins, finishing off for you, “Know that?” Your blood runs cold. He coos, “As I said before, I know, everything. The moment you set foot into this place, you let me into your mind. Let me into your fragile little psyche.” Mockingly, his taps his index against your forehead.

“This little place here, who knows? How do you know if any of this is real? What if it’s just a lucid dream, a fever dream? Oh, did you take any drugs before this?” You shake your head, eyes glazing over as a disgusting sensation of existential dread fills you. “What if you’re just hallucinating? Seeing me?”

All of a sudden he disappears. You peer around in panic. You snarl teary-eyed, “Hey! Hey Taehyun! Get back here! You can’t just-“ He left. An eerie silence permeates the air and you tremble. No. No it couldn’t be. He was just toying with you. Right?

‘Am I?’ His voice rings in your mind. You shriek, “What the fuck?” Did you hear him behind you?

‘Look to the left of you, pretty thing.’

You slowly crane your head to your left and see him standing there with a twisted smile. He blows into your ear, and you grimace scooting back, “Don’t do that!” You splutter out.

Taehyun muses, “Oh? Did you miss me too much in the seconds I was gone?” You snap, “No! I didn’t mean-“ He murmurs, “Well, lucky for you I don’t care what you meant.”

What a piece of-

All of a sudden his index finger presses against your lips and a sly grin appears on his face, “Now, now, let’s not insult me. I don’t like being insulted, Y/n.” Fuck. Even knew your name!

The Cheshire Cat could read your mind. He really did mean that he knew everything. Taehyun really did mean that you let him into your mind!

A breathy laugh escapes his lips, “My, my, having a mental crisis?” He leans down with a dark gaze, “Don’t worry, I won’t pry into your filthiest crevices full of your precious secrets,” he pouts, “I’m not that cruel, you see. Everyone’s entitled to privacy of course, well, that and I’m not feeling that curious. Yet.”

Taehyun sits back leaning back onto his palms with a coy smile, “Ah, I’m beginning to get rather bored now. Should we play a game?” You shake your head frantically with your hands clasped together. “No, no, please. No more games…I can’t handle anymore. I beg.” You couldn’t take it.

Taehyun pouts with a condescending tone, “Aw, is Wonderland’s newest guest tired of playing already? The others must have done quite the number on you then, if you’re so reluctant. But that’s not fair on me, is it? You’ve played with them. Why not me?”

Because you knew this time, you wouldn’t be able to win. This entire place. He could manipulate it with ease, no matter where you ran, his voice would taunt you, distract you, make you spiral into madness.

A devious laugh emits from him, “Mm…quite the pessimist aren’t you, thinking like that. Not even going to try? I was thinking, Hide and Seek. Maybe Tag?” You shake your head, with trembling hands, “I don’t have the physical or mental strength right now for anything, please.”

Taehyun muses running a hand through his raven locks, “You sound so pretty when you beg and plead. Almost enough to make me consider your wishes.” Almost?

The tall man stands stretching his arms with a yawn. He towers over you with a menacing smile, “Yes almost. I like you.”

You peer up at him blankly startled by the random set of words. He resumes, “I like you a lot. So here’s what we’re going to do. As punishment, for trespassing in my woods, you’re going to play one round of tag with me. Think you can manage that?”

Pathetically, you splutter, “That’s not fair! You have so much advantage in this place- I’ll lose!” He lets out a giggle, “Ah, ah, ah, I never said if you lost that it’d be a bad thing. I just want to play. See you in action, after all, you slipped past the others.”

So…just for fun? For his sick amusement?

Taehyun leans down grinning, “Yes. Precisely, sweet thing. For my sick amusement. I want to see your pretty face scrunched up in fear, your delicate limbs deliciously tremble from the very thought of me hunting you down. And after I find you…” a malicious little laugh resounds from his mouth, “Well, anything really. Maybe I’ll comfort you. Maybe I’ll tie you up with some vines, leave you hanging upside down for a while. Perhaps…I can even offer you something that we’d both like,” a seductive twinkle appears in his eyes.

He had just said if you lost it wouldn’t be a bad thing! So what on earth were these options?

“Not a bad thing for me, sweet thing. A bad thing for you, perhaps. Don’t worry, I’ll try not to…maim you in the process. Let me apologise in advance,” he glances down at his nails, sharp enough to pierce skin, “My… nails can be a little…sharp, let’s say. But don’t worry, dying isn’t an option for you. Although, maybe you’ll wish to die, most people do, anyway.”

Your eyes widen mortified as his jaw moves with a sickening crack, rows of teeth appearing as his lips widen horrifyingly. His voice rasps out, “I’ll be a gentleman and allow you a ten second head start. Ten, nine…”

With that, you stand and bolt off in whatever direction. It was pointless, he’d win, you both knew that. It was just a sadistic game to him. However, instinct cried out to you to keep running. After all, you were the prey and he was the hunter.

‘…Three, two, one, here I come…’ his voice taunts you.

Panting, you run as fast as you can, weaving through the trees, jumping over the roots, ducking under branches. The waning shadows and crooked branches seem like they’re reaching out for you, looming ominously watching your every move. It was useless to run, he’d catch you. So why were you doing it? Indulging him? Because you were scared.

Perhaps you could prolong your inevitable fate just that little bit longer. You hiss in pain as a branch tears into your arm as you sprint past. This damn forest!

The caterpillar had said that the way out was here, Taehyun had to know the way out. There was clearly nothing he didn’t know. Would you be doomed to be his toy for his sadistic whims forever?

A menacing chuckle emits from your left side and then your right. ‘I can see you…don’t you look adorable running?’

You attempt to drone out his voice. Run. Just keep running. You couldn’t make it too easy for him after all. The forest seems to spin deliriously around you, your sense of direction lost to the wind.

Your lungs burn, muscles twitching and aching immensely as your stamina depletes rapidly. You weren’t exactly the most fit person- but having it bite you back now, was just dreadful. Maybe you should have paid a little more attention in Physical Education.

‘Slowing down? Don’t tell me you can’t run anymore.’ Taehyun snickers in your head.

You released ragged breaths leaning back against a tree. If you ran anymore, you were sure you would pass out. Tears brim in your eyes and your limbs tingle with pain at the sheer exertion. You close your eyes leaning your head back, lips parted for breath.

What a useless chase…worthless. For a moment, all is silent. You know he’s probably right behind you, prowling around somewhere. Oh well… some twisted part of you thinks, perhaps if you played along, he’d get bored and put you out of your misery.

What the hell? What were you thinking? Had you given up hope so quickly? Your heartbeat eases with your breathing. How has Taehyun not found you yet? Was he just waiting for you to open your eyes?

All of a sudden you hear a breathless laugh. He was here. Your body stiffens and you keep your eyes clamped shut. His voice purrs out, “Found you.”

Yeah, yeah. Of course, how surprising.

Another laugh emits from him, “Don’t think that way. It was rather fun, no? I made it easy for you; didn’t even manipulate the environment. You should be on your knees, thanking me, that I don’t have you hanging by your ankle right now.”

A scoff escapes your lips, “Seriously?” You slowly pry your eyelids open only to see nothing. You peer around the tree—both sides. Nothing at all?

What? Where was Taehyun?

“Tch, tch, tch,” Taehyun clicks his tongue, “Oh you guests always seem to forget to look up.” Your head instantaneously snaps up and you see him lounging in the tree that you were just leaning against. Holy shit! How long was he there for!?

“Since you decided to quit running, sweet thing,” he grins. His hand trails down the bark, nails digging into it, as he gives you a seductive smile, “I really, really like you, you know. You aren’t like the others. Most would have used this chance to try and pitifully escape or run back out of the woods back into Wonderland. But you…”

Taehyun slowly cranes his head, his smile widening into his terrifying grin and wide eyes, “…you didn’t run away, attempt to find your way out. You actually indulged me. You stayed put.” You remain silent.

It didn’t even register in your mind that you could run out of the woods, even if you couldn’t escape Wonderland, you could at least escape the woods and his grasp. So why…?

A giggle escapes his lips, “Perhaps I underestimated you. Maybe you’ve already lost your mind. Mm…or maybe you’re a little twisted, nothing wrong with that,” he begins clambering down, “Nothing wrong with enjoying a little pain, a little hunt—enjoying your sanity shattering.”

Within milliseconds, Taehyun stands right in front of you making you shriek as he grabs you by the throat, twisting you around and slamming you against the bark of the tree, knocking the breath out of your lungs.

A chuckle—half malice, half amusement emits from his lips as he peers down at you. Your lips part, eyes widening egregiously, his fingers squeezing a little tighter around your neck. Stammering, you say, “I-I-I don’t get it- what- why-“

“Because it’s fun,” he muses nonchalantly. “Have I mentioned how lovely your neck feels in my hand?”This sadistic piece of shit! He squeezes harder with a darker gaze, “Ah, ah, such a crude insult, insulting me like that, pretty thing? What have I said?”

Your gaze meets his, his face inches from yours. Your heart palpitates recklessly; shaky and strained breaths leave your lips. Such a piercing gaze, almost as if he were searching through your very soul. Your eyes flit over his face in partial wonder, how could someone so pretty be so deranged?

“It is quite the conundrum, hm?” Damn him and his unlimited access to your psyche!

A mocking hum leaves him as he tilts his head closer, “So you think I’m pretty, hm? My, you have quite the twisted taste. Most are terrified. Is it my smile?” His grip loosens on your neck momentarily allowing your shoulders to slouch in relief.

“Your smile…uh- I don’t think-“ you carefully structure your next words, “…it’s uhm, unique. Special.” He snickers, “Is it now? How cute. Nice white lie.” Taehyun seems to smile down at you, not a terrifying one, but ordinary. A smile carrying amusement, a touch of condescension.

Taehyun leans in even closer, “Mm…I’ve caught you. What should I do with you?”

Briefly, your eyes flit to his rosy lush lips as he speaks the words coyly. Focus. What was wrong with you?

“It’s okay,” he breathes out. “It's not like I haven't had fun with my guests before. In fact, looking at you…” his eyes take in your face and move downward, “I’d say it’d be an excellent use of time, driving you insane with my caress, having you see stars, spasm and come undone with my mouth and touch.” Would you like that? After all…you rather suck at tag. Maybe you’ll be better at this.”

You were sure if it weren’t for this abhorrent place, he’d make a great siren with how seductive he could get. Your knees feel weak and you close your eyes. No…no, he was stopping you from your one and only goal.

The Cheshire Cat was the only being in Wonderland who had such knowledge. Knowledge of the outside world. He had to know the exit. How to leave. Focus Y/n!

Taehyun’s low voice purrs out, “The exit…huh?” A smile coveting pleasure and secrets plasters on his lips. You whisper, quivering from his proximity, “Yes,” you inhale, “…the exit. I want to return to the real world,” your voice cracks, “Please.”

Taehyun’s hand grips your jaw as he coos, shaking your head slightly, “Aw, how adorable. Asking so nicely.” It takes all your strength not to lose your patience at his taunting and condescension. “Mm, so that’s why you’ve chosen to come to my woods and didn’t follow the hundreds of conveniently placed exit arrows and decided to risk everything by trespassing here, hm?” He muses.

“Why? Don’t believe those arrows?” Taehyun grins. You scoff softly, “As if it would be that easy.” He hums, “Mm, sometimes it really is you know. This place is just unpredictable. But in this case, you were right, those arrows lead to a lovely little hole, just waiting for an unsuspecting guest to waltz in and fall to their eternal descent.” Your heart drops, surely not? He was joking right?

‘Oh I’m not, sweet thing, believe me, it’s quite the place. Consider it the junk yard of Wonderland.’ His voice rings out in your mind.

Confusion batters your mind. You came into these woods only to get even more lost. Now that you were in his grasp, was it even possible to leave these woods and flee?

Taehyun’s grin widens, “I wondered when you’d realize that the exit isn’t so easy to find. You’re lost, aren’t you? So lost that you don’t even know which way to go anymore,” a malicious laugh escapes him.

You cry out fisting the fabric of his shirt in desperation, your mind couldn’t take this any further, “Please, Taehyun, please. I’ve had enough, you’re the only one in this place who knows the exit, knows of the real world. Surely you’ll indulge me? You’ve already let one person out of here right?”

He purrs, “Well, yes Alice was rather special, just like you actually. That’s why I adore you so much- just as witty, just as smart, if not more so, and very pretty,” he sighs frowning, “Oh, but she is now very old, quite elderly, truly a sad fact about the real world. You truly wish to return to the land of feeble mortality?”

You nod fervently, pleading, “Yes, yes I do! Just please show me how to leave!” Taehyun cocks his head, seeming to almost consider the request. A dramatic sigh leaves his lips, “Oh, how you guests are always the same, not even one person wishes to stay here.”

Goodness, who would? You just needed to leave no matter what, return to your meager and peaceful life!

Taehyun steps back but remains in front of you, ensuring you won’t just slip by. He says, “Oh, but that’s the problem, isn’t it? You’re too eager to leave.” You stiffen, brows furrowing befuddled.

He resumes with a huff, “You’re so focused on escaping that you’ve stopped seeing what’s right in front of you. The exit isn’t some place that you can just walk into,” he spreads his arms wide as if to emphasise his point.

The fuck? You feel as though your head is going to implode. You didn’t need more riddles or philosophy! Impatiently, you snap, “I don’t care about your riddles! I just need to get out.”

He flicks his hand dismissively; his lips twitching to form another grin, “Oh, but you see, you’ve already found the way out. By engaging with me.” What? What on earth was he spouting?

Blinking, you go to speak but he cuts you off before you can even begin. “The exit is closer than you think. All you have to do is step through,” he gestures to the left of him with a sweep of his arm.

Your eyes widen in shock. Through the mist and amongst the dark trees just up ahead, you see a white glowing doorway bathed in a soft, inviting light. Exhaustion seems to weigh heavy on your limbs and you stare at it in sheer disbelief.

It seems so simple. Too simple.

You snap your head back to him and deadpan, “That’s it? So…that’s the exit?” Your tone is filled with uncertainty but you were genuinely drawn toward the door.

The Cheshire Cat answers, “Yes.” His voice drips with mischief, “It’s right there. All you have to do is go through. No more games. No more riddles. It’s your choice. The door is waiting.”

Your desire to leave Wonderland is overwhelming despite the odd tension in the air. You find your feet seemingly twist and begin stepping slowly toward the door, each step heavier than the next. You are entranced by the ethereal light it emits.

As you reach the threshold of the door, you outstretch your arm, and it seems to faze through the blank space, the space is comforting, like a hug, a warm blanket even. Your fingers wriggle on the other side, a soft breeze brushes past your fingers tempting you further. This…was your escape. Right? Why were you so inexplicably drawn to this door?

You move even closer, the light illuminating your features. Interrupting your moment of tranquility and bliss, Taehyun calls out, “Wait... don’t you want to know what’s on the other side?”

Immediately, you stop in your tracks turning back to him. Wait- what the fuck has gotten into you? Were you just about to carelessly walk into that doorway? Believing the Cheshire Cat of all people?

You stammer, shaking your head to clear your head, “What do you mean? Isn’t the exit the real world? Isn’t that where I’ll be free?” A shudder runs through you as you see Taehyun’s eyes flash with something darker now.

“You think the real world is your escape, do you? Ah, how naive. You see, the problem is that you don’t know what’s real anymore. What if this doorway is just another illusion? A trick, just like everything else in Wonderland?” He utters, voice devoid of any humour or mischief.

His words hang dangerously in the air and you feel your eyes water, you were so desperate. “But I’m so close. I need to leave,” you beg brokenly.

Taehyun raises his hand, with a flick of his wrist, the world around you warps and bends. The trees twist and wane unnaturally, the dark colours begin bleeding together and the mist thickens.

“And yet, here we are, standing at the threshold of the unknown. Tell me, pretty thing—how do you know that’s the right door? How do you know the world you’re so desperate to return to is any better than this one?”

You recoil at his words, any semblance of confidence, or resolute goal you had was in tatters. The forest around you seems to shimmer and shift - the world itself seeming unstable. Was it the world, or was it you? You couldn’t tell anymore.

As you stand frozen, drowning in your whirling doubts, you see Taehyun’s serious expression morph into a wide and sly grin. With a snap of his fingers, another doorway appears beside the first.

However, this one it’s darker, more ominous— glowing with an eerie, crimson light.

“Here’s another exit,” Taehyun gestures to it, “This one leads to another reality. Perhaps the world you’re so desperate to escape isn’t the ‘real’ one after all. What if there’s another reality waiting for you? One where you can have everything you desire. This one is a much safer choice, isn’t it?”

You peer back and forth between the two doors. Overwhelmed, you ask, “But which one is the real exit?”

“How do you know?” He questions, voice barely above a whisper as grins wider. “How do you know what’s real? Every path, every exit in Wonderland feels real. The problem isn’t about choosing. The problem is that you can never be sure. You think you can escape, but you can’t even trust the world around you.”

You clutch your head, shutting your eyes. Your mind is frazzled, your heartbeat seems louder. You were definitely going insane or had you died and ended up in some sickening version of hell? You simultaneously felt like you wanted to scream and weep. Why was everything so difficult? Why didn’t you know what to do anymore?

You stand almost paralyzed by the fear of making the wrong choice, the wrong decision. You were torn between the two doors. The longer you seem to regard the two doors, the more they seem to shift and blur, as if neither one is truly stable.

The leaf and twigs crunch and snap under Taehyun’s feet as he walks towards you, “You cannot trust me, you cannot trust anything in this place. But you can trust yourself. Can’t you?” His voice is mocking, twisted but serious.

“The only thing that is real is you and your choice to move. Because, in the end, the only thing that makes a door an exit is your decision to walk through it,” he finishes off coming to stand beside you.

For a long moment, you both stand in silence. Taehyun stares at you, his sharp eyes fixed on you, glimmering with intrigue, a sadistic delight, curiosity even. You continue to gaze at the two doors, processing his words as they ring out over and over again.

The unmelted remainder of your brain chugs and whirrs pathetically as you once again go over his words. There had to be something, anything to bypass this endless torture of uncertainty. That’s when your brain clicks.

Your eyes widen; a shaky breath resounds from you, these two doors were a trap. These shifting illusions were never meant to guide you out of here. These were here to make a point.

The point being, is choosing to embrace the unknown. Not needing to know the answers. The answer was what was holding you back, keeping you trained to this exact spot in hopeless despair. You had to choose.

The Cheshire Cat chuckles, “My, my sweet thing, you look like a mighty epiphany has been had.” Indeed you did! Taking a deep breath, uncertainty swirls around you but you suddenly feel something shift in the air. You meet his gaze, something had shifted within him too. The way he’s looking at you almost…proudly.

Without a single word, you step toward the door that calls to you the most, that you resonate with. Not because you felt comfortable, no—you had no fucking clue what was on the other side of either door. But you were just going for it. Standing here in insanity inducing contemplation wasn’t worth it.

In other words: fuck it.

As you take the first step toward the door, the world around you begins to unravel. You peer over your shoulder as you hear loud laughter echo. There he was, laughing, throwing his head back, grin as wide as ever. Taehyun runs a hand through his black locks with a twistedly exhilarated expression.

Both of you lock eyes as he steps forward, taking your hands with a manic gaze and wide beaming grin, he brings them up to his lips, a kiss on the back of both hands— enough to make your heart flutter impossibly so.

“Ah, finally. You’ve learned the delightful truth, sweet thing. There is no certainty, no guarantee. There’s only choice, and the courage to take the first step,” he coos, thumb running over the back of your hand, “I have decided to consider your plea, your freedom. You’ve thoroughly impressed me.”

Taehyun leans down, “You’ve certainly entertained me, another person who I’ll never, ever forget.” His hand cups your cheek, before his thumb trails down to tug at your lower lip making your breath hitch.

“Oh how special you are…” he breathes. You look up at him in realisation. As insane, as sadistic and twisted as he was, he truly was the wisest in Wonderland. A being who surpassed comprehension, someone- or something, that no one in their right mind could ever figure out.

All you had to do was last his game- a game in which the very fabric of your mind and psyche would be stretched to their limits. Then, and only then when the Cheshire Cat was thoroughly pleased, would he grant your wish. Guide you to the exit you so desperately seek.

His lips are inches from your, tension between you taut, imposing, some filthy, dark twisted part of you wanted to tiptoe up and press your lips to his. Why? You don’t really know why.

An alluring smile appears on his visage, temptingly leaning down just a little further, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. His other hand grasps yours, intertwining your fingers with his as he squeezes.

Taehyun whispers, “Sweet thing, how you tempt me so, I almost want to snatch you up and keep you here forever,” you stiffen and he muses, “But…that would not be fair, I am not so cruel to keep you here after making you lose your mind.” His gaze flits down to your lips, “Mm, but perhaps you could soothe my aching heart…with a goodbye kiss?”

This truly did feel like a goodbye. Throwing any decorum, any ounce of sanity or dignity out the window, you tiptoe up pressing your lips to his. He tilts his head, lips parting welcoming yours with a pleasant hum. Oh how good it felt, you hated yet loved it. It made you feel sinful but how you so craved it, something about him just made you want to…give yourself entirely.

His lips move against yours deliciously, enticingly before parting with a satisfied smirk and he whispers alluringly, breath hitting your face, “Sweet thing, do you promise to never forget me?”

Forget him? God, he’d be the last person you’d forget. You’d be surprised if you didn’t see him in your dreams (or nightmares), after all this.

Taehyun tilts your head up slightly, “Hm?” You shake your head with a breathless laugh, as you step back prying his hands off you, “I promise I won’t. Definitely not for a while anyway.”

“Not for a while, huh? Oh, I think it’ll be a lot longer,” he muses, raising his hand into a wave. “Now get going, weren’t you so pitifully desperate to get back to that awfully boring place you call home?”

You hear a click of a door opening and you gasp seeing the door you chose open up. The familiar trees of the park, the skyline of buildings, the sky. Home! You step forward, stepping into the threshold and feel the Dark Woods fade behind them. The weight of doubt and indecision lift from your shoulders.

It was about deciding to move—trusting yourself enough to take a step without knowing for sure what lies ahead. The real world isn’t perfect either, and it may not be as certain or clear-cut as you once believed, but you’re free because you are no longer waiting for the ‘right’ door to appear.

With that, your vision becomes pure and vivid white, blinding you with its brightness as you feel almost weightless. Finally, your consciousness fails you as you seem to let your body fall into nothingness.

Soon, a gentle breeze brushes across your cheeks and hair. You feel something soft, something crunching under your head. The scent of grass, a touch of street food, (perhaps a hot dog, or was it pizza?), dust and traffic and vehicle horns resound out as your consciousness slowly comes back.

A buzzing and murmuring infiltrates your ears. It felt as though…there was someone talking. No- a lot of people actually. The murmur of a crowd. All around you.

With a final push, you pry your eyelids open and sit up with a large gasp. A few yelps and a cacophony of muttering, whispering and gasp resound from around you. You squint as the daylight burns your eyes and you raise your hand to block out the ray of sun.

‘What happened to them?’ ‘Is she okay?’ ‘Why were they just passed out on the grass like that?’ All questions that seem to hover around you adding to your confusion and disoriented state. It had seemed in this world only a matter of a few minutes had passed.

You just looked like you had fainted, passed out even. A twinge of embarrassment fills you for a moment. Then you peer down seeing the horrendous black and red envelope that you seemed to be clutching tightly with trembling hands.

With a piercing scream, you toss the envelope away startling the small crowd that’s seemed to form around you. The invite daintily flaps and dances around against the ground being strung by the strings of the wind. God forbid, you ever accidentally enter such a world again.

Never were you picking up random shit on the road after this.

The people around you whisper and murmur whilst you groan clutching your head. Oh you must look crazy right now…

Seems about right, no one has the damn courtesy to help you up! Your body feels heavy, exhausted and fatigued with limbs shaking.

With a painful grunt, you bring yourself to your knees and place your hands onto the floor to steady yourself before you get up. The last thing you wanted was to stand up only for your legs to give out on you.

As you go to stand, you spot a pair of sneakers walking toward you, and you crane your head up to see who is walking towards you. Huh? Purple laces?

You stiffen seeing the person’s hand outstretched. You feel the entire world shift on its axis as any remaining breath promptly leaves your body at the abysmal sight.

“Grab my hand, I’ll help you up. These inconsiderate losers can’t be bothered to help you up? Can they?” His voice muses quietly as he doesn’t wait for you to take his hand, in fact, he wraps his hand around yours and tugs you up. You stumble into him wide eyed and speechless.

The crowd begins to disperse rapidly as you’re standing up and you have to make sure you are still in the real world as you frantically look around.

How the fuck? Since when was this possible?

“Since now,” he finishes off for you clutching both your hands. You tilt your head up to meet his dark gaze, “After all, you promised you wouldn’t forget me, didn’t you?”

Fuck.

“I-I- how- but that doesn't explain- how are you here in the real world?” You splutter and stammer.

You feel a tap on your shoulder seeing an elderly woman, “Dear, are you okay? Seems like you must have taken quite the fall, and understandably so, you must be rather disoriented but,” the woman uncomfortably peers in front of you, “But… are you in the habit of talking to yourself, or is it just rambling?”

What? Yourself? But- you gaze back over seeing Taehyun gazing at the woman who just spoke to you. He grins widely, clutching your hands tighter. “Go on, don’t keep the nice lady waiting.”

Your blood runs icily cold. No way.

“So, I’m sorry to ask, I’m just so confused at the moment, did I get up myself?” You question timidly. The lady seems to fidget awkwardly, “Uhm, yes? Yes dear, you did. Quite surprising, you got up so smoothly, after such an event. Do you need any medical treatment? I know a clinic nearby-“

No you didn’t. Taehyun helped you up. You spin back around with a scream as you fist his shirt, “You followed me out here? She can’t see you? She can’t see you? Only I can? How the fuck is that possible?”

The woman seems frightened by your outburst and steps back, “Uhm- alright dear, I- I best be going, just rest for a bit-“ she seems to back away, rushing off.

A cackle escapes Taehyun’s lips as he covers his hands over yours, grin frighteningly wide as he towers over you, “How? How, you ask?” One hand raises and his index finger trails up the bridge of your nose and rests right in the middle of your forehead.

With a delightedly mischievous chuckle, he whispers, “Because of this,” his finger presses into your forehead. “This wonderful mind of yours. Now, you’ll always have someone to talk to, isn’t that lovely? You should be honoured, Alice has got the same present. Not to worry, I can be in two places at once, three, four. Everywhere. All at once.”

Taehyun cups your cheek once more with a twisted adoration, “So don’t worry, you won’t have to keep those wondrous memories of yours, just that, memories. We can keep them alive, even in this world. Isn’t that nice? Your life won’t be so boring anymore.”

As the words hang in the air, you fall to your knees and let the most soul shattering scream you’ve ever released in your existence.

Oh, did you really think you escaped? Did you really think that pesky little invite would be harmless?

No, no, that invite was the gateway to madness. There was no way you’d come out of that world with any sanity left intact.

After all, that would be preposterous wouldn’t it?

Taglist: [CLOSED]

@naoristerling @staaaarykids @tremendousphantommiracle @lun4kazumii @lunathewritingcat @ur-mother-realnotclickbait @taehyhunnzly @20crowsinahoodie @baekberrie @syraphyina @fullbodyblankets @soohashits @f4iryfever @themochiverse @atiny-chocolate-chip @nothingwithoutgyu @ethystclove @hancafe @nap-of-a-starr @isa942572 @evn-09 @ninitorih @m3chigo @tenleeluvr-blog @matcha-binz @soobunnymoa @sleepyygyu @nicngyu @vicurious28 @kurokkkiko0 @zyoopioo @noraimp @bvqler @lailols @iiisusy @astridxxxx @kookiesbunny @scrumptiousloser

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multipleoccupancy · 23 hours ago

Text

"Not the best conversationalist," Theo explained before miming a fish mouth movement, though the fish he had seen had not shut up the entire time, at least it had been company even if what it was saying was near enough gibberish. Unaware that he had prompted her to question her own experience in his own commentary.

She apologised for the trouble and he shook his head, waving a hand dismissively for it. "It's not your fault," he said clearly, though he didn't mention that he hardly remembered it until she brought it up again. "I think we both did really well to get that far, we should be legends in the ward." He cracked a smile, "maybe if the other patients know we might have a little more respect, if they don't at least the orderlies might be a little more thoughtful in what they do." He doubted it but it was nice to pretend.

Her confirmation that the screams were real didn't seem to shock him, in fact he just nodded with some understanding about them and for her seeing them dragging a body in a bedsheet. "It happens sometimes, maybe the orderlies were too heavy handed or another patient did it. I guess it's why they like to make sure no one can be hidden in a room and why they want to be able to see you like right now." He suggested, as if it was normal. He had no idea what had happened and the gurgled scream he had put down initially as a hallucination was unusual but not so surprising on the ward.

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

"Thanks," she smiled, taking the blanket he was handing him. She used it, folded, as a makeshift pillow. It was definitely much more comfortable than the cell's cold, hard tiles.

Violet managed a sad chuckle. She could tell Theo was trying to make light of their terrible predicament and didn't want to dishearten him. "I don't think it did, but a fish with a hat sounds much nicer than the orderlies," she replied, attempting to joke back, but unsure if she was having much success.

His comment about his hallucinations did give her a moment of pause. Could she have hallucinated, too? Her fuzzy memory might mean she had been given medication. But the Hound... no. It was real... right?

She nodded. "We got very far, yes," she conceded. Violet didn't have the heart to despair Theo with the many flaws her father had pointed out. The truth was that their plan would have never worked. "But we paid quite the hefty price for it." She brushed the back of her neck. "Sorry I got you in all this trouble, Theo."

"The screams were real," she assured him, "we both heard 'em." That had to be proof that it wasn't a hallucination. "I saw the orderlies carryin' a body, wrapped in bedsheets. I think someone died, yes..." She shuddered.

#hvbris #killian #violet #asoue au

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thatnonameuser · 1 day ago

Text

The Red King holds a Bleeding Head

A Wonderland of Yanderes - Masterlist Chapter 1. Heartslaybul Part 8.

Going down the rabbit hole that is your mirror a third time feels a little more normal. Even though traveling through it to begin with is the definition of crazy, you’ve started to get used to it. Just like the last two times you awaken to your bedroom, you feel smothered by that sensation of being forced under something heavy and lying on a fluff cloud. Your mirror ripples and gleams a bright white light that beckons you forward.

You’re not exactly prepared for this, but you don’t have any time to. You throw off the odd feeling blankets and make your way to the mirror, which is sparkling in its usual white light.

You take a deep dream breath to steady your nerves. You want this trip through the looking glass to be different this time. Instead of you stumbling through the mirror world completely blind, you need to go through determined to find answers.

You’re smart enough to recognise the pattern. Whatever happens there seems to happen in your dreams, to some effect, have happened in real life. The painted roses, the cards soldiers, and Ace and Deuce, being beheaded by the Queen for breaking the rules. There’s a pattern and if it keeps up tonight, then tomorrow during the duel something is going to happen that will be similar to your dreams.

Plus, there’s also the King of Hearts. He and Alice were the only ones who could see you so far, and Winston was the darling of the Queen. There had to be something that he knew that could help you. And if your dreams were really sending you back in time to meet them, then he had to know something that can help you. Even if it was a tiny detail, you needed to know.

Plus. If your deduction was correct, then Crowley had done jack all since you arrived to send you back home, then maybe you could find something out from someone like you. A darling that’s terrified. If it’ll lead back home, it's worth a shot, right?

Now invigorated with courage, you place your hand on the glass, and it ripples. And you’re pulled into wonderland.

You’re somewhere unfamiliar. As in it doesn’t look like the rose maze anymore. In fact, this place looks very different.

The rose garden is beautiful, the hallway you’re in now is ominous. Even with the gaudy red hearts. The black, white and red are smothering here. The hallways narrow, but ornate. It’s covered with heart-covered and heart-shaped vases, picture frames, and statues. The hallway’s lit up by heart shaped lamps that glow gray, meant to give off light but feel the room feel so dark. The manic and exaggerated shapes and the monotony of the overwhelming crimson red makes you feel a little tremble.

You take hesitant steps down the hall, scanning them for anything helpful or clues.

“This is…new.” And so far what’s new makes you feel chills. “What is the mirror trying to show me n-”

A deafening roar of <Off With Their HEADS!!!> echoes through the halls and interrupts your thoughts and makes you jump in surprise. The roar makes the decor shake and rattle, some fall and shatter.

You gulp nervously and your heart speeds up. This doesn’t feel right.

Another roar fills the air <SILENCE!!> makes you hasten your footsteps. Whatever’s happening you're missing it, and you need all the help you can get right now.

You run down the hall to nowhere, finding no doorways, until the hall ends. It’s a single door, knee high and heart shaped.

“How the hell am I supposed to-” Another roar fills the hall and breaks a nearby lamp. “Alright, I’m going!” You shove it open and crawl through, and it shrinks around you just to make things worse, After a mild struggle, you finally get through, something better be on the other side-

Something grabs you by the back of your pajamas, and you hauled up to be faced with the King of Hearts.

And he looks angry. <What are you doing here?!> He whisper-yells, shaking you by your shoulders.

“I-I-”

You don’t get to put a word in, and shit must’ve hit the fan hard when you were gone because Winston starts ranting. <What are you, the Cheshire Cat!? You were there one moment and gone the next! I’m stressed out of my mind trying to keep a girl alive and you just keep popping up to make things even more stressful!!!> He pauses for a moment, to recollect himself, <H-How did you even get here?!>

“I used the door-” You turn and point to find no door or wall and instead find a sharp decline into a certain death behind the haphazard judge’s bench. “Nevermind” You quickly finish as you take a nervous step back from the ledge.

<Well, it doesn’t matter you have to->

<Winston, sweetheart, who are you speaking too?> The voice that pipes up is mockingly fond. As if they’re entertaining a child speaking to an imaginary friend. You look past Winston, to see a stout woman that looks suspiciously like the Queen of Hearts.

No seriously, her mocking, smiling face looks so punchable, that it reminds you of Riddle. A heart shaped with high cheekbones, and a glare that rivals Riddle Rosehearts, her black hair is tied up into a rose shape, slick backed, smooth and orderly. Her dress is extravagant even in the field of black and white, red undertones over taking the dress. Her crown is larger than Winston's, cementing to you that she is in charge and he’s unwillingly along for the ride.

She looks like a real person this time. Are your dreams progressing? Becoming more detailed?

Winston looks at her incredulously, you can hear him mutter, <C-Can’t you see her?...> Pointing in your direction confused.

<There’s no one there, Winston. Are you imaging things again?> The King of Hearts spares you a conflicted look, before finally agreeing with her.

<I must be…..> He says after a few long moments.

<Of course sweetheart. How could you survive without me?> She chuckles to herself, and you feel the urge to punch someone again.

A soft voice snaps you out of it. <Um…Your Majesty?> You finally notice Alice from her place down below. She looks a mix of exasperated, confused and terrified as she stands in the defendant’s chair. The Queen redirects her ire back to Alice as soon as she raises her voice. She screams like a banshee and roars like a violent loud animal.

You take advantage of the noise to speak to Winston. “Winston I-”

He interrupts you, losing himself to his ramblings, <I’ve finally lost, haven’t I?> Winston laughs bitterly. <You’re not real, you’re just a figment of my imagination…>

“No. You haven’t and I’m not.” You push, desperate to make him see reason, “Alice has seen me before, I’m real!” You hurriedly whisper-yell.

<HAPPY UNBIRTHDAY TO YOU!> A cake and teapots, and all the fixing that remind you of the buffet yesterday at Heartslabyul. The Queen and nearly everyone in the room are excitedly celebrating while Winston and Alice look exasperated. Seemingly exhausted from the shenanigans that are ensuing before you.

“W-What’s happening?” You raise an eyebrow in complete confusion. Yesterday an unbirthday party made sense because it was a party at a dorm then a trial room with a death sentence.

Winston sighs in abject misery, <A trial. I did it to save Alice from losing her head, but this nonsense is a trial. And I thought back home was crazy.>

You perk up at his words. Back home means that he’s not from wonderland so if that’s the case…Just to be sure, you ask. “You’re not from here?”

He looks at you curiously, still halfway between believing you’re real or not, <I-I’m from London, England. I came here by accident and have been stuck here ever since.>

“You know where London is?” You feel hope bloom in your chest, “Are you from Earth?”

<Yes, but->

You interrupt him in your budding excitement, “Then you have to help me! I’m stuck here, like you and Alice!”

You haul the king up by his shirt. “Would you rather be stuck here forever?! If there’s a way out, we need to take it!” You can ignore the ‘being stuck here ever since’ part for now, because if he and Alice (who are real in this world) come from Earth and know about a way back, then that means there’s a way back to your world from Twisted Wonderland. Alice goes home at the end of the story, so there is a way back home for you in this world. And you need that way out. You just need to get to it.

<I’ll help you on one condition.>

“Anything!”

<Help Alice. I can’t let another person die.> And then he shoves you. And then you're falling. You don’t even get the opportunity to scream as you’re pushed. Falling off that deathly edge, and hitting the floor hard.

“Ow….” Damnit Winston, if you weren’t stuck in the same situation as him, you’d curse him out

<Miss, you’re back!> You slowly open your eyes to see Alice standing over you in worry, still completely black and white. <W-Where did you come from?>

“A place like you.” Alice lights up at your words, “How’s your trial going?” only to deflate five seconds later.

<It doesn’t make any sense, this trial doesn’t follow any rules.> You climb to your feet brushing off the imaginary dust off your dream self.

“No, it does.” You’re forced to admit. “They’re just horrible rules.”

<Well, this really isn’t-> Whatever justifiable statement is cut off by the Queen being undistracted by the unbirthday celebrations.

You don’t even know what happened next.

One moment, Alice is pointing out the Cheshire Cat, her words, on the Queen’s head, and the next the Queen is a mess of jam and her torn flag, with a new bump on her crazy head. And Alice is holding the mallet and jam when the Queen finally clears her eyes.

Winston bangs his head on the judges bench in defeat, at the sight of the mayhem.

“OFFF with-” the Queen interrupts herself, as Alice hurriedly stuffs her face with two pieces of something you don’t recognise. Her eyes go wide for a moment, as her muscles twitch and her body contorts in places. She then grows over a mile high. Because of how rapidly she grew, you end up on the giantess Alice’s shoulders.

<Oh, are you alright?> Alice asks, concerned. You give her a thumbs up in reply as the nausea in your gut trembles, before giving way. Now calmed, knowing one of her few friends here are okay, Alice focuses her attention on the tyrant whose red face has gone pale. <And as for you, Your Majesty….’Your Majesty,’ indeed!> The mushroom that Alice ate causes her to grow as tall as the trial room ceiling is high. You cling to her shoulder with your nails, not wanting to fall from this height. What crack did you smoke last night to dream this? Anyway, Alice takes her moment to finally tell off the pompous queen, with all the confidence that a seven year old can have.

The queen shrinks back in surprise at the seven-year old’s new size, and Alice chooses this to be the time to finally tell off the tyrant.

<Why, you’re not a queen. You’re just a fat, pompous, bad-tempered old ty…tyrant…> As if Alice couldn’t get any more unlucky, the mushroom’s magic wears off as she starts to lay down the facts. Her confidence dies as she shrinks back to size. You tumble off of Alice’s shoulder as she shrinks smaller and smaller. And the longer she speaks, the more the Queen’s glare gets more and more murderous.

<Mmhmmhmmhmm….> You, even at this distance, can see the fear painting across the King’s face and worry on Alice’s. This isn’t good, and the longer the Queen holds that note the more grim those looks become. You embrace the shaking girl. You can hear her whimpers of ear the longer this draws out. <What were you saying, my dear?>

A cat pops onto the head of the Queen, reminding you of Chenya even with the black and white, who parrots the, now shaking, Alice’s words. <Well, she simply said that you’re a fat, pompous, bad tempered old tyrant!> The cat cackles, as the Queen’s face turns red, contrasting the black and white.

You watch as the card soldiers jump from their seats to descend on the two of you as Alice clings to you for dear life, as the card shoulders dive to deliver her to her death sentence.

But before the avalanche of card soldiers obscure everything from view, you can hear the King of Hearts beg his wife and captor to spare the poor girl. <Darling she’s just a child!>

And then the world blurs.

You’re back in your bed. Alice isn’t in your arms anymore, instead it’s Grim.

Why won’t anyone stop the queen? Someone could have stopped her.

AND THEN YOU COULD’VE GOTTEN YOUR EXIT!! FUCK!

Great. Winston had promised to help you if you helped Alice. And now you can’t go back till you go to bed! And that’s if Alice hasn’t gone home or lost her head yet! YAY!

You groan before sitting up, not expecting the violent pain in your neck. You then hiss in pain, just barely managing to massage the flesh locked under the collar.

What a great way to start the morning.

But there was some good news. The tyrant queen will get called out for her tyranny. That’s something to look forward to at the duel today. Still doesn’t make you feel any better though.

“Ugh, Great.” You rub the exhaustion out of your eyes, to be face to face with Grim.

“Hey, ____! Ah, good, you’re already up!”

“Didn’t exactly have the best sleep.” Maybe you should tell grim about your dreams, just in case. But that’s a later thing, “Ready to get these collars off?”

“Yeah!”

Back at the tyrant’s castle, er, Heartslabyul, the residents have all gathered in the magical battlegrounds within the rose garden. Why someone built a magical battlefield in the middle of a flammable rose maze must have been a tyrant themselves, because why someone didn’t bring up the flammable part at some point during the dorm’s construction was a question you’re not stupid enough to come up with an answer to.

Speaking of tyrants, Riddle must have gone on a power trip stoked by his tantrum yesterday. Because the number of students wearing collars, minus or plus Ace and Deuce pick one, has to have doubled in one night. Seriously, a good quarter of the audience has to be wearing collars.

And because of said collars, this duel is going to go south real fast. Because Riddle’s already fucking cheating with his signature spell. Seriously, magic nullification should not be allowed in duels like this but for some reason it is.

But back to the duel of the century, for just Heartslabyul. The dorm residents have been gossiping since your group’s arrival….

“Did you hear? They say someone’s challenged Dorm Leader Rosehearts to a duel!”

“Riddle Rosehearts? Seriously?! Whoever it is has gotta be outta his mind. Riddle will have his head off in five seconds flat.”

…about how stupid this decision was. You mean, you agree, but they’re the ones living under a tyrant. Have a little positivity, everyone.

Thankfully, there are few who have held onto the aforementioned positivity.

“Still, it’s the first challenge since Rosehearts took power. I’m pumped!” In your opinion, the dorm should be like that guy. That guy has a little faith.

Also, Trey apparently didn’t warn Cater about the duel that was probably going viral on Heartslabyul’s Magicam, because he looks completely shocked as you told him about the shit preparing to hit the fan. “You’re saying Ace and Deuce are challenging Riddle for the dorm leader’s seat?! Please tell me you’re kidding!”

You sigh, “I’m not, Cater. Wish I was.”

“We tried to stop ‘em.” Correction, Trey. YOU tried to stop them, he sat there and did nothing like with Riddle. Seriously, the bystander effect is strong with Trey; it's like he’s afraid of saying something when he needs to. Did Riddle’s mom traumatize him too!?

Cater looks positively miserable at the revelation. “Of all the stupid ideas…I just hope this doesn’t make everything worse.”

“You and me both.” Trey agrees, but now you're both curious and concerned. Just how much worse is worse?

Crowley’s clearing of his throat silences the crowd’s chatter. Kinda concerning that he's more focused on two students dueling a dorm leader than the rampant abuse of power that’s going on in this dorm, but whatever it’s not like negligence is a crime or something. Though it probably isn’t given your experience so far.

“We are about to commence two challenges for the dorm leader position at Heartslabyul House.” He announces as grandiose as possible. “The first challenger is Ace Trappola, the second challenger is Deuce Spade. The current housewarden they have challenged is Riddle Rosehearts.”

“Now, in accordance with the duel rules, please remove the magic-sealing collars as they would provide an unfair disadvantage.” Oh, you were waiting for that.

Riddle snaps his fingers and the collars dissolve away into sparks, leaving behind red marks around Ace and Deuce’s necks. Given Ace has been stuck in that thing for two nights you can’t imagine the relief he must feel. “Ah! FINALLY, the dumb collar is off!”

Yours and Grim’s are still on though. Oh, did he just forget that you and Grim were collateral damage to yesterday’s rampage? You can feel your rage rising.

“Enjoy your moment of freedom. The collar will be back on soon enough.” Riddle’s cocky smirk looks so punchable, and you feel an itch in your fingers. Still cockiness might be his downfall.

But before that…..

“Hey, Rosehearts!” You call out, “ Just to point something out,” You say as sarcastically and humorlessly as possible, “could you please remove mine and Grim’s. We’re not even in your dorm!” Riddle sighs, as if you’ve been bugging him about this for hours, before finally unlocking the literal weight around your and Grim’s necks. And you breathe a sigh of relief. “Thank you.” The ‘Asshole’ part goes unsaid, for fear of making this worse.

Now, that the cone of shame on your neck is gone you can let them return back to the pre-duel banter. “Carry on.” You say with a dismissive wave of your hand.

Riddle hmphs, returning his focus back to his two challengers. “I could hardly believe it when I heard you two intended to duel me. Is this a joke?”

There’s a “Do I look like I’m joking?” from Ace and a “I’d never propose a duel as a joke!” from Deuce. They’re not backing down now.

“Hmph. Have it your way. Let us get this over with.” Indeed, let’s get this over with, because you might have a room to clear out when this eventually fizzles out. That doesn’t mean you won’t cheer for Ace and Deuce, Bravery is still something to praise even if it’s on par with stupidity.

But like before, Cater intervenes when he really shouldn’t, “Uh, Riddle, what do you want to do about today's afternoon tea?”

“A foolish question. You know that the rules stipulate I take my tea everyday at 4 PM sharp.” Oh, so he’s cocky that he can finish this in, what, thirty minutes.

“It’s just that it’s already past 3:30….”

“And you fear that I will be late? All the more reason to end this promptly.” So he’s very cocky. You can only hope it will be his downfall.

“It appears I have little time to waste. Rather than facing my opponents in succession, I will take on both at once.” Oh. Wow, he’s…..he’s arrogant if he thinks that. Well, Ace and Deuce are probably screwed.

The cheers of the dorm residents fill the air as stiff and empty as they were yesterday.

“You can do it, Dorm Leader!”

“Knock ‘em dead, sir!”

You can see Trey shake his head to your right, so he still hasn’t said anything. Coward.

“Cowards,” you hear Deuce say, and you agree, because you’re looking right at one. To say that you don’t want to hurt his feelings after a hard time, when you’re letting him force that hard time onto others is the definition of cowardice.

“Myah, I got a bad feelin’ about this.” You squeeze Grim tighter.

“I do too, Grim.”

“Hey, at least we got a plan!” A plan that already hangs on by a thread, Ace but you’ll accept his confidence.

“Headmaster, please give us the signal.” Riddle’s already sure of his victory even before it starts, and he might be right, but a part of you wants him to suffer, just a little.

“When the mirror, I’ve thrown shatters upon the ground, that is your signal to begin. Ready…Go!”

“You guys can do it!” You offer them some encouragement, but….

“OFF WITH YOUR HEADS!” You saw the way this battle ends from miles away.

If you're being generous, you’ll call that another deja vu moment. This insanity of constant ‘beheadings’ is starting to become grating. But, you hope the ending of the calling out part comes sooner rather than later.

“That was…..fast.” You say glumly, it’s sad that they failed so quickly but at least they tried. It had to be, what, 5 seconds into the duel before the collars locked on and it was over. Saddening, upsetting but expected.

Well, now what?

“Visualization is key to spell casting.” Crowley starts an unhelpful speech about magic. It’s not really helpful in this situation, because if Riddle has his way from now on Ace and Deuce are going to be wearing those collars till Riddle graduates. “The better you are at accurately visualizing your magic’s effect, the stronger and more precise it will be.”

“They lost in less than ten seconds, you’re not helping Crowley.” You point out the explicitly obvious, because it doesn’t fucking matter about how visualisation is important when a. They lost before they cast a single spell, and b. They can’t even use their magic to practice now. “Still, it would appear Mr.Rosehearts has finely honed his magic.” Ouch, salt in the wound. Stroke the tyrant’s ego even more too. Crowley’s just batting zero right now.

“Myah…They didn’t stand a chance.” Grim bemoans at the loss.

You sigh, “Well at least they tried….” it wasn’t really an attempt even but at the very least. You force a smile on your face as you approach your two friends, “You guys did your best, or were going to your best..” You add unhelpfully, before giving them each a gentle smile. . You might have to just let them stay it seems.

Ace opens his mouth to reply but someone else does to add their unhelpful commentary. “Hardly. They didn’t even last five seconds.” You can hear Ace and Deuce growl as you turn to face the cocky tyrant.

That cocky, self-righteous brat keeps adding his unwanted opinion. “That was all you had, and still you thought to challenge me? You must be utterly humiliated.”

You glare at him, “You won already. Stop rubbing it in.”

Riddle’s too high on his high horse to seem to be aware of what happens below. “I guess my mother was right. A man who cannot follow rules is a man who cannot achieve anything.” You’re going to put a knife between that woman’s eyes if you ever meet up. Mommy undearest’s parenting has screwed him up so much that he’s doing the same thing to the people he lives with.

If Ace or Deuce actually won this battle he probably would have been run out of the dorm.

“Tch…We agree that rules should be followed. But forcing others to follow nonsensical rules like the ones you’ve enacted is tyranny!”

“Then you agree that breaking the rules is wrong. And in this dorm, I AM the rules.” Is…is he serious? Did he miss the second part of Deuce’s sentence? “Therefore, those who cannot abide by my decisions deserve not the heads they use to complain!”

You had enough of this.

You’ve bit your tongue bloody, thanks to this brat’s tyranny. You've been inconvenienced again and again because of his pretentious and frankly ridiculous rules.

Screw manners, screw survival, and screw this red-haired little absolutist pain the ass! “But that’s not right! You can’t just use the rules to do whatever you please!” You yell in fury.

“I am the one who decides what is wrong and right-”

You cut him off. “And you’re also a pain in the neck and the ass, that pretends he’s the perfect student that can do no wrong, because mommy said so!” His eyes widen in shock as you finally, finally go off the leash you tethered to yourself this entire time. And you’re not done. “How can you be so blinded by your own delusions that you can’t even see how unreasonable it is to follow, frankly, the most STUPID of rules!?!” You can feel your cheeks warming and the blood in your ears roaring in boiling hot fury. You can feel someone try to calm your rage with a hand, Deuce’s, on your shoulder. You’re pissed and tired and angry and what does he do?

He continues talking like you didn’t say anything. “If there were no penalties, no one would follow the rules.” You;re going to punch him.

“You!-” What he says next cuts your thoughts and words off completely.

“What sort of pitiful education have you received, that you cannot follow such simple rules? Clearly, you were born to parents with no great magical capability. As a result…you lack even the basic education necessary to attend a school such as this. It’s quite sad.”

You blink, taken aback. The rage in you is stunned into pacification.

He did not.

He did not just say that about you.

“You-” You can’t even string your thoughts together completely stunned. You can forgive someone being unreasonableYou feel something different from rage, something stronger, boiling inside you.

“You little…” Deuce releases you, prepared to pummel the tyrant into the ground but…..

“You shut your spoiled little mouth!” Ace dashes forward fist raised and-

He punches Riddle clean across the face.

Hard enough to knock Riddle off his feet. Ace quite literally beat Deuce to the punch.

So many voices speak up in shock and surprise at Riddle, the untouchable dorm leader, finally eating his just desserts. Right in the face too.

You don’t say anything, staring at what’s about to unfold, with a blank expression.

“That’s all I can take. Forget Riddle. Forget the duel. I’m done.” Just like Alice in your dreams last night, calls out the now stunned red sovereign.

“That hurt! You…p-punched me?!” Riddle’s genuinely stunned. Is stunned by his house of cards finally starting to collapse around him? You can’t bring yourself to care.

Ace spits some facts.

“Kids aren’t trophies for their parents to flaunt. And the accomplishments of a child aren’t determined by the worth of their parents. It’s not your parents’ fault you became a tyrant -or anyone else’s. You’ve been here a year and haven’t even made a friend who will tell you you’re outta line. And that’s on you.”

“What are you even talking about?”

“Yeah, maybe you had some rigid upbringing from a relentless helicopter-mom. Is that all you are? An extension of her? Can’t you think for yourself? You call yourself the ‘red sovereign’. You’re just a baby who’s good at magic.”

“Baby…? Did you just call me a ‘baby’?! You don’t know anything about me! You don’t know anything about anything!” But despite the honest truths that Ace is trying to make the pretentious tyrant hear for what has to be the first time in his life, Riddle refuses to listen.

“Nope, sure don’t. And I don’t need to. Your attitude tells me all I need to know- that you’re nothing but a spoiled brat!” Ace doesn’t let up on the lecture Riddle probably needed to hear last year.

Riddle’s face is starting to turn pink from his blind anger. “Shut up, shut up, shut UP! My mother was right! And that means I’m right too!” Riddle practically roars in anger. He’s shaking from barely repressed rage.

Trey steps between them to prevent what has to be a near disaster, trying to pacify the screaming tyrant. “Riddle, calm down. The duel is already over.”

“Mr. Clover is correct.” Crowley The challenger has been disqualified due to physical violence. If you do not cease your conflict now, I’ll have you written up for breaking school rules!” But even with the threat of breaking his own personal rules and being a rule breaker himself doesn’t soothe his rage. It doesn’t matter here anyway, because as long as no one is willing to stand up to-

“Ace is right, though! I’ve had enough of Riddle!” A voice in the crowd shouts, and he throws something small aimed directly at Riddle’s head.

An egg cracks in Riddle’s hair. Egg goop trails down his face. You fight back a laugh with all your willpower. Well, color you impressed. The card soldiers aren't completely useless, brain dead drones.

For half a second everyone is frozen solid. And then the egg practically cooks on Riddle’s face as he searches for the offender, completely infuriated. “Who did that? Who threw that egg?!”

And this time, the silence feels both suffocating and glorious. At least the cowards have finally stood up for themselves, at least a little. Unfortunately Riddle, instead of taking the obvious hint the egg to the face was, he laughs. And it’s not a composed one.

“Heh heh…Ah ha ha ha!” It’s an insane one.

Riddle snaps at all of the now cowering dorm students“You say YOU’RE fed up?! I’M the one who’s fed up with all of YOU!”

“No matter how strict I am, no matter how many heads I remove, you keep breaking the rules! All any of you care about is doing what YOU want to do! If the guilty party won’t come forward, then I’ll pass judgment on all of you!”

“Clearly, none of you value your heads! OFF WITH YOUR HEADS!!!” Like a tyrant gone wild, collars lock on to every single one of the residents' necks, save Trey and Cater, sealing off their magic. You’re getting real tired of hearing that.

The Heartslabyul residents scatter like headless, heh pun unintended but fitting, chickens. “Bwaaah! Let’s get out of here!” “Urrrgh!”

Riddle, reassured that his tyranny will last, shoves past Ace to rub in his ‘victory’ to Ace.“How do you like that, hm? Now no one can do a thing to me! Do you see now? My strict adherence to the rules was clearly the correct path!”

Crowley still does nothing to calm, or now that Riddle’s actually broken some rules, to punish Riddle for this insanity. “Cease this improper behavior now, Mr. Rosehearts. I expect better from you!”

“Crowley, could you maybe actually do something!?!” You finally point out the utter stupidity of him not doing anything while Riddle literally abuses his power.

“Uh…Trey, if he keeps using his spell…This could get ugly, fast!” You barely hear Cater over the chaos.

Trey does, still trying to separate the fuming Riddle away from Ace and a catastrophe. “Riddle, stop this!”

Ace might be perspective but he’s incapable of reading the room when shit really starts to go bad. “Wow, way to totally prove me wrong here, pal! I call you a baby and you immediately throw a temper tantrum!”

Riddle’s face goes deep crimson. “Retract your comment immediately, or I shall skewer you where you stand!” He yells.

This might not be good.

Ace doesn’t let up “No way. I ain’t retraction’ squat.”

Face red, eyes full of rage and mania, Riddle’s reached the point of fury where words are impossible and yells of anger are the only sounds that can be made. “YEEEAAARGH!!!”

“Dude, this is bad! You’ve G-2-G, now!” You feel a hand on your wrist, Cater's, dragging you away from the rampaging tyrant.

And then you're blinded by the debris.The earth shakes for too long as the rose bushes are yanked out of the earth, the fragile yet heavy bushes floating high in the air. Ripped up from their earth , roots and all, and float in mid-air. The roses and their thorny brambles writhe under Riddle’s magic.

Debris and dirt float through the air, alongside the rose bushes.

“W…Whoa…” You take a nervous step back, “Shit.”

“The rose trees! They’re floating!”

“This is some serious magic!”

The roses and their brambles might not be the strongest weapon, but Riddle’s magical strength is powerful, as you watch the roses and branches become arrows, perfect for tearing flesh from bone and crushing the rest.

“Mighty roses, tear this brute to pieces!” Riddle yells, completely blinded at his anger. The roses, thorns and all fly like arrows aimed directly at Ace. A deadly shot, if it lands.

“Ace! MOVE!” You dash forward, but a pair of arms are around your waist holding you back from the barrage of arrows aimed at your friend. You look around frantically and you see who’s stopping you from helping the first friend you made here. It’s Deuce. When did he get next to you? Nevermind. “Lemme go! Ace needs help!”

Deuce shakes his head with a remorseful expression. “I can’t let you get hurt!”

Since you can’t get to Ace, “Crowley! DO something!” You yell at the Headmaster who’s done jack diddly since Riddle’s tantrum progressed into hemorrhage. All he’s done here is politely ask Riddle to stop, and Ace might actually die if Riddle keeps at this.

“Cease and desist at once!” Crowley doesn’t do anything, but yells at him to stop, and Riddle’s already too angry to listen.

But it’s too late for any one to push Ace out of the way,

“ACE!” You can’t even shut your eyes as the roses and brambles come down. You take back every thing you’ve ever said about Ace, and this world if it means you don’t witness him being killed….

…..By playing cards?

Instead of roses and their thorns tearing Ace to shreds….playing cards fall from the sky.

“Huh? I’m still alive?” Ace is as stunned as you and everyone else here.

Deuce is probably as stunned as you, because his arms go limp, and you practically tackle Ace, “Are you okay!?” Your arms and legs are jelly from adrenaline, but you manage to stumble over and check him over with trembling hands.

“Y-Yeah,”He answers and you sigh in clear relief. What’s with all these playing cards?”

“All the rose trees turned into cards?” Deuce is right, All the roses and their brambles are gone. Instead it’s all playing cards. And nothing more. How did that even happen?!

Wait. Deja vu again, this keeps happening. Cards falling against an innocent. But there’s no time for that.

Because Riddle’s face is murderous, and his grip on his magical staff is so tight it could have snapped in half. He raises it again, prepared to recast as “Why didn’t you-”

Deuce dives in between you and Ace, to act as human shield but Trey stops him, shielding you all from Riddle’s view. “Riddle, stop this right now!” Oh, so NOW Trey decides enough is enough, murder was the last straw. Wonderful.

“Wait, is that Trey’s ‘Paint the Roses’?! But…how?!” You can hear a confused Cater, and thank goodness, because Trey saved Ace’s life.

“All the magic sealin’ collars are gone!” Grim’s right, You didn’t even notice in the mayhem. Ace and Deuce, and probably all the Heartslabyul residents, all have their magic-sealing collars removed.

“What did I tell you? My magic can overwrite characteristics for a short time. So I used it to make ‘Riddle’s magic’ into ‘my magic’.” Trey’s explanation lets you breathe a sigh of genuine relief. At least now, Riddle is defenseless.

“You can do that? That’s some kinda loophole!” And a lucky loophole to test on someone about to die.

Meanwhile in Crazy town, Riddle’s discovered his magic’s no longer his own. “N-no…Off with their heads! I SAID, off with their heads!” Every attempt Riddle makes to cut off everyone’s magic just causes more and more playing cards to fly out. But depending on how short the time Trey’s magic can work, that might not be for long. Especially with how many times Riddle tries recasting.

Trey finally puts his foot down. “Riddle, stop. Can’t you see how you look right now?”

You can’t believe that this is what it took to finally open the eyes of the residents. Ace nearly being murdered because Riddle’s ego got bruised. At least now, their eyes have been opened to the true extent of Riddle’s cruelty.

Which they decide to vocalize in the presence of the tyrant with the bruised ego. They’re not very smart. are they?

“He…he was really gonna do it!” “He is completely out of control.” “He’s like some kinda monster!”

Thankfully, and unfortunately, Riddle isn’t focused on that. Instead, he’s more concerned with the fact that his magic isn’t his anymore. And Trey is the reason. “What? Was my magic overwritten by yours? Does that mean your signature spell is stronger than mine?!” He demands, turning on the only one who ever really defended him in his madness.

“Of course it doesn’t. Riddle, take a deep breath and listen to us.” Trey tries to reason, but it’s too late for Riddle to be reasonable, with him already lost in the throes of his anger.

You start to feel a chill up your spine, like back in the mines with that monster. But why are you-

Still completely unreasonable, Riddle’s still deaf to Trey's words, “Are YOU going to tell me that I’m wrong too? After all I’ve done to protect the rule of law?! Do you know how much I’ve suffered for this?! I…I refuse to believe this!” That chill gets worse, and the ominous and malicious feeling you’re getting from Riddle gets worse. Something much darker. A line of dark blood drips from Riddle’s nose. Wait, that’s not blood. Blood isn’t….black.

You might be angry about earlier, but unlike Riddle, you haven’t lost your wits. You can tell when things are nose-diving into a downward spiral at terminal velocity. Because the longer Riddle spits his mad ravings, the more of that black stuff comes out.

You normally wouldn’t do this, mostly because you want to punch the bastard. But that inky stuff has to be a bad omen. “Riddle, you need to calm down.” You try to soothe the raging beast, even though you’re sure that this is a bad idea. “You don’t want to be a rulebreaker, right? So just calm down and we’ll talk this out.”

“Wha-OW!” Ace looks at you as if you’d gone insane too, but you elbowed him harshly in the gut.

Riddle’s angry glare falls on you. And you could see the veins starting to twitch under his skin. If he gets any more angry, then he might have a stroke. “ I! AM NOT! A RULE BREAKER!” He yells, his own rage leaving him breathless. “AND YOU! OF ALL PEOPLE! HAVE NO RIGHT TO SAY THAT!”

“I’m just trying to calm you down, you don’t really want to break the rules by hurting anyone, do you?” You hope he doesn’t actually want to hurt anyone. Plus, you’re really not ready to witness someone’s death.

Riddle’s face is so red, it looks like it might explode. And his glare could kill you and cook the remains with how fiery it is.

He snaps, his voice laden with venom.

“YOU! DARLINGS LIKE YOU! ARE WHY WE NEED THE RULES! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO SAY THAT TO ME!”

…..What.

Did he just-

No way, he just did. He did.

Shit. Shit...SHIT.

FUCK YOU, RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS!

You did NOT go through all that shit for him to reveal it to everyone here in a fit of rage. No fuck him, fuck this, whatever shit he has going on can wait because you need this bastard’s neck to be the other way round.

You feel fire burn under your skin. You’re gonna-

“Wait, wha-” You hear , and you don’t even have the ability to freeze up in terror. Because you gotta disperse the potential nightmare of Ace and Deuce finding out. Even if they don’t believe him, the doubt will remain. So you’re basically fried.

“It’s nothing!” You frantically yell to cut off whatever Ace or Deuce were going to say as fast as you can as you feel your heart speed up in total panic. You’ll be lucky if they think this is a psychotic rambling of a raging tyrant. This just keeps getting worse and worse for you.

If Riddle doesn’t get killed in this madness, then he owes you an apology and you owe him a big, fat fist to the face.

Meanwhile as you prepare for your own mental breakdown, Crowley maintains his complete and utter uselessness, even though he probably has the power to stop this. “Cease immediately, Mr. Rosehearts! Any further attempt to use magic will leave your magestone completely tainted with blot!”

What is blot?!

And why is Riddle-

“But….I’m right! I’M the one who’s right! There is NO! POSSIBLE! ALTERNATIVE!” Thick, black inky substance comes out of his eyes and ears.

��Riddle, stop!” Trey’s words can’t pull Riddle out of his madness and likely never will.

Because all that black ink dripping out of nearly every pore, staining his skin and clothes, pools around him for only a few seconds. Before it engulfs him, swallowing him whole.

And like a caterpillar metamorphosing into a horrific butterfly…..

…..he comes out a monster.

Like a horrible chrysalis bursting open, Riddle comes out changed.

His skin is so pallid, the color could have been mistaken for bone. A red flame is positioned over his right eye, glowing an unnatural color. The ink that bleed out of his skin sticks to his arm and face like tar. And most identifiably, he’s dressed like the Queen of Hearts. Sort of, if she was beheaded and her body was thrown in her beloved rose garden to be torn apart by the hedgehogs. (A fitting fate in your eyes)

The tyrant has changed to match his predecessor, both over-controlling monsters.

But that’s not the most terrifying part of it.

There’s also the giant hulking beast tethered to Riddle’s back. And that’s the most defining feature. Because that thing matches your dreams of the Queen of Hearts. The monster is dressed in a dress nearly identical to the one from your second dream. She’s even carrying a rose bush, torn from another world’s ground.

This is not good. And you’re suddenly very afraid of what will happen next.

The possessed? Riddle cackles, “You are fools to defy me! You are not welcome in my world. In my world, I am the law. I am order made manifest!” His voice is warped and distorted as if someone otherworldly is speaking through him.

“The only response I will accept from you is ‘Yes, Dorm Leader Riddle.’ All who defy me will lose their heads! Ah ha ha ha HA!”

“Dear me, what have I done? I’ve allowed a student to overblot in my presence!” What the fuck is overblot!?

“Crowley? What the HELL is overblot!?” You demand an explanation to this madness, because Riddle is both a monster, and has a massive monster connected to his spine. Seriously, what the shit is this!?!

“Overblot is a dangerous condition that mages must avoid at all costs. At the moment, he is overcome by negative energy and has lost control of his magic and emotions.”

“Okay but what does that mean?!”

“Please explain!”

“To put it in layman’s terms, he’s in evil berserker mode!”

“If he keeps releasing magical energy, we could be looking at a loss of life here- his included.”

“WHAT!” You feel your eye twitch, “CROWLEY! WHY DIDN’T YA JUST TELL ME ALL THIS SHIT WHEN I GOT HERE!!” It can’t be that hard, can it? How hard is it to give the unfortunate transfer student from another world or dimension a simple crash-course of ‘hey, here’s some things you should know about our world!’, for crap’s sake.

“Ms. ____-”

“Nevermind, Crowley! We’ll deal with the evil giant monster thing now, I’ll freak out later!” And freak out you will. Riddle outed you, overblotted and could kill someone or multiple someones if this shit goes south. Forget punching him, you’re going to beat him so bad that smug arrogant face of his will be unrecognizable when you're done with him.You are fucking tired of this shit already, and when you think it’s bad it just gets worse.

“Yes! The well-being of my students is my top priority. Therefore, I must evacuate them immediately.”

“Y-You’re not staying?”. You say weakly. Was the bar for headmaster requirements in hell? Yes, there is a giant monster/dorm leader attacking the running and hiding Heartslabyul residents but this is a MAGIC school for shit’s sake. “No, but as for Mr.Rosehearts, we must restore his consciousness before his magical energy runs dry.” Damnit Crowley! “For as bad as losing him would be, there are scenarios that are far worse…” WHAT’S WORSE?!?!

“Listen well: I need all of you to seek help from the other housewardens and members of faculty.” But how the hell are going to all evacuate and summon the other housewardens if Riddle is-

While the exposition dump was happening, the beast behind Riddle follows his body movements, and still fueled by all the anger that caused this whole mess to start in the first place, raises the rose bush like a club, prepared to strike down one of the unfortunate Heartslabyul students.

Ace and Deuce finally allowed to use their magic, do what they’ve wanted to do since yesterday. Strike the pretentious dorm leader down.

“HIIYAH! TAKE THAT!” A strong magical gust knocks the beast’s weapon away from its original target. And annoys the furious Riddle.

“Huh!? Trey, Cater and Crowley look and sound bewildered at the attack, but you feel a rush of pride.

“I summon thee, cauldron!” Deuce takes advantage of Riddle’s change in focus to strike. With his infamous cauldron spell. Riddle manages to dodge it, but at least he’s not attacking the students any more!

“MYAH!” Grim leaps out of your arms to join the attacks, sending a wave of blue fire along with Ace and Deuce’s own attacks.

Now even more pissed ( a surprise to be honest) Riddle fumes at their lack of submission. “What do you fools think you’re doing?”

“Um, hello?! 911? We’ve got an idiot emergency!” Cater’s internet talk doesn’t fade in times of high stress.

Grim, acting unlike his usual selfish self, actually points out the most frightening part of this, “You DID hear that part about how reeeal bad things are happenin’ with him, right?!”

“That’s why we need to stop him now! I don’t want that on my conscience!” Yah, Riddle straight up sucks but risking the deaths of others to save yourself from certain death is cowardly, and unlike the rampager, you’re not a hypocrite.

“And I’m not givin’ up till I hear him say, ‘I was wrong and I’m sorry.’”

You’re convinced, “Yeah, he owes me an apology for the shit he put me through!!”

“All right, let’s do this. I can overwrite his magic for a little longer. In the meantime, do what you can! Headmage, please evacuate the other students!”

“Wait! This is dangerous!”

“Are you S-R-S, Trey? You can’t beat Riddle!”

“So what, you’re not even gonna fight unless you KNOW you can win?”

“Yeah, he’s right. That’s weak.”

“This is the only way we can think of to snap him out of this!”

“Yeah…I don’t want to lose him. There’re too many things I’ve left unsaid.”

“We just have to do this, whatever it takes!” You might not be able to do magic, but you’ll help….somehow.

“Ugh, I do NOT like or subscribe to this, but fine!”

Ngh…I’ll be back as soon as I’ve gotten the students to safety. Stand firm until then!”

“Such defiance, from every last one of you! I shall take all of your heads!”

“Riddle’s body can’t take much more of this. We need to stop him before it’s too late!”

Things are going…..well enough.

Because how in every layer of hell can you describe this? At all? It’s not everyday that you watch a magician go into berserker mode and try to kill his ‘underlings’ or really equals he’s un/knowingly been abusing for who knows how long?

Here’s the good news.

Trey’s magic makes the fight easier for them. Replacing Riddle’s UM makes the battle actually possible.

Cater’s Spilt Card, makes the perfect distraction ones, that he can use as human shields as Riddle strikes.

Even Ace, Deuce and Grim’s inexperience manages to turn the tide. Wind, cauldrons and fire join a barrage of more sophisticated and more complicated spells of the third-years is the perfect combination of brute strength and complicated strategy.

But here’s the bad news.

Riddle’s fast. Very fast.

For every one spell the others cast, Riddle can cast two. and moves twice as fast to replace every one Trey replaces. Which should be impossible with all of his magical energy and life force being drained away but it seems whether he’s a horrific monster or a tyrannical dictator, he’s still a magical prodigy.

What your friends need is a distraction. And they need one fast. And while you might not have magic, you’re not completely powerless here.

Why?

Because Riddle’s earlier pique was kind enough to dislodge plenty of stones that once were the floor of the battle ground. Small and light enough for you to carry. Large and heavy enough to leave a nasty bruise or a nice headache.

All you hope is that you have good aim. Because this better land right in the face.

Even with the hail of magic sending wind, ice, fire, cauldrons and other magical bursts in Riddle’s direction, you’re safely hidden in the background and the beast attached to him is otherwise preoccupied with the aforementioned magic, so it’s easy to sneak away.

You wrap your hand around one of the loose stones of the destroyed battlegrounds, and sneak behind the bushes till you’re a good distance away from the others with a broad distance away from him and that monster. “Hey Rosehearts!” You yell.

He turns to you with a death glare that could actually cut off your head. But as soon as his gaze has fallen on you, you throw the stone as hard as you can.

It hits him square in the forehead.

Riddle doesn’t even have the time to cry out in pain, as he and the phantom monster stumble back, dazed.

“HA! Take that you controlling bastard!” Sure, you’re saving his life in the process, but considering he just outed you, kicking his ass through this is actually one hell of a relief.

Everyone takes advantage of the distraction you made to send another barrage of magic against Riddle. Still dazed from your strike to his head, probably combined with the damage the overblot was taking on his body, he’s much slower.

So now, every strike lands without fail, and Riddle barely has time to retaliate now. And that changes the tide of the battle.

With every new strike, the monster’s body starts to distort and parts of its body start to writhe and twist. The darkness glowing underneath starts to distort and warp. The roots holding it to Riddle's body start to sever. The monster’s distorted roars start to soften, turning weaker.

“Is it over?” You ask. You feel safe enough to go closer, now that the monster’s body starts to sway and collapse. Riddle looks like he’s about to pass out. “Is he going to die?”

“He better not. He still needs to apologize to me!” Ace

You sigh in relief for half a second. And the blot around Riddle swarms him.

You don’t know what switched on within you. You hate this guy. You want to see him suffer a little, or more specifically a lot.

“Henchman!”

So you don’t know why you ran when you did, or why you grabbed Riddle’s wrist like a vice right before his body disappeared into the mess of dark ink. You grabbed on as tight as you can, just as the monster finally burst.

Thick ink, scalding hot like Riddle’s burning rage, hits your skin and burns your face. You scream in reflex, and your mouth burns from the hot, bitter ink entering it. You choke on the blot. It burns. It coats you, covers you, drowns you and your vision swims. But your grip doesn’t let up.

“_____!!!” You hear many voices screaming your name. But you can’t see them. The burning black ink falls like rain, obscuring your friends from view.

All you can feel is that overwhelmingly painful and smothering burn of the ink…but the last thing your senses pick up on before you pass out isn’t the burn on your skin, the bitterness in your mouth, or the voices of your friends.

It’s a voice.

“I…was wrong?! But that’s…impossible…”

A sad, anguished voice. The sad, anguished voice of Riddle Rosehearts.

“Isn’t it….Mother?”

#yandere #yandere twisted wonderland #yandereverse au #yandere twst x reader

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centrally-unplanned · 2 days ago

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Let's see if I have one more election take in me:

I am deeply sympathetic to Sam Kriss's rage against the Democratic corpo-political shibboleth, and not just because we are both deeply enmeshed in the grand tradition of dissident Oxbridge-style cantankerous internet rants. He is right that Kamala was a weak candidate, for one. But more importantly, I still feel what he feels deep down. I remember the starry idealism of my halcyon youth, of believing that conviction, that vision, that the zeal only a platform birthed from authentic principles, tempered by struggle and sweat, would carry the day over crass, paint-by-polling-numbers incrementalism. When he describes Harris thusly:

"She’s a machine politician. She wants power, but not for any particular reason. It’s just that life is a game, and the point is to reach the highest level."

I see my own reaction to her when she first stepped into the 2020 limelight, and low-key hating her for it. I feel his heart, for it is my heart.

But it is not my brain. Because I am not a teenager anymore, and his critique is fucking bullshit.

He says all this stuff like:

The reason Kamala Harris lost is the same as the reason she was the candidate to begin with: the Democratic Party is allergic to democracy.

And how the electorate is seen as but ants from inside the towers of the Machine, like the Dems just invented "not running a primary" this time as a lark. As opposed to neither party in America ever having primaries against incumbent presidents! Because they are normally popular, and it would be a waste of everyone's time to do that! Could you imagine, launching a real primary against Obama in 2012? And possibly sabotaging his brand a bit for absolutely nothing? It is a reasonable policy, particularly when incumbents used to have an advantage for being so. Now they clearly don't, Biden was unpopular and too old, and the Dems took too long to realize it. A costly mistake, but it is a purely strategic error. Big orgs have inertia, and the Dems fucked up. It has nothing to do with an "allergy to democracy".

And Kriss can go off summarizing how the Harris campaign was offering voters nothing:

But for some unaccountable reason, among the general public, ‘Kamala: You Already Like Her!’ was not the brilliant pitch it seemed to be. [...] Another option would be to actually offer something to the voters.

Which sounds neat, but he made it up! I remember Kamala's actual campaign speeches, ads, and platforms, which she repeated so monotonically in her tightly-scripted campaign appearances: protect abortion rights, expand the welfare state, provide better child care support, lower the cost of housing. And most importantly, she ran on Biden's record of a strong economy and promised to deliver more of it. What does even mean for this to not be a real platform? Beyond not having some synthesized, totalizing "Critique" of modernity that packages it all into a beautiful, systematizing little box.

Because I promise you, voters synthesize jack shit. None of this is why Harris lost - voters have made that pretty clear:

You can find other data ofc, this or that point varies, but the story is not opaque. They didn't like Biden! They didn't like his inflation. They didn't like immigration, or they didn't like his liberalism, and they thought Kamala was too similar. She had too much policy baggage. And she wasn't charismatic enough to dig herself out of that hole - no disagreement from me on that front.

Though even then, by that we mean she lost an election by ~3-4% margins after getting subbed in at the 4th quarter while down by ~8% in the polls. That ain't bad!

None of the voters who matter share Kriss's sensibilities, and he cannot hide his disappointment in that. So he pretends that Donald Trump, the guy who promised 20% tariffs on everything to fight inflation, is giving them a real vision:

That’s what Trump did: he offered an enemy to blame and the prospect of doing violence to them

I don't know man, I think swing voters just don't like the last four years and think 2019 was better. I don't think the promises of orgastic violence against democrats are why Trump won! Actually a bit of an unforced error on his part.

But since Kriss presumes to value democracy, that thesis can't hold - so the lack of reality delivering on what his vision for democracy should be is displaced onto Harris's mistakes. The voters can never fail you. You can only fail to elevate them with the right candidate. Which, tactically? Sure, why not. But you can leave the moralism at the classroom door.

This ties into our dreaded media discourse debate, so it is time to bring in another explainer, by Michael Tomasky:

The line-by-line isn't interesting here; instead I want to focus on this quote:

Weren’t they bothered that Trump is a convicted felon? An adjudicated rapist? Didn’t his invocation of violence against Liz Cheney, or 50 other examples of his disgusting imprecations, obviously disqualify him? And couldn’t they see that Harris, whatever her shortcomings, was a fundamentally smart, honest, well-meaning person who would show basic respect for the Constitution and wouldn’t do anything weird as president? The answer is obviously no—not enough people were able to see any of those things. At which point people throw up their hands and say, “I give up.”

To which the immediate reply is: my dude, what are you talking about??

A 56 percent majority of Americans say Trump is probably guilty of a criminal conspiracy to overturn the 2020 election results through false claims of voter fraud, including 40 percent who believe he is “definitely guilty.” Republicans are less united than Democrats. Nearly 9 in 10 Democrats believe Trump is guilty, while nearly 7 in 10 Republicans think he is innocent. Among independents, nearly twice as many think Trump is guilty as think he is innocent.

You know how when you ~13 years old, and you have that friend who is just old enough to start taking Dungeons & Dragons books filled with splash art of succubi into the bathroom with him, but not yet old enough to get that "talking to girls" is an acquired skill? And they are blatantly, openly salivating over the first chick in the 7th grade class who discovered what power the combination of a camisole and a push-up bra holds over the male gaze? And she just completely ignores his faltering attempts at ~casual conversation~, so his brain script-cycles through its backlog of tween sitcom plots until it lands on, "Hey, what if I confess to her? Then she will know about my feelings!"

And you have to pull him aside and gently explain that, bro. She knows. That is not your problem.

Kriss is too intelligent a thinker to not understand this, but our dear Tomasky - and so many like him - has stuck his 14-year-old head in the sand over this. Swing voters know Trump is a scumbag! They know he lost the election, they know he raped a few women in his day, they know he is a serial fraudster. Even a bunch of those Republicans who, in polls, go "oh it's all a Dem conspiracy"? They know too; they just have the decency to lie about it. How could they not? Every media outlet in the country has been repeating it for a fucking decade! I might think voters are morons but even I won't stoop this low; they have eyes and ears, they aren't illiterate.

They just don't care.

Not enough at least, not enough to make it the only thing they consider. And here is the rub, here is the grand mistake Kriss & Tomasky are making - they are at least somewhat right to not care. The height of the Democratic privilege is that they get to play this card because they don't have to deal with it being turned against them. Kamala is a political chameleon but she is a decent person. She would never take a bribe from a foreign government, she would never assault a coworker, she would never, ever, deny a free and fair election.

Which means you don't have to choose between voting for a rapist and voting for someone who is going to shove a bullshit interpretation of the 14th amendment down your throat via a stacked court to ban abortion nationwide, forever. Pro-life people think abortion is genocide against babies! Why are you surprised they aren't voting for the pro-baby-genocide person because she is nice? How sure are you that you would do the same when that is reversed? I guess those boycott-Harris-because-of-Gaza people got some cred, but I think we all agreed they were dumb, right?

This is the rub of why outsiders always have so much difficulty understanding how people like Berlusconi, Trump, Le Pen, etc, get so much vote share - they have no stake in the political struggle beyond the vague idea of democratic norms. It is easy to say "Italy, choose a non-crook!" when you don't have to live with the policy programme of the other guy. From the inside the price of those principles is far, far harder. It isn't shocking that most choose not to pay it.

This isn't to give voters like a moral pass - Trump's conduct is truly disqualifying, I would vote Republican if the shoe was on the other foot in this case. My point instead is that they generally won't as a simple fact of life, and blaming them is futile. If you have wound up in a situation where the political system has taken its pool of hundreds of millions of potential candidates and narrowed it down to two for the voters, and one of them has "launched a coup but will say go to hell to the inflation guy" as a bundled package, someone fucked up and it isn't the voters.

You need political elites to do their part in the system - Republicans never should have let Trump be their candidate in 2016. Open primaries with no organizational thumbs on the scale are a mistake, actually, allowing arbitrary minorities to generate subpar candidates. The decision to let Biden run again was, fundamentally, born from the same impulse - the Democratic Party had no leadership capable of telling him no, because they outsourced that job to "primaries". The Dems are not "allergic" to democracy; democracy is allergic to too much of itself.

But the cat is out of the bag now! These changes happened for a reason after all. Which I won't dig into here - I will keep my point as focused as something as sprawling as this can be. Voters will not save you, and you should not be disappointed when they don't. It was never their job.

#That's right it was a 10% less democracy bitchfest all long!! Get tricked fools

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halfwayhearted · 16 hours ago

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can you make a lamine boyfriend headcanons <333

Boyfriend Lamine Yamal Headcanons! ^_^

“don’t forget to kiss me.” / “or else you’ll have to miss me.”

Boyfriend Lamine Yamal who… comes up with silly ideas like having a ‘push-up contest’, knowing all he actually wants are compliments from you.

“Lamine, I already gave up. You can stop.”

“Okay… okay.” A breath. “How many did I do?”

“A lot! I’ve been impressed. Good job.”

Boyfriend Lamine Yamal who… will not take a normal picture. He always has to move, talk through it, or strike a random pose that doesn’t fit the picture’s aesthetic at all. It irks you, but it’s whatever.

Boyfriend Lamine Yamal who… loves going on vacation with you. He has fun regardless, though he knows he’ll have even more fun if you’re there.

Boyfriend Lamine Yamal who… tries to include you in literally everything. Practicing with Keyne? He’s calling you over so you can watch them play. However, the boy finds himself having to stop when his brother gets distracted by something.

Boyfriend Lamine Yamal who… compliments you daily. Even if you think you look bad, he’s making sure you know he doesn’t think that at all. Never will.

Boyfriend Lamine Yamal who… can’t plan anything for the life of him. When you’re talking about future dates and what he thinks of them, his only response is that he doesn’t care. As long as he’s with you, he’s a content man, as Lamine puts it.

Boyfriend Lamine Yamal who… is unable to keep his hands to himself. Or, actually, any part of him. You’ll always have your hair ruffled by him, feel the palm of his hand running over the side of your face, or even have him bumping the side of his body into yours. “Do it again and I’ll freak out.”

Boyfriend Lamine Yamal who… wants to dance almost all the time if a song he likes starts to play. It doesn’t matter if you don’t want to; you’re joining him, even when you tell him you won’t be good.

Boyfriend Lamine Yamal who… has a tendency to pull you close after any minor inconvenience. You’re annoyed at him? Yeah, well, he’s pulling you toward him. Excited? He’s already reaching for you. Upset? He’s not only holding you tightly, he’s also murmuring words of comfort that lighten your mood. A smile gracing your lips in seconds.

Boyfriend Lamine Yamal who… can be serious despite always joking around. His love for you is real.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.

DT(s) — @planetpedri + @spidybaby ! ౨ৎ

#lamine yamal #lamine yamal x reader #lamine yamal x you #lamine yamal fluff #lamine yamal comfort #lamine yamal headcanons #boyfriend lamine yamal #request #jilval #glue song - beabadoobee

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vivianblue · 1 day ago

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Doesn't the existence of bell hooks along with her compassionate and phenomenal works literally disputes the whole idea that "The Left hates men" though?

bell hooks IS part of The Left, and correct me if I'm wrong but her central thesis in "The Will to Change" and "All About Love" isn't to point out how it's failure on leftists for not coddling men enough, but to point out how the patriarchy hurts men as well. The people who should read bell hooks are not mean leftists, but precisely MEN who feels they can and should deserve better than what this system of oppression has to offer them, and open up their perspective beyond the false dichotomy of "Accept Calvinism & Eternal Punitive Justice from The Oppressed" OR "Be The Oppressor & Enjoy Your Privileges (you earn this by being more Superior than other people)".

Men being drawn to the alt-right pipeline is not due to mean women and leftists. It's because like,... it's good to be a man under the patriarchy, because it benefits men at the expense of other people. This is just basic sociological analysis backed by historical facts that we should agree on. However, in some situations even by stating: "privileges exist and a lot are unearned/built on oppressing other groups", you would already be inviting a lot of hostility, because acknowledging this issue for a lot of people is Emotionally Challenging (and I'm saying that with no attached judgement).

We can examine a similar emotional response to see why this would be challenging - White Fragility. According to Ford, Green & Gross (2022), the psychological process underpinned it goes like this:

1. Generally, people want to be viewed as a Good Person.

2. Acknowledging systemic issues and how integral one's role as the "oppressor" in those issues can feel incongruent to the goal of wanting to be a Good Person (and might lead to guilt or shame).

3. This feeling can worsen when the person feels like they don't have the resources necessary to tackle a particular situation without coming off as a racist/sexist/transphobic/etc. (aka what many people would internalize as a Bad Person).

Many men could start out wanting to do good, but then find out that "doing good" requires more than just extending niceness on an individual basis. It's also about working on yourself and learning more about the world and other people's experiences and actively preventing harms, because anyone has the potential to do harm and the damage caused is in correlation to how much power you have over others. Everyone is capable of being racist/sexist/transphobic/etc. in a society where those actions are so normalized. Doesn't mean everyone is Inherently a Bad Person, but it does mean there are a LOT of choices to navigate and you will make mistakes, and people are going to be understandably cautious around you if you haven't worked on yourself enough since again - you can harm them. It is unjust to force people to love you, especially at the threat of you becoming a violent raging Nazi.

The dilemma of "Why should I help the people I've harmed when I get nothing but feeling of shame in return" are common human issues, and it's not entirely unique to cishet white men. The alt-right denies the questions entirely by saying that "No men, YOU have never done anything wrong. If anything it's those minorities and women who are harming you, and you're in the right for wanting to punish them back." Why takes responsibility when it turns out, you're the Good, Rational and Superior Guy all along?

The real answer is quite direct and Literally lies in bell hooks' writings, specifically "All About Love", and is only made difficult and obscure by the relentless effort to paint feminists and leftists as this homogeneous, hateful group who want to antagonize men. It's not about the unconditional love that women and The Left MUST have for men as a Reward for existing and being such a Good Boy. It's about the Love men should have for themselves and the world. Why must you do good by yourself, by women, by your fellow men, by your sons or daughters or neighbors or community? If you love someone, you want the best for them. The best for who and what you love would be for you do good actions and make good decisions that benefit everyone, and yourself. Love is not earned, it's something you do.

“The first act of violence that patriarchy demands of males is not violence toward women. Instead patriarchy demands of all males that they engage in acts of psychic self-mutilation, that they kill off the emotional parts of themselves. If an individual is not successful in emotionally crippling himself, he can count on patriarchal men to enact rituals of power that will assault his self-esteem.”

At the end of the day, women and leftists aren't the problem. It's the lack of resources re: point (3) and again, not due to leftists not providing them, but due to the patriarchy and people having an interest in not seeking them out or censoring them (e.g. the attack on critical race theory in uni).

I couldn't have said it better myself.

#text post #bell hooks #all about love #feminism #update to correct my capitalization of bell hooks name! my mistake

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diy-dynamite · 5 hours ago

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Television Influence

Homicipher || Mr. Crawling + GN Reader

So... I have no idea how to use Tumblr to write fics But. Consider this my trial before it goes down :3

CONTENTS: (1) mentions & descriptions of murder, (2) kissing

Disclaimer: the part about MC being an assassin is just a hc I came up with. There are spoilers under the cut, though (at least I think I put the cut, idk tho)

So hear me out. Idk if anyone did this yet, but listen: after bringing your sweetheart (Mr. Crawling, obviously) to the real world, things went back to normal. Sort of. You were never really normal to begin with.

********

You went back to your old job, hacking and killing, keeping the bills steady with commissions, yada yada. Corporate worker on weekdays, but at night and on weekends, you're a highly sought out eliminator.

This busy schedule didn't sit right for Mr. Crawling, though. Every time you came back, you noticed that he sat before the door, already waiting for you to twist the knob and push. You installed cameras to try to keep your eyes on what he did, only to find out that if his presence was caught on camera, the film would glitch and blur and static would pepper across your screen. Still, you were able to decipher what he did through the choppy feed.

He stood his ground in front of the door with that small, anticipating grin on his grey face. Your heart ached at the sight, cooing aloud right in front of your victim before you slammed your crowbar into their skull.

That's when you realised you didn't like leaving him for hours on end. You didn't want to make him wait like that.

An idea sparked in your head when you were getting ready for your morning job. Mr. Crawling was still lying on his spot next to yours on your shared bed. You couldn't tell if he was sleeping or spacing out. Did he even need sleep?

You shrugged that thought off and quietly tip-toed your way into your living room. You switched on the TV—which you never used until now—and left the volume at a moderate level before leaving for work.

Truly enough, the sweetheart confusedly crawled over to sit at the front of the screen, watching the rom-com show that just got aired.

You smiled, leaving the monitoring app as you sipped from your favourite morning tea. You checked in on him around every five hours, and he never moved from his spot, not until you were already at your front door, though. The humanoid man seemed to hit a realization and crawled to the front door once again. It's like he already knew when you usually arrived.

He just sat there with that same thin smile on his face, waiting for your return. If he had a tail, it'd be swaying slowly. Patient and hopeful, like a dog.

You pushed the door open, and his chipper laughter rang through the air.

"You home! You home!"

He pushed a chuckle out of your lips, embracing you by the hips as you locked your front door with shaky hands due to his movement.

"Home, home," you nodded, sighing, yet you still smiled. "Hungry? Want eat?"

He giggled again, his smile practically cutting from ear to ear.

You served him his red soup—it wasn't tomatoes, but it was the chunks and blood of your victim last night.

"You enjoy?" You asked, leaning on your palm as you watched him eat. "Thing," you pointed at the TV in the nearby room. "Thing fun?"

Mr. Crawling wiped the leftover soup from his lips, pitch black tongue licking over where the blood was on his hand.

"Thing fun," he agreed. "You more fun. Many more."

You laughed. Thank goodness for all the language lessons you took on his dialect because these little gems that left his cold lips would've flown last your head.

Suddenly, Mr. Crawling paused.

"Want... try something."

"Try?" You tilted your head in confusion, and he mirrored your expression as you uttered a word in English. "More eat? Eat another?"

He giggled. "No!"

Your brows knitted together, and your lips pursed as you pondered. "Try what?"

Mr. Crawling crawled around the chabudai table, already hovering over your lap. His lips formed that same loveable (and slightly uncanny) smile. "You, me..." he gestured between you two with one hand. You nodded along, hoping to understand. "Me, you," you said.

He gestured again. "Not the same. Me, you, different. I saw other—other like you," he pointed at the TV. "Saw many like you. They say love, but they not show. Why?"

"...?" You had to process that for a second. Lengthy sentences in his language were harder to decode. "Er... um," you sighed. "They not ready? Love big, but they know small."

He watched you expectantly, so you continued.

"Uh... love big. Yes. Many meaning. Few word, few say."

"You love me?"

This was a question you got daily. It didn't hurt to answer repetively, but now that you thought of it....

Your hesitation made Mr. Crawling shrink back, his smile slowly turning into pouting.

"No no," you quickly added. "Me love you. You kind. You rescue."

He perked up, his joy bouncing right back. "Me love you!" He chirped.

You sighed, but your breath of relief didn't last long. He took you by the chin, his cold and calloused hands as gentle as he always was, and he poked his lips against yours in a brief kiss.

"You cute," he giggled, and you realised your face went red. "Cute, cute."

"Where did you learn to do that?" You blurted out, confusion and fluttering shyness grasping your stomach like a ruthless vine. "I mean—" you snapped out of it, seeing his confusion. "—how... how you know... do that?"

He pointed at the TV again. "Saw many like you. Say they love they, then they do!"

He saw people kiss?

"You—"

He kissed you again. Did it even count as a kiss? It was more like tapping lips together than a kiss.

"Cute!" He chirped and kissed you again. It didn't take much for you to know that he was pleased with your reddened cheeks and wanted to see it over and over. You counted twenty times before you stopped him, which made him frown.

"I teach," you sighed, your shyness wearing off. He practically bounced at your words. "I teach you how. My language, I call 'kiss'."

He tilted his head.

You said it again. "Kiss."

"....Ck...ck..."

"Kiss." You nodded.

"Ki...iss?"

You patted his head in approval. "Kiss."

He giggled. "Kiss! Kiss! Me kiss you!"

You couldn't help but laugh. "I teach you how. Don't move."

He didn't.

When you leaned in for a kiss, he stiffened, but he didn't move away. You held his hands and brought them to your waist, and then you held the sides of his head, pressing on.

You didn't take it too far, no—he wasn't really ready for English yet, let alone French if you know what I mean.

"....Me kiss you," you said.

It was almost as if steam was blowing out of his ears. The place around his cheeks darkened into a deeper grey, and you laughed. Before you could comment, however, he pounced at the chance to kiss you again before you changed your mind.

********

Erm so this was kinda ass LMAO

It's just practice anyway 😞 didn't proofread either so I guess that'll be my bad when I wake up tomorrow to see a bajillion of mistakes

#homicipher #homicipher chapter one #homicipher x reader #mr crawling #mr. crawling #mr. crawling x reader #mr crawling x you

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ltash · 2 days ago

Text

The Bodyguard pt-2

Part 1 & 3 link in the end.

SimonGhostRileyxfemalereader

This chap contains a lot of slowburn

"You're not alone inside, are you?" Ghost asked, his voice low and steady. His eyes narrowed slightly as he took in the layout of the house, mentally calculating the risks.

"I'm here most of the time," you said, glancing at him. "But I've got a few trusted people in place."

He nodded, clearly assessing the situation. "Good. But trust is earned, not given. If Garcia gets past the outside, you'll need more than just a few guards. A team, at least."

You met his gaze, his expression unreadable. "I can handle myself, but I'll take your advice."

He gave a small nod. "You might be able to handle yourself, but you need the right backup. If you want to survive Garcia, you need to be prepared for anything."

A flicker of something, resolve, maybe passed through your eyes. "I've been preparing for this for a long time."

His eyes softened just slightly under the mask. "Good. Then we'll make sure it's enough."

"I was in my car when they were shot in front of my eyes," you whispered, your voice trembling as the memory came rushing back. "I-I had a panic attack... and I went into shock..."

The words hung heavy in the air, and for a moment, Ghost stood motionless, his mask impassive, but the surprise in his eyes softened, giving way to something deeper-something almost like understanding. He nodded slowly, his posture shifting slightly as if adjusting to the weight of your revelation. His voice, when he spoke, was lower, softer, a rare shift in tone. "A panic attack and shock," he echoed, his words slow and measured. "That's a normal response, considering what you went through."

You shook your head, your voice barely above a whisper. "I can't recall... it gives me PTSD."

The words seemed to hit him like a blow, and his eyes narrowed behind the mask. There was a brief flicker of something grim, something darker, before he spoke again. "PTSD," he repeated, his voice taking on an almost reverent tone, as if the weight of the term itself deserved respect. "That's understandable. Experiencing trauma like that... it's life-altering."

You flinched, instinctively rubbing your forehead as the memories surged forward. The tears came too quickly, but you wiped them away before they could fall, trying to regain your composure.

Ghost's eyes followed the movement, noting the subtle tremor in your hand, the way you fought against the raw emotion that threatened to break through. He noticed the brief flicker of pain in your expression, and it made something inside him tighten, something he rarely allowed to stir. The gruff, impassive persona he had carefully crafted seemed to slip, replaced by something far more human-more concerned. Without thinking, he took a small step closer, his voice softer now, tinged with a note of care. "You okay?" he asked, the question a low murmur, his eyes scanning your face with an intensity that seemed to demand more than just an answer.

You blinked rapidly, swallowing down the lump in your throat. "I am fine," you said quickly, though the words lacked conviction. "Your room is upstairs, make yourself at home, Lieutenant. I'll see you tomorrow."

With that, you turned and started to walk away, making your way towards the pool area, heading for your room downstairs. Ghost watched you, his eyes following the curve of your figure, the faintest frown pulling at the corners of his mouth beneath the mask. He wasn't used to seeing vulnerability in people like you-not billionaires, not those who lived in a world of opulence and luxury, where real danger felt like a distant, foreign concept. Most of them were pampered, untouched by the harshness of life's cruelties. But you... you were different.

He shook his head slightly, as if to rid himself of the thought, and forced his focus back on the mission. His footsteps were quiet as he made his way upstairs, each one deliberate, careful. The familiar routine of moving through a house on guard, silent as a shadow, was a comfort to him, and he allowed it to take over as he ascended the stairs, leaving the tension behind him.

Later, in the stillness of his room, Ghost sat on the edge of the king-sized bed, the room dark except for the soft, muted light filtering through the blinds. The bed was large, spacious, but it felt empty, and his mind was far from the comfort it should have offered. His fingers drummed absently against the duvet as his eyes narrowed, his thoughts consumed by your reaction. The image of you flinching, of your hand brushing away the tears that had threatened to fall, lingered in his mind, like a splinter lodged deep in his thoughts, impossible to ignore.

He wasn't used to this-not to concern, not to empathy. Emotions were weaknesses in his line of work, tools of distraction that could get you killed. But there was something about you, something about the way you wore your pain so openly, that unsettled him. He had dealt with the fallout of trauma countless times, but this... this was different.

His gaze darkened as he exhaled sharply, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him. He had a job to do. That was his priority, his focus. Yet, as much as he tried to push it away, he found himself wondering how you were faring downstairs. Was the trauma still haunting you? Was it keeping you awake, even now, as he sat alone in his room?

The thought struck him almost with humor, though it was a humorless, bitter laugh. When had he started caring about the nightmares of a billionaire?

The soft glow of early morning light spilled through the kitchen windows, illuminating your figure as you stood in your black silk nightgown and robe. The fabric clung to your body in all the right places, the delicate lace tracing the outline of your curves as you reached for the creamer on the top shelf. The slight stretch of your arm accentuated the smooth arch of your back, the silk of your gown whispering against your skin. The scene felt almost too intimate, too personal, the kitchen now an unexpected stage for the quiet tension that simmered between you.

Ghost's footsteps were silent as always, his presence like a shadow, subtle yet undeniable. He stopped just inside the doorway, his eyes dark and unreadable behind the mask, watching you with an intensity that made the air feel charged. His gaze flicked over you with a trained precision, noting the way the silk robe clung to your frame, the soft curve of your neck as you tilted your head to reach the jar. It wasn't just your figure that caught his attention; it was the quiet grace with which you moved, a delicate vulnerability in a moment so simple yet so raw.

You didn't notice his presence until his voice cut through the stillness, deep and low. "Need some help?"

You startled slightly, a soft laugh escaping your lips as you tried to make light of the situation. "Ah! Yes. Seems like the creamer decided to run upstairs." The casual words did little to mask the way your pulse quickened as he moved closer, his body towering over you in a way that made the space between you feel charged with heat. The scent of his cologne mingled with the clean, floral fragrance of your perfume, and suddenly, the kitchen seemed too small, the silence too heavy.

Ghost didn't respond immediately. His gaze lingered on you, following the curve of your waist, the delicate movement of your shoulders as you shifted to reach the jar. Every second felt stretched thin, the quiet tension building between you, until finally, he took a step forward. His presence behind you was overwhelming, his body heat radiating against your back, the soft brush of his chest against yours enough to make your breath hitch. He reached up with ease, his hand brushing against your side as he took the jar from the shelf, his fingers grazing your skin in a way that sent a shiver down your spine.

For a moment, time seemed to freeze. The proximity between you both was almost suffocating, the gentle press of his body against yours sending an electric pulse through you. You could feel the muscles of his chest shifting under his shirt as he stood so close, his breath warm against the back of your neck. The subtle brush of his fingertips as he steadied you made your heart race faster, and you struggled to steady your breath, your senses heightened in a way that made every movement feel magnified.

Ghost held the jar in his hand, his fingers long and strong, wrapping around it with ease as he pulled it down from the shelf. The way his hands moved, so assured and commanding, made it clear how capable he was. But it was his proximity to you, the way his body loomed over yours, that made everything feel more intense. Every inch of space between you felt charged, alive with something that neither of you had yet acknowledged. The heat from his body radiated against you, and your breath hitched in your throat, a subtle flutter in your chest that you couldn't ignore.

He didn't speak immediately, his gaze still fixed on you. You could feel the weight of his stare, the intensity in his eyes even as he held the jar out to you. "Here," he muttered, his voice thick and a little rougher than usual, a low growl that seemed to vibrate in the air between you. The sound sent a shiver down your spine, and you found yourself instinctively biting your lip as you reached for the creamer jar.

As your fingers brushed against his, something passed between you, a spark of electricity that made the air around you crackle. You quickly took the jar from his hand, your fingers lingering just a moment too long on his skin, before you slipped past him to the counter. But even that small, fleeting contact was enough to make your heart race. His eyes followed you, unwavering, his body still poised and tense behind you as you walked away. It was almost as if he couldn't tear his gaze from the way the silk of your gown swayed with each step, the fabric hugging your body in a way that taunted him.

The brief moment of shared tension hung in the air, thick and unspoken. Ghost didn't move immediately, his eyes lingering on your retreating form as a quiet battle waged within him. His usual stoic demeanor wavered for just a second, as if the brief moment of proximity had unsettled something deep inside him. He took a slow breath, forcing himself to turn away, his footsteps light as he moved toward the kitchen door. Yet, the image of you, the soft sway of your body, the heat of your presence, the way you had reacted so instinctively to his touch, stayed with him long after you were out of sight.

He wasn't used to this kind of distraction, wasn't used to feeling anything but the mission, but with you, everything seemed more complicated, more dangerous. And that made it all the more irresistible.

You made coffee for yourself and for Ghost, the smell of the rich brew filling the kitchen as you prepared the cups. Soon, the chef and the rest of the staff arrived, and breakfast was served. Afterward, you excused yourself to change into your office attire.

Fifteen minutes later, you returned, your entrance commanding attention. The moment Ghost saw you, his breath hitched. You had traded your more casual clothes for a striking ensemble: a black, short skirt that hugged your hips perfectly, paired with a black lace corset top that accentuated your curves in a way that made his pulse quicken. The black blazer you wore only added to the professional yet seductive aura that surrounded you.

His heart nearly stopped. Ghost was no stranger to beautiful women, but there was something about the way you wore this outfit that made his thoughts falter. His eyes traced every inch of you, the hunger he tried so hard to suppress evident in his gaze. He forced himself to maintain his composure, clearing his throat before speaking.

"Quite the transformation," he remarked, his voice rougher than usual, a slight edge of something darker beneath the surface.

You didn't meet his eyes immediately. Instead, you simply nodded, a small, confident smile playing at your lips. "Let's go," you said, turning towards the elevator.

As you reached the underground parking garage, Ghost followed in silence. The click of your heels echoed against the smooth floors as you walked toward the Bugatti Veyron, the keys jingling in your hand. You climbed into the driver's seat effortlessly, looking every bit the part of someone who was both capable and dangerous.

Ghost lingered for a moment, watching you with a mix of admiration and something deeper. "You're drivin' yourself?" he asked, his voice betraying a touch of surprise. "And I thought you were all about chauffeurs and limos."

You glanced over your shoulder at him, a teasing glint in your eyes. "I like to drive myself sometimes."

Throughout the drive, Ghost stayed quiet, his eyes scanning the surroundings, but his mind was elsewhere, fixed on you. It was hard for him to concentrate with you so close, your scent lingering in the air, the quiet hum of the engine, and the soft movements of your body as you maneuvered the car. The rhythmic motion of your driving was almost hypnotic, and he could feel the tension in his body building, coiling tighter with each passing moment.

The office day was long but predictable. You moved with confidence, handling business matters with ease. Ghost watched you from the periphery, his eyes always alert, but they couldn't help but follow you as you moved, graceful, composed, every step calculated. There was something captivating about the way you carried yourself, even in the midst of all the work. The way the office attire clung to your figure... It was impossible to ignore.

By the time the workday ended and you returned home, the atmosphere had shifted. The silence between you and Ghost was thick with unspoken tension. You took a quick shower and had dinner, the food almost an afterthought. Ghost, meanwhile, did his security checks, ensuring everything was in order.

Later, he found you in the living room, watching a movie. He leaned casually against the kitchen counter, his eyes fixed on you. "Watching a movie, eh?" he asked, his voice rough, tinged with something more than just curiosity. "Anything interesting?"

You didn't look up at him, your focus still on the screen. "Yeah. It's a romantic movie," you replied.

As the movie progressed, the scene shifted, and Ghost found himself unable to look away. The screen displayed an intense, passionate kiss, hands grasping, bodies pressing together. The intimacy of the scene stirred something deep inside him, something primal and raw. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to ignore the surge of heat spreading through him.

Just as the scene became more intense, the remote slipped from your hand as you tried to turn it off. Your frustration was palpable, the soft sounds of the couple's passion filling the room. The girl's moans echoed, and your face turned bright red, your embarrassment unmistakable.

Ghost's eyes locked on the screen for a moment longer, his jaw tightening as the sounds filled the room. The scene played out with such intimacy, the kind of heat that had no place in his world, but it had a way of tugging at something buried deep within him. He turned to you, his gaze darkened with something fierce.

"Fucking hell," you muttered, trying again with the remote, but it wasn't working. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, and Ghost couldn't stop himself from taking a step toward you.

"Turn it off," he ordered, his voice low, almost a growl.

"I'm trying," you stammered, the panic in your eyes clear as the scene escalated further.

Ghost stepped closer, his presence overwhelming, as if the air around you had thickened. He towered over you, his hands moving with purpose as he grabbed the remote from your trembling fingers. The brief contact between your skin sent a jolt of electricity straight to his core, igniting something he had been trying to suppress.

With one swift motion, he turned the TV off, and the room fell into an almost suffocating silence. His eyes locked on yours, watching you carefully, studying the way your body reacted to the close proximity.

"You shouldn't be watchin' stuff like that," he muttered, his voice hoarse with unspoken desires. He closed the distance between you even more, his body a solid presence, his warmth enveloping you.

You took a small step back, your chest rising and falling with quick breaths, but Ghost didn't give you any space to retreat. He moved in closer, his large frame nearly consuming yours. The air between you was thick with tension, and his voice was barely above a whisper when he asked, "Why are you breathin' like that? Are you scared?"

Without responding, you turned quickly and fled to your room, your heart racing in your chest.

Ghost stood in place for a moment, watching you leave, a mixture of frustration and something darker brewing inside him. He didn't move, his gaze fixed on your retreating form, unsure whether to follow or leave it be. The urge to chase after you gnawed at him, but he remained still, his body taut with restraint.

The door to your room clicked shut, and Ghost stood there, his mind in turmoil. He couldn't understand why he was feeling this way, this ache, this hunger that was building with every passing second.

The next morning It was your day off, a rare moment of respite, and you had decided to spend it quietly in your room. You sat in front of your dressing table, your movements slow and deliberate as you applied lipstick, the brush strokes careful as you enhanced your already striking features. You were dressed in little more than black lace lingerie, a delicate, lacy bra and matching panties, your skin almost glowing against the dark fabric. Absentmindedly, you had left your door unlocked, not expecting anyone to intrude.

Then, without warning, the standing mirror behind you tilted dangerously. It seemed to fall in slow motion before shattering loudly, the glass spraying across the floor in a cacophony of sound. The sudden crash made you jump, a sharp scream escaping your lips as you recoiled, heart hammering in your chest.

At the sound of your scream, Ghost's training kicked in without hesitation. His body went rigid, instincts sharp and primed for action. In an instant, he was on his feet, his senses alert. Without pausing to think, he rushed towards your room, his boots pounding against the floor, the door crashing open with a force that matched the urgency of his steps.

For a brief moment, he froze. The sight of you, standing there in nothing but skimpy lingerie, sent a jolt of heat straight through him. The shattered mirror reflected the image of your bare skin, the delicate lace of your undergarments clinging to your curves. His eyes darkened, and for a moment, he couldn't tear them away. His breath hitched, but he quickly forced himself to look away, a wave of frustration sweeping over him.

"Oh my god!" you squeaked, instinctively wrapping your arms around your body in a vain attempt to shield yourself.

"Cover yourself!" Ghost growled, his voice rough with something deep and primal as he turned away, his jaw clenched tightly. His hands fisted at his sides, the mix of anger and arousal burning through him like wildfire. "Fucking hell," he muttered under his breath, trying desperately to regain control over his emotions.

You grabbed the silk bedsheet from the bed and wrapped it around yourself, your body trembling as the cool fabric touched your heated skin. Ghost could feel his heart pounding, his pulse racing as he stood with his back to you, his body rigid with restraint. His thoughts were a tangled mess, torn between the urge to protect you, to be angry, and the darker, more dangerous part of him that reacted to the vulnerability you were now showing.

"I--I'm covered. You can look," you said, your voice small, your grip tightening around the sheet.

Ghost slowly exhaled, forcing himself to calm down. His mind screamed at him to walk away, to maintain his usual impassive demeanor, but he couldn't shake the image of you, of how you looked standing there, so exposed and vulnerable. It ignited something in him that had been buried for so long.

He turned around, his gaze cold and sharp, but he refused to let his eyes drop lower than your face. He could feel the tension building between them, thick and heavy, making it harder to concentrate.

"What the hell happened?" he demanded, his voice low and gravelly, the edge of frustration clear in his tone. "Why were you just standing there in nothing but...?" He trailed off, unwilling to say it outright, but his words hung in the air, a silent challenge.

"I don't know, I'm sorry. I was just going to dress up," you muttered, your face flushed with embarrassment as you grabbed your dress from the bed.

The unspoken tension simmered between the two of you, thickening the atmosphere in the room. Ghost's thoughts raced, his gaze flickering briefly to the bed sheet still clutched tightly around you, and an unfamiliar possessiveness washed over him. He didn't want anyone, anyone, to see you like this, so vulnerable, so exposed.

His next words came out in a low growl. "Put the dress on." His voice was firm, commanding, yet there was an undercurrent of something else, something more dangerous.

"I'm going to put it on," you replied, a sense of urgency in your voice as you darted towards the attached bathroom.

Ghost stood frozen for a moment, his mind still reeling from what had just happened. He was acutely aware of the ache in his chest, the simmering tension that refused to dissipate. Everything had changed between you, and he couldn't deny the heat building in him every time he thought about it.

Shaking his head, he tried to clear his mind, focusing on the task at hand. He stepped out of the room, his thoughts a maelstrom of conflicting emotions. He found one of the servants and calmly informed them about the broken mirror, his voice betraying nothing of the internal chaos he was experiencing. His body still thrummed with tension, but he had to maintain control, to keep the façade intact.

Even though his words were neutral, his mind couldn't help but replay the image of you in that lingerie, the way your body had looked in the soft lighting of the room, the way it had affected him. He could still feel the heat rising inside him, an ache he didn't know how to satisfy.

As he walked away, he felt the weight of the encounter hanging in the air, like an invisible thread connecting you both. Something had shifted between you, and he knew, deep down, that it would never be the same again.

Part 1

Part 3

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planetpedri · 22 hours ago

Note

hey girly please can you do one with marc bernal where he’s super clingy after his injury and he just wants to be babied, tysm xxx

Generous heart — Marc bernal.

Pairing: Marc Bernal x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend had never been a clingy person, but it seems this injury had changed him more than you thought.

Word count: 560+

Disclaimer/s: Acl injury, pain, light angst to comfort. mostly fluff though !

A/N: When do the injuries end UGHHH. Come back soon diva

Marc’s parents had been allowing you to stay over for the night more and more. Ever since his injury, they had claimed he’d been more down than usual, but whenever you came around, suddenly his spirits were lifted and he felt.. well, the closest thing to normal someone could with the injuries he’d sustained.

While sitting up in his bed, Marc uncomfortably moved around. At some points he’d wince in pain, trying to disguise his discomfort by looking to the side. Each time you’d remind him that he needed to verbally tell you if something was hurting, rather than pretending it wasn’t there.

So, you’d convinced him to just lay down, which he did, but not without pulling you down with him. A soft laugh escaped your lips as he tugged on your arm.

“Lay down with me.” He huffs, looking up at you with a forced scowl.

“Chillax, i’m going to!” You grin, slowly inching yourself from a sitting position down to a lying one. The second you were flat against his bed, he pulled you closer, using his right arm to slip under your head.

Once he was satisfied with the position, your head resting on his shoulder, he bent his head down to place a kiss to the top of your head.

You smile at the gesture before unlocking your phone and opening TikTok, scrolling mindlessly through the videos as Marc watched with you.

Thats how most of your days and nights spent together went. He would have you cuddle with him and watch whatever you had on your phone. In fact, he’d prefer you nearly laying on top of him on your phone, than you giving him space and sitting beside him.

Marc was never this.. cuddly before. You weren’t complaining, though. Just to make that clear. You loved it, in fact. But, it was new, and each time you couldn’t help but smile the whole time. You liked this part of him, the one you hadn’t seen much until recently.

“Wait!” He suddenly says, making your eyes widen and shoot up to him, “I wasn’t done with that video, scroll up.”

Letting out a long breath, you huff. “Holy shit, you scared me!”

A guilty look passes across his face, “sorry..” He says sheepishly, “just scroll up, please?”

Nodding, you scroll back to the last video. “Let me know when I can continue.” You chuckle.

“Will do.” He hums, “hey, wait.”

Groaning, you pause the video. “Yes?” You meet his gaze once again and you’re met with a smug smirk. Great.

“A kiss would do.”

Oh this little…

Rolling your eyes, you tilt your head back to grant him access to your lips. He takes the chance, using his free hand to place his thumb and index finger on your chin, tilting your head up a little further. You don’t think you’d ever get used to his kisses, they were always so gentle and meaningful and perfect…

Sighing into the kiss, your eyes flutter shut. “Anything else you need? You big baby.” You murmur against his lips, feeling the smile that forms on his.

“I am a little hungry..” He pulls away, cocking his head to the side. “Takeout?”

“Or we could get off our asses and go make some real food.” You suggest, but exit TikTok to open google. “What do you want?”

likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in any future marc related posts.

DTS , @halfwayhearted @spidybaby !

#marc bernal #marc bernal x reader #marc bernal x you #marc guiu x female reader #marc bernal x y/n #marc bernal imagine #marc bernal one shot #blurb #football #fluff #fanfic #fc barcelona #fc barcelona fic #fc barça

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adhd-fandom-hyperfocus · 2 days ago

Text

✧₊⁺ This Was Not In The Codex ✧₊⁺

Pairing: demetrian titus x reader(f)

Summary: Titus is on a much-needed leave on Macragge. While there he runs into you, or rather you run into him escaping terrible punishment for being unable to tell a lord no.

Part 2/?

Arthur's Note: I am terrible at keeping POV when writing in the third person and try to do omniscient, but again I am no real writer.

Warnings: Pregnancy (reader is pregnant), mentions of SA, and general gimdarkness.

18+ Minors DNI

★。------ ＼｜／------。★

Your mind fought with itself to stir from the imposed sleep it had put you under. The snaring embrace of the blankets you were so carefully tucked into, and the feeling of the fresh clean robe against your skin; it was heavenly. You could float away, or sink further into the mattress. Your body was weak, and in truth you were unsure if you could move from your spot on your own now. Throne, you were not even sure what had allowed you to push on as long as you had at this point.

The scent of fresh cooked food tantalized your nose, and your mouth watered to the point of drooling. Oh, how lovely it would be to taste what your nose offered. The soft moan from your mind fantasizing over the food you smelt confirmed your return to the waking world.

“Oh good you are awake. I heard you stir, but I was unsure if you would go back to sleep.”

That low timber voice, just enough roughness around the edges, yet so full and deep. You knew this voice; it was the angel.

That's right you were taken, no saved, by one of the Emperor's angels. The events of what got you to this point float back to the forefront of your mind, but there was much you had no recollection of, and that sent a chill down your spine. You were in new clothes, on a bed...your tired mind sprung into panic, what happened to you while you were too weak to even be awake? A wave of nausea hit you with panic that the angel was not as much your savior as you wanted them to be.

The sudden spike in your heartbeat and the rapid movement of your eyes did not go unnoticed by Titus, he frowned and raised his massive hands up so you could see them, “You are okay My Lady. I summoned chapter serfs, only female, to clean you and change you. I promise your body was respected. One of them had a robe from when they carried a child, and you wear it now. They washed you down with a cloth before you were seen by a medicae. I did sit in and observe your inspection. Allowed me to ask questions. The care for a woman with child is not taught within the Codex Astartes. It seemed the attending apothecary was also interested.”

A mix of a sense of duty now for his charge and genuine curiosity as it occurred to him he knew nothing of procreation, well he knew the basics, the very basics. And understood he would never yearn for it; at least that is what he's been told and believed. But everything else? Information not important to his existence and purpose, until now. And the things he read and saw made him appreciate baseline women all the more. Even with all their augments Titus did not think an Astartes could handle labor much better.

Though you started to relax a little, forcing yourself to believe him, after all even if it were a lie, what could you do? He could crush you like an ant under heel.

“I got you and the babe some food. I hope it is to your and their liking. Since I know nothing of these things, I asked some of our chapter serfs who were mothers. I did not realize carrying a child could cause such...creative desires of food,” Titus smiled warmly at you. He seemed genuinely happy with his dudillgince and the feast he brought for you. It was strange to see someone, mostly a revered angel, so happy to be helping something as lowly as you. It made you feel terrible; perhaps you were corrupted by the ruinous powers?

“And I made sure there is plenty to put more meat on you and the little one.” he continued. This was much different than the normal tasks he would be dealing with, and this learning, even of something so niche and useless to one such of himself, was better than feeling bored. Plus, he was helping. Titus hoped those above him and his primarch saw this favorably. Though Calgar was planet side and was so far sympathetic towards the situation, even upset to have to admit even Macragge wasn't free of such gross baseline nobles. It was always a harrrowing realization that, there will always be those who abuse any and all power they have.

You look over that the massive plate? No it looked more like a serving platter that had smaller plates upon it, piled high with food. Fruits, vegetables and so much cooked meats and breads. Your stomach growled angerly, demanding you eat what was there. The noise as not just so loud it spooked you, but also hurt.

Overly aware now how starved you were. Your lower lip quivered as you tried to shrink into the bed in embarrassment, and fear. This angel of The Emperor was gracing you with his presence and blessing you with his attention and you're over where making gross indignant sounds like some animal.

It was terrifying how quick Titus could close the gap, with speed you almost couldn't comprehend he was kneeling down on the side of the bed, trying to make himself seem smaller, and offering the most gentle expression. Though it didn't seem natural, practiced, but not forced.

“Please do not fret My Lady, you are not in any trouble. Your body is letting me know I am rambling too much, and you the little one need to eat!” he smiled, resting his large hands on the bed, waiting for you to reach out and touch them, but you couldn't.

He was divine and you were dirty. But those eyes, deep green eyes so soft and pleading while his face looked as if carved from stone. His eyes expressed what his facial could not. Still unable to touch him, you at least made a relented move towards them with a hand of your own.

“You can eat in bed, does that sound nice? Can you sit up on your own, or would you like my aid?” he asked so gently, again, betraying his mighty size.

With your best effort you tried to sit up but your body just couldn't support itself like that. With the fear of survival somewhat muted now, your body was done forcing itself to preform mighty feats like standing. But before you could ask, Titus with such gentleness supported you and guided you up and back so you might use a headboard for support.

Happy that you were nice and steady and stood to go grab the food, but your lip was still trembling. An angel of The Emperor shouldn't be waiting on you! This was beneath him and you were foul for this.

“Please, My Lord, I can-”

“Titus, and please do not fret My Lady. I want to help,” he replied as if he read your mind. He placed a bedside tray before you that had a plate of food piled high upon it, “Now, eat up, I got you plenty so worry not. I will get you more when you finish.”

When you finish? More? How much did he expect you to eat? All of it? You couldn't fathom more than a few bites! Still, you nodded and offered a weak smile. God Emperor you didn't want to displease him.

You tried to pick at the food, tear pieces of bread, or take spoonfuls of food, but you had no real strength, your grip was frail and you kept dropping things. Which caused you to shake and whimper that your failure to do as you were told would be met with anger. It always was. But instead the angel just cooed it was okay, as he started to feed you.

It was not something you noticed but Titus was keep focused attention on making sure he did not feed you too quickly, starting small, if not a bit awkward conversation. Watching you chew and swallow, counting as you two talked. He did not want to overwhelm you, and he was warned if you ate too quickly your body would expel it. And the food was made of dreams to you.

The babe in your belly and your stomach so pleased. Titus kept the conversation light, asking little simple questions like your name, and if you had a favorite color; joking about how Astartes know so little about baseline human health, so you would have to help him learn. He kept you happily distracted as gingerly gave you another bite and another. The way he so sweetly held food up for you and slipped into your mouth so you didn't have to risk any of the energy you had. Doing so with such care as to not spook you.

It was hard to not just let your guard down. Your body didn't have enough strength to fight. Like a prey animal that accepts it fate. That was how your lord always put it. Everything would be better if you just stopped fighting, and at a young age you did. But this? It did not even feel like a dream or fantasy, not like any your simple mind could fathom.

The way his eyes lit up when the moans of sheer pleasure and joy slipped out of you. Seemingly remembering which gave a stronger response and getting you more of that. He was so proud his choice of food was appealing to you.

“See, nothing to worry about. I will have you and the little one up to proper weight in no time. I will be monitoring your recovery and the babe's development.” he said with such a kind smile eyes drifting to your bump, but mindful to not touch it.

In fact all his touches were soft and minimal, but in ways to show he only wished for your comfort. As your chewing slowed, Titus became aware you were full, but perhaps unsure to tell him. And you were. You were worried he would be upset you had not eaten all he brought, and you were enjoying having an angel treat you like someone important.

“Are you full Little Mother? It is okay if you are. I was told not to force more than you are comfortable with.” he assured you

You nod meekly and removed the tray, pleased he got you to each as much as you did, a plate and a half. Not as much as he like, but then again he was warned baseline humans while they did was more often than Astartes their caloric intake was much less. But you had the baby...he sighed to himself, truly human women were complicated beings. Perhaps that was why they could not be Astartes. Their bodies were not simple and easily changed.

You yawned and Titus was easing you back down into bed. The medicae mentioned it might be like this for a while; eating and sleeping as your body regained some form of strength again.

“Thank you my-Titus,” you say quietly, drained from eating but also so content. You could not remember a time where you ever felt full.

“No thanks needed. I have things I must attend, but I promise to return. I will be nearby or another should you need anything. Just call. Our hearing is sensitive so you do not need to worry about being loud for us to hear.” he explained as he tucked you in and fluffed your pillow.

Feeling bold he ghosted one of his giant hands over your small bump. Too enthralled with the idea life was growing inside there to notice your smile. Truly, this was something to marvel at. To house life and nurture it so it could grow. No Astartes or Primarch as far as he was aware could even fathom doing that,

“Beautiful.” he mutters so quietly you baseline ears did not pick it up.

Titus looked up at you and you were already sleeping again. He gave your bump a gentle pat before standing and tending to other matters. Like another meeting with Calgar about why he had a pregnant serf in his room now.

#warhammer 40k #warhammer 40000 #warhammer 40k x reader #demetrian titus #titus x reader #warhammer fanfic #space marine x reader #finally it is here #still hate it but I realized I would never post it at this point if I just didn't do it

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