#gonna think about this for the next few days

[classyrbf]

thinking about classmate!gojo who has no idea that the shy, nerdy girl in his class is secretly a perv who has a massive crush on him and has been trading nudes with him. From the moment you saw him in your lecture, glistening blue eyes and fluffy white hair, you immediately could feel your heart pounding. He was so cute, so handsome, and god his muscles drove you crazy, not to mention his smile. He’s only glanced your way a few times, though, but it wasn’t until you went on your fake account and began sending such lewd pictures of your body to him that he started noticing you. To your surprise, he actually sent one back and from there on out, you chatted every day.

You shouldn’t have been shocked to find out that he had a pretty cock too. Lengthy and thick with a pretty pink tip, just waiting to be sucked and fucked. Everytime you scrolled through your chats, your hands always found a way in your pants, rubbing at your little aching clit. You’d get so worked up, so wet, sending him videos of your dripping pussy, fucking yourself on your fingers just for him. He’d send a video back, jerking his cock, his heavy breathing and soft moans in the background. “God, baby, you have such a pretty pussy, you know that?” He chuckles. And the next morning, you’re both back to being complete strangers. He’s sitting in his seat on the other side of the room, obnoxiously tapping his pencil, completely unaware that you’re fawning over him, getting wet just thinking about him.

Sometimes you even leave class to slip into the bathroom, pulling your skirt up and snapping a picture of your cunt or unbuttoning your shirt to snap a picture of your tits just to hit send to him. And when Gojo gets the notif in class, the professors words going in one ear and out the other while he hides his phone to stare at the pictures you sent, his cock growing hard. And still, he has no idea that it’s you.

gojo: send a video of you playing with yourself for me, yeah?

Without hesitation, you listen. You’re in the bathroom stall, skirt hiked up while you quietly finger your soaked cunt, showing your slicked coated fingers to the camera. And a few minutes later, you walk back into class, watching gojo look down at his phone, trying so hard to pay attention but failing so miserably.

Later that night, Gojo is in his bed, fucking his fist to your pictures and videos, scrolling through your chats and messages, his cock throbbing in hand. “Fuck, I wish I knew what you looked like,” he muttered under his breath, pressing play on a video of you fucking your dildo, your ass bouncing up and down on the silicone. “I could fuck you so much better, baby. Have you screaming, begging, crying for my dick,” he grunted, following your pace. His eyes are fixated on your pussy, drooling over how it grips the toy, your juices dripping down it while your ass jiggles. Just as he’s about to cum, he clicks off your video and presses record, making sure to capture the moment to send to you. “Look at what you fucking do to me,” he rasps, and seconds later he’s cumming all over himself, moaning, grunting, swearing under his breath.

All you can do is smile when you get the video, giggling to yourself. His toned abs flexing underneath the light when he cums, throbbing veins decorating his thick cock. He’s just so perfect to you. A few seconds later he messages you.

gojo: when you gonna let me see your pretty face?

you: you’ve already seen it <3

[generallemarc]

The implication of therapy "as opposed to" physical transitioning, correct me if I'm wrong, seemed to be that some form of talk psychotherapy would be a worthy substitute to hormone transition.

Again, you are imagining me saying things and then addressing those imaginings. I'd appreciate it if you simply asked me first, as that would prevent you from writing essays directed at a version of me that only exists in your head. I'll just go ahead and be as specific as possible so as to try and prevent that:

Children, those whose bodies and minds aren't finished developing, should not be getting gender reassignment surgery in any case at all. Therapy can serve as a means of helping them stay alive, sane and happy(achieved in that order) until such time as there is no longer a risk to their health from this and they are legally and mentally competent to make such a monumental decision for themselves. The risks inherent to surgery are not worth it when simply waiting a couple years removes nearly all risk beyond the various potential complications from or issues with surgery that vary from person to person.

In terms of medication/hormones, I was under the impression that puberty blockers had the potential to do permanent damage to a child's health. I am not a medical professional, but I have been on over a dozen mental health medications over the course of my decade of dealing with treatment-resistant anxiety and depression, so trust me when I say that I understand the concept of taking certain risks for the sake of fixing a problem in the only way that currently presents itself. According to my pharmacist, my seroquil and lexapro have a high risk of causing arrythmia in my heart(although I feel like it would've happened at some point in the 2 years I've been on that combination before he randomly decided to get worried about it last week) to name a single example. But that's a problem that can be solved simply by ceasing the medications involved and being vigilant for a few days until you're out of the danger zone. Even with my condition being so bad as to make suicidal ideations somewhat frequent if I'm not on the right med, I would be incredibly hesitant to take a medication that ran the risk of permanently damaging my health, because the whole reason I take meds is to stay alive, sane and healthy, and all of that becomes much harder if I've done permanent damage to myself. But I remember what it was like in high school to be totally unmedicated and depressed beyond reach-if you'd offered me a med that would help but risk permanent damage, I'd've taken it without any thought whatsoever about any risks or consequences, no matter how bad or how permanent, because I was a kid who couldn't think further than the next semester. All that is to ask this-is it true that puberty blockers do not carry any significant or meaningful risk of permanent health damage? I'm referring to a risk that would stem either from the very effects of the drug itself or side effects that are common enough to affect a statistically significant amount of users; it's a fact of mental health meds that there are always going to be some unlucky individuals whose health is worsened by them for reasons that couldn't have been predicted. I've heard stories about how Abilify saved people from suicidal urges, but for me it set my stomach on fire unless I ate every four hours and gave me the worst panic attack of my entire life from literally no stimuli at all beyond "my body had Abilify in it and decided that was enough to panic like the world was gonna end." If blockers carry that kind of risk, well, I'm sure in a few decades when technology has advanced and mental health being taken seriously isn't something that senior citizens can say wasn't a thing when they were young they'll be looked at as backwards and simplistic compared to whatever their replacements are, like half the stuff I'm on now. But we can only live in the present, and in the present those kinds of risks where minorities of patients get side effects like that are often the best we can do.

...y'know, I think I understand the essay thing now. It's kinda hard to talk about this without going into detail after detail.

[estrellami-1]

March Mating Madness

Day 4: Bitching/Studding

Pretty Damn Good

Ao3 Link

Nearly called this fic “The Bitchification of Steve Harrington” because I think I’m hilarious.

Eddie never thought his big mouth would get him into situations like this.

This being, of course, Steve Harrington asking Eddie to-

No. There’s no way.

“Please?”

Eddie’s ears ring. His vision goes wobbly. “Uh,” he says dumbly. “I, uh. Think you should come in?”

Steve does, and now Steve’s standing in Eddie’s trailer. What the fuck.

“Okay,” he says, trying to pretend like this isn’t blowing his brain. “Um. My room, come on, this way.” He waves Steve further in, then stops so suddenly Steve runs into him. “Shit, sorry, just- water? Can I get- do you-”

“I’m fine,” Steve says. His voice is small, unsure, and when Eddie looks at him, his shoulders are drawn up and tense. Eddie scents the air, but Steve must be wearing blockers because he only smells his own manic confusion and Wayne’s comforting lemon scent, lingering from a few hours ago when he left for work.

“Okay,” Eddie says uncertainly, and continues on into his room, where he flops on the bed and pats an open space next to him. “Now, I’m gonna need you to tell me everything again, because I’m pretty sure I just hallucinated my biggest fantasy.”

The corner of Steve’s lips quirks up in a smile. “Your biggest fantasy?”

“Have you seen you?” Eddie rebuts. “Yeah, man.”

Steve snickers. “Well you didn’t hallucinate. I want you to bitch me.”

“Can you tell me why?”

Steve doesn’t meet his eyes. Messes with a loose threat on the edge of Eddie’s sheet. “I originally presented as an omega,” he admits in a whisper. “I don’t remember much from my presentation heat. Just… pain. I was able to piece together the pieces later. My parents got home during my heat and… my dad is very, uh. Particular about his image. And as his son, I’m a part of that image.” He swallows, works his jaw. “They took me to a clinic. Stopped my heat, turned it into a rut somehow.” He swallows again. His eyes are distant. “It burned like fire in my veins. Just.. hurt.”

Eddie blows out a breath. “Okay, so your parents are pieces of shit, got it.”

Steve sighs. “Yeah. They finally fucked off for good a few months ago. I’ve done the research, I’ve gotten everything I need. I just need someone to do the actual… bitching part of it.”

“Why me?”

“Oh, I dunno, maybe because half your rants are about forced conformity? Maybe because who the fuck else am I supposed to ask in Hawkins?” He shrugs miserably. “I have… one Alpha friend. And… I could ask her, and she’d probably do it, just because… because we’re us, y’know? But that’s exactly why I can’t ask her.”

“Because she’d put your comfort above her own discomfort.”

“Exactly.” He winds the thread around his finger. Unwinds it, and winds it the other way. “You don’t have to.”

Eddie chuckles. “I know. You’ve done the research, you said?”

“Mhm. I have a muzzle. I want this, and hopefully my body does too, so I shouldn’t- but if you want, I’ll wear it. I’ve got a- there’s a cream, that’s supposed to make me… more sensitive? I don’t know, uh. How much you know about this.”

“Not much, to be honest. I mostly deal with the… medical side of things.” At Steve’s confused blink, he elaborates. “Suppressants, dude.”

“Oh. Right. Um, okay. So… right now, with an Alphan body, I have a dick. And no vagina.”

“Right. I did pass biology.”

Steve’s cheeks burn. “Right. The cream goes, uh… where my vagina would be. Will be, hopefully. And then, uh. You, if you’ll help me, basically have to, uh… come. On that spot.”

“Ah,” Eddie says, brain buzzing again. “Okay. Easy enough. Explain the muzzle to me?”

“I want to be an omega, but that means violating the Alpha part of me. I could… become reactive.”

“Ah.”

“There’s also, uh.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “A cock cage? For me?”

“You’re asking me or telling me?”

“No, ‘m- I’m telling. The studding, uh… made me bigger? And the bitching is gonna make me smaller. And, y’know, omegas don’t have knots, so… if I can’t pop one…”

“Right, makes sense.”

“And I can pay you, of course.”

Eddie chuckles. “Why don’t we burn that bridge when we get to it. ‘S not like I wouldn’t be jerking off anyway. At least now it’s going somewhere useful, y’know?”

“Um,” Steve says, “sure?”

“Anything else I’ll need to do?”

Steve bites his lip. “This is also where the muzzle could come in, I guess. Basically you just… need to treat me like an omega you’re fucking. Cuddle me, scent me, things like that.”

“Ah. And while you’re more Alphan, you may react.”

“Exactly.”

“And once you’re more omegan? Anything specific I need to do or have?”

His cheeks burn again. “Um. I’m going to want to do more… omegan things. Like nesting. It’s not vital but it can help it take better. And it can prevent a drop.”

“Okay, so we’re doing it.” At Steve’s unsure look, he says, “Look, man, drops… they fucking suck, okay? And if I can make this process suck a little less for you, then hell yeah, we’re doing it.”

Steve ducks his head with a shy smile. “Okay.”

“Okay. You got the things with you?”

Steve’s head shoots up. “You want to do it now?”

“Is there a reason why you can’t?”

“I… I guess not. Okay. I’ll just, um. Go get it, then?”

“Or we could go back to your place,” Eddie offers. “More comfortable for you. More scents you know.”

Steve shakes his head. “It’s also got my scent as an Alpha there, which can negatively affect it.”

Eddie shrugs. “Either way, man, just want you comfortable.” He walks him to the front door, waits while he grabs a bag from the passenger seat of his car.

They settle back in his room, Steve laying on the bed, lower half bared to the room. He tucks himself into the cock cage and rubs the cream over the area.

“Damn,” Eddie says, lower half also bared. He’s working his cock up to full hardness, adding a little lube to help with the friction. “‘S a good thing I don’t get stage fright.”

Steve giggles—fucking giggles—and Eddie already knows this is going to be hazardous for his health.

But god damn will it be worth it.

Eventually he comes, and he aims for the spot on Steve where the cream had been rubbed earlier. As soon as he pulls away, Steve’s got his hand down there, rubbing it in.

Eddie grins, only a little manic, as he lays down next to Steve. “You gonna snap at me if I cuddle you?”

“Um.” Steve blinks. “No?”

“Cool,” Eddie says, and proceeds to wrap himself around Steve like an octopus. He pulls the comforter up too, tucks his head into Steve’s neck, and rubs his nose along the edge of Steve’s mating gland. “Think it stuck?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Steve whispers, but then he immediately starts laughing, and suddenly Eddie feels a whole lot better about this.

So it goes for a few weeks. Every other day, like clockwork, Steve’s at Eddie’s trailer.

One day Eddie opens the door for Steve and notices something. “You’re not wearing a scent patch!”

Steve beams. “My scent’s turning more omegan!”

“Dude!” Eddie says, and pulls him into a hug. “That’s great!” He ushers him in, locks the front door, herds him to his room. “Come on, come on, let’s go!”

“Jesus,” Steve laughs, “eager much?”

“Excited,” Eddie corrects him. “It’s working!”

Steve nods happily. “My balls are almost gone,” he tells Eddie, unbuttoning his pants and shucking them. “And my cunt’s getting more sensitive.”

Eddie shucks his own jeans. “Lemme see? I wanna see if we can try something different today.”

Steve lays back and opens his legs, and Eddie traces a gentle finger right where his vagina will be. It’s a little puffy, and he thinks he can see the start of some lips.

“Oh, shit,” Steve whispers, tensing his legs and biting his lower lip. “Uh, Eddie-”

“Oh, shit, sorry,” Eddie says. “Did that hurt?”

“Um. It actually felt good? Like… really good?” Steve doesn’t meet Eddie’s eyes. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. It does make me think my idea will work, though.” He puts a gentle hand on Steve’s thigh. “How do you feel about me pretending to fuck you? Basically I’d rut against your cunt. I’d pull back when I’m about to come, so I’d get it where we need it. But if you need me to treat you like an omega…”

“Okay, yeah, yeah, let’s do it. Do you- um, do you want me to wear the muzzle?”

“Nope. I want your nose in my neck. Getting fucked and being surrounded by the scent of the Alpha fucking you? ‘S gotta kick it up a notch.”

“Worth a shot,” Steve agrees, fiddling with the cream. “Um. Would you want to do this?”

Eddie sends him a crooked grin, plucks the tube from his fingers. “Would I want to prep your pussy to take my cock? Yeah, I would.”

“Oh, shit,” Steve whispers.

Eddie freezes. “Too much?”

“No, uh. It actually. Turned me on?”

“Y’know, you say a lot of things as questions that shouldn’t be questions. Did I or did I not turn you on?”

“You did,” Steve admits, cheeks flaming.

Eddie starts rubbing, dipping in closer to nudge his nose against Steve’s scent gland. “Smell sweet,” he murmurs. “Like cherries.” Steve’s breath hitches, and he nudges his hips up into Eddie’s hand.

“Want you to fuck me,” he murmurs back, notching his nose in Eddie’s neck, breathing in his woodsmoke scent. His hips buck up again, and a whine rips its way from his throat, thin but present.

Eddie rumbles back, a calming Alpha sound, and slows his fingers. “Can’t yet,” he whispers into Steve’s neck. The brush of his lips over Steve’s gland makes him shiver. “Y’want it, though? When I can?”

“Please,” Steve whispers, fingers digging into Eddie’s hips.

“I’ve gotcha.” He pulls away for barely a second to reach the lube, slicking himself up before beginning to rut against Steve. “Think you can come this way?”

“Oh, fuck- I- I dunno. Feels- mm, like heat more than rut.”

“Yeah? You tryin’a squirt on me?”

“Oh, fuck-” Steve goes tense all over, eyes squeezed shut as he pants open-mouthed.

Eddie stops but doesn’t pull away, rubbing Steve’s hip with his hand. “Hey,” he murmurs when Steve’s eyes open. “That looked good.”

Steve hums. “‘T was.” His fingers flex on Eddie’s hips as his eyes slip shut again. “C’mon, keep going.”

Eddie tests a thrust. “You’re not too sensitive?”

“‘M sensitive, but ‘s good.”

“Think you can do that again?”

“Hm, maybe.”

“Was it- did you come?”

“Felt like it, but…” he flops a hand down in between them, feeling the cock cage. “‘S dry.” Suddenly he sniffles, and Eddie’s horrified to see tears in his eyes when he blinks them open. Eddie immediately stops, causing Steve to whine.

“Hey, hey, shh, it’s okay, I’m right here. Don’t wanna hurt you. You’re crying.”

“‘M happy,” Steve whispers.

Eddie cups his face, wipes a tear from the corner of Steve’s eye. “Yeah? Feel more like you?”

Steve sniffles, nods. “Keep going,” he whispers, eyes fluttering shut as Eddie rocks his hips once more. “Feels so good, Alpha, wanna come again.”

Eddie groans. “I’ve gotcha, ‘mega. Gonna make you feel so good.” He starts mouthing at Steve’s scent gland, and Steve whines again, little high-pitched hums that show how good it feels.

“Gonna come,” Steve whimpers, and does a second later, wrapping his legs around Eddie’s hips and pulling him in, squeezing as the pleasure runs its course.

“Shit,” Eddie groans. His cock is practically pulsing with the need to come. As soon as Steve releases him, he pulls back and strips it furiously, aiming for the spot he’d just been rutting up against.

He finally comes and gently rubs it in, watching Steve’s face for any sign of discomfort. Thankfully he doesn’t find any, so he grabs for a tissue to clean his dick with then pulls the comforter up as he wraps Steve in his arms.

They’re both silent for a few minutes, and it’s only when Eddie comes down from his high that he realizes Steve’s purring into his neck. He pulls back to look at Steve, maybe say something, when he realizes Steve’s asleep.

He sighs, smiles, and pulls Steve back in, letting his own, deeper purr rumble through him as he lets himself drop off to sleep.

He’s awakened later by his bedroom door opening. He’s warm and comfortable, and there’s a warm, comforting weight in his arms, and he doesn’t want to open his eyes. He compromises and opens one bleary eye to see Wayne looking first at him, then Steve, then back to him. He purses his lips, nods, and steps out, closing the door with a click.

Eddie lets his eye fall shut again, but he’s awake now, so he drifts for a few minutes before his bladder makes itself known. He carefully extricates himself out of Steve’s own hold, pulling the comforter up more securely around him, and silently pads out of the room, shutting the door before going to relieve himself.

He walks out to the kitchen to find Wayne cooking. There’s a pot of coffee on, and Eddie sends out a thankful scent as he grabs a mug.

“So,” Wayne says.

“Yup.”

“You bein’ careful?”

Eddie tilts his head. “As much as I can be,” he finally says.

Wayne hums. “What’s his name?”

“Steve. Harrington.” At Wayne’s raised brow, Eddie chuckles. “I know, I know. Turns out he’s maybe not such a bad dude.”

“You just hookin’ up? Or you two boyfriends?”

“No, it’s… a little more complicated than that. Not really my story to tell.”

Wayne hums. “Always thought it was weird, y’know. That big house. I’d drive by and only ever see one car in the driveway.”

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees, nudging Wayne out of the way to reach the bread, “that’s part of it.”

Just then his bedroom door opens, and Steve stumbles out, rubbing his eye and yawning. Thankfully, he’s put his boxers back on.

Eddie smiles and gestures for Steve to join them. “Hey, Steve. Come meet my Uncle Wayne.”

“Oh,” Steve says, looking nervous. “Hello, sir.”

“Wayne,” Wayne corrects. “Steve, is it?”

“Yes, sir. Um. Wayne.”

Wayne chuckles. “Y’like eggs, Steve?”

“Oh, no, you don’t have to make me anything-”

Eddie snickers and snakes an arm around Steve’s waist. “It’s no use arguing. He’s gonna end up feeding you anyhow.”

Steve’s face flames. “I like eggs. Thank you.”

Wayne nods. “There’s coffee, for if you’re human and drink the stuff.”

Steve laughs and relaxes a little, accepts the mug Eddie hands him. “Thank you.”

“Steve,” Wayne begins.

“Yes?”

“By all accounts, you two are grown and able to make your own decisions. But I’d like to know what you’re doing so I can help, if I can.”

“Oh,” Steve says, and looks uncertainly at Eddie.

Eddie shrugs. “It’s your choice. I’m fine with it, and he’s chill.”

“He won’t, um…” Steve shifts uncomfortably. “I know some people can be weird about it.”

“He’ll be fine if you want to tell him.”

“I’m a busybody,” Wayne says. “Y’don’t owe me a damn thing, alright, kid?”

Steve chuckles and nods. “Okay. Um. I presented omega. My parents got home halfway through my presentation heat, took me to a clinic, and changed it to a presentation rut.”

Wayne’s eyes narrow. “How old were you, kid?”

“Um. Fourteen?”

“Hm. Underage.”

“My parents have… a lot of money. And status.”

“So I gathered. Go on.”

“I never wanted to be an Alpha. I heard Eddie’s rants, during school, and figured if anyone would help me… it would be him. I asked, and he said yes.” He fidgets. “I, um. I did all the research, and bought everything I needed, but I couldn’t- um, outside of a clinic, I need an Alpha to help me.”

Wayne waves him off. “Y’don’t gotta explain yourself. Eddie’s a grown man who can make his own decisions. Let’s back up for a second, though. Y’know you can sue your parents and the clinic that performed that procedure on you?”

Steve blinks. “I can?”

“You were underage, son. That’s not legal. The case tells itself. ‘Specially if you’ve got documentation.”

“I might,” Steve muses. “Or, I guess my dad might, actually. I know where it would be.”

“You have to understand you might not have parents if you decide to sue them. ‘Specially if they’re cut from the cloth I think they are.”

“I’m pretty sure I don’t have parents already,” Steve says softly. “But if I could get money, get out of that house, maybe a place of my own… that would be really nice.”

Wayne nods. “I’ll talk to some guys I know. See what we can’t do.”

“Thank you,” Steve whispers, and Wayne pulls him into a hug.

Two days later he’s back in the trailer, scenting Eddie even before he steps fully inside. He seems to realize what he’s doing as soon as Eddie stiffens. Eddie does his best to relax, send a warm smile Steve’s way.

“Sorry,” Steve mutters, ducking his head. “I dunno what that was.”

“I think that was just your omega instincts kicking in.” He shuts the door. “Maybe today you try making a nest? Try and, like… activate those instincts?”

“Sure,” Steve nods, then hesitates. “Um. I have- this is part of what I have ready, actually, but… I’ve got some scents from my pack in my car?”

Eddie gestures. “Yeah, bring them in! This is for you. If there’s anything I can do to make you feel more comfortable, I wanna do it.”

Steve blushes, ducks his head. “Thanks. I’ll just, um, go grab it then?”

He hurries out, and Eddie hurries to his room, does his best to make his bed. Straightens the sheets, fluffs the pillow. The sheets had all been bunched at the bottom of the bed, and maybe that’s better for Steve, Eddie doesn’t know, but he figures a blank slate might be best.

And anyways, he likes the idea of Steve including his scent in the nest. Sue him.

Steve returns quickly, walking in just as Eddie’s finishing with the bed. “Okay. You’re sure you do don’t mind me bringing my pack’s scents in here? There are some Alphas in my pack.”

Eddie smiles warmly. “I’m nowhere near my rut, Steve. I don’t mind you bringing other Alphas’ scents into my room. It’s fine.”

“Okay,” Steve nods, and starts on the nest.

Eddie doesn’t know what a nest is supposed to look like, so he’s fascinated. There are thicker sweaters and jackets, and in one case even a pair of jeans. These all get bunched up along the outer wall, with t-shirts and bandanas making up the base. The base is rather patchy, letting Eddie’s comforter peek through, and Eddie’s happy about it, but does his best not to let the happiness show. He’s just here to help bitch Steve, after all. They don’t mean anything to each other, though of course he wants to. God does he want to. He wants to court Steve in a way he’s never wanted to before. He wants to bring him flowers and make food for him, scour secondhand shops for the perfect jewelry for his neck and finger. He wants to show Steve he can provide for him. He knows he may not be able to provide Steve with quite the standard of living he’s used to, but he can love Steve for who he is, which is clearly more than can be said for his parents.

He’s jolted out of his reverie by a sound. He narrows in on Steve and realizes he’s purring, and a smile breaks out across his face when he sees the omega curled up in his nest, happy as a clam.

“I didn’t know it could feel like this,” Steve whispers, broken up by purrs. He looks down at his nest, plucks at an orange t-shirt. “Will you- um. Will you join me?”

Eddie stills. “You want me to enter your nest?”

Steve looks up at him from under his eyelashes and nods. “Yes, please.”

The thing is, Eddie thinks, he doesn’t think Steve knows how dangerous those eyes of his are. Eddie’s pretty sure wars have been fought over less. Surely Helen of Troy, beautiful as she was, couldn’t hold a candle to Steve’s eyes. “I’d be honored,” he whispers back, moving forward and carefully climbing in, slotting himself behind Steve.

“I think,” Steve murmurs, “I’m almost done. I think it’s just… the really physical part left, y’know?”

Eddie hums, scents the air. He smells Steve’s pack, but above all he smells Steve, tangy cherries and something sweet like whipped cream. “You smell like an ice cream sundae.”

“Ugh,” Steve says, “the less I hear about ice cream sundaes, the better.”

Eddie blinks. “Why?”

“Did you never visit Starcourt?”

“I did, like, once. I don’t go to malls very often.”

“Yeah, I should’ve seen that coming.” Steve sighs. “I worked at the Scoops Ahoy there. The amount of cold, sticky messes I had to clean up… if I never have to do that again, it’ll be too soon.”

“Ah,” Eddie nods. “The perils of a corporate job.”

Steve snorts. “As opposed to you? Risking getting shanked for shit weed?”

“I’ll have you know I sell only the finest marijuana grown in Reefer Rick’s attic,” he tells Steve, feigning protest and pulling him closer to squeeze just a little, grinning when Steve laughs and squirms. He relaxes his hold but doesn’t let go, and Steve sighs happily, losing any remaining tension in his body. “This is nice.”

“You don’t puppy pile with your pack?”

Steve works his lip. “Not… while I’m, uh, in-between.”

Eddie’s eyes narrow. “Are they not okay with it?”

“No, they’re fine for the most part. There’s one pup who kind of hates me because I dated his sister for a while, and he’s also just kind of an asshole, but for the most part they’re fine.”

“So why not puppy pile?”

“I guess because… like, I know it’s okay. But it… it’s happening to me, and even though I know it’s okay, it’s still… weird, kinda. And I don’t want anyone else to feel uncomfortable.” He sighs. “I don’t know. I don’t think I explained it right.”

“I think I get it. Your brain knows it’s okay, but your heart is gonna take a little more convincing, even though your pups are fine with it.”

“Y-yeah, exactly.” He takes a stuttering breath, and Eddie sits up to lean over him.

“What’s wrong?”

Steve blushes firetruck red. “Uh. You called them my pups. And I… I love the idea of having pups of my own one day.”

“Yeah? How many little Harringtons you want runnin’ around?”

“God, like six,” Steve breathes. “A vanful. Get a Winnebago and pack everyone up and just… drive. See the Grand Canyon and the redwoods and the beaches in California and Florida and New York City. Just get the fuck out of Hawkins.”

Eddie chuckles. “Sounds pretty damn good.”

“What do you want to do?”

Eddie swallows down what he wants to say. “I dunno. I always thought I’d make it big, maybe in Indy, or somewhere in California. Me and my band against the world, y’know? But I know now that we’re pretty shit. We’ve got a good group at the Hideout, if you count five or so drunks that only occasionally heckle us.” Steve snickers. Eddie buries his smile in the back of Steve’s neck. “But… I dunno. It’d be nice to settle down. Somewhere out of Hawkins, obviously.”

“Oh, obviously.”

“And just… be. Somewhere people hear the name Munson and don’t immediately think Al.”

“‘S that your dad?”

“Mhm. In name only, Wayne’s more my dad than he is. He’s currently in jail. Hopefully.”

Steve hums. Doesn’t offer meaningless platitudes, which Eddie likes, just burrows back into Eddie more. Freezes and flips over to face Eddie, who winces and shuts his eyes. “Eddie.”

“Hm?”

“Eddie.” Eddie opens his eyes to see Steve’s teasing smile. “What about this is doing it for you?”

Eddie groans. “You’re an omega who invited me into your nest, okay? And anyways we’ve been doing this for a while and this is the first time we haven’t… y’know. It’s Pavlovian at this point!”

Steve smiles, slips a thumb under Eddie’s shorts. “I think we should take care of it.”

Eddie stills his hand with a small smile. “Only if you want to,” he says softly. “I’m okay.”

“I want to,” Steve promises, just as quietly. “And even if I didn’t really we should anyways. Because I do want this. I want to be an omega. A real one.”

“You are a real one,” Eddie argues, “but I get it. We can. You still sensitive?”

Steve hums. “It feels different, but yeah.”

“Well lemme see what we’re working with. You might be opening up.”

“God, I hope so.” He shucks his shorts off and Eddie crawls down to the foot of the bed, gently moving Steve’s legs up and out of the way. Before he looks, he finds Steve’s eyes. “Do you want me to grab a towel first? So we don’t get your nest dirty?”

Steve chirps, an inadvertent sound that has a blush rising to his cheeks. “Yes, please.”

Eddie smiles, brushes a kiss to Steve’s knee on his way out of bed. He finds a towel and spreads it out under Steve. “Okay,” he murmurs. “You ready?”

“Mhm. Please.”

Another kiss, this time to the opposite knee, and he lays down, gently moving Steve’s cock out of the way. It’s noticeably smaller, and his balls are gone. He brushes a finger lightly over where Steve’s vagina will be. Steve hisses and bucks his hips, and Eddie instinctually responds with a low croon, soothing him. “Almost there,” he tells Steve. “It’s a little damp, and very thin-feeling. I think after today we might be done.”

“Oh,” Steve murmurs, cherry mixing with something sharper, like pineapple.

Eddie pops his head back up, frowning at Steve. “What? What’s wrong?”

Steve opens his mouth like he’s going to say it, then seems to change his mind with a shake of his head. “No, nothing.”

“Hey, if I’m doing something you don’t like-”

“No, it’s- it’s not you.” Steve sighs, rubs a hand over his face. “It’s me. Sorry. It’s fine.”

“Nope.” Eddie army-crawls back up to Steve’s side, huffing and puffing to get a laugh out of Steve. “You’re upset. I wanna help. I can listen if you need to vent. I can hold you if you need to cry. But we’re not moving on until you tell me whats going on.” He nudges his forehead against Steve’s. “‘S not healthy to keep it all bottled up all the time.”

Steve gusts out a breath. “Fine, it is you, okay? But it’s not, because you’re just being nice and doing me a favor and I know that, I swear I do, but my stupid heart doesn’t and it wants you, okay? I want to be your omega, I want you to be my Alpha, I want you to court me and meet my pack but you’re just helping me out. And again I know that! I know you’re just helping me out!”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Eddie soothes. “It’s okay. You’re hyperventilating, Steve, take a few deep breaths. With me, okay? Come on, you can do it, in and out with me.” He breathes for a few seconds, nodding encouragingly when Steve’s stuttering breaths start matching up with his. “There you go, good job. Steve,” he starts with a chuckle, “I think we should’ve talked about this a while ago.”

“I knew it,” Steve mutters, shuffling down the bed to reach his shorts. “‘M sorry, I can leave. I didn’t mean to- to lead you on. I’m sorry.”

“Whoa, hey, wait.” He cups Steve’s cheek with his hand, then shifts down to rub his wrist on Steve’s scent gland. “That’s not what I’m saying at all. I’m saying I want the exact same thing you do.”

Steve’s eyes flutter. “You do?”

“Mhm. I wanna be your Alpha, baby. Wanna take care of you. Buy you all the pretty things and let everyone know that you’re mine. Wanna court you properly, meet your pack, speak with your pack Alpha about asking for your hand. I want to give you every good thing you deserve.” He nudges Steve’s cheek with his nose. “How’s that sound?”

“Sounds pretty damn good,” Steve manages, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s neck.

“Steve.”

“Hm?” He doesn’t move, just tightens his arms a little.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yeah,” Steve breathes. “Please.”

He rolls them over, bracketing Steve in a move that makes the omega whine a little. He leans in and slowly, gently brushes their lips together.

His eyes fall shut just after Steve’s, and he exhales, brushing their lips together twice more before they’ve both had enough.

Steve leans up just as he presses hard into Steve’s lips. Their noses smash together and they pull apart, giggling and blinking, before Eddie carefully, gently pushes him back down. He takes advantage of Steve’s parted lips and dips his tongue in, licking across his teeth before sealing their mouths together.

Steve exhales shakily into his mouth, fingers tightening at the nape of his neck, and one of his hands finds its way to Steve’s hip, grips hard, hopefully leaving bruises.

Steve pulls away to pant, pushing his head back into the pillow. “Eddie, please.”

“I’ve gotcha, baby,” Eddie murmurs, dipping down to nip at Steve’s throat. “Tell me what you want.”

He thrusts his hips up. “Want you to fuck me,” he murmurs, gasping when Eddie nips particularly hard. “Fuck, Alpha, please.”

“Yeah baby, yeah, I’ve gotcha. I gotcha, omega, gonna fuck you. Fuck, you’re a dream. Can’t wait ‘till I can fit inside of you.”

Steve whines. “Can’t for a week,” he tells Eddie through gasping breaths. “After I open. Gotta- gotta let it, um. Shit,” he breathes. “Gotta let it heal. Want to, though, want it, please-”

“Yeah, baby, I gotcha. Y’want me to rut against you again?” He rubs the cream in, focuses on where he can feel Steve’s clit coming in. Steve kicks a leg out, whines high in his throat.

“Yes,” he gasps. “Please, Eddie- Alpha, wan’it-”

Eddie shushes him. “I know, baby, I know. I’m right there with you. Fuck, can’t wait ‘till I can go down on you. Gonna eat you out, bet you taste so sweet.”

“Fuck,” Steve moans. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, baby. Gonna get my tongue in you, deep as it’ll go, ‘till it hurts but I won’t care ‘cause it’s you, fuckin’ perfect for me. Gonna make you come just from my mouth on you, maybe even twice, then I’ll slide in easy as anything. You’ll be so loose for me, so perfect around my dick, around my knot. Gonna pump you full, get started on those six pups you want.”

Steve’s whining nonstop now, humping up into Eddie, meeting every one of his thrusts downward. “Eddie, Alpha, please-”

“C’mon, baby,” he murmurs. “Come on my cock. Can’t you feel it in you? I can feel you, squeezing me. You want this, don’t you? Want me to paint your insides with my come.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Steve chants, squeezing Eddie’s hips with his thighs. “Gonna- gonna come, gonna-” he cuts off with a high whine, going still as he throws his head back, panting.

Eddie worms his hand in between, squeezes the base of his dick hard, gritting his teeth and panting as Steve slowly relaxes.

He sits up and wiggles back a little so he can finish, aiming for the spot that, at this point, has featured in his dreams. Rubs it in when he’s finished, then collapses half on top of and half next to Steve, tucking his nose into Steve’s neck and letting Steve do the same. “So good, baby,” he mumbles, yawning.

“So good,” Steve agrees, breathing it into the space between them. “Can’t believe you want me back.”

Eddie pulls back, swipes a gentle thumb over Steve’s forehead, moving his hair out of his face. “Baby,” he whispers, “I’ve wanted you since I saw you. Pre-presentation, even. You walked into school one day, laughing with Tommy about God-knows-what, and the light was coming in behind you like you were a fuckin’ angel, and I couldn’t breathe I thought you were so pretty.”

Steve huffs something like a laugh. “And then I ruin it by being a douchebag.”

“Nah,” Eddie tells him. “Cause I saw you. That wasn’t ever you, baby. That was your fuckin’ clown of a friend trying to get his king’s approval. It was Tommy knocking books out of hands and shoving heads in toilets. And you just looked on, and I saw you, baby. Your face said try harder but your eyes said how do I stop this?”

“I tried,” Steve whispers. “I tried to stop it, didn’t know how. Couldn’t find the words that worked.”

Eddie presses a quick, sweet kiss to his lips. “I know.” His lips quirk up. “Y’know I overcharged him for weed?”

Steve starts laughing. “That was my money, you dickhead!”

Eddie shoots up as his jaw drops. “It was?” Steve turns into Eddie’s shoulder, giggling almost hysterically, and nods. “Shit,” Eddie whispers. “Uh. I mean, I can pay you back? But it’s gonna take a while, I didn’t overcharge him much but you bought a lot, so…”

Steve shakes his head, finally calming down. “I don’t care. That’s just- shit, Rob’s gonna have a field day. I can’t wait.”

“You… want to tell him?”

“Her. Robin. Buckley? From band?”

“Oh, yeah, I know her. How do you know her?”

“We worked at Scoops together. I think we’re both traumatized from that job, honestly.”

“I’d expect nothing less from a corporate job.”

“Anyways. She’s the Alpha I was talking about? The one who would help me, but I couldn’t ask her?”

“Okay, yeah. She’s not gonna, like, come after me, is she?”

Steve waves him off. “Nah, you’re fine. She’s just gonna tease me about it.”

“M’kay.” He lays back down, kisses Steve’s shoulder. “Can I meet her?”

“You want to?”

“I mean, not to overstep, but… that’s kinda the next step, right?”

Steve giggles happily, pumps out sweet cherries and cream. “Mhm. Come see me at work tomorrow? Family Video. Robin works there too, her shift starts at one.”

“When does yours start?”

“Nine. I get off at three, with a half-hour break for lunch.”

“What if I bring you lunch at one?”

Steve smiles broadly. “That sounds perfect.”

“M’kay. What do you want?”

“Oh, I don’t care. Whatever you wanna get is fine, I’m really not picky.”

“Baby.” Eddie looks into his eyes, serious. “I’d drive to Indy if there’s something there you want. I promise you, whatever you want, you can have.”

“Even if it’s really out of the way?”

“It could be past Indy and I’d get it.”

“Benny’s?”

Eddie chuckles. “Baby, Benny’s is nothing. Course I can pick that up.”

“M’kay. Thank you.”

He picks up Benny’s the next day, also buying a brownie for Robin. He doesn’t know what she likes, but it’s hard to go wrong with brownies. Especially from Benny’s.

He walks in and grins at Steve, who’s manning the counter. “Hey, Stevie.”

“Eddie!” Steve perks up, runs around the counter, and jumps into his arms. Eddie laughs and catches him, turning in a circle and burying his nose in Steve’s neck.

“Well you’re certainly happy.”

“Mhm, I am.” He releases Eddie, bounces on the balls of his feet. “Guess what.”

Eddie hums, wrapping an arm around his waist and guiding him back over to the counter so he can put the food down. “Uh… you get off early today and can come see me even earlier.”

Steve pouts. “No, but I wish.”

“I can just stay, baby, I don’t have anything to do.”

“But it’s boring here!”

Eddie gasps. “Are you saying I’m boring? Are you saying it’s even possible to be bored when I’m here?”

Steve giggles. “I guess not.”

“‘Sides, I can never be bored when I’m with you.”

“Flirt,” Steve mutters, but his cheeks pinken anyways.

Before Eddie can guess again, Robin walks in. “Hey, Steve. Munson.”

“Buckley,” Eddie nods. “Got you a brownie if you want it.”

Robin blinks at him for a minute. “Steve?”

“Hm?”

“Keep him.”

Steve laughs. “That’s the plan. Oh, you’re both here! Great! Okay, guess what!”

Robin and Eddie exchange a look. “What?” Robin asks.

Steve leans closer to them. “It opened.”

It takes a second, but Eddie gets it just a split second before Robin does, yelling in excitement and gathering Steve up in another hug to swing him in another circle. “Baby! That’s so great! I’m so happy it worked!”

“Thanks to you,” Steve murmurs.

“Nah, I had the easy bit,” Eddie winks. “You did the hard part. And all the research, Christ, I woulda failed that immediately.”

Robin bats at Eddie’s arm, hard enough he finally lets go of Steve to swat at her. She zips in while she has the chance and tackles Steve in her own hug. “How do you feel?”

Steve chuckles. “Honestly? Not that different. I’ve already been acting more omegan with the two of you, and you treat me more like an omega too, so it’s really just the final physical part slotting into place.”

“Still,” she mumbles, tightening her hold on him. “That’s really great. I’m really happy for you.”

“I am too,” he says honestly.

“Stevie,” Eddie starts. “How would you feel if I left a little early? You’ve got your nest stuff in my room, but now that you’re, like, officially an omega, and not making Alpha hormones, and not influenced by the scent… what if we air out your room and move your nest there? Would you want that?”

Steve pulls away from Robin. “Oh, right, of course you don’t want it in your room. That’s fine, we can move it.”

Eddie furrows his brows. “Hang on, sweetness, that’s not what I said. I love having your nest in my room. I just want it where you want it. I’d be overjoyed to keep it in my room. I’d also be more than happy to help you transfer it.”

Steve looks up at him with fucking dangerous eyes. “It can stay?”

Eddie pulls him into a hug. “Of course it can, baby. I’m so sorry I made you think it couldn’t.” He runs a hand over Steve’s hair, smiles at him. “Hey.”

Steve immediately turns pink. “Hi.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes, please.”

He does, thoroughly, only pulling away when Robin clears her throat. “Steve, if you’re gonna bone, at least clock out for it. And please go into the break room. At the very least.”

Steve turns firetruck red. “Uh. No. Sorry.”

“Can’t anyways,” Eddie adds. “Not for a week now, right?”

Steve pouts. “Dammit.”

Eddie snickers. “What, cuddling with me isn’t enough?”

Steve just rolls his eyes.

Eddie starts courting Steve that day. By the time he’s given Steve his last present, it’s in the trailer, which they both call home now. That night, Wayne gets home and tells Steve his contacts came through, and Steve will be getting compensation for being forced into an underage studding.

It’s more than enough, especially with the sale of the house in Loch Nora, to pay for a modest house on the edge of town.

Steve goes through a few heats while his body remembers how to be an omega, but after his third heat, he and Eddie stand in the bathroom, looking down at the stick in a little purple cup.

Two blue lines stare back up at them.

[thatnonameuser]

The Red King holds a Bleeding Head

A Wonderland of Yanderes - Masterlist Chapter 1. Heartslaybul Part 10. Chapter END TW-Descriptions of Gore.

Mis-misadventures with Tweedle Dee and Dum

Since the make-up unbirthday party yesterday, you felt as if you could safely say that the bulk of your drama was over, which unfortunately meant you had to go back into the horror story. Because in the few days since Riddle’s overblot your mind was consumed with worry. 

While you were a little consumed with worry for Riddle’s health given the near death experience, you had spent most of it worried for yourself. Sure, you sort of forgave Riddle for his accidental slip in his fit of explosive rage. But an apology and forgiveness couldn’t erase the damage he might have done. Because now, you spent the last few days worried on how Ace and Deuce would react to that. And to make  your blood pressure go up even more, since Riddle’s overblot Ace and Deuce hadn’t even said anything to you about it. 

To make matters worse, your dreams had completely stopped over the last few days. That last one you had was the night of Riddle’s overblot and now instead of watching Winston lose his mind, you dreamed of the random garbage you once did before this abrupt vacation to Twisted Wonderland. Since Winston had said there was a way out of Wonderland, you had hoped that in your next dream you’d find the way out you were begging for. But it seemed that you would have to keep begging. 

With all these concerning thoughts swirling in your head, it felt impossible to unweave them to feel even a semblance of peace. Altogether it  massively sucked, it just seemed that the universe was against you again-

“Hello? Twisted Wonderland to _______?” Ace’s voice shakes you from your thoughts, and you suddenly zone back in. Ace looks up at you with a playful expression, “You still here with us?” he teases. 

“Oh, sorry.” You chuckle nervously as you’re brought back down to earth and the rose maze. You’d come here that morning to hang out with Ace and Deuce, because even if you were extremely suspicious of them, you still enjoyed their company… just a little bit. As they’d told you, with it being the day after the unbirthday party, the dorm was all busy trying to clean up the garden for an upcoming event in two days. So you and Grim were in the hedgehog enclosure, keeping Ace and Deuce company as they fed the adorable hedgehogs.

“Grim, stop eating it!” Deuce is busy trying to get the perpetually starving cat out of the hedgehog food. Or more specifically, while you helped Ace and Deuce fed the hedgehogs, and Grim busied himself with eating the hedgehog food. “It’s for the hedgehogs!”

“Myah!” Grim struggles in Deuce’s grip.“I was promised free food, I’m gonna eat free food!” Grim argues,  managing to stuff one more pawful into his mouth before Deuce rips him away. Yes, you did say that you’d stop by Trey to see if he had any leftover dessert from the unbirthday party yesterday, but considering how much the feline ate maybe it was for the best that he ate his weight in the hedgehog food instead of tearing up the grass with his fangs.

To be honest, you’re a little surprised that NRC shells out the big bucks for wet food for the hedgehogs, and considering how famished they are for it, you’re surprised there is so much of it. Minus the stuff Grim is rapidly consuming like a rabid animal. But considering the hedgehogs got used as balls, that’s probably the payment for whatever pain they experience. 

Though the smell does bother you. It doesn’t smell like fish or meat, more metallic, like copper.

Despite that, you still help out and feed them. Almost all of them swarm you, eager to be fed by you rather than Ace and Deuce. You hum a soft laugh, reaching down to stroke their sharp quills on their tiny heads. “I don’t think they like you guys very much.” You chuckle lightly,  as you set down the one you were holding to stroke back the tiny quills on each of their little heads.

“Yeah, because you’re the one pettin’ them and I’m the one stoppin’ them from eating the rose bushes.” Ace complains, setting down the bowls. 

“Or maybe they don’t want to be near mean ol’ Ace.” You tease back, when they don’t immediately swarm him back at the new bowls of food you change your tune. Maybe they do like only you. Like everyone seems so far.

“Maybe not, they all seem to love you” Deuce chuckles when the tiny critter snaps at Ace when he tries to get closer to you. “I can’t blame them.” That fond look is back in his eyes as he looks at you and it makes your stomach churn in discomfort. Time to nip that one in the bud and get him sidetracked.

“Well, they’re like Grim, they just like me because I’m petting them.” you reason. Speaking of your not-cat dire beast, he’s now fighting with the free hedgehogs to protect his latest snacks. “Besides, once you keep feeding them, you’ll be their favorite human.”

“Still, it’s like they’re all gathering around you. Are you sure you don't have any magic that makes them and all the flamingos like you?” Ace’s teasing is accompanied with him ruffling your hair until you playfully elbow him in the side. It’s true that the flamingos prefer you upon meeting you, why else would you have won so easily at croquet yesterday. Or did they let you win? Nah, who cares.

“If I did, I’d have them maul you. Get you both off my back for a few hours.” You joke, half-serious. While spending time with them is fun, you would like a break every once in a while. After having them live with you, the only reason you were here was because you’d rather have witnesses if you vanish. Good thing the garden’s full of Heartslabyul students, otherwise you would have just stayed back.

Even so, Ace and Deuce have been relatively normal this whole time. And it’s been nice to just relax with them without any sign of them being weird with you. Maybe all your worry was just you being in your head. Maybe they really didn’t-

Deuce gives you an amused laugh, before asking something while looking so genuinely curious, “Hey, I heard once that animals like darlings more. I think it might be true for you, _____?”

You can feel time stand still. 

As if your brain is a few seconds too slow, it doesn’t connect. Or maybe disbelief is keeping you from realizing it. Either way, you can only ask dumbly, “What did you say?” As if saying that would suck the words back in like they never existed, as if he’ll correct himself and it’ll just blow over as him misspeaking. 

But they were said, and you’d probably never forget it because Deuce starts to repeat himself, still smiling, “Oh, I said-” before he freezes in realisation. You can see Ace’s eyes widen as the words start to register in his head too. “Shit. wait- I didn’t mean t-”

“Damn it, Deuce…” You watch Ace facepalm, so Ace probably did believe it too. Did he not want you to know? Or did they both want to keep you in the dark? Or did they not really think to tell you?

Deuce starts to repeat himself only to hesitate, maybe because the shock and horror you’re feeling is visible on your face, and he puts two and two together. But when Deuce finally notices the drop in the atmosphere’s happy mood and what he said. And both your reactions to what he said. “What the hell did you mean to say then?!” You didn’t mean to yell at him, but with how loud your blood roars in your ears you can’t find it within yourself to control it. 

“I’m sorry I-” Deuce scrambles to apologize or think of an excuse for a moment that feels way too long. But nothing he says might bring you solace. Every fumbled word just proves that he believed you were a darling and planned on not saying anything about it to you. And you called him your friend. Deuce’s fumbling eventually progresses into silence, and he looks like a kicked puppy as he looks at whatever horrified expression you have on your face. “I’m sorry, A-Ace didn’t want me to tell you-”

“Way to throw me under the fucking bus, Juice!” As soon as Deuce’s accusatory words leave his mouth, Ace jumps in to defend himself.  “And I didn’t say that, I said–”

“Yes, you did! You said-” They descend into a shouting match of ‘yes, you did’ and ‘no, you didn’t’ as you sit there and try to gather your mess of  spiraling thoughts.

Despite your panic and the chill flooding your body, you take a deep breath to try and retain your composure. You need a clear head to deal with this. You can do this. It won’t go horribly wrong. You trying to stop an argument won’t end with someone over blotting like it did with Riddle. And yes, the fact you thought the overblot part up unprompted technically is a bad idea for your already high stress levels but focusing on that will only drive you even more crazy. 

“Myah? What the heck are you guys yellin’ about?” Grim shoos away the hedgehogs, who had sought solace in your lap, curling up comfortably in your lap. While Ace and Deuce are too busy yelling at each other to notice, the familiar, friendly presence on your lap brings you the slightest bit of peace. You pet him and he purrs, and you can feel yourself steady after a few breaths. 

“Something I’ve gotten sick of.” You say to Grim, before raising your voice loud enough to be heard over the duo's arguing. “Both of you, stop.”

 You don’t even yell, saying it as calmly as possible, and even over their arguing they hear you well enough. Honestly, you’re getting tired of this. If they’re going to argue about something utterly insane, whilst leaving you out of the loop about something you’d dreaded, then they’re going to hear about how much you don’t like it. So without further stalling…..

At some time while you were lost to your spiraling, Ace and Deuce had almost resorted to blows as Deuce had Ace by his collar with his fist a good six inches away from Ace’s nose. You sigh, now more exhausted than stressed. “Deuce, drop him.” Deuce immediately does. Good to know that they’ll listen to you. “Good. No more fighting.”

They both murmur out apologies, taking a seat on the ground next to you, looking uncomfortably guilty. You ignore it, hugging Grim closer before taking a deep breath. “Alright.  Now I need you both to just listen to me, why do you both think I’m a darling?

Ace brushes his clothes free of imaginary dust, before finally filling you in. “Well, Riddle kinda yelled it out for the dorm to hear.”

You sigh in exasperation, “Yes he did….” It might've seemed like a stupid question, but they were under no obligation to believe him, especially since he was on the verge of a mental breakdown while he said that . “But why did you believe him? He said a lot of things.

“Yeah well, when you and Riddle were both passed out, Crowley got back and panicked a little because he thought you were dead. And he sorta blurted you being a darling out for everyone to hear.”

“......He what?” You say deadpan at Ace’s explanation. 

“Prefect… I asked him about what he was panicking about and he said something about you being a darling meant that if you died that he was going to be in serious trouble.” Deuce’s continuation of what the hell happened when you were unconscious makes some things clear. Like the fact you needed to punch Crowley in the teeth for one.

“Damn it, Crowley…..” Crowley proves to be absolutely useless in every regard including secret keeping. “And you both believed him.”

“Actually, I did first.” Ace being the first to think that doesn’t surprise you. With how suspicious he was of you, him not believing it wouldn’t make any sense. 

You turn to look Deuce in the eye and ask him, “And you, Deuce?” 

Deuce avoids your gaze out of what might be guilt. Maybe he felt bad for telling Ace the first time behind your back. “I actually didn’t, but hearing Ace talk about it later convinced me.”

So inevitably both of them would have found out, maybe there was no way you could have avoided this anyway. Either way, after Riddle  you had no choice on whether or not this would be  revealed to everyone. “Ok, well….now I have a question. And I want the truth as an answer.”

“Uh..Sure, ______.” They seem to dread whatever is going to leave your mouth.”

“Why have you been treating me like this because ‘I’m a darling’?!” You can feel tears prick your eyes as you finally say what’s been bothering you for so long. You might not be able to comprehend why this world even romanticizes what it does, but you aren’t undergoing any more stress because of this nightmare. “I don’t understand why you’re treating me differently because of this.”

Ace  jumps in to deny it, “We’re not-”

But you cut him off, you’re not going through this a moment longer. “Yes, you are because no matter even before that you’ve both been acting! Talking behind my back, fighting each other over stuff like this and trying to keep secrets like this from me.” You keep going on and on as you finally get a mountain of stress off your chest. “I don’t care about why you all think that this is even borderline okay, and I really shouldn’t have to because I’m, and I can’t repeat this enough, NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE!!” You end up shouting the last thing, but your point is, hopefully, clear.

“Prefect-”

“NO! I’m not done, so be quiet!” You yell as you quickly silence Deuce before continuing your verbal rampage. “I’m not even supposed to be here lost in a world that seems to lack pity, empathy and selflessness because it’s completely fine with dooming half the population to being held captive by someone who is ridiculously obsessed with them to the point consent goes out the window!!” 

“____-”

“I SAID BE QUIET!! You don’t seem to understand how terrifying this is! Even if I was born here, I still would be as terrified and angry as I am now! And you can’t recognize how completely and utterly terrifying this is because you don’t have to experience it!” You pause to take a deep breath, and then your anger dissolves into sadness. 

“_____?” You don’t yell at Ace this time. As you feel your heart swell with self-pity, and the tears in your eyes fall down your cheeks. 

“This world is just so different from what I'm used to. And the fact that I’m someone that’s frequently a victim here, it’s been stressing me out.” You confess, wiping the tears running down your cheeks,  “And because you two are always acting strange around me, I keep thinking that you’re going to hurt me.”

As soon as the idea that you would even consider them hurting you, they immediately deny it.

“I wouldn’t do that!”

“Prefect, I would never hurt you-”

Grim takes that moment to speak up, “Myah! Both of ya need to stop lyin’ about hurtin’  and scarin’ my henchman! She’s been cryin’ and panickin’ all week because of you guys!!”

You sniff, squeezing Grim tighter to you to seek some form of comfort. Your familiar/boss nuzzles up against you in response, to comfort you, which you gratefully accept, trying to calm the rhythm of your fast beating heart. You’re a little surprised that Grim is jumping to your defense. But he’s seen you go through the motions over the past few days. Maybe it’s been affecting him too.

“Prefect- ______ I’m really sorry.”

“Yeah, fuck me- I don’t want to see you so afraid again.” They’re actually apologizing. Were you talking to them about it all you needed to do? 

But if they’re willing to make sure that you’re not afraid of them, well that’s an opportunity that you shouldn't look past. Because to be honest, you don’t want to leave this garden with an ended friendship. “Look, I know that this is as strange to you as this is to me. But…. I just want you to be normal with me. Like you were with when we came back from the Dwarf's Mine. I don’t hate you, I actually want to be your friends.”

The two of them seem genuinely surprised that you feel that way. “Y-You do?!” You hear them say simultaneously.

You nod, wiping away the lingering tears from your eyes. “Yeah. I’m a little surprised I still do.” Which is the truth, but being alone is something you don’t want. “But I still like you guys as friends, as long as you don’t treat me differently or try to do anything bad against me….. then we’re all good.” You smile as you finish that, trying to make them feel as smidge better about this mess. You don’t hate them, you can’t find it in yourself to. 

They say nothing for a while, before Ace lets out an exasperated sigh, “If that’s what you want, then I’ll do it.”

“Really?” You say in complete disbelief.

“Yeah, I wanna still be around you. If you don’t want me to act like that, I won’t if it makes you happy.” That was all it took?! Just asking them to stop being creepy around you and it worked?! There had to be a trick, or lie, Because there’s no way Deuce will-

“Me too. If you don’t want me to ______, I’ll try to stop acting like that.” Okay. You’re a little surprised that that worked. At least a little bit. Because even if they struggle a little bit. You might be gone when they can’t hold themselves back anymore. 

“And you’re both serious?”

A “Yep.” from Ace and an “Absolutely.” from Deuce, are your replies. And you can feel a shred of relief flowing through you and spreading to every inch of your body.

“Great.” You can feel a smile forcing its way onto your face. You’re at least happy that they’re willing to try for your sake. “Great…. Thanks guys. But one more thing….” 

You can see a wave of worry form on each of their faces as you add that part on. “What is it?!”

“I’ll make this clear. If either of you try to kidnap me or something, I’ll give you both hell got it?” You force yourself to stop smiling at that, just make sure that your threat is evident. 

“Is that a threat?” Despite the actual threat, the look Ace gives you reminds you of the playfulness he showed you when he first met you. He knows you’re serious and he’s taking your words to heart, by treating you like he used to. 

“I think it’s better to call it a promise.” You say, completely serious but matching his playful energy. 

Deuce’s expression relaxes to one of determination. “Then Prefect, we’ll make sure we won’t forget it.”

“Yeah! Because if you ever try to hurt my henchman, I’ll cook ya!!” Grim, to prove his point, shoots out a flame that nearly burns the hay of the hedgehog enclosure. 

After the flames are stomped out. you can finally relax for the first time in about a week. With the fear that you’d braved alone for a few days taken off your shoulders, you don’t feel as stressed as you’d been coming into this garden today. 

“So we’re all good?” Ace says, hopeful to be past this nearly as much as you do. 

You take a deep breath, finally relieved. “Yeah.” To be honest, you feel refreshed. You’re glad this conversation is out of the way. “I think we’re all good.” You smile as you say that, and their moods perk up. You’re happy and they’re happy. You’re glad to actually be friends with them without fear for once. Things can maybe be normal again.

Score one for healthy communication. Take that, yandere-ness.

You’re feeling much happier and relieved now that you’ve gotten that off your chest. And you’re just glad that it worked out without anything too horrific happening. And it’s a great feeling….

….for all of ten more seconds.

As soon as you start basking in the relief of having gotten that out of your system, you feel a pair of arms wrapping over your shoulder, and a familiar, upbeat voice that instead of bringing you continued relief and boosting your mood, sends your blood pressure through the roof.  “Hey, hey underclassmen!”

Well, there goes your relief. 

“C-Cater, what are you doing here?!” You turn, finding your face all too close to Cater’s. With your noses almost touching with how close they are. You try to pull away but from the way Cater’s holding you, you can’t scoot away from his grasp. 

Cater pouts at your reaction, “Aww, I tht my favorite underclassmen would be excited to see me, #Ouch,” before smiling at you and granting you your explanation, “Lmao my bad if I scared you, I just pulled up to see what the drama was.” Drama? Wait, had he heard you?

“W-What drama?”  Wait, had he heard you. Had the entire garden- No rather, had the whole dorm heard you. “Did you hear all that?”

“Uh huh, You were basically screaming your hot take into the void.” Well, that's both stressful and embarrassing. You might have yelled to the whole garden about you being a darling, and Cater, who probably had the same suspicions or already heard it. Damn it, you basically just announced it to him. 

Even besides that, you’re still reminded that Ace and Deuce weren’t the only ones that had joined your ‘Be cautious of’ list. Cater had figured it out without anyone telling him. How that happened is still a mystery, because Riddle and Trey have a justifiable reason, Ace and Deuce needed to be told to believe it, and Cater had known before you even officially met Riddle and Trey. 

A pressure on your back appears and suddenly yanks you away, pulling you completely out of Cater’s grasp. You’re pulled out of the hold and back into reality to find Ace's hand fisted in your shirt and both his and Deuce’s faces twisted in distaste. Now, you feel like an idiot, because while you were so stressed out about Cater hearing all that, you forgot about what your surrounding audience was seeing. You were so close to Cater, to the point where you probably looked so intimate with someone after you just went on a rant about why you hate the yandere stuff, in front of two of the yanderes who just promised to stop doing that. Like dangling a bloody, giant steak in front of two dogs and telling them not to take a bite out of it. Yay….

“You can let me go Ace..” you urge, and after a few seconds of tension that makes your already high blood pressure spike he lets you go. Of all things that to happen right after you basically yelled at them to get them to stop being so unnervingly creepy about you, “You both need to calm down,” you try to placate them, to stop them from beating the shit out of Cater for invading your personal space. 

“But-” You silence Deuce with glare dead in his eye until his upset expression falters. 

“This- It’s fine, I actually needed to talk to Cater anyway.” You don’t want them to keep going on about this when you already have your own mystery to solve. You can’t ignore the possible threat to your safety in Cater figuring it out all too soon, if any one outside of this dorm you got exposed in figured it out that could end horribly. 

Unfortunately, your thinly-veiled plan to pry doesn't go over as you expected, or maybe it did go as you expected, because it went over badly…

“Wait, you do?” Cater looks genuinely surprised about the fact you’re happy to see him. Though happiness is an exaggeration, you’re more concerned than happy to see him. 

“You do?” Ace, Deuce and Grim parrot his words in confusion, mostly because you had promised to hang out with them. 

You suddenly feel astruck with nervousness, but backing down would be a bad thing considering what you need to know, “Yeah, I wanna talk to you about something that’s been on my mind for a while, that okay?”

“Def, should I expect a confession?” You flush at his forwardness, but you can see Ace and Deuce’s faces visibly tighten in distaste at the insinuation. Maybe you were a tad too optimistic, you can’t expect to 180 over one conversation. If you are their ‘darling’, then you might have to keep them from being jealous. It’s already an ugly thing and in this world, that might just be your downfall. 

So play it like you’re uninterested. A bit late because you’re pretty sure you blushed at the flirt. And you might be terrible at this since you’d never really had to do this before. Regardless, you cement your face into a deadpan and answer “No, Cater. I just need to talk to you.”

Cater doesn’t stop smiling, but you hate that weird look in his eyes that seems to shift as he speaks, “Aw, too bad. Let’s go then-”

“She’s not going with you,” Ace suddenly objects. His hand wraps tightly around your forearm to stop you from standing. His eyes have that dark glint again, one that makes you think of the throes of jealousy blinding someone’s judgement. 

“What are you on about? She just said-”

“The prefect’s sending the day with us, she’s not going to go with you.” Deuce objects. His face is tight again with that expression that makes you stress peak.  You realise that you may have been a bit too confident in your earlier conversation working. You should have at least expected that it would take a while for what you wanted to set in. 

Cater’s expression darkens faster as the longer they try to stop you from speaking with him,“Aw, C’mon Acey, Deucey, I won’t put a hand on her.” 

You don’t really want to deal with this after just venting like you did. “Guys, we just talked about this. And you have your chores to do, I’ll meet up with you later. I promise.” You might come to regret that decision, but you do need them off you back just for a little while. “Remember what we talked about, I need to have space sometimes.” You don’t want them to break it so soon. You like being friends, and just friends, with them. And if they were to break their promise to you so fast you might have to stay away from them. And then that will just suck for everyone. “And you both promised me.”

“Yeah but..” Ace bites his tongue to stop himself from saying something, you feel he’ll regret. Because even if he argues against it, one way or another, you’re talking alone with Cater. No matter what he or Deuce says. Maybe that feeling is present on your face, because Ace gives into you, “Fine.”

“But-” Deuce tries to object too but after a few more seconds, of which you give him that same look again, he gives in too. “Nevermind.” 

“Good. We’ll talk again later.” Even if this was a stumble in your hopes to have boundaries, you hoped that you’d be able to have them be a little normal around you. This really ran a  lot deeper than you originally thought. “ C-c’mon Cater.” Ace and Deuce both look like they are fighting themselves to stop you from leaving but they don’t stop you. And you stand and leave Ace and Deuce behind, heading back into the twists and turns of the rose maze, all the while pulling Cater by his arm.

Where the two of you, plus Grim, are alone. 

You can’t help but feel a little upset. You knew that the path to change would be a bumpy road full of mistakes but you hadn’t expected Ace and Deuce to act like that so soon after you spoke with them. You rake your fingers through Grim’s soft fur. And while he silently grumbles in your arms, the purrs he makes put you at peace. You could do this now to deal with Cater. 

“You good?” Cater pulls you out of your stupor,  “They kinda killed the vibe.”

“Yeah, sort of.” After that, you don’t want to beat around the bush. Might as well rip off the bandage clean. “Cater, I wanted to talk to you about...um, how did you know I was a ‘darling’? I just learned I was one the day before. So how did-”

“Ohhh, so that’s what had you all pressed and stressed, huh?” Cater flashes you a playful smile, unbothered by the question that had distressed you earlier. “ To be fr, I didn’t.”

Wait, what? “But I thought- You called me a darling the day you met me, I thought that… that you figured me out.”  How had he not, was that just you confusing what he said? Because he was pretty clear with how he said it. You remember him saying, ‘darling’ word for word. Wasn’t that what the whale world called the victims of this obsessive love?

“Yeah, ngl, I was just lowkey flirting with you, but I didn't think you'd freak out like that over one of my alts.” So that was just… harmless flirting? You nearly had a panic attack because of some playful flirting by an upperclassman? “No offense, but it’s not everyday when a cute girl falls into an all-boys school. Might as well shoot my shot before you’re snatched up.” 

“Oh…My bad.” you say lamely, feeling a little embarrassed. So this was just a misunderstanding, and you blew it way out of proportion. That’s a relief. One hell of one. You can’t help but feel a little silly in retrospect. Despite this world’s flawed view of romance, there should exist even a possibility that some normal aspects of it still exist here. Like flirting. You might need to adjust your worldview.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, did I freak you out like Acey and Deucey did?” So he caught onto that, huh?

“You really heard all that didn’t you? Was it all that obvious?” If it was, that would be in your best interest. It could help if someone noticed that either one of them are on the verge of going off their rocker, it probably could save you in a pinch. 

“Painfully. SRSly, I could not live the way you do.” He literally shudders, whether it's dramatic or genuine it strikes you as a bit odd. “ Ugh, literally can’t even. The struggle is so real." While he is right, he doesn’t really know what it feels like. To be honest, you barely know what it feels like. So why would he know how painfully hard it is when he lives on the other end?

“No offense, but how do you know about that?” You ask, genuinely curious. Given your now clear history of jumping to conclusions, maybe it’s best you stop and hear him out first. Maybe he had a good explanation. 

“Oh, blame my sisters for that.” Cater looks genuinely displeased at being reminded of that detail. Were his sisters yanderes like him?

“Your sisters?” 

Cater sighs, and his face scrunches up in what has to be genuine annoyance, “TL;DR my sisters have been manifesting a darling brother like their lives depended on it.” The explanation makes sense to you, and it sheds some insight to his understanding of your situation. Though the idea of your family being obsessed with you makes your stomach churn in disgust. It seemed like no relationship was off-limits when it came to this crazy and creepy love. 

“Oh… I’m-”

“No need to say sorry, I'm lowkey desensitized at this point.” Cater smiles saying that as if it wasn’t something that clearly bothered him. Still, he brushes it off like it was nothing, “Anyways, that’s it or??”

A part of you wanted to pry further, but decide against it. You wouldn’t want anyone here prying into your past regardless of this world’s creepy values. Maybe you could try to learn more about darling’s here. Getting a feel for what darlings go through might be in your best interest to do. But you don;t want to bother Cater further. “Yeah, I think that’s it.”

Happy to be done with all this heavy stuff, Cater smiles that playful smile again. “Okay, now that’s finally done, can we like actually take some pics together? I don’t even have a single one of you smiling on Magicam.” Maybe this was a bad decision, maybe, but you actually accept. What’s the harm in a little fun?

You come to regret that decision promptly thirty minutes later. When you agreed, you thought Cater would have taken maybe ten or fifteen shots, taking no more than five to ten minutes. That was 74 pictures ago, including restakes for blinking and blurry pics. Now you’re tired of all this and wanting to move on to whatever else you wanted to do today. But Cater wouldn’t exactly listen to you. 

“Cater… are we done now?” You were getting tired of so many pictures. Your cheeks hurt from smiling, your retinas had flashes singed into them and you weren’t exactly feeling like a shutterbug anymore. You try to push yourself away from Cater’s grip on your waist, only to draw you back for yet another. 

“C’mon, one more pleaseee!!!” Cater says for what has to be the umpteenth time. You sigh in a mix of annoyance and exhaustion. 

“No. I have stuff to do-”

“Why tho? Why don’t you wanna stay with me?" Cater pouts, but that nagging voice is back and telling you to quit this, might as well listen this time.

“No, I-I just have to….” Maybe you shouldn’t have agreed to this, what’s a reasonable excuse that doesn’t inspire jealousy? 

Thank the seven for what happens next “Myah, Henchman, I’m hungry!!!” Grim’s whiny complaints are much appreciated at this moment. Because it gives you an out, as you’re reminded of what you’d promised Grim earlier

“I, uh, promised Grim that I’d see Trey for free food.” You really hope that works. You’re in for a long day if it doesn’t. Thankfully though, Cater releases his hold on you, allowing you to hurriedly scoop up Grim prepared to make your great escape. Before you turn to leave, you stop to say good-bye, “I’ll, uh, see you later?” 

Cater’s expression is both unreadable and unnerving initially, before turning back to his upbeat smiles, “Yeah, _____ TTYL!” As soon as he says his good-bye you wave back, before speeding back into the rose maze, right then not caring for where you’re going. Getting away feels a lot better than how you felt a minute ago. 

“Myah…” Grim grumbles in your hold, “Are we gonna eat now?!” 

“Alright, alright, let’s go see Trey…” You finally give in to get Grim’s payment for his time. You do owe him one for the reasonable excuse.

As you walk back through the maze, you question what really makes someone someone else's darling. Cater had flirted with you upon first meeting you, and that could be some harmless fun given your situation, but what if it was something deeper? Could what he brushed off as harmless flirting, but could it be a sign of him starting to fall for you? 

Sure, Cater had you living in slight fear for what that meant. What exactly caused someone to become someone else’s darling? Because if Cater was one for you, didn’t that mean you had three to worry about? You had been confused about how Ace and Deuce even fell for you in the first place, so maybe that had to do with why they seemed to get so quick to invade boundaries.   You can consider the fact you’re a tad bit too hopeful, because if this thing was ingrained into their entire being that was reason to be concerned.

Maybe you were half-right earlier, maybe they are just half-normal. 

A Golden Afternoon.

You know your plan to venture back through the maze to go ask Trey if he could spare some desserts for Grim…? Well, that would be the plan if you could remember how to find your way back. Out of all your decisions, maybe it wasn’t the best choice to go back alone in a maze when you barely knew how to get back through it even before you came here today. 

“Henchman..” Grim’s whining had continued for the last five minutes, as you kept turning the seemingly endless paths of the rose maze trying the way back to the stupid dorm building. 

“Yes. I know it’s my fault we’re lost, Grim…” You repeat, for what has to be the umpteenth time. Your decision to go it alone might not have been the best one in hindsight, right now dealing with Grim’s whining you didn’t really care that much. 

Something soft and furry tickles your ankle and makes you jolt, adding onto the once-reduced pile of stress you have. You’re the only one on this path and at the same time, it’s a giant rose garden full of wildlife. A rabbit could have run by for all you knew.

“Henchmannnnnn!” Grim’s whining reaches a crescendo, and you can’t help but sigh in exasperation. 

You take your eyes off the twisting and turning path of the maze inn front of you to scold Grim, “You just ate your  weight in grass and hedgehog food, how can you possible be-”

“Um… Am I interrupting anything?” You and Grim look up to find Riddle, with his face scrunched up in a rather awkward expression. 

You’re just a little surprised and embarrassed since you hadn’t heard him coming earlier, “N-Not exactly, just telling Grim he has to be patient… What are you doing here?”

“I know that 

“Henchman, no!” Grims whines once more, “We’re supposedta go get food from Trey!”

You sigh once more, you can feel your social battery running low but you bite back those thoughts, “Look, I know you must be busy but do you mind guiding me out? I’m sort of lost…”

“Well, if you wouldn’t mind my company-” You cut him off, glad to find your way out of this stupid maze and feed Grim as fast as possible. 

“Great.” You hook an arm around Riddle’s to which the aforementioned dorm leader jolts in surprise for a brief moment. “Lead the way.” 

Riddle’s as stiff as a board of wood as you take his arm, and for a few minutes, with the exception of Grim’s whining, the three of you walk through the maze. As you walk, Riddle’s face tells you that there’s something that bothers him, his face a subtle red in comparison to the raging red he wore a few days ago. That and the hold that he has on your arm, so tight that you can feel it bruising. Clearly, something’s bothering him. 

Well, let’s get this over with. You tune out Grim’s food/hunger based whining and ask, “You have something on your mind, don’t you?”

Riddle’s full body stiffness falters at the sound of your voice, “W…Was it that obvious?”

“Unfortunately,” But you can’t blame him for that, he nearly died a few days ago and had to have an emotional collapse thanks to his mom’s issues making his life that much more difficult. You’re not a therapist, but venting about your problems made your day a little better, it might do the same for you. “You can tell me. I won’t judge.”

Riddle battles his internal conflict for a minute longer before taking a deep breath, and making eye contact with you, “Do you hate me?”

The question is so blunt that it makes you feel incredibly awkward now. “W-What do you mean?”

“I know we discussed this yesterday, but I can’t help but feel as though I haven’t made amends with you fully. And, speaking of, I owe you another  apology. Trey informed me of your duress at my words a few days ago. My angry raving revealed something you want to keep quiet-”

You interrupt him, tired of dealing with that mess. Better nip the bud before it blooms, “I don't hate you, Riddle. The only reason I said that you weren’t entirely forgiven yet was because I wanted to see you become a better person before I forgave you fully…” You can see Riddle visibly sag in relief as you confirm his idea of your presumed hatred was all in his head. Though since the topic changed to him wanting to owe you another apology might as well learn why he wanted to do so, you are at least a little more curious about why he wanted to apologize than you were interested in getting an apology. “You don’t have to apologize, nothing you could say or do could undo that. But why were you so angry with me? I wasn’t the only one calling you out.”

Riddle visibly hesitates“I’m sorry, I-I shouldn’t have said what I did but it’s just… Mother taught me that darlings like you needed a….”  You can see him visibly hesitate on whatever he planned to say next, “a firm hand to prevent them from stepping out of line.”

“The way you said that tells me you don’t agree, don’t you?” You know that he’s at least questioning what of his mother’s inane rules were right and wrong, but for him to doubt one of them so greatly he looks somewhat sick at the thought of it, “Look, I’m already pretty  sure that she was wrong about it but the fact that you don’t already is a little surprising, so why don’t you agree?”

“It’s a long story… I’ve only considered my mother’s rules wrong twice. The second time was the last time, after what happened with my father.” Once again, Riddle’s face seems to fall as grim as Grim’s name, so you decide not to pry this time. Unlike with Deuce, you anticipate something darker than you’d like to deal with today. 

“Well, I’m glad that you don’t agree. Your future darling will appreciate it.” Riddle freezes in his steps, and your heart rate suddenly skyrockets, “S-Something wrong?” You  notice a soft flush on his cheeks, a pale pink in comparison to the raging red you were used to when he was angry. You hate that you realise that he’s flustered. This day was just a rollercoaster of highs and lows, wasn’t it. 

“N-Nothing,” he wisely brushes it off and instead shifts the conversation to something else. “B-But, I’ve been meaning to ask you. Do…. Do you remember seeing anything strange while I was unconscious?” Ok, now you wish it was a different something else.

“Uh… What do you mean by that??” You tactfully dodge the subject because you don’t know how to respond to that yet. If anything, you wanted more than anything to avoid it, being sucked into his head to witness his trauma felt a little like you were invading his privacy. “I was kind of knocked out, so all I was seeing was a load of black.” You say nervously, hoping that convinces him.

“Well, this may sound odd, but I remember seeing you.” The slight flush turns from pink to a soft red, “You were telling me to not give up and die there, that you would-” He pauses for a reason unknown to you, before continuing, “sorry, that we could be friends when we got out. I didn’t want to bring it up with you yesterday but I was under the impression that you don’t have any magical capabilities, so how in the Twisted Wonderland did you appear there?”

“I really don’t have a clue. Whatever happened I don’t even know what caused it.” You explain equally confused, 

“No matter how strange that is, it did help save your life. No complaining about that.” You find it confusing, but you’ll probably never find out why. Overblots being rare here meant that the likelihood of this happening again was slim to none. You’re just glad no one died, the idea of facing death in the world is a scary one. “I didn’t mean to see what I saw, but it did help me understand you a little more, Riddle. I can’t judge you for how you turned out with how psycho your mom was. As long as you don’t act that way again, then I don’t really have any problems with you.”

Maybe what you’re saying would be a mistake in hindsight, but honestly it was partially the truth. Riddle had no way of taking back what he said, and you just wanted to not deal with any more dorm drama along with your own. So forgiveness is earned.

“Y-You don’t?”

“Were you expecting me to demand you spend the rest of your life making it up to me?” You joke. You’re not cruel, and being angry at the past would just make you constantly angry and mean, so you’ll put aside any grievances. “I’m not. I just want to put all this behind us.”

Riddle looks a little shocked that you would even say that, before his cheeks flush, “Well…  if you have no problem with it… Would you be adverse to..” A blush on Riddle’s face deepens, “....being friends with me?”

Your judgement wasn’t the best so far, but that had been your end goal when you arrived here. Though you can’t be sure of whether or not this blush on his face means something more than you think, it probably won't be bad being friends with him with his new ideology on rules. Besides you were being open minded today, what bad could come out of you letting him be friends with you. 

And, what the hell, you could afford to be a little nice. You smile at him, “Sure, as long as you don’t cause me any more headache.” You add onto the end, jokingly. “Speaking of heads…” Entering the dorm to find the students looking a lot brighter in spirits than they had been the last few days of Riddle tyranny is more soothing than you originally thought it would be. Riddle couldn’t make a lot of change in his behavior over the past few days, but it was enough that the bustling students didn’t look like the stiff soldier you met them all to be back at the first failed unbirthday party. 

To you it was a welcome sign that things could change for the better and that Riddle could change for the better. You give a tender squeeze of Riddle’s arm, “I’m happy you’re not causing them to roll at the slightest rule violation, and because of that, I think that I could actually be friends with the calmer version of you.” 

It’s not entirely the truth, but it’s not entirely a lie. It was your original goal, but you’re too tired to deal with the perils of friendship at the moment. 

Regardless, Riddle’s face lights up, and the ‘awkward blush’ on his face is joined by a bright, and very welcomed, smile. “Thank you, _____,” you hear him whisper under his breath. 

Once the doors of the dorm’s kitchens come into view, “Finally! C’mon, Henchman!” Grim leaps out of your arms and escapes into the kitchen doors finally ready to reap the rewards of his impatience. 

You roll your eyes, turning back to Riddle lightly patting the fading bruise on his cheek before smiling, “Well, thanks for helping me out, I’ll see you later?”

The soft flush returns once more, and he smiles, “Yes, yes, I will.” 

You slip into the kitchen with a smile on your face, Even with the added stress of this world, maybe it won’t be as bad? Who knows if you ever get past all the stress and mania you’ll be able to feel a little normal here. Maybe.

A Caterpillar's Daze.

You’d like to grow familiar with the comforting smell of the Heartslabyul kitchen. According to some of the other students, if there was one room Trey probably spent most of his time in it was this one. And the smell of warm sugar soothes whatever other nerves you had. And well, the baker’s calm nature really helps too.

“Hey, Trey!” The bespeckled baker smiles at you as soon as he sees you. He’s missing his jacket, but by the amount of flour that’s on his hands and the countertops full of baking equipment and freshly decorated pastries, the culprit is obvious.

“Ah, _______. I wasn’t expecting you today. Though I guess I should have when Grim popped up.” Trey looks pleasantly surprised by your arrival, and  entertained by the wiggling cat beast in his grip, still desperately trying to eat the array of food Trey’s working on. “You look better.”

“Yeah, I’ve sleeping bett-”

“Myah, Trey do ya got any tarts!” Grim interrupts your small talk to demand his right to eat the countertops full of food, which he would be devouring if Trey wasn’t holding him by the scruff of his neck. “C-C’mon, I’m hungry!”

You sigh awkwardly, before wrangling Grim back into your grip, “Sorry, but as Grim very rudely asked, could you please spare some of your desserts?” You spare a glance at all the work he’d been busy with on the countertops. “If you want, I could help you out in exchange?”

“Well, since you asked me so nicely.” Trey smiles at you in a way that makes you feel content. “You’re in luck, I have plenty. Go-” In response to Trey’s barely finished sentence, Grim promptly dives out of your arms onto the tray and stuffs his face. “-ahead. Nevermind then.”

“Finally!” Grim stuffs his face full like a starving, well, animal. You chuckle fondly, 

You’d like to grow familiar with the comforting smell of the Heartslabyul kitchen. According to some of the other students, if there was one room Trey probably spent most of his time in it was this one. And the smell of warm sugar soothes whatever other nerves you have. And well, the baker’s calm nature really helps too.

“Hey, Trey!” The bespeckled baker smiles at you as soon as he sees you. He’s missing his jacket, but by the amount of flour that’s on his hands and the countertops full of baking equipment and freshly decorated pastries, the culprit is obvious.

“Myah!” Grim, meanwhile, is too busy demanding his right to eat the countertops full of food, which he would be devouring if Trey wasn’t holding him by the scruff of his neck. “C-C’mon, I’m hungry!”

“Ah, _______. I wasn’t expecting you today. Though I guess I should have when Grim popped up.” Trey looks pleasantly surprised by your arrival, and  entertained by the wiggling cat beast in his grip, still desperately trying to eat the array of food Trey’s working on. “You look better.”

“Yeah, I’ve been sleeping better. Came by because Grim is always hungry and as his henchman I have to satisfy his cravings.” You explain, scanning the plethora of finished and half-finished pastries and desserts on the counter tops. “You wouldn’t happen to have any spare treats, would you?” 

Trey smiles at you in a way that makes you feel content. “Well, you’re in luck, I have plenty.” He drops Grim on what has to be a plateful of cream puffs and Grim immediately goes rabid on the stack. “You both can help yourself if you don’t mind keeping me company.”

Well, it could be worse, “Sure, why the hell- Mhm!” The tartlet is in your mouth before you get the opportunity to think of accepting it. Either way, to you at least, what harm will a little tart do? “Why are you so amazing at baking Trey…” You praise, nibbling the offered bite of warm pastry, and humming happily as the comforting taste crosses your tongue. “Why are you even making all this stuff anyway? All this can’t be for the dorm.”

“I’m glad you like it. And you’d be right, these are for another dorm mate's birthday.” 

“Well, in that case, I can’t wait to see what you’d make me for my birthday,” You joke, nudging him with your elbow in the side playfully. You take another bite of the tartlet, not feeling that strange lethargic pull you had last time. “What I’d give to eat like this everyday…”

Trey hums a laugh at your compliments. “You flatter me, _______.”

You hum a laugh, “I’m not lying, it's delicious. Could you come over and make breakfast for me every morning, I’d be thankful for the rest of my life.” Your question is rhetorical but you still would appreciate it. It'd be nice to have something good come out of this. “Why are you making all this? It can’t just be for me.” You tease. 

Trey humors your teasing before answering your question.“Unfortunately, it’s not. Another dorm member’s birthday is coming up this week, so I'm tasked with preparing for the party.”

“Well, then I’d like to see what you’d do for my birthday.” You smile, before taking another bite out of the sweets. Despite the sweetness a bitterness worms its way into your skull and a question plagues your mind. You might as well ask, “Hey, this may be a confusing question… but what exactly is it like to have a darling?”

Trey hesitates for a brief second before continuing what he was doing. “That’s kind of a loaded question.”

“Well, I’m prepared for a loaded response.” You reply with a laugh, “ But honestly, I don’t really get the whole mystique. You guys seem so normal, so why do you feel like you need to do this? Can’t you just find love the normal way?”

You can hear Trey sigh, turning back towards you and wiping the flour from his hands, despite the trepidation on his face, he still gives you an awkward smile before saying. “It’s a lot more complicated than you think.”

“How so?” Your understanding was pretty poor of this whole situation, a little clearing up is much appreciated. 

“It’s hard to explain to someone that doesn’t understand it, but…” Trey mulls over his words carefully until he finds the right ones. “Imagine feeling like you have a missing part of yourself your whole life. And that missing piece is something that stops the world from feeling dark and gray, as if it makes the whole world feel alive. From the moment you’re born, you’re born with that missing piece carved into your heart and no matter what you do in your life you can’t do anything to fill it.” So it’s like being born with depression, which honestly sounds awful. 

“It’s easier to handle when you’re a kid. You don’t notice it as much, but it gets worse and worse as you grow older. It’s as if the hole gets bigger and bigger as you age, and it makes your life harder and more painful to live. The worst part, it never goes away. Not until-”

“Until you met your darling.” You finish putting two and two together. So whatever causes the yanking  “But why do you even feel that way?” That’s the thing that I don’t get. Maybe because I’m from a different world or something, but I don’t get why people are so…. strange? odd? when it comes to love.”

“This might not be the answer you expected, but no one really knows why we feel this way. All we know is that no matter what we do, no matter how hard we try, nothing but our darlings can feel the hole in us.” That’s a disappointing answer, but what can you do about it? Some things about this world you might never understand, so maybe you’ll figure it out on your own. Or maybe not at all, sometimes remaining ignorant is better. 

“Thanks anyways.” You can’t deny that it was a little useful in understanding your situation. If someone is born with a hole that can only be filled by another, then you have no way of comprehending what it’s like to be like them, feeling an emptiness that can’t be filled for years upon years. It must be awful living like that, but that’s still not an excuse. No one should be forced to suffer to make someone else  feel happy, because it’s not just unfair to the unfortunate victim to have their lives upended but it’s equally unfair to force them to be the thing that grants them joy. But it’s not like you can do anything about this right now, your survival is your first priority. So that’s why you speak without thinking,  “Another question, do you… have you met your darling, Trey?”

“Hm? Well, it’s hard to explain but,” Trey ruffles your hair affectionately with his flourless hand, “Yes, I think that I already have.” Well, that’s comforting. If Trey has his darling already that gets rid of your preliminary unease. It’s nice to finally feel relief. 

“Well, I hope you treat them right. If they eat like this, they’ll be lucky to have you.” You praise, pausing only to wipe a smudge of flour off his cheek. “I know that I would.”

Trey’s eyes widen a smidgen, a brightness visible in them even from behind his glasses, “I’ll keep that in mind,_______. Here.” He hands you another one of his 

“Can I?” When he gives you an affectionate nod in response, you accept the offered spoonful, humming from the sweetness on your tongue. “It’s delicious…”

“I’m glad you like it.” 

You shove his shoulder, “Seriously, why are you so good at baking. Sometimes I wish I could stay here and eat like this forever..” You whisper, feeling the comforting feeling of peace finally filling you after some turbulent days. Sure, you don’t mean it, but it would be nice to-

“Then you should, ________. I can always make an exception to allow you to stay the night.” You hadn’t expected Trey to hear you, but now you feel a little discomfort wedge itself in your peaceful feeling. 

Still though, you don’t want to ruin your good feeling. “Nah, I’ll think I'll be fine. Thanks for all these though, it’ll help keep Grim off my back for a while.” You scoop up Grim off  his now empty tray of desserts. A hasty but polite good-bye and exit wouldn’t be the best way to end the day, but as you turn to leave you call it the second best way to exit this increasingly awkward conversation

Trey stops you with a tight grasp on your arm, your heart skips an uncomfortable beat, “I’m serious, ______. You should stay. ” That tense and dark look is back in a way that makes you feel so much smaller. If it hadn’t been for Trey confirming that he had a darling already you probably would have dropped the boxes he’d given you. Is everyone going to flip-flop between normal and strange today? Maybe it’s just you being on edge but this feels a little odd. 

“That would be nice, but I think I’m going to call it an early night tonight. I’ll try to stop by tomorrow?” You refuse, trying to tug your arm free.

Probably sensing your rising unease, Trey releases your arm replacing that discomforting look with that gentle big brother smile. “Well, nevermind then.” He ruffles your hair affectionately, sparing you one last glance at that comforting smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, _____. Rest well.”

You balance the boxes of warm pastry in your arms, feeling the comforting warmth throw the cardboard. “I will th- Grim stop it!”  You redirect your attention away from Trey back to chaos bringing Feline that’s no longer attacking the stacks of warm uneaten food in your arms. 

“Myah! C’mon, Henchman! Gimme!” Despite Grim’s snacking, his stomach always remains full. You roll your eyes as you let out your peals of laughter, glad to deal with this rather than any of the things you were stressed about. 

“Bye Trey!” You hastily bid him adieu, before turning all your attention to your annoying feline friend. 

Even with Grim trying to snag another treat from the box, you can’t find yourself to be mad at him instead laughing as you’re forced to play keep away with the boxes. Sure, you can’t predict what will happen tomorrow but with the day you had assuaging your own fears, and setting new boundaries, you felt like you would sleep well tonight. Maybe tonight, you could sleep peacefully as you live in this new world.

Maybe things would be alright after all?

What's Right is Wrong.

Today had been a long day, but not long in the way of you being completely and utterly exhausted from stress and sleep-deprivation. Instead of heading back to Ramshackle quickly in order to avoid being out after dark and whatever horrible things can happen in that dark night, you can walk calmly back, humming in contentment as you balance the boxes of baked goods in one hand, whilst fighting back a hangry Grim with the other. 

“Gimme!” Grim orders, as you fight off one of his paws in an attempt to stop him from devouring all them, box and all. 

“No.” you scold. You’ve grown used to Grim’s constant and seemingly never ending hunger. And you were happy to have this be the biggest nuisance of your day, considering the other terrors you could have dealt with. “You can wait till we get back to the dorm.”

“But I can’t wait till then!” Grim whines again. Still fighting your one free hand with a warrior’s fervour. You laugh as you try to make it back to the dorm without him eating any. 

“Yes, you can! Just wait.” You say with a warm laugh, content with the day’s happenings behind you. Today, all in all, was a great one. Calm, fun, and borderline sane. Maybe you were too doubtful in this world. Maybe you were wrong. Maybe you were-

“Hey! Watch it!” a gruff voice gives you only a seconds warning before they slam into you so hard you fall back onto the stone pathway hard on your butt. The boxes you were balancing collapse onto you like an avalanche of dessert, the not good kind, sending the sugary stickiness of syrups, frostings and glazes onto your skin and clothes and poor Grim. You can’t help but think that voice is familiar.

“Ow!” You groan in pain, wincing as the sticky sensation on your skin along with your new bruises. “Hey, Watch where you’re-” You look up to see the two delinquents from a couple days before. Both now dirty with the remains of the destroyed and smashed pastries. And they seemed to recognise you.  “Shit…”

The one you bumped into growls as soon as he recognises you. His eyes lit with anger, and his face morphs into an ugly scowl,“Hey, wait a second… You’re that bitch that broke my yolk and had Spade beat us up!” You have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes as you brush off the destroyed treats sticking to your clothes.

His lackey pipes up. A bandage is wrapped on his nose where Deuce punched him. “Yeah! You got our noses broken! And now, you’ve dumped your shit on us!”

Grim immediately spits back. “We didn’t do anythin’ to you! You bumped into us!”

They turn their anger onto Grim, “And you still have your mangy rat!” You can feel your face heat in anger. 

“Grim’s not a rat!” You clamber to your feet and step in between Grim and these numbskulls. “And let it the fuck go, this entire fucking mess started over an egg. This is the stupidest thing to get mad at!” But these idiots have skulls as thick as steel. And you can see their faces turning red just like Riddle’s from anger. And then the redness subsides. The one that started this whole mess, lets a cruel smirk cross his face before nudging his lackey.“Hey, wait, she's all alone. Her bodyguards aren’t here.” An unnerving chill goes up your spine. 

“Yeah…” A cruel grin crosses the second delinquents face. “She’s all alone.” 

You take a cautious step back, preparing to snatch Grim and run. You’re already outnumbered and they have magic on their side. “Don’t you fucking dare.” You try to threaten. “If you put a hand on me, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

Grim snarls, “Yeah! Stay away from my Hench-!” but he doesn’t get to finish his sentence, because the first delinquent kicks him harshly into the rose bushes. You can hear a pained yowl as he’s thrown into the brambles.

“Gri-!” Your yell of concern is cut short as the second one punches you in the jaw, hard enough to send you back into the mess of food on the pathway and to make you groan in pain. Before you can even sit back up, the first stomps on your back to hold you down while the other slams his foot into your face. You can hear an audible crack through your skin, forcing a cry from your throat, “Gah..” Blood oozes out of your nose and you feel as if you can’t breathe. 

“There! Now ya nose matches ours!” One of the bullies boasts, but you’re too delirious to recognise which one. To rub salt into the wound, something wet lands on your cheek. You cringe in disgust when realising that one of the assholes spat on you. “You better stay out of our way, or you’ll regret it!” The two bastards both give you a kick to the gut before they walk away, talking all cocky about their successful beating of a disadvantaged target. 

“And I helped your sorry asses,” You mutter, wiping the saliva off your cheek, before you check on Grim, “You okay?” Grim shakes off the remaining food residue, and you check him over for wounds. He’s fine, thankfully. 

“Myah… I shoulda cooked ‘em.” Grim grumbles, “Shoulda make them fear the Great Grim!” You can’t help but nod in agreement. He should have cooked them, it would have deserved karmic justice. “Come on, henchman!! Let’s go get ‘em!”

Grim nearly takes off like a rocket in his attempt to get his much deserved vengeance but you catch him by his tail to stop him. “Wait, Grim!” 

Grim looks completely baffled, “Myah? Wha? Weren’t we gonna make ‘em pay?”

As much as you’d like for Grim to claw their eyes out and cook them alive, if Grim gets expelled for fighting, you’ll lose your roommate and have to sleep alone at night. And while you can’t say that, you know how to get him to listen to you. “Grim, what will happen if you attack them, they report you and you get thrown out? How will the Great Grim become the world’s strongest mage if he’s thrown out? Is that what you want?”

“....No..” Grim deflates as he’s forced to accept that you’re right. “But I wanna make ‘em pay, henchman!”

“We will in the… the pathetic way.” Snitching is the most pathetic way you can get back at them, but you don’t exactly have the luxury of a choice here. “We’re gonna tell Riddle, so he can punish them and we can go clean up.” Grim keeps grumbling, but he doesn’t argue against it. You sigh, wiping away your nose blood with your sleeve but it continues bleeding, and you hiss as your sleeve touches it, the bastard definitely broke it. “Great, and this day was going so well.”

You basically stomp all the way back to Heartslabyul, you and Grim grumbling annoyed all the way and getting looks from the residents from your messy appearance. You yell out for someone to find Riddle right under the threat of extreme violence, before storming to the lounge to find your friends so you could vent out your frustrations. You can’t find it within yourself to care about what anyone thinks of you right now. As your anger boils underneath your skin, you storm to Ace’s and Deuce’s dorm, ready to curse out their existences with your friends until you feel better.

“____-” The playful smile that formed on Ace’s face as soon as he saw you falls just as quickly when he sees the state you and Grim are in, “What the hell happened to you?!”

You plop yourself onto Deuce’s bed, not caring for the stains you're probably leaving on the furniture and instead caring about letting out the rage boiling within you. Considering that he makes space for you with a concerned expression, you don’t think he minds.  Pissed off you vent,  “Those two asshole delinquents are what happened!! They attacked me again and broke my nose!!”

“They what?” You can hear the icy coldness of silent rage in Deuce’s voice, the anger just barely restrained, and with how tightly his fists are squeezed, you can hear the sound of his knuckles cracking. Just like the last time, he confronted those bullies. 

But you’re too blind with rage to consider the negative outcome of this could result in. “AND they spat on me!!” You continue to rant and rave, spilling out every detail that provoked your ire. 

Grim jumps in to recount his own attack, with the same amount of anger and vitriol that  you had. “Yeah! And they kicked me!!”

“They did WHAT!? The angry snarl in Ace’s voice is lost on you, but the anger on their faces is too apparent for you to ignore. Ace looks as pissed as he was when Riddle insulted you, and Deuce looks as furious as he did when those jerks threatened you the last time. 

Deuce gets shot up from his seat next to you like a bullet, his face twisted in anger and his fists shaking with rage. “I’m gonna-” It’s at this point, clarity comes back to you for a split second. Quickly, you cut Deuce’s threat off, “NO. Deuce, sit down.” Deuce complies immediately, sitting back down as fast he stood up. It would be funny if the situation was different, but a different situation this is not. “I am going to take care of this the correct and fair way. And Deuce, I’m not having you end your honor student stuff so early.” You can see the rage dissolve for half a second at your concern, but it rushes back as fast as he remembers the slight you’d face. 

“But-” You silence Ace with an upset look. 

You hiss as you accidentally aggravate the break in your nose, before continuing, “Look, Ace, Deuce. I’d love for you to kick the crap out of them to make me feel better… but I don’t want you to get in trouble because of me. You both aren’t going to go unpunished for kicking the crap out of them like before.” You pout after finishing that statement, picking a few frosting covered pebbles out of Grim’s fur, before adding.  “No matter how much I’d love that.”

You can see the conflicted look on Deuce’s face, “I never should have attacked them then… They wouldn’t have attacked you if I hadn’t beaten them up so badly…”

Ace looks like he feels the same guilt, but he looks more mad about it.  “Yeah, or you shoulda found us so we could walk you back. Then this would have never happened.” 

“Look, it’s too late now for any of that. I just-”

At that moment, the person you want to get your vengeance for you finally arrives. “I came as fast as I could, where is she?!” Riddle all but breaks down the dorm’s door in his haste, with Cater hot on his heels. They both recoil in shock at the state of you. Cater even drops his phone out of shock. 

Cater recovers the fastest, “Wtf, happened to you?!” 

Riddle’s shocked face goes flaming red in a matter of seconds,  but despite that, he manages to calm himself long enough to speak without screaming like he did the last time he got like that. He sighs in dissatisfaction before saying, “Here, let me fix that for you.” With a flick of his magic pen, a warm wave of magic washes over you as the bones in your nose crack back into place and the pain subsides. 

“Thanks, Riddle.

“There, now…” You can see the red rise back into his cheeks as his anger returns full force. “What exactly happened?” You can hear the anger burn in his voice. 

“Two students from here stomped on my face.” You can see second by second the shock in his eyes vanishes and is replaced with anger. “I don’t know their names, but they're from Heartslabyul. Riddle, can you do anything to punish them?”

Riddle snaps out of his shock at the mention of his dorm, “I’m sorry, the people who attacked you are from this dorm?” You can see red creeping up his cheeks, his face turning red from fury, glad to know that the anger is shared among all the people here. (Once again, the reason why doesn’t click just yet) “Do you happen to know who they are?” You can hear him grinding his teeth together, at least he’s trying to restrain his temper. 

“I fucking wish.” You wish you did because you’d be fully prepared to storm to their dorm and let Grim burn it down, “But when you find them, and I know that this is kinda counter-productive, please be that mean and ruthless tyrant again while you punish them, I’m half joking, but seriously make them pay for this….” A part of you can’t believe that you were actually saying that given everything you’d gone through to get him to chill out in the first place, but you’re too blind with rage to think otherwise.

“Wait a sec, I might know which POSs’ did this to you.” Cater’s phone is back in his hand, hand clenched so tightly around his phone, the screen might crack under his grip. “These them?”

Cater flashes his phone screen at you, and the sight of those two cocky bastards smiling unbothered by the crimes they committed against makes your blood boil at the sight of those two losers again. ‘Yep… that's them.” 

Riddle snatches Cater’s phone from him, and his scowl deepens further once he recognises them. “So these two are responsible for breaking rule 810…” You take note of the unknown rule of the Queen of Hearts, the elusive rule 810… Considering how little you know of the Queen of Hearts’ rules, you can’t help but be a little curious. But considering how sticky your clothes are getting, you don’t really care that much.

Cater’s usual upbeat behavior returns as fast as it left. “Hey, ______. How about I take you to get some new snacks from Trey while Riddle, Acey and Deucey go deal with those two walking Ls  , yeah?”

“Wait, I can't stay?” You actually feel disappointed about that, you kind of wanted to stare down at those losers like they did to you. 

“______  can’t stay?” Ace seems to share your sentiment, looking equally confused as you were. 

And Deuce as well, “Shouldn’t those two face _______ and Grim so that they can apologise?”

“It's for the best if _______ doesn’t.” Riddle explains, “The dorm punishment for d- pardon, fighting is a lot more strict than you think it is.” Well in that case maybe it's best you go. If it's anything like the whole tart nonsense, then the punishment might be more ridiculous and outlandish than satisfying. Though you note Riddle’s odd correction of speech. 

“Alright then…” A wave of exhaustion settles over you, all thanks to those two imbeciles ruining your day. “Look, at this point I honestly don’t care about what happens to them, just punish them and make sure that they don’t bother me again. I’m gonna go.” You ‘re ready to leave and chalk this day up to a loss. You feel exhausted and mad from all the wasted desserts being tossed onto you like random garbage. 

You expect them to argue against that and try to stay with you….

“Sure, I guess.”

“Alright.”

…But they don’t. Maybe they’re doing it to honor your earlier request or it’s just them wanting to see the two that beat the crap out of you punished as soon as possible. 

Either way, you’re too tired to care. 

“Cool, well Grim and I will see you all tomorrow?” You bide everyone goodbye, but there’s a pit in your gut, informing you of a very bad feeling. Maybe it was just that kick to the gut……

 *                    *                    *

The dorm kitchen is missing a lot of the warmth it had fifteen minutes ago. There’s the residual sweet smell from earlier, but the contentment you felt earlier was crushed as swiftly as your nose was. Trey notices you and Cater as soon as you enter, but whatever positive feeling he probably had at your return is swiftly crushed as he notices the bruises, blood and the food mess covering you. “What in the Twisted Wonderland happened to you?!” He’s less angry and more concerned than the others had reacted, instead focusing his energy on checking your injuries. 

“Two POSes kicked the crap out of her, that’s what. Invoked rule 810.” Cater’s voice lacks all of his usual peppiness as he says that. “Riddle’s handling it.” There’s a strange emphasis on the ‘handling’ part of that sentence. 

“Is that so?” Trey’s eyes fill with a dark glint, his voice deathly grim, before it switches back to his concerned big-brother and he sighs, “Right now you need some first aid, ______. I’ll be there to help in a bit, Cater.”

“Aw, don't worry Cay-Cay will make sure they pay-pay.” Cater squeezes you into a good-bye hug. You accept it, return it, but you swear that the look in his eyes doesn't match with the smile on his face. Like instead they’re filled with bloodthirst rather than sympathy. “TTYL, ______.”

Riddle’s magic has fixed the break, but the soreness lingers. Plus, your face is spotted with purplish bruises from the beating you took. Trey helps you treat and patch up the small cuts and bruises. His face looking way too guilty from Trey hands you a pair of ice-packs which you accept gratefully, pressing one to your face and the other to Grim’s stomach. Hissing as soon as it touches your bruised skin, you can see Trey slightly wince from the pained noise. “Th-Thanks… To think this was a nice day.” 

“I have something that might help make it less… bad. It might not be much but…” He steps into the pantry for a moment returning with another box smelling sweet of the cool treats. “Here, it’ll make your night a little better.”

“Y-You don’t have to…” You say, partially meaning it. Your nose being fixed was pretty much all you needed and the treats were a wonderful bonus, but you remember him telling you he couldn’t spare much else. Why the sudden change?

“After everything you've been through, you deserve something to make the rest of your day a little better. Here.” Trey hands you another box filled to the brim with nice-smelling treats, just like the last one. Albeit they do smell sweeter than the last ones. 

You accept the replacements with a smile, only to suddenly remember what he said earlier, “Wait, I thought that you said all of these were for someone’s birthday?” 

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” Trey replies, ruffling your hair affectionately. “ I’ll worry about that, go and get cleaned up. ” You bid Trey a thankful good-bye, and turn to leave just as Grim jumps into the box to snack on the replacement treats. Grim takes up the most of your attention as you depart. Too focused on Grim’s eating habits to return it back to Trey. Though as you leave, you can swear you heard Trey mutter something under his breath, “He’s never going to get them after all.”

The Queen’s Ax.

“Seriously, Grim?! Did you eat them all?!” Back at Ramshackle, after you’d cleaned up and changed clothes you’d returned to the dusty living area to find that Grim had nearly eaten all but one of the treats Trey had given you. “Those were for both of us!!” 

“Myah… The Great Grim should never have to share his food!” Grim protects the last slice of a tart with his entire body, trying to hog all the food as per usual. “It’s mine, Henchman!”

You raise an eyebrow at his fit, “Oh really, then I guess I won’t open your tuna anymore, so you don’t share your food…” You can see Grim growl, but he extends the last slice out to you in defeat. “That’s what I thought.” You say with a teasing smile, before stealing it away from your pouting roommate. 

You take a large bite out of it, but as soon as you take a bite out of the slice, though, Grim yawns with his eyes dropping out of sleepiness. That was fast. And isn’t it kind of early for him to be so tired? “You okay?” Grim’s head seems to become too heavy for his body, as he starts to nod off. 

“Nnn… I’m fine…Henchman…Zzz.” He falls asleep mid-sentence, curling up into a small furry ball on the couch. 

You set the tart down to poke him with your fingers. And he’s fast asleep. You’ve seen him drift off quickly in class, but when it comes to food especially Grim is wide awake. But maybe he’s just tired from the attack, you should probably get him a blanket or something. It’s been a long day after all. 

You spare a glance to the half-eaten tart, thinking of finishing it on the way, but you decide against it heading for the blanket. You could always eat it after. “If you’re tricking me so that you can finish it, I’m putting you on a diet, Grim.” You threaten, but Grim is so fast asleep he’s snoring. He’s definitely not faking it. 

You spare a thought to why Grim is so tired as you climb the stairs, because this is not the first time he’d fallen asleep like that. It’s odd, that he could be completely awake one moment and fast asleep the next. You’d gone through that the other day, so why-

“What the..” Your vision swims and sways as you cling onto the banister for support as fatigue hits you like a brick to the forehead. Despite the exhaustion, you can’t help but feel that this feeling is very familiar. Still, you try to shake off the exhaustion, muttering “What’s….. happening….. to…….”

You don’t get to finish your sentence. Your legs start to feel like noodles and you collapse, tumbling down the stairs backwards, slamming your head onto the hardwood at the bottom. Pain floods your head and the world goes dark. 

 *                    *                    *

“--____?!” Someone’s shaking you, aggravating the blinding pain stuck in your mind like your head hit the bottom steps. Your head throbs as you open your eyes, and you hiss from the light stabbing your retinas. Despite the pain, you can see two blurry figures staring down at you, voices far too loud for your pain filled mind. 

You manage to grasp the person shaking you and forcing their hands off so you can adjust. Light and sound burn your mind like a white hot flame. The colours here are way too bright and even more garish and overly saturated. Wasn’t it dark out when you got back? Why is it suddenly so bright?

<Miss? Please!> The voice of a young British girl sounds so familiar, yet far too loud. You remember feeling your legs suddenly becoming weak, and your head colliding with the bottom step before you passed out. But why did you suddenly pass out? Your body starts to be jerked back and forth again, and you can feel the blades of grass tickle your face as something shakes you. <Please! We need to go!>

<_____, we don’t have time for this! We need to move before she finds us!!> Two arms wrap around you and pull you off of the grass, and in response to that you thrash, trying to shake them off of you. With how much pain you're in you can’t help but fear the worst, something clearly bad had happened or was happening. <Please, don’t fight me, ______! The Queen might find us soon!>

At this point you recognise the voice trying to move you. With some difficulty, you open your eyes to find a very skittish looking Winston and a very scared looking Alice. Wait, why were you back in wonderland? You didn’t do any of what you usually do when you travel here. “W-Wait, what am I doing here?” You leave out the ‘where am I’ despite where you woke up being so starkly different. You squint at the too bright colours of the surrounding environment, instead of the Queen of Hearts palace or its extravagant rose garden, you’re in a giant, and way too over-stimulating meadow. 

All the flowers and mushrooms that are way too big, bright and cartoony grow to the size of houses, mirrors, none of which like yours, grow from the stalks and stems. One the ground is an unkempt and overgrown path of giant pebbles. The too-vibrant colours overstimulate your battered brain, making the agonising migraine worse.  

Winston barely gives you any time to gather your bearings, yanking you back to your feet despite your condition. <I don’t know! We just found you here, but we need to go before Mary and the cards find us!> Winston practically yells as he explains, his hands are shaky and clammy on your arm. With your vision no longer blurring, he is the perfect picture of panic. 

You wince from the noise, with it being too much for your tender head. “Be quieter please... And slow down.” Winston takes a breath for what has to be the first time since you got here. “Now explain, what's happening?”

<I'm- We're going home.> He locks his hand around the frightened Alice’s in that moment, but you can still see him shake. <You were right.I can't take it anymore! Every second I spend with her, walking on eggshells, trying to keep her bloody temper from beheading anyone who looked at her wrong. And…> Winston’s ranting turns into manic muttering to the point where he doesn’t even pause to take a breath between words. Unlike his hot-tempered ‘wife’, Winston practically turns blue in the face as he regailes the nightmare he put up. His anger and grief come out in screamed rambles, as he speaks about the woman he ‘married’ with enough rage filled hate to make you worry about him having a stroke. 

“Winston? Winston!” It takes you your second try to get him to be quiet and listen to you. And even then he looks like he’s on the edge of a panic attack. Maybe letting him vent in a more controlled way will help him out. “You’re spiraling, and Alice and I need you to focus.”

Winston takes another deep breath, still trembling. <R-Right.>

“Now, calmly tell me what you and Alice were doing before you saw me. If you can't, maybe Alice can?”

Winston fidgets to relieve his discomfort, before nudging Alice to explain for him as he tries to calm himself. <We were going to the locked door. His Majesty said that he fell into wonderland like I did, and there was a locked door that led back home just like the one I saw. He said it’s the only way out of wonderland.>

Okay so there was an exit. That’s a good start. “How are you sure that it’s the only way out?”

<His Majesty said that he’d used it before to leave here before…> He what?! <Back when- >

Winston interrupts Alice, gently pushing her forward on the pebbled path. <Alice, how about you walk ahead of us, you’ll be able to spot the door first.>

You and Alice give him a look of confusion. Alice tries to object, <But- >

But Winston leaves no room for her to argue back. <Go.> Not pushing it, Alice reluctantly runs up the path, leaving the two of you alone. 

Despite that, you have questions of your own. “Why didn’t you tell me that you’d left here before? Why are you still here if you know how to leave?” If it was possible to leave this world, to the point that Winston had done it earlier? The only reason you’re still stuck here is because you don’t know how, if he did, why didn’t he use it to leave long before this? 

But you can’t help but wonder, was it a point of shame to him? That he’d left once and his return doomed him? The way his face falls as he struggles to find the words tells you that was the truth. <It’s…. It’s complicated.> 

If that’s the case, you need him to explain. If he hadn’t seen the signs as fast as you had, you couldn’t really blame him for it. You try to sound as soothing as possible, “Well, un-complicate it. Just explain, I won’t judge you for it.”

Winston shifts in discomfort as he stares at his feet, <It’s a long story.>

You squeeze his shoulder in comfort. “We have time.”

A little defeated, Winston sighs before explaining. <I first came here when I was maybe 20. I was wandering the woods, looking for inspiration for a novel I was writing.>

“You’re a writer?”

<Was. Back then, I was a free-spirit. I liked wandering around and losing myself in nature, and that’s how I found the white rabbit.> 

“You met the white rabbit, is that how you came to wonderland?” The difference in how you arrived stands out to you. If Winston came to Wonderland the same way as Alice, then what caused you to get here? NRC probably didn’t exist as a school back when Winston lived, so the Black Carriage didn’t bring him there. Was the magic in this world just selective on how people from earth were brought here?

<Y-Yes. I remembered it talking so I  followed it to a stump with a large hole. When it went down, I tried calling out for it, and then crawling after it….> Winston’s face flushes with embarrassment, <And then… falling after it.>So when Alice had said that she and Winston had come to Wonderland the same way, she wasn’t wrong. But you could understand a little bit of the embarrassment considering you walked right into a strange magic carriage. <The only difference between Alice’s story and my own is that I passed out during the fall.>

“You passed out?” You had lost consciousness when entering the black carriage, so the fact it happened to Winston and not Alice feels just the slightest important. No way that was something to casually ignore, right? “I-I passed out when I got here, did you notice anything different once you got here?”

<Not really. All that I noticed when I woke up was that the world around me had changed, and that the flowers I was holding came with me.> 

“Flowers?”

<Roses. The forest I was in was full of red and white roses, so I had picked a lot of them and I held onto them when I fell… If it’s helpful, there was one unique one out of the bunch, a black rose. I’d never seen or heard of one before.> Was that the connecting piece? Something strange occurring in a magicless human life? That left you with more questions than answers.

“Maybe. But back on topic, how did you meet-” You suddenly try to start but even before you say her name you can see Winston freeze up. “Winston? Are you-”

Winston quickly interrupts you, “I-I’m fine.” He quickly lies, with the paleness on his face telling you the truth. “When I fell here, I didn’t know where to go. And like Alice, I got lost in this place. I-I couldn’t help it, I was so… fascinated by this place.” He stops walking to spare a quick gaze over the giant meadow. “Once I looked at this place with wonder, now all I feel is misery….”

You squeeze his shoulder in comfort, “You’ll be out soon.”

<I know, it’s just…> Winston sighs, “ I met Mary for the first time shortly after I got out of this meadow. Went down the wrong path and squeezed myself through the rose bushes, to find myself in Mary’s garden during an unbirthday party.” You hear him curse under his breath as he kicks a rock on the path, <Should have never trusted that bloody cat.>

“Cat?” There was supposed to be only one cat that could have led him astray. The Cheshire Cat?”

<Who else?> That confuses you. The cat had helped Alice no problem, but had sabotaged Winston? <I asked him for directions, and he’d told and I quote ‘ someone will slink into your life, yes, someone strong enough to whisk you away from all those dreadful little worries... if you don't lose yourself first, of course.’  I didn’t have the luxury of choosing against that, so I took him for his word.> But that sent him right to the Queen of Hearts garden, and to the person who replaced his worries with a big new one.

<And because of that I accidentally crashed the unbirthday party and… met Mary for the first time.> The anger fades to be replaced with sadness. <I crashed her party at the worst moment, ruining her winning shot during the croquet tournament and ‘embarrassing’ her in front of all her guests.>

“I’m so sorry.” You’d dealt with enough of Riddle in his tyrant days to know that that was a recipe for disaster. “She probably lost it.”

<She did. And screamed at the card soldiers to capture me so it could be ‘off with my head’ but I thought quickly… Remember the roses?> you nod in reply, <I was still holding them and I… may have offered them as an apology gift.>

“Did it work?” Winston nods glumly, “Then why was that bad?”

<B-Because, the bouquet had a black rose in it, remember? Turns out they’re extremely rare here… Mary calmed down instantly and accepted the roses, saying something about it being the most precious gift she ever got. And then she just commanded the guards not to remove my head. I was so relieved that I didn’t care about why, and when the Queen announced she would house me I just thought she was doing it as an apology for overreacting.>

Maybe you would have been suspicious if you weren’t aware of the situation like Winston had, but either way you couldn’t really blame his judgement.  Winston had unintentionally done something super romantic to the Queen to escape her wrath. Even if you think that the Queen is deluded, you can’t deny that what he did wasn’t very romantic, even if it was what he did to save his own head. “It may have saved your neck, but I think you may have made her swoon.”

<I know… But I didn’t notice that at first. After she calmed down, she apologized to me for threatening to remove my head and offered to help me when I told her that I was having trouble getting home. She even let me attend her party and shared her favorite tart with me.> You’re struck with a wave of deja vu. Riddle had done the same with you earlier that afternoon, and he didn’t even mind that you, really Grim, ate most of it. <We may have also shared the fork, and I didn’t notice the intimacy of it until much later.>

“So you unintentionally had a first romantic date at her unbirthday.> You don’t want to blame that on Winston, but you can’t not believe that this has happened and started the mess that snowballed into the hell Winston would one day live in. You are also reminded that you’d also done the same thing with the fork, rather spoon, once with Trey in the dorm kitchen. 

<I didn’t mean to, I was just being foolish. But back then, I thought nothing of it. And that probably was the worst mistake I ever made. It wasn’t all bad at first. She might have been overly touchy and affectionate back then, but she didn’t stop me from trying to find my way home as long as I spent time with her.> You couldn’t blame him for that either, looking back on what you had done today. Even if they are your biggest threat here, you did seek companionship with Ace and Deuce. You’d even humored Cater, hung out with Riddle and Trey… had, no, were you making a mistake?

“But, you found a way out right? We’re heading there after all.”

Winston  nods, <It took a while, but yes. It’s a door at the edge of Wonderland. It’s the only way out of here I believe.>

“And you’re positive it works?” It working now is obvious, because Alice has to find her way home. But it needs to work for you because if it doesn’t you’re as good as trapped. “Completely sure?”

<It better.> Winston gives you a gentle smile of reassurance. <I’ve used it before and it better not fail me now. As far as I know it’s magical, but it needs a key to work.>

“Key?”  

<This.> Winston withdraws a chain from under his shirt, revealing a bronze key with a big red jewel. It’s starkly detailed and clearly unique, the gem reminds you of the magic pens that Heartslabyul students use. <As far as I know there’s only one in existence. I took it from the door back when Mary first captured me. I didn’t want to risk it being destroyed.>

“But you’d used it before.” If he did, why come back? This world isn’t exactly paradise and considering he was nearly killed on his first day in this ‘Wonderland’  there was no reason for him to come back. Unless, he came back for- “You didn’t come back here for inspiration, right?” Winston’s silence tells you all you need to hear. This world is an author’s dream come true. 

<I’m sorry. I-I was just so intrigued by this new and odd place, I wanted to stay and explore it more and more. I wanted to escape my boring world and enjoy this extraordinary one. So while I was testing  the way out, Mary suddenly snapped at me and asked me to stay with her for a while when I was about to step back home. It took me by surprise but she really persuaded me and I stupidly accepted.> Winston’s gaze drops to the floor, <I… I was really stupid back then.>

While his decision to stay here wasn’t exactly the smartest one in hindsight “You’re not stupid, you were just tricked. You know better now.” You try to reassure him. 

But Winston’s mood doesn’t improve. <You don’t get it just yet. After I got close to leaving, she started to get really, really different. It was like she went back to the angry lady that she was when I met her. She was still touchy and affectionate, but her temper started to get bad. If I talked to anyone that wasn’t her, she would suddenly blow up…> You’re nowhere near what Winston had, if any of your… friends started to act that way you know at least now to run in the opposite direction immediately. <I talked to her about it, after she tried to pull me away from someone I was talking to but she just told me she wouldn’t do it again. She did do it again…> You’re again suddenly reminded by your conversation with Ace and Deuce, when you’d asked them to respect your boundaries and how fast they nearly broke it when you went to talk to Cater. But that was just a coincidence. Right? <But that time she blew up at me, telling me that she needed me more. I started to get a bad feeling then… but then there was the incident.>

You’re suddenly struck with a bad feeling, “What happened?”

<Three months into my stay, someone in the Royal Flush- the royal court here, didn’t like me very much, and they hit me with a croquet mallet in a lapse of judgement. It ended with them breaking my arm and Mary was furious. She got mad occasionally when I was there, but it was the first time in a long time she threatened to remove someone’s head again. I was upset, but I wanted them to be punished fairly and that’s what I told her. She got very calm suddenly, and then she smiled and said that she understood.>

You’re hit with yet another wave of deja vu. Your nose had been broken by two people because of an enormously stupid reason. And in your turmoil, you’d told the same thing (minus the killing part) to Riddle to punish them. With so many concerningly similarities, you’re pushed to ask, “And what happened to him?”

Winston’s face falls to that of grief, <He’s dead.>

You feel as if you heard him wrong. Didn’t he ask the Queen to not kill them? So, you ask lamely, struck dumb. “...What?”

Winston quickly checks to make sure Alice isn’t listening in on your conversation, before whispering. <M-mary tried to hide it from me, but someone led me to the castle’ punishment room, I got there in time to…. to watch him…. To watch him lose his head… I-I remember running away, but I don’t know what happened to the body. I don’t want to know. For breaking my arm, that was the price he paid.> His voice cracks with sorrow, still stricken with grief for the long dead.

“She… She had him killed?” You repeat. The Queen of Hearts was known for being a sadistic tyrant, so this wasn’t a complete surprise to you, but having to watch it is something else entirely. You’re unnerved at the reminder of your own discussion about the delinquents. Was something like this happening?

You quickly shake away the thought, the more you think about it the greater the chance it might manifest. 

Winston’s voice is choked with tears. <I… I still don’t know why she did that. I was only angry because I was injured, and I thought they’d be removed from the court… I-I knew she was a little sadistic, but I didn’t think she’d kill them! I was horrified! And I decided to leave after that.  I just couldn’t stay with a murderer. If she could kill someone for something so small, what would she do to me?!>

Considering how she’d gone from 100 to 0 to back to 10000, you can only see why this ended so terribly. You already feel like you know where this is going. “So you ran?”

Winston nods, <The magic door always had the key in it’s lock. So I just ran there as fast as I could, but somehow, she’d found out I was leaving! I don’t know who told her but just before I got there, she came, bright red and angry, screaming at the card soldiers to capture me. I tried to get away from her and the cards, but she caught me…> Winston visibly wilts as he recounts the tale of his capture and all you can do is pity him.

<I demanded she let me go… but she said that she couldn’t let me leave her. That I’d already proposed to her and she wasn’t going to let me leave her like I almost did. I told her I didn’t know what she was talking about, and she told me- >

“That you’d proposed to her? But you never did that?!” 

<...Exactly!> He agrees, outraged, <I told her I never did that, and she told me that since I gave her the black rose, I had proposed to her and she wasn’t going to let me ever leave, even after we were married. She even made it one of her outlandish rules. Rule 222 of the Queen of Hearts, Present a black rose to your sweetheart, and you shall be married, never to part. > You can only listen, horrified. 

You didn’t know more than 20 of the rules of the Queen of Hearts, but you already knew that she was making her rules to suit her narrative. But now you can’t help but think that those rules came to be because of her desire to control Winston. Considering she pulled that rule out of nowhere to force Winston to marry her, what else had he been forced to do because of her rules. Winston continues his spiel, < I told her she was crazy and that I didn’t love her, and that’s when she lost it.She went red with anger and screamed at me that if I wasn’t going to stay willingly, she would make me. And then she had the guards take to the…> Winston visibly shudders, <The cell.>

You hate that that bad feeling doesn’t leave you. It worsens as your curiosity peaks, as you’re spurred to ask, “What exactly is that cell?”

<It’s a room… Hidden behind a wall in her bedroom. IIt wasn’t bad at first, but she left me there for two months. It was awful… dark, cold, too quiet, and the walls were thick. There were only small holes in the wall for air, but no matter how hard I clawed the walls, I couldn’t get out… I knew she could still hear whatever happened inside, all my tears and screams and begging….> Every word that Winston says to describe it looks like it visibly pains him to say it. <The only person I saw during that time was her and her alone.>

You shiver at the thought of being locked in a dark cell for that long with only someone horrifically obsessed with you as company, and that was only when she decided that he probably ‘deserved’ it. Talk about an effective punishment.<After two months in the dark, she told me that if I behaved she would let me out. I was so desperate to get out, I just said yes to whatever she said. And then the next thing I knew I was being held down at our wedding altar.> So, she’d used a cell to keep him hostage till their wedding was ready. The rule was just an excuse for her behavior. <I screamed at her that I wasn’t going to marry her. And again she was furious, but she didn’t lock me back in my cell, instead she threatened to behead all of the wedding guests if I didn’t go through with it. That’s when my nightmare started.>

“She threatened to behead people to get you to obey her.” You piece together. Winston’s right in calling it a nightmare. The idea of holding the lives of others over a person’s head was a tide and true technique to control someone. And Winston was just a normal person that dropped into a strange world by complete accident. 

<Everytime I tried to rebel or disobey her, she would threaten to remove someone’s head. And if I ever did something she didn’t like she’d just make another rule for me to follow, and then threaten to cut off all their heads if I didn’t start following them. After a while, she started just beheading them when I was disobedient. No matter what I did things seemed to just get worse.> That sounds in character for the Queen of Hearts, creating and enforcing rules to keep someone in their place. The place that she wants him to be in. <After a while, she started enforcing those rules onto the card soldiers and her subjects, and executing them if they disobeyed them. I had to walk eggshells every day, every single day, worrying that if I stepped a toe out of line she’d lose it and even more people would die. A-And her rules would get insane! Don’t drink raspberry tea on Thursdays or don’t play croquet if it's the second week of Spring. And it got worse and worse. I-I did whatever it took to make her happy, because I spent everyday worrying that someone would die if I didn’t.>

The 810 rules of the Queen of Hearts go from insane ramblings of a tyrant to a calculating plan by a controlling monster in your mind. The rules are so outlandish that it made Winston go from someone rational and probably brave to someone who looked like they flinched at the sight of their own shadow. With so many impossible rules, there’s no humanly possible reason for him to make it a week without accidentally breaking them. And with there being permanent, horrible consequences for Winston and so many more innocents, no wonder he grew so afraid of his own wife. 

<Before you and Alice got here, I learned to survive without upsetting her, but whenever someone else disobeyed her, she wouldn’t show them an ounce of mercy. I always tried to stop her at first, but after a while I just learned to stay silent.>  <You could say I learnt my place. I hoped that if I waited a while I could find a chance to slip away, and I did try to run away… but it didn’t work and what really scared the hell out of me happened next. I-I…>Winston’s trembling is borderline quaking. You have to grab his shoulders to keep him standing. 

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” You try to reassure him, and he shakes his head in an attempt to show bravery.

<N-No, I can do it. I-I never found out what happened to the remains of all the victims she’d executed. I’d mourned every single one of them, but Mary never told me what she did with them… W-When she d-dragged me back to the palace after I tried running away, she told me that if I couldn’t be upset leaving her behind, she’d teach me to fear ever leaving her again.> Dread pools in your gut as Winston’s breath becomes shaky. <A-And she locked me back in the cell, but…it was different that time… The cell was filled with… with heads.>

“What?”

<The… Their heads, all of the people she- all the ones who tried to stop me from escaping and all the people who died because of my disobedience, she’d thrown all of them in my cell and… and she said that if I w-wanted to be away from her so badly…. I could stay with them as long as I wanted.> 

The discomfort from the pain in your head is replaced by the sudden and horrible nausea churning in your gut. The idea of being locked in a room full of rotting heads, of each and every one of the people who’d died unfairly because of your hypothetical actions must have been traumatising.

<I clawed at the door for hours begging for her to let me out so I wouldn’t have to see them. So I wouldn’t have to be reminded by the people I- she killed. T-The people I killed. She’d checked on me every so often, and everytime I begged her on my hands and knees. I told her that I’d do whatever she wanted, I’d never make her angry again. And a month after that, she let me go and I… I gave up after that.> 

“Gave up?”

<I didn’t want to risk making her mad again, so I… I swore to never try to anger her again. For the sake of everyone here, and my own sanity. So I felt like I just gave up on my hope of escaping. But…>  He clutches the exit key in his grasp, <I remember grabbing it on my second escape attempt, I was terrified that she might’ve destroyed it so I kept it and never took it off, but whenever I used to look at it I would feel so helpless. It was as if Mary had destroyed my desire to be free….> You can only feel sympathy. You might not have gotten to experience this to the extent of Winston’s trauma, but the idea of being controlled to the point that Mary nearly killed his desire to be free of her and Wonderland, it scares you. To be so destroyed, or rather to have his life controlled to the point he longer tried to escape, to be trained and tamed like an animal, it’s one of the most terrifying things you’d ever witnessed. 

You and Winston walk in silence for a few minutes, the bright, sunny and colourful meadow doesn’t match the mood of the conversation in the worst way. Thankfully though Winston, suddenly but welcomely, smiles. It’s one that shows the scars of all he’d suffered but one that still has just the smallest thread of hope, one last thread, holding it and him together. <But I have to thank you.>

You’re taken aback by the sudden thanks, “W-Why are you thanking me?”

Winston wraps his hand around yours, despite it being a dream. He feels warm, warm with the new hope pushing him to do this. Smiling, he says, <Because I wouldn’t have gotten the idea to escape again, if you hadn’t appeared. Maybe all I needed was a harsh shove in the right direction. I don’t want Alice to be stuck here, or die here and even if I couldn’t save all the… the o-others… I’ll save her. I know I can.> Winston looks up at Alice who runs just a little further up the path, a warm, hopeful smile forms on his face. <Even if it’s just one out of hundreds of others, I’d like to save just one.>

Maybe it’s blind hope, or maybe naivete, but you're glad to see him smile genuinely. It’s different to see him at peace, even with the present anxiety of this escape. It’s a sign of hope for you. That maybe things might just be okay. Winston tucks back the key under his shirt, and his smile drops, <However I have to be honest… I have to go back there again. I don’t think I’ll be able to take it anymore- No, I’m not going back there.>

Determination fills you. You might not have done much, but if it saved Winston and Alice then maybe you’d done enough. And your reward would be the escape from your small nightmare. While you won’t make the mistake of staying here when pushed, you’ll be a little at peace knowing that you’d helped someone. Maybe that-

<Your Majesty!> Alice’s voice draws your attention towards where the now excited girl points at something just out of sight. <I can see it. The locked door!> She takes off running, now full of hope and excitement, and Winston chases after her, sharing the excitement of finally being freed from this horrible place. You lag behind, inspecting the surrounding area. If this doesn’t work for you because it’s a dream, you’ll need to find this place in present time. You just hope that this place still exists in the Queendom of Roses after all this time. Still, just like them you can’t help but feel excited in your own right. <______! Come quickly!>

Maybe this is a sign of better things. You yell back, “Coming!” and chase after them, and the genuine joy on their faces is a wonderful change of pace. 

Nearly buried in the foliage, mushrooms, flower stems and tree bark is a door that looks far too small for someone taller than an 8 year old to fit through. It’s reminiscent of the one you saw back in the overblot world with Riddle. Minus all the ink obviously.

Alice jostles the door handle to check if it’s still locked. Which it is, though it doesn’t curb her excitement. <After all this, I’m- We’re going home.> She exclaims, peering through the tiny keyhole. She steps away with a beaming smile on her face, <Thank you, Your Majesty.> She curtsies in thanks, nearly shaking with excitement. 

Her hopeful words make Winston smile. <Thank you too, Alice. And you too, _____.> Now much calmer, he withdraws the key from his shirt, unhooking it from its fraile chain. <Now let’s- >

<WINSTON CHRISTOPHER HEART!>  

A deafeningly loud screech drives the once peaceful meadow into an equally deafening silence. The three of you jump in fright, but Winston looks like his soul nearly propelled out of his skin. To your collective abrupt horror, his now shaking hands fumble the key, dropping it into the surrounding plant life where it vanishes completely from view. 

The three of you stand there frozen, hoping for it to pop right up like a blooming flower out of the earth. Alice, despite her excellent manners, curses.<Aw, bloody hell.> 

Well that perfectly describes this horrible situation. Winston whirls around and you follow suit, finding the opening in the path behind you, thankfully empty. But from the sound of marching inching closer and closer, it won’t be for long. Winston looks completely terrified as he not so gently shoves Alice into the giant blades of grass. He hisses not so quietly, his voice tense with urgency. <Go find it! I’ll stay here and stall her!>

<But- >

<GO!> Alice hurries into the blades of grass, with you following behind to help. You want to spur Winston to hide with you, but when you catch sight of the Queen’s flaming red face in your hesitation, do you realize that things might not end as easily as you hoped.

The Queen’s face is as red as cooked lobster and if it was any hotter her hair would catch fire. You hope the red smear on her face is jam from a tart. You pray that the red smear on her face is just jam. Behind her are dozens of card soldiers, marching in unison behind the Queen on a warpath. A hand presses against your back to shove you into the foliage, and you fall with a tumble. Your head, right where it burned, slams right into the dirt floor.

You just barely bite a cry of discomfort as your head wound is aggravated and your vision is blurred. Alice comes to check on you with the escape key in her hand. She opens her mouth to speak, but you manage to reach out and clamp her hand but you manage to reach out and slap your palm over her mouth, before she exposes her position to the Queen. 

Thankfully, the plant life keeps you hidden from view, but obstructs your view of the Queen and Winston. You’re glad you did because you can hear her exhales of unrestrained anger as close and clear as a bull ready to charge.  <Winston… Why… have… you…. LEFT  ME AGAIN!?> Her roar of rage is so loud that it makes you and Alice fall over from the vibration of it coursing through the earth. But instead of her continuing in her tirade of unrestrained fury, he roars of rage dissolve into- <Do you not love me any more, Winston? After all, I’ve done to love and protect you?> tears?! You have to bite your tongue to stop yourself from barking out how this was gaslighting at its finest. But unfortunately your self control doesn’t amount to Alice’s. 

The girl looks like she’s struggling to keep quiet, outraged at what she’s seeing, and you wouldn’t blame her if it meant not revealing your position to the Queen that wants her dead. Because the Queen will flip like a coin back to infuriated if Alice suddenly pops up. “Shush, Alice.” you insist as quietly as possible. 

Winston, thankfully, is experienced enough with this to not fall for whatever she’s plotting, instead he takes the gentle approach. <N-No, dearest. I-I just wanted to send the girl home. Nothing else.>

<Oh really?> You silently hold a deep breath, as she mulls it over, waiting for her to just accept the excuse and move on. For his and Alice’s sake- <DO YOU TAKE ME A FOOL, WINSTON! I KNOW OF THE KEY THAT HANGS AROUND YOUR NECK!> Your blood turns to ice as she screams so loudly that the ground shakes again and again. <HOW DARE YOU LIE TO ME AND TRY TO ESCAPE ME AGAIN! HOW DARE YOU TRY AND LEAVE WITH THAT TREASONOUS BRAT!! I thought we were past this!> 

All you can hear is a soft yelp from Winston, probably as she gets closer to him. Cornering him like she’d done every day of their marriage. He quickly tries to backpedal, <B-But I wasn’t trying to run this- >

The furious tyrant doesn’t let him get a word in.<I DO NOT CARE!! You won't escape me, There is no way back! YOU are NEVER allowed to leave ME!! > There’s a rustle of clothing, and another whimper from Winston. Probably from her holding him by the collar of his shirt. The next noise is muffled, and much sloppier. Your stomach churns in disgust as you put together that she’s forcing him to kiss her. She holds him there for far too long, and then her voice softens, becoming quieter as she says something that makes your blood chill. <I thought we were past this, that you were finally learning!!>

Winston doesn’t even try to deny her anymore, too beaten down to continue making excuses or explanations. Instead, he sobs, terrified of what’s to come. <I-I’m sorry… Please just don’t send me back there… please.> The cell he mentioned comes back to your mind. Are the heads still there? Does he have to see them every time he’s caged there? Your gut twists in horror. 

Unfortunately, despite claiming to love him, Winston is not spared an ounce of mercy. <Darling, you know my rules, and this is the only way you’ll learn. Guards!! Drag him back to his cell!!>

The marching of the card soldiers fills the air as they follow their queen’s order, preparing to drag him away from his only real escape.  <N-No, please! Dearest, please!> Winston begs, like he’s about to be killed. He begs his ‘wife’, though captor is more effective, and he begs the guards. But none listen to him. 

<I do hope you’re proud of yourself Winston, this hurts me just as much as it hurts you.> The Queen’s words stir horror and disgust in your gut. You want to throw up and cry at the same time. Because…

Because… this was your fault. 

And now, Winston would only suffer for it. 

Guilt fills your gut, as Alice manages to slip your hand from her mouth, her cheeks flushing pink from her own anger. The Key to her, his and your escape clenched tightly in her small hand, she stomps to the edge of the foliage. <W-We have to do something!> Realising what she plans to do, you instinctively snatch her arm and yank her back before she gets herself killed. Surprised, she objects, <Quickly, before he’s taken away!> 

<Alice, no!> You grab her and cling to the young girl like a lifeline, desperate to save her life and her from herself. Should she attempt this, the Queen could stop her at any moment. Or kill her at any moment. After you failed Winston like that, you couldn’t fail him with this. <We can’t. They can’t see me, the queen wants to kill you, and I can get you home, please!> 

Alice thrashes, <No, I have to help him!> You do your damndest to keep the stubborn child from walking to her own execution, cursing her childish impulsivity. You hold her as tightly as possible, but Alice jerks free in such a way that you fall back onto the rough and hard ground. Once again slamming your head, more specifically your wound, slams onto the dirt and stone. Every sense in your body slows down as your head throbs in agonizing pain, but you can still hear Alice yell,  <S-Stop it!! Let him go!!>

Your vision stabilizes just in time for you to see Alice run back into the break in the meadow.  Her one and only exit, your one and only exit, is trapped in her hand as she runs straight into danger. You scramble to follow her, but the pain ricocheting through your scalp leaves your limbs like soggy noodles. 

<You let him go, you evil tyrant!> Alice shoves her way up to the dumbstruck queen, shoving an accusatory finger into the bodice of her dress, <You evil witch, how can you be so cruel and heartless! He has done nothing wrong and you do not have the right to do this to him->

<Alice, NO!> You hear Winston plead, trying to stop the girl from digging her own grave. Alice pays no heed to his begging, instead continuing her tirade while the Queen stays oddly quiet.

<You…> The Queen’s voice is ice cold in comparison to her burning hot fury. Her face slowly turns red as Alice falls silent, losing all her confidence as the Queen’s rage-filled glare centers on the girl and taking a few steps back in fear. <You! You’re the criminal!! GUARDS!! OFF! WITH! HER! HEAD!!> 

At the sound of his wife’s damning words, Winston’s pleads for mercy turn into pleads for Alice’s life. <NO! Dearest, please don’t kill her!! I’ll do whatever you want just don’t please!>

The Queen ignores all of Winston’s desperate pleas, instead her eye catches on the key in Alice’s grasp, her pale face turning red in fury. <You vile little thing! YOU DARE COMMIT TREASON AGAINST THE CROWN AND NOW YOU TRY TO TAKE MY HUSBAND AWAY FROM ME!!!>

The accusation causes Alice’s blood to drain away from her face. <W-What?> 

The Queen’s horrible and twisted mind puts together a horrible and twisted conclusion. <That’s why you came, you evil creature! To steal him away and leave me miserable! THIS IS TREASON OF THE HIGHEST ORDER!!! OFF! WITH! HER! HEAD!>

Within seconds of her murderous screech, the deck of soldiers surround the very terrified Alice. You try to stand, to run and grab her away to save her from death and Winston from further anguish. But your legs give out under you and your vision begins to shake and tunnel. Your thoughts slow. So much so that you can barely string together an adequate curse worthy of this disaster.

As darkness clouds over your eyes, you can’t help but hate the people responsible. 

The Queen, absolutely. This horrible and twisted world, definitely. Yourself? You deserved it more than anyone else here. If you hadn’t spurred Winston to do this, maybe this would have never happened. Maybe Alice would have been free to run away by herself away from the Queen’s cruelty. Maybe Winston would be freed after everyone here rose up against the Queen’s tyranny. 

So as Winston’s screamed pleas dissolve with your sight, you mourn your first ever victim. As you fade from the dream that grew into an utter nightmare. 

Curiosity Kills The Cat

You awaken with a gasp. Though it turns from a gasp to a pain filled sob. 

Blind pain fills your scalp, your mind clouded by the pain as you weep silently, shaking from your quiet sobs. Whether it was real or not, what you dreamed of was a nightmare. And as you lie in a pool of blood, cool and sticky against your skin, you can feel it mix with the saltiness of your tears. 

You want to sob after you come to with a shaky gasp. Even as you sob, the universe doesn’t allow you any reprieve as you’re hit with a horrible headache. You don’t have the energy to cry, and only whimper as tears roll down your cheeks. You’d just ruined two lives. You’d pushed Winston to save Alice even when he didn’t want to, because you thought so naively that he could be happy and free if he helped her. By proxy, you’d pushed a child to her death, because of her sense of justice and her own childhood innocence where she thought she could save the person that was going to save her. And… and because you thought doing this would make everything okay. 

Now Winston was being unfairly punished and Alice was in danger. And you were an idiot who was so hopeful, yet equally stupid. So you do the only thing you can do, which is cry. Your body is too sore to pay attention to your situation in the walking world. 

Despite the blinding pain, you open your eyes to find the blurry interior of Ramshackle, your head resting on one of the bottom steps. You remember the dizziness you’d felt before you’d fallen, and the blinding pain you’d felt before you’d gone to Wonderland again. The pain is worse now, burning your head and the rest of your body even when you’re not moving. 

You feel as miserable mentally as you do physically. So you just lie there in your own misery, content with just lying there for the rest of your life and staring off into space. Until you blink and a familiar face and a head of pink-purple hair with matching ears fades into view. “Hello?... Is it a greeting, or a warning of delightful chaos to come?” 

Chenya’s upside down head purrs with an ear to ear smile, lying down next to your bruised form. His eyes glimmer with a teasing glint, as if he doesn’t know about what had transpired. And not with your dreams, according to the sticky feeling on your temple, you’re injured. So why was he so calm about that? Or was he enjoying it? It's hard to tell with Chenya. 

“...henya?” You mumble, “W-What are you… doing here” Your reaction is more tame and confused than it would have been if you weren’t potentially concussed. Your head might hurt, but you remember that you had locked the doors of Ramshackle when you got back. So why the hell was Chenya here?!

Chenya hums, as his disembodied head ‘grows’ a body, laying down next to you. “Oh, not happy to see me, are you? Hmm... can’t really blame you—after all, you are lying in a pool of your own blood.” You’re not in the mood for Chenya’s mischief right now. Sighing in annoyance, you push yourself shakily upwards in an attempt to pick yourself up. Unfortunately, your arms give out halfway. You groan as your head connects with the floor. Again. Your own blood sticks to your skin. Instead of showing concern, Chenya still has his ear to ear smile, “Can’t stand on your own paws? Here.” A vial clinks to the floor, the label is blurry but in cartoonish handwriting read, ‘Drink me :) ’. 

You may have had a lapse of judgement in the dream world, but in real life you’re not that stupid. “ ‘m not drinking that…” 

“Aw, c’mon, it’ll help.” Chenya pouts as his ears flatten against his head. “I’ll even help ya~”

“N-” After you made the stupid decision to open your mouth in reply, he forces the uncorked vial into your mouth, and you’re too weak to fight against it. You're forced to swallow the unknown liquid, wincing as it burns your throat. 

Now very angry, you force yourself to sit up with much more ease. Spitting to clear your mouth of the unknown fluid, you bark, “What the hell, Chenya!?” 

“See~ It worked.” Confused, you check yourself over noticing the sharp pain has dulled and you don’t feel as sluggish as a sloth. So whatever he gave you was actually something helpful. But you just wish he hadn’t forced it down your throat. “No need to be catty, ______~”

“S-Sorry”, you say, a little embarrassed. You feel a lot better now, physically at least. But your mind is buzzing with worry, how did Chenya get in here? Your brain might be bruised but you're positive that you locked the doors to Ramshackle when you got back. “But, how did you get here?”

“So many questions, ______. I can go pretty much anywhere and everywhere.” So dealing with cryptic nonsense is what you're going to do after you just went through something traumatic and when you already have a migraine? Wonderful.

“That's… fine. Just go, Chenya.” You stand up, prepared to take a long bath to wash the sticky feeling of your own blood off. Seeing that nightmare exhausted you, and you don't have the energy to deal with more bullshit today. “Thanks for helping me out, I'll see you whenever.”

“Are you sure? Do you really want me to go so soon?~” He stands and you hate how he towers over you, leaning in close, and his feline eyes flicker with what has to be predatory intent as he speaks. You’re annoyingly reminded of that other beastman in the botanical gardens. Are all beastmen like this?

You push him away despite the numbing soreness in your muscles, “I-I'll be fine-”

“Not with that ugly gash you won't~” he teases, and you’re seriously considering punching him in the face now. Maybe that will get him to- “Trey really did a number on ya, huh?”

“Wait, what did you say?” While your memory had been hazy due the nasty fall you took down the stairs, you remember being completely alone with Grim and you remember feeling exhausted as you climbed the stairs, so the reason you fell had to be that you passed out from being so fatigued. How the hell was Trey involved with this?

Chenya looks at you as if he didn’t know what he just said, “What did I say?”

“Are you kidding me-” You bit back a sigh of frustration, “ You just said that Trey did a ‘number’ on me. W-What did he do?”

“Oh, you still haven't figured it out yet?” You bit your tongue to stifle the no-shit response you were about to spit in annoyance. “Well, I'll give you a hint. Three times you'd taken what he's given you, none the wiser to what's hidden within.” Your mind halts, and you freeze. “Oh? Seems you figured it out~”

And figure it out you did. 

If Chenya’s hint held any water, Trey had… had drugged you with the desserts he'd given you. And according to Chenya, he did it three times. That part feels the most unbelievable because you hadn’t even noticed a difference. Sure, your exhaustion those three times were strange. But they all happened on days you had a lot of things happening that day, driving you to the edge of over-exertion in a way you thought was natural. 

As you recall, the first time you were too tired to even walk or act like a functional human being was after you ate some of the chestnut tart way back then. You were so tired that Deuce had to carry you all the way back to your dorm and you were asleep before your head hit the pillow, but you'd just attributed  that to you being exhausted from being tired from what Ace pulled the night before.

Then there was after Riddle’s overblot when Trey gave them to you as an apology for his inaction. You and Grim had eaten them and both of you were fatigued and ready to sleep in seconds. And now, Grim had eaten almost all of them and you'd taken only one bite out of one of them. The second time you completely finished one and the third time you'd only had a bite, but both times you'd become so exhausted walking felt like too much work.

Has Trey drugged you all three times? But how? Ace should have seen it the first time and said something, and if he didn't, how did Trey manage to hide it from him? Additionally, the last time you ate those possibly drugged treats, why did you wake up sooner than the last two times? Before you slept like a baby through the night, and now you wake up with the sky still as dark outside as it had been when you came back.

And the most baffling question, why did he even do it in the first place? You remember him saying something about taking better care of yourself, but you brushed that off and attributed that to him being concerned because you'd thrown yourself into a blot monster that afternoon. Was… was wanting drugging you under the guise of sweet delicacies so that he could ‘take care of you'?

You shudder at the thought of it. Winston was right in saying that they wouldn’t be upfront about it. Trey had played the gentle vig brother while drugging you thrice and it took Chenya telling you directly to your face for you to finally notice.

Wait a second. How did Chenya know that? You meet him only after Riddle threw you all out, how did he know that Trey drugged you the first time. “Wait, how did you know that he drugged me back then?” 

“I always visit Trey on his baking days, I adore slipping sweets into my paws when no one's looking. Seeing you trying to help your little friends was just a nice lil surprise~” 

So Chenya had just been ‘around’ way before you officially met him. Why he never introduced himself or anything is lost on you, but now isn’t the time to ask about that. Though you do mutter, “How did I not notice that…” One of Chenya’s ears twitches and then he laughs. It’s a good, hard laugh that makes Chenya’s eyes squeeze tight in glee. It’s not anything malicious sounding or mocking sounding, moreso cheeky but it sends the gooseflesh on your skin to prick up. It makes you ask, “W-What’s so funny?”

Chenya cracks an eye open, before chuckling. “No offense, but you're not as perceptive as you think you are. You don't notice a lot of things. Like what Trey, Riddle and the other three planned on doing to the guys who attacked you.” 

What? “W-What do you mean?” You already know that you’ll dread the answer, but your curiosity was peaked. What in the Great, well given what you saw earlier not-Great, Seven did he mean by that?! You had hoped that with Riddle’s new outlook on the rules, he would have been slightly more lax with punishments. Was saying that you wanted him to go back to his old ways just for those two going to end horribly. Oh shit, what did you do!? “What did they plan?!”

A cheshire grin forms on Chenya’s face. “Nuh uh, no more help from me, _____!” 

“B-but.. You just-” 

Chenya purrs. His eyes full of mischievous intent worsening your bad feeling. “If you want to find out, you’ll have to go there yourself~” 

You feel a cold feeling cover you, trying to envelope you tightly in its icy embrace. You don’t trust this one bit, and the chill around you feels as if it’s goading you to make a bad decision. “Go where? To… Heartslabyul?” 

“Nope!” Well, now you were just confused. “Not to. Behind.” You fight the annoyed eye-roll as he just re-words it. Probably after seeing your annoyed look, he grants you the tiniest possible explanation. “There’s something special happening that might pique your interest. In the rose maze tonight some bad little students are going to be punished, and it’s where you’ll find the answers you want… Or maybe they’ll be ones you don’t. I’m not sure.” 

You contemplate on that decision. You could either take his advice and go find out, or you could ignore this. You’re not really sure. If Trey had lied and betrayed your trust, had the others? All Riddle had told you was that they’d be punished appropriately, but he never explained what his punishment was going to be. Had they planned something behind your back, something you deserved to know? 

And if this was just a prank from Chenya to get a laugh, were you really going to risk going outside of the safety of Ramshackle? Potentially jumping out of a frying pan into the flame of the dorm at night full of two, or maybe five people obsessed with you? Staying here would be your best option in that case, safe inside four walls you have control over. But what if what happened would endanger you in the future, making things infinitely worse for you?

You’re going to regret this either way, aren’t you…..

 *                    *                    *

“You can do this, _____. Let’s get this over with…” you mutter, stepping out of the Hall of Mirrors and into the cool summer air. The Heartslabyul dorm in front of you, the lights streaming out of the windows being the only thing that illuminates the dark, cloudy night. Every step you’d make in the direction of Heartslabyul feels like a mistake that you were sure to continue making, but even with your frayed nerves, your curiosity had gotten the better of you. “You still there?”

“Certainly~”, Chenya’s bodiless head fades back into view. “Shall we~? The longer we dawdle, the closer your chance slips, slipping, slipped away~” 

You’d left Ramshackle with nothing but a dull kitchen knife tucked under the waistband of your clothes and a prayer. And also Chenya. Coming to Heartslabyul  in the dark, cold night, with all your logic and self-preservation instincts already telling you to go back to your dorm and calling this night a net loss. Chenya was supposed to be, emphasis on supposed to be since you had no idea on whether or not he was even there when he wasn’t visible; right next to you with you occasionally feeling the ghost of a feather-light touch on your skin. With so many half-assed precautions, you had one question in the back of your mind. 

And the question you wanted to have answered was, Were you friends, all of the people you’d once hoped to have a strictly platonic relationship with until you got home, as bad as the Queen of Hearts?

You had Winston’s words in the back of your mind, recalling his own recount of the day he accidentally got someone killed when he requested his assaulter be punished fairly.  

<I wanted them to be punished fairly and that’s what I told her. She got very calm suddenly, and then she smiled and said that she understood…>

<M-mary tried to hide it from me, but someone led me to the castle’ punishment room….>

<I got there in time to…. to watch him…. To watch him lose his head…>

At this point, your subconsciousness was starting to mimic your reality all too much. While it was marginally appreciated for what good it did you when dealing with Riddle’s mental breakdown/overblot, with what you saw and heard from Winston, the very idea that your friends would commit murder was one that filled your mind with fear and dread. 

It wasn’t only because of the idea that two people could get murdered over something completely pointless, or that you might have unintentionally killed two people; but the idea that your friends could be murderers over something so pointless. If that was what they were prepared to do over something so minimal, what would they do over something drastic?! What would they do if you had made the choice, and mistake, of rejecting them, or running away where they couldn’t find you?

With all those thoughts in your mind, you were willing to confront the risk. Even if there was a chance that your curiosity would prove to kill the figurative cat, you'd only know that if you went. So, into the belly of the beast you went. 

“Hurry up and fade away, I don’t want anyone catching us,” You order, shivering from your rising anxiety and the chilling air. The cool chill of the summer night sends icy chills up and down your spine as you sneak, hopeful that none see you or the disembodied head, into the darkened maze. 

Despite the fact you already committed to it, you already are regretting this decision. Sure, you’re being led by Chenya’s directions, but the rose maze is dark, barely lit by the small garden lights sparsely scattered here and there, and it’s full of twists and turns and dark corners that make you feel like someone’s going to jump out of nowhere and-

You take a deep breath and lightly slap yourself, with how suddenly the Queen of Hearts appeared out of nowhere where you felt moderately safe with Winston, your already frayed nerves are very on edge. “Stop thinking like that, me…” 

“Aww~ Is something gnawing at that little mind of yours~? Do tell, I simply adore a good dilemma~” 

“I can’t really- I haven’t really told anyone about it.” Because it’s so crazy to think about, being throw into another world with it’s fucked up morals by pure happenstance and then being thrown into another world, the past mind you, that shows you how the world got so fucked up, “You probably wouldn’t believe me.”

“C’mon, try me. You might be surprised by what I believe~” 

You debate it. There could be something to gain from you, telling someone else. “W-Well-” 

You’re interrupted by a loud “GAH!” of pain echoing through the bushes, followed by the disgusting sound of bone crunching and splitting, now followed by another cry of pain. Someone that you have a feeling that you sort of know, whimpers like a wounded animal. Your curiosity gets the better of you and you advance, hiding in the opening of another of the maze’s passages….. and finding something you hoped not to see, but expected. 

You have to bite your tongue hard to stifle the noise you almost let out. You taste warm blood spill upon it, and at the sight you saw, and you barely hold back your bile. 

Ace and Deuce are walking deeper and deeper into the maze, which is barely illuminated by what has to be a phone's dim flashlight, dragging two bloody human shaped lumps that you called your attackers. You stumble back and clamp a hand over your mouth before your gasp of shock and horror. 

The two delinquents are alive? They have to be considering the noises they’re making but you could have been fooled by how bloody, swollen and bruised their faces are. Their clothes, likely the same ones they beat you up in, are stained with their own blood. They look like they were beaten half to death. You have to swallow back the other noises of horror and shock. 

Hadn’t you specifically told Ace and Deuce to NOT do this!? Why had they done this, beating two people half to death after specifically telling them not to?! And what the hell were even doing out here?! 

In your spiralling, you accidentally step back onto a random, and incredibly inconvenient dry twig. The snapping is so loud in your ears you feel like it echoes across the whole world. 

The time it takes for Ace to look over his shoulder in just enough time for you to duck behind the wall, and you can only hope he didn’t see you in the time you took to hide. Unfortunately the rustling of leaves gives you away. Your blood freezes as soon as you hear, “What the hell was that?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Something’s moving in the bushes.” There’s a loud thump as if Ace dropped the delinquent he was dragging, who groans weakly as his battered and bruised body hits the grass. “Stay here, I’m going to take a look.” Whatever Deuce said next doesn’t meet your ears as all you can hear is the blood unfreezing and roaring in your head as adrenaline floods your veins. You’re frozen stiff and unable to move. What if they find you?! 

Your mind slows to a screeching halt. Your adrenaline is freezing you stiff rather than pushing you to run. Your body feels like it’s stuck in the ground and held by cement. To make your already high blood pressure shoot to the cosmos, an arm wraps itself around your waist and drags you into the darker depths of the maze. It’s Chenya, your racing mind provides, and you send a silent thank you into the air as Ace sticks his head into the hedge walls. To your utter relief, he doesn’t seem to notice you.

Which is good. Because you were too busy noticing the most horrifying part of seeing him. 

Ace’s expression is nonchalant as he stares into the darkness searching for you unknowingly.  The face of the first human friend you ever made here stares right through you. And they look calm but suspicious, looking fine with the smudge of blood staining his skin and his uniform. Even in the dark you can see the tell tale colour of crimson, smudged on his face as if he tried to wipe it off at some point but there nonetheless and  from the moans of quiet agony seeping through the hedges that hide you from view. His hands are bare, and the skin on his knuckles are split and bloody. Your gut sinks with despair.

“Anything there?” Deuce’s voice drags you back to reality, but doesn’t help the new influx of adrenaline pumping through your veins. 

Ace steps away from the opening in the wall, disappearing back into the maze. You have no choice but to release a much needed sigh of relief. “Nah. I must’ve imagined it.” You hear the sounds of Ace yanking up that poor white haired delinquent, the groans of pain filling the air in a higher pitch, the steps and sounds of dragging fill the silent summer night, before fading into darkness.  

“Oh, mew almost got caught… Curiosity almost killed the cat, Nya?” You ignore Chenya’s words, pushing yourself back up and into the opening of the maze Ace had just been standing. After getting no response, he then asks, “Are you still curious, _______?”

“A little.” You swallow roughly, hoping to force the discomfort filling you back down. You could always cry it out later, and your curiosity demands you learn the whole scope of this. All you have to do is follow the trail of blood in the grass and dirt. No pressure…“J-Just warn me  if anyone comes close.”

After seeing Ace’s face stained with another person’s blood, your heart has lodged itself into his throat and you can’t stifle the curiosity, so you and an invisible Chenya trail after them, a quiet distance away. You can hear the noises of pain from the two and their pain filled pleas as you follow, but their noises only earn more fists or kicks to their already bleeding faces and their beaten bodies. 

Trailing after them yields fruit in your worrying venture, as you follow Ace and Deuce and their two victims to a large, well-lit, opening in the maze. You move to follow them but-

“I’m aware that I let you have your way with them but at the very least, either of you could at least tried to not track blood through the garden!” You freeze in your steps at the new, but unfortunately painfully familiar, voice. It’s Riddle’s.

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist."” Ace’s nonchalant reply is what finally sells running away for you. 

Out of all the things you weren’t prepared for upon coming to a world that you didn’t even know existed until a couple days ago, you weren’t prepared to watch someone actually die. Not today, not ever. “I’m leaving”  you hiss, careful to not raise your voice loud enough to let your voice be heard. 

But like a monkey wrench thrown into the works, Chenya's head reappears, his Cheshire grin back and more unsettling than it was before. “Aww, but you came so far are you going to turn back now?” You genuinely don’t even know. You want to leave, remembering the early horrors you'd dreamt of and already seen, and you can’t help but feel that maybe it's time to make a tactful retreat. Time to go back home to Ramshackle and forget this night ever happened, and hope that the two people are potentially about to die in whatever cruel way they might and somehow survive. 

“I-” Chenya, for some reason seems hellbent on you scarring yourself for life. You’re starting to feel a little bit like Winston in a bad way…..

Because once again like an idiot, you let him guide you to an opening in the hedges large enough to peek through but small enough to not draw any attention. Your adrenaline and fear induced curiosity was going to be the death of you it seemed, because as you peek through a tiny gap in the hedges, you have to instantaneously recoil. 

Your friends are here, obviously you already knew that, but it was the new things that struck a chord of terror through your heart. Sparkling from the light of the maze’s lanterns and the moonlight is an ornate executioner’s block with a bright red, heart-shaped axe. It’s clean of blood, but something tells you that won’t be for long. 

Alongside that, you can see the complete and utter destruction that Ace and Deuce rained on those two people’s bodies. Their faces are beaten and bruised to the point their eyes are swollen shut and crying blood, their uniforms are dirty with red and brown, red from the blood and brown from the mud their bodies had been dragged through like garbage. You feel remorse and self-hatred for being the one to cause this from your angered ravings. 

You manage to tear your attention off your rising panic and back to the conversation you’d tuned out in your fear. You tune back in, right in time for Riddle and Ace’s argument to dissolve. “Regardless, you certainly did a number on them.” All Riddle gives that unfortunate pair a raised eyebrow of disgust as they groan. 

Cater looks a mix of annoyed and bored as he stares down at the two on the ground, pausing only to snap some pics of their beat up faces for a reason you can’t fathom. “Hey, just wondering are you guys going to just keep stalling or are we actually going to murder them?”

Trey looks as sick of the two innocent people they’re about to behead, and you can’t even connect how cruel he looks now to that same comforting warmth from earlier. “We might as well, the sooner we’re done with them the sooner we don't breathe the same air as them.”

The white haired one manages to find the energy to raise his head. His face is so swollen and bloody, you wonder how he even found it to begin with.  You can’t help but pity him, as he looks up at Riddle  in confusion.“D-Dorm Leader? Why-” 

Riddle doesn’t give them a moment to figure out whatever is going to happen to them. Instead of answering the victim he chose to torture like this, Riddle recites the charges of their crime with such nonchalance and coldness that you’re reminded of the tyrant he used to be. “You both will be punished in accordance with Rule 810 of the Queen of Hearts: Should someone try to take one’s most precious person, by theft or by harm, they should pay an unpayable price.” 

Your heart leaves your throat and pluments through your gut and deep into the ground. Hadn’t Cater explained that rule was one of the most important rules the dorm had? The one rule that was strictly enforced even before Riddle’s arrival and tyranny?  He hadn’t told you the details, but you assumed it was something about fighting and picking on the weak or something borderline rational.

Then again, Riddle had told you that the rule was amended after an incident. An incident that you likely had just bore witness to. And if your memory served you well, it was the last rule she ever made. Had Winston’s escape, believed to be caused by Alice, caused the original rule to be changed?

 The two delinquents' eyes, whichever ones weren’t swollen shut, widen in utter horror. The white haired one makes a desperate plea to save his own skin and you let out a silent prayer hoping it works. “We didn’t hurt her that badly. W-We’re sorry!” The apology does nothing to calm the silent, boiling hot fury among them. You already know that even if they give those unfortunate two the ‘privilege’ of  receiving a reply from them, the next words out of their mouths wouldn’t be one of forgiveness. As you predicted, a chilling silence follows.

Now realising their pleas aren’t working, the red haired one musters the courage to speak and try and plead his case. “B-But we didn’t–” But Deuce doesn’t even give the luxury of finishing his sentence, smashing his fist into the red haired one's face so hard you can hear the loud crack of their bones breaking. When all you can hear and muffled groans of pain you come to the horrified conclusion that Deuce broke their jaw. 

Your once determined, hard-working, if a little bit dull friend only wipes the blood that stained his face without a modicum of empathy. Even from here, you can feel the silent fury that emanates from him. Anger that you once encouraged. 

“L-Listen Dorm Leader, we’re sorry. We won’t do it again. Just l-let us go.” The one still able to speak begs, but you can’t see even the slightest bit of hesitation on even one of your five friends' faces. You once hoped to hear those two words from those two after they’d appropriately learned not to mess with you. But instead, you hear them say it as the rest of their lives look much shorter than any of them could have wanted.

Riddle’s strict and cold look is just as he did when he was the Dreaded Crimson Tyrant he was a few days ago,  just like you’d asked him to be again. Instead of sparing them. “I would tell you to learn something from this, but you won’t be able to do much of anything in a few moments.”

So they’re dead. They’re going to die…

You want to will your body to do something, to run in there and intervene, or get help or just stop the madness about to happen. But you know that you can’t, no matter how much you deeply want to. 

Because revealing that you knew about this ‘secret’ is what got Winston a life of hell with his wife. You’d see the results of Winston’s revealing what he knew and the disaster that it gave Winston after it shattered the illusion of delightful companionship for the Queen, and sent his life into a downturn. And that precious illusion was one that the five of your friends were attempting to maintain, likely for their benefit and your suffering. The lie of a free choice was what would keep you rooted to the ground as the twisted show continues on before you. 

The execution begins, as Trey takes the axe from the block with ease. The sharpened blade sparkles in the moonlight. The gentle, comforting big brother visage is gone as Trey hefts the axe over his head, Cater holds down the unfortunate and visibly terrified delinquent. You can feel every muscle in your body brace for impact. 

A clean swishing sound fills the air followed by the sickening gush of blood and the crack of bone makes you squeak in terror. Silence follows, and then the quick, panicked grunting of the still living one realizing his inescapable fate. The first had lost his head, you don’t want to look at it. Tears prick your eyes as you struggle to stop yourself from bawling from the rush of fear and horror. 

And unfortunately for you, a noise loud and clear in the silent garden slips from your lips. You panic, quickly smothering the sound as fast as you can. But you can hear the silence in the execution grounds.

Followed by a loud, animalistic shriek of pain as Deuce punches the still living one clean across the face, smashing the already broken bones into dust under his fist and knocking out the poor man’s teeth. “Be quiet.” Deuce hisses so coldly that it makes shiver and tremble.

You’re thankful that they only heard it as a pain-filled noise from the still living victim, for all of three seconds once you put together that his suffering is increased because of the noise you made. You just kept making it worse for them, didnt you? One’s dead now because you had said too much and the other keeps suffering because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. This just keeps getting worse. 

“Hey wait a sec.” The sound of Ace’s hesitation makes your heart swell with hope. Maybe this wasn’t going to end as badly as you thought it was. It was horrible, and deeply devastating that an innocent person had to die first but by comparison one death was still better than two. “Let me get rid of this one.”

You spoke too soon. Damn it.

“Hm? You wanna off this one? Why tho?” 

“I was sort of powerless when these douches popped up the first time. And now, ______’s got her nose broken. ” Ace's usual carefree tone voice drops to a tone of ice cold rage. “Let me do this one.”

Deuce is still so angry that his face doesn’t show how hurt he was that he couldn’t protect you like he did earlier. But even from here you can see how he’s a little angry with himself that he allowed you to be put in harm’s way, you feel the same for a different, more justifiable reason. 

There’s silence for a few minutes, then Riddle says, “Fine, I’ll allow it. Trey.” Trey hands the ax to Ace, and you can watch the smile you once had thought was playful turns malicious. Trey instructs him as you try your damndest to tear your eyes away from the innocent victim that lies stuck as the other eyes of this sinister court prepare to witness his final moments.

The poor delinquent’s head is strapped into the same bloody leather cuff that his friend died in, and despite whatever pain he’s feeling, you can hear the pained whimpers he’s letting out in an attempt to plead for his life. He’ll be paid no heed. 

As Ace lifts the ax, you manage to tear your eyes away from the hole in the hedge, squeezing your eyes shut and clamping your hands tightly over your mouth, you’ll hear all the noises but maybe that’s what you deserve. At the very least, he doesn’t get to have the one that sentenced him see him die. Maybe it allows the other one to die with dignity. Or maybe not, because you didn’t even know their name. 

You flinch as the next crack of bone. And then, bite back a miserable sob as the wet ‘shlick’ of the axe cutting and slicing cleanly through muscle and other tissue echoes through the air. And then gasping in between silent sobs as the thud of the axe on the executioner’s block and the heavy thud of the head falling off the stump and metal rattle of it hitting the metal bucket. You fight the urge to shriek in terror horrified by the noises of death being mimicked unwillingly by the second as you hear the thump of a head rolling free of its neck a second time.

Another innocent lost. If your heart wasn’t beating so fast, and you weren’t struggling to keep quiet so hard maybe you would hear what they were saying clearer. You hang your head in your hands, and whimper as softly as you can. You don’t know how long you sit there. 

A sound resonates as if Riddle’s lifting the head to appreciate the handiwork of his punishment, before the head falls back into the bucket with a heavy clang, “There, _______ will be happy to know they’ve both been punished appropriately in accordance with Rule 810.” You aren’t, and if someone told you thinking that, you would have ran for your life, “Now all that is left is to get rid of the remains.”

“Oi, why do we have to do that?” 

“Shut up, Ace…. The sooner I don’t have to see them the better.”

Despite Deuce’s words, Ace doesn’t shut up, “Geez, you’re still such a tyrant, man…” Despite becoming a murderer, Ace still jokes and acts like a smartass, choosing to ignore the fact he’s probably still holding a murder weapon. 

You hear Riddle’s sharp intake of breath, “I should-!”

“Ah ah ah. If ______ finds out you punished me unfairly, I don’t think she’ll like you very much. Don’t want to risk that, do we?” You honestly would have just handed him over, considering mischievous and playful Ace just wacked someone’s head clean off with an axe because he just happened to hold you down as the other beat you up. Or maybe you wouldn't. Your mind is too much of a mess right now. 

You can hear the tiny grumble of Riddle’s as he’s forced to be silent for the sake of you, and you only pray that Ace actually doesn’t get murdered for even insinuating that he’s important to you. 

Trey jumps into peace maker probably to prevent Riddle from actually killing Ace this time. “Hey now, we all agreed that we’d discuss our…. situation in the morning.” That was certainly a word for it, having five people you barely knew obsessed with you to the point of killing someone because they broke your nose. “While we all hate our unfortunate circumstances surrounding ______,” You can hear the veiled anger and discontent in Trey’s voice as he says that. “We all agreed we’d figure it out in the morning.”

“Let’s be real, that’s if we don’t go full feral and tear each other apart first. No matter what we pretend to agree on, we all want her for ourselves. And honestly? The tension is palpable.” You hate how honestly and darkly Cater says that, you hate how the crime scene of a murder somehow got darker when you became the main subject. Of course, they talked about you. Of course, they all realised at some point during their collective anger at the delinquents that they all believed that you were somehow collectively their darling. 

What would happen if they literally killed each other over you, would you maybe wake up to find one or more of them suddenly vanished. 

You can hear Trey’s sigh of annoyance, “We’ll deal with that tomorrow. Right now, let’s get rid of…” There’s a soft thudding sound as if Trey is kicking the remains of the delinquents with his shoe. “them”

“Trey is correct. While this situation is less than ideal,” The darker emphasis Riddle adds onto those final three words sends another shover down your spine, “we will have time to discuss this in the morning. For now, let us be rid of the remains, before the maze is overrun with vermin.”

“And since you were so delighted to emphasize your role as ______ ‘favorite’” Once again, you can hear the anger and jealousy in Riddle’s voice as he drags that final word out, “ you wouldn’t mind cleaning this mess all up? After all, as her ‘clear favorite’ handling this must mean the words to you.”

Maybe earlier today, you would have laughed at Ace getting properly put in his place, now you can only feel numb. You can’t even laugh at Ace's noise of indignation, or at Deuce’s snarky statement, that he was on his own. There’s nothing you can enjoy. 

Especially with the sounds of heavy unliving flesh, being maneuvered like garbage into the burlap. The noises made as the bucket of human heads are emptied into the sack. You can only shudder as you bite your lips bloody to prevent another sound from leaving your mouth. 

What is there to do now? Two people are already dead. Do you just slink back to your dorm, like you weren’t even here tonight, and go to sleep like nothing happened?! Like no one died or begged for their lives. 

You can hear the shuffling of the burlap cease, and Deuce asks, “Dorm Leader, what exactly are we going to do with the bodies?” Bodies, because they’re no longer people. Because those two delinquents are just objects to be thrown away now…

“You’ll just bring them to the shed where we keep all of the garden’s supplies. While these two might have been lousy students have even lousier morals,” What a hypocritical thing to say after ordering two people to have their heads cut off. “At the very least we should be able to get some decent quality paint and feed out of them.” What the hell… what the hell did that mean?!

An “I don’t get ya.” from Ace doesn’t even begin to match your own scared curiosity. 

“What Riddle means to say, “ Trey interjects to explain, his voice calm as if he hadn’t just cut someone’s head off and instructed Ace on how to do it, “is that we use the remains, to make paint for the roses and food for the hedgehogs. For some reason, they really like the meat.” 

You have to choke back bile along with your tears. Disgust joins the pile of horrible emotions churning in your head and now in your stomach. Oh, sweet seven had Grim eaten human flesh when he ate the hedgehog food. You squeeze your eyes tight, begging to wake up from this nightmare, but you aren’t and now you have to choke back another wave of nausea. 

“Ah, alright, that’s…. What, we do what?!” You’re too numb from shock to be happy that Ace agrees with you on the utter horror that the remains are used for such disgusting things. 

And then Cater makes it worse, “FYI, we have full creative freedom with corpse disposal. This is our dorm’s time-honoured tradition. Yeah, it’s nasty but you don’t have to like it, but you’ve gotta deal with it. And the other dorms have way worse disposal methods. BTW: do not piss off anyone in Savanaclaw unless you’re tryna become someone’s midnight snack.” 

How could you have forgotten that crimes like fucking murder was legal on this island. Stomach acid burns the back of your throat. It’s like the longer you stay, the more you were punished for coming here in the first place. Why didn’t you just stay where you were?!

Whatever else they say becomes unintelligible to your brain, your mind too high on adrenaline to make sense of whatever they said. Because you can’t stay here any longer. You just can’t, just  sitting here alone in the dark hearing the drip by drip of blood pooling onto the stone and grass. 

With violently shaking hands, you clamber to your feet like a baby deer on their legs for the first time. Despite the shakiness, you run as fast as you can back into the maze, internally praying that no one heard you. You don’t care where you run.

Anywhere is fine when it’s far from the two people you are responsible for killing. 

*                    *                    *

Running aimlessly through a maze with the current racing heartbeat of a frightened gazelle and a head full of panicked, terrifying and agonizing thoughts, is in hindsight not a good idea. 

You would stumble and fall half a dozen times, as you followed the trail of your victims’ blood back through the maze. The now dry blood didn’t stick to your shoes, but it might as well have. It wouldn't have been split if not for you. On one of your falls the icy chill of the knife would press lightly, but still too deep, slicing your skin slightly but enough to make you bleed. You slapped a palm onto the now bleeding wound, and kept running. 

What else could you do?

You had just seen your ‘friends’ gang up on two injured people and just killed them, and were preparing to desecrate the remains of those two just to ‘make it up to you’. If you had just kept your mouth shut, none of this would have happened. 

You run all the way back to your dorm, trying to force down your tears and nausea, hoping that this was just a nightmare that you would wake up from…

No such luck.

As soon as you’re back in the ‘safety’ of the dorm's gates,you tremble violently. Every breath you take makes your chest stutter, as if every gulp of air in your poor lungs felt like it was your last. You felt like collapsing, dying even. 

The haze of your thoughts become clear again, like fog parting and fading away. The two delinquents, two innocent people who committed a crime not worthy of this kind of punishment, were murdered because you decided to not keep your mouth shut. Were going to be turned into literal paint and animal feed, because they had the gaul to lash out against you. Were punished….just like Winston had told you…..just like Winston saw.

You feel like you’re having an out of body experience, You want to be sick. Bile rises into your throat and burns the tongue. Your friends’ smiling faces are stained with innocent blood in your mind. Disgust, fear and guilt course through you to the point it numbs you from all else. Your legs turn to jelly and they buckle as you spiral. 

You fall onto your knees, still in that grieving, self-pitying daze. The nausea finally gets to you  and you retch, throwing up violently into the barely living bushes of Ramshackle. The sight of torn flesh, all that blood…… you spit whatever excess stays in your mouth as you fight to control your body’s functions.

“Oh, how curious~ Seems you didn’t like what you saw?~” Chenya’s voice sounds from behind you and you turn in time to find him standing over you as his body fades back into view. You’d forgotten he was even with you. He pulls you off the ground and into his arms. After all the stress and fear whirlwind you just experienced, you cry softly in Chenya’s warm embrace. You want to ignore him, as he keeps talking his cryptic nonsense but- “See, mew really couldn’t take it, hmm? Just think, if you’d never gone poking about, you wouldn’t be trembling at the thought of your friends~” -your mind slams into a brick wall as you realise something.

You pull away from the no longer comforting hug, to ask, “W-Why didn’t you do anything?” Chenya tilts his head as if he’s confused, so you clarify, “Y-You were with me the whole time… I-I know that I asked you to stay hidden but… couldn’t you have tried to save them? Y-You could have tried to, right?” 

Chenya doesn’t respond to that. 

His face blank of any of the mischief or his easygoing nature that it had a moment ago. Your gut twists in new anxiety, another dose of realization hits you at his silence and what Winston had said to you back in your dreams,‘~someone led me to the castle’ punishment room…~ Had that someone been the Cheshire Cat? And had you made an even worse mistake by trusting him to begin with!?

Your heart beats like it’s about to fail, and you try to pull away from Chenya’s hold completely but he holds you still. Now both panicked and infuriated, you scream in outrage, ““Why didn’t you do anything? You could have tried to help them out at any time. Why……Why didn’t you?!”

As if realizing your own realization, Chenya’s expression changes back to the complete opposite to how you feel. Carefree, unbothered as if he wasn’t there to watch two people beg for their lives, he finally answers with a now terrifying look on his face. “Heehee, ‘cause they’d have chopped me to bits, you curious little thing~”

“B-but you’re Riddle and Trey’s friend, they wouldn’t-” Shit no. “They wouldn’t….right?” You’re praying to whatever gods this world has for you to be right, Chenya only tilts his head with a thoughtful expression for a few agonising moments. 

“Nah, they would. Riddle would chop my catty little head clean off, and Trey would make me into pie if they found out I showed you that.” He smiles all too calm as he says that. His tail swishing peacefully from side to side as if nothing is wrong. 

“Then why did you tell me to go?!” Chenya was the reason you even went here to begin with. If he had told you about what they were planning, you never would have gone there to begin with. 

But Chenya doesn’t answer. “Then why!?” You yell. 

Chenya gives you a cheshire smile and an equally eerie laugh, which feels as small and helpless as a mouse in a mousetrap. “Didn't ya say that you want your friends to protect ya? Didn't ya say that you want your friends to be honest with ya? I only did what was right, and what you wanted. I peeled away the curtain, revealing the truth! Even showed you how dangerous they allare~ Isn’t that exactly what you wanted~?.”

“What the hell are you-” You’re immediately struck with the reminder of your earlier conversation with  Ace and Deuce when you hoped that they would now be honest with you. Because you wanted to feel safe. Chenya can be invisible. You felt the same feather light touch gracing your skin in the rose maze, he was there. And he heard you when he was invisible in the garden. “You were in the garden….earlier today”

“Mh hm!” Chenya nods excitedly. “Heard you wanted your friend to be normal, and I’m not normal. So I hadta make sure that you wouldn’t ever see them as normal again. And I like you. And, and I want you to like me! Did I do a good job?” He tilts his head playfully, like a cat trying to curry favour. 

Realization hits you in a cold wave. Chenya’s…. “You’re like them…” He's obsessed with you too, like they are. 

“Uhm mhm.” Chenya hums with a nod. 

And suddenly, his arms are around your waist holding your face uncomfortably close to his. “But don’t worry, I won’t hurt ya. Or anyone else,  I’m not allowed to kill anyone like everyone at NRC.” 

You try to shove yourself away but your attempts prove fruitless against Chenya's strong arms. “L-Lemme go.” He shakes his head. “Let me go!” you say more harshly, struggling your hardest to pull away and get out of his reach. 

“Nuh uh.” Chenya’s grip on you is tighter as you fight to get away.

With no choice and adrenaline coursing through your blood affecting your judgement, you change tactics. “Why me? Why me out of all the people in this world”

“Because you feel right. Holding ya makes me feel like my soul is whole again. And you smell nice. Better than alla Trey’s food.” To emphasize his point, Chenya buries his nose into the crook of your neck and takes a deep breath, sighing in satisfaction as he pulls away. “Yeah, and better than all the flowers in all that shop back home”. 

You remember what Trey said about darlings. Like being apart from them is like the other half of your soul is being torn from your body. But five, well now six, can’t be in the slightest bit normal, even for this world. 

Chenya keeps talking. “Following ya was fun. Especially since you smell so nice. You don’t even notice me.” How long was he following you? When did he start following you?!

“How-” He shushes you before you can finish your sentence. 

“Don’t worry about how, how is the brother of why and the cousin of but. And cousin but says you don’t hafta to be a darling for me to love ya, _____.”

“What….but I thought-”

“We just call you guys that because you mean so much to us. Darling or not, we’ll still love you.” Chenya pauses for a split second and you can feel your heartbeat boom so fast in your ears in anticipation that it’s deafening. “But no offense, you’re not fooling anyone.”

Your mind scrambles as you struggle to comprehend the mess of what you’d been told. This web of confusion gets worse the longer you spend caught in it. “But….why? Why are you all okay with killing someone if it means I’m safe or yours?”

“Because.”

“W-What?”

“Don’t think I didn’t wanna get rid of them too. They made your pretty blood come out.” Chenya’s cat-like eyes narrowed predatorily, “I wanted to watch them suffer.” 

But you didn’t. Not to this extent at least. You just wanted them to regret it for a little while, not having them live to regret it for what would be the rest of their short lives.“I-I need to do something, anything. I-” you stammer. You need to do something, need to tell Crowley or something, anything else!

Chenya cocks his head to the side in confusion, and that mischievous glint in Chenya’s eyes becomes backlit by a dark expression. “Why? Do you feel bad for ‘em?”

“Yes! Why the hell wouldn’t I-” Once again, Chenya interrupts you. Again, he brushes off your righteous anger and sadness. 

“You shouldn’t, wasn’t it what they deserved all along?” He boops you on the nose, smiling as he justifies the brutal murder of two innocents, “They went and smashed your poor nose after all. Forget about 'em.”

You’re struck dumb from shock. The complete void of human empathy that he, no, that all of them have is just horrible. And the fact he’s trying to convince you out of it is gut-wrenching. But no matter what he, or anyone else would or could say, you… just feel terrible. Because this feels like it was entirely your fault. 

Two people had been brutalized because you in a fit of rage ranted and raved about them being punished to the fullest extent. You had just been angry. The worst thing that you thought was going to happen was something somewhat logical and fair. Like them being suspended, or being forced to do the dorm’s hardest and most back breaking of chores. Not getting fucking murdered! Those two might have been complete assholes, but even complete assholes don’t deserve to pay in blood.

And the worst part?

It’s almost exactly like what Winston told you. An accident, whether intentional or not, committed by someone that did deserve to be punished fairly led to someone being beaten, beheaded and having their remains disrespected. And it was your fault, because you had made the critical mistake of telling all of them.

 Ace and Deuce, two people that had promised to treat you as you’d asked who then betrayed that and planned to do it behind your back. Trey, Cater and Riddle, all people you thought would have their own darlings who were not you, proceeded to prove you completely wrong as they too were obsessed with you. And then Chenya just had to add himself into this horrible mix.

You made the worst possible mistake. It’s all too much to process all at once. So you don’t. 

More specifically, you pass clean out into Chenya’s arms.

The Red King Holds A Bleeding Head.

The second your consciousness returns, all you can do is cry. The high of adrenaline has finally worn off, replacing it with pain and despair. The illusion of safety has finally dropped to reveal the true danger of your situation, and you can’t bear it. 

What did you do to deserve this? Being trapped in a world where people are truly monsters. You had thought Ace and Deuce would honor your request out of their love for you, but clearly you were woefully wrong, just like Winston had told you, they merely did it in the shadows like the Queen did. You had thought Trey, the gentle big brother figure that you thought he was, would never be capable of killing someone, much less using an axe to sever the head of an innocent man off their body without a care in the world, but he did. You didn’t think Cater would be able to torture someone, much less making jokes and posting about it on his Magicam, but he did. You didn’t think Riddle would break one of the most common laws by killing someone so brutally, but he did. They all did something you would never even think that they were capable of, and they’d spend the rest of their lives normally despite it. 

And their reasoning was, because those two had hurt you, they deserved to die. If you had just gone back to Ramshackle after those two confronted you, none of this would have happened. Those two delinquents would be alive and they probably would have just gotten their butts kicked without any of their spilt blood being used to paint the garden roses. You sob for the lives you’d unintentionally ended, because you never thought they'd sink that low.  This was your fault, because you were stupid. Because you were spiteful. 

And now two innocent lives were snuffed out. Because of you.

In your grief, you slam your fist against the floor in misery…

Only to feel something mushy make contact with your hand. 

Confused, you open your teary eyes to inspect whatever made contact with your hand. Only to be horrified at the sight of brown flesh, the stinking of decay staining your hand. This is the substance of decomposition, created out of human remains. You look down to find that your fist made contact with what remained of a human skull. Flesh still sticking to bone, and the face contorted in horror. 

You scream in terror, only for your other hand to make contact with something else, hard and brittle rather than squishy. You turn around to find that your other hand hit the flesh less remains of a human skull, the spinal cord severed at the neck, as if they’d been beheaded. 

In abject horror, you scan the floor where pile after pile of human heads, some decomposing, some just skulls and some whole, scattered across the tiny room. You put two and two together as bile floods the back of your throat. This is the cell Winston mentioned, and you realise in horror and grief that he was recaptured by the Queen of Hearts. While the room is dark, there’s a source of light behind you that actually helps you see all the heads scattered across the floor like a macabre ball pit. You hurriedly scan the room for the source of light, and in your haste-filled confusion, you spot something that makes your heart sink. 

A figure sits by candlelight, partially illuminated by a heart-shaped red flame. You recognise them to be Winston, and your heart fills with even more grief and pain as you realise that it means he was dragged back to the Queen’s palace. This must be the room that he begged to not be returned to. Heads in different states of decomposition surround him, red, or at least you think that’s what color they are, chains with heart shaped links chain him to the floor, clinking and rattling together as he moves them in his lap. Winston is murmuring something, unintelligible to you, to himself, whispered so softly that your ears can’t pick the words up. 

Either way, your failure, yours and his, is the most noticeable aspect. Winston failed to escape, that was the most miserable part of this whole room, possibly stuck permanently with his controlling, obsessive wife. Still, you realised the same trend in his story with real life. Maybe, there were more similarities. So, despite your nervousness, you call out to him. “Winston?”

Winston immediately shuts up. The chains stop rattling. Eerie silence fills the room. It lasts an eternity, and you can hear the barely audible sound of flame flickering over all else. It makes you anxious, and desperate to know what transpired while you were gone. “Winston? Can you answer me?” You try again, pushing for a reply from the now completely silent king. 

<.....I’ve really gone mad, haven’t I?> Winston’s first words fill the room with an oppressive atmosphere. Winston curls in on himself, continuing his painful monologue while sounding absolutely miserable, <...I thought the voices weren’t real, but you keep coming back. And I keep listening… None of this would have happened if I hadn’t listened.>

What… What had happened in the time you were gone? “Winston, I’m not fake, I’m real.” You try to reason, stepping closer to touch him and assure him of your existence. “What happened while I was gone? Did Alice escape?” She has to. The story ends with her returning home, and if she did, then it’s proof you have a way out. 

<Why do you keep coming back? Is she trying to punish me more?> Winston doesn’t answer you, instead continuing  his rant with his voice going from miserable to erratic. <Is this my punishment for being a disobedient husband?>

“Winston, you’re not. I’m- I was just trying to help you. I’m sorry.” You push your fingers just a few inches away from his back. 

Just before your fingers touch him, he says something that makes you freeze and your blood run ice-cold. <It is, isn't it. I should have obeyed her. She wouldn’t be dead…. If I had just obeyed her.>

Fear fills you, joining the mess of terror pooling inside you. You want to hope it’s not true, you send a silent prayer, pleading for it to not be true.  “W-Who wouldn’t be dead, if you obeyed her.”

Winston doesn’t answer this time, instead he turns to face you. And nothing more needs to be said. 

Rosy skin gone pallid. Terrified blue eyes rolled  to the back of her head. Blonde hair cut parallel to the stump of her neck with the ends stained and matted with drying blood. A face slumped lifelessly. Cradled tightly in the tender embrace of the Red King’s arms, held as gently as when a loving father holding his firstborn……

…..is Alice’s Decapitated Head.

You can’t even scream in terror as bile floods the back of your throat, silencing any scream like Alice had been so cruelly. You choke as you try to stop yourself from throwing up, your legs slipping out from underneath you as your body floods with horror. 

Alice never escaped. She died in Wonderland.

Images of the delinquents' decapitated heads flash into your vision in the place of Alice’s head. Horrific reminders of the deaths you caused silence you, and Winston starts talking again, making the pool of dread flood the rest of your body.

<I just wanted to save her. Just one. After all the others, I just wanted to save one.> Tears trail down Winston’s eyes as he speaks, squeezing the head closer to his body. His kingly garb stained a deep crimson in Alice’s blood. <If… If I had just been obedient, she wouldn’t have died. She wouldn’t have suffered. Like all the others.>

Winston’s ‘disobedience’ caused the deaths of so many people, all thrown away in here to be his reminder and this one on his lap was the latest addition. Alice would eventually rot and decay, just like all the others. 

<There were more, they rotted away… many years ago….. If I had just behaved, if I just gave in much sooner, none of them would be here.> As each word falls from his lips, you feel the crushing chain of dread lock around your throat like a noose and chaining you down like Winston is to the floor. You had unintentionally caused two deaths, Winston unintentionally caused dozens, maybe hundreds. 

A question pops into your mind despite the mental anguish, “Was…was the someone that led you to witnessing the first death…. The Cheshire Cat?”

<...> Winston is silent at first, and then, <....Yes.>

And that confirmed the reality of this. This mess, like yours, the mental anguish and grief that the both of you now were experiencing was because the obsessed took matters into their own hands and killing the innocent. With hindsight, you now can see just how much these deaths became the thing that broke him. Because you had seen two, and that already was breaking you.  The Red Queen used the deaths of innocents to manipulate and control her Red King until he gave into her and stopped fighting her abuse. Would that happen to you?

It felt like it already was…. but there was still one hope.

“B-But you can still escape, right?” You ask, trying to cling onto some semblance of hope in this horrific situation. There’s still the doorway he showed you. The locked one that required a magic key that he’d held onto for years.  “You have the key to the doorway, you can still escape at any-” 

<No, I can’t.> Chills race up and down your spine at the speed of light. 

“Why?” You ask, because it’s all you can say. 

<Because the key’s been destroyed.> Winston replies, his eyes blank and dead. As if saying that sentence sucked the life out of him. And similarly, it sucks the life, energy and whatever joy remains out of you. 

“W-What do you mean?” Winston raises his left hand, a new ring is wrapped over his finger. One that rests right above what you think is his wedding ring. And you recognise the jewel immediately. From the key he showed you. From the one and only key that unlocked the only exit from this world. 

Winston still explains, <Mary said that if I wanted to escape so much and if this key meant so much to me, then I could wear it forever. That it could become a sign of my love and faithfulness, and a reminder that she’ll never let me leave her.>

Horror twists violently in your gut. The one way out, the only way out that had proof that it could work had been destroyed. It had been destroyed centuries ago. There was no way out again. And you were trapped to experience the same horrible fate that Winston was experiencing. To be broken by their yanderes’ love.

<I can’t blame her for it. She’s the one that put up with me disobeying her for so long. And if I didn’t want her to execute anyone, I should have been a loyal and faithful husband, or should have stayed safe so she wouldn’t have to kill anyone to protect me.> Winston’s words chill you to your core. Terrify you of what he turned into, what you might be turned into, <No one dies if I stay. I… I keep her calm. And if I’m loving to her, she doesn’t get mad. If I do as she says, and love her… no one will get hurt.>

“I…I,” You struggle to find the right words to represent your despair. Your one way known way out was long gone, and Winston, over the course of four trips to the dream world, became the perfect sign what you’d become one day should you stay here. You feel as if you can’t breathe.

<If I love her, no one gets hurt.> Winston’s lips curl upwards into a strained yet crazed smile. <So, I’ll love her forever, so no one dies.> His expression is the picture of brokenness, of giving up in the name of survival, of being forced to go down a path that ends with you giving in and never returning home. 

“Y-You don’t have to-” You try to reason with him, to remind him that he doesn’t have to accept this kind of life. But his hands shoot and grasp at your neck so tightly that breathing is impossible. 

<Be quiet! You don’t understand!! I won’t suffer if I’m good!! I won’t be afraid if I do what she wants!!!> He yells whilst choking you, shaking you manically. A thump resounds to your right, as Alice’s head slips from off his lap. <I’ll be happy if I do what she wants! I’ll be happy if I love her!!>

And that’s what he screams over and over, his grip tightening with each scream. Soon you can’t make out words, or shapes or light. Your world fades to black, and you hope just a little bit that you don’t wake up. 

Alice will never Return Home.

Unfortunately, your hopes coming true and you aren’t something that go together. 

“Nya.. You’re back!” You open your eyes to find Chenya in front of you, staring down at you from the couch he’d probably laid you on. “Didja have a nice catnap?” You stay silent, still shaking from fear and horror from what you'd experienced. “Still not talking, huh?”

“Go away…” You murmur. You feel so miserable, all you want to do is crawl in a deep hole and stay there. You turn away until he’s completely out of your view. “Leave me alone…” Isolation might be the only thing that will keep you sane. Saner than Winston at least. You shiver at the idea of experiencing a relationship with a yandere to the extent of what he had. 

“Aww, you want me to leave? Nya, okay..” You can hear the whine and pout in his voice, but you’re just glad he’s going to be gone. “But just so ya know,” Chenya’s arms wrap tightly around your body, squeezing you in a hug with his head on your shoulder. “ Absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that. If ya ignore me for too long then I’ll really want to see you again, _____.”

Chills race up and down your spine from his words. Being far from them will push them to do whatever it takes to see you again. And that whatever might mean being taken against your will so that he can see you forever. 

Noticing your growing terror, he literally purrs out some words of ‘consolation’. “Aww, don’t be scared, I won’t be too far. Buh-bye _____~” The pressure of Chenya’s arms vanish, followed by his voice and his presence and now all you’re left with are Grim’s sleepy snores.

And after that, you break down. 

Your body is wracked with uncontrollable sobs. They’re so loud that they’re practically wails of misery. You shake with every sob, curled up into a tight and miserable ball on one of the couches. Your sobs echo through the walls of the condemned building, causing the ghosts to poke their heads out to check on you. But you just keep crying. 

Even when you run out of tears, even when your eyes and head burn, even when your throat aches from utter pain, you keep crying until your body is too tired to keep at it. And even then you whimper in your tight ball as you feel the exhaustion and despair finally set in. 

You crack your dry eyes open, staring at the blood that had dried against your palms. It’s yours from the wound on your head and small cut on your abdomen but the sight suddenly sickens you and you gag violently. You didn’t even get the opportunity to run to the bathroom with how much bile is spilling into your mouth, instead all the disgust you’ve felt in the last few hours ends up in the kitchen sink. But in the wake of your horrific day, this doesn’t even score. 

You scowl in distaste at the blood, grabbing the soap. and cranking the water to the hottest temperature, which isn’t that great but you’d rather stick your bloody hands into a basin of boiling water if it meant the blood could come off as fast as possible. You don’t give a damn about how much your skin burns. You need to get the blood off of you. Your skin burns to the touch as you violently scrub your face and arms, the wound on your head throbs but you don’t care. The sight, no, the thought of blood nauseates you. It reminds you of the two innocent people that just got exsanguinated to become rose paint and hedgehog food. 

Innocent blood. Two innocent people were dead, because of a bullshit reason. You can’t decide on whether to laugh or cry at the fact this entire mess started because of an egg yolk. Because you bumped into someone and broke a yolk, two people were just tortured and beheaded to have their blood be used to paint the Heartslabyul garden’s roses.

Despite your dehydration, tears well up in your eyes. None of this would have happened if you never came here, sure; but nothing would have been born out of this if you just accepted Trey’s offer, paid attention to where you were going or even kept your fat mouth shut. If you never did any of those things, those two people would have been alive! You didn’t even know what their names were, and now they were dead. DEAD.

The last of it finally, finally comes off, revealing too red skin. And then another wave of uncontrollable nausea hits you. You vomit right back into the kitchen sink. You can’t help it. Horror and disgust have taken root in your gut, growing like weeds and curling around your lungs and stomach. 

You sob miserably. Why did this have to happen to you? Why did this happen to them? And why, why did they have to drop you in a world which had its only known way out destroyed years ago. Probably centuries before NRC was even founded. You were trapped, hopelessly trapped. 

You don’t even have the strength to cry. All you can do is collapse onto the cracked linoleum. Your body sags from exhaustion, and you can’t even think of a plan or have even a semblance of optimism. Your spiraling thoughts are too stress-filled to think rationally. You don’t know how to react or who to turn to. 

It’s terrifying, disheartening even, that it's similar. The reality between you and Winston. Two people thrown into a whole new world with new excitements and dangers, both assuming that this world would just be a fun little side adventure only to realize that the people here are absolutely crazy and they’re not allowed to leave. It’s painful to realise, but it’s inevitable. 

Eventually exhaustion calms your whimpers. And though you’re already weary from your tears, you crawl back into the living area, where Grim was sleeping soundly right where you left him on the couch, unaware of the horrors you just experienced. You drag your fingers through his fur to comfort yourself, feeling his gentle heartbeat under your fingertips. You feel another trail of tears stream down your face as you’re reminded he wouldn’t be sleeping like death if Trey hadn’t poisoned the two of you. And you would have never known about the poisoning if Grim hadn’t eaten most of it. 

A part of you wishes you had just finished the drugged treats and never saw what you had seen, but it’s too late for that now. Regrets are all you have now. You sniffle as you wipe the runoff of tears and snot from your burning skin, still feeling as terrified and stressed as you did when you scrubbed a layer of your skin off. 

You can’t lie to yourself and say that you weren’t wrong about anything here. Because you had been wrong. So woefully wrong. 

If this world ever had any hope of being saved from the insanity it had descended into, it died before you arrived. There was no talking it out, or pulling at the strings of their hearts, they were monsters held back only by their obsessive love for someone that might never reciprocate it. They would lie to your face about respecting your boundaries, and stab someone in their neck the moment you looked away. In the end, the dorm you once thought would be full of potential friends, were as controlling as tyrants. They cared not for how you felt about it, as long as they got what they wanted from you, your wishes came second. And they’d lie as long as the day about following them. 

You shouldn’t have been surprised.

In another world, maybe you could have been friends with all of them. Close friends with the playful Ace and determined Deuce. Friends with the changed Riddle, the gentle Trey and the upbeat Cater. Maybe you would be able to hang out with them all, spending time with them in the innocent fun you had today. Tea/study parties with Riddle. Baking with Trey. Taking magicam photos together with Cater. Losing at poker against Ace with Deuce. All that innocent, platonic and, if the mood checked out and you weren’t afraid of risking it, romantic. 

But this wasn’t that world. 

Realisation is like an axe to the base of your neck, slicing a neck from the stump and ending the life of whatever naivete you had since you discovered the truth of this world. Just like Alice’s, just like the delinquents. 

You were so wrong. And so stupid. But there’s only one thing that you’re absolutely sure of. 

You don’t want to end up like Winston….

THE RED KING HOLDS A BLEEDING HEAD. CHAPTER 1 END.

[plutonium-spectacle]

I love this concept- all humans are Irish/German to aliens. Here's what I thought of (the math isn't exact, it's mostly guesstimates):

---

Trilyn prided himself (as did many of his species, the Krakoor) on his alcoholic tolerance. It was mostly due to his size- at over 600 pounds in weight (he was using human measurements as it would be easier for you human readers to understand), standing over twice the average alien height, it took much more alcohol to get him to pass out than others.

He could drink about 12 ounces before he had to stop. It was incredible. Whenever a new species would be introduced to the intergalactic society, it was always a joke to egg them on to start a drinking contest with a Krakoor. Most refused, but one or two may have the hubris to try every now and again.

Then, the humans were introduced. They were small, fleshy things, about a quarter of his size- no exoskeleton, and barely any meat or muscle on them, typically. He had also heard they had the hubris of no other species, while also being violent, paranoid-ridden creatures from a deathworld. Most of what he heard described them in contradictions.

Aggressive yet kind.

Open yet closed off.

Paranoid yet stupidly trusting.

Fleshy yet predators.

Creatures of both war and peace.

Unmistakably intelligent yet ditzy and stupid.

Humble yet full of hubris.

And he desperately wanted to meet one. The stories- the stories were a range from horrific to comical to unbelievable. He'd never heard of anything like it. And today was his lucky day.

He was sitting in a bar, surrounded by creatures around his size, sipping on the strongest drink they offered- about a 5% alcohol to 95% drink ratio. It was rather packed, though there was always some empty seats, as not many could stand (nor liked to) any alcohol in traceable amounts. Then, looking like a meagre bug surrounded by the others, a human (a human!) waltzed in, completely unbothered by the size difference with himself and those around him.

The human took a seat next to Trilyn casually (though casually was more in his demeanor- he had to comically climb up the chair to sit on it's too-big cushion with the bar counter up to his underarms), before ordering a drink from the bewildered bartender, having to get a shot glass as a normal cup due to his small size.

Trilyn spoke up, grinning down at the little fleshy creature, "you're a little small to be drinkin' don'tcha think, buddy?"

The human chuckled, as the bartender set down his shot glass, "I drink all the time back on Earth, my home planet. I've got a pretty high tolerance despite being a bit small."

The bartender nervously slid the shot to the human, guaging the man for any immediate puking. The human took a sip, frowning a little in response.

To Trilyn and the bartender's surprise, the man wasn't upset about too much alcohol.

"Could you put a bit more alcohol in this? Add any fee you need to my tab."

The bartender looked even more nervous, adding a small splash to the drink of concentrated alcohol (nearly 40%, if his memory was serving him right), making the man frown further.

"Uhm. Sorry. Bit more?"

The bartender then added another splash, eyeing the man nervously. The man frowned, turning to whisper to Trilyn.

"...Is it like, a custom to not pour much alcohol? I want at least like, 20% tonight."

Trilyn froze. That would kill him. Was- was this man genuinely suicidal? Was it all some sort of joke?

"2-20%?"

That was over quadruple what Trilyn could stand. The man nodded, before turning to the bartender again.

"Could I get something with about 20% alcohol in it, give or take?"

The bartender's eyes widened in shock, clearly not believing what she had just heard. She then immediately shook her head.

"Look, you'll die if you have that much, and I don't want a life on my hands if I can help it."

The man seemed confused by this- incredibly confused.

"Die? I'm not gonna get like, 10 drinks or whatever, just a few to loosen up. Is alien alcohol super strong or something? Got any Jack Daniels back there?"

The bartender seemed to notice something- they both knew human alcohol was just as potent as galactic alcohol- so why would the human order a 20% if he didn't plan on dying? The bartender got out the smallest glass available, before pouring some alcohol in with some drink mixer to dilute it, before handing to the man.

"That's about 15% if my math is right," she said warily, as the man happily gulped it down.

Trilyn was panicking now: he was about to witness a death. Why would the man do this? He didn't seem suicidal? Was there a way he could prevent the alcohol from reaching his blood and this was some sick prank?

But nothing happened. A minute passed, and nothing happened. Then a few minutes.

"You... how?" Trilyn asked, confused out of his mind.

"How what?"

"You... you should be dead. The most I can have is 5% typically."

The man was just as confused as Trilyn now.

"The most you can have is 5%? Look at you, you should be able to drink it at 100% with your size. I think my limit is about 7 drinks of somewhere around 30% before I black out, but I've got a high tolerance."

Trilyn was dreaming. This was a joke. A prank. No way could this little flesh ball out-drink him. Not even the unnaturally big of his species could go past a drink of 8% or 9%.

The rest of the night was spent with the human- who's name was Jamie- with the human nursing a good 40% drink as Trilyn nursed his 5%.

Trilyn learned a lot that night; humans didn't have hubris. Hubris implies that it's overdone, undeserving confidence. No no, it was very deserving confidence.

Humans weren't humble yet full of hubris. They were humble yet confident.

---

I loved writing this. I think I might respond to a few more prompts in the future with Jamie and Trilyn.

Humans are space orcs writing prompt.

No one can handle their drink like humans!

The biggest land animals on earth, elephants, can handle something being at a maximum of 7% alcohol by volume (abv)

Most species on earth can usually intake 1-3 abv.

With small species like rats only being able to intake alcohol in the milligrams range, at best 80mgs.

Meanwhile humans will sometimes knock back something that is 40 abv. We can drink a whole bottle of it and while we feel lousy the next day, we dont die from it.

If the majority is the precident, then a shot of vodka will be pretty much a death sentence for most alien species.

But there go the humans, just knocking it back and calling that a fun night.

[inuiiwonderland]

Empire

Being crowned as empress of the Yuunkaedangon empire at the age of 17, you begin to start loving the new status and power. But it soon gets a bit boring and demanding the moment you turned 18. Harem? Heirs? Tf not!

Chapter 2

Words:1.0k

Fem reader but I don’t really say any she or her in this.

-

Being an empress has started to get a little boring now if you’re being honest. You frown at the stack of books and papers you had sitting on your desk. You turned to your attendant with a pout. He only shakes his head with a soft sigh.

“It’s the only way you can keep the higher ups from demanding an heir at the moment” He says calmly. You sigh as you pick up your writing equipment.

Bill passing….

BORING!

“I’m too young to have a child” You muttered. A little annoyed.

“Having kids isn’t all that bad, but I get why you’re upset”

You hum softly.

Now this isn’t you saying you hate kids or anything! You think they're alright, a little needy and loud but overall okay.

It’s just

You aren’t ready

“Ah I’ve had a talk with one of the higher ups earlier and he said that your consorts need ladies in waiting” You perk up.

“Ladies in waiting?”

“Mhm”

“I guess you’re right. Plus, it’ll be nice company for them since I’m not always gonna be there”

“Great. I’ll tell the higher ups tomorrow and have them assign them their own”

“Make sure they do background checks. Can’t have creeps and unworthy people working for my lovely consorts now can I?” You say. Your attendant nods.

“By the way, how’s your son?” His eyes lit up. He then goes on a rant about how his son is currently taking swordsman lessons and that he's getting better day by day. You smile.

At least now you can slack off just a little bit!

-

You watch as the last of the few ladies and men have been brought into the throne room. You eyed every single one carefully, some shivering under your watchful eyes as others seemed confident or uncomfortable.

“These are the best candidates the higher ups were able to gather last night” Your attendant, atsushi bows before calling out the first person up.

Both Riddle and Leona watch carefully at every single person that steps up. Listening closely to every single thing that comes out of their mouth along with their appearance, how they carry themselves, etc.

“Ace trappola! Young man from the Queendom Of Roses, good talents are cleaning, tending animals, and……card tricks?” The boy, “Ace” stifles a laugh but was given a stern look from his older brother which made him stop.

Riddle can already sense that he’s big trouble while Leona could really care less.

You get a good look at Ace.

He’s average height, fair skin, fluffy orange hair, and scarlet like eyes.

Not bad

And you won’t lie, he’s kinda funny.

You turn to riddle, wondering if he’ll take in trappola as a lady in waiting.

Riddle can already feel your stare on him. His cheeks turn a light pink at your stare.

“I’ll take him” He mutter softly. Small pout as he looks away. Leona scoffs.

“Excellent! Next”

After what seems to be hours (years even)

Your two lovely consorts have each of their own ladies in waiting.

Riddle: Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Cater Diamond

Leona: Ruggie Bucchi, Jack Howl

Once everyone was satisfied with their choices, your attendant dismissed the ones who weren’t chosen. You walked down to greet the new ladies in waiting with a soft smile.

“It’s nice to have you young gentleman here” You say. The boys jumped before quickly bowing to you. You smile.

“Now you know that each of you will be staying with and taking care of my two precious consorts right?” Riddle turns a bright red as Leona looks away. You can tell your charms got to him by how he fiddles with the hem of his sleeves.

“I hope you guys take good care of them!……or else” You gave them a menacing look. The five boys gulp, before nodding their heads. Some of them held a look of determination while a few….looked a little scared.

Perfect!

“Great! I’ll have my lovely attendant escort you guys back to your pavilions” You gave each concubine a kiss on the cheek before making your way out. A happy go lucky look on your face as the ladies in waiting can only look at each other and shiver in fear.

What a scary empress!

-

It’s been two months since you’ve gotten your consorts their ladies in waiting.

And it’s going great so far!

….

…..

Kinda

Riddle has been having trouble with Ace lately- scratch that, he’s been having trouble with him since he entered the heartslabyul pavilion.

He’ll rant to you about him every time you stop by and visit. You’ll just massage his tensed shoulders and whisper sweet words in his ears until he stops and relaxes.

Other than Ace, the other two don’t trouble him at all! Very good care takers, cleaners, and cooks!

Leona on the other hand, doesn't have any trouble with his ladies in waiting.

They’re patient, quick and ready to do anything he needs, and very good cooks!

Happy wives, happy life!

Not wives yet

Now speaking of wives, you are currently reading a letter from a high end family that wants their son to be a part of your harem.

Ha….you haven’t gotten one of these in months

“The Ashengrotto Family” You mutter. You paced back and forth in your home office as you read the letter.

“He’s the son of a very high ranking merchant. His mother owns a very successful restaurant somewhere near the east side and his stepfather is an ex military official”

“Mm”

You haven’t taken anyone in after Leona. And your vassal keeps pestering you to grow your harem.

Weirdos

Maybe it’s finally time to take someone in again!

“Schedule a meeting for tomorrow in the afternoon” You yawn out, ready to end this busy day and go to bed.

“Already done”

“Huh?” You turn around to see your attendant wearing a prideful smile.

“I know you will agree!” He says.

Eh?!

“Are you serious?”

“Mhm! Now go get some sleep, Mrs. Ashengrotto is very excited to meet you tomorrow!”

“You’re killing me”

“No”

“Yes….”

“By the way, are those papers done yet?” He asks.You froze. He raises a thick brow as he patiently waits. You batted your lashes at him as you sway side to side.

“Y’knowwwww you’re right! I should get some much deserved sleep, don't you think?” You slowly walk closer to the exit, still making eye contact as your hand slowly inches closer to the door.

“Y/n” he says sternly.

“Bye bye good night!” And with that you make a quick escape.

“Y/n!”

atsushi only sighs before a small smile creeps up upon his face.

“Just like their old man”

-

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ALSO TYSM FOR 1k FOLLOWERS!!! LOVE YOU ALL AND THANK YOU FOR ALL THE SUPPORT!!!

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[littelovelunette]

Can you write a story where Vi got reader pregnant and but before they find out she is pregnant she thinks she just had the flu (this is how I found out… but I’m not talented enough to project it in writing and I don’t wanna use AI so could you please!)

Not Flu, Is It?

Vi x Pregnant!Reader

It's been a few days you were woken early in the mornings with a wave of nausea.

You shrugged it off, it was flu season and given your terribe and weak immune system, you were sure you'd just caught flu.

And so was Vi, she was helping you through it with flu treatments and medication too.

Goodness, was Vi so worried for you.

Ome of those days, you were laid next to Vi who was stroking your hair lovingly before suddenly, her expression changed, one of confusion, "Baby, did you get your period this month?"

"No," you looked up, your voice weak from the constant throwing up and sickness, "I think not, everything's been so hectic I just lost track of it."

"Throwing up, missed period, tummy ache," Vi listed off all your symptoms, hands running down your back in a soothing manner, "Even an idiot could've reasoned you might just be pregnant."

"I am?" You mumbled, burying your face in the crook of her neck.

"We can't be so sure like that, I'll go run down to the store and get you some tests, okay?" Vi tilted your head up so you could meet her gaze, you gave her a small smile and a nod.

"Mm..." You stared at her as if waiting for her to add something to her last words, puppy eyed gaze lingering on Vi.

"... And some chocolates, I got you," Vi gave you a reassuring squeeze before she got up, keys jingling and jacket rustling as she quickly got herself ready.

Once Vi was decently dressed she gave your a forehead kiss, "Call me if you need anything, I won't be gone long."

You grinned weakly and nodded, "Ba-bye."

A little while later, Vi returned with the pregnancy tests and the door clicked open, "Hey, babe, I'm back," she said, her voice wavering from nervousness as she walked inside the shared apartment.

She set the tests down, "So," she looked at you, "Do you wanna just take them now? Or..."

You got up, grabbing one test up, "Should I take two at once? It would be safer in case I get a false," you said, reading the instructions on the box.

"Sounds 'bout right, just— I never had to do I don't know," Vi said awkwardly scratching the back of her neck.

You giggled before picking up two tests and disappearing in the bathroom.

"I'll still be here if you need me," Vi quickly added, leaning against the wall next to the bathroom door.

"Peeing on a stick shouldn't be that hard, right?" You called from the bathroom. Vi would've replied before she heard you do exactly what you said. That knocked the words down her throat.

"Y—...eah," Vi managed.

A little bit later, you put the tests on the bathroom counter waiting according to what the box said, "After 15 minutes it'll show," you told Vi.

Vi nodded and held your hand, "You nervous?"

"Of course I am, I never thought of being a mother until now and suddenly now that I think about it— you're gonna call me crazy but— I'm sorta' praying I am pregnant," you looked up at her, "Does that make me crazy?"

"No, of course not," Vi said reassuringly, rubbing circles on the back of your hand, "I respect whatever choice you make, it's your body," she smiled, "But of course I am happier that you choose to keep the child if you are pregnant."

You giggled and leaned against her body, "Because I'll finally be able to hold something over your head—"

"How? You're short as fuck," Vi looked down at you as if to exaggerate her point.

"Not that, you idiot!" You shoved her playfully, "I meant, I'll be able to say 'I gave birth to your child' whenever we fight and I get to use the labour hours to my advantage," you smirked, glancing at the test.

"Oh, you are evil," Vi said, also averting her gaze to the test.

"Only the finest."

The moment 15 minutes were over, you checked the tests and sure enough, it read positive.

You looked at Vi, who was already teary eyed, she picked you up bridal style and just squeezed you close like she'd merge herself with you.

"Oh my goodness," Vi whispered staring at the tests, "We're gonna be parents."

"Mhm," you giggled, leaning your head against Vi's chest, "Meaning you're gonna be doing whatever I tell you to because I call the shots."

"Got it, ma'am," Vi said with mock obedience making you roll your eyes.

"Y'know what— p-put me down, I think I'm feeling super pukey," you said and Vi quickly let you down, you opened your mouth to say something but shook your head, turning back to the toilet and retching.

"Well, you can start being a diva maybe after the morning sickness is over," Vi held your hair back, a small smile on her lips.

[koralira-kira]

MASSAGE OIL ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆k. bakugo⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

pairings : k. bakugo x reader

genre : crack, slice of life, established relationship

synopsis : After a grueling day of dance training, you’re sore as hell and in desperate need of a massage. Luckily, your explosive hothead of a boyfriend, Katsuki Bakugo, is more than willing to help—until things take a hilarious turn. What was supposed to be a relaxing massage turns into absolute chaos when you both realize Katsuki grabbed the wrong bottle… and slathered you in lube instead of massage oil. Cue the shouting, the accusations, and the absolute mess that follows.

warnings : profanities... like ALOT. a hint of explicit jokes too!

wc : 1,457

notes : OMG i haven't written in A WHILEE. wrote this out since it just spawned randomly in my mind and i thought it was kinda funny sooo... why not make a oneshot out of it! :D ANYWAYS, i still got a heck tone of pending papers to do cuz let's be honest, school sucks. JK! still tryin my best to keep those gpa's UPP!! (i'm about to crash out and lose my shit... help me) LOL hope ya'll would like this one the same way as I did!

---

The living room was quiet except for the occasional scroll of a thumb against a phone screen and the faint sound of Katsuki sighing every now and then. Both of you were sprawled out on the couch, wrapped in blankets, doing absolutely nothing but enjoying each other’s presence.

After a whole damn day of training yesterday, your body was in absolute shambles. Everything hurt—your legs, your arms, your back—hell, even blinking felt exhausting. And naturally, you were complaining about it.

“I swear to god, Kats, if I have to do another goddamn windmill next week, I’m gonna fucking lose it,” you groaned, tossing your phone onto your stomach. “My body is screaming at me. Like, I think my muscles are planning a rebellion. My back, baby. My back is DONE.”

Katsuki, not even looking up from his phone, let out a short snort. “Well, no shit. You disappeared for a few months and then jumped straight back into training like some lunatic. What’d you expect?”

“That I’d have superhuman regeneration powers, obviously.” You rolled onto your stomach, dramatically burying your face into the pillow. “Ughhh, I need a back massage. Katsuki, pleaseee.”

“Tch. Fine, fine,” he grumbled, shoving his phone in his pocket. “I’ll get the oil. Wait here.”

You watched as he got up, stretching slightly before making his way toward your shared bedroom. You sighed in relief, smiling to yourself. Perks of having a strong-ass Pro Hero boyfriend—he gave damn good massages.

A few moments later, Katsuki returned with the familiar little bottle in his hand. He plopped back down next to you, tugging at your oversized top. “Take this off.”

You turned to him with a lazy smirk. “Oh? A lil kinky now are we, huh?” you teased, wiggling your eyebrows.

He let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. “Shut the hell up and turn around, dumbass. Ain't tryna get you dicked down.”

Chuckling, you finally pulled your shirt over your head and lay back down on the couch, getting comfortable as he poured some of the oil into his hands. He rubbed them together before pressing his palms against your skin, starting slow, letting his thumbs dig into your tight muscles.

In all honesty, training was the pain in the ass. Especially since you just got back after a few months of taking break from dancing. Not gonna lie though, dancing was really you passion ever since you were a kid and it lead you to many great opportunities and achievements you never thought you'd reach. You've been through countless of stages and danced your ass in all of them.

Definitely you're not ashamed of that, cause who would? It was just that you and your crew were all busy for the last couple of months since competitions were just coming in and it was just too much to handle physically and mentally. That's why you took a little break but of course you also took your time to pass by your studio ever now and then. Checking out on the progress of the routine, just not entirely participating in the dance.

"Ohh yeah, press a little bit harder there, Kats."

"Yeah, yeah, quite moanin' your ass, I know I got magical hands."

"Hell yeah you do, babe." You grinned and Katsuki just chuckles.

A few minutes then passed by in comfortable silence before something felt… off.

You frowned. “Hey, Kats?”

“Hm?”

“You bought a new massage oil, didn’t you?”

“The fuck you mean?” Katsuki paused, his hands still pressed against your back. “I bought the same menthol massage oil we always use. Why?”

“Well… it’s not minty like usual. And it feels kinda… greasy?” You turned your head slightly, your brows furrowing. “Like, I dunno, it doesn’t feel the same.”

Katsuki huffed, shifting slightly as he lifted his hands and rubbed his fingers together, as if expecting the familiar cooling sensation to suddenly appear. “What the hell? It’s been a few minutes, and I don’t feel that minty shit either…”

Now getting suspicious, he reached down and grabbed the bottle from the floor to check it properly. Maybe he bought the wrong one by accident?

He flipped the bottle around in his hands, reading the label.

“…uhhh.”

Your head snapped up. “Katsuki, what the fuck do you mean ‘uhhh’?”

Katsuki blinked. Then blinked again. His red eyes grew about two sizes as he processed what he was holding.

You twisted your body slightly to look back at him, and the second you saw the bottle, your stomach dropped.

“KATSUKI.”

He flinched. “What?!”

“YOU STUPID FUCK. YOU USED FUCKING LUBE INSTEAD OF MASSAGE OIL?!”

Katsuki’s jaw clenched as he immediately went on the defensive. “ASSHOLE, THEY WERE IN THE SAME DAMN CABINET. HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THE DIFFERENCE?!”

“OH, I DUNNO, MAYBE READ THE GODDAMN BOTTLE?”

“I WASN’T THINKING ABOUT READING, I WAS THINKING ABOUT RUBBING YOUR WHINY ASS DOWN.”

You sat up fully now, chest still out, and slapped your hand over your face in pure disbelief. Meanwhile, Katsuki was still holding the damn lube bottle like it wasn’t already too late.

“This is actually insane. We are insane,” you muttered, shaking your head. “Oh my god, Katsuki, what if I had skin allergies or some shit? What if I just broke out in hives? Huh?”

“Well it hasn't happened before now did it? And plus, we’ll figure it out, dumbass,” he shot back, but his voice was losing the edge, turning into a chuckle as he finally started to process the absurdity of the situation.

You groaned dramatically, flopping back against the couch. “You're actually disgusting.”

Katsuki finally burst out laughing, tossing the bottle onto the coffee table. “You’ll live.”

Still pouting, you crossed your arms, glaring at him. “We’re never speaking of this again.”

“No, no, we absolutely are,” Katsuki smirked, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into his chest. “I’m tellin’ the whole damn crew. You got rubbed down in lube.”

“YOU’RE NOT TELLING SHIT.”

Katsuki laughed harder, leaning down to press a kiss against the side of your head. “Relax, dumbass. No one’s gonna know.”

“…Swear on your All Might figurine?”

Katsuki groaned. “God, you’re fucking impossible.”

You snickered before finally letting yourself relax in his embrace. As much of a disaster as that was, at least now you had a new inside joke to hold over him for the rest of your lives.

"Will you be a gentleman now and bring me up to go shower with me?" You batted your eyes at him.

"Aight, aight, we'll shower together, princess." He kissed you're temple and carried you bridal style towards the bathroom with you chuckling.

And if he ever fucked up again, you now had the ultimate trump card:

“You used lube instead of massage oil, babe. You literally cannot say shit.”

fin

---

[whoahoney]

brothers best friend!Eddie reading your diary while he's balls deep inside of you.

Note: Surprise bitches. 😏 Idk if anyone's gonna read this, ive been on HIATUS 5ever, but this is something I wrote while recovering from dental work high as balls. I hope you enjoy! I'll edit further when my phones charged.

Warnings: smut (18+) minors DNI, slight humiliation kink, secret hookups, kinda fluffy 🫶🏻

------------------

It had been a couple months of your sneaky schemes, Eddie sleeping over and sneaking into your room to "chat" for a few hours after your brother fell asleep. You and Eddie had always been close, but finding your place amongst your brother and his friends could be hard sometimes. So for the most part, Eddie sought you out, finding you around the house to shoot the shit.

Neither of you could tell who started it, neither of you cared. All you know is that one night, he was on your bed, your legs in his lap, his hand on your thigh, the weed was good and your faces were achingly close to each other.

Neither one of you fought before giving in, it was natural as can be.

so of course you just

kept

going.

Since then, any time he could manage to make his way to your room (or walk in on you in the shower), he was there, ready to unbuckle his belt and bend you over.

He loved working in and out of you, setting a brutal pace for himself since he never knew how much time he had with you. He often fantasized about the day he'd be able to take his time with you. Simmering on the idea of massaging your pussy til it was slick and gaping for him, wondering if you'd let him lean forward and lap it all up.

You weren't quite sure what to make of it all, it felt like just another thing you two did together. At least that's how you assumed he felt. The usual glimmer in his eyes as he sauntered into your room never changed, regardless if he was asking for popcorn and a movie or seeing your tits.

You didn't really care, you just liked being around him.

and you quickly found out you were more than willing to do casual if that's what he wanted.

Often times after he left your room, you tried to write about it in your diary to make sense of it all. At first it was passive thoughts about your hang outs, wondering if it meant he saw you as a friend or something more, but ever since you started messing around, its all you ever write about anymore.

Details from the way he made you feel, how long his dick was, and your innermost feelings about him were all in there, no holds barred. You'd never imagined that he'd care enough to read it, let alone what he was about to do next.

He had you face down in a pillow, hand cradling the nape of your neck, your skirts flipped up and over your back, panties discarded in the knotted up bedsheets. You're panting, the air around you is thick and sweet despite the lingering cigarette smoke clinging to his person.

"Oh, I love seeing you like this," He says under his breath as he grabs a handful of your ass. "Face down, ass up, that sweet pussy spread open around my cock," He pressed deep inside you, trembling as he relishes the softness of your walls and you give him a sweet whine. "Shh--not so loud, sweetheart..." His hand found its way into your hair, winding it around his fist and pulling it taught. Your mouth opens with a silent gasp.

He looks to the left and spots the familiar leather bound diary you're always scribbling in, and with a sudden urge, he grabs it up.

He lets it fall open to the place where you left your pen clipped to the page, which happened to be the latest entry about him.

The way it feels when he's inside me... I crave it. I think about him all the time...

He smirked to himself, quickening his pace and pulling your face up to see the page he's on, "You like me so much,I made the journal-how cute.." He cooed into your ear before taking the lobe between his teeth, sending tingles down your spine, your fingers clenching the pillow til you knuckles turned white.

You were so lost in him that you couldn't even speak, your cheeks flaming with embarrassment as he read aloud, "His touch feels like electricity, he makes me feel alive..." He softly chuckled before letting his teeth graze against your neck and biting down and making you clench around him.

"His dick is so long and hard, it hurts sometimes, but I never want to tell him to stop or slow down, I'll take whatever I can get from him. It's so pathetic. I'M pathetic. But do I care??" He recites in his best impression of you as you hide away in the pillow, he chuckles to himself before remarking, "My dick makes you feel pathetic? tsk, aww..."

Then his eyes skimmed over a passage, and he slowed as he took the time to read it, "I want to be around him all the time. For more than these moments we manage to steal-but I don't know if he feels the same way... maybe it's just casual. Maybe he does this with a lot of girls." His heart swells in an unfamiliar way, a smile fighting its way onto his cheeks.

"You're too kind- really," he chuckles as he tosses it to the side. He lets go of your hair and brings both of his hands to your hips, pulling himself out almost completely before shoving back in with a grunt, his front slapping your ass.

"I don't have a diary, but I will tell you this-" He withdrew himself and flipped you over settling between your thighs before sliding in with ease. You inhaled sharply at the fullness, your chest heaving. He licks his lip before pulling up your shirt, freeing your breasts to bounce as he pleased.

"There isn't anyone else I'm doing this with..." He pressed his bare chest against yours, looking deep into your eyes. His fingers gently smoothed your hairline as he worked a slow easy pace in and out. "Right here, with you, is my favorite place to be..." He whispered, nose to nose- working himself in and out in and out at an agonizing pace that dragged on deliciously. "I love being with you in any way I can get it." He admitted into the darkness.

Your eyes are huge as he plants a kiss on your lips. You open your mouth and nudge his tongue with yours, wrapping your legs around his waist as he plunges in with fervor.

"Aww, my pussy makes you feel pathetic?" You quietly mock with a smile.

"Aw, that's my girl," He mumbles against you, his embrace tightening around your torso, and thrusts growing more and more eager as he chases his orgasm and yours.

[sakumz]

Hii! I really like your writing style, would you be interested in writing a headcanon or scenario about a man in ZZZ acting a bit possessive toward his partner, if you don’t mind?

a/n : hellooo and I'm sorry it took awhile to write this (wanted to post on vdays but I forgot) hehe

____________________________________________

[ wise, lighter, harumasa x fem reader ]

____________________________________________

--- wise

he can't help but feel a little jealous when he sees you, his beloved be a little LITTLE too touchy with his lovely sister. why are you patting her head when she's done something good? must you really give her hugs too when you say goodbye? are you dating her or him?

today. he just can't stand TODAY! he was supposed to be having movie night at your home, why is belle here? she said she'll help bring over snacks and be done with it. someone's gotta handle the store, you know yet she's here, yapping mid way through the movies and even feeding you popcorn. he leans closer to you. heck you can even hear his breathing if you focus a little more on him. just as he's about to drape an arm over to your shoulders, you stand up.

" what's wrong? " belle asks as you grab the now empty bowl on her lap.

" it's almost half empty and we're barely halfway through the movie. I'm gonna get more popcorn, just stay put you two! " wise sighs heavily as you disappear into the kitchen.

" why are you doing this? " wise heaves a huff as belle tries not to laugh. has he caught on?

" because I like her- "

" she's my woman you know! I got to her first. "

" but she clearly likes me more, " as you walk back to your spot.

you were pulled into a hug, your bowl falling flat as your brain malfunctions.

" no she doesn't like you as much as me! she's mine. " he hugs you tighter as the room falls eerily quiet.

" of course I like you as much as her, what's wrong? " belle and you can't help but burst out laughing.

" then why do you keep- " you turn to kiss him, pulling away quickly as belle snaps a photo of wise flustered face.

" you don't have to be so possessive over me, I'm yours you know. " you smile as wise hugs you once more, burying his face in your hair to hide his smile.

--- lighter

" come on sweetheart, I'll treat you a hundred times better than that red scarf, " the man next to you stirs as you giggle.

lighter took you to this random bar after a long motorcycle ride. who would've thought a few talking about your day to a stranger would lead to him hitting you up.

you feel lighter's shoulders tremble a little, next thing you know. more sweet words spilled from the drunken guy led to the glass lighter was gripping hard to spill.

" aw look at what sunglasses did, he splashed a little on your dress. here let me wipe- " the man took the serviette, ready to pat your dress dry as lighters hand came flying towards his own.

" I'll handle this and I'm sorry for your dress. " he takes the serviette from the man and wipes the part he ruined. his frown visible.

" see sweetheart, I'll treat you a hundred times- "

" better than me, but I'll punch you a hundred times to get it through your thick skull that she's not interested. " lighter spat as both you and the drunken man were left speechless. the man couldn't help but run with his tail between his legs.

" thank you for that but you know, a hundred is countable and my love for you is so much more than that. " you kiss his cheek as his sunglasses fall slightly from the bridge of his nose, exposing his shock filled green eyes.

--- harumasa

who would have thought harumasa would ever have a stand off with his long awaited rival. your possessive cat.

must your cat really stick by your side the moment you come home? he's there as you make dinner, eat (the cat sits on an empty vacant seat), crash on your couch, bed and when you go to the toilet? must he really wait outside...

harumasa sighs as he watches the cat follow you like a lost child. when you make dinner and press a kiss to your cats head. dont think harumasa missed the part where you steal pieces of meat and feed it to that cat!

" come on, can't I cuddle my girlfriend? " he spat at the cat as he pulls away from the hug and your cat is quick to steal a spot on your lap.

" just let my baby be, you don't see me complaining when your cat acts needy to you. "

" that's because she NEVER acts needy! " he points an accusing finger at you as you laugh.

to say the least, he really hates your boy cat. when you arrive at H.A.N.D with your cat in a carrier, why did nobody stop or toss your cat out? you said you've just collected him from the vet during your break and everyone was fine with it.

why did soukaku release your cat from the carrier? your cat was sitting on his seat, right next to you as miyabi and soukaku pats and compliments how well behaved and adorable he is. yanagi couldn't help but laugh when a co worker said your cat would've been a better partner than harumasa himself. WHAT!?

" CAT! your mother is my woman and you're second place in her heart, get it in your little fur brain or I'll just have to make you! " he grabs the cat, glaring directly as your cat gave the most nonchalant uncaring look to him.

" he's just a cat, don't get jelly. " soukaku says as she pulls the cat away from him.

" I am not jealous! " he spits.

" don't be possessive then, " miyabi says from behind him as he slumps on his chair.

" you're number one in my heart so dont worry about a cat. he won't replace you, besides. we already made plans for a vacation so you won't feel the presence of that cat for a week, " you rub circles on his hand as a faint smirk tugs at his lips.

[x-ang3l-x]

- You sure your not a virgin? (E.W)

cw: mean!readerx loser!ellie, high school bully x ellie, degration, porn with some plot like really really mean, virginity mocking, enemies to lovers, hate sex, homophobia, d slur used,!NSFW, mdni.

A/N: This is based off a script from scriptbin which I also think is an audio on soundgasm- If I find them i'll add the links <3

reblogs appreciated

"I'm gonna go look around, I'll catch up with you." I slur before making my way out of the bar area and into the arcade. I walk into an overstimulating sea of lights and sound and geeks slouched over some consoles spending their wages on video games. I silently wished to myself we would had gone somewhere where I could've taken someone home tonight, but I don't think that's going to happen at the barcade.

I have a couple spare tokens in my back pocket, I fish them out and relecantly sigh as I find some random shitty game and stroll next to it. Theres a girl sitting on one of the stools. I couldn't really make out her face under the strobe lights, but I could make out a malnourished figure hunched over the arcade game, her nose buried in the screen. Auburn hair shagged just at her shoulders, glasses peering off the tip of her nose.

I strut up to her and wait a few moments for her to look at me. She doesn't. "Anyone sitting here?" I ask reluctantly

The girl does not turn her head, but responds. "Isn't it obvious?"

Okay, well fuck it. "I'm sitting here anyways. Whatcha gonna do about it?

"As long as you leave me alone, nothing."

God this bitch was blunt. For a moment she started to remind me of somebody I once knew but I brushed the feeling off before I continued. "So, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be going out to like, real bars?"

"Isn't this a real bar?"

I scoff. "This is barley a bar. You don't even have a drink."

"I'm not here to drink."

"You know what, I’m feeling charitable today, how about I buy you one?" For a brief moment the girls hand on the joystick faulters before continues her game.

"It's okay, don't waste your money."

"Yeah, come on, you pick. Whatever you want, baby I’ll get it." I seductivley say with a slight tilt of my head. The girl fails to conceal a small chuckle and softly bites her bottom lip when she does.

And I can't even lie, it was fucking cute.

But I still couldn't shake the feeling like I knew her from somewhere.

"Hey.. can you look at me really quick?" I ask. She pretends to not hear me. "C'mon, even I know you can pause that. Turn your head." I'm met with a bewildered expression plastered on a pretty face. Pink, pouted lips, huge glossy eyes staring at me from behind her glasses. "You look familiar." I mumble.

Wait, hold on a second.

"Nooo fucking way."

No way this girl didn't know who I was the second I started talking to her. This theory was solidified after she flushed beet red right after I said her name.

"Ellie Williams. Oooh My god, how have you been? You look- You look great, actually, seriously."

Ellie doesn't say anything, just silently staring at me with her mouth slightly agape. "What, can't take a compliment?"

"Didn't you like.. bully me? All of high school?"

Okay, yeah, that is how I knew her. I tormented this poor, friendless, loser every day for four years straight.

"Well..I mean, yeah, I did. But that's high school, literally no one cares about that!" I laugh. Well, except you, obviously."

Ellie scowls at me. "Whatever, see you haven't peaked since then."

"I'll actually have you know that I'm getting a promotion next week, so suck my dick."

"Promoted to what? Bosses least favorite?"

"Whatever, dyke." I cross my arms and give her a bit of an evil smile. "Least I’m not spending my Friday night playing fucking video games from the 80’s."

“70’s, actually”

"70's, actually!" I mock with a lisp.

Ellie just keeps glaring me down and spitting rebounds out. "I don't see you holding any high scores."

"Yeah, because I grew up, Williams. Let me guess, you spend every single Friday night here making sure no one takes away your precious fucking numbers on a screen."

"And what did you grow into, scoring bodies?"

What is wrong with this bitch? "Did you just call me a slut?" I dour.

Ellie stands up, seemingly prepared to walk away from the conversation. "Yeah, I did. Gonna do something about it?"

I also rise, meeting her height and overpowering her skinny frame. "Okay, you know what, fuck you and fuck this attitude that you have. I don’t need some fucking loser who hangs out at an arcade every night because she can’t help but have a little pity party because they were too fucking nerdy for anyone to like them telling me that they’re somehow better than me!"

Ellie doesn't walk away, she just lets out an offended grunt before eyeing me up and down. I decide that maybe it's time to have some fun with this. Just like back in high school. How I used to berade the girl every single second I could get to, and how i'd catch her holding back a smile as I did so.

"You know, I bet your sorry little ass that I could fuck this attitude right out of you."

Ellie's head whipped up, eyes meeting mine and holding a glimmer of hope. "W- what?" she stuttered.

"Aww, that got the little loser blushing." I say striding towards said blushing mess. "What, does this dumb little dyke get wet when some mean bitch tells her they could ruin her?" I lower my voice and place my lips next to her ear, barley grazing it as I spoke. "I bet you probably get off on that sort of shit, pervert."

I swear to god I could hear a moan in the back of Ellie's throat as I challenged her.

"Wanna put your money where your mouth is?" She whispered.

My breath hits her ear hot and hard."Fucking...Yeah. Yeah, I do think I can put my money where my mouth is. What, are you trying to get me to take you home with me?"

I'm only met with a shit eating grin spreading across her face.

"I'm gonna fuck that look off your face- let's go nerd."

___________________________

"I take it that you like my bedroom?" I ask as I lead the victim into my room. "Sorry that I don’t have a bunch of geek shit on the walls, I normally bring cool people over."

"To sleep with?" Ellie asks.

"Yeah, so?" I respond. "I’ve only slept with a few of them, so what? Least I’m not still a fucking virgin like you"

"I- I'm not a-" she starts, tripping over her own words.

I kick my shoes off and Ellie follows, watching my every move as though I was about to murder her. "Yeah fucking right, You don’t have to lie and tell me that you’ve slept with someone, I can tell you haven’t."

"How can you tell?"

"How can I tell? How can I tell?! I can tell by the way you’re shaking in your fucking shoes right now, bitch. Look at you. You don’t know whether to piss your pants or go blind." And I wasn't lying, the girl seriously was fucking pissing herself right now. Cute, but awfully pathetic. "It’s okay hun, everyone is nervous their first time! But it’s not like you’ll be doing any of the work."

Ellie lets out an awkward laugh."W- why?"

" I invited you over here because I’m gonna fuck that snarky, know it all, superiority complex right out of you....

... only if you really want me to."

"Do you want me to?" I ask, my hands softly feeling around her belt buckle. I get myself as close to her face as I can, inches away from shoving my tounge down her throat.

"Yes.." She softly whispered against my mouth, leaning in to kiss me before I pull back.

"You can be louder than that. I know you’ve got some big words in that head of yours, fucking use them."

"Pleaseee, please mommy please fuck me- fuck all this goddamn attitude right out of me- please."

My palm lightly slaps her cheek. "Good girl." I praise before kissing her, our lips interlocking and quickly moving into a deep passionate movement, our younger clashing against one another as she desperately maoans into my mouth. "This your first kiss, loser?" I ask as I pull away, latching myself onto her neck. "Oh, you like that, don't you?" And by the way she moans I can tell she does.

"You like when I kiss you neck... what about when I bite it?" I mumble before sinking my teeth into her flesh. She lets out a pornogroahic moan, head snapping up as she bites her lip to hold back another one. "God, listen to you... I could listen to you whine all day."

"Please..." Ellie groans against my skin.

"What was that?"

"Please touch me.."

"You want me to touch you...down here?" I say before lightly tracing my finger over her clothed slit. Ellie bucks her hips up in pleasure, trying to get more. "Keep still. I think I’d rather have you beg before I even think of laying a finger down there."

Ellie only reponds with incoherent phrases and moans as she tries to plead with me.

"My god, you are one desperate little loser, arent you? I'm not touching you until you beg for it like a little depraved loser."

"Please, please, I need you so fucking bad, my pussy needs you, I- I'm so wet- please.."

"That’s just not good enough, dyke. C’mon, you know I’m out of your league. And yet here I am being kind enough to stand in front of you. You should be on your fucking knees for me-" And in not even one second Ellie has immediately dropped to her knees and is softly pleading as she looks up at you with such sad, begging eyes.

"Woah, okay, taking that literally I see. Hm, I don’t know. I don’t think I should forgive you so easily, not with how much of a fucking brat you were being.

That being said, it is nice to see that you know your place. Begging me to touch you, It’s reallyyyy cute."

At this point Ellie looked like she was going to cream her pants, whimpering and panting like a fucking dog in heat. At any moment in looked like she would start humping the ground beneath me. "Your sooo pretty" is the only thing to come out of her mouth.

"God, you’re such a fucking loser. But you have such a pretty mouth, it would be a shame not to put it to good use.." I take a handful of her hair and pull it down so she could look at me better, admire me better.

"I'm gonna make you a deal, i'll let you eat me out." At this Ellies face radiated. "And if you do an especially good job, then maybe I'll touch you. If you don't- your not gonna fucking come. Okay?"

Ellie's head vigorously nodded up and down in acceptance, excitedly staring directly at my pants as I pull them down, revealing my glistening wet cunt to her. "You like my pussy? Quite the view isn’t it, nerd? You got me wet. Be proud of yourself.

And once I concluded with that scentence Ellie dived in, her tounge licking a stripe from my ass to my clit before stopping to softly suck on my bud.

"Oh- oh my fucking god.. fucking work that mouth whore.."

Her tounge lapped at me hurriedly, like it was her last meal. Like she was a woman starved. Maybe her malnourished figure was just a physical representation on how much pussy she was eating. Zero. Until now of course, until now where I have to tell her to slow down for a minute because she has no patience, just greedily slopping up my pussy juice like the stupid gay bitch she is. "Look at me, some fucking nerd is getting my fucking legs shaking. Guess anything really is possible, isn’t it?"

"Stupid fucking loser."

And with that I pulled her head off of my pussy, right before I could reach my climax. "Aww, look at that poor face. Did you want me to come all over your face? Poor girl." I fake pouted.

"Too bad, slut. But don’t worry. You did a good job, you get to make me cum while I fuck you. Oh, that made you smile, didn’t it?" Ellie shakes her head again without saying another word.

"Take your clothes off then, slut."

Ellie was sprawled out on the bed, pieces of baby hair clung to her sweat covered skin as she despratley moaned like the whore she was.

"Hollyyyy shit, your soo fucking right, brat." I breathed out as I shoved one finger and and out of her hole. "Look at you, squirming from just one finger. Your such a pervert."

Ellie can do nothing but agree, nodding her head and moaning. "More- please, I want more-"

"Hm? Touch you? You want me to touch you here baby?"

"You want me to just rest a finger on this pretty little pussy?"

"Wow, you’re eager. I guess you want me to touch it more?"

And with every single phrase you used meant to humilate her, Ellie simply build up her orgasm more and more. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.." she mewled.

"How does my hand feel, nerd? It feels good? It feels sooo good, I know." I can't help but laugh a bit maniacally as I thrust another finger inside her. "I wanna hear you say it."

"It.. feels.. so.. good..

.. so. good."

My fingers rapidly fuck into her cunt over and over again, making a mess drip down my hand. "What a pathetic little pervert.." with that comment Ellie's pussy sucks my fingers in so well, I can tell the phrase really got to her.

"Don’t pretend I didn’t feel this pussy twitch. You do love it when pretty girls are mean to you, don’t you?"

Don’t you?

"Yes-"

"God listen to that...You’re such a desperate loser. A desperate loser having the time of her fucking life. You’re sure you’re not a virgin, dyke?"

"Oh, god, that got you going didn’t it? Look at those hips move. You must really like it when some pretty girl makes you do whatever she wants. Is that what you want? To just do whatever pretty girls tell you to do and have them make fun of you? "

"What a stupid little dyke. I think that’s exactly what you want."

"Aren’t you glad you ran into me?"

"Fuck, me. You’re a loser, but my god are you one good girl."

And with that she snapped, coming completely undone as my fingers were completely drenched with her fluids, but I wasn't going to stop yet, I just couldn't.

"Maybe it’s not just any mean girl. Maybe it was me. Just me. You’ve probably wanted me to screw the brat out of you for such a long time. You’ve wanted me to fucking use you. To own you. Is that it baby? Is that what you want?"

Say it. I know you want to.

----------------------

a/n wait i lowk rlly like this

[hellinistical]

hear me out… mehendi on zaynes scars

oh....that's tew gewd anon.

4:58

Zayne’s office smelled like antiseptic and citrus. The overhead lights buzzed softly, but the glow from his desk lamp kept the room warm. You were sprawled across the old, brown leather couch, your sketchpad balanced against your bent knee, the pencil in your hand moving in lazy, absent-minded strokes. You weren’t drawing anything in particular—just lines, shapes, whatever felt right in the moment.

Zayne sat in his chair, one leg crossed over the other, peeling an orange with steady, practiced movements. The sharp scent of it cut through the usual sterile hospital smell, making the air feel a little less cold. The soft sound of the peel tearing away filled the silence between you.

“You should eat something real,” he said without looking up, his voice calm but firm.

You smirked, still focused on your sketch. “This is real. It’s an orange.”

He exhaled, amused but exasperated. “You know what I mean.”

The pencil paused on the page for a second before you resumed sketching. “Not hungry.”

Zayne didn’t argue. Instead, he finished peeling the fruit, split it into sections, and set a few next to you on a napkin. The rest he ate himself, quiet and unhurried.

You glanced at him, taking in the way his dark hair fell over his forehead, the way his sharp features softened in the low light. He looked tired. Probably hadn’t slept much.

You nudged his knee lightly with your foot. “Long day?”

Zayne hummed in response. “Same as usual.”

Which meant long shifts, complicated cases, and probably too much coffee. You sighed and set your sketchpad aside, grabbing one of the orange slices. “You’re gonna burn yourself out.”

“Says the one who hasn’t eaten all day.”

You popped the fruit into your mouth, making a point to chew dramatically. “Happy now?”

Zayne sighed. “Ecstatic.”

Your eyes traced the lines on his forearms, the way the dim light caught on the pale ridges of old scars. Some were thin and clean, others jagged, like stories carved into his skin. They stood out against his warm complexion, a stark contrast to the crisp, white button-down he had rolled up to his elbows.

You had seen them before, but never like this—never with the time to really look. They were beautiful in a way you couldn’t quite explain, like constellations scattered across his skin, each one holding something unspoken.

Zayne ate another piece of the orange, unaware of your stare at first. Then, as if feeling the weight of your gaze, he glanced at you, chewing slowly. His expression didn’t change, but there was something knowing in his eyes.

“Something on your mind?” he asked, voice steady but quiet.

You blinked, caught. A small heat crept up your neck, but you didn’t look away.

“Your arms,” you said simply.

Zayne looked down at them as if he had forgotten they were there. His fingers flexed slightly before he went back to peeling another slice of the fruit. “What about them?”

“They’re…” You hesitated, unsure how to put it into words. “They’re beautiful.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “That’s not usually what people say.”

“Well, I’m not ‘people,’” you shot back, stretching out on the couch.

“No, you’re not,” he agreed, a ghost of a smirk on his lips.

You watched as he rested his elbow on the arm of his chair, fingers brushing absently over one of the longer scars near his wrist. His expression didn’t shift much, but you could tell—there was something behind it, something deep.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The rain outside had softened to a quiet drizzle, and the sharp citrus scent of the orange lingered between you.

Then, without thinking, you reached out, your fingers barely grazing one of the scars near his forearm. Just a fleeting touch, soft and curious.

Zayne stilled.

Your breath caught, realizing what you’d done. You started to pull back, but before you could, he turned his arm slightly, almost like he was offering it. Inviting the touch instead of shying away from it.

Your fingertips hovered, unsure. “Do they still hurt?”

“Not anymore,” he murmured.

You don't give him a second to get all moody. "You still got my henna in your desk?" You open the left drawer when you get to it. "Yes- why?" "Gonna draw on your arms with it." The cone was half-empty, bent out of shape. You squeeze and experimental glob of the paste to make sure it was still good on your thumb. A little thick, but it'll do.

Zayne's eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t argue. He simply rolled his sleeve up higher, resting his arm on the desk between you. The soft light cast shadows over his skin, making the scars look even more pronounced, more intricate. Carefully pressing the tip to his forearm, the first stroke was slow, deliberate. A swirl, delicate and curling around the edge of an old scar.

Zayne exhaled through his nose, watching you work. He didn’t flinch, didn’t move—just observed with quiet patience as you traced lines over him, weaving patterns that danced between the ridges of his past.

“This okay?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded once. “Yeah.”

The silence between you was comfortable, filled only by the faint scrape of the henna cone and the occasional drip of rain outside. You worked instinctively, letting the patterns take shape on their own. They curved along the contours of his arm, twisting around old wounds, softening them.

Zayne finally spoke, his voice lower than before. “What are you drawing?” You tilted your head, taking in the design as it unfolded. “Dunno,” you admitted. “Just… something nice.”

His lips twitched. “For me?” “Maybe.” You smirked, not looking up. A beat of quiet, then— “Guess I’ll have to keep it on as long as I can, then.” Your hand paused, just for a second. The weight of that simple sentence settled between you, heavier than it should have been.

The orange lingered, sweet and sharp on your tongue, but now it was mixed with something else—something unspoken, something thick and impossible to name.

You didn’t look up, didn’t let yourself meet his eyes, because you knew if you did, you’d see it there too. That quiet, lingering weight.

Instead, you focused on the henna, on the way the lines curled and wove between his scars, marking him in a different way. A softer way.

Zayne let out a slow breath, almost like he wanted to say something but thought better of it.

So neither of you spoke. Because you’d gone over the past a billion times before.

And yet, it still felt like it was sitting there between you, waiting.

[https-murdock]

trust me - matt murdock

summary: when you finally get your dads best friend alone, you take your opportunity.

word count: 1,281

warnings: ⚠️ smut, dbf!matt (it’s own warning), age gap (not stated but legal obvs), oral f!receiving

note: heyyy i wanted to put this out to battle through the writers block howeverrr im gonna write either a part 2 or a separate dbf moment cause this one ain’t that gooood sorry :( learning to put the plot in my smut lol <3

maybe it’s because he’s your dads best friend.

you’ve known him for a few years. when he and your dad started working together on a case that crossed both of their paths, they bonded and he started coming over more, and with you living at home for a while this meant you saw him each time.

you can’t help but wonder if you’re seeing it right when you catch him listening to you potter around over your dads shoulder, that smug little smirk gracing his lips again. or the uncomfortable shuffle he does when you tell your dad you’re going on a date. you can’t help but think he may just feel the same as you do.

but you leave all those feelings aside, all those wondering thoughts because that could never happen.

sometimes you can even see his cross necklace, and you almost giggle when you realise how unholy you are for thinking about your dads best friend this way.

they’d known each other years, their relationship building while you were away at school, seeing matt when you came home during breaks or for a couple visits. there was always something in the way his voice had that drawl… the way you had to press your legs together for some form of release even just from a lingering hug. so, when your dad said he was going away for work, you saw your chance.

“i’m going away for a couple days, matt is only across the road if you need him. no messing around while im gone.” your dad had said, and he had no idea what that phrase meant to you when matt was in the same sentence.

seeing your opportunity, you ‘accidentally’ leave your key inside the house after your dad leaves… giving you no other option but to go see if matt has a spare - and you know he doesn’t.

you notice the way your heart flutters, the way it sits differently in your chest as you’re approaching his front door, and you take a second to question whether this is a bad idea, when the door opens for you.

“oh, sorry sweetheart i didn’t realise you were there.” he smirks, and you wonder how he knows it’s you so quickly - matt knows it’s because he recognises that perfume that makes him painfully hard every time he smells it.

matt knows it’s a shared feeling. he can smell you from so far away, and sometimes it feels like he could taste your slick in the air after you hear him talk.

but matt could never cross that line… could he?

“it-it’s ok, i left my keys inside the house but my dads away for a couple days. you don’t have a spare key do you?” you try to speak with your voice straight, tone as it normally would be, but the more you try the more you begin to think you’re making it worse. “oh uh, no i don’t.” he says, and you both stand there in a moment of silence, both wondering what to say next to ease the tension.

“stay here. i have a spare bed you can take ‘till your dad gets back.” he says, and part of you wonders if he is annoyed like he seems, or if he’s just hesitant to let you closer.

“are you sure? i’ll keep out your way, unless you don’t want me to?” you smirk, wanting to see what pushing this a little further would get you.

“you’re trouble.”

—

“we really shouldn’t do this.” he mutters to himself, letting you slip off his dress shirt as you straddle him. “why? who’s gonna know?” you whisper into his ear, feeling his hands mould to your skin as you leave hot kisses down his neck.

“if your dad found out the way i’m touching his daughter, i would loose my head.” he grunts, flipping you so your back sticks to his leather couch. “trust me, we’ll be fine.” you confirm, gasping when he starts kissing your inner thighs.

you toss your head back, basking in the heat his lips bring to your skin, feeling the way they move closer to where you so desperately need him to be. his calloused hands finally grace the waist of your panties, dragging them painfully slow down your legs, tossing them somewhere behind him.

“fuck, wanted to taste this pussy for the longest time.” you’re unsure whether he’s talking to himself at the point, as his head lowers toward your slick.

“p-please, fuck.” the words come out as stutters, almost unintelligible as you wait to be given what you need.

finally, even though isn’t sure why, he lets his trust in you take over. licking a broad stripe up your glimmering folds and groaning to himself at the taste, matt grinds his boxer-only-clad body into the couch, searching for some release.

“god you’re so desperate for this, aren’t you sweetheart?” he chuckles from in between your legs, strong beard rubbing against your skin as you finally let your hands weasel their way into his hair. “so desperate.” you say, and the words tumble out so quick you can’t help the blush that rises on your cheeks.

“little slut, getting this wet for your daddy’s best friend, huh?” he drawls, his voice low and scratching as his lips finally wrap around your clit, a gentle suck making your legs clench around his head.

as you finally feel the exact touch you’ve been asking for, you realise that you’ve both fallen way too deep into this to back out. “i see the way you-ah, fuck, see the way you look at me,” you begin, trying to speak full sentences and failing with his tongue working the way it is, “i know you want this just as much as me.”

there’s a short scoff between your legs, but no reply as you find two of his fingers inside your walls with no build up, the hairs on your body standing up as your moans drift further. “smart mouth isn’t so loud when you’re about to come, huh?” he smirks, wet beard glimmering in the light from his windows.

that’s when it hits you like a train, his fingers still working you through your high, and his hips still grinding into his couch in search of a hint of you.

“holy shit.” is all that leaves your mouth as he sits up, wiping his face with the back of his hand. matt lifts his fingers, fresh with your slick, to your lips - and as you open them and take them in, relishing in the taste of yourself, he says “we should stop now, before it goes too far.” and your heart sinks at the realisation he’s being serious.

“do you not trust me?” you ask him, smirking at your own words from earlier, unsure whether you even trust yourself to keep your feelings separate.

“trust my best friends daughter? not sure if that’s a smart idea, sweetheart.”

tags 🏷️

@lambmurdock @parker-murdock @silas-aeiou @audreyclimbs @pupmurdock @millennial-birkin @poeticbookwormcat

[hello-hellraisers]

Focus on work now, I know wet panties make it difficult. But you gotta be strong. Not think about how they feel, how they stick between your clit, not think how they smell, and not worried about your wetness dripping on your thighs. Don't think any of it while you are acting like a smart girl in front of the laptop. Don't think you have been a nasty whore a few hours earlier for a strange man on the internet and you will be more after your office hour is done. Just focus on that next work email. You will certainly not gonna scroll through your phone again, read the chat, or see the nudes you sent. No, you will focus on the next meeting which will be in min. No, you won't be worried about walking with now dam panties, you will just grab your coffee and try to remember to meeting agenda. No, you will not think how things I said are so fucking true, but you will focus on what others saying in the meeting. Remember you were smart. You can't sit there like a brainless bimbo with pretty office attire, lipstick and make-up. You gotta use that brain. If it left. Don't look at the clock. It's still 8 hours to go before you can jump in the parking lot and edge yourself.

You still have to drive home before you throw yourself in bed and fuck yourself exactly what he mentioned and then send him msg “like yeah you have busy day work, you didn't get much time also the problem at home kept you distracted. Btw was that post about me?”

[nevarrhoe]

mea culpa (m.m) - 2

SUMMARY: "mea culpa" (exclamation - noun/legal term)

used as an acknowledgement of one's fault or error.

↪ in which matt murdock accidentally falls in love with the district attorney's daughter.

warnings: smut, angst, swearing, fem! reader

masterlist

It was a little hard to stop thinking about Matthew Murdock over the next few days. 

Nevermind the fact he’d left hickeys all over your neck - it was the fact he was texting you every few hours with absolutely indescribable fantasies that made it difficult to think about anything else. Your blood would run cold every time your phone buzzed, just on the off chance that one of your friends, or god forbid your father, see your phone screen. It put you on edge in the best way. This entire thing was already beyond fucked up for more than one reason and yet, you wanted more. So much more. 

Can’t wait to taste you again. 

Can’t wait to hear you scream my name again. 

Hope you haven’t been thinking about anyone else. 

And it was funny, really, because Matt was a perfectly respectable man from the outside. Quiet, unassuming, a dry sense of humour - you never would have taken him of all people to be the one to make you feel so fucking alive. It wasn’t just how good he was in bed, but rather the thrill of it all. Nothing got your motor running like a situation’s potential to disappoint your father but hey. That was for your therapist to deal with. 

Of course, your father had asked several questions about where you’d disappeared too after the gala on Friday. He was more concerned about it had looked for him, and to have his daughter run out on a big charity event. Your mother had been less worried about that part, and more about her vintage Chanel suit. You’d settled both their worries by a) telling your father you’d had stomach problems (because who was gonna ask about that?) and b) promising to send the Chanel off to a dry cleaner. 

It was on a slow Monday afternoon - exactly three days after you’d met him - that Matt sent you a not so dirty text. It was so casual, in fact, that it caught you more off guard than any of the filth he’d sent you over the weekend. 

Wanna grab lunch? 

“Are you okay, honey?”

You blinked, eyes shooting up to your best friend. Okay, maybe not a best friend - those were hard to come by in high-society. She was your most tolerable friend. It had been her idea to get martinis for lunch. Your idea of fun wasn’t exactly sitting around with five rich girls and their daddy’s credit cards but it wasn’t like you had work to do, right? 

Part of you so badly wanted to tell them about the escapade over the weekend - about how much better an older guy was than all their ridiculous, frat-house boyfriends, and how good he’d made you feel. But did you trust them? Not with your damn life. And for risk of being cut out of your father’s will, you figured it was something to keep to yourself. 

“Yeah,” you cleared your throat. “I gotta ditch. My dad needs me to get something from his office.”

Grabbing your jacket - a tan Chanel parka, naturally - you slid out of the booth and straight out of the restaurant. Matt’s number was dialed into your phone before you even hit the street. 

“Matthew, hi!” you greeted him. “I’m down for lunch.”

“Perfect,” you could hear the smile in his voice. “Wanna come by my office?”

“Sure. Want me to grab takeout?”

“It’s okay. I already have lunch here.”

“Okay. Text me the address.”

–

The Nelson & Murdock office wasn’t too far from where you’d been. Hell’s Kitchen wasn’t exactly your stomping ground but your Uber had dropped you off right outside, and you had a taser in your bag. Not to mention the years of Krav Maga and karate that you’d done in high school and college. You could have been a damn vigilante if you wanted to. 

It was the shorter, Nelson half of Nelson and Murdock that saw you first. He seemed taken aback at first - maybe by your expensive appearance, but also maybe because every other person in the room was a middle-aged man there for free legal advice. By the looks of your Chanel bag and red-soled shoes, he figured you probably didn’t need any legal advice for free. Especially not from him. It seemed much more apparent that you had the likes of Jeri Hogarth in your pocket should you need any legal assistance. 

“Hello. Hi.” Foggy greeted you with wide eyes. “Do you have an appointment?”

“Uh, no,” you turned around to face him, sticking out your hand. “You’re Nelson, right?”

“I am Nelson,” he replied, shocked look still not faltering. “How do you know my name?”

“I’m a friend of Matt’s,” you explained. “I don’t suppose he’s around?”

Speak of the devil. Your conversation was cut short by Murdock’s entrance. He looked hot in a suave sort of way; tie loosened around his neck, top button undone and sleeves rolled up. It was the first time you’d seen him since you’d left his apartment early on Saturday morning and frankly, you didn’t know how to act. Most of the men you slept with didn’t invite you to their offices for lunch - hell, most of them didn’t have offices. 

“Hey, Murdock,” you gave him a small wave.

“Hey - come in,” Matt shot you a grin, ushering over to his own office in the corner. 

It was neater than you’d thought it would be; there was a laptop perched on his desk, with a braille translator and a stack of legal files. They were probably the same legal files your dad had, just..the other side of the story. After all, Nelson and Murdock were known for looking out for the little guy. That was much more admirable than daddy dearest and his famously corrupt evidence. 

“Your shirt fits better today,” you commented, shrugging off your jacket. “That’s a real shame.”

“Is that a comment about my arms or the way I dress?”

“I think you know that it’s about your arms.”

You pushed aside the files, hopping up onto Matt’s desk. He had you caged in within a second, broad hands gripping your hips and guiding you up into a kiss. It was a little softer than the ones you’d shared on Friday night - there was less heat; a causal air to it. You didn’t think it was possible to miss the lips of a man you’d fucked exactly once. 

“So,” you murmured against him. “You said you had lunch here.”

“I do,” Matt gave you a shit-eating grin. “You.”

“Matthew!” you hissed, hitting his shoulder. “Did you seriously invite me over here just for a fuck?”

“Not exactly!” he quickly replied, raising his hands in surrender. “I wanted to check in with you and see how you were.”

“Oh, okay,” you raised an eyebrow, pleasantly surprised. “I’m not too bad. I was having lunch with some of my friends when you texted-”

Matt suddenly attached his lips to your neck, teeth gently nipping on the same mark he’d left a few days ago. You didn’t mean to let out a moan, but how could you not? 

“Matthew!” you exclaimed again. 

“No, go on!” he stopped for a second. “I’m listening. You were having lunch with your friends and…”

“And you texted and I was bored, so I left and - Jesus fucking Christ, that feels so good.”

Matt raised an eyebrow. “You left your friends to see me?”

“I would leave my dying Aunt Betty’s bedside to see you,” you said. Without a second thought, you grabbed him by the tie and pulled him back towards you. “Enough catching up. I’m good to have lunch now.”

He gave you a grin and a few moments later, his hands found your way under your ass. Matt shoved aside the pile of legal papers and moved you further onto the desk, lips back on your neck and working a thousand times harder than they had before. Instinctively, you tangled a hand in his hair and just let him have at it. 

The build-up wasn’t as tense as it had been the first time you fucked, but that was because Matt knew you better now. He pretty much had you memorised; the ticklish spot on your neck, the most sensitive spot on your hips, the way you liked his nails to dig into your back just enough to hurt. That was just a testament to him. Who else would remember that? Who else would take the time to learn what you liked after just once? 

“Not that I don’t enjoy this,” Matt paused for a second. “But my lunch break isn’t that long. If we’re gonna do this, we’re gonna have to be quick.”

“You’re real cheap, Matthew Murdock,” you scowled. “Do you invite all girls over here for a fuck disguised as lunch and then rush them?”

“No, not all of them,” he shot back. “Some are more breakfast kinda gals-”

“- oh shut the fuck up.”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him back into a kiss. Matt couldn’t help but smile against you - at how badly you wanted him, how you chastised him but still didn’t stop him. 

It was in that moment that you thanked every deity there was that you’d chosen to wear a skirt that day. But frankly, you wouldn’t have given a fuck if Matt had ripped your Versace mini-skirt to shreds. He would have been okay with that too, especially if it meant you have to borrow a shirt of his to leave in. 

Still, Matthew Murdock was nothing if not respectable - at least enough so not to destroy your designer clothes. Instead, he simply pushed it up, large hands making their way to your ass cheeks and giving one of them a light slap. You froze when he did - how many clients were out there in the waiting room right now? Even with the blinds closed and the door shut, how many of them could hear what was going on? 

“Problem?” Matt paused. 

“There are people out there who could hear us-”

“- not with the air conditioning on. Foggy always has it going. Don’t worry.”

You scowled. “How do you know that?”

“Just do.”

Matt wasted no time in resuming his activities. Grabbing you by the hips again, he lifted you with ease and spun you around so that he was the one on the desk, and you were in his lap. The friction of his hard-on in his trousers against your core was almost unbearable and he could tell you were desperate by the way your grip on him suddenly tightened. 

“Look at you,” he grinned. There was something about the way his voice dropped four octaves every time he was about to fuck you. “You’re calling me sloppy but you’re gagging for it, aren’t you?”

You let out a small grumble, shaking your head. “I thought you didn’t have time to tease?”

“You’re lucky that I don’t have time to do a lot of the things I want to do to you, sweetheart,” he said. “Everyone out there would be able to hear me fucking you if I didn’t have to be back in twenty minutes.”

“Matthew,” you growled. “I don’t care how long you have - if you’re not inside me in the next thirty seconds, I’m going somewhere else.”

“I didn’t think there would be many men around at this time willing.”

You let out a derivative snort, acrylic nails dragging down his neck and hand settling ever so gently on his throat. “You think I don’t have plenty of offers? You’re not the only man who can make me scream.”

It was almost like your words awakened something in Matt. In a flash, he’d pulled you off the desk and positioned you against it; there was the sound of his belt and a second later, his dick was inside you. Rock hard and beautiful, and the perfect length to have you clenching around him in mere fucking seconds. 

He wasted no time in pounding into you from behind, one hand tangling his fingers with yours on the desk and the other wrapped around your throat. You had complete and utter trust in him and maybe that was why you placed your own hand over his and encouraged him to squeeze harder. 

Matt’s movements were rapid and consistent: time was of the essence after all, and there was no way in hell he was going back to work until you came. 

It didn’t take much, to be honest. Not when you had his gruff voice muttering things in your ear. It was hard not to make noise then - Matt moved his hand from your throat accordingly, clutching it over your mouth in an attempt to muffle your moans. What an ass. Not to mention that it only made you even fucking louder. 

“Do they make you feel this good?” he teased. “Do they?”

He managed to hit the right spot over and over and it wasn’t long before you felt that knot in your stomach. It was a plunge; like a plane falling out of the sky, anything that caused a sharp drop in your gut. The room was practically spinning around you as you came undone, red acrylics digging into the skin of Matt’s arm for some kind of relief. 

“There we go, sweetheart,” Matt murmured. He softened his pace, slowing down for a minute to revel in his own high. “Good girl.”

He released his hand from your mouth, chest heaving against your back for a minute as you both came down from your respective orgasms. A broad arm wrapped around your waist, steadying you. Matthew Murdock was a gentleman, even when he was rearranging your guts. 

You slowly turned around to face him, pulling him into another desperate kiss. 

“Are you free tomorrow night?” Matt softly asked. 

“Yeah, I am,” you ran a hand down his chest, faltering for a second. “Why? You gonna take me out for dinner?”

“Yeah, but an actual meal. It’s not a euphemism, I promise,” he gave you a grin. 

You returned the gesture for a minute, a wide smile on your face - but then it faltered. “Matthew, I would love for you to take me on a date, and I adore spending time with you but…”

“But what?”

“My dad,” you groaned, dropping your head into his shoulder. “If anyone catches me with you, I’m done for - as hot as that is.”

Matt couldn’t help but chuckle. “Okay, fine. What if we just hang out at my apartment and get take out? You can dress like a slob and no-one will see us.”

“Yeah, that sounds great,” your smile quickly returned. “But I am not dressing like a slob. I wear Chanel or I wear nothing.”

“I would much prefer it if you wore nothing.”

[bbearthyy]

Daryl angst pleeease where Daryl grabs fem!readers face while she is crouched and stoic. just so fearful and unable to move. him being patient over the next few days too.

thanks for the ask!! (and for asking for something that wasn’t smut mwah) ((jk i’m a slut)) i luvvv this idea and hope you like what i did with it!

cw: none that i can think of, typical TWD violence ig, some allusions to past SA? but it’s not detailed at all more so kinda implied, angst leading to fluff, this is first person cause i was struggling to write it in second but there’s no specific name or identifying traits about reader other than a tattoo

this is set like after the war between woodbury and the prison but the governor is dead and everyone lives happily ever after. i know the diff pics of daryl eras make it confusing i’m sorry😭

-(0)-

no more hiding

he’s gonna kill me he’s gonna kill me he’s gonna kill me he’s gonna kill me he’s gonna-

the words echoed through my head, my chest heaving as i tried to catch my breath. i was ducked down behind a tree, the trunk just big enough for me to hide myself. i saw the archer just seconds before he saw me, leaving me with hardly any time to run. but i’ve been running for at least 30 minutes now, and i’m exhausted.

i stopped hearing his footsteps a while back, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t behind me anymore. once i’ve finally caught my breath i make sure my shoes are tied tight; these dirty red converse aren’t suitable for running very far, but it’s not like i can go shoe shopping now.

a branch snapping loudly behind me pulls a gasp from my throat, my head whipping around to see the cause of the sudden noise. my heart stops when i make eye contact with the archer, frozen mid step.

i stand up abruptly to try and run, but in my panic don’t realize that my feet are still pulled close to my body.

i cry out when i feel my ankle twist, falling backwards my back slams into the trunk of another tree. the archers eyes grow wide, his hand outstretched as he begins walking towards me. the man is crouched low, his weapon dropped, his footsteps slow as he tries to make himself seem like less of a threat. but i’ve seen this act many times before, i’m not falling for it again.

i finally find my voice when he gets merely a foot away from me, “no!” the archer stops, eyes wide and burrows furrowed as he opens his mouth to speak. i cut him off before he gets the chance. “i don’t wanna go home with you, i don’t wanna fuck you, i’m not joining your group. yes i’m alone- yes i’ve killed people, and no, i will not hesitate to do it again.”

the man tilts his head, surprise passing over his features. after taking a moment to process my words he clears his throat, bending his knees to sit at my level. “yer ankle okay?”

…

what?

the confusion must be obvious on my face, as the man chuckles before repeating himself, “‘s yer ankle okay? took a nasty fall. might wanna lemme look at it.” he reaches out, hand slowly making its way to my ankle. i wanna push him away, but i’m frozen with fear. this man is far bigger than those that have hurt me before, i’m afraid what he’ll do knowing i’m vulnerable.

the archer looks up when his hand is just inches away from my ankle, and stops. realization passes over his eyes, as he registers my silence and unmoving body as fear and not compliance. “it’s a’right,” he mumbles as his hand retreats back to his body, “swear, ‘m not gonna hurt ya. ma names daryl. what’s yours?”

his heavy southern accent catches me off guard, and i try but fail to hide the small smile creeping up onto my face. daryl produces a little grin of his own at this, but i can tell he doesn’t do it often. an ache burns in my chest seeing such a beautiful smile, with no smile lines or wrinkles to accompany it. he’s doing it to comfort me. i let him.

i clear my throat before mumbling my name, the man nodding slowly in silent acknowledgment. “you’re not here to hurt me?” a pained look flashes over daryl’s face, but it’s so quick i almost feel like i imagined it. “nah,” he says gruffly, “i don’t wanna hurt ya. i’s just tryin’ to make sure you’re alright. saw ya bolt soon as i looked atcha, wanted you to know i was friendly.”

i watch as his left hand twitches before lifting, moving towards my face rather than my ankle this time. i’m tense, but no longer out of fear of him hurting me. it’s been years since i’ve been touched in a way that wasn’t meant to cause harm. my eyes water and daryl’s hand flinches when it’s right beside my cheek. i watch him hesitate, he clearly doesn’t show affection often.

finally, after what feels like hours, daryl’s hand cups my cheek, his thumb rubbing against my cheek bone softly, as if he’s afraid too much pressure would break me. a tear falls from the pools in my eyes and daryl’s quick to catch it, but he doesn’t say anything. he understands, i think.

i press my check further into his hand, sighing softly. my eyelids feel heavy, but i fight to stay awake. exhaustion is creeping it, that accompanied with being dehydrated and hurting my ankle makes it nearly impossible to keep my eyes open.

“hey,” daryl mumbles, keeping his voice low so he doesn’t scare me. i open my eyes wider, and the man doesn’t speak until he can tell he has my full attention. “i know ya already said you wouldn’t,” he begins, “but i got a family. we live somewhere not far from here, somewhere safe. got fences surrounding the place. there’s kids there, community.”

i rest my head in his hand, no longer trying to hold it up on my own. i’m almost positive he’s talking about the prison i spotted a while back, but was too afraid to venture towards, so i ask. “the prison?” my voice shows my obvious exhaustion, but i’m so scared to let myself be vulnerable in front of someone.

daryl seems surprised i knew what he was talking about, but nods quickly. “yeah, the prison. i wanna take you there. get that ankle looked at. you gon’ let me?” i don’t want to, fear reaching out and taking a tight grip on my heart. but daryl seems kind, trustworthy, like i could rely on him for anything. so, after a moment, my lips part. “…ok.”

the corner of his mouth twitches, a smile itching to show itself. “ok,” he agrees. “can you walk?” i place a hand on the trunk behind me and against his arm for balance, i pull myself up to stand, but as soon as i put pressure on my ankle i collapse. daryl is quick to catch me, a grunt of surprise leaving his lips. “sorry, i’m sorry. i thought i could,” i scramble to defend myself.

daryl shakes his head, brushing me off. “c’mere,” the archer mumbles. he placed an arm behind my legs and my back, lifting me up bridal style as if i weigh nothing. i’m too tired to argue, my head falling weakly against his chest. daryl walks towards his belongings, scooping up his crossbow and bag. he places me down just long enough to place both items on his back, asking if i have any possessions of my own. if daryl sees the sadness behind my eyes when i shake my head he doesn’t mention it, simply lifting me into his arms once more.

my eyes slip shut as he walks, basking in the feeling of finally being off my feet. i don’t open my eyes when he stops walking, nor do i flinch when he sits on something, placing me in his lap as curled up as he could without disturbing me. i feel the rumble of an engine beneath me, and barely register the fact that we’re on a motorcycle before sleep takes over, daryl driving slowly home.

~*~

the next few days were nothing short of stressful. when i arrived at the prison i was fading in and out of consciousness, daryl having to carry me inside. he placed me on a bed in the cell block, and introduced me to a man named hershel before i passed out.

after sleeping for a day and getting my ankle fixed up by hershel, i met the rest of the people inside the prison. they welcomed me with open arms, daryl’s family that is- not everyone was as kind. i’d learned to differentiate between the people who’d actually fought for the prison, and those who were brought here.

daryl’s family fought tooth and nail to get the place cleared and make it a home worth living in, and i could tell they took pride in it. they were all kind souls, with memories of a war burning behind they’re eyes. i like carl, he’s sweet. when i was first introduced to him he squinted at me, the slits of his eyes and the tilt of his head immediately putting me on edge. to be 13 years old, the kid was terrifying.

“i like your tattoo,” he’d mumbled, about an hour after our introduction. i turned to ask him which one, but he was behind me, so the only one visible to him must’ve been the one between my shoulder blades.

“it’s a dragonfly, right?” carl continued speaking, taking my silence as the bit of acknowledgment it was. “they’re my favorite bug, used to be my mom’s favorite too. i always thought if i saw one it’d be her, letting me know she was here. i haven’t seen one until now.” i knew right then and there that i’d kill anyone or anything that tried to hurt the little sheriff.

i get along with carol pretty well too, which daryl seems to appreciate. i can tell he really cares about her, but their relationship is more older sister/little brother than it is romantic. right now i’m curled up in a ball on my bunk, reading a book beth had recommended to me. the plot is kind of hard to keep up with, so i’m stuck halfway through the book flipping back and forth to figure out how i got here.

a knocking on the doorframe of my cell puts a momentary pause on my flipping, my eyes glancing upwards to see who was disturbing me during my free time. a smile lights up my face when i realist just daryl, patting the bed beside me and waiting for him to take a seat i continue flitting through the pages. i don’t notice daryl’s stare burning wholes into the side of my head until he clears his throat, the noise making my face snap towards him.

“you okay?” my voice was quiet, almost incomprehensible, but daryl heard me. “yeah,” he mumbled, tone matching mine. i open my mouth to protest, clearly seeing that there’s something on his mind, when he moves. instinctively i flinch, but daryl’s hands cup my jaw firmly as his lips press against mine. the kiss lasts about five seconds before i’m pulling away, gasping for breath.

my wide eyes meet daryl’s, his filled with worry, mine with confusion. “i don’t, uh,” the archer mumbles, “i don’ really know how to use words for stuff like this. but- i really like you. an’ you don’t have ta like me back. i jus’ needed to tell you cause my chest kinda aches when i see you playing with carl or sitting with carol and yer so comfortable with them but you ain’t with me an-“

i press my lips against his in a passionate kiss, effectively stopping his rant before it turned into a panic attack. once i was sure he’d calmed down, i pulled back. making sure daryl was listening, i replied, “i really, really like you, daryl dixon.” a grin overtakes his face, daryl seemingly not noticing. but the man buried his face in my neck, arms wrapping around my waist as he tried tucking himself into me.

my giggles fill the small room, daryl scoffing a laugh against my neck as he lays me down. “dare,” i huff, “what are you doing?” the archer simply readjusts his position on top of me, grabbing the blanket to cover us both. “sleepin’,” he mumbles, like it’s the only logical answer. and maybe it is.