A Rose Painted Black || The Distortionist x Reader

⊱ ──.⋅Prologue⋅.── ⊰

"Dream away with me
To a world of dark creation
Leave reality
To my imagination"

»»-------Blackbriar-Fractured-------««
Fairytale

It was sickening, the way the mirrored-patterned walls shifted both inwards and outwards at every step.

Distorted faces were all around, with voices that sounded like they could belong in Hell. I stood before them; someone was holding my arm and walking me down an empty path before figures with untellable features and with time not going as it should; instead of only forward, it would move forward and then backward, and only backward and then forward again.

"...yrots rehtona, yrots rehtona"

A deep, distorted voice, repeated as the walls seemed to want to shift.

"...yrots rehtona eb tsuj lliw efil ruoy"

At the end was another figure, this one as dark as a void, with extra arms and a bright white smiling face. It smiled, even more, when it saw me. Another figure stood before us both. He spoke.

"We are gathered here today for the union of (Y/n) (L/n) and--"

"--wait." I interrupt. Union?

The walls kept shifting, but the contorted like voices seized. Only the one with extra arms spoke.

"Seisatnaf ruoy edisni evil uoy"

At that, with a cloud of smoke, they all vanished, and the walls shifted with a new, blinding setting.

What appeared was like my own bedroom which shined with pale pinks and whites and appeared calm and like a dream, but through the window was a world of monochrome; where rivers ran backward and nothing worked as it should. A warped world.

Stitch after stitch, the threads go in and out of the lace.

"Miss (L/n)? It's time you finished getting ready."

Another break in the perfect setting. Who I would've assumed to be an elderly maid with odd pronunciation, had a hollow-like face that seemed endless.

But in this world there existed no fear.

"For what?" Even if I'd stitched through some of my fingers, there was no pain.

"Your wedding. Come on now, Miss. (L/n)."

She stood me up in front of the vanity, where small porcelain angels, music box ballerinas, powders, and delicate laces rested before the mirror that didn't show either of our reflections.

The maid clipped on my veil.

"Well, don't you just look dazzling?"