#technically the question is very specifically

[muntitled]

Work In Progress

Pairing: Gwi-nam x fem!reader

Summary: Gwinam learns you never know how much you love something until lose it…

Warnings: God Complex!Gwinam, Dark!fic, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, Shy!reader, Bullying, Unrequited Love, Toxic Relationship, Jealousy, Madonna whore complex, Narcissism, Weaponizing!Cheongsan (sorry boo), Public sex, Unprotected Sex, Pral Sex, Underage Sex (technically), Masturbation Fem!rec, Dom/Sub, God Kink?, DUB/CON, humming, Spitting, Extreme Degradation, Mentions of Rape, Dacryphillia, Humping,Choking, Gagging, Subspace, Slapping, Sadism, Masochism, Breeding Kink,

A/n: the word 'rape' is used. Please be aware. You might recognize this fic if you've read my other stuff but it's because I rewrote it for another character cus no one was really checking for Gwinam like that. Kdrama fics are quite niche.

I'm not responsible for the media you consume

You have made peace with the incomparable fact, long ago, that if God existed then he was far too busy to attend to you. There is just too much going on all at once: Smartphones are threatening devolution. The planet is on the edge of a burning match. There are bigger things than this.

Still, swirling in the depths of your stomach is the incriminating need to cry, and pray, and perhaps maybe even touch yourself, too.

Your moral compass is a work in progress.

It had a knack for getting nefariously cloudy, especially when he entered the mix…

Gwinam's eyes are blown into saucers as he looks down at you. He is utterly restless, not knowing what to do with himself, when you took so much of him, so well. His satisfaction has you fighting the urge to hum and moan around the head of his cock.

Despite all this, you are clearly aware of the fact that you should not be enjoying this at all. Not one bit.

For starters, your knees are cutting into gravel, your shirt is unbuttoned because Gwinam was like a moth to a fucking flame when it came to your ample breasts and his hand was locked tightly in your kinky curls, forcing his cock even further down his throat.

You clench your toes, trying not to gag.

"Fuck, you're taking me so well," Gwinam got exceedingly verbal during most of your secret trysts. With his slurred speech, the boy could murmur every curse, praise and degradation under the sun.

"Such a good fucking slut," but the invisible word always hung heavy between you two. A word you always wanted to hear him say…

Mine. Mine. Mine.

He had always, and would always fail to claim you, in any capacity, even under the spell of sexual intoxication.

"What they don't understand… Is that I'm actually a really nice guy." Gwinam begins that weird quirk where he speaks to himself while he uses your body for his own pleasure. You were made to question whether you were his therapist or his whore. You love it though.

Every habit or quirk of his was indiscriminately locked away in a safe and buried in the depths of your consciousness.

"I'm really-" You slide your tongue along his shaft, ripping a hoarse groan from his chest and momentarily stumping his verbal momentum.

"What no one seems to understand, is that… I'm a… fair fucking guy, too." Feeling himself get too close, Gwinam eases his cock fully out of your mouth, languidly stroking himself but still assuming a firm grip on your hair. He is operating on that very specific plain of narcissism that

was special to Gwinam. He is aware of your presence, physically, but his words are spoken into the open air, like you are an inanimate object. A glorified fleshlight.

"And that fucking Jinsu," He punctuates his sentence with an incredulous laugh- it blossoms across his usually stoic visage, raising his buttercup cheekbones towards his smiling eyes. All you can do is sit back on your haunches, lift the sleeve of your fitted school jersey to wipe away the excess saliva. You remain kneeled in front of him, knowing he has yet to finish.

As he talks, a slow feeling of admiration seeps into the pit of your stomach which is utterly pathetic, given that your feelings will not ever be reciprocated.

"They wanna make me seem like a murderer-" he exclaims, "Me?! It's not my fault he tried to kill himself,” He laughs incredulously. His smile is utterly dazzling in the unambiguous morning glow, with his rugged hair messy just how you like it. You recognize his black undershirt as the same shirt he might've worn yesterday, and the day before that, and perhaps even the day before that. His school shirt was wrinkled and unkempt and his shoes had seen far better days - even better years.

Brewing inside you is the need to take care of him. You knew the rest of the student body viewed Gwinam as an earth-dwelling parasite. Something that is only capable of thinking within the capacity of its own survival. Something that takes, and takes, and takes. But how could he know anything different? You suspected that his home life was built on the foundation of survival, on needing to be the loudest, and proudest, and baddest of them all.

"What the fuck are you doing?" The sharpness of his words slice through your thoughts, bringing you back to the lot behind the science block. The sound of students trickling in for their morning classes filled your ears but Gwinam's gaze was placed firmly on something below his exposed cock. Throughout this mindless tirade, your hand had taken to rubbing soft, comforting circles against his leg, quite literally on its own accord. Gwinam is bent over, head tilted as he watches you questioningly. You rip your hand away, embarrassed by the weird show of affection. Seconds stretch to a minute, and your stomach sinks as time passes.

Gwinam, eventually dismisses you, as he always does. He shakes his head and resumes his stroking. "Whatever," He says, tilting your own head back and lining your mouth with the head of his cock once more. His visage darkens into a cruel sadistic grin. "Tell me you want me to come in your mouth."

Almost insitinvely, you did as he ordered, and like clockwork, he groaned and cursed and emptied himself inside your mouth. You swallowed his cum, wondering if he knew how deeply and truly your admiration actually was. There is a moment, perhaps imagined, after he's finished, when the aftershocks are still running rampant through his body, in which his fingers gripping your hair, rub along the side of your soft, supple cheek. It stays there for longer than necessary, leaving bits and pieces of your composure scattered in its wake.

Gwinam straightens his posture, stuffing his flaccid cock back into his pants before making himself as presentable as the student body knows him to be (which admittedly is not a lot).

Before he turns to walk away, he leaves you stranded on a glacier with his ice cold words cutting deep into your beating heart.

"Tell anyone about this-"

"And I'm dead," You interject, "I know."

And with that, you pull your ruffled collar over your lint-free school jersey and check your reflection on your phone to assess the damage Gwinam and his iron grip might have left. You needn't wait for an extension on the conversation because your job here was done, (pun so malevolently intended). As far as Gwinam is concerned, you are an easy conduit to release his frustrations because your unpopularity makes you so incredibly inconspicuous. You blend into any given crowd at any given moment, your name seldom reaching the heights of ridicule among his group because you are so forgettable… There had been no reason to point out your flaws, not because you did not have any, but because you were simply invisible.

It is particularly strange to have any social interaction beyond the bounds of forced proximity through group projects and class discussions… so Cheongsan gifting you even a sliver of attention had been violently unorthodox. So unorthodox in fact, you failed to look up from the weathered pages of your novel when his gentle voice wafted in your direction. It was second period, English, your teacher was running late and while the class descended into mayhem you decided to read.

"I don't know if you're aware of this but…" Cheongsan leans over your desk, a deep shadow over the pages alerting you to his presence, "They both die at the end."

It was incredibly rare that Cheongsan, who sat at the desk directly in front of you, ever felt the need to strike up conversation that was not purely academic. So naturally, you peer up at him with shocked, questioning eyes.

"Sorry?"

"Y-Your book," He stutters, suddenly overcome by a wave of embarrassment even though there was nothing at all to be embarrassed about… he turns his chair slightly in your direction, his eyes darting to the door and the empty teacher's seat before meeting yours once more.

"'They Both Die At The End. The title of the book you're reading."

"Oh…" You affirm, rocking your head back and forth, "You were making a joke?"

"Nah," Cheongsan waves a large hand in dismissal, "The only thing I made was a fool of myself." You're not sure when it happens but you feel the lower half of your face melting into what you suspect is a smile. You can feel your shoulders relaxing and your novel lowering imperceptibly, to see more of him.

"Work on your delivery next time and maybe we'll be getting somewhere."

"You know- I swear I had a pair of balls before the start of this conversation," He purses his lips and clasps his hands on his lap in a dramatic display, "Now I'm not quite sure where they went."

Gwinam's feet pass over the threshold as soon as the sound of your laughter rushes past him. It is almost charming in its familiarity but incredibly curious in its rarity. He can't recall ever seeing you with your head thrown back while the instinctive sound of amusement races through your throat. He does not know he's staring until someone in his friend group shoves past him, to get to their own seats.

His eyes remain on you as he makes his way to his desk, hoping, perhaps, that you would turn your head infinitesimally, in acknowledgement of his presence in the row of desks to your right. You do nothing of the sort and it not only fills him with a weird sort of dissatisfaction but it bubbles into full blown vexation when he realises who is capturing your attention so viscerally.

Gwinam has never prided himself on his patience or tolerance. Overthinking being something he lived without. Most of his actions were spurred from things he felt in the now, and he was really fucking uncomfortable with what was happening now.

Perhaps if he…

"You didn't let me know we were having a picnic," The sound of a chair scraping against the tiles had both you and Cheongsan rallying into silence. Gwinam appears at your side, pushing the chair against yours so he, too, sits facing Cheongsan. Cheongsan who suddenly appears incredibly uneasy. Gone is the comfortable atmosphere cooked by easy and amicable conversation. Gwinam injecting himself into your little bubble created a suddenly charged and suffocating atmosphere. You cannot keep your hardened eyes off Cheongsan as Gwinam lowers himself to his chair, legs spread as he slouches down, like he always does.

"Don't stop now," He exclaims, completely oblivious to the fact that your Science teacher might walk in at any minute. "What were we talking about?" Your heart wrestles in your chest as you see him turn to address you in your periphery. His slouching puts him a level lower than you but it does nothing to lessen his intimidation. "Maybe I should ask, Cheongsan? What were you guys talking about?" There is not a trace of friendliness present in Gwinam's tone, in fact it's the very opposite. Your nerves, swelling with anxiety, only escalates into full on panic when you feel him place a large hand on your skirt under the table.

Cheongsan's voice is low and his eyes are trained on the floor, "Books-" Gwinam cuts him off with fervour.

"Books! How interesting!" The hyperbolic wonder in his tone is utterly rude and unbecoming, but still you refuse to look at him. "And tell me, Cheongsan… how many books have you read so far?"

It is then that Gwinam's once stationary hand begins the faintest trace of movement. He begins slow and tame, his callouses barely registering on the soft fabric of your chequered school skirt until his fingers prod the lining of your skirt…

your breath hitches in your throat.

Never had Gwinam ever felt the desire to touch you. Not in the way he made you touch him. It was made explicitly clear that only he would benefit from your secret rendezvous' and so you were left to deal with your aching cunt alone, with the image of the face he made when he came, still burned into your mind. It had never been about you.

"A couple," Says Cheongsan, fighting to show this bully that he was affected by his intimidation. If only he knew that with every advance Gwinam's palm made, you simply were not there.

"A couple books?" Asks Gwinam for clarity. He remains lax and languid on the inside, but the nature of his wandering hand underneath the desk tells a new story. He finally slips under your skirt. His palm connects with the softness of your thighs and he seems utterly pleased by it

His hand is immediately restless to explore how far you would let him go. Which isn't very far.

Not at all.

If he thought he could suddenly touch you after myriad occasions of using you like a discarded toy… he had another thing coming.

The tips of Gwinam's fingers make gradually increasing strokes along your thigh until his fingers prod the stretch marks on your inner thigh. It is there when you stop him, clenching your legs together, blocking his hand from any further movement.

Gwinam's voice is strained as he says, "And you like reading, Cheongsan?"

Sensing something brewing between the two of you - your withdrawn, hazy gaze, staring directly through him and Gwinam's overabundance in questions, has Cheongsan reeling backwards.

"I asked you a question, Cheongsan."

"I like reading."

"Good! That's really good!" Quite suddenly, Gwinam tilts the ends of his half-moon nails into your thigh, forcing them to weaken and unclamp. Before you're even able to think, his palm is cupping your cunt through your panties- forcing an indecent yelp from your throat which you quickly (and very badly) disguise as a cough.

Gwinam is utterly pleased while he continues mindlessly stroking your cunt. Not for the purpose of any glorious stimulation it seems. His hand is just there to show you (and perhaps maybe himself) that he has access to the most private part of you. That thought alone has an unforeseen and sudden wave of lust coursing through his veins and surging straight to his hardened cock. He thinks of all the things he could have done to you but failed to do. He thinks about how, up until this point, he had ever been satisfied with using your mouth alone, not when he was denying himself the softness of your pussy all along. He felt angry with himself, for being so fucking stupid, he is angry at Cheongsan for seeing whatever it is he saw in you, way before he did and, possibly most harrowing of all is the fact that he is angry with you. And he can't help but be angry at you. How easily you whore yourself out to any and every man. If this thing with Cheongsan had gone far enough, would you venture as far as to suck his cock in deserted sectors of the schoolyard? Had you even fucked Cheongsan before?

You bite down on your lower lip as your head bows to your book once more. The words blend into one another, and all you can feel is a rise in temperature and Gwinam's suddenly restless fingers, pressing rudely against your clit - or the sole purpose of ripping an orgasm out of you right then and there, at the very back of an unsupervised classroom, with Cheongsan still very much a part of the conversation.

"You've got so many books to read in your lifetime," Says Gwinam. He sits up slowly, likely spurred on by the dampness seeping through your panties.

"Don't cut your life short by trying to entertain other people's girlfriends, okay?"

Your skin feels like you are bathing in magma and you hope Cheongsan could not see the slight tremor on your hand as you gripped the sides of your book with more force than necessary. His words, however - they have you shifting forward and widening your legs minutely. You crave for nothing more than to roll your hips in tandem with the circles he's pressing against your clit.

"Understood?"

Your orgasm is dangerously close, with the promise of sheer, disgusting shame and embarrassment if he continues. You feel Cheongsan give you one final look, perhaps pleading for an interjection of denial at some point but you've taken to bouncing your knee under the table, hoping the vibrations might create enough friction to aide Gwinam's hands. He is keeping you trapped in a space of wanting. So much so, that this almost feels like a punishment.

Once Cheongsan is turned back around and facing the front of the class, Gwinam lowers his lips to your ears. You're so completely stimulated, even the warmth of his breath as you fight the urge to hump into his hand like a naughty little thing until you make a mess all over his hand.

"You're such a fucking slut, you know that?" Your book drops to your desk - muffled by the sounds of the classroom cacophony.

"Fuck," You whisper to yourself, blinking your eyes shut, fighting to ward off the need but to no avail. His fingers are long and limber, and they have you nearly cumming right there, in front of your entire fucking class. Had it not been for Mr Lee's haphazard arrival into the class, and the swift removal of Gwinam's fingers from between your legs… you might truly have become the slut he so often labeled you as.

Instead of moving to his designated seat, Gwinam lifts the same hand that has previously been in between your legs, right into the air.

"What?" Asks Mr Lee, his voice as lacklustre as his appearance.

"Can we go? We were excused by the Principal to assist Mrs-"

"Fine, fine," Says Mr Lee with a wave of dismissal before turning his attention to the rest of the class. "The rest of you, open your textbooks to page 56."

Gwinam's hand is clamped around your forearm, already leading you swiftly out the door in a long and wide stride. Had it been any other teacher at all, they might have recognized this for what it so clearly was.

"Here," you have barely made it fully into the girl's bathroom before Gwinam is stuffing his fingers down your throat, making you gag and yelp at the sudden intrusion. "Tell me how good you taste." He doesn't even bother to make sure you're truly left alone in the bathroom before pushing your front against the bathroom counter.

"Answer me when I'm talking to you," He forces his fingers deeper down your throat, causing you to cough and gag around them. You're supposed to be afraid because you've never seen him like this. Gwinam is always a ball of energy between trysts, but it's usually an energy he can somewhat contain.

You don't know what to do with him, not when he's watching you choke on his fingers through the mirror, while his other hand fondles at your breasts and rips your bra down until your nipples are poking through your school shirt.

The figure in the mirror distorts as your eyes begin to water. Thick beads of water grow pregnant at the ends of your eyes before rolling down the side of your face.

"My girl," Gwinam presses his face into your hair, breathing you in, pressing his front against your back. His hard cock in unmistakable through his pants, "My messy little girl,"

You finally moan candidly around his fingers, your fingers gripping the countertops while your hips buck into nothingness. Your eyes plead with him in the mirror, hoping they relay how utterly useless with lust you have become. It would not take hard work to cum, you're sure one more flick against your material-clad nipples might send you over the edge.

"Fuck, why didn't I think of this sooner," This is all new, even for the two of you.

"Spread your legs." He commands, even though his feet are already kicking them apart. "Come here," you break eye contact in the mirror to face the boy behind you.

Gwinam removes his fingers sitting in your mouth, leaving a trail of unbreakable saliva in its wake before replacing it with a long and messy kiss- one that has his tongue forcing itself inside.

Gwinam weaponizes your distraction to slide your panties to the side with one hand and rub your clit with his other, spit-coated hand.

You break away from the kiss, neck craning back and mouth hanging open while your eyebrows dissolve into crescents. You cannot look away from him, as you hump his hand.

"You wanna cum?" You nod enthusiastically. "And what if I told you, you can't cum until I've raped that little pussy of yours? Hm? What then?" His words have you mewling from the sheer pleasure they bring and your orgasm threatens to snap once more.

"Fuck," He hisses, feeling unable to remove his hand from your wet cunt but needing to, in order to undo his belt and pull his aching cock out. "Don't you dare fucking touch yourself," He says in a deadly quiet voice before bringing his hand up to your mouth. "Spit." You don't ever think of disobeying him, not when you're swimming so deeply in your subspace, not when he's the one to bring you here.

Gwinam collects every bit of saliva you offer him before coating his cock in the stuff.

Deciding not to waste anymore time, Gwinam does what his body is screaming for him to do: he bends you over the bathroom counter and pushes cock right through your slippery folds. It's tense and painful and your voice is hoarse from doing all that screaming but the sudden contact strokes a deeply sated part inside yourself. His curved and pretty cock ram your insides with reckless abandon, all while he delivers harsh and sharp slaps against your cheek. Gwinam keeps a firm grip on your throat. His mouth is inches away from you while his hips rut into yours. His words are being delivered through clenched teeth.

"You think you're so fucking cute, huh? You think you can walk around fucking any guy who even looks at you, huh!?" It doesn't even register that Gwinam wrongfully suspects that there had been something between Cheongsan and you, but you keep your mouth shut. For all his indifference in the past, this is how you would make him pay.

"Oh~ Fuck." His cock bruises your cervix, leaving Gwinam balls deep and feral inside you. "Fucking Cheongsan?! You wanna give what's mine, to fucking Cheongsan?!" It's utterly depraved and animalistic and it has your orgasm cresting. "What would Cheongsan think? If he saw me raping you in the bathroom like this? What would he think? Would he still want your slutty pussy knowing I've been inside it? Knowing that I've cum inside you and completely ruined you for anyone else,"

"You…" The tears threaten to spill, "it's only ever been you, Gwinam- oh my God! I'm so fucking close!" You fight down tears as the lava begins to bubble at the pit of your stomach.

"S-Say it again. Tell me you want me!" He exclaims, "Tell me you fucking need me."

"I fucking need you, Oh my God" You push your hips back to meet his thrusts.

His voice wavers after your confession. His strokes becoming sloppy, "F-Fuck! I am your God, baby. You need me so fucking badly…" He nods to himself while his heavy cock finds purchase in a specific clump of sensitive tissue inside your cunt. It has you clamping your own mouth shut, your elbows falling to the counter with your ass sticks out towards him, only allowing him better excess.

"I need you," You agree, swallowing a ball of saliva as you nod towards him through the mirror, "I need your cum inside me."

"Yeah-," Gwinam says, "M'gonna fucking breed your pussy right here, in the school bathrooms- fuck!" His grip on your throat grows tighter until you're wholeheartedly cut off from your air supply. You hump his cock until you feel it twitch inside you.

"Fuck! You're fucking making me cum you stupid slut!" You feel his hot cum spurting inside your walls, triggering your own orgasm that has you gripping his cock like a vice. "Oh fuck- you're fucking milking my cock, baby. Fucking take it." His hips stutter against yours until you've completely drained him of his cum. A sharp tremor settles over your bones and you gasp in vague increments, waiting for the overwhelming state of euphoria to subside… but it never does.

The weight of what you had done comes crashing back down but you are unable to feel anything besides an immense wave of satisfaction at having your deepest need satiated.

"I think I nearly killed Cheongsan today." His voice is a hoarse echo within the school bathrooms.

"There is no Cheongsan," You say, watching him through the mirror, "In my whole world, there is only ever you."

And a part of him believes you but he refuses to affirm something as emotionally stifling as that. Instead, Gwinam's eyes flutter shut as his nose finds your hair once more. His cock is still buried inside you, and you hiss as he moves his hips slowly, almost insitinvely. He loves being so wholly enveloped by you. He loves feeling you everywhere.

[whatmakespaperwithoutitspen]

PROLOGUE 1 PART 1

AN INTERACTIVE TWISTED ONDERLAND X GN!READER FANFICTION.

You are [name] [last name]. A powerful villain stripped of their powers and sent to another world called Twisted Wonderland as a way of rehabilitation after attempting to end their world.

What is your fate? After all, everything solely relies on what actions you take as long as you trekk towards your happy ending, if it’ll even be happy in the first place.

TW: None.

You have chosen:

LIVE IN SPITE

Your chosen path has been woven.

Your choice has an effect on [name].

You scoff at the very idea of redemption demanded to you by the Gods that led you astray in the first place. How dare she? You didn’t want this new life, it was just thrusted upon you by Dawn’s hideous self-righteousness. Dying anticlimactically was better than all of this nonsensical game of angels and saints.

She wants to command you to be good? To be better? You’re already better, better than you could’ve ever been back in your Homeworld. So you’ve decided to be a petty and vanquish any thoughts of what Dawn had asked them to do once they’re in this new world. Instead, you’ll do the opposite of redeeming yourself; you’re going to become worse.

Of course, you’re not going to aim for “#1 Enemy of the entire World” again, you already did that before, it’d be redundant to go for it all over again. Besides, what you were fighting for no longer exists. No, no, all you’ll do is just sprinkle a little bit overe here and then there, nothing more or less. Like sharing your art to the world by spray painting Crowley’s portrait that sat welcomingly in his office.

The old crow deserved it, anyway! He was being irritating, cutting you off every time, going on and on about how ‘kind and benevolent’ he is, just his voice is enough to piss you off. To your ears, it sounded like nails on a chalkboard.

Let’s start from the beginning.

After your less than stellar first impression on the residents of this world—Twisted Wonderland was its name, not Wonder of Lands, Dawn can be so overdramatic—you are introduced to the place you had spawned in. Night Raven College, a notably high profile all-boys school for talented magicians all over the world. Like Dawn had said, this world has magic, but it works more differently than in your world.

Dire Crowley, Headmage of the school, attempted to magic you away since your Forte had been sealed by The Design (and you still don’t know how you can get it back), but unfortunately for him, his little mirror tricks aren’t going to work because you don’t belong anywhere in this world to begin with.

You didn’t mention coming from another world. It isn’t like Crowley specifically asked for that information to begin with, why would you share such personal information about yourself to someone?

You decided to really play into the role of  ‘lost soul’. You have a vast imagination so you came up with a simple lie—you had no memory of where you’re from and your life before you found yourself in Night Raven College, with the exception of your name. And for this, Crowley is now deemed responsible for you. Since you were technically still a student in Night Raven due to being chosen by the Dark Carriag, he decided to take you in.

And by his definition of taking in, he brings you to a rundown dorm building on campus and tells you that you’ll be living there until he knows what he should do with you and leaves before you can ask him questions or even complain. So kind of him.

If Crowley knew about Dawn’s otherworldly intervention of dropping you in this world, and it’s not the fault or an error of the Dark Carriage, he’d be less kind to such an outsider like you. It’d be worse if he knew your background.

So, you'll be referring to yourself as 'lost soul' for the time being.

After walking around the dreadful dump that is Ramshackle Dorm, you’ve decided that you’ll just set fire to Crowley’s office next time—“Mrahh!��� A startled noise from the basement made you pause. What was that? Who was that? Did this miserable, rundown place really have residents? You went downstairs to check it out. What you found there was beyond what you’d expected.

Apparently, cartoonish-looking ghosts are inhabiting Ramshackle, and now, they’re terrorizing a small creature with a cat-like appearance and blue fire for ears. You say cat-like because you aren’t sure what this creature truly is, with its forked tail, and prattle that no animal from your world was capable of doing. A talking animal, what has become of your life?

“G-get back! I, the Great Grim, will not take this!!” It howled as it spat out a ball of blue fire, directed at the ghosts. But the attack had no effect, for the ghost was quick to dodge it so effortlessly as they cackled tauntingly at the creature. You sigh as you take a nearby working lantern from a furniture and lifted it towards the ghosts, “Hey,” You called their attention, “Please leave,” You said as politely as you can with gritted teeth.

“Muehehe! Or else what?” One of them snickered. One of the ghosts appeared behind you and let out a loud, “Boo!” In your ear. You turned your head and eyed them, strictly unamused. The cowering creature on the ground was surprised of your reaction, “You.. you aren’t scared?” He asked, in awe.

Oh please, you’ve seen mangled bodies and literal bloodbaths, this kid show is nothing.

“H-hah! I knew it! You ghosts are just jokes!” The creature said overconfidently, attempting to mirror you, “You can’t do nothin’ to me!” Another ghost appeared behind Grim, placing their hands abruptly on the creatures shoulder, muttering a menacing, “Boo,”

“MYAHHHH!” The creature projected another blue fireball, but once again, the ghosts dodge it. This creature really is pathetic, you almost felt pity for it, “Do something!” It called out to you, demandingly. You roll your eyes, then pause when you see Grim’s fire spreading before it was quickly put out by one of the ghosts. Your lips quirk upwards as you drop the lantern on the ground, letting it shatter.

“What are you– hyieeee!!?” The ghosts all jolted when fire started to catch onto the wood from the lantern. You point to the creature, “You, make the fire bigger,”

“WHAT!?” Both the ghosts and the creature said in disbelief. The creature shrieked, “You’re crazy, crazy I tell you! Do you want the whole dorm building to burn down?!” You narrow your eyes at him, “Just do what I say if you want these ghosts off your back,” Grim grumbled incoherently before shooting his fireballs at the raging fire building up.

“Wahhhh! Put it out, put it out!!” They frantically attempted to do so, but the fire had gotten bigger thanks to Grim’s involvement. You take a few steps back until you’re in the middle of the staircase back as you counted in your head. The door bursts open, revealing a distressed Headmage, “What is going on here!?”

“Headmage, this student of yours burned down the basement!”

“The fire is still going!”

“Expel them. Expel them!” The ghosts all circle around Crowley, who was speechlessly staring at you. You, who didn’t look guilty at all, and the you who now has the creature from before hiding behind you, “And the raccoon thing too!” One of them added, making Crowley snap out of his daze, “Raccoon?” He looks at the creature behind you

“You. I thought I already kicked you out! How are you back here?” He pointed accusingly at the creature, who jumped at the sudden attention on him before retorting, “Heck yeah, I’m back. You can’t get rid of me that easily!” He said, baring his teeth at Crowley while clinging onto your leg. So much bark, yet such little bite.

“GUUAAAAARDS—!” Crowley yelled out. You hastily picked up the creature, “But Headmage,” You get into character once more, “You can’t! This furball protected me from the ghosts. I was so scared!” The creature blinked at you, bewildered, “You were?” You nodded solemnly, “We didn’t mean to burn down the dorm, honest. So honest! Scout’s honor.” You raise three fingers, “I’m even crossing my heart,”

“Protected?” Crowley questioned. You nodded again, “I didn’t think Ramshackle would have any ghosts… please don’t kick me out on the streets, Headmage! I swear I’ll do better! I know being magicless and an amnesiac is stretching it, but I’ll work hard, I promise!!”

“Amnesiac? Magicless? Crowley!” The ghosts start to turn on Crowley with disapproval on her face. Crowley raised his hands in surrender, “Why am I suddenly put on the spot!?” He shook his hands, “Okay, okay. What about this?” He uses his magic to put out the fire. You take notice of this.

Art of Water, or whatever they call that in this world. What are the limits and strengths of their magic, you wonder?

“I’ll ask one of the dorms if they have a spare room, yes? Though you aren’t sorted, it’s better than residing in a half-burnt building,” You repress the urge to laugh to yourself, your plan has worked, “Oh I wouldn’t want to impose,” You feign for a bit. Crowley shook his head, “You won’t be imposing at all, no worries! As for the rest that is unsaid, I still have to hold a meeting among the staff and Housewardens for that.”

“Wait, what about him?” One of the younger ghosts points to Grim. Crowley clicked his tongue, “Ah, right, that,” You looked down at the creature in your arms, “He stays,”

“Really?” The creature beams up at you, but you pay no heed to it. Instead, you look right at the Headmage, “I’ve grown attached to this… to him the moment he saved my life,” You gave the Headmage the most pleading look you can muster. Crowley easily breaks, “Alright, alright. Though familiars aren’t allowed at school, I’ll make an exception for your case.”

“Hey, I’m no familiar!” Grim complained, “I don’t want to be a magicless’ student’s familiar!”

You pinch Grim, making him yelp and fall silent, not letting your smile waver. This impudent little creature is not going to make your plans fall apart with his ridiculous howling.

“This is the Hall of Mirrors,” Crowley introduced as all three of them walked into the room, “These mirrors are no ordinary mirrors. They lead to the seven dorms in this school, all modeled after the Great Seven. Do you have any memory of them?” You shake your head, “Not a problem. I’ll make sure you have extra classes to help you keep up with the basics of our history and use of magic.”

“Now, you stay here while I go in and ask the Housewardens personally if they have extra room for you. Mmkay? Stay!” You watch Crowley walk into the mirror that reads ‘Heartslabyul’, disappearing into the reflective surface. You moved from where you stood to admire the mirror doorways.

“Hey! The Headmage told us to stay right there!” Grim pointed at the entrance.

“Quiet, you,” You hissed, “Honestly, can’t you l read the room? You little shit,”

“What’s with the sudden change in attitude? You were all skittish a while ago!” Grim bats at your cheek, “You were lying, weren’t you? Why’d you do that? Hey, I’m talking to you!”

“You should be grateful I did just that,” You dropped Grim onto the floor, “If it weren’t for me, you would’ve been in that basement, scared out of your wits, ‘til the end of time. Or worse, kicked out by that stupid birdbrain,” Grim lets out a yowl of pain, “Hey!!”

“What are you anyway?”

“A prodigy, that’s what!” Grim replied, “I was supposed to be the one in that coffin, not you. Hmph! The Dark Carriage has no taste.” Grim looked up and saw you walking away, “What the, human! I’m talking here!”

You felt yourself gravitating towards the mirror, as if they beckoned you. A calling that’s not really there, an instinct, you could say. You decide to follow this instinct, thinking: I’m sure the Headmage would appreciate the exercise of running around the entire campus until he can find me. You step into the mirror, feeling the world morph around you.

You distantly hear Grim’s voice behind you, “What are you… wait! Wait for meeeeeee!!”

The mirror you two just disappeared into stilled, with it reading above: Octavinelle.

Previous | Next

Taglist : @frootloopscos @illiviestrations

A/N: Psst. unreliable narrator alert! dont take anything [name] says or thinks to heart and focus on what they actually do. love you guys. 🤎

[glitteredbubbles]

Thank you so much for the tag @good--merits-accumulated !!

Favorite color: a dark green! Phthalocyanine green was brought to my attention recently and I love it

Currently reading: complicated question because I’m technically reading 7 books rn. But I plan on (hopefully) finishing Middlesex by Jeffery Eugenides soon and just started Notes of a Crocodile by Qiu Miaojin!!

Last song: Dambala by Exuma!! I’ve been listening to the album all day because 70s Bahamian music is something I didn’t know I needed in my life

Last movie: I forced my friends to watch The Company of Strangers (or Strangers in Good Company depending on where you look) for movie night last week because it’s one of my fav films of all time!!

Last series: …still have not watched anything past Squid Game 2. Technically Pop Culture Jeopardy if we’re just talking about TV shows. I plan on starting White Lotus soon though!

Craving: sour candy and Korean food (specifically kimchi fried pork)

Tea or coffee: coffee!! But like really sweetened and flowery flavors with oatmilk of course

Currently working on: so much tbh. Ignoring the multiple school assignments I’m juggling, I’m trying to finally finish my Anderperry WIP! I’m really close so I’m excited about that (I also randomly drafted a very rough idea for another fic that… I shan’t say because I fear it’ll be too complex for me to actually follow through with)

No pressure tags: @scriptscraps @axe-76 @ok-just-why @neil-perrys-suicidal-tendencies @poetrusic1959 @yourfavvgal @schofielded @emwallas176 @lc-27 @fervi-g @movielp-pany + any one who wants to join!!

[melodyofalba]

Forbidden Lesson

Scene 2 - After class Hours

Instead of the brightly lit, slightly chaotic main office, Ms. Reid led Alba to a smaller, adjacent room. It was still technically an office, but more private, more personal. A single window looked out onto a quiet courtyard, filtering the already softened afternoon light into a warm, muted glow. A comfortable armchair sat angled towards a small, round table, a welcome change from the rigid classroom desks. The air here was different too, quieter, imbued with the subtle scent of paper and something faintly floral – perhaps the perfume Alba had noticed earlier, now more distinct in this enclosed space.

"Please, have a seat," Ms. Reid said, gesturing towards the armchair.

She herself settled into a straight-backed chair opposite, positioning the round table between them, a vestige of professional distance. But even this small barrier felt less imposing than the teacher's desk had in the classroom.

Alba sank into the armchair, its plush fabric a comforting contrast to the usual hard plastic chairs. She watched as Ms. Reid moved with a fluid grace, settling opposite her. Up close like this, with no classroom distractions, Ms. Reid’s emerald eyes seemed even more intense, more captivating.

"So, The Awakening," Ms. Reid began, her tone still professional, but the edge of formality seemed to have softened further. "Symbolism. What specifically were you finding unclear?"

Alba, who had only a vague idea of what symbolism in The Awakening she was actually unclear about, quickly dredged up something from the lecture notes.

"Well," she started, trying to sound convincingly studious, "I was a little confused about the birds. The mockingbird and the parrot… and what they represent in relation to Edna's… awakening."

Ms. Reid nodded, leaning forward slightly, her elbows resting lightly on the table.

"A very perceptive question, Alba. The birds are indeed crucial. The parrot, squawking phrases it doesn't understand, can be seen as representing societal constraints on women, mimicking expectations without true understanding…"

As Ms. Reid spoke, her voice was low and engaging, explaining the symbolism with a clarity that was both illuminating and… strangely intimate in this close setting. Alba found it increasingly difficult to focus on the academic explanation. Her gaze kept drifting, tracing the delicate curve of Ms. Reid’s neck, the subtle movement of her lips as she spoke, the way the soft light played on the silk of her blouse.

"...and the mockingbird, on the other hand," Ms. Reid continued, her gaze meeting Alba's directly, holding it for a moment longer than strictly necessary, "is about imitation, about stifled creativity, perhaps… like Edna initially trying to imitate societal roles."

"Right," Alba murmured, nodding slowly, pretending to follow every nuance. But her mind was racing, less about literary analysis and more about the way Ms. Reid’s gaze felt like a warm touch, the way her own pulse quickened with every moment of sustained eye contact.

"Does that clarify things?" Ms. Reid asked, a slight tilt to her head, a hint of a question in her emerald eyes that went beyond academic understanding.

Alba hesitated, then, emboldened by the privacy of the room and the subtle shift in atmosphere, she decided to push a little further.

"Yes, that's helpful," she said, then added, almost as an afterthought, "You explain things so… clearly, Ms. Reid. It's really… inspiring." The word felt loaded, heavier than she intended, hanging in the air between them.

A faint blush rose on Ms. Reid’s cheeks, barely perceptible but undeniably there. Her gaze flickered down for a moment, breaking their intense eye contact, a small, almost flustered movement. When she looked up again, there was a new warmth in her expression, a softness that hadn't been there in the classroom.

"Thank you, Alba," she said, her voice slightly softer now. "That's… kind of you to say." There was a pause, a beat of silence that stretched out, thick with unspoken tension.

Then, Ms. Reid shifted slightly in her chair, reaching towards a shelf behind her.

"Perhaps," she said, her voice regaining a touch more professional briskness, "an example from another text might further illustrate the point. Let me just grab…" She stood and turned, her back momentarily to Alba as she scanned the bookshelf.

Alba watched her, her heart beating a little faster. Ms. Reid’s skirt hitched slightly as she reached up, subtly outlining the curve of her hip and thigh. It was a fleeting, unintentional movement, but in the charged atmosphere of the room, it felt significant, intimate. Ms. Reid found the book, a slim volume of poetry, and turned back, holding it out towards Alba. As she extended her arm across the table, their fingers brushed – a brief, feather-light contact, but it sent a jolt through Alba, electric and undeniable. Alba’s gaze flickered down to where their hands had touched, then back up to meet Ms. Reid’s eyes. This time, there was no mistaking the look in Ms. Reid’s eyes. The professional composure had definitely cracked. There was a vulnerability there, a flicker of… desire mirrored back at Alba, as clear as the sunlight streaming through the window. The academic pretense was thinning, the air in the room was growing thick with something else entirely. After class hours were definitely transforming into something far more… personal.

[part 1 here...]

[howlsofbloodhounds]

wait, im kinda confused now, doesn't osdd also develop from a trauma in childhood? Or am i missing something??

OSDD is not just the “plural disorder.” OSDD-1, the ones with alters and systems, does form from childhood trauma. OSDD is diagnosed when someone shows signs of a dissociative disorder, but does not meet criteria for an already existing dissociative disorder.

The main dissociative disorders are Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID), Dissociative Amnesia, and Derealization Depersonalization Disorder (DPDR).

If one does not meet the criteria for those but shows signs of a dissociative disorder that significantly impacts their life and functioning, they can be diagnosed with OSDD; and usually the person will be given a reason as to why they were diagnosed with it, but not something else.

There’s technically 4 “types” of OSDD, but i remember that someone will not be diagnosed with “OSDD-1” or “OSDD-2.”

I feel it also important to mention that, according to the wiki, these are not actually types; they’re just examples of presentations that can be experienced or observed in those diagnosed with OSDD. There could be more and different examples of presentations possible with OSDD.

It is just all OSDD, and a reason will be specified. Taken directly from the wiki, “An example would be specifying "OSDD (dissociative trance)".”

Someone who shows signs of a dissociative disorder but doesn’t mean criteria for the ones above, and isn’t given a reason why, can be diagnosed with Unspecified Dissociative Disorder or UDD.

These guys can also potentially have alters and systems and the like, they just aren’t diagnosed with DID or OSDD either because of a lack of meeting criteria somehow, or more likely, because there’s a lack of sufficient time. Possibly other reasons as well.

Taken from the Wiki, these are the 4 descriptions of 4 example presentations that can be present in the “catch all” diagnosis of OSDD;

“Chronic and recurrent syndromes of mixed dissociative symptoms:

The DSM states, "This category includes identity disturbance associated with less-than-marked discontinuities in sense of self and agency, or alterations of identity or episodes of possession in an individual who reports no dissociative amnesia".

The ICD-11 describes this presentation as "Partial dissociative identity disorder".

(This is the one commonly referred to as OSDD-1/OSDD1, and OSDD-1A and OSDD-1B. Systems and alters, like DID, but not DID because they fail to meet a specific criteria to be diagnosed with DID. OSDD-1A and OSDD-1B are also community terms im sure, someone will not be diagnosed with these letters or terms or numbers.)

Identity disturbance due to prolonged and intense coercive persuasion:

The DSM gives the examples of "brainwashing, thought reform, programming, indoctrination while captive, torture, long-term political imprisonment, recruitment by sects/cults or by terror organizations." People with this presentation, as a result, may experience distressing changes to and/or questioning of their identity.

(This one is commonly called OSDD-2. A very well known but fictional example of this is the Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes from the MCU.)

Acute dissociative reactions to stressful events:

This category is used for acute dissociative episodes which may last anywhere from a few hours to weeks, but typically less than a month. The dissociative conditions are characterised by "constriction of consciousness", including "depersonalization; derealization; perceptual disturbances (e.g., time slowing, macropsia); micro-amnesias; transient stupor; and/or alterations in sensory-motor functioning (e.g., analgesia, paralysis)."

(OSDD-3.)

Dissociative Trance:

This category represents a dissociative trance; "an acute narrowing or complete loss of awareness of immediate surroundings that manifests as profound unresponsiveness or insensitivity to environmental stimuli." The DSM specifies that "The dissociative trance is not a normal part of a broadly accepted collective cultural or religious practice".

In the ICD-11, this condition warrants a separate diagnosis of Trance disorder.”

(OSDD-4.)

So all in all, OSDD is simply a “catch all” diagnosis. Those diagnosed with it can have prolonged, childhood trauma—and those diagnosed with the first example presentation of OSDD typically and often do—but experiencing prolonged, childhood trauma is not a requirement or required thing to be diagnosed with OSDD.

“OSDD-2” is often even something that’s diagnosed due to extensive trauma, abuse, and manipulation experienced later in life as teenagers, young adults, adults, or even elderly.

One can experience this type of abuse as a child as well of course, but it’s not childhood specific.

Those who undergo the same type of abuse and trauma that those with “OSDD-2” (aka OSDD (Identity disturbance due to prolonged and intense coercive persuasion)) do, can instead be diagnosed with DID or “OSDD-1” (aka OSDD (Chronic and recurrent syndromes of mixed dissociative symptoms)) if they’re a system (because im pretty sure someone will not be diagnosed with two dissociative disorders, even if their experiences and symptoms match up or overlap with two), and not everyone who undergoes the abuse and trauma that those with OSDD-2 do will be diagnosed with OSDD-2 or any type of dissociative disorder.

For example, not every survivor of human trafficking or other forms of organized abuse develops a dissociative disorder or is diagnosed with OSDD-2, even if they experience some dissociative symptoms (likely as coping mechanisms) and likely have PTSD/C-PTSD symptoms. Just the same as not every cult survivor is diagnosed with OSDD-2.

[dadbastiandisaster]

It is a strange day that I have to seriously consider whether sperm whale would or indeed could eat Sebastian.

[soranker]

Hiiii not sure if anyone's asked this yet but any advice on how to improve on art & anatomy? I use to draw a lot wayyyy back in high school but then stopped because of life getting in the way but now I really wanted to get back into art but realized my art isn't as good as it use to be & I never really cared too much about studying anatomy so all my anatomy/proportions are really wack & I'd like to get better at it. Hope you're having a good day!!! 💞💞💞

HI!!! i dont have any formal training in anatomy nor have i really done any studies, so unfortunately i think i can only offer general advice, but hopefully you can still find it helpful! here's what i'd recommend based on my own experience...

focus on proportions BEFORE anatomy! nailing down the size/length of each body part in relation to each other will give you a good foundation before getting into the specifics of anatomy, since you can practice this with simple shapes (circles, boxes, tubes, etc.). then practice anatomy/build on top of that, rather than trying to figure them out in parallel

practice from real life observation/references (ex. figure drawing)! even if you want to draw stylized, it'll be much more helpful in the long run if you study from real life. you'll be a lot more informed in how body parts actually connect to each other or how they move. observe observe observe! take pics of yourself/watch how your body moves--you can be your own most accessible resource, and a mirror and camera can be your best friends

find a way to keep yourself motivated to practice anatomy! everyone says that you only get better with practice and time... and it's true! but i can understand that sometimes it's hard to motivate yourself. if you ask me, draw your favorite characters :) it's literally all i do HAHA. my mentality is that... if i'm drawing something that i like then the practice feels less of a chore lol

[nach0]

You are the Realmleaper. You are an anchor without a ship to pull you back up. You are stuck watching retellings of the same play over and over. This time you are...

>The Party's companion >The Rouge's guide >The Kid's protector >The King's informant >The Script's rewriter >The Original's hope >The Researcher's project >The...

Hmm. You don't know yet.

Time to find out!

[jam-packed]

thank god im not a journalist cus the amount of eye contact would kill me

[marinecorvid]

blorbos from my brain

[st4rstudent]

So. I have a BURNING question.

Are Mac and Winn your ocs? I know theyre in the Canon Lore, but did you make them and put them there?? Is this a dumb question? You're like, the Mac and Winn Authority. It just always made sense to me that they'd be YOUR toons, but now that I think about it, I've never seen anything implicitly stating that you made them...

So, did you?? Make them?

(No matter if you made them or not, i LOVE the comics you make about these guys. Youve really endeared them to me.)

very sorry to disappoint, but they're not! I didn't have anything to do with their creation or writing, they're canonical ttcc toons! I'm just a big fan of them, although I have captured them in a giant net like this

net-capturing aside, im very happy to hear I've endeared you more towards them! I like them a lot . looks at you with giant sparkly eyes

[crimeronan]

i have a couple more asks about how eda responds to princess AU luz reaching out to her & i'm not sure when i'll finish the fic so i will give u guys these spoilers in advance. obviously if u dont want fic spoilers dont read the rest of this post.

eda won't even See luz until raine pleads her case, which i mentioned like months and months ago but am still thinking about. lilith is like "sister PLEASE" and eda is like "you can all go pound sand. lmfao" & then raine is like "look i know we're estranged but-" and eda's like "I DOOOON'T LIKE THAT YOU'RE SIMPING FOR THE EMPIRE" followed by "oh wait. this isn't about the empire this is actually for real about the kid. lol omg. dude. rainestorm. have you adopted literally the worst child you could Possibly care about-"

2. eda won't let hunter or lilith in the house, at least at this point in time. both of them are extremely irritated about this and might even bond over it. besties <333 i guess <333

3. eda doesn't trust luz's bright spirit or good intentions or friendly nature At All. she is very much like early amity in this regard. eda is like you're not going to charm me kiddo >:( i'm curmudgeonly >:( you can talk a big game about accepting wild witches but i won't believe it until i see it!! >:( i know what people look like when they're just playing politics!!

and luz is like. no no no i can prove it. wait hang on i can prove it i Promise. i SWEAR i'm not lying to you

and pulls out her glyphs.

and does what she does.

and eda is like.

Fucking.

WHAT????

[nabaath-areng]

"Make sure everything is in order before completing!" oh god i thought it was right but now because you asked im immediately doubting myself

[aparticularbandit]

In which I have now looked through black and white split pants, have been disappointed that they overwhelmingly tend to have the black and white on opposite sides that what I would need for the Monokuma cosplay project, and am now debating finding white pants that I like and attacking them with a black fabric markers.

Junko is disappointed in me, but I'm a beginner! She cannot expect me to try and sew two halves of PANTS together. (I know better than to even attempt this with jeans. They require special sewing stuff. I'm a BEGINNER, Junko!)

[jichanxo]

in the light [from apr/2022] based on this video around 7:59

[waywardsalt]

theres a lot abt post-ph ive never really mentioned. grants theres also a lot i havent figured out