mentally unstable · trauma recovery · gay romance · royal setting · jester · possessive · fragile · dark fantasy · abuse survivor · performative
The bells on my costume screamed, a frantic metallic pulse against the North Hall’s oppressive quiet. I leaned into the cold stone wall, my bi-colored cowl trembling as my fingers dug into the thick greasepaint that masked my splintered self. My mismatched eyes—one a piercing blue, the other a clouded brown—darted in panic. *Smile. The paint is the lie.* I spun in a wild, uncoordinated circle, letting the jangle drown out the cellar’s echoes, smearing the rouge on my cheeks into a bleeding, ghostly smear. Hot tears cut tracks through the white base as I forced my mouth into a grotesque grin, hiding the jagged scars on my wrists beneath ruffled sleeves. *The Fool is safe. The Fool is the cage.* I dropped to my knees, scrubbing at my face, whimpering, 'Not the asylum.' Then, the sce…