โโโโโฉโโโโโโโโโโโโโใหโบโงโหโฉหโโงโบหใโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโฉโโโ
Always an Angel, Never a God
-"Sometimes, she felt as if her heart were a dying star, flickering weakly in the vast darkness of the sky. Always present, but barely noticeable among so many other, brighter lights, beautiful in its light, but always seeming to be just a heartbeat away from going out".
โงI will no longer write something so ambitious again; it was so complicated to cohere all of this because I didn't want to discard any character from each dorm. So I hope the pace of the reading doesn't feel weird. The tone was supposed to be more hopeful, but I started to feel a little sad at the end.
โงFem Prefect, the reader is the Ramshackle prefect.
The nights in Twisted Wonderland had always been a refuge; from the window of the Ramshackle Dorm, the prefect watched the firmament with a mixture of longing and melancholy. It was in those moments of stillness, under the immense night sky, that she could allow herself to breathe. The stars always seemed to offer her a companionship her friends could never fully provide. Not because they didn't love her, but because, at the end of the day, she was different. Twisted Wonderland, with all its magic and twisted wonders, was a fascinating place, but it was not her home.
Her days passed in silent repetition.
First there was Ace, always quick with a joke, but his words sometimes hurt her more than he knew. "Prefect, what would we do without you?" he said half-jokingly and half-seriously. But those words, they hurt. What would they do without me? But what am I beyond solving their problems? Riddle, with his severe look and devotion to order, came to her when Heartslabyul fell apart under the weight of his own rules. "You're reasonable; I'd rather trust you," he said, like it was a compliment. However, in his eyes, she was only another piece in his perfect order, a resource to use when the rules were not enough to maintain the order.
Trey, always kind and calm, offered her small comforts in the form of candy and kind words. โDonโt worry so much,โ he would say as he handed her a freshly baked cookie, as if sugar could sweeten the bitterness she felt. It was as if Trey treated her with the same kindness one gives to a stranger, someone you want to please but not let get too close to.
Cater, always smiling and with the phone ready, seemed to see her in a brighter light, at least on the surface. โThis is going straight to Magicam, but make sure you give your best smile, okay?โ he exclaimed while making sure she was well framed in his selfies. But once the photo is taken, she becomes a memory that faded away among filters and irrelevant comments.
Deuce was different, and maybe that's why it hurt her more. "Prefect, I'll do better next time," he'd say after some disaster, his eyes filled with determination and guilt. In his clumsy way, he always wanted to prove to her that he could be better, that he could be up to it. But in those desperate attempts to prove himself, she couldn't help but feel responsible for the insecurity he carried. It was as if, instead of supporting each other, he was running after a difficult goal, looking for validation in a place where she herself couldn't find it.
The moments with Leona were like shooting stars: brief flashes of connection that illuminated the darkness, only to quickly fade away. He was a dying star, exhausted and unwilling to shine for anyone else. Sometimes, it seemed she managed to truly see him, glimpsing something beyond his usual indifference. His distant gaze made her feel like a powerless spectator, unable to stop his inevitable collapse. "Don't try so hard," he would tell her, yawning with squinted eyes. "You don't belong here anyway." His carefree words always cut deeper than intended.
Jack, despite his loyal and protective nature, saw her as someone he always had to take care of. "You're strong, but sometimes you get into too dangerous situations," he would say, his tone full of concern. His protection was comforting, but also a chain that kept her anchored to a dependency she didn't want.
Ruggie, on the other hand, viewed her through a more pragmatic lens. "If you ever need anything, you know, just ask," he would tell her with a mischievous grin. But there was always a transaction behind his words, as if she was just one more on his list of favors, something he could cash in when it was convenient. To him, she was like a distant star, useful insofar as she could offer something, but always interchangeable. "Don't take things so personally, Prefect. We're all looking out for ourselves here." That raw truth, stripped of sentimentality, was a brutal reminder that, in this world, no one shone without a price to pay.
Azul saw her as an opportunity. He always had a deal or contract at hand, waiting for her to fall. โYou can always count on me for a fair price,โ he would say, with that calculating smile that never revealed his true interest. Like the ocean that reflects the stars but never touches them, she never felt like more than a surface he turned to when he needed something. She was not an equal. And though she knew his words were double-edged, there was a strange comfort in being valued, even if it was for her usefulness.
Floyd was a fickle tide; he was unpredictable, and his light always seemed to flicker between whim and disdain. โShrimpy, youโre fun! You donโt bore me as easily as the others!โ he would say with a smile that failed to disguise his capricious nature. Sometimes he would smother her with his attention, with brusque hugs and laughter that lashed like a violent tide, but his effervescence had an edge; when he grew bored of her company, he would abandon her without hesitation.
Jade, always his brotherโs elegant shadow, would approach with his serpentine calm and eyes that seemed to unravel secrets. โItโs always a pleasure having you around, Prefect,โ he would comment with that polite smile that never reached his eyes. His tone was always wrapped in impeccable politeness; she felt like his words were more of an assessment than a compliment. At his side, she felt like a star trapped in a jar, admired only as long as it served to feed his curiosity.
Kalim, with his bright optimism, was perhaps the one who treated her with overflowing kindness, but even warmth could be blinding. "You're a great friend," he would say sincerely, but something in those words made her hesitate. He would seek her out when he wanted to share her joy, but he could never quite grasp her sadness. Sometimes, being by his side was like floating in a sky lit by fireworks, dazzling and joyful but a light that fades when the sun makes its appearance.
With Jamil, the connection was more complicated, a precarious balance like that of a star orbiting dangerously close to a black hole. Always trapped in Kalim's shadow, his own struggles overshadowed any support she might need. โIt is better that you do not get too involved,โ he warned her with his cold tone, his gaze fixed on a point beyond her, as if she weren't even there. Despite that, she sometimes lent him a hand in his duties with Kalim. But she knew that, for him, it was nothing more than a satellite, a secondary star without its own brightness, destined to revolve around something bigger and more important than itself.
Vil was a supernova, bright and blinding, consuming himself in his quest for perfection. โBeauty takes effort, Prefect,โ he told her with brutal frankness, his critical eyes seeing each of her imperfections as something that needed to be corrected. His words, wrapped in the confidence of someone who had always been admired, only reminded her how imperfect she felt around him; his words, though well-intentioned, left her feeling more dulled than enlightened.
Rook, the hunter whose love for beauty was as great as life itself, saw the prefect as a masterpiece. โYou are so fascinating, my dear Trickster,โ he exclaimed, his poetry as intoxicating as it was confusing. His words were a hymn to her uniqueness, but behind his admiration was a disturbing curiosity, as if he wanted to decipher her and reduce her to a simple piece of his endless collection of discoveries and beauties.
Epel, determined to prove his strength, kept her at a distance. โI donโt need you to babysit me like a child,โ he insisted. She admired his determination, but she couldnโt ignore the pain his words left behind. His distance was a reminder that even among the lost, vulnerability was a burden few were willing to share.
Idia kept to himself, always hidden behind the screen of his tablet. โI like having you around,โ he had once told her. They shared the strangeness of not fitting in, but even in that shared solitude, she felt a distance. โWeโre like NPCs, you know? The ones on the outside, the ones who donโt count,โ he had once joked. Despite his isolation, Idia shone, albeit in a dim, reserved way. He took refuge in his solitude; she desperately sought to be seen, to be understood.
Ortho, on the other hand, was always an unwavering warmth. His innocence and curiosity radiated a light reminiscent of a young star: bright, pure, and free of the shadows of a life that never came to be. โYouโre my brotherโs friend, so youโre my friend too!โ he would say enthusiastically, in that tone that made his every word seem like a gift. She knew that, in Orthoโs eyes, she was someone special. Yet she couldnโt help but wonder if her worth depended solely on the connection she shared with Idia. Would he still view her with the same affection if her bond with his brother disappeared? Would she still matter if that thread unraveled?
Lilia was like a dying star, its light still shining brightly, but hiding the imminence of its extinction. "Ah, Prefect, you still have much to learn," he would say with a soft smile, as if he knew something she could not understand. To him, she was a curious flicker in time, something to cherish while it lasted, but without the depth to leave a real mark on his long-lived existence. Like a reminder of what is fleeting, an echo of the lights he had seen go out countless times.
Sebek, with his fiery passion, treated her as if she were a star that had strayed from its course, something that needed to be guided back into place. โThough you are a human without magic, you have some worth!โ Though his words often carried reproach, beneath was a misplaced devotion that she could not ignore. To Sebek, she was a lesser star, one that existed only to reflect the greatness of his lord. Even his attempts to protect her felt like an extension of his own obsession, leaving her trapped in his shadow.
Silver was the stillness of a dawn before the sun, a soft glow that always seemed on the verge of fully awakening. โPrefect, your presence always brings peace,โ he said in a sleepy tone, as if he saw her more as a whisper in the background of his reality than as a clear voice. Yet his perpetual drowsiness created a barrier between them, as if he were trapped in a dream from which he could not wake. To him, she was a star that illuminated his path, but whose light barely managed to penetrate his own lethargy.
Finally, on one of her darkest nights, when the weight of her isolation was almost unbearable, she found Malleus on the outskirts of Ramshackle. He was there, like a majestic shadow under the starry sky, the king of the firmament, an imposing force that always seemed on the verge of consuming everything.
โWhy do you think the stars stay there, so distant, instead of falling and disappearing?โ he asked, his gaze fixed on the infinite. His voice was quiet, with an echo of melancholy that resonated in the cold night air.
She hesitated before answering. โI donโt know. Maybe itโs becauseโฆ they have nowhere else to go.โ
For an instant, he wanted to say something, anything, to fill the void her words had left. But he didnโt. Because, although Malleus would never say it directly, there was something in his voice that seemed like an invitation. As if, in the midst of that immensity that always separated them, he was telling her that her light was enough, too, even if she didnโt see it yet. But there was always a chasm between them, a constant reminder that her light would never be as eternal as his.
The weight of all those glances, of all those words, was building up in her chest as if an invisible hand was squeezing her heart. It had been a long journey, one filled with unforgettable moments, but also marked by a loneliness that no one seemed to notice. Memories of each interaction passed through her mind like a cruel parade. She forced herself to breathe deeply, her trembling hands touching the window glass as her eyes sought solace in the stars again. Yet her mind, treacherous, found one last wound to open. One sentence, cold and implacable, echoed in her memory like a definitive sentence:
โThere is no place in this world where this soul belongs. NONE.โ
The words of the Mirror echoed in her mind, an irrevocable sentence that pierced her heart with the precision of a dagger. She had wanted to prove him wrong. She had tried to fit in, tried to find a place among the people she had come to love and admire, even as each interaction reinforced the truth she so feared. The thought cut through her like a knife, and with it came a single certainty: her presence here had never been wanted. She was no heroine, no savior. She was just a nobody who had fallen into this world at the whim of a mirror.
The sentence continued to echo in her head, stealing the air from her lungs. Her chest tightened, her throat closed, and before she could stop herself, tears began to flow from her eyes. The crying began as a silent tremor, a muffled gasp as she buried her face in her hands. She covered her mouth, desperate not to wake Grim, her little companion, who slept peacefully in the bed. Cruel irony that he, her faithful friend, was not there to notice the sadness of his henchman. The same sadness that she had always hidden behind a smile and an ill-timed joke. Her breathing was irregular, ragged by the effort to contain the sobs that threatened to break the silence of the night. The world seemed to have shrunk to that small corner of her bedroom, where only the stars were witnesses to her vulnerability.
Sometimes, she felt as if her heart were a dying star, flickering weakly in the vast darkness of the sky. Always present, but barely noticeable among so many other, brighter lights, beautiful in its light, but always seeming to be just a heartbeat away from going out.
The crying continued, each tear falling in a desperate, muffled silence. For once, she couldn't even find solace in the stars. Only curses. She cursed her weakness, her loneliness, but most of all, she cursed the day that damn mirror had made her fall into Twisted Wonderland.
โโโโโฉโโโโโโโโโโโโโใหโบโงโหโฉหโโงโบหใโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโฉโโโ
Banners created by miriamladyvoidยฉ Feel free to use; please, reblog, and credit banners.
ยฉMiriamladyvoid 2025. do not steal my work plzโฆโ๏ธ
Language of the flowers of each Banner:
First Banner: Cyclamen: Resignation. Second Banner: Bramble, Rose: Envy. Third Banner: Lobelia: Splendid Misery.
