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haerni · 9 months ago

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+ yn killing jay just because he killed sunghoon??? THE SAME MAN WHO WROTE ABOUT HER DEATH SO MANY TIMES???? Insane twisted and just so SMART??!?? still holding the same affection for him even after all the things he revealed the twisted love she had for sunghoon onfgwhydg IM SCREAMING it felt like her emotions were my emotions it was so scarily good??!?!!

against the world

PAIRING ▸ park sunghoon x fem!reader x sim jaeyun (ft. park jongseong)

GENRES ▸ fluff, angst, psychological, horror, thriller

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, murder, descriptions of gore, unrequited love, found family, friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, mc is an unreliable narrator

SUMMARY ▸ if you could change anything about your life, it would be meeting park sunghoon.

WORD COUNT ▸ 14,064 words

PLAYLIST ▸ back to black by amy winehouse • the french library by franz gordon • perfectly splendid by the newton brothers

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ hello !! this fic is a rewrite of one of my first horror fics that i’ve written :') it badly needed reworking and i completely changed the ending. i hope you guys enjoy my spooky szn contribution ♡

THE TRUTH WAS, YOUR LIFE BEGAN TO FALL APART EVEN BEFORE YOU MET SIM JAEYUN.

You realized this as you woke up, face pressed against the ice-cold, concrete floor of a holding cell; when the guards dragged your uncooperative, limp body into an interrogation room; when you were face-to-face with Detective Lee Heeseung and handcuffed to a cold, metal table as he read your Miranda Rights. The handcuffs dug into the flesh of your wrists, but you only fought against them once and gave up as soon as you realized they wouldn’t give in. You just wanted to thumb away the crusted blood staining your hands and pick out the flakes under your nails.

The room was foreign to you. It was something you’d seen in movies and read in books, but you never fathomed the idea of being in an interrogation room yourself. There was a two-way glass that you aimlessly stared at, wondering who was listening in on the other end.

You couldn’t figure out just how you ended up in this situation. Everything was smooth in your memory up until your supposed arrest—a tear in the fabric of your recollection. You hardly remembered what happened on the way to the police station or when you were getting booked in. You dug your palms into your temples and then pressed against the soft flesh under your eyes, frustrated by the stunted gears in your head. As much as you begged than to click and start spinning, they remained stuck and rusted in place.

But you couldn’t ask the brooding man standing over you. You couldn’t look up into his cold, unforgiving eyes. After all, he knew you were a murderer.

“There’s no use in lying to me, Y/N,” Detective Lee said gruffly with a gaze like steel, “the prints match.”

You drummed your fingers against the table—a habit that was rooted in your anxiety. Your fingers were stained and pruned like roses, and as hard as you tried to paint the table red, it only flaked off. You were sure your heartbeat was faster than the tapping of your fingers, your mind perhaps speeding off twice as fast.

Your stomach twisted. If Jaeyun was going to prison, too, then you could no longer protect him.

There was a limit to how much he could take; you knew that being thrown in the slammer would be intolerable for him. You knew you needed to get to him immediately because Jaeyun was the guy who felt too little and too much at the same time—the guy who looked for the part of him that ran away, who self-destructed when he felt the world closing in on him.

After all, Jaeyun was a stick of trinitrotoluene lit at both ends.

You worked up the courage to look Detective Lee in the eye, which made him stiffen up, biceps flexing under his white button-up.

“Where’s Jaeyun?” you asked.

Detective Lee’s lips pressed into a thin, grim line. Cutting into his pale cheeks. You decided that couldn’t be a good reaction.

You continued, “He didn’t do anything, I swear. He was just there. He didn’t do anything.”

“If you cooperate with us, then you can see Jaeyun again,” the detective answered in a clipped tone. “I can sit here all day and wait.”

Cooperate. You hated that word.

You knew Detective Lee was just trying to sugarcoat your betrayal. You knew he was looking down on you, ready to push you to your limit.

But there was nothing you could do in this room. There was no way for you to escape or talk your way out of it to see Jaeyun. You knew quite well that staying silent would only prevent you from making sure your boyfriend was okay.

You had no other choice but to work with Detective Lee.

“Will you at least make sure he’s not hurt?” you inquired, to which Detective Lee agreed with a nod.

“I’ll ask again: Will you cooperate?”

You stayed silent. You despised your old habit of shutting down like this, but you couldn’t help it.

Detective Lee sighed and sat in the chair across from you so that you both were eye-level with each other. “Listen, Y/N, you’re young. This murder investigation—this is serious stuff, okay? We just need to know the full story before we jump to any conclusions and make a false arrest. Can we start from last night?”

Deep down, you understood. But it’s all too fresh—too soon. The grief had yet to settle. The recollections of blood and lifeless eyes poisoned your head; it was all you could see when you closed your eyes.

You sounded hollow when you said, “It didn’t… start from last night.”

Detective Lee acknowledged this and leaned forward, hands clasped in front of him. “Then let’s hear it from the beginning.”

If you could change anything about your life, it would be meeting Park Sunghoon.

Your first meeting was at the age of fourteen. Moving schools was an unexpected shift in your life, and you didn't expect to find many friends at your new school. Starting new in the beginning of the year was one thing, but entering unknown territory with people already acclimated in their respective groups was another.

People flocked to comfort, and you were sure that no one would want to step out of their comfort zone to bring a stranger into their friend group.

And then Sunghoon swooped in, like an angel sent from the heavens.

Initially, he was awkward. You were both fourteen-years-old and going through the initial stages of puberty—all voice cracks and awkward intervals of growth stunts. Sunghoon was soft-spoken and didn’t have many friends when he approached and befriended you.

It started when you both found out you shared a love for novels. You spent hours talking about your favorite books, and Sunghoon shared his dream of wanting to craft the perfect story. Oftentimes, Sunghoon would share some of his writing with you, and then his eyes would sparkle upon hearing your feedback.

You two were classmates, sitting right next to each other in the back of the classroom, conveniently right next to the door. You got to know Sunghoon slowly—the same gradual feeling of starting to care for someone. You knew his boundaries, though, because you were aware that you could never be the closest to Sunghoon. He and Park Jongseong were attached at the hip, and you couldn’t lie to yourself; you felt like a third wheel in the beginning.

But there was some comfort in the security of your friendship.

“It’s you and me,” Sunghoon would tell you, “the two of us against the world.”

You knew you should have been grateful to have made friends in the first place, but you didn’t exactly know if you belonged with them. As comfortable as you felt, there was always a whisper in the back of your head, telling you that you would never be their number one.

You would never be anyone’s number one.

“I don’t understand girls,” Jongseong said one day, hands tucked behind his head as the three of you were hanging out in Sunghoon’s room. You were flipping through some comic book that Sunghoon had laying around, and you shifted uncomfortably upon hearing the question.

“You don’t have to.” Sunghoon’s eyes flitted from you, and then back to his phone. He swiped through some apps, but you could tell he wasn’t really paying attention judging by the glazed-over look in his eyes. “Girls make no sense at this age.”

Jongseong nudged you. “You have anything to say about that, Y/N?”

To be honest, you didn’t understand yourself much either. You were just starting to go through puberty, and it wasn’t ideal for a teenager as young as you to only have guy friends. You couldn’t relate to any of the girls your age, nor could you ask them if they were going through the same changes you were.

You were acquainted with several girls, of course, but you never got close enough to ask what feelings and experiences they had. You wanted to know if they were becoming as conscious of themselves and others like you were, but you kept those questions bottled up since you only had Sunghoon and Jongseong.

“Nope,” you replied. “I couldn’t tell you.”

You supposed Jongseong was having girl problems again, and it all clicked because lately, he had been hanging around a pretty girl in their class. They were cute together and clearly into each other, but you could pick up on the issue: Jongseong was on the down-low about their relationship. More importantly, he had been on the down-low about it around Sunghoon, which had to have been breaking some sort of best friend code.

Jongseong asked, “You like anyone, Hoon?”

Hoon, your brain echoed, and you imagined yourself using the name as casually as Jongseong did. It sounded awkward coming from you, though. Friends gave each other nicknames, right? What if you gave Sunghoon a nickname? How would he react?

Sunghoon flushed behind his phone screen. You could tell he wanted it to go undetected, but you caught a glimpse of his flustered expression before he was able to compose himself.

“Oh, not really,” he replied with an air of indifference. “I dunno. I guess I haven’t really been looking.”

“How about you, Y/N?”

You faltered for a moment before you realized you had been addressed. It was a normal question; you should have expected it, but it hit you like a tornado and your mind was swirling. Dating had crossed your mind a few times, sure, you had never prepared an answer because you thought it was going to be straightforward—a simple “yeah, there’s a few cute guys in class.” But that wasn’t the case this time, and you were wondering why there wasn’t any clarity in your head.

Come on, Y/N, you urged yourself, as if you were complaining to multiple, uncooperating attendants working in your brain. Just say something—anything.

Your mind was blanking, though, and you were scared. You couldn’t quite grasp why your stomach felt like a never-ending pit, but it only worsened when you couldn’t spit some guy’s name out. You wanted to open up your skull, thoroughly examine your head, poke at the areas refusing to work, and figure out who you couldn’t just list some attractive guy in class; on top of that, you wondered why you couldn’t just flat-out refuse the statement and claim that there was no one you were interested in.

You were struck with a painful realization that there was only one person you could think of.

Sunghoon.

No, no, no, your brain and your heart screamed at each other. Get ahold of yourself.

You quickly decided that it was just a passing feeling that you needed to suppress until it went away. It was just stupid teenage hormones and puberty making you feel this way and starving you of affection that you didn’t actually need in the first place. If you didn’t get a hold over yourself, you were going to crumble and ruin the good things you had going.

You internally convinced yourself that everything was fine. There were plenty of teenagers your age who had moments of weakness like this with their guy friends. You just needed to branch out more, that was all.

Sheepishly, you replied before the boys could chew you out, “There’s no one I’m interested in right now.”

You weren’t a very good liar, but as long as Sunghoon and Jongseong were sold, you were content with how things were.

Your group expanded when you turned fifteen, and you and Sunghoon grew closer—maybe even closer than Sunghoon and Jongseong were.

You were laying down in your bed one night, breaking into sobs when you realized that you needed more than one hand to count the number of friends you had now. Your shell was broken and your world was bigger. You normally lived like your uphills were mountains and your downhills were cliffs, but, lately, the mountains were getting easier to climb and the downhills weren’t that big of a drop. You didn’t need to stop and catch your breath or worry about hurting yourself on the way down.

You never felt lonely anymore. If Sunghoon or Jongseong weren’t free, you would call Nishimura Riki to catch grasshoppers in the creek with you, or you’d go play video games with Yang Jungwon. Kim Sunoo called you nearly every night to bother you, but you didn’t mind. You liked them; they made you feel important, like you were wanted.

“Come on,” Sunghoon teased Jungwon one day as he was blushing over some girl. “What are you being so shy about?”

“It’s embarrassing!” Jungwon complained, and you giggled over how a flush of red started creeping from his ears to his cheeks. “I’m not a smooth-talker like you are, Hoon.”

Sunghoon snorted. “I’m not a smooth-talker.”

“He’s practically, like, bulletproof,” Jongseong chimed in. “We can’t tease him about anyone. He just brushes it off.”

“I’m not bulletproof,” Sunghoon argued, but anyone could see the pride behind his expression. “I’m just not interested in anyone right now.”

You thought you had finally squashed the weird, gooey feeling that arose in your chest every now and then whenever Sunghoon came close. It was primarily due to the fact that Sunghoon was a respectful individual who didn’t try to weasel his way into your personal bubble as he pleased. That was probably for the best because you were sure your brain would go haywire if Sunghoon was too close for comfort.

And then there was Sim Jaeyun.

Jaeyun entered your circle pretty easily. With his radiant personality and warm presence, it was no shocker that he was accepted by the group instantly. He possessed some odd charm that drew people to him, and you couldn’t seem to figure just how that worked. You were almost jealous of him, honestly, with how much of a social butterfly he was.

Out of all of them, Jaeyun seemed to take a particular interest in you. It drove you crazy, though, and you couldn’t figure out how to get the guy to stop teasing and messing around with you. The others couldn’t figure it out either; you just weren’t as bright and bubbly as Jaeyun was, so it was odd that he kept nagging the one person whose wavelength wasn’t on par with his.

Sometimes it was cute—endearing even—but sometimes it was just flat-out irritating.

“Hey, Y/N.” Jake grinned, and his voice was all light and airy as he approached you. “What’re you doing for the summer break?”

“Probably sleeping in, hanging out with the others, and some more sleeping,” you replied, hardly sparing him a single glance.

You were too focused on clearing out your locker of all the books and papers you had tossed in during the year. Gotta keep this, gotta throw this away, gotta return this one, you rattled off in your head, mentally preserving a reminder of your various items. But Jaeyun knew how to push your buttons and grab your attention. He never took your deflection without retaliating back. That was one of the many reasons why you found it so difficult to be around him.

“And hanging out with Sunghoon, huh? Have you realized it yet, or are you still pretending it’s not there?”

You closed your locker with a swift swipe of your hand, revealing Jaeyun’s smug expression. Your eyes were practically bugging out of your sockets as you stared him down. Somehow, you knew exactly what he was hinting at, but you refused to spell it out for him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you questioned, but Jaeyun was already walking away from you. He was turned away, but you could visualize that stupid smirk of his like it was carved into your memory.

Jaeyun was smart. Too smart.

Your summer was filled with laughter, beach trips, and shy glances at Sunghoon. He drove you around places and you sat in the passenger’s seat next to him, toes curled in your shoes because you were so overjoyed. The car was always loud with music and laughter, and whenever it was silent, it was because everyone else was sleeping on each other after a long day of being outside.

You still masqueraded around, playing the role of Sunghoon’s best friend who definitely had zero romantic feelings toward him. It was quite hard when you had to pretend like your heart didn’t flutter whenever Sunghoon’s fingers brushed against yours.

“Sunghoon,” Jaeyun would complain, rousing laughter from everyone at how impatient he was, “are we there yet?”

“You’re so annoying,” Sunghoon retorted, clearly as a joke. You couldn’t help but laugh at his outburst, but it quickly died on your lips once you caught a glimpse of Jaeyun winking at you in the side mirror.

Jaeyun had a mischievous glint in his eyes when he said, “But you still love me, Hoon.”

Oh.

He was trying to make you jealous.

You fought down the urge to laugh at him. You might have been harboring a small crush, but you were never the jealous type, especially not over petty things like this. There was one little thing, however, that you couldn’t seem to shake.

For some reason, the anticipation to call Sunghoon by a nickname made you anxious. You never tested it on your tongue; it just floated around in your head. However, when you addressed him as Hoon one day, your heart skipped a beat when Sunghoon responded with a smile that rivaled the brightness of the sun.

You grew closer to Jongseong, too. You didn’t feel like the third wheel with him and Sunghoon anymore; you felt like you were all at the same level of closeness. You and Jongseong hung out sometimes without Sunghoon, and despite a few awkward pauses in your interactions, you two warmed up quickly and you learned how to joke around with him easily.

Jongseong wasn’t all stiff and dry like you were initially afraid of; rather, he was surprisingly fun, and every time you learned something new about him, like how he adored cats but was allergic to them, you were even more amazed.

It wasn’t just Jongseong, though. You and Sunghoon grew far closer than ever before, whether that was for the better or worse.

Sunghoon only lived a street away, so it was convenient to hang out, and when you didn’t hang out with him, you two called each other. You could see him unravel in front of your eyes; he became visibly more comfortable when it was just the two of you—smiling, laughing, and bursting into laughter with tears of unrestrained happiness.

It wasn’t just the jubilant memories that tugged you two closer, though. It was also the despair.

In the first place, it was an accident that you even happened to break down in front of Sunghoon.

You two were in his room when it happened, and things were as they always had been before you sensed the calm before the storm. You joked around as usual and passed the time by playing video games. Sunghoon was perched on his usual spot in the corner of the bed. You looked over at him and realized how close you two had become as friends.

Friends. Just friends.

It was right at that moment when you realized that this wasn’t what you wanted. You didn’t want to just be Sunghoon’s best friend. You wanted to be the reason why he smiled, the one to make him blush, and the one he could share his pain and happiness with.

But your feelings were the scariest thing you’ve ever had to face, and you felt ashamed for even wanting to cross the line drawn between you and Sunghoon.

You couldn’t dare bring yourself to confess. You were almost positive that Sunghoon didn’t feel the same way, and you would be risking a fall-out in your current relationship if you admitted anything. What if Sunghoon ended up hating you? What if you lost him and all of your other friends? What if you weren’t the closest person to him anymore?

That was why you felt like Sunghoon was in another dimension, always a layer away. Always.

This was your own fault. You were the one who fell for your best friend. You were the one who did this to yourself. You broke your own heart.

You couldn’t help it when you started falling apart in front of him. It started with a broken cough that was supposed to cover up a sniffle. You were thankful for the loud battle sounds in the game that drowned out your quiet sobbing. But the video game didn’t stop Sunghoon from noticing your shaking hands gripping the controller.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m okay.”

Your voice is so shaky, so broken. Sunghoon knew you were crying before he could see or hear it.

He paused the game and put the controller down, but your eyes were still trained on the screen, hands shaking as you clutched the controller until you were white-knuckled. Sunghoon was on edge—panicked. Although, it was a different kind of panic from all the times you would be stressing over an assignment and Sunghoon would offer some lame piece of advice in return.

“What happened? What’s wrong?” His tone was frantic now as he searched your face for an answer.

You smiled, although faint melancholy was tucked away in the curl of your lip. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

“Now, I know that’s not true.”

Your smile broke. It was so unfortunate that Park Sunghoon had to have a heart so big.

You could almost hear Jaeyun in the back of your head: Have you realized it yet, or are you still pretending it isn’t there?

You started crying, and it wasn’t something soft with a gradual crescendo. It was loud and all at once, like a wounded animal. Your hands shook more, and you finally dropped your controller, burying your fingers into your roots, as if tugging your hair hard enough would make it all stop, as if it would hurt more than the ache in your chest.

Sunghoon was quick to get off his bed and slide to the ground, right next to you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and it only made you feel ashamed. You stiffened up and shrunk back, hoping he wouldn’t notice how you tensed up at his touch. You could hear your own heartbeat, but you were pretty sure you were hyperventilating at a faster pace than the pounding in your chest. The world under you moved, bounced, so you decided to lean into Sunghoon.

The logical half of your brain informed you in a calm, clipped manner that you were having a panic attack. The other half meanwhile was screaming and shutting itself down.

Five things you can see, four things you can touch, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste, you tried telling yourself, but your senses overwhelmed you completely. Your tears were blurring your vision, you couldn’t hear anything but your sobs, and your lungs felt as if they were on fire.

“Y/N, talk to me,” came the softest voice that eased the painful ringing in your ears.

“I can’t,” you stuttered out. “Not right now.”

You wish you hadn’t let it get to this point. You were completely humiliating yourself in front of Sunghoon right now. This was the one thing you couldn’t let him find out about.

Your heavy gasps grew more labored. You then curled into yourself, sweaty hands tugging and knotting at your hair. And, shit, you couldn’t breathe.

“I can’t, I can’t,” you repeated again and again, like a broken record. The desperation in your voice was so ugly.

There was something fierce in Sunghoon’s eyes, like he was ready to protect you from anything or anyone that tried to hurt you, but there was also softness in his voice. “You know, you can tell me anything. Whatever it is, I’ll hear you out. I don’t want you to suffer alone, Y/N.”

With a small smile, he added, “It’s just you and me, right? The two of us against the world.”

That only made you cry even more. You just replayed Sunghoon’s words in your head, like it was your favorite song.

“Alright.” You breathed in real deep, through the aching chest and everything. “It’s really stupid.”

“If it makes you cry this hard, it can’t be stupid.”

You bit your lip, embarrassed. “I think I like someone—someone I can’t have.”

Sunghoon didn’t respond for a moment, and it rattled your brain. He probably was wondering this underwhelming confession warranted a breakdown from you, and you couldn’t blame him. However, it was the only way you could avoid lying to your best friend without giving him the whole truth.

For a split second, you wondered if Sunghoon simply just didn’t hear you. But you didn’t want to repeat yourself; you didn’t like repeating yourself.

To your surprise, Sunghoon just smiled. “Do I know them?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words were stringing together in your head to form a coherent sentence.

“Uh, well, you don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready,” Sunghoon continued. He flushed and flicked his thumb under his nose—an awkward mannerism of his that you grew to love over the years. “Actually, I think we’re in the same boat. There’s someone I like, too. Someone I can’t have.”

His words bounced in your skull. Settled. Bounced again.

“Really?” you spluttered out, and it took you a moment to recuperate from the heavy sadness that was filling your chest. You brought yourself to ask, “I mean, you’re so popular, so why don’t you just ask them out?”

“Can’t.”

“Why not? Are they dating someone else?”

There was a sad smile on Sunghoon’s lips when he answered, “No, Jongseong likes her, too.”

At the age of sixteen, you realized that you couldn’t get over Sunghoon, but you could suppress your heartbreak and lingering feelings.

It physically hurt to think about how deeply ingrained your concept of friendship was with him, and the possibility that Park Sunghoon would never think of you as more than a friend. You two had shared too many experiences—worn each other’s shoes and walked miles—to ever become more than what you were.

Nothing would ever change.

You were hanging out by a creek near Jongseong’s house. It was just the two of you—no Jaeyun to poke fun at you, and no Sunghoon to distract you. It was just the two of you, and it was somehow so easy to be with Jongseong like this. You could laugh with your stomach and smile with your eyes without feeling the need to close up or shut down.

“It’s getting annoying, isn’t it?” Jongseong asked under his breath at one point. When you shot him a puzzled look, he clarified, “Sunghoon.”

You picked up on Jongseong’s annoyance toward Sunghoon over the past few weeks, but his words confirmed your suspicions now. You wondered if it was geared toward the girl they both liked—whoever she was.

You never thought to ask, mainly because you didn’t want to know. Either way, if Sunghoon wanted to share, he would’ve done so already.

You swallowed down the lump in your throat, trying to grab at words and shove them together, but you genuinely didn’t know what to say.

It had always been you, Sunghoon, and Jongseong. You never thought about them turning on each other. The very idea made you feel sick to your stomach.

Over the past week, you had seen Sunghoon’s indifference toward Jongseong, but you were too afraid to ask about it. Your friend group was slow to pick up on it, but you noticed the way Sunghoon would purposely avoid conversing with Jongseong, or the way Jongseong would walk quickly past him if they crossed paths. It was odd, though, because everyone knew that Sunghoon and Jongseong were the best of friends—inseparable. How could you hold onto someone for so long and just let go of them like that?

You recalled that Jongseong and Jungwon went over to talk to Sunghoon about his moody behavior, but Jongseong never told you whether the talk went well or not. You figured it just never happened because Jungwon called in sick the very next day.

You prayed that he would hurry up and get over his cold. He had been out sick all week, which checked out since everyone was getting sick around this time of the year. Jungwon would know how to get Sunghoon and Jongseong to reconcile. He was always the friend that helped everyone patch things up.

“You guys are best friends,” was all you could say. “You’ll make up in a few days, right?”

Jongseong clicked his tongue loud enough to make your skin crawl.

But you didn’t want to drop it this time, you asked, “Seriously, what happened between you guys?”

For a moment, you wondered if you should’ve brought up what Sunghoon confessed to you—about him and Jongseong liking the same girl. But this couldn’t have been about that; Sunghoon would never let a girl get between his friendships.

“Sunghoon’s hiding something dark,” Jongseong blurted out. “I don’t think I can get him out of this one.”

“Something dark? What is it?”

“I don’t really know—”

“Jongseong,” you cut in. “If you know something, then just say it. He’s my best friend, too.”

Jongseong shifted uncomfortably, restless. He was silent for a long period of time, so you just waited for him to collect his thoughts. Uneasiness bursted from the tips of your fingers and crawled under your skin. You felt the heat of the sun against your face, so you looked up and covered your eyes with a hand, blinking back red.

“If Sunghoon did something unforgivable,” he started in a murmur, “would you forgive him?”

“I don’t know,” was all you could say.

“Yeah,” Jongseong replied, his terse words nearly making you flinch. “I don’t know, either.”

The sun grew hotter against your face, and all you could see was blood red behind your eyes.

You didn’t know how exactly it started, but you slowly started to find solace in Jaeyun.

You didn’t want to admit it, but you were starting to care for him a little more than the people around you. You were starting to get swayed by him—the things he said, the way he looked at you—and it scared you a little.

But Jaeyun felt safe. He felt like home.

You two called at night, sometimes. You weren’t normally one to be vulnerable in front of others, but you shed some tears in front of Jaeyun a couple of times.

The only other person you had cried in front of was Sunghoon.

“It’s kinda sad,” Jaeyun told you one day. You two were spending the afternoon studying together at his place, and you were feeling self-conscious because you were starting to regret not dressing a little cuter. “I’ve known you for a year, but we’ve only gotten close now.”

“I don’t think either of us cared about deepening our friendship back then.”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “You think I didn’t want to be closer? How do you think I picked up on you liking Sunghoon?”

“Because I was obvious about it?”

“No, idiot, because I like you.”

You blinked a few times until you fully processed his words. I like you, your brain repeated, and then you reprocessed the information.

No, there was an ‘idiot’ before that. Not only were you liked, but he thought you were stupid, as well.

You became painfully aware of your knees touching Jaeyun’s, but you still couldn’t wrap your head around the idea of him liking you romantically. You had never been in this position. Since your crush on Sunghoon had been one-sided for the past few years, you never expected to be on the receiving end.

“You…” you trailed off, floundering to find something to say—something that wouldn’t make you sound stupid or mean. You settled with, “You, too?”

His eyes beamed with hope. “For a year now.”

Your world was so small before. It was just you, Sunghoon, and Jongseong.

Before you could even wonder if there was space in your heart for Jaeyun, you realized that you had already let him burrow his way in there.

“Can I kiss you?” Jaeyun asked.

You couldn’t help but breathe out a laugh, and every once of nervousness slipped away. You always thought you could attain this level of closeness with Sunghoon, but maybe your relationship with him was just that fragile—where you could just grab the string binding you two together and snip it completely.

But it was different with Jaeyun.

“Yeah,” you answered, smiling, “you can.”

And then, with Jaeyun’s breath fanning your lips, you felt Sunghoon completely dissolve from the impounding thoughts racking your brain. Right now, it was Jaeyun and only Jaeyun.

You leaned in first, cupping his cheek and pressing your lips against Jaeyun’s soft ones. It was weird, kissing for the first time, but he leaned into it instantly so that your movements were less awkward and more guided.

A fire blazed inside of you, burning hotter than imaginable. You didn’t expect Jaeyun to drive you this crazy—to crave more, to want more. You drew back before you slid your hand into his hair, although you were tempted to go further when his pillowy lips peppered soft kisses along your jawline.

But you didn’t want to go overboard or ruin anything by going too fast. You settled for leaving another chaste kiss against his lips before pulling back, and you were delighted when you saw how pleased Jaeyun was. He was practically glowing.

From then on, you and Jaeyun had a relationship that extended past something platonic, but it wasn’t like you two were official. Naturally, you ended up confiding in him over everything.

While Sunghoon still held a place in your heart as your first love, you grew to care for Jaeyun, who kindled a gentler fire in you. Sunghoon, on the other hand, left you burned and scarred.

You didn’t want to rush into a relationship, mainly because you didn’t want Jaeyun to think he was a rebound, and he respected that. So he waited for you to figure out your feelings and let your heart choose who was right for you.

You weren’t stupid, though; you knew that chasing after Sunghoon was a hopeless cause.

You and Jaeyun drifted about in a limbo-state of your relationship. You two went on a couple of dates, got to know each other at a deeper level, and spent a lot of time together. He became the person you thought about when you were falling asleep and when you woke up in the morning.

You two got along surprisingly well, and you wondered why you ever had doubts about him in the beginning. Sure, Jaeyun still got on your nerves at times, but you just found it funny after the wave of annoyance passed.

Your friends started to talk about how close you two were and frequently brought up the idea of you two dating. Of course, you always denied it, enjoying the privacy you and Jaeyun had.

But as your relationship blossomed into something more serious, you decided that you didn’t want things to stay casual any longer. So, you asked him out, and Jaeyun, being the lovesick puppy he was, accepted without a second thought.

You thought about how much had changed in your life. Sunghoon stopped hanging out with you completely, resorting to being alone most of the time. Everyone was concerned about his behavior, but after several attempts of failed confrontation, they all collectively gave up. You and Jongseong still kept an eye on him, using roundabout ways to find out how he was doing; it was the most you two could do given how little opportunity you had to talk to him.

You didn’t share many classes with Jongseong anymore, but you two were still close, even after your “two of us against the world” friendship with Sunghoon had gone to shit.

Jongseong was kind, though, and despite how he was rough around the edges, he was gentle enough.

But he knew that Sunghoon was hiding something dark, and that alone made you somewhat nervous around him.

You felt unsettled the entire day, but when your group chat started flooding with texts about Jungwon in the middle of the night, you felt an icy chill travel down your spine.

It was all over the news. The whole story about him being down with the flu was just a cover-up while authorities were looking for him.

You felt nauseous.

HIGH SCHOOL STUDENT FOUND DEAD NEAR WOODS. FOUL PLAY SUSPECTED.

The 16-year-old boy was found dead at the scene. The parents of the deceased student have identified him as Yang Jungwon. As of now, there are no leads, but authorities have ruled the case as a homicide.

Police have asked anyone with information to contact their local police department.

You read the headline again. Over and over again until your vision was blurry and the words were convoluted. Your fingers were raw and bitten down to the nail bed by the time you were able to put your phone down so that you could just cry into your hands.

By the time you got around to reading the details, grimacing at the descriptions of mutilation done to Jungwon’s body and how his body had been decomposing for weeks now, you had to run to your toilet and dry heave everything out.

You weren’t the closest to Jungwon or anything, but imagining such a bright person meet such a horrific end wasn’t easy to process. For hours, you ignored all of the calls and texts and attempts to comfort from your parents. You stared straight at your wall—so terrified that your chest hurt and your breathing was ragged.

Later that night, when the world was quiet and dreaming, you received a text from Sunghoon.

sunghoon: Hey sunghoon: I’ve been thinking about you. Are you doing okay? sunghoon: I haven’t been a good friend lately, I’m sorry sunghoon: It’s still the two of us against the world

There was a time when those words made you feel like you were on top of the world, soaring high over the clouds.

Now, though, all you could feel was a horrible sensation of dread.

It had been months since Sunghoon and Jongseong’s falling out.

You were seventeen now, but you felt hollower as you aged. Sunghoon showed up to school and lingered within your group silently, only contributing when spoken to directly. He didn’t approach you anymore or ask to hang out after school. Actually, no one knew what he did after school. He would head straight home and then go completely off the radar.

Gone off the rails, as Sunoo called it.

You cried several nights over it. You felt like not only was your best friend slipping away from you, but Sunghoon’s disconnect from the group would soon make you pull away, too. You had Jaeyun, of course, but nothing felt the same anymore. With Jungwon dead, the group felt tense and gloomy. You all started hanging out with other people and slowly stopped responding in the group chat.

Part of you realized that Sunghoon’s detachment was because you didn’t reply to him the night Jungwon’s murder was publicized. Back then, you suspected that Sunghoon could have been behind it, judging by your conversation with Jongseong earlier. It all added up in your head, but the only thing that was stopping you from believing it fully was that you couldn’t fathom Sunghoon ever doing something so evil.

“I don’t know what’s going on with him,” you whispered into the phone, even though there wasn’t anyone around that you were worried about listening in. “He’s shutting me out now. Something must’ve happened to him.”

You heard Jaeyun hum and contemplate for a moment before he replied, “Maybe he just needs space.”

“I think something happened between him and Jongseong,” you admitted, “but I can’t imagine Jongseong saying anything that would make Sunghoon ignore him for this long.”

“It must’ve been serious, then.”

“But… but it’s Sunghoon; he’s”—you paused as you recalled what Jongseong once called him—“bulletproof.”

There was a pause.

“I guess that’s the problem with being bulletproof,” Jaeyun spoke gravely. “People think they can just keep shooting.”

What Jaeyun told you that night kept replaying in your head over the next week—over and over again. It hit you a little too hard, and you waited to confront Sunghoon about it. You wanted him to know that he could be vulnerable, too. But you couldn’t even speak to your best friend these days. He had been avoiding everyone like the plague.

You assumed it had something to do with Jongseong, but when you talked to him about it, he was hesitant to get into it.

“You’re the closest person to him,” you told him. Today was colder, and you rubbed your hands together for warmth as you and Jongseong stood by the gates after school. “I think if you guys sit down and talk things out, then he’ll start being himself again.”

“I was the closest person to him,” Jongseong corrected with a scoff. “Plus, there’s nothing to talk about.”

“Nothing to talk about? What about your friendship?”

You couldn’t stop the words from leaving your mouth. Anger roiled deep in your chest, and you were too furious to realize that Jongseong only looked dejected in response. If he wasn’t going to explain what happened, then you couldn’t understand what was eating away at their relationship.

“There is no friendship, Y/N,” he said slowly, in a voice so low that it sounded like the calm before the storm. His words made everything come to a halt, and you felt like time itself had frozen. “I suggest you let go of Sunghoon, too. You’re hanging onto someone who’s beyond help.”

“But I don’t know what you know!” you exclaimed. “I can’t let go of someone just like that, Jongseong. I need answers.”

He was quiet before he asked, “Do you remember when Sunghoon stayed over at your house once when we were fourteen?”

“When his house caught on fire?” you recalled, but the memory was sort of hazy for you. All you remembered was how you were in complete awe that Sunghoon was unscathed and unbothered by the incident.

“Yeah,” Jongseong’s voice was grim as he said, “and I bet he never told you that he was the one who started that fire on purpose.”

It was like a punch to the gut. You could only shake your head blankly, lips parted in disbelief.

He continued, “When we were fifteen, he thought it would be fun to plan out a murder without getting caught—”

No.

“—and, at sixteen, he actually did it.”

No. No.

“Jongseong,” you whispered, your voice smaller than you intended, “was it…”

“Jungwon?” He said the name so carefully, as if the world would explode into nothingness if he did. You had been gnawing at your lip so hard that you drew blood, yet that couldn’t distract you from the haunted look in Jongseong’s eyes. “Yeah, he killed Jungwon.”

You felt like you had just been doused with ice-cold water.

“I shouldn’t have brought Jungwon with me. I knew Sunghoon was gonna do it to someone, but I didn’t know…” He sucked in a deep, shuddering breath that racked his entire body. “I didn’t think it would be him. I brought Jungwon to talk him out of whatever was going on, not to…” Jongseong stopped himself again, covering his face with his hands to wipe away the tears that had started to fall.

It’s you and me, Sunghoon’s voice chimed in your head. The two of us against the world.

You thought your world had been shattered, but then you realized that it had actually been broken for a long time.

That night, you asked Jaeyun to come over, and he arrived at your door in record speed.

You two were sitting on your bed, controllers in hand, but the screen was off and neither of you were even in the mood to play. You must have trusted him more than anyone by now because the words started spilling with no preamble. You ended up explaining most of your conversation with Jongseong after you had Jaeyun swear on his life that he wouldn’t tell a soul.

Of course, you didn’t expect any normal person to compliantly come to terms with the fact that their friend murdered their other friend, but Jaeyun was a bit different when it came to you. Instead of accusing you of lying or denying the truth, he believed you wholeheartedly. You couldn’t tell if he was patient with you, or if he was just horrified by everything you had told him.

It had been an entire year since Jungwon had been found dead and the case closed as an unsolved murder, but your words sucker punched Jaeyun like it had just happened yesterday.

Jaeyun’s tone was urgent when he said, “We have to tell someone.” When he noticed your hesitation, he shook his head at you with a disapproving frown. “Y/N, this is serious. This is Jungwon, my best friend.”

Your mouth went dry. “I-I know, it’s just—”

Jaeyun didn’t have to cut you off. You froze right when you saw tears welling up in his eyes.

“Y/N.” He said your name gently, but you still flinched. You had never heard your name being called with so much despair. “If Sunghoon really murdered Jungwon, then I can’t keep this a secret.”

“Give me a few days,” you pleaded. “I just want to hear Sunghoon out. No matter what he says, I’ll come with you to testify.”

He shook his head immediately, eyes fierce. “You are not going anywhere near Sunghoon—not after what he did to Jungwon.”

“Then let me ask Jong—”

“Y/N,” Jaeyun interrupted, letting his hand slide over yours. His eyes were full of concern when he asked, “How do you know you can trust Jongseong?”

Your hands started to shake.

“Y/N,” he said again, “if Jongseong took Jungwon to see Sunghoon, what do you think he did after Sunghoon killed him?”

Your pulse raced.

“If Jongseong knew about Sunghoon’s behavior for this long, why hasn’t he ever done anything?”

All this time, you thought your world had grown a little bigger ever since you met Sunghoon and Jongseong.

But you were living in a fantasy by yourself.

Not so long after your talk with Jaeyun, your phone rang. You were in the middle of finishing up your history paper when you saw the caller ID flash across your screen.

It was Sunghoon.

You didn’t even give yourself time to think about it first. You just picked up the phone immediately. It was an old habit; you saw Sunghoon and accepted the call without a second thought. You never expected Sunghoon to ever call you again, so you didn’t exactly have any practice in rejecting his calls.

“Y/N?” came the familiar voice of Park Sunghoon—gentle, but almost like he was a caged animal.

“Sunghoon?” You swallowed hard. “Uh, how are you? It’s been a while since we’ve talked.”

“I’m so sorry,” he apologized, but you weren’t sure what he was apologizing for. “It was supposed to be the two of us against the world.”

You frowned. “Sunghoon, what’s going on?”

Instead of answering your question, Sunghoon hesitated before saying, “We should catch up sometime. You can read part of the story I’m writing.”

You paused, and before he could ask if you were still there, you replied, “Yeah, sure.”

“Right.” Sunghoon sounded like he had more to say. You almost didn’t catch it because he was so quiet, and the last thing you heard before he hung up was a quiet, “Bye, then.”

Your deepest regret was answering your phone later that night.

It was hours after Sunghoon called you. Jongseong was more of a texter, so you were surprised when his caller ID flashed across your screen. It was definitely not a reasonable hour for a high school student to be out and about, but nothing could have prepared you for what you heard on the other side of the line.

Jongseong was sobbing.

The sound chilled you to the bone. You never heard Jongseong cry, but this didn’t feel normal; this cry was frantic and mangled, like he was spiraling out of control.

“Y/N, you have to come over quickly,” Jongseong begged through broken sobs and heavy breaths. “Please, Y/N, I don’t want him to hurt anyone else.”

“Jongseong, calm down. Tell me what’s happening.”

“You have my location, right? Just hurry. Please.” And he hung up.

In a daze, you called Jaeyun and asked him to pick you up.

“I really think we should just call the cops,” Jaeyun offered, almost pleading. “I don’t know what’s going on with Jongseong, but this sounds sketchy, Y/N.”

Pitted fear festered in your throat. You knew something was off, but you weren’t sure if you could handle losing Jongseong, too. You had gotten so used to not being alone that you were paranoid of returning to having no one.

“Call them as soon as we get there,” you said. “I just need to make sure Jongseong’s okay.”

Jaeyun pressed his lips into a thin, grim line, but he kept driving.

It was a port that Jongseong’s location directed you to, and discomfort crept into your limbs as soon as Jaeyun pulled into the area. Maybe you should’ve stayed back where it was safer and let the police handle everything, but you must have been a fool. It was just that Jongseong’s cries echoed in your head whenever you started having second thoughts.

You could hear him before you saw him.

Jongseong’s soft sobs could be heard from behind a metal storage unit, and you and Jaeyun inched closer carefully after getting out of the car. Your heart dropped to your stomach; you were dreading the worst, and when you turned the corner into the closed area Jongseong was in, you realized that the sight before you was the worst it could get.

Sunghoon’s body.

You waited for his chest to rise, but not even a shallow breath escaped his blue-tinged lips.

It took you a moment to reorient yourself and realize that Sunghoon wasn’t just passed out, he was dead.

You saw the blood pooling around him and the wounds piercing his torso, staining his white shirt, but you wanted to believe your mind was playing tricks on you. You convinced yourself that Sunghoon was going to get up any second now and start laughing, and then Jongseong would join in and tell you it was all a joke.

But that wasn’t the case.

It wasn’t fear that overtook you—not an overwhelm of emotion—it was numbness. You stared at Sunghoon’s body as he bled out onto the concrete, blood pooling into the cracks in the ground. You felt an odd sort of disconnect.

You tilted your head to see Sunghoon’s face turned to the side against the concrete. His blank eyes just stared into nothingness, and you realized that you would never get to see Sunghoon’s warm, sincere gaze ever again. You were never going to see his bright smile. You were never going to hear his contagious laugh. You were never going to read the wonderful stories he wrote.

You supposed your life was always meant to be a tragedy.

“H-Hoon?” Jaeyun choked up behind you. He was staring down at Sunghoon’s lifeless body in horror before his expression was slowly replaced with anger. “Jongseong, what the hell did you do?!”

“It was self-defense, man,” Jongseong whimpered out before his body was racked with sobs again. “He pulled a knife on me out of nowhere. I tried to stop him, but he was trying to kill me. I couldn’t do anything else. I couldn’t run, I couldn’t—” He exhaled shakily. “I couldn’t do anything else.”

You didn’t say anything. You just stared at Sunghoon.

“Come on, guys,” Jongseong pleaded. “I can’t go to fucking prison. I’m eighteen now; it’s not juvie, it’s a life sentence.” You didn’t know what he was getting at until he requested the unthinkable, “Help me get rid of the body.”

You wanted to puke. You eyed the shiny metal soaked in blood that Jongseong was clutching. You were never going to see Sunghoon again. You were never going to hang out with him over the weekend. You were never going to hear his voice again.

“Get rid of the body?” Jaeyun raised his voice, exasperated. “What the fuck are you gonna do when they realize he’s gone missing? You just killed someone! This is on you, Jongseong, not us!”

“Are you going to help me get rid of it or not?!” Jongseong tugged at his hair. “Just help me throw him off the dock, and we can all walk away from this.”

You watched helplessly, horror-stricken. “I… I can’t.”

“The body’s gonna float and show up somewhere,” Jaeyun countered with stony eyes. “They’re gonna catch you.”

Jongseong looked terrifyingly pale. You wondered if it was just the glow of the moon, or if he was also holding in his urge to puke. “I’ll just cut his stomach so he sinks.”

Disgusted, Jaeyun scowled. “You’re a monster.”

You watched as Jongseong tried hauling Sunghoon’s body before giving up and dragging him by the legs. You shot Jaeyun a warning look, mouthing for him to call the police before Jongseong noticed. He lingered back to do so while you followed Jongseong to plead him to stop. His arms gave out as soon as he stepped onto the planks, and he let Sunghoon’s lower half collapse onto the solid wood.

“Y/N, help me cut open his stomach,” he ordered, hardly sparing you a glance. If he did, he would have seen how horrified you were.

“Oh,” you said, voice wavering, “that’s… that—that’s his…”

“Y/N, help me.”

“Jongseong,” you begged, “please… please stop.”

He paid you no attention, though. You felt ghastly as Jongseong used a paring knife to make an incision on Sunghoon’s stomach. The smell was putrid. You screwed your eyes shut as the metallic smell of blood invaded your nostrils. Your nausea plunged into your gut, and you had to fight the pervasive urge to hurl.

A stream of Sunghoon’s blood made its way to your shoes, staining the soles.

Jongseong was cutting your old best friend open.

The dread had kept you numb for this long, but it was when reality settled in that you finally lost it. You couldn’t handle it anymore and pitched forward over the edge of the dock, throwing up until you were heaving up bile. You sobbed through it all, mournful and low, and your friend paid you no attention while he was cutting through flesh.

When Jongseong was done, he wiped at his cheek, leaving behind a smear of blood. Sunghoon’s blood. You stared at him, and you had never been more terrified of him in your life.

And then you really noticed Jongseong. You noticed how Sunghoon’s blood was coated all over his hands, how he hardly had any scratches or bruises on his body, how merciless his eyes were as he stared down at his old best friend.

The realization that washed over you was frightening.

“Sunghoon didn’t actually try to kill you, did he?” you managed to warble out. “You killed him yourself.”

A deep silence from him followed—heavy and wretched. Sunghoon’s blood was so dark that it nearly looked black under the dim light, and you could only stare helplessly until Jaeyun made his way to the dock, placing his hands firmly on your shoulders.

Jongseong turned to you and Jaeyun, clutching his knife tightly. You could hardly recognize the boy in front of you. You never truly understood the term “paralyzed by fear” until you saw the crazed look in Jongseong’s eyes—cold and haunting.

Jaeyun’s eyes glistened with tears and his throat was thick with emotion when he said, “Jongseong, please—just hang on and… and we can talk this out.”

The hand gripping his knife started shaking. “You won’t tell anyone, right? You guys won’t snitch on me, right?” When there was no response from you or Jaeyun, Jongseong’s desperation grew stronger. He turned to you with his eyes big and terrified. “Y/N, come on, we’ve known each other for years. You know I—”

“Shut up!” Jaeyun yelled. His protective grip on you tightened. “Cut the bullshit, Jongseong. The police are gonna be here soon, and they’re gonna take you straight to prison once they see what you did to Hoon.”

It was like a switch flipped in him. A distant part of your mind wondered if you could get everyone out of this—somehow bring Sunghoon back and go back to your normal life—but you immediately shut down that fantasy as soon as Jongseong’s eyes darkened.

In the darkness, you could make out an amused expression on his face. His smile took on a cold edge.

“Fine,” he bit out. “I’ll just have to get rid of you two before the police get here, then.”

You felt like your world slowed. Your eyes burned with the threat of tears. You could tell Jongseong was walking closer to you while Jaeyun was desperately trying to tug you and get you to run, but you were frozen in place. You wanted to believe that your old friend wouldn’t actually hurt you, but then you didn’t know what to think when he raised his knife.

It had all happened so fast. Too fast.

In your brief struggle as Jongseong tried to stab you, you heard a sharp gasp that tore you from your haze, like you had just been drenched in cold water. Brutally sober. You tried to push Jongseong off of you, but he was too heavy, too limp. Jaeyun shouldered his way between you two and shoved Jongseong back, grimacing when his skull hit the wood with a thud.

You heard one last, strangled gasp from Jongseong before he stopped breathing. The last star in his eyes twinkled until it dimmed for good.

Jongseong laid flat on the dock with his knife piercing his chest.

As you heard police sirens go off in the distance, Jaeyun wrapped his arms around you before you finally broke down into his chest.

Your best friends were dead and your world was broken beyond repair.

“So, it was self-defense?” Detective Lee asked, his piercing eyes boring right into yours. “Purely accidental? You had no intention of harming Park Jongseong?”

You shook your head. “I still couldn’t process the fact that he killed Sunghoon, so I didn’t think he’d actually try to hurt me.”

You wanted to cry. You bit your chapped lip, but all you could taste was blood that you doubted was even there. You couldn’t even say Sunghoon’s name without seeing that radiant smile of his stained with deep red.

You sucked in a shaky breath. “I’ve told you everything I know. Can I see Jaeyun now?”

Detective Lee eyed you for a moment. Finally, you saw some sort of sympathy in his gaze, although you felt sort of repulsed that you were being pitied in this state. The detective muttered something about him being back later, and he left the interrogation room, leaving you handcuffed to the table.

A minute passed by. Another. Several more.

You were pretty sure it had been at least an hour or two of staring at the wall, but the passage of time felt meaningless now. You could wait hours, even days, but you didn’t think you would ever be ready to confront what cruel reality awaited you.

You were so tired of everything, so exhausted that you didn’t even think about your parents until now. Were they here? Were they informed about your arrest? They must have been worried sick all night.

When the door opened, your head shot up.

“You’re free to go, Y/N,” Detective Lee said, pulling out a key to uncuff you from the table.

You were frozen. You just stared up at Detective Lee with your jaw hung open.

“I know this took awhile, but there was no security footage at the scene to confirm your story,” he elaborated. “But your stories matched up, and we found more evidence in the trunk of Jongseong’s car that he had been planning this murder.”

He helped you to your feet and escorted you out of the room. You were able to pick up everything they took from you before you were locked up in the holding cell—your keys, wallet, and your phone. Then, you were taken to the waiting room where your parents were seated at the far end.

At the sight of you, they all but leapt from their seats to rush over, hands cupping your face and arms embracing your weak, battered figure. There was so much love in their eyes, and their fear over possibly losing their daughter replaced any anger they had toward the situation. However, you wouldn’t have been surprised if you ended up getting an earful the next day.

“Mom, Dad,” you whimpered out, suddenly overcome with emotion. You were immediately aware of how weak and pathetic you felt. “I’m sorry, I—”

“Shh, it’s okay,” your father silenced you by rubbing your back in soothing circles. “Jaeyun’s family wanted us to let you know that he’s okay, too. They just took him home about ten minutes ago.”

You were slightly disappointed. Part of you was hoping that he would wait for you, but you figured Jaeyun’s family would have wanted to go home right away. You definitely would have felt better if you got to see your boyfriend in the flesh to make sure he was alive and well, but you weren’t going to complain now.

There was still a ghost of a smile on your lips as your parents walked you to their car. They gushed and gushed about how glad they were about you being safe and sound, and about how they never would’ve expected Jongseong of all people to end up being a murderer.

You were happy to be alive, of course, but you felt so empty.

You pulled out your phone to try and text Jaeyun, but, as you thought, it was dead.

“Mom, can I use your phone?” you asked, and you dialed Jaeyun’s number immediately as soon as she handed it to you. You had it memorized because it was a combination of numbers that was fairly easy to remember.

It rang four times, and by the fifth ring, you were scared that he wouldn’t pick up. But then, it beeped.

“Hello?” Jaeyun answered. “Who is this?”

It was like a huge weight was lifted off of your shoulders once you heard his voice. Despite Detective Lee informing you that Jaeyun was, indeed, alive, you felt more reassured hearing it from your boyfriend himself. You wanted to cry then and there, but you didn’t want to make your parents worry unnecessarily.

You forgot you were even supposed to respond when Jaeyun spoke again, “Is anyone there?”

“Jaeyun, it’s me,” you mumbled softly. “Y/N.”

You heard him suck in a sharp breath. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m perfectly fine.”

Jaeyun gave you the breakdown of how his experience went, which took a completely different turn than yours. After receiving medical attention, they brought him back to his holding cell to sleep for hardly a few hours. The detective interrogating Jaeyun tried to build trust with him, telling him they wanted to help and just needed his confession. They lied about already having evidence that he killed Jongseong, but Jaeyun denied it and told them the whole story. He was only free to leave after they cross-examined his story with yours.

“Jesus,” you whispered into the phone, breathing out a small laugh. By now, you were already parked at your house and walking to your front door. “This is so fucked up.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, “but we’ll get through it.”

“Yeah, Jae. Us against the world.”

Sim Jaeyun spent nine hours being questioned by authorities.

He knew the nature of the crime that occurred was complex, and he was still reeling from the loss and betrayal that left a deep wound in his chest, but there was something that terrified him still.

It wasn’t the murderous look in Park Jongseong’s eyes, or the blood completely drained from Park Sunghoon’s face.

Rather, what scared Jaeyun the most was that he spent so long pining after you and getting to know you at a deeper level. He genuinely fell hard for you, even though you had monsters in the closet. He thought he knew almost everything about you, like how you were a terrible liar.

Yet, you had just lied about everything that went down last night for nine hours straight.

What scared Jaeyun the most was how clueless he had been about who you really were.

Truthfully, he was also in the wrong for going along with your lie. It was definitely going to bite him back one day. In the moment, though, he was far too much of a coward to go against you. Although he was able to get Jungwon the justice he deserved and allowed his family to finally be at peace with answers, Jaeyun still felt horrible. He just remembered the desperate look in your eyes as your face and hands were stained with blood, begging him to protect you.

Jaeyun’s downfall must have been that he liked you too much to say no.

It was true that Jongseong called you in a panic, begging you to show up at the port as quickly as possible, and it was true that you wanted Jaeyun to drive you there instead of calling the cops first.

Jaeyun knew deep down that you were making the wrong choice, but he had hope that you knew what you were doing. Truthfully, although he liked you a lot, he was still wary about how you felt toward Sunghoon. He just couldn’t understand how you were still unconsciously protecting him after hearing what happened to Jungwon. He knew that you wanted answers, but Jaeyun was worried about how you’d react once you got them.

The real story—the one neither of you told the detectives—never started with Park Jongseong killing Park Sunghoon.

It really started when you and Jaeyun arrived at the port to see that no one was around. It was eerily quiet, and Jaeyun was starting to regret not turning around and heading straight for the police station. When you two got out of the car, you walked several feet down the line of shipping containers before returning to Jaeyun with a confused look on your face.

“I don’t see either of them,” you said, but then your eyes grew unfocused as you stared at something—or, rather, someone—behind Jaeyun.

He turned around to see Jongseong walking over to the two of you in a calm fashion, as if he had no other care in the world. The port was relatively an open space, so he had no idea where Jongseong could have emerged from. Jaeyun rolled his neck, more frustrated than anything.

“Jongseong!” you called out.

When he neared you two, Jongseong shoved his hands into his pockets. “Oh, you brought your boyfriend.”

“What’s going on?” you urged. “Is it Sunghoon? Did something happen to him?”

“Wow, that hurts, Y/N.” Jongseong barked out a laugh, but nothing about his tone sounded sincere. “I call you in the middle of the night and all you can think about is Hoon? Wow. How do you feel about that, Jaeyun?”

Jaeyun didn’t respond. He just glowered.

Nothing about this felt right.

You stammered, “I-I just assumed—”

“Put yourself in my shoes,” Jongseong cut you off with little regard for your excuses. “Sorry to say this in front of your boyfriend, but imagine how I feel when the girl I’ve liked for years only cares about my best friend.”

The air went still.

Your voice was barely a whisper when you asked, “Excuse me?”

Jaeyun pursed his lips together, and, for a moment, he thought his tongue would start bleeding if he bit it any harder. Sunghoon liked the girl that Jongseong liked, and if that girl was you, then Jaeyun was worried that he already lost you. He knew for months that he would never truly have you the way he wanted. Your feelings for Sunghoon were stronger, and although Jaeyun was able to pack his insecurities into a tiny ball and shove it down his throat, it was all coming out now.

His uneasy heart shattered into a million pieces once he caught a glimpse of your expression—hopeful and longing. And it wasn’t for Jongseong; it was for Sunghoon.

“Now that’s a great expression,” came an overly-enthusiastic voice from Jaeyun’s right.

Park Sunghoon was leaning against one of the shipping containers, arms folded across his chest before he uncrossed them and made his way toward the three of you. He must have been hiding behind the containers this whole time because Jaeyun hadn’t seen him at all before.

The situation was getting increasingly uncomfortable. Jaeyun wanted to shrink back when Sunghoon suddenly took great interest in him, keeping his eyes fixed on him instead of you or Jongseong. He used to have such bright and happy smiles, but, this time, Jaeyun almost thought his grin had been sliced into his face with a blade.

Sunghoon slung an arm over Jongseong’s shoulder. “Wow, Jae, now I really wanna see the look on your face when you’re in total despair,” he crooned, almost mocking. Jaeyun’s blood rushed in his ears when Sunghoon’s tongue swiped across one of his fangs. “You should’ve seen the look on Jungwon’s face.”

Jaeyun lunged before he could even think, but he stopped himself as soon as you held onto him, stopping him from hitting Sunghoon.

And that was when he knew he already lost you.

“Don’t,” you insisted.

“Are you serious?” he breathed out, brows knitting into a frown as he looked down at you.

Shame clung to your throat, keeping your mouth shut, but Jaeyun was more concerned now about the sharp blade pointed at his throat.

His Adam’s apple bobbed.

Jongseong had a paring knife pointed straight at him, and Sunghoon’s smile never faltered. They were clearly on the same side. There was a reason why Jeongseong never did anything about Sunghoon after killing Jungwon.

Jaeyun felt stupid for not putting it together earlier.

“I’d listen to your girlfriend,” Jongseong warned. His voice crawled all over him, freezing Jaeyun cold to the bone. “You might as well hear us out before you die here tonight.”

“Can’t exactly let you two run off now that you know what happened to Jungwon,” Sunghoon added.

“Jungwon was our friend,” Jaeyun hissed. “He was my best friend, you sick freak! What did you do to him? Why? He’s never… he never did anything wrong!”

“You’re right. He didn’t do anything wrong,” Sunghoon confirmed, surprisingly calm and collected. “In fact, he exceeded my expectations. It was a great performance, actually.” Jaeyun clenched his fist tight—so tight that his nails dug into his palms and drew blood—and Sunghoon took notice of this with a delighted hum. “You should’ve heard him scream, Jae. I had my doubts about him at first, but when he was begging me for his life, I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”

You were distraught. “Sunghoon, you—”

It all happened in seconds, like a rubber band finally snapping after being stretched too thin. Jaeyun used his elbow to knock Jongseong’s arm out of the way, and he shoved Sunghoon as soon as he found an opening, driving his hands into his ribs. He heard you cry out, but Jaeyun could only see red until he was dragged back up by Jongseong, the sharp blade of the knife being pressed to his throat.

“Stop!” you cried. “Leave Jaeyun out of this! You wanted me, right? Just let him go. Please.”

“I don’t think so.” Sunghoon wrapped an arm around you. “You two already know too much, and Jongseong and I have been waiting for this finale for years.”

Your eyes had a faraway look in them for a moment before you turned your attention back to Jongseong. “You told me…”

“I told you that when we were fifteen, Sunghoon thought it would be fun to plan out a murder without getting caught,” Jongseong filled in the blanks for you, a haunting smile playing on his lips, “and I was in on it.”

Sunghoon tutted. “But you got it all wrong, Y/N. It wasn’t Jungwon’s murder that we were planning; it was yours.”

You looked up at him in horror.

Jaeyun struggled against Jongseong for a moment, face taut with unbridled anger. He just wanted to get to you. Get Sunghoon’s filthy hands off of you.

“I’m a writer. I write stories,” Sunghoon continued. “Isn’t it a great twist? Convincing my childhood best friend that I loved her all this time, only to reveal that she’s gonna die at my hands.” He scoffed. “Jungwon was just at the wrong place at the wrong time, but he was good practice. I was too careless back then. I shouldn’t have left all those drawings and papers out like that when he came over, but now I’m gonna finish the job properly.”

Your breathing was shallow. Jaeyun could see the flood of despair racking your body with soft sobs and quick pants. Your gaze fell to the ground, and Sunghoon peered to catch a better look at you.

“Good,” he praised. “That’s what I wanna see. Wow, that’s great, Y/N. I can’t wait to see more when—”

“Get the fuck away from her!” Jaeyun yelled, grunting when Jongseong pressed the knife harder against his supple skin.

With an exaggerated flourish of his hands, Sunghoon raised both arms and backed up as if he was a deer caught in headlights. He wore an easygoing smile, yet something sinister was tucked behind the curve of his lips. Your inconsolable self stayed fixed in place, staring helplessly at your shoes.

“For the past two years, I’ve been isolating myself from the friend group for the sake of this story and its ending,” Sunghoon said. “I think I deserve a little fun right now, Jae.”

“Fuck you,” Jaeyun spat. “You deserve to go to Hell.”

Sunghoon took a step closer to Jaeyun, ducking his head so that they were at eye-level with each other. Jaeyun tried to struggle against Jongseong once more, but he froze when the knife pierced his skin. He felt something trickle down the column of his neck, and he soon realized it was his own blood.

“It’s hard, isn’t it?” Sunghoon mocked a pout. He lowered his voice by an octave, only for Jaeyun to hear. “Competing with a childhood friend is brave, I’ll tell you that.”

Jaeyun’s blood boiled. To his surprise, Sunghoon gestured for Jongseong to let go of him. He took the paring knife from his friend and handed it to Jaeyun.

“Take it,” Sunghoon said. “Why don’t you try killing me? You wanna get back at me, right? I killed your best friend, after all.”

Owlish, he blinked back at Sunghoon, almost absently. Jaeyun really considered it for a moment—like, really considered it. Some part of him wanted to senselessly beat Sunghoon up until he was unrecognizable, but the morally righteous side of him knew that he could never stoop to Jongseong or Sunghoon’s level.

Jaeyun took the knife by the handle, weighing it in his palm experimentally before chucking it away—far from both Sunghoon and Jongseong. Jaeyun was pretty sure he could overtake Jongseong if Sunghoon turned his back, but he wasn’t sure if Jongseong had another weapon up his sleeve. He heard the blade skid and scrape against the concrete, and he could only hope that Sunghoon and Jongseong being distracted by him would give you time to escape.

But Jeongseong immediately stopped you as soon as he saw you picking up the knife, and he let go of Jaeyun to grab ahold of you. Jaeyun tried to yank Jongseong back by the back of his shirt, but Sunghoon grabbed a fistful of his hair and slammed his head against the metal of one of the shipping containers.

Jaeyun’s world was thrown off-balance. The ground bounced, tilted, swayed. He was so dizzy and disoriented that he couldn’t tell if his head was spinning or if he was collapsing.

The corners of his vision grew hazy with white splotches dancing around. Jaeyun tried hard to focus, making out some of the yelling that was going back and forth, but he couldn’t think at all when a newly-formed cut on his forehead was getting blood all over his face and hands.

He doubled forward, falling onto his knees. Jaeyun had to stay there for a while and ride out the intense waves of vertigo until he was stable again. When the world finally returned to its normal axis and stopped bouncing under him, Jaeyun lifted his head to see you and Jongseong screaming at each other.

And Sunghoon was on the ground.

He stumbled over, and it was as if the white noise in Jaeyun’s ears had drowned out everything in the background. He couldn’t see or focus on anything except the pained look on Sunghoon’s face as the color drained from his neck. Blood was gushing from his jugular vein, and he was digging his palm into his neck to put pressure on the wound.

“—you stabbed him!” you screamed at Jongseong. Your voice was hysterical; Jaeyun had never heard you sound so desperate, not even when he was being held at knifepoint.

“Fuck, Y/N, I wouldn’t have hurt him if you didn’t pull on my arm!” Jongseong yelled back. He sank to the ground, simultaneously dropping the knife and dropping his head between his knees.

The sight was miserable to watch. Jongseong wailed loud and mournful until he couldn’t take it anymore, doubling over so that he could throw up until nothing but bile was coming out. When it seemed as though he had nothing else to heave out of his stomach, Jongseong sat up for a brief moment. You and Jaeyun watched as his eyes rolled back almost instantly, falling onto his back and hitting his skull against the concrete. The exhaustion must have finally caught up to him, and you two didn’t have long until he was conscious again.

Jaeyun turned his attention back to Sunghoon, watching his life bleed out of his body slowly. For some reason, an odd disconnect came over Jaeyun, and he bent down to help apply pressure over Sunghoon’s wound. At first, Sunghoon gritted his teeth, but even he knew when to accept help when it was needed.

Sim Jaeyun was pretty sure he was broken beyond belief by now, but it was impossible for him to ignore someone who was dying right before him.

Even if he murdered Jungwon.

“Y/N, we need to get him to a—”

Jaeyun cut himself off when he looked up at you to see that your expression had changed. Something was different. You looked like numbness had seeped into your body, coiling around your heart until you couldn’t feel anything. The way you looked down at Jongseong, clutching his knife tightly, made Jaeyun worry.

“Y/N,” Jaeyun said again—slower, “whatever you’re thinking… please put it down.”

It didn’t seem like you were listening, though. Almost as if your body and brain were at two different places.

“Y/N—” Jaeyun shuddered when you brought the knife down, driving it straight into Jongseong’s chest.

Jaeyun’s stomach lurched. He watched as Jongseong struggled for his life, hardly conscious as you repeatedly stabbed him over and over again until Jaeyun was yelling at you to stop. He was sure he would never be able to close his eyes again without hearing Jongesong’s blood-curdling screams and seeing Sunghoon’s face drained of color.

“Wow,” Sunghoon choked out. One last amused look crossed his face before it fell apart painfully. “I told you, Jae, there’s no competing with a childhood best friend.” Jaeyun flushed with anger, but it dissolved quickly when he realized Sunghoon’s breathing got slower, shallower. The look on his face was one of someone accepting their untimely death. “Thanks for the show, though.”

In his arms, Sunghoon took his last breath and went still.

It wasn’t grief that Jaeyun felt. It was something far greater.

“Jaeyun, I—I didn’t mean to,” you sobbed out, shakily holding up your bloodstained hands. “It was self-defense! I tried to stop him, but he was trying to kill me, and then he… he killed Sunghoon. I couldn’t do anything else. I couldn’t run, I couldn’t—” You exhaled shakily. “I couldn’t do anything else.”

Jaeyun didn’t respond. He just stared at you in disbelief.

“Come on, Jae,” you pleaded. Oh, so it was Jae now. “You have to help me get rid of their bodies. I can’t go to prison!”

“Get rid of the body?” Jaeyun raised his voice, exasperated. “Y/N, they’re dead! We have to tell the police everything. I mean, what are you gonna do when your prints match?”

Your lips pressed together in a grim line. “Your prints are on the knife, too.”

Were you blackmailing him? Jaeyun couldn’t believe what he was hearing from you. He never expected you, of all people, to be the one to throw him under the bus like this. He had trusted you with his life before, and you threw it all away in seconds.

“Are you going to help me or not?” You looked toward the dock over the water. It was a good enough distance for you to drag Sunghoon and Jongseong’s bodies over to, but Jaeyun sure as hell didn’t want to get involved. “Just help me throw them in the water, and we can both walk away from this, Jae. We can go back to our lives, okay?”

He shook his head sadly. You just sounded like a stranger to him.

“Please, Y/N,” he pleaded, tears stinging his eyes, “please stop this. You have to turn yourself in.”

But his resolve was shaky. Jaeyun knew that he would still be booked once they found his prints at the scene, and there was no telling what you would do to protect yourself. By now, Jaeyun wouldn’t have been surprised if you somehow pushed the crime onto him.

“Jae, listen to me,” you insisted. Your eyes were wide and brimming with tears, and Jaeyun couldn’t help but think you looked a little crazed. “We can both get out of this, but you have to help me out here. We’re gonna tell them that Jongseong killed Sunghoon before we got here, and then he chased us until we ended up stabbing him out of self-defense. I mean, that’s all this was, anyway! It was self-defense!”

A distant part of Jaeyun’s mind wondered what happened to you. He wondered if you had always been this way, perhaps keeping it tucked away. In the end, you were still trying to protect Sunghoon in your own way. You were still trying to protect some fragment of his golden image.

“It’s you and me,” you whispered, kneeling down by your boyfriend’s side until you were cupping his face with your hands, staining his cheeks with Jongseong’s blood, “the two of us against the world.”

Just hours ago, Sim Jaeyun looked at you like you were his entire world.

And now, with your bloodstained hands holding his face, there was unmistakable fear behind his eyes as he looked up at you.

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ thank you so so much for reading if you made it all the way to the end !! i would lovee for you to guys to share what you thought, but just to point a few things out, jake's pov was the unfiltered version of what went down that night. the dialogue from mc is similar to jongseong's because while she painted him out to be the villain in the end to protect sunghoon, it was really her who said those things. originally this had a happier ending but i'm a lot more satisifed with this one actually. i hope you guys liked it !! <3 also i am deciding against using my permanent tag list this time because i haven't used it in a year and don't know if anyone exactly signed up to read horror 🧎‍♀️

#i have so much to say for this fic this is so hauntingly good and have me feeling like submerge into this story & felt like i was part of it #second of all whoever put this up on my dash i hope u have a wonderful day this fic just change the trajectory of my life #THE CHILLS???? THE BATED BREATH I TAKE BC OF THE FLOW OF THE STORY #The characterization is INSANE and PERFECT i love it so much #jaehyun's words hits like a truck when he told us about ppl thinking they could just shoot as they please because its bulletproof #IM SO INSANELY INVESTED ABOUT THIS #THE PLOT TWIST????? AMAZING WONDERFUL #the way i felt all the emotions and it resonated with me i ACTUALLY felt the confusion of feelings for sunghoon and jake #the way I ACTUALLY felt sunghoons emotions and sinister aura just through the words is beyond me & i mean this in the most positive way /pos #the shock & immediate response about the deaths?? INSANE #the spiralling down of the reader itself has been conveyor so astonishingly #jaehyuns realization & fear about the reader his compliance and the confliction of his values and feelings really did shaken me also #you wrote each members so well how a lil bit of their mannerisms were picked up in the story and the cohesiveness of it untill the very end #THISS IS ONE OF THE MOST AMAZING FIC I HAVE EVER READ HERE #the reader is a smart one on this #the way the reader has picked up on sunghoons words habits thinking the way she slowly emerge herself from that same darkness sunghoon had #i felt so sos os sad about jungwon ive actually cried tears and mourn for him #the way thus is all so twisted and fucked up just makes sense in my brain #DARE I SAY ONE OF TEH MOST AMAZIBG FIC HERE THANK YOU SO MUCH DEAR AUTHOR FOR WRITING THIS AMAZING FIC I JOPE YOU HAVE AMZINH DAY #“us against the world yeah?”#will forever haunt me + u have just change this sentence for me and everytime i hear it or read i will always think about this fic #the way i gasped #with everything and my hands was really on my mouth THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL & WONDERFUL #RECOMMENDING TO EVERYONE!!! YALL SHOULD READ THIS MASTERPIECE #sunghoon x reader #jake x reader #jay x reader #enhypen x reader #꒰ recs ꒱

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tsumuus · 7 months ago

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mha boys as american high school teenage stereotypes

a/n this isn't an original idea, ik that, but this is just my take on it. also lowk just based off of ppl ik irl but also just really similar to the actual character. also these are really short n simple, my brain wasn't able to think any further

characters katsuki bakugou, shoto todoroki, izuku midoriya, eijiro kirishima, denki kaminari, hanta sero, tenya iida, hitoshi shinsho

masterlist

katsuki bakugou

not just saying this bc he's my fav

but quite literally the most popular person at school

like hes handsome, athletic, smart, rich, all of the above, no one could ever compare

everybody would have a crush on him (shit i would too)

or hate him

no in between

but he's still very intimidating so he doesn't have a lot of friends and has a heard time making em

not saying he's a playboy or anything

but definitely gets hella attention from girls

but he is more often than not uninterested

he would play football no doubt, run track/shot put during his off season to stay fit

not a douchebag but he totally comes off as one

shoto todoroki

he's the loser, the loner

actually jk, bc i really don't believe anyone is a loner

theres gotta be someone he talks too

hes that smart kid whos schedule is filled w ap n honors classes

and his only friends would be classmates that hes not super close w so they never talk outside of school (me lol)

hes rich rich

def plays tennis or golf, school and club

he's THE hallway crush

especially for like underclassmen

he just gives off that mysterious vibe that makes girls fall for him

not to mention he is sooooo pretty

like it's not a secret that he is attractive

but he's never had a gf or even a situationship in his life

idek

izuku midoriya

teachers pet 100% lol

not the smartest but also not dumb

like definitely top 20% of his class

i feel like he would take part in a lot of extracurriculars

he's not popular at all

but has a small group of close friends

so so sassy

like imagine arguing w him about a random subject

and you just start to piss him off

he just puts you on blast and starts embarrassing the hell out of you

making you feel hella stupid

he doesn't do it to be mean or anything

he's just a sassy lil guy idk

sassy man apocalypse!!

eijiro kirishima

social butterfly

friends with everyone

but not like a floater friend

but literally just everyones friend

like he's so genuine and is able to get along with everybody

sooo loyal

always has the best advice

definition of boyfriend material!!!

probably has had a long term gf

he takes his relationships n friendhsips so seriously

definitely plays multiple sports

idk i see him as a wrestler or even like gymnastics lol

lowk imagine him apart of the schools student council or leadership club

fully goes out for football games/friday night lights

denki kaminari

class clown fs

also lowk rlly flirty but has never had a gf or even come close

like such a ladies man

thats just part of his personality

most of his friends are girls but not in a weird way

he's the life of the party

lowk one of the only characters i can see myself having a smoke sesh w lol

big party goer

theres a house party being thrown

best believe he's there

he's not the brightest of the bunch

but he does try, its not like hes lazy

he's also so pretty

deff one of those guys w the longest eyelashes than any girl lol

lowk tennis player!denki?

also sorta see him as a swimmer/waterpolo

hanta sero

he is just so friendly

lowk a npc

but i still love him

he's so laid back and chill and has such a relaxed personality

like if you'd ever need to just have a calm night/hang out with one of your friends, he's the first person youd call

has had mulitple gfs, but def not a player

they just never seem to workout

would start a bs club with his friends so every other week they could just order a couple pizzas to school and hang out in the chill teachers class

idk i feel like hes kinda artsy

like he took art 1 his freshman year just for an easy a and schedule requirements, but he realized he was actually kinda creative

likes to doodle in class rather than pay attention now

lowk plays basketball

big car guy!!

tenya iida

THE honor student

number 1 in his class

5.0 gpa

student council persident all 4 years of high school

friend group is made up of all the other nerds who take 10+ ap classes

definitely got into multiple colleges before even applying

definitely not just saying this because of his quirk, but would lowk do track n xc

everything ive said so far i legit just his normal self😭😭😭 lemme try to get more specific

lowk imagine an iida where like outside of school he's lowk a partier

like imagine him getting blackout drunk every weekend but sobering up for school every week

and still being the best student in his grade

he's just so handsome

multiple girls have liked him but he's rejected them due to wanting to have his life set in place before thinking about romance

hitoshi shinso

he's so fucking emo just look at him

ok well not emo but just a little alternative

but yk in an american high school being a little alt means other people see you as full out gothic

so what if he's just a little quiet and brooding☹️☹️

again he's also smart

but he doesn't take all those honor classes

he wouldn't admit it but his favorite genre to watch is reality tv

best believe he was fully invested in season 6 of love island

#ppgbackontop

not an athletic guy

but was definitely forced to like play soccer or sum as a kid

works at your local comic/record store

all the emo girls that come in have a crush on him

thats all i got😫

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humanityinahandbag · 12 days ago

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I've explored the idea of Eddie being married to Steve without knowing it before in a story before (you can read it here), but in that one, Eddie and Steve have been together for years and Eddie is just so completely blinded by pining that he doesn't know how serious the relationship is.

So now I'd like to put forth a different take on this trope for the steddie court's approval.

Steve, who is so incensed by homophobia for his best friend, Robin, that he decides to protest against Reagan by getting married to Eddie.

The only issue? Eddie has zero clue.

Steve got certified in the mail to be an officiant. Claudia works at city hall and isn't sure why Steve wanted a marriage license, but figured he'd helped Dustin so many times that she could help out with one little favor. And Steve figures that customers in Family Video, while not totally aware, count as witnesses.

So he picks a morning where the sun is shining in an especially Fuck Reagan sort of way, gets dressed in his best polo shirt and jeans, styles his hair, and goes to work.

To be clear; Steve does not think that this is legally binding.

He's thinking that this will be a fun sort of protest souvenir to show Robin. Like "Hey, bestie, soulmate, light of my life! Tack this on the wall! I'm technically gay married to my other best friend, so fuck the haters!"

And to also be clear; he knows Eddie is gay as well. No one told him. But he sees the way Eddie looks at him. He knows Eddie's got a crush (though he doesn't know that said crush has been around since reign as King Steve). Steve knows Love.

He also knows that Eddie unlocked a whole world of bisexuality for him. In fact, he's been putting the moves on Eddie for weeks now.

Eddie is just... so shy and flustered and nervous.

Thankfully, Steve is great at romance. He can seduce. He can use the Harrington Techniques.

And he thinks that a fake marriage license might be just the ice breaker to show Eddie. Proof that he's not homophobic. So much so that he's into dudes. Maybe even get in a good laugh. Get Eddie to chill out and stop acting so skittish and just let Steve kiss him already.

(And maybe, yunno, let Steve do other things to him that probably involve candles and flowers and maybe some smooth jazz).

So to Steve, this is a two for one solution.

He gets to protest homophobia with a fake marriage license for his best friend Robin, and he gets to show the guy he likes (and who likes him back) that he's totally into him with a cute little down with Reagan ice breaker.

It's a win win for everyone.

So one day, when Eddie comes into Family Video, the poor metalhead very nearly dies on the spot when Steve, smile bright enough to light a room, pushes a paper towards him and asks him to sign.

And Eddie, lovestruck and beside himself, doesn't even register what Steve is saying. Steve is perfect and wonderful and funny and smart, and he's asking Eddie to sign something, and Eddie barely even looks down at the document before he's scribbling his name.

Steve does explain. Of course he does.

Eddie just... isn't really listening.

He does however listen when Steve asks Eddie out at the end of his shift and Steve gets to watch the other boy turn pink as a summer sky when he says yes.

And that's that.

Steve has a first date to look forward to and a fake marriage certificate to turn in. He gives the paper back to Claudia and asks if she can stamp it. Make it look real. He'll frame it when he gets it back.

The issue is, Claudia is really good at her job. And Hawkins is currently experiencing the aftermath of a Diet Apocalypse and doesn't notice the fine details of everything moving through their local government. So the paperwork processes; laws be damned.

It's definitely a fun surprise when Steve opens the mail one day (before he's even gotten to take Eddie out), and finds out that he's somehow, legally, the first gay marriage in Indiana. Or most of the United States, really.

Which is... definitely something.

But Steve loves Love. And so he processes the news pretty quick and then walks into work with the energy of an especially confused but cheerful golden retriever. "Hey, Robin!" he'd say, reading through the letter again. "You remember how I made that marriage license for you?"

She laughs fondly. "Yeah, dingus. It was sweet."

"Anything for you," he says, sincerely. And then; "You remember how I'm going to take Eddie out? And you agree? You think he likes me back?"

She snorts. "He's totally obsessed with you. I'm pretty sure we've skipped a few stages over like and moved right onto love."

Which is great. Because when Steve falls, he falls hard. He's a guy who loves Love. It's great to find someone who loves him back the way he wants!

"Awesome," beams Steve. "So do you think I should tell him we're actually legally married before or after I take him to the movies?"

#lol #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #just rambling #fake marriage #accidentally legally getting married before it's legal #this is so random #I apologize #back on my bullshit

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sweet1delusi0ns · 9 months ago

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Haikyuu boys n cuddles ──☆*:・ﾟ

Team ! karasuno

Characters: Hinata, Kageyama, Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, Nishinoya, Daichi, Sugawara, Tanaka

Hinata✿

He will do anything to spend all day with you cuddling but bro has places to be yk

But he still tries to cuddle as much as possible even in public. If he’s on break and your there he will cuddle up to you in front of everyone, he don’t care! Unless your the one cuddling up to him then he will start blushinggg

But mostly y’all cuddle at one of your houses. He’s so awake and hyper that he can’t stay still but two minutes into the cuddle sesh he’s gone. He drools all over you but you don’t care, and you’ll gladly kiss him awake when it’s time to go

He mainly clings onto your side, like he just clamps himself onto your waist or arm and will just stay there! He also likes being held by you but that’s only for special occasions

Kageyama✿

He doesn’t beg and whine for cuddles but he will be pissed if he doesn’t get cuddles when he wants. He expects you to read his mind; “how was I supposed to know you wanted to cuddle you didn’t say anything?” “I DONT KNOW!”

But once he does get them he is very pleased with himself, he feel like he wins since he didn’t have to ask even though he was pouting the whole day which is basically the same-

He normally big spoons you while his face is like (¬◡¬). If you catch a glimpse of his dumb smirk you tease him which makes him hide in your hair instead~

He’s scared of cuddling anywhere public in any way- he wants cuddles to be private and special! He like just being with you and no one else ok!

Tsukishima✿

He thinks he’s so smart trying to make cuddling ‘your idea’ even though you didn’t even say anything at all. Like random he just walks up to you; “fineee since you wanna whine so much I guess we could cuddle.” You didn’t even say anything before he spoke up he was just to shy to admit he wanted to cuddle

He big spoons you but what he really loves is resting his head on your chest and wrapping his arms around you, You play with his hair and call him ‘your baby’ and at that point he doesn’t even try to stop it. He will deny it later tho👍

The only cuddling he really does PDA wise is letting you rest on him. He doesn’t care abt all the teasing his gunna get if your tired he doesn’t care he will be a pillow. Again he will deny it later even though there were witnesses

Yamaguchi✿

Never will he ever ask to cuddle, it’s way too embarrassing to ask you he’d rather just curl into a ball on top of you and wait for you to acknowledge him, he always lays on top of you even if he’s bigger or smaller than you he doesn’t care. He draws shapes on your arms while he waits for attention, he also likes when you pat his head-

Once you finally engage with him he was just start TALKINGG, about anything! When he’s comfortable he talks! About his day n such and sometimes he goes “oh do you wanna say something? No? Ok…blah blah blahhh” you don’t mind his yapping at all though

If you try hugging him in public or pulling him in he will just look away timidly and softly push off, hopeing no one sees his red face~

Nishinoya✿

He tries cuddling you literally everywhere. He can’t go one second without a cuddle- he could be in the middle of shopping or something and he will just stop, turn around and cling onto you, then after a minute he will get off and act like nothing happened

If you guys r just hanging out at your house and y’all decide to cuddle uhm, your going to have to pick the position cuz he can not make up his mind- honestly he just sprawls out and let’s you do whatever, normally you just hold him which he’s chill with

Also if you don’t give him nose kisses or play with his hair while cuddling he’s gunna be madddd!

Daichi✿

He gives you hugs n love but cuddling is rare but when it does happen it lasts HOURS. Like 4 full hours I’m being Fr. He holds you close to his chest and just stays there, he doesn’t even fall asleep he’s fully awake and he remembers every moment!

He waits all day for you both to have free time so you could just talk and cuddle and he will get impatient in you take too long, he’s been waiting all day ofc he’s gunna get impatient; “y/n hurry up!!!” “Be PATIENT!” “UGHHH”

When y’all cuddle he always hides his face in your hair or neck and he gets cold like really easily so when he starts getting a little cold he tightens his arms around you hoping for you to bring warmth to him

Sugawara✿

He is obsessed with cuddles but if he asked for them all the time he would feel like he’s bothering you, WHICH HES NOT!

He tries to figure out if your busy in any way ; “sooo y/n, you doing anything?” “Uhm no?” “Cool…cool…” “…do you wanna cuddle~!” “Yeah” you can tell what he wants without him having to ask which he loves

He cuddles by tucking under your chin and basically hiding in the neck, when you cuddle it’s nap time for him so you have a sleeping boy hiding in your neck while softly snoring, you comment about his snoring later and he got embarrassed 😔

Tanaka✿

He normally only cuddles late at night when he’s still hype asf and needs to calm down, so he just throws himself onto you-

He obviously uses your chest as a pillow so he wraps his hands round your waist as well, you could feel him nuzzling into your chest while he whispers something about you being so hot (as usual)

On a serious note he finds is so cute when you drag your thumb over his cheeks in an attempt to calm him down, he always grabs your hand and kisses it before actually calming down.

This should NOT have taken this long but I had shit to do forgive me😋

Btw: not proof read cuz I’m lazy🤞

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0vergrowngraveyard · 2 months ago

Text

It wasn’t a very long nightmare, but it was enough to make him jolt awake, chills running down his spine and panic filling his chest.

Sonic wasn’t a stranger to having bad dreams, but they didn’t happen very often. Dreaming in general just wasn’t a very common occurrence for him. He usually just closed his eyes and woke up hours later, there was nothing in between.

But there were times after an adventure, a particularly close call, or just having a rough day that his usually peaceful sleep would be interrupted by nightmares that would force him back into the waking world. Images of what could’ve happened if he hadn’t acted in a situation that more often than not ended in death, either his own or someone else’s.

That someone else was usually Tails, which was what he was dealing with now.

Their latest encounter with Eggman had gotten a little too dicey for Sonic’s liking. Not for Sonic himself — the more danger he was in, the better — but Tails had almost gotten hurt. Really hurt. A bot nearly self-destructed right next to him when he’d gotten caught on something and it was by sheer luck that Sonic spotted it when he did.

If he’d been too late, even by a second…

The next thing he knew, he found himself standing in Tails’ room, watching over the kit’s sleeping form. Sonic didn’t remember getting out of bed at all, but whatever. He was here now and he didn’t really want to leave, not yet at least.

Tails had gone to bed at a reasonable time tonight, but that was only because he’d been awake for almost forty-eight hours beforehand. Whenever Sonic was out on a run, Tails would forget to take care of himself. He’d barely eat, sleep, and he only drank water when he felt a headache coming on. It worried Sonic to no end, yet he’d get brushed off when he brought his concerns to light.

Sonic didn’t need to question where Tails got that from.

He sat down on the kit’s bed, the mattress sinking under his weight. He simply watched the kit, observing how his ears and muzzle twitched in his sleep. Unlike his big brother, Tails always seemed to have very vivid dreams. Sometimes, he’d tell Sonic all about the story that played out for him overnight in such excruciating detail, it was like he just watched a movie. It sometimes made Sonic a little jealous if he was being completely honest.

However, vivid dreams also meant vivid nightmares and Sonic had definitely heard about a fair share of those, so maybe he wasn’t that jealous.

A sigh broke through his defense as he turned to look down at his hands. It was times like this when Sonic began wondering how life would’ve been different if he’d gone through with his original plan when he first took the kit along with him. If he’d actually found a family to look after him and love him and keep him safe; a family that would keep him away from Eggman instead of letting the kit nearly get blown up by him.

Life would’ve been much lonelier for Sonic, sure, but at the very least Tails would’ve been able to have a normal childhood, whatever that meant for a kid like him. He would’ve had two parents to look up to, maybe other siblings to play around with. He would’ve gone to a regular school, probably skipped several grades because that's just how smart he is, made friends closer to his age and who shared his interests.

He could’ve had a normal and stable life.

But things didn’t end up going in that direction. Tails’s role model and only family was a guy who threw himself at danger whenever he could. He didn’t go to school and most of his friends were much older than him and struggled to follow along with his ramblings whenever he explained something he was passionate about. His life was always at risk, whether it was working with dangerous chemicals or helping Sonic save the world from whatever ancient deity Eggman awoke that month.

With Sonic, his life was anything but stable. Chaos, they’d been homeless for years. Living off the land and whatever people gave them to survive. Sometimes they wouldn’t eat for days at a time. Sometimes one of them got sick and there were no hospitals in the immediate area, leaving the other to play doctor. There’d even been times where Sonic lost him either in a town or he didn’t notice the kid falling behind until it was too late.

Even now that they had the Mystic Ruins workshop, Tails was left alone for days at a time. No big brother to monitor him and make sure he properly took care of himself. No one home to stop him from working himself to the point of exhaustion just so he could prove himself useful.

As if his presence alone wasn’t enough to fill Sonic with the confidence that they’d get through whatever was thrown their way.

There came a point where Sonic just couldn’t let the kid go, as selfish as the choice may have been. He just couldn’t. He’d fight to keep his little brother by his side, he did fight. He went to freaking court so he could get legal guardianship over the fox. And if, for whatever Gaia forsaken reason, the system ruled that he was unfit to be Tails’s guardian, he still wouldn’t let them take him away. He made the decision long ago that this kid was his, and there wasn’t anything anyone could do about it.

Sonic had gotten attached, but sometimes he wondered if that attachment had been a mistake. He hated thinking about it because this little fox kit truly was the light of his life, his best friend, and his little brother who he loved dearly, but he couldn’t help it. The thoughts would just creep their way into his mind from the dark crevices of his room at night.

What if Tails got hurt trying to protect him? What if Sonic failed one day? What if Sonic had failed yesterday? What if this was a dream and his nightmare was what really happened? What if—

“Sonic?”

His brain screeched to a halt immediately as he looked over his shoulder and caught two sleepy eyes looking up at him. “Wha’re y’doin’?”

The hedgehog just blinked at him for a stupid second as he tried to regain his composure. “Just checking on you, bud.” He eventually responded, his voice uncharacteristically quiet as he reached over to scritch behind his ear.

Tails leaned into the touch with a hum, “Y’need somethin’?”

Sonic shook his head, “Nah. Just go back to sleep.”

Tails gave him a confused look but ultimately let it go, snuggling further into his covers. He closed his eyes and Sonic was sure he’d fallen back to sleep. With a sigh, he stood up, taking in one last look over the kit’s face.

He looked peaceful.

Sonic frowned and turned away, making his way towards the door and being careful about avoiding any creaky floorboards. He didn’t need to keep the kid awake longer than he already had.

“You can stay if you want.” Sonic jumped, not expecting to hear Tails’s voice again. “If you had a nightmare or somethin’. I don’t mind.” The kit shifted over, making room on his pillow for his big brother. He looked at Sonic over his blankets almost expectantly.

Sonic considered the offer, a small smile tugged at his mouth as he put his hands on his hips, “Are you trying to comfort me or do you just want something to latch onto?”

Tails gave him a half lidded stare—or he was just barely keeping his eyes open—before he shrugged with one shoulder and laid back down, “It’s your choice. If you wanna go back to your room and deal with your nightmare alone instead, be my guest.”

A knot formed in Sonic’s stomach. It was the same knot that formed whenever Tails tried to comfort him. He appreciated it, he really did. Sonic was so lucky to have this kid in his life. A kid who cared so much about him and who’d do anything to make sure his big brother was happy, or at least not as sad. Tails was always successful. Just being near the fox seemed to always be enough to soothe whatever negative emotions were worming around in him at the moment.

If Sonic was upset, he needed his best friend and little brother around.

But that’s where the knot came in. Tails shouldn't have to worry about his emotions. Sure, he was the smartest and greatest kid Sonic had ever met, but that didn’t change the fact that he was, well, a kid. He already had so much on his plate, way more than he should. His big brother being upset shouldn’t be added to that.

Sonic sighed, turning towards the hallway and away from any kind of comfort. The air around him felt colder as he walked out of the kit’s room, it felt heavier. He stole one last glance at Tails snuggled up in his blankets before shutting the door and making his way back to his room.

He paused in his doorway. His room was much darker than Tails’s, much emptier too. Sonic wasn’t afraid of the dark by any means, nor of what was in it, but simply walking over to his bed and laying down felt like such a daunting task. Exhaustion weighed him down and he wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep and wake up the next morning like nothing had happened.

Sucking in a deep breath, he forced himself to move forward, just like he always did. One foot after the other. There was no need to stop until he reached his goal, no reason to look back.

Sonic flopped down onto his bed, the mattress bouncing under his weight. He rolled over onto his back, limbs sprawled out as he stared up at the ceiling. Unlike Tails’s ceiling which had little plastic glow in the dark stars attached to it, Sonic’s was blank. Just an empty void staring back at him.

The void began whispering to him the longer he looked so he closed his eyes, determined to fall back to sleep. He wasn’t about to let a stupid nightmare of all things keep him from getting his precious sleep, even one as terrifying as the one he’d had that night.

He was Sonic the Hedgehog, for crying out loud. And Sonic the Hedgehog didn't get caught up on dumb nightmares.

He could ignore the sheer terror that flowed throughout his body, the heart shattered scream that burned into itself his memory and the thick red liquid that shouldn’t have been there. He could ignore how broken his baby brother’s body looked, the wide eyed and lifeless stare pointing directly at him, and the all too familiar laugh reverberating around him, saying that it was all his fault. That it will be his fault.

When that time comes, it will be all his fault.

He could ignore the tears threatening to slip out of his eyes as the words sunk in, but he couldn’t ignore the sudden feeling of something—or someone—landing down on his stomach hard.

A winded oof escaped him as he quickly tried to sit up, only for his efforts to be in vain as the weight on him refused to move. His gaze turned unimpressed as his hand settled on the culprit’s back, “So. Did you forget how to knock or something?”

The only response Sonic got was muffled by his sheets, which managed to get an amused snort out of the hedgehog, “I can’t understand a thing you’re staying, lil bud.”

Tails lifted his head up with a huff. “I said your door was wide open.” His head promptly flopped back down onto the bed.

“My door was wide open.” Sonic repeated.

“Mhm.”

“So you took that as an invitation to jump on me and wake me up?”

“Mhm.” Tails lifted his head up again, “Also you weren’t asleep.”

“Oh yeah? And how did you know that?” Sonic asked, hand moving to scritch behind the kit’s ear.

“Just did.”

Sonic just hummed. That was probably the best answer he was gonna get, no use in questioning further. If there was anything else, he’d say it on his own. With a content sigh, he closed his eyes and focused on the fox kit laying across his stomach. Whatever darkness had crept into his mind slowly disappeared as Sonic continued to pet his little brother’s head.

He could hear the faint sound of Tails’s purring, its vibrations sending an almost calming sensation throughout his system. Eventually, the kid moved so he was snuggled up against Sonic’s side, his paw curled up into a fist as it rested on his tan chest. Sonic looped an arm around him, keeping him as close as possible.

They laid there in silence for a while, Sonic gently scratching the kit’s back as his own breathing began to settle. He could feel himself finally starting to drift off to sleep and assumed Tails already had. That is, until he felt the small fist on his chest tighten.

“You sounded sad when you were in my room,” Tails finally admitted, “And I know I said I didn’t care, but I didn’t really want you to be alone. And I knew you’d tell me to go back to my room if I told you that so I just jumped on you. That way you couldn’t send me away.”

Sonic’s eyes slowly opened as he stared at his ceiling once again. The darkness that looked back wasn’t as intense as it was before, but it was still there. Before he could respond, Tails added one last thing, “And before you say you wouldn’t have, last time I checked on you when you had a bad dream, you just told me to go back to bed. You tell me that every time.”

“I wouldn’t have this time.”

Tails scoffed, “That’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one.”

Sonic couldn’t bring himself to respond to that because, as much as he hated to admit it, Tails was right. He probably would’ve told him to go back to his room tonight too; would’ve sent him away for just trying to help.

“I just don’t want you to waste your time worrying about me, kiddo.” He said, “You’ve already got a lot going on, way more than someone your age ever should, and my dumb issues don’t need to be added to that list.”

“I can’t help worrying about your dumb issues, Sonic.” Tails huffed, “You’re my brother. Of course I’m gonna worry about you. ‘S what family’s for.”

“Bud—“

“No matter how many times you tell me not to worry, I always will and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

A fond smirk tugged at Sonic’s mouth, “Nothing?”

“Nothing.” Tails confirmed, “Now go to sleep. ‘M tired.”

Chaos, what was he going to do with this kid? “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say. Goodnight, little bro.”

“Mmm g’night…love ya”

Sonic simply hummed in response, but Tails got the message all the same. The hedgehog stayed awake as the kit’s breathing evened out almost immediately. The kid really was that tired, huh? Made sense considering he was woken up from what appeared to be a pretty deep sleep. His breaths had a little whistle to them, making it so that Sonic could hear every time Tails breathed in and out, in and out, in and out.

He’d also be able to tell if his breathing stopped.

His eyes closed tightly as the unwanted thought bounced around. Tails was fine. Sure, he’d been rudely woken up because Sonic wasn’t able to get a handle on his fears, but now he was right next to him. Sonic could keep him safe if anything happened. He would always keep him safe.

Whatever happened in his nightmare would never become a reality. Sonic wouldn’t let it.

He rolled over and curled around the little fox to the best of his ability, pressing his forehead against Tails’s. Sonic forced himself to copy the rise and fall of his chest as his quills raised instinctively, ready to protect them both from the non-existent threats in the dark as they slept.

Apparently they hadn’t stayed raised for too long considering he woke up to Tails holding onto him, arms wrapped around his middle with a grip that he wouldn’t be able to escape from without waking the kit up. Fondness squeezed his heart just as tightly as he chuckled softly, closed his eyes, and allowed himself to relax a little longer.

He could tease him about it later.

#fic #word count: 2814 #randomly got a burst of inspiration to actually work on my various oneshots lmao #this one’s been sitting around for months now #anyway making that hedgehog sad one more time in 2024 <3 #thank you for reading!!#i’m going to bed now it’s 1:30 am #sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower #unbreakable bond #the brothers ever

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jimblejamblewritings · 10 months ago

Text

love letters and second sons | part 1.

Summary: The princess is finally ready to debut in society. But before she does, she decides to disguise herself and see the true faces of the ton.

Author's Note: Hello! Yes, I'm here with a wip before finishing my other stuff. The Bridgerton girlies have got me. Congratulations to you all. So before you read this, please read: I Hate Accidents by @i-hate-accidents AND Over The Garden Wall by @homeofthepeculiar AND The Ultimate Deception by @maximoff-pan. These stories are some of my favorites and really inspired this fic.

Warnings for the Series: light sexism in line with the times, light classism in line with the times, mental health stigma, shitty doctor care, smut, suicide attempt (will get it's own warning when the time comes),

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x princess!reader

Word Count: 5.4k

Author's Note: To those who have read my other works, you'll notice that the author Mercutio's stories are something special

My Dearest Ton and Wonderful United Kingdom,

I am pleased to welcome you all to the start of another social season. Of course, people love and look for love all year round but each year the season just seems to invite love to blossom. I hope all of you find the match to your souls. Marriage is a business but can it not have love as well? A business built with love surely must be a business that tries to last. I ask our respectful citizens and subjects of the United Kingdom to make love a part of their search.

I would also like to ask about businesses that do not involve marriage or love. How are you? In the business of health, is everyone safe from all sickness? In the business of finance, does everyone have enough to eat and clothe themselves without falling into poverty? Are businesses afloat even if only by a small margin? How are you? Truly, I want to know. If you would like to write to me, please do so. The royal mailboxes should still be in perfect condition.

Of course, if you have something urgent then I am sorry but you must come to the palace and request an audience. My valets hold all letters for a day or a few out of safety for everyone. But rest assured, I read every letter once received.

I would also like to say that I can feel the winds of the ton calling me to grace their presence and to stop being rude by ignoring them. Naturally, the wind is very rude to say this and then cut through my dress and chill my bones even when it is snowing. But I digress, the wind is right. The time for introduction must be soon. And a lovely time that will be. I cannot wait to meet you all.

Yours truly,

A Not So Young Anymore Youngest Princess Y/N Hanover (Truly, I need a proper surname and not just the name of my father’s house)

My Dearest Ton and Wonderful United Kingdom,

Would you like to know what I have learned yesterday? I know the Americas are still a touchy subject for some but I hope you don’t mind me talking about it, just to share my studies. Philadelphia is the center of American debate. So many great men (and women that have probably gone unnamed but aided their counterparts in their quest of education) have lived and are currently still living there.

Going to America simply for a debate sounds terribly dreadful. But what if we had one here that wasn’t relegated to just the universities. An entire city becoming a center of debate seems incredibly foolish, not to mention disruptive to its current residents, but buildings of debate do not seem like a bad idea.

Even if some feel like they aren’t smart enough, they should participate. Ideas are nurtured by sharing them. May some debates lead to great compromise and understanding and maybe even propositions for laws.

I, for one, debate with my father every day on which science is the most important to teach to young children and which science can wait until university should they like to pursue that path. He believes all of it. I believe that medicinal science is too much for a young mind and they only need to be taught how to mind their health until they can understand better. What do you think? I am delighted to hear your opinions. Maybe mine will be swayed.

Yours Truly,

Youngest Princess Y/N Buckingham (I am trying out new surnames until one I like sticks)

My Dearest Ton and Wonderful United Kingdom,

I apologize if my stance may be radical but nothing in society ever got done if the start wasn’t a little radical. I believe that young women should be properly taught about relations… let me just say it, sex. Not when they are children, no, but when they are about to debut. Consider it. You all know that as a royal, despite being a woman, I have been taught all things. Everyone is aware that I know what sex is. But if I and my sisters were taught sex so that we may be aware of malicious advances and be able to protect our virtue first rather than waiting for our virtues to be saved by someone and risk them being too late, then others should as well. Therefore, I implore all mothers and governesses to teach their young ladies about to debut what sex is. And to fathers who may be without wives, please find any woman to teach your daughters.

I shall return with more radical ideas for a better and more prosperous United Kingdom.

Yours truly,

Youngest Princes Y/N Kew

The printed letters delivered to London, had everyone enthralled in the early morning. Some people that lived close enough to the central town square didn’t bother with the prints and went straight to the wooden pin board there to look at the princess’ handwriting on the original letters. Whenever the Young Princess or the author Mercutio Quick wrote, people stopped and paid attention.

Princess Y/N was the people’s princess. The one who listened to their complaints and wasn’t cheap on her charitable acts. She was so much like her father, Farmer George. Even with his illness he still ran a good country… when he was in charge. So much better than her eldest brother, George IV. Then again, any royal sibling was better than their eldest brother, even if only by a very small percentage. Everyday the public hoped another child would challenge George the Younger. They would rally their support behind them.

They were hoping that any day George IV’s daughter, Charlotte, would have an heir. If she was pregnant then it would be so easy for the public to support her and convince either George IV to step down or convince Parliament to present a motion to King George. They would have a ruler and an heir. Charlotte the Younger would be the easiest transition for George IV to understand.

But neither her father nor husband seemed to care about the lack of heir. But the thought of succession and coups and duels was forgotten for a moment to read the Young Princess’ letters welcoming them to the new social season with new balls, debutantes, and drama.

In the Bridgerton house, the family ran around like chickens with their heads cut off. They were trying to get ready to present Daphne to the Queen while also trying to read the Young Princess’ letters. Benedict laughed as he slapped his copy of the letters.

“Mother would have a fit if she had to speak with Daphne about sex.”

“I’m surprised she would even suggest such a thing,” Colin said as he returned to reading the first letter, thinking he might actually write to the Young Princess about his familial concerns and wanting to travel desperately but being unsure about leaving them.

Eloise finally smiled as she came downstairs with the rest of her siblings. “I for one think it’s rather refreshing. She is right. Our mamas should be teaching us more than just how to meet the Queen… Daphne! You must make haste! Do you think she heard me?”

Colin rolled his eyes. “She most certainly did. But on the matter of the princess, what is wrong with a woman’s husband teaching her about sex?”

“Everything is wrong with that.”

“Hmm.”

He looked down to reread the paper, wondering if he could understand what the princess actually meant. Even though the letters were left at home, talk of the princess never ceased. How could it? The monarchy’s youngest princess might actually be joining them. Everyone wanted to know what she would look like, not in the face of course. Even her fourth brother didn’t take off his mask until after five months of being introduced to society and he was the shortest time it took to see the royal children’s face.

“Do you think she will be tall like her eldest sister or short? Plump?” Eloise asked as their carriages started their way towards the palace. “I’d imagine I’d be very lovely and plump if I could be stuck in a palace all day with the most wonderful food imaginable. Not that anyone should ever value a woman based on her body but Penelope has stated that her sisters are terribly upset because all the dress makers have started saying that plump is going to be in fashion once again in only a few years time and by the time they become plump it’ll be out of fashion again.”

Daphne looked out the window. “I wonder if she’ll look like the Queen or the King. Oh, what makeup do you think she’ll wear? What mask did she have created for herself? When do you think we’ll actually see her face?”

Violet touched the knees of all her girls. “Whatever she is like, do not be rude and gawk. The poor thing will already have the vultures’ eyes on her all night. If she even comes out tonight. Perhaps it will be at a ball this week. That would be quite a fantastic introduction. I do hope she at least meets us this season.”

Francesca smiled. “I imagine her dance card would be quite full.”

“She’d have bracelets of dance cards going up to her arm,” Daphne agreed.

“But she isn’t coming into society yet. She’s just introducing herself to us,” Eloise said.

“She’s still a princess royal. A very well-known one at that. There’s no way the men would pass on an opportunity to dance with her. They’d want to start making their intentions known now, get ahead of everyone else.”

The boys’ carriage was speaking of a different matter entirely. The princess and Mercutio had written to the ton at the same time. With the presentation to the Queen taking up so much of the day, most people wouldn’t be able to read his work until later that evening. Colin and Benedict simply couldn’t wait. Colin sat with his brother as he drove the carriage and read the story out loud:

“Arsehole,” Cecilia muttered.

Ignoring the sharp stinging of her backside, she hopped off the bed to find something to put on. All she needed to accomplish was getting back to her room, clothed. She knew there must have been some spare clothes in their dressers. It was just a matter of sorting through which garments were hers and which belonged to the others. She had been sorely mistaken to ignore the three members of nobility behind her, thinking they hadn’t heard her.

Lovell scrunched up his face, resembling a rat. “Is receiving another punishment something you really care for? Because this attitude you’ve acquired is going to earn you one.”

“Piss off.”

“Is that any way to talk to your dominants?” Madison asked, adjusting herself in Tommy’s arms.

Cecilia scoffed as she walked towards the door, placing one hand on the doorknob. “Lavender.”

The other three faces fell at the use of that forbidden word. Cecilia’s hand reached up ever so gently and wiped away tears. She wondered if the tears were for her former lovers or for finally realizing her mind was deluded to think she would be with anyone above her station such as Lovell.

“I don’t want this anymore.”

“Cecilia.”

“You never believe that I don’t enjoy breaking our established rules. You only listen to Madison.”

“Cecilia.”

“It is clear you both like her more than you desire me. I am down.”

“Cecilia.”

“You shall see me around this manor, doing my job as I always have. But that is the extent of our relationship.”

“Please, just give u—”

“Good day, Lord Parham. Lord Newall, Lady Wilcher.”

“Riveting,” Colin said as he finished reading. “Mr. Mercutio has done it again.”

Benedict nodded. “Indeed he has. I was a bit worried when he announced that he wanted to dabble in the themes of erotic pleasures in his stories but this was just as enjoyable as all the others.”

“Agree… Oh, it says here that they have earned a publishing deal. The penny stories will still come out once a week, chapter by chapter but readers can also purchase a book if they would like to keep the story properly or are in a rush to read it. I for one will be buying the books.”

“I second that.”

“I wonder what his next story will be about. Actually, no, I wonder what our dear sisters and mothers can be talking about.”

“The princess, no doubt.”

”Do you think any of our brothers will approach?” Eloise asked in the women’s carriage, more to herself than anything.

That made Hyacinth’s face light up. “If one of them marries the princess does that mean we get to be princesses too?”

“As if any of our brothers even could or want to.” Francesca pulled her face away from the window.

“If anyone is going to bring them to the marriage mart,” Daphne started as she fanned herself. “It would be the princess. Anthony would be a good match for her.”

Violet laughed, thinking of the idea. “A viscount and a princess are a perfect match.”

All talk of the princess stopped as they approached. The worst thing that could happen could be a footman overhearing them and mistaking their speech for malicious gossip rather than light-natured and report it to the princess or the queen or even worse, King George himself. They would forever be ostracized from society.

From upstairs, you watched from a window where you knew no one could see you even if they looked up. How you desperately wanted to be down there. All the men were dressed up and looking like penguins. Handsome they were but still penguin-like in silhouette. And the women’s dresses. Some, while upper class, were of a lower social standing and wore older dresses that looked just as gorgeous as the empire and rather shapeless dresses of today.

But today was not your day. You actually weren’t sure when your day would be. Your mother and father let their children choose when they would be introduced to society. Of course you all had to wait for a certain age and it had to be a date at the start of the social season but you could pick the day. And unlike your last sibling, you wanted it to be at a ball instead of the selection of the Diamonds. You didn’t even care which ball it would be. Perhaps it was selfish but you did want a day all to yourself or at least a day with you as the main focus. But that wasn’t this year. Or any year perhaps.

You were excited to finally leave the walls of the palace if you were allowed, having proven yourself capable of not causing an incident. Unfortunately, you couldn’t say you had proven yourself without illness. You weren’t that lucky. You and all your siblings were locked inside until the royal physicians could observe and confirm that you weren’t sick with whatever madness your father had. They didn’t have to observe you. That was also why you picked a ball instead of today. You wanted to prove you didn’t need a chaperone literally holding your elbow. You wanted freedom like your siblings. Freedom to explore that you weren’t sure would get because of your illness.

After a nearly fatal drowning in the lake — an event your siblings still get chewed out for at least once a month — you started showing symptoms like George did. For you it wasn’t about if you would be as sick like your father. It was about how bad and how quickly the illness would get.

You didn’t get to see George as often as the others. The doctors thought you shouldn’t be around him for prolonged periods of time unless it was after an episode. They thought that too much exposure would make you more like him instead of better. They wanted to send him to Kew but you promised that you wouldn’t go to his quarters as long as he got to stay at Buckingham.

Charlotte, silly as it may have been, had hope. They caught your sickness early. Nine was a very young age to almost go mad. Maybe you could be saved from a cruel fate unlike George. They were too late for him but not for you. Of course this only brought jealousy from your siblings who didn’t feel like they got as much affection anymore. Every time you even twitched, it became about you. They could never hate you. It wasn’t like you asked to be sick. But it was hard to be around you. Everyday visits became once a week. Still, you cherished those visits. Like the one yesterday. They expressed their sympathies and hopefulness that you would get to introduce yourself and maybe it could even be this year or maybe this month.

You could have scoffed. After what you did just two days ago, you were unsure. The daylight came into your room before you were prepared for it and you had been convinced that Buckingham was on fire. You couldn’t be calmed down until you jumped into the water fully clothed. Immediately, you pulled yourself out of the trance but no one really cared. The royal physician had been called anyway and you had ruined all chances of attending the presentation to the Queen.

“Your Highness!” a voice disturbed your thoughts and your eyes from looking at your siblings’ carriages leave in the morning. Your lady-in-waiting approached you with a paper, an entire pamphlet. “It’s already spread through the ton like a fire. We haven’t read it yet. We figured new literature would be a treat for you.”

“Thank you, Pandora. Shall we read it in the kitchens this morning when we return home?”

“Not your room?”

“I’m so terribly sick of my room and the washroom and the balcony and the bedroom.”

“You are getting restless.”

“It’s only a matter of time. Maybe even tomorrow it’ll happen. And soon it will only be a couple of years at most before the mask is gone. By the way,” you said as the two started to leave. “Did you hear about the Feather girl that fainted? Is she alright?”

“Oh yes, she’s fine.”

“Good. Have someone send flowers to her tomorrow with an inquiry about her wellbeing after taking such a tumble. Oh and no flowers to the Diamond. I want to meet her myself one day. Now, let’s read about this… Lady Whistledown. She already sounds like an interesting woman.”

Interesting it was indeed. The maids and kitchen staff hung onto your every word as you read the pamphlet. You weren’t exactly sure how you felt about the pamphlet yet but Pandora was right about one thing. It was literature. Lady Whistledown seemed bold enough to list subjects by name. By their entire name as if she wasn’t afraid of any repercussions. You supposed she wouldn’t be since Whistledown was obviously not her real name.

It wasn’t the subject of what she published that bothered you. A lot of it was standard gossip that goes around during the social season but it was her personal opinion. She almost seemed to want the ladies she wrote about to have miserable ends like inquiring about Daphne Bridergton’s flame burning out quickly. The lady must know that what she published could ruin a reputation. Gossip is no longer gossip when publicly written down. It has the potential to become fact.

You slapped the pamphlet against your hand. “Well, I suppose Mercutio Quick from York will no longer be the entertainment of the ton. Sad, and right as I earned a publishing deal too. Perhaps, I should take up a different art. Like making dresses for all my days or learning to play the harp and cello properly so it sounds better than a dying whale according to my brothers.”

The cook shook his head. “Your stories are very entertaining. Even Lady Whistledown couldn’t stop that.”

“Thank you for saying that. I am rather jealous that she is penning under a woman.”

“But you have chosen a name based on your favorite characters, have you not?”

“I have but maybe I should’ve chosen better. This Lady Whistledown might be making more change for women then I hope to accomplish.”

At this, the staff scoffed. Pandora cleaned up your dishes from the kitchen island in front of you.

“Your Highness, with the utmost respect, you are the one who is going to do more for women than this Whistledown. Everybody already wants someone other than your kind brother on the throne. They’re all praying your niece gives them any child so they may protest for her with the added benefit of an heir. They love her and what you write about in your letters make her seem even better. Hell, they love you and they don’t even know you. They listen to you. And with your words, Princess Charlotte the Younger will be on the throne and you will prove women are more than capable of whatever and we might have real change. Is she still on board?”

“Yes. She hates her father as much as anyone else does. George is nice once you get to know him… sort of. But Lettie approves as long as I agree to be in her court. I said yes of course.”

“Then it is settled. Thank God we might actually get change in our wretched lives. Now you must wash up and oversee the Bridgerton gowns before they are sent off. Shall we pick certain ones from your wardrobe?”

“Give the Diamond the one with lace and her family’s colors. Pick whatever you want for the rest of them. Oh and patterns must be on the Feather mother’s dress. I noticed she wears the most ill-favored ornamented dresses but she seems to like them. And put in an order with the modiste, I should like to do this often if this first gesture goes well and the gift wardrobe will need more clothes than it has at present. Clothes for the lower classes as well, nothing that could get them attacked and the clothes stolen off their bodies.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“And, by the way, I already washed up.”

“Yes, but now you’ve been sitting amongst smoke and smells.”

You gave up your fight and nodded as you jumped down from your stool and began the walk to your room. No one was around today. They wouldn’t be for most of the social season as they had other duties, including watching your siblings. Despite your madness, you weren’t the biggest concern at all. It was your rakish brothers in brothels, your sisters constantly leaving their husbands or suitors, and all of them sneaking away. You paused for a moment before walking quicker until you reached your room.

Why couldn’t you sneak out? Now would be the perfect opportunity. And no one was looking for you. It would be so easy to scale the vines up the garden wall and just have fun for a moment. You washed up quickly and put on a very simple dress — one more like the style of today rather than your father’s time. Grabbing a cloak and your mask, you put them down on the bed before sitting down at your writing desk to pen a letter. The slam of the door nearly made you jump out of your skin. You calmed as you realized it was just Pandora.

“Oh, good. It is just you.”

“I have the Bridgerton and Featherington dresses but what do you mean it is just me, Y/N?”

You stood up, abandoning the letter now that someone was around. “I am going out to see the ton.”

“What?”

“It is still dark. I have a map, my cloak, and the mask. And I have a very clear destination with vehicles that will get me back in the most discreet of ways should I need to use them.”

“Your Highness.”

“Pandora. I am nearing my introduction to society. You will all have to let me go at some point. I know everyone cares for my wellbeing but my happiness is gone. I am seen as nothing but my illness. Before I have an episode in public like the king, let me meet the ton. Let me not be Farmer Y/N for a brief moment of my life before I am a farmer forever, before I stay in that garden just like Father.”

Pandora’s mouth shut. She simply locked the door and unlocked the window. “You must return before your midmorning promenade and snack. Since you ate downstairs, I can convince them to overlook your absence of a breakfast request. And don’t take your mask. It’s better if they don’t know who you are at all.”

She gasped as you hugged her.

“Thank you, Pandora! Thank you! You are truly the bestest friend a woman could have.”

“Just go so you can come back quickly and I can have my sanity back.”

You closed the window, shocking Pandora as you pulled a picture frame off the wall to reveal a staircase that led outside. The door was hidden behind the trellis covered in vines and flowers. You pulled the hood over the cloak over you. The last thing you did was check for your bracelet and if your papers were inside. Until you were introduced to society, all the royal children had bracelets that couldn’t come off unless cut off. There were just in case measures with the eldest two but became necessary after so many nights sneaking out. The bracelet wasn’t going anywhere but you didn’t want to lose your birth certificate. It was your first safety measure. Even if you were kidnapped or harmed, you’d be returned to the palace for a pretty penny. You did pull your sleeves down so your bracelet wouldn’t be noticed.

You couldn’t contain your smile at the excitement of being out. London was so different without all the noise. The brothels and pubs were starting to close down for their few hours of rest and relaxation. You stuck to streets where you could see all the action but wouldn’t be easily spotted. No one bothered you until you arrived at your destination.

The footman stood to attention. “May I help you?”

“Yes, hello. I bring a package from Buckingham House for the Bridgertons, courtesy of Princess Y/N.” You handed him a letter with your official stamp at the end of it.

The footman’s eyes went wide as he handed you back the letter and ran inside. The Bridgertons looked up at the frantic knocking, pulling slips over Hyacinth and Daphne before telling the footman he could enter. The Bridgerton boys came upstairs after hearing the heavy pounding of their employee’s footsteps running up the multiple stairs.

“Is there a problem, Marshall?”

He panted before taking in a deep breath. “The Young Princess’ lady-in-waiting is here, bearing gifts.”

“WHAT?!”

The Bridgertons collectively yelled before the scramble happened. You tilted your head when you saw the windows open and a maid shake out some bedsheets. She squeaked when she looked down to see you. You laughed as she ran back inside. It couldn’t have been more than five minutes before you were escorted into the house by a very out of breath footman. The Bridgertons stood on the steps at the end of their entrance hall in chronological order with their mother starting the line at the very bottom step. Nervous smiles graced their faces when you finally reached them. You curtsied to which they curtsied or bowed back.

You gave them a second to assess you before speaking. Even though it wasn’t true in the slightest, everyone thought the ladies-in-waiting and manservants were reflections of the royals themselves. Not in character or value but in appearance. They figured they could form some sort of picture as to what the young masked royals looked like. If you were ugly then surely the princess was too. You hoped they at least found you to be average looking in appearance.

Anthony Bridgerton — the new head of house from what you remembered of your studies — stepped from behind his mother to greet you formally. He bowed once again, deeper, before offering up his hand. You settled yours in it to receive a chaste kiss.

“To what do we owe this sudden pleasure, Mrs…”

“Beckett,” you lied, just using Pandora’s last name.

“Mrs. Beckett?” He didn’t recognize the name as one belonging to an upper class member of the ton. He wasn’t sure he recognized the name at all.

“Apologies, I should explain. The princess doesn’t distinguish in her court, we are all there to work. All women are ladies-in-waitings, all men are valets. Regardless of station, regardless of marriage.”

“So, I am to take it that my earlier statement was incorrect.”

You nodded. “Simply Miss Beckett.”

“Well that sounds like very forward thinking actually. All the same, it is our pleasure to meet anyone in her highness’ court.”

Violet smiled as she watched the interaction. If her son was close to anyone in the princess’ court, especially someone that seemed so close to the princess as to be sent here, then he would be able to meet the princess with good graces. He’d be ahead of any man by leagues.

“Princess Y/N has sent me on her behalf. She extends warm greetings to the Bridgertons and the Featheringtons whom I will meet after our encounter. The princess congratulates Miss Daphne Bridgerton for earning Diamond of the Season as well as congratulations to the Dowager Viscountess for raising such a fine woman and to Viscount Bridgerton for chaperoning and keeping the family together therefore allowing his sister to shine.”

He cleared his throat and started to smile. “Please give the princess all of our thanks for the most kind of compliments.”

“And she would like to assure Miss Bridgerton that I have not been sent on behalf of any princes. Her brothers will not be bothering you today.”

They all chuckled when you laughed.

You set the first box down on the table next to you and opened it. “The princess has brought new dresses for the ball. The Diamond and the rest of her family should have the opportunity to shine with the utmost and wholehearted respect and support of the Crown. Please, enjoy them.”

The family ran to the table, picking out dresses and suits and matching them to the person’s name on the paper pinned to each garment. They kept singing praises and admiring the outfits. Violet turned back to you.

“When are you planning on visiting the Featheringtons?”

“In an hour or so, I must be back before the princess’ morning promenade. She has a very busy day afterwards.”

“Will the princess be introducing herself this season?”

“Hyacinth!” Anthony and Violet yelled at the same time.

You laughed. “It is no trouble. I’m at liberty to answer as the princess’ head valet.”

“Valet? I thought you said they were all men. They are usually all men.”

“If the princess should become heir to the throne then she will receive a male valet alongside me. For now, it is just me. The Crown believes someone of the same gender should always be with her should she need to confide in someone about very personal matters.” You took a breath before testing the waters. “Such as affections of the heart.”

It had dawned on you in that moment that you could spy on the ton. When the time came, you would still have to dance with all the bachelors of the United Kingdom but you at least you would have a better picture of them. You’d have to apologize to Pandora for the countless strokes she was about to earn from you but you couldn’t make this your only time sneaking out.

Violet smiled, knowing she was right. “Well, would you like to stay for breakfast?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“It would be no trouble at all. We have more than enough room. Eloise, dear, if Penelope is to come over please request that she do so now.”

(part 2)

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@venomsvl @peaches-n-sunscreen @summerellaz @supernaturallover2002 @sambucky8 @9daykrisr @thebitchinleo @23victoria @scarlets-widow @pagetpagetpagetpaget @lovexnatasha @awesomebooklover17 @1234-angelika @imatrisk @blackreaderatrisk @princess-jules47 @alexloveskili @a-marie-a @siriuslysirius1107 @i-have-no-life-charlie @daykrisr999

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #benedict x reader #benedict bridgerton x princess!reader #benedict fluff #bridgerton fluff #fic

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married-to-google-translater · 2 months ago

Note

Hello, I would like to ask for an imagine of Leona and Jamil in a self-aware AU, being in love with a reader, who has one of them as a favorite (you can decide if you want Yandere or not)

Okaaaaay~ I hope u enjoy this :3

Yandere Leona Kingscholar

Leona wouldn't care much about being a game character.

He would care more about not being able to cuddle with the real you.

This dude is very chill...

At least until he realizes that some other people can flirt with you.

Leona would definitely not approve of this.

He would have to come up with something.

However, knowing that he is your favorite character would calm him down a bit.

Oh Leona would be really smug if he was your favorite.

He would really rub it in Malleus' face.

You would improve his self-esteem a lot.

Too bad you're not in their world.

This would really annoy him.

Leona would be rich...

He might not have experience with how the code works, but he could certainly hire someone to figure it out.

His family would get the bill :3

You would get a lot of edited interactions.

R.I.P Malleus' screen time.

Leona is not sure how, but he will find a way for you to be together.

Yandere Jamil Viper

Well, this would be a shock.

Jamil had never thought of himself as a game character.

He doesn't know how to deal with this at first.

However, things will get better with time.

Jamil believes that you still understand him better than anyone else.

Also knowing that he is your favorite makes it a little easier.

Jamil would have to explain all the time that his ability to hypnotize does not work in another world.

Believe Jamil would have tried.

If he got paid every time people think he would be richer than Kalim.

However, Jamil is not rich...

This would annoy him a lot because he can't bribe anyone to modify the code.

Jamil might try to learn on his own.

After all, he would be pretty smart.

If your game crashes when you try to put another character on your home screen, you know who to blame.

Jamil would probably want to find a way to enter your world so you could be together.

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thatnonameuser · 4 months ago

Text

The Red King holds a Bleeding Head

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I-I-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

<Yes, but->

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

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

<I’ll help you on one condition.>

“Anything!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t even know what happened next.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then the world blurs.

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

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

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

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

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

What a great way to start the morning.

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

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

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

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

“Yeah!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But before that…..

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You can do it, Dorm Leader!”

“Knock ‘em dead, sir!”

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

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

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

“I do too, Grim.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well, now what?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You had enough of this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He did not.

He did not just say that about you.

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

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

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

He punches Riddle clean across the face.

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

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

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

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

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

Ace spits some facts.

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

“What are you even talking about?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This might not be good.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The rose trees! They’re floating!”

“This is some serious magic!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…..By playing cards?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He snaps, his voice laden with venom.

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

…..What.

Did he just-

No way, he just did. He did.

Shit. Shit...SHIT.

FUCK YOU, RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS!

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

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

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

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

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

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

What is blot?!

And why is Riddle-

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

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

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

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

…..he comes out a monster.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay but what does that mean?!”

“Please explain!”

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

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

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

“Ms. ____-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait! This is dangerous!”

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

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

“Yeah, he’s right. That’s weak.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Things are going…..well enough.

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

Here’s the good news.

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

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

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

But here’s the bad news.

Riddle’s fast. Very fast.

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

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

Why?

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

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

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

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

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

It hits him square in the forehead.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Henchman!”

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

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

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

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

It’s a voice.

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

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

“Isn’t it….Mother?”

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

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