#theos basement

[eulaliasims]

It's a makeover, makey-makeover--

This house is originally from Plasticbox's Middleground; I keep plastering more and more CC onto it over time. Here's some more.

After 40 years, Clara and Three finally have real stairs going into their basement bedroom. What's in the under-the-stairs storage? Books, of course.

I put a closet into the roof space, because Theodore needs somewhere to put his two changes of clothes.

Chiana gave him that vase! I'm not used to seeing that object outside of when I delete CC.

[clavissionary-position]

This is certainly a... creative chibi o.O

From the upcoming kiss event where the guys initiate kinkplay (Theo puts syrup on you???)

I'm guessing Jean will be in part 2. I hope he is. And I hope his kink is something new over his usual foot fetish ahaha

[pixel-bloom]

Max wanders upstairs, away from the crowds and loud music. He finds Theo...drinking?! Oh, it’s a non-alcoholic drink*, thank goodness.

Theo: Do not look so worried. Just up here to get some fresh air, much like yourself it looks like.

Max: I didn’t think anyone else would be up here. Hey...did you really mean what you really said down there? About being brothers and stuff. How I could tell you when things are tough?

Theo: Of course I mean it. You are going through a hard time, I can tell. What is going on?

Max: It’s kind of a long story. I’m not too sure I should even be telling you it but...

[becomingkatie]

My parents brought me this desk and the chair that goes with it from their house - it was in my grandparents’ house and when they downsized and offered up some furniture I claimed it, so then it was in my room at my parents’ house and then I moved out and didn’t take all my furniture and now it has been like ten years and they’re like “here is your stuff we are not holding it any longer.” SO I got the desk and I’m happy and there’s also boxes on boxes of “sentimental t shirts” which I’m pretty sure aren’t sentimental but are just things I couldn’t be bothered to trash or donate a decade ago.

But the desk! Is in my house now! And Theo has claimed it!

[bloodfestgf]

It's like they're literally being forced to relive all the stuff that happened to them

[hellishgoat]

Very very sneaky she is...

[macheezee]

no bc oomf is going to be a himbo and y'all are going to love him.

[witchofthewild]

I start the fire. I go into town. I come back. The fire is dead. My housemate is sitting right next to the fireplace. It is twenty degrees and dropping outside. There is firewood twenty feet away from the fireplace.

[onlyoneofeachofme]

just watched ep 3 of The Haunting of Hill House and i just KNOW i’m about to have some fucked up dreams tonight

[tyalientur-blog]

Hill House Questions

OK, so I have a few questions after finishing the season. I am listening to the audiobook of the Shirley Jackson novel so please don’t give answers that would spoil the book! (I’ll get there eventually.)

1. Whose hand WAS Theo holding?

2. What happened to Luke after The Tall Man found him under the bed?

3. What was the story of the Basement Ghost? It’s not William Hill, because he becomes The Tall Man.

[cherryslyce]

Second Son (Epilogue) | Regulus Black

Series Synopsis: Forbidden from contacting Harry over the summer, you opt to explore the eerie halls of Grimmauld Place where you stumble upon a lonely portrait of the House's second son.

— Chapter Synopsis: The new era. The end of one chapter, and the beginning of another.

Part XIX / Series Masterlist

Pairing: Regulus Black x GN!Reader

Notes: Thank you all so much.

You peer out of the fenestrated walls, eyes glazing over the faint swinging of wooden signs and veranda covers. The ambience around you swirls like a sheer veil as you lean back into your seat, sighing out blissfully as your cooling charm beats with fervor, shielding you from the blistering heat of the summer day. 

Dragging your eyes away from the bright view, you run your finger along the thick cardstock in front of you. The blocky letters begin to fade into the background of snowy mountain caps and faded waterfalls as you continue to trace your eyes over it. 

‘Greetings from OREGON’ 

You flip the postcard over and swipe a finger across the swirly letters. 

‘Hope you’re well, kid. - A. Fiske’ 

A sudden thudding noise echoes across from you, and you slowly shift to sit straight as your eyes drag themselves away from the letters. You tilt your head with a coy smile as your companion leans back to get comfortable, evidently miffed by the unrelenting heat waves. 

“Good to see you, B.” You smile saccharinely, fingers dancing along the chilled cup in front of you. 

Blaise rolls his eyes and places his own drink down on the table—iced americano, simple, bitter, and everything that Blaise wasn’t. You would never understand his fascination with the drink. He huffs before smiling sarcastically at you, “Yes, how long has it been? Two days?” 

“Don’t whine, it’s unbecoming.” You mutter playfully, twirling your straw around the rim of your cup. 

“Merlin, you’re even starting to sound like her. Really, no wonder mother finds you so endearing.” He tuts as he throws his elbow back to rest on the back of his chair. 

You chuckle and shake your head, “Okay, let’s digress then.” You lean forward and cross your legs, “How is Draco doing? Theo is irritatingly uninformed on the topic.” 

“He’s alright, thanks to you and Potter anyway. His father might not be facing a long sentence, but many of the elected Wizengamot heads are shifty even with your statements. Lucius Malfoy has been a slippery eel for a few years too long.” He hums, face unflinching as he sips on his potent drink, “How the mighty have fallen so.”

Nodding, your voice drops lower as you survey the rest of the cafe, “Azkaban will still do a number on him even with a lighter sentence. Narcissa is worried.” 

“As she should be,” he replies curtly, “and speaking of Azkaban, how is Lord Black nowadays? He’s become quite the hermit. Is he faring well?” 

You sigh and rub your chin, “Yeah, he’s just been busy with remodeling. He’s still quite miffed that Reggie and I decided to move out.” 

“At least he has Potter with him.” Blaise supplies, eyes darkening in rumination at the mention of Regulus. He levels you with inquisitive eyes, “Before I forget, what should I send over?”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you hum, “How do you mean?” 

“Your house warming gift, daft one.” He rolls his eyes lightly. 

“Just bring your lovely self.” You huff out. 

Blaise crosses an ankle over his knee, “A vase then.” 

“If it clashes with the aesthetic then I’m tossing it into the basement.” You warn jokingly, smiling widely at your friend. 

He shakes his head with a muffled chuckle, “No worries. Anyways, you still need to unpack, right? Need any help?” 

“Oh? Work not keeping you busy enough?” You rest back against your chair, head bleeding with thoughts about how taxing work has been in the past few months with the Ministry trying to dial the reconstruction process to an inconceivable pace. 

Blaise groans at the reminder, taking a long sip of his drink, “Merlin, they should rename the whole Department! Department of International Magical Cooperation? What a joke, all they do is sit in an oval and squabble.” 

You throw your head back to laugh, a feathery light bubble of relief expanding in your chest. It was mind-boggling to think that not even a year ago you were all fighting for your lives, and now the same backdrop of fear that followed everyone around for so many years had disintegrated. People strided through halls and streets with lifted shoulders and bright eyes, war-hardened, but jovial as their burdens gave way. 

Blaise had worked his way up the Department of International Magical Cooperation, often leaving meetings with a sharp migraine and dwindling hope in the frequency of common sense. Theodore was faring well, now a highly revered Unspeakable for the Time Branch, all made possible with his swift denouncement of his father. Draco was the more withdrawn one out of the three, but you held out hope for him, having corresponded with him over his budding fascination for Alchemy. 

You found that your new friends were on your mind often, and you were endlessly grateful to them as they took Regulus’ reintegration into society with stride, often giving you advice on how to politely tell inquisitive reporters to bugger off. Meetings with them were slowly becoming a rarity as all of you became engrossed in work, but your friendships remained resolute as you all quickly became each other’s closest confidants. 

Luna wrote to you often, and you sent her trinkets and snacks by the dozen, finding yourself constantly worried that others would mistreat the girl with the absence of your friend group. Luckily, the girl found a friend in Ginny, and you were looking forward to reuniting with her during her Summer Break. 

Harry and Ron were inducted into the Auror ranks by Shacklebolt only a few weeks after the war. You had your reservations about their decision to jump into such a high-risk job, the stench of carnage and battle throbbing like an open wound, but they insisted that they would never be able to focus enough to finish school. 

On the opposite side of that sentiment, there was Hermione. She had quickly delved back into Hogwarts’ curriculum amidst its reconstruction, and was now looking to you with hopeful words about beginning her own sabbatical. 

You had published your research under both yours and Regulus’ name, omitting information about Regulus’ discovery of sentient portraits as a precaution for the future. 

You both respected Anders’ wish to leave his name off the cover and the research, but he failed to warn you against leaving his name anywhere else, so simply on the first page of your book, you dedicated the findings to him and Asger with a simple ‘For A. & A. Fiske.’ 

The research was groundbreaking, to say the least. You wouldn’t be able to forget the swaths of letters and documents from the Ministry, and one very heated missive to you from Blaise about how he was even more swamped with work, many foreign countries reaching out to inquire about the findings. 

It all paid off though, the royalties you and Regulus got would sustain you both for the rest of your humble lives, and the boost on your portfolio made getting a job in the Department of Mysteries a cakewalk. 

Once the sun rolled across the cloudless sky, the singing blues morphing to hues of pinks and purples, you bid your friend goodbye, wishing him luck with work and promising to gather with the rest of your friends the following week. 

You were certain that apparition was the most useful skill you had in your toolbelt, and you couldn’t fathom how you managed to survive the majority of your life without such a feat. As your shoes pad against the pavement, the bristling of leaves skidding around you, you let out a content sigh as you approach your destination. 

It was the closest thing you had to home for so long, and it still felt like safety and comfort despite the sudden heaviness of your own house keys in your pocket. As you pop the door open, head peeking around the heavy wood, your face lights up as a figure comes into view. 

“You’re home!” You exclaim excitedly, stepping inside with a wide grin. 

Harry approaches you and gives you a fleeting hug, hand raising to adjust his glasses as he pulls back, “Yeah, Tonks let me off early. How was your meeting with Blaise?”

“Good,” you draw out suspiciously, eyes narrowing as you both pace through the dim walkway, “how’d you know about that?”

“Regulus.” He answers simply, eyebrows raising in tease as you huff. 

You both cross into the threshold of the kitchen, stopping in your tracks as you see countless manuals splayed across the wide berth of the table. Regulus and Sirius are both hunched over in their seats, flipping furiously through the catalogues. 

“Some light reading, Sirius?” Your voice rings out playfully, body already moving towards your squinting boyfriend. Both men shoot up from their positions and blink owlishly at you and Harry, the sea of papers long forgotten. 

“Furniture shopping, pup!” Sirius replies with a tired grin as he stretches his arms over his head. 

Regulus rises from his chair and meets you halfway, arms wrapping securely around your body as he burrows his face into the crook of your neck. A few more moments pass by before he cranes back and blinks slowly at you, “Birdie.” 

You run a hand through his curls and smile lightly, “Love.” 

Regulus keeps you secure to him as he moves to drop back down into his seat, leaning his head against your stomach as you remain standing. Your eyes drop down to look at the varying bleak images on the shining white pages. 

Raising your eyebrows, your eyes drift around an image of a steep bookshelf with two glass doors, “Is this for us or Sirius?” 

Sirius leans back in his seat and rubs the bridge of his nose, “Your place. Reggie helped me pick out a few pieces earlier.” 

Your eyes wander around the aged cabinets and drabby wallpaper, trying to envision the space in a remodeled visual, one that would be Sirius-esque rather than screaming of cobwebs and medieval torture. You smile minutely before reaching a hand out across the table, bringing your other hand to card through Regulus’ hair as you mutter quietly to the tired man across from you, “I’m happy for you, Sirius.” 

The man reciprocates your smile and clasps his hand in yours, “Thank you, pup. I’m happy for you too,” he huffs and glances at Regulus, who remained immobile against your stomach, “the both of you.” 

The tender moment continues for a few more beats before Harry slowly leans on the seat next to Sirius’, eyes scrutinizing a forgotten pile of booklets off to the older man’s left, “Sirius, where are we going to put a lion table?” 

You snort out a muffled laugh as the man swivels over to his godson with beaming eyes, knowing that Harry would be whining to you later about Sirius’ ineptitude at interior decorating. 

“You should start cleaning up, Remus will be here soon for dinner.” You murmur with a pointed look at the trio. 

As the final outlines of the sun slinks away in the horizon, you and Regulus bid farewell to the occupants of Grimmauld Place, intent on spending the rest of the night in your home. It was fortunate that Regulus had managed to set up the floo network to your home only a matter of days before, and the journey back left little room for complaints as the green flames dragged away from your vision. 

You step out into the darkness of your study room, ears perking imperceptibly when the network flares again as Regulus joins you. The twilight sky filters into your home, dimly illuminating the barren room. 

“We’re home.” You mutter with a content smile. 

Regulus slowly pads towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he sways you both. Your eyes are drawn to the French casement windows behind the desk, getting lost in the sight of the dancing flower field. 

“Shall we head to the cliff, birdie?” Regulus muses, eyes following your gaze as he drifts into rumination. 

You nod and reluctantly step forward, pivoting on your heel and dropping a hand onto Regulus’ arm, “I’ll meet you at the front? I need to drop off a few things in the bedroom.” 

“Of course, baby.” He leans over to capture your lips in a soft kiss, hands dropping to your hips as he lightly grips onto you. 

Humming against his lips, you slowly pull back and rub a thumb across his cheek, “I’ll be quick, promise.” 

He pecks your lips again and gives you one last squeeze before he slowly backs away, shooting you a warm smile as he makes his way to the entryway. You retreat from the study room soon after, making a sharp right turn as you pace towards your shared bedroom. 

Regulus had been the one to bring up the idea of getting a beach house, assuring you that he was unsettled by still water and not turbulent waves. It was a quaint building, one that sprouted into the center of a lustrous flower garden, and you both knew it was the one when you toured it. Just a short walk away from the blooming fields, a precipitous cliffside broke away and loomed over a thick landing of sand, giving a small brief from the swaying waves 

As you enter the lusterless room, you shed away your bag and walk towards your bedside table, propping the Oregon postcard against your lamp. Atop the same white bedside table sat Regulus’ old golden frame, now whole and without trace of ever having been shattered. Under the frame, the folded piece of paper that Regulus had given you the night after you bought the property peeked out. 

You grasp both items in your hands, and smile lightly as an idea formulates in your head. 

“Kreacher!” You call lightly. 

The house-elf pops into the bedroom with a curious frown, teetering towards you as you extend the items out. You fish out your wand as Kreacher grabs the frame, muttering a faint engorgio at the rectangular object. The frame wobbles in the elf’s grasp before slowly stretching to nearly thrice its original size. 

“Could you possibly frame this note for me? Maybe above the headboard?” You request with a small smile. 

“Kreacher will do that.” The house elf nods and begins to fiddle with the frame. 

Your eyes run across the note one more time before you hand the slip to the elf, making your way out to Regulus with a fleeting farewell. The boy has a jacket slung over his arm as he waits for you by the door, carding his hair back as a flicker of joy flashes through his eyes when you appear in his line of sight. 

“All ready?” He murmurs once you reach him. 

“More than ready.” You reply with a hum, leaning to peck his cheek. 

The trek towards the cliffside passes by in the blink of an eye, and you’re left with butterflies in your stomach as Regulus picks several tulips for you along the way. By the time you’re close enough to the ocean to hear the crashing of waves, you are left to huddle close to Regulus for warmth. 

The sky begins to darken above you, but you give no protest when Regulus drags you to sit down on the ground. He peers up at the sky above him, eyes tracing across the faint twinkles of the approaching stars. 

You bring a hand to trace his chest as you do the same, cradling the flowers to your side as you begin to sift through the reel of memories in your head. 

“I love you, birdie.” Regulus whispers into the air, his arm moving to rest on your waist. 

You smile widely and press your face into the crook of his neck, “I love you.” 

And as you both laid under the stitches of glowing stars, sharing tiny whispers and shielding each other from the brutal winds, back in your home, Kreacher makes the last adjustments to the new wall decor. 

Kreacher mutely assesses the space as he backs out, the elf’s head full of future possibilities.

It was peaceful. After so many years, he felt at peace.

The door closes with a faint click just as the stars peek through the bedroom window, reflecting off the glowing frame. The swirls of inks encapsulated in the shining beams dance amongst the canvas of the wall. 

‘29 October, 1979

I wonder what being in love feels like. 

26 April, 1999

Love is like flying freely from the inhibitions of your burdens, where your person is your wings, your eyes, and your heart; you soar freely with the knowledge that they will carry you above the storms of doubt. I no longer wonder because now I know.’ 

Fin.

tag list: @krazyk99 @venomsvl @valsarchives @bunny24sstuff @novella12nite @elia-the-bibliophile @txorua @xlifexdeathx @trikigirl271 @the-marauders-world @sleepydang @blueberry-thrawn @lestat-whore @chanaaaannel @clockworkherondale @peachyaeger @thegayhoenextdoor @l--absinthe @ok-boke @summer-noir @mikeikax @musically-ambiguous @dittos-blog-dylanobrien @friendly-neighborhood-boricua @randomfaeriechild @misacc08 @that-bitch-bri @littleshadow17 @chocochannie @bl4stonesc @shari-berri @mrs-billyrussooo @pandemicboredom @gojosbucket @brain-has-left @googie-jeon @lovely-maryj @lokifriggason1 @aloramalfoy @godmitski @justanotherkpopstanlol @hpboysslut2707 @coffeehurricanes

[weekend-conspiracy-theorist]

I SWEAR TO GOD I KNOW THEY'RE KIDS BUT THEY'RE SO DUMB

[clavissionary-position]

I don't wish to throw anyone under the bus but I do wish to brag about hubby's endlessness

If Theo in canon has the largest dick. Who do we think has the smallest?

I want to say Arthur but then I remembered that Napoleon doesn't even have a dick

[yasbxxgie]

Theo Parrish & Gilles Peterson In Conversation (Brownswood Basement, 6/26/14)

Theo came through Brownswood Basement to have a short chat with Gilles in preparation of Worldwide Festival 2014 , share some memories and select a few of his all time favourites track's.

Skye - Ain't No Need Sandman & Riverside - Into Your Story feat Jeremy Ellis (Kai Alce Distinctive Vocal Mix) (Fast Forward) Eddie Harris - Turbulance (Atlantic) Theo Parrish - Footwork Race of Angels - Its Just Begun (Theo Parrish Rework) Budgie - The Only Power Dego - Unreleased [fmr]

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

what about some hurt/comfort puppy pile? 🥺

Hi anon! @kevaaronday found these for you!

A Touch of Torture by Artymys

(1/1 | 6,552 | Explicit | Sterek)

After an argument with the pack, Stiles leaves alone only to find himself in the torturous clutches of a one Gerard Argent.

In Your Hands by StarShineForMe (1/1 | 4,752 | Explicit | Sterek) Spit forms at the corners of Gerard’s mouth as he dips his head towards Stiles, the tendons in his neck standing out in anger. “You’d do well to end this now, boy. Give…me…the…Alpha!” Gerard glares at him with crazed eyes, glittering with rage.

Stiles purses his lips to hold in a sob, then takes a long, shuddering breath. “No,” he says, quiet but resolute. “I don’t care what you do to me. I’m never gonna give you Derek Hale.”

*Stiles' kidnapping and the aftermath- full of puppy Isaac, slow burn to explicit in love Sterek, and the makings of a ragtag pack family as they go

Bonds and Mends of Gold by Tahlruil (1/1 | 4,551 | Not Rated | Steter) '"He drowned whole cities in blood. I can feel it on my hands. Covered in blood and... and... one two three four five--" He hadn't seen Stiles this badly off since the beginning, and even then it hadn't been like this. But then Stiles had just taken a life, deliberately, almost certainly for the first time. There had been actual blood on his hands earlier in the day. Even if it had been his own, even though it hadn't been much, it had still been there. Stiles had been in control and present, but it could still intensify whatever the Nogitsune had left behind in his head. If those wires were getting crossed...'

Scars the Shape of Friendship by Tahlruil (1/1 | 3,285 | Mature) Maybe Scott had been right - maybe before that night, before the basement, they hadn't really been friends. That didn't matter though. Not after everything they'd watched each other go through. Now though? Now Erica and Boyd were his, and he'd finally gotten them back. There was no way he was letting them out of his sight so soon. Especially not with the goals of the Alpha Pack still a complete unknown. It was better to keep them close.

They were scar buddies, after all.

Before they got their shit together: Stiles is the smart one by Magnoliachild (1/1 | 3,187 | Gen | Pre Sterek) This is almost like a Coda to my first work in this series. Where Derek is still clueless about what he feels for Stiles. He is partially worried about being like Kate, but he is also oblivious to what Stiles is doing to prove that he wants Derek.

Dinner’s ready by RandomPerson351 (1/1 | 2,133 | Teen | Thiam) Liam maybe isn’t coping as well as he thought with being the newly designated Alpha of Beacon Hills after the war, Theo notices.

Vargsången by OhanaHoku (1/1 | 927 | Gen) Stiles sings a lullaby to his pack, and his pack comforts him after some sad memories.

[dat-town]

king of hearts

Characters: theo & female reader

Setting & genre: alice in borderland au

Summary: The King of Hearts was supposed to be the most wicked games of all.

Warnings: canon typical violence and gruesomeness, deadly games, blood, animal attack, mentions of injuries, minor character deaths, open ending

Words: 5k

Author’s note: this story is written for @restlessmaknae's (dis)harmony collab. you can check it out here, and you can still apply for a slot if you're interested!

i imagine theo in this one looking similar as he did in p1h: a new world begins.

i tried writing this so those who haven't seen alice in borderland or read the manga could somewhat understand it too. though the story contains spoilers for the second season (nothing major though since the original characters and the ending isn't mentioned). the king of hearts game wasn't in the manga and could only be seen in a short clip in the netflix show (for visual reference you can check out this video from 0:57, from 0:19 you can see another mentioned game), so i totally made it up based on that as well as some other games i added.

for those who haven't seen the second season or read the manga, i understand that the ending is extra confusing but you can interpret it the way you wish! on the other hand, for those who know the original story, please keep it in mind that this story is not on the same timeline as the manga/show, so the recurring games could be played differently or by different characters.

“Registrations have closed. The game will now commence,” the feminine robot voice announced.

The now familiar, haunting voice came from speakers that couldn't even be seen. You could only see the flash of red that drew the border of this game arena. This time you were in some kind of basement since you had to climb down a ladder. A ladder that had been pulled upwards, out of reach, once you set your feet on the ground and crossed the vibrating red light.

You looked around in the dimly lit space that felt all too tight for the ten or so people crowded there. The place smelled musty as if it hadn't been aired in a long time and there was some kind of weird smell too that you couldn't quite place but it reminded you of stuffy alleys behind the bad kind of bars. Everybody around you looked anxious, not knowing what to expect and eyed one another suspiciously. You knew that feeling well, in this place one could never really trust anybody. Or well, not just anybody.

The Borderlands were good at turning people against each other for survival.

“Difficulty level, King of Hearts,” the voice continued and a screen flickered on one of the walls of the entirely closed room. You gulped when you saw the card even though you knew what it was going to be. You had seen the huge blimp and the hanging card from it above before you had found the entrance where you had to leave your knife because the trapdoor to this place clearly stated ‘no weapons allowed in the game arena’.

“Game: Minotaur.”

You sucked in a breath, your mind jumping from idea to idea, wondering if the game would have anything to do with the myth of Ariadne who helped Theseus kill the Minatour and escape by a thread leading him out of the labyrinth. You wondered if it meant that there would be a monster somewhere inside. You shook your head at the absurdity of the thought because monsters weren't real and despite how unrealistic the Borderlands felt with its supernatural twists and power that seemed to come from above, people dying left and right, the control it had over lives… everything within the games were real and logical. There were no ghosts, monsters or demons, there were only people playing children's games at deadly costs. It would most probably be a wild animal if there was a ‘minotaur’ to begin with.

Suddenly you felt a warm, slightly rough hand grazing against yours, fingers slipping between yours and you felt more secure than before, your wild thoughts stopping because you knew who it was. You flashed a quick, nervous albeit genuine smile at Theo and squeezed his hand back before turning back to the screen. Having him by your side made every crazy game feel less daunting.

“Rules: escape the labyrinth before your visa runs out,” the instructor carried on and you gulped because you had only one day to live anyways if you didn't win any games that could have earned you as many days as their card value.

The thing about the Borderlands was that you had no choice but to play because if you didn't, if you didn't risk your life through these deadly games, your visa would run out and a laser would shoot you dead from the sky. So you would rather die playing a game, fighting for your life than die like that as if you had given up. Suddenly starving to death wasn’t your main concern because apparently if you didn’t manage to get out before the countdown on your device reached zero, you would die anyway.

“Clear condition: the King of Hearts cannot leave the labyrinth with you. Those who manage to escape without the King clear the game,” the voice said as the screen demonstrated the rules with an animation. Ah, so it was an individual effort kind of game. But it didn't sound deadly so far, and didn't prompt people to sacrifice each other just to save themselves. But it was a Hearts game, so you were sure there was a twist there. “There is no time limit. The game will continue until all players get eliminated or the King of Hearts is eliminated. The King can be eliminated either by getting killed or not being able to get out with any of the players.”

Ah, there it was.

“But who is the King?” Somebody mumbled, their confusion and anxiety clear from their scared tone. You had encountered the King of Spades before, a one man army creating a massacre out on the streets and you had played a rope scaling game against the Jack of Clubs before. These new games were always against the citizens in one way or another, so the King must have been there as well. 

“He is probably one of us,” Theo beside you said calmly and he was probably right. Your enemy was either the minotaur himself or somebody disguising himself as a player. You had heard the Jack of Hearts had done the same. Now that would have made it a Hearts card-worthy game, one in which people couldn't trust each other and would want to escape alone. At least, you knew you could trust Theo. You had been through too many games together not to.

“The game will now begin. Good luck!” The robotic voice said in an emotionless voice and the screen had gone black at the same time as four doors opened to equally dimly lit, long, narrow corridors in every direction. They looked the same, so nobody moved, unsure if there was a right or wrong way to go. What if you would die if you choose the unsafe path? What if there were other dangers along the way?

“It’s not a Diamonds game, so there’s probably no logic in which one we should choose,” one ragged looking middle-aged man said as he walked from one corridor’s entrance to another, checking them closely.

“Would there actually be the mythological minotaur?” A younger girl with a deep cut on her shoulder asked and you were glad that you weren’t the only one who knew that story.

“Shouldn’t we just kill it if there is?”

“That would be right for a Spades game but it’s the King of Hearts, there must be something else,” the man from before hummed and you could see the logic behind his words.

Each card represented a game within the Borderlands. The higher their number was, the more difficult the games were and once all pip cards were collected, the Second Stage started: the face cards. The even deadlier games against citizens of this godforsaken place. Each suit of cards required a different set of skills in their games: diamonds for intelligence, spades for physical capabilities, clubs for teamwork and hearts for psychological endurance. Hence the King of Hearts was supposed to be the most wicked game of all.

You remembered the first and so far only Hearts game you had played, it was Eight of Hearts, the Yakuza, a version of the infamous Mafia game in which a dealer was a criminal and the innocent residents had to find out who it was before they killed off everybody. With your eyes closed according to the game rules during at the end of every round, you had to hear five people die right beside you, flinching at the sound of their screams before their body fell to the ground with a thud and opening your eyes you could only see the blood that made you want to vomit. Since then you avoided Hearts games when you could but in the Second Stage you didn’t have much of a choice, not with only one day left on your visa.

Ideas were thrown back and forth, nobody really knowing what the game’s purpose was but you all knew that since it was the highest card in its suit, it must have been an especially difficult game to win. Was it maybe a huge, almost impossible maze? Would you starve to death if it wasn’t for your visa deadline? Not even Theo’s closeness could stop you from spiraling as you listened to the others’ theories.

“Fuck it, you indecisive idiots. We will all die if we just stay here,” a hooded guy stood up and walked to one of the corridors confidently. The moment he crossed the threshold, something roared in the distance. Something that sounded like a bull and eyeing the darkness where the sound came from suddenly nobody was keen on staying. Everybody started running in the opposite direction.

Theo still held your hand as you followed the group of people into the maze. The narrow roads gave you a feeling of claustrophobia and you had difficulty controlling your breathing as you went on. Seven or six turns later and kilometers in your feet you had lost count of how far you were from the center. You thought the farther you were, the more safe you would be but it was a naive thought. The woman from the front screamed and everybody froze, barely daring to pant, craning their necks to see what scared her. You let out a quiet sigh of relief when you saw that there was a full-size mirror in the next corner of the maze and the woman probably confused her own reflection with something else. You had almost suggested going forward when you saw something move in the mirror, something that wasn’t either of you.

“Don’t!” You yelled at the man who was on the front but he didn’t listen to you and the moment he turned the corner, an animalistic growl was followed by a painful scream and the man was trampled upon. The last thing you saw was the man’s nails digging into the ground before his blood painted the walls red.

The woman on the front screamed again as you turned 180° on your heels and started running backwards. You totally lost your sense of place and time by the time you got back to the central room, you had no idea if there was a good decision to begin with. The remaining group turned down one of the two other corridors where you hadn’t set your foot previously but before you could have followed them, Theo gently pulled you back.

“Let’s split up from them,” he suggested and after a quick consideration, you nodded. In a Hearts game it was better to be by the side of somebody you trusted. The King could have been one of them, trying to escape the labyrinth with you. Or who knew when he was going to start killing the players off one by one? Would he have tried to turn the people against each other? Trying to turn them into sacrificial lambs?

Just then you noticed that on the screen where previously the rules had been displayed, you saw the statistics about the game: the time played so far (47 minutes), players eliminated (1), players escaped (0) and remaining players (8). You gulped and turned towards the entrances instead.

There were two corridors you could choose from if you didn't want to go in the same direction as others nor go back where you had just been. The one where the roar had come from or another. You wondered if maybe the roar was a test itself and you should have chosen it in order to survive but Theo pulled you towards the other entrance and you let him. You were still panting a bit from the earlier run, sweat beads on your forehead, the reality of the deadliness finally settling in your bones. Most of the time it was easier to pretend that it was just a long, long nightmare.

This corridor smelled like decay, like old libraries without books. When the path separated into two, you kept choosing the right one for easier remembering and when you ended up at a dead end, you went back to the last decision point to change that choice. Whenever you heard muffled noises or screams you pretended not to hear them.

“How long does this go on?” You asked after running into another thick brick wall and you started getting tired.

“Maybe that’s why it’s a psychological game, because we will go crazy before we get out," Theo sighed and unclipped the flask of water on his belt, taking a small swig. He sat on the ground and started drawing in the layer of dust. You leaned over it, recognizing the lines of the maze soon enough to help him remember the road you had taken through the first entrance. It didn't help much but mapping out the turns and the dead end corridors made it certain that it was a rectangular labyrinth. You even took a calculated guess of its size and how many path options it could have based on what you had seen so far.

"We have been here for about two hours and mapped out a quarter and about a half. If it wasn't for that animal, it wouldn't be impossible to go through the whole thing in a decent amount of time," you said, glancing down at your watch, wondering why this game didn't have a time limit if it was a solvable riddle. "Do you think the minotaur guards the exit? That's why we couldn't bring weapons?"

"Maybe. Or to not kill the King of Hearts so easily," Theo hummed, furrowing his eyebrows as he watched the makeshift map. You thought about and wondered how long it would have taken for people to start killing each other, fearing that the other might be the King. The Witch Hunt game had dozens killed by another player due to distrust.

“They must have named the game Minatour on purpose. What if getting out has something to do with Ariadne's thread?” You asked out loud, still wondering about it, searching for the game's meaning.

“Probably. I doubt we would find our way out by pure luck," the boy agreed. "No wonder the game has no time limit, it might be that we could run around forever if it wasn't for our visa or that animal. Maybe the exit is hidden or changes over time, maybe we're supposed to believe that we won't be able to get out of here."

Every game could be won, even in the Borderlands, you had learned, even the ones that seemed impossible. There must have been a solution. But it was unlikely that you would find your answers just like that, so you decided to explore the path from where you had first heard the roar.

You walked in silence but you were glad that Theo was right beside you. Without him, you would have long gone crazy in this inhuman world. You could share your small joys (finding your favorite candy in a rundown grocery store), your sorrows (crying over seeing a child die in front of you) and your silences with him. You found solace in his closeness and hummed lullabies to him when he couldn't sleep near your clumsily made campfire. You didn't talk much about your lives before the Borderlands but sometimes you felt like you had known him your whole life.

Theo hissed at a sudden halt when he almost walked into a wall and you bumped into his back, fingers curling into the material of his hoodie.

"Are you okay?" You asked, worried, but the guy just shrugged.

"Yeah, just my injury."

"Let's sit down a bit… No, don't tell me we can't," you interrupted Theo's upcoming protest firmly. You had already been walking for another hour since your last stop and even though you hadn't run into neither the other players nor the minotaur, your anxiety levels were high. Not higher than your worry for Theo though, so you encouraged him to pull up his tee and examined his bullet wound, hoping it didn't get worse.

Even though you both had gained 11 days on your visa from the Jack of Clubs game, Theo got injured as you were running away from the King of Spades, one of his shots catching him, so you had to sit out some days to patch him back up. There was no way you would have let him participate in any games in that kind of vulnerable condition, even if that endangered your own visa validity. You had pulled out the bullet from his flesh – at least your nurse education had come in handy then – and stayed with him even when he had been feverish from the wound and when he had been out for days.

"I really wish we knew each other in real life. I never had anybody take care of me like this," he had said one night, still delirious.

'Real life', he had called it and really, you had no better way to describe it. The Borderlands felt like it was a tangible alternative reality but who had the right to tell which one was the real one? What if both of them were? Nevertheless, the Borderlands had its own set of rules and even though nobody could be sure what would happen when all the games had been played, since the Second Stage started when all 40 non-face cards were collected, it wasn't too abstract to believe that something would happen when the rest of the card set would follow. You could only hope it would be the end, being able to go back where you came from and not a Third Stage since there were no more cards left. But you hadn't wanted to get philosophical with the barely conscious Theo, instead you had told him that you wished that, too. That he deserved somebody who cared for him.

That night he had also told you that he admired you because you were so kind and kindness in a cruel world like this was a special strength. He had seen you try to help an older lady in that game of Boiling Death even though the elder hadn't stood a chance and that had been when he decided to pull you out of that crumbling ceiling's way. That had been how you had first met, sweaty and scared, him feeling like a safe haven in that chaos. When you had stood outside of the arena, watching it crumble down, the boy had turned his back to you, leaving and maybe it was the first time since you had gotten to the Borderlands that somebody saved you without expecting anything in return, you couldn't let him just walk away like that. You had followed him, thanked him, asked for his name, offered him your hideout if he hadn't had any. Looking back, you might have sounded desperate but you couldn't help it, you had been lonely and scared alone despite surviving games on your own before. You just wanted a friend, an ally, anything.

Theo closed his eyes briefly as if he had just recalled the uncomfortable crawl you had done through the ruins of the stadium in order to get up. Both of you had been full of scratches and bruises by the time you got out but you were still alive. You were going to survive this as well, you told yourself as you brushed his sweaty brown locks out of his forehead gently.

"If we get out–" The boy spoke up again, his voice weak and hoarse.

"When," you corrected him stubbornly.

"When we get out, I hope I will remember you," he then whispered, not arguing, and fell asleep into a fever dream.

You hoped so too, so when you finally managed to convince Theo that you could take a break, you didn't expect the boy to bring up such a topic as he pulled the hem of his tee down.

"If that animal or the King will be with us when we find the exit, you have to get out first and clear the game. You only have one day, I still have a few more," he looked you in the eye, his gaze unwavering as if he had been thinking about it as soon as it became clear that it wasn't that easy to escape from this maze.

"Exactly! You joined this game just because of me. I won't leave you behind!" You protested with wild head movements. There was no way you would leave alone.

"I will be right behind you, I promise, but you have to go first, okay? It's unlikely but please, promise me," Theo pleaded and he sounded so desperate as if his peace depended solely on your promise but you… you just couldn't. Even though what he said was reasonable, he had more time to get out and he was better at these kinds of games but still, he was injured and selfishly, you didn't want to lose him.

The thing was that he kept saving you, even during your first game together when you had been confused and lost, he had saved you and had put up with you even though you were sure that you had been a deadweight and nuisance back then. It was the Seven of Spades, the Boiling Death, in which a hot geyser erupted beneath the baseball stadium you were in and you had to escape before the building would have collapsed or the water burnt you. Ironic that you were once again, running for your lives.

Something made a noise and you looked up, alarmed. Your eyes met Theo's and saw the same anxiety in them that you felt. You looked left and right, knowing that one was a dead end where you came from and the monster was coming from the other one based on the noises. You gulped, feeling stuck and your heart was pounding from fear. You had been close to death many times since you had been in the Borderlands but it was always the promise of fast death. A collar around the neck that would blow up, a killer laser that would go through your body to halve you, falling into terrible depths… you never imagined it happening by an animal tearing you apart, a slow, painful death.

You wondered if it was better to hide by the dead end, hoping that the animal would turn around or go against it, bravely, despite knowing by the lessening numbers of players that you had a low chance without any weapons in a place like this. You wanted to grab Theo’s hand to tell him that you were ready to be brave, that you didn’t want to die like a coward, that you would have at least given it a try before giving up. But the boy didn’t look at you or towards the source of the noise, he looked up.

“Are you thinking…” You muttered, understanding his idea. If there was no way right or left, no way out, you could still go up. It had a ceiling above the high and narrow enough walls, so you couldn’t escape but could get out of the reach of this animal.

“We have to try,” Theo said and you didn’t waste time. The walls had nothing to hang on or climb up on but since they were close, you could push yourself up with your back on one wall and legs stretched towards the other. It wasn’t an easy task because the wall was dry, your feet slipped on it, so you had to be careful and slow while the approaching growling only made you more nervous. But you made it, you were high up, high enough to touch the ceiling, more than two meters above the ground when the bull showed up. Its horns were bloody and it looked feral, hungry for more. Trembling, you kept yourself up, unmoving and silent until the wild animal turned the corner, disappearing after the view. Only when you turned your head to look at Theo by your side, planning to ask about running the other way, you froze up because of a different reason.

"Theo… I think there's something on the lamp," you pointed out, seeing the interesting pattern on the side of the lamp between the two of you. The entire maze was dimly lit due to these bars of lamps high above. Now, that you leaned closer, twisting your body as much as you could without risking falling down. From this close, you could clearly see the line of gilded material forming a clear symbol. Your eyes gleamed. "It's an arrow!"

So this was it, the solution to this maze. Right above your head, right in the light.

"Oh, is it our Ariadne's thread?" Theo whispered back before he encouraged you to get down.

Once your feet hit the ground, the two of you ran in the direction the arrow pointed at. It was luckily the opposite of where the bull went but knowing that the path there ended at a dead end, you knew the animal would turn back around sooner or later. You stopped at the next junction and climbed up on the wall to check the lamp to confirm your theory and indeed there it was: the arrow clearly showing you which way to choose. Relieved, you followed its advice until it led you back to the center with the screen displaying the time played so far (4 hours 12 minutes), the number of players eliminated (6), players escaped (0) and remaining players (3).

Damn, only one player was left other than you. One player and the King of Hearts. You could only hope you wouldn't run into the latter on your way out. Would he guard the way out, would he know where that was or was he just as trapped as you are, not being able to leave by himself and that's why the rules stated leaving without the King?

Following the arrows on the lamps eventually led you from unwalked paths to a familiar one or maybe you couldn't tell them apart because they were all the same except for the dead bodies and blood on the floor and walls at some parts. You had to look away from the grotesque sight but it haunted you: the agony on the morbidly frozen faces.

Theo called your name, reaching for your hand, pulling you forward but you stumbled into his back when you saw a wheezing man at the next corner, still alive but injured, holding his bloody side with a hand as he leaned against the wall.

"It's the guy with the mustache. He's the King of Hearts," the man in his sixties rasped out, forcing himself to take a step. You didn't think, you rushed to his good side to help him keep his balance.

"We know where to go, we will get you out, too," you said and flashed a reassuring smile at the struggling man.

Theo, distrustful as always, looked at the man warily but didn't say anything. He stepped to the other side of the man and the two of you helped him along. It was slower like this but eventually you reached the end where the arrows led you.

"That's it?" The old man asked, seeing the dead end, and you turned to Theo as well when he just came down from the last lamp in the row with a grim look on his face. Something was not okay.

"Yeah, that's it," the boy sighed but you knew him well enough to suspect that there was something he wasn't telling you. It was in the crease on his forehead, in the furrow of his brows, it was in the way he looked at you knowingly, warningly.

"Do you want to check it?" He asked you and you knew he wouldn't have asked in this situation if he didn't want you to, so you nodded, a bit dazed and uncertain, letting go of the injured man to climb up yourself. Your shoulders and back ached already but you concentrated on the task and gulped when you saw the familiar symbol of circular arrow on the panel.

"Should I–" You looked down on Theo but before you could have finished the sentence, you heard the bull's approach.

"Hurry!" Theo yelled and you didn't waste any more time before pushing down on one side of the horizontal lamp’s panel until it turned 90° to a vertical direction. You landed on the ground the exact same moment as the wall that closed the road off moved, opening a door. The exit.

Relief rushed through your body so close to winning the game but then you saw the lamp panel slowly turning back into its original position which closed your way out inch by inch too. You looked back on the boy behind you but he pushed you ahead forcefully, to the other side of the wall as well as the almost invisible red line, out to safety, and that was when you realized what he was about to do. Too late.

"Theo, no!" You yelled but the last thing you saw from the boy was his turned back, trying to keep the old man back from following you.

That was when you understood it, Theo's doubts, why he acted so alarmed: there were only three players left and the King was one of them. You couldn't leave with him or else you lost, and damn if your good heart didn't trust the old man then you wouldn't have been there: on one side of the closing wall, pounding on the brick material, yelling Theo's name like a maniac, screaming, crying when you heard a painful yell.

Theo had said kindness in this cruel world was a strength but no, kindness was danger, kindness was a dagger to a heart, kindness was an 'at least one of us should live' when all you wanted to be was to be together.

"Game cleared. Congratulations," the robotic voice said cheerfully and you slid down the wall, watching the burning blimp fall down from the sky, the King of Hearts card falling to pieces, with tears streaming down your face.

When the fireworks started, you thought somebody was calling your name and then, you woke up.