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#'make the mad hatter upset' indeed!
riddle-me-ri · 9 months
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Alice type reader and march hare type readers are all well and good but I'd love to see a general (or Gotham, Arkham, btas) Jervis x queen of hearts type reader!!
a/n: asdfg yes, yes, yes I’m so here for this! Will likely do a dormouse reader in another post in the future especially if there's a mighty need from others lol. I couldn’t really come up with an idea for a drabble, so I decided to just go with headcanons and to just go ahead do all the Mad Hatters hehe Hope you enjoy anon!
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The Mad Hatters with a Queen of Hearts-Type Reader
Arkhamverse Mad Hatter:
- Jervis admires you. 
- He has to get respect and attention the hard way, it’s fun, but far more difficult than it has to be. 
- Not you though, you walk into a room and everyone shakes in their boots. 
- They know not to mess with you, to respect you (and Jervis doesn’t have to threaten them).
- Jervis especially appreciates how protective you are of him. 
- The only person that gets to see your softer sweet side is him. 
- And boy, does it make him feel incredibly special. 
- You're his queen of hearts and he's your mad hatter king (it's all nonsense anyway)
BTAS Mad Hatter:
- Jervis is slightly intimidated. 
- He prays for the poor souls that ever have to come face to face with your wrath.
- But he does manage to charm you and you allure him. 
- You will be a very powerful ally to have and vice versa. 
- Soon you two are unstoppable. 
- Jervis appreciates your loyalty and your tenacity. 
- He has never met anyone so fierce and determined.
- He is forever grateful to have you by his side. 
TNBA Mad Hatter:
- Much like his BTAS counterpart, he’s intimidated. 
- Unsure what to make of such a strong minded individual.
- He is mesmerized by you however.
- Jervis is used to being behind the scenes…quite comfortable with it until the end.
- But seeing you command a room and take charge…it's captivating to the scientist. 
- He's pleasantly surprised when he finds how fond you are of him.
- Jervis still gets nervous when you yell or scream.
- But he does take pride in knowing he is one of the few to calm you down.
Gotham Mad Hatter:
- Jervis is enamored with you. 
- Your fire, your rage, your destruction…
- It's something he's always felt but to see it in someone else…
- It's incredible, it makes his heart race. 
- You two will paint the town red. 
- Gotham will fall to its knees for you two.
- And no one would stand in your way.
- Yes, off with their heads, indeed!
Harley Quinn: TAS Mad Hatter:
- Jervis will pretend he's not impressed with you.
- But in reality he's actually shaking like a leaf. 
- However, you do amaze him with just how violent you are.
- Jervis enjoys watching you fight to protect him and your plans.
- It makes him chuckle with glee to see you take down multiple adversaries. 
- He has no problem helping you clean blood off your pretty face. 
- Jervis relishes in the fact you've only got a soft spot for him.
- You two are a force to be reckoned with.
Joker’s Asylum Mad Hatter:
- Jervis is mortified at first. 
- The Queen of Hearts is a blind fury. 
- He already experiences enough anger and aggression in his life. 
- Surely he wants no more of it. 
- He also admires your strength and tenacity.
- He’s perplexed when he sees you aim your fury towards those that wronged him.
- You protect him? Y-You care about him?
- Perhaps your fury isn’t all that blind after all.
Secret Six Mad Hatter: 
- I just have an inkling he gets a rise out of seeing you get angry. 
- Jervis loves to see how red your face can get, how loud you can scream…
- And yes, he’s still referring to when you're angry. 
- He enjoys it because he knows that he can quickly simmer your temper. 
- Or better yet, you’ll punish him later for making you get upset. 
- Either way leaves Jervis snickering to himself 
- You can be short and cruel, it's true. 
- But Jervis can see the passion and that will always captivate him back to you.
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selinascatnip · 1 year
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Pearls for Dickkory and lace for batcat
Already did the Pearls in the last post!
So...
Lace - Trying to make a long time fantasy come true. 
“Selina?” he turned the light on. “What are you doing in my garage?” He was trying to work upstairs when he caught a glimpse of her alluring silhouette on the CCTV. Curious since no car had left the Wayne Estate, and she usually paid him a visit before taking one of his belongings without asking. After a while, she showed no sign of going away, nor coming upstairs. She was moving normally when he saw her on the CCTV, but maybe there was something wrong? 
Heart racing, he raced downstair. 
The car Alfred gave him for his birthday bleeped as the door unlocked, Bruce didn’t lose time, what if she was hurt, what if he didn’t pay attention and she had crawled into his car and was so weak that all she could do to get his attention was pressing a button, what if- 
She was sitting on the passenger's sit, her legs stretched upwards and resting on the dashboard, a bored expression on her face. Not a wound or sign of anything wrong that he could see. 
“Finally, it just took you forever.” 
He opened the door and sat down on the driver’s sit. 
“What is wrong?” 
Selina rose a pretty eyebrow. 
“Why do you think there’s something wrong?” 
“Well-” 
She didn’t wait for an answer, pulling him by the flap of his turtleneck kissing him out of the blue. 
Granted, it wasn’t their first kiss, not even in that week, but still... He did understand that considering that the medium Gothamite was mad a hatter (not confound with The Mad Hatter, not all Gothamites were that mad or that evil), and their social circle tended to deviate to the side of the curve that lead to the Arkham Asylum... His... Selina could try to make sense sometimes, maybe it would help them to fight less, or at least maybe would help him to feel that he was about to have a heart attack in the ripe old age of 28 less often.  
They should talk about that. 
That and if she was his girlfriend now they were sleeping together, but he’d bet his entire inheritance that such conversation would cause a fight and maybe a real heart attack. 
So maybe not. 
He tried to pull her to his lap, but she pulled away and tried to drag him down with her with one hand while the other fumbled around her own sit. 
“’Lina, what you’re doing?” 
“How do I get this thing to go lower?” 
“Let me,” She smiled pleased and laced her arms around his neck, forcing him to lean against her face as her backrest slid down until it hit the back sit. 
“Oh,” she pouted, “you are too big now.” 
Indeed, if she expected him to fit over her, the laws of physics had something so say against it. 
“Why did you get so damn big?!” 
She hit his shoulder angrily and Bruce returned to his sit, his back cracking with relief. 
“Are you really mad about it? I thought you liked how big I got,” she usually praised him about it when he was using his new advantageous size to pin her down and fuck her against a rooftop, or pull her up and fuck her against the shelves of his library, or... Well, she liked it, mostly, it seems. 
“But you don’t fit.” 
“We could go upstairs...” 
“Don’t wanna go upstairs, tsc,” she was really upset. Bruce frowned. 
“Selina...” 
She sighed. 
“Do you remember that day, just after you got this stupid car, not long before you dropped the Billionaire Brat bullshit?” 
“Yes, I do recall, but I don’t unders-” 
“You never understand, Bruce.” 
“You can try explain.” 
“I’m trying! It’s just...” 
She blushed. 
Well, that wasn’t a sight one see everyday. Bruce bit his lips so she wouldn’t see him holding a smile and flee, and this time, when he tried to pull her to his lap, she complied. 
Bruce kissed her forehead, and her nose, and her lips, his hands gently kneading her backside. 
“Hey, you know you can tell me anything...” 
She scoffed. 
“It’s silly, you will laugh.” 
“I’d never laugh of you.” 
She leaned forward and giggle against his chest. 
“Too bad, I love laughing of you.” 
He snorted and took one hand to her hair, it was so long now. 
“Oh, I know.” 
“You didn’t kiss me.” 
“Love, I just did,” and he pointed that out by kissing her again, pulling her pouty bottom lip with his teeth before releasing her again. 
“No,” she whined, playing with the curls falling on his forehead, “before, when we were kids. I thought you were about to kiss me, but you didn’t.” 
“Hummm” he made, “I wanted to kiss you. Selina,” Bruce said honestly, “always, you know I have been crazy about you since forever.” 
She rose her gaze to his. 
“Why didn’t you kiss me, then?” 
“Because I had just got you to speak me again,” he bopped her nose and then kept his finger going down her throat, the valley of her breasts, his whole hand skimming under the fabric and cupping one of her mounds, bringing it out and watching in marvel as her dusty pink nibble perked, “and I didn’t want to make you mad or start a fight...” 
“Coward,” she whispered rocking slowly and thrusting her chest to his face, begging without words for him to touch her. 
Bruce looked at her through his eyelashes, his mouth just a few inches from her nipple. 
“What?” 
She giggled again, but her mirth turned into a moan as he buried his face on her chest, breathing her in and sucking the skin of the base of her breast. 
“So,” he blew at the forming hickey to sooth the abused skin, “this is all about that time?” 
“Kind of...” She breathed, and took his hand to her still covered breast, urging him to give it equal treatment. 
“Kind of?” he insisted to her clear annoyance. 
“Yes, it is about that time, I have been fantasying about you ravaging me on that sit since we were ridiculous teens, satisfied?” 
He smiled and rocked upwards against her making her curse under her breath. 
“Both of us are about to be.” 
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twistedtummies2 · 3 years
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Top 12 Pandora Hearts Characters
Moriarty the Patriot may be my new favorite anime and manga series, but today, I feel like talking about my OTHER favorite manga (and what COULD have been my favorite anime, if it had only gone on longer): a little franchise known as Pandora Hearts. Japan has a huge following for the works of Lewis Carroll, but Pandora Hearts has probably the most unusual manner of reinterpreting the characters. The story of PH is set in a world where human beings coexist with monstrous entities known as Chains: demon-like beings who are all directly inspired, in terms of name and design, on characters from Wonderland. With a few exceptions, the characters themselves do not have the names of characters from the books; instead, it is the Chains they make bargains with, form “Contracts” with, that tell you what character from the stories they are meant to represent. It’s a cool idea, and whether you look at this franchise as a new take on Wonderland, or just look at the characters on their own terms separate from the books, they are all fun and engaging characters who are frequently much more complex than they at first seem. Now, Pandora Hearts is a series with a lot of twists and turns, so I’m going to try and keep this as spoiler-free as possible when it comes to some of the REALLY big twists, but there’s only so much I can do. So if you haven’t read the manga, or at least watched the anime, and don’t want things spoiled, just be wary in case something pops up here you weren’t wanting to know ahead of time. Also, because this is me writing this list, I will give away which characters from the Wonderland stories these characters are analogous with in their descriptions. With that said... “The time has come,” the Walrus says, “To honor them today! So here’s a list of my favorites to lighten up your day!” (pauses) Yes, I’m aware that rhyme was terrible, just run with it. These are My Top 12 Favorite Pandora Hearts Characters!
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12. Echo & Noise.
Wonderland Analogues: Tweedledee & Tweedledum.
One thing you need to know about Pandora Hearts is that...honestly, like a lot of anime/manga, in my opinion...it can be rather confusing at times. The lore of this world, partially because it takes so many twists and turns all over the place, is a little hard to follow at times. I’ll try be succinct and as major-spoiler-free as possible, as I said before. With that said, these two are a prime example of how things get twisted up. Echo and Noise are essentially a classic Jekyll-&-Hyde scenario; a pair of separate identities occupying the same body. Noise, also called “Zwei,” is the original personality: a member of the mysterious and dangerous Baskerville Clan, she is, as her name suggest, loudmouthed, crazy, and rather all over the place. Noise is in control of a Chain known as “Duldee,” and the Chain is responsible for the creation of the other personality: Echo. Echo is the exact opposite of Noise: she is quiet, constantly polite, and indeed often seems to be little more than a robot, very emotionless and unnervingly calm, even in the heat of battle. As Echo, she is the unsettlingly loyal servant of one of the series’ chief antagonists, Vincent Nightray, and their relationship is...a little creepy. Vincent frequently treats her like a beloved child or pet, but he also frequently uses her for his own selfish ends, never worrying about nearly killing her in order to get what he wants, and seeming to see her more as an object than another living being. Despite this, the most upset with him Echo ever gets is calling him “annoying” (now, THERE’S an understatement), and Noise herself is absolutely obsessed with him. Their twisted relationship with Vincent, and all the fun that’s had with these two different personalities, is a big part of what gets them a slot on the list.
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11. Oscar Vessalius.
Wonderland Analogue: N/A
While most of the characters in Pandora Hearts are easily identified by their Chains, some don’t even have Chains, and thus cannot be readily identified as any character from the Carroll classics. Oscar Vessalius, whom I frequently and affectionately refer to as “Uncle Oscar,” is one of those cases. Now, to be fair, Uncle Oscar is not the most complex character in this series, but he IS one of the most endearing. Oscar is the paternal uncle of our main protagonist, Oz, and considering Oz’s father is...well...a gigantic douchebag of the highest order...Oscar really is more of a father to Oz than anybody else in the series. Oscar is unflappably encouraging and jolly, and extremely protective and caring when it comes to his family. He’s always there to support Oz and his friends, tries his best to get along with everybody, and generally speaking brightens up every single scene he has. Despite this, Oscar does have a bit of a sly and sneaky side to him, as well as a slightly lecherous leaning in some cases, which keep him from being too perfect or one-note a character. While he has no direct ties to Wonderland, some have suggested that he MIGHT be inspired by Lewis Carroll himself, and there are a few subtle things that could suggest that...but either way, he’s ultimately a purely original character, and of those ranks, he’s easily one of the best.
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10. Reim Lunettes.
Wonderland Analogue: March Hare.
Reim, sometimes called “Liam,” is the best friend of Xerxes Break and one of the most notable members of Pandora: a not-so-secret organization dedicated to the study of Chains and the protection of the world. Sort of a Victorian-styled Men in Black, if you will. (pauses) The Will Smith Men in Black, I should say. ANYWAY, an interesting thing I’ve noticed with many interpretations of the March Hare in Japanese culture is they tend to make him a somewhat more serious and more easily flustered character than the Mad Hatter. Reim is no exception: he’s a panicky workaholic who is frequently the butt of other people’s jokes, and tries to treat things with a no-nonsense demeanor, taking his job extremely seriously and always worried about what’s best for his employers. In some ways, one could argue he acts more like the White Rabbit, but that character is one we’ll get to later. At any rate, while Reim is constantly obsessed with his work, and frequently frustrated by Break’s antics, as well as the shenanigans of other characters, he has a heart of gold and is always there to try and help his friends and colleagues when they most require assistance. His Chain also has a pretty impressive power that one does not expect...but I mustn’t say more, or I’ll spoil something important.
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9. Sharon Rainsworth.
Wonderland Analogue: Unicorn.
Another character with close ties to Xerxes Break, Sharon is an interestingly dichotomous character. She’s one of the first people we encounter in this series, and she plays a big part in the story as it unfolds...but in the early parts of the franchise, what’s interesting is that Sharon stays largely in the background. Now, at first, it seems this is because she’s one of the head members of Pandora, and Break is technically her servant; so it makes sense the others would interact more with Break than Sharon. But as time goes on, and we learn more about Sharon, we find that’s not so much the case. Sharon and Break have a brother-and-sister relationship, with Sharon seeing Break as her surrogate big brother, and Break seeing her as his little sister. The problem with this relationship is that Break will do anything to protect Sharon, and at times that can go a bit too far, as Sharon truly wants to be of use to him and prove she’s just as powerful as he is or any other major member of the team. Indeed, her Chain, Equus the Black Unicorn, has many impressive abilities, including being able to open a gateway between Earth and the Hell-like dimension of The Abyss. A lot of this dichotomy is visible in Sharon’s personality: most of the time she’s very demure, polite, sweet, and ladylike. But the more we see of Sharon, the more we become aware of other facets to her personality. She’s shown to have a tough and domineering side to her character, and has some eccentricities of her own. Most notably, she’s absolutely INSANE when it comes to romance stories and romantic situations, and holds both the standards of ladies and gentlemen in high regard. Whether she’s a soothing presence or a downright scary one, Sharon is always an interesting character to return to.
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8. Rufus Barma.
Wonderland Analogue: Dodo.
There are a few characters in the frequently twisted-up world of Pandora Hearts who have a habit of constantly keeping you guessing...but the king of mystery, without a shadow of a doubt, is the Duke Rufus Barma. His analogous Chain, Dodo, is able to conjure impressive illusions, and this illusionary skill is only the tip of the iceberg in showing how this man constantly manages to make you wonder just what is going on in his head. Barma lives by the code of “knowledge is power,” and constantly seeks to learn everything he can about...well...anything and anybody he wants. Money and prestige are secondary to him. He’s very soft-spoken and cold, even when angered, and carries himself with a sense of grace that’s rather flamboyant, but somehow not exactly loud or over-the-top in the way some of the other characters can be. His exact goals and motivations are constantly second-guessed, and you’re never really sure what makes him tick or what side he’ll take. You’re never really sure if he’s a villain or a hero. I love characters like this, in general, so it’s ultimately no surprise that Rufus Barma gets a solid spot on this list.
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7. The Will of the Abyss.
Wonderland Analogue: White Rabbit.
The Will of the Abyss (sometimes called “Alyss” and sometimes called “The Intention of the Abyss”) isn’t a villain we see a whole lot of. She is the queen of the Abyss; the ruler of everything there. The Abyss, itself, is the home of the demon-like chains: ghoulish entities who feed on human beings, body and soul, and are formed from those who have fallen into the Abyss in the past. The place is described as “a broken toy box” and is a horrifying limbo realm of killer dolls and psychotic puppets. Needless to say, it’s not exactly an ideal vacation spot. The Will is a mysterious and mercurial character; she’s mostly a peripheral villain, since we see more of the Chains she controls than her, herself, and much of what we DO see of her actually comes through flashbacks...but in that overall brief amount of time, she proves to be honestly the single scariest character in the series, as well as one of the saddest. Part of this is due to her mood: the Will can shift from seemingly innocent and playful to screaming like a banshee in a split-second; she can go from crying and sobbing like a sad little girl to being as refined and elegant as a proper queen. And there really isn’t a safe place with her, in any of this, either; sometimes that playful and sweet persona is a good thing, but other times...yeah, it’s...um...REALLY not. Like many Chains, she’s violent and bloodthirsty, but unlike other Chains, there’s some humanity to her and you get the feeling that a lot of her actions are justified. She’s still very much a villain, but she’s also a victim, in a way, and as the story goes on, you feel bad for her and are truly sorry when her part in the series’ events is finished. Whether she makes you whimper with terror or makes you want to hug her and console her, the Will of the Abyss is bound to get a major reaction from you.
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6. Vincent Nightray.
Wonderland Analogue: Dormouse.
One of the main antagonists of the series (though not, for the record, THE main antagonist...they actually don’t appear in this top twelve), Vincent Nightray is another character who changes throughout the series. What I find most interesting about Vincent is that he, himself, changes very little. It’s more the attitude the reader has to him, in the manga, that changes. See, if you only know Vincent from the anime, or the chapters in the manga that the anime covers, chances are you find him to be a pretty repugnant person. He’s creepy, he’s treacherous, he’s responsible for some of the most screwed-up things any character in this franchise does, and that’s saying a lot. He’s totally insane, and sort of seems to be aware of it, and seems to have an unhealthy interest in his own brother, Gilbert. In fact, with how disturbing he is, and the kinds of things he tries, you start off thinking he’s the main antagonist...and, for a while, he pretty much is. However, as the series continues in the manga, and you learn more about Vincent - why he is the way he is, and what exactly he wants to accomplish - the more you come to understand him and sympathize with him. Make no mistake, Vincent is a villain; in fact, even he seems to be aware of the fact that he’s sort of a monster. But he’s the kind of villain you come to feel sorry for and realize that, if things had been different, maybe could have turned out a much better person. In a way, Vincent is a foil to the ACTUAL main antagonist. Without giving anything away, the real main villain of the series follows the opposite path: at first he seems sympathetic and endearing, but the more we learn about him and the more horrible things he does, the more we come to loathe him and want to see him kicked in the face a thousand times over. Vincent, meanwhile, we start off hating his guts, but by the time his part in the story ends, we’re sad to see him go, because we understand him and care about him, and realize not everything was his fault. I actually feel a little bad for not placing Vincent higher, but I doubt the characters above him will drastically disappoint. He may have been one of the nastiest characters in the franchise, but if ever proof was needed that Evil is a lonely course to take, Vincent Nightray could provide it.
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5. Cheshire Cat.
Wonderland Analogue: Doesn’t need to be given, because IT’S HIS NAME.
Again, the Cheshire Cat doesn’t have a lot of time in the series - he gets one major arc fairly early on, appears in several flashbacks afterwards, and then makes a sudden and unexpected return much later in the story - but that doesn’t keep him from being one of the most fascinating figures in the universe of PH. Cheshire is the reincarnation of an innocent kitten who belonged to a girl named Alice; the kitten was brutally murdered by Vincent Nightray. As a Chain, the Cheshire Cat is steadfastly loyal to the Will of the Abyss, and - at least at the start of the series - dwells within a mysterious realm simply known as “The Cheshire Cat’s House.” The “house” is an eerie Victorian mansion that is literally made up of all of the worst memories the Will has, and Cheshire guards the mansion and the Will herself with ferocious zeal. It’s ironic because this is a very different take on the Cheshire Cat, in general: the character in the book, and most other adaptations, is a chaotic being who shows loyalty to seemingly no one, and while some versions lean more towards good or evil, friend or foe, than others, he ultimately isn’t an obedient housecat. He’s more of an enigmatic agent of madness. This Cheshire Cat is a totally different spin on things. He’s got human-like intelligence, for the most part, and occasionally speaks in a cryptic or evasive manner, but he’s not the puzzling imp of Carroll’s classic. He doesn’t even SMILE all that often...and when he does it’s...well...the most terrifying thing you’ll ever see. But just because he’s a very different take on the character, doesn’t mean he’s still not a good one; Cheshire’s mixture of ravenous hunger (all Chains are so), sadistic ferocity, and childlike adoration of the Will make him a very layered character. Like the Will herself, he can be very creepy and menacing, but he can also be sympathetic and sweet, since he still very much is that loving kitten whose life was cut short. In a very short time, he becomes one of the most standout characters, and despite a relatively short lifespan (so to speak), it’s clear the creators really liked Cheshire, since they tried to find ways to fit him in all over the place. It’s a sign of restraint on their parts, I’d say, that he doesn’t pop up more often throughout the franchise. When he does pop up, he’s a scene stealer, and I was always excited to see him.
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4. Oz Vessalius.
Wonderland Analogue: N/A
Our chief protagonist, and another original character, Oz Vessalius is a teenager whose life is turned upside-down when, at his Coming-of-Age Ceremony, a group of depraved cultists send him body and soul into the Abyss. He makes a contract with a Chain called Alice, and escapes the Abyss, only to discover that the very short time he spent down there equated to a full decade in the real world. He is enlisted by Pandora, and the rest of the series focuses on his adventures as he tries to discover the secrets of a cataclysmic event from the past known as “The Tragedy of Sablier” - in which an entire city was somehow sucked down into the Abyss. Oz is an endearing young hero, as his youth is mixed with a curious maturity. At times he’s very silly and almost hopelessly optimistic, but at other times he shows a very fatalistic and calculating side to his personality. Part of this is due to his upbringing, as his father never showed him any love at all, and the best friend he ever really had was his own servant, Gilbert. He didn’t exactly get out much to explore the world. So while he’s lived a very sheltered life, it’s also been a very cold one. Oz works on a philosophy of acceptance, just going with the flow and trying not to let the bad things get to you...but considering he frequently claims his own life means very little to him, it’s very clear the bad things DO get to him. In fact, despite his privileged youth, he puts the lives of others vastly before his own, even when he doesn’t know them all that well. He just doesn’t like to show how much things can hurt him, and tries to press ahead no matter what. It’s a complex sort of way of thinking - being proud and unflinching and yet humble and downright self-loathing, all with a dash of youthful exuberance - and as the series goes on, and we learn more about Oz than maybe even he knows, it only becomes more fascinating. He may not be my favorite character, but he’s a fine protagonist for us to follow, and certainly worthy of high marks here.
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3.  Gilbert Nightray.
Wonderland Analogue: The Monstrous Crow...probably.
I say “probably” because Gilbert’s Chain, as well as his own codename, is “Raven,” which is an obvious reference to the riddle “Why is a raven like a writing desk?” I guess it’s possible both were inspirational, but the Crow is an actual creature/character in the stories, so it’s the one I choose to credit. Whatever the case, Gil is one of the other major protagonists in the series, and...this guy is freaking adorable. I know he doesn’t look it, but trust me, he’s adorable. At the start of the series, we meet Gil as a small boy, who has amnesia about his past and works as a servant for Oz. Oz is not only his Master, but his best friend, and Gil will do absolutely anything to protect and serve his “Young Master” no matter what. After Oz descends into the Abyss, Gil - blaming himself - tries to run away...and is enlisted, at a very young age, by Xerxes Break. He becomes a double-agent, working for both the Rainsworth and Nightray households, upon discovering he is actually a long-lost member of the Nightray family. When Oz returns years later, Gil is a seemingly changed man: stoic, stern, always dressed in black, smoking heavily, and rarely speaking. Very quickly, however, we discover a lot of this stoicism is a facade: underneath it all, Gil is very much still a child at heart, and even though he’s grown older, he still sees Oz as his brother and best friend, as well as his true master, and will do anything to protect and to help him. Just as Oz always puts his life ahead of others, Gil’s foremost thoughts are always with Oz and how he can help him, and the lengths he’ll go to in order to keep Oz safe are sometimes touching, sometimes hilarious, and sometimes downright heartbreaking. Gil’s “dark side” is certainly engaging - he’s a crack shot with a pistol, and has a gloomy and cynical sense of humor - but I think what’s most endearing about him are the moments...and there are surprisingly many...where we see the cracks in the armor, and this “seaweed head” shows that he really hasn’t changed as much as he often claims. Whether he’s a man of action or a man of hilarious hijinks, Gilbert Nightray is more than worthy of a place in the top three.
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2. Alice.
Wonderland Analogue: Again, IT’S HER NAME.
The secondary protagonist of the series, after Oz, this Alice is a far cry from the little girl we know of from the Carroll stories. At the start of the franchise, we are introduced to Alice as a Chain known as “B. Rabbit” - a title that stands for both “Black Rabbit” and “Bloody” or “Bloodstained Rabbit.” (In fact, her full title is often given as “The Bloody/Bloodstained Black Rabbit.”) B. Rabbit is one of the most powerful Chains out there, and in her Chain form, Alice is a nigh-unstoppable powerhouse ruled by bloodthirst - a maniacal berserker whose morning star chains and massive scythe cleave through even the toughest opponents with ease. However, Alice can also resort to human form, and here she’s much more...well...human. She has the same basic weaknesses a human has, she’s not quite as psychotic (though she DOES have a nasty temper at times)...really, the only sign of her being a Chain is her ravenous hunger. Like any Chain, Alice is ALWAYS hungry, and always hungry for MEAT. Thankfully, unlike other Chains, Alice has no desire to consume human beings. Indeed, while at first she comes across as frightening and intimidating, Alice has a very vulnerable side to her; she’s lived her life without any real friends or family, since the only “family” she has is her twin, the Will of the Abyss...and, to put things simply, they don’t get along very well. Much like Oz, she often feels like she’s undeserving of other people’s care and attention, but while Oz compensates this through being charitable and caring, Alice compensates by over-inflating herself; a classic “superiority complex via inferiority complex” issue. She’s never unlikeable, however, and as the series goes on - and we come to realize that Alice’s true identity, and her status as a Chain, is a lot less cut-and-dry than we might think - she only becomes a more and more fun and fascinating character...arguably more fascinating than Oz. Indeed, it’s really Alice who drives so much of the plot of the series forward, as her whole goal in the series is to find out the truth of her past and regain her lost memories, and it’s through the team’s efforts to help Alice in this goal that so much of the story is told. Oz is really just along for the ride, at least at first. Powerful but not invincible, and easily one of my favorite takes on the title character of the Carroll stories, Alice nabs second place easily…
...But who in the great wide world could take first? That honor goes to...
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1. Xerxes Break.
Wonderland Analogue: The Mad Hatter AND The White Knight.
Yep. Two characters. How is this possible? Well, the first thing to know about Xerxes Break is that he wasn’t always called “Xerxes Break.” Once upon a time, he was a knight called Kevin Regnard, who served a noble family; his Chain was called Albus the White Knight. When Regnard’s mistakes led to the destruction of the entire family, he went absolutely bonkers and became a twisted serial killer known as the Red-Eyed Ghost. Ultimately, however, his contract with Albus ended, and Regnard was dragged down into the Abyss, where the Will and the Cheshire Cat ripped out one of his eyes (...yikes…), and plotted to turn him into another Chain. Things get a bit complicated at this point, but basically, Kevin managed to escape and was thrown into another time and place upon doing so. He was taken in by the Rainsworth family, befriend Reim Lunettes, and steadily began to come out of his shell. He took the name “Xerxes Break,” because he felt “broken,” later formed a contract with a very special and powerful Chain known as The Mad Hatter (in fact, one of Break’s nicknames is “Mr. Hatter”), and crafted a whole new personality for himself: Kevin Regnard was stern, work-obsessed, and wore his heart on his sleeve. Xerxes Break is in every way his opposite. When it comes to takes on the Mad Hatter, Break is one of the best; granted, we very rarely see him WEAR a hat, but the personality of the guy speaks for itself. Break often comes across as clownish and childishly hyperactive, constantly eating sweets, performing magic tricks and weird stunts just for the sheer sake of it, prancing around and giggling like a small boy, and even interacting with a puppet he calls “Emily”...which...may or may not actually be alive. However, much of this is a facade, as underneath it all, Break is...well...broken. Not just in body (he’s much, much older and more frail than he often seems), but in terms of his mind; he’s half-crazed and extremely mercurial. Much like with Rufus Barma, Break is somebody you’re never entirely sure of, but in a different way. Break, you see, is very open and honest; he never tells lies and he makes his loyalties and disloyalties very clear. But at the same time he’s very secretive and enigmatic, often speaking in riddles and partial-truths to throw people off. He’s very cunning and intelligent, and a gifted swordsman, and will do anything and use almost anyone to get what he wants. So while he can be extremely funny, he can also be very frightening and ruthless. You’re never sure what’s going to set him off and if the next line he says is going to be a threat or a joke. And as the series goes on, and we see more and more of Break’s vulnerabilities, we only come to care about him more and more, though, at the same time, he always remains an eternal mystery. A riddle with no real answer...just like the Mad Hatter’s from the book. (Way to bring things around, don’t you think?) Whether you look at him as a version of the Hatter, or look at him just for who and what he is on his own terms, he is, in my opinion, the most well-rounded and fascinating character in the whole series, and easily takes the top spot as My Favorite Pandora Hearts Character. Xerxes Break, I doff my own topper to thee. (tips hat)
Honorable Mentions Include...
Elliot Nightray.
Leo.
Jack Vessalius.
Lottie Baskerville.
Lily Baskerville.
Ada Vessalius.
Phillipe West.
21 notes · View notes
petersasteria · 3 years
Note
💌- sam holland//mad hatter
I don’t write for Sam Holland, but I’ll make an exception.
𝐌𝐀𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 - "𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐢'𝐦 𝐩𝐬𝐲𝐜𝐡𝐨, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐢'𝐦 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐬𝐲𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠"
Warning: it gets weirder and it’s not for the fainthearted. Probably not for minors as well. There’s no smut tho... only mentions of sex. You have been warned. Welcome to the weird side of my mind. 2.5k words
“Hello, Sam.” The psychiatrist greeted with a smile. Sam looked at her and only gave her a nod. “Is there any reason why you’re here today, Sam? A little birdie told me you needed some help. What happened?”
Sam looked at her with fear in his eyes as tears clouded his vision. He shakes his head and whimpered, “I’m not crazy. I’m normal! I swear, I am! I’m not crazy, but she is.”
“No one’s saying you’re crazy.” The psychiatrist smiled. She had a kind face and she was mother-like. The job suited her because her voice is calm and soothing. “Who is she?”
Sam closed his eyes as vivid flashbacks replayed on his mind. It flashed in his mind like it was being played on a projector and he was the only audience. He took a deep breath and said, “She lived two streets away...”
Sam never really went out a lot, but when he would go out, he’d stay out all day. The rest of the family wouldn’t question him as long as he got home safe and sound and unharmed. When he received a bike from his uncle, he thought it’d be best to try it out. After all, it’s been years since he rode a bike and this way, he’d be saving the Earth from pollution if he biked to work instead.
He popped his earphones on and got on his new bike and pedalled. He had no destination in mind and he was confident that he wouldn’t get lost because he grew up in the area and he knew a lot of places like this back of his hand. It was safe to say that he trusted himself and that was important.
He went through a few turns until he reached the other street. There wasn’t much to see, but he waved at a few of the neighbors he knew. When he turned again, he reached another street. It was at this time when he figured that he should go home. Instead of going back the way he came, he just biked straight ahead. He can’t possibly get lost. The streets have names and he knew what his street was and he knew how to get there from different ways.
He eyed at some of the house and inwardly judged at which house he liked best when suddenly he saw an abandoned house. He stopped in front of it and realized that not only was it abandoned, but it was also ruined.
The windows were no longer there and there were shards of glass on the ground. There was no grass and the steps of the front porch were broken. The second floor of the house was nonexistent, but two pillars were there. The walls on the ground floor were destroyed and it looked like the whole place was burned down.
Sam was in shock. He had never seen a house like that before. What he failed to notice was a girl about his age emerging from the bushes that had no leaves anymore.
“Hi there!” The girl grinned. Sam didn’t want to comment about her fashion sense and the way she grinned, so he gave her a small smile and said hello.
The girl moved and stood next to Sam as they faced the ruined house together. No one said anything for a while, but the girl broke it.
“What a shame.” The girl said. She was dressed in quite fancy yet eccentric clothing. She even had a fancy hat and laced gloves on her hands. She was wearing socks on top of her boots as well; another thing Sam failed to notice.
“Yeah, a shame indeed.” Sam nodded. “D’you know the person who lived here?” The girl nodded. Sam asked, “Who lived here?”
“Me.” The girl giggled. “I burned this place down because I’m having a party.”
“I’m sorry. WHAT?” Sam shrieked. He’s never met anyone who would burn the whole place down.
The girl laughed, “All this for a party. How extravagant!”
“What’s the occasion?” Sam asked.
“My whole family died in a tragic vacation accident. I felt the need to celebrate.” The girl grinned.
“Celebrate? Why would you celebrate? You lost your whole family! That must be so traum-”
“It’s the most tremendous news I’ve ever received. They think I’m crazy and I’m glad they’re all gone. That way, no one would judge me and my eccentric ways of living anymore.” The girl clapped happily.
“What’s your name?” Sam looked at her. Despite her weirdness, she was pretty.
“Y/N. What’s yours?”
“Sam.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Sam.” Y/N grinned. She shoved her hand in her pocket and fished out a crumpled card that had very fancy printing. Sam took it from her and he tried to read it, but failed. It was crumpled up really well.
“That’s an invitation to my party later tonight. Wear your BEST attire.” Y/N looked at him up and down, “Don’t wear any of that garbage.”
He was dressed casually. He wore khaki shorts, white sneakers, and a long sleeved shirt, the type of shirt Troy Bolton would wear. On top of that was an old jacket that never closed anymore because the zipper is missing.
Sam nodded and said, “I’ll, uh, do my best then.”
Night time came and he wore a button up and some pants and old sneakers. He hoped it was eccentric enough for the party. He told his family that he was invited by a friend and he went to the party.
Upon arriving at the house, he parked his new bike outside and saw fairy lights everywhere: on the trees, around the two pillars on the second floor, the grass-less ground, the wires and just- everywhere. The party also had balloons, streamers, 
He walked to the backyard because he saw that everyone was there. Y/N saw him and grinned, “Sam, you made it! You’re just in time for musical chairs.”
‘Musical chairs?’ He thought to himself. ‘The last time I played musical chairs, I was about 10 years old.’
Y/N grabbed his wrist and led him to the long table. She made him sit next to her and just when he got comfortable, Y/N and the person on his right grabbed his hands as they all got up and moved around the table as if playing “Ring Around The Rosie”. They all sang a song for about a minute and sat down again. Only this time, on different chairs.
Sam looked around the table and he saw everyone eating and talking. He figured he’d do the same, so he grabbed a cookie and took a bite. He hummed in delight as the sweet flavor of the cookie swirled on his taste buds. When he looked up from the cookie, he saw everyone looking at him.
“What’s going on?” Sam asked Y/N.
“You ate the cookie.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. It’s just that I saw everyone eating and I figured I should... eat as well.” Sam explained. He felt foolish and embarrassed.
“Only females who have the red tide can eat the breast cookie.” Y/N said.
‘Did she fucking say ‘breast cookie’?!’ Sam asked himself while maintaining a cool expression.
“What’s a breast cookie?”
“The one you just ate. It’s made of breast milk. Regular milk is overrated. We all thank Madame Amanda for providing us with such great breast milk.” Y/N smiled towards a lady who sat a few seats across from her.
“And because Y/N’s guest ate the wrong food, we must fix the curse. Move!” One of them said.
Before Sam knew it, his hands were grabbed and they moved around the table once more. When they got comfy on their new seats, Y/N handed him the food he’s allowed to eat. An hour and 5 more times of switching seats later, ‘musical chairs’ was done.
Everyone stood up from their seats and moved to the center of the backyard. Sam followed Y/N’s actions and was surprised to hear that it was time to drink.
‘Finally some alcohol!’ Sam thought.
He was wrong. He seemed to forget that the people around him weren’t like him.
“What are we drinking?” Sam asked.
“It’s actually a drinking game. We’re all split into three groups and whichever group finishes the fastest, wins.” Y/N grinned and clapped her hands excitedly causing Sam to be excited too.
While everything was being set up, Sam conversed with Y/N a bit and then Amanda, the breast milk lady, said, “Split yourselves into three groups! If you wish to not join, you may watch at the side.”
Sam looked around and saw a few people moving to the side. He saw them having a look of pure disgust. He was about to approach one of them when Y/N grabbed his attention, “Sam, it’s rude to stare. The cum shots are ready.”
‘The cum shots? What?!’ Sam inwardly said to himself. Surely, he heard his wrong.
“The what?” Sam asked.
“The cum shots. Alcohol is overrated and this solves over population. Besides, it’s not just anyone’s cum. They’re from the guys here and some of the girls. It’s a wild card.” Y/N said with a grin.
“I’ll pass, then.” Sam said with a tight-lipped smile.
“Pass? Why?”
“I’m, uh...” He thought of a lie quick. “I have a fatal cum allergy.” Sam said and pretended to be upset.
Y/N laughed and said, “A fatal cum allergy? I knew I liked you. Guys with that allergy are so rare to find. Go and stand over there, then. Have fun watching.”
Sam wanted to vomit as he watched everyone down the shots like there was no tomorrow. 
“Disgusting, innit?” A guy next to him said and Sam nodded.
“Very.” Sam said, looking away from it all.
“Run while you can before your mind gets ruined forever. Whatever you do, never come back here after this. People like you end up in The Pod.”
“The Pod?” Sam asked in confusion.
“That’s what we call a mental hospital.”
“Why would they end up in The Pod?” Sam asked, afraid.
“They told everyone what happens here and no one believed them. These people that you see right now? They’re not like this sometimes. They’re actually normal people. Sometimes too normal it becomes creepy.” The guy explained.
“You’ll go insane if you tell anyone because no one will believe you. Run while you can.” The guy said and walked away when he saw Y/N approaching.
“What did he say to you?” Y/N asked.
“Nothing.” Sam lied. “We just talked about my fatal cum allergy.”
“Ahh, yes.” Y/N nodded. “Anyway, it’s time for my favorite part. Popping the balloons.”
“Okay.” Sam said, thankful that there’s a normal activity. Sam went back to the center of the backyard with Y/N. She handed him a gun and said, “Since you’re a guest, it’s your job to pop the biggest balloon.”
Sam eyed the gun and the biggest pink balloon. ”The prize is inside.” Y/N giggled like a high school girl.
Sam nodded and gulped. He aimed at the biggest balloon and pulled the trigger. Lucky for him, the bullet went through the balloon and it popped causing the contents of the balloon to fall.
Inside the balloon were: confetti, condoms, tea bags, heart shaped candies, pregnancy tests, and a small flashlight.
“Go on and pick the ones you want, Sam. You’ll definitely need the flashlight later for another game.” Y/N said as she picked up a few things.
“What do I need the flashlight for?” Sam questioned.
“Us girls are hiding something inside us and you boys have to find it. That’s what the flashlight is for.” Y/N explained before leaning in to whisper, “I’m hiding a small ring inside me.” She winked and smiled.
“What happens after that?” Sam asked.
“Sex.” Y/N shrugged. “It’s not just any sex, though. All the fair light will be closed and we’ll all have sex out here in the dark. The best part is we wouldn’t know who we had sex with. It’s a wildcard.”
“Just like the cum shots?”
“Just like the cum shots.”
Sam never thought he’d say words like that. In fact, he knew he should’ve declined the invite in the first place, but he figured it’d be nice to meet new people. He knew Y/N was weird, but he didn’t know she was bonkers.
“I actually have to go home now. I’m not feeling well.” Sam said politely.
“Oh, what a shame.” Y/N pouted. “I hope you’ll join the orgy next time you’re back and healthy. We’ll be painting white roses with blood on the next party. See you there.”
Sam gave her a tight-lipped smile, bid her goodbye, and left. He never came back, but the thought of keeping everything to himself made him antsy. A few days later, he finally cracked and told everything to Harry.
Then Tom.
Then Harrison.
Then Tuwaine.
The 4 men were concerned about him. After all, who wouldn’t be concerned? Sam told them the most absurd thing. Sam went as far as taking them to the house and sure enough, it was still ruined just like the day he saw it.
The only difference is, Y/N is nowhere to be found.
“I swear she’s here! You have to believe me.” Sam pleaded.
Tom looked at him and asked, “Sam, are you on drugs? If you are, that’s so unlike you.”
“I’m not on drugs! I’m telling the truth!” Sam said. He looked around and he saw Y/N wearing normal clothes and she seemed to be walking her dog.
“That’s her!” Sam pointed.
“Excuse me, miss!” Harrison called out causing Y/N to look over. He motioned for her to walk closer and she obeyed.
“Yeah?”
“Do you know him?” Harrison nodded his head at Sam as Sam looked at Y/N with pleading eyes. “He claims that you drank cum shots and have orgies at your party the other day. He also claims that you threw a party because your family died in a tragic accident. And is it true that you burned your own house down just for the party to make it extravagant?”
Y/N smiled sadly and said, “It’s true that I lost my family, but I would never throw a party to celebrate such loss. I would also never burn down my only living space. It was an accident; I left the oven on and it burned everything.”
“I’m so sorry.” Harrison said. “You may go now.”
Y/N nodded and left without sparing Sam one more glance.
“Liar!” Sam screamed and lunged towards her. Before he could do anything, Tom held him back and nodded at Harry.
“We’re scheduling you with a psychiatrist. You need help, mate.” Harry said, tapping away on his phone.
“That’s why I’m here now.” Sam said and finished his story.
The psychiatrist nodded and told him that it could be a realistic dream or something that linked to his past. To Sam, the psychiatrist didn’t make sense. He nodded along nonetheless. He wasn’t prescribed with anything, but he was told to stay away from the ruined house.
When Sam got home, he checked their mailbox and saw nothing except for a note. He grabbed the note and it read: 
‘I hope you learned your lesson from silently judging people. Just because someone else’s normal isn’t your kind of normal, doesn’t mean it’s less normal.
- Y/N x’
* * * *
𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 (bc he’s the twin so why not): @sufwubi @abrielleholland @purplepizza-summerrain @euphorichxlland @marshxx @lizzyosterfield @justanamesstuff @croissantwriting @blueleatherbag @givebuckyhisplumsnow
𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @marvelousell @justasmisunderstoodasloki @rubberducky-jrr @allyz @osterfieldnholland @miraclesoflove @god-knows-what-am-i-doing @drie-the-derp @hollands-weasley @itstaskeen @call-me-baby-gir1 @the-panwitch @iamaunicorn4704 @geminiparkers @holland-styles @calltothewild @fancyxparker @whatthefuckimbisexual @justanothermarvelmaniac @unsaidholland @musicalkeys @lost-in-the-stars03 @hufflepuffprincess24 @hollanddolanfangirl @parkerpeter24 @bellelittleoff @agentnataliahofferson @aqiise @lexirv @blairscott @pearly-pisces @theonly1outof-a-billion @u-rrose @speedymaximoff @theliterarymess @beequeen8020 @justafangirlduh
add yourself to my taglist if you’re cool x
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barnesbabee · 4 years
Text
CHAPTER ONE - WONDERLAND
   WONDERLAND MASTERLIST
 ⇜ ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ - ᴏɴᴇ -  ɴᴇxᴛ ⟿
CHARACTER LIST:
  White Rabbit - Choi Jongho
  Absolem (Blue Catterpilar) - Kang Yeosang
  Cheshire Cat - Kim Hongjoong
  Mad Hatter - Choi San
  Haigha (March Hare) - Jung Wooyoung
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 You wandered around the Wonderland, absolutely clueless about where to go and what to do. You were lost in a world where you didn’t belong, in a place where nothing was what it seemed. You looked around apprehensively, not knowing if any of the things around you were alive, if a tree was going to try and make conversation or if a rock would introduce itself to you.
  Suddenly, you encountered a bifurcation on the road, avoiding a big tree in the middle. Its trunk was in a dark purple shade, and its leaves were pink. You could swear you saw it sparkling too... You were inspecting the tree, carefully as to not touch it, when a wide smile appeared out of thin air. It started as a small set of teeth, that spread to become a large, smiling mouth. You stumbled back and nearly fell at the sight. Seconds after, a pair of big, green, cat-like eyes developed just the same way the mouth had. 
   “You might want to be careful.” The mouth said ominously.
You took a deep breath. You were dead. You were imagining this, it wasn't real, so he couldn't hurt you.
   “And what are you supposed to be!?” You asked, unbelieving the sight before you.
  The shapes swirled in the air, and a man appeared. He was small and pale, with the exception of three purple lines on each cheek, that seemed to be fading. His hair was a mix of pink and purple, almost as if he had mimicked the tree, and his eyes were shining as they looked down at you. The ‘man’ was now lying on the tree, with his belly pressed against the hard wood, his feet up in the air, and the palms of his hands supporting his face. He had on a purple vest over a white button-up shirt, much like the man you had followed in the park before. He wore tight black pants that stopped just below his knees and seemed to have been scratched... by a cat. You noticed he was barefoot as well.
   “You may call me Cheshire. Cheshire Cat.”
   You stared at him, dumbfounded. Cat? You inspected him closer, He had no ears, no paws... The only thing that resembled a cat were his sharp teeth.
   “You don’t look like a cat...”
   He swirled in the air and disappeared, then popping up beside you. He traced your jaw with his finger.
   “Oh, you’re a newcomer.” He concluded.
  You nodded and stepped away from him. He vanished into thin air once more, only to appear meters away from you, floating over the road on the right side of the tree.
   “I better take you to the Hatter then, he’ll be best to explain the Wonderland to you.”
  You didn’t move, you just stared at the floating pink and purple man.
   “Well, you’d better come. It would be foolish not to get to know the land you’re in.”
   You immediately ran over to Cheshire and accompanied him along the road that had now faded to green.
   “And what do you call yourself, hm?” He asked you.
   You noticed how a smile was always present in his face. Sometimes it was a grin, sometimes it was a full smile, but it never left his pink lips.
   “Y/N... I’m Y/N.”
   “Hm, an uncommon name.”
   The ‘Cat’ would occasionally twirl and swirl in the air, spin around tree trunks and branches while humming to a song. You found him scarily amusing, he was inviting yet threatening, just like this unknown land seemed to be. 
  You soon arrived in a place of many colors, that seemed to be slightly fading to a darker tone. there was a big house in the shape of a bronze teapot, with a big green hat as a ceiling and several pieces of fabric of all shapes and colors decorating around it. Outside of the house was a big wooden table, covered by a torn, stained white tablecloth. On top of the table there were teapots, teacups, all kinds of silver cutlery (from small spoons to big forks), and plates from all sizes.
  Although there were about seven chairs on each side, there were only two people present. One sitting on the head of the table and the other one in the third chair on his left side. 
  You approached them, along with Cheshire. The Cat seemed to be comfortable around the two, as he disappeared again and re-appeared sitting between the two of them. 
   “Hello compadres.” Chesire sang as his finger traced the shapes of one of the white teacups and his other hand held his chin up.
  They were both visibly startled by the sudden summoning of the purple-haired creature. The looks of confusion turned into looks of amusement as they both burst into laughter. You didn’t understand what was so funny, so you stepped closer.
  The man at the head of the table had a green-ish top hat with a piece of pink cloth and several pins around it. He wore a long coat that matched the hat’s color, black suit capri pants, and a button-up black shirt dotted with many colors. His orange, middle-parted hair was short, but still visible under the hat. His face was interesting... He had big, green eyes (that almost seemed fake) and an incredibly pale face, with the exception of the pink halos painted around his eyes.
  The other male, who had yellow eyes, wore a simple large white button-up shit, tucked in a pair of short, tight brown pants and a very large olive suit jacket.
  The second they noticed you they both stood up and walked over to you.
   “Oh but it’s a guest!” The smaller one said.
   “So it is! Welcome, guest, to our unbirthday party!”
  You let them take you by your hands, one each, and sit you down. They sat down themselves and poured you a cup of tea.
   “I’m sorry, unbirthday?”
   The man you supposed was the Hatter that Chesire had told you about nodded vigorously. 
   “Indeed! We have a tea party whenever it’s not our birthday!” The Hatter explained.
   “But... That’s every day.” You said, confused.
   The yellow-eyed male slammed his hands on the table and laughed.
   “Exactly! Every day is a day for a tea party because every day is not our birthday and therefore every day is our unbirthday which we must celebrate!” He explained and you noticed his eye left eye and his head would twitch slightly.
   The Hatter and the other male exchanged looks before bursting into laughter.
   You looked at Cheshire, worriedly and he just chuckled lowly and motioned to the two other men with his hands.
   “They’re mad!” He told you.
   “Isn’t everyone?” The Hatter asked as he leaned closer to you and giggled.
   “All the best people are!” 
   You were surprised at the small voice coming from inside one of the empty teapots.
   Cheshire kindly opened it and a mouse popped out.
   “Who are you?” You curiously asked the little mouse, cutely dressed up in tiny clothes.
   “Oh, how rude of us not to introduce ourselves.” The Hatter commented while standing up from his chair.
    “I, am the Mad Hatter, that,” he introduced, pointing at the other male that waved at you while one of his piercing yellow eyes twitched “is the March Hare, but I’ve taken the liberty to call him Haigha because March Hare is far too long and we do not, absolutely do not, have time to waste. Do you not agree?”
  You just nodded along, speechless and amused at the man. He then let the mouse climb onto his hand and approached it to you. The little mouse gracefully bowed to you and you bowed your head, showing him respect.
   “And this is Dormouse.”
   “The presentations are lovely and I'm sure the tea party is going amazingly, but I won’t be staying for long, I fear I might become mad...” Cheshire told the Hatter as he floated above his chair, with his legs crossed “I’m afraid Y/N is not from around here, and I know how much you love to talk about the wonderous Wonderland, isn’t it right?”
  For a second it seemed as if the Hatter had entered Heaven. He clasped his hands together and sighed.
   “But of course! The Wonderland is the most marvelous place. I’ve traveled to distant lands and none other is as beautiful as here. Everything is peaceful and colorful, the flowers greet you with a good morning as you wake up, and the moon bids goodnight as you fall asleep. The parties are like no other, filled with joy and laughter of the animals and citizens, and oh so much tea! It’s like a paradise and-”
  The man was so involved in describing his beautiful homeland that you felt bad when Cheshire interrupted him by clearing his throat and playing with one of his pink locks.
   “Aren’t you forgetting something, Hatter?” He sang.
  The Hatter’s smile quickly turned into a frown and his face expressed disgust and terror.
   “The Bloody Red King.” He growled so low you almost didn’t hear him at all.
   “What he’s describing, it’s before” The Hare paused to let out a screechy laugh “before the Bloody Red King.”
The Hatter stood up and threw one of his precious teacups and the walls of his house, as he laughed maniacally.
   “The soulless monarch who cursed all of us. He became King after mercilessly slaying his sister who owned the throne. He slit her throat out of envy and jealousy and started ruling us like a power-hungry beast. He tortures and kills the ones who don’t content him. After he took the throne, most of us escaped from the Kingdom, as we would never accept being ruled by a tyrant, but he forced a witch to cast a spell upon us. Everyone that didn’t obey him, would become just like him. That’s why Cheshire is no longer a cat, and why Haigha is no longer a Hare, he’s turned them into these bodies, that resemble his species, so they’d never forget who they belong to.”
  Cheshire whined at the memory.
The Hatter's speech was fueled by rage and wish for vengeance, you could tell.
   “I hate this body, I miss my ears...” He pouted and caressed the top of his head, where his purple-striped ears once stood.
"No offense, of course." Chesire told you with a sly smile, after noticing that your natural body was, in fact, the same species as the one he tried to escape from.
  You looked at the three of them and instantly felt bad. Cheshire was no longer grinning and the laughs had quieted down. All of them were visibly upset, which was understandable since they’d lost who they were. 
   “What about Dormouse?”
  The little animal looked up at you and shrugged.
   “I’m forgettable I guess...”
  His answer was as depressing as Hatter’s explanation, and your expression fell at it.
  The Mad man looked deep into your eyes and leaned forward.
  “Whatever you do, avoid the King. He’s merciless, he’s ruthless. He cares for nothing and no one, the Bloody Red King means only danger.”
   “Down with the Bloody Red King.”
88 notes · View notes
tallestsilver · 5 years
Text
Disneyland Modern AU
For @littlelonghairedoutlaw‘s PotO AU Fic Contest! Summary: While at Disneyland, Christine is determined to make Erik have fun and figure out his favorite ride.  Rating: PG or K+  Ship: Erik/Christine kinda. More friendly than romantic  AU: Modern
“Erik, please at least try to enjoy yourself.”
A noncommittal exhalation of breath, too light to be a grunt, was the response. The dour look on Erik’s face only worsened as more people lined up behind them, becoming more crowded. “The ‘Happiest Place on Earth’, indeed,” he monotoned. 
Christine sighed in exasperation and rummaged through her petite backpack as the line moved a step closer to the entrance to the park. “Look, I can’t think of anyone who doesn’t like at least one-” she held up her index finger to emphasize her point, “-one thing at Disneyland.” She withdrew a set of plain Minnie Ears, complete with a pink bow and situated it on top of her head. It barely peaked out from her massive amount of fluffy curls, but it remained steadfast. “You cannot be serious with that ridiculous thing.”
“When in Rome, do as the Romans do!” “I have been to Rome and they certainly do not care about the doings of tourists. They would rather-” “Erik, it’s just an expression,” Christine said with a roll of her eyes as he continued muttering about barbarians. Perhaps this was not the best idea she had come up with. She was determined to have fun with Erik in one of her favorite places, but he always had to make things more difficult. His rotten mood would not spoil her magical day, and she was focused on making his day magical as well.
“You said you wanted to go with me,” she reminded him as she passed her ticket along to the taker. A scant, a delightful tinkling of approval, and she passed through the turnstile. 
She waited on the other side, watching Erik fidget with his hands and recheck his prosthetic nose, complete with fake mustache. He was overly anxious, she realized, with a sinking feeling. He was denied his mask, for they were not allowed in the park, and so he settled on some makeup and a detachable nose. Despite his disguise, he wore dark shades to try and hide himself as much as possible. 
Erik held his breath and passed through the turnstile, as if he was going to be tackled by security and thrown out of the Magic Kingdom, and worse yet, be tossed into California Adventure, but he passed through without any protestations. He exhaled in relief. “Well, now we’re here so let’s get on with it,” he said. Christine grinned and grabbed his arm. “First stop, the Mad Hatter’s!”
“WHAT?” 
Walking at a determined pace, but walking nevertheless, Christine pulled Erik by the elbow straight down Mainstreet. They passed by window panels that depicted scenes of various Disney movies. “These were my favorite as a kid,” she told him, imitating a grinning Ariel rocking back and forth. “They would release the whole movie in these little scenes for whatever came out that year. They stopped doing that, though…” 
Erik leaned in and inspected the window next to hers. Cinderella was waltzing with Prince Charming, the clock tower looming behind them. 
“Let’s go!” And he was yoinked away. Christine inhaled the intoxicating aromas wafting throughout the street as they headed toward Sleeping Beauty’s Castle. Confections enticing her with their sweet promises nearly stopped her in her tracks, but she had one thought in mind that she dare not tell Erik until they arrived in Fantasyland. “ABSOLUTELY NOT,” he declared as she held up a simple black Mickey hat. “Everyone gets one, Erik!” Christine said joyously. Despite his black sunglasses, she could feel his piercing gaze. 
“Christine, you’re wasting your time and your money.” She handed over the money to the cashier, who was eyeing Erik with uncertainty. “Ma’am, we have other hats that-” “Just ignore him. He’ll grow to love it.” “Would you like that embroidered?” “NO HE WOULD NOT,” Erik interjected. “Yes please! Erik, if you wouldn’t mind. That’s E-R-I-K. No ‘C’.” “We will do that in one moment!”
“Wonderful! Thank you!” 
The embroidery machine whirred to life as Christine turned back to Erik with a grin to match the Cheshire Cat’s above her. 
“Fie, a pox on both your houses,” he glowered at her, but she just continued to smile without regard to his fuming. 
“Hate me all you want, but this will help you blend in with everyone else.” She was handed the Mickey Ears, smartly embroidered in swirling yellow letters with “Erik”. She stood on her tip toes and snugly placed it on top of Erik’s head, securing the elastic bad around his chin. “There! You can throw it away after today, but for now, you’ll have plenty of Disney fun with me!”
He slumped his shoulders in defeat. “If I must…” “You must!” Christine told him cheerfully, because damn it all, she was going to make sure this day was fun for him. Even if it killed her. 
Or even if it killed him. 
At Christine’s insistence, they hit Fantasyland first, “since we’re already here,” she explained, “although Adventureland is the best, by far.” His arms were tightly folded on the Mad Tea Party Teacups, as Christine dutifully spun them faster and faster, laughing all the while. His sour disposition never faltered through Peter Pan, Alice in Wonderland, or King Arthur’s Carousel. Christine could have sworn she saw the slightest crack of a smile on Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride upon their exit into Hell. But however quick it might have been, it vanished before she could have been certain. 
“Now I know this next one will be your favorite!” She cheered gleefully as they soared up and down through the air on Dumbo - 
“-a character who faced discrimination and torment on a daily basis until he had capital value,” Erik commented with a growl. 
Christine’s face fell as their Dumbo rose up into the air with the other elephants before making their descent. “You don’t have to put it like that…” she said softly. She shook her head, “no matter! Dumbo isn’t your favorite.”
As they exited the ride, she stuck her chin out defiantly and posed like Peter Pan. “We will find what you like today!”
Erik adjusted his dark glasses delicately, avoiding too much contact with his fake nose. “That’s highly unlikely.”
__________________________________________________________
By the afternoon’s end, Christine was in a slump. The cheer had been sapped from her, despite her earlier exuberance. She sat defeated on a bench in New Orleans Square, face cradled in her hands. Even her hair lost its usual fluffy bounce, and her curls were bedraggled. Erik approached her, holding two churros from the nearby cart. Christine made no acknowledgment of him. “Christine, I acquired the confection you demanded.”
She rotated her body away from him and focused on Tom Sawyer’s Island. She watched as the raft loaded with people and drifted away from them, toward the island.  
“Christine?”
She continued to ignore him and instead gazed at all the happy families, couples, and others enjoying their time in the park.
Erik stiffly sat beside her, his body rigid in a perfect posture, holding out the churros mechanically. He stared out alongside her, in the direction of her gaze.
“Christine, you are obviously upset, and it is highly likely that the variable that caused you to be upset is me.” He took an audible breath, and continued to stare straight ahead, but Christine shifted her gaze to him. “I cannot begin to rectify the situation and my behavior if all I can infer is that you are sullen.” 
Her mouth was set in a line, not willing to smile or frown. Yes, she was irritated with him, and this false way of apologizing without outright doing it grated on her nerves. At least he was trying to be a bit more considerate to her emotions.
“Yes, Erik, I’m ‘sullen.’ Any suggestion I have, you immediately turn it into something negative. I’m trying to show you something you’ll enjoy, but you keep nit-picking and draining all the fun out of it!” 
“That’s hardly the case-” Erik began to counter, but Christine cut him off. “-YES, it is!” She stuck out her hand and began counting on her fingers all the dismissals and critiques he had. “You hated Tomorrowland because you complained about all the outdated technology and how you could create better animatronics.”
“Why have a ride that is essentially recreating the traffic we experienced to even get to this park? It’s absurd!” “You didn’t like Space Mountain because you calculated the speed and scoffed at how slow it actually was.” “It’s all illusions, Christine. It’s only 28 miles per hour-” 
She shoved another finger in his face and she continued her infraction count, “- you were utterly disinterested in Big Thunder Mountain,” “-ain’t, Christine. Thar ain’t no way that would appeal to me. And the excavation of that Tyrannosaurus is completely ludicrous-” “-You were whining all throughout ‘Galaxy’s Edge’,” “I was just saying the Empire is a bunch of fascists and the Rebels are terrorists-” “IT’S STAR WARS, ERIK!!” Christine shouted, throwing her hands up in the air. “AND THEN when we went to Critter Country,” “-crawling with tiny children I might add-” “-you described the Winnie the Pooh ride as a fevered dream you had on opium once,” “-to be fair, it was a rather good dream-” “-and then you kept saying how exploitative Song of the South was and ruined Splash Mountain. HOW DID YOU MANAGE NOT TO GET WET? I’m STILL ringing out my hair and that was nearly an hour ago!” 
“One can take a measured approach to these things, my dear-”
“-AND you would not SHUT UP about how historically inaccurate Pirates of the Caribbean was!” “NO ONE,” Erik rose to his feet, “IN THE ENTIRE WORLD, HAS EVER WORN HATS THAT LOOK LIKE BUCKETS! THERE’S NO HISTORY HERE, CHRISTINE!”
Christine jumped to her feet and stood defiantly to Erik, despite him still looming over her, “IT’S A RIDE, ERIK! IT’S MAKE BELIEVE! PRETEND! IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE FUN!!”
“BUCKET-HATS!!”
As the two of them panted in their frustrations, a baby somewhere nearby began crying. Christine broke first and flopped back down on the bench with a groan. “I just wanted you to enjoy yourself.” She slowly removed her headband and traced her fingers over the Minnie Ears. “This place means so much to me… My Dad and I would-” her nose got that peculiar warm tickle that means tears were soon to follow. She shook her head to rid herself of that anguish. “Disneyland is just my happy place, and I wanted to share that with you, too.” Erik lowered himself down onto the ground, to look up at Christine as she fought her emotions. He removed his dark sunglasses to be more open with the woman sitting in front of him. “I have been having fun,” he told her softly. “Perhaps my enjoyment of things is more unconventional, but spending this day with you is more precious to me than anything else.” A half-smile appeared on her lips. “Crowds and all?” He offered her the churro as he rose from the ground to sit beside her. “Suffocating crowds and all.” 
Christine smiled into her churro, biting into it quietly as she and Erik sat in thought. She leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. His entire body tensed and grew rigid at the sudden intimacy, but he slowly relaxed. He hesitantly lifted his arm, and with taking pause, wrapped it around Christine’s shoulders. Christine had nearly finished half of her churro before Erik finally tasted his own. The crispy sweet crust pairing with the fluffy light middle delighted him. “Christine!” He exclaimed, “these are incredible!” “Yeah, Erik. Disneyland churros are amazing. I always need to have one. OH! And the beignets, too.” “I don’t think you fully comprehend the magnificence of this pastry! It’s entirely delightful!” He took another bite, “sweet, but not overpowering!” Another bite. “The delicate taste of cinnamon!” Another, “the exquisite crunch with the decadent exterior!” 
Christine covered her mouth with her hand, struggling to keep from laughing at Erik’s sudden enthusiasm. As he continued exclaiming his delight, probably with more gusto for Christine’s benefit, the adhesive on his prosthetic nose began to disintegrate. Her amusement quickly turned into concern, knowing how poorly he would react if it fell off. “Erik,” Christine cautioned him, suddenly serious, “Erik, maybe you shouldn’t-” And that’s precisely when his nose fell into his lap. 
Erik yelped several octaves higher than Christine thought he was physically able to, clamping his hands over his face instinctively. His mustache hung limply above his thin lips, exposing the jagged scar of his former cleft palate that ran up to his nose cavity.
The cry made several people look in their direction, certainly not aiding in Erik’s mortification. “The poor guy dropped his churro!” Christine explained, putting on her Stage Voice and gesturing to the fallen delicacy. 
That seemed to satisfy the onlookers as Erik curled up on himself, hiding his face as best he could. Christine rubbed his hunched back soothingly as he silently suffered. “Shh, shh... Erik it’s okay! There’s a bathroom nearby where you can apply it again. Although honestly,” she said with a shrug, “no one will care if you don’t reapply it. There are so many people who come here with all different backgrounds and abilities that-” “Christine, save me your princess fairy tales for the moment,” Erik hissed through gritted teeth. “I’m more Victor Hugo’s Hunchback than Walt Disney’s, and people aren’t kind no matter where or when we are. Or perhaps I should just kidnap a princess into being my prisoner like some kind of Beast. That will turn out well!” 
Silenced by his sardonic words, Christine helped him to his feet, and hurried him along to the restrooms in New Orleans Square. They were mercifully close, and as Christine was just about to tell him as such, a small boy approached Erik. “Jack Skewwington!” He squealed gleefully, bouncing up and down, pointing at Erik and back at his shirt that displayed the character. 
Christine had to bite her lips to keep from laughing and making the situation worse as Erik blushed in fury. The mustache had vanished somewhere along their short walk, fully exposing Erik’s death-like face. 
The small boy hugged Erik’s spindly legs in his delight at finding the Pumpkin King. 
Erik’s jaw clenched, unsure of what to do. His hands flexed into fists at his side, wanting to throw the child off of him or pat him on the head awkwardly.
“Owen!!” Cried a nearby woman, running up to the boy. “I don’t think he likes that, honey,” She held out her hand to Owen and beckoned him back to her. “But Auntie Pwincess...” he whined taking her hand. She turned to Erik, “I’m sorry, your Disney-bound is really good. He thought you were Jack,” she said breathlessly, trying to excuse the young boy’s behavior. “It’s FINE!” Christine interjected before Erik could say anything, “he gets that all the time. You gotta keep the secret, okay?” She pressed her finger to her lips and winked at the boy. “Have a good Halloween!” She waved to the pair as Owen waved back. “Bye bye!”
Erik stood there in shock, unable to process what had happened. Christine handed him a tube of eyelash glue and his fallen nose. He took them mechanically and left to enter the restroom. After a few minutes, he returned, adjusting his sunglasses back on his face and lightly tapping his raw upper lip. A few flecks of glue remained, but only Christine would notice. “I suppose that’s what you get for wearing black pinstripes at Disneyland,” she laughed sheepishly, trying to make light of the situation.
“I’d rather not discuss it,” he said, with all of his curt authority, but there was a certain softness to his voice. “Where to next?” He asked Christine, offering his arm with jerking, stilted movements. She took it and smiled. “My favorite ride, but you have to promise not to criticize it!” Erik gave her a mock aghast look. “I would NEVER-!” “Erik. Promise me.” “Oh, all right, I promise. I’ll hold my tongue. Now which one is it?”
Christine lifted her arm to the towering manor before them. “The Haunted Mansion!”
“Haunted, hmmm? I should really leave my card if they want a proper Phantom…” Ignoring him, Christine giggled with excitement, bouncing not too unlike their little visitor from before, and dragged Erik along behind her. She was all but skipping through the Pet Cemetery and pointed out all the puns on the various tombstones and mausoleums.
“I. M. Mortal? The evidence proves the contrary, sir,” Erik said. Christine shot him a dirty look and he held up his hands in innocence. “It was a joke, Christine! They’re all deceased.” 
She narrowed her eyes at him and whipped her hair at him with a small, “hmpf!” She strolled quickly into the front doors of the mansion as a glassy eyed Castmember ushered them in with a deadpan, “look alive. Right this way.”
Erik squeezed his way past through the bodies of the crowd to get back to Christine’s side. She gazed up at the foyer in awe, excitement vibrating from her being. 
“When hinges creak in doorless chambers, and strange and frightening sounds echo through the halls.” Christine clasped her hands in giddiness, mouthing the words along with Paul Frees’s narration. “Whenever candlelights flicker where the air is deathly still — that is the time when ghosts are present, practicing their terror with ghoulish delight!” “... well I feel called out,” whispered Erik in Christine’s ear. Christine snorted in laughter.
“Welcome, foolish mortals, to the Haunted Mansion. I am your host, your Ghost Host. Kindly step all the way in please, and make room for everyone. There’s no turning back now.” One of the walls opened to reveal another room. The group shuffled their way in as another Castmember stated in the deepest voice he could muster, “Drag your bodies away from the walls and into the dead center of the room.”
“Are these puns going to continue throughout this journey?” “Yes, Erik!” Christine hissed at him in a whisper. “And if you don’t like it-” “Our tour begins here in this gallery, where you see paintings of some of our guests as they appeared in their corruptible, mortal state.”
“You misunderstand, I love it entirely.” Erik looked longingly at Christine, aching to make her happy. She inadvertently was standing similarly to the ballerina-tight rope walker portrait stretching just behind her.  
“Your cadaverous pallor betrays an aura of foreboding, almost as though you sense a disquieting metamorphosis. Is this haunted room actually stretching? Or is it your imagination — hmm?” 
“Oh. Well good!” The smile she gave him was dazzling. 
“And consider this dismaying observation: this chamber has no windows and no doors… which offers you this chilling challenge: to find a way out!” Christine echoed the laugh of the Ghost Host with chilling accuracy.  “Of course... there’s always my way-!”
Christine released a practiced blood curdling scream as lightning flashed and the hanged body of the host appeared above them. Erik jumped at her terrifying cry, but she was still smiling in delight. The lights flickered back on and a door slid open revealing another hallway in the labyrinthine manor. “Ohhh, I didn’t mean to frighten you prematurely,” Christine cooed along with the dialogue, smirking at Erik. “The real chills come later. Now, as they say, ‘look alive,’ and we’ll continue our little tour. And let’s all stay together, please.” “I was concerned about your safety,” he huffed, a slight blush rising to his sunken cheeks. He adjusted his Mickey Ears as they had skewed in his jump. “You were scared, just admit it!” Christine laughed as they walked through the hallway, where the curtained windows showed a thunderstorm raging outside the Mansion. To their right, more portraits flickered with the lightning, showing not all was as it seemed. 
“Christine,” Erik said sensibly, “a hanged body is something that does not frighten me.”
“I’m going to ignore that,” Christine told him, peering at the two busts whose faces turned to follow them down the line queue. 
“There are several prominent ghosts who have retired here from creepy old crypts all over the world. Actually, we have 999 happy haunts here — but there’s room for 1,000. Any volunteers?”
Christine nudged Erik with her elbow. “They’re looking for a new ghost. Need a new job?”
“If you insist on lagging behind, you may not need to volunteer.”
Erik tapped his finger against his lips in thought. “That’s not a bad notion…” “You’re not ACTUALLY considering it, are you Erik?” The two of them stepped onto the moving walkway and slid into their doom buggy carriage to whisk them off into the bowels of the mansion.
“Why not,” he mused. “Put my skills to the test, and so far, I am pleased with the traditional techniques they’ve been utilizing for their optical illusions.” The safety bar lowered on them, bumping against Erik’s gangling legs. “I find the older tricks are the most effective.” 
“We find it delightfully unlivable here in this ghostly retreat. Every room has wall-to-wall creeps, and hot and cold running chills. Shhh, listen!”
Their ghostly carriage rocked and swayed, providing them the direction where to look as they journeyed down the Corridor of Doors. A floating candelabra surrounded by a hall of mirrors that led to nowhere illuminated the scene to the right as groans from a moving casket cried out on their left. Leering eyes warped the wallpaper pattern into a frightful brocade as narration continued. 
Christine cooed in contentment as she leaned back in the Doom Buggy and watched the creeping horrors as they passed by. Several doors rattled and growled with threats of danger on the other side. 
“Ha! They used the effect revolutionized in ‘The Haunting,’” Erik hummed in his amusement as they passed by a particularly intimidating bulging door, the wood creaking with every ‘breath’ of movement.  “In fact,” he craned his neck around and tried to carefully observe the other doors, despite moving away from them, “this whole hallway is...a marvel...” Christine gave Erik her best vacant expression and told him, “the house is alive..!” He actually chuckled at her reference. Christine was pleased at his amusement. 
“It’s about time you found something you like-” But she was cut off by the seance Madame Leota was conducting as they swiveled into a pitch black room with instruments floating all around them. 
“OoooOooh, a medium,” Erik wiggled his spidery fingers in sarcastic spookiness, “how obnoxious,” he scoffed, but his smile remained. 
“Do not mock the great Madame Leota!” “Goblins and ghoulies from last Halloween, awaken the spirits with your tambourine!”
Their vehicle turned and face the Seer, to reveal she was not seated at her seance table in front of the crystal ball. Rather, she was a disembodied head inside the ball, floating above the table. The jingling beat of a tambourine was the response, as if the ghosts of the mansion were responding to her words. 
“Creepies and crawlies, toads in a pond, let there be music from regions beyond!” Music began to play as they were ushered from Leota’s chamber and into more darkness. Their Ghost Host whispered in their ears as they ventured deeper into the Mansion. “The happy haunts have received your sympathetic vibrations and are beginning to materialize. They’re assembling for a swinging wake, and they’ll be expecting me… I’ll see you all a little later.”
The organ music swelled around them with the melody of the mansion as ghostly apparitions began swirling in a waltz in a ballroom before them. Duelists stepped out of their portraits to fire, spirits were piling in from a crashed carriage, gathering around to feast on the rotten food on an elongated table. And a man in a top hat played the organ with great vigor, despite it being off-key. 
“The Pepper’s Ghost illusion, of course,” Erik whispered to himself.
“My favorite part!” Christine squealed in a hushed voice. “Yes,” he murmured, entranced as well, his eyes focused on the organ player, “I can see why…” Listening to the repeating music, his finger unconsciously swayed to it, as though he was conducting it and learning along. Christine hummed along, dancing in her seat as they turned away from the spectacle and into the attic, where the thudding of a heartbeat echoed in their heads. Scattered before them were portraits of various couples in their wedding attire. The woman, all the same in each one and smiling pleasantly, but every groom was different. Then, the swing of an axe, and the heads of the grooms vanished. A piano with only the shadow of a pianist played a discordant wedding march. At the end of the attic, was Constance Hatchaway, the bride herself, in her glowing ethereal splendor. “I do,” she whispered innocently, her bouquet revealing an axe, “...and I did,” she hissed, the axe shining with light. “Here comes the bride…”
“I know I’m desperate,” Erik remarked, “but I’m not that desperate for a bride.” 
Christine scoffed, “you sure about that? OH! HERE HE IS! THE HATBOX GHOST!”
Christine leaned forward as they left the attic and a ghost with skeletal features, not too unlike the man sitting next to her, appeared. He wore a magnificent top hat and a hatbox hung from his hand. His eyes looked suspiciously around before he laughed sinisterly. His face suddenly vanished from his body and reappeared inside his hatbox.
Their carriage tilted backward away from the mansion and into the backyard cemetery. Christine laughed and clapped her hands in delight.  
“What was so remarkable about him?” Erik puzzled. 
“The rumor of the Hatbox Ghost is amazing! He was put into the Mansion on the opening days, but then he vanished!” “The animatronic… vanished?” “Yes! They never saw it again! They just put him back in a couple of years ago. But can you imagine? Almost fifty years without Hattie and his image is all through the mansion! But now he’s back and better than ever!” The recurring music suddenly shifted from melancholy and dour to exuberant and lively. A raven cawed at them during their descent out of the main house and into the graveyard. They passed the terrified groundskeeper and his dog, both trembling in fear as the ghosts and corpses rose from their graves to have a frightening soiree.  
Christine bounced along to the music and sang along to the macabre choir, 
“When the crypt doors creak and the tombstones quake,
Spooks come out for a swinging wake.
Happy haunts materialize and begin to vocalize. 
Grim grinning ghosts come out to socialize!
Now, don’t close your eyes and don’t try to hide,
For a silly spook may sit by your side.
Shrouded in a daft disguise, they pretend to terrorize.
Grim grinning ghosts come out to socialize!
As the moon climbs high o’er the dead oak tree,
Spooks arrive for the midnight spree.
Creepy creeps with eerie eyes start to shriek and harmonize.
Grim grinning ghosts come out to socialize!
When you hear the knell of a requiem bell,
Weird glows gleam where spirits dwell.
Restless bones etherealize, rise as spooks of every size!
She cackled and continued right from the top again. Ghosts popped up from behind tombstones, a Mummy was having tea, four busts sang very expressively, and several opera singers belted out their tunes. 
Erik nudged his elbow against Christine and nodded to a large woman’s ghost with long Valkyrie braids, projecting out her notes. “I wasn’t aware Carlotta was employed here!”
Christine sputtered in laughter as they left the graveyard only to be accosted by three hitchhiking ghosts, thumbing their way out. 
“Ah, there you are!” The Ghost Host’s voice cooed, “and just in time… there’s a little matter I forgot to mention — beware of hitchhiking ghosts! They have selected you to fill our quota, and they’ll haunt you until you return! Now I will raise the safety bar, and a ghost will follow you home!”
Christine wiggled in her seat, eagerly peering in the mirrors displayed before them to see which ghost would select them. However, all that they saw were their own reflections, Erik doing everything he could to avoid looking at himself “That’s odd… it must be down… usually a ghost appears next to you…” She looked over at Erik, who shrugged in response. 
“...nevermind, a ghost is next to me,” she commented dryly. 
A lulling melody lured them out of their Doom Buggy as the bar lifted and they stepped out onto the moving platform. Christine looked back as her palm sought the handrail, carrying them back up to the world above. “Hurry baaaack… Hurry baaaack…” The small bride-like figure of Little Leota taunted them as they headed upward. Erik rested his hand on Christine’s shoulder. “Oh, we plan to.” Christine gasped in delight, her eyes sparkling with unmitigated joy. “Again?”
Erik nodded, “how else am I to construct a summer home?”
180 notes · View notes
j-ojoxiii · 5 years
Text
Follow Me || Hongjoong (ATEEZ)
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Pairing: Mad Hatter! Hongjoong x reader
Genre: Fluff, some angst
Warnings: none
Summary: In a world far different and far darker from your own, you find your light in a man who everyone calls “Mad”.
Notes: Inspired by the song “Follow Me Down” by 3OH!3 //Highly recommend
(Y/N) = Your Name
Total word count: 1,766
             “Where am I?”
             You were lost. Horribly lost in a world you had never seen before. Animals and flowers talked, drinks and food could change your height, dangerous beast in strange places. In other words, this was a nightmare if you had seen any.
             Nothing felt safe. You had met the White Rabbit and he made it feel like one wrong turn could lead to death. The Red Queen was proof that the Rabbit could very well have been correct. You barely escaped her with your head on your shoulders. It was like everything in Wonderland was out to get you.
~
             You were currently on your way to seek solace in the court of the White Queen. You had heard that she had kindness like no other. You wanted to be safe again after days of running. You hadn’t found a way out of Wonderland, so you wanted to be safe with her. Even if you never found a way out.
             “(Y/N)…”
             You whipped your head in every direction after hearing something whisper your name. There was no one around for miles in the dark and tangled forest.
             “(Y/N)...”
             “C-Cheshire, is that you? This isn’t funny…Come out.”
             You had met the Cheshire Cat a few times before and you knew that he was rather playful. He liked to disappear and leave you guessing. But it couldn’t have been him, now, could it? He would have shown up by now—or at least spoken as he seemed to love the sound of his own voice.
             Your name was called a few more times and you realized that it was coming past the tree line. You edged closer, leaving the path to see if there was something. Indeed, there was.
             Many dark shapes moved in the underbrush, eyes glowing in the mist, and odd shapes protruding off of them. They looked like tree roots from first glance, but they looked terrifying closer up. None of them looked to be friendly with how they snapped their jaws and attempted to charge you, menacing growls passing their mouths.
             You knew that you needed to run, but your legs wouldn’t obey. Nothing would. You were going to die.
             A louder, more sudden noise caught your and the monsters’ attention as something seemed to be crashing through the foliage. The shape of whatever it was appeared humanoid and colorful; a stark contrast to everything around it.
             A young man came into view at a rapid speed. He grabbed your arm and yelled a hurried “Follow me” before tugging you along back down the path.
             Together, the two of you ran as fast as you could as the creatures trailed behind with a chorus of wailing to remind you of the threat they posed. You wanted to close your eyes and then wake up from this dream. You wanted to go home and forget the horrors of Wonderland.
~
             Forever seemed to pass before you both came to a stop, finally safe from the creatures that had tried to follow. You were out of the forest and the beasts had given up.
             You collapsed to the ground, your body burning and begging to rest.
             “Are you alright?” Asked the young man with concern in his voice.
             You lifted your eyes to finally take a good look at him. He looked around your age, youthful features that said he couldn’t be much older than early 20’s. He had bright red hair and two-toned eyes, colorful clothes, and a top hat. It was a rather…eclectic look, but it worked for him.
             “You don’t seem injured…” He said as he took it upon himself to inspect you as you were still rendered speechless.
             “What…were those?” You finally croaked out, air still finding its way back into your lungs.
             The man paused and hummed softly to himself, his eyes softening considerably when he looked back up at you. You wondered if he could see through you.    
             “You’re not from around here, are you?”
             You shook your head “no” in response. To him, you were the cutest thing he had ever seen. He found himself wanting to take care of you and to keep you safe. How else would you survive?
             “They were Boojums. Horrid things. You would have disappeared had I not found you.”
             “Thank you, I suppose.”
             He grinned, seeming proud of himself to doing something so heroic.
             “Why, yes. Now, let’s get you to where you’re heading. To which way?”
             He gestured to the split path ahead that would either take you to the White Palace or to somewhere else you had not intended to go.
             “I’m going to the White Queen’s Palace.” You said softly.
             “Ah. Follow me.”
             What comforted you the most in your time in this odd place was his smile. It was so warm and welcoming and, in a way, safe.
~
             From there, he was your travelling companion. At first you were unsure of the young man, but he soon made you rethink that. He was sweeter than sugar and he loved to make you laugh. Sometimes, he’d purposefully make a fool of himself at an impromptu teatime just to see you smile—especially if something had scared you. You liked it best when he sang to you because his voice was enough to calm your nerves. That, and his ears would always tinge with pink when you asked.
             You had learned that he was known as the “Mad Hatter” and that his real name was Hongjoong. You personally liked his real name better and you didn’t know it, but he loved it when you said it. He loved you, really.
             You had also learned that you had gotten off the path at some point and so the two of you had to find a new way to get to the Palace. Some of the route was dangerous, but he was there to lead you through it with a determined “Follow me” before you both hurried forward.
             Arriving at the palace was a happy time. You could finally relax, and everyone greeted you as one of their own. Well, it was happy until it was time for Hongjoong to part ways. He couldn’t stay as the Palace wasn’t a place here he felt like he could belong. Everyone was quiet and he was a chaotic ray of sunshine. Never had you been so sad.
             He spent a while with you, tucked away somewhere quiet so the two of you could say your goodbyes. It was the first time you really saw him frown with sadness. You had seen him worry or upset, but never sad. He didn’t want to leave you, but he did. He left you with a gentle kiss and a “take care, love” before he was gone from your side.
 ~
             It had been weeks since you saw the Hatter. You missed him greatly and you wished for nothing more than to see him again. You had spent countless nights waiting on the balcony of your room, hoping to see him coming down the long path to the Palace. Your worries about the dangers of Wonderland were replaced with worries about him. Was he safe? Did he miss you like you missed him? There was no way to tell.
             Your sleep had been restless, and you often forgot that coming out of your room was an option. The Queen took it upon herself to look after you. She was kind enough to take time out of her day to comfort you. She became a great friend to you. You could tell her anything and she’d do what she could to make it better. You couldn’t thank her enough.
 ~
             Just when you had started to give up on the possibility that you would never see Hongjoong again, you were proven wrong.
             It had been a beautiful day out and you decided that a stroll through the Queen’s garden would do you some good. It was peaceful and serene, much like the rest of the castle, but this was even more so. You often came out here to think and it really helped.
             That peace came to a halt when you reached the veranda. Why?
                                             You saw him.
             Hongjoong stood with his back to you, dressed in his colorful clothing, and tending to the flowers that grew in their hanging pots. He didn’t seem to notice you but when he did, his smile was blinding.          
             “Hello, love.” He said softly, his smile making obvious that he was beyond happy to see you in good health.
             You didn’t say anything. Instead, you ran to him and launched yourself into his awaiting arms. His hug was tight and secure. He spun you once, the both of you laughing as you went. Gosh, you missed his laugh.
             “I missed you.” You finally said into his shoulder.              
             He stroked your hair and pressed little kisses to your hairline. Such little gestures made your heart flutter.
             “I missed you, too, my dearest (Y/N). Far more than you could imagine.”
             The two of you stood in each other’s arms for who knows how long until he pulled away to see you. His eyes held the stars in them, leaving you wishing that you could always look into them. Those two-toned eyes closed before soft lips captured your own. You knew in that moment that he was yours just like you were his.
 ~
             When it came time for him to leave again, he didn’t go alone. You wouldn’t allow it. You had set aside your fears of the world outside the Palace and put your trust in him. You knew he’d protect you and you dreaded to let him go away without you again. He was all for the idea.
             “Are you sure, my dear?” He had asked, his hand holding onto yours. In a way, he feared you would turn back.
             “I’m sure. Wherever you are is where I want to be.” Was your reply.
             The Hatter gave a laugh and laced your fingers with his. His lips pulled back into that beautiful smile of his and his eyes formed into little crescents; happiness in its purest form.
             Hongjoong leaned down and pressed his lips to the corner of your mouth before the two of you began your journey to who knows where.
             “Follow me.”
//Yet another one of my babies <3 I swear I’m loyal to Seonghwa...But Hongjoong...KHAGSRKVAGWEKJGRAKEVSJGRAL
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CHAPTER VII. A Mad Tea-Party
There was a table set out under a tree in front of the house, and the March Hare and the Hatter were having tea at it: a Dormouse was sitting between them, fast asleep, and the other two were using it as a cushion, resting their elbows on it, and talking over its head. ‘Very uncomfortable for the Dormouse,’ thought Alice; ‘only, as it’s asleep, I suppose it doesn’t mind.’
The table was a large one, but the three were all crowded together at one corner of it: ‘No room! No room!’ they cried out when they saw Alice coming. ‘There’s plenty of room!’ said Alice indignantly, and she sat down in a large arm-chair at one end of the table.
‘Have some wine,’ the March Hare said in an encouraging tone.
Alice looked all round the table, but there was nothing on it but tea. ‘I don’t see any wine,’ she remarked.
‘There isn’t any,’ said the March Hare.
‘Then it wasn’t very civil of you to offer it,’ said Alice angrily.
‘It wasn’t very civil of you to sit down without being invited,’ said the March Hare.
‘I didn’t know it was your table,’ said Alice; ‘it’s laid for a great many more than three.’
‘Your hair wants cutting,’ said the Hatter. He had been looking at Alice for some time with great curiosity, and this was his first speech.
‘You should learn not to make personal remarks,’ Alice said with some severity; ‘it’s very rude.’
The Hatter opened his eyes very wide on hearing this; but all he said was, ‘Why is a raven like a writing-desk?’
‘Come, we shall have some fun now!’ thought Alice. ‘I’m glad they’ve begun asking riddles.—I believe I can guess that,’ she added aloud.
‘Do you mean that you think you can find out the answer to it?’ said the March Hare.
‘Exactly so,’ said Alice.
‘Then you should say what you mean,’ the March Hare went on.
‘I do,’ Alice hastily replied; ‘at least—at least I mean what I say—that’s the same thing, you know.’
‘Not the same thing a bit!’ said the Hatter. ‘You might just as well say that “I see what I eat” is the same thing as “I eat what I see”!’
‘You might just as well say,’ added the March Hare, ‘that “I like what I get” is the same thing as “I get what I like”!’
‘You might just as well say,’ added the Dormouse, who seemed to be talking in his sleep, ‘that “I breathe when I sleep” is the same thing as “I sleep when I breathe”!’
‘It is the same thing with you,’ said the Hatter, and here the conversation dropped, and the party sat silent for a minute, while Alice thought over all she could remember about ravens and writing-desks, which wasn’t much.
The Hatter was the first to break the silence. ‘What day of the month is it?’ he said, turning to Alice: he had taken his watch out of his pocket, and was looking at it uneasily, shaking it every now and then, and holding it to his ear.
Alice considered a little, and then said ‘The fourth.’
‘Two days wrong!’ sighed the Hatter. ‘I told you butter wouldn’t suit the works!’ he added looking angrily at the March Hare.
‘It was the best butter,’ the March Hare meekly replied.
‘Yes, but some crumbs must have got in as well,’ the Hatter grumbled: ‘you shouldn’t have put it in with the bread-knife.’
The March Hare took the watch and looked at it gloomily: then he dipped it into his cup of tea, and looked at it again: but he could think of nothing better to say than his first remark, ‘It was the best butter, you know.’
Alice had been looking over his shoulder with some curiosity. ‘What a funny watch!’ she remarked. ‘It tells the day of the month, and doesn’t tell what o’clock it is!’
‘Why should it?’ muttered the Hatter. ‘Does your watch tell you what year it is?’
‘Of course not,’ Alice replied very readily: ‘but that’s because it stays the same year for such a long time together.’
‘Which is just the case with mine,’ said the Hatter.
Alice felt dreadfully puzzled. The Hatter’s remark seemed to have no sort of meaning in it, and yet it was certainly English. ‘I don’t quite understand you,’ she said, as politely as she could.
‘The Dormouse is asleep again,’ said the Hatter, and he poured a little hot tea upon its nose.
The Dormouse shook its head impatiently, and said, without opening its eyes, ‘Of course, of course; just what I was going to remark myself.’
‘Have you guessed the riddle yet?’ the Hatter said, turning to Alice again.
‘No, I give it up,’ Alice replied: ‘what’s the answer?’
‘I haven’t the slightest idea,’ said the Hatter.
‘Nor I,’ said the March Hare.
Alice sighed wearily. ‘I think you might do something better with the time,’ she said, ‘than waste it in asking riddles that have no answers.’
‘If you knew Time as well as I do,’ said the Hatter, ‘you wouldn’t talk about wasting it. It’s him.’
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ said Alice.
‘Of course you don’t!’ the Hatter said, tossing his head contemptuously. ‘I dare say you never even spoke to Time!’
‘Perhaps not,’ Alice cautiously replied: ‘but I know I have to beat time when I learn music.’
‘Ah! that accounts for it,’ said the Hatter. ‘He won’t stand beating. Now, if you only kept on good terms with him, he’d do almost anything you liked with the clock. For instance, suppose it were nine o’clock in the morning, just time to begin lessons: you’d only have to whisper a hint to Time, and round goes the clock in a twinkling! Half-past one, time for dinner!’
(‘I only wish it was,’ the March Hare said to itself in a whisper.)
‘That would be grand, certainly,’ said Alice thoughtfully: ‘but then—I shouldn’t be hungry for it, you know.’
‘Not at first, perhaps,’ said the Hatter: ‘but you could keep it to half-past one as long as you liked.’
‘Is that the way you manage?’ Alice asked.
The Hatter shook his head mournfully. ‘Not I!’ he replied. ‘We quarrelled last March—just before he went mad, you know—’ (pointing with his tea spoon at the March Hare,) ‘—it was at the great concert given by the Queen of Hearts, and I had to sing
    “Twinkle, twinkle, little bat!     How I wonder what you’re at!”
You know the song, perhaps?’
‘I’ve heard something like it,’ said Alice.
‘It goes on, you know,’ the Hatter continued, ‘in this way:—
    “Up above the world you fly,     Like a tea-tray in the sky.         Twinkle, twinkle—“’
Here the Dormouse shook itself, and began singing in its sleep ‘Twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, twinkle—’ and went on so long that they had to pinch it to make it stop.
‘Well, I’d hardly finished the first verse,’ said the Hatter, ‘when the Queen jumped up and bawled out, “He’s murdering the time! Off with his head!”’
‘How dreadfully savage!’ exclaimed Alice.
‘And ever since that,’ the Hatter went on in a mournful tone, ‘he won’t do a thing I ask! It’s always six o’clock now.’
A bright idea came into Alice’s head. ‘Is that the reason so many tea-things are put out here?’ she asked.
‘Yes, that’s it,’ said the Hatter with a sigh: ‘it’s always tea-time, and we’ve no time to wash the things between whiles.’
‘Then you keep moving round, I suppose?’ said Alice.
‘Exactly so,’ said the Hatter: ‘as the things get used up.’
‘But what happens when you come to the beginning again?’ Alice ventured to ask.
‘Suppose we change the subject,’ the March Hare interrupted, yawning. ‘I’m getting tired of this. I vote the young lady tells us a story.’
‘I’m afraid I don’t know one,’ said Alice, rather alarmed at the proposal.
‘Then the Dormouse shall!’ they both cried. ‘Wake up, Dormouse!’ And they pinched it on both sides at once.
The Dormouse slowly opened his eyes. ‘I wasn’t asleep,’ he said in a hoarse, feeble voice: ‘I heard every word you fellows were saying.’
‘Tell us a story!’ said the March Hare.
‘Yes, please do!’ pleaded Alice.
‘And be quick about it,’ added the Hatter, ‘or you’ll be asleep again before it’s done.’
‘Once upon a time there were three little sisters,’ the Dormouse began in a great hurry; ‘and their names were Elsie, Lacie, and Tillie; and they lived at the bottom of a well—’
‘What did they live on?’ said Alice, who always took a great interest in questions of eating and drinking.
‘They lived on treacle,’ said the Dormouse, after thinking a minute or two.
‘They couldn’t have done that, you know,’ Alice gently remarked; ‘they’d have been ill.’
‘So they were,’ said the Dormouse; ‘very ill.’
Alice tried to fancy to herself what such an extraordinary ways of living would be like, but it puzzled her too much, so she went on: ‘But why did they live at the bottom of a well?’
‘Take some more tea,’ the March Hare said to Alice, very earnestly.
‘I’ve had nothing yet,’ Alice replied in an offended tone, ‘so I can’t take more.’
‘You mean you can’t take less,’ said the Hatter: ‘it’s very easy to take more than nothing.’
‘Nobody asked your opinion,’ said Alice.
‘Who’s making personal remarks now?’ the Hatter asked triumphantly.
Alice did not quite know what to say to this: so she helped herself to some tea and bread-and-butter, and then turned to the Dormouse, and repeated her question. ‘Why did they live at the bottom of a well?’
The Dormouse again took a minute or two to think about it, and then said, ‘It was a treacle-well.’
‘There’s no such thing!’ Alice was beginning very angrily, but the Hatter and the March Hare went ‘Sh! sh!’ and the Dormouse sulkily remarked, ‘If you can’t be civil, you’d better finish the story for yourself.’
‘No, please go on!’ Alice said very humbly; ‘I won’t interrupt again. I dare say there may be one.’
‘One, indeed!’ said the Dormouse indignantly. However, he consented to go on. ‘And so these three little sisters—they were learning to draw, you know—’
‘What did they draw?’ said Alice, quite forgetting her promise.
‘Treacle,’ said the Dormouse, without considering at all this time.
‘I want a clean cup,’ interrupted the Hatter: ‘let’s all move one place on.’
He moved on as he spoke, and the Dormouse followed him: the March Hare moved into the Dormouse’s place, and Alice rather unwillingly took the place of the March Hare. The Hatter was the only one who got any advantage from the change: and Alice was a good deal worse off than before, as the March Hare had just upset the milk-jug into his plate.
Alice did not wish to offend the Dormouse again, so she began very cautiously: ‘But I don’t understand. Where did they draw the treacle from?’
‘You can draw water out of a water-well,’ said the Hatter; ‘so I should think you could draw treacle out of a treacle-well—eh, stupid?’
‘But they were in the well,’ Alice said to the Dormouse, not choosing to notice this last remark.
‘Of course they were’, said the Dormouse; ‘—well in.’
This answer so confused poor Alice, that she let the Dormouse go on for some time without interrupting it.
‘They were learning to draw,’ the Dormouse went on, yawning and rubbing its eyes, for it was getting very sleepy; ‘and they drew all manner of things—everything that begins with an M—’
‘Why with an M?’ said Alice.
‘Why not?’ said the March Hare.
Alice was silent.
The Dormouse had closed its eyes by this time, and was going off into a doze; but, on being pinched by the Hatter, it woke up again with a little shriek, and went on: ‘—that begins with an M, such as mouse-traps, and the moon, and memory, and muchness—you know you say things are “much of a muchness”—did you ever see such a thing as a drawing of a muchness?’
‘Really, now you ask me,’ said Alice, very much confused, ‘I don’t think—’
‘Then you shouldn’t talk,’ said the Hatter.
This piece of rudeness was more than Alice could bear: she got up in great disgust, and walked off; the Dormouse fell asleep instantly, and neither of the others took the least notice of her going, though she looked back once or twice, half hoping that they would call after her: the last time she saw them, they were trying to put the Dormouse into the teapot.
‘At any rate I’ll never go there again!’ said Alice as she picked her way through the wood. ‘It’s the stupidest tea-party I ever was at in all my life!’
Just as she said this, she noticed that one of the trees had a door leading right into it. ‘That’s very curious!’ she thought. ‘But everything’s curious today. I think I may as well go in at once.’ And in she went.
Once more she found herself in the long hall, and close to the little glass table. ‘Now, I’ll manage better this time,’ she said to herself, and began by taking the little golden key, and unlocking the door that led into the garden. Then she went to work nibbling at the mushroom (she had kept a piece of it in her pocket) till she was about a foot high: then she walked down the little passage: and then—she found herself at last in the beautiful garden, among the bright flower-beds and the cool fountains.
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voltagefangirl19 · 5 years
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Too Late (kbtbb fic)
Summary: In an AU where MC (Sakurai Yuuki) helps all bidders but doesn’t start an immediate relationship with neither, she gets kidnapped by a very resourceful and strong Mafia. Are the bidders able to save her on time?   Genre: angst Masterpost
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She tries to breathe, that’s all she can do in the middle of the darkness and confusion, after all. To keep her mind busy, she starts counting the seconds, remembering how she got into the situation she’s currently in
Today is the IVC, it has been several months since the managers bought me in the illegal auction I, accidentally, stumbled in. So much has happened since then... I can’t stop reminiscing while working in one of the guest’s room: From when I helped Ichinomiya to make a deal with an Italian mob pretending to be his girlfriend to when I posed as MayLee Ling, one Chinese mob boss’ daughter that was under Soryu’s protection and I turned out to be her tour guide when she was in Japan, ‘At the end I think we end up as good friends’. My little and discreet smile at my memories transforms into a giggle as I remember how I got to be Baba’s partner in crime and Ota’s pet, not that it bothers me really, I just wish that the little artist would be more honest with himself, like when he got his art stolen, he was upset, but he didn’t say anything, it was good that he got the recognition he deserved afterward though, ‘after all, the bluebird was gorgeous’, I think while I enter my last room and start cleaning, it’s a bit messy, but nothing like Mamoru’s apartment, which I had to clean after the whole cult thing because how anyone can live like that? it really amazes me until now
As the memories keep flowing through my mind, a new coworker enters the room “Wow, you do a great job indeed, no wonder why you are the penthouse maid Sakurai” his comment is a bit odd, but I take it as a compliment anyway “Thank you!, you see, working in this hotel is no easy job, but it’s very rewarding” I say in a peaceful voice, but he looks more interested in the VIPs, of course I understand, it’s not like you always are close to the rich and famous, so while I continue cleaning, the new one keeps asking me about how they are, if it’s true that the CEO is living in the hotel, if it’s really Ota Kisaki who is staying here, etc. I remain careful to not tell anything dangerous though, those guys trust me, even if I don’t know why, but I want to keep it that way.  We start walking through the hallway and I try to think an excuse to drove him away when the pager does that for me “Sorry, I gotta go” I say just as I feel the vibration in my pocket  “Oh… sure I mean… let’s talk more later” that’s the last thing I hear him saying
I arrive at the lounge a bit before the 5 min rule ends “What’s up?” I ask casually, with all the things that had happened, I don’t see them only as my bosses or ‘owners’, but as friends. “Coffee” Eisuke answers with his usual expression, I roll my eyes but smile inwardly, I am used to it. I make a cup for everybody and put them on the table in front of the bidders, I stand next to them.  “Anything else I can do for you?” I smile, for some reason, I’m really relaxed and happy “Did something happened today Yuuki? You are oddly cheerful this morning” Baba says with his usual gentlemanly tone.  “Yeah, did someone declared to you or something?” Ota asks teasingly  “O-of course not! I- I was just remembering all the time we’ve spent together, that’s all” I explain, my face feels warm, which is really embarrassing… But, I really wouldn’t mind if he did declare to me, to be honest; Even though I like all the bidders the same there’s one that makes my heart beat fast, yet my love is purely platonic, with zero probabilities that he would take me seriously. I try to stay away from depressing thoughts by asking them again after making sure all of them have coffee in their cups “Anything else you need?”  “You’ll accompany us to the auction tonight, be sure to wear something appropriate if you don’t have any we can buy you something” king Eisuke says while looking at some documents  “Understood” I answer with a smile and finally get out, I doubt that my heart would be able to resist any more time with him there; I let a sigh of unrequited love and get back to work with the satisfaction of being able to see him at least once in the day, I make a mental note to look out for a beautiful outfit for the night.
 Through the lace that’s covering her eyes, the girl sees a light, interrupting the darkness as well as any form of thought  “So she is the special one huh?” a deep and creepy voice sounds close   “We are certain that she is their protected, we think that the clients are going to be pleased with the product and with her origins” another deep voice answers ’who are they?’ ’What are they going to do with me’ ’how can I escape’ are the only things that fill her mind 
While she is busy trying to listen and feel anything that can mean her to escape, the two other men walk aside to discuss the types of clients, the starting bidding and most important… how are they going to get her out of the Three Spades Hotel before the auctioneers know who’s the person being sold “We must do it quickly, she has to be the very first item to be auctioned, because, if I know them, and I am certain that I do, they won’t compromise the entire mad hatter’s party just for a tiny guess” The older man said very confident “Also I need two or three of your men to act as eyes, and if the case presents, as a distraction inside the hotel” “Alright… what about the Ice Dragons?” “They already checked and interviewed our double, they won’t realize until is too late, but if you aren’t sure enough, the double will be in the buyer car at the checkout point, then we will be waiting for three blocks ahead to make the exchange, we will take her out in the trunk” The younger man was about to make a comment when they heard a commotion behind them, the girl was a troublemaker  “Tie her tighter” the young boss says, his men do as they are told and she can’t move anymore because it only makes the ropes cut more into her wrists and ankles, which is very painful. The other businessman comes closer, looks at her struggling and smile, it’s a twisted and lustful smile “A fighter one huh? those are exactly my type, shame that I have to give her away… the virgins are the ones they pay for the most” “Take her away and prepare her, she has to look like the double” the men obey; after they are gone, the boss looks over at the older man with curiosity “You are taking a hell of a lot of risks here, why don’t just kidnap and sell her in the other black market auction directly?” “It wouldn’t be nearly as fun as to see their distressed and frustrated faces when they realize that she was in the auction and they could’ve saved her, but they didn’t” “You really want to get revenge on them, don’t you?” “Oh... The revenge part is only to take away their protected one and to make her suffer while I make a lot of money, this? this is just personal fun” The man says while his twisted smile grows wider.
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fathersappointed · 3 years
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Mad Hatter: Have I gone mad?
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So you think you’re a Romeo. You’re playing a part in a picture show We take the long way home. Take the long way home ’cause you’re the joke of the neighborhood. Why should you care if you’re feeling good We take the long way home take the long way home.
Mad Hatter: Have I gone mad?
Alice: I’m afraid so. You’re entirely bonkers. But I’ll tell you a secret. All the best people are. Tried so hard to make you see But I couldn’t find the words Now the tears they fall like rain I’m Alone again Alone again Alone again…without you
Have I lost my mind and gone mad? Let me look there it is looking, sad on the ground let me pick it back up and put it in! Well, it seemed almost like pieces fell down from the ceiling so I bent down and picked up the pieces. With no concern really I put the pieces in the puzzle. I looked at the puzzle and a stunned petrifying feeling of horror-filled every part of my body and then my smile turned into a horrifying face. When my mind started reeling, I knew our situation was bad. I couldn’t even imagine what I saw I was stunned horrified. When I put the last piece into the puzzle, all the pieces fit, and the picture was mind-chilling horrifying. I’ve told you from the beginning you’re being deceived, People, and I knew the situation was bad. I wish you were up but I have no idea when you’ll be able to come to a true understanding of who you are and what’s going on in our existence on this isolated planet.
I have forgotten, the price of admission pop in a quarter I’ll tell you a story. This all happened when I was a young man, a teenager when you’re first learning to drive a car. You know how it is we were young and thought we were Rebels. And you know how teenagers will go they’ll have their drinking parties and flare-ups and they want to go for a drive.
I’ll never forget her demeanor, gentle a kind of gentle innocence of a smart little twelve-year-old that knew too much for her Age. She said please we have, a problem, you have a friend who was in terrible serious trouble, and he would die a horrible death. Not too much later, maybe a half-hour and the young girl appeared again and said, what have you done, you let him get away and she vanished. He killed my friend that night in a car accident and he killed another person. That was a sweet12-year-old little girl and he took the leg of another girl. After I realized what had happened and how I had failed to save my friend. I realized the little girl I had envisioned in my vision wanting me to stop my friend was the same little girl he killed that night in that car.
I’ll tell you why this story is this is not the only story he’s done this to me with other friends other families people I don’t know and only met He’s done this close to my whole life he knows who I am and he likes to remind me that I’m powerless to do anything to stop him. And as I’ve said before, you just can’t see it, but I will not accept this they’ll be a time it cannot be stopped. I don’t take any of this lightly, and my focus is on them
They Cometh Destruction, despair, then your God the Devil cometh. Christ with his Apostles, you will see bursting into the air a projection like a big screen without edges. Colorful intensity beyond compare. Christ with Anime eyes will hold you mesmerized. With soft kind words, your hands will be clasped, filled with joy. Your fate sealed.
The Devil once look at me through the eyes of another and said, I like to watch them quiver. When he said that I thought it meant kind of shaking!
It’s hate that attacks me but I don’t hold a candle to you the truth crushed. The Devil plays a tricky game with me and he wants me in the game. 
Well, this challenge is indeed challenging. This presents me with some confusion to work out. Breakdown the math together he can kill me, but he doesn’t? He can’t kill me, but he’d like to? He can kill me but he wants this and he knows I am the chosen player so he can’t kill me. I think the answer is I’m the only one that knows the answer I’m the only one who knows they’re here.
He needs me functional either that or he’s the Evilest Bloodthirsty Killer, in existence. That happens to be a bad Marksman who can’t hit his Target?
Unfortunately, you can’t Kung Fu do mathematics. I use high math you can’t you won’t be able to follow this in an absolute understanding because I use math the world can’t comprehend even the brightest scientists I know that sounds like I don’t know stupid egotistical crap, of a scientist but, we’re going to have to run with it. You’ll see it anyhow it just won’t compute. It’s kind of like looking at the brightest scientist math on a chalkboard board. You can see the numbers are clear as day, but they might as well be hieroglyphics If you can’t read that either.
What I use incorporates hieroglyphics hydrographic, scientific equations and when you see it it looks, like simple words of Ridiculousness like scribble math geniuses do on Chalkboards I know I can’t do either hieroglyphic or Brainiac math. I don’t get mad at The Brainiac in front of the chalkboard. I get mad at myself for not being able to understand anything not that it helps! You have no understanding of the monumental frustration See, the problem I have, and this is going to sound insulting, is I sound stupid to dumb people. Never confuse education with intelligence somebody should have told you it’s not the same thing.
Now understand this has nothing to do with you. I could be sitting in front of the stupidest person in the world and the smartest. And they’re going to walk out the door with the exact same thinking. Is a stupid guy as smart as a smart guy or is the smart guy as stupid as a stupid guy? It doesn’t matter this affects something that rides above the education field. Like I say you don’t understand the math.
Now I can be on both sides of the argument with this. Any answer would be the same God the Devil yes no it doesn’t matter. I’m sitting with a group of religious people and with a group of atheists. Together they going to walk out with the same mindset they have when they walk in regardless of their intelligence level It rides above the intelligence level. Or maybe it’s under it. What you can’t comprehend is the Scientific Technology they’re using! Understanding they modified it. 
If I can get you to understand my math, you would be able to see it. It’s not about if you’re stupid or smart. Before you can read me, you have to learn how to see me.
If you have the wisdom to see, what I offer you is the key!
I offered it to the world.
Take it, it’s yours, but alas, you throw your noses up and walk away.
You cannot see the math I, know the equation, this equation needs an x w. wisdom. 
Which, you refuse like bad little computers to accept it.
I see you down on your knees begging God for understanding, I can’t reach you yet, but I won’t give up trying. You don’t understand, he’s your killer he looks at you with a gleam.
I never speak about me you don’t even see my picture. One of the reasons you don’t see me on my site is it’s not about me. It’s about my message that’s what’s important.
There’s a whole planet of people on their knees, and there isn’t a single person in the entire world asking why? Not one single scientist is trying to find this group. Why?
I don’t know what else to say, I’ve given you the bandwidth. I’ve told you where they attack in the brain And I told you how they do it. They using technology to communicate they use technology to attack. And I can’t get the attention of one intelligent person in the entire f****** world there’s something seriously wrong about that. But I know that looks perfectly normal natural hunky-dory time to eat a banana monkey. I tell you something this group, modified your DNA. Billions of people around the world on their knees saying God, Allah, Christ, Devil, Extraterrestrials, Shiva are talking in their heads. And you’re upset because you don’t understand why they canceled your TV show. What do they do instead they put the guy on the money never, seen the inside of a hospital, yeah the entire country on their knees. I’ve had my stuff up for years in the most preponderance I can get is when I’m going to put PayPal on! I got news for you this notes this notes for you. You don’t know me and quite frankly Scarlett I don’t give a damn The only thing I care about is the absolutely impossible and that is to wake you up, wake you up to the fact that’s not your God or Allah, whoever you want to call it. It a cold-blooded entity of hate, and it’s standing right behind you breathing down your neck smiling, and you don’t have a clue I’m right, you’re wrong end of the story. Suck it up, and understand you’ve been played for a fool, and you’re being set up to die. I admit that I was a fool, actually, I was a fool twice. I was the fool the first time because I did what they wanted, and I read the book with curiosity I Was a Fool the second time when Christ appeared in front of me. But I was a smart man the third time (a Simplicity of encounters) I am Our Father’s Appointed and I stand alone. I Endeavor to wake up a sleeping world. I will say it again, people, this is not mystical mysticism, this is an absolute understanding of science! I believe therefore they can be detected we can find them we can rout them out! We have to start getting ready they are coming.
Ape-man your daddy God’s your daddy. Meanwhile, another guy pointing and laughing at you because he knows E.T.’S his daddy?
I say, Our Father is a highly intelligent being that came from a higher dimension to terraform, the solar system. And I tell you, that ship was taking in a cunning manipulated move. And the entity that had overpowered members of the crew this entity was using members of that crew to manipulate you into believing that your daddy was the ape-man God and ET so he can manipulate you in a position to kill you and I’m a raving lunatic?
I Stand Alone but I stand with knowledge.
I can find more people in this world that think that their minds king shit but I can’t find one f****** intelligent person in the entire Plane? And I’ve been looking for f****** years. I will speak to no egotistical idiot!
I’m not going to win this war the smartest person on the f****** planets an idiot.
He thinks he’s real smart though because he can count past 7.
The hardest thing in the world to do, is teaching a man who thinks he’s smart that he’s stupid?
I don’t have all the answers I know how to look for them but I’m not going to have the time.
I’ll tell you something you know nothing I’m done keep looking at your f email. You’ll find it’s like your mind nothing’s there? It’s a fine wine that went sour. I might be mistaken, it’s happened in the past and I must keep searching? Why are you are diligently working to kill everyone on the planet I must continue searching? You don’t like my words because they’re true it is the way. I am Our Father’s Appointed! And you are the one with the ego problem? I bring The Hidden Truth! And you have a problem with that. The situation is Extreme and it’s going to call for extreme measures to confront it. So, yes there is a chance and I am what I am for the moment because that’s what it’s going to take. We are under attack! The choice is not Ours? There is not an option to surrender? They are simply putting the pieces in place. They want to save the world because the world is our killer.
And I’m trying to wake up the World before they let the World know it?
And I need to find the smartest most honorable people in the world to do it. Because that’s when it’s going to take to faces this evil.
And the World’s ego and stupidity and a group of scum are in the freaking way! And you sit and wonder why I have an Attitude? And you call me stupid? I’ve walked the road! Like I said I may not like it, but I’ll wait because I have no other choices. 
I’m not psychic that ability doesn’t exist this is reality! I don’t know who reads my posts and when. Few like my words most discard me. I tell them the truth. Regardless of their religion or lack of it. The religious have been conditioned as well as the atheist. The Atheist sees me as an opportunist the religious see me as a liar or the Antichrist.
I’ll say it again to those of you in communication with what you believe is a higher entity. Are beings trying to deceive you and manipulate you! This is an extremely dangerous group, not benevolent at all.
My problems are bigger than I am and the solution is more than one man.
I am the Man of Sin.
I am Amor! Hahaha! I Am David.
I am every man’s worst nightmare.
And I don’t give a s*** what you think!
I am the toilet, bowl man, and I won’t be flushed!
Oh, by the way, your, money’s worth s***
The walls are thick.
No man’s, a fool, all have been deceived!
Doors to the left like I said we didn’t pick this fight!
I’m currently unavailable! The phone’s broken and, I’m done with phones leave a message if you want.
Sin stands for stopping imbecilic nonsense what they’re talking about I don’t know what to call that shit?
And in this, b******* I play King, but that’s not my name. And that’s not my game!
I am no little fluffy Puff that floats around! But I do have a busted bow somewhere? I don’t use it for love though. Love will kill you! You shoot her with an arrow!
I really can’t afford to wait, they are holding me back. So I got to wait but no God Stands with them. Damnation comes for them.
I am the holder of the winning ticket for a big f****** problem.
You ask when all this is supposed to happen? Hey, I’m the Mad Hatter how the hell would I know. I’ll tell you one thing I know we face a hora I’ve been confronting and trying to come to terms with my entire life. And when I tell you the choice is not ours that’s, unfortunately, the way it is.
They didn’t, come here, we did so as it, goes there already here. They’ve been at this for thousands of years. All I can say is we better be as ready as we can because they don’t care if we not. And I’ll tell you another thing you ain’t going to like they are getting ready to wipe out all the refineries! This is all going to happen when they stop running their tests. As I say what’s going to be coming is going to put, you unfortunate to the test.
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riddle-me-ri · 2 years
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Congrats on 200 followers! Your writing is literally so FANTASTIC and AMAZING!!!
How would they react to a S/O who likes to constantly shower them with love; Kisses, hugs, compliments, playing with their hair, etc :]
(For BTAS Riddler, Penguin, and Scarecrow)
A/N: AHHHHH yeeee my top 3 babies let’s goooo thank you, thank you, thank youuuu!!! And you know what, because this request hit one of my sweet spots. I'm gonna add BTAS Jervis in the mix! Have the dork squad plus a pengy! Let's gooooo
BTAS Riddler, Scarecrow, Mad Hatter, and Penguin Reacting To A Strongly Affectionate Reader:
BTAS Riddler: 
Edward is absolutely here for all your affection. It takes him a minute to get over the initial shock and collect his thoughts on how to reciprocate your romantic gestures. Now though, he returns every kiss, compliment, and hug with just as much fervor as you do. 
You two almost make a game out of it. Who can get the most kisses in? Who has the strongest hug? Or even more difficult who can refrain from giving affection? (Spoiler Alert: you guys both loose, even it’s even really losing lol)
Whenever he’s frustrated or feeling low, he can always count on you to perk him up. He adores it when you run your fingers through his hair and rest your head on his back. Ed smiles when he feels the soft pressure of your lips kissing his back. 
Edward has always seen himself as the smartest man alive, but with you and your boundless supply of loving affection…he can also consider himself the luckiest man alive.
BTAS Scarecrow: 
Jonathan Crane is the Master of Fear. The Lord of Despair! He, he shouldn’t be enjoying in hugs, sweet talk, kisses…wait no no, that…don’t stop though…he can do both. 
Jonny is reluctant at first. Not anything against you, of course, the man just genuinely isn’t used to it. It’s a very strange sensation indeed. His blood is pumping, his breaths are shortened…yet he’s not afraid? His adrenaline is going haywire yet…oh..oh no. Good luck, breaking it to him that it is indeed love and that it’s safe. 
However, once Jonathan comes to terms with your over-affectionate nature…he’s absolutely stingy with it. Holding you tighter and longer when you wrap your arms around him. He begins feeling comfortable enough to initiate romantic gestures of his own; like kissing your head, wrapping an arm around you, and calling you sweet nicknames. 
Jonathan Crane is still the Master of Fear…Lord of Despair…but he’s also just a lonely man whose finally not so lonely anymore. 
BTAS Mad Hatter: 
Jervis Tetch is absolutely here for all of it. Unlike the others on this list, he needs only a few seconds and he’s instantly returning the affection. Once you start, he cannot get enough so I hope you have enough to last you both…well forever. 
No worries, though…Jervis is far beyond making this a one way thing. He returns your gestures tenfold. Kissing your head, your hand. Holding your hand or have an arm around you. 
Please hug and kiss this man atleast twice daily, in the morning and night if you don’t he’ll think you’re upset at him. Jervis lives for your kisses, hugs, and giving him sweet compliments they literally keep him going and make him feel invincible. He loves lounging in your lap while you play with his hair or how you sweetly call out his name to get his attention. 
There’s no secret, it doesn’t take one to fumble down a rabbit hole to know…that if there is such thing as a Wonderland it has to have you in it. 
BTAS Penguin:
Well, it only makes sense after finally making him believe your feelings for him are true…that as a reward you’d smother him in all the love and adoration you’ve kinda sorta been holding back. 
Don’t be surprised if Ozzie goes into a small shock as you pepper his face with kisses. It may take sometime to snap him out of it, but when he does his face is burning red. You still have your work cut out for you, but you’re determined to show him all the love he’s been missing out on. 
Oswald slowly but surely grows to loving your overzealous affections. His heart swells whenever you kiss the tip of his nose, or you embrace him, immediately warming his vengeful and hurt heart. He loves when you take off his hat and kiss the tip of his head that’s bald. Showing that you really and truly love every bit of him. He returns the gestures via linking his arm with yours, opening the door for you, and kissing the back of your hand like the royalty you are. 
Oswald was uncertain about your relationship at first, but now there’s no more doubts in his mind about you at all. He’s going to absolutely revel in everything and anything you have to give him in terms of your love and devotion to him. Because you finally made him believe he is worthy of it.
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Chapter 7: A Mad Tea-Party
There was a table set out under a tree in front of the house, and the March Hare and the Hatter were having tea at it: a Dormouse was sitting between them, fast asleep, and the other two were using it as a cushion, resting their elbows on it, and talking over its head. “Very uncomfortable for the Dormouse,” thought Alice; “only, as it’s asleep, I suppose it doesn’t mind.”
The table was a large one, but the three were all crowded together at one corner of it: “No room! No room!” they cried out when they saw Alice coming. “There’s plenty of room!” said Alice indignantly, and she sat down in a large arm-chair at one end of the table.
“Have some wine,” the March Hare said in an encouraging tone.
Alice looked all round the table, but there was nothing on it but tea. “I don’t see any wine,” she remarked.
“There isn’t any,” said the March Hare.
“Then it wasn’t very civil of you to offer it,” said Alice angrily.
“It wasn’t very civil of you to sit down without being invited,” said the March Hare.
“I didn’t know it was your table,” said Alice; “it’s laid for a great many more than three.”
“Your hair wants cutting,” said the Hatter. He had been looking at Alice for some time with great curiosity, and this was his first speech.
“You should learn not to make personal remarks,” Alice said with some severity; “it’s very rude.”
The Hatter opened his eyes very wide on hearing this; but all he said was, “Why is a raven like a writing-desk?”
“Come, we shall have some fun now!” thought Alice. “I’m glad they’ve begun asking riddles.—I believe I can guess that,” she added aloud.
“Do you mean that you think you can find out the answer to it?” said the March Hare.
“Exactly so,” said Alice.
“Then you should say what you mean,” the March Hare went on.
“I do,” Alice hastily replied; “at least—at least I mean what I say—that’s the same thing, you know.”
“Not the same thing a bit!” said the Hatter. “You might just as well say that ‘I see what I eat’ is the same thing as ‘I eat what I see’!”
“You might just as well say,” added the March Hare, “that ‘I like what I get’ is the same thing as ‘I get what I like’!”
“You might just as well say,” added the Dormouse, who seemed to be talking in his sleep, “that ‘I breathe when I sleep’ is the same thing as ‘I sleep when I breathe’!”
“It is the same thing with you,” said the Hatter, and here the conversation dropped, and the party sat silent for a minute, while Alice thought over all she could remember about ravens and writing-desks, which wasn’t much.
The Hatter was the first to break the silence. “What day of the month is it?” he said, turning to Alice: he had taken his watch out of his pocket, and was looking at it uneasily, shaking it every now and then, and holding it to his ear.
Alice considered a little, and then said “The fourth.”
“Two days wrong!” sighed the Hatter. “I told you butter wouldn’t suit the works!” he added looking angrily at the March Hare.
“It was the best butter,” the March Hare meekly replied.
“Yes, but some crumbs must have got in as well,” the Hatter grumbled: “you shouldn’t have put it in with the bread-knife.”
The March Hare took the watch and looked at it gloomily: then he dipped it into his cup of tea, and looked at it again: but he could think of nothing better to say than his first remark, “It was the best butter, you know.”
Alice had been looking over his shoulder with some curiosity. “What a funny watch!” she remarked. “It tells the day of the month, and doesn’t tell what o’clock it is!”
“Why should it?” muttered the Hatter. “Does your watch tell you what year it is?”
“Of course not,” Alice replied very readily: “but that’s because it stays the same year for such a long time together.”
“Which is just the case with mine,” said the Hatter.
Alice felt dreadfully puzzled. The Hatter’s remark seemed to have no sort of meaning in it, and yet it was certainly English. “I don’t quite understand you,” she said, as politely as she could.
“The Dormouse is asleep again,” said the Hatter, and he poured a little hot tea upon its nose.
The Dormouse shook its head impatiently, and said, without opening its eyes, “Of course, of course; just what I was going to remark myself.”
“Have you guessed the riddle yet?” the Hatter said, turning to Alice again.
“No, I give it up,” Alice replied: “what’s the answer?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea,” said the Hatter.
“Nor I,” said the March Hare.
Alice sighed wearily. “I think you might do something better with the time,” she said, “than waste it in asking riddles that have no answers.”
“If you knew Time as well as I do,” said the Hatter, “you wouldn’t talk about wasting it. It’s him.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” said Alice.
“Of course you don’t!” the Hatter said, tossing his head contemptuously. “I dare say you never even spoke to Time!”
“Perhaps not,” Alice cautiously replied: “but I know I have to beat time when I learn music.”
“Ah! that accounts for it,” said the Hatter. “He won’t stand beating. Now, if you only kept on good terms with him, he’d do almost anything you liked with the clock. For instance, suppose it were nine o’clock in the morning, just time to begin lessons: you’d only have to whisper a hint to Time, and round goes the clock in a twinkling! Half-past one, time for dinner!”
(“I only wish it was,” the March Hare said to itself in a whisper.)
“That would be grand, certainly,” said Alice thoughtfully: “but then—I shouldn’t be hungry for it, you know.”
“Not at first, perhaps,” said the Hatter: “but you could keep it to half-past one as long as you liked.”
“Is that the way you manage?” Alice asked.
The Hatter shook his head mournfully. “Not I!” he replied. “We quarrelled last March—just before he went mad, you know—” (pointing with his tea spoon at the March Hare,) “—it was at the great concert given by the Queen of Hearts, and I had to sing
‘Twinkle, twinkle, little bat! How I wonder what you’re at!’
You know the song, perhaps?”
“I’ve heard something like it,” said Alice.
“It goes on, you know,” the Hatter continued, “in this way:—
‘Up above the world you fly, Like a tea-tray in the sky. Twinkle, twinkle—’”
Here the Dormouse shook itself, and began singing in its sleep “Twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, twinkle—” and went on so long that they had to pinch it to make it stop.
“Well, I’d hardly finished the first verse,” said the Hatter, “when the Queen jumped up and bawled out, ‘He’s murdering the time! Off with his head!’”
“How dreadfully savage!” exclaimed Alice.
“And ever since that,” the Hatter went on in a mournful tone, “he won’t do a thing I ask! It’s always six o’clock now.”
A bright idea came into Alice’s head. “Is that the reason so many tea-things are put out here?” she asked.
“Yes, that’s it,” said the Hatter with a sigh: “it’s always tea-time, and we’ve no time to wash the things between whiles.”
“Then you keep moving round, I suppose?” said Alice.
“Exactly so,” said the Hatter: “as the things get used up.”
“But what happens when you come to the beginning again?” Alice ventured to ask.
“Suppose we change the subject,” the March Hare interrupted, yawning. “I’m getting tired of this. I vote the young lady tells us a story.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know one,” said Alice, rather alarmed at the proposal.
“Then the Dormouse shall!” they both cried. “Wake up, Dormouse!” And they pinched it on both sides at once.
The Dormouse slowly opened his eyes. “I wasn’t asleep,” he said in a hoarse, feeble voice: “I heard every word you fellows were saying.”
“Tell us a story!” said the March Hare.
“Yes, please do!” pleaded Alice.
“And be quick about it,” added the Hatter, “or you’ll be asleep again before it’s done.”
“Once upon a time there were three little sisters,” the Dormouse began in a great hurry; “and their names were Elsie, Lacie, and Tillie; and they lived at the bottom of a well—”
“What did they live on?” said Alice, who always took a great interest in questions of eating and drinking.
“They lived on treacle,” said the Dormouse, after thinking a minute or two.
“They couldn’t have done that, you know,” Alice gently remarked; “they’d have been ill.”
“So they were,” said the Dormouse; “very ill.”
Alice tried to fancy to herself what such an extraordinary ways of living would be like, but it puzzled her too much, so she went on: “But why did they live at the bottom of a well?”
“Take some more tea,” the March Hare said to Alice, very earnestly.
“I’ve had nothing yet,” Alice replied in an offended tone, “so I can’t take more.”
“You mean you can’t take less,” said the Hatter: “it’s very easy to take more than nothing.”
“Nobody asked your opinion,” said Alice.
“Who’s making personal remarks now?” the Hatter asked triumphantly.
Alice did not quite know what to say to this: so she helped herself to some tea and bread-and-butter, and then turned to the Dormouse, and repeated her question. “Why did they live at the bottom of a well?”
The Dormouse again took a minute or two to think about it, and then said, “It was a treacle-well.”
“There’s no such thing!” Alice was beginning very angrily, but the Hatter and the March Hare went “Sh! sh!” and the Dormouse sulkily remarked, “If you can’t be civil, you’d better finish the story for yourself.”
“No, please go on!” Alice said very humbly; “I won’t interrupt again. I dare say there may be one.”
“One, indeed!” said the Dormouse indignantly. However, he consented to go on. “And so these three little sisters—they were learning to draw, you know—”
“What did they draw?” said Alice, quite forgetting her promise.
“Treacle,” said the Dormouse, without considering at all this time.
“I want a clean cup,” interrupted the Hatter: “let’s all move one place on.”
He moved on as he spoke, and the Dormouse followed him: the March Hare moved into the Dormouse’s place, and Alice rather unwillingly took the place of the March Hare. The Hatter was the only one who got any advantage from the change: and Alice was a good deal worse off than before, as the March Hare had just upset the milk-jug into his plate.
Alice did not wish to offend the Dormouse again, so she began very cautiously: “But I don’t understand. Where did they draw the treacle from?”
“You can draw water out of a water-well,” said the Hatter; “so I should think you could draw treacle out of a treacle-well—eh, stupid?”
“But they were in the well,” Alice said to the Dormouse, not choosing to notice this last remark.
“Of course they were,” said the Dormouse; “—well in.”
This answer so confused poor Alice, that she let the Dormouse go on for some time without interrupting it.
“They were learning to draw,” the Dormouse went on, yawning and rubbing its eyes, for it was getting very sleepy; “and they drew all manner of things—everything that begins with an M—”
“Why with an M?” said Alice.
“Why not?” said the March Hare.
Alice was silent.
The Dormouse had closed its eyes by this time, and was going off into a doze; but, on being pinched by the Hatter, it woke up again with a little shriek, and went on: “—that begins with an M, such as mouse-traps, and the moon, and memory, and muchness—you know you say things are “much of a muchness”—did you ever see such a thing as a drawing of a muchness?”
“Really, now you ask me,” said Alice, very much confused, “I don’t think—”
“Then you shouldn’t talk,” said the Hatter.
This piece of rudeness was more than Alice could bear: she got up in great disgust, and walked off; the Dormouse fell asleep instantly, and neither of the others took the least notice of her going, though she looked back once or twice, half hoping that they would call after her: the last time she saw them, they were trying to put the Dormouse into the teapot.
“At any rate I’ll never go there again!” said Alice as she picked her way through the wood. “It’s the stupidest tea-party I ever was at in all my life!”
Just as she said this, she noticed that one of the trees had a door leading right into it. “That’s very curious!” she thought. “But everything’s curious today. I think I may as well go in at once.” And in she went.
Once more she found herself in the long hall, and close to the little glass table. “Now, I’ll manage better this time,” she said to herself, and began by taking the little golden key, and unlocking the door that led into the garden. Then she went to work nibbling at the mushroom (she had kept a piece of it in her pocket) till she was about a foot high: then she walked down the little passage: and then—she found herself at last in the beautiful garden, among the bright flower-beds and the cool fountains.
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rason-rodd · 7 years
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Red Hood And The Outlaws: Loyalty (Chapter 8)
[Read the Chapter on AO3] [ Chapter 7 ]
Chapter 8: Hunting With The Wolf
Gotham City has always been the playground of the most infamous black masked two faced mad hatters type of criminal, some being vilest than others, but all considering the night as the perfect way to cloak their crimes. Robberies, prostitution, drug dealing, illegal weapon traffic, so many felonies, so many lawlessness that the police can't handle on its own.
And that is why Gotham at night became the playground of bats and birds, why now a dark knight and his colourful sidekicks fight to bring justice in this crime-infested city. But tonight, one fallen red bird is teaming up with another kind of animal, way bigger and way more callous. A wolf.
“ What do you see?” [Y/N] asked Jason who was looking at a dock through his night vision binoculars “ Four men around the car, five others examining the dock and a van that looks way too suspicious” “ Are they armed?”         “ A real armoury. Way too much to watch a simple drug transaction. It’s not gonna be easy to take them down with discretion”     “ Then we’ll do this loud. No problem”                 “ Easy!” He caught her arm in his firm leather-gloved hand to prevent her from rushing headlong “ They certainly have back up awaiting somewhere”   “ So?”     “ So let’s find out where, study the environment.”       “ If you're scared you can stay right here and keep a lookout. Looks like you're rather good at it” Jason sighed and grabbed her by the arm as she tried to leave their hideout again. She kneeled back next to him. “What?”               “ I agreed to do this with you because this is the kind of cause I fight for …”
She had learned about an important drug transaction with some mafia family that Black Mask had planned at the docks in Gotham’s harbour. Worth thousands of dollars apparently. But who knows how much it would be resold in the Narrows, and how many victims it could cause, how many families it would break, how many children like Jason Todd it would create.               It had been her idea but it hadn’t been hard to convince the Red Hood to intervene. Personal relatable matter.
“ …but I was clear” He continued “We do this my way …”         “ Yeah yeah or the big bad bat will kick your butt and send us both to Blackgate. I know. You may be scared of him but I'm not”         “ That's certainly the kind of thing someone who hasn't met Batman would say. Trust me you'll change your mind when you see him, like I did… And by the way, it’s miracle it hasn't happened yet.” “ I’m not easy to find.”                   “ I found you”     “ Because I wanted you to. Trust me Red Hood, I'm no amateur … after all, I have spotted the sniper right on the crane over there.” She raised his binoculars with her fingertips to show him the man hidden high up in the shadow of the crane cabin.               Jason was impressed but also upset not to have seen it first. “ How did you …?”         “ Don't need some fancy military binoculars. I have a wonderful natural night vision.” She smiled at him with her sudden glowing yellow eyes so proud of herself.                   “ If you’re so good, why ask me to come then?”               “ Wanted to show you you could trust me … and I thought you could be of some use. Clearly I was wrong about that part.”
She shrugged, as he looked at her clearly annoyed though he didn't show it or respond. Instead he grabbed his duffle bag and took out a type of silent rifle he immediately aimed at the sniper on the crane. “You’re going to kill him? Careful of the big bad bat, Red Hood!” He didn't pay attention and just shot directly in the man’s neck who eventually fell nearly two seconds after against the cabin. “Syringer rifle. The guy is going to take a huge nap. Am I still useless?”     She smiled at him “Impressive. Now what?”   “ We need a distraction, something to gather the men on the dock, some strategic place to take them down. Then we need to take care of that van. The thing is I don’t know what is inside. Could be were they have the drug but who knows if there aren’t some henchmen inside … which leaves the rest of the plan completely unsure.”     “ I have an idea about that van but I guess I could use some back up, someone to cover me just in case.” “ I can do that. What's the plan?”           “ If I can get close to than van I will be able to smell what's inside. It will allow us to evaluate the danger and act in consequence.”               “ I’m in. So first the men on the dock then …” “ No the van first.”           “ What? No! It's too dangerous. You're crazy.”                 “ Ooh you care for me.”                 “ I don’t want you to die on me. Sorry about that.”       “ Look. I'm going to go to that freaking van, close the back doors, pull down the handbrake and hide. The van will slowly slide towards the sea, luring the men on the dock and that’s when I’ll take them out... with discretion and no-killing obviously”           “ [Y/N] I don’t think you’ll …”     “ Listen Red. I know you can cover me. I trust you. Now, do you trust me?”
Intrigued, he remained still and quiet, staring at the girl in front of him who was looking back at him with softness and calm in her eyes, wondering why … how … she - who he barely knew - could trust him and not his own mentor, his family.
He eventually nodded. “Fine. I give you a chance. But what do we do for the men by the car?”             “I leave that to you. Surely you can take care of them” She winked and stood up before he grabbed her hand once more “Wait! Take this” He handed her an earpiece “So that we can stay in contact”. She smiled slightly but sincerely before climbing down the container and heading to the van, her thin silhouette hiding perfectly in the darkness.
His eyes wide open and in a state of alert, Jason was watching her surroundings but she was definitely very good and quiet. It took only a few seconds for her to reach the van. She paused by the wheel, closed her eyes and concentrated. She could smell the same drug she had smelt in the train at her arrival in Gotham City and human odours.
“ Someone’s in the van. Probably some henchmen guarding the drugs inside like you said” she whispered.           “ Great. Now what?”     “ Let's hope they know how to swim.” She quietly locked the back door before heading slowly to the left front door that she opened slightly to reach for the handbrake. She pressed the button but immediately stopped when she heard her strange click coming from the trunk “I have a bad feeling about this” She climbed on the driver seat to analyse the brake. Few wires were attached to it.
“ Red, I think we might have a problem” She confessed through the earpiece                 “ What's going on?” He worried.               “ Well you remember you said you wanted me to be discreet and I suggested to go for loud? Well … ” “ Don’t you even think about it”               “ It’s definitely gonna get loud. I think I just triggered a bomb.”
Jason immediately got up and pulled out his guns from his holsters. “Don’t move. I’m coming” “ Well it’s not like I can. If I take my hand off this handbrake there is a high probability that the van goes immediately boom … and me with it”     “ Try to locate the defusing device. I’m on my way” He took two cartridge clips filled with rubber bullets and loaded his two Berettas before climbing down the container, muttering curses. “You know I can hear you right?”               “ Oh I certainly hope so” Jason replied as he was cautiously heading towards her.   “ It’s not my fault”           “ It was your plan. ‘I’ll be able to smell what's inside van ... My ass!”       “ Hey! I’m a wolf not a police dog. I don’t smell bombs!”           “ It is indeed clear that you need to work on your sense of smell”
She jolted at the rebuke, feeling suddenly a presence behind her. This voice. It wasn’t the Red Hood and she knew somehow who it was. Because it was this voice. This hollow, boomy, husky voice. This voice she had heard so much about. The voice that makes you want to bolt the second you hear it. But she did not bolt. She couldn’t because her hand was kind of stuck to that stupid handbrake. Would she have bolted if she had been free to do so? Probably not. But she would have got ready to defend herself for sure.
She turned her head however by curiosity, just to see if stories where right. And God damn it, there were. He was impressive, towering her like a nightmarish figure with his black costume as dark as the night. The Dark Knight. The Batman.
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The Rabbit Hole Stained Red
Alice fell asleep in her garden on a warm summer day. Suddenly, a furry rabbit scampered across the lawn.
“I’m late. I’m late,” the rabbit shouted as he jumped down a hole.
Alice, out of curiosity, followed the rabbit down the hole. She ended up in a magical world called Wonderland. Throughout Alice’s time in wonderland, she met a variety of animals and people. Alice met the Cheshire cat in the woods , the Madhatter at tea time, and the Queen of Hearts at her croquet game. Alice attended a trial the Queen set up to find out who stole her tarts. The one being trialed was the Knave of Hearts. Alice was flabbergasted by the King’s “evidence” about how the Knave indeed committed the crime. Alice started to grow as she became more and more upset about how the trial was being run. The cards started to attack Alice as she grew back to original height
“Alice wake up,” a distant voice calls.
Alice wakes up to see her younger sister, Sydney, calling her name.
“You were acting very weird big sis,” the five year old says.
“Sydney, you’ll never believe what happened to me,” Alice exclaims.
Alice tells her sister about the magical creatures of Wonderland and how logic did not apply there. All the while, Sydney’s eyes grow large in wonder.
            “Alice, Sydney, come inside for supper!” Lorena, their elder sister calls.
Ten years later
On a sunny day in England. Sydney and Alice are tired of their constant studies, so they decide to take a nap under the shade of a tree. Sydney is startled awake when a white rabbit starts to shake her.
“OH you must help. Wonderland is in incredible chaos,” the rabbit says frantically.
“It’s you,” Alice exclaims.
      “This can’t be real,” Sydney says, “rabbits don’t talk.”
Before Sydney could process what was happening, the rabbit takes both of their hands and drags them down the rabbit hole. They both land in an empty field littered with bodies.
“What happened here?” Alice asks the rabbit.
            “You see Miss Alice, Wonderland is at war with the neighboring country, Masquerade Land.” The rabbit replies. All of a sudden, an explosion goes off in the distance.
            “Come, we mustn’t talk here, it’s too dangerous,” the rabbit says, “I’ll bring you to the headquarters.”
Alice and Sydney follow the white rabbit through the forest and to a tree. The rabbit pulls down a branch and the center of the tree opens.
The rabbit calmly walks inside. The two sisters follow. Once they emerge from darkness, the sisters are blinded by a bright light.
            “Off with their heads!” A voice yells.
            “Wait, my queen, “ the rabbit explains, “this is Alice and her sister Sydney; they have come to help us.”
            “Glad for you two to join us,” the Cheshire cat says.
            “It’s six o’clock, “the hatter cheers, “time for tea.”
            “Don’t we need to worry about  the war at hand?” Sydney says exasperated.
Her cry falls on deaf ears as everybody sits around the circular table to enjoy their tea.
            “Come Sydney, let’s enjoy tea,” Alice motions to the table.
            “You have got to be kidding me,” Sydney mumbles under her breath.
Once the clock struck seven o’clock, everyone threw their teacups to the floor. The somber mood returned instantly. The dormouse was the first to speak.
“It was ten years ago when you last visited wonderland, Alice. In the time you were gone, the neighboring countries’ queen died of old age and a new queen was chosen. The new queen’s name is the Black queen. The Black queen rules Masquerade Land. The residents have a special power which they will instantly transform into the mask they are wearing.“
The Cheshire cat was the next to speak, “We need you two to infiltrate Masquerade Land and assassinate the Black queen.”
            “Why do we have to kill her?!” Sydney screams.
A loud bang resonates from the fist which slams down onto the mahogany table.
            “I have lost too many card soldiers in this war. The Black queen must pay,” the Red queen growls.
            “I will train you two to be highly dangerous,” the Knave of hearts explains, “both of you will be able to fight in hand to hand combat and will have a special weapon of choice.”
            “This is crazy. I must be dreaming. Alice, do you believe this?” Sydney questions.
            “The people of Wonderland are in need of our help. I think we should help stop this war,” Alice suggests.
            “You’re all mad!” Sydney screams as she stalks out of the room.
Sydney ends of walking back from the way she came. She finds herself in the middle of a barren wasteland. A fire is seen off in the distance. Sydney decides to go investigate. As Sydney approaches the miniature village, she can hear cries of agony and sobs of grief.
            “Halt, you are encroaching on the Wonderville property,” a guard tells Sydney, “ State your business here.”
            “I have no way of going home, and I was hoping you would let me stay here in the meantime,” Sydney replies.
            “We already have too many mouths to feed. Now le…”
Before the guard can finish talking, a woman approaches both of them and says,  “Nonsense, we shall not turn away a person in need. Now let the poor girl inside.”
The guard huffs in irritation, but nevertheless stands aside.
            “Thank you for allowing me to stay here,” Sydney says to the woman.
            “You are welcome,” the woman replies.
            “Now you must be hungry. Follow me to the kitchen tent.”
            “Auntie Jasmine, who’s your friend?” a young boy asks.
            “Oh, Ashton, this girl was looking for a place to stay, so I let her stay here,” Jasmine explains.
“What is your name?” Ashton asks curiously.
Sydney giggles and replies, “Sydney.”
         “Ashton, do you want to show Sydney around the place?” Jasmine asks.
         “Yeah,” Ashton says with excitement.
The rest of the day, Sydney is brought to various places. Sydney learns a boat load of information about Ashton. How he wants a dog named Ruffles. He wants to be a doctor when he grows up, so he can help his aunt with the sick people. How his favorite color is blue. How he misses the way the sky looks on a clear summer day. Now all he sees is a gray sky from all the explosions and gunpowder being set off.
As night approaches, everybody starts to enter into their assigned tents to go to bed.
            “Come on Ashton, time for bed,” Aunt Jasmine whispers.
            “But (yawn) I’m not tired (yawn),” Ashton sleepily replies.
            “I’m sure you are, you had a big day of showing Sydney around,” Aunt Jasmine promptly picks Ashton up and takes him into a nearby tent. Jasmine then comes back out, and sits next to Sydney.
            “Ashton really likes you,” Jasmine says to Sydney. “I haven’t seen him smile that wide in months.”
            “He’s a cute child,” Sydney replies. “He wants to make a better future for this town.”
            “I wish we had more people like that in the world,” Jasmine says, “Well, I better start a fire. The temperature drops dramatically at night.”
            “Wait, you have done so much for me, let me go collect firewood. You can go to sleep early,” Sydney suggests.
            “I couldn’t let you do that; you’re our guest,” Jasmine retorts.
            “I insist,” Sydney says as she walks toward the woods.
Jasmine has a hint of a smile on her face as she disappears into a tent.
As Sydney is walking through the forest, she hears a low flapping sound. The noise starts to increase in volume. She looks above her head to see at least 100 sparrows flying through the night sky. Out of curiosity, Sydney follows the giant flock. As Sydney reaches the entrance to the woods, she can see the flock hovering above Jasmine’s town.
Suddenly, all of the sparrows transforms into soldiers covered in black armor, and they start shooting the multiple tents. Sydney’s eyes grow large, and she pumps her legs as fast as she can to arrive back to the town.
As she is about to enter the town, a wildfire starts to ravage the place. An explosive is set off, which flings her backward. She watches in horror as the town is engulfed in flames; while the people scream in agony. Sydney tries to enter the town, but a magical barrier is blocking the entrance, so nobody can go in or out. Through all the smoke, Sydney can see a tiny figure crawling toward the entrance. A miniscule burnt hand reaches out toward Sydney; before falling lifeless. Sydney starts to bang furiously on the barrier.
            “LET ME IN!” Sydney screams. “LET ME IN! LET ME IN! LET ME…” she does not finish her sentence as she falls onto her knees into a puddle of tears.
            “I am so sorry,” Sydney whispers into the night.
The next morning, Sydney has her resolve to stop this war, and end the Black queen’s reign of terror.
            “Which tree was it?” Sydney says, as she tries to find her way back to headquarters.
Suddenly, a garbled battle cry comes from deeper inside the forest.
            “That sounds like Alice,” Sydney proclaims.
She runs deeper into the woods; until she stumbles upon a clearing. There she sees Alice and the Knave of Hearts sword fighting.
Alice is wielding two anelace daggers, while the Knave of Hearts is carrying a long sword. The Knave of Hearts charges at Alice, while she barely dodges the sword as the blade grazes her arm. Alice winches from the cut. Alice starts to spin her to daggers in a circular motion. The Knave of Hearts strikes the center of the daggers which sends the daggers flying out of Alice’s hands.
            “You need a faster spin,” The Knave of Hearts says.
            “Wow, Alice. That was impressive,” Sydney says with admiration in her voice.
            “Ah, glad of you to join us, Sydney,” the Knave of Hearts says,” Why don’t you pick up a weapon?”
Sydney sees in the far corner, a rack of various weapons. The first weapon to catch her eye is the long bow.
            “I guess all those years of archery lessons will pay off,” Alice chimes.
            “Now that both of you are here, let’s begin the training,” the Knave of Hearts says.
The next month is grueling and treacherous. Alice and Sydney learn about hand to hand combat, stealth skills, and pressure points. Finally, the time has come to infiltrate the enemy’s castle, and end this war once and for all.
Tonight was the Black queen’s annual  ball. Everybody attending wore masquerade masks, so the sisters would be hard to be found among the rest of the guests. All dressed up in ballroom gowns, Alice and Sydney make their way inside the Black queen’s domain. The interior of the castle was decorated in black and red. There was sparkling white chandeliers hanging for the ceiling. Along the wall, was a twenty - five yard table covered with food and drinks. The grand foyer seemed to go on and on for miles. On a balcony seated above the guests, sat the queen on her throne.
            “Ladies and Gentlemen,” the queen says eloquently, “tonight is the annual masquerade ball. Please enjoy yourselves, and try to forget all about your troubles.”
Throughout the night, Alice and Sydney are able to blend in with the crowd and stay unidentifiable. As the night was coming to a close, the queen offered rooms to guests who had a far travel home. Alice and Sydney follow the other guests deeper into the castle. Alice and Sydney stray from the group; trying to find out where the queen walked off to. Alice and Sydney find a giant set of double doors protected by multiple guards. “This must be the queen’s private quarters,” Alice whispers to Sydney.
As the sisters try to make up a plan of attack, one of the guards spots them.
            “Intruder!” a guard shouts.
Alice and Sydney jump into action. Alice unsheathes the daggers from the back of her dress and starts to charge. Sydney unstraps the bow from her back, and takes her arrows out of her boots. One of the guards takes out his sword and charges at Alice. Alice swiftly slides under the blade and slices the abdomen of the guard.
Multiple guards surround Sydney and closes in on her. Sydney takes a handful of arrows and rapidly fires them at the guards. The guards drop down with a thud. Alice is running sporadically through rows of guards, slicing off various body parts in the process. Sydney is dealing with multiple guards around her. She has no time to re-cock the bow, so she uses the steel tips of the bow to fend off her attackers. Luckily, Alice sees her sister in trouble, and runs over to help her. Alice mercilessly drags her daggers across the legs of the guards. They all scream in anguish as they fall down.
Once the last guard falls to the ground, the two sisters approach the large brass doors. Sydney knows she will be the one to kill the queen; her weapon is for long ranges, while her sister’s weapons are not. Sydney knows once she lets the arrow go, there is no turning back. Her regret disappears when she remembers all the innocent lives the Black queen has taken. When the doors are open, Sydney has no hesitation as she lets her arrow fly.
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freebetalerts-blog · 6 years
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FA Cup Betting: Ambitious Salford can upset the Shrews
(New post on FreeBetAlerts.com) - https://freebetalerts.com/2018/11/09/fa-cup-betting-ambitious-salford-can-upset-the-shrews/ #Football, #Freebets, #Tips
FA Cup Betting: Ambitious Salford can upset the Shrews Please share.
A busy FA Cup weekend is in store, and Alan Dudman runs the rule over several League One sides. He thinks Shrewsbury could lose out to Salford….
Brewers to produce some cup magic again
Scunthorpe United v Burton Albion Saturday 10th November, 15:00
The market has this pretty tight on the outright Match Betting with Scunthorpe at [2.74] and Burton at [2.56]. Whatever way the result goes, I am hoping there will be a goal or two with this pair. Indeed, any match with the Iron at the moment screams goals.
Last time out, Scunthorpe conceded three at home to Oxford – a side who barely score away. That took their tally of hitting the Over 2.5 Goals mark to five of their last seven matches. It has taken a while for the backers to get on red alert with these two, as the Over 2.5 is priced at [1.85], which is a fair number. The 3.5 can be backed at [3.20].
I fancy Burton to win, as I like their cup and knockout football mentality. It’s worked in the last two seasons in the EFL Cup, and they should go to Glanford Park with a bit of confidence.
The Brewers are scoring too lately; they have 13 in their last six matches, and have registered a ‘Yes’ on the Both Teams To Score in seven of their last eight.
Burton could stick with their 4-3-3 and they play some good football. Manager Nigel Clough has been utilising the pace of Devante Cole recently, which has shifted the star player Liam Boyce out to the left. It seems to be working.
Take the higher price on Cup shock
Shrewsbury Town v Salford City Sunday 11th November, 12:45
League One isn’t easy to predict, and sides like Shrewsbury can make life difficult. Recently they beat a very good Barnsley team (that are chasing the title) 3-0 at the Meadow. Their very next game they lost to struggling Oxford. The gap was just four days. A complete contrast of performances.
For that reason I will swerve the [1.91] for the hosts. I often tell myself not to back odds-on with the outright in League One, but sometimes I get sucked in. The Blackpool bet was another last weekend.
Salford at [3.10] is very tempting, Everything at the club is geared to enter the Football League. And yes they have the backing and high profile, but from the outside it looks a top set-up with Graham Alexander now the manager.
They are unbeaten since August and have scored 18 on the road. In fact, they have failed to score in just one game all season and they have goal threats in Adam Rooney and Rory Gaffney.
I am happy to back the away team here, as a Cup run will be high on the agenda for City. The visitors might play two leagues below, but it wouldn’t be the biggest of shocks considering Salford’s budget. The market tells us that.
Mad on Hatters to beat Wanderers
Luton Town v Wycombe Wanderers Saturday 11th November, 15:00
Luton are one of the form teams of League One at the moment, and this all-third-tier tie should see the Hatters progress into the pot for round two. Although they haven’t exactly been missed at [1.67].
The visitors here probably shouldn’t be as big as [6.0], but even though I often talk about price, I just can’t see Wycombe winning this despite their excellent record historically at Kenilworth Road – as they have won four of their last five games there. Opta Stats also give a positive mention to Luton, as they have progressed to the FA Cup second round in each of the last four seasons.
I like the way Luton play, they pass quickly and have a decent midfield that keeps the game ticking along. They have won six of their last eight, and they have been priced up as very short for a couple of months now. Unfortunately they will be without Danny Hylton – who has scored five in nine appearances. He starts a suspension and will miss Saturday.
The home victory is obvious, but I don’t like the price. I fancy Luton to score a few here as they have found the back of the net in every single league game at home this season, which points me towards the Over 2.5 bet.
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readbookywooks · 7 years
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A Mad Tea-Party
There was a table set out under a tree in front of the house, and the March Hare and the Hatter were having tea at it: a Dormouse was sitting between them, fast asleep, and the other two were using it as a cushion, resting their elbows on it, and the talking over its head. `Very uncomfortable for the Dormouse,' thought Alice; `only, as it's asleep, I suppose it doesn't mind.'
The table was a large one, but the three were all crowded together at one corner of it: `No room! No room!' they cried out when they saw Alice coming. `There's PLENTY of room!' said Alice indignantly, and she sat down in a large arm-chair at one end of the table.
`Have some wine,' the March Hare said in an encouraging tone.
Alice looked all round the table, but there was nothing on it but tea. `I don't see any wine,' she remarked.
`There isn't any,' said the March Hare.
`Then it wasn't very civil of you to offer it,' said Alice angrily.
`It wasn't very civil of you to sit down without being invited,' said the March Hare.
`I didn't know it was YOUR table,' said Alice; `it's laid for a great many more than three.'
`Your hair wants cutting,' said the Hatter. He had been looking at Alice for some time with great curiosity, and this was his first speech.
`You should learn not to make personal remarks,' Alice said with some severity; `it's very rude.'
The Hatter opened his eyes very wide on hearing this; but all he SAID was, `Why is a raven like a writing-desk?'
`Come, we shall have some fun now!' thought Alice. `I'm glad they've begun asking riddles.--I believe I can guess that,' she added aloud.
`Do you mean that you think you can find out the answer to it?' said the March Hare.
`Exactly so,' said Alice.
`Then you should say what you mean,' the March Hare went on.
`I do,' Alice hastily replied; `at least--at least I mean what I say--that's the same thing, you know.'
`Not the same thing a bit!' said the Hatter. `You might just as well say that "I see what I eat" is the same thing as "I eat what I see"!'
`You might just as well say,' added the March Hare, `that "I like what I get" is the same thing as "I get what I like"!'
`You might just as well say,' added the Dormouse, who seemed to be talking in his sleep, `that "I breathe when I sleep" is the same thing as "I sleep when I breathe"!'
`It IS the same thing with you,' said the Hatter, and here the conversation dropped, and the party sat silent for a minute, while Alice thought over all she could remember about ravens and writing-desks, which wasn't much.
The Hatter was the first to break the silence. `What day of the month is it?' he said, turning to Alice: he had taken his watch out of his pocket, and was looking at it uneasily, shaking it every now and then, and holding it to his ear.
Alice considered a little, and then said `The fourth.'
`Two days wrong!' sighed the Hatter. `I told you butter wouldn't suit the works!' he added looking angrily at the March Hare.
`It was the BEST butter,' the March Hare meekly replied.
`Yes, but some crumbs must have got in as well,' the Hatter grumbled: `you shouldn't have put it in with the bread-knife.'
The March Hare took the watch and looked at it gloomily: then he dipped it into his cup of tea, and looked at it again: but he could think of nothing better to say than his first remark, `It was the BEST butter, you know.'
Alice had been looking over his shoulder with some curiosity. `What a funny watch!' she remarked. `It tells the day of the month, and doesn't tell what o'clock it is!'
`Why should it?' muttered the Hatter. `Does YOUR watch tell you what year it is?'
`Of course not,' Alice replied very readily: `but that's because it stays the same year for such a long time together.'
`Which is just the case with MINE,' said the Hatter.
Alice felt dreadfully puzzled. The Hatter's remark seemed to have no sort of meaning in it, and yet it was certainly English. `I don't quite understand you,' she said, as politely as she could.
`The Dormouse is asleep again,' said the Hatter, and he poured a little hot tea upon its nose.
The Dormouse shook its head impatiently, and said, without opening its eyes, `Of course, of course; just what I was going to remark myself.'
`Have you guessed the riddle yet?' the Hatter said, turning to Alice again.
`No, I give it up,' Alice replied: `what's the answer?'
`I haven't the slightest idea,' said the Hatter.
`Nor I,' said the March Hare.
Alice sighed wearily. `I think you might do something better with the time,' she said, `than waste it in asking riddles that have no answers.'
`If you knew Time as well as I do,' said the Hatter, `you wouldn't talk about wasting IT. It's HIM.'
`I don't know what you mean,' said Alice.
`Of course you don't!' the Hatter said, tossing his head contemptuously. `I dare say you never even spoke to Time!'
`Perhaps not,' Alice cautiously replied: `but I know I have to beat time when I learn music.'
`Ah! that accounts for it,' said the Hatter. `He won't stand beating. Now, if you only kept on good terms with him, he'd do almost anything you liked with the clock. For instance, suppose it were nine o'clock in the morning, just time to begin lessons: you'd only have to whisper a hint to Time, and round goes the clock in a twinkling! Half-past one, time for dinner!'
(`I only wish it was,' the March Hare said to itself in a whisper.)
`That would be grand, certainly,' said Alice thoughtfully: `but then--I shouldn't be hungry for it, you know.'
`Not at first, perhaps,' said the Hatter: `but you could keep it to half-past one as long as you liked.'
`Is that the way YOU manage?' Alice asked.
The Hatter shook his head mournfully. `Not I!' he replied. `We quarrelled last March--just before HE went mad, you know--' (pointing with his tea spoon at the March Hare,) `--it was at the great concert given by the Queen of Hearts, and I had to sing
"Twinkle, twinkle, little bat! How I wonder what you're at!"
You know the song, perhaps?'
`I've heard something like it,' said Alice.
`It goes on, you know,' the Hatter continued, `in this way:--
"Up above the world you fly, Like a tea-tray in the sky. Twinkle, twinkle--"'
Here the Dormouse shook itself, and began singing in its sleep `Twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, twinkle--' and went on so long that they had to pinch it to make it stop.
`Well, I'd hardly finished the first verse,' said the Hatter, `when the Queen jumped up and bawled out, "He's murdering the time! Off with his head!"'
`How dreadfully savage!' exclaimed Alice.
`And ever since that,' the Hatter went on in a mournful tone, `he won't do a thing I ask! It's always six o'clock now.'
A bright idea came into Alice's head. `Is that the reason so many tea-things are put out here?' she asked.
`Yes, that's it,' said the Hatter with a sigh: `it's always tea-time, and we've no time to wash the things between whiles.'
`Then you keep moving round, I suppose?' said Alice.
`Exactly so,' said the Hatter: `as the things get used up.'
`But what happens when you come to the beginning again?' Alice ventured to ask.
`Suppose we change the subject,' the March Hare interrupted, yawning. `I'm getting tired of this. I vote the young lady tells us a story.'
`I'm afraid I don't know one,' said Alice, rather alarmed at the proposal.
`Then the Dormouse shall!' they both cried. `Wake up, Dormouse!' And they pinched it on both sides at once.
The Dormouse slowly opened his eyes. `I wasn't asleep,' he said in a hoarse, feeble voice: `I heard every word you fellows were saying.'
`Tell us a story!' said the March Hare.
`Yes, please do!' pleaded Alice.
`And be quick about it,' added the Hatter, `or you'll be asleep again before it's done.'
`Once upon a time there were three little sisters,' the Dormouse began in a great hurry; `and their names were Elsie, Lacie, and Tillie; and they lived at the bottom of a well--'
`What did they live on?' said Alice, who always took a great interest in questions of eating and drinking.
`They lived on treacle,' said the Dormouse, after thinking a minute or two.
`They couldn't have done that, you know,' Alice gently remarked; `they'd have been ill.'
`So they were,' said the Dormouse; `VERY ill.'
Alice tried to fancy to herself what such an extraordinary ways of living would be like, but it puzzled her too much, so she went on: `But why did they live at the bottom of a well?'
`Take some more tea,' the March Hare said to Alice, very earnestly.
`I've had nothing yet,' Alice replied in an offended tone, `so I can't take more.'
`You mean you can't take LESS,' said the Hatter: `it's very easy to take MORE than nothing.'
`Nobody asked YOUR opinion,' said Alice.
`Who's making personal remarks now?' the Hatter asked triumphantly.
Alice did not quite know what to say to this: so she helped herself to some tea and bread-and-butter, and then turned to the Dormouse, and repeated her question. `Why did they live at the bottom of a well?'
The Dormouse again took a minute or two to think about it, and then said, `It was a treacle-well.'
`There's no such thing!' Alice was beginning very angrily, but the Hatter and the March Hare went `Sh! sh!' and the Dormouse sulkily remarked, `If you can't be civil, you'd better finish the story for yourself.'
`No, please go on!' Alice said very humbly; `I won't interrupt again. I dare say there may be ONE.'
`One, indeed!' said the Dormouse indignantly. However, he consented to go on. `And so these three little sisters--they were learning to draw, you know--'
`What did they draw?' said Alice, quite forgetting her promise.
`Treacle,' said the Dormouse, without considering at all this time.
`I want a clean cup,' interrupted the Hatter: `let's all move one place on.'
He moved on as he spoke, and the Dormouse followed him: the March Hare moved into the Dormouse's place, and Alice rather unwillingly took the place of the March Hare. The Hatter was the only one who got any advantage from the change: and Alice was a good deal worse off than before, as the March Hare had just upset the milk-jug into his plate.
Alice did not wish to offend the Dormouse again, so she began very cautiously: `But I don't understand. Where did they draw the treacle from?'
`You can draw water out of a water-well,' said the Hatter; `so I should think you could draw treacle out of a treacle-well--eh, stupid?'
`But they were IN the well,' Alice said to the Dormouse, not choosing to notice this last remark.
`Of course they were', said the Dormouse; `--well in.'
This answer so confused poor Alice, that she let the Dormouse go on for some time without interrupting it.
`They were learning to draw,' the Dormouse went on, yawning and rubbing its eyes, for it was getting very sleepy; `and they drew all manner of things--everything that begins with an M--'
`Why with an M?' said Alice.
`Why not?' said the March Hare.
Alice was silent.
The Dormouse had closed its eyes by this time, and was going off into a doze; but, on being pinched by the Hatter, it woke up again with a little shriek, and went on: `--that begins with an M, such as mouse-traps, and the moon, and memory, and muchness-- you know you say things are "much of a muchness"--did you ever see such a thing as a drawing of a muchness?'
`Really, now you ask me,' said Alice, very much confused, `I don't think--'
`Then you shouldn't talk,' said the Hatter.
This piece of rudeness was more than Alice could bear: she got up in great disgust, and walked off; the Dormouse fell asleep instantly, and neither of the others took the least notice of her going, though she looked back once or twice, half hoping that they would call after her: the last time she saw them, they were trying to put the Dormouse into the teapot.
`At any rate I'll never go THERE again!' said Alice as she picked her way through the wood. `It's the stupidest tea-party I ever was at in all my life!'
Just as she said this, she noticed that one of the trees had a door leading right into it. `That's very curious!' she thought. `But everything's curious today. I think I may as well go in at once.' And in she went.
Once more she found herself in the long hall, and close to the little glass table. `Now, I'll manage better this time,' she said to herself, and began by taking the little golden key, and unlocking the door that led into the garden. Then she went to work nibbling at the mushroom (she had kept a piece of it in her pocked) till she was about a foot high: then she walked down the little passage: and THEN--she found herself at last in the beautiful garden, among the bright flower-beds and the cool fountains.
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