#left 4 dead 1 is a completely different experience than left 4 dead 2...

[beaniebabs]

HI hello is anyone into left 4 dead. i kinda want an excuse to ramble about it

[theharrowing]

Carnival of Terror 🎪 4: I make them dance

The carnival is in town, and it is unlike anything you have ever experienced. Will you make it out alive?

🎪 Jungkook x Female Reader, Jungkook x Yoongi

🎪 word count: 11.7k

🎪 choose your own adventure, friends & strangers to lovers, carnival and circus au, dead dove, horror, possible minor & major character injury & death, supernatural elements & magic realism, nsfw, 21+

🎪 warnings: use of recreational drugs (mdma - time it takes to kick in is sped up for the narrative; feeling unsettled and paranoid; overwhelm); some of you might find Jungkook's behavior to be akin to infidelity, but in the context of their relationship, it's not; explicit smut (vaginal fingering & sex against a wall; multiple orgasms; not quite a blow job; cum swallowing) teasing & use of the word "whore"; being fed water from someone else's mouth; marionette horror; mirror horror; bloody slice across a face.

🎪 note: at best, everyone is a little toxic. at worst, they're a monster in human flesh with dark secrets, that can only exist in this magical realist world. likely, they are something in between. also, if you're in my time zone and see me posting at 2 in the morning, no you don't lmao.

🍧 food note: idk if everyone grew up eating "snow cones" but they're literally just balls of ice and flavored syrup. bingsu and shaved ice are kind of similar, but the ingredients and presentation can differ.

🎪 if you need a little refresher on what happened in the last chapter, i made a handy dandy recap post.

🎪 beta read by @neoneunnajimin!

🎪 posted june. 2024 | read on ao3

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WELCOME BACK TO THE GREATEST SHOW IN THE WORLD!

We left off making questionable choices with Jeongguk. Just how many of our intrepid characters can get lost at once?

POLLS THAT SWAYED EVENTS IN THIS CHAPTER:

ducky & rabbit 1 | ducky & rabbit 2

The little pale crystals taste bitter on your tongue, and you wince in disgust as you reach for the open water bottle that Jeongguk holds in his fingertips, arm outstretched. He eyes you curiously, more openly than you have grown accustomed to, and it excites you. 

"Have you rolled before?" he asks, leaning close as you swallow down two large gulps of ice-cold water. 

"No," you admit with a shiver. 

Not that you know of, anyway. After what you have seen and felt in Seokjin's hypnotic trances, you are beginning to wonder whether perhaps your memories are not the extent of your experiences. Of course, there is a possibility that Seokjin has somehow planted those memories of you in bed with him and Namjoon, but that is a matter for later. For now, you have other matters to attend to.

"You'll like it," Jeongguk insists, stepping close. 

The two of you stand under the shade of the Hall of Mirrors building. With your back inches from the wall, you are unable to hold any space between your bodies.

Your breath feels heavy as you ask, "How do you know?'

Jeongguk smirks. "You like it when your mind is a little fucky, don't you? I mean…you let Yoongi hyung dig his claws into you for long enough."

"What's your excuse?" you ask, equal parts curious and defensive. 

"I love the game," Jeongguk shrugs, easy enough. "Sure, sometimes he breaks my heart, but he always comes crawling back. And in the meantime, I have plenty of distractions."

"Distractions?" you ask.

Jeongguk is far too close, and his lightly floral musk is cloyingly sweet. You find yourself swaying toward and away, toward and away.

"Drugs," Jeongguk says with another shrug. His gaze is pointed as he adds, "And sex." 

It feels like whiplash the way Jeongguk so easily shifts into a completely different person. If you didn't know any better, you would think he and Yoongi were in on something together, and that Yoongi is just off in the periphery somewhere, enjoying the show. 

"How long does it take to kick in?" you ask, ignoring Jeongguk's dark, smoldering eyes and attempting to gaze out at the carnival grounds past him. 

The sun should be going down by now, but it continues to hang high and bright. All around you, music blares, and voices shout. It no longer overwhelms the senses; rather, it feels commonplace.

"Could take an hour. Could take fifteen minutes. With this cut, it's hard to tell."

That is not reassuring. 

"Why is it so inconsistent?"

Jeongguk shrugs. "This cut is strange."

You sigh and accept your fate; what more could you do at this point? Jeongguk seems amused, chuckling a light, twinkling sound – pitchy and melodic. He almost looks childlike with the striped scarf hanging around his neck, tied neatly in the front. 

"Want to walk around and wait to come up, or go inside and get lost?"

Get lost feels like the wrong way to describe precisely what you want, but perhaps it is somewhat accurate.

You take Jeongguk by the hand and go to the left, toward the back door to the Hall of Mirrors – the door that is closest. From the outside, there is no handle, but you instinctively reach for the edge of the door and run your fingers along where there is a small groove in the black-painted wood, allowing you to hook a finger in and open the door. 

"Whoa," Jeongguk mutters, and you think the same, surprising even yourself. 

The room that the door opens up to is dark, and it takes a moment for your eyes to adjust. You pull Jeongguk to the right, whereas the hallway leading into the attraction is on the left, and you find a thick black curtain that you pull out of the way, then discover a small black door. You knock lightly, wait for several seconds, and then yank it open, gaining entrance into an empty space that is clearly not meant for the general public. 

"How do you know about this place?" Jeongguk asks.

"I don't know," you admit. Your body is simply running on autopilot.

The room the two of you find yourself in is rather small and dimly lit, with black walls and nothing to sit upon. There is a small metal hook that locks the door, and you slide it into place. Music plays overhead – the same dizzying organ tunes you have grown accustomed to hearing in this place – and the air feels unusually heavy. 

"I'm surprised you agreed to this," Jeongguk purrs as he crowds your space. 

Instinctively, you step back, knocking your foot against a wooden wall. You stare at Jeongguk as he towers close, keeping your hands to your sides as you try your best to steady your breath. 

"I am too," you admit. 

"Yoongi hyung not enough for you?" Jeongguk teases as he leans close enough to press his body into yours. Warmth radiates, and you melt a little into the wall, allowing yourself to relax. 

Holding firm, steady eye contact, you reach up to rub your palms over Jeongguk's chest, dancing your fingertips over taut muscle concealed under the light, soft, greenish-blue fabric of his shirt. With your left hand, you finger the scarf, giving it gentle tugs.

"Yoongi is more than enough for me," you say, tilting your head playfully. "But he's not here, is he?"

Jeongguk grabs your waist and spins you around. You barely have time to steady your hands against the wall to prevent your cheek from smashing into wood. He presses into you, yanking your hips back until his crotch rubs against your ass, and you sigh a shattered breath as your eyes flutter closed.

"More than enough, hmm?" Jeongguk groans in your ear, voice just above a feral growl. "If that were true, then why are you so eager to let me have you?"

You shrug and whine, "I'm bored."

"Bored," Jeongguk snarls, reaching around to undo your slacks. 

His fingers are quick, and he shoves the material down, then reaches a greedy hand between your legs to rub over your clothed pussy. The material is cold to the touch and still slightly wet, and he tsks in your ear.

"This all for me, or this from earlier?"

"From earlier," you admit.

"When?" Jeongguk asks in a sharp, angry tone.

You grin. "Tunnel of Love."

Jeongguk chuckles, but the sound is deep and swimming with fury. If you didn't know any better, you might think he is planning on ripping you apart.

"I knew it," he all but growls.

Your body simmers with excitement and something else – something that might feel like panic if not for Jeongguk's long fingers roughly stroking over your soiled undergarment. You sigh and press your ass back, feeling the way his erection tents in his pants, tempted to offer to get on your knees and beg for it. 

"He told me all about you, you know," Jeongguk says sweetly, voice far more tame and welcoming. "I know everything."

You hum a curious sound and ask, "Like what?"

"Like how tight you are," Jeongguk says as he pulls your panties aside and lets one finger explore your folds before it dips deep inside. "Fuck," he sighs, breath hot against your neck. "So fucking wet."

"That's all for you," you whine as Jeongguk pulls his finger out and slowly presses it in deep. 

"Yeah?" he asks. "You sure about that? Or is it just me talking about Yoongi hyung that turns you on?"

With a sigh and a light giggle, you say, "Maybe it's a little of both."

"Yeah?" Jeongguk asks, pulling his finger out in a broad stroke that rubs across your clit, making you tremble with pleasure. "You like being hyung's little whore?"

You wonder if Jeongguk is attempting to hurt your feelings despite circling his finger over your bud in firm strokes. All you feel is amusement. 

You attempt to look over your shoulder as you ask, "Are you?"

Jeongguk dips his hand down and slides two fingers in, this time making you hiss. The stretch is not enough to really fill you the way you like, but it feels good. It feels promising. 

From behind, you can hear Jeongguk's other hand at work on his button and zipper. Fabric rustles, his hand pulls away, leaving you empty, and then you feel his cock pressed against your ass. 

"I saw you first," he groans, knuckles brushing over your skin as he strokes himself. "I was the one who pointed you out to hyung. I wanted you first."

He takes you by the hips in both hands and pulls back, forcing your back to arch. You feel trapped in your slacks, unable to spread your legs, but Jeongguk does not seem to mind. He bends and slides his cock against your semi-clothed cunt, causing the two of you to whine in tandem. 

"But Yoongi hyung always gets what he wants," Jeongguk says as he lines his cock up with your hole and thrusts, rubbing his length over your folds and clit. 

A shiver runs along your spine, and you sigh, enjoying the slide even without penetration. Then Jeongguk lines up again and presses slower, steadier, spearing you open. 

Arousal floods quickly, making you moan as pleasure quakes through you. You know that you should be quiet, but it is hard to hold back, and you bite your bottom lip in an attempt to clamp your mouth shut and muffle your sounds. 

Jeongguk is thick, and he moves maddeningly slow, making you feel every little vein and curve he has to offer. Everything is heightened with how sore you are from earlier.

"What was it about me?" you whimper, attempting to keep your voice low and steady.

Jeongguk pulls back and thrusts forward, coating himself in you, making the slide much smoother. Then he buries his nose in your neck as he straightens you from the half-bent position you had found yourself in. 

Your back stays somewhat arched, but you attempt to stand tall and allow Jeongguk's hands to grip your hip and chest, holding you in place. You anchor your palms against the rough wood wall, feeling its tiny grooves filled with paint.

"Everything," he groans as he pulls back and thrusts quickly forward, making you moan in dizzying pleasure. 

The hand on your chest slides up and firmly plants over your mouth. You sigh into the feeling, breathing in the faintly sweet scent of his skin as he sets a steady pace and fucks you. 

"Your smile," Jeongguk grunts, hips slapping against your ass in a punctuated rhythm. "Your laugh. You were so—" Jeongguk's hand slides from your hip, reaches forward, and pinches your clit, "—intoxicating," he growls as you moan desperately into his palm, feeling pleasure burst inside you. 

Jeongguk fucks you hard and fast, groaning against your neck while your hot breath creates a pocket of condensation coating his calluses, his life lines, and his heart lines. Surely, you could be heard by anyone who may approach the little black door hidden behind the velvet curtain, but you cannot bring yourself to care.

You feel euphoric. You feel lost.

"Cum for me, baby," Jeongguk commands, fingers pinching and rubbing your clit in rough but pleasant motions. 

Ignoring the way your chest flutters at the sound of Jeongguk calling you baby, you nod and close your eyes, relaxing as best as you can, eager for release. Fireworks of light and pleasure seem to explode within you, and as you climb higher and higher toward bliss, you feel awash with warm, overbearing ecstasy. 

Desperately, you moan into Jeongguk's palm. You attempt to beg him to make you cum, muttering a muffled prayer of, "Please, please, please." 

Jeongguk angles his hips, pressing himself impossibly deeper, causing your eyes to roll back. Orgasm explodes and you squeal and shake, worried the pleasure might knock you down to the floor. 

But Jeongguk holds you firmly and keeps you steady. Your blunt fingernails dig into the wooden wall, and you quake as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you, threatening to drown you in its undertow. 

"So fucking good," Jeongguk groans against your neck. "You feel so fucking good cuming on my cock."

You are unsure whether it is the drugs or simply Jeongguk, but as soon as you feel as if you are able to relax and come down from your high, another explodes inside you, causing your legs to go weak as you tremble and squeal. 

"Holy fuck," Jeongguk growls. "That's it, baby. Keep squeezing me."

You attempt to moan Jeongguk's name, but your voice is too muffled. The sound of your release squelching with each thrust fills you with shame and excitement, and you wonder whether you have ever cum so hard before. You want to tell Jeongguk as much – want to praise him for how incredibly he fucks you – but all you can do is moan and sob against his damp palm, and take what he has to give you.

"Gonna cum," Jeongguk warns. Then he slides his hand away and asks, "Will you swallow it?"

Without thinking twice, you nod, voice broken and weak as you moan through the last of Jeongguk's firm, deep strokes. 

He pulls out, and you turn, dropping to your knees haphazardly, which are stuck together in your bunched slacks. Your knees sting as they kiss wood, but all you can focus on is Jeongguk's pretty, uncut cock glistening above your face as his fist slowly strokes up the shaft. 

"Open," he commands, leaning with one hand against the wall and towering over you. 

You open wide and do your best to sit high, but a steady tremble works through your entire body, causing you to feel dizzy and disoriented. Jeongguk takes your chin in his hand and slides his cock along your outstretched tongue, and as soon as you close your lips around the tip and suck, tasting your own heady flavor, he pulsates against your lips and cums. 

Jeongguk moans, fingers digging into your jaw, and you do your best to breathe through the gentle thrust of him along your tongue, spurting into your throat. When he sighs heavily and pulls back, you look up, heavy-blinking and holding your mouth open wide. 

The sight above you is heavenly. Jeongguk pants and stares, covered in a sheen of sweat that sticks his shirt to his firm, muscular chest and arms. His face is rosy-blushed, and his dark eyes are wide. 

"Fuck," he mutters, leaving his cock to hang heavy and deflate while he moves his hand to your mouth and presses the pads of two fingers against the mess on your tongue. 

Something is clearly on his mind, and you stare up in waiting. Then he pulls his fingers out, and nods, cracking a smile. 

"Hyung mentioned you were a fucking dirty girl. I bet I could spit in your mouth and you wouldn't mind."

You roll your eyes and retract your tongue, smiling at Jeongguk's audacity. You absolutely would not mind, but he doesn't need to know that. Not when he seems to feel so superior over you. 

Jeongguk tucks himself back into his slacks and then helps you stand. Your legs feel like overcooked noodles, and you stumble back against the wall as you reach to pull your pants up with trembling hands.

Around you, the sound of the music swells and sways, and you would attribute the disorienting nature to the drugs, but this is how it sounded when Namjoon held your hand and pulled you through these halls earlier. You wonder if, perhaps, Namjoon is nearby.

"Feel the effects?" Jeongguk asks, grabbing the bottle of water from where it seems to have been tossed to the floor. 

You stretch your arms over your head, feeling how simultaneously heavy and light they are. "I think so," you mutter. 

Jeongguk takes a drink of water, then steps forward crowding your space. You open your mouth to ask what he is doing as your head bumps against the wall, but Jeongguk simply opens his mouth and dribbles ice-cold water from his lips to yours. 

Most of the water makes it to your mouth, but some drools out to the side, and as the two of you swallow, Jeongguk kisses you, licking deep and causing you to melt into the wall once more. 

You lift your hands to rub against his chest, palms grazing over clothed pierced nipples, making Jeongguk hiss. He licks firmly over your tongue, then pulls a moan from your throat as he sucks on its tip. 

"You taste good," Jeongguk mutters against your lips, urging you on. 

You slide one hand up to scarf around Jeongguk's neck and pull him close, licking fervently into his mouth, tasting and teasing; taking as you please. Jeongguk presses his hips against you, and you chuckle, breaking the kiss. 

"We should get some fresh air," you mutter, feeling warm and increasingly claustrophobic. 

"Alright," Jeongguk mutters, sucking your lower lip between his teeth. You whine until he releases, and sigh as he says, "Let's go."

Jeongguk takes your hand in his, and you can feel residual cold on his palm from when it held onto the water bottle moments ago. It feels nice and grounding as you attempt to get your feet to cooperate and assist you with leaving this place. 

Only, when you exit this small room and walk toward the door that should lead back outside, all you find in its place is a wall. Jeongguk presses and rubs against the black wood, and he sighs when he finds nothing. High on the wall is a blinking red Dead End sign, and you wonder whether there is a proper back exit, or if this attraction is only meant to have one way in and one way out.

"I want to freak out about this, but I feel too high to care," he grumbles, making you laugh.

You would also like to freak out about this and all the other oddities that you have experienced. But you know that it will do nobody any good, and so you sigh and yank Jeongguk toward the hallway that leads into the attraction. 

"Only way out is through, I guess," you sigh. 

Jeongguk falls into step beside you, and as you enter the first hall full of glass and reflected light, dizziness overtakes you. The two of you stumble and giggle, stopping to gawk at your warped reflections, warping them further as you bend and twist. 

You are a little surprised that Jeongguk continues to hold your hand, firmly keeping you close, leading at times, and following at others. It feels nice. Warm and steady. Secure. You nearly forget all about Yoongi.

But then a flash of blue and black moves in the distance ahead, and although you do not clearly see it, you feel it. It has to be Yoongi. 

Jeongguk is giggling as his reflection when you grip tightly to his fingers and pull, causing him to stumble to your side, muttering something under his breath. 

"This way," you insist, staring ahead for any sign of the blur that you could swear is Yoongi. 

You turn your gaze every which way, looking into rooms and staring as far as you can along paths, but all you find are strangers. Amused couples, bored third-wheels, and giggling shapes pressed closely in dark corners. 

"What is it?" Jeongguk asks, slowing and creating resistance. 

"I need fresh air," you sigh as your chest tightens and the air feels constricted. "I just…I need to get out of here."

Time seems even more warped as the drug shimmers through your system, and you search and search, though for what, you slowly forget. All you know is that there is a deep, pounding need in your chest, but as you turn corners and examine rooms, you question whether that need could ever truly be filled.

Far ahead, down the long hallway and past several doorways, you spot a bright shining light appearing and disappearing. Sunlight. 

You yank on Jeongguk, who follows along obediently, holding onto your palm as it increasingly begins to sweat, slickening your hold. He allows you to pass through doorways first and slides easily behind you to allow others to pass. 

When you reach the exit, he steps ahead first and presses the heavy wooden door open, holding it for you. All at once, the air is hot and dry, and as you take in a deep inhale, you are unsure whether you feel better or worse, squinting against the bright sun. 

Jeongguk hands you the bottle of water, and you finally release his hand, lamenting the familiar warmth as your trembling fingers struggle to twist the tiny plastic cap free. You stumble into some shade beside the entrance of the building, and Jeongguk follows. 

He crowds your space and takes the plastic bottle cap, sliding it into his pocket for safekeeping. As you lift the bottle to your lips, you quake and sigh, shivering despite overheating. 

"The come up is sometimes just as rough as the comedown," Jeongguk mutters sweetly. "You probably didn't feel it as badly inside because you were distracted. It'll pass soon."

"Why are you being so nice to me?" you ask, voice weak and pathetic against the small round rim of the bottle. You take a large cold gulp and refrain from finishing off the water despite feeling thirsty enough to want to drown.

"What are you talking about?" Jeongguk asks, laughing. 

As you sigh through the cold gulp, you hand over the bottle, watching as Jeongguk drinks from it with steady hands, much better equipped to handle the drug than you. 

"You called me a whore," you pout, suddenly feeling upset despite not caring before. 

Jeongguk finishes the water and crushes the bottle in his hand, crinkling the plastic as he steps forward to crowd your space. A crazed grin tugs at his lips, and with a lift of his brow, he mutters, "I was only joking," sending a chill down your spine.

"Are you sure?" you ask, doing your best to appear unaffected but feeling jittery.

Jeongguk's look fades and he begins laughing. "You're too much," he mutters, shaking his head. 

Affronted, you attempt to swat him on the chest, but Jeongguk grabs your hand and holds it close. 

"Why are you so annoying?" you grumble, attempting uselessly to yank your hand away. 

"You like it," he responds, grinning as he lets go, causing you to stumble back into the wall from your semi-frantic movement.

The world feels off. Glimmering and electric. Overbearing yet underwhelming. 

"What time is it?" you ask, making no move to reach for the phone in your pocket. 

Jeongguk sighs. "I suppose we should find the others. How long were we fucking?"

His candor makes you shy, and you feel the way heat burns up your neck, to your cheeks. You would attempt to smack him again, but you know it is pointless. 

You look around, wondering whether your friends are still at the game booths where they said they would be. "Where did you tell them we were going?" 

"I told them the truth," Jeongguk shrugs. 

Anxiety rises. "The truth, as in…"

Jeongguk smirks. "They already know about what hyung and I do. No need to act like such a prude about it."

Petulance rises, and you actually lift your hand with the urge to smack, but Jeongguk watches the movement and lifts his eyebrows. He is far too quick, and for your own sanity, you need to minimize the amount of time he spends touching you from this point forward. 

"I'm not a prude!" you grit through your teeth, eager to get your point across without being too loud. 

Jeongguk rolls his eyes. "Look, Tae hyungie originally pointed you out to me. Nobody is going to be shocked by this development."

"Wait…" you grumble, mulling it over. "What?"

Jeongguk shrugs. "He said you would be my type, which of course made Yoongi hyung pounce first. I doubt that he or Jimin hyung would be alarmed or upset if they knew we ended up together, as intended."

You frown, running Jeongguk's words through your mind. The night you met Yoongi, you were with a friend at a house party. That friend introduced you to Yoongi, who later introduced you to Jeongguk. It would be another week before you were introduced to Taehyung and Jimin. What does he mean Taehyung pointed you out?

"Taehyung?" you ask, cocking your head to the side. 

Jeongguk shrugs again. "I don't know," he concedes, seemingly disinterested in dwelling on the details. "He said you were my type, but I'm sure he just meant visually. It's not like you two knew each other."

You softly ask, "What is your type?" and then berate yourself silently, wishing you could just let what transpired in the Hall of Mirrors stay there. 

Regret sinks its claws in as Jeongguk licks over his lips and says, "Pretty. Bratty. Tight."

You roll your eyes and shake your head, scoffing in disbelief. Despite knowing you should bite your tongue, you tilt your chin up as a challenge and ask, "Well? Did I live up to the expectations?"

Jeongguk cracks a smile and says, "Yeah. You're bratty as fuck."

You shove at Jeongguk with both hands, causing him to stumble back into the hot sun and nearly crash into a couple walking by. He laughs, doubling over with his hands on his knees, and stays there for what feels like a very long time, causing you to laugh as well. And then he straightens out and motions for you to follow him while he begins to walk in the direction of a food cart. 

The biggest downside to the drug seems to be how thirsty you become. You also seem to struggle with regulating your temperature, shivering in the shade and feeling stiflingly hot in the sun. 

Jeongguk stands tall on his toes and leans his arms against the high metal shelf of the food cart while he orders a bottle of water and a couple of lollipops. You allow yourself to study his body, noting the way his tiny waist cinches above the band of his slacks, and how his torso curves up into broad, muscular shoulders. 

Tattoos peek out from under his sleeve, littering his hand, and you remember the feeling of metal under his shirt when your palms felt his chest. There seems to be a lot about shy, sweet Jeongguk that you do not know. Perhaps it is no wonder why he and Yoongi get along so well. 

Yoongi. Thinking about him makes you frown. You wish you knew what happened to him when Jeongguk told him to get lost. Everything has felt like a fever dream since you walked into the carnival grounds, and you continuously wonder when you will finally wake up. 

Jeongguk holds out two lollipops, pulling you from your thoughts, and you examine their colorful wrappers, given the choice between grape and cherry. You pick grape, considering how good cherry might taste if you have the chance to suck it off of Jeongguk's tongue later. 

"Thanks," you mutter sweetly, moving away from the food cart to a more secluded area as you pick at the little plastic wrapper with your fingertips. 

With a sigh, Jeongguk sidles up close to you, blocking the sun. You stand near the backs of various trailers, some hitched together, and it feels nice to be away from the crowd.

"Do you feel guilty?" you ask. 

Jeongguk takes his time to fuss with his wrapper, then asks, "About what?"

You turn your head to glance at Jeongguk, but find you would rather keep your eyes on your wrapper, finally peeling it open as you say, "About what we did."

"Why would I feel guilty?" he asks.

You twist the wrapper between your fingertips, feeling the slick plastic that bunches roughly. Your body is warm, and you become increasingly aware of your fixation, bunching up the wrapper and shoving it into your pocket. 

"I think I'm high," you mutter.

Jeongguk snickers. "We already established that."

Your entire body shivers, whether you are cold or not. Right now, you are unsure what you are. Each time a breeze hits you, goosebumps break over your skin, and you reflexively lift your shoulders to your ears. But otherwise, the heat almost feels palpable, like you could cut into it with a knife.

The fact that it still feels like noon with the sun blaring high overhead starts to rattle around in your head, and you glance up at the sky, searching the clouds for movement. Even the sun does not seem to hurt your eyes as you stare directly into it.

How is it possible that time seems to stand still within the carnival grounds? Or have you completely lost your mind? The illusions show begins at 5, and there is no way it is close to that time. 

As you lift the sucker to your lips, sugary grape flavor bursts on your taste buds more intensely than you could have possibly expected. You suck on it, coating your tongue and lips, then pull it out with a wet pop and mutter, "Wow."

"Good, huh?" Jeongguk asks.

You glance up and notice how the cherry lollipop has already stained Jeongguk's lips red. You want to stand high on your toes and trace your tongue over the color in search of just a hint of flavor.  

"There you two are!" Jimin's voice pulls you from your thoughts, causing you to jolt. 

He and Taehyung eye the two of you suspiciously, and you suddenly worry about your appearance. Despite spending so much time in the Hall of Mirrors staring at your warped reflections, you have no idea how you look. 

"Having fun?" Taehyung asks, voice low and curious, eyes mostly on Jeongguk, who shrugs.

"We did some molly," he says plainly, yawning. "She's struggling to adjust, but we should even out soon."

You return the too-sweet sucker to your mouth. Taehyung hums and Jimin gives a worried glance at you before looking around. 

"We don't have to go to the next show if you think it will be too intense," Jimin offers, bringing his concerned eyes back to you.

You shake your head, muttering around the candy, "I wanna go."

Jeongguk gives Taehyung a glance and the two of them seem to communicate telepathically. You lament briefly over not having close enough friendships to be able to read one another in such a way, but you do your best to shove away the thought. 

Taehyung very softly asks, "We still have some time before the show, want to see this weird tent Jimin and I found?"

Something about the thought of a weird tent makes you uncomfortable. You ask, "Weird, how?"

Jimin nibbles on his bottom lip, eyes wide and staring at the ground, and Taehyung says, "You just have to see it. It's hard to explain."

"Where is it?" you ask, feeling as if your entire body is weighed down with lead and unwilling to move as the others turn to walk in its direction. 

"Come on," Jeongguk insists, grabbing for your elbow and yanking you along. 

You expect your newfound weight to hold you in place and keep you anchored in the shade, where it is safe, away from the weird tent, and you are disappointed to discover that you are still merely human, and easy for Jeongguk to drag along wherever he pleases. 

The warmth radiating through your sleeve from Jeongguk's palm to your skin should feel comforting, but you find that it is too warm and somewhat oppressive. You remember rough calluses pressed against your lips.

You do your best to yank your arm away, keeping with his pace, and you are relieved when he lets go. You follow Jimin and Taehyung past the game booths, and you are startled when you see it along the edge of the space: a small tent with stripes that are red and what you assume used to be white, but now look more like a rusted off-tan. 

A shiver runs along your spine, and you instantly feel a sense of ick and dread work its way through you, but your friends are undeterred. In fact, they seem to have a pep in their steps as you get closer. 

"Should we be over here?" you ask. 

Jimin turns, frowning as if you have just said something completely ridiculous, then rolls his eyes and giggles. "There's an opening on the side, and there is no explicit warning to stay out, so I don't see why not."

"You already checked this place out?" Jeongguk asks with a bit of a dreamy slowness to his speech. 

"We started to," Taehyung responds, voice almost too soft to make out over the cacophony of carnival sounds. "But then we decided to come get you two."

Jimin rounds the tent along the right, and the rest of you follow him. Sure enough, the flap is open, and there is no indication that carnival guests are not allowed to enter. Strange, you think, since the tent is sitting somewhat secluded from the rest of the carnival attractions, a peculiar sight that you would think would cause people to want to investigate. 

The tent is not too large, especially compared to those the Kim brothers use, but it is certainly not tiny. The opening is just shorter than your height, but the ceiling is raised several feet higher, and as you duck down and peer inside, just past Jimin's crouching body, it is large enough to contain what looks like a tiny living quarters. 

"Are you sure we should be over here?" you ask again, eyes trailing from the small mattress at the far end of the space, past a kerosene lantern and several closed wooden trunks. There are books strewn about and a pair of boots on the floor. Something about the setup seems personal. Intimate. 

"I assume it is meant to be one of those prop tents," Taehyung says from behind you, peeking to get a look. "To showcase how carnies live…or something to that effect."

"You know how, like, when we visit the historical park that has the buildings still styled the way they were in the Joseon dynasty?" Jimin says. You nod faintly. "Like that."

It is true that this tent may be just another prop, but something about it is strange. Perhaps it is just the molly making you feel so creeped out. Either way, you stand up straight and wiggle away from the entrance of the tent, allowing Taehyung and Jeongguk to step closer. 

It is Jeongguk who walks all the way into the tent, and something about it makes your skin crawl. You shout, "Wait," and reach for him, but before you can react further, Jeongguk jolts backward and trips over himself, nearly falling to his butt on the grass. 

You think you hear him mutter, "What the fuck?" causing goosebumps to break out on your arms and neck. 

"What is it?" Jimin asks at the same time Taehyung says, "Whoa," and Jeongguk shakes his head and takes two steps backward. 

"That was…" Jeongguk trails off, staring at the tent and then shaking his head and chuckling. Only, the sound is less mirthful and more unsure. "Damn. I need to lay off the drugs."

"What happened?" you ask, walking close to Jeongguk and turning your head to glance into the tent. 

Everything looks normal, but you are unwilling to step any closer to inspect it. The unsettling feeling has only managed to grow. 

"I thought I saw something," Jeongguk says, chuckling with unease some more. "Or, rather…someone? I don't really know."

This makes Jimin sigh loudly and stand up, turning to face you and Jeongguk. "Oh, give me a break," he groans. "You're just trying to scare us."

Jeongguk's face brightens as if he has been caught in the act by Jimin, but there is something in his eyes that seems scared and distant. Still, you remind yourself that the two of you are high, and you are definitely feeling heightened paranoia. 

"Okay, well this has been fascinating," you say, walking slowly backward and away from the entrance. "But I still feel like I might be peaking, and I don't think I can handle any more of these creepy ass tent vibes." 

To your delight, Jeongguk nods and follows you. Jimin seems intrigued by the tent, however, and it appears as though Taehyung is pointing into it, whispering something to Jimin. 

"Should we just ditch them?" you ask, only half joking. 

Jeongguk pulls out his phone and glances at it, then says, "We still have a little time before the illusions show. Wanna get in line for a snow cone? I saw a cart on the way over here."

A snow cone sounds amazing and you nod, feeling relief and excitement replace all the earlier dread. Out of stress, or possibly impatience, but likely the thought of enjoying something new, you chomp down on the grape sucker, crunching it between your teeth. Unsure what to do with the sticky grape-stained stick, you twirl it between your finger and thumb.

When you turn to see whether the other two are following, you are disappointed to find they are still bent at the hips and staring into the tent. 

"We're gonna get snow cones," you try, but Jimin does not react, seemingly stuck in a trance. 

It is Taehyung who glances past Jimin toward you and says, "We'll catch up to you."

Jeongguk shrugs and begins to lead the way, so you follow. With each step you take, the ground feels further and further away, and you are beginning to sweat quite a bit. Jeongguk sways his arms as he walks, and you wonder whether it would feel nice to do the same, but as you approach the paths where more people are, you feel too self-conscious to try it. 

"What did you really see in the tent?" you ask, eyes on your feet as they step from grass to gravel.

"Yoongi hyung," Jeongguk says, causing you to nearly trip over yourself.

You halt and turn to Jeongguk, whose brows are knit and eyes are downcast. His toe kicks at a small rock. 

"Be serious," you mutter. 

Jeongguk looks up at you, frowning. "I am serious."

You roll your eyes, reach for his hand, and begin to yank in the direction of a medium-sized rectangular freezer box covered in ice cream and snow cone stickers that is shaded by a tall red and white umbrella. The person working the stand wears a light blue jacket and slacks that match the color of the freezer box. 

The two of you get in line, and you realize you are still holding hands. Sweat drips from where your palms connect, and you attempt to pull away, but Jeongguk holds on tight. You feel gross as your wet skin slides against his, and you yank a little harder until he lets go.

Your mind wanders to Yoongi. Specifically, to Jeongguk and Yoongi. You wonder whether they hold hands as much as Jeongguk seems to want to hold yours. You like the idea of the two of them being so affectionate toward one another. 

There are two other people in line ahead of you, and you watch as a person in a sunflower sundress reaches for a tall paper cone with a ball of bright red ice on top, grabbing it with two eager hands. The person beside them pays and receives their own snow cone – that one orange – and then you take a step forward as the person ahead of you leans forward to place an order.

"You don't believe me," you hear Jeongguk pout, but it takes a moment for you to acknowledge his voice and realize that he is talking about seeing Yoongi inside the tent.

You snicker. "Of course I don't believe you. Nobody else saw anyone in that tent, much less someone who looked like Yoongi."

The person ahead of you in line steps away, and you and Jeongguk step forward. He orders a small cup of vanilla soft-serve ice cream and you order a lime-flavored snow cone, suddenly feeling drawn to how green it is on the display images. 

The attendant mutters about the total, which you can barely hear over the carnival songs that play nonstop and the shouting of people both near and far. You think you hear that it is 4,000 won, and you reach for your wallet, jabbing yourself in the hip with the sucker stick that you continue to hold onto, but Jeongguk swats your hand away before paying with his card. 

The two of you stand in silence, and you wait for the paper cone filled with ice and syrup to be placed into your hands. You lament briefly over not considering the flavors more closely, wondering if you should have picked a berry flavor over a citrus one. 

But when you take a frozen bite from the top, you are delighted by how bittersweet the lime flavor is – how different it is from the grape that lingers in sticky shards against your molars. It is perfectly refreshing for a hot summer day. 

As you walk away from the ice cream booth, you notice that Jeongguk seems to be moseying in the direction of the larger carnival tents rather than where you left the others back at the small weird tent. You have the urge to look over your shoulder to see whether they are still there, but something causes you to continue forward. Unease, you think, of what you may see if you look back there again.

The thought sends a shiver down your spine, and the little hairs on the back of your neck stand tall. Although the snow cone seems to be evening out your high despite the flavor being incredibly intense, your mind continues to race in strange directions. 

A lot has happened since you arrived here, and as much as you want to dwell on all the oddities and attempt to sort out what could be going on, something seems to be stopping you. It is as if each new event is being shoved into one of the various trunks you have seen inside each tent, and it is being locked away for safekeeping. 

You are aware of what is being placed inside the trunks, but without the key to allow you access to each one, your mind is not fully allowed to perceive anything. The notion that your mind palace has become a circus tent filled with trunks makes you snicker. 

You turn to Jeongguk, who has more or less inhaled his soft serve, using his tiny pink plastic spoon to scrape melted dredges from the bottom of the cup. He tips the edge of the paper cup back into his mouth and slurps the final drops, then lowers his arms to his sides and crumples it in his palm.

Suddenly, you feel self-conscious about the state of your own treat, and you wrap your lips around the small orange straw that sticks out from one of the sides and suck down melted ice and syrup. Cloying lime flavor bursts over your tongue, and you stop sucking in order to bite off some of the top ice that is more diluted in order to wash some of the taste away. 

Jeongguk stops in his tracks, and you look up from your lime-flavored ice as you do the same, turning your gaze to him. His eyes are wide, and he stares ahead.

You glance to where you imagine he is staring, but only see a crowd of people separating you from the tents, which are now just across from you, on the other side of a wide pathway. 

Looking to Jeongguk again, you ask, "What is it?"

"I told you I saw him," Jeongguk responds. He looks at you, lifts an eyebrow, then tilts his chin back to where he had been staring. "Look."

This time, when you follow his line of vision, you clearly see what – or, rather, who – Jeongguk was staring at. Standing beside the nearest red and white striped tent, wearing the same blue shirt and black slacks you last saw him in, is Yoongi. 

He seems to be staring back at you, and you blink heavily several times, unsure whether it really is him. 

Without another word, Jeongguk takes off walking briskly, twisting his body this way and that while narrowly avoiding strangers whose paths he cuts across. Your feet hesitate, then you begin to walk as well, more slowly and excusing yourself before stepping into someone's path, doing your best to keep your eyes on the back of Jeongguk's head and refrain from dropping your snow cone. 

Once you are out into the clearing, on the grass beside the large tent and no longer dodging passersby, you take several quick steps until you are standing beside Jeongguk, whose arms are outstretched and shaking. You feel overwhelmed, the sun is bright, and you squeeze your eyes closed before opening them and taking in the scene before you.

Yoongi stands still staring at Jeongguk, arms to his sides. His shoulders are in Jeongguk's hands, and although Jeongguk shakes Yoongi, shouting something you cannot make out, Yoongi just looks at him blankly, unmoving aside from the jostling he cannot control.

"Say something," Jeongguk demands. He shakes harder, and Yoongi moves along like a ragdoll. "Yoongi! Hyung, say something!"

Everything about this feels wrong. You absentmindedly drop what is left of your snow cone and reach up with two heavy hands to place them on the arm closest to you, yanking it away from Yoongi's shoulder. 

"Stop," you mutter weakly, eyes glued to Jeongguk's arm. "Jeongguk, stop."

Jeongguk drops his arms and then forcefully shakes your hands away from him. The harsh movement surprises you, and you take a step back, dizzy and concerned.

"This has nothing to do with you," Jeongguk says in a tone that feels hurt and angry and a myriad of other things.

You cannot bring yourself to look up, and instead, you stare at Jeongguk's black boots. "That's not— I just don't think you should be jerking him around like this," you say, almost to yourself as tears prickle your eyes.

Jeongguk scoffs. "Our relationship has nothing to do with you." His voice is calmer and quieter, but there is still an edge to it. "You're just a pretty little plaything we both enjoyed. Nothing more."

You shake your head. Jeongguk is understandably emotional, but you will not allow yourself to be pushed away so easily. "No. I care. You can't just—"

Jimin and Taehyung have appeared and are shouting while wrapping Yoongi in a hug. And then, in a blink, the sky is dim. It appears to be evening time, but the air holds the same oppressive heat. 

You feel disoriented from the sudden change and consider sitting down on the lime-sticky ground, but a familiar man clad in white appears before you, and you lift your head to find his head cocked, eyes watching you intently. 

"It is time," Jack says, lifting a hand and pivoting to point somewhat to the right, ahead of you.

You turn your gaze to find one of the Kim brothers rolling back the end of a large red and white tent flap and securing it so that it rests open. A black top hat on his head prevents you from telling which one he is until he lifts his head and his eyes meet yours. 

Namjoon stands clad in red and black. His gaze is soft and attentive and familiar in a way that makes your heart ache.

"Are you ready?" Jack asks. 

Trepidation fills you. "I don't know," you mutter.

Jack laughs. "Come, then," he says, placing his hand on your arm while his other hand continues to point toward the tent opening, which you can see from the periphery; your eyes are still on Namjoon. "No sense in wasting time."

You glance around and realize that Jeongguk and Yoongi are no longer standing nearby. The back of Jeongguk's head is with Jimin and Taehyung just ahead of you, in line to enter the tent, but you do not see Yoongi's tuft of dark hair with them. You attempt to look around, but the group of eager audience members has closed in on your right side, and you are unable to see past anyone.

You decide to keep up with your friends, and as you approach the entrance, Namjoon reaches a hand and takes one of yours. His warmth feels like home, and you stare at your hand in his. 

"After the show, I would like to speak with you," he says. "Come to the tent. Jack or Hoseok will show you the way."

You nod, eyes on Namjoon's hand, which gives yours a squeeze, and then lets go. As you look up, ready to ask why Namjoon wants to see you, he turns in a flash of red velvet and enters the tent ahead of you, walking briskly into the darkness on the left. You are ushered inside and to the right. 

Your group follows the familiar path by rote, along the back of tall wooden bleachers, then to the left and down a path leading to the front row, in an area where nobody else is seated. Seokjin is standing in front of the seats but on the stage floor, speaking with Hoseok, the twin in black. Jack stands on the outside of the row of seats, palm held upward, signaling where to go.

As Jimin settles, then Taehyung, and then Jeongguk, you realize there is definitely no Yoongi. The seat to your left is empty, and it is the last one in the row. You glance around, wondering whether he is off somewhere just in the distance. Perhaps, you think, he will join you once the show starts.

You turn to Jeongguk, who stares down at his open hands. His eyebrows are pinched, and he appears lost. 

"Jeongguk?" you ask, voice low and hushed.

"He just…disappeared," Jeongguk mutters.

You look around, watching as people fill the seats of the tent, then return your gaze to Jeongguk, who is unmoved. "What do you mean?"

Jeongguk blinks several times, then shakes his head in shallow movements. "I was shaking him. Telling him to say something. Anything." His voice is monotone. He almost sounds programmed to speak; emotionless. "Hoseok hyung said something to me, and I turned to look at him for only a moment, and when I turned again, Yoongi was gone. It was like he vanished into thin air."

The notion is so ridiculous, you feel your lips crack into a smile. You want to shove at Jeongguk and tell him to quit the act. "What do you mean, vanished? Your hands were on him. Didn't you feel him go?"

Jeongguk turns his gaze to you. His eyes are filled with tears, and he appears devastated. Your heart sinks at the sight of him – at the gravity of his gaze – and you tear your eyes away, to Seokjin standing about ten feet away on the stage floor watching you. 

Seokjin pulls his black top hat from his head and lowers his gaze as he bows. He wears a dark green jacket that matches Namjoon's red one, and as he stands up straight and places his hat back onto his head, he stares at you, grinning. 

The lights in the tent go out, but you continue to watch Seokjin's grin. A spotlight shines onto the center of the stage, behind Seokjin, and you want to lift your gaze and look – to confirm whether it is Namjoon standing in the spotlight – but your eyes remain glued to the devious smile before you. 

“Come one, come all!” Namjoon's voice calls, booming over the cheers and clapping of the audience. Seokjin lip-syncs along, matching Namjoon's timing perfectly. “Welcome to Carnival Bizarre! The greatest show in the world!”

A symbol crashes, piano keys pound in a cacophonic crescendo of sound, and you look up to find Namjoon standing in the spotlight, arms outstretched, with fireworks bursting and crackling up from his outstretched fingertips. 

When you look back to where Seokjin had just stood, nobody is there. You glance to the left, to the darkness of the bleachers across the path, then behind you as far as you can see, twisting this way and that, but no familiar faces greet you aside from Jeongguk, who watches ahead with tears in his eyes. 

Delicate piano music plays, and Namjoon holds his left arm out in front of him, palm downward. You see something shimmering below his hand, glinting in the spotlight, but you are unable to make out what it is.

A golden glow of light fills the area, not enough to brighten the tent, but enough to allow you to see faint shadows cast all over. They remind you of wooden drawing mannequins with rounded shapes for hands and feet, and ball joints between each limb. 

"Strings," Namjoon says, voice soft but booming in the surrounding speakers. You blink, returning your gaze to him, and you think that you can make out thick, dark strings hanging from Namjoon's fingertips that glimmer in the spotlight. Namjoon dances his fingers up and down, causing the strings to jump and sway, and you stare intently. "I control them with my movements. Small and deliberate. I make them dance."

All around, the silhouettes dance. Their legs spread strangely, and their arms jerk around, showing that they are all being controlled by strings. Your eyes move from left to right, watching the figures move, until you notice something.

To the right of Namjoon is a large dark mass. It is mostly in shadow, hard to make out, and you stare and stare until finally, you realize that it is a large piano. The music that plays throughout the space is predominantly that of a piano, and you squint and strain your eyes, trying to see whether someone is sitting before this one, but you see nobody.

"Will my lovely volunteer please join me?" Namjoon asks, and you tear your gaze back to him, then glance eagerly around the dark tent. 

A new spotlight shines behind Namjoon, just to the right, past the piano. There, a figure stands near an entrance across the way that you imagine could lead to the backstage area. The figure has short, dark hair, but his head is tilted downward. He makes you think of Yoongi.

He wears a dark blue fitted jacket with rows of gold down the front that you imagine may be frog knots – hussar style. But from this distance, feeling as high as you are, it is hard to be certain. 

"Yoongi?" Jeongguk mutters, adjusting in his seat and making you glance to your right. 

Jeongguk frowns, and you open your mouth to speak, but your attention returns to the center of the tent as piano music picks up to a medium tempo and you notice Namjoon moving his hands. 

It appears as if Namjoon is only lifting certain fingers, causing certain strings to respond. And, it appears as if with each movement, one of the legs of the volunteer moves, causing him to walk forward into the space. 

In fact, you think you can see something shimmering in long strings from the tops of the man's black shoes, from the backs of his hands, and from the crown of his head. But as your vision moves upward, the strings seem to disappear. It is some illusion, indeed. 

"Small movements are easy to control with just my fingers," Namjoon says.

He raises his right hand and seems to touch two of the strings hanging from his left. You notice the arms of the volunteer sway. The man truly appears as if he is a puppet being manned by Namjoon, and there is a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach that this may not be an illusion. 

Heavy-blinking and shaking your head, you attempt to clear away the errant thoughts and focus solely on the show. Of course, the man is not really a volunteer. Clearly, this is a practiced routine between two actors. 

As the man approaches the piano at the center of the floor, it is hard not to notice all the ways in which he reminds you of Yoongi. The hair seems a little shorter – a little straighter than he had been wearing it. But his broad shoulders and large hands…his lithe waist and long legs…the resemblance is there. 

And then you remember it: the card Seokjin handed you while inside Namjoon's tent. There was a figure with dark brown hair wearing a blue jacket, and he was playing a piano. The bottom of the card read, The Fool.   

"Large movements, however…" Namjoon trails off.

The man stops just before the instrument – which you now realize is an organ. Namjoon raises his right hand at the same time his left hand makes a sudden movement, and all at once, the man lifts his head and a round curtain falls around him and the organ, causing you to gasp. 

Namjoon continues, "Large movements, I must control with my mind."

You sit up straight, holding your breath, certain that it has to be Yoongi behind that curtain. 

"This volunteer of mine is a regular man," Namjoon insists, using his right hand to lift the hat from his head and tip it as he makes a small curtsey motion, showing that he is a man of his word. A gentleman. "He has no formal training, and he has never visited this circus before. He is—"

Namjoon stands up straight and looks forward. You think, directly at you. 

"—a stranger."

There is a harshness to Namjoon's tone that is matched by a solemn note echoing throughout the tent, though you do not think it is from the organ behind the curtain. The music is soft and fleeting, arriving and dissipating for dramatic effect, likely from a soundboard backstage. 

And then, the music is gone entirely. Silence hangs, save for your heaving, anxious breaths.

"Volunteer," Namjoon says magnanimously. You and Jeongguk shift in your seats. "Play Passacaglia in D minor by Dieterich Buxtehude."

The round curtain lifts with the movement of Namjoon's hand, and sitting before you in a blue hussar jacket adorned with golden embroidery, is Yoongi. He begins his song the moment he is commanded to do so, and with the organ angled just so, you can see his hands moving over the keys. Namjoon's right hand sways in small conductor movements, up to the center and down to the side, as if keeping Yoongi's tempo.

Shimmering strings appear to jut out from Yoongi's hands and the crown of his head. You swallow thickly, watching Yoongi play, never making a single mistake, as if he has practiced this song over and over again. All around, in the periphery, you can see that the silhouetted mannequins are dancing.

Your heart is a caged animal thrumming behind your ribs. The song Yoongi plays is somewhat slow-paced, with both bright sounds and sad ones, tugging you between highs and lows, making you feel extremely unsettled. There is a sort of discordant nature to the song that strikes a deep, hollow longing inside you, as well as a sense of hopefulness. 

You wonder whether Jeongguk is as enraptured as you, feeling the same way you may, but you do not turn your gaze. You do not dare so much as blink for fear of Yoongi disappearing again.

"Faster, now," Namjoon commands, moving his hand much more quickly. Yoongi's tempo increases, matching Namjoon's movements. Although you do not take your eyes off Yoongi, it is clear that the shadows are moving faster, too. 

Lights swirl, and there is something like glitter sparkling in the air, threatening to distract you, but you do not fall prey to the petty tricks of the illusionist. You sit on the edge of your seat, elbows digging hard into your upper thighs, mouth dry and hung open, and you watch intently.

"That's it," Namjoon says, speeding his movements again. "Faster, now! Faster!" 

Although you can still hear the song that was playing earlier – can still make out the familiar modular rhythm and predict each sound that comes next – it is harsh and cacophonic. Dizzying. At last, you blink and lick your lips. Your shoulders are tense and raised, and you breathe slowly, nearly holding your breath.

Around you, the shadows are tangled and chaotic, and it is impossible not to avert your gaze whenever a head rolls or a limb snaps. You think you hear wood splintering and cracking, and although Yoongi is made of flesh and bone, you worry for him.

Namjoon shouts, "Enough!" and uses the fingers of his right hand shaped like scissors to cut beneath his left hand, where strings would be hanging from his fingertips. 

Yoongi falls limp and the song ends in an abrupt crash as his hands and forehead meet the keys. You gasp. Beside you, Jeongguk stands up from his seat.

The round curtain falls over Yoongi and the organ, and the spotlight cuts out, leaving just the one on Namjoon glowing. There are no silhouettes on the walls.

All around you, shimmering silver strings fall like snow from the ceiling, landing on your hair and in your lap, draping over your limbs and creating a sort of mist that obfuscates the stage just long enough for everything but Namjoon to disappear. 

Jeongguk looks as if he is about to jump over the shin-high wooden railing and down onto the floor in search of his boyfriend. He grumbles and fights with Taehyung, who appears to be holding him in place and muttering something low and angry. 

On the stage, Namjoon lifts both arms, which are covered in silver strings, and he bows. The audience stands, claps, and cheers. You feel glued to your seat. 

Upbeat organ music plays and the lights come up, but it is only when Hoseok appears clad in black before you, that you move. You heavy-blink, eyes struggling to take in the brightness of the overhead lighting while silver glitters all around you. The air feels heavy and oppressive, and you are suddenly eager to leave.

"Kim Namjoon would love to see the two of you," Hoseok says, eyes trailing between Jeongguk and you. Then he glances further past Jeongguk, to Taehyung and Jimin, adding, "If you don't mind."

You neither hear nor see their responses. Hoseok steps over the wooden railing and walks past you along the path, leading the way. Jeongguk walks without waiting for you, slamming into your right and causing you to trip as you twist to follow. Then he wraps his arms around you, pinning your arms to your sides and steadying you, causing you to flush hot from head to toe. 

Hoseok does not wait, and you hurry ahead, yanking from Jeongguk's arms to make your way along the path. Rather than turning right, to the entrance, he turns left. You follow Hoseok into the darkness, around the inner perimeter of the tent, toward an opening from which a red light glows. 

Your stomach churns, and you swallow the trepidation that builds and builds. Behind you, Jeongguk mutters, "Where are we going?" but you do not have the answer, so you pay him no mind and continue forward. 

Before you can worry further, Namjoon appears in the doorway. His gaze is soft and inviting, causing your worry to dissipate. As if being pulled on a leash, you hurry to him, stopping only when the toes of your shoes meet the tips of his. 

Namjoon looks at you with reverence, smiling softly. Then he looks past you, expression painted over with something more neutral and polite. He nods to Jeongguk, then pivots to walk into the red light. 

"This way," he says, leading you through a hallway to the wall of the tent, which he reaches for and pulls away, revealing the outside world, which is still somewhat dim and feels like the evening. There is another tent opening just across from this one, which Namjoon steps inside of, pausing in its entryway to wait for you and Jeongguk.

You turn in time to see Namjoon pull the tent flap down. You watch as it seemingly disappears and becomes the tent wall; no seams or hems giving its edge away.

"I have something that the two of you must see," Namjoon says, walking toward his desk on the right side. You realize that in the past, you have entered on the opposite end of the tent, and you gaze around at the newfound view, taking in the trunks and clothing to the left, the piles of books to the right, the bed just ahead.

"Where is Yoongi?" Jeongguk insists, walking past you to Namjoon. Jeongguk stands up straight, squaring his shoulders, and you notice a tremor in his balled fists. 

Namjoon appears unfazed and simply blinks at Jeongguk before belatedly offering him a friendly smile. 

"Yoongi is safe. Once he is finished backstage, you will see him again."

"Finished with what?" Jeongguk demands, chest heaving. "What is he doing back there?"

Namjoon turns to face you and lifts a hand, beckoning you forward. You had not realized you stopped walking about halfway, and you slowly make your way toward the two of them, each step feeling heavy. 

You approach and round the desk somewhat, putting the bed behind you, keeping it from view. The bed brings back flashes of Seokjin's hypnosis show and cause your cheeks to burn hot, so you do your best to tamp the images down. Jeongguk stands to your right, anger pouring from him as he waits for a response.

"Take this, ducky," Namjoon says. "Peer into this mirror and tell me what you see."

Sound becomes fuzzy, and you lean forward as Namjoon lifts a mirror from his desk and holds it out to you, cradling it carefully in both hands. It is an oval hand mirror with an ornate brass frame and handle. 

You take the mirror in both hands, gripping it tightly around the handle while the fingertips of your left hand cradle the back. At first, you only see your face. But then, you see something in the reflection behind you, hanging from the ceiling.

Pale limbs are wrapped in bright red rope. The patterns and knots appear artistically done.

"Rope," you mutter, squinting and tilting the mirror past your own face. For a split second, you glance over your shoulder, expecting to see the suspended visitor, but all you see is an empty space beside Namjoon's bed.

Looking at the mirror again, you hold it so close that your breath fogs the glass. You think that you can see dark hair hanging on one side, and pale feet on the other. Once again, the figure you see reminds you of Yoongi. 

"Is that…a body?"

"Yours?" Namjoon asks.

You shake your head. "Not mine."

"Interesting," he says. "Good. This is good."

You look up, over the edge of the mirror, to Namjoon. Silver strings hang from your hair and glimmer over your eyes, and you think about pale limbs wrapped in red rope – about the snowfall of silver strings inside the tent. 

His gaze is on you, and there is an easy smile on his lips. You tilt your head, asking, "What is it?"

Namjoon watches you, eyes slowly darting back and forth as if taking you in and deciding what to say. His soft, familiar gaze returns and your body yearns for him. Curiosity and arousal simmer through you, and you cannot help but stare directly into his dark brown eyes – sharp as a dragon's but deep as the sea.

"Try as I may to weave the strands together in any order I wish," Namjoon responds, lips down turning to a gentle frown, "you are the one who chooses the order of the strands. I am merely a conduit."

Namjoon's words roll over you in a tall, slow wave. They crash, covering you and breaking around your feet, only to dissipate into nothing. He is speaking in sentences you should be able to parse easily – uses phrases that some part of you understands. 

But you know that there must be a deeper meaning, and that part of you who you are certain knows what that meaning is, feels buried, somehow, and all you can do is blink owlishly and mutter, "Huh?"

Namjoon laughs a soft quiet sound that dies in his mouth but twists his lips into a beautiful, genuine smile. You stare, confused as ever, waiting for some sort of explanation. 

"Jeongguk," Namjoon says instead, reaching for the mirror and taking it from your grasp. 

You feel caught in a daze as you allow the mirror to be taken, putting up no resistance. Your arms fall limply to your sides.

Jeongguk does not handle the mirror with care. Rather, he grips it on both sides, thumbs digging into the glass as he peers into it. At first, he appears angry and impatient. But then his eyes widen with fear, and his hands begin to shake. 

"Jeongguk?" you ask, stepping forward. 

Jeongguk shakes harder, his grip on the mirror turning his fingers white. You reach for it, but stop your movement when you hear the sharp sound of the glass cracking.

Namjoon lets out a sigh and says, "Oh, dear."

You glance from Namjoon to Jeongguk and notice a jagged red line opening across Jeongguk's forehead, over the bridge of his nose, and down to his cheek. Jeongguk gasps, lets out a crazed shout, and opens his hands. 

"This is no good," Namjoon says as the mirror crashes to the floor. 

* * *

My blossoms are falling What a strange feeling When it's so early in the year As soon as they are flowers They go and leave forever Sweet blossom Where is your tree? * Their happiness will shine Their happiness will grow And I hope you don't mind if I let them go

🎵 visit the playlist!

HELLOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 💜💜💜 i am no longer going to promise to be back sooner bc it is always a lie. 💀 i had the writer's block/getting straight As/grief trifecta all year, but i am............well, i shouldn't even say it bc i don't wanna jinx it but i hope i am back??? god, this chapter was so much fun to write and it genuinely invigorated something so 🤞🤞🤞 fingers fricken crossed.

POLLS WILL GO UP SOON!!! i only have one so far that is planned, but i am going to outline a bit and see what other fates i can place in your hands. polls will run for 7 days and i will do my best to reblog!!!

thanks for your patience. i love you. i have missed you.

COMMENTS AND REBLOGS MEAN THE WORLD, AND LIKES ARE APPRECIATED, TOO!!! STAY HYDRATED. 🤍

tags will be in a separate reblog! 🎪 visit the master post to read the disclaimer & request to be tagged! tag list includes the polls!!!

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Carnival of Terror is a Goosebumps-inspired fic, copyright theharrowing 2023 - 2024. no translations or reposting allowed!

[anki-of-beleriand]

Bad Liar ch. 16

Summary: Life is about lessons, and Wanda has been learning some harsh facts that had define her life and taken her to a place in which she was given a second chance. Then, all of a sudden, she meets you, and she realizes why it's easier to lie to yourself than to accpet what's right in front of her.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff/ Female!reader - America/Kate - Mentions of past Vision/Wanda - past Natasha/Reader - Some Female!Reader/Carol Danvers - Mentions of Natasha/Maria being married

Warnings: Slow burn - Enemies to friends to lovers - Mentions of abusive relationships - Toxic relationships - angst - drama - mentions of abuse - violence - mentios of abused and sexual assault - more tags as the story progress.

Author's note: The aftermath of the confrontation with Vision, and the realities Wanda now needs to face.

Guys, we are almost there!!! Two chaptrs to go! Please rmemeber English is not my mother tongue so forgive my grammar, spelling and funny mistakes, hope you like this one.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Chapter 18

Chapter 16

New Year’s Eve

There was a constant beeping inside your head.

Your mind broke into several images at first, your ears twitching trying to grasp the source of the beeping noise without any success. At first, it was difficult to get a hold of your consciousness, your mind was a pool of different sections of memory that made you dizzy at first, then it stopped. 

A gun.

Screams.

Wanda!

The beeping became a deafening whistle and then it stopped. 

Your eyes popped open only for you to close them again with an exclamation of pain leaving your lips. You tried to lift your left arm but it was heavy, numb to any other sensation; thus, trying to protect your eyes from the lights above your head was impossible. You grunted, clenching your eyes close tightly, until a soothing hand placed itself on your right hand.

“Y/N?” America mumbled softly; her voice denoted the tiredness the young woman felt though there were traces of excitement right there. “Y/N?”

“Ugh, just give me a few minutes, I feel like my head is going to explode.” You whispered back making a face while trying to open your eyes once more, this time around slowly and squinting your eyes so as not to bother the retina.

America sighed in relief, her lips drawing a sad smile while she grasped her sister’s hand. The moment she had been brought into the hospital; America feared the worst but was soon calmed down by Tony telling her nothing too life threatening had happened. Just a gunshot on the arm, and a few badly cured wounds and bruises you couldn’t keep up with any longer. 

“Wha-What happened? Wanda…Wanda, the kids…America!” 

You jerked awake completely almost falling on your side while trying to sit up, America jumped away only to go back to you trying to push you back on the bed. She frowned, shaking her head until her eyes finally found yours, reading in them the desperation you had been experimenting all day.

“I’m here, they are here, we’re fine.” America tried to sound reassuring, pressing you back on the bed, “come on stop struggling, you idiot! You’re hurt and need to take it easy for a moment.”

It wasn’t until then that you noticed the bandages covering your sister’s wrists, she too held some bruises and cuts on her face but otherwise America was unharmed. Your eyes went big, this time around you lifted your good arm cupping your sister’s face.

“Kiddo, are you alright? God, I’m so sorry…”

America swallowed down her emotions nodding curtly, “I’m…I’m okay. I’m fine.”

“Your wrists…”

“I-I cut myself trying to get away from the ropes.” She explained looking at the bandages, “I couldn’t and perhaps if I had done so…”

“You would be dead.” You replied wrapping your right arm around your sister putting her to you. “I’m sorry, I put you in danger kiddo, I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. I’m sorry.”

America slumped down holding onto you with tears forming in her eyes, her arms sneaking under your body until she was hugging you tightly. You felt your own tears prickling in your eyes, holding onto the only family you had left. 

“I was so scared.” She whispered between sobs, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, I’m sorry that…that she didn’t tell you everything.”

You blinked slowly while pushing America away for a moment, you tilted your head trying to sit down. America soon was by your side lifting the bed and helping your position on the bed, she was still crying softly but relief was quite evident in her features.

“What do you mean everything? Who was supposed to tell me everything?” You dragged the words tilting your head, America tensed with her brows knitting together.

“Wanda.” She spat out shaking her head, “Me and the others found out she had been living with that asshole for a time now, I confronted her when things with you were getting serious, she told me she would speak with you but…”

“Wait, you knew about Wanda’s husband? You dug into her past without consulting me?” You snorted, shaking your head, “she told me about Vision. She told me…”

“That he almost killed her and the twins several times? That the last time she was put into the hospital she decided that was enough because the man burned a knife on Tommy’s back while she was out?” America exclaimed with her voice getting louder and louder with every word.

“That the man had a restrained order? That…that, I almost lost you?” America was shaking by now, it was as if she had been containing herself until that point and seeing you like this, all hurt and weak finally broke the resistance inside her.

“It is her fault! It’s all Wanda’s fault!”

You winced trying to incorporate, almost falling on your knees you grabbed America and pulled her towards you hugging her as tight as you could. A part of you understood where this was coming from, America had never seen your parents’ bodies the way you had to, she had only gone to the funeral so she was never there to see their broken bodies still, the trauma lingers and the fear that was trying to consume America was something you had already experienced. You were her only family, if she lost you then what would be of her?

She hugged you back sobbing silently against your chest, your body protested at the stress you were putting it into but you didn’t care. You waited until America seemed to calm down, your voice finally reaching out to her more logical part instead of her emotional one.

“It’s okay to be angry, Kiddo, it’s okay…” You whispered with your hand drawing soothing circles on her back, “but it’s not Wanda’s fault, or yours, or mine…Kiddo, what others do, what others decide to do is not our fault…This is the fault of a man that wanted to be evil, Wanda was just a victim, like you, like me…but we cannot blame ourselves when he is the one that should be carrying with this.”

America took a breath holding back her rage and her fear, she didn't agree nor she denied your words, instead she stepped back giving you a quick check up. You were wearing a hospital gown, your left arm had been put on a sling holding your arm tightly against your chest. Your face was covered in bruises, with your hair badly combed with a paleness that came with the concussion and the tiredness you felt the day before. 

“You were lucky,” America stated pointing to your arm, “the crazy woman, she went mad shooting like crazy she just hit your arm, the…they have to shoot her down.”

You gulped nodding curtly while glancing at your arm, you didn't remember much after the initial shooting. But you remembered the burning pain, the numbness going on your left side and then just giving into darkness. 

“What about…?” You didn't finish the question, America shook her head.

“He was arrested, not before he almost killed Wanda with his bare hands.” 

America had heard enough from Tony and that one eyed man, she had been taking care of the twins when this was mentioned and of course she had seen Wanda come into the emergency room right after you. Everything had been so confusing she could barely remember anymore, or at least tried to pinpoint where to go whenever she felt lost. Kate had been released early in the day and while she offered to stay, America knew Kate’s mother would want to be with her. 

You sat down on the bed again, your knees trembling under the weight of your body. You winced finally feeling the effects of the medication wear off.

“How is Wanda?” You asked tentatively, America tensed up nodding to the door.

“She is at the other end of the hall, with Billy and Tommy.” Then after a moment of hesitation, “Hope is with them.”

“Have you talked to Hope already?” You inquired lifting a brow at your sister, the young woman shrugged looking away from you. “America…”

“I'm just happy you are okay.” America let herself drop right beside you, you smiled wrapping your good arm around her. 

“I'm happy you and the others are okay.” 

America sighed, closing her eyes, “do you want something? I need to tell the doctor and the nurse you are okay.”

“It's Vodka an option?” You teased, America snorted, shaking her head.

“I can try.”

“Please do, and while you're at it try to record their reaction.” 

America chuckled, pushing you playfully while standing up.

“If you're cracking bad jokes already, that means we will be home on time for the New Year celebrations.”

You frowned, cocking your head while speaking again.

“What do you mean? What day is today?”

This time around America was the one frowning, “It's New Year's Eve, more exactly we are eight hours away from the new year.”

“Woah, so I was unconscious what? Twelve hours?”

“More or less, yes.” 

“I was lucky.”  You stated absentmindedly, America glanced at you for a long time before nodding.

“We were lucky.” America didn’t say much after that, you furrowed your brows trying to actually feel the strength coming back to your body.

“Even if I’m not release today, we should celebrate New Year today,” you dared to glance at America who pursed her lips nodding curtly, “I mean, we shouldn’t stop celebrating the good things in life, and well…”

America let out a heavy sigh, she passed around the room stopping right in front of you. Her hands placed carefully on your shoulders and for the very first time you saw your stepmother in her, the same determination behind her brown eyes and her serious features.

“I have never felt so afraid before, Y/N, and while I was there trying to get away I was…I was feeling powerless to help the twins, to help Kate, to help Wanda.” America trailed off never breaking her eyes contact with you, she swallowed down her tears opening her mouth with a quivering lip.

“I thought what you would do, and when I heard him said he had killed you,” America snorted, “I was ready to do something foolish, yet I felt so defeated.”

“America…” You started but she then broke into a half smile, shrugging while squeezing your shoulders comfortingly.

“Then I heard you were okay, that you were trying to get me and the twins out of it and I knew.” America rolled her eyes punching you lightly on your good shoulder.

“What did you knew know?” You asked when America didn’t elaborate, the young woman lifted her chin stepping back nearing the door.

“That you are in love with Wanda, that you love those kids as if they were your own, and that you would never let anything bad happen to me or them, even if you have to sacrifice yourself.”

You broke into the same smile, shaking your head you offered a sheepish stare to America.

“What can I say? It is the foolish in me, perhaps in another life I was a hero.”

“Perhaps, you doofus, I think…it would take time, but I understand.” She mumbled with her eyes shining lightly.

“I know, kiddo, I know.” You called to her and she stopped right before closing the door, “I think more now than ever they will need a big sister, you know?”

America snorted shaking her head, “it’s good then that I learnt how to be a good big sister from the best.”

And with that, America left you alone while she went to look for the doctors. You kept your eyes on the white door for a long time, your mind numb giving into the growing pain on your left side. You didn’t dare to let your thoughts wander towards Wanda or the twins for fear of just jumping to your feet and running to her room. Whatever had happened, whatever stated she was in the last thing you wanted to do was to overwhelm her or scared her away. You could still remember the fear in her eyes, the sudden changed in her whole demeanour while she gave into a state of numbness that broke your heart.

You took a deep breath, looking around you found America’s mobile and after a moment of hesitation you grabbed the gadget watching the time and the day. With a trembling thumb, you decided that you wouldn’t let this to change things with Wanda or America or even Billy and Tommy.

A plan already forming on your mind.

__________________

It took fifteen minutes for everyone to come rushing into your room as soon as the news of you waking up reached them up.

As you expected it, Christine and Strange were the first to come rushing into your room ready to check over your wounds and bandages. Your chest exploded into a wave of warm affection when they started fuzzing around you making you go back to the bed to make a full check-up while asking questions about your physical health.

Soon Hope came in as well with Tony, Reed and Sue who had made sure to be there as well. This time around the questions changed into a more deep, emotional speech to find your emotional state, with everyone being careful of mentioning Wanda or her children. When it became too much, and your anguish grew without everyone taking noticed of this, Christine and Pepper came right in hushing everyone out of your room with only America, Christine, Hope and Pepper staying behind.

You closed your eyes slowly, wincing when the shifting on the bed made you pressed your weight on your left side.

“Easy there, Y/N, it would take some time to get use to it but the pain won’t last that long.” Christine spoke soothingly, she offered a shaky smile at you while helping you get comfortable. “You were really lucky she was bad with guns, and her aim.”

You gave a crooked smile, “I was lucky indeed.”

Hope glanced at America then at you, the exchanged didn’t go amiss by you and soon your eyes were on your best friend.

“How is Wanda?” Finally, after almost two hours of avoiding the topic you brought the white elephant into the room.

Hope sighed stepping closer to you, “she is not okay, this really shake whatever progress we made in the past and has been affecting her greatly. She feels guilty, she feels as if she doesn’t deserve you.”

“She actually thinks you hate her.” America chimed in playing with her lower lip, “and I may have led her to believe she was right.”

You glared at your sister but said nothing, it was okay. It was only natural. The situation had been less than ideal, and everyone reacted differently to these situations, you couldn’t blame America more so than you could blame Wanda or yourself. Hope grabbed your right hand squeezing comfortingly.

“She will need a lot of support, Y/N, if you…” Hope took a deep breath, “if you are serious about her, about a relationship with her then I suggested you start working on convincing her that she deserves to be happy. And that you don’t hate her.”

You looked away finding Christine’s eyes on yours, the young woman smiled gently at you already knowing the answer. You nodded turning to America then to Hope.

“I am very serious, Hope. I wouldn’t have done what I did with just anyone.” You stated serious grabbing your best friend tightly, “I fell in love with Wanda because of who she is, I don’t know if she feels the same or if she even is ready for this but I won’t give up.”

“I know, Y/N. It will take time but…well, I cannot say she feels the same, I can say though that she really feels strongly about you.” Hope shrugged stepping back, “so, who knows?”

“Right.” You sighed turning to the door then back to Hope and Christine, “I need a favour.”

“What is it?” You offered a half smiled wiggling your brows and soon America knew you had planned something incredible reckless and crazy.

Christine and Pepper exchanged a glance pretty familiar with the mischievous glint of your stare ready to see where this favour of you lead them.

____________________________

You were ready to go out of your room, you were tired already of staying in bed more so if there was no need for you to stay overnight.

“You really should try to follow Christine’s advice,” America mumbled helping you inside your pants while shaking her head, you almost fall flat on your ass if America hadn’t hold onto you.

“Ugh, please I’m okay, just bruised and in pain but at least I can get dress, and besides I want to see Wanda and I wasn’t about to flash my but to everyone in this wing.” You glared at the hospital gown before turning to your sister.

America winced making a face at the mention of your butt.

“Yes, I agreed, we don’t need that anymore than we need to.”

You chuckled sitting down on the bed while watching as America went to grab your sneakers and put them on you. Just as she was finishing up the last of them the door to your room opened without any warning, you were about to scold at whoever had come in unannounced when you found yourself staring at Nick Fury and Peggy Carter.

Both agents came into your room, closing the door behind them. Peggy stepped closer her eyes checking you up before the fell on America. The older woman offered a warm smile stretching her hand to your sister.

“You must be Ms. Chavez, I’m Agent Peggy Carter.” America took her hand lifting a brow at her.

“A pleasure.”

“So, agent Carter, Agent Fury, what can I do for you?” You asked right away with your eyes going from Peggy to Fury.

“We came here to inquire about your injuries and your general state,” Peggy started taking a seat on the closest chair, “and then, if you were agreeable to the idea, we are also here to take your testimony.”

“As you can imagine, the case against Jarvis is going to take high priority since he broke into a private airport handle by National Security so, now only is he under some federal charges, he is also being investigate for terrorism and treason.”

You snorted shaking your head, not really understanding how all those charges came to be but happy to know the man would have it really difficult to go out of the trouble he got into. America stood right there glancing at you then at the agents, she bounced on her feet before nodding curtly to herself grabbing her phone and moving to the door.

“In that case, I’m out of here and directly to help Christine and the others with your…surprised.”

“Go on, Kiddo, I’ll be in Wanda’s room if you need anything.”

Peggy watched as America left before settling her eyes on you, Fury took a seat on the sofa and soon both agents had their attention on you.

“Well, where should I start?” You finally asked, Peggy put her phone on the table the recording app on.

“You can start from the beginning, when did you meet Wanda and how you became involve with her, and Jarvis.”

You raised a single eyebrow before nodding, for a moment you kept silent contemplating how much had happened in the last six months of your life. With a deep breath, you started telling them the first day you met Wanda, the different encounters, and the conversations you held with her. It was not relevant, but soon just to humour yourself you started talking about your changing feelings, how you started seeing the other woman and the shaky friendship that blossom one day when you first got to see the scars of the abuse in the boys.

The story then went directly to the confrontation you had with him the day before. His words inviting you over to see something he had been working on, then the surprised attack and you fighting back up until the moment they showed up and cooked up the plan that almost cost you your life and Wanda’s life as well. Peggy shifted uncomfortable, her eyes glancing fast to Nick then back at you.

“Now, I want to know what happen to him,” you asked glancing at both agents, “You promised me nothing bad would happen and I got shot and Wanda was almost killed by the man.”

The reproach was quite evident in your voice, Peggy glanced at Fury then back at you, she leaned forward placing her elbows on her knees making sure you could not look away from her.

“He was already on top of Wanda by the time Agatha shoot you,” Peggy shifted as she recounted what happened while you were unconscious on the ground, “we were supposed to arrest him right there and then, but we never expected him to get to Wanda and tried to strangle her before we could pull him away from her.”

“He knew he had been caught, so his last act before going to jail was to make sure he would kill his wife.” Fury continued shrugging, “he was just a fucking coward.”

Peggy glared at Fury but the man didn’t even flinch, you scowled shaking your head.

“What is a dead woman if he is the sole survivor and the only guardian to his children?” You snorted, shaking your head, “he knew you needed him alive if you were to keep building a case against the criminal organisation he had been stealing from.”

Peggy nodded curtly, not even bothering in denying your words. clenching your jaw, you sit up trying to get out of the bed, Fury stepped forward helping you out of the bed while holding you up.

“I will make sure that man doesn't see the light of another day, Agent Carter, he tried to kill me and my family.”

“I know.” She replied softening slightly, “I'm sorry you have to go through that, you and Wanda…”

“Whatever information he is offering you, I can double it. You have my resources at your full disposal as long as there is written guarantee he won't have the kids custody; his name will be erased from their records.”

Fury lifted a single eyebrow quite impressively while Peggy tried to hold back her expression into a neutral facade. You shrugged pointing a finger to the door.

“I don't know if the movies are real or not, but if the government can make it happen I want that man like the iron mask prisoner from Dumas’ book.”

This time around Peggy cracked a smile nodding curtly, “I shouldn't tell you this but, he wouldn't be our first iron mask prisoner.”

You opened your eyes before squinting them with a hint of suspicion there.

“I can't promise you he would be put away in such a secure place, but I can promise you the other part of your request. He won't have any claim on the children or his ex-wife or his freedom.”

“Good, now I think I'm going to see my girlfriend. If you excuse me, you gave me the perfect chance to run from this place.”

Fury and Peggy watched you leave the office, Peggy waited until she heard your footsteps far along the hall.

“So, tell me why we never recruit her?”

“Her father threatened to skin you and Steve alive if you ever tried it.”

“Right, like father, like daughter.”

_________________

The energy you had spent re-telling your story for the last six months was soon building up again. Your hand hover above the doorknob of Wanda’s room, with you standing right outside waiting for courage and the right words to find a way into your mouth.

You played the words of Hope inside your head, and you went over what America and everyone else had told you so far about Wanda’s real physical and emotional state. You needed to play this right so as to ensure Wanda would not run from you; you lifted your face ready to go in when a couple of questions creep into your mind, what if Wanda really didn’t want anything with you? What if things really change?

The white door was suddenly heavier, bigger and it stood before you as a silent guardian of what was at the other end. You remembered your sister's anger, the fragility of life as your left arm pulsated with the ghost of a bullet piercing your skin and muscle. 

Wanda.

Everything you did up to that point had been for her, right? Then, why were you hesitating?

With more courage that you felt, you grabbed the doorknob and pushed through.

The room had the light of the TV projecting colours of a children’s program on the wall, there was only a single lamp projecting a different light resting on the bedside table. You stepped into the room closing the door behind you and effectively calling the attention of the little lumps resting on the sofa. Billy and Tommy both turned to the door, their eyes growing wide while they expression changed from one of boredom and tiredness to one of happiness.

It caught you by surprised to see as the both of them came rushing to you meeting you halfway and wrapping their arms around you. You winced when Billy got to you first, he crushed into your left side while Tommy grabbed your right side.

“Hey guys,” you greeted them softly, wrapping your good arm around Tommy while later on ruffling Billy’s hair, “it’s good to know you guys are okay.”

“Mommy said…” Billy trailed off stepping away from you, frowning he then pointed to the sling, “she said dad hurt you.”

Tommy pressed his lips together looking down in shame, “we’re sorry.”

You opened your eyes kneeling while putting a hand on Tommy’s shoulder.

“There is nothing to be sorry about, Tommy.” You replied looking at the boy before turning your eyes to his brother, “never felt sorry for what other’s do, guys. He hurt me, but it was not your fault.”

Billy clenched his jaw close stepping closer to you, “he hurt mommy too, and Tommy.”

Tommy trembled feeling the tears in his eyes, you softened your features cupping his face while offering a smile to Tommy.

“I’m sorry he hurt you, Tommy, but he won’t be able to do so anymore, I promise.” Tommy then stepped towards you hugging you tightly hiding his face on your neck.

You wrapped your good arm around him drawing soothing circles on his back, you could see Billy hesitating though this time around he was looking at you with a glint of hope in his eyes.

“Are you…mad? Mommy said you saved her but…she was crying.” Billy furrowed his brows glancing at the bed where his mother was resting then back at you, “I don’t want mommy crying anymore.”

Your heart melted right away, these boys had been in constant fear yet always ready to defend and protect their mother. You shook your head nodding to Billy to come closer to you.

“I’m not mad, Billy. I was worried sick about you guys, and Wanda, I love you guys.” You said without a hint of hesitation, “and I’m sorry I was not there to make sure nothing bad happen to you, or Tommy or Wanda. But I promise you, this won’t happen again. And he…he won’t be able to hurt you again.”

“You promise?” Billy said lifting his right hand, putting his little finger out, “you pinkie swear it?”

You held back your smile, you let go of Tommy for a moment taking Billy’s finger with yours.

“I swear it, Billy.”

And you meant it.

You would do anything that was in your power to protect this family from any harm, they didn’t deserve to keep on suffering the way they had done in the past and if you could offer them something different you would do so.

Billy nodded curtly before he too came into your arms hugging your tightly, you closed your eyes for a moment enjoying the embrace these two kids were sharing with you. You smiled when they let go of you and put their fingers on their lips turning to the bed where Wanda was still sleeping.

It wasn’t until that moment that you noticed the state she was in.

If at any point you doubt your love for Wanda, and what the future held for the both of you it soon crumbled under the weight of your emotions and your beating heart. Your eyes softened at the sight of Wanda sleeping on a hospital bed, there was nothing relaxed on her expression and the way she seemed to be clenching her jaw and fist told you she was probably having a bad dream.

“Dad hurt mommy.” Billy mumbled looking up at you, “can you make her feel better?”

“I will try, kiddo, why don’t you and Tommy go back to the sofa, okay?” The twins glanced at one another then back at you and then at their mother before nodding and running back to the sofa.

You stood by Wanda’s bed taking in the bruises on her face and the bandages covering parts of her body. You were trembling by now, your hand lifting to touch at the bandages covering her neck. The man had tried to make s much damage as he could, and Wanda was now paying a price she shouldn’t be paying. You made a silent promise to the skies to never let anyone or anything hurt her the way Vision had done so.

With a softness that surprised you, you grabbed her hand in yours, drawing soft circles on the back of your hand while leaning in to place a single kiss on her forehead.

Wanda stirred with her eyes popping opened all of a sudden, you could see the flash of panic in those green orbs and the tension of her body pushing her to almost sit up and put herself in unnecessary risk.

“Hey, wait, it's me, Wands.” You tried to soothe her, this time around you placed a tentative hand on her shoulder, tilting your head. You tried to offer a shaky smile but Wanda just shook her head trying to get away from your touch leaving out exclamations of pain from her lips.

“Hey, Wands, wait…” You tried to calm her down, with the twins standing up coming to the bed while looking at you and then at Wanda.

“Y/N? Mommy?” Billy asked tentatively, hearing her son was enough to make Wanda returned her attention to them then back to you.

“Hey, love it’s okay.” You furrowed your brows, while Billy and Tommy were not understanding such a reaction for you was crystal clear what it meant.

The words from Hope came back, and now you understood what they really meant. The fear she was flashing on those green eyes were the silent symbol of the fear she was feeling of getting closer to you once more, of perhaps living the rejection coming from you and experimenting the hate she thought you had for her.

Wanda never lost the tension on her muscles, she tried to ignore you while turning to her children that were looking at her wide eyed.

“I’m okay.” She tried to speak but her voice came hoarse with dried undertones and broken words.

Billy frowned grabbing Tommy by the hand then turning to you and Wanda.

“Y/N is here, mommy. You can sleep again; she pinkie promise dad won’t hurt you. Ever again.”

While Billy offered a tentative smile to his mom you could see the widening of her eyes, and the tension coming back to her. You grabbed her hand, trying to be as careful as you could while making sure she returned her attention to you. Wanda pressed into the bed keeping her face hidden from you while keeping her hand limp.

“Wanda, look at me, please.” You spoke clearly, without demanding but asking as a favour.

After what seemed like an eternity the young woman turned to you and the tears were filling up her eyes.

“You want some water?” You asked lifting your good hand to brush some locks of hair away from her face, “I notice your voice was hoarse and…well, I know why but perhaps cold water can help some with the swelling.”

Wanda felt her lower lip shivered, she was trembling waiting for you to start screaming at her, for the words of finality to leave your mouth. But you never changed your posture, or the softness behind your expression, or even the tender caresses from your hand. You locked your eyes to hers lifting an eyebrow at her.

“Well? You want water or, I can also offer you some Vodka, but that will cost you a kiss at least.”

You chuckled when Tommy and Billy made gaging sounds before erupting in giggles and going back to the sofa. Wanda frowned opening her mouth ready to speak, but with her breath caught in her throat when you placed a single finger on her lips.

“Don’t, Princess, try to not put any unnecessary stress on your voice. Let me bring you the water, and then…” you trailed off leaning, “then we will talk.”

Wanda trembled nodding slightly, you winked at her and then asked the boys if they wanted something to drink asking them to come with you while leaving the room for a moment.

Wanda was soon left alone with her thoughts, she thought the first time she would see you again after the whole ordeal she would be far away, perhaps ready and strong to face your hatred and the finality of whatever relationship you two had built in the last couple of weeks. She had been waiting for you to hate her, to perhaps blame her for what had happened the way America had done so hours ago.

She never expected you to behave the way you were doing, or for you to offer her the smile she loved so much. Or for you to just be you. She held back her tears, her heart beating heart against her chest while she tried to quiet down any whispers of hope that had been trying to grow inside her head and heart, she couldn’t allow herself to hope only for you to perhaps coming back with a breakup and hurtful words against her. Her heart wouldn’t take it.

Ten minutes later you came back alone, your lips curled into a sheepish smile while lifting a glass of water with a straw.

“America and her friends were down in the cafeteria, and Balder was there and the twins wanted to talk to him, I hope you don’t mind.” You stepped closer to Wanda helping her up before offering the straw. “Here, drink some water.”

The woman hesitated before drinking form the straw, her face broke into a mask of pure relief while wincing lightly feeling her throat pulsated with the water flowing inside her. She then opened her eyes, looking directly into yours.

“Thank you.” Wanda whispered looking away for a moment, getting ready with the huge speech she had prepared in your absence, her mouth opened but whatever she had prepared came crushing down and the only thing she could say was a shaky, “I’m sorry.”

“Wanda…” You started but the other woman put a hand on yours gripping your tightly, her green eyes big and desperate.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…I…It wasn’t my intention, I’m sorry, please don’t hate me…”

You could hear and see the effort she was making into talking, her voice was trembling just above a hoarse whisper. You waited until it was impossible for her to continue and then, you leaned in to kiss her forehead tenderly.

“There is nothing to be sorry about, Love.” You whispered for her only, breaking into a tender smile while letting her see the love you felt for her.

She shook her head, tears rolling down her cheeks her lips trembling. You brushed your hand against her cheek, wiping away the tears while brushing her hair.

“I have never had so much fear in my life that the fear I felt knowing I couldn’t stop him on time and you and the twins and my sister were in danger.” You said softly, furrowing your brows while looking at Wanda.

“I was so afraid that something was to happen to you and them, when I finally got him to leave the kids and America behind my next concern was to make sure you were okay.” This time around you let your fingertips trace a line to the bandages around her neck.

“I’m sorry he hurt you, Wands.”

“Why?” She finally asked, and that single question held everything she wanted to tell you.

Why were you still there with her? Why did you keep coming for her? Why?

You opened your eyes blinking away a couple of times, “I thought it was obvious.”

Wanda furrowed her brows shaking her head, you softened leaning in making sure she was looking deeply into your eyes.

“Because I’m in love with you, Wanda, and from the moment I met you I realized I want nothing more than to make you and the boys happy.” You shrugged offering a tender smile, “I thought it was that obvious, but let me correct that, from now on I will show you every day how much I love you, and I will tell you so, to make sure you know without a glimpse of a doubt.”

Wanda felt her lip quivered, she wanted to say so many things. She wanted to ask for your forgiveness because if she had told you the full story of Vision nothing would have happened. She wanted to tell you that she would understand if you wanted to end whatever it was the both of you have, she had put you and your sister in danger and she would understand. She would understand if you hated her, if you wanted to leave.

And then, you came over to crash all of these thoughts by confessing the most wonderful thing to her. She felt her heart stopped for a moment, and soon she opened her mouth wanting to tell you the same, that she had been in love with you from quite some time. She locked her eyes with yours, her mouth opened ready to say those words…

I love you.

She gripped your hand tightly, and your heart broke at the fragility you found there. Your own tears welling up your eyes, offering a comforting smile when you hold her hand.

“I know.” You said to her silent confession.

She lowered her gaze, gasping when you brushed your lips against hers.

“Wanda, I know life has not been easy or kind to you, but I want you to know that I will be here for you, for Billy and for Tommy.” You all but whispered to her, “whenever you are ready, I still be here, and I won’t leave unless you tell me to. So, you better be ready because, If you want to, I’ll be by your side until we are old and living in an Italian coast watching our grandchildren grow.”

Wanda offered a shaky smile clenching her eyes closed thinking she really didn't deserve you. Or happiness. When she opened her eyes again, you were still there smiling softly at her, and Wanda had to ask herself if she was ready to be with you in such a way. To finally step forward and give herself to you. You whispered sweet, comforting words to her, trying to ease out the sobs leaving Wanda’s lips until the young woman finally fell into an easy sleep.

-------------------------------------------

Wanda was not sure when she fell asleep, her body stirred painfully under the weight of recovery and sleepiness. She could hear the muffled conversation happening in her room, and the excited chatter coming from her children but her eyes refused to open, only giving her the comfort of the sounds of conversation. 

She let the voices soothe her worries, her heart shrank deeply hearing the snickered from her son's and the conviction behind your voice. She loved the tenderness in which America chided them but also the way she conspired with the twins. Wanda didn't know when she let the smile showed on her face, but the moment she opened her eyes your hand was comfortingly wrapped around hers.

“Hey, sleepy head, are you ready?” Your question caught Wanda by surprise, she furrowed her brows opening her mouth only to close it again.

You chuckled turning to the bedside table lifting the glass of water with straw that was left there by a nurse. You offered the straw to Wanda and, after some hesitation, she drank some of it trying to clear her throat while locking her eyes with yours.

“Ready for what?” She finally said in a raspy, guttural voice wincing at the effort.

“For New Year’s celebration, of course!” 

It wasn't until then that the young woman noticed the change in your clothing. You were wearing a loose shirt, your left arm still wrapped around the sling, your legs covered by a nice black jean and some Vans. Your hair out up in a ponytail, freshly washed and ready for an afternoon stroll apparently. She turned to see the twins were both wearing black and khaki jeans with matching jackets and light blue shirts. America wore a beautiful dress and everyone was just ready to go out, Wanda tried to sit up with her eyes slightly open glancing around her room with her heart beating fast and a tingling down her abdomen.

“I brought you a dress that Billy and Tommy select, and a nice coat because, baby is cold outside.”

You chuckled winking at America who rolled her eyes making gagging sounds while Wanda returned your smile blushing lightly. 

“I would offer to help you get dressed, but you know…” you pointed to your arm sheepishly, “Nat is coming over and we will wait upstairs, don't take too long, Wands.”

Wanda opened her mouth to say something, but soon enough her words tangled on her throat when you leaned in, placing a kiss on her forehead.

“Just go with the flow, love.” You winked walking backwards before hurrying everyone out of the room.

The room soon felt empty, with just a tad of cold breeze making Wanda shivered. She sat on the bed for a moment until the door of her room opened and there was Natasha with a huge smile.

“I hope you're ready because Y/N really outdo herself this time around.”

Wanda was not sure what to say, the tears were back and her heart was just trembling under the raw affection trying to overwhelm her. Soon her eyes fell upon the dress, Wanda narrowed her eyes trying to calm herself down while letting the older woman assist her still confused as to what exactly was happening and not obtaining any direct answers from the redhead.

“Nu-uh, you will have to wait, Wanda, and you won't regret it.”

Half an hour later Wanda and Natasha were making their way to the elevator of the Hospital, not many people were left in the halls. Midnight was almost there, and many were either in their rooms, on their homes, or on the rooftop. You waited patiently by the elevator, your eyes growing big when you took in the appearance of Wanda who was holding Natasha tightly.

“You look beautiful,” you stepped closer offering your arm to her, Wanda hesitated before taking yours her cheeks burning brightly while her eyes lowering shyly.

“You look good, too.” She replied softly, you chuckled winking at Wanda.

“I want you to have the best New Year’s celebration ever, we were supposed to go to Stepehen and Christine’s party but…since we can, I brought the party to you.”

You explained while standing in front you Wanda, the young woman furrowed her brows turning to the open door of the elevator then back at you. For Wanda you were a box filled with surprises, one after the other, you had always shocked her in ways she never thought possible. She gulped wincing when her spit went down her sore throat, closing her eyes she then lifted her hand to cup the side of your face stepping closer to you.

“I wish I could show you the same, our date was cut short last time,” she shook her head stopping any reply from you, you clamped your mouth shut letting her finish, “I’m sorry about everything, I still think I don’t deserve you…but I will make sure to be worthy of your love, of your company.”

Your heart leaped forward, and your eyes fluttered close when Wanda leaned in kissing you tentatively on the lips. It took you a moment, and soon the both of you were sharing the softest kiss you had ever experienced in your life. By the time the both of you parted, you two were equally flustered, smiling at the other with the same affection growing in your eyes.

“Well, then let’s go.” You said holding onto Wanda and leading her to the elevator where a very amused Natasha had waited all along.

When the doors of the elevator opened in front of you, you smiled hearing the gasp coming from Wanda. The young woman stepped forward glancing around the place while admiring the decorations and the people filling out the place. The night was completely dark, with a cold breeze traveling around the celebrations goers that were wearing heavy coats and drinking warm beverages.

The place had been decorated with lights and torches, tables were set up and many patients with their families and friends were sharing light conversation and food, doctors, nurses and staff members had also been invited and all of them had also chosen different tables to enjoy the music and the tension just before the clock hit midnight.

Wanda turned to you, and you could only smile at her shrugging.

“I thought we need to start the new year with a huge celebration, not on a hospital bed.” You said simply earning yourself a tight hug before she grabbed your hand dragging you down the different tables to the furthest part of the rooftop.

The lights of the city twinkling down the streets, and the music was sometimes interrupted by the host of the radio station someone had put on. Wanda approached the group and soon she found many familiar faces she had met before, she stopped dead on her tracks with you wrapping your arms around her midsection while putting your lips on her ear.

“I told you I call everyone.” You whispered making her shivered under the caress of your voice.

Wanda soon spotted her children talking with Balder and Morgan, while America was standing with her friends laughing and drinking alcohol free cocktails. At the other end was Hope with Reed and Sue, and nearby was Tony, Thor, Sif, Pepper, Stephen and Christine all sharing a good meal. There were to spots free right beside Christine, facing Eleanor Bishop that was trying very hard to not glare at you.

“Thank you.” She whispered at you, you winked at her pointing to the table.

“Let’s go to eat.”

“Here they are!” Tony stood up calling everyone’s attention, he lifted a hand then pointing at you and Wanda just as you two took your seats, “please everyone, let’s give it up for these two women that had shown us that the power of love can do everything and anything!”

You rolled your eyes with your lips drawing a smile, while Wanda dipped her face trying to covered the blush on her cheeks. Soon conversation resumed, and Wand found herself the subject of Christine’s fuzzing.

“Now, I know this may be difficult at first, but nothing spicy, or acid or anything like that, I chose your food for today, and only cold drinks. Well, lukewarm so as to not to hurt yourself.”

You chuckled grabbing your fork with your good hand watching as Wanda gaped at Christine who was like a mother hen trying to tell the young woman what was good for her sore throat. The table was buzzing with light conversation, the food was soon finished and the dessert along with the flutes of champagne were brought over. All around the rooftop people were getting ready to receive the new year, people glancing at their watches while others were just calling their loved ones.

“Are you guys ready?” America came from behind the both of you, you turned around seeing as America rested her stare on Wanda.

Wanda shifted nervously nodding while offering a tentative smile to the young woman. For a moment you waited, you knew America had been mad, she had told you as much as well as the heavy discussion she had with the redhead. But after you spoke with your sister, you thought whatever disagreement she had with Wanda had been cleared out.

“Wanda, I just…” America started, you could see as Wanda tensed clenching her fist while leaning back with her eyes lowering to the ground, “I’m sorry for all the things I said to you. It was not your fault, I just… Y/N is my family, and I almost lost her, I…”

Wanda shook her head placing a hand on top of America’s, her eyes going wide opened gleaming in disbelief.

“No, I’m sorry.” Wanda replied hoarsely, she put a hand on her throat standing up. “I’m sorry, I put you and Y/N in danger, I…”

America did something you never thought possible, she stepped closer wrapping her arms around the woman holding her tightly.

“Stop talking, you fool, you’re going to hurt yourself even more.” She said tenderly, “don’t apologise, I’m sorry for the way I treat you, it was not fair.”

America looked out of the corner of her eyes to see your smile there, she returned the smile before stepping back grabbing Wanda’s hand in hers before grabbing yours and joining them with hers wrapping around your joined hands with Wanda.

“I know there is no one better to be with my sister than you, just don’t hurt her.”

“I won’t.” Wanda whispered looking at you, you stood up intertwining your fingers with hers.

“I won’t either.”

“Good, now get ready is about to be midnight.”

Wanda turned to you, everyone was getting ready around you. You could see the hesitation in her eyes, with a nod of your head you locked your eyes with hers offering a comforting smile.

“It is going to be okay.”

“I don’t deserve her forgiveness.” Wanda replied, she closed her eyes allowing the comforting squeeze from your hand to warm up her heart.

“Whatever happens, Wands, I want to be right there with you. I want to live with you, to grow old with you…to love you, if you let me.” You said softly, “you deserve forgiveness, and you deserve happiness, Love.”

“I'm scared.” Wanda confessed while unable to tell you the reason behind her fear.

She didn't need to tell you, though. You knew, you could imagine the guilt and the fear she held inside her mind for everything that happened, for the things that came in between. You placed a soft kiss on her hair, putting her closer to you.

“Me too.” You replied, chuckling lightly, “but I prefer to be scared and have you by my side than miss the chance to be with you.”

“You're so sappy.” she leaned back offering a teasing smile you returned with a wink.

“Only for you, Princess.” 

Wanda relaxed in your embrace, everyone started standing up checking their watches and grabbing the flutes of champagne.

“Okay everyone, it's about time!”

The music stopped and soon it was replaced for the local radio station in which the announcers were ready as everyone else to start the countdown to the new year.

The rooftop vibrated with excitement, families and friends came together, everyone talking and exchanging their new year's resolutions.

Wanda stepped back welcoming her children in her arms, and America stood right beside you with Kate hugging her from behind. Your eyes soon found those of Wanda and the man in the radio start counting.

“10, 9, 8…”

You chuckled when the twins jumped excitedly, Billy dragging his mom closer to you while also grabbing his brother.

Kate watched the scene with a softening stare kissing America on her cheek.

“You guys look like a happy family.”

“...3, 2, 1 Happy New Year America!!”

The fireworks broke into the sky, everyone gasped and celebrated while Wanda leaned in tilting her head and kissing you openly in front of everyone. Wanda never imagined her year would end in such a way, when she ran away from Vision’s grasp she did so with one thing in mind: To survive.

Now, standing on the rooftop of a hospital with a woman kissing her slowly, tentatively, she realized that love was possible, that being loved was something she also deserved, and that loving someone might not be as bad as she was led to believe. Just as you stepped back with a huge grin adorning your face, Wanda knew.

You two would be forever.

_______________________________________

Next Chapter: Wanda and Reader need to have that date, only family fluff and a bright future ahead of them. With some decisions to be taken, and Wanda finally giving in.

[piesafterdark]

Predictions for Arcane as a franchise + my thoughts! Season 2, Act 3 spoilers ahead.

jayce, viktor, and jinx can't be dead. Let me tell you why.

no. 1, Arcane's been pretty explicit with deaths. Silco, Vi and Cait's moms, Benzo, the sergeant from season 1 act 1 etc etc we've all seen dead bodies, time pass without them coming back, or character arcs shifting to accommodate deaths (lsha's and Silco's death shaping Jinx). In season 2, Maddie's, Ambessa's, and random extra's deaths were all shown on screen. Therefore, if we don't see a body, the body's still moving.

no. 2, while this is Arcane's last season, there's going to be more Runeterra shows. Of course we don't know what's going to happen over there, but I don't think Riot and Fortische are just going to throw Arcane's characters away unless they do. "the arcane is waking up" and all that jazz. Seems to me like the arcane isn't back to sleep, and who has experience with the arcane. Oh, right, all these cool guys. Leading to points 3 and 4.

no. 3, Jayce's crystal, given to him by the mage (Viktor) in season 1, was used for teleportation, if I remember correctly. Rather than dying/getting sucked into the crystal, they've been teleported somewhere else and will be used to shift the focus onto that location. This fits. Moving to a completely different location would disrupt the glorious evolution. Plus we didn't see their bodies so.

EDIT: apparently it was the rune of insight or smth. my bad. Still, theres a chance? Please Riot, pleaaseee

from arcanegifs

no. 4, Jinx my beloved. There was a line of shimmer leaving the explosion at the bottom of the pit, and the epilogue of Cait looking at the pit and seeing air ducts hints that Jinx/Powder escaped. I'm pretty sure the Zepplin shown at the end was to imply she left Piltover and Zaun, finally becoming her own person. Throughout the show, her identity was determined by her relationships (hair mirroring Silco's, smoke tattoos for Vi, mental illness from causing her brothers' deaths), and with hallucination Silco suggesting the best way to change the Cycle of Killing is leaving, that's what she chose to do. Additionally, her handwriting for the "the end" at the finale suggests that she was there to write it. She's alive guys trust me. Her change of scenery can be used to shift the focus to a different location.

My personal Thoughts:

on no. 4, I would hate it if they decided to kill Jinx after she found herself. It's overused. Seeing Jinx/Powder finally become herself without Silco's, Zaun's, and her sister's baggage in a new place would be super interesting. As someone who doesn't play League, I've heard there's some blond character she's shipped with from a different country/city? Foreshadowing perhaps? Plus it'd be so in character for her to start a new series with a chaotic "I bet you're wondering what I did after I faked my death."

Cait and Vi will probably remain in Piltover/Zaun doing reform (the show's whole point). The reason why Vi didn't look super duper sad is probably because she's going through shock or because Cait reassured her that Jinx/Powder isn't dead (air ducts). Ekko's probably going to do reform w/ the power couple because that's his motivation.

The sex scene's context is a bit odd, but Jinx literally gave Vi permission to be with Cait so... ? When life gives you lemons, give your gf head i guess. Wish Cait did apology head though, she really hurt Vi... But then again, Vi probably wanted to get lost in the sauce and forget about everything around her, hence the "I don't fucking care" comment.

Jayce was right, Viktor was blinded. Love that they're in love.

It's so interesting to see Sevika going from backing revolutionaries (Silco and Vander) to becoming a revolutionary herself and actually getting a seat on the council!! She went from kingmaker to king.

Thought season 2 was kinda rushed? Idk wished we had hour long episodes just to flesh things out.... still a great season.

It's not over. With the success this show's been giving Netflix, there's at least twenty more on the horizon. God bless Riot and Fortische.

going to go cry now.

[bwat5-blog]

Spoiler Warning for Arcane in its entirety*

An honest look at Silco

Let me start by saying Silco is a great character. The revolutionary who fell prey to “The End Justifies The Means” is a trope that rarely feels fresh or interesting these days, but Silco does. You never doubt his love for his home or for the ideal of what it could be. And like many of the characters, he starts off in the right. The oppression and abuse of the under-city is deplorable on every level. His best friend tries to kill him due to everything they go through and he is left alone, maimed and friendless. However, unlike Jinx or Caitlyn, Silco never finds his way back from the darkness he falls into and its evident in everything he does.

1. Intimidates a young street kid into being mutated by Shimmer

2. Finances the creation of Shimmer in general, experimenting on animals and people (HIS OWN PEOPLE) and flooding the under-city with it creating mutated addicts among other things

3. Uses the shimmer mutant he forced the boy to become to murder the sheriff of piltover ,who had actually tried to keep the enforcers out of the under-city so he can install his own corrupt puppet sheriff Marcus

4. Despite the fact that he promised to make a better Zaun for Felicia’s children, and that he would know who Vi and Powder are, he is completely prepared to murder them both.

5. Various gangster shit. Killing those he wishes, threatening children, all the classics

But of course, Silco’s most important role in this tale is his relationship with Powder/Jinx. The violence between Vander and Silco is tragic. We even see sadness and regret in Silco over what he believes to be Vander’s death. But it is undeniable that through the events he instigates by taking Vander he ends up becoming a “Father” to powder, and the end result is the birth of Jinx.

Silco made Jinx:

1. When Silco finds Powder, she is afraid, overcome with guilt, angry, heartbroken and hurt. Rather than take her and help her through any sort of healthy grieving, Silco weaponizes her. He speaks of revenge, “We’ll show them all”.

2. I don’t doubt Silco loves Jinx as his daughter. The issue is that Silco’s idea and concept of Love are broken. Powder needed help and support overcoming her grief and doubt regarding her role in her families deaths. Instead, she was taught to kill, to consider anyone not “us” as the enemy. “Everyone betrays us Jinx”.

3. We need only look at Jinx’s mental state after years of living with Silco to see how his raising her has changed her. She is not doing well. She is manic, aggressive, hallucinating voices and visions of her dead family, and is still overcome with guilt and self hatred.

4. Upon finding out Vi is alive, Silco immediately moves to have her killed and discredit her to Jinx. Even knowing the “daughter” he loves is buried under so much guilt and loss, he makes every attempt to deny her that catharsis.

5. During Jinx’s dinner party, Silco makes every effort to convince Jinx to murder her own sister, and to turn away from who she truly is.

Jinx tells us (the audience) in season 2 that things are much quieter in her head with Silco gone. In fact we only see him (apparition) twice. When Isha is taken, and when Isha is killed. Now of course Jinx misses him. We see this how she speaks to his chair, smells his coat, and longs for the idea of how things might have been different if Silco had found Vanders letter. But overall without him she is undeniably more at peace.

In the end, i think its fair to say that Silco created Jinx. Yes jinx tells Vi it was her, but at that moment is the same Jinx who tries to make Vi choose to have Caitlyn killed, even knowing Vi’s feelings for the enforcer. And all born out of uncontrollable jealousy and paranoia. It’s important to remember, Jinx is what was left after Powder was, in a way, destroyed. And I’m not trying to get deep on alternate personalities or anything, just keeping it basic:

1. “Powder fell down a well”- She doesn’t consider herself that person

2. “You got the name right”- She once again confirms she IS Jinx

3. Her big moment of acceptance at the end of the show, arriving at the head of the undercity forces and saving the day, is as Jinx. And thats not a bad thing. She is a changed person and the whole point is her forgiving herself, breaking the cycle, and moving forward

So with all of that considered, i say to all you “Silco was such a good daddy” folks, I disagree. He loved her the best way he knew how. He scooped that terrified little girl named Powder into his arms, and warped her until only Jinx remained.

**side note I am NOT judging anyone who loves Silco. I think he is fascinating. Just my observations. Once again to anyone bored enough to read my blathering I appreciate you*

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

From the Ashes Pt.45

Pairing(s): Pairing(s): Rhaegar Targaryen x Lannister!Reader, one-sided!Jaime Lannister x Lannister!Reader, Jaime Lannister x Cersei Lannister

Warnings: slow burn fic, changing povs, MC POV, Rhaegar POV, Alizah POV

Words: 3136

Part 1 Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10  Part 11  Part 12   Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17  Part 18  Part 19  Part 20 Part 21 

Part 22 Part 23  Part 24  Part 25  Part 26 Part 27  Part 28  Part 29  Part 30  Part 31  Part 32  Part 33  Part 34  Part 35  Part 36  Part 37  Part 38  Part 39  Part 40 Part 41 Part 42 Part 43 Part 44 Part 46 Part 47 Part 48 Part 49 Part 50  Part 51 Part 52 Part 53 Part 54

Agitated, Weles bounced against the walls as he was unable to stand still, even for a moment. They were in the mouth of their enemy, separated through the Manor of Shades from one another. Nuahlin had drilled in him the instinct to stick together with your comrades. (y/n) didn’t even have Latilth by her side if the situation worsened.

He had promised Jaime Lannister that he would keep her safe, not that he needed a flimsy thing as a promise. Weles wholeheartedly devoted himself to (y/n) and had seen enough to know that she possessed Azor Ahai's soul. Even if (y/n) was tentative about admitting. Would Weles have to admit to Jaime that he could not keep his sister safe?

No, he had to have faith that if danger did befall upon her, (y/n) could take care of herself. She proved it with her fight with both darkin. There was no help for her then, nor with Batur. Even he couldn’t defeat Inniros when put up with the task. (y/n) had stopped him dead, pinning Lightbringer to his shadow so he could not escape.

Never having been claustrophobic before, Weles eyes the foreboding walls that contained him like a caged animal. While the doors may not have looked like the ones a regular prison would have, he figured this room to be much the same.

“I can hear your incessant pacing all the way from my room.” Melisandre’s voice is muffled by the door. Whipping his door open, Weles finds the red priestess completely alone. Her finely sculpted eyebrows are raised in amusement by Weles’ disheveled appearance. “You do know we don’t have to stay in our rooms.”

It would mean little if they attempted to escape. Shadows were agents of the darkin, even if Melisandre bragged to be one of few who was a shadowbinder, much different than the darkin. Their skill was almost at a toddler’s level of shadowdancing. Shadowbinders could not even fathom the inert power of the darkin to truly become one with the shadows itself. Every step of their’s was being watched , the resident darkin waiting for a slip up so they can label the outsiders as villains.

“No thanks.” Weles sneered, a vile taste left in his mouth after (y/n)’s experience with Batur, the shadowmaster.

“The darkin may not like it, but we are guests in their home and will be treated as such.” Melisandre calmly explains; scarlet eyes watch irritation flicker in Weles.

“Then why have they set us up in a tower like prisoners?”

She places a hand on the door frame, a ruby ring looking nearly black as there was no light to make its brilliance shine. “Not that I agree with them, but can you blame them? If the temple had its way, they would be no better than slaves to us. We are strangers threatening their home with this little girl that looks nothing like a prophet. They have reason to be cautious.”

He could blame them, for his resentment toward not just the darkin but Asshai as a whole grew more with each passing minute. And Melisandre was born here, she was of Asshai’i blood. “Do you trust them with (y/n)?”

“Of course not.” Long lashes send a darkness over her pale cheeks. “But I’m not worried. And you shouldn’t be either. Not if you truly believe in (y/n)’s strength. You taught her. She is as much a student of your’s as any Fiery Hand.”

And, of course, a dragon. Latilth had not liked the sight of her mistress being taunted by Batu7r. Wales would have applauded her had he not been busy trying to call the dragon back. She had been intent on helping (y/n). Even if it jmeant killing Batur which Rhiannon had feared. Her dragonfire could have easily consumed him. He had no shadows to hide in when the light of dragonfire lit up the dark hall.

“Batur will not do anything to us. Not when Inniros is on our side.” That made him scoff. Inniros. His weapons thirst for the darkin’s blood, the blood of the monster who had slaughtered his brothers without any type of punishment. Jaime had been close to being taken by Inniros had it not been for (y/n). “Is he really on our side?”

“You’re such a bummer, Weles.” Rhiannon stands in the doorway, arms crossed and her gold eyes narrowed. The young priestess, as lovely looking as she was, often had a sassy mouth on her that made conversations with her slightly difficult. Weles had much preferred the sweetness of her older sister Thalina. “Has he not shown us in every way that he is on our side? You may not have spoken with him as much as I have, but he’s devoted to nuh kosh. And (y/n) trusts him. That should be enough.”

Melisandre makes a face like Rhiannon did have a valid point. “She may be young, but (y/n) has a great intuition of who is worthy of her trust.” After her childhood, of course, (y/n) would be reluctant to trust anyone immediately.

Stepping next to Melisandre, Rhiannon holds her head up, challenging the chief of the Fiery Hand. “He is trustworthy and repentant of his sins. All so that he may serve (y/n). He didn’t have to show us the way to the Shadow Hills. Inniros could have turned on us when the female darkin made herself present.”

Snorting in indignation, Weles matched her cross armed stance.

Find no use in arguing, Melisandre sighed and positioned herself between the two. “Settle down. If Ray hears you guys squabbling, he’ll have us all in an hour of prayer.” Welles had sat through enough of Rays’ drawn-out sermons.

Rhiannon let her arms fall to her sides, obeying the senior red priestess. Her shield of confidence lowered, too. Behind her rough exterior, worry bled through. Until recently, Rhiannon had been attached to (y/n)’s side. An immediate connection had developed between the young ladies, each longing for the guiding hand of Thalina. Being away from her must have been strange, unable to look out for her adopted sister.

“What do we do now?” Her voice lowered to a soft timber.

“We try not to cause trouble and give (y/n) our support. That is why we are here.” Melisandre clasped her hands together. “R’hllor will carry us through this. As he always has.”

At least Weles and Rhiannon had one thing in common: doubt.

Sleep had alluded you that night. All you could do was grip at your thin sheets while tossing and turning. You should have been beyond exhausted, but your heart raced and skin tingled. The Shadow Hills energized you, making your legs swing off the cot and onto a stable, albeit cold, flooring.

It could be dangerous, roaming through the shadow estate at night, but you wanted to see Latilth. You were missing her warm body pressed against your sleeping frame.

You hesitated at your door, grabbing Lightbringer as an afterthought before slipping out into the pitch-black dark. Metal concerts on the wall offer meager lighting for your venture. You realize what a foolish idea it was to wander around at night in unfamiliar lands. Getting lost was a high probability that dawned on you too late.

The feeling of being watched clawed at your back, making you shiver as you prayed that you were walking in the right direction. Loviisa showed you the way earlier if you wanted to visit Latilth. Someone could misconstrue your wandering as suspicious. Thankfully, you found the staircase leading to the entrance hall's giant doors. You doubted anyone had actually used it in decades, preferring to take the secret tunnel through the mountain. How would you even open such a beast of a door?

Your hands wrap around the handle and you tentatively pull. The groaning of the hinges startles you, making your hands instinctively release at the loud sound.

A pale hand replaces your’s on the door handle and you turn to meet Inniros. He’s chuckling at your wide eyes. “Don’t let it scare you.”

Finally you smile in pure relief. A friendly face. “It’s so quiet here. Do you think anyone else heard it?”

“Oh most definitely.” Ignoring another groan of protest from the door, Inniros steps aside to let you through. “They probably knew you were roaming around the moment you stepped foot outside of your room.”

“I figured as much.”

You found Latilth immediately in the courtyard. Curled up next to a rudimentary sleeping bag. Her head turns, and when her bright, orange eyes spot you, Laitilth leaps up, shaking herself off of any dirt and nearly toppling you to the ground in her excitement. Warm scales soothed your soul as you wrapped your arms around her neck.

“I missed you too.” You smile and turn your face away to avoid one of her sharp horns. “Thank you for staying out here with her. You really didn’t have to.”

“I couldn't just let her be by herself.” Inniros pats the dragon on her back fondly. A rumbling purr vibrates in the back of Latilth’s throat. All she had ever known was you, Inniros, and Rhiannon. She wasn’t interested in the others in your group; they hadn’t been central to her rearing. Rhiannon had encouraged her to fly while Inniros prompted her to use her dragonfire to roast her fish and meat. And of course, you loved her more than anything.

Out in the courtyard, you still felt like you were being watched. Whether by whatever creatures lived in the mountains around you or by someone watching from a window inside the Manor of Shades.

You noticed where Latilth had been sleeping the earth had been scorched in a perfect circle. She needed some kind of warmth during the cold Asshai’i night.

Loviisa said there’s somewhere she wants to take me tomorrow. Apparently it will help me connect to Azor Ahai’s spirit. Any clue where she could be taking me?”

He pondered for a moment, long ivory fingers cascading over her cream scales that contained the softest flecks of blue, green, yellow, and pink. Even in the dark night, those colors shimmered as Latilth moved. “This land has many secrets. Some, even the darkin, have yet to unveil, even after centuries of living here. The River of Ash, Mountains of the Morn, Stygai, and even the Vale of Shadows hold terrifying magic to them. I have a strong feeling she might take you to the fallen city of Stygai.”

The way his voice actually trembled made you extremely apprehensive. “You. . . You sound scared. . .”

“Out of all of Asshai, that is the one place even the darkin stay clear of. It is a place to be feared.” He admits without any shame. “Batur and another master took us there. We only went to the outskirts, but we saw in the middle of the decayed city a circle of black obelisks as tall as any tree I have ever seen. Those alone still stood in near-perfect condition. There’s something in the air around those pillars. An energy, that’s what Master Nazneen had said.”

If this place made even Inniros shiver, it was indeed a cursed place. For what was there for shadowdancers to fear? You had always thought they were above fear.

“But. . .” A ghost of a smile flickers on his face. “If anyone can survive Stygai, I believe it would be you.”

You blush at his odd compliment. “I hope you’re right.” Traveling through Essos with Jaime had been a great adventure, and they had bonded more than ever. Glittering in all sorts of possibilities. Asshai. . . Asshai was a dark land, sinister even. A place where one never lets one's guard down. Hostility everywhere, you hoped to have the same amount of faith in yourself that Inniros did for you.

Robert nearly laughed in Prince Rhaegar’s face. “That creepy girl said she can give you a fleet?! How rich is their bloody god?”

“Enough that the temple’s fleet can take Blackwater Bay; from there, we take the Iron Throne.” Rhaegar knew he sounded overly ambitious. He was excited at the prospect of seeing his wife. If what Lady Alizah said was true. She was still a stranger, after all. The way she had made the flames in the fireplace leap, though, was quite impressive.

Arthur sat in a plush armchair, his face remained chalky due to his injury still paining him greatly. A blanket lay across his lap. Big enough to cover his missing leg.

When Arthur had woken up, the first words out of his mouth was a promise to Rhaegar: That he would be fighting alongside his prince again in no time.There was no doubt of Arthur getting back in the fighting spirit soon. The only question was how he would do it with one functioning leg. Fighting required two healthy arms and two strong legs .

“The things she’s told you about (y/n). . . She knew about the scars on her back.” Arthur murmurs.

“From the lions. i don’t think many know about them.” Darkly recalling the story (y/n) had told him. They added to her strength though, at least that’s what he thought. Deep scars that ran jagged from her shoulder blade to the dip of her spine. She must have been so terrified when it happened and in excruciating pain. Too much for a little girl to experience.

For once, the outside was quiet, with no onslaught of rain or shaking of trees or the wind. Everything was calm, soothing everyone’s previously fried nerves. Even a small amount of sun was in the early morning before the clouds hid it.

Frown seeming permanent under his thick black beard, Robert continues to glower. “Doesn’t this all seem too good to be true though?”

Well, Alizah had made terms and conditions. Building a temple in King’s Landing when all was said and done would be expensive and controversial. Another faith interloping in Westerosi society would be frowned upon. The people were already set in their faiths. The Iron Isles had their drowned god, northern folk with their old gods, and weirwood trees accompanied by the

Faith of the Seven didn’t leave much room for anyone else. Back lash like that in the beginning of his reign would be ill-advised.

Rhaegar sighed. “Believe me, I know how crazy it all sounds. Maybe I’m the real Mad King.”

“Don’t you dare say that.” Lord Baratheon sounded insulted on behalf of Rhaegar even tghough it was the prince who said it. “Aerys would have used his me like fodder in that wildfire. You had us retreat to save what lives you could.”

Weakly chuckling, Arthur’s purple eyes glance at Rhaegar. “What else do we have going for us? We haven’t received word if Oberyn made it to Greenstone.”

“Lord Estermont would have sent a raven as soon as the storm’s cleared.” Robert picks up a map that was spread out on the small table between he and Rhaegar. Greenstone was loyal exclusively to House Baratheon. “Perhaps the bad weather is still lingering in their area.”

“I say lets throw caution to the wind then.” smiled Arthur, positive in his words. “IKt will take time for our arm to rebuild. give the fire freaks time to send over their ships. Hopefully Aerys won’t notice how quiet we are in the mean time.”

“That is if he doesn’t blow up King’s Landing before that.”

The clock was ticking. Would time prove to be their ally?

Alizah walks away from her stout fire pit, which she had brought from Volantis, specially made for her. Her fingers twist around the garnet gem strung from her neck.

Even not there physically, Alizah’s skin prickled at the sight of the Shadowlands constructed in flames. She regretted not being the one to go with Erh, but (y/n) was in good, reliable hands.

Still. . . (y/n) would truly be tested in Asshai. There, she would either learn how to fly or plummet to her death.

“Haakon?”

The Fiery Hand soldier wanders in, his companion lingered behind him. “Yes, Lady Alizah?”

“I must write a letter to the temple. Can you help me?” Her blindness barely affected her daily life, but she was still unable to read or write properly. There were still things she was limited to.

“Of course.” He finds that there is already parchment and ink on her writing table. Picking up a plumed quill, Haakon hovers it over the paper. “I am ready whenever you are, my lady.”

There was much to tell High Priest Bennero. Alizah paused before speaking, choosing her words carefully.

To the divine graces of the Red Temple, Pillar of R'hllor. . .

In order to fulfill the prophecy in which Red Priestess Alizah made a testament via flame reading, it requires four armed and ready ships.

The royal husband of our champion, (y/n) Targaryen, can easily gain capital with our assistance. His Royal Majesty, Rhaegar Targaryen, will rule side by side with his wife until the end. It is paramount that the requested fleet arrive in four turns of the moon lest King Aerys succeeds in destroying all of King's Landing.

I fear I have yet to receive any visions regarding (y/n) Targaryen and her efforts in Asshai.

May R'hllor guide my vision to (y/n)'s fate.

Signed, Red Priestess Alizah Tahib of Qohor

Haakon immediately lays down the quill and stares at Alizah. "Pardon me, but will King Aerys really destroy all of King's Landing? Every living soul?"

Alizah's expression is stony as she regards Haakon. Even glancing behind him to Kafele. "His mind is rotting, Kafele. I can see it, eating away at whatever goodness remains in him. He will become a creature of paranoia and illusion. Rhaegar needs to end him. For the good of the realm."

The vision of Aerys had terrified her if Alizah was to be honest. Inside Aerys was nothing but putrid decay. The curse of the three-headed dragon.

Not all was lost, though. . . Alizah had to remember that from what Thalina had divulged to the congregation before she set off for Westeros. Though there would be a trail of blood and a sea full of tears, there was peace at the end of it all. The Cold Gods would be destroyed, and magic would once more prosper worldwide. (y/n), the Warrior would see them through. She didn't seem like much as Alizah remembered her, but Thalina had been certain that she would grow and earn her title. (y/n) and her dragon.

Taglist:

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[themasqueraderwrites]

Beloved, bound, bought

Lakan x reader

(2/2 of part 2) (Part 4) (Part 3) (1/2 of Part 2) (Part 1)

More parts to come!(like, a lot a lot)

Picture not mine

I can’t remember much after that.

Maybe I lost the game to a mind no better than average… but at least I didn’t lose him.

Kan Lakan—this man had me entranced even before we exchanged words. And for the first time, because of him, business wasn’t just business. I long to be the only one he seeks out here. I’ll do anything. Shogi? I can learn. Go? Easy. Chess? That’s second nature.

And if he were to ask me for the kind of service expected of a courtesan… I’m not sure I could hold my boundaries. I’d let him take me—completely—until there was nothing left. Let him ruin me, strip away every piece of who I am. And still, I’d worry he wouldn’t want the crumbs that remained.

Tonight, he paid for a private exchange between us. Unlike before, when we played out in the open, our thoughts were a secret to all that hovered around us—except for each other. The full moon marked the first night it was just the two of us, the usual hovering nobles and courtesans dismissed.

Just the two of us. Inside the room that I had so worriedly thought he would take another courtesan in. The screen windows shut, though the whispers of the wind could still be heard, unrelenting and strong.

He watched before, as I lost to that simpleminded nobleman. I looked up at him after the loss had sunk in. I looked at him as if I needed him to decide what I am now.

Pathetic.

That’s probably what I looked like to him. Yet, I couldn’t bring myself to even imagine him saying that to me. And I was sure that if he did say such a thing to my face, it would be during the act of something inappropriate, not because I lost to a person who wasn’t him.

I snapped out of my thoughts. The man in front of me had his sleeves rolled just enough to look casual, but not careless.

“Again, you’ve boxed me in. Is this your doing… or did I let it happen?” He broke the silence, eyes still on the piece of wood.

I faintly smiled—not at him, but at the board. I hesitantly responded, “I suppose you let it happen. Though I won’t apologize for winning.”

He lifted a stone to the light, one eye squinting as he laughed quietly. “Hah. A courtesan-in-training who plays Go better than me. What a terrifying thing you are. They should warn the officials.” He took another stone with his other hand, tapping it on the table with his free hand.

My eyes finally made their way to his face.

“…I thought you'd grown bored of me.”

His reaction was delayed—the rhythm of the stone in his hands faltered, missed a beat, then stopped entirely. A moment later, his head snapped toward me, as if my words had only just registered.

“Bored?”

I replied with a hum as I took my next move.

“You smelled different… sweet.”

He hadn’t made his move. I waited a second, then another, and another. I looked up at him and sighed; he was already looking at me.

“You don’t have to expl—”

He cut me off.

“Bored? Of you?” His eyes wide, mouth slightly agape.

I sighed as I urged him to take his next move, yet he didn’t. I sighed again.

“I thought maybe you’d had your fill—of games, of talk, of me.” I started, followed by a bitter laugh. “You came back with a pouch full of silver, more silver needed to buy my time for the night. Spoke to the matron. Didn’t even glance my way. I thought you were buying time with someone else.”

Bitter—that’s what I was, and I shouldn’t be. Business is business, after all. It shouldn’t have mattered. This is dangerous. Not because he will kill me, but because of the fact that he could leave and I’d be as good as a dead man walking.

I can still hang on. I can still change this situation. I can deny myself this, lie to myself and him, that I truly only cared for the experience of being on an even playing field with someone—for the first time. Ever. I can lie again, that I only cared for the silver that he could offer.

Yes. I could do this. I have been wearing a mask ever since I came to this place; I can lie again. I can lie and pretend that I don’t care for those eyes, those hands, that voice, and that wonderful mind.

The silence was loud. Then, finally, his hand made a move on the board and he let out a sigh—one deeper than mine. As if this was the biggest problem he had encountered in a while.

“And yet, here you are. Sitting across from me.”

As our first game ended, he sat up straighter and made a proposal.

“Let’s wager something,” he said, as he fixed the board, eyes focused but looking up at me every now and then.

I raised my eyebrows, pausing my movement of helping him before replying.

“Wager?”

He hummed.

“If I win,” he said, taking the stone in my hand and placing it back into the jar, “you’ll give me anything I ask for.”

My breath caught, just a little.

“And if I win? …Again.”

He leaned forward slightly—just enough that his voice dropped to a private register.

“Then, I’ll give you anything you ask for. No hesitation.”

Suddenly, my resolve crumbled. I didn’t want to change this situation. Let him have me. Let him ruin me, and if he won’t, I’ll do it myself.

If it means having him.

This is the most dangerous promise I could ever be offered.

And I wanted it.

“Deal.”

[yaut-jaknowit]

Revelations

Pairing: We'ar-ow (Female Yautja) x GN!Yautja (Platonic (for now))

Word Count: 2421

Summary: Either you are crazy or something is mentally wrong, but you feel something… something for We'ar-ow. You need an ear to rant to and spill your guts to before. Someone who can offer a reasonable solution to this issue. Xilomere comes to mind. The old man is more than happy to hear about the situation and push Reader towards We'ar-ow.

Author Note: I'm getting excited about this story. I know it'll have to end but it's getting good up in here! Thank you all for the wonderful and kind comments you leave on each chapter.

Edit: sorry about the grammar mistakes! Should all be fixed!

Masterlist

Ao3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18

It’s quiet in We’ar-ow’s quarters. The Yautja had long left you to fulfill her duties as a monarch. She had offered you the chance to come along and sit with her on the steps of her throne, under her watch and safety. Yet, after the encounter with Dwainet and his posse, you didn’t feel it necessary to endanger your life for a different scenery. It was safer in here, away from everyone, behind at least two locked doors.

This alone time also offered you the time to reformulate your plans of escape. It was no longer an easier life in the hands of We’ar-ow. Dwainet wanted you dead, as much it hurt to say that. It was the truth. He wanted you dead by his hands. The only way you would be completely safe from him was by jettisoning yourself from the ship.

Though, the dangers of the universe still hang over you like a boulder about to drop, everything you experience on this ship wasn’t worth it. Not with death around every corner you turn.

You wanted off this ride before it ended your life short. To be honest, you should’ve left the moment Dwainet renounced his profound love for you. Then, you wouldn’t have be dragged into this battle between the Monarch and your ex-mate. One wants you dead and the other wants you… for what?

That’s something you’ve yet to figure out. Why does she care about you so much?

What Dwainet said about you to her had made sense. If your position and aliveness was threatening her throne, why not get rid of you? You’re the problem. Solving it would ease the tension within her clan.

But no. Here you were, still well alive and living in her quarters. None of made sense.

Hunger gnawed inside of your mind. With a grunt, you stood up from your curled up position on the couch and meandered over to the kitchenette. The small space offered enough for her to store snacks and prepare dinner for the two of you. You plucked some sort of fruit that resembled a spiky banana and peeled it open.

Your back leaned against the counters as you munch away on the interesting fruit. It had a strange citrus yet sweet taste to it. Enough to bring you to finish it off and throw away the peel.

Out of everything, We’ar-ow’s actions have softened you. You had to unwillingly admit that thought. A broken heart makes people act differently afterwards. That had to be why you felt a strange pull towards her. She was the only person on this ship after Dwainet who was being kind to you. That had to be it!

Something in your chest didn’t agree with the thought. You ran your digits through your locks.

It’s not like she wasn’t not attractive in her own alien way. Her structure both bodily and facially weren’t bad per se. She is an alien after all with a totally different facial structure.

In a shorten term, she’s pretty.

Your breath caught in your throat. A curse falling from your dry lips. You liked her. This… these feelings. One of your hands clutched your hair at the roots and slightly pulled on them. How was… but after Dwainet, you swore off any love from this cruel species. A whine sounded in the air. Your brows forged together. You couldn’t believe this.

Worst of all, with this ball already rolling downhill, it’s gained so much momentum you didn’t believe it could be stopped. You truly had to leave. You had to escape before your second chance ended you in a position worse than before.

Dead.

All of this was bottling up inside of you, a volcano ready to burst in every direction. It was a weight it became too great to carry without releasing it. You mindlessly gnawed on the inside of your lip and glanced over at the discarded tablet. Only a very few contacts had been added to the device. All people We’ar-ow trusted closely. One of them came to mind, someone who seemed extremely close to We’ar-ow in a friendly companion. Even to you, he was as friendly as the dominant race could be to outsiders. That was saying something too.

Besides We’ar-ow, he was probably the only other one on this ship you could talk to. You remember in passing, he offered himself to the two of you for any services. An ear to rant to was what you needed for right now. Anything to make it look less like you were a crazed human on a ship full to the brim with aliens.

You sauntered over to the couch and scooped the device from the cushion. This might be a bad idea to invite the Yautja into your safe quarters, but you believed he wouldn’t hurt you. Not if he was close to We’ar-ow.

A few taps brought you to the messaging screen. It took less than a minute to figure out what to type and send it to him. You spun on your heel and plop down on the couch. From there, you were going back to learning the specs of how to pilot a Yautja spacecraft.

It was less than a paragraph read for a response to pop up at the top. Shocked, you clicked on it and felt your lip’s part. He agreed. He was heading over now. You scrambled to your feet and sputtered to yourself, eyes glued to the screen. Stupidly, your gaze snapped over the room as if you had prepare for a guest.

It took a few moments to collect yourself before settling back down on the comfortable cushions. Everything’s fine. You took some deep breaths to cool down your racing heart before drawing your attention to the tablet again. You used it to pass the time until he came knocking at the door.

As you were about to slip off of the couch and open the door, it slid back to reveal the familiar form of Xilomere. His dark moss green scales were an anticipated sight that you welcomed with a short nod and respectfully closed mouth smile.

He strutted into the living space and rounded the other loveseat style chair. His weary old bones cracked while he relaxed into the cushions. One of his legs was thrown over the other. He rests his arms on top of the couch and reclined as much as possible in the stagnant chair. His baby blue eyes were glued to your form swallowed up in the cushions.

“So, what do I owe to have the wonderful pleasure of having a conversation with you?” he teased with an shit-eating grin that consumed his whole face.

You took a lungful of air and quickly pushed it out. “Well, I needed to talk with someone,” you answered and scratched at the back of your bicep.

Xilomere snorted, shoulders jumping with the motion. “I’d gathered as much from your message. But I’m surprised you had called upon little ol’ me and not your Yautja.” His greying tresses shifted while he titled his head to the side.

Your lips were pressed tightly together. “It’s.. about her,” you admitted and dropped your tense shoulders.

The Yautja made an intrigued noise and motioned with his intact arm at you to continue. “Please do tell. Trouble in paradise?” Your face burned with shame.

A shake of your head was quick to deny anything. “No, no. Nothing… nothing like, besides what’s going on. But, I-“ you cut yourself short and peeked to the side, unable to look the Yautja in the eye for too long. He was patient and waited for the story to be told. “Okay, well. I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a complete fool…”

He chuckled and leaned forward, resting his only elbow on a knee. “Just get it out, ooman. I’m not here to judge.” His words had the desired effect on your trembling form.

“Okay, okay. Um, I-I think, no. It’s-fuck!” you spat in frustration then scrambled off of the cushion. “I have a fucking crush on We’ar-ow.” Words screamed for the only other occupant to clearly hear in the room. Your shoulders rapidly moved up and down with each heaving breath. You made a whining noise and collapsed on the couch again.

“It’s shouldn’t be possible. I swore off love because of Dwainet. Your race is cruel and harsh. I learned I didn’t want to be apart of it after he dropped me out of nowhere. And now I have a crush on the leader of this clan. I feel like I’m back in middle school,” you ranted. After the last words left your mouth, you buried your face into your hands with a groan. “I don’t know what to do.”

A silence engulfs the duo. It felt hopeless in this situation. You couldn’t escape this feeling, not until you left this ship. You slept in the same bed as her, not cuddling but enjoying her heat and scent. Fuck, you liked her smell. You liked her touch. You liked her voice. You were smitten. If Xilomere wasn’t here to watch as you broke down internally, you would start bawling out your eyes out or started to destroy something in here.

The couch across from you squeaked at the shifting of weight. You felt a presence in front of you and peeked through your fingers to find Xilomere kneeling in front of you.

“I’ve known We’ar-ow for a long, long time. Since she became a hunter. The only one to survive the hunt.” He reached forwards and used the tip of his claw to tilt your head out of your hands. “I know a lot about her as a hunter but also as a person.”

Confusion morphs its way on your face. Why was he telling you this? This wasn’t comforting at all. “You, my dear ooman, are stupid.” You jerked your head back and sputtered out words. He pressed a finger to your lips to silence you. “Listen. Your species is stupid as a whole, so there’s nothing new there. But, I know you have a brain. Use it.”

It still didn’t click together. He sighed and stood back up to his full height. Shorter than We’ar-ow he still towered over you. He lumbered over to the couch once more and plopped down on it. “Go after her. Don’t let fear control you. It’ll kill you.”

The puzzled expression returned. “’Go after her’?” you repeated then shook your head. “Why in the world would I put myself up for failure? She’ll kill me if I told her I had this stupid little crush on her.”

Xilomere raised a brow at you. “Would she kill you?” he rephrased with one of his mandibles quirking up alongside his brow. You opened your mouth to speak before slamming it shut.

Things were beginning to click together in a terribly slow process. As if the pieces were sunken in tar. Then, you shook your head to dismiss his words. “Of course she would. I’m just her pet.” The words hurt your heart to say but it was the truth. All she saw you as was a pet. She only tolerates your presence for the time before the novelty wears off.

The Yautja snorted again and rolled his head. “You’re making me lose hope here, ooman,” he groaned and shook his massive head. The trinkets attached to his tresses clinked against one another with the motion.

“I don’t know what you want from me. I’m nothing more than just her pet. I’m surprised she hasn’t gotten rid of me for all the trouble my existence alone is causing her.” Xilomere stared long and hard at you, giving you a look that read ‘do you get it yet?’ But you didn’t know what he was trying to refer to without saying it outright.

His shoulders sagged. “I’ve lost all faith in your species because you,” he judged but the glint in his blue eyes told you a different story.

He turned his head to the side so his ear was facing more towards the door. “Well, that’s my cue to leave. It’s been… I won’t say fun since you’re still so blind to the picture. But, nice talk.” He rose from the seat and strolled over to the door.

It opened not only to his presence but reveal the familiar pink form standing in the doorway. Xilomere placed a palm on her shoulder and gave it a shake. “Your ooman is dumb,” he merely stated then moved pass her down the hall. She stood there stunned, peered over her shoulder down at him, then over to you. She shrugged her shoulders then walked into her quarters.

The door slid and locked shut behind her, resealing the room for your safety. She strolled over to you on the couch and plucked you off the cushions. Not a word was uttered to you. We’ar-ow threw you over her shoulder and carried you into her room. A yelp escaped your lips as you scrambled for purchase. The Yautja stopped at the side of her bed and tossed you onto it.

A pout found its way to your face. “Hey! What was that for?!” you asked with a stern voice and glared shortly at her.

Either she wasn’t listening or just didn’t care, she crawled onto the bed with you. It wasn’t terribly late in the day to sleep, let alone for her. We’ar-ow snared an arm around your midsection and tugged you to her torso. You struggled, unsure of what was happening, but a short purr had you going lax.

Then, the Yautja laid down on the comfortable mattress and curled around your form. She was spooning but due to enormous size difference to you, she engulfed you into her body.

Even if you wanted to escape, you knew she wouldn’t release you. Her hold wasn’t tight but firm to let you know there wasn’t an opportunity for an escape. Deep down, you didn’t truly mind. She needed the comfort so you relented and went lax in her arms. We’ar-ow placed her head on top of yours and went still. You knew she wasn’t asleep due to her breathing, but the moment was peaceful.

Part 1 |Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18

[duckapus]

Avatar Wario AU Stuff I Came Up With At Work Today

With Mario being mostly his Game Canon self with a side of Meme like Luigi is, Peach doesn't have any reason to devolve into a one-note raging bitch, and thus is in no position to be declaring Anime a public safety hazard. Instead it's set into motion by Diamond City's mayor, who was at their wit's end dealing with the WarioWare Crew's antics before Wario became the Avatar and got even worse. Objectively speaking a city-wide ban isn't as bad as a kingdom-wide ban, but it does set a concerning precedent, so it's just as vital that WarioWare and the Glitchy Gang fight it.

As I very heavily implied, in this timeline Meggy's the one who experiences Fake Sephiroth 2 Electric Boogaloo and Desti's the one who gets Zucced and turned into a Human/Octoling/Whatever hybrid.

It takes a certain type of person to willingly be around even a normal Wario long-term, let alone this one. Desti turns out to be the right type of person, while the rest of the Octo-Posse decidedly Are Not.

She actually ends up joining WarioWare Inc. after the final tournament since she likes the rest of Wario's friends and the pay's actually pretty good despite...well, you know. She does, however, still go through a similar crisis of "what do I do with my life now?"/Severe Untreated PTSD combo that Meggy did in canon, including the part about trying to go on a vacation. Not sure what she eventually decides, since I don't want to just have her become a sports coach exactly like Meggy did. She is her own person after all.

Since Mario isn't crazy stupid he didn't go through Mario's Home Alone. Instead he just found Melony somewhere and took her home because he thought a melon with a beanie was cool.

Also instead of having the same Headgear as Meggy Melony's base form has a beanie with a design based on her humanoid form's hoodie.

While Melony was Meggy's parody in SMG3's play, she ends up as Desti's anti-cast counterpart because "Melonsti" still gets "dies" during the confrontation backstage. Also Wario and Waluigi get counterparts because they were involved in two of the arcs

Since Zer0 doesn't know who the Avatar is any more than anyone else, once his eye escapes 3's Guardian Pod he has to do some research... which mostly involves bingeing 4's channel to see if it has any clues. Because of this he learns a lot about the Crew, finds out about Meggy's death, and gets a truly twisted idea.

...Yeah Meggy gets brought back to life just so she can be subjected to a heavily modified version of Axol's role in the arc. Worse, because Zer0 needs a living host he goes all Frankenstein-style on her two-years-dead waterlogged corpse and fills in the gaps with some pirate bones he found, what little was left of Francis after he got Zucced and Super Blown Up, and a bit of his own code.

As a result, she's now 50% Human, 40% Inkling, 9% Chameleon, 1% SMG, has a little fragment of Francis's soul inside her own complete one, and is possessed by/fused with an eldritch abomination.

Since he can make use of Meggy and Francis's abilities, as well as a currently limited version of his own, Zer0 doesn't need to lure Wario in by forcing E. Gadd to make a bunch of Shreks and instead just attacks WarioWare Inc. directly. He is severely underestimating Wario and his friends so this still leads to the whole bunker thing.

Melony, Mario, Desti and Axol all manage to get inside "Eldritch Fraggy" during the final rap battle, and with four of them there instead of just one they actually manage to free her.

Once she's out there's more than just the Trauma to deal with. I mean for one thing she's still part lizard and has a piece of her worst enemy living rent-free in the very core of her Self, and that has Significant Effects.

Appearance-wise she's now about as tall as Luigi, she got patches of scales on different parts of her body, including a pair of ridges along wither side of her jawline and a light scattering of tiny ones across her nose where her mask should be that kind of look like green freckles. She also has a long, semi-prehensile tail that's a lot stronger than it looks, and a long sticky tongue like a Yoshi's. And she can turn invisible.

Unfortunately having a bit of Francis in her has affected her personality, though not by very much. She now likes tech and (unfortunately) anime, though the latter is just a general appreciation rather that the full-on horrifying obsession Francis had, and she's picked up a couple of his mannerisms (the first time she realizes that she's called some cool gadget "High-Technicaaal" she nearly has an aneurism)

She's also picked up his poor eyesight, and she's in denial about needing glasses for a while.

Still decides to become a professional coach at least, because she's still mostly Meggy.

Moves in with the Mario Bros after everything blows over since she does need a place to stay, at least until she's no longer Legally Dead.

[blizzardrush]

Coming of Age

                          Dragunov Week Day 3: Alternate Universe

I've wanted to write this for a long time.

Content warnings: canon-typical violence, depictions of blood and gore, character death.

Read here or on AO3.

Thank you, and enjoy! @dragunovweek1

                                        1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7

                                                      -  -  -

    Life could not go on this way, and the insurgent was in the thick of it. He was whatever was needed -- planner, consultant, writer, runner, spy. Whatever it took to stop the common people, his people, from starving in the streets.

    He met with workers in factories and organized strikes. He spoke with disaffected soldiers and secreted weapons into the proper pockets. He stood atop statues and shouted for reform, a banner in one hand, the other in a fist. The air and his heart were charged with electric excitement. His world tilted on the edge of change.

    He was captured. He was stolen away with a bag on his head and delivered to a small, underground room.

    They tried to make him talk, to surrender his comrades, their agendas, threatening devastation. He spat in their faces. The Empire was already decrepit. If he didn't perish now, it would be of exposure in the cold, too poor to afford heat. Wasn't that a familiar story? How many Imperial Guard had lost siblings to famine? Wives? Children?

    They left the room for a while. They came back with knives. Bayonets.

    The insurgent had craved many things in these desperate times. This was the first time he craved death.

    The last thing they took before they dumped his ruined meat in a slush-filled alley was his tongue. No seditious words evermore.

    His comrades found him the next day, and mended what they could, but their attention was required elsewhere. Troops had fired upon the crowds marching on the Winter Palace. Hundreds were dead, many more injured. They bid him farewell, certain it would be the last time they saw him alive.

    But a frigid flame yet burned inside him. He refused to succumb to his wounds. The revolution needed him.

    He was no help to the cause in his broken state. When he gathered enough strength to walk, he crept aboard a train due west. There was a place beyond the Empire that heralded a miracle: a cure for any ailment and injury. One needed only arrive through its gates, and arrive the insurgent did.

    However, with treatment completed, he awoke in a world more warped than the one he knew, its psyche squalid and sloshing with vile mystery. He gripped the edges of the clinic doors and watched the sun dip past jagged spires.

    Yharnam was very dark at night.

                                                      -  -  -

    "I know what you're doing, and I'd advise against it. Beasts are your primary concern. Not hunters."

    Sergei Dragunov, crossing the threshold of Oedon Chapel, sneers at the crow-woman lurking in the shadows. Does she? Has she seen how power turns ordinary men into slaves of the elite?

    "Not undeserving hunters." Eileen peers at him down the curve of her beaked mask. This one carries mild interest. Beyond doubt he's an outsider, for she's never seen him on prior hunts, but he moves with experience of won battles. Observing him dispatch Gascoigne made certain of that. "For your sake, you had best tell the difference."

    That is easy enough. Dragunov turns his gaze toward the Grand Cathedral, its hammer-like edifice looming over the Ward. He needn't be in Yharnam long to see the mark of the Healing Church in near every aspect of life in the city. That's how it begins. Control over all. Property, faith -- daily health. The fangs of a parasite sucking the populace dry.

    Perhaps there is time to save this place from tyranny yet. Never in his past life had he thought to be an assassin, but here he has the blood, the Doll, the dream.

    Torchlight gleams off the weapon at his hip. Though tarnished with age and layers of dungeon dust, Eileen recognizes it well. Sergei turns to leave.

    "Hmm." She rubs her chin, gathers her thoughts. "What path you choose to follow is your own. What prey you choose to hunt. I will not stop you, but take heed. Some burdens weigh heavier than others. Don't let it drain you of your youth."

    He hesitates, frowning back at her before continuing the march toward the Cathedral.

    Eileen chuckles. Must not hear that often.

                                                      -  -  -

    A spider dies, and Yharnam falls to ruin.

    The Grand Cathedral once more. Dragunov kneels on its top step. Its imposing facade pales in comparison to the bruised, putrid sky above. His hat blocks the worst of the sloughing colors. The heavens hold not his attention regardless.

    Eileen, propped against a stone statue, lies in a pool of her own blood. Sergei places a palm over her heart. Its beat is faint yet steady, as is her breath.

    As is her voice, when she speaks. "Well, young hunter? Have you made your choice?" Fluid crackles in her throat.

    He has.

    The towering doors are open. He walks inside.

    A hunter staggers before the altar. Curiously, his hair comes to a thick point. He quakes in pain, bent double and clutching his head. Hearing Sergei's footfalls, he looks over his shoulder, eyes wide and wild.

    "Get back," he croaks, "Get back!"

    He damns himself to slaughter. Dragunov breaks into a run. If he can get there in time -- he wrenches his short sword apart into its constituent blades, siderite shedding sparks--

    Like many before him and many more to come, the hunter explodes in a flash of light and shower of gray fluid. Wicked claws burst from his existing arms and the scaled legs protruding from his belly. His skin erupts in black stripes and boils, and his wings hang heavy with shaggy feathers.

    The beast turns, the scream that rips from its throat careens around the Cathedral walls, splintering the windows.

    Dragunov rushes on, blades reaching for bestial flesh. Slashed blood invigorates his own even as the monster tears at him. Rage smolders coldly within him, drives his dancing, dodging dashes away only to dive in openings between swinging limbs. The wretched, ruinous Church--

    On the beast's forehead, a crimson eye cracks open.

    The light it flares sets Sergei's mind ablaze. He's in over his head. This empire spans further than earthly borders. His is a futile fight against the very heavens themselves, and the tsars who reign there are as gods. He is an ant, an atom, in a sea of incomprehensible puppet masters.

    Blood -- his own blood -- spews from him in spearheads, and yet pressure still builds. Dragunov stumbles, dropping one blade. He is going to burst apart.

    The beast laughs, arms wide for a lethal embrace.

    He has one last chance. His free hand scrabbles at his hip. Where is it, where is -- there!

    The beast's hot, rancid breath fills his nose as his fingers find the trigger of his pistol.

    The shot blasts through the madness. The beast shrieks, reeling back, molten quicksilver from the bullet scalding its exposed chest.

    Sergei sinks his remaining dagger into its writhing heart. Wrenching it free throws the beast to the ground.

    --his hand is empty. Both blades lie on the floor. The talons adorning his fingers shrink into human nails.

    The Grand Cathedral is silent.

    Dragunov watches the beast melt into ruddy sludge. He was too late for this one. Flitting from hunter to hunter, watching for signs of Church influence, is no longer an option. Too inefficient. As the night intensifies, so must he.

    The throne of the Healing Church lies near.

    He injects a blood vial into his thigh, feels its soothing spread around him, and withdraws to see if Eileen still lives.

[theunderestimator-2]

The Subway Sect Mark II shattered after performing their Club Left 'Songs For Sale' set in Paris in 1981 as captured by Sarah Partridge (photo no.1).

So what did punks do after the early days of filth and fury? By ’78, the early UK punk scene was already fracturing: after the Pistols crashed & burned, a fraternity of post punk musicians attempted to break from punk clichés and experiment with non-rock styles, Crass declared that punk was dead, as did Pete Shelley with Buzzcocks entering their pop punk formative phase while street punk and Oi! Bands attempted to redefine punk.

Vic Godard was there right from the very start, since his Subway Sect were among the performers at the legendary 100 Club ’76 Punk Festival sharing the bill with Siouxsie & the Banshees, The Clash and the Sex Pistols.

theguardian.com/ : “Vic, in league with Bernie Rhodes, was thinking of an even more shocking revolt against conventional taste: cocktail jazz. Rhodes persuaded Godard to ditch the original Sect and hired a fresh group of musicians with a little more swing than the original band. One of the first public expressions of this was Club Left, a regular night that ran at the Whisky a Go Go in Soho as the ‘80s began. The idea was to annoy everyone. But this sonic handbrake turn went on to point a lot of music – and a lot of punks – in a very different direction.”

The Clash’s manager Bernard Rhodes recruited keyboardist Dave Collard (photo no.2 by Coneyl Jay), bassist Chris Bostock (photo no.3 by Ian Usher), guitarist Rob Marche (photo no.4) and drummer Sean McLusky (photo no.5), key members of various Bristol groups, who along with Vic Godard formed a new incarnation of Subway Sect with a completely different sound influenced by ’40s-style crooner music mixed with jazz, soul, rockabilly and skiffle, which was referred to as ‘Cool Bop and Swing’. These cool cats, a London ‘Rat Pack’ with Johnny Britton as the regular Club Left DJ, even toured extensively and their refined set became the “Songs for Sale” album.

“I remember looking down from the club’s floor-to-ceiling window one night just before opening, and seeing a queue stretching round the corner into Shaftesbury Avenue. We attracted an amazingly eclectic crowd, and you never knew who would turn up together with our hard-core regulars…”. Rob Marche “Club Left hosted a weekly array of great performers. If it had an ethos, it was a simple nod to the Beatnik past of Soho and Paris of the 60's”. Sean McLusky

The far-retro Club Left project reintroduced various people to easy listening. Artists such as Sade or the group of young women, who had supplied occasional backing vocals for the likes of Shane McGowan’s first band, the Nipple Erectors, and went on to become Bananarama. When Vic Godard got married and took a break from music in ’82, the rest of the band with the addition of Dig Wayne became the JoBoxers, fusing elements of northern soul, rockabilly, NY disco and funk.

(via, via, via, via)

[stephaniereddit]

PART 2. About the surname, magic, origin and other things

1. Who is Vendela in essence?

Vendy is a member of the race of Supernaturals, ancient cosmic beings. In addition to her, they include her brother Seraphim, her father Dizarey, her mother Concordia, her uncle Jormungand, etc.

Vendela's Family Tree (Before Rebirth)

At first glance, they might be mistaken for gods, but there are several key differences:

1. All Supernaturals are mortal. Even the Seraphim, like the phoenix, doomed to be reborn forever, must first die. Killing them is usually extremely difficult, but nevertheless, it is possible.

2. Supernaturals are not capable of creating life. They can create conditions for its origin, but they cannot create a living being or revive something that has long been dead.

3. Basically, Supernaturals are just beings from another brane (check out the "braneworld" theory to better understand the concept).

Vendy is a Supernatural by blood, but her powers and abilities are heavily distorted. It's worth starting with the fact that she died at the moment of birth. But her soul survived and went to look for a suitable world for rebirth. This is what the world of dragons became - an experiment by Jormungandr, which at the same time became a prison for its progenitor. There, Vendy, in spirit form, finds Sarah, an Asgardian banished by Odin and left alone on a planet full of predatory lizards with the beginnings of intelligence. But the Asgardian didn't just survive - by the time Vendela arrived, she had already begun to build her empire. The spirit decided to temporarily wait out the unfavorable conditions in the body of the future empress and went quiet for a long time.

2. Origin of the surname.

Vendela bears the surname Horrendous Haddock, like her father, Espen Horrendous Haddock. Yes, she is a descendant of Hiccup, but a very distant one, since there are more than 10 generations between them. All this time, Vendy, in spirit form, passed from one descendant of Hiccup along the Nuffink line to another, until one day she felt that the time had come to awaken (Hiccup received Vendy's spirit from Sarah when she left the planet to begin her revenge on Odin).

Unfortunately, Vendy was too big for her second mother, Grai, and she died shortly after birth. Espen raised his daughter with his longtime friend, Susan. At the time, her young son had recently died, so the widow and widower teamed up to raise Ven and Susan's eldest son, Rind.

3. Magic

Vendela, as far as her species goes, was a huge failure. Having to be reborn as a human and then evolve back into a Supernatural, she is small, weak, and unstable. She got the following abilities:

1. Telepathy is the most developed. By the age of 17, she had learned to read other creature's thoughts and broadcast her own, as well as create extensive channels of telepathic communication for dozens of participants. Due to telepathy, she has a well-developed intuition, but also a high pain threshold, and her skin is very sensitive, especially on her ears and right behind them, where the nerve nodes are located.

2. Healing. In the world of dragons, she is the only one who has this skill, so during the hottest periods of the war, hundreds of soldiers passed through her healing hands. Plus, thanks to "Healing", Vendy herself can more easily endure illnesses and injuries, and no scars remain on her body. By the way, she can heal with any part of her body.

3. "Oracle". Vendela is able to see dozens of possible futures. However, with the re-acquisition of a physical body, the ability began to do more harm than good. The visions always appear suddenly, the girl falls motionless, her pulse and breathing slow down to critical values - being sick, she can literally die in this state. She is completely defenseless. And the predictions are most often false. Fortunately, the calmer the environment, the less often moments of predictions arise.

4. Transformation: This is a fairly simple skill compared to the first three. Simply changing physical form from a near-human creature to a dragon and back. In the process, Vendy literally disintegrates herself and then rebuilds the necessary form from the surrounding molecules.

Dragon form. Donnie (193 cm) easily reaches her shoulder with his head. She is quite small compared to other dragons.

5. Matter Manipulation, in simple words - alchemy. Vendy has mastered this skill at the level of an average alchemist. It uses all 3 subtypes of alchemy: Elemental (prefers water and earth), Transformative (Classical alchemy) and even touches on Mixed (or Ritual) in a distorted form. Within Ritual Alchemy, she does not use spells, as any spell she casts will cause her to become unstable and put her life at risk.

[levis-coffeecup]

chapter 21| Carnival of Life

WC-5.1k

Summary

The underground is filthy and dark. Dim lights, dull alleys, and desperate hearts. A place Levi knows as well as the back of his hand, and a place he would do anything to get out of.

Chapters of life roll by and with the turn of a page, things drastically change. In front of him is the opportunity to live on the surface. And the flimsy bridge that he has to cross. From an uncivil criminal to a disciplined soldier.

But life on the surface seems tougher amidst all the mockery, civilities, and the gaping hole left in his heart, after the demise of his dear friends Isabel and Farlan.

Content/Warnings

canon- compliant, canon-typical violence, spoilers for No Regrets OVA, descriptions of PTSD, grief, depression, heavy angst and themes, strong language, self-hate, physical assault.

Author’s Note

Hi guysss!!!

I'm sorry it's been soo long. But the next chapter is finally out!!

It's similar to the Trost fair chapter, if anyone remembers... but the scene is rewritten. And scene 2 and 3 are completely different! Also, if you find any grammatical errors please comment about it to let me know!

Song for this chapter is Seneca by Novo Amor.

Chapters

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22

Masterlist | Playlist | Other Works

MAY 847

15 minutes are left before the clock strikes 4. The weather is pleasant. And people have started to fill the place. Ready to experience the renowned Trost fair.

Mae prances around as well, with enthusiasm in her every step. Her flowy-cotton sundress dances with the breeze. Her lips painted a rosy pink

Timidly Levi walks behind her, unable to think of anything other than her lips. And the color it would leave off on his, when they press against each other for a kiss.

Her hair bounces, with her every step. It has gotten so much thicker now. And her skin glows. Healthy and radiant even though a few zits are littered here and there.

Hange told him to compliment her. Apparently it's what men should do when their partner makes an effort to get dressed for an outing. And he racks his brain religiously, thinking of something that doesn’t make him sound like a dumbstruck idiot.

“Levi!,” Mae whines, as she turns to face him. “What are you doing there, walking so slow? Nothing will happen with the pace you’re on.”

“M-Mae..” He staggers forth, and she stops in her tracks, sensing his discomfort.

“Yes Levi, is something bothering you?” Her tone turns much softer.

“Y-your s-skin, it looks v-very good t-today.” If he had the courage, he would also tuck away the stray hair that falls in front of her face.

And Mae narrows her eyes as she looks at him, a little dazed. Currently she is sporting the biggest pimple on her nose.

“You know… no leakage or anything… It's intact… holds the organs in tight,” Levi continues, shying away at the way her eyes sparkle in the sun.

His gaze falls to the floor. And she pats him on the chest, with a smug smile on her face. “You’re cute,” she grins… as she boops his nose.

The gnawing winter tendrils have melted from the atmosphere. Summer has blossomed. And with time, Mae and Levi’s relationship has grown too.

Conversation has become easier. Efforts have become clearer. And understanding comes a little more naturally than before.

And now Levi is leaving in 2 weeks. The Survey Corps has to relocate. The thought itself saddens Mae. Just when things were getting better between them, the universe had to push them apart.

The chaos of the crowd ahead acts as a good distraction.

It feels like the entire city is here. People stand at every nook and corner. Paper lanterns are hung down from street lamps, and pillar tops. The tantalizing smell of sweets and the distant sound of music fills the air.

And protectively, Levi takes a hold of her hand, “Stick close, wouldn’t want you getting lost.”

The streets of Trost have become somewhat familiar. Levi has been coming here almost every week. Mainly because he’s dead set on finding Mae a house in Trost.

He’s made her quit her job at the tavern. And he’s also helping her financially to cover up for the money she would make at the tavern.

And Mae seems so much happier.

Time paces by incredibly fast in the mob. Mae prances around enthusiastically. Dragging Levi around…. Now they stand in the long line that starts at the food stalls.

It's crowded, people talk a lot, and they smell of sweat. Levi hates it, he’s only here because Mae has been very excited about this fair. She would come here every year, with her family when she was a kid.

“Levi! It's been an hour, and you haven’t had anything.” She speaks with a mouthful of cotton candy in her mouth.

“Because I don’t like sweets and you’ve been revolving around the same 3 sweet shops for the past hour,” he jabs.

“But Levi!...,” she pouts. “I want you to have fun as well. Tell me what you want to do, and we’ll do that.”

And Levi looks at her with the same blank face, that does no favors in showing what he’s thinking. I’m happy as long as you’re having a good time.

“Levi, say something!” She whines.

“I just want to sit in a quiet place, where people aren’t pushing me around and going crazy over stupid cotton candy.”

“You want to sit… Sit in a fair?” she chuckles. It takes her a moment to realize that Levi isn’t joking. And swiftly she grabs his hand, and pulls him along. Moving away from the long lines at the food stalls.

“I’ve got you covered.” she smirks. She takes him deeper into the fair. Inward and inward until she finds a quiet alley, with just a few stalls around.

And Mae’s eyes widen as they land on a middle-aged man who sits on a wooden stool. “He’s still here…,” she gasps in disbelief. And she takes a seat on the bench placed a few meters ahead of him.

2 hours later, they are still sitting on the bench, with Mae flashing a teeth-baring smile and Levi sporting his grumpy frown.

The young man in front of them has paint splattered over his hands now. And he scrunches his brows as he focuses on the canvas in front of him. “It’s almost done ma’am.”

Levi lets out an exhausted sigh at that.

It's boring, just sitting her still like a fucking statue or something.

But the other day Mae was talking about how she’s forgetting the faces of her parents.

It's something that he has experienced quite often as well. The feeling of forgetting the people that were once the closest to your heart. To completely lose touch, even in thought as their memory becomes distant and blurry

If he could, he would like to have a picture of all his lost loved ones as well. His mother, Kenny, Isabel and Farlan.

By the time the painting is finished, the sun is close to setting. Leaving the sky in shades of lavender and pink.

But Mae’s energy remains unwavering. Levi finds it a little hard to believe that this is the same lady that gets exhausted after 15 mins of cleaning.

“You want to play some games?”. She chirps, with her eyes wide.

“Tch yeah, drag me wherever…”

A couple of minutes later, Mae stands in an aiming stance. With some distance between her feet, her hips squared and one eye squinted as she focuses on the strawberry pasty ahead.

And Levi sighs, as she's back to food once again.

The game is simple, a table full of prizes is kept a few meters away . From sweets to soft toys and embroidered napkins as well. And the player has to aim a bunch of rings towards what they want.

“I haven’t had a strawberry pastry in so long Levi… and that… that looks so good. I’ll be the happiest if I get to have it.” She tosses the ring in her hand, towards the dish.

It misses, quite terribly. But Mae doesn’t let that diminish her confidence. “Just wait and watch me get it Levi… Nothing separates me from my pastry… ever.”

She aims, she throws, and she terribly misses.

The next 2 go far past the stall table. The third falls far to the right. One manages to bounce of one another prize

All of a sudden the game seems like nothing but an evil scheme to make people feel defeated. She aims again, this time it falls a meter away.

And Levi turns away to look elsewhere.

His shoulders quake and he presses his lips hard. Trying his hardest to contain the laughter that he’s about to burst into. She is hopelessly shitty when it comes to aiming.

“You only have 2 chances left ma'am,” the conductor pipes in.

“2?” She mutters in a saddened voice, and Levi’s ears perk up at that.

She throws away another ring, hopelessly. This one doesn’t even reach the table. And she raises her other hand up as well, wanting to throw away the last ring in sheer frustration. But Levi’s voice stops her.

“Mae, wait,” he calls out…

He walks forward and positions himself behind her. Slowly, he raises his arms up, and places his hands on hers. Moving them around and guiding her body into a better stance.

Her back presses into his chest. And she can feel his breath on the curve of her neck. “Just pretend like you’re holding on to it, and let me take the aim,” he whispers into her ears.

She nods, a little too flustered. He’s so close to her, she’s sure he can hear the rampant beat of her heart.

He guides her arm, his fingers grip the ring, right alongside hers. And then he tosses it away. And she just follows his hand, making it look like the both of them are aiming at the ring.

The ring rattles as it falls right on the designated place, with the strawberry pastry in its exact center.

A victorious grin spreads across her face. And Levi watches as a lovesick man as she picks up the strawberry pastry and brings it to him.

They start walking towards the other end of the fair. The commotion still lingers in the distance. but the number of stalls starts to visibly lessen.

A chilly wind blows, and Levi and Mae find a bench, a little away from everything.

The dusky sky has turned dark. And there’s a couple kissing in the distance, too lost in each other to give a damn about the world.

And Mae has finally accepted that her relationship with Levi might never be like every other one.

He’s lost more than he has loved. And in a few days he’ll be living far away from her too.

“Time is ticking by so fast isn’t it?” Her voice turns somber. She shifts a little closer to him, fighting back the tears in her eyes.

And Levi’s gaze falls down. He has nothing to say. Nothing to make the situation better. He’s scared that he’ll touch her and she’ll shatter at the strength his hand holds. That someday she will disappear and all his fears would come alive.

And his hand tremors, as he pats her head. Every moment he spends with her, fills him up with thoughts of losing her.

“I’m sorry.” the words come out of his mouth, barely audible. “I’m sorry…” he says again. “Only if I hadn’t fucked up, and made you quit your job at the Survey Corps.”

And Mae pauses for a minute, before she looks back at him

“It was hard Levi…but I think it was good. I had this version of you in my mind, that I admired and then shit happened and I didn’t know you anymore… I realize that I still don’t know you yet, but I think that's great, because I’m always learning about you. About your flaws, about what you think and how you feel. So at least I’m not loving what I think of you.”

Love… He doesn’t understand such heavy words… Nor does he know if he’s worth all the effort she puts into him? Slowly his hand reaches to hers, he gives it a gentle squeeze. The roughness of his fingertips, is contrary to the softness of her skin.

There is an unsaid apology in his actions.

So many things hold him back. Life hasn’t been kind to him. He wonders if the burden on his back will be lighter if he lets go of it?

Mae squeezes his hand back in response. A soft smile resting on her face as she adores him with her eyes.

She knows about his past now. And so she understands why the walls around his heart stand so strong. Hammered again and again and strengthened by every loss.

People give the love that they never received. For Levi, it was safety and security. It was coming to Trost multiple times, and finding her a safe house, before the Survey Corps leaves. It was supporting her financially even though he himself doesn’t make a ton of money.

He’s always kept her safety above everything. It was her who took it for granted, because unlike him, it was never something she had to fight for.

“You’re perfect to me.” Her words are like a balm on all his wounds. Lies but still soothing. Because Levi is by no means perfect.

He is a person who has killed and tortured countless people. Heck, he was close to using violence on her as well.

But to Mae, Levi is a person who had all the chances to become the worst person in the world, and yet he chose to be someone good.

She places her head on his chest. Hearing the stable beat of his heart;.

And for a doctor, who has heard millions of heartbeats, his is different. Even though it sounds the same. Because his heart is one that is unaffected by the bitterness of this world and the cruelty it has witnessed. It's a heart that can still care; a heart that can still love..

And Mae decides that she’ll love him no matter what.

The feeling of his fingers in her hair is familiar. Just like the smell of his freshly laundered clothes. And perhaps, there is finds hope in these fragile beginnings of love

━━━━━━━━━━━━

JUN 847

The Survey Corps headquarters doesn’t look as intimidating today. The walls look bleak, torches don’t light up the hallway anymore. And the chatter of the cadets is almost inaudible.

A few senior officers pass by in a hurry. Their hands filled with suitcases. And Mae watches from the side, as the life in the headquarters slowly dims away.

She extends her hand out, letting her fingers rover over the textured brick walls as she walks through the hallways.

It's a bittersweet feeling.

She remembers the days when she would work here. With Levi acting rude and cold, and Mr. Mendes was pestering her about marriage.

She was dying to leave this place back then, and now she stands here, not knowing when she’ll see this place again.

Time sure flies by quick, and a wistful smile tugs on her face.

Soon she reaches her location. The familiar door is slightly open as usual. She knocks and then pushes it open.

“Hange!,” she calls out. Their messy room almost looks clean today.

“Mae!,” they greet, adjusting their spectacles into place. They’re on the floor, with two huge suitcases that don’t seem like they are going to close.

“Having a hard time packing,” Mae chuckles.

“Yup I've got so much stuff… Mainly books, but other stuff too.”

“Welp, sadly I got some more stuff for you,” Mae keeps the carry bag in her hand on Hange’s bed. “It’s a gift.”

“The other one’s for Levi?” Hange questions, as she looks at the other bag hanging from her shoulder. “He’s staying at yours tonight, right? Oh! I completely forgot to congratulate you on your new house!” Their thoughts run too fast and they blabber. “Are you settled in yet?”

“Almost” Mae chuckles at the onslaught of questions. “Levi has been helping me move in, and we've bought basic furniture... He chipped in and helped me buy the place too. He didn’t want me staying in Jinae, when he wasn’t there.”

“So Levi will join us in two days… directly at the new headquarters?”

“Yes, Erwin permitted him to do so.”

“I’m glad!” Hange beams. “Everything is working out so well for you now! You’re living in a safer area, you have your own house and you also don’t have to work two jobs.”

“It is…” Mae replies. But there’s a sadness in her smile, and the tears forming in her eyes tell Hange otherwise.

“But you’re not happy are you?’ Hange gets up from the floor, and walks closer to Mae.

“It’s hard… You guys are moving away. I’ll miss you. I feel so defeated… I feel like whenever I take one step forward, life pushes me two steps back.”

They envelop her in a tight hug, rubbing her back to make her feel better. “Don’t worry Mae, when I start experimenting on Titans, you’ll be the first one to hear about it!”

“Hange,” Mae whimpers. “ Please take good care of him. He seems all mechanical and emotionless, but he is a really sensitive baby… And a lot of things affect him but he’s so used to putting on a tough front that he doesn’t realize any of it.….. I know he hasn’t opened up to you fully yet, but he will. And I have told him to come speak to you, when he wants to get things off his chest. Please protect his heart in my stead.”

And they wipe off the tears rolling down her cheeks. Flashing the warmest smile as they say, “I will protect your little guy with everything I have… alright?”

A shaky smile forms on her face, and she hugs them again. “Thank you.”

“Now go… kiss him goodbye.” They pat her back as they walk her to the door. “You have one night with him… do much more actually.” They wink.

“M-much more?,” Mae stammers. Her face heats up, turning beet red. “What noo! W-we haven’t kissed y-yet!”

And a hearty chuckle escapes Hange’s lips. “Gosh! You guys are slow, sometimes I wonder where this relationship would have been without me.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━

Levi sits next to the window, sipping the last remnants of the tea in his cup.

The bustle of Trost plays in the background like white noise. And his eyes scan through Mae’s new house.

It’s a 2-storey cottage. The walls are old, made of the same bricks that he sees in every other aged building. The rooms are tiny too, or cozy as Mae likes to call them. The doors creak once in a while. And the ceilings are so damn high, she’ll probably have to get on his shoulder to clean all the cobwebs.

They were out of time, and they didn’t have the money to buy her a better place. And in no way, was Levi going to let Mae stay in that metal shed, once he left.

The tea in his cup, nears its end. And his eyes land on the sketch Mae got of him and her at the carnival. It's framed, placed on the dining table. And he pauses, as the heavy feeling he was trying to forget fills up his heart once again.

The clock ticks, making every passing second audible. “Mae I’m leaving.” His voice booms through the walls.

“Coming,” Mae’s voice echoes from the floor above. And soon she’s rushing down the stairs, with a tote bag in her hand.

One look at him, and she freezes. The fact that he’s leaving hits her with full force. And she wonders what she’ll do here, in the house she thought she’d share with him? Without him.

Levi stiffens too. He pushes his chair back, and stands up.

He can tell she’s been crying. Dreading this moment, that now stands so close.

His hands get clammy. And her lips quiver as she walks closer to him.

They stand a foot apart now. And Mae takes a stabilizing breath, because Levi stands so close yet the idea of him seems so farfetched.

Her hand lands on his cheek, relishing the smoothness of his skin. She doesn’t know when she’ll see him next. Or whether she’ll see him all fine, or tarnished with bruises, doused in his own blood.

The thought breaks her will. Her neck falls down, heavy with the pain of separation. And the top of her head rests flat against his chest. Slowly her shoulders start to shake, trying to contain the sobs that are close to spilling.

She doesn’t want Levi to see her break down like this. Not when, it's the last time he’s seeing her for a month at least.

But Levi not only sees, he also feels what he’s feeling. All her pain hits him right in the heart.

It's going to be hard, not being able to see the person you see everyday. It's going to be hard to wait for letters when you are so used to hearing their chatter. And it's going to hit even harder when something joyful or depressing happens and there is no one to share your emotions with.

With all the gentleness, he lifts her head, cupping her cheek with tenderness.

“You know I’m going to visit you whenever it's possible, right?”

And Mae knows that’s not going to be frequent because Levi hardly finds time for himself. But somehow she still finds the strength to be optimistic.

“And you’ll write to me.” She places her hands over his chest.

“Yes, I will write to you, every week, no excuses,' He smirks fondly, recalling all the demands she made a few days prior. His lips press to her forehead, a kiss bestowed on it.

She brings the tote bag up to her chest. And her hands dig in, bringing a few glass bottles out.

“These are some spices and seasonings here, the food they serve at headquarters is very bland, and I don’t know how you have it. And food isn’t just for getting nutrients, but also for enjoying how it tastes.”

“Chamomile tea, Levi I know you don’t like it much, but it is fucking expensive and you sleep better with it, so you better have it.”

“Scented Candles, Lavender essential oil, you know what it's for…” Her sermon stops as she sees the last item in the bag. Slowly she brings it out, not too proud of it,

It’s a teddy bear. Tan in color and messily stitched.

But what catches Levi’s eye is the big baby pink heart on its chest. Matching the color of the small circles on its cheek. Its smile is wide, and its arms are broad and open.

“Umm,” Mae fumbles, a little conscious. “I also made you a teddy bear… thought you could hold it close, when you’re missing me.”

There’s a heaviness in the moment, but her love makes everything surprisingly sweet. And Levi finds the courage to pull her close. One arm around her waist, and the other holding her head close to his chest.

And in the safe enclosure of his arms, Mae breaks a little further.

“Do you e-ever regret it……. Being with me instead of Ivan?” Levi asks as he dotingly pets her head.

And Mae looks up at him, nodding her head in an instant.

“You are worth it.” she muffles against his chest

And Levi doesn’t know what she sees in him, or what he even has to offer. Nevertheless, he’s glad she’s blind when it comes to him. It makes his life so much better.

His thumb he wipes off the tear that slips down her cheek,

“I hope you don’t keep things within yourself, like you always do… Let me know when things are becoming too much for you..” Because as much as it would hurt to let her go, he would rather see her happier.

“Levi!,” She hits his chest.. “Don't say things like that. Instead, tell me that you’ll come meet me often.. I’ll wait for you… here. In our new house.”

His hand lands atop of her head, wanting to feel more of her than just her palm on his cheek. Fingers mingling around strands of her hair, as he ruffles them with fondness. There is a faint smile playing on his lips, hardly perceptible, but she knows it there when she sees his eyes, bright and sparkling.

I’ll wait for you too, always.

“You promise me you’ll take good care of yourself, and follow the routine I have set for you to sleep… And if something is bothering you, you go to Hange. I know you think of her as some loud freak who can’t keep a thing in her mouth, but she’s good with secrets. And she’ll never judge you okay.”

“Just like she kept our relationship a secret.” He retorts… as if he hasn’t vented to Hange about the relationship too.

Her face pales and she whines. “You’re going off topic.”

It gets silent for a second before Mae goes off again. “And remember to take breaks, and enjoy some times. Before Humanity’s Strongest, you’re a human who deserves to enjoy life too.”

And Levi caresses her head again, a small smile playing on his lips. “I promise, anymore demands you have to make?”

A slight pink tinges her cheeks. “Yes.” Mae bites her lip, and her gaze flicks to the floor, almost hesitant. ”I brushed my teeth thrice today.”

“Good,” he says a little cluelessly. “Do that every day.”

She huffs, looking straight into his eyes. Her brows are furrowed and all signs of her shyness are somehow gone. “I want to kiss you.”

Now it’s Levi’s turn to blush. “Y-you do…. I mean o-of course you-u…d-do” his voice trails off. All of a sudden he is unable to form a coherent sentence. It feels like all his brain functions have stopped and all he can do is nod his head timidly.

Mae steps closer to him and wraps her arms around his neck. She gets up on her tippy toes, as she tries to reach his lips. His heart accelerates as the distance between them lessens. The tips of their nose almost touch and he can feel her soft breaths tickling his skin.

All of a sudden he is hyper aware of everything happening in his body. From the budding heat in his cheeks, to the weakness he feels in his knees. He often wonders about what it is like to kiss, but now that it is actually happening, he can’t help but be flooded by insecurity.

His body turns static. And doubt fills Mae’s mind when she sees how rigid he is. Like the flame of a candle, against a breeze, her resolve is flickering, struggling to keep calm.

His eyes are boring into hers, wide and apprehensive.Her heart skips a beat, and she closes her eyes to run off from his intimidating ones. She leans closer and closer, until she feels something against her lips. But it's not lips…..it's skin?

Her eyes flash open and she finds her lips pecking the area under his nose

First hand, second-hand, every kind of embarrassment crams into her head. Mother of fucking god, what a disaster! She steps back, looking at Levi, to gauge his emotions,

His lips are wobbling, and he is horribly failing to contain the chuckle that is about to leave his mouth.

“You….you ,” laughter ripples past his lips, “have su-such a terrible a-aim.”

Her arms cross over her chest, eyes narrowing as she looks at him with a pout on her face. In an instant her hand flies towards his cravat, balling its fabric and pulling him down to her level.

In a millisecond, her lips are onto his.

And he freezes, his hands sticking to his side and profusely sweating.

Her lips are soft, almost cushion-like against his. Slightly they part encasing his lower lip. The slant of her nose is pressed right next to his. And the scent of her lavender lotion is all around him, aggravating the flapping butterflies that tumble in his stomach.

And Levi is sure that the only thing that is holding him still, is the warmth of her body, pressed against his. Anchoring him yet throwing him off the edge.

With her other hand, she strokes his jaw. Her fingers are as warm and as sweaty as his. And with a single touch, his doubts evaporate into thin air.

She can feel the fluttering of his lashes, until he finally shuts them close, and releases the breath he has been holding in since forever. His arms wrap around her waist and his lips start mingling with hers, moving subtly yet cluelessly.

Warmth blossoms in her chest, as she finally feels him responding , albeit awkwardly. She can’t help but smile.

He is trying, and he’s trying for her.

And soon he forgets about his clammy hands and the adrenaline rushing through his veins. Instead, he kisses her deeper, holds her tighter, so close that he can feel her heart thumping against his.

Their heartbeats harmonize. And for a fleeting moment, Levi forgets that he is going miles away from her. For a fleeting moment, everything feels right, and he realizes that he wants to stay here forever. In her arms, losing himself in her touches.

Slowly they part, foreheads pressed as they take a moment to catch their breath. Mae’s hand is still latched on to his cravat as her eyes flutter open.

Everything from the tip of Levi’s ears to the curve of his cheek is beet red. His eyes are still shut close, and his neck is slightly craned down, still in the same position in which they kissed.

Her lips twitch upwards at his cuteness.

“A terrible aim, huh?” A smug grin flashes across her lips.

And Levi’s eyes shoot open.

She is beaming with joy, his gaze falls upon the crinkle by her eyes, which forms only when she smiles that wide.

Her hands reach out to his rumpled cravat, as she fixes it for one last time. Every touch, however innocent it may be, stirs something deep in his heart. It awakens the desire to forget all about the titans and just settle down with her.

Picking up the bag with all his gifts, he walks towards the door. A minute longer and he might actually end up staying here forever .

“Bye Levi, take care.” Her words are sweet, but they leave a bitter taste in her mouth.

And all he can muster is a slight nod of his head, as he steps out of the door. All calm and aloof, except the tint of red on his face.

Right when he is about to turn and leave the alley, he twists back, and sees her figure. Now distant but still standing at the doorway.

His mind pushes back to how he has lost someone at every stage of his life. She’s living in Trost now, much closer to the titans. All it's going to take is one kick through the gate, and all his fears will come true.

The thought itself rattles something restless in his bones. He’s not here to protect her and he can only hope that she stays alive for him.

He waves at her. Until next time. Don’t die…..please.

More angst haha!

I feel like such an evil person sometime lol, but this is an AOT fanfic, so I wouldn't want to keep it all cherries and roses.

I lowkey feel like my writing style has completely changed. I'm writing shorter sentences now and keeping the wording simple too. I think it's easier to read through now, but let me know what you think about it...

Let me know what you guys thought about the chapter! As always constructive criticism is always welcomed!

Until next time! (which is hopefully soon🤞🤞🤞)

Taglist: @keijikunn @evas-leslas @leviackermanmyhero245 (message me if you want to be added)

[cbrecovery]

How to Choose the Right Towing Service in Northampton – A Complete Guide

When your car suddenly breaks down on the busy roads of Northampton, the last thing you want is to be stuck waiting for help that never comes. Whether it's a flat tire, a dead battery, or a more serious mechanical failure, choosing the right towing service in Northampton can make all the difference.

In this comprehensive guide, we’ll walk you through everything you need to know to make an informed decision. From checking credentials to understanding pricing and service quality, here’s how to choose the best towing company—like CB Recovery, one of Northampton’s most trusted names in car recovery.

Why Choosing the Right Towing Service Matters

A breakdown is already stressful—don’t let a bad towing experience make it worse. The right towing service should offer:

Fast response times

Professional equipment

24/7 availability

Fair pricing

Trained, courteous staff

Whether you're dealing with an accident, engine failure, or need a long-distance tow, the company you choose will directly affect your safety, your wallet, and your peace of mind.

1. Look for a Local Expert – Northampton-Based

One of the most important factors is location. A local company like CB Recovery understands the roads, traffic patterns, and common vehicle issues in and around Northampton.

Benefits of choosing a local provider:

Faster response times

Familiarity with local mechanics and garages

Lower mileage charges

Better reputation management (easy to check reviews!)

2. Check for Licenses, Insurance & Certification

You wouldn't trust just anyone with your vehicle. The right company should be:

Fully licensed and insured

Compliant with UK towing and transport regulations

Well-trained in vehicle handling and safety

At CB Recovery, all drivers are certified and vehicles are insured—giving customers full confidence in every service call.

3. 24/7 Emergency Towing Services

Emergencies don’t stick to business hours. Make sure the provider offers round-the-clock assistance.

Look for:

A 24/7 hotline

Weekend and holiday availability

Quick ETAs, even during peak hours

CB Recovery offers 24/7 car recovery in Northampton, ensuring you’re never left stranded—day or night.

4. Understand the Pricing Model

Cost transparency is a big green flag. Avoid companies that can’t provide at least an estimated quote before dispatch.

Pricing factors to consider:

Distance (per mile/kilometer)

Time of day (night/weekend charges)

Vehicle size and condition

Additional labor (winching, unlocking, etc.)

Tip: Ask if the service includes VAT and if there are any hidden fees. CB Recovery is known for upfront pricing and honest advice.

5. Check Services Beyond Towing

A good towing company offers more than just towing. For example, CB Recovery provides:

Jump starts for dead batteries

Flat tire replacement or inflation

Lockout services

Fuel delivery

Winching from ditches or off-road locations

Long-distance towing

Having these additional services available means you're covered for more than just towing—making the company a true recovery partner.

6. Read Customer Reviews & Testimonials

Online reviews are often the most honest reflection of a company’s service. Google, Facebook, and Trustpilot are great places to look.

Ask yourself:

Are customers happy with the response time?

Is there a consistent mention of professionalism and fairness?

How does the company handle negative feedback?

CB Recovery proudly holds excellent ratings and reviews from hundreds of satisfied Northampton residents.

7. Evaluate Customer Support & Communication

When you're stranded, you need more than just a tow—you need reassurance. The ideal towing company should:

Answer calls promptly

Communicate ETAs clearly

Offer guidance while you wait

CB Recovery excels at customer communication, keeping you informed every step of the way.

8. Equipment and Fleet Quality

The best towing services invest in well-maintained vehicles and modern towing tools to prevent further damage to your car.

Ask:

What type of trucks do you use?

Are they suitable for your vehicle type (cars, vans, SUVs)?

Is the equipment regularly inspected?

CB Recovery’s fleet includes flatbed trucks, wheel-lift tow vehicles, and roadside assistance units—ready for any type of situation.

9. Clear Terms & Insurance Coverage

Reputable towing companies will offer clear service terms, and in many cases, work with insurance companies for direct billing or reimbursement.

Before finalizing:

Ask for service agreements in writing

Check if your breakdown insurance is accepted

Ensure there's liability protection during the tow

CB Recovery collaborates with most major UK insurers, making the process smooth and straightforward.

10. Recommendations & Word-of-Mouth

Sometimes the best insight comes from friends, family, or local Facebook groups. Ask:

Have you used a towing service in Northampton?

Was the service timely and professional?

Would you call them again?

CB Recovery often receives referrals from happy customers—and word-of-mouth remains one of their strongest growth drivers.

Why CB Recovery Is Northampton’s Go-To Towing Service

Locally owned and operated

24/7 emergency service

Affordable, transparent pricing

Wide range of roadside assistance solutions

Excellent customer reviews

Trusted by insurers and locals alike

When your car breaks down, you want a team you can trust. CB Recovery combines speed, safety, and service—all with a friendly Northampton touch.

Service Areas

CB Recovery covers Northampton and nearby areas including: Rugby, Towcester, Wellingborough, NewPort Pagnell, Buckingham, Kempston, Lutterworth, Corby, Wolverton, Daventry, Market Harborough, Brackley, Kettering, Leighton Buzzard, Royal Leamington Spa, Bicester, Banbury, Rushden

Whether you're stuck on the Rugby or in a quiet residential lane, help is never far away.

Final Thoughts: Be Prepared Before You Need Help

Having a reliable towing service in your contacts—like CB Recovery—can save you hours of stress when you least expect it.

Pro Tip: Save CB Recovery’s number now so you’re ready in an emergency: 07932 336287

Frequently Asked Questions

1. How fast can CB Recovery reach me in Northampton?

Typically within 30-45 minutes, depending on your location and traffic.

2. Is CB Recovery available at night or on holidays?

Yes, they operate 24/7, every day of the year—including holidays.

3. Can I get an upfront quote before booking a tow?

Absolutely. CB Recovery offers transparent pricing with no hidden fees.

4. What types of vehicles do you tow?

Cars, vans, SUVs, and light commercial vehicles.

5. Do you work with insurance companies?

Yes, CB Recovery collaborates with most UK auto insurers for reimbursement or direct billing.

If you’re searching for a trusted, fast, and affordable towing service in Northampton, look no further than CB Recovery.

👉 Visit : https://www.cbrecoverybreakdown.com/ 📱 Call Now: 07932 336287 📍 Available 24/7 across Northamptonshire

CB Recovery – Northampton’s most reliable name in car recovery.

[airslingerseo]

Furnace Short Cycling in Pinellas Park? Here's What It Means and How to Fix It

Furnace Short Cycling in Pinellas Park? Here's What It Means and How to Fix It

If you’re a homeowner in Pinellas Park, Florida, you probably don’t rely on your furnace year-round. But when those unexpected cold snaps hit, your heating system becomes essential. If you've noticed your furnace turning on and off too frequently—sometimes just running for a minute or two—you're likely experiencing short cycling.

Short cycling not only prevents your home from reaching a comfortable temperature, but it also puts unnecessary wear and tear on your system. Left unchecked, it can lead to higher energy bills, system damage, and even safety issues.

Let’s break down what furnace short cycling is, what causes it in Pinellas Park’s unique climate, and most importantly, how you can fix it.

What Is Furnace Short Cycling?

Furnace short cycling refers to the system turning on and off more frequently than it should during a heating cycle. A properly functioning furnace typically runs in longer cycles to maintain consistent indoor temperatures. In contrast, a short-cycling furnace shuts off too quickly, often before your desired temperature is reached.

This issue may go unnoticed at first but can quickly cause:

Inconsistent heating

Increased energy consumption

Accelerated wear on components

Complete system failure over time

Why Is Short Cycling a Concern in Pinellas Park?

While residents of colder states may experience short cycling due to harsh winters, in Pinellas Park, the reasons are often linked to climate and maintenance patterns unique to Florida:

Mild winters mean furnaces are used infrequently, which can lead to dust buildup or maintenance neglect.

High humidity can affect furnace components, leading to malfunctions.

Oversized systems are more common in Florida homes focused on cooling needs, which can lead to short cycling when the furnace runs.

Let’s explore the most common causes of short cycling in more detail.

Top Causes of Furnace Short Cycling

1. Oversized Furnace

Florida homes, including those in Pinellas Park, often have oversized HVAC systems designed to tackle summer heat. Unfortunately, if your furnace is too large for your space, it will heat the home too quickly and shut off prematurely.

Signs of an oversized furnace:

Frequent on/off cycling

Large temperature swings

Inconsistent comfort in different rooms

Fix:

Have an HVAC professional perform a load calculation. If your furnace is significantly oversized, replacing it with a properly sized unit may be necessary for long-term comfort and efficiency.

2. Dirty Air Filters

This is one of the simplest and most common causes of short cycling. A clogged filter restricts airflow, causing the furnace to overheat and shut off before the cycle is complete.

Additional signs include:

Reduced airflow from vents

Rising energy bills

Burning smell when the system is on

Fix:

Check and replace your air filter every 30–60 days, even in mild climates like Pinellas Park. During the months you rarely use your furnace, it's still a good habit to inspect the filter regularly.

3. Thermostat Problems

If your thermostat is malfunctioning, incorrectly placed, or programmed poorly, it can cause short cycling. In Florida homes, thermostats are often placed near windows or vents, where external temperatures may skew readings.

Other thermostat-related issues:

Dead batteries

Loose wiring

Calibration errors

Fix:

Ensure your thermostat is located in a central area away from heat sources or drafts. Replace the batteries and consider upgrading to a smart thermostat for better control and diagnostics.

4. Flame Sensor Malfunction

The flame sensor detects whether the furnace’s burner is lit. If it's dirty or faulty, it might shut down the furnace prematurely to prevent gas buildup—a good safety feature, but one that leads to short cycling when triggered incorrectly.

Fix:

A qualified technician can clean or replace the flame sensor. This is a quick and relatively inexpensive repair that can prevent future breakdowns.

5. Overheating Furnace

If your furnace is running too hot, it will shut down to avoid damage or fire risk. Overheating is usually caused by airflow issues (dirty filters or blocked vents) or mechanical problems (faulty blower motor or heat exchanger).

Fix:

Ensure your vents and returns are unobstructed. If the problem persists, have a technician check for mechanical or electrical failures.

6. Poor Maintenance

Pinellas Park homeowners may skip routine furnace maintenance simply because it's not used often. But like any machine, a furnace needs regular tune-ups—even in a mild climate.

Neglected systems may develop:

Clogged burners

Loose wiring

Malfunctioning safety switches

Fix:

Schedule annual HVAC inspections before winter. Preventive maintenance is the key to stopping short cycling and ensuring your system is ready when you need it.

7. Blocked or Leaky Ductwork

Your ductwork is responsible for delivering warm air throughout your home. If ducts are leaking or blocked, your furnace may work harder than necessary, leading to short cycles as it rapidly reaches the temperature in some areas but not others.

Fix:

Have your ducts inspected for leaks, mold, or blockages. Sealing and insulating ducts can also improve energy efficiency and prevent short cycling.

How to Diagnose Short Cycling

You might suspect short cycling if your furnace:

Turns on and off more than 3–4 times per hour

Runs for only a few minutes at a time

Fails to maintain a consistent temperature

Listen for the frequent clicking of the system starting up and shutting down. Note any error codes on the thermostat or control panel.

If you're not sure, calling in a technician for a diagnostic is the best approach.

Preventing Short Cycling in the Future

Whether you've fixed a short-cycling furnace before or are just starting to deal with it, prevention is key:

Schedule yearly maintenance, even if your furnace is rarely used

Replace filters regularly

Upgrade old thermostats

Seal and clean ducts

Address humidity issues that may impact internal components

Final Thoughts

In Pinellas Park, your furnace may only get a few months of use each year, but that doesn't mean it's immune to problems. Short cycling is a particularly frustrating issue—it reduces comfort, raises energy bills, and increases the risk of long-term damage to your heating system.

Fortunately, most causes of short cycling are easy to prevent and fix with a little proactive maintenance. Whether it’s a simple filter change or a more involved system evaluation, addressing the root of the problem early will ensure that your home stays warm and efficient during those rare Florida cold snaps.

If you’re experiencing furnace short cycling in Pinellas Park, don’t wait for a full system breakdown. Call a licensed HVAC professional today to diagnose the issue and restore your home’s comfort.

PH.:- +17278153334

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Tree Removal in Amarillo, Texas: Expert Tree Services You Can Trust

Trees are very important especially in enhancing the beauty of our compound as well as improving the quality of air we breathe, but there are occasions when it becomes necessary to remove them. It may be brought about by storm, disease, or even for development purposes, tree removal should be done carefully, accurately and safely.

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While trees add value and charm to your property, there are several situations where removal is unavoidable:

1. Diseased or Dead Trees

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Storms can cause trees to be weakened, leaning or broken due to storms. Another reason for tree removal is that a damaged tree is liable to fall and cause some harm to people or property.

3. Overgrown Trees

Often trees grow taller than their neighbors and may pose a threat to power lines, driveways or even buildings. Trimming a tree can bring proportions and security if the tree has grown too much.

4. Building or Gardening Works

For instance, if you are undertaking a construction project, or redesigning your compound, trees may have to be cut down to provide room for structures or plants.

5. Pest Infestations

Trees affected by pests such as termite or beetles pose a threat to the health of your yard and other structures that may be nearby. It is safer to remove the tree because it can cause damage to your property.

The Amarillo Tree Removal Difference

At Amarillo Tree Removal, we pride ourselves on delivering professional tree removal in Amarillo, Texas, tailored to meet your specific needs. Here’s what sets us apart:

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Being a company based in Amarillo, Texas we are well aware of the local climatic conditions, type of soil and tree species.

Our Tree Removal Process

When you choose Amarillo Tree Removal for tree removal in Amarillo, Texas, you can expect a seamless experience from start to finish:

1.. Initial Consultation

First of all, we conduct a general check on the tree in regard to its health in order to have an understanding on the most appropriate way to go about the removal process.

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Employing technical and precise mechanisms we bring down the tree in segments to minimize impact on the surroundings.

4. Stump Removal (Optional)

However, for a total service, we also have the stump grinding services to completely eliminate the tree stump and ready the area for other plantings.

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This we ensure that we take with us all the mess that might have been left in the yard.

Why DIY Tree Removal Is Risky

While it may be tempting to handle tree removal on your own, the risks often outweigh the savings. Here are some reasons to leave it to the professionals:

Safety Hazards: Tree removal requires the use of tools, work at great heights and falling branches, all of which are very dangerous if the worker has not undergone through training.

Property Damage: Inaccurate methods may be likely to cause harm to your house, cars or other structures of other people.

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Sustainable Practices

At Amarillo Tree Removal, we are committed to preserving Amarillo’s natural beauty. Whenever possible, we recycle removed trees into mulch or firewood, ensuring eco-friendly disposal.

Contact Expert Tree Services Today

So if you are searching tree removal Amarillo, Texas then you should contact Expert Tree Services. Our skilled and friendly staff is available to offer you professional, efficient, and inexpensive tree services.